Heliot

Infobox

Property	Value
Name	Heliot
Category	Ores
Magic	Yes
Colors	🔶
Rarity	Common
Found in	Southern Deserts, Sands (Shallow)
Influence	Dermal Toxicity & Heat Emission
Base Potency	Active (4\10)
Mining Risk	Medium (Toxicity & Heat)
Workability	Easy
Containment	Medium
Logistics	Easy
Artifacts	Abundant
Traits	Toxic Touch

Overview

Heliot, often referred to as the “Blazing Ore,” is a common but geographically limited magical mineral found in the shallow sands of the southern deserts. It pulses with a bright orange and yellow glow, possessing a base potential of 4/10, which surpasses even raw Mazurite. On the continent of Mangfold, this ore is the heart of a rigid monopoly held by a single empire that hoards the stone with zealous fervor, using its abundance to fuel grandiose experiments and displays of power.

Nature & Biological Influence

There is a theory that Heliot is the very essence of the sun, crystallized in the earth. It is not merely warm; it is toxic to the touch. Contact with the ore by bare skin causes immediate “burns”—not from fire, but from a caustic toxicity that corrodes the tissues and blisters the soul itself.

This “Blazing” trait makes handling it a matter of medium risk. While Mazurite mutates the world around it, Heliot simply devours the life force of those who dare approach it unprepared.

History & Ancestry

Historically, Heliot was the salvation of the southern tribes. Its discovery allowed them to transform inhospitable wastes into a fortress of light. Today, the Empire controlling the sands has turned this gift into a weapon of economic and magical dominance. They possess so much of this ore that they use it for even the most trifling innovations, seeking a path to absolute power while the rest of the world remains in the shadow of oblivion.

Ha-ha-ha

Hhhhowwww llluudicrroouss arrre yyoouurr sttattemennts…

Extraction & Refining

Unlike the deep veins of the north, Heliot lies close to the surface. Extraction involves digging vast craters in the sand, which over time turn into complex networks of tunnels and pits. It is “easy” to work with after extraction, but the mining process itself is fraught with danger due to the constant emission of heat and toxins. Thousands have died in these sun-drenched pits, sacrificing their lives to keep the Empire’s vaults full.

"The Three Banners Altar" Tavern

— “Watch out for this ore, lads, or it’ll come back to bite you”

warns a seasoned miner warily, aristocratically sipping cheap ale.

— “And why’s that? What’s so hard about it: no beasts to fight, no need to descend into the underworld.” — “Thank Ellah that He gave you the chance to get rich, beard-face.” — “Or the Empress, depending on one’s ‘taste’, hah.”

Laughter ensues. After a while, a couple of sips later, the seasoned miner continued…

— “It was a scorching spring, and my team and I were sent to the deserts of Deshamat. Spring, winter, it makes no difference—it’s always hot there, every minute.” — “Alright, get to the point.” — “Empty craters all around. And so, escorted by the Massui, we reached our hole.” — “Gods, I’m sick of him starting from afar… THE POINT, man!” — “Right… So I’m digging, and I see it: I see this clump of yellow crystal. I immediately rushed to drive a tunnel to reach it. And there it is—at arm’s length, to the left of the tunnel straight.” — “I’m going to hit him.”

An irritated hum buzzes through the hall, signs of discontent

— “Oh, shut up, let him finish, it’ll only take longer otherwise!”

After the hum died down, the miner continued

— “It was to the left, so I decided to dig a small burrow to reach the stone with my hand. Hasty in my desire to grasp it, I shoved my arm into the hole and felt an inexorable heat penetrating and devouring me from the inside.”

The hall fell completely silent.

— “The heat was of such power that my body, in panic, tried to pull the arm out of the hole on its own, but my shoulder—damn it, it got stuck.”

The hall watches the turn of events in amazement, not making a single sound.

— “The heat was already spreading to my gut, my stomach boiled and roared…”

The miner froze, as if replaying the events he survived. After several dozen seconds, the hall couldn’t take it—they wanted to know the ending: what kind of Heliot was this that nearly killed the miner so quickly?

— “Well, how did you get out?!” — “Ah, a comrade helped me. Pulled out my arm and extinguished my ass,” *he continued drinking ale as if nothing happened.* — “What?” *the hall asked.* — “What?” *the miner asked.* — “What ass?” — “Mine.” — “What does your ass have to do with it?!”

one of the drinking companions asks loudly and angrily in bewilderment. An uproar broke out, causing the miner to snap and shout over everyone.

— “EVERYTHING!!! You fools! Heliot clouds the mind; you want to reach it as quickly as possible! It shines with the colors of flame, and you are ready to dig narrow tunnels, forgetting about your fat, stinking arse! I, blinded by the grandeur of the ore, didn’t look to the sides, and in the end, my ass touched another vein!”

Storage

Storing Heliot requires constant vigilance. The medium difficulty of containing it is due to heat emission; it can easily ignite dry storage rooms or melt standard wax seals. Nevertheless, alchemists have learned how to “dampen” this bounty. The solution is a banal alchemical pre-treatment of the ore before storage, and beyond that—mere simple precaution.

"Simple precaution"

That is approximately how my warehouses burned down.

It must be kept in stone or metal vessels treated to resist caustic energy. Logistics, however, remain simple across the desert, as the Empire’s infrastructure is built entirely around moving this blazing wealth. The tunnels are part of the logistics.

Applications

Oh, Asteron — the unique abode of enlightenment, where the word “Academy” is whispered with prayerful reverence! Here, in the golden heart of the Khashram al-Qsar Empire, alchemy has long since conquered the night.

Look upon our streets. The lanterns here do not stain the sky with soot. Within their glass wombs splashes a thick, luminous substance—Heliot Distillate. This viscous fluid, obtained through complex distillation of the ore, is poured into reservoirs, and a single measure suffices to banish the darkness for months on end. It is a miracle that has become mundane. The Academy’s apprentices, those young, robed insolents, treat the distillate with criminal levity: they use vials of “liquid heat” to warm their retorts or even merely for sport, tracing fiery patterns on the cobblestones when the masters are not looking.

To them, Heliot is an endless river. But I, having lived here half a century, see that river running dry.

Prodigality—that is the plague of our court. I see caravans laden with mountains of ore passing through the Golden Gates. Yet only a fraction reaches the city’s distillation halls. Where does the rest go? Into the Mistress’s Private Citadel. The Empress is burning the Empire’s reserves in the crucible of some mad, unknown idea. No one knows what she is building or whom she wishes to incinerate, but the scale of consumption is terrifying. We are processing the earth’s legacy into smoke.

Whispers in the Dark

Corners of the Academy We spend the “Sun’s Blood” as if tomorrow will never come. My calculations do not lie: if the Palace continues its secret experiments at this pace, in ten years our lanterns will go out, and the Academy will turn into a cold crypt. We are trading eternity for the whim.

Known Artifacts & Deposits

Additional Info

See Also