Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 6: Bastion

A village in the Stonewold.

BASTION 

Bastion nestles in the pinewoods at the head of the Sob river. It is said the stone thanes have forgotten its existence - or shun it lest they awaken the horrors hidden in the mountains behind. 

Population: 93 (57 human, 23 dwarf, 13 halfling). Though the village is mostly inhabited by humans, dwarves have settled here too, drawn by the promise of mountain gold.  

Government: Bastion resides in the shire of Groal, yet its giant rulers claim no tribute, nor have they sent a governor to lead its people. Since the last giant left two hundred years ago, the villagers have elected their own headman to settle disputes and marshal supplies. Such responsibilities usually fall to the eldest resident, so the dwarf Bhaldur is the current headman, having lived here for over a hundred and fifty years. 

Inns and Taverns: The halfling-run "Weeping Giant" is the village's only inn. Years of harsh winters have driven the villagers closer together, and now the inn serves as a communal feasting hall, with residents pooling their produce and paying the halflings to cook stews. Visitors to Bastion are likely to find its entire population eating in here most evenings. 

Supplies: Bastion has no shops, but the villagers come together every month to hold a small market. Iron mined from the mountains is worked by the dwarves into simple farming tools, or when needed, weapons.  

Temples: Most villagers keep small shrines in their homes, but there is no central place of worship. An ancient menhir dedicated to the Wild Sisters stands in the market green, and offerings are sometimes laid before it if the weather is particularly bad.     

The Gate: Bastion's vast gate is said to lead under the mountains to the cities on the coast, but nobody has passed through it for hundreds of years. The portal was kept closed even under giant rule, leading some to suspect that something terrible is kept beyond. Sometime lights are spied in the darkness, causing the villagers to stay in their homes and lock their shutters.

Drowned Kingdoms Gazetteer 2: Familiars of the Sea

Meet Castavan, Murl, Gurgo and Wodlock! 

The wizards of Ebb are known to take their familiars from the sea: choosing crabs, turtles, lobsters, or seabirds such as penguins or gulls. Each wizard imbues a portion of his or her soul into their familiar, forming an arcane bond between them that can never be broken. In doing so, they also take on a measure of their familiar's own primal essence, mutating their mind and body in subtle - and sometimes not so subtle - ways.

Those who choose the gull sometimes grow sleek feathers on their forearms, or develop a gnawing hunger for raw fish. As their arcane bond grows, some even learn to project their own voices on the winds, calling out over many leagues.

The penguin grants their master unmatched underwater prowess. Such wizards may grow scaly webbing between their fingers, but this is purely cosmetic: their watery skills are entirely magical. These wizards also gain the ability to hold their breaths for longer, allowing them to dive below the surface for extended periods of time.

Those who take the crab as their familiar may find themselves inadvertently walking sideways rather than turning, or subconsciously developing a grumpy temperament around other wizards. Their most striking ability is their grasp, which is said to be as strong as the grip of an umber hulk. These wizards' hands are always flushed red with blood, and may even develop chitinous lumps and blisters.

Similarly, those of the turtle may find their skin becomes leathery and wrinkled in places. Such wizards typically have enhanced endurance, and sometimes develop a minor magical resistance to blows (offset somewhat by their unnaturally languid gait).    

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 5: Odinessa

The legendary City of Ropes welcomes a new dawn.

I think this is the first map I've drawn that really hits the "big story" of Drowned Kingdoms: a world ruled by an ancient order of giants, perched on the brink of a new age.

Locked away in their towers and embroiled in petty politics, the giants have unwittingly ceded control to trusted stewards from the "mannish" races. I can picture the Groaning King tramping through his ramshackle hall, tended by degenerate servants, while his scheming steward runs the busy metropolis below. Odinessa also gives me a chance to explore one of the new classes from the latest packet - the warden - which manifests in Next as a "green knight" variant of the paladin. For Drowned Kingdoms I've made these the guardians of the city's great roc, which protects Odinessa from attack by scooping up ships and dashing them against the cliffs.

This is also the last map I intend to draw from the Widowing Sea region. Next up we're going on a trip to the mountains, where we'll explore some of the Highland Kingdom!

ODINESSA 

The "City of Ropes" is the gateway between the Widowing Sea and the upper reaches of the Highland Kingdom. Its citizens belong to the Groaning King of the stone giants, who rules from a castle overlooking the city.  

Population: 8,434 (85% human, 10% halfling, 5% other). Humans make up the vast proportion of Odinessa's population, with most indentured into service with one of the great guilds. The city's halflings are a throwback to the grim days of giantry, when most inhabitants worked as slaves in the king's castle (and halflings were prized as cooks). 

Government: The Groaning King may govern in principle, but the city is ruled by his steward: an office currently held by Bourne Cavendish, baseborn son of the late Lord Cavendish. "The Bastard" rules with an iron fist, and has brought the city's guilds to heel through a winning combination of threats, bribery and murder. Rumour has it that he clamours for yet more power, and is turning his eyes overseas in search of conquest.  

Inns and Taverns: Most of Odinessa's inns and taverns are found in the Wash: the tangle of streets honeycombing the city's crowded docks. Ragwork's mighty meadhall still does a roaring trade, even though the drink now comes at a price (under giantry, each of the king's slaves was granted a free flask of mead at the close of each day).  

Supplies: Odinessa was once a thoroughfare for highland merchants, with goods hoisted up and down its cliffs on massive rope lifts. Such industry collapsed along with the king's court, and now its ropes hang rotten. Today the city's trade is tied up by the guilds, with Odinessa supplying a steady stream of valuable ores and minerals to the economy of the sea kingdoms. Visitors should seek out the Crown Market, where trade goods can be purchased from all over the ocean.   

Temples: Temples for most modern faiths can be found on Burnt Hill. Chief among these is the Temple of the Sky, whose silvered dome is polished to a mirrored sheen that can be seen for many leagues. Sky priests are a growing power in Odinessa, and in recent years have even infiltrated the steward's hold.  

Laws and Customs: Guildrule holds sway in the city, with each guild providing their own tunics to maintain peace and dispense justice. Knights swear fealty to their steward, or tend the king's eagle (a giant even among its own kind). The mysterious Knights of the Roc are said to watch over a clutch of eggs that have lain dormant in its eyrie for almost two centuries.   

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 4: The Sunken Citadel of Ebb

What secrets lie hidden within the drowned fastness of Ebb? 

Aspirant wizards of the Widowing Sea are taken by sail to the Lullen, a vast stretch of water where no wind blows. Marooned on its edge, the aspirant must row alone into the doldrums, until they come at last to a place where bubbles break the surface. Quaffing the water-breathing draught given to them by their master, they dive down into the inky depths, where they are inducted into the sunken citadel of Ebb.

Ebb was once the home of a powerful storm giant wizard. By day her tower overlooked a windswept valley, but by night it tumbled through the planes on her command. Powerful wards protected it from the elemental chaos, allowing the wizard to explore the furthest shores of the cosmos. Nobody knows how her tower finally collapsed, or what fate befell the wizard herself, but Ebb had long fallen into ruin by the time of the deluge. Its magic still held though, stilling the wind for miles around its foundations, and holding its walls fast against the crushing pressures of the abyss. Filled with artificial gravity and flooded with fresh, cool air, the sunken citadel was found by adventurers of the Widowing Sea, who turned it into a grand college of magic.

A wizard of the sunken citadel dresses in blue, aquamarine or purple robes, often decorated with wave or tentacle motifs. Their staffs are surmounted by shards of coral or mother-of-pearl, and they typically take oceanic creatures as familiars: crabs, seabirds or snapping turtles. Graduates serve the navies of the Widowing Sea as war wizards, or carry out their studies in solitude from remote hermitages. Others quest in the company of sell-swords and sea reavers, searching for sunken secrets to carry back to their masters in Ebb.

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 3: The Pinnacles of Song

Dare you scale the windswept Pinnacles of Song?

So we needed a monk to test out all of the classes in D&D Next. I've never been big on monks; in fact, I don't think any of my previous campaigns actually supported them. Coming up with a monastic order for Drowned Kingdoms was going to be something new for me.

If I have any advice on campaign building, it's to draw inspiration from real life. History books are an obvious source to mine, but you can glean a lot just by listening to the news, browsing the internet, or flicking through back issues of magazines like National Geographic. Start thinking consciously about adapting real-life stories to your games, and it's amazing what you'll find. Give those stories a fantastic tweak, and you'll often end up with something truly original.

The idea of a monastery carved into a sheer rock face is hardly new - in fact, the internet is crammed with awesome pictures of them. However, I couldn't resist, as nothing says "monk" better than a precarious mountain sanctuary. This wasn't my only inspiration for the Pinnacles of Song though: somewhat surprisingly, most of it came from a short news story about the use of satellite dishes in Iran. It turns out that satellite TV is illegal under the regime, yet over half the residents still own dishes. The police swoop in and tear them down, a few people get fined, and then the residents wire them up again. Best of all, most people aren't using them to listen to foreign news or tune into pirate political broadcasts - they're using them to watch Turkish soap operas, comedy shows, or American serials dubbed into Persian. You know: basic feel-good entertainment. It was this story that gave me the idea for the Song Monks.

THE SONG MONKS 

The wood elves of the Kithweald lived in harmony with the Four Storms - the untamed, magical winds that rumble over the seas of Diluvia. Looking out over their forest was like gazing over the rolling waves, the song of its shuddering leaves matching the endless rise and fall of the tide. It's said the elves learned to whisper on these winds, casting their voices for miles in a primal tongue that only they could hear.  

For centuries the giants had left the Kithweald alone. When they finally came, they took hundreds of captives, loading them onto their longboats and stealing them away to serve as their slaves. Lost and afraid, far from home, the captives listened to the winds but could no longer hear the song of their countrymen. The giants told them they had burned their forest, and put their people to the sword. But they were liars. When the spring winds finally blew, the elves heard the distant voices of their people, and though they couldn't talk back, they could listen - a secret that kept them warm through all the dark days of their slavery. Now, whenever the spring wind blows, they are reminded that their people are still out there. 

In time the cruel giants were overthrown, and kinder masters took over. Freed from the shackles of slavery, the elves went in search of their lost homeland, but were scattered even further by the Four Storms. Today they gather at the Pinnacles of Song to listen to the voices of their lost kinsmen - the songs, laughter, and whispered secrets of a life beyond their grasp. The winds moan weirdly as they sweep over the pinnacles' warped surfaces, amplifying the voices better than any other place. Those bold enough to live a life of hardship here can train as a song monk: contemplative warriors who seek mastery over the Four Storms. The monks learn to channel the winds over their bodies, tapping its power to perform amazing feats of physical mastery. The most powerful can even bend the spring wind to their will, tuning into its song at any time.

Every year, one of these adepts is dispatched in search of their lost homeland, guided by the Spring song. To date, none have found their way through the storms.  

Drowned Kingdoms Gazetteer 1: Pickbill

Lots of odd little ideas have emerged as we've been mapping Drowned Kingdoms: thoughts about characters, customs, creatures - even sports. I'm going to try and capture some of these here on the blog as the weeks go by, starting with this cantankerous little fellow - the pickbill.

When I drew the Fathomdeep map, Stacey asked what birds were nesting on the giant trident. I didn't have an answer, so she came up with this creature. It's not a monster, and it doesn't come with an adventure hook - but I think stuff like this adds valuable flavour to my world. I'm reminded of my favourite RPG world book - Titan, the Fighting Fantasy World - which featured all sorts of wonderful cultural details, from orcish campfire songs through to starcharts of the heavens. These are the details that cement your world in the imagination of your players.

So let's hope this blog series can provide something similar!

PICKBILL 

These large seabirds have toughened pick-shaped bills and powerful clawed feet. They use the points of their bills to crack open barnacles and shellfish, allowing them to gobble up the tasty meat inside. Combs of fibrous 'teeth' span the front of the bill, allowing them to filter plankton from the water. 

Pickbills are clumsy flyers but agile swimmers. They live in large waterside colonies, but are extremely territorial over their own patches. As a species they are found all over southern Diluvia, nesting in sheer cliff-faces or abandoned seaside ruins.  

It's not advisable to eat a pickbill as their meat is extremely tough and salty, and can leave you with a nasty case of food poisoning. Some sailors view them as good-luck charms, as in bad weather their long, honking calls can be used to guide vessels towards (or away from) land. 

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 2: Salvation

Welcome to Salvation, sailor!

SALVATION 

The port of Salvation nestles in the towering ruins of an abandoned storm giant temple. Those who live here swear fealty to the stone giants of Haggard Rock.

Population: 823 (60% human, 25% dwarf, 15% other). Humans residents are typically shopkeepers or tradesmen. Dwarves belong to the jewellers' guild, and rotate in shifts between here and the Fathomdeep mining platform.

Government: Salvation is ruled by the Tulán, corrupted half-giant governor to the thane of Haggard Rock. His masters rarely visit, so the mariners' guild keep him in a state of drunken revelry - allowing them to get on with the business of running the town.  Mikkel Shar is the current guild head; youngest ever to be appointed his station. While the Tulán is rarely seen beyond the walls of Fort Orison, Mikkel Shar is a well-respected face around town.

Inns and Taverns: The three-storied "Merrymeet Inn" slumps atop a fallen pillar near the docks, and is most popular among visitors. Locals prefer the raucous "Scrambler's Alehouse" on the quayside, or the dusky "Hanged Monkey Tavern". All three are cheaply priced, with plenty of rooms to spare.  

Supplies: The guilds haven't gripped Salvation as they have in the larger cities. The mariners' and jewelers' guilds both hold offices in town, but all other business is unrestricted. Independent fishmongers, craftsmen and blacksmiths ply their trade from windows along the boardwalk, while visiting merchants sell direct from the decks of their ships.  

Temples: Though Salvation has no temples, most dwellings have makeshift shrines to one or more of the main pantheonic gods. Townsfolk arrange their own communal worship, gathering at different houses to sing and pray.   

Laws and Customs: A cadre of twenty guardsmen uphold the laws of the town, which are pretty simple: don't steal, beat or cheat. Relaxed trade laws mean even pirates and smugglers are tolerated, so long as they don't break the rules. If they do, the community is quick to rally against them.     

Maps of the Drowned Kingdoms 1: Fathomdeep

Fathomdeep - click to make bigger!

So it's the dawn of a new year, and a brand new D&D campaign rises on my horizon.  For a while now I've been drawn to the 5th Edition playtest - I admit I wasn't impressed initially, but I'm really liking the direction it's taken in recent packets. I'm going to give it a proper chance. Or at least, lay down preparations for a proper campaign. Which means a new campaign world!

I'm also aware Beholder Pie has been gathering dust recently. Though I've hosted my fair share of aborted serials here on this blog, it's time to gear up for a more regular posting schedule, and a new campaign world gives me something fresh to talk about.

So, welcome to Drowned Kingdoms! I'll be posting maps for this new world every week*, building it up map-by-map into a proper setting. I've always wanted this blog to be packed with original art, but actually getting artists to provide artwork (for nothing!) does mean it's been rather stop-start. Maps, though, I can do myself (to a degree - Stacey colours them!).

The idea for the world is pretty simple. It's the dying days of an empire of giants, decimated long ago by a great deluge. They still rule the archipelagos, but the flood has robbed them of their glory. The storm giants are forlorn drunkards, haunted by lost glories. Hill giants have descended into savagery, while stone giants are a beaten race hiding out in the mountains. Fire giants? Just a legend, supposedly fled to the Elemental planes. Beneath them all are men, elves, dwarves, and halflings - the subjects of the empire. And now, their time has come!

Stacey and I had the idea for Fathomdeep after watching the Hobbit (which we loved, in case you're wondering!). That scene at the start where the camera dives into the depths of Erebor, past clanking chains, to a lone dwarf miner uncovering the Arkenstone - now, just imagine if that was underwater? That same dwarf with his beard floating around him, fish flitting past, a flare hissing in the rockface at his side, working on a rockface of coral - well, that's Fathomdeep!

FATHOMDEEP 

Fathomdeep is a deep sea mining platform perched atop a giant statue in the ruins of a flooded storm giant city. The dwarves mine the sunken city for pearls, gold and gemstones, using waterbreathing potions to survive the crushing depths.
Population: Up to 300 dwarven workers can be found here at any one time. Roughnecks, roustabouts and miners work the rig in rotation, spending roughly a quarter of the month onshore. Servants and managers stay full-time on annual contracts. Supply ferries make the journey to the mainland on the first day of every week.
Government: The platform is owned by the Jeweller's Guild of Salvation, a nearby town. The current "toolpusher" (foreman) is called Torgi:  a grizzled veteran who commands his men's respect and is fiercely loyal to the guild.
Inns and Taverns: Rum is generously meted out every night in the "Crab's Taphouse": an annex of the rig's mess hall. Visitors are welcome to stay in the taphouse's rat-infested bunks, but may prefer the comfort of their own berths. The taphouse is run by Bald Olli, a merry dwarf who's always interested in tales of distant shores.
Supplies: Fathomdeep is a regular stop-over for sea traders, so it keeps a good supply house. Visitors can be sure to restock on fresh water, timber, hardware, and other shipping goods, but can also find a fair supply of adventuring gear. After all, the sunken city is home to worse things than fish.
Temples: The platform maintains a small shrine to the old gods of the sea. It's a dangerous job, so miners usually pay a visit to the shrine before "going below". Visitors can buy simple curatives from Ocram, the platform's crippled ritual worker. Ocram was lamed by a shark, whose teeth he now uses as runestones to predict the weather.      

Check back next week for a map of Salvation!

*Okay, maybe every other week. Let's just see how it goes.