The City's Shadows Alphabet: U-Z

U is for Ugly

Stated simply: the streets of the shadows are not pretty. Whether it be the piles of refuse and waste that accumulate like rancid snowdrifts in the Alleyways, the stink of fish and rotting wood down at the Docks, or the oozing substances that sluice through grates down into the Sewers, examples of the ugliness of shadow life is not difficult to find.

This ugliness is not limited to the streets themselves. The residents of the shadows share a common lack of comeliness. Broken and bent noses adorn the faces of tavern brawlers, gap-toothed smiles grace the faces of merchants and Yokels alike, and even the painted trollops of the Brothels often conduct their business is dimly-lit rooms and mask their disfigurements with paint and with perfume. When beauty does appear in the slums of the city it is often short-lived, as in the radiant innocence of children who are soon to be brought low by their surroundings, or it masks dangers that prey upon the inhabitants, who use glamours and enchantments to lure their victims close enough to take sustenance from them amidst the shadows.

V is for Vendettas

While Quarrels are loud, explosive releases of anger and hatred, other quieter conflicts rage down in the shadows: Vendettas. These plots of revenge and the settling of accounts are conducted with blackened Knives and hidden conjurations rather than in the relatively broad daylight of the streets. Cloaked figures stalk their transgressors from the shadows, eager for revenge.

Vendettas are often times slower and more precise than their loud cousin. A slight that occurred months or even years ago, is harbored in the breast of the mistreated, where it is nurtured by a steady diet of hate. Outside observers never gain the smallest glimpse that this desire for settling the score exists within the heart of the slighted, who is all smiles and “My dear, old friend” to his enemy. That is until the time to strike and to gloat has arrived.

W is for the Watch

The tramp of their march and the sound of a whistle often heralds the arrival of the Watch down in the city’s stews – that is, if well-placed and paid observers don’t detect their approach first. When the Watch brings its hammer down on the narrow shadow streets, the residents here scatter like the vermin they share their hovels with. The dwellers of the shadows know that when the Watch comes marching, Judgment is seldom far behind.

The Watch is composed of just as broad of a spectrum as the streets it patrols. Green recruits, hardened veterans, corrupt schemers, and devout believers in the laws of the city all are found within the ranks of the Watch. The residents of the streets are quick to identify who’s who amongst the Watch and make adjustments their own actions accordingly. A hardened soldier who knows that life is seldom what the bards claim it to be is treated with a grudging respect, while a corrupt watchman is quickly paid off and kept close – but not too close – in case his avarice is needed for future endeavors.

X is for Xenophilia

The city is a cosmopolitan setting and its shadows are no less so. Down here, it is common to encounter men and even stranger creatures from distant lands that have chosen to make the city their home. While amongst the upper classes, such foreigners are often looked down upon (unless they have the wealth to buy their place in society), outsiders have an easier time gaining acceptance for poverty is a great equalizer.

In the world of the shadows, the foreign and the alien are often seen as exciting or romantic – a temporary diversion from the misery and desperation of life on the street. A dusky-skinned merchant with fez perched atop his head or an ivory pale elf with tresses of liquid silver provide a welcome relief from the dirt and rags so commonly found here. Such individuals often profit from their allure. That coin is two-sided, however, for when a scapegoat is needed it is often easiest to blame those who don’t quite fit in with the rest of the shadow’s inhabitants.

Y is for Yokels

Like some deep-sea fish what uses a glowing lure to draw its prey close enough to strike, the opulence and grandeur of the city leads a steady stream of the naïve into its maw. For many of these yokels, a trip to the big city may be a once-in-a-lifetime visit, as their experiences within the city walls often quickly strips them of their illusions about the wonderment of city life. Despite these sometimes fatal disappointments, there is no end to the supply of wide-eyed farm boys and maidens who enter through the gates.

Even professional adventurers, who may consider themselves worldly folk based on their sojourns underground, are commonly ensnared and taken advantage off once they step into the city’s shadows. The dangers here are better hidden and more insidious than even the fiercest ogre’s lair and an adventurer’s cocky nature make him a tempting target for more than a thousand schemes and cons. Goodly-hearted adventurers are more-vulnerable still to such risks and the city regularly proves to be the crucible that tempers or breaks those who adhere to the straight-and-narrow path.

Z is for Zoological Enclosures

Although the Watch and the Guilds do their level best to protect the livelihoods and possessions of the residents of the city, some prefer to ensure their wealth remains unmolested with guardians of the four-legged – in not more – variety. Behind the walls that protect the city’s Palaces, strange creatures prowl. Some of these animals are of mundane origin: packs of hungry wolf-hounds or sleek furred lions that pad the green verges of a villa’s grounds. Others are obscure or bizarre, and it would not be unheard of for house breakers to encounter manticores with clipped wings or gleaming-eyed gorgons defending their master’s property.

But not all zoological enclosures are private. On rare occasions such places are erected for the enjoyment of the common denizens of the city as well. Ranging from the benign zoological menageries sometimes found in city parks, to the violent bear pits and dog arenas of dingy, waterfront taverns, animals of large stature are not as uncommon as might be believed. Even some Cults husband and care for large and fierce animals within their sacred holdings, and more than one thief has returned from a heist with tales of titanic serpents and rodents of a most unusual size that protect certain dark sancta sanctorum beneath the shadowy streets of the city.

A-E F-J K-O P-T U-Z

The City's Shadows Alphabet: P-T

P is for Palaces

At the heart of the city, like a dragon atop his hoard, sits the palace. From the dingy stews of the city, the residents gaze upon its whitewashed walls and shining spires with mixed emotions. For many citizens of the shadows, the Palace represents all there is to hate about their lives; for it from within the walls of the palace that the edicts which seldom take into the account the wants and needs of the destitute are issued. For other residents, the palace represents the one big score that stands between them and a new life filled with riches away from the city’s shadows.

But not all palaces in the city are home to nobility. There are other palaces strewn about the city’s wards and quarters. Great gaming houses gleam with opulence; grand arenas break up the squalor of the streets with gleaming edifices depicting epic combat, and wealthy Brothels, plush with velvet and silk, await the appetites of those wealthy enough to call upon the talents of those within. Although the occupants of such lesser palaces lack the temporal power of nobility, the treasures that are cached within are no less impressive, nor less protected, than those of the city’s heart.

Q is for Quarrels

Both the action and the item are commonplace down on the city’s mean streets. In the cramped confines of apartment houses, the sounds of arguments echo down the filthy halls, outpaced only by the stink of cooking meals and the odor of human suffering. In marketplaces, taverns, Inns, and the Docks, quarrels between disagreeing parties quickly bypass words and progress to the unsheathing of Knives and the spilling of blood. Even the Guilds, with all their power and influence, are not above petty bickering between bodies, which can quickly escalate into all-out street battles that affect all who live down in the shadows.

And if the quarrel as a verb was not dangerous enough, the noun is doubly so. In the winding streets of the city, the weapon of choice for killing at a distance is the crossbow, which is found in use by the Watch and assassins alike. With the snap and twang of the string, a quarrel shoots through the night with deadly accuracy, snuffing out another life and ending another problem. Seedy tenements sport concealed loopholes that hide arbalesters in the pay of the guilds, who oversee and protect their employers’ activities. Down in the Sewers, hired killers prepare quarrels with lampblack to hide the steel’s gleam from the Watch and with venom to ensure the kill. It is only in half-jest that the quarrel is sometimes called the “bird of the city’s shadows.”

R is for Rooftops

No trip to the city would be complete without a frantic dash across madly-tilted rooftops accompanied by sling bullets and Quarrels whizzing past one’s head. Add to this scenario the desperate leaps needed to vault across the Alleyways that separate buildings and you have a classic city encounter. It’s this kind of Excitement that makes adventures in the city’s shadows unique.

The rooftops of the city’s shadows are both an extension of life on the streets below as well as a world unto themselves. Nestled amongst leaning chimneys and ramshackle pigeon coops, some desperate souls trade shelter from the elements for addition protection against the dangers of live on the streets. Up here, life is just a cheap but the air and view is slightly better. The rooftops are not only the demesne of Lower Class, however. Sorcerers conduct mystical experiments whose successes are aligned with the stars, assassins lie in wait with cocked crossbows in hand, and priests and oracles observe the sky for omens. The rooftops might be separate from the street below but they host a similar variety of inhabitants.

S is for Sewers

Dark, stinking, subterranean corridors are not limited to the dungeons from which the adventurers pry their riches. Beneath the streets of the city run miles of tunnels that can be just as dangerous as the fiercest dungeon. Although constructed to protect the city from disease and flooding, it doesn’t take long for the dwellers of the city’s shadows to put them to other uses.

Down here – should one be willing to venture into this foul world – Cults gather to conduct their obscure and obscene rituals, safe from nonbelievers. Behind hidden doorways and down secret passage ways, the Thieves Guild plots to liberate the wealth of those who have failed to pay the Guild its proper due. Monstrous creatures, both natural and those created, then abandoned, by insane wizards, prowl the sewers, occasionally venture into the upper air to snatch a tasty morsel from its bed. Amidst these assorted perils, rat-catchers and sewer men eke out a meager livelihood in their toils; often supplementing their wages by selling the secrets they discover in the course of their duties to curious ears above ground.

T is for Temples

Like their secular counterparts, the Palaces, temples are looked upon with a mixture of emotions. For many, the temples are places where a brief solace from the weariness of life in the shadows can be found: adherents of many faiths lose themselves in the rites and grandeur of religious expression. A whispered prayer or heartfelt offering raises hopes that the gods might have pity upon their sufferings and make tomorrow a better day.

In the eyes of the less devout though, the temples make a tempting target. In these bastions of sanctuary down in the shadows, treasure troves of varying quantity await those brazen enough to risk the displeasure of the greater powers of the multiverse. Jeweled ornaments, gilded religious tomes, and the ever-present offering box promise a much more concrete and dependable source of respite against the drudgeries of the slums, with often only a handful of corpulent priests and novices standing between those items and the hard men who covet them. Such temptation is difficult to resist…

A-E F-J K-O P-T U-Z

The City's Shadows Alphabet: K-O

K is for Knives

Although kingdoms are carved from the wilderness and settled with the help of the sword, once the walls of the city have been erected it becomes time for another weapon. The knife takes the place of the sword as the need for utility replaces that of brutality, with one being worn on the belts of tradesmen, fishermen, and farmers alike. But in the shadows, the knife is often put to more violent use.

Unlike the sword or axe, both of which attract attention, the knife can be concealed easily on the body. Stashed in boot-tops, at the nape of the neck, inside boot soles, concealed in belt buckles, or strapped to the forearm, the knife provides security without alerting your opponents to your advantage. Usable both in close quarters and thrown from a distance, it is no surprise that the knife is the most versatile and common weapon to be employed in the city’s shadows. Even the smallest blade, once coated with a liberal application of venom, becomes a lethal weapon in the hands of the smallest opponent. Adventurers used to the clash of long blades in the dungeon corridors are often surprised when the most benign looking resident of the city suddenly flashes steel in hand and plunges it into an unsuspecting back before slipping into an Alleyway, purloined purse in hand.

L is for the Lower Class

Although the city has its share of noblemen, wealthy merchants, and rich clergymen, such individuals are seldom encountered down in the shadows. Other then the occasional slumming nobleman’s son or a merchant lord of Guild business, the majority of the seedy side of town’s residents are members of the lower, if not lowest, class. Unwashed, illiterate, and often loutish, they eke out a meager existence half a step ahead of Death.

Due to modern assumptions about the lower class, most players might believe that this social niche is composed solely of the impoverished. This is not always the case. It is quite possible for members of the lower class to be cash rich while remaining status poor. In addition to the poor, the lower class consists of professional actors and performers, gladiators and pit fighters, tradesmen who practice professions deemed unclean by cultural or religious mores (tanners and butchers might fall into this category), apprentice and journeymen Guild members, prophets, sages, and grave diggers, as well as transient adventurers such as the party members themselves. It is not always money that separates the classes and even if a resident has enough money to buy his way into polite society, he may never escape the stigma of his profession.

M is for Money

Whether it takes the form of brass bits, copper benders, gold marks, gleaming gems, rare goods, or a less seemly form, money is the lifeblood of the city. Down in the shadows, money becomes even more talismanic than it is elsewhere, if solely for the reason that it is so rarely found here. Murders are committed over sums that nobles wouldn’t deem to bend down to retrieve. To display currency or wealth in a vulgar manner down here is to invite a swift and brutal death.

Adventurers visiting the big city with a plethora of coins may have become used to the fawning servitude that such wealth usually engenders in the villages, towns, and hamlets outside the city walls. They may even have this impression of the residents of the shadows at first. Time will quickly dispel any such notions when they discover that honor and loyalty is indeed for sale down here and the cost of such is very, very cheap. A silver guilder tossed to stable hand to ensure good treatment of a horse comes back to haunt them once the stable hand has sold this fact, along with a crude map of which room the adventurers are staying in, to the Thieves Guild for three silver coins.

N is for the Night Market

You can buy whatever your heart desires in the city, provided you have two things: the money and the knowledge of where to find a seller. For many adventurers, flush with coin pried from the dungeon depths, the first is not a problem. It is finding a seller that complicates matters, especially if their heart’s desire is something rare or illegal. By asking the right questions and parting with some of that coin, however, they can learn the location of the city’s night market.

Called by other names such as the “black market,” “the thieves’ market,” or in cases where magic is the prime commodity, “the witches’ market,” the night market can be either metaphorical or literal. In some cities, the night market earns its nomenclature due to the hidden locations and secretive measures practiced by its merchants. In yet other cities, the night market is a true nocturnal phenomenon. As night falls, stalls and vendors suddenly appear in formerly deserted plazas and squares, springing up like mushrooms after a rainstorm. Dim illumination provided by small oil lamps, jars of fireflies and glow worms, mystic incantations, or magical glow rods turn these plazas into deadly fairylands of commerce. In this gloom, illicit goods and services are hawked, money passes from deft hand to deft hand, and the entire market vanishes at dawn or at first sign of a Watch patrol. Although there are measures of caveat emptor in any business deal in the city, it is especially true when dealing with the night market.

O is for Obscurement

The underbelly of the city is not referred to as the city’s shadow world without reason. While the broad marketplaces and wide avenues of the city rarely lack illumination, even in the dead of night, the back streets and narrow Alleyways of the city are seldom so clearly visible. Leaning buildings throw shadowy gloom over narrow streets even at HighMarch and the thick grey fogs that flow off the Docks limit visibility to a mere hand span’s distance. Once the night has fallen, darkness fills the streets of the city’s under belly as many of the street lights and lanterns have been stolen or are arranged to go dark to abet some clandestine crime.

Visibility to the eye is not the only obscurement that takes place in the shadows though. This concealment also applies to the plans, plots, and the identities of its denizens. Anonymity is the key to both survival and success down on the mean streets. Every plot or Vendetta is obfuscated by double blinds, lies, and half-truths. Disguises are worn to conceal the identities of criminals or to throw the Watch off their trail. Even simple tavern tales have grown tall with the telling or have been made more elaborate with blatant lies to enhance the prestige of the teller. If these lies cause the deaths of those foolish enough to believe everything they hear, it’s of little consequence to the liar. He’ll always find another ear to tell his stories to in exchange for a purchased tankard of ale.

A-E F-J K-O P-T U-Z

The City's Shadows Alphabet: F-J

F is for Festivals

The streets of the city are crowded and vibrant on even the slowest of winter days, but when the seasons turn or the stars align in their proper places, the city erupts in cacophonous celebrations. Revelers, penitents, pilgrims, and merchants arrive to participate in the annual festivals that occur within the city walls. For the duration of these festivals, the city becomes unrecognizable from its day-to-day façade and even lifelong residents are reminded of the city’s many visages.

The nature of these festivals is as diverse as the city’s population. Some are somber events held in memoriam of ancient deaths or turbulent battles. Others are jovial bacchanalias where masked revelers take to the streets accompanied by food, drink, and laughter. Some festivals are stranger still and are held to appease odd gods or weird powers that require bizarre rites to incur their favors. Regardless of purpose, festivals are a time when even the most downtrodden residents of the city can forget their troubles in something larger than their daily lives and a time when the shadowy world of the city can grow fat off the riches, tithes, and tributes these occasions bring. Adventurers are bound to find Excitement during the festivals but not always to their benefit.

G is for the Guilds

While the Lord Mayor and his council may rule from the halls of power and hold dominance over the whole of the city, their edicts are often distant concerns for those in dwell in the shadows. Down here it is the various guilds that impact the daily lives of the Lower Class more than any well-dressed city official. It is far better to break the laws of the Lord than it is to run afoul of the guilds.

The guilds, both legal and otherwise, are the power blocs of the shadows. With numerous members banded together by Obscure rites and a shared common purpose, the guilds dictate policy between themselves and over the residents alike. Sadly for the common folk, these policies are usually in the best interests of the guilds, taking little account of the betterment of the people. The guilds guard their trades zealously and any new arrival or independent operator is bound to come into conflict with the guilds’ long established rules and regulations. The only options for these newcomers is to either join with the guilds, usually at great personal cost in both money and obligations, or to tread carefully in hopes of avoiding notice. Should such attempts fail, however, it won’t be long before the guilds come down on them like a smithy’s hammer. If the transgressor is lucky, they will only have to deal with their profession’s guild instead of the Assassin’s Brotherhood.

H is for Hedge Wizards

Magic, like any commodity, is controlled by the rich and the powerful. While noblemen might have access to the skills and talents of arch mages and high sorcerers, those who live amongst the city’s shadows have a much shallower pool from which to draw from. The practitioners of magic who live in the city’s underworld are no mighty wizards dwelling in high towers. Instead, they are men and women who possess the merest skill in the magical arts and reside in rundown shanties in the Alleyways of the city.

Such hedge wizards make their living by dispensing cantrips, ointments, and philters – all of varying potency and power. Often they make just enough from these services to keep them in enough wine or drugs to kill the despair they feel at the loss of their dreams of being shapers of worlds. Unforeseen events and poor decisions have stripped those dreams away from them, forcing them to eke out a meager existence down here in the shadows. Occasionally, one might discover a hedge wizard or witch who has chosen this life in order to hide their powers from those who seek their destruction but such individuals are rare. If discovered, it is only usually because they seek some service from transient adventurers who wouldn’t be missed if that service goes awry. Adventurers must weigh the benefits of such employment against the possible consequences of displeasing a powerful and secretive wizard.

I is for Inns

The adventurers’ home away from home or, for some, the only home they will ever know, inns become as familiar to those in the shadows as the Knives they carry. Like those selfsame knives, the inns in the city’s shadows are just as well worn. Down here, one does not find much in the way of amenities at the inn. A flea-ridden bed and coarse blanket in the common room, accompanied by the snores of drunks and the well-practiced false moans of prostitutes is the best most have to offer. If the adventurers are lucky, they might have enough coin to rent a private room for the night, meaning only that the entire party must squeeze a drafty, roach nest of a room instead of keeping careful watch on their belonging until dawn. Some inns offer what passes as an opulent chamber in the shadows for an evening’s repose. The price is steep but the lodger is guaranteed privacy – until the innkeeper slips into the room via a secret passage to slit his guest’s throat in the night and steal his possessions.

Despite the limited luxuries of the inns, they still remain common meeting places for itinerant adventurers and mercenaries. More than one fortune hunt has begun in the tap rooms and dining halls of inn with such names as “The Torch & the Rat,” “My Sin Inn,” “Rest N’ Pieces,” and “The Wayfarer’s Last Chance Inn.” Such quests are usually spawned by winning a map in a game of chance, the last utterances of a gut-stabbed brawler, or drunken boasts, however. Mysterious, cloak-clad, old men are usually blackjacked and rolled for their money pouches before they can saunter up to unemployed adventurers to send them on quests. Such is life in the city’s poorest inns.

J is for Judgment

Life in the shadows often requires the residents to bend, if not break, the laws of the realm if only just to survive another day. A stolen loaf of bread or the rolling of a nobleman’s drunken son is often all that stands between the Lower Classes and the Reaper. Although such actions are commonplace, this regularity does nothing to mitigate the consequences if one is caught in the act. For those unlucky souls, the hangmen and the axe both await with insatiable hunger.

Some high-minded or kindly-hearted souls speak of the merits of justice in ensuring a civilized city and protecting the lives and liberties of all its inhabitants. Those who live in the shadows mock such lofty ideals for they know nothing of justice - only judgment. Without the money or influence to buy "justice," they know that if they are ever apprehended by the Watch their fates are predetermined. After all, what’s the loss of another impoverished soul compared to the preferred ordered and carefree world of the wealthy? The desperate are not cowed into submission by the threat of death, for it shadows their daily lives at all times. It is better to risk the noose and feed a hungry belly than it is to adhere to empty ideals while starving to death. They know that one day the rich and powerful will face judgment at the hands of a higher power and then it will be their turn to scream when they learn there is no justice. That is if they don’t meet judgment at the hands of the mob once the citizens of the shadows have finally had enough and rise up against their oppressors. Certain secret bands work tirelessly to ensure that day comes sooner than later. When it does, the axe will swing often and the nooses shall be legion.

A-E F-J K-O P-T U-Z

The City’s Shadows Alphabet: A-E

Back in November of last year, I posted a little piece called the Dungeon Alphabet on this blog. I had originally written that piece for two reasons. One was to allow me to take a week off from regular posting and the second was that I was looking for a way to organize the classic dungeon themes and clichés for easy reference while I was working on my megadungeon. I was bewildered, albeit gratefully, when I started getting a lot of positive feedback on the piece. The Dungeon Alphabet was singlehandedly the piece that brought The Society of Torch, Pole and Rope out of obscurity and turned it into the somewhat bright light that it has become.

Despite the success of that piece, I’ve been hesitant to try and recapture the magic again by doing another alphabetical style series of postings. I’m equally aware that it might have been a fluke the first time around, as well as being wary of going back to the well yet again. As everyone knows, sequels tend to suck. But I found myself needing to do another alphabet to help me organize my thoughts on adventures outside of the dungeon. I waffled about posting it but finally decided to let the chips fall where they may. If I’m lucky, somebody will get some use out of it and that’ll be worth the risk.

Now that I’ve got the first three levels of my megadungeon all fleshed out and ready for its grand opening, the LBBs tell me it time to start looking at life outside the dungeon and to prep the sunlit lands for adventure. I’ve got a pretty good mental picture of the local settlement, just needing to scratch out a rough map and a few general notes to populate it. While I was thinking about life in the sticks, however, I started looking ahead at the nearby “big city.” While I’m not doing any work on that area yet, I figured it be a good idea to at least organize my thought for the day when I have to start thinking seriously about fantasy city life. And thus the City’s Shadows Alphabet was born.

Frequent readers of this blog might have gathered that, when it comes to my favorite flavor of fantasy role-playing, I’m deeply entrenched in the “Low Fantasy” camp. I’ve been in my fair share of “Rescue the Princess and Save the World” campaigns over the years and, while I had a great time playing them, the excitement for those style games has waned considerably. I credit the works of Fritz Leiber for establishing what I consider my default D&D type games: dirty and down-to-earth. Leiber remains the biggest influence on me when it comes to fantasy role-playing for many reasons but the grungy world of Lankhmar is the primary draw for me.

In my own mind, adventurers occupy the same societal niches as thieves, whores, actors, and madmen. By choosing to pursue a rather suspect career path, the professional adventurer is regulated to the shadowy lower class world when they venture into the big city. They might work themselves up the social ladder if given enough time and success, but they’d better get used to flea-ridden inns, watered down ale, and the constant threat of knives in the back until they prove their worth. Because of this assumption, I turned my attentions to writing an alphabetical list that organized the less seemly side of life in the big city. While the themes and clichés within are suitable for a “Thieves Campaign,” they were written with a broader picture in mind. This is the world of low level adventurers of all classes upon entering the city for the first time, even if they’re honest and law abiding (ah yeah, right…) at heart.

I’ll be posting the entire alphabet over the course of the week with a new post each weekday. While I can’t promise with complete certainty that this will be the last alphabet to ever appear here, I certainly have no intention of making it a regular feature. Hopefully you’ll find this sequel at least somewhat equal to its predecessor.

The City’s Shadows Alphabet

A is for Alleyways

Like the strands of a spider’s web, the alleyways of the city radiate out from the urban heart to ensnare the unwary. Stinking, trash-strewn, and labyrinthine, alleyways serve as the highways for the denizens of the city’s shadows and the homes for the truly downtrodden and lost. It is within these narrow channels that thieves, whores, madmen, and the wretched reside, far away from the opulent chambers and homes of the rich and powerful.

To step into the alleys is to leave the brightly lit world of the honest man behind, even if you can still glimpse those clean, bright streets at the alley’s filthy mouth. The world of the alleyways have rules of their own and those who do not take the effort to learn the rules of that world soon find themselves devoured by it. The alleys are gateways into places never seen by the honest and righteous, who shun such places with good reason. Adventurers, however, often must tread these paths as part of their sojourns into the city. The cramped shops and hovels off of the alleyways are the domiciles and places of business for Hedge Wizards, sages, the Thieves Guild, and other quasi-legal operations. Many alleyways contain the rusted, offal-choked grates that lead into the city’s Sewers, making them the only place to enter that subterranean world unobserved. The alleyways are also the last resort for desperate men when the Watch is hard upon their heels and they need a place to vanish from the law.

B is for Brothels

From dingy, dirty hovels to decadent pleasure Palaces, the brothels of the city are just as vital to its livelihood as the marketplace, the granaries, and the Docks. Within these houses of ill-repute, temporary bliss is sought to relieve the burdens of both power and poverty alike. With clienteles as varied as the neighborhoods of the city itself, the brothels provide entertainment no matter how bizarre one’s tastes may run, the contents of one’s purse being the only barrier standing in between.

In addition to the carnal pleasures the brothels provide, they serve other purposes as well. Literal hot beds of intrigue and spying, more than one powerful official has been brought to his knees because of the secrets he let spill is a post-coital haze. Adventurers gather to deplete their stores of gold and jewels won from the dungeon’s depths, finding it then necessary to recruit new members in the brothel’s common room to help replace those riches. The brothel is also, sadly, sometimes the last resort for young women and men whose dreams of city life have been crushed under the realities of urban existence. Many become lost souls within the flesh trade but some actually survive and thrive in that world, building powerbases that rival those of the most influential city officials.

C is for Cults

It is said that sometime even the gods themselves cannot see into the shadows of the city, resulting in a million pleas and prayers going unanswered in the dirty homes therein. In response to such unheard prayers, many are forced to turn to lesser known and darker powers for even the briefest respite from the horrors of daily life. The priests of these cults know this truth and often start their congregations in the abandoned warehouses, filthy Sewers, and other forgotten corners of the city.

The members of these cults, despite their shadowy places of worship, consist of a broad sample of the city’s citizens. A lovelorn seamstress, hands clenched in adoration and dreaming of a man she cannot have, kneels beside a powerful Guild leader who seeks the pleasures of avarice and to crush a hated business rival. The gods and powers invokes by these cults are equally as diverse. Some cults are little more than the scheme of the charismatic con man who seeks to line his pockets, while others worship a very real and very power patron whose existence might be better forgotten. Because the tenets of these cults are often dark and bloody, those who interact with the shadow world of the city must constantly be on watch. They can never know if the smiling barmaid who brings them their ale is secretly serving a malignant power who craves them as a sacrifice.

D is for the Docks

Trade is the lifeblood of any city, with goods arriving from across the nation or across the world to flow through the city’s markets. While many of these goods pass through the gates of the city, even more arrive at the weather beaten wharfs that line the waterfront. Unlike the goods that arrive under the careful scrutiny of the City Watch at the gate, however, the arrivals on the waterfront are often of a less seemly nature.

Whether the docks abut the deep blue ocean or a muddy, languid river, the wharfs are vibrant with activity of both legal and illegal business. Scar-faced smugglers haggle in waterfront bars, press gangs roam the docks looking to fill the quotas, dead bodies bob in the water amongst the flotsam and jetsam, and rats scurry amongst the crates of illicit goods piled high in ramshackle warehouses. These nightly dances are Obscured from the sight of honest folk by the thick fogs and dense mists that blow off the water. The smell of fish and exotic spices vie with the clang of ships’ bells and groans of pain to fill the evening air. Spend enough time in the city and sooner or later you’ll find you have business to attend to down at the docks. Keep your Knives and wits keen and you might just see the dawn rise…

E is for Excitement

The old adage is that “city never sleeps.” While attributed to modern urban centers, this adage is no less true when applied to pseudo-medieval cities as well. The first time visitor to the city, acclimated to the sleepy village where he’s led most of his days, is overwhelmed by the hustle-and-bustle that fill the city’s thoroughfares, marketplaces, and taprooms. Even the dark of night is not enough to quiet the city, with brawls spilling into the muddy streets, the temple bells chiming to mark the hours, and the laughter and screams of citizens sounding in the shadows.
The pace of live should never slow down for adventurers in the city. Festivals fill the streets with revelers and pilgrims alike, Quarrels streak through night as a thief leaps across the Rooftops, and pleasure and danger meet the adventurers head on in equal measures. While it is possible to find a quiet corner in which to escape the crowds, such places are few and far between and generally come at the cost of lost opportunities if taken solace in. Each visit to the big city may be the adventurer’s last; it is best if they didn’t waste the opportunity to seize the day (or night) and take full advantage of all the city has to offer.

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