Shimmering lines etch the air as the sunsets. At first, all anyone can see is the ziggurat’s faint outline, but gradually the stepped levels become clear, then the steep stairways, then the Saurus guards standing like gargoyles around the perimeter. Only when the last glimmer of daylight disappears do The Watcher Terraces become solid. This is the domain of a Seraphon constellation called The Coalesced Watchers, a fortress they summon when they must protect someone in the lower realms.
The Watcher Terraces can materialise anywhere in sight of the evening sky. Each step has panels of black, glassy celestite, which reflect the stars so clearly they look like extensions of the night itself. The ziggurat’s interior defies conventional three-dimensional geometries, with enough space to house relic vaults, observatories, and grazing grounds. Few non-Seraphon ever enter The Watcher Terraces, but those that do always have some role to play in the Great Plan.
Gaining Access
The Watcher Terraces appear when those key to the Great Plan is at risk, no matter their role. Thus the party might find themselves sharing a ziggurat with pleasantly confused Gargants, Ossiarch Bonereapers mid-repair, or even mortal Chaos worshippers whose incompetence will someday prove useful — all watched closely and separated at once if they come to blows. Those barred from The Watcher Terraces can do little to convince the Seraphon to let them in, but luckily Soulbound and Stormcast Eternals are almost always relevant to the Seraphon’s designs. Though The Watcher Terraces disappear each morning, Saurus guards remain during the day to protect guests who the Seraphon intend to keep for another night.
Within the Terraces
Starpriest Titan-takcha handles most business with the warm-blooded. Never seen without her plaque and stylus, the Skink’s main responsibility is overseeing the constellation’s many warbeasts. She doesn’t see much difference between keeping a Stegadon fed and hosting a passel of Humans, Aelves, and Duardin. The Coalesced Watchers don’t trade so much as maximise utility. If they believe a weapon will do more harm to Chaos in the party’s hands than in theirs, they give it away without comment, but the same principle applies to the things they take from the party’s belongings. Visitors technically have the freedom to wander the ziggurat, but quickly find the paradoxical hallways leading them back where the Seraphon prefer they stay.
