This is my gaming group's new setting for our upcoming 4e campaign. What started as an aside, followed by a vague and altogether plagiarized --oops, I mean 'synthesized'-- outline and then a torrent of collaborative creative effort while ostensibly on the clock is now, more-or-less, a workable setting. We think it's swell. It's primarily the work of myself and another friend, with editing from a third, and terrific maps from a fourth.
What follows are setting-info posts from the campaign's message board. I'll post the major NPC's too, as they do lot to lend, ahem, character to the setting.
On the Shores of an Infinite Ocean
Almost all cultures have a story of the Apocalypse, which will eventually claim the known world, whether they call it Ragnarok, the End Times, Kaliyuga, or the Big Wang. They claim that a new world will be born from the ashes of the old, or that all creation will be divided between heaven and hell, or that a new cyclical age will begin and replicate the previous one, etc. Unfortunately, as far as your world is concerned, they were all dead wrong. In fact, most of them are just dead.
You, on the other hand, are very much alive. As is whatever part of the world which survived the Apocalypse, a narrow band of mundane reality on average a hundred miles wide and stretching several hundred miles from north to south. Commonly called the Middling Lands, it is situated between the Aster Sea (a vast, mostly metaphysical, ocean) to the east and the Interior (just as metaphysical, but more solid and less wet '" as a rule) to the west. Located on the shore of the Aster midway along the Middling Lands is the Port, and this is where your story begins.
The Apocalypse
In common parlance, the apocalypse that ended your world is referred to as the Calamity, which separated the World Before from the World After. It happened about five hundred years ago, since nobody remembers a time before that, even the longest-lived inhabitants of the Middling Lands finding their memories growing foggy around that point. Hence, nobody is quite sure what created the Calamity. Some say it was the result of an apocalyptic final battle between the Dragonborn and Tiefling empires. Others say it was the result of the two empires' apocalyptic cooperation in an attempt to halt Time and thus prevent the coming Age of Men. Some say that the Calamity was caused by the separation of Heaven and Hell and the remains of the mortal world now occupy the same metaphysical space as Purgatory/Limbo. Others say the Calamity was some strange cosmic joke and this world is the punch-line. In short, nobody knows.
Geography
The cold, mountainous northern region is referred to as The Unassailable North. The wet, tropical southern region is called the Snake States, after its three major nations. The Border Kingdoms stretch along and through the Great Girding Forest along the edge of the Interior. The fertile area directly around the port is called the Clutch.
The Interior is a primal land that philosophers say corresponds to the psyche, a panoramic landscape where myths are born. At first the Interior seems terrifyingly empty, and later it seems terrifying full. Travelers are frequently attacked by the things they fear the most; their personal demons. It is said that if you travel far enough into the Interior, you'll reach the Ultimate Self. First yours, and then God's.
The Aster Sea is populated with innumerable islands, which may lead to other planes of existence. To sail east on the Aster is to sail away from human understanding. Sail far enough and you'll reach the end of existence. Or at least get to the Other Side, the land of the dead. It's the job of the Black Ships, which arrive in the Port each morning and depart each evening to carry them there.
The Port and It's Districts
The Port is the largest remaining seaport in the world, and the only place where ships that ply the Aster, including the Black Ships, make landfall. It lies in a delta formed by two rivers; the River Livia and the Ossuary Flow, which originates in the Interior. Strange things sometimes float in on the Ossuary; empty stone boats, giant infants in reed baskets, potential Messiahs.
In a way, the city is every port city of the World Before folded into one; a riot of architectural styles and eras. In some places this is the result of normal building on top of previous construction, in others it's a parfait of folded, urban space-time, including bits of the future world yet-to-come. In the port you never quite know what you'll find in someone's basement'¦
The port is not only a center for commerce across the Aster. It's also home to the massive train station that serves the Gog-Magog Line, a single rail line running inland, parallel to the coast. The train is powered by two enormous Stone Golems, Dragonborn relics from the World Before, who '˜live' in the station. Working to an exacting but inscrutable schedule, they pull a string of cars attached to a heavy chain. When Gog is pulling, Magog lets out the slack of the chain...and vice-versa.
The port is divided into 12 districts, with the Governor's offices and mansion making an unofficial 13th. The districts include'¦
Rumcastle gets its name from Lord Rum's Castle, one the port's most famous buildings, a defensive fortification built right in the middle of the city by Lord Rum, a vain and daring bootlegger who became so powerful that he challenged the Governor himself during a period that became known as Lord Rum's Rebellion. It's said that the Governor would have lost if he hadn't been able to trick the God of Temperance into returning from Beyond-the-Sea to kill Lord Rum in a duel. Adventurers still seek Lord Rum's lost sword, the one he plunged into the god's liver before dying. The sword is now called Intemperance.
The Sway of Medallion is one of the nicest parts of town, almost a gated community within the confines of the port, with the houses well-kept, the residents prosperous and learned, the streets clean. Jealous neighbors speculate about precisely how high the cost of living there is and what that cost might entail. The neighborhood is named for its most distinctive resident; Medallion, an avuncular man in his later years. No one dares claim they know his real name. He is always seen wearing an enormous jeweled medallion commonly known to be magical. His large estate on the hill commands an excellent view of the port. It is said his house is one of blessed and/or cursed places that contain folded pieces of the World Before. While residents claim to like Medallion that does nothing to prevent the rumors about him; that he is really a demon or homunculus or parasite. That his soul is housed in his medallion. How he was a young man only a few scant years. For such a public figure, these rumors should be easy to dismiss, but as everyone knows, rumors are by far the most stable currency in the port.
The Stagger is home to the city's greatest concentration of thieves and ne'er-do-wells. Its main thoroughfare is Crook Street, which doubles back so many times the residents say it's trying to lose itself, which it probably is.
The artists of the Quadrille claim their district is so named because a life in arts is like a lively yet elegant dance. In truth it's called that because '˜quadrille' sounds fancy and the district is roughly square. Most call it the Ready-Made, after the port's first authentic artist movement, which was, in fact, larceny. Artists of this '˜school' would steal anything halfway interesting looking that wasn't nailed down, and exhibit them in '˜galleries' that frequently doubled as pawn shops.
The Breakers is the neighborhood behind a section of the perennially-being-rebuilt Sea Wall where the enormous pieces of flotsam that are deposited by storms into the harbor are brought to be broken up by men with adamantine hammers. Each hammer is worth the cost of 100 men's lives, and attempts to steal one are punished accordingly. Most of these pieces of '˜flotsam' are huge chunks of obsidian from Avernus, the outermost of the Infernal Isles. They are broken down and used as morally-suspect building material, as well as in Rituals. Sometimes the pieces contain devils, devil larvae, and demons. Sometimes they're themselves alive. Either way, the men of the Breakers *try* to put them to the hammer. The glass that's hammered down in the Breakers is sold in large quantities to shipwrights Across-the-Sea who build the Black Ships. The glass doesn't float; it's more accurate to say that it is continually being '˜cast out' by the waters of the Aster Sea, and thus cannot be submerged. Thus the only way to sink a Black Ship is to crack it two.
The district called the Shambles is exactly that.
Five Fathoms Market is the name of both the largest open-air market in the port and the district it's located in. Many goods from Across-the-Sea are available there. It's sometimes called Five Phantoms Market, because it is haunted by the ghosts of five historic personages. Ritual Row is a part of Five Fathoms Market. More Rituals, both real and faux, are sold there than in any other place, except for the Port of Dis.
The Watchtower District is named for the structure which rises from its streets, towering over the waterfront. It's a carved representation of humanoid arms, raised high and cupping an enormous eyeball which floats a few inches above the stone. The eye is in constant motion, scanning the Aster, looking for someone or something. Its original purpose is long forgotten, but the luminescent quality of its gaze allows the Tower to function as a sort of lighthouse. While the Watchtower District is its official name, most port residents call it the Gaze. The Watchtower Eye is also called the Panopticon, and it occasionally sheds a sort of tear -- this, upon striking the ground below, splashes about and forms a number of much smaller duplicates of the Eye. These are much in demand as setting for exotic jewelry, and if it is a virtual certainty that the big eye is seeing what the small ones do...well, doubtless that actually appeals to some. Members of the Order of the Watch are festooned with such things, and many take it as their duty to travel as much and as far as possible, to increase the Eye's chance of finding whatever it is that it's looking for.
Technically there's a University district, but the school is by and large overshadowed by the Dragon Library. Though part of the university, it's self-governed and a powerful institution in its own right. It gets its name from the two ancient metal dragon statues that flank the front entrance, said to be dormant engines created by the Dragonborn in the World Before. Most residents call this neighborhood as the Hush, though some refer to it as '˜Down in the Dragon'. The library is the home of the Cataloged Mysteries, a collection of possibly untranslatable books from Across and Beyond-the-Sea. The librarians have been acquiring them from the Black Ships for years. The Dragon Librarians all carry arms and know how to use them. They also carry water-soaked cloths with them at all times while on duty. This is because there of a group dedicated to killing the librarians, or better still, burning the library to the ground. This group is called the Illiterati (also the Know-Nothing Brigade) and they believe one of the books in the Cataloged Mysteries is the Doomsday Book, which if it's successfully translated and read it will bring about the end of the world. It's possible that the Illiterati are simply ignorant of the fact that the world has already ended, or perhaps their motivations are something else entirely. The University/Library district is known as the Hush, though some refer to the area around the library as '˜down in the Dragon.'
The Ethical Circus is home to gladiatorial pits, and the '˜national' sport is pit-fighting with various exotic animals from the Aster and the Interior. Many citizens are fanatical followers of these matches. Some of the Magistrates disprove, however, and during their tenure over the Ethical Circus the pits are temporarily converted to theaters and churches, except for the ones that continue to operate illegally.
Gog-Magog Station is a district built around the vast rail yard which houses the massive stone golems that pull the train on the Gog-Magog line (it is also rumored to be the terminus of the Apocryphal Line, which runs '"sometimes, a few times a year or decade, on moonless nights or during thunderstorms, during famines or unexpected bounties-- into the Interior).. The district also houses a landmark called the Spindle, which is part of the pulley system of adamantine chains that operate the train. Below the Spindle is a giant cistern of liquid mercury that's part of the system which cools/lubricates the chains.
The Hereafter, also called the Interim, is the neighborhood of the waiting dead.
Politics, Law and Disorder
The port is ruled by a Governor, a deeply paranoid fellow. He in turn claims allegiance to the never-seen Duke Beyond the Sea, who might be immortal, dead, or the product of the Governor's paranoid delusions. Portraits of the Duke resemble the Horned God in fancy dress.
The governor has appointed Magistrates, one for each district of the city, to keep the Peace and enforce the Law. Unfortunately, he hasn't defined either of those terms, and the Magistrates (each with a private army of bailiffs/cops) are largely free to follow their own whims. Even more unfortunately, every few weeks, entirely at random, the Governor draws lots and reassigns each magistrate to a different district. Ostensibly this is to reduce corruption and graft, and to make it more difficult for them to establish enough of a power-base to be a potential threat, but most folk are convinced that he's doing this just to fuck with the populace. People are adaptable, however, and have learned to exploit this. It's not uncommon for fugitives to flee from one district to another; the Magistrates' men are fiercely territorial, and will often let a runner go free just to give the give their rivals the middle finger. And of course, what's a crime in the Breakers today might be perfect legal in the Shambles...although it's entirely possible that this will change with tomorrow's sunrise.
The Governor himself has a large force of soldiers working for him. Minotaurs, for the most part, they are officially known as the Horned Guard, although the people refer to them as the Cuckolds. The Cuckolds are led by a giant in black armor known only as the Crow, Captain Crow to his face.
The Dead
The dead cohabitate with the living in the port, to the chagrin of both communities. The Eternal Bureaucracy, which co-exists with the port in some metaphysical way, processes the spirits of the dead, assigns them an afterlife, and ships them across the Aster Sea to their final destination -- ideally. In practice, the Eternal Bureaucracy is just as riddled by corruption, red-tape, and general incompetence as any mortal agency. More so, even. The majority of the dead spend years waiting to be processed. Centuries, in a few cases.
The district where most of the dead spend their time waiting until the Bureaucracy will see them is the Hereafter, or the Interim. There are, of course, Things that prey upon these luckless bastards, resulting in plenty of available berths on the Black Ships.
For those who wish to cheat the whole process, they can seek out the services of the Lithogenic Guild; Medusae and their kin, who will (for a fee) turn their clients into stone so that they can await the End of World (well, the next End of the World) in peace and relative safety. There is a ritual, in fact, that allows the Dead to reanimate their own corpses, and walk among the living once more. It's a way of passing the time, continuing to annoy your relations, and perhaps earning some cash with which to bribe the bureaucrats. Cremation, not surprisingly, is quite popular.
Some of the waiting dead allow themselves to be fermented into Recollection Wine. A sad, heady vintage, to be sure, but not without its devotees. Since mortal kidneys aren't equipped to break down the immortal soul, the wine eventually leaves the imbiber. Oenophiles refer to this as '˜passing grief'. The individual spirits reconstitute themselves in the port's sewer, or slightly out to sea. Most return only to sell themselves anew. Some souls do this for free, as a way of living again, if only for a time, in another person's mind, and bladder.
Religion
The Port's history is marked by periods of increased religiosity '" normally prayer is more a species of commerce '"called Revivals, usually the result of the arrival of a new prophet, Messiah, or actual god. The Gods of the port have all come from Beyond-the-Sea or wandered in from the Interior over the years. Rarely, two new gods arrive at the same time, causing a Schism, a period of righteous war. Lord Rum rose to power during the end of the last Revival, after the Governor decreed a Prohibition in an attempt curry favor with the newly-arrived God of Temperance.
One of the resident deities is the Eroded God '" an enormous figure of carven stone, its features worn away long before it came staggering up out of the surf. It can't actually speak in anything other than an unintelligible mumble, but the priesthood will happily translate for a modest fee. It's worked a number of minor miracles over the years (curing the sick, calling down bolts from the blue, and such-like), but it has a difficult time staying focused on such tasks. By and large it is content to set in its temple, listening to music and watching scantily-clad women dance, making the occasional prophecy or pronouncement. Or what is assumed to be such.
The Cult of That-Which-Is-Not worships a Sphere of Annihilation, which is either a path to paradise or a one-way ticket off the wheel of existence entirely.
An abandoned temple houses an entity known only as The Dog. An enormous hound, the size of a war-horse, it's apparently immortal (some 200 years old now) and virtually unkillable (as testified by the number of now dead folk who have tried). It wanders throughout the building, never showing any particular signs of more-than-canine intelligence, and will occasionally accept gifts of food from petitioners. Those whose offerings are accepted find themselves receiving a small blessing of some sort -- luck in love, recovery from illness, a sudden windfall. The Dog is served by a small and fanatical priesthood, who follow it about and clean up after it. They make a small living for themselves selling its droppings in the Five Fathoms Market, where buyers assume that the crap of a Dog that might be a God *has* to be worth something. If nothing else, it makes excellent fertilizer.
There are other gods, of course, great and small. Some accumulate worshipers, others prefer anonymity
While not worshiped per se, demons/devils come in from the Aster Sea, while angels wander in from the Interior. Some devils are tractable and honorable, after a fashion, and some angels remain terrifying, destructive and mad.
Organization of Note
The Preservation Alliance seeks to preserve the port's historic architecture. They seem, however, strangely interested in ancient relics as well as in new discoveries and inventions.
The Oceanographic Guild attempts to chart the whole of the Aster Sea, which is the most dangerous pursuit in the world. It's made up of mystics and suicides.
The Geographic Society attempts to map the Interior, which is the second most dangerous pursuit in the world. It's made up of mystics and suicides that are afraid of water but like camping.
The Guild of Revelry controls most of the 'entertainers' operating out of the artist's district known as the Quadrille. Rumor says its masters seek a monopoly on the very concept of pleasure.
Residents of the port think of Petitioners Hall as a kind of church. They write petitions '" but only the nasty ones; may so-and-so lose their beauty or fall ill or suffer a fatal accident '" on small pieces of paper, place them in boxes full of sums of money, and then hand them to the Petitioners, who ask no questions. They believe the Petitioners then voice their petitions to the powers Beyond-the-Sea. A surprisingly large number of petitions do come true. Perhaps not so surprisingly, there seems to be some correlation with the amount of accompanying money.
The Agents of Fate, also called Fateful, or the Army of the Fateful, do the bidding of a wholly unknown master. They perform various acts, great and small, in order to prevent a great disaster and/or make something wonderful come about...none seem entirely sure. Their actions seem to be entirely random stuff '" kill him, save her, drop this coin at that intersection, say this name aloud in this bar at precisely that time '" with no apparent rhyme or reason. The problem comes from other Agents of an apparently different Fate, who are working at cross purposes. Save him, kill her, pick up that coin, have a loud coughing fit at 3:07 EXACTLY, and so on. This can lead to some very bizarre conflicts, which can easily be mistaken for a form of performance art.
The Port is home to the Aero-Nautical Corps, an organization of aviation enthusiasts that uses tamed Aster Starfish as lift sources. Resembling enormous versions of the mundane puffer fish (leading to their nickname '˜Awesome Blowfish'), Aster Starfish are lighter than air because they're filled with the void and infinitely-remote stars. Few of the beasts have been successfully tamed, but the site of one of these fish swimming slowly and majestically through the sky, a ship dangling beneath it, is a common one in the Port. A few aeronauts have discovered how to make their Starfish project black bolts of the void from their dorsal spines, leading to spectacular aerial battles, collateral property damage, and, unfortunately, a rise in airship piracy.
The Grand Armada is the port's navy. The Governor has sole access to a ritual that allows ships made of mundane wood to sail the Aster and survive the experience '" under normal circumstances, the planking is all too likely to mutate and start putting forth new roots '" and he uses this magic to keep the Armada afloat. And under his thumb. He also sells it to private merchantmen, for a hefty fee. The captain and crew need to vacate the ship while it is being performed, but the results are good for a year and a day. However, the Armada's flagship, The Delicate Needle of Inquisitive Purpose, isn't wood at all. It's a recovered Black Ship that had been split in two by the Kraken.
The Aster Sea
The Aster Sea has many names '" the Sea of Dreams, Quiddity, the Twilight Sea, the Sea of Shadows, the Sea of Means, the Sea of Ends, the Disaster. Most people prefer to call it the Aster. The waves that lap the coast vary from day to day; from saltwater to fresh, from the consistency of bitter tears to the clear, cold of fresh regret. Sages say it's always exactly what people need. Despite governmental warnings, the poor, foolish and desperate both swim and bathe in the sea. Parents warn their children not to put their heads underwater. Those that do sometimes emerge changed, or as Changelings, or as entirely different people. Some even bottle the Aster's water for drinking. Despite an Edict from the Governor banning the consumption of fish caught in the sea, the poor do so regularly. The hungry have no use for Edicts. Being superstitious, the poor do avoid eating the fish that talk, or at least the ones who plead their cases well. The city beaches are usually crowded with romantics and suicides.
Somewhere in the Sea is the lost island of Mu, which is said to be a piece of the World Before and the original home of mankind. Some people claim to see the souls of the dead departing from the port in the Black Ships. Worse, some claim to see the souls of dead who jump ship and come back to be illegally reborn. The Eladrin hail from the Blessed Isle, not far off the coast. They are originally from a place they call the '˜Waking Lands'. They insist the entire time they spend in this world is a dream. The Elves, who are also from the Blessed Isle, insist that world was the dream, one from which they wakened after they heard the call of the Great Girding Forrest and relocated there. Hell is the Infernal Islands, of which there are nine, surrounded by concentric reefs of obsidian and Devil's Coral. In the center is a fabled Port of Brass (also called Dis), home to a market in which the most powerful of rituals and items may be purchased at the cost of one's, well, someone's, mortal soul.
Sailing East into the Sea is sailing away from human and mortal understanding; it's sailing into the Other. Nearer to shore you find islands full of the close-to-mortal; half-elves, were-creatures, the more conventional boogeyman. Farther out you encounter beholders, mind-flayers and assorted abominations. Eventually, you might find the Elder Gods of Chaos. Residents of the Middling Lands use the phrase '˜across-the-sea' to refer to the realms that can be reached by sailing the Aster. They use the phrase '˜beyond-the-sea' to denote the completely unknown and unknowable.
The Interior
The Interior is a place of terrifying beauty, vast under a pitiless sun; with snow-capped mountains, rift valleys concealing lush jungles, enormous-yet-somehow hidden lakes.
For example, deep in the Interior is a mist-shrouded lake on a high plateau, which only those '˜clothed in virtue' can approach. The lake is the source of the Ossuary Flow. In it is the skeletal corpse of God. Bones of all shapes and size from His body break off '" frequently. They go over the edge at the Falls of Adam and are ground to bits on the rocks below. These shards eventually wind up the Middling Lands, and give the river its name. Sometimes, whole unbroken bones are found. These contain fresh Divine Marrow, which is the component of the Raise Dead Ritual. Obviously, the chance of finding whole bones increases as you approach the source.
The Middling Lands
The Unassailable North is home to many clans of hardy, free, savage peoples. In general they are more superstitious than their southern neighbors and less accepting of things from Across-the-Sea, though what they lack in tolerance they make up for in strength, cunning and an enviable practicality. Beyond their lands lies the Frozen Pole.
Collectively, the city-states of Syssiphoor and Syphillume, and the Principality of Asp make up the Snake States, which are located in far southern reaches of the Middling Lands. Syssiphoor and Syphillume sit in the flood plain of the brackish River Twist. Both are corrupt bureaucracies overrun with serpent cults, slaves, and slavers; all addled by the drugs appropriate to their station. Each city maintains a navy which doubles as a slaving fleet. Coiling in a rain forest plateau above them is the Principality of Asp, a place of greater purpose than the indulgent cities below, ruled by a Queen of dubious morality and mortality. The Snake States are generally unpleasant, full of eunuchs, lies and treacheries; the land crisscrossed with slow, swollen rivers and tarry black lakes full of poisoned water. Beyond them lies the Burning Pole.
Directly west of the port and for some miles to the north and south lies the central part of the Middling Lands. Residents of the port call it the Clutch, after the way the locals there hold onto the memory of the World Before. Villages in the Clutch tend to have word names; Song, Hearth, Forge, Ocelot. Not coincidentally, Song is known for its singers, Hearth for its food, Forge for its ironmongery, and Ocelot for its custom of citizens wearing animal masks and indulging in baroque, stealthy games. Some philosophers say that The World Before wasn't broken in just a physical sense, but an ontological one as well. The Clutch is covered with ruins of language, and the Meanings contained therein, which stick out of the psychic landscape there like statues half-buried in the sand, which cast an influence over was built in their shade. Seen from the Other Side, Forge is almost unbearably hot, with a constant clangor that makes conversation with the Dead all but impossible. Hearth has the smell of a wondrous feast hanging in the air, while Ocelot has a bloody great cat wandering about and chewing up souls.
The River Livia runs through the Clutch. According to popular opinion it alone nourishes the fertile land there, even though the Ossuary Flow runs through as well. The Livia originates beyond the Great Girding Forest, in the Highlands of the Border with the Interior, at a place called Maiden Lake. The Lake does, in fact, boast a magical maiden. Some call her Livia, others, Plurabelle '" she of many good graces '" and insist that the entire river is her body. Legends say that heroes come to her for her blessing, and, more importantly, for her magic sword. Her relationship with these heroes is ambiguous at best. She's called both 'Kingmaker' and 'Kingslayer', and is described as both supremely chaste and a devil in the sack. And while her blessings flow free and easy, the sword is never given. It is always rented or leased, for an undisclosed but presumed terrible cost.
West of the Clutch on the edge of the Interior lies the Great Girding Forrest and the Border Kingdoms. It's a region rich with warring feudal states, knights, and magical forests, the kind of place where men hunt stag-gods, maidens and each other. In the Border Kingdoms all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average. This is probably due to its proximity to the Interior. Despite their obvious qualities the men of the Border Kingdoms often seem lost in the port, as if in a fever dream.
Well, that's it for now. I'll post the rest later tonight.
Stealing from one source is plagiarism. Stealing from many sources is research. Before accusing me of doing the former above (since I did not use any quotation marks), here's a little research (http://listserv.linguistlist.org/cgi-bin/wa?A2=ind0404B&L=ads-l&P=6919).
"Located on the shore of the Aster midway along the Middling Lands is the Port,. . ." Do I understand correctly then that the midway has a boardwalk? (When I read the sentence I thought that the question came from the Smartass Voice in my head. By the time I got halfway through your next entry I realized it was in fact the Prophet's.)
Anyway, this is one of the most delightful settings I've seen in ages! Certain aspects beg the question (which I didn't note among the listed theories) of whether or not
it is actually a dwelling place of the dead and the Black Ships are taking them to finally reincarnate. (Not that this question should be any more answerable than the others.) BTW, <picks up fire-axe, stolen from the Death of Fireflies> do you read Terry Pratchet?
An aerial battle between celestial blowfish shooting bolts of void? Now this is what I call fantasy.
Quote from: Snargash MoonclawAnyway, this is one of the most delightful settings I've seen in ages!
Certain aspects beg the question (which I didn't note among the listed theories) of whether or not
it is actually a dwelling place of the dead and the Black Ships are taking them to finally reincarnate. (Not that this question should be any more answerable than the others.)[/quote]BTW, <picks up fire-axe, stolen from the Death of Fireflies> do you read Terry Pratchet?[/quote]
Oddly, no. I've read the 1st Discworld novel, the one w/Rincewind and the Luggage.
Quote from: Munchausen's MonkeyAn aerial battle between celestial blowfish shooting bolts of void? Now this is what I call fantasy.
Come to think of it, that
is pretty fantastic. I can't claim credit for the idea of airships hanging suspended beneath airborne puffer fish, but I was the one responsible for arming them with the void.
Some Remarks on the Races of the Port
The Dragonborn Magna Publica Machina, the Great Machine of State, was one of the two great powers of the World Before. Where the Tiefling Imperium Goetia had demons and devils to do their bidding, the Dragonborn had devices of cunning intricacy, wedded to magics of power and subtlety. It was the Dragonborn who made the automatons now called Warforged, although the secret of commanding their obedience has long since been lost.
At times, a Dragonborn will become lost within the Interior (and thus, within himself). Most such unfortunates are never seen again, but others somehow manage to find their true selves in the wastes, and to embrace that aspect of their Self. Such individuals are known as Dragons, and the emergence of one from the Outback is a cause for both celebration and terror. Few linger in the World for very long; most pass on across the Aster, to parts unknown.
Tieflings seem quite at home in the World After. They refer to it as the Show, and insist what they call '˜the final curtain' is yet to come.
Halflings are humans who, as they hit the age of 10 or so, stop growing and start changing into something that is not quite human. As their ears develop points, they become quicker, stronger, and much, much luckier. Most end up on the streets, rejected by their own family; Halflings, as is well known, simply cannot be trusted. Of course, it's no surprise that so many Halflings turn to thievery in order to survive, under the circumstances. Halflings are themselves infertile, but they know their own even before they change. It's not uncommon for a Halfling to kidnap a child, and take him to grow up among his own kind. The common belief is that the Halflings are actually changing human children, using some twisted ritual, but this is nonsense. Mostly. This, of course, contributes even further to the reputation that Halflings have, and is one reason that they stay on the move as much as possible. Common wisdom has it that trimming a Halflings ears will make him human once more; this is not in fact the case, but that hasn't kept it from happening with appalling regularity.
Gnomes wear peaked caps, deep red in color, dyed with the blood of their many victims. They kill easily and casually, moving unseen and slitting throats on behalf of their Eladrin masters. No one with any sense trifles with a gnome, lest he take offense and murder the perpetrator. And his family. And the dog (they like cats).
The Dwarves have a holy task; they are working to carve the chambers and caverns deep below the surface into an enormous musical instrument sounded by the underground movement of air, one that will '" when it is completed '" sound the Last Trump, finish the apocalypse, and allow the new world to be born. In the meantime, Orthodox Dwarves spend their entire lives underground, venturing to the surface only when it is absolutely necessary. And even then, they keep all exposed flesh covered; only when The Job is done will they be allowed to feel the touch of sunlight once more. A lot of dwarves reject this, not surprisingly. They leave their homes and family behind and venture to the surface to forge new lives for themselves. When they get older, many of them return to the caverns of their birth, take up their tools, and get to work once again. It just seems like the right thing to do.
Shadar-Kai are children conceived in the brothels on the Other Side; half alive, half dead, belonging neither to this world nor the next but passing more or less freely between the two. Many act as intermediaries between the living and the dead, passing on the wishes of those caught in the machinations of the Eternal Bureaucracy to their surviving relatives.
Orcs come from somewhere within the Aster; they will not discuss their origins. The ignorant talk of a place called the Monstrous Archipelago, but it's just a rumor. Orcs arrive in the Port on ships of carved bone, silently disembark, and never look back as the ships sail back to wherever they came from. Orcs are highly in demand as bodyguards and soldiers; they will work for anyone willing to pay them, will do whatever they are to ordered to do without protest, and are utterly faithful to their current employer. What they do with the money they are paid is one of the many small mysteries of the Port. Those who chose to leave the ranks of their people have the memories of thier homeland literally carved from their brain.
Goblinoids '" goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears, and ogres, probably ettins as well '" are folk who have been changed by the Aster; either by the sea itself, or by being caught in one of the storms that blows in off the sea. The waters mutate them into things of horrific appearance and bizarre shapes '" no two look exactly alike. The people of the port call them Flotsam, or 'The Changed' if they are being polite. They are a despised and generally exploited underclass, doing much of the dirty and dangerous labor for the Port. The Driftglass Society is making an attempt to organize them into a sort of political force, but have met with little luck thus far. Most of the Changed are altered in mind as well as in body.
Gnolls begin life as hyenas, living on the fringes of the Interior. After consuming a living human '" and his soul '" they rapidly grow and change, developing the ability speak, to walk upright, and to use weapons. This last, they do with particular eagerness. Packs often grow regularly, as gnolls take travelers captive and feed them, still alive, to the hyenas that travel with them.
The Kuo-Toa are somewhat resistant to the effects of the Aster; most of them work at the docks as stevedores, loading and unloading the ships that come to the port. They keep to themselves, and only a few designated representatives can speak or understand Common.
Doppelgangers, also called the All-Men, were normal humans changed by the power of the Interior. A doppelganger is literally '˜Everyman' (or woman). Shifters are either human beings who have regressed to a more bestial state, or animals who have evolved into something that is arguably more advanced, again due to the influence of the Interior.
Concepts and Miscellany
The sun rises in the west from the Interior, and sets in the east, into the Aster Sea.
Residuum: it's literally the residue from the torn-apart World Before. The inhabitants of the port use it to forge magic items. Some items that originate from the Interior and Across-the-Sea can't be broken down into Residuum, but they can be used as a part of item creation Rituals to impart special properties.
Language has a strange power and existence in the World After, which manifests in myriad and only rarely consistent ways. One of the few, for example, is that everyone '˜knows' the true name of the Port as well as they know their own name. But nobody can remember where or when they first learned that name, let alone who from, and no two people know it by the same one. For convenience, it's usually referred to as 'Here', or 'There', or simply as 'The Port'.
The map of the Middling Lands...
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The map of the Port...
(//../../e107_files/public/1220583663_812_FT54792_smallwithcolorkeygg6_.jpg) (//../../e107_files/public/1220583663_812_FT54792_smallwithcolorkeygg6.jpg)
And that's it, for now. I'll post the personages of historic importance, and some others, over the next few days.
Comments, criticism, general observations et al are appreciated.
The humor reminds me of Pratchett, but darker and more perverse. (This constitutes high praise.) I brought up the question about the setting being the actual land of the dead not so much as a possible meta-game reality as a probable in-game working theory for some groups. Don't know if you have, or plan to use, any actual meta-game definition at all - my approach to things like this is to minimize it to no more than is necessary for consistency/continuity at the least visible level, while presenting numerous and often conflicting theories. Such questions are unlikely to ever be resolved in any definitive manner and if GMed well enough can even leave the players arguing their pet theories out of game. . . You've already presented and/or alluded to enough possibilities to really have fun with any more philosophically minded players/PCs here. I definitely agree w/Vreeg re: "real world" but it really appeals to my penchant for surreality and I would love to play in the setting.
QuoteIt is said that if you travel far enough into the Interior, you'll reach the Ultimate Self. First yours, and then God's.
I don't know quite why this gets to me so much, but it does. It's the kind of titbit that makes me salivate in a not-quite PG-13 fashion. Really reminds me of a cross between Ankh-Morpork and New Crobuzon, with a touch of Neverwhere. As a major fan of Mieville, Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, all to inordinate degrees, this is really just one big smorgasboard of awesome.
Nothing more to say than, well, more.
EDIT: Oh, and that beautiful city map just makes me want to cry.
Quote from: Snargash MoonclawThe humor reminds me of Pratchett, but darker and more perverse.
Thanks. I was intentionally shooting for a kind of perverse, storybook feel, perhaps my collaborators were more consciously trying to ape Pratchett. He's a writer I need to read more of. Hell, even A.S. Byatt sings his praises...
[quote1220630602]I brought up the question about the setting being the actual land of the dead not so much as a possible meta-game reality as a probable in-game working theory for some groups.[/quote]
Thinking on it more, the real question the setting should pose is: what's the difference between the living and the dead? In the port they mingle, interact, engage in commerce. "Living" and "dead" are clearly different states, so it's unlikely that the entire place in the afterlife. Maybe its all some kind of commentary on belief systems that posit an afterlife that's essentially the same as the living world, except, you know, better. Which this obviously isn't.
[quote1220630602]You've already presented and/or alluded to enough possibilities to really have fun with any more philosophically minded players/PCs here.[/quote]
I think "alluded to" is a great way to describe our approach to setting in general; rather then exhaustively and explicitly detailing the setting, we alluded to things, made sly remarks, tried to drop some pretty phrases meant to inspire the reader, rather than just provide hard data.
If I'm going to put the setting to any philosophical use, it's to explore the idea that the campaign world is the start of the golden age of humankind; a time of exploration, expansion, industry and art. Unfortunately, this is occurring after the end of the world, amidst the literal ruins of the physical and metaphysical worlds. A time of both vitality and melancholy, as it were.
That is, unless my philosophizing and thematic dramatics get me pelted with dice by my players...
Quote from: Salacious AngelI don't know quite why this gets to me so much, but it does. It's the kind of titbit that makes me salivate in a not-quite PG-13 fashion.
Glad you liked that bit. I was trying to pay attention to the language used in the setting write up. To make it more like fiction and less like an encyclopedia or technical manual. It's supposed to inspire/entertain the reader to run the setting, as opposed to just flooding them with detail.
Frankly, a lot of parts I wrote were a deliberate attempt to keep myself interested in the process.
[quote1220631856]Really reminds me of a cross between Ankh-Morpork and New Crobuzon, with a touch of Neverwhere.[/quote]
While I haven't read much Pratchett, I've read my share of Mieville and Gaiman. There's also quite of bit of Clive Barker in this, and the whole idea of the Interior comes from Sam Keith's comic, The Maxx.
[quote1220631856O]... and that beautiful city map just makes me want to cry.
[/quote]
Thanks. I had nothing to do with those. One friend did the continent map using Campaign Cartographer, and another made the city map in Photoshop.
Mallus,
Thanks for joining us over here at the CBG. I can attest that your campaign post over at ENWORLD has single-handedly inspired me to adopt/hybridize some of your ideas into my own campaign. I hope our wonderful little community can help contribute and inspire towards your own campaign building as well!
Cheers,
Daniel
I've always found that NPC's are the most important part of a successful setting. Probably because they're the parts of it that the players talk to. Anyway, here are an assortment of characters one can find around the port. Unless otherwise noted, they are human beings.
Local Color:
Vellum Bellicose is the head librarian at the Dragon Library. He was an orphan named by a fortune teller. His curious name comes from the vellum bellicose, the material on which the Dukes of the Infernal Isles write their formal declarations of war. The name is also synonymous with the writs themselves.
Vellum is a quiet man, given to study. As both his hobby and part of his duties at the Library he is making a list of all the names for the port. This will take many lifetimes, which he may, in fact, have seeing as this task has left him... curiously altered. Vellum is also the port's best marksmen. He owns a nearly priceless pair of Anathema pistols.
Erik Anathema is the Port's foremost gunsmith, despite being almost entirely blind. He charges exorbitant prices for his work, but none can deny that they are worth it -- his creations are both beautiful and reliable, a delight to the hand and the eye alike. Anathema keeps a god in his workshop, an entity called The Juddering Manxome, that protects and inspires him. Each of Erik's guns has a invocation to the Juddering Manxome etched upon it, and each time one of those guns is fired it is a prayer to Him -- the god hears its voice and knows its target.
Count Orquiel is the ambassador from the Hells, which are referred to locally as the Infernal Isles. He looks like an enormous man with the head of a crocodile, riding on a skinless lion. If he can, as is generally believed, take other shapes, he has never been known to do so. The Embassy's gates are always open, and Orquiel will cheerfully accept visitors at any time of day or night.
He rarely leaves the Embassy grounds, only occasionally attending a function at the Governor's estate. He's a surprisingly good dancer. Or rather, the flayed lion is.
Lord Henry Jacinth is a kindly old racist, the founder and leader of a political movement called the Red Wheel. It's his belief that the world cannot advance until those responsible for ending it -- the Dragonborn and the Tieflings -- are gone. And so, politely and gently, he leads a campaign to establish death camps for the world-killers.
Jacinth publicly decries the violence that has been done in the name of the Red Wheel, of which there has been quite a bit. Things should be done, he insists, in a *civilized* way. Even so, it's a miracle that he's still alive. His long friendship with the Governor no doubt plays a part in this.
Captain Clagoff was the captain of a trading ship, up until the day he got his legs bitten off by a shark. He was ashore when it happened; this was a very...determined shark. These days, he rides about on a Tenser's Disk cast by one of his servants, and has made a fortune importing beasts for the Ethical Circus. He's not in the least discriminating about where he gets his animals, or how.
Clagoff has written a number of truly horrible plays, under a pseudonym. These have proven inexplicably popular -- The Milk-maid's Tragedie, and What Came After has actually been performed even under those Magistrates who haven't declared the Circus illegal.
Thrice-a-Day is an Eladrin clockmaker. He gets his name from an old Eladrin saying, 'even a broken clock is right thrice a day'. He actually crafts a variety of intricate curiosities in the shop he both lives and works in just off Five Fathoms Market, but it's his timepieces which are most readily identifiable.
In the small yard behind the shop, Thrice-a-Day is building his masterpiece; a Fae Clock Tower. Seen from the street, it resembles an ornate grandfather clock that just peeks over the wall around the yard. When looking out the shop's back door, however, the Clock Tower looms up 10 stories or more, at an impossible angle, seeming far larger than the space it's crammed in to.
Thrice-a-Day is always in need of some odd part or ingredient for the elaborate Ritual that is the construction of the Clock Tower. He's sure he'll finish it one day, and from that glorious day onward, his Clock will 'tell time'. People assume he means it'll tell Time 'what to do' or 'how quickly to run', rather than in the conventional sense.
A professor at the University, Wulfram Fritz, has recently become interested, if not obsessed, with the impractical clocks Twice-a-Day makes. He's convinced that they all show the correct time. A fact which has disastrous, though unnamed, consequences for the Middling Lands.
The Old Man of Mole's Hill is the sovereign lord of a landfill in one of the more disreputable parts of the Port. An angel who wandered in from the Interior some years ago, and more than half-mad, he crouches atop a mound of earth, screeching out threatening prophecies to those who pass by. Generally gibberish or trivial nonsense ("Three years from today, at the stroke of noon, you shall stub your toe and your wine-goblet shall be spilt! Your tunic shall be ruined, and you will remember my words and grow wroth!"), but every once in great while he lets something significant slip. Since he has an angel's perception of time, he occasionally reveals truths from people's past. Perhaps this is why Medallion won't get within 5 blocks of him.
He looks like a filthy old man, but every time he opens his mouth a brilliant white radiance escapes. Tieflings find the touch of this light upon their skin to be quite extraordinarily painful.
Gladmarrow is very tall, wears a top hat, and is usually covered in sharp bony spines. He has something to do with the Petitioner's Hall, but exactly what is hard to say; member, boss, object of worship? He's unfailingly polite. Gladmarrow is said to eat human bones and is often seen in the company of a very dangerous man who goes by the name of Gentle.
Mr. Kloot, a ghoul, is in the business of corpse disposal for those in need of such a service. Nattily dressed, very well spoken, covers the reek of carrion with fine cologne. He gives whistles of carved bone to those who contract with him; blowing these whistles will call any ghouls within range to partake of their new meal.
It's an entirely legitimate business, although the Dead are none too fond of Kloot and his enterprise. There have been some nasty scuffles, both here and on the Other Side. Ghouls, naturally, can move between this world and the next with practiced ease.
An interesting fact: ghouls paralyze victims with fear, by grabbing their heads and forcing them to look into the ghoul's eyes, which contain a glimpses of the Other Side.
Medallion just might be a man, though port odds-makers give better than even money that 'he' is actually some kind of animating force that resides in the medallion he always wears around his neck. Either way, he basically owns the nicest part of town, including his fabulous estate on Memorandum Hill, which is said to contain pieces of the World Before.
Lord Bum is the port's "King of Beggars". He lives, when he can afford to, at a dockside flophouse in the Stagger called Bumcastle, in honor of him. He dresses in a mocking patchwork of "castoff" finery that suggests both a quick wit and more than a passing acquaintance with the criminal underworld. It's said he almost has as many eyes and ears on the streets as the Governor.
When asked his full name he usually gives it as "Arsely Bottom", or "Arsely Keister-Bottom". His "court" of homeless men and women can usually found meeting, or at least sleeping one off, on the benches of a park near the flophouse. They are known as the Unseemly Court.
Sidney Distaff is president of the Driftglass Society, an advocacy group for the goblin minority that seeks to improve the lot of all those unfortunate enough to be changed by the touch of the Aster Sea.
Eustace Mar is the Lord High Oceanographer of the Oceanographic Guild. His nickname, primarily among those who don't respect him, is 'Hydrocephalus'.
Meridian Cantor is the Cartographer-General of the Geographic Society.
Shem and Shaun are goblin tale-spinners and bards. They are compiling the complete, definitive, and wholly incomprehensible history of the port.
Quote from: MonikerI can attest that your campaign post over at ENWORLD has single-handedly inspired me to adopt/hybridize some of your ideas into my own campaign.
Great. I'd love to hear what you do with this stuff. Hopefully you'll take it in diametrically opposite directions from the ones I (really we) will.
Pirates, Criminals, Sailors, and Aeronauts:
The Crimson Orb is a beholder pirate. He wears a patch over his central eye because his gaze is like "a spiteful blast from one of Hell's own cannons". He is not only captain of his ship, The Ocular Bastard, but also its chief armament. The Orb only removes the patch in battle, where he's raised above the mast on a covered platform so he can fire upon all comers, or he's lashed to the prow as if he were his own baleful masthead, shooting deadly rays as a prelude to ramming.
He is also known as the "Mad Eye of the Aster".
Short Paul captains the Memento Mori, and his story, which his entire crew shares, is a sad one...
For a time in the port it was in vogue to use magic to reanimate the corpse of your recently deceased child, in lieu of preserving their image using more conventional means such as portraiture or photography. The children looked as they once did, if more pale, and had the personalities and memories that they did in life, but they were still very much Dead. And un-aging. They got to watch their loved one grow old and die, while they continued to endure. Forever. It made them bitter, and twisted, and they found that only those like themselves could really understand.
About 100 years ago, they quietly boarded a ship in the dead of night, slaughtered the crew, and set sail in what was now The Memento Mori. They've done well for themselves. They're small, but much stronger and more experienced than they appear....
Captain Roux is the master of the Shifting Rose, a trireme that plies the seas near the Port. His crew is composed entirely of skin-changers and shape-shifters, all of whom have been somehow recovered from the sea over the years. It's been a matter of luck each time, as the Rose happens to be in the right place to find the were-rat who was thrown overboard, or the doppleganger who was the sole survivor of a shipwreck.
Roux claims that a goddess lives in his cabin. It is She who guides him to his crewmen and She who keeps the ship afloat upon the Aster when the Rose ventures that far from the Port. There is, he says, a connection between the ever-changing ocean and those who can change their own shape, and since She is a goddess of the sea, well...she protects her own. The goddess is named Luna and her domain is the Sea of the Moon, which she keeps inside herself.
Captain Roux has the rest of the crew blindfolded when the Rose sails upon her waters, so as to keep Her secrets. To outside observers, it seems the Rose simply vanishes when she enters the Sea of the Moon, only to reappear somewhere else upon the Aster to prey on unsuspecting ship.
Roux's secret is that he is a learned man, and he suspects there is some connection between the sea inside his goddess and the Interior.
The Deacon of Crook Street is the crime boss who runs the Stagger. He's in love with the adventuress Ingénue Santos and wants her for his bride. People assume this is so he can use her airship for piracy, particularly to rob the Gog-Magog Line, though this may not be the case.
The Deacon gets his nickname from the Stolen God, who is rumored to be stashed in a basement somewhere in the Stagger, or lashed to a barge hidden off the coast. Some folks assume the Deacon has unresolved verb-tense issues, that he means the God of Stealing, for whom he's a deacon. This is, of course, untrue. The Deacon stole a god. From where and from whom is a matter of intense speculation among criminals and theologians.
It's entirely possible that the Deacon is looking to sell the god. Again, to whom is a matter of some speculation. Perhaps he's interested in Ingénue Santos because of her proposed expedition deep into the Interior.
Onomatopoeia is an assassin. He is said to be a demon, completely invisible, and made entirely out of sounds; it's said he has a taste for both blood and music. Despite being fantastically dangerous, he is frequently sought out, not only by potential clients, but by a strange mix of killers and musicians. The killers believe there is no finer tutor in the arts of stealth and murder. Likewise, the musicians believe him to be the greatest vocal coach alive -- if he is alive in the conventional sense. Singers want the secret of his songs, which can sound like anything, anything you can put a name to.
These killers and musicians come from all across the Middling Lands, and even Across-the-Sea.
Jack Famish is a common thief, a second-story man, albeit a good one. He's nicknamed 'Two-Fingers Jack', for they say he can squeeze through a space no wider than two fingers. He is rather'¦ trim. Some say he's a doppelganger while others hold that he's merely under a witch's curse.
Dagobert Hax is the captain of Dancing Pig, and one of the chief providers of exotic beasts for the Ethical Circus. He employs a motley collection of hunters and ruffians to the dirty work for him, and keeps the beasts in elaborate (and magically augmented) cages within the hold. He was once Captain Claggoff's first mate and the two remain very good friends even now.
Lukas Castlemourne is the dwarven captain of The Sonata. The ship has been fitted with vast numbers of intricately carved devices which produce music of disturbing beauty when she is under sail. Castlemourne claims that the music acts to protect this ship while it sails the Aster, and to his credit nothing has yet succeeded in devouring the Sonata. He makes a point of hiring the deaf whenever possible, and has devised a simple system of hand signals to communicate with those members of his crew. He generally acts as a merchantman, but he has been known to transport passengers in relative comfort. Lucas is well thought-of by his peers, but few can stand his company for long -- he tends to go on and on about minutia of acoustic theory, regardless of his listeners' obvious lack of interest. Lukas Castlemorne is a said to be in possession of a flight of trained harpies and a pair of unusually efficacious earplugs.
David Ben-Benjamin is a fisherman, whose Woefully Adequate rarely strays far from the Port. David has witnessed far too many shipwrecks over the years; if a ship gets consumed by a sea-serpent, founders upon a hidden reef, or gets taken by pirates within sight of the Port...chances are that the Woefully Adequate and her small crew will be there to see it. Sailors despise David, seeing him as the worst kind of bad luck, but he's pulled too many of them from the sea over the years to suffer more than glares or the occasional spittle. Even so, he avoids the docks at night.
Agatha Tripe captains another merchantman, the Red Rabbit. Agatha takes great pride in the Rabbit's speed; she's made a goodly bit of extra income in races with her rivals. She's not above smuggling, either -- although it takes some work to find anything that's strictly illegal to bring into the Port, some of the neighboring cities and towns are more...fastidious. She is a worshipper of the Dog, and makes a point of bringing it a gift (usually, appropriately, of tripe) before setting forth on a voyage.
Saul Invictus is the Grand Admiral of the Armada. He is nearing 60 years, bald as an egg yet fit as a man half his age. He is stern, given to drink, and known for making any necessary sacrifice, so long it involves others. He hasn't taken his flagship, the Delicate Needle of Inquisitive Purpose out into the deep waters of the Aster in nearly twenty years, even though it is a rebuilt Black Ship, made out of hell-forged obsidian from the Infernal Isles. Nowadays he rarely sails it out of the port.
This wasn't always the case. It was a young and fearless Captain Invictus who discovered the wreckage of a Black Ship, cut evenly in two as if by some titanic butcher, on some nameless island in the Aster Sea. It was he who towed it back to the port, found engineers and occultists of sufficient skill to make her whole once more, and was subsequently made admiral of the Armada for it, claiming the black glass vessel as his flagship.
During the Needle's maiden voyage, far out on the Aster, Admiral Invictus met that titanic butcher who originally split his ship in two. It was the God or the Devil of that star-tossed sea that men call the Kraken.
Let's just say the Delicate Needle of Inquisitive Purpose acquitted herself slightly better that time around. Saul Invictus managed to flee, with only half his crew maimed or killed. To this day he won't brave the deep sea, for fear of meeting the Kraken again.
Ishmael Flyte once was promising young officer in the staff of Admiral Invictus, serving aboard the Needle. Fortunately, he survived the Kraken's attack. Unfortunately, he was maimed. Unlike the Admiral, he swore revenge. Flyte was eventually drummed out of the navy for 'obsession and madness', but nevertheless managed to both become an accomplished aeronaut and, later, a father.
Flyte now hunts the Kraken from the skies, a pursuit which has earned him the nickname 'the Man Who Wages War With the Sea', since the sea is, to this day, the only thing he's scored a reliable hit upon.
Arachnae Flyte is Ishmael's grown daughter. She is the 2nd woman to become an aeronaut, behind Ingenue Santos, and, like her father, has a host of serious personal issues. She is known as the Black Widow of the Air.
Honorata "Ingénue" Santos is widely considered the most beautiful woman in port. She is also the first woman aeronaut, captain of the Starry Night. Her nicknames are the "Heartbreaking Angel of the Skies" and simply, the "Heartbreak Angel".
Honorata was born in the town of Ingénue in the Clutch, near the shores of the Aster Sea. She was a dreamy, doe-eyed girl from a town full of dreamy, like-eyed girls until tragedy befell her, something she never speaks of. Now she breaks hearts and other, more durable things --she's become an adventuress, you see '" all across the Middling Lands.
She claims she will lead the first successful aerial expedition into the Interior to find the source of the Ossuary Flow.
Abimelech Aquilla-Fubar is a dragonborn air-pirate. He wears a pair of clockwork wings which are utterly useless for flight, but make devastating melee weapons as they flail about at anyone who approaches him. He wants desperately to achieve apotheosis and transform fully into a dragon, but each time he enters the Interior he finds himself leaving it months later with a new set of scars and no memory of his experiences. More than half-mad at this point, he's kidnapped the renowned wizardess Miss Dare to act his guide into the Interior, using maps which he stole from the Dragon Library. His ship, the Prurient Disinterest, sailed into the Interior some months back and has yet to return.
QuoteIshmael Flyte once was promising young officer in the staff of Admiral Invictus, serving aboard the Needle. Fortunately, he survived the Kraken's attack. Unfortunately, he was maimed. Unlike the Admiral, he swore revenge. Flyte was eventually drummed out of the navy for 'obsession and madness', but nevertheless managed to both become an accomplished aeronaut and, later, a father.
Flyte now hunts the Kraken from the skies, a pursuit which has earned him the nickname 'the Man Who Wages War With the Sea', since the sea is, to this day, the only thing he's scored a reliable hit upon.
A very interesting adaptation
The Magistrates of the Port:
Lord Thomas Winterborn is an Eladrin nobleman who follows the Fae legal system, which is either insanely complicated or entirely random. Those who come before him are questioned closely on such arcane as their birthday, their favorite color, whether or not they were wearing a hat at the time of the incident in question, and if so precisely how wide its brim was....
His Bailiffs are also Eladrin, and rumored to be his brothers. They wear full helmets, entirely devoid of features, which give them a very ominous appearance. No few of them are warlocks.
Stefan Petard is a former Naval Artilleryman 1st Class, a rank which is entirely literal in the Port's Navy. A wizard of some power, he was made a magistrate after he did a favor of some sort for the Governor. The details of this have never been revealed, and likely never will be. Petard has turned out to be a surprisingly reasonable Magistrate '" he bases most of his rulings on a simplified form of Old Imperium Goetia law -- saving perhaps his habit of personally executing --in a very explosive manner-- anyone that he condemns to death. His bailiffs are, like himself, veterans of naval service. Their only uniform is a red and black strip of cloth worn on their right arm, intricately knotted.
Henry Scatter was born into a wealthy family, which promptly disowned him after an ill-fated fishing trip on the Aster left him twisted into the shape of a goblin. How exactly he became a Magistrate is a hotly debated mystery, but it's generally assumed that blackmail of some sort was involved.
Scatter makes no pretense at objectivity; any case that involves a goblin will be declared in his favor, no matter what the actual circumstances. His bailiffs are mostly Bugbears, with a handful of ogres, and it's not unknown for them to beat people nearly to death for failing to give them the proper respect. It's unlikely that Scatter will survive much longer, as he's already been the subject of several assassination attempts.
Lord Bartholomew Choke sometimes prefers to be called Dr. Choke, or Lord Doctor Choke, as he is the port's self-appointed Minister of Health. He rarely makes his preferences known, however, and his temper is on the short side of mercurial. The good doctor is a man, barely; just shy of 8ft tall and more than 500 lbs. Rumor has it he afflicted himself with gigantism during an experiment trial of curative elixirs. It is said he must regularly endure a ghastly kind of 'pruning' to keep himself even remotely man-sized. It's also said that as his body grows larger, his conscience and his ability to feel for the smaller creatures grows proportionally less.
Lord Choke is an indifferent public servant, except during outbreaks of plague.
Lord Myles Lively and Lady Lively are a rarity; a pair of married Magistrates. Lord Lively is a famous bon vivant and Lady Lively is known for her charitable activities. He is often described as having a '˜delicate cast to his face' and she as '˜having large hands'. They are never seen together at the same time and it's entirely likely that they are the same person.
Lord Lively is also reputed to be the head of the port's number one pleasure syndicate, the so-called Guild of Revelry.
Lord Dandy is rather unusual for an Elf; he is far from flighty, he disdains wine and song, in fact, he seems altogether unnerved by, even frightened of, the pleasures of the flesh. While he does have impeccable style and the appearance of a fop, he is better known as the port's foremost authority on botany (his love of flora is perhaps the only truly Elven trait), and for his seven, beautiful, unmarried daughters.
Despite his daughters, Lord Dandy is long-rumored to be asexual. Of his wife little is known, or even said. Dandy claims to have met her on a botanical expedition into the Interior, though none on the trip recall his leaving the Interior with the bride-to-be. Just wagon and wagon of floral samples, some quite massive. According to Lord Dandy his wife is his '˜unique flower', and, as he puts it, '˜an all-consuming woman'. Supposedly she never leaves his manse, spending most of her time in its enormous glass hothouse. However, his daughters are often about town. By name they are; Dahlia, Iris, Violet, Lily, Primrose, Hyacinth, and Larkspur.
They are highly sought after, being pretty and always intoxicatingly scented, thought their eyes are disconcertingly empty. None have married, though they've gone through quite a number of suitors each. Apparently the experience is so heart-breaking the men leave the port immediately after and are never heard from again.
Also, there exists a certain rivalry between Lords Lively and Dandy.
Tom Hollow is a half-elf. He's gregarious and informal; he's prefers to go by his first name, even during official business. People say of Tom what they say of all his kind; that there's a hollow space in his chest where half of a man and half of an elf should go. That he's doomed to spend his whole life wanting.
Billy Twist is the same as he always was; a big black man who likes to be carried around on a surprisingly tasteful divan. Both former slave and slaver in the Snake States, he's now a man of the people.
The Lord Moribund is a title given to the Magistrate whose sole jurisdiction is the Hereafter, though '˜sole' in this case is misleading, seeing as, thanks to some spectacularly badly worded legislation, his jurisdiction actually extends beyond the mortal world to encompass the whole of the Other Side.
Sebastian Androgore is a Tiefling Magistrate. The story of his life is best described as 'pending'
Balthazar Lux is a Dragonborn Magistrate. One day he'll have a backstory worthy of his name.
Another absolutely brilliant setting - I love this stuff. You really should read some more of Terry Pratchett's Discworld - I suggest the Death series, which is Mort, Reaper Man, Soul Music, Hogfather, and Thief of Time in that order. I keep laughing at things here and there in this setting, probably because of the seemingly laid-back sarcasm inherent in the writing, and it reminds me a lot of Pratchett in a good way, especially the lists of notable people.
Also, Onomatopoeia - do you or anyone else in your group read Green Arrow?
Quote from: IshmaylA very interesting adaptation
I like stealing things, blending them together, casting them in different contexts, then topping it off with a bit of wordplay.
Creative process-wise, Ishmael began as with the phrase/title 'the man who fell from grace with sea' bouncing around me head, probably because it fits the mood of the port setting. This quickly became 'the man who waged war with the sea', complete with the image of a flying ship emptying its cannons into roiling waves. Which led to Moby Dick being converted into the Kraken, Ahab being converted into Ishmael, and given the family name from the character in Brideshead Revisited, because 1) I had just read a review of the new film, and 2) "Flyte" made a wonderfully obvious pun.
Quote from: JokerYou really should read some more of Terry Pratchett's Discworld - I suggest the Death series, which is Mort, Reaper Man, Soul Music, Hogfather, and Thief of Time in that order.
I will. I have new impetus now that one of the PC's in the first port campaign is named Captain Artichoke ("Captain" being his Christian name and not his rank). I've been told that any resemblance between this guy and a certain Captain Carrot are strictly intentional.
Quote from: JokerI keep laughing at things here and there in this setting, probably because of the seemingly laid-back sarcasm inherent in the writing, and it reminds me a lot of Pratchett in a good way, especially the lists of notable people.
The tone is meant to keep other people reading it (and us writing it). It's supposed to be fun (and I'm glad you agree).
Quote from: JokerAlso, Onomatopoeia - do you or anyone else in your group read Green Arrow?
Not me. The only DC I've read lately was All-Star Superman (I heart Grant Morrison).
Quote from: MallusQuote from: JokerYou really should read some more of Terry Pratchett's Discworld - I suggest the Death series, which is Mort, Reaper Man, Soul Music, Hogfather, and Thief of Time in that order.
I will. I have new impetus now that one of the PC's in the first port campaign is named Captain Artichoke ("Captain" being his Christian name and not his rank). I've been told that any resemblance between this guy and a certain Captain Carrot are strictly intentional.
Quote from: JokerI keep laughing at things here and there in this setting, probably because of the seemingly laid-back sarcasm inherent in the writing, and it reminds me a lot of Pratchett in a good way, especially the lists of notable people.
The tone is meant to keep other people reading it (and us writing it). It's supposed to be fun (and I'm glad you agree).
Quote from: JokerAlso, Onomatopoeia - do you or anyone else in your group read Green Arrow?
Not me. The only DC I've read lately was All-Star Superman (I heart Grant Morrison).
Ah. I've read a few different things now... All-Star Batman & Robin, The Long Halloween, Hush 1/2, The Dark Knight Returns, etc... but I am reminded of a enemy of Green Arrow's, a strange assassin fellow who mimics noises.
I love your revisions of the halfings and shadar-kai, absolutely genius stuff. Great characters too, especially Count Orquiel, the Crimson Orb, Kloot, Shem & Shaun, and Gladmarrow! Your ship naming, by the way, reminds me greatly of the Cutlure novels' ship-names (Iain M. Banks) - have you read them? In either case the names are quite brilliant.