A pile of broken truths
Random entry from the Encyclopaedia Telrhinica:
Adenai
Khitagani port, gateway to the East Isles.
The cities and coasts of the Valek are all unified by the sea. You could say that everything around the Valek faces inward, and the sea is the focus of everything: trade, food, wealth, power, and war. The roonhands of the Valek are tied to this global world, influenced by the cultures of a hundred ports, speaking the same slang creole as the sailors: called Planker, it's a mix of Thurne, Tagani and Korul.
When you step into the Veil you enter a landscape of vague reality that exists between several places. More formally this is called the Umbra. It's most heavily influenced by the Spirit World, but it also touches on dreams and the edges of the Second World. It's a place without a cohesive geography and home to a long list of creatures: spirits and monsters and a few lost travelers. The short of it is, you're lost without a guide.
The Gods Want You to Die (and other fun facts): in the end, every god wants you to die. They may promise health or safety, love or happiness, but what matters is your faith in them. That devotion binds your spirit to them and helps deliver your glow. It's ravenous and desperate and it drives the gods more than anything else. Without it they wither and die.
A few thoughts on a recent one-off adventure. It was a tomb in the Lowlands in a place called the Valley of the Drowned Kings.
The adventure was meant to be easy. It was a classic "go explore the dungeon" setup for some friends, two of them new to the whole Dungeons & Dragons thing. It was set in the Lowlands, the main gateway region of the world that's easy to grasp and step into. All standard fantasy fare.
I decided to jump start the story at a campsite a half day from the tomb. They had a map. They had an NPC guide.
Called The Hackle by regulars, it's home to some neighborhood locals, a few third-tier adventurers and the occasional secret encounter. Maisy Ron has plenty of hard liquor but for beer she only serves two things: Mother's Black, a strong and heavy stout, or "Piss Ale" for anyone who doesn't like the stout.
"...in the soft hum of people’s sleeping minds I’ll tell you more. I’ll tell you about the Nine Rulers of the Seven States, the Lost City, the Darig Kingdoms, and the forgotten past of the Venthi people. Because here in Brok Nine every dream has found its way, and with it every secret and every truth."
This is from the work I was doing on a second edition of Maelstrom Storytelling for Hubris Games back in 2006. I think it was Chapter Three with a note to call it "At the Storm's Edge".
The Pox Crain is a bar in the dusty streets of Dryer Mob. Steps lead down to the relative cool of a low vaulted cellar near the Ivory Souk in Southwarren. It smells of hookahs, fish oil from the small kitchen, and cabbage. Sounds of the souk drift in from the street above and mix with the conversations of old men playing tiles, washer women in the alley behind, and the talk of travelers, traders, and the occasional drunk.
To most people, that's all there is. But to some, the Pox Crain is a vexing series of half-seen pathways into the Veil, full of whispers and echoes of dreams, spirits and the dead.
Serpent Earth coiled herself to sleep after the Long Night in which all things came to be. The black sun Syr grew ever larger until it threatened to overcome the gold sun Hael. In time they struggled, as Serpent Earth slept on.
If there were such a thing as archaeologists they'd find remnants of forgotten gods as well as different interpretations of the current ones. There's Bachnel, the brother of Gahl who was god of night and dreams, and the Goat God of the Grasslands called Puknet. There are ancient Rayikian texts with references to Borgia goddess of seizures and possession. There are whole religions that are lost, like the Sanctum of the Four Winds.
Wolves, bears, garden-looting rabbits: real problems for medieval villagers. They also had bandits, plagues, and feudal wars. Add in some griffons, goblins, ghosts, dire wolves, and a few heartless fairies and you wonder how normal people get through a single day in a fantasy world.
How do things work in a world with magic? In games we tend to talk about monsters in the wild, in tombs, in dungeons. What about the villages? These tiny outposts of civilization have to have some way of surviving.
These are some thoughts on how it all can work, making better sense for a world while adding layers of story, and even a few adventure hooks.
