This in an ancient land.
A land of blood and sea and sand.
Long ago, we were born from the sea. Our mother took us out from perdition and delivered us across raging storms and tumultous seas. She delivered us here.
To our city.
[[Enter the Free City]]
You arrived with the evening tide, the smell of salt air in your nostrils and the cries from the dock-side rousing you from your quarters aboard the Sea Witch.
She was a trusty ship, and your voyage was pleasant enough. They say there are no better sailors than those who make their homes in the Free City, and you would be inclined to believe it.
The dockyards are a boistrous place, filled with ships, hawkers, travelers, and laborers unloading the great berths that make their port here.
Off in the distance, high above you sits a tan, adobe archway, inlaid with mosaics depicting waves, storms, and all manor of creatures that roam beneath the sea. Atop them all the Mother of Waves holds court upon her azure throne. Her expression is regal, but welcoming, gazing down to all she rules. The long locks of her braided hair sweep into the sea beneath, stirring gently into the foam.
[[Explore the Docks -> Explore the Docks]]
[[Pass through the Archway -> Leave the Docks]]
The old sailor-turned-gaoler smiles. A broad, glittering smile, his teeth dotted with gold and rot in equal measure.
He gestures to the charges behind him, bound in chains. "Aye? That'un..." he motions to each in turn, "Raper, raper, murderer, murderer, traitor, murderer..." he shrugs. "Or at least, that's the charge. 'll see if it's true or t'aint."
"What we do, see, is take 'em out on the ship. Chained like you see. Once we get right and proper out inna depths, pitch 'em overboard, one by one. See if they sink. Or if Mama Maeve shows'em mercy."
He shakes his head and laughs, "Cannae take a man's laugh. T'isnt ours to take. The Mother'a Waves giveth and taketh away. Only in war, fought in 'er name, may we take the life of a'nutter. Otherwise...." again, he motions to his waiting ship. "We let Maeve decide."
"Some'a these blokes try to invoke their laws. Invoke ‘Trial By Combat’ or what-have-you. Bring some fancy Champion along, as if that gives 'em a license to lie and cheat and steal. Fools." He fixes one of his prisoners with a look, a fellow clad in knight's armor, who sits, shaking, on the bench of the ship.
The gaoler shakes his head, "Dinnae they know? Gods don't caere a lick how'a man fights. What's theirs is theirs, what's ours is ours, and we dinnae take what the Mother give."
"Sure enough, the Regent or a Judge can take a man or'a woman's hands, their lands, their freedom... but cannae take their life. That, we leave to the Sea."
He gazes out, past the harbor. "A'Mother is inna foul mood, late-wise. Ain't seen'a soul come back up, outta the depths in a long, long time."
He stares with his one, non-ruined eye, then winks. "Most'a 'em just sink, down into the black. But sometimes... sometimes, she takes a special interest. Sometimes... she sends one'a 'er servants. A shark. Squid. Kraken. When she does..." his smile widens, "Issa sight to see."
[[Leave the Docks -> Leave the Docks]]
As you pass under the archway, light flutters down through the blue glass mosaic above you.
Where will you begin?
[[Visit the Marketplace -> The Bazaar]]
[[Visit the Cathedral of Maeve -> The Cathedral of Maeve]]
The cathedral of Maeve is a jewel in the crown of the Free Cities. All roads seem to gravitate towards it, pulling the traveler inexorably towards it's glimmering edifice.
As you enter, the archway from the docks is repeated. Blue light shimmers down through tiles of glass, and strange shapes dance along the floor. It's almost as if you are underwater.
Along the walls are great tapestries of mosaic tiles, depicting the struggle of the people of the Trident.
A lone Confessor stands in the middle of the wide auditorium, quietly sweeping the colored sands that are scattered across the floor.
[[Inspect the Mosaic -> The Mosaic]]
[[Leave -> Where Next]]
//Beneath the mosaic tiles is this sermon, explaining the visuals of the tapestry://
This diaspora, this sundering, this tearing of earth and fire and air is not the first. No, there were others, long before this present time. In the ashes of such, we were born.
Do not think on the old world too kindly. As much as it was a place of life and joy, it was a world of sorrow, hatred, and pain. Do not, then, lust for the way things were, but remember the way things are.
Ours is a people cast out, rejected, spurned by our brothers and sisters, renounced by our gods, abandoned by all. Some ancient sin laid across our backs, the weight of which was meant to drag us, sinking, into the sea.
But we did not drown.
The Sea Mother, in her pity and grace, did take mercy on us as we were cast into her depths. She gathered us to her bosom, and brought us out of the storm and sea. She taught us, on sandy beaches and calm waves, how to fell the trees of the forest, to build the ships of oak, to cast our nets, and pull from her depths her bounty.
And when those who had cast us out came to destroy us, she taught us to fight. With shield and spear and bow, with trident and blade. Her fury and wave crashed against their stone and brick, and we washed away all that would bring arms against us.
She has brought us here, through fire and flood, through ash and bone, across storms and sands and plains. She has lain out her nets and bid us form our world anew. By sand. By blood. By sea.
You've heard your own stories, no doubt. Of a cruel mistress. Of mindless slaves. Of an empire of steel, bent on crushing all that remains of the old. Fallen and faltering gods plot and scheme against our mother. They whisper falsehoods and drip a slow poison. But you have nothing to fear.
Come, walk our streets. Rest in our taverns. Trade in our bazaars. Now, here, in the Eternal Kingdom, in these Free Cities, all are wanderers, all are cast out. Little crow, are you lost? Then you are my brother. Are you spurned? You are my sister.
Blood of my blood.
Sand of my sand.
Sea of my sea.
[[Return to the Cathedral -> The Cathedral of Maeve]]
Where will you visit next?
[[Return to the Docks -> Explore the Docks]]
[[Visit the Bazaar -> The Bazaar]]
[[Visit the Cathedral -> The Cathedral of Maeve]]
The docks are alive with activity. Where will you begin?
A ruddy-faced sailor sits on a barrel, smoking a pipe. On the ship behind him, men and women bound in chains are being ushered up the gangplank.
[[Talk to the Sailor-turned-Gaoler]]
The bazaar is abuzz with activity, even as the sun beats down on merchants and buyers alike. Hawkers cry their wares as they haggle over goods with traveling merchants. You see one from the Westerlands, another from Rook's Keep. Whatever the stories, it seems all who have coin are welcome in the Free Cities.
One booth catches your eye, and the seller within smiles at you. The old man beckons towards you cheerily, inviting you to enter his stall.
[[Talk with the Merchant -> The Merchant]]
[[Leave the Bazaar -> Where Next]]
"Ah! A traveler! Welcome, welcome brother! Come in, come in, get out of that hot sun!"
"See, now, isn't this better? I pity the poor man who must stride through the bazaar when the Uncle shines his full face upon us. Dreadful, dreadful! Here, here, a cool glass of water for your parched throat. We take hot tea, as well, here in the Trident. Would you care to try some? Haha! Yes, quite so, quite so, even in this heat! Some call it madness but the taste is... heaven!"
"So! To business! What can I help you find? I've got shipments in from all over the realms. Trinkets from dying worlds... here! The last coffee from Esserty, I've been saving it for someone special!"
"No? Alright then, very good, excellent! Not a man for frivolities! I see, I see! Something different, then? Something practical?"
"My friend, dearest, beloved, if you take only one thing across the seas, across the smoke and ash, I would urge you, take this."
He profers to you a small parcel, wrapped in velvet. Unwrapping it, you see it contains a small, ornately decorated disc.
[["...a compass?"]]
"A simple compass? Hardly! Why, this is one of the finest inventions our lands possess. Keep this, regard this, and you shall never lose your way. Though you be lost in dying worlds, left in ash and stone, this! This! The wood, the metal, the workmanship will guide you home."
"See how it glimmers in the light? How the wood of it's paneling shines? That is it's heartspirit, beckoning! The soul of a brave hunter lives in this wood, and she wishes to be your guide."
"You'll take it? Excellent! You shall not regret it, brother! Now, of course, there is the small matter of payment... Ah! Yes, we'll take gold, wood, iron... Anything else you've brought from the realms! Come, come. Blood of my blood, sand of my sand! Let me pour you out some more water, and we shall come to terms."
[[Buy the compass -> Where Next]]
[[Excuse yourself -> Where Next]]