It is said the sun learned to set as it bowed before the gilded glory of Ephes. Bright, sprawling, serene, the citadel stretches as a pristine pale collection of temples, political and gladiatorial stages — encircled by trade markets, private villas, and the riffraff of crammed plebeian districts. Magic and necromancy are permitted, but widely regarded as the uncouth work of the lower class. At all times, Ephes bustles: observe incoming merchants, artists and teachers. Exiting morals. Flocks of rising politicians, or once-upon favourites, dead at the gates. Priests and opiate sellers, calling their faithful. The ruthless marches of the ever-present, ever-growing city army of the Hand. And the growls of the arenas, thundering for blood.
In Ephes, only the main river waterway is pure. The people all come tarnished: publicly virtuous, but privately obscene and fiercely ambitious, the upper patrician echelons have never met one of their own they wouldn’t have for dinner. Debt and nightly revelry are paramount: only boors don’t have five creditors. Those born without means now have a rare ticket to attain them: talent and skill are currently in demand, as, under the prosperous rule of Senate leader Caius, Ephes sets sights on imperial expansion.
Notable locations:
■ The High Senate:Ephes’ expansive political arena and court of justice, closely guarded.
■ Temples of the Chained: now home to multiple religions, Ephes first honoured the world-making and eating god who was chained to avoid the end of humanity. The oldest and largest such temple, containing the citadel’s Beacon, is currently closed off to host the Senate leader during his meditation.
■ The Patrician district: no one wears wealth as well as Ephes, with its string of villas, pools and nearly nightly fetes. Hosts compete in providing the grandest and most exotic entertainments and keep their homes constantly open to the fellow 1%.
■ Numerous tea, wine, opiate and pleasure houses.
■ The Fishmongers’ Square: seat of day-to-day trade and stage of news shouters or orators looking to advertise the politics of their masters or inject their new ideas for public debate. Anyone can speak out their thoughts to rouse support — or incite rebellion. This is also where new bounty and assassination contracts are made or announced.
■ The Fields: widely attended gladiator arena that holds performances at least once a week and every day of festivity or triumph. Moderately-sized, with exorbitant fees.
■ Barracks of the Hand: located at the very outskirts, with numerous such settlements doubling as the defence walls of Ephes. Compact but impossibly clean and barring civilian access.
■ Creditor markets: where there is a will, gangs of highly questionable individuals find the coin to pave your way — for a price of gold or services repaid at the appropriate time.
Nominally, Ephes thrives under the democratic rule of 40 senators, each leading organised gangs within the citadel. The law openly favours the rich: bribes and nepotism are frequent, killings and sabotage abound. A man who has not had an assassination contract issued on his name is hardly worth his salt. Lawmakers, nobles, merchants and orators, only a handful of Senators have military experience, barring the leader Caius — leaving them intrigued by the conquest proposal of undead lady Mesallina. Senate gatherings take place each midday, to discuss anything from high politics to acceptable civilian robe dyes and the price of wheat.
THE ARENAS
Captives or willing professionals, the gladiators of Ephes are highly skilled martial showmen as much as warriors, who know to throw a fight with gusto as long as the public is entertained. Championed as gods in the marketplaces and invited for private performances at highbred homes, they hold considerable sway over the common man and the vote of the public opinion.
THE HAND
What intrigues of conquest the minds of the Senate sow, the military Hand of Ephes reaps. Highly regimented, efficient and ruthless, the Hand earned its name for the unusual discipline of the 50,000 soldiers it comprises. They act as one, each of its five contingents — or Fingers — united in perfect and unflinching synchrony. Members are conscripts, former slaves or career soldiers, who sleep in isolated barracks and camps, seldom engaging civilians. They are recognisable for their red capes and silver armors. Largely listless, they practise a cult of brutality, frequently consume stimulant opiates and communicate in code.
THE HIVES
Clusters of peaceful — manually, mechanically or magically attended — agricultural settlements bundled at the outskirts of Ephes and tasked with raising the citadel’s prized crops and animals. Agricultural goods are the foremost export assets of Ephes and diligently guarded by the Hand. Access is nearly impossible (?).
MESSALINA
Two months before the group’s arrival, undead mistress Messalina arrived with an opulent convoy to Ephes under a banner of peace. She speaks of a man Matthias who wakes, empowers and enslaves the undead — asking for the Hand of Ephes to join her forces in defeating him and his undead Brotherhood. In exchange, she promises the territories of the Brotherhood as provinces of Ephes. She keeps her forces of undead peacefully encamped outside the walls of Ephes, while the squabbling Senate judges her plea.
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ARC VII: EPHES
Image source.
It is said the sun learned to set as it bowed before the gilded glory of Ephes. Bright, sprawling, serene, the citadel stretches as a pristine pale collection of temples, political and gladiatorial stages — encircled by trade markets, private villas, and the riffraff of crammed plebeian districts. Magic and necromancy are permitted, but widely regarded as the uncouth work of the lower class. At all times, Ephes bustles: observe incoming merchants, artists and teachers. Exiting morals. Flocks of rising politicians, or once-upon favourites, dead at the gates. Priests and opiate sellers, calling their faithful. The ruthless marches of the ever-present, ever-growing city army of the Hand. And the growls of the arenas, thundering for blood.
In Ephes, only the main river waterway is pure. The people all come tarnished: publicly virtuous, but privately obscene and fiercely ambitious, the upper patrician echelons have never met one of their own they wouldn’t have for dinner. Debt and nightly revelry are paramount: only boors don’t have five creditors. Those born without means now have a rare ticket to attain them: talent and skill are currently in demand, as, under the prosperous rule of Senate leader Caius, Ephes sets sights on imperial expansion.
Notable locations:
■ Temples of the Chained: now home to multiple religions, Ephes first honoured the world-making and eating god who was chained to avoid the end of humanity. The oldest and largest such temple, containing the citadel’s Beacon, is currently closed off to host the Senate leader during his meditation.
■ The Patrician district: no one wears wealth as well as Ephes, with its string of villas, pools and nearly nightly fetes. Hosts compete in providing the grandest and most exotic entertainments and keep their homes constantly open to the fellow 1%.
■ Numerous tea, wine, opiate and pleasure houses.
■ The Fishmongers’ Square: seat of day-to-day trade and stage of news shouters or orators looking to advertise the politics of their masters or inject their new ideas for public debate. Anyone can speak out their thoughts to rouse support — or incite rebellion. This is also where new bounty and assassination contracts are made or announced.
■ The Fields: widely attended gladiator arena that holds performances at least once a week and every day of festivity or triumph. Moderately-sized, with exorbitant fees.
■ Barracks of the Hand: located at the very outskirts, with numerous such settlements doubling as the defence walls of Ephes. Compact but impossibly clean and barring civilian access.
■ Creditor markets: where there is a will, gangs of highly questionable individuals find the coin to pave your way — for a price of gold or services repaid at the appropriate time.
Image source.
THE SENATE
Nominally, Ephes thrives under the democratic rule of 40 senators, each leading organised gangs within the citadel. The law openly favours the rich: bribes and nepotism are frequent, killings and sabotage abound. A man who has not had an assassination contract issued on his name is hardly worth his salt. Lawmakers, nobles, merchants and orators, only a handful of Senators have military experience, barring the leader Caius — leaving them intrigued by the conquest proposal of undead lady Mesallina. Senate gatherings take place each midday, to discuss anything from high politics to acceptable civilian robe dyes and the price of wheat.
THE ARENAS
Captives or willing professionals, the gladiators of Ephes are highly skilled martial showmen as much as warriors, who know to throw a fight with gusto as long as the public is entertained. Championed as gods in the marketplaces and invited for private performances at highbred homes, they hold considerable sway over the common man and the vote of the public opinion.
THE HAND
What intrigues of conquest the minds of the Senate sow, the military Hand of Ephes reaps. Highly regimented, efficient and ruthless, the Hand earned its name for the unusual discipline of the 50,000 soldiers it comprises. They act as one, each of its five contingents — or Fingers — united in perfect and unflinching synchrony. Members are conscripts, former slaves or career soldiers, who sleep in isolated barracks and camps, seldom engaging civilians. They are recognisable for their red capes and silver armors. Largely listless, they practise a cult of brutality, frequently consume stimulant opiates and communicate in code.
THE HIVES
Clusters of peaceful — manually, mechanically or magically attended — agricultural settlements bundled at the outskirts of Ephes and tasked with raising the citadel’s prized crops and animals. Agricultural goods are the foremost export assets of Ephes and diligently guarded by the Hand. Access is nearly impossible (?).
MESSALINA
Two months before the group’s arrival, undead mistress Messalina arrived with an opulent convoy to Ephes under a banner of peace. She speaks of a man Matthias who wakes, empowers and enslaves the undead — asking for the Hand of Ephes to join her forces in defeating him and his undead Brotherhood. In exchange, she promises the territories of the Brotherhood as provinces of Ephes. She keeps her forces of undead peacefully encamped outside the walls of Ephes, while the squabbling Senate judges her plea.