Ah, slowly filling in the gaps. A few things -- part of my world background/future history assumes much higher levels of tension between the US and the former USSR and China, leading to a lot more military bases, underground shelters, and advanced military technology. It also lets me re-open closed bases and give Philadelphia an active military shipyard.
Floating City Of New Philadelphia
The entire eastern seaboard, densely populated on both Earth and Arith, cracked into a chain of rocky islands in a single hour of cataclysm -- followed up, a few days later, by a series of nuclear strikes which lined the Shattered Coast with worldholes, great magical tears between planes. Tens of millions died instantly (and some theorize that this much psychic stress must account for something), but many survived and had to decide what to do next.
The Philadelphia Naval Base, closed in the mid 1990s and converted to civilian use, had been reactivated by the military in 2015, as foreign tensions increased to greater than Cold War levels. Several destroyers and smaller ships were regularly docked there, and by a fortunate coincidence, were out to sea on the day of the Crush. While the captain of the Olympus chose to take his ship and its support group deeper out to sea, Captain Craig Kallisto of the destroyer Gallatin decided to attempt a rescue of survivors now trapped in the drowned ruins of Philadelphia. Risking disaster by navigating the rocky and storm tossed waters, he managed to save a few hundred people, and used a mix of bluster and force to 'recruit' anyone in the area with working boats -- from sport fishermen to yachtsmen -- into helping him. By the time he had saved everyone he felt could be saved, New Jersey had been nuked and it was painfully obvious there was nowhere safe to go. (The first attack on the smaller ships of the Gallatin fleet by sahuagin raiders convinced him of that....)
He found that most of the survivors didn't want to leave, and of course had nowhere to go. The thought of transporting hundreds of civilian refugees on a wild hunt for a safe haven didn't appeal to him. Partly by inertia and indecision, the survivors started to settle in, the fleet drifting among the ruins. The seas of Arith, now mixed with those of Earth, contained fish in a density not seen in the Atlantic for decades. Small islands proved stable enough for subsistence farming. The mad tangle of ruins proved very defensible, and a few dozen depth charges wiped out the sahuagin city which had appeared a mile or so offshore, ending the most regular threat.
The Gallatin itself is anchored, its fuel long since exhausted. It and its sister ships, bedecked with every scavenged solar panel that could be found, form the hub of a dispersed, half-floating, city. Smaller craft, capable of running on alcohol or biodiesel, provide an active coast guard, protecting converted fishing boats. Dozens of small islands are covered in crops, providing steady if not always varied food, and regular runs into the ruined suburban sprawl return all sorts of useful treasures. In 12 PC, a diving expedition found and recovered the Liberty Bell, which is now displayed on the foredeck of the Gallatin.
As with a lot of post-Crush societies, democracy has taken a back seat to expediency. Captain Kallisto considered the situation to be a state of emergency justifying martial law, and nothing since the Crush has changed this perception. When Kallisto died in PC 18 (of, oddly enough, natural causes), his second-in-command, Julius Operman, took over as Captain, and there was very little dissent over this. Society is divided between 'the fleet' and 'the ciies', and while all able-bodied citizens are expected to form up when ordered to do so during an attack or invasion, there is no formal draft -- indeed, joining the fleet is difficult if one comes from a 'civvie' background, and marrying an officer is considered a major social move. The 'civvies' elect or appoint ombudsmen to represent their interests, and there are monthly public meetings where complaints, issues, or concerns can be voiced.
The Floating City is currently at a state of semi-peace with its neighbors, though tensions are high. The tritons of Siliamish have engaged in several skirmishes with fishing boats which have entered 'their' waters, but there is also a mutual protection pact against the sahuagin who still sometimes raid from south. There are several holdfasts surrounding the Floating City which view it will suspicion; its military outlook and the fear of an expansionist leader coming to power worry many of the locals.
Outsiders are generally not turned away, but are also not encouraged to say. There is a flotilla of trading barges which is moored on the outer edges of the fleet's claimed territory, and this is where merchants and wanderers are expected to stay. Private arms above the level of a shortsword are not permitted; Fleet officers maintain weapon lockers where all such items are stored during visits. Petitions for citizenship are possible, but closely scrutinized.
As with many Earthborn holdfasts, magic is viewed with suspicion, but it's too useful to be banned. Three sorcerers have been born to the locals over the years, all of whom ended up being "recruited" into the fleet; in addition, attempts have been made to master the arts of wizardry, though with few Arithian teachers and no real books of arcane lore, it has been painfully slow going. The ship's chaplain developed 'miraculous' powers, of course. The fleet maintains no 'official' faith, in accordance with military regulations, but the New Unified Church Of The One God is the most popular religion, its missionaries being both enthusiastic and willing to perform miracles on demand. Those claiming a need for religious services are often allowed to travel, escorted, to one of the several floating places of worship, which include one of the only surviving synagogues.
Non-humans and Arithian humans are rare. A few have petitioned for citizenship over the years, but the Floating City is very strongly Earthborn in character and is, if not actively hostile to Arithians, profoundly unwelcoming.
Showing posts with label regions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label regions. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Get Your Kicks On Route..er...70...
If I ever do this commercially, I will have to do a Route 66 supplement. For now, however, this is a "sketch" of Route 70, specifically the part from Indiana to Pennsylvania. Why? Because the PCs are crossing it in "downtime", and I want the players to make up some Cool Stuff that happens en route. There's a lot of points here I want to detail in the future; I could drill down to do a dozen pages on a single city-ruin if I need to, but for now, this general 'sense of the place' will have to do.
And of course, in so doing, I realized I needed to do a history of Mantaros, the kingdom which occupied the Northeast region on Arith. Since I included a throwaway reference to a floating sky-palace, I then leap to the conclusion that Mantaros, already established as the oldest kingdom of the Alliance, was one of those very magic-heavy kingdoms, with cities filled with magical wonders of all sorts -- which naturally self-destructed dramatically when the Crush came. Look for some more essays soon, and sorry about the long gap.
For those traveling across the northern part of the former United States, the best and safest road -- and this is using very qualified definitions of 'best' and 'safest' -- is the former Route 70, which was also a series of wide, Roman-style paved roads on Arith. Today, of course, it is a cracked and broken ruin -- impassable in many parts -- but still the closest thing to a direct east-west route in the area.
It passes through many dead and ruined cities, which creates a need for long detours for those not brave or foolish enough to enter the monster haunted ruins. Indianapolis is a swirling madhouse due to the Worldhole created during the Day of Fire; Columbus escaped the nukes but remains a deadly jumble of fallen buildings and lethal lairs; the outskirts of Pittsburgh hold strange and twisted creatres which spawn from its own reality-twisting center.
Monsters native to the area include roaming bands of gnolls and orcs, as well as bullettes, ankhegs, and wild wyverns (often confused with dragons by the Earthborn; Arithians laugh at such childish errors). There are bands of hill giants in many parts of western Ohio, as well as their ogre cousins. Ragedrakes are known to dwell in the Pittsburgh region. Rogue golems, freed from the spells which bound them and filled with rage at their enslavement, are common near the old Ohio border, where an academy of magic specializing in the art of soulless constructs (all mages learned well the lesson of Skallidane!) once stood in the kingdom of Marridon. Countless dozens of other monstrosities exist in lesser numbers.
The Pittsburgh worldhole is a partial gateway to a part of the Elemental Plane of Earth, one made of every kind of hard metal. As a consequence, creatures surrounding it have become things of living metal, of lead and iron and even adamantine, though they are not constructs nor golems, but creatures of metal flesh.
Columbus is a wild zone, a tangled mess of ruined skyscrapers mixed with the remnants of high magic, as it was an old city, called Jaliath, in Mantaros. Its most spectacular feature was the Emerald Minaret, the flying palace of the Baron of Jaliath. During the crush, the Minaret shattered, the lower half falling to earth, the upper half remaining afloat. The Baron and his family are presumed dead, but the remnant of the twisted spire still defends itself, firing green beams of arcane energy at any fliers foolish enough to approach. Not a few rogues of Arith idly dream of a plot to enter the place, as the treasures of the old Baron are said to be of incaculable worth...
Once the mountains of middle Pennsylvania (or the Kraz Kar Haj) are reached, the threat of orcs and goblins becomes more dire, as these species have laid claim to much of this area, and while they are not well organized, they are numerous, and regularly raid for food and slaves. There are a few dozen faltering Dwarvish fortresses scattered along the range, most deeply paranoid and mistrustful, and so cunningly hidden an army could march over their front door and never know it. The mountains also hold dire beasts.
And of course, in so doing, I realized I needed to do a history of Mantaros, the kingdom which occupied the Northeast region on Arith. Since I included a throwaway reference to a floating sky-palace, I then leap to the conclusion that Mantaros, already established as the oldest kingdom of the Alliance, was one of those very magic-heavy kingdoms, with cities filled with magical wonders of all sorts -- which naturally self-destructed dramatically when the Crush came. Look for some more essays soon, and sorry about the long gap.
For those traveling across the northern part of the former United States, the best and safest road -- and this is using very qualified definitions of 'best' and 'safest' -- is the former Route 70, which was also a series of wide, Roman-style paved roads on Arith. Today, of course, it is a cracked and broken ruin -- impassable in many parts -- but still the closest thing to a direct east-west route in the area.
It passes through many dead and ruined cities, which creates a need for long detours for those not brave or foolish enough to enter the monster haunted ruins. Indianapolis is a swirling madhouse due to the Worldhole created during the Day of Fire; Columbus escaped the nukes but remains a deadly jumble of fallen buildings and lethal lairs; the outskirts of Pittsburgh hold strange and twisted creatres which spawn from its own reality-twisting center.
Monsters native to the area include roaming bands of gnolls and orcs, as well as bullettes, ankhegs, and wild wyverns (often confused with dragons by the Earthborn; Arithians laugh at such childish errors). There are bands of hill giants in many parts of western Ohio, as well as their ogre cousins. Ragedrakes are known to dwell in the Pittsburgh region. Rogue golems, freed from the spells which bound them and filled with rage at their enslavement, are common near the old Ohio border, where an academy of magic specializing in the art of soulless constructs (all mages learned well the lesson of Skallidane!) once stood in the kingdom of Marridon. Countless dozens of other monstrosities exist in lesser numbers.
The Pittsburgh worldhole is a partial gateway to a part of the Elemental Plane of Earth, one made of every kind of hard metal. As a consequence, creatures surrounding it have become things of living metal, of lead and iron and even adamantine, though they are not constructs nor golems, but creatures of metal flesh.
Columbus is a wild zone, a tangled mess of ruined skyscrapers mixed with the remnants of high magic, as it was an old city, called Jaliath, in Mantaros. Its most spectacular feature was the Emerald Minaret, the flying palace of the Baron of Jaliath. During the crush, the Minaret shattered, the lower half falling to earth, the upper half remaining afloat. The Baron and his family are presumed dead, but the remnant of the twisted spire still defends itself, firing green beams of arcane energy at any fliers foolish enough to approach. Not a few rogues of Arith idly dream of a plot to enter the place, as the treasures of the old Baron are said to be of incaculable worth...
Once the mountains of middle Pennsylvania (or the Kraz Kar Haj) are reached, the threat of orcs and goblins becomes more dire, as these species have laid claim to much of this area, and while they are not well organized, they are numerous, and regularly raid for food and slaves. There are a few dozen faltering Dwarvish fortresses scattered along the range, most deeply paranoid and mistrustful, and so cunningly hidden an army could march over their front door and never know it. The mountains also hold dire beasts.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Pining Away
Another random piece of geography for people to correct my errors on. :) As someone who is from New Jersey, it's always one of the my favorite places to destroy.
The Blighted Woods
South-Central New Jersey was always a small patch of wilderness in the midst of suburban sprawl. The area was worthless for development, and ultimately attained value as a nature preserve. In 2020, it remained so, with the only commercial use being collection of rare or exotic plants to test for useful sequences of DNA. On Arith, the same region was similarly empty of settlement, and was a place where bandits, outlaws, and other such types fled to hide from encroaching justice. Autumn Druids were known to practice dark rituals there, and the places where failed towns lay in ruin were regarded as unhallowed sites prone to undead or worse.
In 2020 (or 0PC), a nuclear missile targeted at New York City veered sharply off course, landing squarely in the center of the Pine Barrens. A worldhole was created there, and the region transformed. Today (2040/20PC), the area is a twisted and warped place, a realm which is, according to some, trapped halfway between the material plane and the shadow plane. It is a dark and forboding zone, monster haunted and evil. As with much of the rest of the Eastern Seaboard, the region is now an archipelago, part of the so-called Shattered Coast, but the waters surrounding the islands are shallow and choked with black, acidic seaweed, causing some to call the region the Sargasso of Shadows. Shipwrecks exist in many places just below the surface, providing additional hazards to navigation, and in many cases, they are filled with the zombies or shadows of their drowned crews.
It is never daylight. At high noon, the Blighted Woods are still cloaked in misty twilight, and most of the time, the place is just black. Light, even magical light, is swallowed by the gloom; it is impossible for those without darkvision to see more than thirty feet ahead. The place is filled with constant noise -- trees swaying and creaking without wind to move them, the chittering of strange insects, the mournful cries of alien birds. Where the ground is not swamp or mire, it is covered in a foot-thick layer of dead leaves, fallen branches, and the like; this undergrowth constantly shifts and moves as the things which dwell beneath it seek prey.
The worldhole region, occupying about a one mile radius from the blast point, is different. Here, all is barren; dead, leafless trees form black shapes against an eternally grey sky. Nothing solid seems to live here, but shadowbeasts of all description flit from here to there, winking in and out of reality. Dire cold is constant, and fires flicker and die unless they are magically sustained.
There are no normal communities or holdfasts in the Blighted Woods. Nor do any normal, mortal, creatures live there for long, unless they are very powerful and very strange. One local power is Nergiaphen Of The Black Scar, a being rumored to be a druidic lich, who has taken over a twisted grove near to the worldhole and is practicing bleak arts. A few creatures who were dwelling in the woods when the blast struck have been transformed; a gang of bandits known as Martin's Marauders has been transformed into dread shadows, and they are known to ride and raid on moonless nights.
The place is also home to a Chancery of the Seelie Court, one of the largest on the Shattered Coast.
Many of the shadow beasts created in the Blighted Woods have roamed outwards, becoming a persistent threat to travelers and outlying farms.
The Blighted Woods
South-Central New Jersey was always a small patch of wilderness in the midst of suburban sprawl. The area was worthless for development, and ultimately attained value as a nature preserve. In 2020, it remained so, with the only commercial use being collection of rare or exotic plants to test for useful sequences of DNA. On Arith, the same region was similarly empty of settlement, and was a place where bandits, outlaws, and other such types fled to hide from encroaching justice. Autumn Druids were known to practice dark rituals there, and the places where failed towns lay in ruin were regarded as unhallowed sites prone to undead or worse.
In 2020 (or 0PC), a nuclear missile targeted at New York City veered sharply off course, landing squarely in the center of the Pine Barrens. A worldhole was created there, and the region transformed. Today (2040/20PC), the area is a twisted and warped place, a realm which is, according to some, trapped halfway between the material plane and the shadow plane. It is a dark and forboding zone, monster haunted and evil. As with much of the rest of the Eastern Seaboard, the region is now an archipelago, part of the so-called Shattered Coast, but the waters surrounding the islands are shallow and choked with black, acidic seaweed, causing some to call the region the Sargasso of Shadows. Shipwrecks exist in many places just below the surface, providing additional hazards to navigation, and in many cases, they are filled with the zombies or shadows of their drowned crews.
It is never daylight. At high noon, the Blighted Woods are still cloaked in misty twilight, and most of the time, the place is just black. Light, even magical light, is swallowed by the gloom; it is impossible for those without darkvision to see more than thirty feet ahead. The place is filled with constant noise -- trees swaying and creaking without wind to move them, the chittering of strange insects, the mournful cries of alien birds. Where the ground is not swamp or mire, it is covered in a foot-thick layer of dead leaves, fallen branches, and the like; this undergrowth constantly shifts and moves as the things which dwell beneath it seek prey.
The worldhole region, occupying about a one mile radius from the blast point, is different. Here, all is barren; dead, leafless trees form black shapes against an eternally grey sky. Nothing solid seems to live here, but shadowbeasts of all description flit from here to there, winking in and out of reality. Dire cold is constant, and fires flicker and die unless they are magically sustained.
There are no normal communities or holdfasts in the Blighted Woods. Nor do any normal, mortal, creatures live there for long, unless they are very powerful and very strange. One local power is Nergiaphen Of The Black Scar, a being rumored to be a druidic lich, who has taken over a twisted grove near to the worldhole and is practicing bleak arts. A few creatures who were dwelling in the woods when the blast struck have been transformed; a gang of bandits known as Martin's Marauders has been transformed into dread shadows, and they are known to ride and raid on moonless nights.
The place is also home to a Chancery of the Seelie Court, one of the largest on the Shattered Coast.
Many of the shadow beasts created in the Blighted Woods have roamed outwards, becoming a persistent threat to travelers and outlying farms.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sparring
And now we get to random bits of geography. :) I often base my creation on whatever weird images crawl into my brain, and the image of a vast ocean filled with jutting obelisks of stone, battered by crashing waves, and home to countless monsters lurking in the violent froth, was too good to pass up. Sigmund Freud can have a field day; I don't care.
The Firefox spell checker doesn't recognize 'thaumaturgic'? What gives?
EDIT:Corrected a whole bunch of embarrassing geographical errors. I'm a writer, not a cartographer, damn it!
====================
Sparred Sea
Where two of the Great Lakes, Michigan and Huron, once stood, there now exists a vast and twisted inland sea, one which has swallowed most of northern Michigan and which is rendered almost impassable by great juts of land. This region, the creation of nuclear and thaumaturgic energies intermingling, is the Sparred Sea.
History
Shortly after the Crush, a sequence of events -- the details may never be fully known -- set off a nuclear exchange which destroyed many of the world's largest urban areas and unleashed the dreaded Worldholes. One powerful bomb was intended for Chicago, but narrowly missed, impacting a few miles offshore in Lake Michigan -- not, as erroneously reported by clearly drunk chroniclers, Superior. This area was already grossly unstable, and the bomb triggered a cataclysmic chain reaction. The lake buckled and boiled, and strange energies exploded outwards. The shores were scoured for miles around. The region lay shrouded in burning mist for weeks; when the fog finally receded, those who ventured back found that the lake had become filled with huge, jagged, outcroppings of rock, often hundreds of feet tall. Navigation became nigh-impossible, for the boat-ripping spars of rock which lined the bottom could appear anywhere -- and, indeed, seemed to shift position, as one week's "safe" route became next week's ticket to the bottom.
Worse still, while there was no active, visible, Worldhole in the lake, it showed all the effects of one. Hideous mutations emerged from the lake, all kind and manner of twisted abominations. Gargantuan monsters would emerge to swallow those few foolhardy enough to attempt a crossing, while the shores were filled with things of nightmare that emerged during the dark to lay waste to a lakeside camp or a struggling village, only to vanish back into the rocky depths with the coming of the sun.
Present Day
The best reason to venture near the Sparred Sea are the Chicago ruins. The city and its associated suburbs are half-drowned and mostly rubble, but they still contain considerable wealth, and there are always rumors of lost caches of material, be it gold, fine wine, or high-tech engine parts. The sunken eastern half of the city is a monster-infested maze, the spires of the skyscrapers mixing with the rocky outcroppings which give the Sparred Sea its name.
There is also the fact that the lakes remain a source of fresh water, and, if they could be tamed, a navigable route. On Arith, the same geographical region held a number of cities linked in a trade federation known as the Mantarian Alliance. The Codex Mantaros, the law guiding the city-states in their dealings with each other, became the basis for the Alliance Of Free Kingdoms. Many hope that the lake could once again provide a basis for a similar trading state.
Many creatures seeking isolation have made their homes among the spires. Wyverns are known to nest there, near the shorelines, allowing them to forage on land and retreat to relative safety. It is rumored that Duergar have tunneled into the rocks and built a small fortress. Brave and foolish raiders will use the shelter of the stones to hide bases, striking from them at shoreline communities. Creatures of elemental earth are also known to hide among the towers, and stonetouched animals and other monsters are common along the shore. If there are any great or ruling powers on the Sparred Sea, they have not yet made themselves known.
Far from the initial destruction point, there are communities which have set up, or simply remained, along the great lakes, though the corruption and chaos of the Sparred Sea touches on them, as well. Such communities report that the spars themselves seem to be spreading, with maps needing to be constantly updating as new juts of rock emerge seemingly overnight. Whether this phenomenon is natural or directed is unknown.
The magic of the region breeds strange and fierce weather; blistering heat waves and lethal blizzards. Travelers on the lake may face giant waterspouts or rogue waves a hundred feet in height.
The Firefox spell checker doesn't recognize 'thaumaturgic'? What gives?
EDIT:Corrected a whole bunch of embarrassing geographical errors. I'm a writer, not a cartographer, damn it!
====================
Sparred Sea
Where two of the Great Lakes, Michigan and Huron, once stood, there now exists a vast and twisted inland sea, one which has swallowed most of northern Michigan and which is rendered almost impassable by great juts of land. This region, the creation of nuclear and thaumaturgic energies intermingling, is the Sparred Sea.
History
Shortly after the Crush, a sequence of events -- the details may never be fully known -- set off a nuclear exchange which destroyed many of the world's largest urban areas and unleashed the dreaded Worldholes. One powerful bomb was intended for Chicago, but narrowly missed, impacting a few miles offshore in Lake Michigan -- not, as erroneously reported by clearly drunk chroniclers, Superior. This area was already grossly unstable, and the bomb triggered a cataclysmic chain reaction. The lake buckled and boiled, and strange energies exploded outwards. The shores were scoured for miles around. The region lay shrouded in burning mist for weeks; when the fog finally receded, those who ventured back found that the lake had become filled with huge, jagged, outcroppings of rock, often hundreds of feet tall. Navigation became nigh-impossible, for the boat-ripping spars of rock which lined the bottom could appear anywhere -- and, indeed, seemed to shift position, as one week's "safe" route became next week's ticket to the bottom.
Worse still, while there was no active, visible, Worldhole in the lake, it showed all the effects of one. Hideous mutations emerged from the lake, all kind and manner of twisted abominations. Gargantuan monsters would emerge to swallow those few foolhardy enough to attempt a crossing, while the shores were filled with things of nightmare that emerged during the dark to lay waste to a lakeside camp or a struggling village, only to vanish back into the rocky depths with the coming of the sun.
Present Day
The best reason to venture near the Sparred Sea are the Chicago ruins. The city and its associated suburbs are half-drowned and mostly rubble, but they still contain considerable wealth, and there are always rumors of lost caches of material, be it gold, fine wine, or high-tech engine parts. The sunken eastern half of the city is a monster-infested maze, the spires of the skyscrapers mixing with the rocky outcroppings which give the Sparred Sea its name.
There is also the fact that the lakes remain a source of fresh water, and, if they could be tamed, a navigable route. On Arith, the same geographical region held a number of cities linked in a trade federation known as the Mantarian Alliance. The Codex Mantaros, the law guiding the city-states in their dealings with each other, became the basis for the Alliance Of Free Kingdoms. Many hope that the lake could once again provide a basis for a similar trading state.
Many creatures seeking isolation have made their homes among the spires. Wyverns are known to nest there, near the shorelines, allowing them to forage on land and retreat to relative safety. It is rumored that Duergar have tunneled into the rocks and built a small fortress. Brave and foolish raiders will use the shelter of the stones to hide bases, striking from them at shoreline communities. Creatures of elemental earth are also known to hide among the towers, and stonetouched animals and other monsters are common along the shore. If there are any great or ruling powers on the Sparred Sea, they have not yet made themselves known.
Far from the initial destruction point, there are communities which have set up, or simply remained, along the great lakes, though the corruption and chaos of the Sparred Sea touches on them, as well. Such communities report that the spars themselves seem to be spreading, with maps needing to be constantly updating as new juts of rock emerge seemingly overnight. Whether this phenomenon is natural or directed is unknown.
The magic of the region breeds strange and fierce weather; blistering heat waves and lethal blizzards. Travelers on the lake may face giant waterspouts or rogue waves a hundred feet in height.
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