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Building Gossamer, Part 7 – The Verdant Quarter

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On July 19, 2021

In Roleplaying

The Verdant Quarter is now complete, meaning that the entire Gossamer map is likewise finished:

Link to a more detailed image of the Verdant Quarter.

Link to a more detailed image of the full city.

The Verdant Quarter is ruled by King Oberon, Lord of the Hunt, sovereign of the endless summer of Mag Mell. Everything here is green and growing, the blaze of summer sunshine shadowed by the forested hills beyond the city limits and the formidable Cloudcastle atop its behemothic stalk. Oberon himself visits the city rarely, being mostly engaged with various hunts, including the Wild Hunt itself when he joins his Royal cousin and rival Arawn, competing to see which can track down more damned souls, to keep the contract between Hell and Elfhame.

Cloudcastle

Arguably the most impressive fortress in Gossamer, Cloudcastle was not built by the Fair Folk but by the Giants of Jotunheim, who used the stronghold as a mobile battle station, raining down lightning and lobbing rocks at Elfhame below during the Enormity Wars. After the Second Battle of Gossamer, Cloudcastle was captured and turned against its creators; now that the Giant menace has been eliminated, the castle serves as King Oberon’s seat, allowing him to gaze down at Gossamer and Elfhame beyond from atop the vast beanstalk that connects sky and earth. Numerous small structures have since been built amidst the coils of the stalk – palaces and salons for Mag Mell’s elfin royalty and other members of the Seelie Court. The Castle itself is a thing of unearthly beauty, the roughness of its Jotun origins tempered by various additions by the aristocratic fey who now reside in its towers and courtyards, quite literally looking down on their subjects below.

The Fairest Fair

The largest bazaar in Gossamer and indeed in all Elfhame, the Fairest Fair is a sprawling marketplace where anything and everything can be bought and sold. Adjacent to the foreigner’s district of Sloomy and to the Leafroad, the Fair bustles with creatures from throughout Faerie and beyond. Goblins hawk rude pistols and clockwork traps, side-eyed by fatstidious gnomes selling pocketwatches and navigational instruments; shy Firbolg sell finely carved wood furniture cheek-by-jowl with pixie nectar-merchants and treefolk with stalls of their own fruit. Here one can find magical pearls stolen from the monsters of the Poison Sea by adventurous finfolk, musical instruments that warble with the voices of the damned, spellbooks from the wizardly metropolis of Hex, silks from the Dreamlands, relics of ancient Jotunheim, baubles from the glittering mines of the kobolds, and thousands of other oddities and absurdities. Also notable here are a number of enchanted fountains, most obviously the huge Giant’s Cup, a draught of which causes amusing (though temporary) increases in height and knowledge of the Giant tongue.

Glister

Sparkling and shimmering with a thousand iridescent colours, the beautous district of Glister is one of the most wondrous in all of Gossamer, a place of living crystal glowing with eldritch power, a testament to the raw power of the Seelie Court. The structures of Glister are a kind of reservoir of magical energy for the Fair Folk of Mag Mell and Tír na nÓg; in times of need, Oberon and others of the Court can draw on the swirling puissance contained within the endless crystals to produce spells of unthinkable power. Apart from functioning as a magical battery, the district also serves as the academic centre of Seelie Gossamer, with many young Fair Folk studying in the glittering halls of the Prism; others take “orders” at the shrines known as the Cathedral of Bliss or the Temple of Love and Beauty, dedicated not to gods or demons but to the grand abstractions that guide the lives of all Fair Folk in the southern realms of Elfhame.

Mistcliff

The Firbolg are generally a reclusive people, taken to hiding away in remote fastnesses and obscure havens. Those who dwell in Mistcliff are a rare exception – a tribe of giants sworn to the personal service of King Oberon, his royal woodsmen and gamekeepers. They tend to the surrounding forests and hills, ensuring that the Lord of the Hunt finds his trails well-stocked with beasts, protecting the woods from outside threats. Aloof from the bustle of Gossamer, they dwell in the district of Mistcliff, a village perched atop a craggy hill overlooking the Verdant Quarter below. From Hornhall rules Slánga, who still retains the title of King himself, though now a vassal of Oberon, who he acknowledges as High King, though that title is now dubious following the fracture of Elfhame into four realms. Here also can be found the Hall of Leaves, a sacred place kept by the Firbolg druids – an extensive library of Elfin history second only to the Library of the Dead in the Withered Quarter, where the uncountable volumes penned by the shades of Annwn gather dust.

Sloomy

Though an uneasy peace now lies between Mag Mell and Logris, things have not always been so. During the time known in Mag Mell as the Bad Dream, the Sleepless War, Mab and the most skilled sorceresses of the Unseelie Court tormented the Verdant Quarter with curses and spells, most spectacularly including the conjuration of Sloomy. Overnight, the houses and shops of the Quarter began to transform, becoming untethered from reality, flowing into shapes fanciful and strange, shapes drawn from the troubled dreams of those inside them. Mab’s spell created a kind of psychic bleed between Elfhame and the Dreamlands, a spillover that turned part of the Verdant Quarter into a waking nightmare. Evil dreams made flesh soon found their way into the streets, slaughtering those that dreamt them into existence in a bloodbath for which Oberon has never fully forgiven Her Moldy Majesty. Though peace has now been reestablished, Mab’s spell proved irreversible, and so the district of Sloomy still stands, a strange, amorphous pocket of Unseelie magic marring the otherwise pristine sublimity of the Verdant Quarter. Its denizens are no longer hostile to the Seelie, but the Fair Folk of Mag Mell visit the district only grudgingly, typically but passing through on their way to the Blooming Quarter. The place has instead become a kind of foreigner’s quarter for the Unseelie and for dignitaries from the Dreamlands, many of whom can be found in the House of Eyes, a palatial embassy of the plane of slumber. Many Lengians have also moved into the area, finding the neighbourhood a reminder of their homeland; though treated with suspicion elsewhere in Seelie Gossamer, here they have found work fashioning silk, rope, poison, and blades, and occasionally as spies for the various scheming nobles of the Court.

Stalkshadow

Beneath Cloudcastle lies the lush forest-land of Stalkshadow, dotted here and there with the homes and hunting lodges of Mag Mell’s elfin nobility. Most prominent of these is the Lodge, a trophy-hall for the notables of the Seelie Court, wherein are displayed the stuffed heads and polished skulls of drakes, chimerae, griffins, trolls, and all manner of other monster, including the beak of a kraken from the icy seas of Annwn. Traveling to the north along the twisting forest paths, the towering shape of the Big Bad Wolf, Vanargand, can be glimpsed, one of the huge hounds of Jotunheim, spawned by the Griefbringer herself, primeval mother of monsters. The beast devoured thousands of the Fair Folk and their servants during the Enormity Wars, but was injured by Finvarra and nursed slowely back to health by Nicnevan, then High Queen of Elfhame, after the battle. When the war was over, the Wolf remained in Elfhame, and though both Finvarra and Nicnevan have passed to Annwn, he still slumbers in Stalkshadow, stirring when roused by Oberon, who met him first as a child, to go hunting in the prodigious forest of the Vastwood to the south.

The Tiltward

Built to resemble one of the castles of the mortals, the Tiltward is technically a working fortress and has been used as such during various conflicts between the Faerie realms, but in truth it is more spectacle than stronghold. It was first established by Finvarra as a kind of toy castle after a particularly enjoyable sojourn to the Mortal Plane, where the Faerie lord discovered the strange sport of jousting. For several Elfin centuries afterwards, Finvarra insisted the entire Faerie Court attire themselves in the guise of mortal knights and ladies and to learn to joust and fight in their fashion. Though such affectations have fallen somewhat out of style in the other realms, they linger especially powerfully in Mag Mell, and Oberon himself has been known to participate in the elaborate tournaments held in the Tiltward. Special laws still apply to those in the district – all speech must be in what is now a very archaic dialect of the mortals’ “Common Tongue” (which itself has diverged into several languages among the mortals themselves), and “anachronisms” must be surrendered at the various gatehouses before entry; strict fines and worse can be levvied against those who refuse to play along.

Hexian Cosmologies

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On April 7, 2021

In Roleplaying

The Six Planes

Although a multitude of pocket-dimensions, demiplanes, pseudo-planes, and otherworldly subcreations have been documented by metaphysicians, mystics, and wizards, reality seems to consist of six primary planes. Although there are innumerable cosmologies, religions, and metaphysical models, relatively few dispute the reality of these six planes, though some may posit the potential existence of further planes of existence that remain inaccessible. The six principal planes are as follows:

Anathema

Little is known about the alien universe known as Anathema, homeland of the Unspeakable Ones and possibly the Librarians themselves. Some have suggested that this plane of existence is the source of all magic, and that spells are in fact spurts of this aberrant reality spilling into our own world. Whether or not this is true, Anathema is said to be so fundamentally different from our own existence that no sapient mind native to this reality could withstand its strangeness – even the best-honed mind would be reduced to madness in moments.

The Dreamlands

The world of sleep is sometimes called the Dreamlands, a plane of existence to which countless dreamers nightly travel. Most confine their explorations to the misty outskirts of this amorphous realm, but studied dreamers can journey further to discover such places as Dylath-Leen, Ooth-Nargai, Quiddity, Fiddler’s Green, Pegana, and of course the famous Plateau of Leng, that spider-haunted region of horror from whence the Lengians originate. In the Dreamlands, logic and sense are amorphous and the very physical substance of the world is malleable. Many gates and portals to the Dreamlands can be found scattered throughout the planes, including the Gate of Horn in the city of Hex.

Faerie

Faerie is the world of the Fair Folk, more properly known as Elfhame to its denizens. Unlike the Dreamlands, Faerie is subject to very strict rules – albeit rules that mortals find bizarre or nonsensical. Faerie is saturated with magic: indeed, the elves might be said to be made of magic. The capitol of Faerie is the city of Gossamer, which lies at the converge of its four principal realms – Logris, Annwn, Tír na nÓg, and Mag Mell – but Elfhame functionally consists of countless individual fiefdoms ruled by powerful nobles, though there are also various unclaimed lands given over to strange beasts. Pathways to Faerie are reasonably common but difficult to find unless one knows where to look. Several can be found in the Tangle, as well the Feypark of Hex, and in many other places throughout the Mortal World.

Jotunheim

The world of giants, Jotunheim was once accessible from the other planes, but has ceased to be so, apparently knocked loose from the rest of the cosmology, reputedly due to an ancient conflict between its denizens and the Fair Folk, the “Enormity Wars.” Said to be a place of impossible vastness and scale, Jotunheim is now but a strange memory; however, remnants of this plane can still be found in the other worlds, including various giant-folk, trolls, and other creatures. Many speculate that oddities such as the Godwhale Genial Jack or the gigantic die that makes up the Propitious Isle may have originated from Jotunheim, but the most obvious fragment is the island-continent of Terra Prodigiosa, where trees tower high as mountains and the mountains themselves pierce the sky.

The Material Plane

The Material Plane, or Mortal Realm, also called the Waking World, is the plane on which Hex resides – a vast universe, of which the planet of Og is but one of countless others. Some believe that the Material is but one of infinite variations of the same plane, repeating endlessly through time and space. A veil lies between the Mortal Realm and the Netherworld, the Ethereal, a realm of shadows and ghosts, but it is not a true plane – more like a kind of membrane or liminal state between planes.

The Netherworld

Also known as Hell, the Netherworld is the afterlife, the destination to which the souls of the departed arrive. Some virtuous souls (or those with sufficient leverage over the denizens of the Netherworld) may retire to the various Meadows of Rest or choose reincarnation or the comforts of oblivion. Most souls simply dwell in the Netherworld as citizens, some eventually earning passage back to the world of the living via reincarnation. The truly vile are condemned to the lower levels of Hell – some say by their own guilt rather than any cosmic law – where demons of various kinds act as tormentors of the damned. The Netherworld is ruled over by the Chthonic Gods, primordial deities of earth and death and bone.

Twelve Cosmologies

Metaphysicians in Hex have a number of different cosmological models. Their speculations are largely untested, although travel between this world and others is certainly known – conjuration magic, of course, largely depends on such travel. Most of the denizens of other worlds, however, have no greater understanding as to the nature of the multiverse than do the learned cosmologists or ontologists of Hex. The following thus represents the most commonly accepted hypotheses rather than established fact, and constitute only a smattering of the many models and theories denizens of Og, and indeed the six planes of existence more broadly, have posited.

Notably missing here is any form of Elfin cosmology. The Fair Folk lack all religion save for certain forms of ancestor worship; this distaste for matters theological seems to extend to metaphysics, and when asked about how the cosmos is organized or how it came to be, most Elves respond with perplexity and indifference, wondering how anyone could possibly consider the question important. It has been suggested this may be a side-effect of Elfin egocentrism (though saying as much is not recommended in earshot of the Fair Folk themselves).

Celestial Toad Theory

According to the Dagonians, the entire multiverse is in fact being born aloft through the void by the Star Toad, an unfathomably huge being who swims the astral seas and leaps from cosmic lily pad to lily pad. The planes are in fact the Star Toad’s young, who are currently eggs being borne upon her back. These eggs will eventually hatch, ending the universe as we know it and transforming it into a new and sublime form. This is what Dagonian mystics believe occurred to Jotunheim. In Dagonian lore, the Netherworld is a stillborn larva which will never mature to adulthood, while Anathema is a form of mutant, a “rotten child”; the Mortal Plane, the Dreamlands, and Faerie, however, are coequal sibling-planes who will eventually hatch together and ascend into the void to become Star Toads themselves. This process can be assisted by observing certain spiritual and ethical axioms.

The Cosmic Web

In Lengian cosmology, the multiverse was spun into existence by the Mother of Spiders, with the Dreamlands at its centre. The other planes are in fact morsels which have become snared in the Cosmic Web. Their destiny is to be consumed by the Mother of Spiders so that the Cosmic Web can be sustained. Jotunheim, in this cosmology, managed to wriggle free from the Web and has now passed on to some distant corner of creation, beyond the Mother’s grasp. One of the Sacred Secrets of the Mother’s worship – revealed only to certain of Her most devoted nuns – is that the Lengian diaspora throughout the planes will hasten the Devouring, as the Lengians are the Mother’s literal young, implanted into the planes; eventually they will eat these planes from the inside-out, like the parasitic larvae of certain arachnids and insects.

Cultivated Universe Theory

This theory, common among Transmuters and specialists in the Old City, argues that the multiverse was not actively designed in the sense posited by Magisterialists but was rather “grown” intentionally by the Elder Species, often the Librarians specifically. As evidence for this theory, Cultivars (as the theory’s proponents are called) point to various Librarian technologies which seem to indicate such Elders were growing additional universes in this one. Many believe that Anathema is a level “above” the other five planes, as the homeworld of the Elders, though some have also argued that Anathema itself was likely cultivated by some other, even older species, possibly with no point of true origin. Certain radical Cultivar theorists claim that eventually universe-creation could be revived on the Material or other planes, producing new universes – and that perhaps, eventually, another version of Anathema will be created, which will then give rise to another version of the Elder Species, who will then cultivate universes similar to the Material, and so on ad infinitum.

Demonism

When asked about the nature of the universe, Demons describe reality in vertical terms, with the Netherworld at the base of reality, the bedrock from which all else emerges. According to Demonic metaphysics, the Netherworld is the bubbling cauldron of everything, a steaming, sizzling sea of energy which gave birth to souls, eternal beings who gradually explored the Netherworld and then began to ascend – first to the Mortal Realm and Jotunheim, where they took on physical bodies like deep-sea divers wearing suits to explore the reaches of the ocean, then on to the more rarefied realms of Faerie and the Dreamlands, and finally to the terrifying Outer Realms of Anathema. Over time, however, this grand ascent will cease and reverse, with all creation collapsing back into the Netherworld once more, perhaps forever, and darkness and death will reign illimitable.

The Godhive

The waspkin have a monist view of reality which is interestingly both broadly congruent and distinct from views such as Tenebrous Idealism or Cultivated Universe Theory. Pantheists and panpsychists, they believe that all beings, objects, matter, and spirit are enmeshed in a complexly branching network which together forms a harmonious totality, comparable to an individual consciousness, but greater than any individual creature’s mind. The Elder Trees, in this cosmology, are not “gods” as such but embodied symbols of the divine immanence of Nature, making visible what is all around us – the truth that everything is connected, and that what seem to be individual beings are ultimately One, a unity which human translators term the “Godhive,” though the waspkin have indicated the term is a rather anthropocentric rendition. In this sense, the six planes are simply parts of the Godhive – the waspkin refer to them as “Cells.” The waspkin in fact suggest that the six planes may be only the most familiar Cells of the Godhive, and that other Godhives may also exist, themselves but Cells in an even larger totality, and so on in ever larger and grander structures.

The Great Game

Cultists of the Antinomian describe the universe as a fantastically complex game which the Antinomian himself invented, played by a host of gods at the Laughing Lord’s table. Proponents of this viewpoint point to the prevalence of randomness in the universe as evidence that reality itself is governed by celestial rolls of the dice. In this theory, all living beings are essentially game pieces being moved about the “boards” of the six planes for the amusement of the Antinomian and his guests, playthings for the Lawbreaker. This view has significant overlap with the claims of Tenebrous Idealism and the Universal Play model, though followers of the Antinomian suggest that given the status of the world-as-game, it behooves us to endeavour to amuse the Laughing Mad God and his friends as best we can, in hopes that we will not be discarded.

Magisterialism

Devotees of the Magistra argue that the universe is a simulation which they believe has been programmed by an intelligence which they call the Magistra, a remote over-goddess who almost never interferes in her creation save through occasional miracles, interventions by which she rewrites the cosmic code. According to this theory, the universe is essentially a gigantic machine, an analytical engine of astonishing complexity. Magic, in the view of Magisterialists, is a way of hacking the cosmic source-code of creation, reconfiguring it for new uses. Some believe that select consciousnesses who impress the Magistra with their creativity and ingenuity will be rewarded by transcending the simulation, having their consciousnesses implanted into new forms in the upper level of reality the Magistra herself occupies. A number of Magisterialists claim that Anathema itself is not a true part of the simulation but some manner of virus introduced into the system by unknown agents. Many gnomes also hold to versions of Magisterialism.

Mythosolipsistic Subcreationism

A popular recent theory among Hexian metaphysicians, Mythosolipsistic Subcreationism, or MSS for short, advances the suggestion that all planes of reality are fundamentally extensions of humanoid consciousness. According to this theory, the Material World is generated by our conscious minds, the Netherworld is a reflection of our elemental desires and drives, the Dreamlands are generated from our anxieties, fears, and secret wishes, Faerie is a distorted manifestation of our laws, narratives, and stories, and Anathema is quite literally a plane of madness. How then, to explain Jotunheim? MSS has struggled with this errant plane, with some believing it is a kind of tumour (“overgrown”) which was somehow excised, others insisting it never truly existed and that the Behemoth bones scattered throughout the world are a kind of prank on the part of the Elder Species.

Planar Budding Theory

Originally advanced by certain fungoid thinkers, Planar Budding Theory has gained traction among a group of Hexian metaphysicians as an alternative to other popular ontologies. Like MSS it centres the Material, but holds that other planes are just as “real” as our own and not dependent on consciousness, positing that the planes formed by a process called Planar Budding, wherein a plane eventually splits in two in response to some dramatic cosmic Event. These Events have included the emergence of life and thus of death, which led to the budding of the Netherworld from the Material; the development of consciousness and unconsciousness, which led to the budding of the Dreamlands from the Material; the appearance of language and narrative, which led to the budding of Faerie from the Dreamlands; and the development of war, which led to the budding of Jotunheim from Faerie. Anathema has been posited as another budding from the Dreamlands, but some Planar Budding Theorists hold it is a second “original” universe, or possibly that the Material itself was preceded by Anathema.

The Universal Play

Followers of the Queen in Yellow have suggested that the entire universe is an intricate play being conducted by a figure they called the Dramaturge, who is himself a servant of the Queen, his patron. According to this theory, all of reality is a kind of performance being put on in the Court of Carcosa for the Queen in Yellow’s enjoyment, sustained by the divine imagination of the Queen and her courtiers. Some believe the play to be improvisational (Libertarian Carcosans), while others insist it is rigorously pre-scripted (Determinist Carcosans). Both sects suggest that the world and all within it are part of a series of metaphors or allegories – that everything from the lowliest insect to the tallest mountain is a grand Symbol and can be read as such. By becoming aware of our parts in the Universal Play and working to make it more beautiful, we may be assured of the Queen’s favour when the Play ends and we once more become fully aware of ourselves as spirits in her Court.

Tenebrous Idealism

A theory favoured by many illusionists, Tenebrous Idealism suggests that the Material World – indeed all of the planes – is an illusion, a representation, and that some deeper, untouchable reality produced or preceded it. According to Tenebrous Idealism, all levels of reality are equally real (or rather unreal), potentially including the “worlds” created by works of art or secondary illusions. Unlike Magisterialists or Carcosans, Tenebrous Idealists are highly sceptical that the fundamental noumenal reality undergirding the world of illusions could ever be reached by denizens of the six planes, believing themselves and everyone around them to be creatures of shadow and thought, ephemeral constructs in the minds of unknowable gods, who may themselves merely be representations in the minds of some other entities, and so on.

The Worldstone

As the trolls tell things, the various planes of the universe were once one, bound together in a single conglomerate, a vast rock hurtling through space known as the Worldstone. Eventually, the Worldstone fragmented into six pieces due to the stirring of Yawp, the primordial ur-giant embedded within, who formed like a geode. The largest of these fragments became Jotunheim, which circled the others for a time before colliding with the shard of Faerie and hurtling off into space. The others now orbit one another but are destined to eventually collide and break into smaller components. In the long run, however, the various shards will again coalesce back into the Worldstone, eventually producing a new Yawp who stirs and begins the cycle again, repeating events in precisely the same order as before. Fate goes ever as fate must.

Building Gossamer, Part 6 – The Blooming Quarter

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On January 29, 2021

In Roleplaying

Link to a more detailed image.

Here’s the progress so far on the city as a whole – now 75% complete, plus a few details:

The Blooming Quarter is ruled by Queen Titania, locked in an endless springtime. Colours acquire a pastel quality here – something in the softness of the light, perhaps. The weather vaccilates between the amber glow of spring sunshine and refreshing rains to keep the greenery of the Queen’s gardens forever lush. Ugliness is illegal in the Blooming Quarter, and punishable with strict fines, deportation, or death for the most serious aesthetic offenses, for though her Vernal Majesty is usually tranquil and full of grace, her temper is swift and terrible in sight of any blemish on her perfect realm, as sudden and as destructive as a spring storm; some say that despite the pleasantness of her usual demeanour, she is just as mad as her sister, Mab, but merely hides her temperament better beneath a mask of sweetness and calm.

Braidwell

The streets of Braidwell are shadowed with the looping tresses and endless curls that spill from the Plaited Tower, wherein dwells the changeling princess Persinette, favoured of Titania. Now as ageless as the other Fair Folk, Persinette was cursed by Queen Mab, one of her many vicious pranks against her sister; the poor girl’s hair began growing at an extraordinary rate, all but immobilizing her. Though no cure has been found for the curse, Titania adapted, granting her adopted daughter a home in the Plaited Tower, where vast numbers of pixies endlessly tend to her hair, combing it through the tower’s windows and out into the streets. Here, an entire district has sprung up dedicated to harvesting Persinette’s locks, transforming them into everything from wigs to rope to bowstrings to pillow-stuffing. Much of Persinette’s hair is ultimately cut in the enormous industrial salon known as the Shed, a huge factory into which her tresses are forever fed.

Dewgarden

The orchards of Dewgarden produce some of the chief exports of the Blooming Quarter – an array of enchanted fruits and vegetables, imbued with the magic of Queen Titania to ensorcel those who eat them with a variety of effects, beneficent and otherwise. Take, for example, the toothsome Speechpeach, varieties of which grant the eater knowledge of foreign tongues spoken by those whose blood was used to carefully water it, or the hearty Mule-Cabbage, which transforms the eater into a beast of burden. Within Dewgarden can also be found the Royal Menagerie, where fabulous beasts from far and wide are kept for the amusement of the Fair Folk, and the Hothouse, a gift from Oberon as a token of the friendship of Mag Mell, where certain plants found only in warmer climes can be grown.

Gumdrop Village

Perhaps the strangest district in the Blooming Quarter if not all of Gossamer, Gumdrop Village is a neighbourhood crafted entirely from candy, from the gingerbread houses with icing mortar, to the chocolate bridges spanning the canals to the pink park of the Candyfloss Forest to the quivering sublimity of the Jelly Guardian, the gigantic, child-like protector of the Village. Gumdrop Village was originally created as a retreat for Queen Titania, a kind of toy-town and place of leisure dedicated entirely to luxury and enjoyment, where her Vernal Majesty might linger with a few select maidens or youths, strolling the toffee-cobbled streets, lingering to dip a jeweled chalice into a fountain spewing honey or chocolate or cream. Peopled by living candies known as Sweetlings who rarely leave its confines, Gumdrop Village has grown since its creation, becoming not only a tourist destination but a source of considerable income for Tír na nÓg; such was the enchantment used to produce the Village that the candy used to create it forever renews itself no matter how much is eaten, resulting in a never-ending supply of confections to sate the sweet-tooths of Fair Folk throughout the four realms.

Piping

Swathed in perpetual steam, Piping is a gnomish enclave, a place of invention and refinement where Fair Folk come to eat finger sandwiches and partake of the most excellent tea, brewed in the vast Temple of Tea at thee district’s heart. Filled with cafes and teahouses such as the teetering Carafe, Piping is a marvel of engineering, more than a little mad in its crazed massings of chimneys and churning gears, but just as beautiful as the rest of the Blooming Quarter in its own peculiar way. Every building here is lacquered, gilded, or burnished; many resemble gigantic teapots themselves. Notable structures include the Fractured Palace, destroyed and rebuilt during the War of the Trees, home of the Dactyls, a legendary family of gnomes whose allegiance with Titania stretches back for centuries.

Puckville

Robin Goodfellow began his life as a humble servant of Queen Titania. Said to possess more than a drop of goblin blood, he was often shunned and mocked by his fellows at the Seelie Court. Now, however, Robin has had his revenge, for over the centuries he has slowly built himself a fortune, trading favours, acquiring properties, and growing his wealth. Now he is the richest creature in Gossamer outside of the Fairy Kings and Queens themselves, a fabulously wealthy entrepeneur. Puckville is named after him, for he built most of the district with his own funds, and still owns the majority of the buildings here, growing ever richer from the rents. The jewel of the neighbourhood is, of course, Robin’s Casino, Puck’s grand chance-house, where almost anything and everything can be wagered on games of fortune so strange and intricate only the Fair Folk and a handful of demonkind can fathom them fully. Also of note here is the Moth, an opera house and theatre, rival of the Grove in the Wilting Quarter; the two great theatres have often been known to put on duelling performances, and Puck himself has more than once graced the stage in disguise.

The Rosemaze

A defensive fortification as well as a private garden, the Rosemaze surrounds the Florid Citadel, Titania’s palace in Gossamer. Though her Vernal Majesty spends much of her time elsewhere in her realm, the Citadel is her home in the city and headquarters of the Petal Guard. The Rosemaze itself is a seemingly infinite labryinth of twisting paths; many such lead to strange an unexpected places, including to other corners of Faerie, to the Dreamlands, and even to the Feypark in the city of Hex. The entire place is maintained by the Greenskeepers, an army of labourers – mostly pixies and goblins living in the Weeds – who ensure its eternal splendour. The Queen herself can often be found pacing the branching endlessness of the Rosemaze, pondering affairs of state.

The Weeds

The beautous folk of Tír na nÓg dislike hard labour, the toil and sweat by which their exquisite realm is maintained, for such drudgery callouses the hands, wrenches the backbone, and inflicts all manner of other deformations. Yet, this toil must be done, one way or another. The solution, Queen Titania realized, was to import the labour required. Many goblins, pixies, trollbloods, and other creatures from the Unseelie Court covet lies free from the cruelty of Mab and Arawn. Such immigrants are not normally granted citizenship in Tír na nÓg, for many are too ugly, according to Seelie standards, to ever join the Vernal Realm. However, an exception is made for those willing to dwell in the Weeds, a permanent labour camp and shanty-town at the outskirts of the Blooming Quarter. Here, the Queen’s Petal Guard issue no fines for aesthetic deficiencies – provided the inhabitants show up to work on time and perform their manifold duties diligently. A rambling warren of crime and poverty, the Weeds is a black spot on the beauty of the Blooming Quarter, but a necessary one; consequently, it has been nicknamed the “Beauty Mark.” Hidden amidst the district, it is said, is the secret headquarters of the Pest, an underground goblin liberation movement dedicated to overthrowing the Fair Folk’s rule altogether and establishing an independent Goblin Commonwealth in Elfhame.

Building Gossamer, Part 5 – The Withered Quarter

By

On December 30, 2020

In Roleplaying

Gossamer is now half complete, with the Withered Quarter – the section of Gossamer which lies in Annwn, realm of eternal winter and land of the dead, ruled by the dread Arawn – now looming brumous and frostbitten east of the Wilting Quarter.

Link to a more detailed image.

Crookhollow

The sinister little village of Crookhollow is a settlement of woodwoses, a rare colony of mortals in Elfhame. Once denizens of the Gnarl, these woodwoses are unusually settled, unlike their nomadic kindred of the deep woods. The wildmen are worshippers of Arawn, lord of the dead, and practice regular sacrifices by fire, setting ablaze vast effigies containing captive enemies – often mortals kidnapped from the woods at the borderlands of Faerie. Such burnt offerings ensure a place of honour for the denizens of Crookhollow when they die, as they shrug off their rude hides and furs for the resplendant finery of the elfin dead, joining the Fair Folk in their subterannean palaces of stone to live afterlives of langour and gloomy opulence.

Drakesworth

Before Gossamer sprawled to its present size, the district now known as Drakesworth was a barren country shadowed by a dark crag, lair of the horror known as Svafnir, a dragon said to hail from the giant-world of Jotunheim. This monster, naturally, possessed a vast hoard of treasure, and slew all who tried to plunder his trove. The beast, however, had grown somewhat lazy over the long years, spending much of its time dreaming of its lost homeland on its bed of gold, and over time the city spread nearly to its doorstep. Eventually, the Fair Folk struck a deal with the dragon – rather than sending in an endless series of hopeless champions to slay Svafnir or steal its treasures, they would simply borrow from the hoard, repaying what they took with interest. Though initially sceptical, the dragon was intrigued. Thus the Hoardsbank was founded: now the foremost financial institution in Elfhame, the size of its assets having increased many hundreds of times over since its founding. Tunnels wind endlessly into the earth, filled with the gold earned by the bank, while Svafnir has recovered somewhat from his planesickness, taking to his new life as a moneylending wyrm. Some whisper that the dragon is the true master of the Withered Quarter, having grown far richer even the the Horned King. Whatever the case, Drakesworth is now one of the most salubrious districts in all of Gossamer, filled with fine buildings of stone and marble, the offices of much of the city’s professional class. Also within Drakesworth is the Temple of the Royal Sepulchre, resting place of the Royal Family of Elfhame. Here can be found the shades of the former monarchs of Faerie, resting after their centuries of rule, dispensing wisdom to heroes of renown and Faerie’s present rulers.

The Gnarl

Though currently in a state of uneasy peace, Annwn and Tír na nÓg have not always been so. During the War of the Trees, Annwn launched an invasion of Tír na nÓg, and Gossamer – usually neutral even during conflicts – became a battleground. After Queen Titania’s armies drove the Shade-Horde back into the Winter Realm, she launched a counterattack, calling on the forest itself to rise to her banner. Thousands of treefolk marched at the behest of the Queen of Flowers, invading Annwn. In Gossamer, this incursion was turned back at the Gullet and the central canal, but for all their efforts, the armies of Arawn were unable to fully repel the treefolk invaders. Thus the southern edge of the Withered Quarter has become the Gnarl: a sprawling wood in the heart of the city, full of twisting, labyrinthine paths, mossgrown ruins, and secret glades. Though most of the treefolk have since fallen back into slumber, some still stand sentinel against any future invasion, including their general, Grandfather Yew. Rangers sworn to Titania’s service, known as the Petal Guard, also patrol the shifting trails and lurk in wait should intruders seek entrance to the Blooming Quarter without leave. Within the depths of the woods it is said one can also find the tower of Myrddin, a mortal mage native to the wizardly city of Hex, whose manse has many doors and many manifestations, and whose knowledge of matters arcane rivals even that of the Fair Folk themselves.

The Grimdowns

On the surface, the misty mounds of the Grimdowns seem but a few snowy crags, topped with the tomb-markers of the dead. In fact, the district is by far the most populous in all of Gossamer, for each and every mound leads down into the grand Necropolis of the city, a seemingly infinite warren that sprawls throughout the Withered Quarter, deep into the earth, filled with the uncountable souls of the dead. All who die in Elfhame manifest as shades in Annwn, and many come here to the Withered Quarter for at least some of their endless days and nights. Despite its vastness, however, the Necropolis is a quiet, dusty place, for the shades lack the energy of life – without the thought of their own deaths motivating them, most shades are slow, contented beings, either tranquil or melancholic, mere echoes of their previous selves. Entry into the catacombs of the Necropolis is granted only to the dead; the living may visit the tombs and leave offerings, even trading certain objects with the dead, but they may not walk the unending tunnels or gaze on the subterannean wonders of the city of the dead that lies beneath their feet.

The Gullet

Before the realm of Annwn was ruled by the Dread Lord Arawn, the Horned King, it had a different sovereign: the dark being known as Crom Cruach, the Head of the Mound, the Devouring Worm, an entity said to be one of Chthonic Gods, demon-princes of the Netherworld, and rumoured to be brother of the Charnel Goddess Mordiggia. Crom Cruach’s rule ended many centuries ago during the reign of High Queen Nicnevan, when he was sealed deep in the bowels of the earth, buried alive by the Elves. Despite his defeat, however, Crom Cruach is still worshipped in the Withered Quarter by a small coterie of cambions, half-elfin and half-demon cultists. The Cult controls the district of the Withered Quarter known as the Gullet, whose buildings are older than almost any in Gossamer – warped and twisted into quasi-organic forms, their very stones seem to grow and reshape themselves like living things. Though the Cult of Crom Cruach acknowledge the sovereignty of Arawn, they keep their own laws and customs, and have been known to bicker with the neighbouring folk of Crookhollow, sometimes snatching woodwoses who stray too near to the tenebrous avenues of their fell domain.

Howling

Rising above the Grimdowns is the dark castle of Caer Sidi, fortress and home of the Dread Lord Arawn himself, Horned King of Annwn. Carved from never-thawing ice, this grim citadel has never been taken in war, manned by an unblinking garrison of the dead, the formidible revenant-warriors known as the Cauldron-Born, who were raised many centuries past by the Sacred Cauldron, one of the legendary Thirteen Treasures of Elfhame. The area around the castle is known as Howling, for it perpetually echoes with the bestial voices of the Cŵn Annwn, wraith-hounds of Arawn, who form part of the legendary Wild Hunt, which, as part of the terms of the peace with Hell, returns souls from the Netherworld who escape the bounds of Hell for Faerie or the mortal realm. Some claim that those who hear their fell voices lose a year of their allotted lifespan.

The Sty

Enclave of ogres, trolls, and their half-mortal kindred, the Sty is a ramshackle sprawl clustered on the western edge of the Withered Quarter, and one of the poorer districts in Gossamer. The district is named for the hogs raised and slaughtered in the abbatoirs here, chief industry of the neighbourhood. A rare few such swine are not killed, for all pigs are first subjected to tests when they are young to determine whether they possess oracular abilities; hogs born in the Withered Quarter, here at the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead, can sometimes exhibit divinatory power. Such beasts can prophesy the weal or woe of many things, and upon dying their entrails and bladders are inspected by the district’s sage haruspexes and choriomancers to discern secrets of great import. Also of note in the Sty is the gigantic mead-hall known as The Golden Hog, a gilded statue which some claim is in fact a petrified dire boar from Jotunheim; though a rough and tumble place, its feasts are the stuff of legend. Those who venture into the Sty are advised to go armed and in groups after dark, for bands of unsavoury giantkin such as the Needleteeth, the Rednails, and the Gutprickers roam the shadowed alleys at night and are rumoured to snatch the odd visitor for their stew-pots; separating the truth of such rumours from anti-troll prejudices is difficult, but certainly the neighbourhood has been the site of many blood-feuds and street-brawls.

Building Gossamer, Part 4 – The Wilting Quarter

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On August 7, 2020

In Roleplaying

After a couple of months of sporadic work, the Wilting Quarter is now complete, making Gossamer 25% done. Next up will be the Withered Quarter, Arawn’s domain, the wintry section of the city directly east of the Wilting Quarter, across the osseous Spinebridge. In upcoming posts, I’ll also be detailing how I populate districts with additional details; below is just a rough outline of the major landmarks and purpose of each neighbourhood.

Link to a more detailed image.

The Wilting Quarter is the section of the city ruled by Queen Mab, the Autumnal Sovereign, and thus lies in the realm of Logris. Its districts are dedicated to pleasures and skullduggery, dark delights and forbidden knowledge. Practices the Seelie Court find unsavoury can be celebrated openly in the Wilted Quarter; the laws are few and enforced but rarely by the Queen’s rancid guards, with most disputes being settled with jocular duels which become yet another form of public entertainment.

The Brambles

Originally grown as a defensive fortification to repel invaders from Mag Mell, the Brambles have become a den of iniquity and vice. Poisons are openly bought and sold throughout the district, most notably from the garden of Caprice the witch, which sprawls at the neighbourhood’s pungent heart – a verdant grove of hemlock and nightshade. Blades for hire and assassins can also be found throughout the Brambles, including the near-mythic Nettles, an ancient guild of professional killers whose opulent, temple-like headquarters lies just a few blocks east of the imposing towers of the Thorn Gate. Most infamous of the Nettles are the twin sprite assassins Hellebore and Belladonna, known for such gruesome escapades as the Pigeon Pie Massacre, in which the pair hid themselves in the hollowed-out ceremonial pigeon pie at a banquet in Mag Mell, only to spring from the crust and slay half a dozen elfin nobles before the wine was poured.

Goblin Town

As a rule, the Fair Folk shun most modern technology, scorning the steam-engines and clockwork used by mortals. Goblins, however, are a notable exception, and their shambolic ghetto in the midst of the Wilted Quarter is a seething, stinking swelter of acrid smoke and hissing machines. Though far short of the industrial capacity of cities like Hex and Erubescence, the factories of Goblin Town churn out all manner of strange devices, from repeating crossbows to fireworks to crude pistols to mechanical traps to clockwork toys. Many of these are built from scrap metal and other oddments salvaged from the junkyard in the southern part of the district, the city’s garbage-tip for inorganic waste. The west side of Goblin Town also features a number of fighting pits and monster-gardens, populated with creatures from the wilds of Elfhame and beyond; many such creaturea are bought and sold in the Beast Market.

Grosscastle

The Fomorians used to number among Mab’s favoured peoples: giants, originally hostages in the Enormity Wars between Elfhame and Jotunheim, become the soldiers and servants of the Unseelie Court. They lost their status when their chieftain, King Balor, sought to depose Mab herself and claim Logris for his own, a plan foiled by Mab, resulting in the exile of Balor and his people to the mortal realm. Their ancient fortress of Grosscastle, once the primary military fortification in the Wilting Quarter, now lies empty and moss-eaten, for Mab cursed the castle such that any who slumbers in its depths will be driven mad with nightmares, waking in a frenzy and attacking those about them as if they were monstrous imposters; such was the fate of many Fomorians who succumbed to the spell on the eve of Balor’s would-be coup. Though the fortress remains ungarrisoned, adventurers sometimes venture into its shattered halls in search of the forgotten treasures of the Fomorians, for the giants were renowned for their craftsmanship and magic, and many of their wondrous creations can still be found within the cyclopean bowels of Grosscastle.

Horripilation Circus

Elves and Demons have never quite seen eye to eye, not because of their differences but rather their similarities – a narcissism of small differences often intrudes on relations betwixt Faerie and Hell, and due to the Truce and the Tithe of Souls Elfhame pays the Archdemons, the two are largely content to ignore one another, save for the occasional bickering between Annwn and infernal psychopomps over the fate of certain shades of the dead. Of the various Elfin realms, however, Logris maintains the strongest relationship with the Netherworld, as evinced by Horripilation Circus: a demoniac carnival, put on as entertainment for Queen Mab, a kind of gift to the Lady of Logris from Hecate, one of the dethroned sovereigns of Hell usurped by the Commonwealth of Pandemonium. The circus is a multiversal menagerie involving conjured horrors, otherworldly delicacies, surreal magical specatcles, and a panoply of other pleasures both subtle and gross. Many of the performers are demons; others are damned souls, mortals who have made pacts with the fell powers, and other outcasts, grotesques, and oddities culled from the dark corners of the cosmos.

Rotting Hill

Queen Mab herself is often found in the Wilted Quarter. When Her Moldy Majesty is present in Gossamer, she dwells within the Putrescent Palace, a grotesque fortress perched atop Rotting Hill – a reeking mass of lichenous rock, fruiting bodies, and decomposing vegetation. The Palace itself is a madhouse: crazed corridors loop and twist at impossible angles, packs of wild dogs roam from room to room in search of carrion, inscrutable clocks count the hidden hours of Elfhame, and the mad, laughing, blood-stained Queen herself presiding over it all, along with her numerous fetches, supernatural doubles through whose eyes she sees. The dungeons of the Palace are said to be a labyrinth of impossible depth and complexity, a warren of oubliettes and torture chambers in which prisoners and gaolors hunt one another in bizarre cat-and-mouse chases, sometimes seemingly changing roles and identities as all sense and sanity break down.

Shroomsbury

A district of alchemists and physicians, Shroomsbury is absolutely infested with gigantic fungi of every conceivable variety (and several inconceivable ones), their spores used to produce medicines and potions, as well as many of the poisons sold in the Brambles and the drugs sold in Wormwood. The district is notable for Napping Nog, a giant attacker who was laid low by soporific spores, fallen into a seemingly eternal coma; fungi have grown over his slumbering body, which has also become the centre of its own small neighbourhood. A stonesthrow from Nog lies the Collegium Gargantua, one of Gossamer’s few institutions of higher learning, founded with the mission of studying the sleeping giant; the Elfin enchanters at the Collegium have performed a wide variety of experiments on their softly snoring specimen, including entering the creature’s dreams to quite literally pick its brains for secrets of the primordial Jotnar. At the southern edge of the district lies the Red-Juice Sickhouse, a kind of hospital and laboratory where patients are treated with cures generated from the bodies of fungoid nurses – often with bizarre magical side-effects, to the continued fascination of the Fair Folk chirurgeons. Patients have been known to emerge from the Sickhouse with broken bones set or illnesses treated, while also beginning to age backwards, or acquiring strange phobias, or losing their shadows. Some have reported continuing to grow far beyond the heights typical of their species; others have complaned of developing “backup” ears and eyes; of being afflicted with wereslug therianthropy; of losing their childhood memories in exchange for those of others; of discovering the physicians have produced clonal copies of their bodies for disreputable purposes; and a myriad of other complaints. Still, there’s no arguing with results.

Wormwood

Little remains of the enchanted forest of Wormwood that preceded the Wilting Quarter, but one small neighbourhood preserves something of its eerie charms. Gossamer’s pleasure district, the place is home to numerous theatres, most notably the magnificent open-air Grove theatre, where plays older than some planes are regularly performed with elaborate ceremony, along with the latest bawdy satyr-plays and other lewd comedies, often skewering Faerie’s elites. Taverns, drug-dens, and cafes also abound, many serving absinthe, the signature drink of the district, in honour of the Green Fairy, an ancient member of the Fair Folk who can often be found roaming the verdurous streets, bewitching passersby with intoxicating illusions. Undoubtedly the centrepiece of the district is the gorgeous Nymphaeum. To call this temple of sensuous delights a “brothel” would almost be slanderous, for it is a shrine to hedonism, run by the descendants of the nymphs and satyrs who once dwelt in the ancient wood and have now adapted to city life; the overgrown pleasure-palace is an opulent world unto itself, as expensive as it is decadently luxurious. Finally, Wormwood is also the location of the Nest, a wyvern-aerie. The beasts have long ago been tamed by the locals, becoming far smaller in size and less ferocious in demeanor than their forebears; indeed, it is practically a faux-pas for a well-to-do Elf not to own a jewel-scaled dwarf wyvern, used much as mortals do a hunting hawk.

Building Gossamer, Part 3 – Wormwood

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On May 24, 2020

In Roleplaying

Gossamer begins to take shape. I moved south from Shroomsbury into Wormwood and the eastern edges of the Brambles. With 8 pages done, I am now nearly halfway through the Wilting Quarter, and 10% through the city overall.

Wormwood is a sort of urban forest, and also a pleasure-district – a maze of roots and mossy bridges and winding streets, ornate spires emerging from a miasma of perfume and psychedelic mist, all of it overgrown with trees and foliage. As with Shroomsbury, I decided on a few landmarks. Firstly, I wanted a wyvern nest, the beasts domesticated so that their venom would be milked and diluted into one of many potent drugs consumed in the district, many others coming from Shroomsbury to the north. Second, a theatre – I went with an Elizabethan-looking structure, the Grove. Finally I put in the lavish, over-the-top Nymphaeum, somewhere between a shrine and a brothel.

The economic function of the Wilting Quarter is taking shape. Drugs, reagents, poisons, potions – the district is about transformation and liminal states, which fits with the autumn theme of Logris, the fairy realm of Mab. I’m thinking this theme will be echoed in a different way in the part of the city ruled by Titania, Queen of Spring, in the southeast, opposite Mab’s domain.

Next up will be finishing off the bottom corner and the Brambles, a thorn-swathed slum, district of assassins and thieves. It’s also going to include a sprawling witch’s garden where various poisonous herbs are cultivated.

The city as a whole now looks like this:

I was also thinking about how the Quarters will connect to one another – I may end up putting a big bridge between the Wilting Quarter and the Withered Quarter, the wintry section that will be directly east of this part. There’s a nice untaken spot off Deepshade square that would be easy to graft the bridge to without a lot of finnicky re-drawing. Once I’m finished with the Wilted Quarter I’ll likely move clockwise, moving through the Winter, Spring, and finally Summer sections of the city.

Building Gossamer, Part 2 – Shroomsbury

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On May 21, 2020

In Roleplaying

Four pages into mapping, the results look like this:

Even at this stage I needed to make some adjustments to the image – tiny misalignments, a paper slightly askew here, a scanning margin there, all meant that to make the images mesh I needed to expand and contract parts of the map, add a stairway here and a cluster of fungi there. This can be fiddly, but in some ways there’s a silver lining – these sorts of realignments tend to further disguise the gaps between pages and give the final result a slightly more organic look while still preserving the overall design.

With the images digitally sewn together, I then started adding names. I sometimes have a list of street ideas jotted down, but generally I make them up as I go. I named the giant (Napping Nog) and labelled a few especially important landmarks. There was some space left around some larger structures, so I decided retroactively to make these notable locations, labelling them the Wheezing Tower and the Collegium Gargantua – I’ll figure out details for these locations later, but the Colelgium will likely be a school focused on sleep-magic and psychedelic enchantments, while the tower might belong to a wizardly cabal. Making “discoveries” like this preserves a certain sense of spontaneity during the process.

Up next I’ll be starting a new district – possibly Wormwood, Rotting Hill, or the Brambles.

Building Gossamer, Part 1 – Overall Concept

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On May 20, 2020

In Roleplaying

I’m drawing a new city – Gossamer, capital city of Elfhame – and thought this would be a good opportunity to show my process for desgining and mapping fantasy cities. This is something of a companion post to “How I Run a Citycrawl Campaign.”

Overall Concept

I start by thinking of the overall concept for the city – who rules it, what its economic and political purpose is, what its overall shape should be, its overall aesthetic, and which historical cities I can take as models. For Hex, I knew I wanted to create a magical university town, I knew I wanted the city to be shaped like a hexagon cut through by a river, and I took some broad inspiration from cities like London, Rome, and my home city of Vancouver. For Erubescence I knew I wanted to construct a vampiric capitol where the Night Queen traps her nobles at court with water (since vampires can’t cross it), and the idea of a pentagram stuck in my mind; my real-world references were Venice and Paris, with a little bit of St. Petersburg.

Gossamer, the Big Cobweb, is going to be the central metropolis of Elfhame, placed at the converge of the four realms of Logris, Annwn, Tír na nÓg, and Mag Mell (Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer). I want it to be literally cut into four, with two rivers carving the realms up, their confluence serving as the site of the city. Since I like giving cities a distinctive shape, and since I’ve picked the name Gossamer for the capitol, I’ve decided to make the city look like a giant cobweb, with canals taking the place of the webbing. This design is partly inspired by Amsterdam and Bruges, the two cities that I’ll be taking most of my visual cues from this time. The canals of Amsterdam were originally a series of defensive moats that slowly transformed into commercial waterways, which I’ll use as the basis for the web-like design in Gossamer.

https://i.redd.it/b4fjfdym4rm31.jpg
This map is astoundingly good.

Getting Started

The idea of the city will be that there are four major “quarters” to it, each technically a different country. Gossamer will thus have a bit of the vibe of somewhere like East/West Berlin and other “divided cities” (this is partly inspired by The City and the City, which I’m teaching this summer). Each of the four quarters will have a different ruler, different laws, and a starkly different feel to it. They’ll also need a unique visual identity, so that while the map looks like one city overall, the quarters also feel quite distinct from one another. In the very middle of the city where the quarters meet will be a dockyard and bazaar.

I decided to start with Mab’s quarter, the Wilting Quarter, a borough of eternal autumn and decay. I jotted down some prospective names of districts: Rotting Hill, Grosscastle, Shroomsbury, the Wartward, the Brambles, Wormwood, and Horripilation Circus. For each of these I made notes on how I wanted each district to look, and its purpose within the city. For example, Shroomsbury, the district I’m starting with, is going to be the fungoid district, will have giant toadstool structures, and will be a significant manufacturer of drugs and potions – the alchemist’s district as well. This means it’ll include lots of wizard’s towers, laboratories, and similar places, but it will also be an organic sprawl of buildings and fungi (I picked this first because I figured it’d be fun and easy to draw – a good starting point).

To make sure that the map coheres, my first step is to find a pattern that fits my picture of the city. After some quick googling I was able to produce this:

This will be the “blueprint” for the Wilted Quarter.

Which, when resized and printed off, becomes this:

The madness begins again.

Each of these sections is numbered so that I know how they fit together. I now have a bluprint for the city and can begin actually drawing, placing the map over each section so that the shape of the canals is maintained. I began in the top right-hand corner. After some consideration I’ve decided that the Wilting Quarter does not have walls, but like Bruges uses waterways for defense (I think the Mag Mell and Annwn sections – names not yet determined – might have walls). I want this part of the city to be a sprawl, with structures throughout even the large sections without canals along the edges – indeed, these hinterlands will be the location of the Fairy Queens’ and Kings’ palaces, as far from their rivals as possible.

With a blueprint ready, I then sketched out roughly where each of the seven districts within the Wilting Quarter would be placed. The four “inner” districts will be the Wartward, Wormwood, the Brambles, and Shroomsbury, while the “outer” districts will include Rotting Hill, Grosscastle, and Horripilation Circus, since those districts will benefit from having more space – the first will be a mansion-encrusted hill, the second a series of gigantic ruins built by the exiled Fomorians, and the third will be a sort of demonic amusement park.

District 1: Shroomsbury

With the basics sketched out, I started drawing.

I use the blueprint to guide the drawing and keep track of things like canal position and which district goes where.

As each section is completed, I scan the results and tweak contrast. The result looks like this, for one page of the map. This section will take 20 pages, which means the overall map will be 80 pages.

I really enjoy drawing fungi.

One down, 79 to go. Shroomsbury needs some more landmarks, something to make it stand out apart from just being made of fungi. I brainstormed some ideas, including:

  • A giant who has been lulled into sleep by the psychedelic spores and now has buildings and fungi built all over him. I do have a giant head already in Erubescence (a zombified trophy), but I like the idea that this visual links the two cities, who were frequent allies in wars with the Giants before the Seven Years’ Mischief sundered the peace. I also like placing “passive threats” in my cities, like swords of Damocles – things that PCs could “set off” if they disturb, like the infectious Thornmaze in Erubescence or the protoplasmic monster in the Warded Ward in Hex.
  • A giant compost heap/garbage tip, essentially the cesspits and mass graves of the city, which can of course spawn all sorts of monsters and threats.
  • Since this is the alchemists’ and apothecaries’ district, a fungal hospital or leper house could be interesting, where patients go to have experimental cures involving bizarre growths and drugs.

I then drew the next page of the city, adding in the fungal hospital. This requires some care, lining things up with the precious page, like so:

Scan, boost contrast, reduce light a little, and the second page looks like this:

Now I simply edit these two pages together. I like to perform some minor tweaks at this point to make sure the pieces segue smoothly. I place broader streets at the join between areas, while occasionally interrupting those streets with diagonal canals or long buildings to disguise the fact I’m piecing the maps together as a series of 8.5/11″ pages.

When I add the first two pages together they look like this:

Looking back to the blueprint, I’ve now drawn the first two pages on the top right corner.

In subsequent posts, I’ll share progress on this map as I complete districts and quarters. I’m going to be starting with Shroomsbury in its entirety, and then we’ll spread out from there. Once Shroomsbury is done I’ll get into labelling and naming things, and then start to brainstorm more ideas for the adjacent districts – I have thoughts for each of them, but the specifics aren’t fully worked out, which is part of the fun.

How Detailed is Too Detailed: Granularity vs. Practicality

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On January 7, 2018

In Roleplaying

I have also asked this over on Google+.

In light of positive reactions to the map here, on reddit, and on Google+, I’ve started seriously thinking about putting together a setting book to accompany the map of Hex. Consequently I’ve been looking over my notes on Hex. My plan at this point for each district of the city is to provide an overview description, plus possible encounters and adventure hooks for each area.

However, I’m wondering which the following two approaches would be better to flesh the districts out:

1) A detailed, street-by-street description, as if the city were a dungeon. I have this level of granularity for several districts already in my notes, though not all. This is generally seen as a bonkers approach to cities, but so is spending a year drawing a map by hand with every building in the city, so I’ve already crossed that particular Rubicon of lunacy.

My worry here is that this might be too much even for the most detail-oriented DM, and it could make a setting book harder to use since it’s a bit harder to find the detail you’re looking for quickly, generally a must for any sort of roleplaying product.

On the other hand, it would make the city entirely 100% playable with minimal prep, and it seems to fit with the “maximalist” approach of the map. If it were organized right it might not be as unfeasible.

2) A slightly lighter approach picking out the most important buildings and features of a district for the DM – major temples, taverns, shops, universities – etc. There’d still be detail, but the street-by-street description would be absent. This might be more usable in the long run, but there’d be a loss of detail.

So, for example, following this approach the reader would know about the particulars of the Witching Hour Alehouse, important neutral haven for thieves, and its mystic, tatoo-keyed portal to the numinous Midnight Market, but wouldn’t necessarily know that in Chough Alley there is a family of spiderfolk weavers exiled from Cobweb Cliffs for their ancestor’s crimes, or that an illicit alchemist on Widdershins Way sells memory-modification potions.

What do you think? Which would you want more – full granularity, or slightly-zoomed out?

Hex: Overview

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On January 5, 2018

In Roleplaying

Hex 001

Endless shelves filled with hieroglyph-graven tablets of primeval metal stretch for miles beneath the earth, down aeons-old tunnels that curve and twist in ways that make the mind ache, plunging into cavernous archive-chambers and coiling in upon themselves like impossible stone snakes. Within this lightless immensity the knowledge of the inscrutable Librarians – visitors to this world, now departed or dead – is meticulously recorded, written in gleaming books and upon monoliths of incomprehensible size, arranged according to a system so alien and maddeningly complex that none have ever deciphered it fully. This the First Library, the Old City which drew explorers and scholarly spelunkers from many lands, daring the uncanny and dangerous depths where tenebrous things now lair, seeking for the secrets buried deep in the incalculably ancient labyrinth.

Many centuries have passed since those first sojourns underground, and now a new city thrives atop the old: Hex, the Inkstained City, the City of Secrets. A six-sided sprawl, this centre of magical learning is home to some of the world’s finest institutions of arcane education: the Académie Macabre, Fiend’s College, Umbral University, the Institute of Omens, the Warders’ Lyceum, the Citadel of the Perpetual Storm, the Metamorphic Scholarium, and Master Melchior’s School of Thaumaturgy & Enchantment. Magi, wizards, sorcerers, warlocks, and witches can be found in the winding streets, flocking to the source of esoteric lore with which reality itself can be reshaped. Vast libraries containing translations and interpretations of the alien glyphs of the Old City fill the towers of the city.

Hex came into being slowly. With the first influx of the wise and wealthy came others: librarians and archivists, of course, but also scribes and scriveners, porters and couriers, mercenaries and bodyguards, concubines and cooks, and other servants – and then, later, book-sellers, parchment-makers, ink-dealers, quill-cutters, vintners, and ale-brewers. These were followed by dockworkers and grooms and tailors and victuallers and masons, and later by craftsmen and labourers and merchants of every sort. Soon what had begun as a few remote camps and archeological digs became a fully-fledged campus that later fractured and flourished and overgrew its boundaries, till one day the seething, scribbling enormity of Hex came into being.

Now Hex is a modern metropolis, teeming with traders and cutthroats and decadents. Gaslight, buzzing electric lamps, and glimmering magical crystals bathe faces both beautiful and vile in their variegated glow. The universities have become vast – huge, ornate, and unthinkably wealthy, their spires stab at a sky now criss-crossed by flitting familiars and hot air balloons and skycabs drawn by hippogriffs, manticores, or dock-tailed wyverns. Trade bustles along the banks of the Radula River while alchemists culture homunculi in their cauldrons and necromancers reanimate the corpses of the poor to labour in the city’s churning factories. Temples to a hundred deities burn sacrifices and fill the air with weird chants, prayers to strange and sometimes malformed gods inspired by the primordial pantheon of the Librarians. Above them all the wizards still scribble in their spellbooks, while deep below, adventurers plumb the twisted darkness in search of yet more secrets.

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