Aripasts City in Central Funnundia
The “Old City” was built on a rectangular artificial island,
encompassing several hundred acres and surrounded by a moat nearly
200 yards wide. The moat is crossed by bridges at the corners,
each leading to a gatehouse generally in the form of a massive
crowned head. The “mouth” in each head gapes open, large
enough to allow the passage of mounted riders and wagons two
abreast. The ruins of hinges indicate that gates used to be
set behind the mouths, but there is no practical way to bar traffic
now.
There was originally a wall some 15 feet high set just back of the
moat, but it is largely in ruins, and in many spots has simply
fallen into the moat. The moat itself is not intact along its
entire length; the Viratha River, which flows by the city into the
sea, has shifted close enough to the moat to make it a de facto
oxbow, and there is a large breach in the northeast corner (by the
Govatharna Gate) where the moat has dried up. For all
practical purposes, the city is currently indefensible.
Generally, the city’s architecture is very florid, with innumerable
bas-reliefs, garland and wolf motifs carved into virtually every
square foot of every stone surface, as well as rippling effects
designed to mimic flames, feathers, leaves and other patterned
surfaces. Much of these are weathered to the point where it is
not always easy to tell what more subtle exterior bas-reliefs
depict. Staircases are steep, 45 degrees or more.
Surviving construction is of sandstone and limestone, with some rare
granite.
Nearly half of the city has not yet been cleared of the thick forest
that covered the island in the forgotten centuries, and it is
illegal to do so without supervision by the Company of Guards, the Upuaut
priests and the College of Mages; pockets of the Unlife still emerge
from newly unsealed and opened crypts and other fissures deep in the
forgotten earth. In consequence, the Old City is patrolled
around the clock by guard detachments augmented by priests and the
occasional Witherer of San Guiskwain,
an arrangement leading to much tension. A number of groups
sponsor archeological digs on the site, and great riches - and great
horrors - are still unearthed, over 30 years since Telmora’s
rediscovery.
Herewith a list of some of the more significant landmarks. The
names given to them are modern-day, and not contemporaneous; almost
no paper records have been unearthed in the sub-tropical climate.
Wendelin Gate: The gatehouse in the northwest
corner is of sandstone wrought in the shape of a massive crowned
head - large enough to drive a wagon or ride a horse through the
“mouth” - with an observation chamber set behind the
“forehead.” Restored inscriptions indicate this is of the
Empress Wendelin III.
Flaring Gate: This is the southwest gatehouse, the
one leading to the “New City” and therefore the principal current
route into the Old City. The flanking towers are surfaced with
giant weathered heads and impassive features. It is unknown
who these represent; they do not match any mythological
representations or dignitaries known to the era. Restored
arches over the towers are of tiled flames, with restored silver and
brass inlay. The bridge itself is heavily decorated in dragon
motif, with carved rippling scales set into the sides and the
pediment itself.
Victory Gate: This is the southeast
gatehouse. Unusually, the head’s crown is depicted with tines
of swords, something not found in contemporary depictions. The
restored inscription indicates this gate is in honor of “the mighty
victory over the barbarous Ferotiri,” from which people have given
the gate its name; no indication as to the ruler depicted has been
found, and there is considerable scholarly dispute as to just who
the “Ferotiri” were. The causeway and bridge are in ruins and
have not yet been restored. It is possible for a nimble (and
reckless) person to cross without a dunking, although breaking an
ankle is more of a risk than getting wet.
Govatharna Gate: This gatehouse, in the northeast,
depicts the Emperor Govatharna. It is in ruins and has not yet
been restored; only rubble remains of the causeway and bridge.
Since the bulk of the uncleared forest is in the northeast of the
Old City, the priority for repairs is low.
Plaza of the Elephants: A great, round plaza in
front of Palace Mount, with perfectly fitted butcher’s block
pavement of white marble (with a few sections plainly repaired with
a slightly different color). Weathered sandstone statues of
elephants rim the Plaza, from which solar rays etched into the
marble lead to the Cenotaph.
Cenotaph: A tall, hollow obelisk of granite
sheathed in limestone, marked with bas-reliefs so faded as to not
really be able to make out what they represent. A broad
archway leads into the interior, which has been recently hung with
old battle banners and Upuaut religious iconography.
Palace Mount: This was fully restored a generation
ago by the current Prince’s father, at great expense. This has
led to widespread (and ongoing) rumors that the Prince plans to
relocate his capitol to old Telmora, a scheme heartily disliked by
the bulk of the populace and decried as vainglory run amok.
The palace building itself is in three stories, in heavily reliefed
gypsum-clad sandstone. The towers are all clad in gold leaf,
but that was done a generation ago too, and the leaf is wearing a
bit thin. The roof edge is surrounded by an intricate brass
grillwork, which is duplicated slightly higher up on the roof for a
terraced effect.
The great mound on which the palace rests has been reshaped and
resurfaced, with a fresh facing of glazed yellow brick to replace
what’s believed to be the original facing. The two stairs
leading up from the Plaza of the Elephants are very steep, nearly at
a 45o angle, and are heavily weathered; traversing them is difficult
when it’s raining, something that happens a good bit in this damp
climate.
The vast throne hall is decked in black marble with crimson velvet
hangings and a gallery rebuilt in rose granite, with one of the
great surviving treasures of ancient Telmora before the throne dais;
a life-size alabaster bull with gilded horns. The Governor’s
seat is set two steps down from the peak of the dais, so as not to
presume imperial airs. The original throne is wrought of pale
green jade and is largely ruined, although there are plans to
restore it; it is heavily carved in ancient elven runes and is
thought to be elven in origin.
The Governor is Lady Filti dy Portain, an influential socialite
entering her middle age. She is long widowed, and prefers the
social butterfly life of the capitol - the finest of foods, the most
brilliant of entourages, fine music, exquisite plays, dazzling
levees. While she is popular among the few aristocrats for her
(calculated) largesse, the poor and unfortunate are well beneath her
sight line. She took the post in the first place expecting it
to be a plum, has found much less scope for graft and her pleasures
as she fancied, and hopes for a recall to the capital soon.
The Governor’s chief administrative officer, Sir Horgil Pinnath is
an ex-military man who dresses to perfection, stands as straight as
on a parade ground and holds strongly to tradition, regulations and
precedent. While he doesn’t look the part - he has an open,
friendly face and a superficially pleasant manner - he’s a sour old
man far before his time, patronizing and condescending to anyone he
fancies is beneath his station.
The commander of the eighty-man Company of Guards, Captain Lord Drak
dy Mytham seems like just another pretty-boy town clown, leaving
most of the military work to his offended lieutenant and
sergeants. However, as the “Revenant,” a masked night rider in
navy blue active these last two years, Drak is a highly skilled
bladesman and rider. The Revenant has a near-folkloric
reputation as a champion of the common folk, and is more than
willing to wield his rapier against those who offend against decency
and honor. He is notorious for a skewed sense of humor, which
he unleashes on his foes, leaving them with mocking limericks
ringing in their ears.
House Of Fire: The original Upuaut cathedral is in
ruins - just stubs of walls and towers beyond the foundations are
left, all in heavily weathered sandstone - heavily bas-relieved,
with the ruins of a double gallery surrounding the raised
mound. Set into the mound face are tombs, desecrated in the
original fall of the city and reconsecrated just twenty years ago;
it is considered a tremendous honor to be interred in the crypts.
Chantry of the College Of Mages: Intact
from the original city (and protected until just a few years ago
with one of the most powerful Forbiddings ever
encountered), the outer wall is sheathed in glazed deep blue
tile. An inner tower of seven stories, likewise sheathed in
glazed blue tile, is the city’s tallest structure beyond Palace
Mount. The College has reclaimed the old chantry for use, and
in consequence this is the smallest city in the world by population
to have an active chantry of the College. The first two floors
of the tower are lounging areas, the third has small cubicles as
work and study rooms, the fourth is the library (with largely
contemporary works, the treasures of olden days eagerly scavenged
and passed to the College’s current headquarters), the fifth
contains offices, the sixth the original Great Council hall (used
for Moots and other meetings) and the seventh an observation deck
and a magical Gate to the current headquarters.
There are a great number of Master-class wizards and, in particular,
an unusual number of Witherers of San Guiskwain
attached to the College, most brought in to deal with (and/or study)
the Unlife in the area. This creates a good bit of friction
with the Upuaut worshippers in the area, who are very unhappy and
suspect collusion, with some justification. Keeping the peace
caused the College to dispatch one of the world’s leading Masters to
be the local Guildmaster.
Sana Marakal Gheleng - A temporalist with few peers in all the
world, Sana Marakal is a devoted scholar, the author of over two
dozen works on various technical and theoretical aspects of
magic. Although she is near his ninetieth year, she moves with
the energy and grace of a much younger woman, and claims she ought
to be good for a century more! For the most part, the Chantry
is governed with a light hand, but she does not expect to be
gainsaid when she does speak ... and she is not.
San Hondo ham Berigan - San Hondo is a nobleman from a great nation
to the north, one where the lore of undead is potent and
strong. By studying the ancient texts found in this Chantry,
this Witherer has learned lore sufficient to create more potent
zombies than ever were known before. He is the creator of the
now-widely-known Intelligent Zombie spell, although few
people have learned this, save for Marakal. San Hondo is
seriously ill - the damp and heat do his lungs no good - but is
unwilling to leave his rich researches for drier and cooler climes.
Sana Ayella the Lakewalker- Hailing from an almost forgotten
tradition (and, in fact, from another dimension altogether), she
uses the bones of humans for her magical rites. She casts
knucklebones for purposes of divination and wields bone handled,
bone-bladed longknives which contain the willing mortality
of people of her homeland and is useful against certain types of
Unlife. Her practices have long engendered dark rumors about
just how she gets her bones, although she hotly protests that she is
not at all a necromancer. Ayella is middle-aged and more
athletic than attractive, with silvering auburn hair drawn back into
a very long braid; she eschews traditional wizard robes for leather
vests, longcoats and trousers, often weathered and worn.
San Tandar dy Mytham is a noted alchemist specializing in medical
elixirs and potions which confer great physical prowess. Not
many know he is the brother of Lord Drak (the “Revenant”) - Tandar
is a largely cloistered scholar who doesn’t use his surname on the
rare occasions he appears in public - but the brothers do have
occasional dealings. Drak secures a number of alchemicals he
uses in his deeds from Tandar, and for his own part Tandar has
pretty much figured out that his brother is the masked night rider.
Hall Of Dancers: The original use of this broad
colonnaded hall is unknown, but the bas-reliefs are uniformly of
dancers, both in ritualistic rows and folk dances. It is most
often used to stage plays.
“Libraries:” These small structures are found
throughout the city, raised nearly two stories over street level,
with steep pediments leading up to the “floor” level. Many are
restored, with cleared stairs leading down into the interior of the
structures. No writings have been found in them, or could have
survived the long centuries, but the bas-reliefs are overwhelmingly
of scholarly pursuits and the scribing of books, and their purpose
is conjectural.
Temple of Bronze: This temple, consecrated to
Mitra in the olden days, was sheathed in heavy bronze plates,
fantastically etched, which never weathered or tarnished. Some
of the plates are missing, but the remainder make the temple
difficult to view during sunny days, and the interior is very hot
during such days. The space has been reconsecrated and is
tended by acolytes, but is not in regular use as a Mitraic temple.
Prasavya Temple: This restored edifice is believed
to have been a temple, and has been consecrated to Upuaut as an
active parish. A stunning, grey marble statue of the god
stands at the right-hand side of the entrance. With its arched
pillars, a nested dome at the center, and a fine collection of
statuary - some restored, others imported - in alcoves along the
interior walls, it is an exceptional piece of architecture. A
huge silver-plated wolf, fully twelve feet high, stands behind the
main altar.
The chief priest, who bears the unusual and resounding title of
Grand Capitalis of the Imperial City, is Mother Verena, a Steel
cultist, and is assisted by four junior clerics and seven
acolytes. A grim woman despite her youth and prone to hellfire
sermons, she is thought to enjoy the particular favor of the
Matriarch of the faith in far-off Lanax, and is being groomed for
exalted rank. She is also head of the Temple school, run by
Steel cult monastics; many of the children of Telmora are educated
here.
The “Chess Board:” This pediment, set in
alternating blue-grey and mauve 4' granite squares and bounded in
copper (somehow brightly burnished and lacking a patina), is one of
the rare examples of granite architecture in the city. It is
ruled just like a chess board, and is believed to have been used for
Blood Chess, where the live “pieces” contested every square to the
death, bearing the arms and armor customary for their pieces.
It was completely restored just last year, and talk is to stage live
chess matches ... if without the bloodsport.
Pit Of Glass: Much of the northwest corner of the
city is taken up by this broad depression, shaped roughly like an
ant trap and some sixty feet deep and a couple hundred yards
wide. It is entirely surfaced with a mottled dark green glass,
rippling from the center of the pit outward, somewhat unevenly; at
the edges, the glass is several inches thick. Even in the
glory days of the Empire, such a mass of glass would represent years
of output, and it cannot have been a planned feature - the Pit
slightly impedes traffic from the Wendelin Gate.
The “Mace:” A long gallery with a rounded chamber
at one end and a cruciform chamber at the other and reminiscent,
from the air, of a mace, this relatively intact building is used as
the Old City’s public market; its original purpose is unknown.
New City: There are some businesses that have set
up in the Old City, mostly clustered between the Flaring Gate and
Palace Mount. More have arisen in the so-called “New City,” a
wooden quasi-shanty town springing up between the river and the Old
City moat. The living conditions in the New City are, to put
it charitably, “not good,” and this was exacerbated by a fire last
year that torched a full third of it. The so-called “Burned
District” is as yet largely unrebuilt, with expansion encroaching on
the jungle in different directions.
Adventure hooks:
1) Pretty straightforward; there’s almost always some
archeological dig in the city, and however much they take care,
eager workers open up forgotten crypts and chambers looking for
loot, and undead and curses come out. More problematic are the
illegal digs, started by treasure hunters unwilling to wait for
official protection and completely unwilling to pay the large tax
collections imposed on any treasure find. (That being said,
the party might be some of those illicit hunters.)
2) Beyond the city’s eastern edge, the jungle is still there ... and
if Telmora was found here, what other wonders - or terrors - might
rest just a few miles beyond? A number of treasure hunters
penetrate every year (unlike for digs within the Old City, there is
no official restriction on them, nor the manpower to enforce any
that might be enacted) ... some come back. More often, zombies
wearing their visage are seen. Who or what still makes those
zombies, and what if they assault the city in force?
3) While the Witherers - practitioners of necromancy and, it is
said, even darker magics - are not precisely illegal in the
Principality, they are not welcome, and the region’s domination by
the anti-necromantic faith of Upuaut
makes the tensions that much stronger. Sana Marakal has a
relatively tight rein on the wizards, but Mother Verena doesn’t
particular want to exercise a tight rein on her militant cultists,
and the Governor isn’t concerned for much short of embarrassing
dispatches forwarded to the capitol. No one imagines it would
be comfortable to be between dueling factions of flame priests and
zombie conjurers ...
4) The New City is a seething cesspool of degradation and graft,
where fortunes are made peddling drugs to the common workers, and
even larger ones in smuggling art objects and other treasure out
past the Company of Guards and the naval presence at the river’s
mouth. Now if some party would only be willing to take a
shortcut with these sacks of loot through just a dozen miles of
jungle ...