The Titanforged Giant

Beneath Bridgeport’s harbour lies a cavern of black stone where a downfallen titanforged giant sleeps. Its proportions defy human scale: a hundred feet from crown to heel, its chest an intricate lattice of brass ribs wound with dark crystal veins. The surface of its armour bears runes of impossible geometry, glyphs that still pulse faintly with residual Aeum energy. No rust dares to form upon it. Its helm is split open, revealing gears that grind ever so slightly, though no mechanism powers them. From the deep fissures between its ribs comes a rhythmic tremor, a slow, steady beat, like a colossal heart struggling to remember life.
  Strange bioluminescent barnacles cling to its shins, their light synchronised with the pulse. Divers sent to study it have returned pale and stammering, muttering that the construct dreams. One swore the runes rearranged themselves while he watched. Another insists he "heard" the giant whisper a single word: "Return."
  Bridgeport's "experts" debate whether the being is a weapon, a sentinel, or the corpse of something far older. What is certain is that the downfallen one still reacts to Aeum flux; when storms roll over Bridgeport and lightning strikes the sea, the whole harbour seems to tremble.
  So far no one has dared to take any further action and the Council of Ten has forbidden to approach the giant.
 
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