Tag: city

#Lore24 – Entry #151 – Muckenmyre Month #30 – Winter in Grimbridge

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

The first couple of weeks following my return to Grimbridge were fairly calm, giving me some time to study the teachings of Lashana I had been given.  Though not a complete delve into the goddess’s doctrines, the book served as an excellent introduction to her ways, and contained the church’s view on the events surrounding the Great Cataclysm, and the nature of the lies surrounding it.  I still questioned the truth, of course, knowing that everyone who spoke of the matter had their own viewpoints and agendas to consider.  However, I did find her ways appealing, given my own tendency toward strong discipline, and her pursuit of justice and rightful vengeance resonated even more.  During my free time, I would begin learning more of Lashana’s ways, and of the other gods in general, speaking with those of the faiths, or reading what books I could find on them.

Unsurprisingly by now, there were more differences taught, even amongst the faithful of the gods, in the Empire. 

Though we had intended to find lodgings for ourselves, Mayor Pleasence, in his stern way, insisted that we continue lodging with him during the winter at least; I believe he was quite fond of having someone cooking and maintaining the home while he was busy with town business.  Satella continued her work as a cook and part-time healer, for those who could stand her goddess’s particular form of healing.

As promised by the constable, things did indeed pick up as the winter settled in.  More and more ships began to arrive, offloading goods along the Way instead of the rougher and often icy seas to the north, and troubles in the town began to escalate.  Sailors being what they are, there were plenty of scuffles on the docks and at the Bloated Floater, arguments on prices and quality of items, or just general attempts to bully the townsfolk.  As agreed between myself and Constable Tamblyn, we would tolerate none of it, nor would any of the town guard.  Some days went better than others, with my mere presence and a warning gaze enough to calm matters, but often there were fights I had to become involved in.  Though I always waited for the offending outsiders to start the fights with me, jumping in without thought to those that had started when I wasn’t present, I saw to it that I was the one who finished them, most often in ways that would leave the offenders in agony, and any companions of them hesitant, if not outright afraid, to try something on their own.  Satella would find no shortage of customers during the busiest of times, for the other healers in town would typically refuse to heal those who had been taught a lesson from me as a lesson of their own.

Somehow, I eventually earned a reputation and a name for myself in Grimbridge, the Gray Matron.  I was known for my harsh lessons, the pain I inflicted teaching lessons like no scholar could, but also for my willingness to see to it that the law was upheld to the letter, or as closely as possible given certain discretionary judgements rendered by the constable or the town, of course.  Though Lashana is strict on interpretation and application of the law, she is not without consideration for circumstances that may lead some to stray from the straight and narrow.  I had found myself trying to live up to her doctrines more and more as the winter continued, and though my thoughts were still drifting over the vast sea toward the Empire, they were doing so less and less; I barely took out my collar and cuffs to tend to them anymore, feeling guilty when I did, but also ashamed of my past.

As the winter continued, things would settle down in Grimbridge to some extent.  My reputation, and that of the town for taking a no-nonsense approach to outsiders causing trouble had grown, and for the most part, usually aside from drunken sailors getting into brawls, things were calm.  Jessiryn and Augra would earn quite a haul themselves during this time, as they would often escort trade caravans through the Way to Ryanthyr, though we saw little of each other.

Eventually, though, the cool of the winter months would fade, the fresh and warmer air of spring would begin to appear.  As the weather improved, the rush of activity the winter had brought to the docks would begin to fade, and so to would I find more and more time to consider where my path would lead me.

#Lore24 – Entry #150 – Muckenmyre Month #29 – The Truths we Learn for Ourselves

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

Satella and I awoke with the camp the following morning after a deep, peaceful slumber.  Though my mind would later be filled with many questions and puzzles I could not immediately work out, for the time being I simply enjoyed the atmosphere of the camp, the simplicity of their lifestyle.  We joined Emika and a few others for breakfast that morning.  It was another pleasant experience, though I told them we had companions waiting for us near the Muckenmyre and had business yet in Grimbridge that we had to tend to.  They respected my sense of duty and we would part on friendly terms, though I was quite surprised when Emika extended an offer for me to travel amongst them if I decided that I wanted to be part of their family. 

I didn’t know what to say at first, feeling a sudden, strong desire to take her up on the offer, but deciding that I should consider my future more carefully first.  I thanked her graciously and told her I would consider her offer, learning that they would be in Ryanthyr for a few more days before moving on to the southeast for milder winters and friendly territory, but that they planned to come back this way in the spring, which should give me ample time to consider their offer.  I thanked her again and said my goodbyes before Satella and I returned to our inn and retrieved our horses and a few supplies for the road, heading back toward Grimbridge.

I would not be much for conversation on the journey back, meeting up with Jessiryn and Augra around noon to continue down Grimbridge Way together.  My mind would be churning almost nonstop, trying to find the truth hidden amongst all the new information I had learned.  After my initial shock of learning what I had from Justicar Grayforge and Emika, even of the nature of the kerryn language itself, I could finally start to make sense of it all. 

Again, my well-trained slave’s mind tried to tell me that all I had learned was false, that the Emperor was simply doing his duty to protect the world from another kerryn catastrophe by keeping us in check…and yet the other part of my mind, the newly awakening state of a free kerryn, could counter those arguments easily with all that I had learned in a matter of a couple days.  Could all that I had learned be wrong?  Perhaps, but the words were spoken with conviction from people I felt I could trust, from which I sensed no deception.  They were truths to them, at least, and perhaps they were indeed facts…but could not the same be said of what was being taught to and about the kerryn within the Empire?  How big a part in the truth did the elves play in it all?  Their influence seemed to be much greater here than in the Empire, so perhaps they had manipulated the facts to a greater extent, but to what end?

To say that I was a conflicted, confused mess during that journey would be putting it mildly.

The journey back to Grimbridge was uneventful, save for some cooler temperatures and colder rains on the way back, and as we came back into town, I willed myself to push my muddled, conflicting thoughts away for a time so that I could properly greet Mayor Pleasence and others within the town.  The constable and the town guards had returned safely, and we were finally given our rewards for the services wee had rendered with the twins and bandits.  Though in the grand scheme of things, the pouch of gold and silver coins was a trifling amount, but for me, it was a stunning amount of wealth.  With my simple needs, it would last a long time, especially in Grimbridge.

I was briefly uncertain of what would come next, but as it turns out, I would have a job offer already waiting.  Constable Tamblyn asked me to stay on as a marshal for the town since I had done such a good job previously, and due to what would likely be a busy winter for them.  With the warmer climate in the region, and a worse than usual winter being predicted to the north, it meant more ships coming here and traveling along the Way, and that brought with it a lot more disturbances and potential problems.  I readily agreed to continue my services, for I still felt obligated to assist the town that had done so much for me.

And so it was that my winter in Grimbridge would begin.

#Lore24 – Entry #149 – Muckenmyre Month #28 – Amongst the Kerryn Nomads

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

For all the excitement I had within me after speaking to free kerryn for the first time, I rested surprisingly well that night, even awoke later than I usually did.  Satella admitted that she could see a difference in me already the following morning as we practiced our forms and was happy for me.  I told her of my plans, and once we had discussed matters with Jessiryn, Augra, and the constable, Satella and I decided to stay behind in Ryanathyr for a while longer after the business with the magistrate was concluded and the men from Grimbridge were on their way back home.  I couldn’t be sure exactly how long it would be before we would follow, but Jessiryn and Augra said they would wait for us on the outskirts of the Muckenmyre to accompany us back to town. 

Once the business of the town was done and we had bid farewell to the men of Grimbridge and our companions, Satella and I headed off for the nomad camp, which was just outside the city walls to the east.  In the clearing at the edge of the wood lay their two dozen or so brightly colored wagons, their horses in a makeshift stable off to one side, brightly colored tents set up all around the area.  Men and women were working about the camp, tending the daily chores, while perhaps a dozen children were running about playing, while another handful of older, younger adults, aided with the many chores. 

My slave’s mind wondered at the fact that there were no slave collars to be seen.

As we approached, Shani the dancer bounded out to greet us, looking refreshed and full of energy.  Though she too was invited in, Satella excused herself, saying that she had better visit the shrine to Yurisaya lest the Dark Lady become cross with her, but promised to return and bade me to enjoy myself for as long as I wished.  As I was led into the camp, I took in all the new scents, of the kerryn themselves, of the foods they had prepared earlier that morning, of the perfumes and herbs…the whole scene seemed almost a dream that I struggled to believe was real.

I greeted the other entertainers as we passed through the camp, busy tending their daily duties before they could go out and earn some additional money or trade in the city, and was soon brought to the wagon of the clan’s elder, Emika, who I would soon learn was also their healer and herbalist, attended by one of her daughters, Kumi, and an apprentice, Juichi.  I greeted them as warmly and casually as I could manage, still finding it difficult to behave in a manner more common in these lands.  She was quite a bit older than I, her hair having turned silver-gray (whereas mine was naturally a platinum color), her fur retaining its orange color, though, her face sun-darkened and showing lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, her clothing more simple browns and greens, though she still wore a wide purple sash about her waist.  It was rare to see a kerryn of her age in the Empire, though I had noticed several older kerryn amongst the nomads.

As her daughter served us a blend of tea I had not had before, a darker brew spiced with cinnamon and ginger, and we sat near the low fire, watching some herbal mixture cure, Emika began asking me about my journey to this side of the world, how I was getting along now that my collar had been removed.  I recounted my experiences thus far, giving additional details as she asked for them.  She eventually turned her questions to the Empire itself, even asking if I still had my slave markings, which I showed her.  She and her attendants were upset by the nature of the brands, at the scars that were around it from previous brandings and said that she had heard they used magic tattoos.

I explained why mine were different, what my duties were, lowering my head in newly discovered shame as I explained that I used to train new slaves and punish disobedient ones.  Then, quite freely, I explained the second mark, that of the Stellae Illustris, and what my duties had been as a member of their ranks.  I would never have considered giving this information freely before, but now, it seemed to flow out of me of its own accord, even the details of how we rooted out rebels and put them to the question and of how they had turned even the language we now spoke into a closely held secret.  As our conversation would continue, I would also admit to not knowing some of the words that I heard during the songs of the previous night, and even some of which she had used, for they had never been taught to me, and I had only guessed their meanings from the rest of what was being said.

After learning of my shameful past, I had expected that perhaps Emika would ask me to leave, too offended by my presence in their wholesome camp, but instead she bid me to follow her.  She led me about the camp, telling me of the history of her people, the Nakao clan, of how her own grandmother had been a fortunate escapee from the Empire that had found her way to these shores with a handful of other former slaves with the help of some world-travelling adventurers who taught them some of free living, eventually guiding them into the nomad clans that they would eventually join. 

Eventually she led me beyond the camp and into the great woods, following a well-worn trail through the mighty trees, telling me then about the many “truths” of the Great Cataclysm, telling me some of the same information as Justicar Grayforge, though also presenting how other races, specifically the elves of the ancient Dominion often presented the facts of the matter.  Eventually this turned to the nature of the kerryn people and the fallen goddess Sarresh, of how most of her teachings and ways have been lost to time as her people sought other deities to serve and worship.  The nomads, she revealed, traveled the land looking for Saressh, of any knowledge of her they could find, in the hopes that one day they might find her again.  I could only begin to guess at the possibility of resurrecting a long dead god, for such things were far beyond a someone such as myself.

I listened to Emika intently, absorbing every detail I could of what she told me as we walked, of the stories of her peoples’ journeys and history, the trail passing through several small streams and clearings, circling the city, though never leaving sight of its walls.  We passed others on the trail, citizens of the city returning from a hunt or seeking some solitude and were paid little mind but for a kindly greeting.  Some time later, well after midday, we finally returned to the camp, where I was treated to some of their cooked meats and a vegetable soup, even some of their honeyed bread.  The food was simple, but I found it delicious, and thanked them for allowing me to take part.

With the late afternoon came more rain, and then Emika asked about my future, what I planned to do with myself having learned all that I had.  Truly I did not yet have an answer.  I could not ignore the voice in my head that demanded I return to the Empire, to continue my service as a proper slave.  Nor could I another voice that told me to leave the Empire behind, to find a new purpose, to live…free.  Emika easily discerned my internal conflict, and eased me somewhat, telling me that I need not find an answer immediately, and that I should continue as I had, learning and thinking about what it was I had learned since my arrival here.

I aided her with some of her work after our lunch and asked her about what gods they worshiped within her clan.  Though they ultimately sought our lost Mother, they mostly paid their respects to Uvtarr-Omos, the god of travels and exploration, though they were often acknowledging several others as well, for there were many dangers and challenges on their journeys, and it was wise to keep many deities in mind.  I asked her what she knew of Lashana, and she told me that the Lady of Justice was perhaps too zealous at times, and far too strict with her practices for a free-roaming people like them, though her displeasure with the Empire was certainly well-placed and appreciated.

As evening approached, Satella returned and was brought to us.  She was welcomed as I had been, as had several others from the city throughout the day, I noticed, as they came to conduct some business or visit with a friend.  Emika bid us stay with them for the night, and so we did, mingling with others of the clan now, listening to more stories that were told that evening; though these were told mainly for the children, I was fully absorbed into them, for we had no such history or tales of our own in the Empire.  After dinner, there was more dancing and singing, and this time I was drawn into the festivities by members of the clan who insisted Satella and I dance with them.  Though it had been some time since I had danced, and their dances were different from those with which I was familiar, I remembered my training and quickly adapted, and found it rather amusing that Satella, for all her agility and knowledge of the Arts, struggled to keep up.

It was perhaps the most fun I’d had in my life, almost like every trouble was forgotten, at least for a short while, and for the very briefest of times, I had forgotten what it was like to be a slave.  I was so very glad Satella had been there to experience the night with me, and joined me in the tent we were given for the night.

#Lore24 – Entry #148 – Muckenmyre Month #27 – Entertainment and Invitations

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

The first of the songs I would hear that night came to an end with a round of applause and shouts for more as we descended to the common room.  As we descended the stairs, I thought of the sound of their speech, and, though I hadn’t thought much of it during my earlier distress, realized that their way of speaking was much different from what I had been taught.  They spoke with odd inflections, saying familiar words with different stresses on different syllables, generally spoke faster and almost with a slurring to the words, not to mention the many words I did not recognize and had to puzzle out from the context of the song.  As their next song began, I would have to force myself to pay close attention to the words, which were just as familiar as they were strange.

I saw a few kerryn in the gathered crowd, dressed more like the people of Ryanathyr, dining with humans or dwarves or elves, and upon the stage in the corner of the room were the kerryn nomads, in their brightly colored sashes and ribbons, two men, three women.  We had spotted Jessiryn and Augra in the opposite corner, and at his motion, came to their table as the next song began.  He knew of my earlier distress, and I assured him that I was more or less back to normal and would explain myself later. 

The nomad men and one of the women started playing their instruments, one a flute, one a lute, and the third a small hand drum, the second woman standing aside and humming along with the tune as the song began, the last beginning to sway slowly along with the music, ringing the small cymbals upon her fingers.  After a slow buildup, the music sped up, the pace quickening as the singer’s voice strengthened and she sang, the dancer beginning to sway her body and show off her curves, shaking her hips and backside to the delight of the men in the crowd.  Her dances were not entirely unfamiliar, and though I had some familiarity with the nature of the dance, the feel of the performance was entirely different.  There was a different kind of passion at work behind their song and dance, a true love of the art, the desire to share their expression with the crowd. 

As I watched, I began to listen more closely to the lyrics of the song, to process the inflections, tones, and subtle shifts in the way they spoke, the different way they phrased certain things to a dd a lyrical quality to the words that had never been part of the corruption of the language taught to me by the Stellae Illustris.  The song told a whimsical story, of a traveler going from one town to another, and their many amorous activities along the way and the troubles that followed.  During the especially bawdy parts, which were honestly rather tame compared to what I had experienced as a pleasure slave in my homeland, the dancer moved amongst the crowd, shedding her clothes more and more as she went until she was down to a skimpy, diaphanous outfit that barely hid anything.

The song shifted seamlessly into another, this one at an even faster pace and without words, which prompted the dancer to take to the bar and to the tables, effortlessly leaping upon them, gyrating and twirling about, her silks swirling around her, earning cheers for her acrobatic and erotic display.  She made sure to visit each table, leaping between them, landing without disturbing the food and drink that lay atop them. 

She visited our table last, dipping low toward me, and I heard her whisper “Seek us out after our performance, sister,” before she went twirling off to the stage once again as the song came to an end.  Though I felt some amount of apprehension at the invitation, I likely would have done so regardless, though I was curious as to why she had invited me to join them.  There was another, slower song following, then the singer took a break while the band played a jovial tune, and the dancer went amongst the crowd, collecting her discarded sashes along with any coin that was offered for their services. 

My spirits had undoubtedly lifted by the time the kerryn had finished up for the evening, much of the crowd making their way out of the tavern at the late hour.  As the entertainers took to their own table and finally sat to enjoy some food and drink of their own, I noticed that one more seat had been brought to their table and took it as confirmation of their invitation.  I excused myself from my companions, Satella patting my arm encouragingly, and came to their table bowing in greeting, and speaking our language openly for the first time, though after hearing their songs, I felt as if I spoke it as a child speaking her first words.  They were amused my formality as I introduced myself, and much less formally introduced themselves in return.  The dancer was named Shani, the singer Kiri, the lutist Kinjo, the flutist Yukiyo, and the drummer Takeji. 

Takeji admitted that he had witnessed me on the street earlier, saw my distress and sudden rush into the tavern.  As he spoke, I asked him to slow down, for I had trouble following his speech, and explained to him that my knowledge of the language was only gained recently.  He approached the subject gently but had surmised that I was originally from the Empire, perhaps an escaped slave.  The truth was hardly as simple as that, but I explained the short version of what had brought me to Ryanathyr, noting how my dialect and pronunciations differed from theirs, even when they slowed their speech and shifted their words.  They knew of a handful of others who had escaped from their slavery, not amongst their own clan, but encountered during their travels, said that they had stood out much like I did by their very formal ways of dealing with others. 

We spoke for some time, not of the Empire, but of their journeys across the land, of the cities and towns that lay beyond Ryanathyr.  There were many kerryn nomads clans as I would learn, but many more who lived amongst the other races in the cities and towns, and even cities and regions that they called their own, that they ruled for themselves.  I could hardly believe what they told me to be true, but my inquisitor’s honed perception told me they spoke no words that were not true, or at least, that they believed untrue. 

Before any of us knew it, midnight had come and gone, and our fatigue had grown considerably.  Takeji extended an invitation for me to visit their caravan the following day, to speak to their clan elder if I wished to know more about them or their histories.  I was undeniably curious to know more, and accepted, seeing them out of the inn before I too retired for the night, my companions having done so much earlier in the evening. 

#Lore24 – Entry #147 – Muckenmyre Month #26 – The Truths We Are Taught

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

Immediately, my mind scrambled to come up with a proper report to my fellow Stellae Illustris, for surely they had come here seeking me, likely for dereliction of my duty and failure during my pursuit of the rebels.  I would be punished severely, of course, but it would be what was required after all, and perhaps, with enough time I could work my way back up to prove my loyalty to the Emperor and…

Then the parts of my brain that had been awakened to a different way of life began to assert themselves.  I finally realized Satella was trying to get my attention, asking me what was wrong, scanning the crowd for some undetected threat. 

Finally I focused on the source of the conversation.  It was odd that the Stellae Illustris would speak so openly in our secret tongue…and then I focused on the actual words that were being spoken.  It wasn’t some reprimand or command to me, rather a jovial conversation, recounting some part of a recent journey, the troubles with a wagon along the road, the sights that had been along the way.  My eyes fell upon the speakers, one of the humans, wearing the garb of a merchant, speaking to…a kerryn man wearing dusty travelers’ clothes in bright colors.  I watched in utter fascination at the casual nature of this conversation, at how they switched back to common after a few moments, the merchant clapping his friend on the back and leading him inside his shop, and slowly it dawned upon me a new truth.

I began to hear more snippets of the language being spoken, and I looked to the eastern part of the square, saw more kerryn in the nearest parts of the market, dressed in all manner of colors and styles, chatting amongst themselves, seemingly without a care in the world, easily switching back to the common tongue when they spoke with the merchants.

I managed to stammer a question to Satella, to make certain that the language they spoke was as I now suspected, and, with a look of absolute shock upon her face, she confirmed what had taken me so long to puzzle out.

It was not a secret tongue the Stellae Illustris spoke amongst themselves in their clandestine activities.

It was the kerryn tongue. 

It was a language that belonged to the kerryn!  We had our own language!

In all my life, such a thing had never even seemed a possibility, that we kerryn could ever have our own language.  I knew many tongues, certainly, for it was required during my normal slave training, but it wasn’t until I was formally accepted into the Stellae Illustris and proved my loyalty that I was taught their “secret” language, with its complex script and rapid speaking pace. 

Heart pounding in my chest, my mind unable to process anything for the moment, I staggered toward the inn, earning some puzzled looks from those who passed us on the street.  Satella, my dear friend, was there for me once again, taking hold of me and helping me to our shared room.  I cried then, pouring out some of the many decades of pain that had built up within me, holding onto her for dear life, any semblance of self-control I had possessed shattered. 

The Empire, and the long line of Emperors and all of those serving it, had taken our very language from us, had enslaved us and taught us that we were so much less than others within the Empire, that we could not be free, lest we break the world again.  We were allowed only the “freedoms” they permitted, had to be controlled and kept in line at all times.  If they could steal our language from us, erase all record of it save that which they would allow us to have once we had proved ourselves loyal enough…what else could they have taken?  What “truths” had we been given that were anything but? 

How much had truly been taken from us if our own language was now used against us, made a reward for the Stellae Illustris who would police our own kind?

It was late into the evening when I finally came to something that resembled my senses, or at least, had managed to stop bawling as I had been.  As I lay in the bed, curled up with my head in Satella’s lap, her fingers gently running through my hair and along my ears to comfort me, I heard more of my language in the air, this time in song, coming from the common room below, heard the jovial music that accompanied the singer’s voice. 

It was perhaps the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

Finally picking myself up, giving Satella another strong embrace and thanking her sincerely for her friendship, I resolved to learn more about my people.  I quickly washed my face and made some semblance of order with my appearance, and together we ventured downstairs.

#Lore24 – Entry #146 – Muckenmyre Month #25 – Inside the House of the Lady of Justice

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

Entering into the temple, I found the interior to be somewhat sparse and simple in decoration, seeing Lashana’s symbol on display prominently on the wall hangings, but the actual area of worship reminded me more of a court room, with several rows of simple benches for seating, a box not unlike that a judge would sit behind instead of a more typical pulpit, even tables set before it like those that would be used by two parties presenting their cases, though these were currently filled with unremarkable pewter and silver candle holders, bowls, and the like.  I could see a trial being held here, and later, I would learn that was exactly what it was used for at times.

My eyes then went to the gray stone effigy of Lashana that stood above the altar, about ten feet tall, appearing as a human woman, eyes hidden by a red silk blindfold, wearing unremarkable robes while holding a scabbarded bastard sword in her hands, the scales upon the pommel balanced while large braziers bathed her in their light from either side.  I couldn’t exactly say then why I felt my heart racing as I looked upon her image and wouldn’t understand the reason until much later.

I was approached by a dwarven man after a few moments when I did not move from the doorway, his robes gray but fringed with a trio of silver threaded bands at the wrists and similar scrollwork on his chest and the collar of the robes.  His hair was brown and had more gray than not, the same with his neatly trimmed beard, and he wore silver-framed spectacles low on his nose.  He greeted me directly, introducing himself as Justicar of the Temple Detran Grayforge, asking if I sought justice, knowledge, vengeance, or perhaps a confession.  My confusion must have been plain upon my face, and certainly I couldn’t immediately form a response, for he then smiled and bid me to follow him to one of the benches to explain what it was that brought me into the Lady’s house.

I explained the business which had brought me to Ryanathyr specifically, which he seemed to heartily approve of, calling it “the Lady’s Work”, but then I explained that I was not of these lands and had come from the Empire, his visage darkening, and then rolled up my sleeve to reveal my slave brand, admitting that I knew nothing of Lashana, had only heard her name a few minutes before.  I sensed that some kind of anger had welled up in him, but he quickly hid it, rising and bidding me to follow him.  He led me behind the altar and into some of the private chambers reserved for confessions, retrieved a pitcher of water and cups for us, and we began to speak of why Lashana was not worshiped in my homeland.

I could not believe his words at first, my mind, long trained to reject such thoughts, immediately sounding the alarm bells of heresy.  The story he told me of the Great Cataclysm made no sense, contradicted most of what I had been taught, especially regarding the role the kerryn played in the events that lead to the upheaval of the world.  How could I believe that we were not responsible for the great breaking, that our goddess had been taken from us through treachery and conspiracy by demons, deities, and mortals alike?  He told me that our people had continued to fight on in the face of madness that swept through most of our priesthood when our goddess fell, against the Elvish Dominion that sought our downfall for our alliance with the long-extinct aerian people, that we had tried to stop the very cataclysm that we are blamed for within the Empire.  To add more to my confusion, he also told me that not everyone sees history in such a way, that the Elvish Greathouses tell a different story, that their accounts support the idea that the kerryn were the ones who brought forth the demons, that many more have their own histories that muddle the truth.  Lashana herself is quite clear on the matter, however, for she witnessed the downfall of Saressh, and this great injustice is what she seeks to avenge, and why she cannot be worshipped within the Empire.

So many things had just been told to me, so many contradictions to the truths I had been taught from birth, the facts of life that I knew to be just that.  I had never conceived that there could be another point of view, that I may have been lied to by the very Emperor I served with my utmost devotion.

It took some time before I realized that he had told me the name of the kerryn mother goddess, and that this was the first time I had ever heard her name. 

Saressh. 

I was completely overwhelmed by this point, feeling as if my entire world had suddenly collapsed.  I could detect no deception in Justicar Grayforge’s words, no signs that he was trying to deceive me for some other purpose.  I had tears in my eyes, running down my face to fall upon my hands.  He laid a hand upon my shoulder, offered a prayer to Lashana to give me strength, to light my way in this time of vulnerability. 

I’m not sure how long it took for me to recover from my initial shock, but once I had regained control of my faculties, I excused myself, for I did not want to worry Satella.  I had far too much weighing in my mind now that I had to sort through, and it would take a long time for me to do so.  He understood, wished me the best on my journey, and said that I would be in his prayers, that I would be welcome within Lashana’s temple should I need a place to go.  Before he saw me to the door, though, he offered me a parting gift, a small book that explained Lashana’s faith, the nature of her justice, and of the Great Injustice she sought to remedy. 

I thanked him, holding the book to my chest once I departed.  I found Satella sitting nearby, and she immediately came to me, embracing me, for she could tell I was unsettled.  After enjoying the comfort of her embrace for some moments, I thanked her, and we made our way back toward the inn; it was already dark beneath the trees, though the sky above showed the sun was just now setting. 

As we approached the inn, my thoughts churning with uncertainty and many questions I had never before thought to ask, my heart nearly leapt from chest as we came upon the square near the inn.  My ears rose, and I froze in place, daring not even to breathe, for I heard voices speaking in a language I had not heard since I set out on my ill-fated voyage to the Dragon Isles.

It was the secret language of the Stellae Illustris.

#Lore24 – Entry #145 – Muckenmyre Month #24 – The City of Ryanathyr

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

As we approached the northern end of the Grimbridge Way, I could smell fresher air blowing in, a different smell to the coming rains.  Then, the trees that had created the tunnel over the Way began to thin out, the line of Witch Lights came to an end, and the marshland began to fade, replaced with some low grasslands leading towards a forest of tall trees, a handful of farms lining the road into the woods.  We came upon a patrol from Ryanathyr around midday as we neared the edge of the woods, and they turned about to escort us into the city.

As we drew closer, and the trees grew tall around us, I saw that they were not packed as densely as those of the Muckenmyre, and there were other farms and small homes nestled in the larger clearings as we approached the city.  Soon the trees grew larger still, their trunks reaching far over head, many growing to twenty, thirty, perhaps even fifty feet or more in diameter, their limbs spreading far overhead for double or even triple the distance.  Though little light came through the high canopy, there were abundant lanterns along the roadway, as well as some luminescing insects floating around, similar to those I’d seen in the swamps. 

Nearing the outskirts of Ryanathyr, I began to see the walls of the city that had been built throughout the trees, a mixture of worked stone and strategically placed trees, providing cover for the defenders that patrolled atop them, and covered vantage points for the handful of sharpshooters I managed to spot who were well hidden within the foliage.  I didn’t get the impression they were on any kind of alerted status, but they were still plenty of eyes watching out along the road, and probably plenty more along the walls I hadn’t seen.  Above the city, the trees opened up into a massive clearing, allowing the dull, cloud-covered light through onto the city proper.  We passed through large wooden gates that still seemed to be made of still-living wood, and two more before we reached the actual city, the areas on the outer ring filled with the lower-class neighborhoods, the middle ring consisting of shops, craftsmen, and travelers’ rests, amongst other businesses, and the innermost section of the city housing the city’s rulers, temples, nobility, and wealthier merchants, as Ashley graciously explained to us.  The city was tiny compared to Draconis Magna, would barely equal one of its smaller districts, in fact, but after being in such a town as Grimbridge, it seemed quite magnificent indeed.

Our business with the magistrate was fairly straightforward and without much in the way of discussion:  the constable handled the briefing, the signed documents were passed over and examined, the prisoners accepted, the twins being properly secured with grounding bands before they were unbound, and the lot hauled off to the city jail until other arrangements could be made for their just punishments.  Our noblewoman gave her statement to the magistrate, fingering Jaggedtusk, and Ashley was quick to corroborate her testimony, swearing his solemn oath upon his honor that it was the truth.  With that out of the way, the magistrate bid our party to enjoy the city for the night, and any due rewards would be handed over in the morning following additional paperwork; even here the bureaucracy grinds ever slowly, it seems.

My duty for now ended, Satella and I walked about the city, Jessiryn and Augra their own business until we would meet up later in the evening at a nearby inn.  Satella had come through before when she had first come to Grimbridge after receiving her vision from Yurisaya regarding me, so had some knowledge of the city.  We ventured back into the trade district first, walking through the markets and sampling some of the sweets on offer.  Though I still felt a sense of impropriety at my actions, I still found myself becoming more and more used to them…simply going about as I pleased, not having to inflict pain, to train or retrain my brothers and sisters, only putting those to the question who had broken the law…it all seemed much more…right somehow.

We had wandered back through to the temple district as evening approached, a light rain beginning to fall as we did.  Many temples, while of different construction than within the Empire, bore familiar trappings and symbols, but one stood out for I did not recognize the symbol displayed upon its doors, that of a long-bladed sword with its point downward, a pair of scales balancing worked into the pommel, backed by the outline of a flame.  Seeing where my focus lay, Satella explained that this was the House of Justice, dedicated to Lady Lashana, goddess of justice, law, and righteous vengeance.  When I explained that I had not heard of her, nor seen her symbol within the Empire, she explained that was intentional, for Lashana sought justice that the Empire is unwilling to commit to.  With her usual smile, Satella placed her hand upon my back and nudged me forward, suggesting that I should discover for myself what it was she spoke of. 

Feeling some apprehension at entering the temple of such an unfamiliar deity, I was nonetheless curious as to why she would be omitted from worship within the Empire and felt myself being drawn inside.

#Lore24 – Entry #62 – Fantasy Month #2 – Draconis Magna, Capital of the Empire

 

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos:

 

It seems Felaria has addressed my complaints about specificity and given me a simpler prompt for today:  Draconis Magna, the Imperial capitol.  Surely, I could voice complaint about specificity once again, as discussing the capital is no simple task for the fountain of knowledge overflows with the broadness of the subject, but since Mother has narrowed focus, then I shall obediently oblige.

The seat of the Great Dragon Emperor, blessed and chosen of the gods to reign over the great Imperium Draconis, the throne currently held by Luxus Drakon Raikos the Fourth; for the sake of brevity I shall not list his many, MANY titles, otherwise I would be here far longer than is required of this entry.  I feel that I must pause here in my discussion of the capital and note the insistence upon draconic imagery and naming conventions throughout the empire when true dragons have been gone from this world since times predating the Great Cataclysm two thousand years ago; it is truly astounding to me that their legends have continued to persist for so long, especially in the minds of humans, and that their nature can evoke such thoughts of power and dominance amongst the populace.  I would have thought that demonic iconography would have found greater prominence given their pervading influences since the Cataclysm and higher than average population of demon-blooded throughout the Empire than other parts of the world, but that is a mystery to discuss at another time, perhaps when Felaria feels the need to prompt me to do so.

Draconis Magna lies upon the shores of Gulf Draconum, upon the Dragon’s Breath delta at the mouth of the Great Goldenscale River, a country unto itself, really, a metropolis spanning some five-hundred square miles, the very heart of the Empire from which all power flows.  The city is well defended, housing a significant army and naval forces, as well as the Tower of the Grand Arcanum, the most powerful of arcanist orders.  All culture would seem to flow from here as well, as the city is known to be the center of the arts, filled with bards and artists of all kinds, chasing fame and fortune at the hands of the nobility, though by the time great works reach the ends of the Empire, they have long been out of fashion within the city itself.

The most powerful of the nobility reside here, vying for power and the ear of the Emperor, and perhaps, uncoincidentally, the variety of pleasures to be found is nigh unfathomable.  Supposedly if one seeks a particular form of entertainment, it can be found in Draconis Magna, no matter how vile it may be.  Having only visited the capital a handful of times myself, I have never experienced the darker side of the city’s pleasures, but the tales are too prevalent not to hold some truth.  It is the kerryn slaves I feel for the most in this regard, for they are the ones suffering the worst the city has to offer, and of course it is by the Emperor’s decree, dating back many centuries, so who would possibly argue against what happens to them?  There have been attempts to overturn the decree of course, but such protests have not lasted long, and quite often those involved have vanished under not-at-all mysterious circumstances.

There does seem to be growing unrest within the high walls of Draconis Magna by many accounts from visitors to the library.  Rumors of rebellion in the outlying regions continue to grow, and some wonder if the Emperor’s power is on the decline after the family has held power for so many generations.  Supposedly even the slaves, kerryn and otherwise, are growing discontent and starting trouble, but as yet, I have no actual proof of this.  Perhaps this is why the Emperor has begun efforts to expand the empire further, and has been seeking lost relics in the many ruins found in the wildlands, and is even looking across the seas to other lands to plunder?  It seems a time of unrest may not be far off, if history is to be repeated.  Perhaps it is even time for a new age to be born, however violently, into existence?

Originally posted on the main Urbanverse site, December 19th, 2020.

 

Welcome back to the campaign design series!  The last entry was fairly basic as to what is discussed, but this time, we’ll be delving into something much more interesting (at least to a good portion of my readers, if I had to guess):  The whorehouse!

 

THE Whorehouse of Whorehouses

So, what’ the big idea here?  What makes this place renowned around the world as THE whorehouse?

Well, that’s exactly what we’re here to figure out!

The basic idea here is that the PCs are going to find their way to a whorehouse eventually, just as soon as they have some spare gold in their pouches, so why not make it something a bit more grand?  It should be a hub of adventure and intrigue, certainly, filled with unique personalities and a variety of entertainment to enjoy.  Further, it should be a place they’ll want to return to, will want to protect.  Given the larger campaign I’m developing based on the Mind Flayer trilogy, it seems very much like a place that would be a wonderful spot to bed down for a very prolonged winter, with no shortage of potential paranoia to build and develop during the height of the first adventure book.

To further develop the whorehouse, I’ve been thinking of the enchanter’s arcane school that’s also in the city, as well as the unique dual temple to Erisaya and Yurisaya (The Goddesses of Love and Carnal Desire respectively).  Both would seem to be very likely to be associated closely with the whorehouse, with some certain amount of crossover between personalities and functions. For example, maybe the arcane school students are allowed to practice their enchantment magic in the confines of the whorehouse, and the Eri/Yuri temple keeps the working boys and girls healthy.

Then there’s the very high probability of there being some gambling aspect to the place, if not a dedicated casino located nearby, so there would definitely be some crossover potential there.

And there’s likely going to be a theatre of sorts for the “high artsy” types, but with a kinky twist in that they host BDSM-themed shows with some audience participation aspects.  (In fact, this location and the casino were part of the same complex in a previous campaign!)

So, is the meat of the whorehouse simply a factor of location?  Is it central to everything else in Arcavarlon, perhaps?  Most of what I’ve mentioned so far seems fairly standard for a developed location in a campaign setting…and that’s not bad.  If it’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, you can’t plan your campaign around the actions of the players.  If you try that, you’re putting them on a railroad, and they’re not going to like you for it.  And I’ve got a particular player who excels in out of the box thinking and random acts of chaos, so I’ve developed my improvisation skills quite a bit over the years.  (I’m currently running a Call of Cthulhu campaign that takes place in the late 1990s that has been very much improvised game to game, so it’s taken on a less horror feeling, and more a 90s action movie feel, which is fine, cause the players are having a lot of fun with it).

Anyway, back on track (see what I did there?) to the whorehouse!  I’m not gonna lie; I’m struggling with developing this idea a bit (in fact, I’ve been working on this piece for about two months, and just haven’t made progress).  Part of it is the more improv nature of my DM style (getting used to following an adventure path again after so many years is going to be interesting), but the other part is simply the hype.  I mean, with a moniker like “The whorehouse of whorehouses”, you’re expecting quite a bit, right?  I know I am, and I’m just not certain I’m able to make it live up to my own hype.  A lot of it is going to be up to your own interpretation, and as I’m developing this for a larger campaign setting, there’s plenty of space for development down the line.  But, there needs to be some meat here, and not just the meat on display.  So, let’s go a bit deeper and focus on a few aspects of this place that we’ll continue to build off of down the line.

 

The Whorehouse (what’s in a name?)

So, what’s this place even called?  It needs a name…and I’ve already discussed how much I struggle with naming things in the last article. I suppose with a reputation like I’m going for, it could just get by being called ‘the Whorehouse’, but that just doesn’t sit well with me.  So, what to call such a renowned house of ill repute and intrigue within the walls of the City of a Thousand Delights? It’s kinda integral to the economy of the city, may have been one of the earliest businesses to form up in the city.  Perhaps it’s more than just a business…perhaps it has some amount of pull within the government in the city?  Is it part of the ruling council (or whatever type of government Arcavarlon has).

The House of a Thousand Delights would seem to be an obvious choice, but that seems a bit redundant given the nickname of the city itself.  Perfectly viable, perhaps it’s a nickname for the whorehouse, but I don’t want it to be the actual name.  Could go with a name relating to the Goddesses Erisaya and Yurisaya, but again, that’s going to be redundant with their shared temple somewhere within Arcavarlon.

In the interest of saving a bit of time, I’ll just say I’ve explored several keywords through the thesaurus to come up with a name I like with words that interest me.  With that in mind, I’m calling the whorehouse “The Palace of Boundless Felicity“.  Sounds grand enough, eh?

 

The Ladies of the Night (or any time, really)

Now that I’ve got a name, let’s get a few personalities into the Palace.

 

The Madame of the Palace
As of the current time within my campaign world, the head of the Palace is Madame Suzuka.  This character is actually one I’ve had brewing for a while and never fleshed out, so what better time than now?

Madame Suzuka appears as a shapely human woman with dark brown hair, wearing expensive, revealing silken kimonos with elegant designs woven throughout.  Though not a recluse, she is rather elusive, only making public appearances sporadically, though the workers of the palace seem to be quite familiar with her.  This has led her to have something of an unobtainable air about her, and her sporadic appearances tend to stir up a lot of talk amongst the patrons.  No small number of visitors have tried and failed to buy her for a night, though rumors abound that a lucky few have experienced her legendary prowess.

In truth, Suzuka is a kitsune bearing a curse.  She is a talented enchanter, amongst the most talented to have ever graduated from the local school in fact.  However, many years ago she ran afoul of a particularly powerful succubus who took particular pleasure in tormenting her victims, and her torments continue to linger in Suzuka’s case.  The nature of the curse was an overwhelming lust, a hunger for pleasure that could only be sated by nigh endless sex.  For a time, Suzuka was at a loss as to how to manage her affliction; no magic could relieve her desire for long enough to matter, and no spell could break the hold curse had upon her.  It was only through a series of novel magical devices that she could manage to function at all, though, over time, she has managed to mitigate the curse further to some extent, though she still searches for a way to break it completely.

And what are these magical devices?  Special chastity gear, tied to a series of magical crystals that absorb her lustful desires and diminish their effects to a bearable level.  One particular use for these crystals is to enhance the sense of desire throughout the Palace, which has had a very substantial effect of increasing profits to perhaps the highest they have ever been.  In some cases, additional sets of enchanted chastity gear with empty crystals are distributed amongst the younger members of the Palace, especially those who are adventuring or who are studying at the magic school, to act not only as a form of armor but as siphons that will draw off Suzuka’s lustful desires.  In practice, this serves as a method of teaching those wearing the devices to focus themselves in order to overcome the distracting nature of their (magically enhanced) lust.

 

The Wind from the Desert
Coming and going often without warning, never staying in one place for too long (usually only long enough to stir up passions, trouble, and usually both), the half-elven priestess of Erisaya known as Haluune Sirocco isn’t an uncommon sight in the Palace.  This dark-skinned, flame-haired elven woman hails from the southern deserts and travels frequently across the land, stopping at any Erisaya temples along the way, and frequenting most brothels as well.  Though more than willing to sell her services to customers in the brothels, Haluune’s preferred clients are actually the working boys and girls themselves.  Using her holy magic granted by her goddess along with various homemade concoctions, she helps to encourage a safe working environment by curing any illnesses the workers may have picked up.  She is also known to trade in jewelry and exotic perfumes she has picked up on her travels.

No stranger to adventure, Haluune is also an excellent traveling companion, well-versed in how to deal with various creatures that roam the roads and wilderness, especially undead and other supernatural threats.  She is frequently welcomed into caravans making long journeys, though she tends to avoid water-based travel if she can, feeling very uncomfortable if she’s away from solid ground (or mostly so, if she’s in the deserts she hails from).  Though well-traveled and knowledgeable of various cultures and customs, Haluune can be a bit dense at times.  For example, for the longest time, she thought that when orcs spit on her, it was a sign of respect, since they were sharing their precious water with her; she didn’t learn until later that it was actually the opposite and that many quite disliked her (mostly for her elven heritage).

 

Alisha (of the) Keys
Though not born in Arcavarlon, Alisha, also known as the Keeper of the Keys, has made the city, and the Palace, her home.  Though apparently human, she possesses a most unusual shade of light purple hair and brilliant purple eyes, indicating an unusual heritage, or some magical influence upon her blood in the past. She’s not telling, though, and nobody around the Palace seems interested (or perhaps they already know?).  Alisha’s duties are rather unique, as she is responsible for holding the keys for the various sets of enchanted chastity gear distributed by Madame Suzuka.  Not one to lord this fact over those who may be feeling rather desperate for release, she is never seen without a set of chastity gear of her own, though her set is much shinier and inlaid with gold and jewels.  She even has her own game that she likes to play, attaching dozens of keys to her chastity gear and various pieces of jewelry and offering patrons a chance to enjoy her pleasures for only a single silver piece…assuming they can pick the right key (and they only get one shot a day).

Alisha is known to be very evasive about her past, and rumors persist that there’s some great power hidden within the chastity gear she wears, though nobody has yet found the right key to unlock that particular secret. She acts as Suzuka’s eyes and ears around the Palace and often travels out into the city to discuss matters of a more boring (read: political) nature as a representative of the Palace itself.  She is known to be quite skilled with her hands and feet when it comes to delicate tasks (like picking locks or performing sleight of hand tricks), though she has never been known to carry a weapon, or even get into a fight.  She seems quite pleased to keep things peaceful and operating smoothly, though if you ask any of the girls and boys working at the Palace, her temper is to be feared, the stuff of legends.

 

Dungeon Mistress Zallista
As with the temple of Erisaya and Yurisaya, the Palace has a dark side, and its dungeons are regarded throughout the land as a place where one can experience the most intense of pleasures.  Though many of the workers here are worshipers of Yurisaya, there are more than a few who are not affiliated with the church, and simply enjoy walking the darker side.  Zallista Kaori is one such woman.  She is a tiefling, her blood tainted with a devilish heritage.  Though appearing somewhat elvish with her pointed ears and short auburn hair, Zallista bears a pair of curled horns upon her head and eyes that seem to dance with an inner fire, along with a long, slender tail. The multitude of piercings upon her face and body, some of them rather extreme, do little to improve first impressions.  Despite her hellish appearance, Zallista comes off as cold, detached, and uncaring, speaking and interacting little even when she is inflicting pain upon a client.

Though her past is a mystery to most at the Palace, she is known to be an archer of unparalleled ability and has spent some amount of time upon the seas, having arrived in Arcavarlon some years ago during a running battle with an opposing group of pirates.  It was during this heated battle throughout the city’s ports that she met Suzuka, and decided to stay at the Palace, though only they know the particulars of that arrangement.  Though apparently, it involved Zallista becoming the mistress of the dungeons, and she has garnered a reputation for strict discipline (of workers as well as clients) and giving only the most intense experiences.  It isn’t uncommon that a healer must be called to assist her clients in walking out of the Palace, though those brave enough to take her on are never left disappointed.

 

Adventure Hooks

Now that we have fleshed out some of the characters one may encounter at the Palace of Boundless Felicity, we’ll need some adventure hooks.  No way the players are going into a place like this without leaving with something else on their plates to draw them back in! Or draw them in for the first time, even!

  1. The party is traveling on a stretch of road a few hours outside of Arcavarlon when they come upon a body lying dead on the road.  The deceased traveler is covered in what looks like whiplashes and bruises, most noticeable around wrists and ankles as if they were bound.  A journal gives clues that they are a local noble, and the last entry mentions visiting Dungeon Mistress Zallista at the Palace.
  2. The party has just arrived in Arcavarlon and are in need of food and drink after a long journey.  Before they can even get their first pints of ale, the city guard comes in with a local woman, pointing at one of the PCs and swearing that they assaulted them the night before just outside the Palace.
  3. A local locksmith comes to the party, having heard of their capabilities from past exploits, asking for assistance with a problem.  He had been working on a special order of locks and keys for one of the ladies at the Palace, but thieves broke in the night before and stole them.  Due to some bad blood between himself and one of the guard captains due to a girl at the Palace, he can’t go to the guard for help.
  4. Love is in the air!  Literally, it seems, because a strange pink mist appeared around the Palace this morning, and ever since the locals have been going at it like rabbits.
  5. Brothels come and go in Arcavarlon, but not quite like this.  A smaller brothel that had been going through a recent surge in popularity suddenly vanishes, the building and everyone in it at the time.  The owner swears that it has to be the Palace’s doing, trying to make sure nobody else has a chance in the city.
  6. As the PCs traverse the city taking care of some mundane tasks, a young man approaches them and thrusts a pair of expensive panties into their hands, muttering “I’m sorry” before running off and getting lost in the crowd. Moments later a group of shadowy thugs appears, one of them yelling “Grab those panties!”
  7. A group of orc warriors shows up in town one day, looking for a dark-skinned, red-haired elven woman who they’ve been tracking for some time.  They intend to haul her back to their homeland for her crimes against the clan, having stolen several treasures when she passed through.  It just so happens that one or more of the PCs are with such a woman at the time.
  8. After clearing out a dungeon, the party finds a particularly ornate box containing an even more exquisite sex toy, with a note from an unnamed lover addressed to the Madame of the Palace.  While in their possession, any adversaries they encounter along the road seem to be more interested in making love than war.
  9. The party has been called upon by the Madame herself.  It seems one of the younger apprentices is overdue to return from their first adventure in the mountains close to a nearby mining town.  She’s worried that a particular gentleman caller who had been asking about them the previous week may be involved.
  10. One or more PCs awaken in one of the Palace’s beds one morning, feeling tired and sore, but they’re not sure why.  The workers who greet them tell of a night of wild pleasures, but the PCs have no memory of such things, nor do they seem to be short of coin or other valuables.

Originally posted on the main Urbanverse site on September 30th, 2020.

 

Welcome to the first in what will hopefully be a fairly long series of articles discussing my campaign creation processes.  In this particular case, I do have it a bit simpler than I usually do since I’m just going to be reworking and modifying a couple of existing adventures.  But, over the years, I’ve never tried developing my fantasy setting more fully; I’ve had bits and pieces somewhat fleshed out, written plenty of fiction set there, but still have a lot of gaps that need to be filled.

So, with that in mind, I’m starting off with some thoughts on the process of developing a particular city I’ve had in my head for some time.  Since the “Lost Mine of Phandelver” adventure is set near Neverwinter, and the Mind Flayer trilogy begins within a city of comparable size that wasn’t particularly fleshed out in the adventure books (though it is to some extent in other books, as I understand), it seems a natural place to begin.  My hope is to make this city a hub of sorts for the campaign I’ll be crafting, with various hooks for side adventures that may or may not relate to the ultimate goal of stopping the mind flayer scheme.

What I Want From this City
First off, what do I want this city to feature?

  1. A name.  This one may seem obvious, but given my historical difficulties at naming things, it’s a challenge that needs to be overcome.
  2. A lakeside/seaside location with a river flowing through the city proper.  Makes sense for a trade hub and cultural center to have good accessibility.
  3. THE Whorehouse of whorehouses.  This is the big idea that’s been bouncing around my head for quite a while; the most famous/infamous whorehouse in the land is located here.
  4. A magic academy (which may or may not be tied to the whorehouse) specializing in enchantment magic.  Seems appropriate, no? This way the girls and boys have multiple ways to practice their charms.
  5. A shared temple to the goddesses of love (Erisaya and Yurisaya, one light, one dark); again, may be tied to the whorehouse in some way.  But this shared temple will have some great significance to both faiths.
  6. A wide variety of NPCs, businesses, factions, plot hooks, etc.  Pretty standard stuff at its core; the trick is to make them memorable and important to the players.

What’s in a Name?
Perhaps the most challenging aspect of this kind of thing for me…what to name the city?  I’ve always struggled for names, and that’s usually the case 99% of the time; sometimes I just have something come to mind that fits perfectly, but most of the time not. It always seems like the names that I run through just don’t fit; it’s probably just me grasping for perfection, and eventually, I wind up going for some kind of randomly generated name.  I tried that here, but nothing stood out as what I wanted.  This time, however, I had a different train of thought that seems to have worked out.

I had a trio of names come to mind as I thought about the city the other night:  Avalon, Avarice, and Arcadia.  Great names, sure, with some mythological/historical and literal meaning behind them, but I didn’t want to just use one of them for this city.  So, I started playing around with them:

Avalonia Avadia Arcalon Arcadilon
Avaradia Avarilia Arcarice Arcadion
Arcavalon Arcavarice Arcavarlon Avaralonia

As you can see, there are now quite a few more names that sound fitting for a fantasy setting, more than I needed for this exercise, but that just leaves more for later.

With all those choices, it just comes down to which one I like the best…which wound up taking a bit longer to decide upon than I’d hoped it would.  Nevertheless, I’ve decided to go with Arcavarlon.

Arcavarlon – City of a Thousand Delights
Now that I have a name I can be satisfied with (and a few more I’ll likely use down the line), I can start fleshing out the city itself.  And to do that, I’m going to need to develop some idea of the general layout of the city, keeping in mind the particular geography I’ve mentioned, and the currently known important locations (THE whorehouse, magic school, and the Erisaya/Yurisaya temple).

Starting with the geography…I know it’s lakeside or seaside, with a river running through the city to meet the larger body of water.  It’s also located within a few days’ travel of a more mountainous region (conveniently enough to assist with my upcoming conversion work on the Lost Mine of Phandelver adventure), and will likely have a few smaller communities in the surrounding region.

As luck would have it (perhaps bad luck in this case), I’d started a little campaign several years ago in which we played perhaps two or three games, and that was it.  I did, however, draw a few maps for this short-lived campaign, one of which was an area map.  As Arcavarlon was intended to be part of this campaign world, I’m pulling that map out of storage, and intend to eventually revamp it.  For now, though, here’s the rough map:

There are no doubt some issues with the placement of certain geologic features here, and that’s something to be looked into further down the line, but for now, the upper left area would be where I’m going to focus.  Seems to me like a perfect region for the great city of Arcavarlon and the upcoming campaign.  And as you can see, there are plenty of additional locations to flesh out in the entire region, if I so decided, or if the players veer waaaay off course.

But what are the chances of that?

…

You know what…I’m gonna flesh out the surrounding region a bit more…for reasons…

That’s two of the six big items on my list, and that’s where I’m going to leave things for now.  In the next volume of this series, I’ll be looking into some further development of the city proper, and on the attraction that put the place on the map… THE whorehouse of whorehouses!

Until next time!