Carthagos, Jewel of Naxas

Population: 800,000
Government: The Assembly, the Council of the Wise
Military: Polemarch Archaeus Neledos
Law: Archon of the Court Olymfa Philaidos

THE CITY GOVERNMENT
The city is ruled by the Council of the Wise, which oversees the Library Assembly. The Assembly acts as a deliberative body and the Council as an executive one. Beneath these two organizations stand the Archons and the Polemarch.

The Polemarch, Archaeus Neledos, is in command of the city defenses and all necessary preparations for war. Technically Archaeus is also in charge of the Carthagan fleet, but practically this job falls under the Council of the Wise and the Archon of the Market.

The Archons have the following tasks:

The Archon of the Market, Philemon Execedos, is tasked with maintaining order in the Agora, enforcing the trade laws, and keeping the trade routes to Carthagos and Naxas open. In this capacity, the Archon of the Market has broad authority to issue detentions, command the Carthagan fleet, and serve as the head of the Sworn of Carthagos Agorikon.

The Archon of the Court, Olymfia Philaidos, is the chief magistrate of the city. She oversees the court system and prepares court trials. All lawsuits are handled by means of court trial.

The Archon of the Temples, Taireseus Philaidos, is the head priest of Carthagos. This is an official position, not a mystical one. He arranges the sacrifices in each temple, ensures there are sufficient burnt offerings, and interprets the will of the gods before the Assembly. He also commands the ranks of the Sworn of Carthagos Naulikon.

The Council of the Wise is composed of Wise dating back 150-200 years to the death of Phantigor of Carthagos and the establishment of the Library. Although each could easily have founded their own powerful lineage, the Councilors have instead foresworn heirs and rule Carthagos through its library. These men and women are Nessos, Orpheos, Polikrates, Pythagoras, Antikos, Melite, Hypatia, Aspasia, and Nikarete.

THE EUPATRIDAE
There are five major lineages in Carthagos and countless minor ones. The five larges and most important are the Alchmaeonidae, the Execedai, the Megacloi, Neledes, and the Philaidae.

The Gates of Carthagos
Carthagos boasts six gates. Clockwise from the north, they are the Eliagic Gate leading to Elia and its olive groves, the Diogene Gate, leading to Diogares and its stone quarries, the Piraeon Gate and Port Gates, both leading down to the port of Piraeos, the Nekropolis Gate, which leads directly to the Nekropolitan Hill, and the Diplyon Gate, leading to the town of Diplyon.

These gates make the line of the five main streets of Carthagos, which each run toward the Agora.

GEOGRAPHY
The city of Carthagos is the chief city of Naxas and rules the other minor cities on that island. It sits in a commanding height in the valley of Koilos at the head of the Bay of Limnos.

The Acraeus is the tallest hill in Koilos. Once the site of the Temple of Nyx, it was then converted to the shrine of Lysos Acraeus. It was joined by the Palace of Phantigor, which was converted to the Temple of Bel-Amon when that Divinity descended on the city with his winged helm. Atop the old Acraen Temple there now stands the Great Library of Carthagos. Together with the Temple of Bel-Amon these two monuments can be seen for cords and cords in all directions. Even out at sea, the first that a ship can see of the city is the statue of Bel-Amon atop his Acraen temple.

Carthagos stands between the rivers Eridamnon and Menandrion, both of which provide water to the city. The Eridamnon was dammed (legendarily by Bel-Amon, but potentially by the first Lawgiver, Ptolos) and redirected beneath the city walls to provide water pressure, public fountains, and sewer drainage to the city.

The city proper is girdled by a white wall said to have been originally built by the Old Gods in the days when this was a fortress of Nyx. They are impervious to magical assault and wide enough across to mount onagers and other siege machinery. They follow the line of the nearest hills.

A flat black volcanic rock stands near the Acraeus, just to east. This is the Cyclon Stone, sacred to Nyx. It is also where public festivals that require the expenditure of holy myrrh take place. A depression in the heart of the stone is said to be a bowl carved by Nyx to spill the smoking blood of her children.

DISTRICTS AND LOCATIONS
CRAFTSMAN'S DISTRICT
The craftsman's district is somewhat tighter and more compact than the rest of the city. The buildings are smaller here, and the alleyways that run between them are often unpaved. The Street of Forges is the largest road within the district not counting the main Nekropolitan Way. All smelting activities in the city are required to place at the City Smelters on the Street of Forges.

Perakletes Ironjaw. This smith is famous throughout the city for forging bronze. He is a master weapon smith, and Carthagan bronze blades, spears, and polearms that come from Perakletes' shop are well-known throughout the Circle Sea. He is a gruff, middle-aged, black-haired, man who lost three of his teeth in the last Khian War and thus has a deep hatred for people of that race. He earned his name from his thick and brooding jawline.

Prices at Perakletes are usually half again as much as the open agora, but Perakletan weapons of bronze crit on a 19 and a 20.

Lysa the Shieldworker. Lysa makes shields from yew, bronzewood, and ash. She uses bronze to plate them, and her workshop (which employs twenty slaves) produces the distinctive hoplon of Carthagos. Her painters are always working to paint Carthagan blue and silver on armor.

MARKET DISTRICT

THE ACRAEUS

DYONIC DISTRICT

CYCLON DISTRICT

FOREIGNER'S DISTRICT

Valastainen, the City of Shipwrights

INTRODUCTION

Valastainen (val-ah-STY-nen) is an ancient elvish city situated upon the Lake of Lamps in Tailimisia. It serves as the central hub of the administration of the Murhestinal family and, as of the death of Tywyn Leofrosin in the matter known as the Expulsion of the Night Prince (X.512) of Aita Valmindene, the house has been ruled by the Tywynne Myrialandina, daughter of Leofrosin and strong supporter of the new elvish Queen, the Gwyderia Ilisia the Historian. The city controls all tolls on the southerly branch of the rivers Lyrissen and Idabrell. Though its name translates as "Place of Lamps," in Varan the city is often called Watchway, for its massive lighted tower that guards the mouth of the River Idabrell.

The city is famed for its canals and the closeness of its manors, for the elves of Valastainen built along the canalways to permit ships to reach the very doors of their houses. The city is lit at all hours of the day or night by many thousands of silver lamps, and a longstanding custom has it that every house must take responsibility to light the canals, or pay toward a general fund to lighting the woods about the city. Long ago, enchantments were laid on the forests all about to give light through will-o'-the-wisps that can prove both helpful and jocular.

The entire region surrounding the Lake of Lamps feeds Valastainen, the free elves of the farms bringing their goods by raft to the Mede of the Springmaiden for distribution. The entire region pays homage to Senia, Meri, and Tulia above the worship of Anunia, thanking Senia and Tulia for the fruits of the earth, and Meri for the bounty of the rivers and the lake.

HISTORY

One of the oldest elvish settlements in Tailimisia, it was built around the same time as the first towers were lain in Aita Valmindene. The oldest towers are situated on the small archipelago of islands that dot the Lake of Lamps, which are known as the Seven Sorrows. These seven ruins belonged to powerful elvish families now long extinct, and for centuries have served as magnets for adventurers.

During the War of High Sorcery Valastainen was often used as a staging ground for Harnholme dwarves moving further west. In that age, a compact was made between the then-ruling house of Deepriver and four clans of Blue Dwarves to construct a series of locks and canals to help control the flow of the lake and the river. These same dwarves assisted the elvish high sorcerer Tulimestya in the construction of the fabulous lock-and-canal works at Mount Aurisia, and they still dwell in Valastainen to this day.

Because of its situation on a large, deep, calm lake, Valastainen is the premier location of shipwrights in Tailimisia, and one of the only places within the Greatwood were deep-draft ships can be prepared and launched to the sea. For that purposes, Valastainen magicians, aided by Tulimestya the Waterwright, long ago deepened the Idabrell to permit the transit of ocean-going ships southward from Lake Valoina. This has earned Valastainen the nickname "City of the Shipwrights."

House Murhestinal and the Weeping Palace

House Murhestinal takes its arms (a weeping elf's head with long flowing hair) from the grant of the Weeping Palace to the original Murhestinai in the last age. This ancient stone structure sits at the heart of the city, and is fed and shot through with many private canals. Most of the wings of the Weeping Palace have been abandoned, as the house is not as large as the old Princes of the Lake, but they can be put to good use housing adventurers, levies, and free elf companies arriving from other regions.

The Weeping Palace boasts a large temple to Talifer, the Wounded God, and the elves who patrol the Daleadau under the Gwyderia's orders often set out from the Square of the Wounded Warrior at its gates. Murhestinal can marshal some of the largest and most powerful levies in the central forest.

The Grand Temple of Talifer is the largest of its kind in Tailimisia and one of the largest in the entire elvish culture-zone. It is tended by Curhemelian the Blade, the High Priestess of Talifer, and by a platoon of twenty Stormsword bachelors.

The Central Canals

The most densely populated region of the city is the central section, surrounding the Weeping Palace. Here, there are narrow lanes for foot traffic, but many networks of canals for ships. All mounted and wheeled traffic is forbidden from entering this region of the city, as it would clog the streets. Instead, goods are brought in through ships and barges to each of the grand homes. As a result, only the wealthiest merchants, mages, and elvish nobility in service to the Murhestinal Princess can afford homes here. The Illuminated Ones (the Valoi) also maintain their scriptorium, laboratory, and clave manor in this part of the city.

The Mede of the Springmaiden. This mere or mede is an island all its own, reached by high, slender bridges. It is here that the farmers of the Lake of Lamps come to sell their wares to the city each morning. The outlying towns each have their own days to come and bring their rafts, ensuring that the city receives a continuous supply of goods.

House of Illumination. This manorhouse, located on a side canal, behind hall walls with many tall garrets and glazed windows, is home to the Order of the Valoi, the Illuminated Ones, a powerful clave of central-Tailimisia wizards.

The House of the Silver Tree Guildhall. The House of the Silver Tree maintains its largest, most central, and most opulent guildhall in the central part of the city, opposite the mede of the Springmaiden.

Tuliameren's Arms. This inn is the largest in the city and used by elvish nobility from all over Tailimisia. When elves from the south must journey to Aita Valmindene, many make Tuliameren's Arms one of their stops on the route, for it is famed throughout the Greatwood. The inn is four stories tall, with wide-flung wings, and both owned and operated by Tuliameren Highwater, the elvish adventurer who ran the coffers for three successive adventuring parties, the last and largest being the Company of the Burning Horn, known for its jaunts into Elnuril.

The Great Light

The Tower of the Lamp, which stands at the mouth of the R. Idabrell, dominates this part of the city.

The Glazing Pits. This section of the city is constantly smoking and blazing with heat; here the great elvish furnaces produce glass from the lakesand of the Lake of Lamps. This is the largest single glassworks in Arunia, and Valastainen glass (also called lakeglass) can be found throughout Atva-Arunia.

The Hall of Ashes. Rumor insists that the Ashblade Assassins maintain a large enclave in the city. This semi-mythical foundation is known as the "Hall of Ashes," where death may be had for high prices in gold.

The Shipwright's Canals

This district is the poorest and most ramshackle section of Valastainen. Here are the many ships of elvish beechwood, highwood, and others, imported from across the elvish world, wrought, designed, and made. Sailmakers, rope-makers, weavers, and others live in close confines here to support the work of the shipwrights. Drydocks are all owned by companies of free elves, who whip together and work them; arrangements for construction of a ship must be made with these companies, which are often busy many years in advance.

The Dwarftown

Although the dwarves live all throughout the city, Dwarftown is where the four great clan-halls are located. These are the Irnval, Himril, Thangrin, and Istov clans of blue dwarves. Many dwarf sea-halls, with canals that pass beneath them and through them, entering the very walls of the home to provide hydraulic cooling or access directly to gathering rooms, stand amongst the elvish manors here.

Confluence Rock

INTRODUCTION

Confluence Rock is the seat of King Damios the Old, the seventeenth king of the House of Atreus, and the ruler of Thalasson. This city is the only market in the kingdom permitted to do trade with the outside world, and it sits at the confluence of the Iscoin and Arton Rivers, which both flow out to join the Menander. The great bluffs of Confluence Rock can be seen for rods and rods in any direction, and the royal palace, once the High Agora of the Petroboloi kingdom of Palias, is a wonder of the northern world.

HISTORY

The city has its foundation in the time of Palias, when the Stone Giants of the north were warring with the gigantine renegade, Moros Aklaustros, the Unmourned, and his legions of the deathless. The city was called Vrakous, the Rock, and it was in the walls of the mountains themselves that the giants carved Syntasma, the Council Hall, the great public High Agora of their kingdom. After the fall of Palias, men filtered in from the east, particularly those fleeing the destruction wrought during the great Mage Wars between Imperial Miles and Rho'anir the Shapeless.

For a time, men lived among the ruins of Palias and learned from the stone giants, living as they did in relative peace, all the equal of all, but as the giants died out and their old customs with them, men took the public lands to themselves and certain folk grew powerful, while others were made their dependents. The height of that process occurred with the founding of Confluence Rock. Long an empty ruin, the Syntasma Halls were claimed by the House of Atreus and transformed into a personal residence.

The Atreans established a city there, and soon grew powerful enough to control most of old Palias south of the Menander. Thus began the kingdom of Thalasson.

One of Confluence Rock's most notable features is that it lacks walls, relying instead on the rivers for protection. It has never been laid siege or invaded in its long history.

THE GREAT MARKET

The city lives and dies around the Great Market. This boasts a temple to Fortune that stands on a high flat stone overlooking the rivers and a public court of law on the opposite side where merchants from foreign lands are to be "judged by the law of their people." The market itself is a wide open space the size of many small towns. It is constantly patrolled by Crown Assessors and Bailiffs who report directly to the throne. This marketplace is the sole distribution point for all foreign goods in Thalasson, which must come up the River Menander from Port Eisodos. The larger of the two rivers, the Arton, is filled at all hours with ships loading and unloading goods from abroad. The other river, the Iscoin, teams with elvish traffic from Aita Iscoinos and the slender elvish bridge that crosses it is almost always laden with dwarvish and gigantine foot traffic to the east, where gold is brought down from the Petrochores hills and the last giant-city, Petropolon.

Even the esteemed Pandar's Procurements has a distant outpost here on the Great Market of Confluence Rock.

Though there is no "city guard" per se, the Assessors form a sizable platoon of royal servants, and can implement rough and ready justice if and when a fight breaks out in the Great Market.

THE MERCHANT QUARTER

The city directly around the market, in the space between the two rivers, plays host to a number of inns, taverns, boarding houses, and mercantile ventures that operate under the auspices of King Damios. This is a fairly wealthy section of the city, and boasts some paved streets. Remains of old Gigantine statuary and temples are scattered throughout, including a titanic statue of Solon the Self-Creating which is now used to house the city's Beacon Fire, lit every evening to guide travelers safely behind the rivers.

The Three Pillars. The most famous inn and tavern in the merchant quarter is, bar none, the Three Pillars, built around the shell of three enormous pieces of worked stone left over from the giants. It's run by none other than the ex-adventurer Leonas Drakeslayer, known for hunting firedrakes in the broken highlands on the far side of the Menander.

THE STONE QUARTER

The poorest section of the city is to be found beyond the Merchant's Quarter but before the Royal Quarter. This is a belt of collapsed Stone Giant ruins that have been mined for centuries as a source of royal stone. The throne has a monopoly on reclaiming these ruins, and as such it has developed into a somewhat seedy part of town, hosting pot-shops, stews, wolfsdens, and other undesirables who can afford to build their dens only in the lee of some crumbling giant building.

Gnometown. A rock gnome settlement nestled among the ruins, the gnometown is really just a rough region of the Stone Quarter. Gnomish wagons sit in the shadow of old monuments, and the gnomes work as peddlers, coopers, tinsmiths, locksmiths, and metallurgists throughout the city.

THE ROYAL QUARTER

The Royal Quarter is the location of the only mint in Thalasson, where all gold and silver are dyed and struck. It also contains the dwellings of every major dynastic family of the kingdom, and the manors they use when attending court. There are a number of sages, historians, and stargazers who live here, on pleasant tree-clad hills beneath the gaze of the royal palace.

SYNTASMA PALACE

A marvel, wonder, and city all its own: Syntasma Palace, the seat of the House of Atreus, is a court, royal archive, crypt, weapons house, and barracks all in one. Here the Royal Envoys (every giant in the kingdom has this designation) may come to deliver their reports before the throne. Here, the Stone Knights repair when not on campaign. Here, court intrigues occur in the labyrinthine and enormous halls carved from the rock by giants in ages past.

Elborg, Capital of Kjellos

Note: This entry is still being adjusted.

Population: ~80,000
Government: King Magnus Karhart
Militia: King Magnus' knights

Introduction
The city of Elborg is the oldest continuously settled population center in Kjellos, having once served as the imperial outpost for the 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th Legions of the First and Second Empire. The royal castle overlooking the Bay of Ells bears testament to this: its central structures are all imperial-style architecture; three of its towers and an adjoining segment of wall are made from the imperial red bloodstone, porphyry. Elborg was the seat of the Agnarid High King during the Ninth Age, and the old territories of Kelinum were more properly united by the High Metropolitan there.

With the fall of the Agnarids, Elborg was subordinated to Craftsman's Reach, particularly the city of Formyndyra, which served as the new capital. Elborg was all but abandoned. This changed with the coming of the Karharts out of the Reach, in X.285. For two-hundred and twenty-six years, Elborg has been the renewed capital, and the Hall of High Kings has served as the seat of the Karhart family.

Geography of Elborg
Located at the tip of the Kjellan Peninsula, Elborg is situated between the fabled Five Hamlets, its massive imperial outwall marking it out from the idyllic countryside. It sits astride the Bay of Ells, and bears an elf-styled lighthouse designed and constructed by the sea kings of Vesimia in ages past, and commands a view of the Bay of Ahrain. Heavy pine, juniper, and oak woods surround the city's fields.

Elborg itself is low, with a single commanding hill where Elborg Castle stands. The rest of the city spreads around the base of the hill, known now as Alina's Mount, after the second queen of Kjellos. Also eminently visible is the massive Temple of the High Metropolitan, a complex built on an artificial hill of potsherds and other debris, now covered over and indistinguishable from a natural feature. The Temple and the Castle dominate the city, and are sometimes known as the Twin Hills of Elborg.

THE KING'S COURT
Grand Seneschal: Lendman Haka of Galter
Master of the Waters: Dirkail of the Rope
Master-at-Arms of the City: Hirdman Lai of Tornborg
Court Clerc: Ayissa of Holmgrenn
Chamberlain: Sieur Dathos of Tordest
Lord Purser of the Realm: Greveman Alfas of Gorr
Royal Doorwarden: Sieur Asmond of Arnmod
Royal Cupbearer: Doril of Holgrinn
Master of the Hunt: Sieura Misrai of Tordest
Bearer of the Spear: Sieur Alven of Valens
The High Metropolitan: The Divine Ambrose

All governance of the city takes place through the king's court; a small advisory council of merchants, primarily those from the Guild of Mercerfolk, sometimes sit to advise him, but more often the Chief Estate of Peninsular nobility aid the king in governance. The city also boasts some eighteen wizards, and a welter of temples and races from beyond Kjellos.

The Gates of Elborg
The city of Elborg possesses five major gates in its outer wall. These, clockwise from the east, are the Highgate, the Newgate, the Sherdgate, the Lowgate, and the Mongersgate.

Highwood
The district known as Highwood boasts a small grove upon a low mount to give its namesake. This is a source of coppage for much of the city. Merchants, traders, and other well-to-do-peasantry make their dwellings in Highwood. Potter's Lane, which sweeps behind the Great Market just south of it, is renowned for its craftsmen of all shapes and sizes. There are dwarven smiths to be found working next to mannish chandlers and even a handful of elvish craftsmen on that long street.

The Great Market
The largest feature of Highwood is the city's central market. Larger by far than any of the provincial markets, the Great Market is attended by merchants every day; it is only closed on Hierus for temple services.

The Harbors
Stretching across the waterfront of the Bay of Ells, the Harbors are a rough and tumble district where most of the city's poor dwell. It has a large collection of boarding houses for sailors, as well as potshops, inns, and taverns. The city gallows and cages are also in the Harbors, located just offshore on a small islet facing Ropemaker's Row.

Castleside
The wealthiest portion of Elborg, Castleside is where the nobility of the kingdom reside when not paying their respects at court. The manors of the powerful and the homes of the very wealthiest and most grasping of merchants can be found here. Additionally, Castleside has its own satellite temple of the Law, as well as a temple of Halor, a Forge Divine chapterhouse, and entrances to the old Royal Crypts of the Agnarids, the Tholharts, and the Karharts.

Templeside
The district right around the huge edifice of the Temple of the High Metropolitan, this district is replete with a number of wizard's homes, as well as a small enclave of elves and foreigners known as the Outland Town.

Aita Valmindene, City of the Elves

INTRODUCTION

Aita Valmindene (EYE-ta val-MIN-din-uh) is the oldest city in Atva-Arunia. Its first stones were laid before even those of Imperial Miles. The Southmen helped construct the Tower of Tursas themselves in a time before elves knew how to build towers of their own. Now, the City of White Walls stands like a glistening gem in the heart of the Greatwood, several rods west of the great mountain Aurisia, whose mighty slopes can be seen from within the city. As befits its age, Aita Valmindene is one of the most densely populated elvish cities in Arunia, with centuries upon centuries of construction abutting one another. Indeed, it is one of the few elvish cities ever to overspill its walls, with the fabled Garden Quarter and the Vineyards all occupying space beyond the ancient limit of the city.

Coming to Aita Valmindene is normally done by riverboat, up the River Valmin. It first appears when the river ship is still some eight rods distant: a glimmering shining mass of spires on the horizon, surrounded by dense forest. Eventually, the ships are forced to disembark their passengers at a great artificial pool, dug with the help of dwarven craft, outside the walls. Here, elvish customs agents pour over the craft and register them with the harbor authorities. Once the token fee is paid, visitors from the west are welcomed into the great city to wander to their heart's content.

HISTORY

The history of Valmindene is the history of the elvish people. It has been the capital of the elvish kingdoms since its foundation, only once occupied during the War of the Moon (also known as the Elvish Civil War), and rarely attacked by any outside armies. To go into the eons of detail would require a voluminous series of its own, so we will not even attempt to delve Valmindene's history here.

COURT OF THE HIEROPHANT

The city is dominated by the presence of the Gwyderion's palace, located in its exact center. Since the days of Tursas the Wise, the Ylvasmetsa, the Greatwood, has been ruled by a Hierophant rather than a king. Today, the Greatwood is under the rule of Caelatulia Elimia, Hierophant of the Daystar. His court is the heart of all political life for the elvish kingdom. Every decision must flow through the reigns of some court official, and all court life is carried out as a leisurely exercise in relaxation and contemplation, a fact that often stymies visitors of other races who arrive to secure some diplomatic concession. For the elves, there is time enough for all things, and no necessity for undue haste.

The Gwyderion's palace is located on an outcrop of land that is surrounded by the many springs that make up the source of the Valmin river. This peninsula is protected by a mighty wall and gatehouse thrown across its neck. Only those with the express invitation of the Hierophant may proceed beyond this gatehouse into the complex of palace buildings that lie on the far side.

The structure of the court is draconic in its complexity and nearly impossible for outsiders to understand. Suffice to say that there are a bewildering array of positions, all held by knights of minor elvish houses, of which there are hundreds in the Greatwood.

At the very heart of the Gwyderion's palace is the Hall of the High Star, an enchanted chamber which mirrors the circuit of the Lamp of the Sun by the transit of a sun of its own, high above the floor, amongst a cannily made mosaic ceiling which fills with clouds when the weather outside is ill. Here, the Gwyderion receives all guests and supplicants while seated on a simple wooden stool with a single cushion.

UPDATE: Since the election of Ilisia the Sage, there have been changes in the palace. The Hall of the High Star has been re-christened as the Hall of the High Moon, as it had been in Serenavalla's time. Many of the Elimian vassals and knights have refused to attend Ilisia's court, and hundreds of scholars have flooded into the halls. Knights have been replaced by sorcerers and scribes.

WIZARDS OF THE CITY

Ever since the Southmen came into the Greatwood and introduced elves to magic, it has been an obsession of theirs. One would be remiss when speaking of Valmindene if we did not turn also to the powerful organizations of wizards that reside within her walls. These are, simply, the Tower of the Pearl, the Tower of the Bleeding Star, and the House of High Sorcery.

Tower of the Pearl.

The Tower of the Pearl, so named for the pearlescent white sheen upon its walls, was founded after the Second Elf-Dragon War. The elvish wizards who fought under the Wizard-Lord of Nostorin returned to the Greatwood much impressed with their cousins' prowess. A small clave banded together to found the Tower of the Pearl, which exists in more or less the same shape to this day, four Ages later.

To gain admittance to the Tower, mages must prove they have mastered High Sorcery. This being done, they must also do a great service for the Tower to achieve the acclaim of its prior members. Further, there are only ever 40 Wizards of the Tower at any given time, and they will not increase their number. Those who join the secretive order are granted access to the hidden libraries of the Tower, as well as admittance to the brotherhood of its members.

Tower of the Bleeding Star.

In stark contrast to the Tower of the Pearl, the Tower of the Bleeding Star was founded after the plague ravaged the Greatwood in the 9th Age. The star to which the tower's name refers is a falling, bleeding, or bearded star, and has the connotation of being a monumentous omen. The members of the Bleeding Star choose their apprentices to induct into the order; it has a much more structured membership and hierarchy than the Order of the Pearl Tower.

Members of the Bleeding Star wear its symbology on their robes, and are known for their alignment with astrological events and signs. They are a withdrawn and careful sect, who sometimes offer unsolicited advise to noble houses. They are also often seen as being politically neutral, something that they do their best to take advantage of by hiring themselves to the great houses indiscriminately. None are certain whether or not they actually do have an external agenda.

The House of High Sorcery.

The House of High Sorcery is the oldest order of wizards in any elvish kingdom, which likely makes it the oldest continuous order in the world. It is an invitation-only society, and only those wizards who have mastered the very highest tier of magic are ever invited into it. Non-elves are sometimes extended invitations as well.

The House of High Sorcery maintains a private compound within the city where its members can meet, live, and study in peace. It is rumored that there are never more than a handful of High Sorcerers at any given time, but they prize their identities, and so the membership of this order is not publicly known.

PLACES IN THE CITY

Road of the Old Kings. Every ruler of every elvish state, excluding only the Wizard-Lords of Nostorin, has a statue along this ancient road. Deep and rutted is the path, and overhung by massive oaks and plane trees. It is the most central circuit within the city, and therefore the most well-traveled. At any hour along the Road of the Old Kings, there can be found a range of chanteurs, lutists, musicians, theater troupes, minstrels, jugglers, acrobats, and adventurers.

The Old Market. This is said to be the oldest market in the north. It is located in a somewhat sunken square, with hundreds of tents and kiosks creating a sort of secondary city. The market is active for three days of the week: Avaunus, Galus, and Heirus. Many merchants are permitted to bring barges into the city the night prior to a market day to unload their wares at Mero's Bridge.

Mero's Bridge. This bridge, while not the original span built by Mero the Southman, still commemorates the ancient compact between elves and men. To that end, statues of the Zeshimite sorcerer adorn it on both sides. It is the only place where the Valmin can be forded without the use of a ferry within the circuit of the White Wall.

The House of Wind Lord. An enormous dome, supported by pillars carved from lapis, and hung with thousands of silver wind chimes, the House of the Wind Lord is the center of Anunia's worship in the north. This is the residence of the priest known as the North Wind. Conclaves and meetings of the Four Winds frequently occur here, in the House of the Wind Lord. Public worship takes place at the external altar, a fantasy of looped silver, and daily ceremonies of prayer are held before the temple for the populace.

Tursas' Mausoleum. So old as to be mostly formless, this ancient lumpen monument is said to house the incorruptible body of the first Hierophant. It is now overgrown with amarantha and purple orchids, lending it the appearance of something long forgotten. However, whenever a new Hierophant is crowned, they are crowned before the Mausoleum of Tursas.

Guildhall of the Silver Tree. The House of the Silver Tree, a renowned elvish trading guild, has its home here in Valmindene. The guildhall is smaller than any of the vast rambling palaces and courtyard-houses of the great elvish families, but still quite large. Members of the compact often stay here when visiting the city, and caravans from Valmindene frequently originate from this marble building, carved all over with birds and branches.

Market of the Sea Fountain. The fountain of Meri at the market's center pumps salt water and is filled with sea fish. This market is open only on Heimirus, and tends to be frequented by merchants from Valcaela and Vesimia.

Shrine of Meri. A small temple dedicated to the Sea Goddess oversees the market. It is made from blue-green seastone and sits on a rise at the northern end of the Market of the Sea Fountain. The Merianite priests collect the market tolls from all the goings-on here, and therefore are also charged with the market's upkeep.

Grove of Lights. The Grove of Lights, which are two stands of alder trees, hide the temples to Aloran and Senia. Each of the trees here is hung with many silver lanterns, which are enchanted to light themselves every dusk. This creates a mystical, haunting quality on the shores of the Valmin and throughout the Market of the Sea Fountain.

Tower of the Pearl. The home of the Order of the Pearl Tower, this building stands alone in the center of the Swordway. Its fabric is opalescent, and glimmers strangely in the sun. It's said that the wizards of the Pearl Tower have enchanted it to contain great halls and libraries within, though from without it appears to be a humble five-story tower.

Sun Square. This square also serves as a smith and metalworker's market on every Avaunus. It is a wide paved space that stands in the light of the Golden Temple. All tradesmen's tents on Sun Square are set up and broken down at the beginning and end of every market day, rather than remaining all week. The square is dotted with statuary describing mighty elvish knights and heroes.

Golden Temple of Noronia. Much like the center of Avaunite worship in Haldera, the Golden Temple in the White City is a massive pyramid with many stepped levels. Every surface is plated in gilding; at midday, the entire temple shines like a second Lamp of the Sun. While this is technically the seat of the priesthood of Noronia, since the Gwyderion occupies the palace at the city center, the Temple of Noronia has been reduced in importance as a physical presence on Sun Square.

Tower of the Bleeding Star. Opposite the Merianite temple is the Tower of the Bleeding Star, a building marked by mystery and strangeness. The tower has no windows, and is made of a black stone flecked with gold. Banners hang from its upper reaches, proclaiming the might of the Bleeding Star. None who are not members of that order have ever been within.

Moonstar Costerhouse. This smaller costerhouse is home to the Moonstar Coster's operations in Valmindene. It is a converted townhouse, carved all about in lions and antelope, that was long ago purchased by the Coster and made into a staging area for meetings and caravans.

Mausoleum of Emperor Sylimus. Sylimus the Elf-Friend, Emperor of Miles, is buried here in Aita Valmindene. His mausoleum is a gathering place for men living within the borders of the White City. The field outside the mausoleum has, since his reign, served as a place for mannish expatriots to sit and discuss affairs of the day, and men are often to be found here in small clusters playing board games or smoking.

Poet's Way. So named for the Poet's Market located between the Wyrmgate and the Mountain Gate, Poet's Way is frequented by elvish writers and dreamers. It is lined with willows, and a small stream trickles alongside its northern course, eventually diving below the earth by the foot of the Malidenorianen hill. The Poet's Market remains the easiest place to purchase parchment and writing supplies in the city.

Road of the Stars. The Road of the Stars is an ancient highway, paved with gemstones studding its surface. It was once the location of several royal palaces, all of which have been repurposed and granted to noble families in the centuries since its completion.

Tower of Ilisia the Sage. This tower belongs to the chief historian of the Gwyderion's court, Ilisia the Writer. Though she is rarely at home (the Gwyderion keeps her plenty busy in the palace), Ilisia is one of the most renowned historians of ancient Arunian history in the north.

The Skyknight Parade Ground. This open field belongs to the Skyknights. From time to time, the Gwyderion asks them to perform feats of martial prowess in and above the city, to remind the elves who commands the order. There are boxes for sitting here, and a well-manicured lawn for the presentment of the pegasi.

The Library of Sulcania. The great Library of Valmindene, a public institution since its earliest days, stands at the end of a colonnaded courtyard, framed by a large mirror-fountain along the Willow Walk. This is a place of repose and study. Many elves come here to be tutored or taught the paideia, the corpus of elvish learning.

The Shuttered Palace. The most ancient royal palace of all, the Shuttered Palace is all that survives of the reign of the mad Gwyderion, Pellarimen. This ancient ruin is sometimes said to be haunted, and most of the elves of the city stay away from it, unless they are there to drink in the melancholy madness of the Mad Lord. For this reason, the Lantern Path actually passes right by the Shuttered Palace.

Lantern Path. A walk often taken by revelers, particularly those who are drunk on rajarico, the Lantern Path is a meandering route through the oldest district of the city, past the Shuttered Palace, that ends in the Field of the Songwrights, by the Silver Gates.

Wayfarer's Palace. There are, perhaps, forty inns and hostelries scattered throughout the vast confines of the White City. The Wayfarer's Palace is one of the most expensive. Located on the Old Market, rooms at the Wayfarer are nearly always full, as travelers from all over the Greatwood come to attend court. It also hosts a large number of mannish merchants and delegates to the court, making it second only to the Kingstaff for mannish customers.

Veiled Hill. This is a place of wolfsdens, carnal delights, and the Night Market, which is open every night. The unseemly and unpleasant portion of the elvish temperament is expressed here.

Kingstaff Inn. The more friendly of the city's inns, the massive Kingstaff, is located on the confluence of the Road of Rejoicing and the Road of the Old Kings. This huge building is serviced by a complex of structures without (stables, kitchen, dovecote, hawkery) and stands on a bluff overlooking the Cavamistiran Palace and the Mausoleum of Finlír the Sage. Rooms at the Kingstaff are finely appointed, but not prohibitively expensive.

Size Ain't All

For the past few days I've been in Paris, Bayeux, and Mont-Saint-Michel. My idea of the relative size of a medieval town, village, or village has been utterly revised. Though I've been in Florence and Rome, I considered them to be somewhat anomalous in terms of size. It was a mistake to think that way. Rome is eminently navigable on foot. Paris is the same. Bayeux is about a stone's throw across. The sizes of medieval cities hold an entirely new dimension in my mind.

Rome was an urban behemoth in its day, and even it was walkable. I never really considered this in light of making fantasy cities, towns, and villages, but really by the modern American standard they are quite small. Walkability is critical to every settlement during this period; horse-travel within cities was virtually unknown due their cost, the danger of running down a pedestrian, and the difficulty of getting from place to place in a crowded street with such a large animal. Horse and carriage travel was actually banned in Rome during the daylight hours, requiring ox drays and carts to supply the city to operate in the late night or early morning hours.

Medieval cities were much smaller and much more compact than the cities that we're used to. Every district of a city should be within reach by, at most, a fifteen or twenty minute walk. Of course, we'd have to cut out the suburbs of the modern cities that we're used to—they didn't exist, or if they did they existed as smaller ringing towns that were not contiguous. These made up the hinterlands of the city, sending products in.

Breaking and bulking was (and still is, in many senses) an important function of major urban centers. Goods travel to the largest urban center within distance where they're turned into bulk units and then shipped to another center. When that bulk arrives at another city, it is broken down and sold back to the city hinterlands. This process happens to a lesser extent at smaller regional markets, which send their bulked products to the urban center.

The medieval hinterland can't support extremely large city centers, nor can they support cities that are too close together.

Just some thoughts from Paris.

The 10th Age: The Comforts of Civilization

Frequently, Dungeons and Dragons takes PCs well beyond the bounds of civilized lands. The most common settings are those at the very marches of settled kingdoms, facing wilderness, foreign enemies, humanoid foes, and other such nastiness. Commonly, the great empires of the ages past are little more than memories, leaving their marks in the form of ruinous welts upon the land. Adventurers are warned to pack a lot to drink because streams and rivers may not be common, to load up on food because the hunting may not be good, to take everything they might need with them and be prepared to walk miles in the wilderness away from all civilization and without good roads, trails, or markers.

So what happens when your adventures are no longer taking place in a great and wild wilderness with only a single large city nearby to call home base? What happens when, for example, you adventure in the capital of all civilized lands, in the heart of human settlement, in the Mother City of Miles? Well, you can reap the rewards of settlement and cultivation, that's what.

The first, most vital, and overlooked thing is that water is plentiful. Great cities are provided with public wells and fountains. The roadsides (and yes, these are real paved roads, not just the simple dirt tracks most kingdoms dare to call highways) are dotted with convenient locales to refill your water, allow your mount to freshen and drink or just graze. Water, the stuff of life, is critically important to adventurers whether they realize it or no. You can't just travel assuming you're going to get the chance to fill up your water skins every single day in the wild—unless the "wild" is the long snaking highway of the Pillar Road, or the Coast Road, or the Oakway, or the Greenway. Yes, there's something to be said for civilization after all.

The second important element of a well-maintained public works is that of the waystation or mansio or viator's stop. These can vary from a small inn-house to a walled town, but in all cases they exist solely on the emperor's coin and primarily in order to provide imperial messengers (viators and Sacred Heralds) with fresh mounts each day. In order to defray the cost of operating mansios and waystations, the emperor's servants often take in guests and caravaneers traveling the highways. Sometimes they forward the excess fees to the emperor and the imperial purse actually makes a profit, but mostly they just keep whatever's left over for themselves. And why not? The notion of corruption and misappropriated funds is much weaker in Arunia as people aren't expected to separate public and private personae.

Civilization also provides good access to healers. Wherever a city stands, physicians and medici must be in attendance. These men and woman can only be supported by major urban centers. In all other cases, a town or ville is likely to have only one or two, a flock of less reputable folk, and perhaps a few cunning men or women who make their living by mumbling magic words and giving folks nettle tea.

Demographic diversity is also much more prevalent in large urban centers like Miles. These cities rely on their position on trade routes (or trade routes rely on the wealth of these cities, depending on the details) and trade routes bring contact with the outside world. Dwarven forges, elvish workshops, and gnomish cartwrights can be found in profusion in Miles—and where there's profusion, there's price competition, tending to drive prices downward (though the expense of living in Miles drives them back up again; the battle of pricing is a difficult one in the center of the empire).

There's always plenty to do in great urban centers for adventurers, from exploring the ancient and august sewage system inherited from the Second Empire to being the political bullies of one faction or another. Factors, magnates, merchants, and more all have needs to be seen. While there may be a dearth of dungeons proper, the other types of work more than make up for their presence (or absence). Smuggling rings, assassinations, tavern brawls, and more will provide myriad and sundry options for those thrill-seekers who choose to stay in Miles or any other great city.

A Note on Roads and Cities

Roadways and tracks swell around cities, they proliferate and spread like a thousand veins feeding lifeblood into its gates. Lots of fantasy presents cities as this sort of isolated environment, springing mushroom-like from the plain. The existence of subsidiary towns and tributary villages that surround cities in a network of roads and lanes is a well known and well studied effect; this area is often called the cities' hinterland and is even recognized in medieval law sources as a verity. Communes, that is cities that have been granted special charters making them semi-autonomous rather than the private holdings of an individual nobleman, generally include within their jurisdiction a belt of towns a few miles wide in every direction. These towns feed the city, they bolster its industry, and they provide it with all kinds of goods not available in an urban environment. I can't think of the book off the top of my head, but there's a great economic history of the middle ages that has a series of interesting hexes and algorithms used to predict (and describe) the size and distribution of towns and villages, middling sized cities, and large cities. This system uses as its basis the idea of "breaking and bulking," an economic feature of market centers.

When you stand outside the walls of a medieval city, you are standing on a track that runs all around them, from gate to gate. Sometimes the gate you want to enter is closed or busy or has a tariff on it. This means you'll travel to another one of the many gates, and enough people do this over time that even were it not part of the design feature of the city, this track would be created by the simple action over time of merchants with caravans attempting to find the optimal entry-point.

Spreading out from this ring-shaped track are farms and pasturage, intertwined by tracks and roads that link them together and to the city from which they receive their rights. Much like a fortress, these are the places that will be raided and burned if the city invokes the ire of an enemy or the extension of royal policy calls for war on that particular commune (the War of the Lombard League comes to mind). Beyond these will be found a number of satellite villages that serve the city in much the same way and may be subject to the same types of reprisals by invading armies.

Furthermore, cities grow up on trade routes where major roads cross (or trade crosses from roadway to riverine, or oceanic, or riverine to oceanic, or however it may be). It is rare indeed for a city to be located 'nowhere,' ie, not on the conflux of other trade lines. The algorithm for computing city locations must always be manually bent to take into account the location of the major trade routes—big cities serve as anchor points, and the small villages and medium market towns spread out like pockmarks from this central location, naturally springing up.

To overcome this economic certainty would require major intervention by fantasy factors. The existence of widespread flying trade on the backs of carpets or pegasi, for instance, might justify the presence of a city in a remote mountainside or a historical factor such as the removal of an entire people to a protected mountain-fastness (Machu Picchu, for instance) would provide a less fantastic reasoning. Still, understanding the basic distribution of cities and markets is important so that when you break that reasoning, at least you know why.

The Metaphysical Weight of History and Memory

This is a sort of companion post to the Life of the City. Unlike that post, this one is focused on the role of memory and history in the conception of the city.

Geographic locations act as memorial cues and assist in building civic memory. Networks of memory attach to loci, forming complex layers of inter-connected meaning. For example: the Roman empire erected civic memorials throughout their urban centers; the physical accretion of these memorials describe maps (the main procession route through which triumphs and other political processions would proceed) in their cities. Arches of triumph and the great pillars (such as Trajan's Column) are the most well known of these memorial accretions. An Arch of Triumph, for example, serves as a cue to remind the citizens of several things at once. The power of the empire is proven by the imperial ability to organize labor and material, reiterated by the triumphal military engagement memorialized on the arch. The soldiers depicted there are generic any-soldiers. Many fathers, husbands, and brothers served in the imperial military machine; seeing these generic soldiers was a way of allowing the memorial to function across all members of Roman society and to join the citizenry together as a sort of single body.

These powerful networks of meanings were intensely important to the ancient world. They were plied by the Greeks and the Romans, the Egyptians and Persians, the Sumerians and all the ancient peoples. They are still applied today: Mary Carruther's great example of the Lincoln Memorial which has become filled with meaning beyond Lincoln as it has survived in collective and architectural memory of Washington DC. It signifies Abraham Lincoln, the Civil War, Equality, and has the marches of time written upon it, perhaps most significantly the "I Have a Dream" speech of Martin Luther King.

As civil spaces acquire these sorts of connections and networks they become further integrated into the life of the city every single square, location, and façade is entered into an endlessly complicated conversation about the history of the locale. When designing cities, these types of stories are important to note. The steps of a temple aren't just "those steps over there." They were created for a specific, often rhetorical, purpose. Those steps are were countless zealots have assembled, the same place where public orations where given and perhaps where traitors where hanged. While PCs and readers can't necessarily be aware of these distinctions (at least not all at once) those who truly inhabit the city earn their spiritual citizenship by being aware of these sometimes conflicting but always overlayed histories and meanings.

In any culture that relies heavily on public ceremony to form memory, and on memory to form collective culture, the steps in constructing civic memorials are probably well-attested and understood. For example, no ancient culture would simply demolish something they wanted the citizenry to forget (or if they did, their strategy would not be complete) because instead of being forgotten it would be remembered as both complete and constructed AND destroyed. The ruin of the building would be a memorial cue that reminded the viewer of the building as it once stood. Instead, semantic networks are changed and overwritten, new buildings can be raised on the foundations of the old, one temple may be consecrated into the religion of another, etc. Semantic change is far more important a tool than the pick or the axe.

The Life of the City

If Italo Calvino has taught me anything, it's that cities are like people. Each has its own distinct characteristics that makes it stand out from the crowd of other cities. Each has a unique history and a confluence of circumstance that proves its past in its very structure. No two cities are completely alike. Thus, when designing cities (whether it be for Gangbusters or for AD&D or something else entirely) it's important to take these things into consideration.

Structure is the first thing to think about. The physical layout of a city, as well as the buildings which comprise it, plays a huge role in what it feels like. Whether the entire place is wattle and daub (High Medieval London) or built of plaster and brick (Ancient Rome) or sheathed completely in marble (Greece) or made of concrete and I-beams (Prohibition New York) is the very first consideration. Cities built of permanent stone are more present, more lasting, and stretch back further into an antique history than those made of temporary materials. Looking up the great stele and temples of a stone city isn't simply looking at the achievements of man, it is peering into the glorious past of that city and seeing the city's fathers. Wooden halls, no matter how glorious, speak only of the present. Stone structures speak of the power of the present extended into the past as a trail of history and extended a well into the future as a promise of solidity.

The physical layout of the city plays into this as well. Cities are like eggs: they start out small, surrounded by a wall, and then shatter their wall and grow larger, leaking out of the "shell." Sometimes a new one is built, but that two is often shattered. At the end stage of their growth they're "scrambled," completely without reference to where their walls once were. Medieval cities tend to be in either stage one (walled), stage two (walled but breached), or stage 2a (walled, breached, re-walled) and to repeat that cycle. However, even when walls are breached they may be retained to form older districts -- and if they aren't, those precincts may still be remembered culturally. For example, the capital of the Third Milean Empire, Miles herself, was once a settlement on a hilltop. This settlement was walled, and still is: but now it is the district known as Pillar Hill, and the gates remain to remind the populace of the powerful imperial presence atop it.

Dividing a city into districts is a good way to get a handle on what may otherwise seem an amorphous mass. These are often known as Quarters in medieval and fantasy sources: the Merchant's Quarter, the Temple Quarter, etc. However, these need not be as cut and dry as the name makes them sound. The Temple Quarter could easily be a long relatively slender portion of the city, representing a few streets where most of the major cults have congregated. The Merchant's Quarter may be a maze of alleys where the mercantile warehouses are located.

Cities also get their character from the physical makeup of roads. In cities of the ancient world, roads were always very wide to allow for processions, which was a key element to the makeup of political power. Processing was an opportunity for classical rulers to see the populace and be seen by them. This means that wide avenues were vital to the political health of ancient cities. However, as the ancient world crumbled and the mechanisms of public power shifted away from the urban centers, the processions fell into disuse. Power resided not in the urbanized population, but in the palaces and the rural settlements in the countryside from which food could be raised. This meant that ordinances providing for wide streets fell into disuse and the great avenues were crazily filled in by new building.

Roads also help determine major trade routes, as do the presence of rivers. Most ancient cities relied on the presence of large bodies of water to connect them to the outside world. Those that didn't had to make do with subsidiary cities that were connected to the water: eg, the Roman docks at Ostia.

Lakes, rivers, and seashore help affect the makeup of cities. Paris has the Seine, Rome has the Tiber, London the Thames. These cities are partially defined by the character of the waterways which they inhabit. This harkens back to the city divisions, as the river is a natural division which easily demarcates different districts or regions.

As far as trade routes go, economy plays a huge factor in the feeling of cities. Ancient or Classical cities, those which serve as major political urban centers because they are cities (Athens, Sparta, Carthage, Tyre, etc.) tended to bend trade to them rather than the other way around. They were wealthy not because they were necessarily well-positioned, but rather because their political and social structure allowed them to become so. An important question indeed is whether a city has become flush with gold because it lies on a trade route... or whether the trade route passes through the city because of its power. The economics of trade can be thought of in a way that is similar to modern descriptions of gravity: a rubber plane over which trade flows, with more and more concentrations of it causing divots, which in turn bends other routes towards those divots. Wealth can accumulate because trade routes cross in a region, but it can also accumulate because a city is mighty and demands tribute, or hauls the riches of conquered nations to its gates.

The populace itself should always be considered: who lives in this place? They need not be the same men who always lived there. In the 9th century, Londonwic was a wooden town built outside the old stone Emporia left behind by Rome. (The question of whether the so-called Anglo-Saxons had completely displaced the native Roman Britons or whether their culture simply changed to be Saxon is beyond the scope of this argument) Cities long dead can be rebuilt by others, or left to crumble.

At the end of the day, great cities should have a character as discernable as any NPC or supporting character, for they are themselves living things comprised of long histories. They are as storied as any individual man, and the scars they bear may last out centuries while their triumphs can be recorded for all time.

An Elaboration of Calvert City

Last week I cut short my blogging schedule for a strange and powerful reason: the IRC group started playing Gangbusters. So instead of talking about gods and goddesses of the 10th Age (never fear, Cults and Temples of the Middle World is coming in its text format) I'm going to talk about the lords and ladies of liquor, the kings and queens of booze, the great masters of Gangland murder and exactly how that has played out.

We've never played Gangbusters before. I had never even REALLY thoroughly read the book before. I have a pdf of the thing, not a hard copy, and the OCR is quite atrocious. We were hanging around in IRC, not doing much, and someone (I believe a fella by the handle m4) commented that we should just create a D&D game for every possible combination of available people. That way, we would never be stuck with our thumbs up our asses when we wanted to play something. I said, "Hell, instead we should just play Gangbusters. It's a perfect system for not everyone being around." And I was right.

Gangbusters is like Birthright (or perhaps its more accurate to say that Birthright is like Gangbusters) in that it takes place at a more tactical level than I'm normally used to playing AD&D. When someone wants to find information in AD&D, I force them to roleplay out the encounter with the various people in the city. When someone wants to make some quick gold, they roleplay that too. Each individual instant of life that we can capture is usually expanded into an opportunity to get lost in the alien world of the fantastic. That's not the way that Gangbusters roles.

Instead, the basic unit of action is a week. Not all the players are on the same team; some people play beat cops, others Prohibition Agents, and still others play reporters or criminals look to make a quick score. At the beginning of each week, everyone says what they want to accomplish that week, and then I decide how to break that up into scenes—and whether or not that causes everyone to interact with each other. For example, if criminals rob a jeweler along the beat of some of the city cops who are PCs, I may check to see if they're around to help put a stop to it.

Why is this perfect for a mass group of people who aren't always online all at once? Well, because a lot of the time, people can say what they want to do for their week and then do it without interference from anyone else. The "teams" are very small: two criminals, for example, or two beat cops. ONE reporter. Two Prohis. This means that when they want to accomplish something, they can often jump ahead of the other players so long as they don't directly interact with them. This is perfect for the sometimes-there sometimes-not IRC group. As long as everyone shows up a few times a week, the game can go on.

Of course, I've been heavily involved in creating the setting for them to play in as well. When I took a poll of what type of city everyone was interested in (you know, East Coast-West Coast-Great Lakes sort of question) Baltimore came up almost unanimously on account of the Wire. I was prepared to make a fake Maryland city until I read that Maryland alone among all the states heavily resisted implementing Prohibition and declared itself "Wet Maryland." So instead I took my city modeled on Baltimore and plopped it down on the New Jersey coastline, north of Atlantic City.

Calvert City is a shadow of Baltimore mixed with some New York and Atlantic City. Because Baltimore has the iconic Domino's Sugar factory, I opened with an iconic factory of my own, this one slightly more industrial: The American Atlantic Copper Refining Company. The ACRC became the core of the city's detail, and I expanded out from there. With the copper company representing the political and economic backbone of Calvert City, it was easier to anticipate how the rest of the place functioned. Thanks to the Wire, I have an understanding of modern(ish) American cities as vast interconnected web of interests all playing off of one another. In fact, this understand has been the basis of my city design since I watched the show even in D&D. I'm thinking of writing another essay on what makes a city a city, since you want flavor which makes each city it's own town.

The game mostly takes place in Calvert City's 6th Ward, Little Italy, because it's easier to confine the creation of a city to a single district.

The Dramatis Personae
Agent John Farkas... a strict Prohi Agent who doesn't believe in the Prohibition per se but believes in the law.
Agent Olive DeWitt... a temperance league woman who believes strongly in the end of alcohol
Eugene "the Flash" Gordon... a heavyset newspaper man who works for the Calvert City Chronicle
Patrick Brennan... a good-hearted irish beat cop down in the 6th Ward
Sid O'Connor... another beat cop, fought in the war and is a crack shot
Seamus Finnegan... a local good ole irish lad looking to get into some trouble
Terry O'Doyle... the same, but only 15
Louie Delvecchio... a short-lived Italian "driver"


So far, here's what's happened...

January, 1920.
Week One
Eugene was told by his editor, Willie Vance, that there was something going down on Lombard Street in Little Italy. How he knew this was not exactly clear.

Meanwhile, John Farkas was dispatched by the Commissioner of the Prohibition in the city to the 6th Ward to investigate the sale of the Redbrick Brewery and Distillery as well as to make a show of force to prove that Prohibition was no joke. He went to go and get help from the Captain of Police there, and was introduced to the local Master Patrolman, Tommy O'Doyle.

Eugene went to go have a drink in Cosimo's Cafe when he saw Officer O'Connor (who had been assigned to the Lombard beat in the area) going to get himself a coffee. Both were given free coffee by a kid named Alfonse. They chatted for a while before a thin weasel-faced man came in with a pair of bodyguards and sat down. His bodyguards left, and Alfonse begged them to "eat faster" but Sid didn't catch the meaning of the plea. With his thugs outside smoking, a huge guy in a fur coat came into the Café, saw the cop, asked "Che cazzo è un poliziotto fa qui?" then drew a handgun and said to the guy in the back, "Figaro dice ciao," and shot him in the face.

Eugene snapped a series of pictures while Sid fired at the assassin, striking his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Terry and Seamus hyped themselves up, got the help of a local Italian named Louie. The first week, they watched the routine of a local Orthodox Jewish Jeweler -- particularly how he emptied his safe on Wednesday and carried the money to the Banca Stabile through back allies. They planned to ambush him the following week.

John Farkas inquired about where the booze was gonna be, getting Tommy O'Doyle's opinion as a 40-year-veteran of the police force. He reluctantly said that the coffee and pizza shop Siciliano was probably going to be wet that night. He phone Eugene (who he had heard of through the cops) and got him down to write an article when they busted the joint—which they did, storming it and arresting an old Italian named Manzinni.

Week Two
The robbery of the Jew is undertaken. He laughs at the gunmen at first, warning them "You don't vant to be doing dis!" but eventually gives up his case. Once the three crooks start walking away, he runs out of the alley and calls a cop over, shouting "Call Moishe Edelson!"

The cops (Sid and Pat) pound after the crooks. They split up at the other end of the alley, leaving Louie with the bag of money. He's eventually chased down into a tenement building and throws the case down and turns himself in. When the cops take him in they find the concealed pistol in his pocket. He gets arraigned, and put in jail awaiting his trial. The Public Defender begs him to plead guilty and roll on his friends. He does not.

In the holding cells, a cop calls him over to the bars. "Be a mensch," he says, "and come over here. I have something for ya." When he gets near, the cop claps his hand over his neck and stabs him in the thigh, whispering "This is from Moishe Edelson, cocksucker." Louie bleeds out on the floor of his cell.

Meanwhile, Farkas and Eugene start digging, hunting for names of bosses in the neighborhood. Eugene discovers that Alfonse is an informant for Vance, and starts paying him to give HIM information. Farkas questioned Manzinni in prison, warning him that he would do everything he could to get the names of his bosses out of him. Manzinni affected not to care, saying firstly that he had led a good life, that he was better off now than he had been in Sicily, and that the Prohibition Act had no teeth. He did imply that his old boss, Danny Zambrano, had died a few months back and sold Siciliano to him. Farkas is beginning to put together a pattern with this fellow named "Figaro" and those who work against him.

Sid and Pat walk their beat as normal, but Sid is now the renowned "Hero Cop" who shot an assassin, participated in a raid on Siciliano for liquor, and helped chase down a criminal who stole from a local jeweler.

Eugene's talk with Alfonse in the Calvert City Graveyard (the kid didn't want to talk in Cosimo's, where he works as a waiter) led to him explaining why "Meester Figaro" was so mad at Liuzzi (the guy in the restaurant) and Zambrano: they had both arranged to purchase the Redbrick Brewery out from under Figaro in October of 1919, secretly swooping in to buy it when Figaro wanted it.

Week Three
Farkas spent Week Three digging into the County Records to see who owned what. He discovered that the Redbrick Brewery and Distillery (actually registered as the Rotembackstein Brauerie) was sold by one Friedrich Schultz to an Anthony Avolino Esquire in October of 1919. Furthermore, Siciliano was sold by Daniele Zambrano to Audio Manzinni for a paltry sum around the time of the mobster's death. He requested a warrant from the Commissioner to raid the Rotembackstein Distillery, and was informed that the warrant would come through on Wednesday of the following week.

Seamus broke into the abandoned Distillery that Tuesday to see what he could find. He recovered a letter from A.A.Esq. to Friedrich Schultz as well as three cases of Rotemback Whisky and spirited them back to his house. He then went and sold a case to Big Dan McShane for $73 and a shot of whisky.

At the end of the week, an ACRC copper truck skipped the curb and hit a kid on Lombard street. The driver was fried on booze. Sid and Pat responded, but Tommy O'Doyle and his younger cousin Mickey (a sergeant) arrived and warned them not to touch the truck. Fancy ACRC lawyers soon showed up and spirited the driver off.

Eugene spent week 3 expanding his contact network.