prokopetz:

prokopetz:

ascholarlyengineer:

prokopetz:

Concept: an RPG setting including a nation that overthrew the vile Sorcerer-Kings several generations ago after a thousand years of subjugation and instituted a modified form of anarcho-syndicalism, but, well, by then the Aesthetic had become a part of their culture – and radical reform of political institutions is one thing, but some things are more stubborn!

  • Architecture consists primarily of storm-lashed spires of obsidian and (ethically sourced!) bone, the interiors of which are mostly filled with comfortably appointed apartments, including heavy soundproof window-covers to muffle the frequent thunder.
  • Fashion tends toward voluminous hooded cloaks, which are eminently practical, given the near-constant grimy drizzle. Fashion also tends toward an excess of thick leather belts and chunky metal buckles, the latter typically fashioned to resemble skulls and leering demonic faces; these are less practical, though as a result few denizens ever find themselves without a handy spot to secure a tool or pouch.
  • The languages spoken much resemble those of neighbouring nations, though most of the men (and a growing number of women) practice a trick of speaking with a booming sepulchral echo that non-natives can never seem to get the hang of. Many elders also work on perfecting their shrill cackles in their free time.
  • People carry “skeleton donor” cards indicating their consent to have their remains reanimated after death. Animated skeletons require no luxuries and dislike idleness, but they’re required to take every third day off anyway; most of them spend those days staging elaborate pantomimes and engaging in musical duels with whatever instruments they can get their phalanges on that require neither breath nor skin.
  • The harbour is patrolled by a tame leviathan that in all honesty would probably just run away if anyone ever mounted a serious assault, but thus far nobody has been willing to test that theory. It quite enjoys having its gills scritched, a predilection that often unnerves visiting mariners.
  • Every Winter Solstice a volunteer puts on the spiky armour and the ridiculous hat and runs through the streets while village children chase after her and hit her with sticks, and a grand time is had by all.

Do they have a play about the Vile Sorcerer-King and about how his rule was not legitimate just because some watery tart threw a scimitar at him?

They do have that play, but it’s about the immortal Paladin-Queen who rules the nation across the mountain range next door.

(Not actually a terrible place to live, for the most part, but its philosophy of governance definitely emphasises the “Lawful” half of “Lawful Good”; many of its institutions are borderline authoritarian socialist, which leads to some very lively debates at diplomatic events.)

Of course, not only humans inhabit these bleak lands: in the mist-shrouded forests dwell the spider-folk.

  • Spider-folk include both burrow-dwelling hunters and tree-dwelling web-builders; the smallest are about the size of a housecat, while the largest could give your average dragon a square fight.
  • Under the reign of the Sorcerer-Kings, the spider-folk were petty nobility, and lorded over the human peasantry with an iron claw. They occupy a more equal station now, of course, and though any true bad blood between the two peoples is generations past, humans still frequently stereotype spider-folk as arrogant and prissy – which, in complete fairness, they often are!
  • Spider-folk culture is famously litigious. Mock trials are a favourite pastime among their young, and high-profile lawsuits draw large crowds of spectators to witness their thunderous objections and head-spinning reversals. It’s unclear to human observers whether these proceedings represent a functioning legal system or a kind of performance art; in truth, it’s a bit of both.
  • Though they have little use for clothing, spider-folk are rarely seen without their elaborate and faintly absurd hats. It’s speculated that these were originally adopted in the aftermath of the Sorcerer-Kings’ downfall in order to appear less threatening to humans – it’s difficult to be afraid of someone in a silly hat, after all – but these days it’s simply expected.

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