Hark! A wild round-up appears. I usually find writing housekeeping posts super boring, but things have been quiet here and I wanted to post a little update on the irons I have in the fire. (This post wasn’t boring to write.)
Godsbarrow and the Gilded Lands book
I haven’t posted any new Godsbarrow material here in months, but not because I’ve lost interest in my setting — I’m still working on it every day!
I really want to put out a second book, so the new stuff I’ve been writing is all part of The Gilded Lands: Godsbarrow Guidebook 2, which will hopefully be out this year. (I published The Unlucky Isles: Godsbarrow Guidebook 1 [affiliate link], in November of last year.)
So far my experience with the first book is holding true: about 50% of The Gilded Lands is new material. Revisiting and expanding it is a hoot. The best days are the ones where I get a wild hair about something, write it, and it feels like I’m just describing something that already existed because it fits the setting so perfectly. (On the days I’m just not feeling it, my “safety valve” is doing the bare minimum: jotting down a name, tweaking a snippet of text, etc.)
All of my Godsbarrow energy is going into fleshing out the Gilded Lands.
My #dungeon23 project, the Black Furnace, is ticking along nicely. I write a room a day (which is the whole idea), and I’m currently about 75% done with level 2.
So far the pace is manageable, and the empty room safety valve is there for days when I need a break. Even if I don’t finish my megadungeon (not my plan, but you never know), I’ve already designed my largest-ever dungeon.
I’m still working on BattleMechs, just much more slowly than I was in January. This is the third of my “do it every day” long-term projects, and at any given time one of the three is just getting prodded along without any meaningful progress. Right now, that’s painting.
Once Lark and I play a game with all eight painted minis, I’ll be more motivated to finish the next four.
Out now: The Unlucky Isles
The Unlucky Isles [affiliate link], the first system-neutral guidebook for my Godsbarrow fantasy campaign setting, is now on DriveThruRPG.
I never get the roads, rivers, etc. on the “tile” boundaries quite right, but nonetheless I get a thrill out of seeing Godsbarrow start to come together as each region is added to the larger map.
Here’s a (clumsily) stitched-together map showing the first four regions: the Unlucky Isles (where I started, top center), the Gilded Lands (top right, my second region), Kurthunar (top left, third), and the Ice Courts (bottom, number four).
Despite all the details that would need to be tidied up as part of turning this into a finished map (mainly boundaries, but also finalizing scales and adjusting labels to suit the zoomed-out format), this map makes me happy. Godsbarrow feels like My Place in a way it wouldn’t without this map, and if you decide to play a game there I hope it will also feel like Your Place.
This is where I started, around March 2021 (in Worldographer):
I’ll go where my muse and mood take me, but the logical next stop after finishing my regional write-up for the Ice Courts would be to fill in the bottom leftmost map section. Six of my tiles, arranged thusly, is not coincidentally about the same shape as a map from the old Forgotten Realms boxed set.
I adore that set and to this day hold it up as one of, if not the, best examples of a published campaign setting designed for actual play (rather than GM wankery). Capturing some of the feel, the energy, the excitement I got (and still get) from opening that box, unfurling the maps, reading the marvelously concise and flavorful books, and playing in that version of the Realms is a core design goal for Godsbarrow.
After that, I’ve been thinking of another double-width map above the Isles and Gilded Lands, or maybe even a triple that also includes Kuruni.
Visually, that would center the Unlucky Isles as the heart of the developed portion of Godsbarrow (which, from a campaign setting creation standpoint, it is). With three tiles across the top and the ninth in the bottom left filled in, I’d also have mapped out all/most of the Arkestran Dominion, all of Kadavis, and all (probably?) of Ahlsheyan, and I’d have around a dozen countries developed at the regional level.
I like leaving unfinished nations on the map, places that need another tile to complete them. It helps the setting feel real and gives me an easy hook for future mapmaking and development.
Philosophical navel-gazing and hobby streaks
There are lots of things about worldbuilding that are philosophical in nature (like leaving countries half-unmapped). I’ve slowed way down on worldbuilding in the past few months, as I have with painting miniatures (though for somewhat different reasons), but I write at least a sentence, or make progress on a map, every day. And that snail’s pace is still producing more worldbuilding than I’ve done in decades, including much, much more cartography than I’ve ever done before.
I sum this approach up as “Something > nothing” or “Any progress beats no progress.” My interests and hobbies are like little fires, each in its own little hearth. Sometimes one fire is raging, and the others die down. In the past, I’ve let fires die out rather than banking them so that they stay alive; using hobby streaks as a motivational tool is as deliberate departure from that approach. I bank some of the fires, ensuring they don’t go out and that they’re on my radar (man am I mixing metaphors here), and let others go out entirely.
Right now I’m banking my worldbuilding fire, making a little forward progress every day, and tending to other fires that are burning hotter: watching more anime, reading more manga, and playing more Halo Infinite and Jedi: Fallen Order. And that’s okay! When those tail off, another interest or two will flare up.
This post wraps up my region-level development of the Gilded Lands.
Define the relationships between the groups.
This step in Worlds Without Number has two components: what each nation generally thinks about each other nation, and a specific thing they want from each of them. I keep them brief, and I always try to make the want an adventure/campaign hook.
Yrfeđe: A haunted place best avoided, a trading partner, and an obstacle to making Mormú a client state. Their smoked meats are especially prized in Kadavis.
Want: The Kadavan embassy in Ulfærn-Dennic is engaged in a long-term mission of bribery and skullduggery aimed at convincing the Grshniki that Yrfeđe is not as secure an ally as it seems, thereby bolstering the case for client statehood.
Lonþyr: A rival, and sometimes a trading partner. Lonþyr and Kadavis both mine the same portion of the Mormú-Hús Mountains, and Lonþyr controls the southern end of Many Sorrows Pass (as well as all of the coastal ports along a large section of the ocean south of Kadavis).
Want: Control of the south end of Many Sorrows Pass. Always trying to avoid open warfare, Kadavis has attempted this many times. The current plan is to find the most dangerous thing they can extract from Nus Palavar, sneak it into Castle Nefre, and let whatever foul curse inhabits the artifact pollute the castle and its environs. If this works, it will make the whole pass horribly dangerous . . . but hey, it might wipe out the Mor presence in the center of the pass, too.
Garshán: A close trading partner, and generally an ally. Kadavans love novelty and the opportunity to show off new things to their neighbors, and acquiring stuff from far-off lands is a big part of that — and something at which Garshán excels.
Want: Kadavan nobles have heard rumors from far-off lands that someone has killed a god and turned its corpse into a delectable candied treat — a truly one-of-a-kind culinary experience. They’re tripping over each other to acquire it, and most of the interested parties are paying huge bounties to Garsháni traders, calling in markers with those traders, or otherwise trying to coopt Garshán’s expertise to ensure that if this monstrosity is real it lands on their table.
Kostivolsk: A strange place that would be funny if it weren’t so sinister. Best kept at arm’s length.
Want: The Kosti abducted a Kadavan noble from a troublesome family. The government doesn’t actually want her back; the family does, and will go to extremes to make that happen.
Mormú: An inconvenience which keeps Kadavis from efficiently mining the Mormú-Hús Mountains. If the Grshniki would just accept the inevitable, they could become part of Kadavis.
Want: Annexing the Mormú-Hús Mountains — and all of Mormú in the process — would increase Kadavis’ wealth immeasurably, as well as its ability to ostentatiously display that wealth. Kadavis is mounting a major diplomatic effort to convince the Grshniki to become a client state, with a caravan of wine, delicacies, and trade goods to sweeten the deal. As a client state, Mormú would gain allies against their neighbors, most notably Lonþyr.
Kadavis: They don’t care about us, and we don’t care about them. A possible ally against Lonþyr, save that allying with Mormú precludes allying with Kadavis.
Want: To convince Kadavis to stop mining the Mormú-Hús Mountains. The Dýgan doesn’t care about Kadavis, but a third of the Dýfeón does. Their squabbles over the importance of this venture, and the means, have resulted in several parallel, non-overlapping efforts (hiring outsiders, spies, assassinations, magical skullduggery, etc.).
Lonþyr: A foe, but it’s complicated. Yrfeđe was originally part of Lonþyr, and families and bloodlines straddle the border. Reconciliation is viewed as impossible; enmity is driven by Lonþyr’s treatment of the Grshniki and by their apparent immunity to the predations of the đargnr.
Want: To find out how Lonþyr has avoided being overrun by the đargnr. The Yr don’t know about the actual reason (the artifact stolen from under the mountains), so they’ve spread spies throughout Lonþyr to gather information.
Garshán: A valuable trading partner. Yrfeđe exports timber, worked wood, fish, furs, and smoked meat. Apart from iron (which they get in partnership with the Grshniki), they import almost everything else — and much of it comes from Garshán.
Want: For Garshán to set up a permanent outpost of Sou gnomes on Lake Be-Hédan. The threat of the đargnr has thus far kept the gnomes from establishing a presence there.
Kostivolsk: Somehow, even darker and stranger than Yrfeđe itself. Resented because they can keep the đargnr at bay, but pitied because of how they must do it.
Want: Kosti scouts and raiders keep turning up deep inside Yr and Grshniki territory, appearing as if from nowhere — which means they’re coming up from tunnels under the mountains. The Yr want to find and seal those tunnels.
Mormú: A staunch ally. The two nations are longtime trading partners, and their peoples are intermingled. Among the nations of the Gilded Lands, only Mormú stands with Yrfeđe against the đargnr.
Want: To build a joint outpost with the Grshniki — a fortress carved into the face of a mountain, full of windows to keep it well-lit, that might serve as a bastion against the đargnr. And, if it works, it could become a template for moving more Yr into Mormú so that the two nations can more easily protect one another.
Kadavis: A rival too large to crush outright. With Kadavis controlling the north end of Many Sorrows Pass, and pressing Mormú from the north, it assists Lonþyr as a byproduct of sharing similar goals.
Want: To take the north end of Many Sorrows Pass from Kadavis. This would put Lonþyr in control of virtually all overland trade in the Gilded Lands, and give it a base from which to crush Mormú’s fortified presence in the center of the pass — an open war that could split Mormú in half and leave Lonþyr in full control of Many Sorrows Pass.
Yrfeđe: A rival, but it’s complicated. Absent the đargnr, Lonþyr would be trying to annex portions of Yrfeđe — but now they want Yrfeđe to be sealed in a bubble to keep the evil inside. Bloodlines cross the border, and family ties go back countless generations.
Want: To unlock the secrets of the Grshniki artifact that keeps the đargnr away from Lonþyr, find a way to extend that protection to Yrfeđe, and then use that knowledge as leverage to force Yrfeđe to become part of Lonþyr again.
Garshán: Weak, passive, and of little import. The Garsháni take nothing, therefore they are irrelevant.
Want: To pit Garshán against Kadavis, leaving more room for Lonþyr to muscle Kadavis out of Many Sorrows Pass and the mountains in general. Lonþyran spies plan to kidnap several Garsháni elders, spirit them into Kadavis, murder them, and stage the crime to look like the Kadavans were responsible.
Kostivolsk: A strange place, best avoided. The Kosti focus on submission in exchange for power is utterly baffling; Lonþyrans take what they want.
Want: Lonþyr has heard that the Kosti have ways into a layer of tunnels under the mountains which are less-trafficked, letting them scout and mount raids from relatively safe quarters. The Lonþyrans want access to those secret passages.
Mormú: A foe to be crushed. There’s no malice in it, the Grshniki are just in the way of Lonþyr taking what it wants: the mineral wealth of the Mormú-Hús Mountains, control of the middle of Many Sorrows Pass, and the cessation of constant guerilla attacks on their mines and forts.
Want: To plumb the depths of one of the Grshniki God-Tunnels and leave behind a god-killing artifact. The plan is to acquire a legendary cursed chalice from Nus Palavar, in Kadavis, and then steep it in the cursed waters of the Unlucky Isles. With the artifact twice-cursed, they get it as deep as they can and let go, hopefully crippling or killing Nújag-Húarn.
Kadavis: One of the largest markets in the world, a vast coffer of wealth just waiting to be transferred to Garshán one trade caravan at a time.
Want: One of the most unscrupulous trade guilds in Garshán, the Wayfolk guild called Uelkaecz Blue Coster (“WELL-kay-ish”), has a buyer for the personal ceremonial mask of the Oracle of Iskuldra, and they plan to steal it. This is possibly the most valuable, most heavily-guarded artifact in all of Kadavis…
Yrfeđe: A dangerous, depressing place that’s fine to visit, just don’t linger. But also a source of trade goods prized throughout the Gilded Lands and beyond.
Want: To learn the truth behind the rumor that Yrfeđe controls a secret tunnel leading under the mountains and emerging in Kostivolsk — which, if passage rights can be secured, could give Garsháni traders a way to avoid Many Sorrows Pass entirely.
Lonþyr: The bully of the Gilded Lands, without which trade would be more efficient and peace more commonplace.
Want: Coster of the Murghain (“muhr-GAYN”), one of the most-reviled trading companies in Garshán, wants to get Lonþyr hooked on an opium-like jelly from a far-off land. Their hope is that by spreading this jelly, called Kiir-nektaat (keer NECK-tot”) far and wide, they’ll make Lonþyr so docile that they become less of a threat to the rest of the Gilded Lands.
Kostivolsk: A strange place, in which it’s best to spend as little time as possible, but full of things people elsewhere want. Some traders have elevated efficiently trading within Kostivolsk to the status of an artform.
Want: A Landfolk guild, the Yastili (“yoss-TIH-lee”), has become possessive about overland trade routes through Kostivolsk. To improve their efficiency, they want Kostivolsk to grant them exclusive trading rights.
Mormú: An ally, though a complicated one. Garshán’s Sirali population gives this nation a unique insight into what it’s like to be beset on all sides by hostile powers — and, depending on one’s beliefs, abandoned by their god (as the Grshniki appear to have been). But aiding Mormú, at least openly, risks alienating every other power in the Gilded Lands save Yrfeđe — and all of them are more powerful than Garshán.
Want: To secretly aid the Grshniki in retaking the north and south ends of Many Sorrows Pass. Passing through three nations’ contested territory to trade with points south is inefficient and dangerous, and of the three powers Mormú is the most likely ally.
Kadavis: A decadent, wasteful nation full of indolent layabouts, undeserving of its riches. Too big to piss off, but relations are generally chilly.
Want: Jealous of the prized wines made in Vinu Kremru, just west of the Kadavan border, the town of Stymret — home of the famous Stymret Red, a vintage from the northern foothills of the Mormú-Hús Mountains — plans to hold a huge sacrificial ritual in order to magically wither all of Kremru’s vines, thus ensuring its own preeminence.
Yrfeđe: The source of all of Kostivolsk’s woes, home of the cursed đargnr, and — at least to those who question why the Kosti must live as they do — the reason why life is pain. If Kostivolsk could burn Yrfeđe to the ground and salt the earth, it would.
Want: To destroy Yrfeđe utterly. Not by force of arms, which Kostivolsk couldn’t do, but insidiously, from within. This effort is ongoing, and takes place on many fronts: poisonings, abductions, souring their alliance with the Grshniki, etc.
Lonþyr: It’s complicated. Lonþyr hates Yrfeđe, so they’re an ally in that regard. But Lonþyr has also figured out how to avoid the scourge of the đargnr without the extreme measures Kostivolsk must take, so they’re a source of frustration and a rival as well.
Want: To find out how Lonþyr avoids the đargnr. Kostivolsk began sending spies to Lonþyr some time ago, and now they’re everywhere. Active temple-based efforts at home send power to Kosti spies courtesy of Xlě̀-Ceth’s dark blessings, enabling them to hide, assassinate, and otherwise get up to no good with virtual impunity (albeit at great cost to those performing the rituals).
Garshán: Neutral. Kostivolsk doesn’t have time for Garshán, and Garshán isn’t an expansionist power, so they just coexist.
Want: A prophetic vision from Xlě̀-Ceth revealed that a powerful and sacred artifact, the Book of Yirg (“yeergh”), is hidden somewhere in Garshán. In order to find it, the Kosti have begun killing traders and using magic to impersonate them — and in the process, have assembled a surprisingly effective spy network in Garshán.
Mormú: An annoyance, but also a good source of sacrifices to Xlě̀-Ceth. The Kosti plunder the mountains for blood as well as minerals.
Want: Kostivolsk is secretly building a temple to Xlě̀-Ceth inside Mormú, deep underground. If completed and sanctified, it would make it much easier for them to abduct and sacrifice Grshniki…but it also might protect the surrounding area from the đargnr. For that latter reason, a hardline Grshniki faction is secretly aiding the Kosti in this effort.
Kadavis: A hostile invader that’s too large to fight off. Kadavis is less aggressive about incursions into Grshniki territory than Lonþyr, but it has stolen just as much land and wealth from the gnomes.
Want: Mormú wants to take back the north end of Many Sorrows Pass, currently under Kadavan control. It already controls the center, perhaps its greatest bargaining chip when it comes to staving off the other powers in the Gilded Lands. Control of the north end would enable it to lock Lonþyr almost entirely out of northern overland trade.
Yrfeđe: Mormú’s sole true ally in the Gilded Lands. Their bonds are many, including trade, intermingling of their peoples and settlements, and the common threat of the đargnr.
Want: The Yr are adept at making, using, and maintaining light sources (as one might expect), and the Grshniki want them to help find their absent/slumbering/dead god, Nújag-Húarn, who many believe is somewhere in the unexplored depths beneath the mountains. This would drain people and resources from Yrfeđe, in addition to being incredibly dangerous.
Lonþyr: A hated foe, with which they are at war. Of all the nations in the Gilded Lands, Lonþyr has taken — and continues to take — the most from the Grshniki.
Want: Hardline “we should fight everyone and take our territory back” Grshniki have learned that Lonþyr stole a mysterious artifact from Mor territory long ago, although they don’t yet know that Lonþyr is using it to keep the đargnr at bay. The artifact is sacred to the gnomes, as it appears — in frustratingly vague terms — in ancient legends about their god; they want it back, at any cost.
Garshán: A neutral trading partner. Garshán has considerable goodwill with the Grshniki simply because they’ve never stolen land or resources from Mormú, but they’re also far enough away that the two nations don’t have strong ties — and Mormú has a full plate just dealing with neighboring threats.
Want: The Grshniki have recently heard tales of a “god-finder” in some far-off land. Whether that’s a person, an artifact, or just a fairy tale, they want to Garsháni to acquire it — if it exists — and sell it to them.
Kostivolsk: An invader, only less hated than Lonþyr and Kadavis by dint of being too preoccupied with internal problems to be as large a threat to Mormú as the others.
Want: To find a way to unleash the đargnr on Kostivolsk, breaching whatever magical or god-given “barrier” currently keeps the shadows out. Let them suffer as we suffer.
And for now, that’s it for the Gilded Lands! I’m currently working on my third region, Kurthunar, and have plans for my fourth and fifth.
The next step in Worlds Without Number‘s region-creation process is…
Identify regionally-significant gods.
Kadavis — Iskuldra, the Golden Mask (“iss-KUHL-druh,” wealth, glory, recognition), principal deity in a pantheon that includes over 200 “small gods” (other aspects of prosperity, commerce, fashion, etc.) who are venerated in its many fiefdoms.
Yrfeđe — Cniht-Cild (“KUH-neet kild”), They Who Drive Out the Shadows, was a minor deity in Yrfeđe until the đargnr came. Now they are almost universally worshipped, with the rest of the pantheon relegated to minor roles. Given the nature of gods in Dormiir, however, the continued existence of the đargnr begs a question: Why does fervently worshipping a god of light not fix that problem? The answer is that Cniht-Cild is fickle, bored, and petty; they remember how little the Yr cared about them for centuries, and now they’re exacting their revenge.
As a result, Yr society is split between the ultra-devout (who think they’re just not praying hard enough) and the self-reliant, who look less to Cniht-Cild and more to their own torches, wits, and neighbors.
Lonþyr — Feórþa (“fey-OHR-fuh”), the Spiked Hammer, sits atop Lonþyr’s pantheon. Feórþa encapsulates three aspects of Lonþyran culture: the hammer represents building and strength; the spike, taking what you need by force; and the whole as a mining tool, the source of Lonþyr’s wealth. The Church of Feór is the state religion in all but name, and deeply woven into every aspect of Lonþyr.
Yrfeđe and Lonþyr worship the same gods, just in different ways and degrees. Cniht-Cild is a minor figure in Lonþyr; apart from miners, almost no one in Yrfeđe worships Feórþa.
Garshán — The Garsháni hold that efficiency — their culture’s defining trait, alongside trade — is not the result of any one thing, but rather of many small things in combination. (“The best horse won’t get you far if it’s hitched to the worst wagon” is a common Garsháni proverb.) Garshán also has a long, intertwined history with the Sou gnomes, who worship no gods. As a result, religion is not a major force in Garsháni society, although there is a pantheon of trade-related small gods, the Uhr Theg (“oor thegg”), who are politely and convivially appreciated by many Garsháni. Garshán has also absorbed the customs of the surrounding nations where it suits them, casually acknowledging small gods and spirits from Kadavis, Lonþyr and Yrfeđe, and other lands throughout Godsbarrow alongside the Uhr Theg. (Their dour neighbors to the south, in Kostivolsk, have a saying about Garshán: “They have many gods, but little reverence for any of them.“)
Kostivolsk — Xlě̀-Ceth (“SHLEH-keth”), who offers power and favors in exchange for personal sacrifice, is the sole deity of Kostivolsk and permits no others. The Cethinzalk Church (“KETH-inn-zalkh”) rules Kostivolsk, largely because it has proven so adept at managing — and weaponizing — what Xlě̀-Ceth can offer. Draining half of your own blood, or taking a vow of permanent silence, or repeating Xlě̀-Ceth’s name until you faint is all well and good — but true power comes from convincing thousands of others to do a little bit of that on your behalf.
Mormú — Long ago, Nújag-Húarn (“NOO-jagg hwarn”), often called the Half-Dead, grew the Grshniki gnomes from veins of precious metals and gems deep beneath the Mormú-Hús Mountains. Every gnome it grew diminished its power slightly, but the lightless vaults of Dormiir were lonely and it craved companionship — so it continued to grow gnome after gnome until the caverns were teeming with them. When surface-dwellers began tunnel under the mountains to steal their wealth and invade the Grshniki homeland, Nújag-Húarn was too weak to stop them. It retreated deeper into the earth, and has not been seen for centuries; the Grshniki know only that it is still alive, as they would have felt its death. Some seek it out, hoping to restore Mormú that way; others have abandoned Nújag-Húarn, just as it abandoned them; and most acknowledge their half-dead god as their near-mythical maker, long lost to them.
Make a sketch map of the region.
As with the Unlucky Isles, I started with a map. This time, though, I fleshed it out down to the town/road level of detail as I went, rolling with my ideas and mapping in more detail early on, zooming in and out and switching from writing to mapping freely along the way.
By the time I was working on historical events 2+, I had a finished draft map with 100% of the names in place.
Assign two important historical events to each group or nation.
Consequences + Internal War: Long ago, what is now Kadavis was claimed by dozens of different warlords, warpriests, and wealthy traders, each worshipping its own pantheon of gods, and all of them — people and gods — often fighting one another. Eventually, this boiled over into open warfare, and the Gilded Lands were consumed by it. The Oracle of Iskuldra, High Warpriest of the Golden Mask, emerged as the victor. The Oracle demonstrated the power of Iskuldra, and wielded that power to consolidate the disparate kingdoms into fiefdoms. She popularized the wearing of masks, both to venerate Iskuldra and to ensure that the first thing people from different fiefdoms saw was not the face of a former foe, but the mask of a shared faith. In time, the Oracle united all of these lands into the nation of Kadavis.
Magical Disaster: As soon as I’d created Nus Palavar, I knew I wanted a classic magical disaster to give Kadavis a proper sword-and-sorcery feel. So: Long ago, when the nation was young, Nus Palavar was where Kadavans buried their dead gods. Over time, the energy of those corpses — always unpredictable, often cursed, and made more so by proximity to other dead gods — accumulated, until eventually it boiled over. Waves of chaotic magic roiled Nus Palavar, spreading out across the neighboring region. In one village, every villager dropped dead; in a nearby town, the ground turned to liquid; dozens of miles away, animals were turned inside-out.
Now the Bloodspire, monument to the dead god Ykvida (“ikk-VEE-dah”), Sealer of Wounds, dominates the landscape of Nus Palavar, presiding over a haunted, fell place full of ruins, half-buried dead gods, magical monstrosities, and the ne’er-do-wells who seek out such places. For miles around it, Kadavis is empty — civilization having wisely abandoned, or simply never taken root, in this cursed place. Nus Palavar is practically right outside the gates of Kul Tyrar, the capital of Kadavis, and decadent Kadavans do their best to simply pretend it doesn’t exist.
Evil Wizard: One of the options for this one is “powerful magical entity,” so this event is the appearance of the đargnr. People had lived in Yrfeđe for generations before the đargnr first began emerging from the Wyrdanwod. Why did the đargnr come? Despite decades of exploration, research, magic, and divination, no one knows. Why can’t Cniht-Cild simply banish the đargnr? No one knows (although a large segment of the population believes it’s because they aren’t praying hard enough). Why can’t they be reasoned with? No one knows. Why are they always hungry? No one knows. The đargnr simply are, and they simply do what they do. That’s what makes them so terrifying. Their predations have completely transformed Yrfeđe and Yr society; they are why this is a haunted, desperate place.
Praetorian Coups: In the years after the đargnr first appeared, the Dýgan (“DYE-gann,” the First Axe and ruler of Yrfeđe, chosen by the Dýfeón, “DYE-fay-ohn,” the Many Axes; they’re the ruling council) fought hard against them — but also resisted the growing power of the nascent church of Cniht-Cild. By tradition, each of the Dýfeón sent 20 of their finest warriors to serve as the Dýgan’s retinue, the Fætan (“FEH-tahn,” the Sharp Blades), representing the collective loyalty of the council to their chosen leader. The Fætan saw the Dýgan leading their land to ruin and darkness (in their view), and rose up in a bloody single-night coup, slaying the Dýgan and any of the Dýfeón who stood against them. They then installed a new Dýgan from their own ranks.
Ever since the Night of the Sharp Blades, the Fætan have been an independent force, with no loyalty to specific Dýfeón or to the Dýgan; they are loyal to the land, and will give every drop of blood to the fight against the đargnr. The system whereby the Dýfeón choose the Dýgan remains, but it’s essentially theater: The Dýgan is chosen by the Fætan, and their choice is rubber-stamped by the Dýfeón in deference to tradition.
Freakish Magic: Just a year or two after the first appearance of the đargnr in Yrfeđe, miners in Lonþyr pulled something dark and strange from the deeps beneath the Mormú-Hús Mountains, and this artifact — the country’s most closely-guarded secret — has protected the country from the đargnr ever since. While it is rarely far from the capital and Lonþyr’s leader, a secretive group of assassins, sinister priests, and twisted wizards moves the artifact regularly to ensure that its location is difficult to pinpoint. It changes them, and over generations it has changed the ruling class in Lonþyr, as well. It warps them in body and spirit, often in unpredictable ways. Some have chafed under this strange yoke, but even they acknowledge that without this fell thing Lonþyr would likely suffer the same fate as its neighbor to the east.
Internal War: The two halves of Lonþyr — the east, which is now Yrfeđe, and the west — were always divided by cultural distinctions, but never especially sharply. Resources formed another division, with the west having more coastline (and therefore trade) and the east having more timber, wildlife, and other natural resources. But it was dealings with the Grshniki gnomes of the Mormú-Hús Mountains that broke Lonþyr in two — and the emergence of the đargnr that made reconciliation impossible.
The west took what it wanted from the mountains, mercilessly slaughtering gnomes as they pushed further into their territory. The east, after some uneasy skirmishes in the early days, made peace with the gnomes, trading with them and binding their two peoples together quite strongly. “Who started the civil war?” is an unwise question to ask in either nation (as is “Who ended it?”), but the end result is inarguable: Yrfeđe seceded, or was excised, and one country became two. During the aftermath, the đargnr came; generations of bad blood between the two countries have coalesced into a simmering feud that continues today.
Xenophilia: This second region features a lot more baked-in history up front, so this is another one I’ve already got more or less done before hitting this step. The Garsháni have been marrying Sou gnomes since the two cultures first encountered one another. Garshán is populated primarily by a mix of humans, half-gnomes, and (on the water, especially in the bays along the Lachyan Sea and on Lake Valkayan) by Sou gnomes. This is a two-way street, with the Sou picking up Garsháni cultural traits and practices — though not, for obvious reasons, religion — and carrying them around the world. There’s also a healthy blending of both cultures that exists throughout Garshán, such as great moots which take place here. Normally a Sou-only affair, moots in Garshán welcome Sou, Garsháni, and blended families.
Class Struggle: There has always been some contention in Garsháni society between traders who prefer to ply the seas and rivers, traders who prefer to travel on land, and traders who prefer to do both. These days, it’s mostly a light-hearted rivalry — a tradition, more than an actual division. But long ago, the Wavefolk claimed superiority over the Landfolk, and both groups thought they were better than the Wayfolk (those who favored neither mode of travel). Guilds grew up around these divisions, many of which persist today, and the drive for greater efficiency and higher profits festered, leading to a long period of cutthroat conflict, skirmishes, and bad blood between the factions.
Twist of Fate + Freakish Magic: Freakish Magic reads as good, so Twist of Fate says to make it bad instead. The Cethinzalk Church has always played a role in Kosti society, but the first priest to discover that many small sacrifices to Xlě̀-Ceth could be harnessed just as a single large sacrifice could, Àgnęte (“egg-NEW-teh”), set Kostivolsk on its path to becoming the brutal, oppressive theocracy it is today. Àgnęte, Warden of the Sacred Blood, strengthened the church, took over the government, and bled — literally and figuratively — the Kosti in service of his own twisted aims. Those aims became synonymous with the church itself, and in time the church became synonymous with Kostivolsk.
Noble Function: Kostivolsk’s nobility lost much of its power when the church took over. They retained some of it by ensuring that noble birth was viewed as the most important factor in producing the best Bloodfolk and Chanters, and that tradition continues today. Kostivolsk’s noble families intermarry, maintain lineages, and contribute their children to the holiest of causes: dying for Xlě̀-Ceth. These families are interconnected with the church hierarchy, some of which is also hereditary.
Urbanization: When Mormú’s neighbors began encroaching into its territory on all sides, the Grshniki were forced to retreat, then retreat again, consolidating more gnomes into fewer places. The capital city, Ilmú Feyn, became the default rallying point for displaced Grshniki. The tunnel network linking the city to various points throughout the mountains was expanded, and the capital itself grew in every direction: upward, by further hollowing out its home mountain; downward, by opening up shafts into caves below; and outward, sprawling into nearby caverns and sub-caverns. It is now one of the largest cities in the Gilded Lands — despite being all but invisible from the surface.
Great Builders: When the first Mor created by Nújag-Húarn began to build, they built ornate, jewel-encrusted stalagmites and stalactites to honor their maker — the God Spires. When Nújag-Húarn receded from the world — deeper underground, most Mor believed — they began to bore deep vertical shafts, the God Tunnels, in hopes of reaching Nújag-Húarn. Graven with runes, studded with gems, and built to be traversed with ropes, handholds, and climbing skills, many Mor go on pilgrimages down the God Tunnels. Not all of them come back.
I’m currently working on my third region of Godsbarrow, Kurthunar, so this post and those that follow are me catching up on moving my Gilded Lands material from my PC to Yore.
Name the region.
The Gilded Lands, so named because most of its nations are wealthy, and most of that wealth comes in the form of precious metals and gems extracted from the mountain range that sits in the middle of the region. Gilding also implies decadence, and in a sword and sorcery context maybe even rot and decay. The largest nation here, Kadavis, is both decadent and, in places, rotten; and most of its neighbors are rotten in their own ways.
Choose about six major geographical features.
Mormú-Hús Mountains (“MOHR-moo HOOSS”), rich in gems and precious metals, and the source of much of the wealth in this region (and its name)
Cæfester Woods (“KAI-fess-tur”), deep and teeming with wildlife
The Wyrdanwod (“WEER-dan-waud”), which surrounds Lake Be-Hédan, providing Yrfeđe with timber and fish; its eastern half is dark and full of terrors
Seat of Iskuldra, the sacred mountains where Kadavis’ primary deity, Iskuldra, rules her Court of Masks and oversees a squabbling pantheon of hundreds of small gods
Lake Valkayan (“VAHL-kye-ann”), so large it’s practically an inland sea, which links Kadavis, Garshán, and Kostivolsk
The Black Lakes, silty, mineral-rich lakes with geothermically heated warm water
Many Sorrows Pass, the only easy overland link between the northern and southern nations of the Gilded Lands
Nus Palavar, the haunted graveyard of Kadavis’ small gods
Create six nations or groups of importance.
Kadavis (“kuh-DAVV-iss”), the heart of the Gilded Lands. (A signifanct portion of Kadavis — notably, the island of Rasu Miar — extends west into the Unlucky Isles.) Kadavis is a prosperous, decadent kingdom composed of dozens of squabbling fiefdoms. Kadavan culture places great value on ostentatious displays of wealth and glory. Masks are a key part of Kadavan society, the fancier the better.
Yrfeđe (“EHR-feth”), in the southeast, is a superstitious land of dense forests, high winds, and harsh weather. Closely connected to Lonþyr by ancestry and culture, the two nations have been at odds for centuries. Yrfeđe is a rough-and-tumble place known for its timber, fish, and fortified towns, but infamous for the Wyrdanwod. The Wyrdanwod, particularly its eastern half, is home to the much-feared đargnr (“THAR-ghnir,” which means “sleeping shadows” in Emnian), who slumber inside ancient trees, or beneath the earth, and travel the Wraithsea at night to feed.
Their existence — and predations — have kept Yrfeđe from becoming as wealthy as the other nations of the Gilded Lands. Everyone in this bedeviled place carries a torch, candle, lantern, or other light source — as bright light is one of the few things that can harm a đargnr. Unlike the other countries in the Gilded Lands, Yrfeđe has a good relationship with the Grshniki gnomes of Mormú, trading timber, fish, and other goods for mining rights, gems, and precious metals — and working together to keep the đargnr at bay, as they also stalk the tunnels of eastern Mormú.
Lonþyr (“LONN-theer”), along the coast of the Greatwater Āŕ, is a small country rich in gold, silver, and gems — the mineral wealth of the Mormú-Hús Mountains, which Lonþyr has pillaged for centuries. Always seeking to encroach further into Mormú, Lonþyr is constantly fighting Grshniki guerrilas in the foothills — and struggling to retain its foothold on the southern end of Many Sorrows Pass, the only overland trade route connecting it to the northern Gilded Lands.
Lonþyr and Yrfeđe were once a single country; now, they’re feuding neighbors bound by bloodlines that span their shared border. The đargnr that plague Yrfeđe don’t trouble Lonþyr, which provokes much bitterness among the Yr. Long ago, Lonþyr pulled something dark and strange from the deeps beneath the Mormú-Hús Mountains, and this artifact — the country’s most closely-guarded secret — is what protects them from the đargnr.
Garshán (“GAHR-shahn”), in the northeast, is the only country in the Gilded Lands whose wealth does not come primarily from the Mormú-Hús Mountains; instead, it all comes from trade. Garshán is the “gateway to the east” for the Gilded Lands, bringing goods overland and across the Lachyan Sea. Garshán has excellent roads, and ships, and their traders are well-known throughout the Gilded Lands.
The Garsháni have been marrying Sou gnomes since the two cultures first encountered one another. Garshán is populated primarily by a mix of humans, half-gnomes, and (on the water, especially in the bays along the Lachyan Sea and on Lake Valkayan) by Sou gnomes. Garsháni society tends to be focused on efficiency, and the Garsháni believe that every journey which is both swift and smooth honors the Uhr Theg (“oor thegg”), the celestial family of trade-related small gods who make up their pantheon.
Kostivolsk (“KOSS-tih-vollsk”), is a sinister halfling theocracy that stands in stark contrast to its western neighbor, decadent Kadavis. Kosti culture was shaped by their strange, oppressive deity, Xlě̀-Ceth (“SHLEH-keth”), who offers power and favors in exchange for personal sacrifice. The bigger the sacrifice, the greater the reward. The Cethinzalk Church (“KETH-inn-zalkh”) rules Kostivolsk, largely because it has proven so adept at managing — and weaponizing — what Xlě̀-Ceth can offer. Draining half of your own blood, or taking a vow of permanent silence, or repeating Xlě̀-Ceth’s name until you faint is all well and good — but true power comes from convincing thousands of others to do a little bit of that on your behalf.
When the đargnr first emerged from the Wyrdanwod, just south of the border with Yrfeđe, the church began a ritual which has continued unbroken for centuries. Every major church started a chant to Xlě̀-Ceth, accompanied by ritual bloodletting and ceaseless dancing, which has never ceased. Some families are born to become Chanters, Deathdancers, or Bloodfolk, and will die in those roles; particularly devout worshippers will intone the Ceaseless Chant for days on end, stopping only when they drop dead (and someone else picks up the Chant). The ritual is still working to this day; the đargnr do not trouble Kostivolsk.
Mormú (“MOHR-moo”), a narrow strip of mountains smack in the middle of the Gilded Lands, is the home of the Grshniki (“gurr-SHNEE-kee”) gnomes, who originally claimed the entire Mormú-Hús mountain range as their homeland. Their deity grew them from veins of precious metals and gems deep in the earth, and Grshniki have a sheen to their skin, hair, and/or eyes, evocative of gemstones, veins of silver, crystalline mineral deposits, etc.
Mormú has been assailed from all sides for centuries, with Kadavis and Kostivolsk pushing into their territory from the north, and Lonþyr and Yrfeđe doing the same from the south. (The underground portion of Mormú is considerably larger than the territory on the surface.) Some Grshniki have cooperated with their neighbors — capitulated to their oppressors, other Grshniki would say — or even become citizens of those nations. Others have rebelled, waging a centuries-long guerilla campaign to to reclaim the whole mountain range. One thing almost all Mor agree on, however, is that they’re not giving up another inch of ground.
Linguistically, Kadavis, Garshán, and Kostivolsk are supposed to feel vaguely similar. My linguistic touchstone for Kostivolsk is Proto Slavic; I riff on that for the other two. Yrfeđe and Lonþyr share a common tongue, Emnian (“EMM-nee-unn”), for which the linguistic touchstone is Old English. Garsháni has evolved to incorporate Tamosi, and in its present state it’s a hybrid of the two languages; almost all Garsháni speak Tamosi, as well.
Today I wrapped up my second region of Godsbarrow, the fantasy campaign setting I started working on earlier this year: the Gilded Lands, situated just to the east of my first region, the Unlucky Isles.
The Gilded Lands are anchored by Kadavis, the largest and wealthiest of the six nations that comprise this region. With its obsession with ostentatious displays of wealth and status, the near-universal cultural practice of wearing elaborate masks, and the magic-rich blight of Nus Palavar, the haunted graveyard of Kadavis’ small gods, decadent Kadavis has a swords and sorcery vibe to it.
The other nations of the Gilded Lands are quite different. Garshán is a land of gnomish traders who prize efficiency in all things. Many Sou gnomes also make their home here (albeit temporarily). In the south, expansionist Lonþyr plunders the Mormú-Hús Mountains and fights with its neighbor, Yrfeđe — once part of the same country. Yrfeđe is a dark place with a bit of a Norse vibe, defined by the predations of the seemingly unstoppable đargnr — the “sleeping shadows,” who emerge from the woods at night to feast.
Kostivolsk, a sinister halfling theocracy, keeps the đargnr on the other side of the border by sacrificing their own people to their oppressive deity, Xlě̀-Ceth. Centuries ago, the church began a ritual that has continued, unbroken, to the present day: Kosti dance or chant without cessation, until they drop dead. That endless sacrifice pays their god to shield Kostivolsk from the đargnr.
And at the center of it all is Mormú, the greatly diminished homeland of the Grshniki gnomes, and the source of much of the region’s wealth — most of which has been plundered by its neighbors. A pale shadow of its former glory, Mormú is divided over whether to give up and be absorbed by another nation, or continue their ceaseless guerilla war against the larger powers that they’ve waged for centuries.
Mapping and developing the Gilded Lands
This time around, I played a little looser with the Worlds Without Number steps — and having already done a whole series of step-by-step blog posts about creating the Unlucky Isles, I didn’t repeat that part of the process.
For the Gilded Lands, I started with the map. At any given stage of the WWN development process, my map was typically a step or two ahead. This was a fun approach, and it felt more organic. Whenever I was in the mood to draw, I worked on the map; when I wanted to write, I wrote.
I still consider the Unlucky Isles to be the default starting location for a Godsbarrow campaign (if there were ever to be a Godsbarrow campaign!), so I won’t be zooming in to detail out a smaller section of the Gilded Lands map just now. (For the Isles, I zoomed in on Sanχu, a province in Brundir.)
Here are the Gilded Lands and the Unlucky Isles together on one map (sorry about the seam!).
I did my best to get my two maps to line up, but from Wonderdraft’s perspective I’m doing this all backwards; I should be creating a continent-level map and then using the software to zoom in on regions. But I prefer this approach, where I’m letting my ideas flow and not hemming anything in about what’s outside my immediate area of focus.
For example, wanting to know more about Kadavis — which is on the eastern edge of the Unlucky Isles map — is what prompted me to work on the Gilded Lands. Feeling like there should be a big east-west “spray” of mountains in the Gilded Lands, and just going for it, is what gave rise to my favorite nation in that region: Mormú, the besieged, greatly diminished, fractious kingdom of the Grshniki gnomes, beset on all sides by hostile powers.
I’ve got a full region worth of write-ups to proofread and turn into blog posts — and while I work on that, I also need to get rolling on a third region! As with the Isles, the Gilded Lands feature multiple countries that extend off the regional map. These serve as anchors for adjacent maps, like Kadavis did for this one, and “seed the ground” for future development.
I don’t know where I’m headed next. After writing about the Gilded Lands a little bit every day for the past 10 weeks or so, my instinct is to shift my focus elsewhere — maybe explore Ahlsheyan and points south, or go north and figure out what’s going on around (and on) the Lachyan Sea.