[Empire2!] A Traveller's Guide to Arandi

[BootStrapTommy]

A Traveller's Guide to Arandi
A Personal Account of the Travels of Baird the Bard
Translated from the Nihoni Tongue into the Trade Language of Luska by the Viceroy himself, Baird Llywarch

Growing up in Carriag Dún, the sheer size of the Undercity is not something that seems all that out of the ordinary. After all, if all you've ever known is the Undercity, why would you know any different? I believe that this is in part because the sheer size of the Undercity is not easy to grasp when one is right in the middle of it. The Undercity is comprised largely of separate modules called wards, each a separate cave or cavern with their own unique local names that in themselves might not seems too big. I grew up deep in the lower levels, in the Tuathánach fishing community of Loch Affwysol, where my mother plied her trade for the weary Tuathánach fisherman. But it is the sheer contiguous collection of many such caverns that lends itself to the Undercity's claim as the largest city in all of the Arandi. With over nine hundred thousand residents, it is easy to understand how many surfacers might not be capable of grasping the sheer size of Arandi's largest city.

The Ward of Loch Affwysol, a fishing community which served to feed the poor Thaeog miners of the Mithril Ward below, was simply a small, close-knit community on the edge of the city, far from the bustle of the city's enormous center. The central city, however, is a bustling metropolis. The Gwneuthurwyr Ward, to the northwest and under the city center, is what could only be described as a enormous factory, the site of numerous workshops and industries as well as Grefftwr guildhouses. Gwneuthurwyr Ward is a strange place, as the fols fire there glows red and the air seems to be thick with a smog created by the works of many of the region's craftsmen. The Ward of Llyn Digoned, to the west of the city center, is among the most fertile wards in the Undercity, home of one of the largest hot spring lakes in the region. Not ones to waste space, even the rooftops of the rock carved Tuathánach homes of Llyn Digoned are covered in their ample mushroom crops, while the deep lake is teeming with an seemingly inexhaustible supply of cavefish. A lot of the region's power, however, rests up and to the north of the city center in the guild halls of Ffeiriau Ward, where the Marchnadwr do much of their foreign business. A cavernous expanse filled with stylized buildings and power banks, it is one of the most affluent areas of the Undercity, host to many members of the Council.

But no single chamber of the Undercity compares to the grandeur of the city center, the ward known simply as the Citadel. The massive cavern which makes up the city's central market and municipal district is a behemoth, nearly four chain in heights at it's highest point and nearly two candles in length. The cultural center of Carriag Dún, it hosts the Central Bazaar, the Halls of the Paragons, and the epitomous Citadel, a massive stalagnate reaching from the floor to ceiling which houses the headquarters of the Council Chambers, the Exarch's Manor, and the Fortress of the Grey Company. The very walls of the cavern are alive with the home of Nihoni subjects, while prominent members of the Tuathánach grow hanging gardens of brilliantly glowing fungi that illuminate the region. It is a bewildering sight to outsiders, filled with the brilliance of Grefftwr architecture and a realm of immense beauty.

And it was in such a city that I may have lived my whole life, ignorant of the sun, ignorant of the largest world outside. But I made their mistake of seducing the wife of particularly violent Nihonwyr. Were I not saved from death at his hands by one of his superiors, I may never had let. Lucky for you, dear reader, such events came to pass, and a young, naive Thaeog arrived on the surface in search of a new life.

So it was this that I left the great Runed Gates of Carraig Dún. Here in lies the tales of my travels.

Spoiler: OoC: Things relavant to my fellow players

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In case you were unaware, a chain is 50 feet and a candle is 10,000 feet. Making the Citadel about 200 feet tall and almost 4 miles long. Thank lt_murgen for those in-game units.

The way I want this to work is to give each of you the chance to write up your own regions as you wish for inclusion in the guide. The Carriag Dún entry, as well as Baird's introduction during the Science Faire, should serve as a reference to his personality and nature, as well as what kind of trouble or antics he may cause in your regions. Think of him as a foppish, swashbuckling bard, who, while he knows how to fight, prefers to talk. And drink. And sample the local fairs. Have fun, I look forward to reading your entries! I'll post more of mine in the future.

[BladeofObliviom]

The Pasuk - A folktale of the Wormwood

"I speak of the spirit with sunken eyes and flesh of steel, that strip of sight its only fault! I speak of the spirit whose gaze brings malady and stillbirth to the displeasing, the Hag's Knights who cannot be known without the witch's sight! I speak of the Pasuk, the yellow-eyed demon who hides under that hairy-legged mask, and siezes the man's soul who dares to touch its Arand form! I know this because I have seen it, the terrible tarantula that shrouds the Hag's Champion itself! I looked upon it as witch's sight took hold, and before my eyes I saw the steel flesh of the thing, yellow eyes gazing unto me! I screamed, raved, tried to warn the guard to run, and he laughed, laughed! Told me he'd squash the scary spider, and then as his foot fell it swallowed him alive! His reassurances came from the demon's mouth, hidden under its metal hide! And the man returned to his post as if he were not some evil thing. I have never known such fear before then, but oh, the fever! You cannot know what it felt like, cursed by that cruel spirit, but I remembered what the wise woman told me, that those yellow eyes were its weakness and its strength, oh yes! Fever-mad, I hatched a plan, a most clever plan. I returned to the place, Witch's sight gone, and saw the guard there, yes, but I could see the writhing of the tarantula under his flesh and I knew that the Pasuk held him fast! I drank the sweet drink once more, and looked upon the Pasuk's true form. Oh, how I feared it, and trembled as I tried not to let it show! But those eyes, for all their terrifying depth, did not know what I planned! The sparking rod, the stick filled with light and sound, yes! The eyes were so vulnerable, it hadn't expected my attack, and the anointed fire plunged in, yes, yes! Its evil form dissipated, leaving only its hollow steel shell, joy of joys! The rest you have seen yourself! The guards disposed of the shell and dragged me here, can't you see? That's where we lie now, and I speak of the scene upon us!"

The guard looked upon the raving native man, pity and disgust in his eyes. "Those damned Wormwood superstitions got you to murder a lawman, scum." He spit upon the writhing slave, seemingly confused about its bonds and trying to gesture vigorously. "You natives need to learn your place." The guard struck the storyteller and then swung three more times, club stained with blood by the end of it. "That pain? That means you're still alive. You'll be begging for that to change by the time we're done with you. Killing a lawman earns worse than death; you'll be an example." He spit upon the battered native man again, kicking him a final time in the gut before sneering and leaving the cell.

And as he looked up, dazed by the beating, the man coughed as he watched the armored man with the yellow eyes lock the door.