Hah, I'm guessing you took some inspiration from Kowloon Walled City then. Boy howdy.
yeaaa boiiiii
Oldtown district is kowloon x 1.75, so you get just a lil' bit more walled city for your buck. Though the money here isn't bucks, but sin. (Literally just paper money named after the first Emperor, Sin Farme, but it allows for lots of puns of children inheriting the sin of their forefathers, or the wages of sin).
My interest is very much piqued. How does life on the roofs/top of the buildings differ from the situation at the bottom of the stack?
People who live in the Worldheart City get to enjoy a city that was actually made with central planning in mind, as such it's very spacious per person, even for the menial servants. Lots of verticality, as the Worldheart City is actually a gargantuan Fortress that was converted to house the Middle Kingdom's subjects, way back when the outer walls didn't exist and the metropolitan area was still a series of villages.
Wall people live in the walls, towers and garrisons, and are almost entirely military families / descendants of military families. The walls are the most sparsely populated areas of the city. Each wall is semi-sentient and craves company; if the Wall Priests don't give the walls sufficient company, they occasionally forms comfortable rooms and passageways in the hopes of luring families into moving in. As such there are also many wall people who are not aware they are living in the wall until a patrol discovers them and orders the wall to patch up the breach, whilst there are wall people who live inside the walls dutifully worshiping the walls as benevolent protectors.
For the rest of the metropolitan area, life can be split between five zones
Roof People - surface dwellers who live on the top layer of the cityscape. The people grow flowers to attract colourful insects and fairies, grow fruit trees and fields of other luxurious foods. The housetops are linked by makeshift rope bridges, wooden planks and pulleys for transporting people and cargo. Roof runners are frequently seen, some jumping from house to house, others riding on exotic mounts like giant spiders or geckos, urgently carrying messages or food deliveries. Roof people are the primary cause of vertical sprawl; as they've grown accustomed to the surface world, any time their neighbours build up, they too build up. Thus the roof people are in a perpetual arms race to stay roof people. In order to keep the arms race slow, Roof people associations try to broker truces and armistices between neighbourhoods.
The Twilight People - people who are not close enough to the surface to feel the kiss of a cool breeze, but still close enough to the surface to see sunlight shining on through. The twilight zone forms the most productive and populated zone of the cityscape, where the overwhelming majority of all industry and living takes place. Here the school children climb through windows to reach their schools, here vines of melons, hops, tomatoes, berries of all kinds and grapes can be found overtaking railings and walls - with the occasional druid's operation growing a little out of hand until local street urchins find some way to hawk it off piece by piece. This place always carries the delicious smell of cooking in the morning, evening and afternoon, with the waft of wondrous broths and hot drinks carrying far and wide down the valleys of houses in all neighbourhoods rich and poor. When sun falls and moon rises, the Twilight Zone lights up with billions of illusionary lights, casting gentle glows in many shades throughout the many restaurants (delicious), threatre houses (dens of villainy and prostitution) and pubs (decidedly variable environments). The Twilight Zone is large enough that it appears to have its own internal weather system; for legal reasons lawyers of the Middle Kingdom argue that the Twilight Zone simply displays trickle down weather, and does not in fact constitute unregulated weather.
The Street Level - the markets, the pell-mell uproar of madness, the millions of multitudes from all walks of life trying to find their way through the streets large and small. Soothsayers publish almanacs dictating predicted rush hours and ebb hours, landmarks and street updates, the only hope for foreigners to navigate the city in good speed. On the streets anything may be found. Anything may be lost. The street level is not a place where many people live; street level living space is at an incredibly high premium, and the streets themselves are prime stampede ground. As such there are very few genuine "street people." Nets and gratings above protect pedestrians from falling objects above, but also remove much of what little natural light could filter down. Instead all light comes from advertising illusions, or whatever light people bring with them.
Drying laundry drips onto a frying oil pan, leaving a sizzle as a man stirs his legendary spicy ocean noodles. An incredibly burly bald Dwarf with a big bushy beard is wondering if you'll be stupid enough to make eye contact with him. An incredibly beautiful human is asking if you want to have a good time; you wonder if that's a poisoned dagger in their pants of if they're happy to see you. Judging from how quickly they run away, it was a poison dagger. Guard patrols walk by in formation, their Serjeant shouting for the crowds to make way for the King's Castle Guard. There is not enough room for people to make way, so they pile upon one another, desperate to get away from the guards with their sharp pikes and nail-capped boots. A few street people become adept at navigating the streets; these street rangers often end up employed by firefighters, detectives or clerics to help them hastily respond to emergencies.
The Abyss People are those who live below the street level. Those who live in the abyss have learned to live without light, or else already have darkvision or blindsense. The Office of Imperial Statistics is too scared to venture into the Abyss to conduct regular censuses here, nevertheless from observation at street level, it is clear the Abyss remains an important source of manufactured goods and alcohol. Critics blame this upon the habit of the powerful Dwarven criminal syndicate "the Plows of Victory", which has been known to form Fortresses within the Abyss zone. The Dwarves are not the only inhabitants; Trinity Elf Mafia engage in black market trade of organs, spell components and slaves. The Wayward Cloud bards are still at large, holding massive illegal concerts that echo throughout the city. The Second Circle Goblins wage war with the Plows of Victory for influence, whilst the Kobold gang Ifreetis periodically raids the markets of the street for loot. Here too are found the hidden entrances to the three main martial art schools of the Middle Kingdom. The House of Flying Daggers, who specialise in throwing daggers, and believe in fighting powerful oppressors and protecting the powerless. The House of Running Scissors, who specialise in reckless, fast strikes with dual-wielded weapons, and believe in freedom at all costs. Lastly, the House of Just Lifting, who specialise in physical training to achieve peak physical performance, in order to bring justice throughout the city.
Below even the Abyss people, are the sewers. The sewers do not have many permanent humanoid populations; most of the sewer populations are nomadic, moving between the sewers to reach different layers of the abyss or street. The sewers are an inherently hazardous place - there's lots of running water, potentially dangerous damp air, disease and blockages can cause tunnels to fill completely with sewage, flooding any homes built in the deep dark. The primary reason few dare to make a permanent home of the sewer however, is that there is a significant ooze population roaming throughout the sewers. The oozes greatly aid in the clearing of waste and blockages, purifying a lot of the water before it makes its way into the Pylo river. The oozes nevertheless pose a significant mortal risk to anyone walking through the sewers alone. Even the elite Sewer Commandos, sent in to clear exceptionally large blockages, will refuse to go into the sewers in groups smaller than 8. Whilst oozes will naturally clear blockages in the sewers, the Sewer Commandos prefer to destroy blockages manually, as blockages can artificially inflate the population of sewer oozes. This is trauma-based obligation as in the year 2463, one historic ooze known as "The Fatberg" grew so large feeding on a blockage, it began to spill forth into the Abyss, claiming many lives before being driven back underground. The Fatberg hasn't been seen since, but everyone still fears.
The Census Office of this city surely began fielding its own armies thousands of years ago, but this place is surely for the Census Black Ops or the elderly Census-Archmages suiting up for One Last Ride.
Please report to the Not Secret Police Tourism Office for your tourism brochure. You appear to be very well-informed of state secrets, and the state would like to reward you with a holiday package at the Black Lotus Inn
You might find this OSR supplement interesting and relevant, it details magical innovations causing the end of the world, one of which is this kind of space expansion scenario. At the highest stages, what was formerly a city becomes an impossible labyrinth of hallways, warehouses, and backrooms magically expanded beyond any reason or control which soon enough draws in the entire population.
That's pretty good, I love the bits about encouraging a slower pace and non-combat spell interactions. In my campaign I made it so there are lots of state holidays, weekends off, long rests are a week and short rests are 8 hours - so combat is few and far between, interactions are far more common, and when fights do happen they are very spicy.
I'm also tempted to recycle the Black Lotus Inn as its own setting. A hotel that detached from its own Universe to become a new Universe. Their idea of a pre-apocalyptic society is so up my alley you can find it in the city
One is considering making an anarchist druid who resents central control of nature.
I Can't Believe It's Not Posadism
If he makes his character a druid called Malthus and breaks the weather control system I am giving him a free feat
*EDIT
Currently one of my players is undecided. One is considering making an anarchist druid who resents central control of nature.
It's hard when all you want is to be a lonely hermit in your meagre hovel in own little isolated corner of the world when population density is such that everywhere you go the every single isolated corner has to house at least a hundred people
There's a heartbreaking moment in Bilennium where a dude discovers a whole, unused room. One where he can stretch his arms out and not touch a single wall. He invites one of his friends to share the room, then their friend brings a friend, then they bring their old parents, and they start setting up privacy walls...
What is the ‘Acident’?
A long time ago there was a potion seller, who made potions. His potions were too strong for anyone to drink, his potions would kill a dragon let alone a man. In fact, his potions were so strong, people wondered who he made his potions for, or if indeed he ever sold any potions. The potion seller never stopped creating stronger and stronger potions, until one day his workshop and everything around it for miles around disappeared, leaving behind only a gargantuan potion spill. All of the scholar-spellcasters and alchemists of the Kingdom have been stumped trying to remove the potion spill, but so far have only succeed in containing it. As the potion spill is only harmful if someone comes into contact with the potion spill, the bureaucrats decided to just build a wall around the accident until a permanent solution was discovered
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Topic: Re: Dungeons & Dragons / PNP games thread: COBRA!!! (Read 848755 times)