Sword Singers

This is a rather catch all term for anything having been enhanced with magic. The term arose out the new Artifice movement spearheaded by The Forgemaster, You Khamere just after the last war with the Caliphate. Where Huronian Officers and Generals were given weapons, particularly Sabers, that had an odd tendency to sound as if they "sung" through the air as they were used.

Though this is not always the case, the odd effect had much to do with the type of enchantment attached to them. The most famous of this very specific terminology of Sword Singers are the Vorpal Blades given to officers or heroes of the State. The Singing blades of the military always had an odd chuckle out of everyone as they barked their orders.

As servicemen and women were discharged from the military to rejoin civilian life they began taking an interest in the Artificer trades and began modifying just about anything they could get their hands on. Following in the footsteps of The Forgehouse in Glaion, a proverbial Mecca of Industry and Magic, as the rise of steam engines came out of both Huron and Galus, these civilianized soldiers took to tinkering with the new technology.

As they continued, the term Sword Singer just became a term that the Huronian population came to call anything that had runic scribing for a key piece of functionality. The phrase picked up as a regional colloquialism as nearly all Artificer mechanics used the phrase "Like the Sword Singers" when describing their works.

Significance

With the ever growing popularity of Artificers and their work with everyday objects, things are progressing quickly. Where only a decade ago the most powerful steam engines could only move a few coal carts through mines, they are now beginning to power entire cities for energy and locomotion. The runic scribing covers nearly every surface of these machines enhancing their durability, operation, efficiency, and in a few cases altering how people perceive them.

Dreadnaught Arelion by AI AIIG, by Thereasonwhy

These Artificers are constantly keeping up and pushing new understanding of existing technology, innovating on prototype after new prototype. As structures advance so do the runic structures, complicated becoming simplified. Simplified expanding to encompass more and more, meshing with new workings, all gathering in a symphony of magic.

"HAHA! Cloquet you devious engineer you!" Khamere, loud as usually cackled handing the paper over to Gjorn. "I'll be damned! I didn't think she'd surpass my design so quickly!"
"They're getting better at this." Gjorn said to his old friend, setting his coffee down while examining the photograph of the newest engine to come out of the workshops of Huron.
"Isn't it amazing! She managed to increase the efficiency of those piston chambers, took off extra weight from the engine block so it has less to pull around on its own." Khamere noticed that Gjorn didn't listen to a single word of it. Staring at the etchings covering the engine block. "They're getting better at this. What do you mean by that? You don't sound as if you are talking about the prototype."
"You are correct, dear friend. All of you Children are beginning to rediscover what was lost to you." He said without any hint of elaborating.
"Why the condescension? Are we not all but children discovering the world as we go?" Khamere set their hammer down on the anvil, pausing from starting the new piece sitting in the fires. With a look that seemed to know more than was owed, looked over to the Dwarven King. "All these runes are being discovered from the ruins of the old world, from ancient manuscripts, lost histories. Yet here you are, constantly correcting the works of cutting edge magics. You still aren't going to tell me where you learned to read the runes in that disturbingly omniscient way of yours? We don't even have a formal name for the language."
Khamere was about to begin grilling Gjorn again for more information, rising and walking out of the Forgehouse. He waved, his voice bouncing off the walls echoing with that strange power he wielded. "It's called Elder Fae, words from the lips of four loving minds."

Rarity

Extrodinarily Common