Descriptions for Hypothetical Hexes

In a clearing at a crossroads A Llanowauk warrior, bloody-eyed from overuse of stimulants harvested from Ancient caches, stands atop an overturned, giant, green stone head of a scowling god or demon. He loudly proclaims his strength and puissance at arms and calls for challengers. Despite well-worn state of his other possessions, his sword has an uncanny gleam.

On shores of the Lake of Vermilion Mists nearly naked female divers are inspecting their haul of rare ultramarine scintilla. Here and there their bodies bear what appear to be wave-like, mauve tattoos, darkened to the color of fresh bruises in the lake’s lurid, roiling glow, but are actually scars from the lash of urulu tentacles. The divers become tolerant to the hallucinogenic effects over time but not the pain, so they try to snatch the scintilla when the urulu are lost in courtship combat dances.

A gigantic fallen tree serves as a bridge over a deep ravine, but an arachnoid free manshonyagger makes its lair on the tree's underside and on occasion will catch and devour passersby. It cannot but heed its Ancient deep programming, so a human or humankin may command it, but only with the proper codes. The bottom of the gorge bears the possessions and bones of those who have passed before and not recalled them.

A domed inselberg rising from the forest is reputed to be haunted. Daily at solar noon, two identical angelic combatants, milk-white with prismatic-feathered wings, and large, bird-like eyes, grapple in the air above. Neither is ever able to overcome the other, and though their blows land with such force that onlookers claim they can feel shockwaves from them, there is never any sound. When the hour passes, they shrink and fade like shadows before the moving sun.

These are from this world.

The Strange Lights and Noxious Odors of Murk

A Murkman, likely named Grundy

Murk is a marshy island of scrub and small stands of cypress, frequently shrouded in a malodorous, yellow-gray fog and inhabited by a dour people, aloof from the raucous society of Polychrome and the other inhabited Motley Isles. The people of the island may be one extended clan of pale and course-featured folk.

The Grundys (as they all seem to be named) are not of a piratical inclination, but instead harvest mussels and net fish that they trade with the Motley pirates for practical goods. They are also known for the product of  The disposition of the Grundys discourages visitors, though the ever-present miasma is likely more of a deterrent.

On some nights, variegated illuminations move through the fog, and its dullness is pierced by winking, dancing will-o’wisps. These lights are most prominent on nights of the new moon, when the sharp-eared also claim to hear strange music and other sounds of merriment emanating from the island.

Big Fin & the Prismatic Hole

West of the Land of Azurth in the Boundless Sea, lie the Motley Isles. Polychrome, the pirate haven, is the most famous of the chain, but not the only one that draws visitors.

Art by Bill Peet

Big Fin is a long, narrow isle, but a short distance from Polychrome. The second largest island of the group, it is dominated by a fin-shaped limestone ridge with bands of color going from vermilion to pink to yellow. Few people live here permanently, owing to the difficult terrain, though some exiles from Polychrome squat on its shores. The rocks, however, provide nesting places for the iridescent red-headed gillygaloo, whose square eggs with large speckles are used in dice games and divination, and whose dodecahedral gizzard stones are sought as good-luck charms. The birds themselves are edible, but the superstitious egg-hunters will only do so in the direst of circumstances.

The Lurid Lair of the Froghemoth is a small, roundish cay and the most distant of the chain from the mainland. Its central lagoon is also known as the Prismatic Hole. It is a saltwater sinkhole with rainbow bands of color--indigo in the deep of its center. The legendary froghemoth has long been said to inhabit the depths of the Prismatic Hole, but the beast is seldom sighted. Still, most Motley Pirates avoid the area.

Weird Revisited: Mushrooms, Pigs and Cold Light

This post originally appeared five years ago today. It was one of a few posts looking at the Old World (Ealderde) in Weird Adventures:

The thaumaturgic forces unleashed by the Great War have left much of Ealderde strange. For an example of just how weird this transformation can be, one need look no farther than Lumière,the former capital of Neustrie and the Gallian Alliance. Once Lumière’s lights were emblematic of a city that never slept, a place of art and culture. Today, Lumière is a bombed out ruin, and the amber luminescence that crawls or flows through its streets and buildings is something of another world.

The thing is alive; almost everyone agrees on that, but little they agree on little else. Is it matter? Some gelatinous substance similar to the strange denizens of the underground? Or is it pure energy, somehow thickened and held? If it’s the latter, it’s light with no heat.

In the day, it seems to hide in the skeletons of buildings, perhaps fearing the sun. At night it pours forth and spreads out over whole blocks. Rats and vermin flee it. Living things it touches develop strange tumors or growths. When it first rose, victims caught in its path were left rooted to the spot, transformed into masses of cancer.

The glowing touch of the thing seems to have created at least one mutant species. The wild swine that moved into the city to root and scavenge after the devastation of the war have been changed. They've grown large, and bloated and pale as grubs, with eyes that glow with a paler yellow that the thing. Though they can’t speak, they seem to have evolved an evil intelligence. They roam the streets in herds, seeming to take pleasure in spoiling what remains of the works of man, and looking (though they're hardly picky eaters) for their primary form of sustenance: fungal spores.

The Mushrooms, the swines' unrelenting foes, resent their progency being consumed by the swine with a displeasure that's more cold practicality than horror. These fungal sapients likely lived beneath the city even in previous times (certain legends hint at their presence) but when the humans fled they saw an opportunity. From their inhuman alchemical laboratories they create structures from fungal stock and weaponize molds to strike at the swine and keep humans away.

Looters and treasure seekers make forays into the ruin of Lumière, but it's a dangerous undertaking. Even if the poured-honey creeping of the luminescent thing can be avoided, there are the packs of hungry swine to be outwitted, and the silent and dispassionate Mushroom scientists to be dealt with.

Metaborea

In the Sanguine Desert, the tribes revive the ancient war machines with blood sacrifices and whip themselves to frenzy with howling music and liquor made from the half-clotted ichor siphoned from the machines' lines. Sometimes an Iron Warlord rises, making a pact with a fierce machine, and leads the tribes to sack and pillage cities.

One can still traverse the Wastes, but the old astral road becomes ever more Unreal. A fleet matagot is the swiftest and surest way to go, but agree on the price beforehand, for matagot's are always ravenous at the end of a long journey.

Art by Enrique Alcatena.

In the Vicinity of the Unthran Wood

The tents of the traveling Carnival Mirabilis are set up on the outskirts of Worroth town. Its owner, Slytus Ompt (known to authorities in various jurisdictions as Feldsphur Zwand and Archim Greff) purveys the usual shabby wonders: ailing chimerical beasts in cramped cages and faded eidolons from damaged ieldra crystals—but he also boasts a free plasmoid duelist who will engage in a nonlethal prizefight with any takers. The plasmoid (its name is a gurgling something like Gwoothl Ploorl) is a thane of a subterranean freehold captured by Ompt and drugged with injections of thrall slime so that it is too weak-willed to escape, though it yearns to be free. It will promise to reveal the location of underground treasures undercovered by its coalescence for aid in making its escape.

by Wayne Barlowe

A roadside shrine draws more pilgrims than might be expected due to its living statue of the Trell mystic, Agakamunath who is said to have physical ascended to a higher plane from that very spot. The full-size statue depicts the giant at the time of Schizopurgation, wherein he split from the primal chaos burdening his soul. Nonbelievers are more fascinated by the artifice of the  Hohmmkhudhuk craftsmen--and the persistent legend that the motions of the statue's limbs in the performance of the mystery provide a clue as to the location of the sky castle Agakamunath also renounced and its treasures.

Half-ruined Maggot Tower, deep in the forest, is avoided by most folk, and not merely because its rugose and twisted spire appears unpleasantly like its namesake. The tower is a relic of the power of a rogue Ieldri queen with an abiding hatred of humans. The tortures she inflicted on captives and the sacrifices to dark gods are said to have left her tower haunted. Some seekers after the magical secrets of the Ieldra and willing to risk phantom horrors for power.

These locales are in the same world as these two posts.

Further Tales of Vo

There are two human(-ish) tribes dwelling in the Vale of Vo. Both are likely the descendants of the folk who crashed their ship into Vo sometime in the distant past, and both claim the ancestral hero of Liberator-Vo.

The Vozerai are a pious people who live an austere and simple life, rejecting of physical pleasures, that dwell in the nose section of the ship. Even dama-fruit is not to be overly enjoyed, lest it lead one to impiety, and from impiety to death in the jaws of the bugbears. This ultimately serves the wheel of life, true, but it is impious to throw away existence lightly. Vozerai society is somewhat theocratic, ruled by cleric scholars, but theses Learned Ones only wield as much power as the number of folk they can sway to their interpretation of the record of accumulated utterances and noises of the bugbears. One thing all Vozerai Learned Ones agree on, whatever their other doctrinal differences, is that the Voyanki are heretics deserving of devouring by bugbears.

The Vozerai are all invisible as is typical from creatures in the Vale of Vo. They have the cultural habit of murmuring or mumbling to themselves, either their inner thoughts or scraps of prayer, so as to make others of their kind aware of their presence. They try to stifle this habit when bugbears may be in hearing.

The Voyanki live in the former tail section of the ship. They hate the preachy, milksop Vozerai for long-nursed but vaguely-remembered grudges, but it may be that they are also a bit jealous. By some trick of heredity, the Voyanki are not completely invisible but only mostly so. Their flesh is utterly transparent and their bones are a very pale white with a faint pinkish tinge. For this reason, Voyanki are somewhat more likely to be meals for the bugbears. They have become into strong warriors for their own defense--and to raid the better supplied Vozerai. The war chants and cries of the Voyanki sound like an attempt to mimic the bugbear voices. Their greatest warriors claim to wear bugbear skull headdresses, but of course, no one has ever seen them.

A Tale of Vo

The Vale of Vo looks pretty enough, but that is because the carnage is invisible. The valley is a demiplane or pocket dimension bound by two tall mountains and a ring of hills. Its small stands of forest and orchards of fruited tress are divided and crossed by cobbled paths and clear brooks and streams; a bucolic tranquility only visibly marred by the strange craft that has crashed awkwardly across it's middle, leaving a scar in its wake. The vessel, too, was injured in its arrival; its torpedo shape is broken along is width, leaving two colorful, enameled chrome sections: nose and tail.

Art by Al Williamson. The ship before the crash, perhaps.

No inhabitants are visible in the Vale of Vo, because every animal in the valley is invisible. They are made so by eating the fruit of the trees: the dama-fruit. The dama-fruit is roughly tear-drop shaped and a pinkish color striped with yellow-green. It's flesh is like a papaya's in texture and tastes something like a grape mixed with a apple with hints of fond childhood memories and notes idle summer days. Consuming of most of one fruit will make a man-size creature invisible for 2d6 hours. Regular consumption of the fruit (at least 5 days) will lead to invisibility for 2d4 days after the last fruit was eaten.

The inhabitants of the valley have had to adapt to this condition. Bats have filled the niche of birds, and some of these sing eerie songs in the dappled tree canopies. The primary predator, the dread bugbear, uses smell to find its prey--which is an imperfect method, but good enough to make the bugbears a great threat to the vale's human denizens.

The humans call the bears "bugbears" because they are something out of nightmares, but also because they make an at-first-faint hissing, buzzing, rustling, droning sound that reminds one of insects, but in truth sounds more like mostly-static on a radio. If one was the stand near a bugbear for long enough (this would not be advisable) one might come to discern a tone behind the surface noise that swells and subsides, and this might precede a low, warped, and crackling voice or voices that would be near unintelligible (if truly there at all) but might repeat numbers or nonsense phrases before being swallowed again by the tone and the noise. Sometimes the voice (or voices) is said to cut sharply and suddenly into the static and to say something with great insistence but no greater clarity.

The occurrence of the voice has lead one group of humans in the Vale to assume the bears are gods or at least speak for the gods. These are the Vozerai. More on them tomorrow.

[freely adapted from Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz by Frank L. Baum]

The Paper Town of Azurth

Paper Town (it is said) in some sense occupies space in the Uncanny Valley in the west of the Country of Yanth, but the most reliable way to gain entry to the town is via a map. Potentially any map will do, but it must be one noting a nonexistent settlement, street or island. These fictitious entries serve as gates to Paper Town.

As is common with magical places, gaining entrance is not as simple as finding a suitable map. Luckily, the legend regarding Paper Town's creation delineates the necessary procedure. Paper Town, as the story says, was a gift given to Princess Hyacinthia of Azurth on the occasion of her birthday by a mysterious stranger. He informed the Princess that she could not visit Paper Town in person, being compose of something other than paper and possessed of general lack of flatness as she was, but her shadow could—with the proper attire. The stranger traced the outline of the Princess’s shadow on a large sheet of paper and cut around its edge. The cutout was taken to a place where the stranger’s map showed a hamlet to be but was not. The cutout vanished, like a piece of paper slid under an unseen door into an equally unseen room.

The fact Hyacinthia never regain her shadow nor have many who have repeated this ritual might give some pause, but that detail is not frequently repeated.

In Paper Town, the cutouts become paper doll doppelgängers of the person that served as their model. These visitors find unfolding streets of pop-up trees and citizenry and flat facades that elaborate to Escher-architectured structures when entered. The city seems endless, but the clever observer will note that it recycles itself to appear so. As the preceding portion grows, the receding part folds up behind. This can happen in any direction: Tall towers erect themselves when an evil sorcerer flies up to his sanctum. Dungeons unfold like inverted houses of cards when heroes go delving. The ostensible ruler of Paper Town, Princess Seven, paper doll of the long dead Queen Hyacinthia, makes the final decision on how "permanent" a new structure is in her city.

One attractive trait of Paper Town is that it conforms to a visitor's imagination in certain ways. Anything one wishes for may be found there, though anything of value is likely to require a quest or be obtained in a way that makes one not want it after all. In other words, Paper Town adheres to laws of story.

The archons or godlings that truly rule Paper Town enforce this reality zealously. These Great Tall Tailors, or Scissor Men as they are sometime called, will catch paper doll visitors who are ill-fitted for the story the Tall Tailors wish told and snip, snap, snip, reshape them into a more pleasing arrangement. The Tall Tailors are paper themselves (Or perhaps they are the shapes left when slender, lank-limbed manshapes are cut of paper?) save for their gleaming, scissor hands. Their shadows are also Tailors but their shadow-scissors cut the spirit exclusively while their metallic doubles cut the physical.

It is said that the Book of Doors, a book where every page is a portal to another place, originated in Paper Town, but how it came to be in the wider Land of Aurth is unknown.

Heroes of the Islands

art by Herb Kāne

Erene was the most beautiful woman in the world, so beautiful that it was said she was the daughter of the Sky God Tiwo, who had lain with the wife of the Chieftain of Raketaminio. She was married to Mengerao son of Ateru, but stolen by Prince Palitisi of Taloia. Mengerao called upon his brother, Akakamuna, mighty chief of Mukanai, his face tattooed with the likeness of the tusk and whiskers of the boar, for aid, and a great host was assembled and there war canoes made for Taloia, with cunning Uluihi, veteran Nehetoru, and strong Aiwaha among them. Greatest in battle would be the demigod Akirihi, who would dance his war dance before palisades of Taloia and kill its champion E’etolo with his shark-toothed war club.

So, basically: Why not recast the Greek Age of Heroes in a pseudo-Polynesian fantasy Oceania? Here's a list of gods (with name variants):

Tiwo/Kiwe: Sky God
Era/Ela: His wife
Emā: Messanger god
Are/Ale: War god
Tiwonuho/Kiwonuho: God of kava and beer
Apaitio/Apaikio: Volcano god.
Pāwone/Aparanu: God of song
Pohetahone/Pohekao: Sea god.
Atana/Akana: Goddess of Wisdom
Atamito/Akemike: Shark goddess of the hunt
Apatite/Apakiki: Love and fertility goddess
Ehatia/Ehakia: Goddess of the cook fires
Tamate/Kamaki: Goddess of cultivated crops, particularly sweet potato and taro

The Motley Isles

The Motley Isles lie but a few miles from the coast of the Country of Yanth in the Boundless Sea. The islands are known as a haven of pirates who value their freedom above all else, except perhaps the plunder they take from hapless ships.  Vessels that call the Motley Isles their home often fly a distinctive flag: a skull and crossbones emblazoned on a crazy-quilt pattern.

The only settlement of note on the isles is Polychrome. The authorities in Yanth and the Land of Azurth in general paint Polychrome (and the Isles in general) as a place without law, but this is not entirely correct. Polychrome has few codified laws, its true (other than those governing apportioning of shares of loot and the sanctity of property) but disputes between between individuals or groups of folk are settled in a prescribed manner. In the town hall of Polychrome there is an ancient, oracular device: a black sphere marked with a skull and crossbones.

The origins of the device are obscure, but it is doubtful that it was made the Land of Azurth. It is operated by shaking it and reading its pronouncement in a window on the underside. The answers it provides requires some interpretation, and that is provided by the officiants who perform the ritual. Such is the aversion of the pirates to anything that smacks of governmental service, they rely on press gangs to force citizens into service.

Along the River

In the Land of Azurth, in the Country of Yanth, the Yellow River stretches some two hundred languid miles when it chooses to do so from its meeting with the Flint at Rivertown to its settling into the Boundless Sea near Ianthine.

Art by Cyril Corallo

It intermingles with smaller, less ambitious waterways in bottom land swamp in the vicinity of the Shanty City, Lardafa, home to thieves, beggars, and gentlefolk of the road. Sometimes travelers down the river glimpse one of the elusive Heaps in this area.

It accepts the azure tears from the blue hole spring called Deep Blue, near the village of Yonder. The hole is said to be so deep that Yonder fishermen sometime find things bobbing up from other worlds. In the woods near Yonder there's rumored to be the cabin of a witch, perhaps the infamous Urzaba, who loves card games and has a very short temper.

art from Privateer Press

Is it nears the coast, it almost loses itself meandering through the Great Yellow Marshes. Here dwell tribes of mostly friendly frox and mostly unfriendly gator-folk.

After the Flood

After a weekend of heavy rain and flooding in this neck of the woods, some uses of floods and their aftermaths in games is on my mind. There's what I've got:

The Lost City: Inundated coastal cities might become lost or at least legendary. Ys is a good example. There's typically a mystery here or at least potent magic. It might be a whole area to explore, or just a bit of weirdness in a campaign.

Looting the Depths: Jesse Bullington's The Folly of the World includes an attempted theft in town submerged by the Saint Elizabeth's Flood of 1421(the 20th worst flood in history). "Moon fishing" is apparently the term for treasure among the ruins of the towns flooded by China's Three Gorges Dam. Looting underwater would present special challenges for adventurers and a different array of monsters than the usual.

Something Strange Beneath the Surface: You already know about aquatic elves and aquatic trolls, but let's got deeper. In Swamp Thing #38, Alan Moore presents an aquatic mutation of vampires in the submerged town of Rosewood, Illinois. Any monster can have an aquatic variant but the key to making them non-mundane is having them by one-offs in unusual circumstances.

A Strange Sargasso Sea Appendix N

How's that for narrow focus? I've done a nautical fantasy inspiration list before, but that's no reason not to focus on a particularly weird subgenre.

Literature:
William Hope Hodgson has got a whole series of Sargasso Sea stories beyond his famous novel The Boats of the "Glen Carrig."  Here's "The Thing in the Weeds," "The Finding of The Graiken," and "From the Tideless Sea" online.
Kenneth Robeson. The Adventures of Doc Savage: The Sargasso Ogre.

Film:
The Lost Continent (1968).

TV:
Jonny Quest (1964), "The Mystery of the Lizard Men."

Roleplaying Game Stuff:
Dungeon #141, "The Sea Wyvern's Wake."
Islands of Terror (1992) for the Ravenloft campaign setting.

Dungeon of Solitude

I've suggested turning Krypton into a locale for a weird hexcrawl. In that vein, it seems only natural to utilize that little bit of Krypton on Earth, Superman's Fortress of Solitude as the site of a dungeon. It's a bit high tech, true, so it would work best in post-apocalyptic or science fantasy games. Here are the floor plans.

Overview.

Level 1 (note the "save or die" disintegration pit):

Level 2:

Level 3's exact floorplan is unrevealed. You'll have to work that one out yourself.

The image at the top of the post is a conceptualization of the Fortress from a later era, but it gives some nice imagery for various rooms or areas.

The Beggar City

art by SkavenZverov

Lardafa, the Shanty City, the Beggar City, lies in the bottomland swamp along the Yellow River in the Country of Yanth. Its sobriquets are mostly accurate. It's buildings, plank and rope thoroughfares, and pubic monuments, are almost are of ramshackle design and built with salvaged or scrounged materials. It's people beg as a vocation, supplemented with "coney-catching," meaning thievery or small confidence games. These activities they practice outside their city, up and down the River.

Lardafans ape the political bureaucracy of other towns and cities, but in truth, this is mainly for propriety's sake. Lardafans look to their families (loose gangs where blood kinship is not required) and informal alliances between them for order and the mediation of disagreements.

This has not always been the case. In the past, Hobo Kings (perhaps Shagrick I the greatest among them) have arisen and set their people on campaigns of mass panhandling and cadging on the roadways around the swamplands, and even on the River itself, causing a great deal of bother to travelers. Such kingships seldom last long, the Lardafans being a people adverse to authority.

Lardafans are masters finding items of value, sometimes very unusual ones in the backwaters of their swamplands. Their stories say that those waters were once a dumping groups for failed experiments by Mirabilis Lum and his associates, but no one knows for sure. It is not advisable to attempt to search the Lardafan's lands without their permission.

The other strange thing found in the swamps are the Heaps, large creatures the Lardafans view with a certain reverence. These beasts or fae-creatures resemble roughly man-shaped, shambling masses of vegetation and detritus. Many stories are told by the folk along the Yellow River about the Heaps: that they've saved lost children, left flowers for pretty maidens, but also that they've drowned hunters, and over-turned skiffs and consumed the occupants. Despite these tales, Lardafans do not hold them to be creatures of menace, if left alone--though they superstitiously view the appearance and activities of Heaps as prophetic. Usually only one is seen at a time and they are seldom heard to make any sound. Lardafans believe they sometimes gather perhaps as many as a half dozen and hold primitive conclaves where they're low howls travel throughout the bottomland.

The Strange Glamour of Virid

"Virid, the Western Country of Azurth, is the place where magic of the faerie is the strongest. There are a few mundane places there. Or perhaps it is truer to say the fantastic is the mundane in Virid. It's Queen Desira is called an Enchantress by those of other countries, either for her beauty, her sorcery, or perhaps both. Certainly, she has ensnared the hearts of her people, though they speak of her compassion and fairness, and the brave deeds she performed in her youth."

-  A History of the Land of Azurth

High Concept: A patchwork fantasyland ruled by a faerie-descended Enchantress, brave and beautiful, who with her companions sought adventure and love in her youth.
Conspectus: an inland sea of mists with a castle beneath its roiling color; creatures of myth and legend abound: mermaids, centaurs, unicorns; many of the rulers were once friends and companions on adventures--but also rivals for the affections of Queen Desira.
Media Inspirations: Wonder Woman comics in the Golden Age and her imitators; She-Ra: Princess of Power and her rival Golden Girl; the various incarnations of Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld, some magical girl anime and manga projected into the future when the magical girls are adults.

Strange Stars: Galactic Adventuring

While any sort of adventure can probably be run in any of the regions of Strange Stars (on sale now!), each one is particularly suited to certain types of adventures:

Outer Rim
Precis: A wildnerness with dangers lurking on often inhospitable worlds.
Good for: survivable stuff, encounters with monsters in desolate places.
Inspiration: Alien, Planet of Vampires, ST:TOS "Obsession" and "The Galileo Seven," The Gold Rush (1925), Flight of the Phoenix (1964, 2004).
Comments: Ksaa territory in the Outer Rim opens up additional possibilities. They make a good standin for the scheming Romulans or Farscape's Scarrans.

The Alliance
Precis: A civilized, polyethnic region with dangers on every border.
Good For: espionage, special ops missions, border patrol, law enforcement, crime & detective stories.
Inspiration: James Bond, the Dominic Flandry novels by Poul Anderson, Ocean's Eleven, E.W. Hornung's Raffles stories, the Trigger Argee stories of James M. Schmitz, the Luff Imbry stories of Matthew Hughes.

The Instrumentality
Precis: A theocratic, expansionistic empire to be fought against or served, surrounding smaller independent states.
Good For: freedom fighters or self-interested rogues fighting the system; space pirates or privateers operating out of an anarchic port, spy stories or law enforcement (pulpy or shades of gray)
Inspiration: Firefly, Howard Chaykin's Cody Starbuck, James Bond, Ice Station Zebra (1968), Tales of the Gold Monkey (1982), Zapata Westerns.

Coreward Reach
Precis: A "points of light" wilderness with hidden civilizations and ruins of the past.
Good For: Exploration; lost worlds; comedies of manners with quirky cultures.
Inspiration: Gulliver's Travels, Forbidden Planet, the Alastor Cluster and the "Planet of Adventure" series by Jack Vance, ST:TOS "Shore Leave" and "A Taste of Armageddon," among many others.
Comments: The incursion of the Locusts also gives room for military action and an impending danger to add a ticking clock to other sorts of adventures.

Zuran Expanse
Precis: A lawless frontier where different cultures meet and ancient secrets are buried.
Good For: rogues and crminals; pirates, civilization vs. savagery, artifact looting and tomb-raiding.
Inspiration: Tatooine in Star Wars, the Uncharted Territories in Farscape, particularly the episodes "The Flax," "Home on the Remains," and "Liars, Guns, and Money," A Fist Full of Dollars, Deadwood, Treasure of Sierra Madre (1948), King Solomon's Mines, The Professionals (1966).

The Floating World

In today's 5e Land of Azurth session, the PCs will likely venture into the ramshackle flotilla red-light district of Rivertown, known as "The Floating World." Without giving too much away, here's a few of the points they may crawl to:

Queen Azura: Probably the only true ship of the Floating World, it is a multiple level cabaret and the palace of the Floating World's mysterious queen, Calico Bonny. She seldoms gives audiences and most of her interactions with the outside world are mediated by a series of lissome, young representatives, all named "Fleur."

The Hazard: A open-decked flatboat (covered with tarps) that serves as a gambling den, offering mostly dice games and roulette. It's owner is a dwarf named Saltus Tapper, widely known as a cheat.

Rat's Alley: A ramshackle houseboat that serves as a dive bar, tucked close on the port side of the Queen Azura. It often goes unnoticed by visitors, which is probably to their benefit. It's proprietor and bartender is a large and misshapen man named Handsome Sclaug (treat as a half-ogre thief), who hides his face behind an ill-fitting, sack mask.

The Green Fairy: An absinthe den, appointed well enough that it's origins as three lashed together lifeboats topped with a wooden platform is hidden. The center-piece of its barroom is a large, gilded bird cage, wherein is kept an angry and abusive green fairy to whom the hollow-eyed and dissipated staff seem strangely deferential.

Bibliophilia: Often called "The Lamia's Library", this is a serpentine, enclosed structure of dark wood built across series of small watercraft, tightly linked. It is home to a lamia (a female vampire) and her book collection, which is said to contain every volume that exists, save one, and a number which do not exist. The trick of the library is finding a particular volume, as the lamia's shelving system is idiosyncratic in the way that only a mercurial, inhuman immortals could be. Then there is the usage fee. The Lamia long ago foreswore blood (too messy), but now subsists on the truest dreams and secret hopes of her patrons.

Hurly-Burly: An old hulk, half submerged in the river muck and only connected by one oft-flooded plank walkway to the rest of the Floating World. it serves as a prison of sorts, holding folk who transgress against Calico Bonny or the council of proprietors. it has been seldom used in recent years.

Baroque Space: The Inner Planets

This is a follow-up to this post.

The planets Mercury and Venus, being closer to the Sun where the Demiurge slumbers, move through aether closer in vibration to creation. The natives of these worlds, though they may appear human in form, are unaging and live in Edenic innocence, neither tainted by the sin of man's fall nor redeemed by the Savior's blood.

Mercury: The sun is too fierce upon this planet's surface, so that there is no vegetation, but the creative potency in the Sun's light inseminates the ground and generates myriad creatures, most of which soon die in the glare, but some crawl or hop or slither into shaded crater valleys where they may grow and reproduce.

The Emperor of Mercury, Helios XXIII, is one of the great rulers of the Cosmos and dwells in an opulent palace beneath a golden dome. At his ascension, as is the custom of the Mercurian monarchy, his human head was removed and replaced with a solar orb. His benevolent visage literally shines upon his subjects.

Courtiers must have servants apply light-repelling ointments, lest their pale skins be darkened by His Majesty’s effulgent glory.

Venus: Wet where Mercury is desert and as fecund as that other world is barren, Venus is covered by warm, shallow seas and dense, tropical forests. It's natives are women--or creatures in the semblance of women, They are seldom surpassed in all the Cosmos in beauty, if one can abide their inhumanly colorful skins and hair the texture of flower petals. They go almost entirely naked and chastity is not counted a virtue among them.

There is a  ruler on Venus, recognized by Earthly and Mercurian powers, called the Doge, who is always from another world. This title may be held by a man or woman, but in either case, the floral and lovely native Venerians are the Doge's solicitous wives or concubines. The Doge's identity is always hidden behind an ornate mask of that durable Venerian fungal matter that resembles teak. The ruler scarcely wears any more clothing than the Venerian women, except for the notable exception of an impressive phallocrypt, also decorated and enlaided with gold, for public ceremonies.

A Doge only rules for a Venerian day, as measured by the fixed stars, which is hundreds of Earth days. At the end of that time, the Doge is taken by the Venerians into the forest and is seen no more.