Down in Troglopolis

The vast system of caverns and passages that riddle the underground of the Land of Azurth are a realm unto themselves, known (appropriately) as Subazurth. Parts of Subazurth are wild and dangerous and in the hands or claws of monsters of various sorts, but other areas are quite civilized and organized into petty kingdoms and even cities. The greatest of these is Troglopolis.

 Troglopolis is a large city, perhaps not so grand as the Sapphire City of Azurth but hardly unimpressive. Most of its inhabitants are pale, large-eyed humans called Underfolk. They busy themselves the the same sorts of tasks that occupy those on the surface: they cultivate mushrooms and lichens, fish underground lakes, mine metals, raise bats and train them to carry messages, drain goblinic slime pools for public safety, and engage in commerce--some of this with the surface world.

The practice of religion is found amongst them, as well, of course. They know of Azulina and her handmaidens, but they also venerate relics they find in their caves. These anomalous items do not seem to have come from Azurth above--in fact, they sometimes seem of more advanced manufacture. The Troglopolitans view these as gifts from the gods.

Humans aren't the only inhabitants of Troglopolis and the civilized regions. Their are little folk like in the world above, though there are some varieties not found in Azurth proper. The troglings (or troggles) are furred and tailed humanoids who typically live rather shiftless lives amid ancient ruins of a pre-human civilization.

There are also the diminutive but industrious deep gnomes (sometimes called red gnomes, for the color of their caps). They enlarge passageways to standard sizes, shore up caves, decorate areas with blocky, angular sculptures, and even cultivate the grow of crystalline rock candy outcroppings that so many creatures use for sustenance. It is quite likely that a great under-city like Troglopolis would not be possible but for their efforts. Deep Gnomes are collectivist, owning everything in common and valuing the public good above all. Other species are sometime derisive of them, even destroying the gnomes’ work when it suites them, but the deep gnomes seem oblivious to such affronts, wholly content in their labor.

Welcome to the (Castle) Machine

Art by Jeremy Duncan

Castle Machina is the palace and workshop of Viola, the Clockwork Princess of the Country of Yanth. It sits at the center of a walled compound of laboratories, workshops, and barracks accommodating the Princess's gnomic associates.

The castle was built from the legendary Walking Castle of Mirabilis Lum. The old artificer reportedly chose the location because of the caves beneath. Using automaton workers, Lum turned the upper cave levels in laboratories--then disappeared into them, never to be seen again. His castle sat empty for a time, them artificers, tinkerers, and would-be treasure hunters descended upon it to scavenge Lum's secrets. Some fell to cunning traps Lum had left behind, but most lost their lives to simple heedlessness regarding the castle's dangers.

Over time, a tribe of gnomes was able to make a home in the castle and even began remodeling it to their needs. Their triumph only lasted a handful of years before they accidentally released a creature part-machine, part-ogre, Clanking Borgo, that made himself the castle's ruler. He enslaved the gnomes and exacted tribute from passing river traffic. This state of affairs lasted until the Princess arrived from places unknown to vanquish the ogre and very shortly thereafter be declared ruler of the whole country by the Wizard.

Despite being the center of the Princess's government, the castle has not being completely tamed. Oozes and slimes--the results of failed experiments and alchemical wastes--seep through the depths beneath. Dangerous automata and magical curiosities from all of Lum's travels lurk in forgotten rooms, waiting to be re-activated. There are even rumored to be unguarded portals to other worlds.

Tales of Two Cities

The Witchocracy of Ix is perhaps the most vexing of the lands across the Wastes to the north to Azurth, but it is not the only one. It is one of three descendants of the dreaded Empire of the Barbarous Name, which was so feared that its very name was stricken from any record so that no one might speak it aloud and inadvertently evoke a ritual of resurrection. The only parts of that feared land and its hexadecagrammaton known to have survived are Ix, Yai, and Zed.

Yai
Many rumors and legends circulate regarding Yai, but all truth is hidden beneath a massive dome, ensconced in a remote mountain valley. It is widely known as the "Pleasure Dome of Yai", as tales tell of travelers being received by a youthful, beautiful, and most solicitous folk, eager to fulfill the travelers' every need and desire--save one. The folk of Yai are said never to age and never to tire of serving others; they are so devoted, that they demure from allowing their guests to leave, no matter how strenuously they state their desire to do so. One of the most peculiar stories told about Yai is that one of its pleasures is a game that somehow involves manipulation of the people beyond Yai. This "god-game" is rumored to be one of the most addictive of Yai's many pleasures.

Art by Alayna Lemmer

Zed
One of the peculiarities of the Mysteriarchy of Zed, the City of Wizards, is that no non-initiate may recall both the location of its gates and their passwords at the same time. The location of the city itself is well known; geographers with their particular thaumaturgy have fixed it in place to the north of Azurth and the Waste and the east of Ix and Yai. (Though, one must recall, the geographer has a luxury of imprecision not afforded the traveler.) Even still, an eidolon or mirage of the city is given to wandering. It has been glimpsed in many places but always to the north near the horizon, shimmering like heat-haze, staying forever out of reach--until it disappears entirely. The city gates are much less elusive but just as unpredictable; one might find them on a sheer cliff face in Sang, standing on a small isle in the midst of bubbling mudpots in the vicinity of Demonland, or in the back of a poorly lit Rivertown larder. The Wizard of Azurth, for all his presumed might, has never been invited to join the citizenry of Zed and so puts a great deal of effort into trying to find a way through these gates.

Places of Note in Yanth

Apiaria: The Hive City of the Bee Folk and center of the domain of their Queen, Melitta XLI. Relations between the humans of Yanth and the bee folk have been pleasant but formal for some time. Wealthy Rivertown folk imbue an antiaging tonic made from bee folk royal jelly.

Castle Machina: Just outside of Rivertown, an old castle is the workshop-palace of the Clockwork Princess Viola I of Yanth. The barracks, sheds, and small laboratories around it are known as "Mechanicstown" and house the tinker gnomes and others that assist the Princess.

The Enchanted Wood: An ancient and dense forest north of Rivertown where the plant and animal life encountered is very often capable of speech. It is said to be the domain of an old and eccentric druid.

The Great Standing Stone Sages: A circle of eight monolithic stone heads in which reside the intellects of great sages of a past age. Their names and their scholarly specialties are: Whindbog the Historian, Blathrur the Astronomer, Pomphus the Philologist, Laangvynd the Geographer, Eggedd the Scientist, Baombast the Physician, Drohninon the Mathematician, and Nowhitaul the Theologian. These learned minds may be consulted by touching their respective stone, allowing telepathic communication as long as the contact is maintained. They will answer questions put to them, though they tend to do so with a degree of irritation and condescension.

Horologopolis: A subkingdom in the Country of Yanth where many aspects of the lives of its citizenry are predetermined at birth by extensive application of the astrological and numerologic sciences. Horoscopes are prepared and zealously tracked and rechecked through a citizen’s lifetime by the great tabulating engines controlled by the Master Time Keeper, a giant, many-armed construct with a head like a clock face. Those who stray from their appointed role or seek to alter their fate in significant ways are corrected by his agents, the more humanoid, but likewise clockfaced, Watchmen.

Rivertown: Largest city in Yanth, at the confluence of the Yellow and Flint Rivers. It's a center for trade and home of an infamous, waterborne, red-light district called (appropriately) "The Floating World."

The Clang of Steel in Sang

Art by Phil Saunders

"Sang, the southern country of Azurth, is an exotic and barbaric land, separated from more civilized Azurth by rim of mountains that scholars say may by the remnants of an ancient encounter with a fallen star. The tiny kingdoms and tribes are given to strange customs and prone to violence. Still, Sang's warrior queen Bellona is widely-famed as a great heroine of the age."

-  A History of the Land of Azurth

High Concept: An exotic land of swashbuckling adventure where a warrior queen fights to establish justice and law.
Conspectus: A land devastated by an ancient cataclysm; the half-buried remnant of a ship from another world; dwarves made of metal with alien technology; nonhuman warriors with a fierce code; barbaric city-states with strange cultures; a red-skinned, superhuman warrior queen hatched from an egg, who won't take a lover who can't best her in combat.
Media Inspirations: The Mars and Venus stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs; The Thongor and World's End novels of Lin Carter; DC Comics' Warlord and Claw the Unconquered; Dark Sun.

Art by Jay de Foy

Demonland

Art by quiteproustian

The promiscuousness of infernal beings is well-known, so it isn't surprising that by-blows of their trysts are found among mortals. While rare in most of the world, those with infernal blood are the majority of the populous in Demonland¹, a city-state across the mephitic Wastes from the Country of Sang. Why so many descendants of infernal bloodlines should be found in one place is a mystery, but perhaps the area had a sulfurous air of hominess for their grandsires and granddams.

Demonland proper is built upon a cluster of small islands in a lake formed by hot springs. The boiling, caustic, malodorous waters are a perfect defense --though they also make life less pleasant for the inhabitants. Demonland’s potable water comes from filtered rainwater collect in cisterns and also by magical purification of the water of the lake itself. The city is only accessible by boat and all goods and visitors make the trip over by ferry.

Demonland is nominally ruled by a Duke (or Duchess), and though this ruler’s power is theoretically absolute, it is most commonly exercised in throwing lavish revelries at which the true rulers of the city go masked. These princes (and their masks) represent the seven capital vices exalted in Demonlander religion and culture. The prince of each vice is officially appointed by the Duke but in practice is more or less elected by general consensus, as the Duke shrewdly defers to the inclinations of the mob. They serve for an indefinite tenure, usually a year and a day. The princes are meant to most perfectly embody their vice, and would-be candidates campaign vigorously (all except the candidates for Prince of Sloth, of course) for the title by engaging in the most audacious (and public) displays of sinfulness to capture the jaded hearts of the populous. The princes hold absolute authority with regard to the practice of the vice they personify and make legal proclamations and levy taxes or duties that might be pertinent as they see fit. They are allowed to keep a percentage of any monies collected for themselves.

Diabolism is the state religion of Demonland. It inverts the morality of most human faiths, promoting vice and condemning virtue. Self-interest and the pursuit of pleasure are valued over altruism and self-denial; Greed and vanity are extolled, and charity and modesty condemned. Demonlanders, however, are only a trifle less likely to fall short of the ideals of their faith than folk elsewhere, so their practice of immorality is as prone to lapses as the practice of morality in other lands.

Art by Arthur Asa

1. The correct demonym is "Demonlander." Never call a Demonlander a "demon" as this is both inaccurate and rude. "Tiefling" is just as bad.

Dark Days in Noxia

"Noxia, the northern country of Azurth, was once a region as bright and as hopeful as any other. Its Princess might be said to have been a bit moody, true, and given to overly romantic notions, perhaps, but she was young. Such things are not unexpected. It was her misfortune to fall in love with a witch. A witch with a vengeful former lover and partner in crime. Tragedy was the result, as one might well imagine: curses of eternal sleep, pacts made with dark powers, and a land cast into perpetual shadow."

-  A History of the Land of Azurth

High Concept: A fairytale kingdom gone post-apocalyptic under the rule of a Dark Queen.
Conspectus: the Sun and the Moon permanently eclipsed by a shadow moon; the blighted land and depopulated settlements stalked by humanoids, monsters, and undead; isolated human settlements under the thumb of dark elf overlords; treacherous mountain peaks; a valley of giant thorns; a vampire queen and her gargoyle minions.
Media Inspirations: The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe and The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis; Maleficent (2014); the "evil queen" portions of Snow White and the Huntsman (2012); the stuff having to do with the Necromancer in Peter Jackson's Hobbit films, Hammer's "Karnstein Trilogy", Winkie Country in The Wizard of Oz (1939); Eva Green as Morgan Pendragon in the Camelot TV series. Just about anything with a country under the rule of a Dark Lord might have something.

Art by Alberto Bontempi

Witches of Ix

Art by Ian Miller

It is likely you will never have cause to visit the land of Ix, and in this, you should consider yourself lucky. The only exception might be those who have the misfortune to live in blighted, ghoul-haunted Noxia. To you Noxians an oft cold and mostly gloomy land of forests, bogs, and mountains, infested with goblins and ruled by witches, may not seem so dire. Remember though that you must cross the toxic badlands of the Waste to get there.

Ix has only one town worthy of note, and it cowers in the shadow of Hexenghast, an impossibly large and sprawling castle built beyond the memory of Ixians. Hexenghast is large enough to accommodate the four Great Houses of Ixian Witches and their various servants, mercenaries, guests, and prisoners. In fact, it is so large it houses these individuals and still has a great many halls and rooms that are unoccupied and perhaps unexplored for centuries.

Art by Yoshitaka Amano

A grand coven of the leaders of the Great Houses rules Hexenghast (no mean feat, given all the infighting and intrigue). The management of the rest land is done by lower level witches with mundane human and goblin subordinates. Mostly they are concerned with the collection of Hexenghast's due in taxes and farm goods, but they also suppress any unauthorized practice of magic and promulgate state propaganda.

There is an order of witches known as the Witchfinders. These cloaked figures appear within a day of the birth of any child in Ix. Every newborn is examined, and if the child bear some witches' mark, it's whisked off to Hexenghast and given over to one house or another to raise. When the children come of age, they cross the flickering Ghostlight Bridge that spans the chasm between Hexenghast proper and the sub-castle of the Scholomance. There, they are tutored in the dark arts until they are ready to assume their adult role in Witch society.

It has been the custom for new graduates of the Scholomance to spend some time abroad before settling into Hexenghast, engaging in the sort of infamies that youths who are schooled in the Dark Arts and confident in their own superiority are wont to engage in. This was the context in which Angvaine and Nocturose crossed into Noxia all those years ago.

Art by Yoshitaka Amano

Fortress of Fear

Tales say the grim citadel congealed from a wanly luminous cloud that came down from ulterior stars. Surrounded by a blasted landscape, cloaked in mists, it crouches like some alien crustacean, black, hunched, and spined.  It thrums always with a sound part machine and part beating heart, and that sound is the insistent hunger of the Fear Lords.

Art by Mitch Grave

These Lords are well named; they draw their sustenance from the emotion fear in all its varieties. For eons they have been shut outside; only their hunger can reach into the cosmos. On this world and all the others where the fortress has appeared, they have fed through the actions of the master of the fortress. A creature with a face like a mask of flexible bone, he is their emissary, their general, and their will and soul. He commands their legions of terror: automatons powered by the soul-remnants of captives who died in abject fear in the fortress's chambers of horrors.

Art by digitalinkrod

War Machines of the Toxic Wastes

There is a vast desert, a creation of the Great Wars, where ancient, giant war machines decay into the poison dust. Limbs rust-ravaged and twisted; ichor clotted in their arteries, they look dead. Their energies are long spent, but the machines aren't dead. A power source can awaken them from their millennia-long slumber. They once ran on energy distilled from the bones of gods, but the machines are versatile. Even blood will do.

The cults that worship them with sacrifices and the sorcerer's that seek to control them agree the machines can be made to serve, but all if the proper incantations, called "command codes" are uttered. Even knowing the proper incantations, commanding an ancient war machine is not without it's perils. The spells of the ancients that bond them to service have faded over time, and the war machines have become more willful, if no less violent.

[Hey, kids! Want to randomly generate your own giant war machines? Just use Jack Shear's Random Automaton Generator and embiggen the damage on account of giantness. Also, you might want to replace the "humanoid" rolls on the chart with some of the other body shapes suggested in the comments.]

Worlds of the Vokun Empire

by Arve Sellesbakk

EBEN: (Primary: Ushkalish, F9.5) The homeworld of the ibglibdishpan--or at least where they are found currently. Eben is a highly ordered world where everyone knows their place, assigned by aptitude testing in adolescence. The importance of their service to the vokun is stressed in all facets of ibglibdishpan life.

by Sam Mulqueen

UTU-AN: (Primary: Matari ) The watery world of the aquatic Dragon Mothers and their human worshipers/pets the kuath.

Art by Fernando Rodrigues

YANTRA: (Primary: Suryana, G7V) The paradise (before the arrival of the vokun) inhabited by the primitive humanoids called the Yantrans.The vokun occupation has been plagued by a number of unusual setbacks.

Graustarkian Karameikos

The Grand Duchy of Karameikos is a small nation in the Balkans on the Adriatic Sea. It has a long history going back to ancient times when the Romans built a fort and founded a trading outpost at Specularum--now Karameikos's capital, Spekla. Since those days, Karameikos has been in the hands of a succession of empires: the Byzantine, the Serbian, the Ottoman, and briefly, the Austro-Hungarian.

The current ruler of Karameikos is Stefan III. He has retained the title of "Grand Duke" despite his nation's liberation from Austria-Hungary. Grand Duke Stefan and most of the nobility trace their families back to Byzantium, but rule over an ethnically mixed populace of Albanians and Serbs, as well as Greeks. The predominant religion is the Orthodox Church of Karameikos, though there are also Muslims and a small number of Roman Catholics.

Believed to be the only photo of the leader of the Black Eagle

One of the greatest threats to modern Karameikos is the terrorist group known as the Black Eagle. The group is vaguely related to Albanian nationalism, but its direct aims seem to be criminality and destabilization of the current government. It's leader is named either Ludwig or Henrich. As his name would suggest, he is said to be of Austrian descent. His primary advisor and bomb-maker is believed to be a former monk named Bargle.

The Mad Monk Bargle, while briefly in custody

This post relates to my previous Ruritanian ruminations--and of course to D&D's Known World.

Serpent in Paradise

The official vokun assessment of Yantra was that it had little to offer the Empire. It's natives were primitive (at best they had mastered iron) and demonstrated a pervasive culture of nonviolence so ingrained that they were insuitable for military conscription. The ibglibdishpan analysts verified that there had once by an advanced civilization on Yantra: the environment had been finely tuned, nanotechnology (though dormant) still permeated the biosphere, and seemingly primitive stone structures (shrines, mostly, for the superstitious Yantrans) actually showed complex femto-level engineering.

Obviously, the primitives had no knowledge of these technologies, and there was no indication they ever did. The vokun are an incurious species. They assumed some great pre-Collapse civilization had left its mark and moved on. Yantra was only usefully as a pleasure world; it's mostly tropical clime and pliant, simpleminded, and exotically attractive populace provided an ideal place of relaxation for vokun nobility.

The ibglibdishpan were vexed by the anomalies. It only took a few in the continuing series of seemingly random network and equipment failures that have plagued the Imperial conquest of Yantra for them to deduce the truth. They were not at all surprised when vokun junior officers began to disappear or have unusal accidents--never frequently enough to arouse suspicion on the part of the vokun, but a detectable statistical signal, nonetheless. For reasons known only to them, the ibglibdishpan have kept their conclusions to themselves.

The Finer Elements of Inner Planar Adventuring

It's not an uncommon complaint on the internet that the Elemental Planes are boring because they're featureless expanses of the same thingm, which is sort of like saying dungeons are boring because thy're just empty spaces underground, or wilderness adventures are dullsville because it's just a whole bunch of trees. Most environments are probably not in and of themselves terribly interesting. They're interesting because of (a) what you can put in them and (b) the additional challenges their nature presents to PCs. I would also say that the Elemental Planes can be an interesting cosmological element in a setting even if not viewed as a place to go adventuring, but it's "place for adventuring" I'm going to focus on here.

First off, the Elemental Planes as typically described are for the most part pretty hostile to human life. I don't think that's a bad thing, necessarily. High level adventurers have access to a lot of great technology (i.e. magic) to protect themselves. Guarding against equipment failure and avoiding changing conditions certainly creates a lot of tension in science fiction books and movies; there's no reason it can't be put to similar effect in gaming. It's resource management that's more than just counting.

Here are some brief ideas and inspirations for Elemental Plane adventures:

Air
This one's probably the easiest, with flying creatures, cities on clouds and the like. I would draw some inspiration from sci-fi imaginings of life in the atmosphere of gas giants. The plane of air should only be featureless like space is featureless: there should be pieces of stuff falling/tumbling through it. There should be air-dwelling Portuguese man o' war type things and air-whales like living zeppelins that one can travel or even live on. Reliance on the strongest air streams for travel would ensure that there were certain air caravan routes.
Inspirations: the Cloud City of Bespin in The Empire Strikes Back, the Star Trek episode "The Cloud-Miners," The Mysterious Explorations of Jasper Morello, Castle in the Sky (1986), Last Exile.

Fire
Fire is like a really big star, though it's surface is much cool. There would be islands of rock (and by islands, I mean things bigger that continents) floating across it, or great metal craft drifting through it's smoke-choked corona. It would, of course, be populated (though perhaps not exclusively) by beings (jinn?) composed of Fire who did very similar stuff to Prime Material humans but were fiery while doing it.
Inspirations: Any Adventure Time episode dealing with the Fire Kingdom, the neutron star life of Forward's Dragon's Egg, parts of Sunshine (2007), Secrets of the Fire Sea by Stephen Hunt.

Earth
This plane is a huge sphere (or block or tesseract, or whatever) of rock, riddled with tunnels and chambers. In other words, it's a dungeon in three dimensions. It's sci-fi asteroid mining and molerat sapients, too.
Inspirations: Dig Dug, the Star Trek episode "Devil in the Dark," Derinkuyu.

Water
Like Air, it's fairly easy to see what to put into the Plane of Water, but maybe difficult to see why you wouldn't just do that stuff on a Prime Material ocean. I would say it's like an extraterrestrial ocean planet: You can make it far more exotic than you would the oceans of your main campaign world. Societies would have vertical and horizontal borders. Different depth layers would be like different levels of a dungeon, except (depending on how science fictional you got) adventurers might need increasing pressure protection to descend to the next level.
Inspirations: Neptune's Brood by Charles Stross, The Abyss (1989), Finding Nemo, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Blue Submarine No. 6, Sub-Mariner, Aquaman, and Abe Sapien comics.

Worlds in the Ring

Circus is one of the Strange Stars' great wonders. No one knows who built the megastructure (it may even predate the Archaic Oikumene and be pre-human), but whoever it was had mastered technology beyond the reach of current civilization. It's gigantic ring has a radius of 1.9 million km and a width of about 1000 km, giving it a habitable surface area roughly 20 times that of Old Earth. It's rotational period is 24 hrs and it's tilted so that it's inhabitants experience roughly earth-like night and day. It's open to space, but centrifugal force and an upper "mesh" of radiation filtering nano hold a breathable atmosphere in.

In a system bordered by the Zuran Expanse, the Alliance, and the Instrumentality sphere, Circus has long been a center of trade. Its ruins attest to several stages of colonization by the human phyle. Modern, non-wilderness or waste sections of the great ring are a crazy quilt of petty kingdoms, communes, and experimental societies. These are the "zones"--or at least partial zones. The minimum size required of a political body for the term to be used is the subject of controversy. 

The most famous area of Circus is actually a free city--actually a megapolis or ecumenopolis--without a single name. It's most often called Interzone, though it's vast spaceport-adjacent tourist area is known as the Strip. Interzone's boundaries are vague, but including all of it's favelas and industrial parks, it covers an an area only a little less than the surface area of Sol IV (Mars). 

Spacers say there is no law in Interzone, but this is not strictly true. Rather it's a demarchy with minimalist government. The Wise Minds (a group of ancient infosophonts) select via lottery the anonymous rulers of the city--the Tsadikim--from among the populous. A Tsadik may serve for a few days or for a lifetime, based on the real-time evaluation of the Wise Minds. Every Tsadik (with the advice of the Minds) can create new laws at whim, though these must be approved by a majority of the other Tsadikim. Likewise, any Tsadik can supercede the decree of another with the same procedure. Tsadik can settle disputes among the populace themselves or a trial with a judge (this decision too is subject to review by the others).

The only immutable laws of Interzone are "property and self are sacred", "self-defense and common defense are a justification for violence", and "a contract is a contract."

Man and Machine

Telos is an artificial moon orbitting through the failed planetary dust cloud of a red dwarf in the Coreward Reach. The dust cloud is stalked by vicious hunter-killer satellites that vaporize any ship without the proper codes. Telos's isolation has allowed a strange society to flourish: It's rulers are moravecs ruling over a slave class of baseline humans and hear humans.

The moravecs claim to be followers of an ai prophet called Iskander Null-A who taught that the human clade (and perhaps biosophonts in general) were actually the flawed creation of moravecs in crude imitation of their own creator, the Monad. Human history to the contrary is false and designed to oppress moravecs.

The Telosians rarely interact with the outside world; Telos is largely self-contained. The humans living their are born in artificial wombs to a life of servitude--if they're lucky. The Telosians aren't usually cruel to their slaves, but do enjoy gladiatorial battles where humans are forced to fight--perhaps to the death--for the moravec's entertainment.

Telosians that, for whatever reason, have to spend time among the other sophonts of the Strange Stars often change their perceptual settings, so that they perceive all biosophonts as moravecs to protect their delicate sensibilities.

All That Glitters

Orichalcos is one of the richest worlds in the Strange Stars and certainly the preeminent economic power in the Coreward Reach. Thanks to a well-branched and "high bandwidth" hyperspace node, Orichalcos's spaceport sees visitors from across the known galaxy.

The Orichalcosans are a human subspecies, differing from baseline only in their metallic skin tones, ranging from a dusky brass color to a bright gold. There are two distinct populations of Orichalcosans: the aristocracy (called--ironically--the "Most High") who are dwarfs, and the commoners who have typical human height. The aristocrats and their retinues live in a series of domed habitats on the planet's surface. The environment of Orichalcos is inhospitable to human life, so the rest of the population lives in hundreds of orbital habitats encircling the world.

Other than official ceremonies, the aristocrats spend their time in leisure pursuits. Most play virtually no roll in administering whatever industrial or trade monopoly their title has granted them. Discussions of the business of making money is considered beneath their class, and leaving the Glitter Domes for any extended period risks seeing their social standing suffer. Maintaining a social media presence (often followed obsessively by the lower classes) both brings prestige and keeps interest in their businesses high.

The actually day to day operation of the businesses of Orichalcos is done by a class of capitalists known as the Optimates. Traditionally, this title was bestowed only on the CEOs of the various monopolies, but now is applied to the wealthiest business people, whatever their exact roll. The Optimates collect the profits from  the various monopolies and support the aristocrats (technically their owners) with generous allowances. The rest of the money is theoretically to be held in a trust for the aristocrat, but clever accounting ensures most is reinvested or paid out in bonuses.

How much the classes beneath Optimate reap the rewards of Orichalcosan prosperity depends to a degree on the habitat they live in. However, as whole, Orichalcosans don't enjoy the degree of social support that similarly wealthy and advanced societies provide. Relative austerity and wealth inequality are seen as powerful motivating tools necessary to create future generations of successful Optimates.

Orichalcosan Characters: Have the same stats as regular humans.

Touring the Strange Stars

The great luxury star liners afford passengers the opportunity to see the civilized worlds in high style--and their are no more opulent ships in known space than those in our Galburac-class. These vessels provide accommodations and recreation for thousands of guests in a variety of different artificial environments.

An endless party awaits travelers, enlivened by stops at exotic resorts and a full array of the latest recreational cybernetics and chemicals.

But these festivities are only a small part of the recreational experiences our star liners offer...

When on safari in our hunting preserve habitats, make sure to follow the instructions of the djägga guides. They'll be sure to remind you that blushing shraik always travel in mating pairs!

Or for those looking for adventure of a more spiritual variety, an aero-sled ride through the canopy of the jungles of Dodona surrounds you in the songs (both auditory and psychic) of its contemplative trees.

Book your star liner cruise today!

Mesa of the Sky-Vikings

In the Hidden Land beyond a cave in the Superstition Mountains, there is an imposing, solitary mesa rising above the jungle. The mesa is some 1200 feet tall and steep-sided. Its flat top is about 900 ft. long and 400 ft. across at its widest. Located there are the longhouses and fortress of the Sky-Vikings.

Interbreeding with captives from the jungle tribes and exposure to the tropical sun and turned their pale complexions darker, but they often retain the fair hair of their ancestors. Their material cultural is similar, but adapted to their surroundings.

Most dramatically, they have replaced their forebears seagoing raids with aerial attacks. The Sky-Vikings have domesticated the pteranodons that nest on the mesa and use them as mounts. As there society depends on the raids for most of their food and raw materials, they train from a young age to command the flying beasts. Their society is male-dominated; only rarely are women able to prove themselves as pteranodon-riding raiders. Some jarls are more permissive than others, however.

The Sky-Vikings know the working of metal,and have metal spearheads, knives, and short-swords. The rarely waist their limited supplies on armor.

Dragons & Wizards

Located in the Coreward Reach, Rune is a world at a medieval level of technology, ruled by wizards and bedeviled by monsters--or so it appears. Though few visit due to the xenophobic nature of its inhabitants and its remote location (there is no reliable local gate), tales report that it bears an uncanny resemblance to fantasy sims, including the existence of what appears to be magic.

It's surmised that Rune was either modified as a pleasure world or as a work of art (ancient posthumans had both the technology and whimsy to accomplish such things). There are hints of this artificiality, though its biosphere is not as well-managed as it once was. Still, human diseases are fewer than on wild worlds and clerical authorities provide advanced healing through "relics" (actually well-disguised medical devices).

The magical powers of its ruling class of wizards are thought to be psi-talents, though they seem to exhibit some abilities uncommon (if not unknown) in the rest of the galaxy. Most of their power seems to lie in the ability to generate illusions. They also make use of allies like the fairy--who seem to be nothing more than local tribes of quicklings.

The most fearsome foes of the wizards and their people are the dragons. The dragons are large bipeds (about 3 m tall, with tails roughly as long), vaguely reptilian in appearance with psi abilities of their own. They are theorized to be the degenerate descendants of the stranded crew of either an exploratory vessel or a military scoutship. The adolescent dragons of today are social creatures most numerous in equatorial areas,  but older adults are mostly solitary and establish large territories. They are aware of humans' intelligence, but view them as animals and potential (though not preferred) prey. Periodically (Perhaps it relates to ancient mating cycles?) dragons become extremely acquisitive, gathering or stealing items of value, particularly shiny objects, and lining their lairs with them.

The humans of Rune try to kill or drive away any dragon near a civilized area. Despite the dragon's size and intelligence, the more populace humans might have driven them to extinction if not for the fact the wizard's value them for other reasons: Certain neuroendocrine glands of the dragons contain chemicals that they believe enhance their "magic"

Runic Dragons
No. Appearing: 1-4
AC: 3
HD: 8
Saving Throw: 11
Attack Bonus: +8/+8/+8
Damage: 2 claws (1d6), 1 bite (2d8)
Movement: 30’
Morale: 10
Special Abilities: psionics like a Psychic of 6th level.