The Copper Press is a curated anthology of in-world broadsheets, field journals, private letters, and investigative reports drawn from across *Apocalyptica Arcanum*. Each volume captures a singular event—arcane catastrophe, cryptid manifestation, corporate conspiracy, battlefield miracle, or quiet tragedy—set against the ever-present hum of Shardisite and the long shadow of The Meteor.
These are not campaign transcripts. They are the stories people tell when they survive. Some have been later printed in respectable journals. Others circulate as penny dreadfuls, military letters, or smuggled pamphlets folded into coat linings. Each story stands alone. Together they form a cartography of consequence. All can be considered canon to the world unless proven otherwise.
The first volumes established the tone of the Press: exploration, consequence, and the cost of knowledge in a world remade. From frozen vaults of crystallized memory to cobbled alleys haunted by brass silhouettes, these volumes ask a simple question: What happens when belief, industry, and grief share the same fuel?
The later volumes widen the world—deserts that bleed glass, oceans that sing, cities that devour their own scholars.
The Copper Press is:
It is not:
Every broadsheet has an editor. Every editor has a patron.
These volumes can be used as:
If a future campaign crosses paths with one of these events, assume the truth is stranger than the print.
The Copper Press remains open. New volumes will appear as the world fractures further, as new angels rise, as demons whisper, as industry presses its thumb deeper into glowing stone. When ink dries on the next catastrophe, it will be archived here. Until then, choose your volume, turn the page, listen for the hum beneath the paper.