Not a novel concept, but certainly something that folks might find interesting or can find a use for. The idea is to allow the player's to roll once on each separate table. This is an opportunity to let players get creative and to share some of the weight that comes with generating an adventuring zone. It might also give the GM a few insights into the things that their players find interesting or want to engage with.
The sky fractured and the stars of the vault bloomed in velvet black. Magick had been unleashed once again. As the thread of fate unraveled, a pillar of existence was destroyed. A part of creation, of the tapestry that all known laws of the waking world are built upon. The golden lights that were embedded in the sky melted away as it was torn open, a mutilating wound to reality as the mortal races know it. Immense structures fell from the sky, raining down greenish stone blocks of impossible size. Hideous crowned citadels of a golden-hued city wavered in and out of existence, as gurgling blackened rivers drained from unknown, alien origins and onto the earth below. Where the waters spilled, life was forever transformed. It became disfigured and cruel. Beasts were no longer just that, they were blood-hungry monsters of blasphemous horror. Men who were caught in the tide of magick became husks of their former selves, hunting and slavering creatures that darted across the open plains and hills of Loclan, slaughtering anyone or anything they came across. The horrors unleashed were not limited to just its epicenter. Terrible events unfolded across the land as reality waned and the veil between the worlds faltered.
Unklaw the Scale felt the thread fade from existence upon his throne in Norcia. His rage was so immense that he burned the world. A swath of destruction cascaded from his torturer city of Norcia to the edge of Loclan’s territory, becoming the Obsidian Scar. All who were caught in the flames have become ash walkers, blackened, lost souls who wail and cry in agony for all eternity. Serpents are drawn to the place of the dragon’s fire. Wyverns now make their home here, along with the serpent-men of Ixindar and the brutal tribes of Drakon. The Notari, an assassin’s guild ruling over the city of Myrefall, has closed its gates and rumors of faceless, horrific guardians protecting the inner city have become widespread. The Rot that once consumed the farmlands of Myrefall has spread, and those unfortunates who are forced to live outside the muted walls of stone of the inner sanctum are now caught in the slimy harbors and dense rotting structures of the water-bogged slums that surround the city. Citizens wander aimlessly in the streets, unable to sleep as visions and haunting nightmares prevent them from doing so. Even more have whispered of “Her Majesty, the Agony”. The Five Ladies of Ruin have masqueraded long enough, no longer bound by the laws put in place by the Keeper and her tapestry of fate. Their supplicants and followers make war with the people of the Red Sands, the Sorcerer Kings of Ahnki and beyond call to their demonic allies for help, and are answered. Legions of devils and demons swarm through the deserts and midlands of Evslore. Hosts lorded over by the great masters of the shallow halls march over the fallen and slay any who stand in their way. The Guild Eldritch goes silent and magical seals of great power prevent all outsiders from approaching the monolithic tower of Zundureem. Some claim that the sorcerers and sages that call the tower home have finally gone mad, or perhaps they have dabbled too far into the inner workings of the black book and discovered a terrible truth. The Age of Death arrives. The Grand City of Kaastark rests within a caldera, its homes and inhabitants obscured by what the locals call the "sleeping mists." Visitors are greeted by a 60ft smooth, stone wall circling the entire perimeter of the city and can enter through four cardinal gates evenly spaced out along the wall. Smoke and steam pour out of every crack in the foundation and wash over the sides of the walls, immediately producing light beads of slick condensation on the goods and clothes of those unfortunate enough to come into the city wearing anything other than light armor. Looking up at the tops of the gates reveals the tanned, stern faces of the Redguard, clad in crimson and white linen robes bound with golden cords, as they survey the intended with a halberd crooked in their elbows. Looming over the stone defenses, a massive tower of obsidian cradles an iron brazier whose flame whips violently in the spring breeze. Upon passing through the gates, it would become clear that the tower sits atop a large temple sinking beneath the burbling waters at the foot of the caldera. Smoke billows forth from between the columns of the temple, weaving its way through the city districts. Civilians scurry towards the steam pools, dumping large cauldrons of cold water into its depths, and as a byproduct releasing more clouds of steam into the area. Each district of the city has its own place along the wall and as such carries many exciting wares unique to Kaastark. The Garden District boasts flowers of brilliant red and blue, each thriving in the unusual conditions it was born into. The Farming District has taken advantage of vertical plots and offers various species of beans, peppers, and grains. The Market District is a vast, open bazaar situated directly next to the Garden District, which houses hundreds of stalls selling the freshest vegetables and finest linens in the region. The Civil, Noble, and Military districts are all separated respectively but sit adjacent to one another, making up the Living Quarters. The Temple District encompasses almost the entirety of the caldera and contains the Obsidian Tower, the Red King's Temple, and the Hissing Pools. Here, the Red Priestesses tend to the Eternal Flame and can be seen accepting offerings to the Red King from civilians who wish to pay homage to him. Though the city is immense, and everyone seems to be busy minding their duties, the Market District has its own agenda and welcomes weary travelers into their high priced inns with open arms. The Fireside Tavern, however, is a unique establishment whose owner, Akhem, prides himself on offering only the best quality food and rooms to those who cannot afford to rest their weary bones on fine silks. The tavern itself is three floors high, much taller and grander than its competitors, but has a well-worn, gently loved look about it. Game tables, a large hearth, and beautiful women are just some of the attractions one can catch a glance of when passing by its doors. The tavern is refreshing, inviting, and bustling with activity. Akhem allows a handful of carts to set up shop outside of the tavern once a week and encourages newcomers to take a glance at the collections offered outside. Each cart has been inspected by Akhem before their wares are sold and he can -guarantee- each item's authenticity. An announcement board is nailed to the side of the tavern and looks to be kept up to date because there aren't many posts available. One flier, however, does hang loosely from a silver pin, pocked with various holes from when it had been hung several times before. A man by the name of "Asim" is advertising for recruits for a new guild he is forming: the Fireside Free Company. Author: Emily B. | Jensyn.
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