The Waterwheel
Location: Mechanus
While Enki lived, his realm, the Waterwheel, was a harmonious domain where the orderly precision of Mechanus tamed the fluid chaos of water. This vast, perfectly symmetrical cog was integrated into the endless machinery of the plane, its teeth meshing seamlessly into the endless grinding gears. Yet Enki’s cog was unique: it was alive, its metal shimmering with layer of iridescent cascading water, waterfalls given purpose.
Enki’s realm was a sanctuary of fluid order. Rivers of pure, glimmering water poured through channels in the cog, turning intricate mechanisms with the energetic currents. Cataracts dropped into radiant pools in which glowing lotuses floated, their petals shifting in hue as light refracted through droplets. Towers of copper and glass rose up from the pools, and shimmering fountains sang melodic notes, their rhythm perfectly synced with the ticking of Mechanus’s gears.
The centrepiece was the Tideclock, a monumental timepiece in which Enki resided, a spiralling cascade of liquid crystal and flowing streams of water. Within its translucent walls, the Sumerian god of the waters oversaw the aquatic cycles of the multiverse: the tides, the seasonal rains, and the sacred flow of rivers. The Tideclock’s apex housed a massive orb, the Sphere of Abzû, which pulsated with divine essence. This was the beating heart of his realm, a reservoir of pure primal water that was somehow connected to every sea, every storm, and every subterranean spring across the planes.
Visitors to the Waterwheel would have found mechanisms of burnished brass and polished silver inscribed with Akkadian cuneiform. Powered by the reliable flow of water, the machines continually rotated, pistons and gears moving metal plates which formed a dynamic labyrinth that guided travellers to where they needed to go, if not necessarily where they wanted. Creatures of elemental water, such as mephits, undines, and even playful water weirds, served Enki as guides for visitors and caretakers for his petitioners. Scholars and druids came seeking wisdom; sailors prayed for favourable tides. Even powers from other pantheons visited to negotiate the delicate balance of water’s influence on their domains.
The Waterwheel in Death
Enki’s realm was the heart of water’s purpose in the multiverse. Every drop of rain, every rushing stream, every ebbing tide was influenced by its harmony.
When Nergal and Anshar struck down Enki, the Waterwheel faltered, then shattered. The pristine rivers stilled, becoming stagnant pools of brackish water. The gears began to grind haltingly together, corroding. The crystal towers became weathered and cracked, and the fountain song was silenced.
The once-vibrant Sphere of Abzû now pulses faintly, its waters clouded with grief. It floats, untethered, above the abandoned Tideclock, leaking rivulets of tainted water that rust the gears beneath. The ever-precise Mechanus attempts to compensate, but without Enki’s guiding hand, the balance is starting to falter. On the prime worlds where the Sumerian pantheon holds sway the rains now pour in erratic bursts veering between storm and drought, the rivers carve wild meandering paths and flood or dry up without warning, and the unruly tides rise too high or low and carve out great chunks from the land.
The Haunted Flow
In Enki’s absence, the realm has become a treacherous place of sorrow and danger, for strange phenomena plague the Waterwheel. The air is heavy and oppressive, as if mourning the dead god. Its stagnant pools sometimes ripple with no cause, reflecting images of distant past or perhaps events yet to come. The petitioners are long gone now. The waters breed bizarre creatures: sentient whirlpools that consume intruders, or sludge-beings born of rot and despair. Sinister whispers echo through the Tideclock’s shattered halls, the last remnants of Enki’s wisdom desperate to find a listening ear. Ghostly apparitions of water elementals drift aimlessly, more mist than liquid, mourning the death of their patron.
Some believe the Waterwheel can be healed. If enough of Enki’s essence, godshards scattered across the planes, could be gathered and returned to Abzû, the waters may be revitalised and the balance restored. It would be a brave blood to attempt this though, for they’d be risking the wrath of the vengeful powers Nergal and Anshar.
Canonical Source: On Hallowed Ground [2e] p182. No detail is given beyond the name of the realm, this entry is all home-brew.
Source: Jon Winter-Holt
