Shaft of heavens, burning bright. Gave us light amidst the night. Showed the means to reach our height. Passed to us Axtrami’s might.
The figures looked more or less human. And they were engaged in religion. You could tell by the knives (it’s not murder if you do it for a god).
—(Terry Pratchett, Small Gods)
Seen by some as warriors for the gods, and by others as mere mercenaries drapped in a priests robes.
Born of an age of superstition and ignorance, the Council brought order to life and death.
Deviating from the normal guilds of thieves, merchants and mages, herein are presented the more novel and influential guilds of Falhath.
Death is an art form. Where can a single act that is repeated by every single life at least once in their lifetime and have multiple emotions involved in each one. I relate this in a similar manner as a dramatic play. You look into the audience at the height of the emotional act and you see ranges of emotion from everyone. I experience this every time I watch the eyes of a guasto widen and become cold to look at. You should witness this yourself, to understand your own immortality and how to overcome it. Look into the mirror as your life trickles away and the truth will be revealed.
- Janus Sanguine High Priest of the Jongleurs Sanguine
How is it built? One brick at a time lad. One brick at a time.
Voz’s bones! It’s been a long time coming come in and welcome to Ozea me guest.
And now the day was here, and the people had gathered for the spectacle of my punishment for show throughout the arena the bodies of those about to perish had led off a procession of their own death. My master was sitting there piling up favor derived from our blood. Although no one could know my fortune, my family, my father, because I was separated from my homeland by the sea, among certain spectators nevertheless one thing made me pitiable, that I seem inadequately prepared; truly I was destined to be a certain victim of the arena, no one had caused less expense for the giver of the games than I. One thing they do not know, while I may be inadequate in preparation, the fear of a cornered man knows no bounds.
-Agustine, prisoner of war and Gladiator
The Knights serve a variety of roles within the land-locked Kingdom of Tresserhorn, few of them known.
“...And you, Human, must follow our words, lest we summon up every curse that lies buried beneath these sands and pour them upon you and your children, and their children, and in turn their children, for so many generations that your blood will surely never survive.”
This acting troupe travels across Calcobrina, delivering their own interpretation of popular plays, almost always to a standing room only crowd.
Also known as the Oathbreakers Legion, or the Forsaken, this company is often the last stop for criminals, vagabonds and vagrants before the headsman’s ax.
Not all vampires in the land of the dead are bloodthirsty killers that want to take over the world. Some are satisfied with immortality and want to spend an eternity without strife in seclusion away from contant war with the humans.
Many noble lords offend people of equal or greater rank as themselves. In the kingdom of Aoh Chiane, these offenses are dealt with in duels. But, of course, the nobility of Aoh Chiane do not fight their own fights…
The Premire Legal Office in the City, the 10 partners and horde of associates, form the most formitable legal operation in the city, if not the country. It is known for its ruthless prosecution and single minded hard hitting negociation. Their defense attornies are the bane of the local DA’s office.
These necromancers are maintanied by the warlord-king of Delegroth, in order to augment his armies and decimate his foes.
Operating out of Armudstadt, the notorious city of corruption and deceit and centre of the Kingdom of Dernwich, the Duchampe Society takes its name from its founding father, one Vergrin Duchampe, who lived around the 18th century. Duchampe, an Elvish merchantman - or rather, a leader and “godfather” of a great deal of lower Elvish merchantmen, was notorious for his skill at wagers.
In a land where dueling is common, the Azure Sword ply their trade. While dueling removes most of the need for assasination, there are still those who can not overcome their enemies by sword.
The Tattered are driven by hatred. All their lives they have done without, and given a chance to close in on those who ‘have’ they kill with disturbing intensity.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman