The conclave has many millennia of combined magical knowledge. They have written the laws of magic. However, the punks know not all that they have written is necessarily accurate. Not all of them are untrue, such as “every curse is a lesson”. Some “laws” can be bent, others can be broken. Runes on many buildings allow access to the Ethereum, a network of artificial ley lines that crisscross the city. Some areas are purposefully not connected to this network. Portable black mirrors allow you to see into and access certain functions of the Ethereum. Scrolls of texting allow direct instant communication if you know the name attuned to a scroll and both scrolls are connected by an unbroken series of ley lines. Most food is magically conjured, such as tasteless porridge from enchanted cauldrons, but for a few extra silver you can magically flavor it, which doesn’t help the mucus-like texture, the reason the locals refer to it as “Street Slime”. The cauldrons walk around to busy street corners and outside factories at designated lunch times, the often rusty magic mouth on the front shouting for customers. The magic pouch on the side that collects money is one-way, coins are teleported to a linked ark vault. Attached to the other side are runes that dispense clay bowls and spoons that vanish after an hour.
