The Campaign Builder's Guild

This is a quick and dirty list of the core concepts for a weird fantasy setting I've been working on, which revolves mostly around courtly intrigue. I know there isn't a ton of it, but I want to see what sort of impression it makes on you all.


The Manticore Gardens are a colossal pleasure-palace; large enough to house thousands while still have room enough for much of the interior to be rarely-explored. Something of a tiered tower, the architecture is a synergy of Byzantine, Islamic, and Indian styles, with lots of arches and open ceilings. Everything is colorful and made from beautiful or precious materials.

The world outside the Gardens matters little to anyone within them. The lands immediately surrounding it are a flat, bone-white desert, and it sits on the shore of a midnight-blue ocean. More does exist, of course, as dignitaries travel fast distances to visit the pleasure of the Manticore Gardens.

The well-defined hierarchy is as follows: Sovereign Babylon > Dragons > Nobles > Knights > Thralls

Sovereign Babylon is the enigmatic, undisputed ruler and creator of the Manticore Gardens. While Her physical vessel is that of a human girl barely come of age, She has the aura of something far more terrible lurking behind the veil.

Dragons are Babylon's viziers and advisors, all of them ancient monsters in their own right and most decidedly non-anthropomorphic in appearance. They have their own, often convoluted agendas, and many Nobles owe some sort of fealty to one or more Dragon.

Nobles are immortal courtiers who have had their souls transmuted by Babylon into Golden Essences, the youngest of them at least a century old. While they vary wildly in appearance, they are bound by the Anthropomorphic Dictate, so they are all at least roughly-human.

Knights are servants, bodyguards, valets, etc. to the Nobles. While they have no real status or authority in and of themselves, they are sufficiently valuable that it is considered in bad taste to kill one that isn't yours.

Thralls are the meat that feeds the Manticore Garden. They are nameless creatures used from everything from fighting to fucking to eating.

Golems are artificial automata, crafted from any number of materials.

Tulpa are intelligent spirit-forms created to assist courtiers or otherwise perform some intellectual task, like a magical AI program.

Babylon lets the Nobles of the Gardens do entirely as they please as long as it doesn't interfere with her own desires. So, with all of their needs sated, they are free to focus entirely on their wants: they gossip, bicker, flirt, fuck, duel, gamble, throw parties, feast on strange dishes, drink all manner of potent beverages, ingest every sort of narcotic imaginable, peruse ancient volumes, practice music instruments, craft works of art, and many other things.

Perhaps the most important device in the Gardens is the Uranus Loom, the source of the fantastic physical vessels the courtiers inhabit. Rather than producing cloth, the Loom weaves together living bodies out of a variety of "threads": animal, plant, alchemical, stars, dreams, corpses, etc.

There are several types of magic practiced by the denizens of the Manticore Gardens. Gross Alchemie, transmuting the outward substance of the world. Subtle Alchemie, transmuting the inward substance of the soul. Divination, sort of a cross between clairsentience and omen-reading like casting bones or drawing cards. High Summoning, the conjuring of beings alien to this reality.

Well, there are some interesting ideas here. Truth be told, it's not immediately to my taste, but I would be interested in learning more.

My main questions:

• Why were the Manticore Gardens built in the first place? The grand legacy of a powerful, mad, ostentatious emperor that Sovereign Babylon came to inherit, or maybe the secret part of a conspiracy? From the descriptions, it seems there's not a lot of practical reasons for it to be there.
• Are the Thralls basically Human, or a different species entirely?
• When you say they are used for food, do you mean the Thralls themselves are eaten, or are they forced into maintaining vast artificial farms within building?
• How is the richness of the Manticore Gardens maintained? On the backs of the slaving thralls, on a thriving sea trade, or on the skills of the Alchemists?
• Lastly, what kind of roles would the players take in this setting? Thralls, who work to start a revolution; Courtiers, who seem to work only to their own ends, or any kind desired?

Its definitely an interesting concept, even if it doesn't fit usual preconceptions. I look forward to reading more about it.

This could be good! Interesting location. I have trouble placing it in "the world" so to speak. Are they self-sufficient? What do the dignitaries bring back home from the court? Does the Sovereign Babylon interfere with the outside world or is she focused on her own domain? Has she ever been deposed/replaced?
I can't quite settle on how to visualize this:
Is it a hedonistic fantasy Las Vegas set on the Plateau of Leng?
Is it dreamlike place near the edges of the known world?
Is it a physical place inhabited by mighty beings akin to a cthonic Olympus or chinese/japanese heaven?

Quote from: Skyfire

• Why were the Manticore Gardens built in the first place? The grand legacy of a powerful, mad, ostentatious emperor that Sovereign Babylon came to inherit, or maybe the secret part of a conspiracy? From the descriptions, it seems there's not a lot of practical reasons for it to be there.

That's one of the big in-setting mysteries. Based upon the information that can be gleaned from those outside of it and the accounts of the eldest Dragons, the Manticore Gardens are at least as old as the oldest kingdoms. And according to rumor, it was the Sovereign Babylon who built it Herself, not that she'd ever confirm or deny that fact.

Quote from: Skyfire

• Are the Thralls basically Human, or a different species entirely?

They're human, but other courtiers frequently alter them to suit their own desires.

Quote from: Skyfire

• When you say they are used for food, do you mean the Thralls themselves are eaten, or are they forced into maintaining vast artificial farms within building?

Both.

Quote from: Skyfire

• How is the richness of the Manticore Gardens maintained? On the backs of the slaving thralls, on a thriving sea trade, or on the skills of the Alchemists?

Lots of ways. Thralls dredge up precious minerals from the living earth far beneath the Gardens themselves, foreign dignitaries bring huge offerings in exchange for the privileged to spend time within the walls and trade with courtiers for their crafts, foreign ships arrive every fortnight bearing precious cargo. It's also something of a mystery that I'm leaving open for the PCs to explore if they wish, and willing to ignore if they don't.

And finally, I intended for the PCs to take on the roles of Nobles and their retainers, along the lines of that they do in Ars Magica.

Quote from: Superfluous Crow
This could be good! Interesting location. I have trouble placing it in "the world" so to speak. Are they self-sufficient? What do the dignitaries bring back home from the court? Does the Sovereign Babylon interfere with the outside world or is she focused on her own domain? Has she ever been deposed/replaced?
I can't quite settle on how to visualize this:
Is it a hedonistic fantasy Las Vegas set on the Plateau of Leng?
Is it dreamlike place near the edges of the known world?
Is it a physical place inhabited by mighty beings akin to a cthonic Olympus or chinese/japanese heaven?

I'm intentionally leaving the rest of the world a mystery, to heighten the theme of the Gardens being a "gilded cage", so to speak. Babylon is as old as the Manticore Garden, and while there have been plots against her, she typically snuffs them out in secret or punishes the conspirators in the most graphically-public way possible, so they're not exactly common.

And as to your last question:

Why can't it be all three?

The Nobles of the Manticore Gardens sit in the middle of the hierarchy. Above them, the Sovereign Babylon, to who they all owe ultimate fealty, and Dragons, to which many swear lesser oaths and contracts. Below them, Knights, their servants and handmaids, and Thralls, whose very lives are at their disposal. Their needs fulfilled, they are left free to explore their every want instead, their desires, their curiosities.

Every Noble in the Gardens owes their existence to the Sovereign, for She is the one who transmutes their souls into Golden Essences. As a result, they are ageless, slow to wound and quick to heal, and capable of transmitting their ego between physical vessels. Some were Knights or thralls before this ascension, others part of the retinue of a foreign visitor. Some even claim to have been animals, even plants, the Sovereign Babylon giving them the gift of human shape as well as immortality. If there is rhyme or reason behind whom She chooses, She has never revealed it.

Nobles have the power to determine their own physical appearances, thanks to the wondrous creation known as the Uranus Loom. The only constraint placed upon them is the Anthropomorphic Dictate, which demands that every Noble must be human in shape, with two arms, two legs, and a head. Within those limits, however, they have nigh-total freedom of expression.

The Uranus Loom works by "spinning" strands, the essential substance of things, together into living bodies; a process which is both sorcerous and scientific. At its simplest, it allows Nobles to tailor small details of their bodies, the tone of their skin or the number of joints in their digits. It is capable, however, of so much more than that, for the substances it spins need not be limited human flesh and bone. The Loom can craft a vessel from the animal or the botanical, alchemical elements, unliving flesh, the substance of stars and emotions.

The result is Nobles with bodies of living marble, of water shaped into human form, like that of a predatory feline lifted up on two legs.

With eyes the exact color as a mournful sigh, the eightfold cluster of the arachnid or the multifaceted orbs of the dragonfly, eyes made of polished rubies, or filled with the evening stars.

With flickering flames for hair, or fleshy tentacles like those of an octopus, or spikes of jagged quartz crystal, or the blooming petals of a heliotrope.

With skin of olive bark or bony chitin or the tiny golden scales of a dragon, covered by a soft coat of downy fur or actually engraved with curling arabesques.

With prehensile tongues a foot in length, with thin webbing stretched between fingers, with teeth made of mother-of-pearl or set in many jagged rows, with flightless wings both feathered and filament, with all these and countless more permutations.

The sex of a Noble is far from binary. In fact, there are six: the male, the female, the true hermaphrodite, the masculine quasi-hermaphrodite, the feminine quasi-hermaphrodite, and the androgyne. To further complicate things, not every Noble necessarily identifies with the gender their physicality would suggest.

In the parlance of the Manticore Gardens, there are four pronouns:

He – the masculine pronoun, connoting strength, direction, brutality.

She – the feminine pronoun, connoting creation, subtlety, mania.

They – the androgynous pronoun, connoting neutrality, balance, dissociation.

Qe – the transgressive pronoun, connoting rebellion, willful deviance, the rejection of the norm.


Never wanting for food, drink, or shelter, utterly detached from the petty struggle of survival, and with all the future before them, Nobles are free to focus themselves entirely on indulging their wants, their desires, and their passions. The Manticore Gardens, as a monumental pleasure-palace, was designed for exactly this purpose, providing the means for exploring any interest or pastime imaginable.



Sex.

Sex is an ever-present part of life in the Manticore Gardens, one which takes countless forms.

Two Nobles not only exchange vows and ironwood rings, but each alters his physical form to more perfectly suit his husband's ideal.

A Knight is rewarded with an hour of pleasure for every fortnight she protects her Noble's person and privacy: after two decades, she finds her thoughts growing less and less professional.

A Noble, their face neither masculine nor feminine, their endowments both, takes an oath to bed every courtier in the Gardens.

A thrall catamite drifts in a haze of aphrodisiacs and psychotropics, brought out of it only to satisfy his twin keepers.

Whatever form it takes, from the product of a romantic entanglement to the satisfaction of base desires to a politically-motivated ploy, sex is everywhere. It is impossible to name anything else that even approaches the degree of influence sexuality has over how one thinks, acts, the way they dress, the art they enjoy, the company they keep. It should be no surprise then that it is at the root of much of the drama and intrigue that color the Gardens, fueling the social games that are so much a part of the average courtier's life.



Another common facet of life in the Gardens are the enormous variety of intoxicants courtiers regularly imbibe, shoot, snort, swallow, drink, smoke, and inject.

Some courtiers poison themselves to escape the banality of their eternal existence. Some seek to heighten the sensation of an already-pleasurable experience. An artist might require a spark to set her creative energies flowing. Still others do so with the intent of expanding their consciousness, experiencing waking dreams and vivid hallucinations. For some, it is part of a social engagement, like a tea party.

And some simply like the taste.

Mundane fare requires little effort to acquire. There are wines fermented from an number of fruit, beers, brandies, ales, liquors, whiskeys , rums. There are psychoactives, like cannabis, hashish, coca, opium, heroin, peyote, amphetamines, and all manner of hallucinogenic acids. All of these thing, grown and brewed within the bowels of the Gardens, and served on the silver platter of a waiting thrall to those who would but ask.

But there are more potent toxins still, in the lands beyond the Garden walls, and many a connoisseur has gone to great lengths to acquire but a the smallest of doses. Foreign dignitaries sometimes bring them, and most are willing to barter them for some other treasure.

A few exotic examples:

A bottle of rice-whiskey in which a single serpent is pickled until it has dissolved completely. The sting of venom accompanies the burn of the alcohol; it is of such potency, it will try to slither its way back up the drinker's throat.

The left hemisphere of a learned scholar's brain, dried and ground to a fine powder. Snorting it brings the satisfying sensation of stirring intellectual discourse, but leaves the tongue tasting faintly of ink.

The viscous milk lactated from an ancient Dragon's manifold teats. Those courtier favored enough to be granted a taste claim it resembles nothing so much as the warm, loving embrace of a matronly hermaphrodite. Whatever that means.

[ooc]To come: more fantastic wines, liquors, and narcotics.[/ooc]



In the Manticore Gardens, sporting events fulfill one of three purposes:

When the participants are Nobles, it is to enjoy the thrill of athletic competition and to showcase their skill and physical prowess.

When the participants are Knights, it is for the spectacle of watching opponents of equal ability battle one another in a heated contest.

When the participants are thralls, it is to watch someone die.

Courtiers enjoy a countless variety of sports and games, for which the Garden hosts an equally-countless variety of courts and arenas. Some deliberately eschew violence, more welcome full physical contact between participants...and many of the most popular are centered entirely around it!

Hand-to-hand combat is perhaps one of the most popular spectacles in the Manticore Gardens. The sight of two fighters, most often nude or only barely-clad, inflicting horrible punishment on each other blends together the two things courtiers enjoy most: sex and violence. Masters of dozens of styles, from the pragmatic to the exotic, dwell within the Gardens, and rare is the bout that only showcases one of them. Nobles and Knights can spend decades honing their bodies into brutally-effective weapons that they turn on their peers with pugilistic glee. Thralls often bear even more extreme enhancements: multiple limbs, wicked talons, horny carapaces. Even those who aren't warped into more effective (and more entertaining) fighters typically step into the arena wearing weighted, spiked, even bladed caestus.

Popular for much the same reason is the sport of armed dueling. While the archetypal weapon for such is of course the sword, which can take any form from the slender rapier to the two-handed claymore, it is far from the only weapon used, or even the most popular. Pike-fencing is considered one of the ultimate tests of a duelist, requiring incredible finesse to maneuver the five-meter spear, an angle of a few degrees all that separates a fatal strike from a fatal opening. Other popular weapons include shorter polearms, axes, and flails.

Surprisingly enough, ulama does no revolve around combat. Instead, opposing teams compete to keep a heavy rubber ball in play within a long court, touching it only with their heavily padded hips, knees, and elbows. While hip-checks and headbutts are far from rare, there is surprisingly little bloodshed: much of the appeal comes from players' incredible athleticism and the spectacle of them keeping the ball airborne with as little contact as possible.

Though it is not something they participate in directly, many courtier love bloodsports. There is something primally, viscerally satisfying about watching savage creatures tear into each other (or a few unlucky thralls). Some engineer their own unnatural beasts in the Uranus Loom, while others go to great lengths to acquire exotic monsters from outside the Gardens.

Among other things, courtiers also engage in football (both full-contact and not), rugby, tennis, field and ice hockey, racing (on foot, on mounts, and in chariots), many forms of stickball, jousting, polo, and gymnastics.



Few things command as much attention from courtiers as the art of fashion.

In the Manticore Gardens, style is everything. It goes a long way in determining one's place in the informal social hierarchy Nobles arrange themselves in, so all but the most extreme of introverts gives at least a cursory though to how they present themselves. Style is everything, but it is also many different things: it's how one speaks, how one moves, how one eats, how one fights, how one fucks, even how one smells.

But most importantly, it is how one looks.

There are two layers to a courtier's appearance. The first, their physical vessel. Though mutable, something they may shape and reshape as they like, it is seen as being a concrete expression of their "true self". Over that goes the second layer, their wardrobe, something far more fickle and inconstant in meaning.

Courtiers invest an incredible amount of emphasis and symbolism in their garments. Clothes are not just clothes; they are talismans, banners, declarations both subtle and loud. Even something as simple as a ribbon, a pin, or the angle of a hat may possess some meaning. A carefully crafted outfit can create a powerful emotional impression, representing those felt by the Noble or eliciting them in onlookers.

Clothing is not divided along gendered lines. Men, women, hermaphrodites, and androgynes all dress in whatever manner suits their individual tastes, and while certain cuts and styles may flatter certain body types more than others, many courtiers enjoy the irony of deliberate subversion.

[ooc]More to come.[/ooc]

Your descriptions remind me of the PS2 Prince of Persia games, which I always thought were pretty cool because the environments were entertaining to explore and look at. This sounds similar in that regard with the Eastern influences. I look forward to reading more. :)

Where specifically are you getting the whole "Eastern influences" bit? I have to admit, I'm a little sketchy on what that specifically entails.

Though this isn't me attacking your input or anything. I'm just a little confused.

I really like what you have so far, I think it is a good solid foundation to expand on. I get the whole "pre-history age of myth and heroes" vibe from the whole thing. Why do they call them the Manticore Gardens?

Quote from: Superbright
Where specifically are you getting the whole "Eastern influences" bit? I have to admit, I'm a little sketchy on what that specifically entails.

Though this isn't me attacking your input or anything. I'm just a little confused.

My understanding of Eastern influence is anything decidedly non-Western. This includes a large portion eastern European cultures, Africa, the Middle East, and India. A few snippets from your post that emphasize Eastern influence (for me anyway):

"architecture is a synergy of Byzantine, Islamic, and Indian styles...arches and open ceilings. Everything is colorful etc. Naming conventions including the Babylons viziers..golems are from jewish mythology...alchemy and summoning are from middle-eastern cultures, also the hierarchy class system, and the concept of "pleasure palaces"  makes me think of nothing but Arabian Nights type stories.

Quote from: SarisaMy understanding of Eastern influence is anything decidedly non-Western. This includes a large portion eastern European cultures, Africa, the Middle East, and India. A few snippets from your post that emphasize Eastern influence (for me anyway):

"architecture is a synergy of Byzantine, Islamic, and Indian styles...arches and open ceilings. Everything is colorful etc. Naming conventions including the Babylons viziers..golems are from jewish mythology...alchemy and summoning are from middle-eastern cultures, also the hierarchy class system, and the concept of "pleasure palaces"  makes me think of nothing but Arabian Nights type stories.

Ah, I see your point. I actually have ideas for the setting that I haven't shared yet, such as two of the foreign nations being the Tengu and the Rakshasa, and the like. So other than the obvious shout-outs to Oriental architecture, I didn't see the rest of it as being intentionally "Eastern".

So I've added more about sports and generally gone and fleshed-out a lot of the other sections. While I'm still very, very far from being anywhere close to done, I was wondering if there was anything others would like to see out of this or anything they think I should do differently.

I like the way sports are divided between social classes. How much of the drug intake is "normal" and how much is exotic? I'm guessing that nobility has better access to more exotic drugs, but I am curious to see what portion of them are more mundane like those of the real world and what portion is supernatural.

Well, I put a couple samples up. Coming up with exotic drugs and alcohols is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought, but hopefully that should give you a slightly-better picture of what I mean.

I want to snort your brains!

[ooc]I'm currently leaning towards a diceless system along the lines of the FLOW system used in the Stalker roleplaying game I've recently fallen in love with. In a nutshell, when resolving any challenge, players are given two scores, 1-5. The first is the merit of their idea, how likely it is to succeed. The second is how in keeping the idea is with their character and how well it's roleplayed. Possessing a relevant Aspect adds a one-point bonus to both scores. The two scores are multiplied together and if they exceed the target score, the character succeeds at the test. If not, they fail. While the players may have an inkling of how easy or difficult a challenge may be, the actual target number is a secret. This would only provide whether or not the characters succeeded: the gory details would be left up to player fiat.

Characters begin with ten Aspects that define their character's abilities and experiences. Every Aspect comes with A Drawback, some way in which it has negatively affected the Noble.

Players are encouraged to describe their characters in as much detail as possible. I'm talking pornographic levels of detail. The color of their eyes, the shades and textures of their skin and hair, the shape of their teeth, the sound of their voice, the way they speak and carry themselves, the garments the clothe themselves in, the jewelry they sport...all of these are things that influence how other courtiers view and interact with them. Not sure whether this will be mechanical or left up to Storyteller fiat. Plus, it adds flavor.

I'm planning on somehow keeping score of each character's relationship with important NPCs, which will affect their overall status in the Gardens. This'll probably come in the form of "strings" or tokens that characters can burn for dramatic effect, representing the strain put on relationships as they call in favors or exploit intimate secrets. Again, not sure if there'll be a mechanical system to award strings or if I'll leave it up to Storyteller fiat.

Death is not something players will be regularly threatened with. Killing a Noble is a dramatic, involved undertaking, one that will only come about as a result of player actions, never suddenly or by chance. That said, NPC relations are far more fragile...

A more common threat is the loss of status, which is a big deal in the court intrigue of the Manticore Gardens. The hope is that even if their characters are not actively threatened with destruction, the players will still be motivated by the threat of social death or the deaths of their characters' friends and relations.
Still not sure how, in a system like this, I'd deal with magic and high technology.

I'm not the best at homebrewing/modifying mechanics, so this is all very rough and nowhere near set in stone. Are there any questions, comments, and/or suggestions for members with more experience when it comes to the nuts-and-bolts of systems?
[/ooc]

So, I'm stuck in a rut.

I've tried to move on to other projects, but I can never seem to pick up any traction and I keep sliding back to add more to the patchwork monstrosity that is the Manticore Gardens. Currently, I have at least half a dozen partially-finished Word documents detailing magical traditions, technology, foreigners, the Sovereign Babylon and Dragons, the world's cosmology, the physical shape of the Gardens, etc.

So my question is, does anyone want to see me do more with this setting? If so, what do you think I should do? What would you like to see from it? A better description of what the Manticore Gardens actually looks like? A piece of descriptive fiction? Some sample characters? Something completely different?

Thank you in advance. I really hope to here from some of you and hopefully make some real progress towards this being a setting I could easily run a game in.

[I hope I don't sound like I'm asking you all to do my creative thinking for me. I work best with a little bit of prodding. Also, a lot of the members here seem to think a lot in line with my usual group of players, so you're a good sort of litmus test.]

I love this setting. Keep going! Make maps, design small adventures, detail the outside world, write up some important NPCs, write detailed treasure lists, describe specific rooms, write down ten important things that happened in the last 1000 years.

I find if I get stuck on something, and can't seem to budge, the best thing to do is just write. Good luck!

She does not seem like much: a girl not yet come of age, with limbs like burnt twigs and eyes too large for a face always half-veiled by golden hair.

But She does not really fit into such a delicate vessel. It is inescapable, the aura of menace that surrounds Her. The sense that something more, something enormous, lurks just beyond perception, pushing against the thin, fragile façade. Something dark and hungry and indescribably monstrous.

She moves and acts without discernible rhyme or reason. She holds court with empresses and hierophants, bodhisattvas and devils. She reclines in salons and debates aesthetics, metaphysics, which of Her courtiers is the prettier than the rest. She feasts on the flesh of jeweled pears and slender thralls. She takes an intimate interest in the every affair of a single soul. She joins a courtier in their chambers for one unspeakable night. She executes those who would undermine, every death personal, loving. She sows seeds of discord and strife to someday bear bitter fruit. She reveals the patient wisdom of an ancient scholar in one instant and the hateful capriciousness of an unruly child the next. She looms over the head of each and every inhabitant of the Gardens like the sword of Damocles.


If a thing such as the Sovereign Babylon possesses the desire or even the capacity for true friendship, then it is Her Dragons that fill that niche. They the closest thing She has to peers in the Manticore Gardens, and though they number only a few dozen in all, every of them is an ancient monster in their own right. Unbound by the limitations of the Anthropomorphic Dictate, the bodies of the Dragons are often shocking in their enthusiastic rejection of anything resembling the human form. Their minds pickled and fermented over uncountable centuries, their thoughts a vintage unpalatable to younger sensibilities, their agendas so opaque as to make them nigh-impenetrable to lesser logic. They often seek to embroil Nobles in their convoluted webs, with fantastic treasure and esoteric secrets the reward for an oath of vassalage and a series of what are often seemingly-random errands.

It would be wise to remember, however, that such boons always come at the end of invisible strings and the Dragons are the only other beings besides the Sovereign Babylon Herself with the power to casually snuff out the existence of a Noble. They may restrain themselves, but the threat is sufficient to give pause to most Nobles who would consider crossing one.


If the existence of the Nobles is characterized by unbridled hedonism and self-expression, then the existence of the Knights is one of privileged, rewarding service. While their position is ultimately subordinate to that of the Nobles, they still occupy an unimaginably higher stratum than the hopeless, nihilist masses of Thralls. Their Essences grant them an eternal, ageless life that is preternaturally difficult to extinguish, though perhaps not quite as hardy as that of the Nobles they serve. While many led prior lives as humans, perhaps even as Thralls who managed to distinguish themselves through some extraordinary feat, a sizable portion of Knights were uplifted from animals, plants, inanimate minerals, or even soulless bodies woven from whole-cloth. While they only hazily-remember their previous existences, they often continue to inform their characters and personalities in small, subtle ways.

While they are entitled to their own identities, Knights are typically defined by a handful of tasks at which they excel and little more. They are valets, body-servants, scriveners, bodyguards, shield-bearers, sommeliers, courtesans. They spend centuries perfecting their chosen professions, honing their skills to levels that even Nobles would struggle to match: a swordswoman who can slice the wings from a moth mid-flight, a pipe-steward who knows their mistress' every narcotic preference, a spy able to move unheard across even the noisiest of nightingale floors. Beyond mere cosmetic alterations, many Knights refine their physical forms with the Uranus Loom to further enhance their inherent abilities, so a bodyguard might sport layers of chitinous plates beneath her skin or needle-like stingers beneath her fingernails.

It should be little surprise that the relationships Knights and their Nobles are often exceedingly close. Many transcend the platonic, and it is not uncommon for masters to wed their servants, though there is an inevitable inequality in such unions. These connections make Knights prime targets of rivals seeking to strike a blow against the Nobles they serve: while a Thrall, no matter how useful, is a tool that can be easily replaced, a Knight is more: a friend, a sibling, a lover. It is a sad dimension of their existence that Knights are often cut down as mere plays in the machinations of their betters, something that most try to accept with a quiet dignity and the hope that should they die, they will at least be avenged. Some of the most epic romantic ballads in the Gardens are about Nobles who found their most beloved companion butchered and the fiery storm they bring down upon those responsible.


With a position in the grand scheme somewhere between Knights and thralls, Würme are an uncommon sight in the Gardens, of the same order or rarity as golems; whether this is because their numbers are as few or because they eschew social contact is a matter of contention. The Würme are the creations of Dragons, grown from the matter of their bodies to act as servitors in much the same way as Knights. They are not so strictly contained by the Anthropomorphic Dictate, so it is not strange to see a Wurm with multiple or bifurcated limbs, too many heads, or a profoundly-inhuman visage. They also do not think in strictly lateral, three-dimensional ways like other courtiers, which make them unsettling conversants at best but highly-efficient servants to creatures similarly unbound by conventional logic. For their part, the Dragons seem to adore and coddle them like their own spawn, but then show little remorse in treating them like expendable pawns. It is likely the only reason they do not eclipse Knights is that the Dragons appreciate outside perspectives, no matter now limited they might be; not to mention, the presence of more than one Wurm can easily kill a party.



The writhing, shrieking, stinking masses, the flesh and firewood that fuels the Manticore Gardens, thralls live an existence that is as wretched and hopeless as the courtiers' is decadent. Though human in form, they are denied any privilege of identity, considered kine at best and animate furniture most often. Actually, to say that they're furniture would be the best way to characterize how the courtiers view them: you sit on them, they hold your drinks and scrolls, pretty ones subtly enhance the room, and if you get too cold, you can hack them up and toss them in the fire. Thralls die in uncounted scores every day, but there are always more, bred in the sunless bowels of the Gardens or purchased from flesh-traders in great bronze cages.

Thralls perform the numberless tasks too foul for Knights to stoop to and too mundane to waste the service of a golem on. They are cupbearers, waiters, sous-chefs, bed-warmers. They pick the fruit and raise the cattle that will end up on the feast-tables of the Nobles. They dredge and smelt the ores and salts from veins buried deep below the tower-palace. They are thrown to Loom-spun beasts with only daggers in their hands. They are vivisected in casual experiments. They are slaughtered and served the same as any fattened pig.

For some, there is the siren song of exaltation to the Knighthood, perhaps even the Golden Essences of the Nobles, but for every thrall blessed or talented enough to grasp such an elusive prize, countless more are ground to nothing by the nihilistic Gardens of the reality. And indeed, the courtiers are well aware that their grotesque lifestyle is bought with blood and flesh. They usually just don't care.

While technically not considered true 'courtiers', there exist a number of artifice-crafted entities whose presence and utility are so ubiquitous that they are nevertheless considered an indispensable part of the Manticore Garden's social clockwork.

Exquisitely rare, golems are artificial automata crafted of any number of nonliving materials: polished basalt or jade, lacquered wood, gleaming brass, riveted steel, filigreed silver and smoky glass. Anthropomorphic in design, their features are typically striking, realist almost to the point of being exaggerated. The creation of a golem is a process beyond laborious, requiring a flawless vessel, many exotic minerals and reagents from which to construct a consciousness, a perfectly-sterile birthplace, and countless hours of work by a master craftwright and sorcerer, the level of expertise necessary more commonly found among the Dragons than Nobles. The difficulty of the undertaking dissuades most, but for those willing to devote the time and possess just the right degree of luck, the product is one that cannot be easily replicated by either Knights or thralls.

Firstly, let it be said that golems are implacable. Their motivating principle not bound to any single organ, they are next to impossible to slay or even mar in any significant fashion. Possessed of the willpower and single-mindedness of a revenant, not to mention the patience of a stone, they will undertake any task they are assigned literally for the rest of eternity, until such time as their body degrades to the point of uselessness (though they'll still think about completing it) or they are ordered to do otherwise. The task can be as simple as making sure a stone floor stays clean, or as broad as ensuring no harm of any sort comes to any of the guests at a party. While this makes them incredibly useful servitors, the downside is that golems are incredibly boring. They have no real creativity, no wit or passion beyond their current purpose; they are little more than human-shaped machines, and machines are no fun to talk to. It is for this reason that they are more commonly employed by Dragons than Nobles: not simply because the ancient monsters find it easier to craft them, but they are less put-off by the gap in understanding.


The moniker 'gargoyle' refers to the uncountable diversity of Loom-spun creatures that prowl the halls and chambers of the Gardens. As the Uranus Loom can bring animation to more than simply animal or plant-like matter, they are typically as 'organic' in the traditional sense as Nobles or Knights are themselves. As a rule, gargoyles may not appear or act as human: even those with two pairs of limbs that walk upright always possess some distinctive, unmistakable deformity, and they are typically of much more limited intellect and creativity, well on the other side of the boundary that separates bestial instinct from rational thought.

It is virtually impossible to make any broader categorizations, for gargoyles are every bit as varied as worldly flora and fauna; perhaps even moreso, as their forms were conceived by the unhindered imagination of the Nobles and not some evolutionary mechanism. Some are made to be pets and companions, some to be guard-beasts and pit-monsters, others to produce some specific substance that cannot be easily replicated elsewhere, and some were crafted for no other reason than to serve as fascinating decoration.


Born of dizzyingly-complex quasi-mathematical formulae, tulpa are ephemeral spirit-servitors. For ease of interaction, they are typically designed with human-like silhouettes and voices, if only to mask the bizarre, inscrutable processes that animate the programs. If the sorcery-codes are inscribed on a pearl that is then placed inside a courtier's head, the tulpa will follow them as a constant familiar they can selectively tune in or out: they can be allowed to wander elsewhere, and then recalled instantly with a thought. If the runes are inscribed on nonliving matter, such as a mirror frame or a marble obelisk, then the tulpa will possess that object instead. Whole choirs of tulpa are sometimes bound together inside such 'cogitators'. The thought-forms are typically created to perform, at most, a handful of purposes that they focus on to the exclusion of all others, the exact extent of their utility dependent on the characters and complexity of the code that birthed them. The most common uses are as viziers, scribes, pensieves, messengers, or virtual-courtesans. Existing as bodiless spirits, they are impossible to harm through conventional means, but certain tulpa are created with the express purpose of devouring other tulpa. It is also possible to ward a threshold against intrusion by a tulpa, but such boundaries always possess their cracks.

Yesterday I had a pleasant conversation with Superbright for quite a while on IRC about various things, but especially the Manticore Gardens. The main points of that discussion, summarized, are:

I did and do still like this setting a lot. It has quite a bit of certain evocative imagery, and I like the "Hey! We don't follow early 21st century American social conventions because there's no reason we'd really have to!" feel to it.

That said, I still say the Sovereign Babylon, and, to a lesser extent, the Dragons, seem kind of "Mary Sue"ish. They're probably not intended that way, but there's this ugly Forgotten Realms quality of "look at these more-awesome-than-you'll-ever-be" people. At least, they have that potential-- maybe in the hands of a good GM they won't be and in the hands of a bad GM there's no hope anyway, but writing this stuff into the setting feels like trouble that doesn't need to be invited. Were I to GM a game set here, I personally wouldn't be sure what to do with the powers that be; I wouldn't want to use them as an arbitrarily railroading device, but the real feeling seems to be that they're not there for the players to beat at all-- and on some level I feel like everything in a setting should be "beatable."

Just my two cents. :D

Sovereign Babylon sounds a lot like the Empress in Exalted sparkletwist, except this Empress looks younger than the Empress even... I don't think there's too much to worry here :D unless you also think the Empress is too mary-sueish. It also seems to fit the eastern-style setting- a mythic totalitarian figure of unity existing in the world (as opposed to western-style where the mythic figures [even the greek ones] didn't directly rule (only their demigod children did :p)...I know it's more complicated than that, but I am painting with broad strokes here)

Except, in Exalted, the Empress isn't there any more. One of the main recent events of the canonical backstory is her abrupt disappearance. So, she's not a problem because she's not there. As brought up in my discussion with Superbright previously, Sovereign Babylon seems more like the Lady of Pain to me, and I'm not a big fan of the Lady of Pain either.

Lady of Pain from Planescape... she's as good as not there in the first half of the video game? I don't see how there's much of a problem there to have an all powerful leader somewhere in the campaign so that at the very least the players don't get it into their minds that it's a good idea to burn down every town?

re: Exalted- well, if you get the final book in the series "Return of the Scarlet Empress", she 'is' there :D. But to be fair, in the vanilla game you are correct, she is not there.

Quote from: Light DragonI don't see how there's much of a problem there to have an all powerful leader somewhere in the campaign so that at the very least the players don't get it into their minds that it's a good idea to burn down every town?

Like I said, I like everything in a campaign to be "beatable." I don't like for there to be any "all powerful" anything at all, because that means nothing that the players do can ever oppose them, if that's what they should decide to do.

While it's true a bad GM will always find ways to have rocks fall and make everyone die, considering the GM can do whatever, making there be actual characters that can do this in the setting means that the GM may be tempted to involve those actual characters in plots and such-- and then the players are getting plot points handed to them by all powerful characters they can't ever oppose. All aboard the railroad.

I'm not sure that I can agree with you, Sparkle. Does the presence of an entity several orders of magnitude more physically powerful than the players preclude player opposition? There are plenty of other options aside from violent confrontation. Do you feel that a being of immense political power is similarly rendered unopposed by the player characters? - for example, an autocrat who controls all the organs of state, has an iron-clad grasp on its military and its means of production, has all the right commercial and political connections, and could conceivably put so many walls between the players and itself that it is nigh unassailable.

I've actually been trying to think of a way to dial back the Sovereign Babylon's implied omnipotence without sacrificing the weirdness-factor that comes with having a preteen Lovecraftian god-monster up and walking about the joint.

So, what I propose is: Babylon is dying. Whatever ancient, unspeakable, malignant horror it is that wears the face of a young woman, it's dying. She shouldn't be able to die, but She's dying all the same. She's been dying for an eternity. Wherever She walks within the Gardens, She trails a tangled bundle of wires and pipes and tubing, seemingly far too heavy for Her slender knees to bear, pumping Her body with strange formula and preservatives to keep Her from imploding in upon Herself. She sips constantly on foul-scented alchemical brews, swallows all manner of bizarre pill, bathes in bubbling unguents, all to indefinitely-delay Her own heat-death. Some say that's why She built the Gardens, if it was truly Her who built them: something about the particular geometries inhibiting the flow of normal time. Make no mistake, She is still a terrible god-monster, just a crippled one. One now consigned to rule by the weight Her name carries rather than by shows of awful force, for She is loath to exert herself nowadays and risk damaging the arcane machinery that sustains Her. She is feared, but also, perhaps, pitied.

Just a thought. What do you lot think?

Quote from: TheMeanestGuestDoes the presence of an entity several orders of magnitude more physically powerful than the players preclude player opposition? There are plenty of other options aside from violent confrontation. Do you feel that a being of immense political power is similarly rendered unopposed by the player characters?

Merely several orders of magnitude is one thing; the words used were "all powerful." To continue the Planescape example, the Lady of Pain (if I remember correctly) doesn't even have stats, because she's intended as a plot device/DM railroading stick and is not really intended to be confronted or overcome in any normal game mechanics driven way whatsoever. "In any way whatsoever" is also a key point, because I understand and agree that there are multiple ways to have a confrontation and I never meant to imply otherwise. I never said that there had to be a violent confrontation. I said "beaten," and I put it in quotes, specifically to imply that the only point was to "win the game." How the players do that is up to them. Canonically, there is no way at all to "beat"-- physically, politically, or whatever-ly-- the Lady of Pain, and that's the part I dislike.

Quote from: SuperbrightSo, what I propose is: Babylon is dying. Whatever ancient, unspeakable, malignant horror it is that wears the face of a young woman, it's dying.

Hmm. Now it's kind of got an Warhammer 40K Emperor of Man feel on top of it. The whole thing about the nigh-omnipotent leader actually being imprisoned and decaying and such. Since she's still there, I'm not quite sure what it changes, to be honest. I guess this adds new plot hooks centered around her (an adventure to save her?) but I'm on the fence as to whether I think that is a good or bad thing-- I am personally of the mentality that settings should not really revolve around a single (or group of) powerful NPCs, because it seems like it could lead too easily to "you don't matter" syndrome, like in Forgotten Realms and pretty much every White Wolf published adventure, but of course it's ultimately a question of how much you want the setting to revolve around her.

>>< Some say that's why She built the Gardens, if it was truly Her who built them: something about the particular geometries inhibiting the flow of normal time. Make no mistake, She is still a terrible god-monster, just a crippled one. One now consigned to rule by the weight Her name carries rather than by shows of awful force, for She is loath to exert herself nowadays and risk damaging the arcane machinery that sustains Her. She is feared, but also, perhaps, pitied.

That definitely increases the interest factor and the number of plot points that could go around her. :) And heck, I think it addresses sparkletwist's comment that "she cannot be defeated." Good development.

Keep in mind re: sparkletwists' critiques- Forgotten Realms, White Wolf, etc. are all highly successful commercially. On the other hand, settings that lack extremely powerful characters and rulers are: Eberron and Golarion. However, even though those settings lack an Elminster, I recall playing in many many games in each where we are given quests by people more powerful than the party and that are essentially railroads. And in Golarion a deity== almost impossible to defeat. So many players likely don't mind having a powerful NPC as a potential quest giver. It's more of an issue that the NPC has a reason for not getting involved and bailing out the characters when they're in trouble as a deus ex machina. In the end, the development is all about what sort of feel you want for your setting.

The Sovereign Babylon is meant to have a fairly central role in the mythology and social hierarchy of the Manticore Gardens, but I'm trying to limit Her somewhat to where She's not going to casually unmake characters simply for displeasing her. In fact, it's my intent that it would be entirely possible to avoid dealing with Her altogether; while having the Sovereign praise a Noble's name in front of the court is an excellent way for them to gain status, keeping one's affairs as far removed from Her as possible isn't going to penalize them either.

But, while I try and sort out what to do with Her, here's a sample of some of the foreign cultures I can see visiting the Gardens:

The Colossiwallah travel the Unknown World on the backs of their Nephilim: titanic stone beings of unquantifiable age, their features a mix of the human and the atavistic, bent and twisted beneath the weight of massive, pitted iron chains. As they walk, the giants sing to one another, like groaning, screeching whales, and the wallahs claim to be able to discern the meaning of their mounts' vocalizations. The Colossiwallah are traders, merchants, and gypsies, their teetering howdahs decorated with a schizophrenic riot of wares from cultures unheard of.

Unlike most of those who make pilgrimage to the Gardens, the rakshasa do not come to indulge themselves in the countless pleasures and vices found therein, for there is only one indulgence the stoic warrior-demons will allow themselves to indulge in: the cleaving of flesh. The smallest among them still stands nearly twenty hands high, formed of nothing but iron-hard bone and corded muscle, with skin that is either black as coal or red as blood, hands that end in long, curving talons, and tongues that drip a potent acid. When they appear in the Manticore Gardens, it is almost invariably to challenge the most martially-skilled of courtiers to public duels typically, as they term it, "to the pain." While a single rakshasa can slaughter dozens, if not scores, of thrall gladiators (and sometimes do, if only for the spectacle), such a massacre gives them little pleasure. Most would prefer to bloody their flawless weapons in single combat against a Knight or preferably a Noble. Because such opponents are difficult, if not impossible, to kill, the warrior-demons aim to inflict the most gruesome, painful, and visually-spectacular wounds possible, mutilating their opponents with savage glee: hence, "to the pain". Those who defeat a rakshasa in combat are entitled to his or her weapons, which are universally-flawless in craftsmanship, as well as the renown that comes with having bested one of a race who literally live for combat.

The ambassadors of the Painted Kingdoms are something of a novelty. They do not veil their bodies in any sort of textile, instead decorating their skin with layer upon layer of vivid, ornamental paint and cosmetics. They grow their hair long, twisting it into thick braids and dreadlocks which they dye with kohl, henna, and indigo. Many of the plants and minerals from which they grind their paints possess narcotic or hallucinogenic properties, so the moods of the Painted People are strange and unpredictable even by the standards of the Manticore Gardens. When they come, they come bearing great casks of their dyes and inks, which they are only too happy to paint across the bodies of curious courtiers.

I love love love the vagueness and poetry of this setting. It's very dreamlike, very bizarre, and I think the lack of overt detail plays strongly to a strange, fanciful setting such as this.

What is the cosmology, or the very least least how does the sky look and in turn is interpreted, within the Manticore Gardens? What are the thoughts on religion, philosophy, and whatever "after-lives" and other worldly places may exist? I think you could do some really cool heavy philosophical things with this setting : aesthetics, epistemology, metaphysics, thaumaturge, free will, theology, etc. 

First off, I'm glad you dig the setting! I'm a little worried it might be too vague, but it's good to know that someone finds a certain poetry in it.

Quote from: Señor LeetzWhat is the cosmology, or the very least least how does the sky look and in turn is interpreted, within the Manticore Gardens?

The sky above the Gardens is the intense, awful blue of lapis lazuli, its terrifying vastness rarely marred by clouds; it is a common superstition among the courtiers that those to wander in the flat, bleached-bone wastes invite the infinite heavens to swallow them up. At night, it is full of stars, and the colorful, graven moons that number anywhere from three to seven, and few of these heavenly bodies seem content to maintain a fixed position. There is a great orrery and telescopic array in one of the uppermost levels of the Gardens, though most Nobles and Knights find its complexity worse than baffling.

Everything that cannot be seen from the parapets of the Manticore Gardens is considered the Unknown World, of which no sensible depictions exist. It is charted on shifting maps and globes that resemble puzzle-boxes, which can be rotated and realigned to form multiple,  paradoxical cartographies, each seemingly as valid as the rest.

There are Lands Outside Creation, though as they exist wholly beyond sensible experience, describing them is impossible. Through the magical art of High Summoning, it is possible to touch minds and draw creatures from Beyond into this world.

Beyond that, I'm somewhat stumped in what I want to do. I'm probably going to pinch a little from Exegesis' Apocodritch Lords and have the world exist between a chthonic underworld and a cold, searing overworld. A concept that I'm bandying about but aren't married to is that the Sun, Moons, and the more lordly of Stars hold their own personified courts and sometimes literally visit the Gardens themselves (a la Sandman).

Quote from: Señor LeetzWhat are the thoughts on religion, philosophy, and whatever "after-lives" and other worldly places may exist?

There are Gods in the world. Either because I'm too lazy to come up with a distinct pantheon or I just have a fetishistic obsession with tarot (probably a little of both), the twenty-two Gods of the Invisible Clergy embody the archetypes of the Greater Arcana: The Fool, The Magician, The High Priestess, The Empress, The Emperor, The Hierophant, The Lovers, The Chariot, Justice, The Hermit, The Wheel of Fortune, Strength, The Hanged Man, Death, Temperance, The Devil, The Tower, The Star, The Moon, The Sun, Judgement, and The World. However, each of them possesses multiple, often contradictory emanations and aspects, which are fully capable of existing in the same location and even interacting with one another. When they arrive in the Gardens, they often do so with their own servitors, spirits, and mortal acolytes in tow.

There are also Lovecraftian, Babylon-esque god-monsters that dwell in the blackness between stars, and they also sometimes deign to send emissaries and avatars to pay homage and experience the pleasures of the Gardens.

Of course, despite the literal Gods and comparable entities walking around, most courtiers are profoundly areligious, concerned with the sensible matters of the Manticore Gardens. Those that do align themselves with any deity typically do so only in exchange for tangible, immediate benefits, never for the promise of rewards in an afterlife that they (as immortals) are hopefully never going to reach.

To put it in a nutshell, courtiers are often contemptuous of the Unknown World and any worlds beyond. While they will entertain those who make the journey from their own lands and may find themselves fascinated with their strange foreign cultures, they are typically disinclined to risk the dangers of travel themselves when an eternity of hedonistic self-expression is already at their fingertips.

Vague, I know. These are some of the things I've been having difficulty putting down into words that match the rest of my style. Any responses/suggestions/further questions?

Added a section on the Knighthood, the Nobles' loyal servants and companions.

Added sections for golems, gargoyles, and tulpa. Let me know what you think.

And a few questions for the people who read this: is there anything more specific that you'd like to see? I'm working on the magic and technology (and the technourgy), but do you think there should be a codified social system among the Nobles, with specific titles and privileges? Or does the anarcho-hedonist system I've implied work fine? If I started a lexicon, would anyone have any terms to submit, since I doubt I could construct an entire system of slang entirely by myself.

Quote from: Superbright
Added sections for golems, gargoyles, and tulpa. Let me know what you think.

And a few questions for the people who read this: is there anything more specific that you'd like to see? I'm working on the magic and technology (and the technourgy), but do you think there should be a codified social system among the Nobles, with specific titles and privileges? Or does the anarcho-hedonist system I've implied work fine? If I started a lexicon, would anyone have any terms to submit, since I doubt I could construct an entire system of slang entirely by myself.

I will try and take a look at everything more closely later, but regarding the lexicon you might consider moving it onto the wiki; you might find it easier to organize such a list (or even the whole setting) there once it gets large enough.

Rather than rigid titles and ranks, you could go for descriptive honorifics bestowed ad hoc by the Sovereign Babylon as the whim strikes her. Eg. someone might be named as the 'Master of Libations' or the 'Evanescent Harpist' or something. The moniker could stick for a given amount of time, or it could be permanent until bestowed on someone else.

Quote from: Ghostman
Rather than rigid titles and ranks, you could go for descriptive honorifics bestowed ad hoc by the Sovereign Babylon as the whim strikes her. Eg. someone might be named as the 'Master of Libations' or the 'Evanescent Harpist' or something. The moniker could stick for a given amount of time, or it could be permanent until bestowed on someone else.

Like the concept, probably wouldn't be Babylon Herself who does it, since even that's a little too official of involvement. I'm more imagining a long roll of titles and positions that'd be determined more or less by popular decision: if there's any real debate over who the bearer is, that's something can be settled by a vote or one sort or another.

In regards to your questions, I really enjoy your anarcho-hedonist motif.  As you're painting Babylon herself as a Lovecraftian entity, I feel it should be recognized that one of the strongest elements of Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos was the fact that the mythology was impossible to pin down, the structure impossible to put clearly in perspective.  This also will allow you to develop specific spheres of the Gardens without having to maintain a coherent view of the entire system.

Also, a bit of a fan of Ghostman's suggestion of fantastically arbitrary yet specific titles as opposed to a structured system.  My image of the Gardens is the court as a solar system, filled with bizarre planets orbiting erratically an abhorrent dying sun.

Hope that helped!

It's not a whole lot, but here's a few slang terms that're likely to pepper courtiers' speech. If anyone has any suggestions for the list, I'd love to hear them.

Abolitionist: a courtier, usually a Knight or Noble, who disagrees with the use of thralls. Viewed in much the same way as someone who says plants feel pain would be today.

Asura: a disagreeable or unpleasant courtier, typically one who is loud, aggressive, gluttonous, and/or malicious.

Bodhisattva: an unfailingly kind, compassionate, and/or generous individual. Used the same way as 'saint', e.g., 'the patience of a bodhisattva.'

Cannibal: a person who pursues relations exclusively with individuals of the same identity or appearance as themselves. Similar to 'homosexual', but much more broadly applied.

Cherub: a courtier with a child-like form, especially when it contrasts with an aged or jaded personality.

Daeva: see ASURA.

Flesh: a thrall. Not so much derogatory term as matter-of-fact.

Incubus: a lady-killer, an incredibly attractive or sexually-aggressive masculine courtier. Can have either positive or negative connotations. See SUCCUBUS.

Lamprey: used in the same manner as loudmouth and/or cocksucker, often implies the speaker finds them unattractive as well.

Pygmalion: a courtier with a sexual preference/fetish for golems or other automata; if they are the courtier's own creations, the term has vaguely-incestuous implications as well.

Shoggoth: someone with incredible anti-charisma capable of smothering an entire party all at once, the kind of person party-planners feverishly insist will never actually turn up. Something along the lines of 'a bull in a china shop'.

Spawn: a courtier's biological offspring. Used much more commonly than 'baby' or 'child'.

Spider: someone who weaves elaborate social plots, a schemer, a conspirer. Typically used derisively, or much more rarely as an expression of admiration.

Stargazer: a courtier who spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about subjects beyond the bounds of the Gardens, typically to the exclusion of more worldly pursuits.

Succubus: a man-eater, an incredibly attractive or sexually-aggressive feminine courtier. Can have either positive or negative connotations. See INCUBUS.

Quote from: SuperbrightAsura: a disagreeable or unpleasant courtier, typically one who is loud, aggressive, gluttonous, and/or malicious.

Hey!  :owned: :grin:

No, seriously, I like this list. It adds quite a bit of flavor. :)

Not so much shameless self=promotion as general interest-gauging, I haven't added anything new to this thread in far too long and I was wondering if there was anything anyone wanted to see added/explained/fleshed-out. I mean, I'll put up something new regardless, but I wanted to answer amy questions you true believers might have before I leave you with any new ones.

In the Manticore Gardens, the border between what is science and what is sorcery is often hazy and indistinct. While the Great Arts are clearly beholden to no natural laws, even the already-tenuous sort that govern the surrounding lands, the myriad of petty devices and artifacts the average Courtier encounters every day operate according to much subtler principles. Most commonly called telesma, their countless variety of appearances are governed as much by the aesthetics of the courtier in question as by their actual function.

Especially popular is telesma that take the form of jewellery: rings, bands, torcs, brooches, periapts, etc. They are almost invariably constructed from precious stones or metals, often feature intricate engravings or inscriptions, and may even contain minute mechanisms; all of these factors frequently play a part in the telesm's function:

A bracelet that chimes on the hour, hums at dawn and dusk, and sings once every fortnight.

A scholar's signet ring that turns the pages of a book once the wearer has finished reading.

A pair of ear-cuffs that softly whisper the forgotten names of casual acquaintances.

A tongue-stud that grows hot at the touch of poison, warning the drinker before it can enter the throat.

However, not all telesma are worn...or even made from inanimate materials. Perhaps nearly as ubiquitous are those that take the form of small creatures or funguses, rarely any larger than what can be concealed in a pocket or sleeve. Because of their minute proportions and simple functions, their creation does not require a Uranus Loom. Instead, when not in use, their owners typically allow them to breed or multiply, providing their own replacements for when they should wither or break:

A finger-sized salamander that produces a tongue of multihued flame when its back is stroked.

A four-winged songbird able to carry spoken messages between courtiers, in the speaker's voice.

A fangwig, which delicately cleans remnants of food from a courtier's teeth (or otherwise) while they sleep and polishes them with a flavorful wax.

A tailless rodent that gnaws on a courtier's nails, trimming them to their desired length and shape.

A savage, many-mawed bundle of fangs and venom that gleefully tears at any unwanted digits, whether they're trying to infiltrate its owner's purse or somewhere else.

Some artifacts, however, are either too complex in operation or too essential to the life in the Gardens, or perhaps both, to be classed as telesma. In fact, they're generally not categorized at all, their names so ubiquitous enough that every courtier knows of them:

More than a mere enchantment, a Golden Essence is a piece of a Noble's soul taken and transfigured into a thing several orders more potent and robust. To anyone's knowledge, the Sovereign Babylon is the only creature in the Unknown World with the knowledge and skill to create them, though similar artifices may exist in foreign lands. Once adhered, it is a physical, inextricable part of the Noble's being, imbuing several marvelous qualities. They are ageless, never suffering the corruption of senescence or senility. Their physical forms are significantly more resistant to harm and much less susceptible to mundane poison or disease. Lastly, they recover from injury or exhaustion at a profoundly-increased rate. Knights are bestowed with similar blessings termed Argent Essences, which though lesser, still grant them refined attributes and extended virility. While it is impossible to separate a courtier's Essence from their body while they still live, after death, their body can be cremated and a handful of small, nacreous stones or pearls extracted from the ashes. Called sariras, these contain the courtier's consciousness and may be implanted in a new vessel.

Roughly the size of a marble and crafted from silicate minerals, tulpa pearls are engraved with the complicated quasi-mathematical formulae that birth the spirit-forms. When implanted inside the head of a courtier, the bind the tulpa to that individual like a familiar. The bearer of the pearl can see and hear the tulpa, the two of them communicating mentally without need for spoken words. Though the spirit-form can be dispatched to perform a task elsewhere, it takes only a though to immediately summon them back to their master. Purpures are a variation that house tulpa meant to serve as spiritual concubines: they are largely the same, though the spirit-form may be touched, tasted, and smelled as well as merely seen and heard.


[ooc]More to come, always open to suggestions.[/ooc]

In much the same way as they tailor the aesthetics of their physical vessels to suit their personal sensibilities, Nobles and their Knights have the privilege of selecting whatever name they find most fitting. Many choose an appellation shortly after receiving their Golden Essence and never see the need to alter it further, but there are others who assume different sobriquets with varying degrees of frequency and even an eccentric minority who refuse to adopt any designation for themselves. It is not unheard of for a courtier, especially one at risk of being made a pariah because of some faux pas, to assume an entirely different form and name, but such a practice is far less common than one might expect; in a community as close-knit and incestuous as the Manticore Gardens, having no reputation whatsoever invites the same degree of suspicious as having a poor one.

It is worth noting that even outside of the Garden's byzantine system of sexes, genders, and intersections thereof, names are not considered to be inherently gendered. While foreign retinues might turn their heads and snicker quietly at a male-bodies, masculine-identified courtier named Zareen, none of his peers would consider that particularly out of the ordinary.

By default, all Nobles possess the title of Lord or Lady, or both, but many choose to affect a different style. The majority bear some sort of noble or aristocratic connotations: Baron, Compte, Patrician, Visgraff, Bey, Amir, Shinshaku, Gong, Fidalgo, Navvab, Woizero, Zamindar, and so on. Others, including the particularly-spiritual or particularly-irreverent, prefer titles with religious implications, like Bishop, Vicar, Muezzin, Cardinal, Imam, Pandit, Rabbi, etc. Beyond what they say about a Noble's character, certain titles denote a higher social status than others, creating a loose sub-hierarchy among ostensible-equals. The only titles considered proscribed are those that imply supreme or imperial authority, such as Tsarina, Popess, Sultan, Samraat, and of course, Sovereign.

While there is comparatively-little stratification among Knights, they too sometimes adopt different titles to express subtle differentiations in their roles. For example, among three bodyguards, a janissary may have been raised to be such from spawning, a samurai might be personally-devoted to qir Noble, and a kshatriya probably defines herself entirely in terms of being a soldier.

In addition, it is common for courtiers, especially older or more colorful ones, to possess several descriptive cognomens. The Noble Radovan, for instance, is known as Devouring Radovan because of his obsessively, predatorily-gluttonous character, the Dagger-Toothed Cannibal due to both the shape of his fangs and the exclusivity of his preferences, and the Scourge of the Summer Season after several infamously-intense months of conflicts and conquests.


In the Manticore Gardens, there are a number of official titles that are bestowed upon the courtiers, almost invariably a Noble, who most embodies them. Called the Personas, some of these positions change with the season, the year, or according to a more esoteric schedule, while others are ordained for life or, more commonly, until they demonstrate their unworthiness to bear the title. While the trappings associated with each Persona are unique, they all share one common feature: a mask, distinctive enough so as to be unmistakable. Every bearer elaborates or personalizes their mask in some small way, so after countless centuries of changing hands, each is an awe-inspiringly complex piece of art. Note that wearing the mask over ones face is not a requirement: many wear them in any number of inventive ways.

Typically, it is self-evident which courtier should assume a given Persona, but there is sometimes conflict when multiple parties attempt to claim the title. Such matters are typically settled through a duel of some sort, though not necessarily with swords, the results of which will demonstrate the obvious superiority of the victorious candidate or at the very least, cow the loser into silence.

The Margravine is the official protector and champion of the Manticore Gardens, which by necessity also means that they are one of the finest warriors. When someone from without, whether they are a prince or a goddess, threatens the Gardens, which happens from time-to-time, it is the responsibility of the Margravine to challenge them to single-combat.

The Sovereign's Tower is the Sovereign Babylon's personal bodyguard, ensuring that no harm should ever come to Her person or the delicate, arcane machineries that sustain Her.

The Master Calendographice has the responsibility of divining not only when one season should end and the next begin, but which season should succeed the current one; most claim to make their determinations based on astrological movements and the taste of the air, but they may very well make it all up. Generally replaced when their predictions become rote and unexciting.

The Bacchanalian in Rags is characterized by a sort of gluttonous monasticism, rejecting the false beauty of fine clothes and elegant jewelry to focus entirely on the true pleasures of the body. As the name suggests, they dress only in tattered rags that expose their bare flesh in a most deliberately-unfashionable manner.

The Gormogon is the gleefully-anarchistic uprooter of conspiracies, seeking out schemes and machinations, from the petty to the grand, and patiently infiltrating them until finally, violently tearing away the veil of secrecy and exposing them to the searing light of public opinion.

The Aughad fulfills the vital role of the pusher-of-boundaries. Even in a society as permissive as the Manticore Gardens, there are codes of conduct, certain strictures and taboos that should not be transgressed. It is the Aughad's purpose to indulge in the proscribed and forbidden for the sake of doing so. It is a taxing, exhausting role, for as soon as they have succeeded in making the taboo the accepted, they must immediately find some fresh new deviancy to engage in.

[ooc]To come: a more complete list of singular and important titles and offices. Hope you all found this much illuminating.[/ooc]

[ooc]I'm also getting the feeling that a good way to describe the setting would be Oglaf the RPG. Or sort of like Adventure Time: Princess Bubblegum is the Noble, Finn's the Knight, Jake is a gargoyle, BMO's a tulpa, and it's full of weirdly-shaped elementals and animal-people.[/ooc]

I've added a few (hopefully) evocative titles to the list as well as a section on the new Würme, which I may or may not keep, depending.

I'm loving the titles, especially the Gormogon and Aughad, who seem to be drawing on the trope of the clown or jester, violating boundaries while immune to reproach for doing so.  Very evocative flavor these days.