La necesidad y normativa de agregar palabras

According to Hala’s holy text, Tales of the Ages, nine gods created the world from the roiling mists of Chaos. The gods then withdrew, intending to allow mortals to fill their world with acts of both good and evil.

However, the mortals lacked wisdom, and

the world was soon filled with pain and anguish. Just one of the Nine Gods, the goddess Hala, returned to the world to ease its suffering. She gathered together thirteen men and thirteen women and taught them the secrets of magic. Those that practice the mystical and religious rites of Hala are sometimes called witches.

The Cult of Hala is a mysterious and highly secretive faith. Her witches operate a number of hospices scattered throughout the world, where they offer rest and healing to anyone who comes to their door. The church does not actively seek new followers, however, and nowhere is the Church of Hala the dominant religion. Witches of Hala are very common in the Civilized Crescent, where they suffer few of the persecutions and prejudices that they face in other lands. Commoners often curse the “sly witches” with one breath even as they ask for their help with the next; Hala’s faithful are used to this kind of treatment and often struggle to reconcile their faith with their anger.

While Hala’s chosen call themselves

“witches,” there are other, darker magic-users who also fall under this sobriquet. Hala’s priests call such evil casters “warlocks” (or oath-breakers) and hold that magic in its purest form is a divine gift for all people, one that is perverted and corrupted in the same way that many divine gifts are. Warlocks are among the most common enemies of the faith, and few things will rouse a peaceful witch to sudden wrath more quickly than news of a warlock’s appearance.

Halans often work serpent motifs into their clothing or jewelry to recognize one another, and they have an entire system of secret hand-signs and code phrases to help with identification. When they can wear it openly, the symbol of their goddess is a ring of thirteen serpents, each devouring the tail of the one before it. They call this sign

“ouroboros,” symbolizing the eternal cycle of nature.

Borca is a beauteous domain scarred by betrayal and ruthlessness. The domain lies along the northwestern edge of low

mountains, in the rolling dales that stretch out beyond the icy crags of Mount Gries.

Borca is a green, fertile land blanketed with wildflowers throughout the spring and summer. Ancient, verdant forests cover much of the domain, overgrown with tangled brambles and twining ivy. Borca has a temperate climate, leaning toward severe winters and cool, pleasant summers.

The trees and shrubs are heavy with nuts and fruits, and the ground is blanketed by spongy little toadstools. Most of these morsels, however, ooze with sweet-smelling toxins, a notorious feature or Borcan foodstuffs usually betrayed by a telltale purplish tinge. The domain is also known for its geothermal activity; hot springs (called Hellspouts) bubble up from the ground in many areas, spewing steam and sulfurous fumes into the air.

Homes and shops in Borca are broad, massive buildings of plastered and

whitewashed brick. The gabled rooftops are shingled in thin, charcoal-grey wood and topped with slim, knobby spires. Wooden trim of dark green or blue, carved with stylized vines and mushrooms, graces the doors and windows. Small, white marble statues of the goddess Ezra stand serenely at the entrances of many homes. The smooth stone streets are narrow, shaded by the overhanging upper floors of buildings.

Borcans have average, athletic statures.

Borcans seem to age quickly, and have skin tones ranging from fair to creamy tan. Hair and eye colors range wildly, but dark brown is common for both. Men of all classes keep their hair at a medium length, allowing it to grow wild and roguish. Women grow their hair quite long, adorning it with thin ribbons and wooden or tortoiseshell combs. Clothing is utilitarian among commoners, with men dressing in loose shirts and trousers and women in blouses and medium-length skirts.

Dull earth tones are the norm in such humble garb. Nobles, on the other hand, dress in baroque Dementlieuese fashions, though they shy from bright colors, preferring a black and white scheme accentuated with silver jewelry. Commoners and nobles alike don more colorful clothing exclusively for festivals.

As a people, Borcans have a sullen air about them, an attitude that has permeated all aspects of daily life. This is largely due to the crushing taxation most people endure, combined with the cruel, arbitrary rule of Borca’s ruler, Ivana Boritsi, the so-called Black Widow. This oppression has worn down what was once a lusty, life-loving attitude among Borcans, leaving a defeated people who go about their business with a resigned fatalism. A weary, pained look clings to their feature; they shuffle through their tasks as if afflicted with a numbing poison.

Their only respite is the grace of the goddess Ezra, whose largest and most influential sect of priests goes forth from the Great

Cathedral of Levkarest.

Although the realm is ostensibly governed under a feudal system, Ivana Boritsi is the only true landowner, with all citizens in direct vassalage to her. Borca’s prominent

aristocracy is a mere plaything for Ivana;

nobles enjoy their status only as long as it pleases the Black Widow. Ivana grants and revokes noble titles erratically, creating a perpetual flux in the makeup of the Borcan nobility. All matters of Borcan law are contracts between individuals, and the basic unit of governance is contract law. These laws are enforced by tax assessors—little more than Ivana’s personal thugs—and landlords, who are responsible for both collecting taxes and arbitrating disagreements. Needless to say, corruption isn’t just rampant but is actually expected; there is no law in Borca save that which can be bought with coin.

Tropes

Borca is very much intended to remind players of Italy during the Renaissance, albeit with a slightly more advanced level of

technology. Rich patrons hire artists and philosophers while playing ruthless games of politics that often end in death. The common folk struggle under a burden of taxation that is both random and crushing, and justice can only be had through vigilantism.

The Boritsi family is supposed to be reminiscent of the Borgias, including their connections to the church, their patronage of the arts, and their thorough corruption and venality.

Themes

 Governmental Corruption: Borca is a land where the law is almost openly for sale. Different tax assessors offer competing rates for ships coming in to harbor, landlords can charge whatever they want as long as they keep their taxes flowing in, and common folk have almost no voice in their own governance. Almost anyone can be bribed, but few people are willing to say so in such crude language.

“Convenience fees,” “local taxes,” and

“overhead costs” are common code phrases when asking for bribes.

 Beauty Without, Decay Within: The people of the upper classes are predominantly good-looking—and

predominantly morally bankrupt. No one cares how many commoners die in sweatshops as long as trade continues.

Their tasteful clothes, fine jewelry, and erudite manners conceal all manner of depravity and decadence. In a more literal sense, most monsters in Borca look just like people—until the time comes to feed.

 Church and State: Despite the corruption at all levels of government and the

decadence common to the nobility, the Church of Ezra is popular among both aristocrats and commoners. Nobles give huge sums to the building of churches and the creation of religious art, while commoners hope for justice in the next world that they cannot receive in this one.

People tend to hold to religious beliefs

even when their actions would indicate godlessness.

The Darklord

Ivana Boritsi is a dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty who seems to be no more than eighteen, despite verifiably being more than sixty years old. Alchemy (and, some whisper, dark magic) have kept her young and

beautiful through the decades even as she has grown crueler and more ruthless. She is the sole true landowner in Borca, and all members of the aristocracy hold their positions at her sufferance.

Ivana’s mother Camille was the former ruler of Borca, as well as its former darklord.

Camille was a bitter, jealous woman who poisoned many of her own relatives and all of her husbands. When Ivana was a teenager, she fell in love with a poet named Pieter;

Camille was furious that her daughter had found true love when it had eluded her for so long. She seduced Pieter while disguised as Ivana, then revealed the poet’s “betrayal,”

and convinced Ivana to murder the boy for his indiscretions. A year later, Ivana

murdered Camille and took her place as ruler and darklord.

Known as the “Black Widow” for her habit of seducing men, bedding them, then killing them, the truth is that Ivana’s very touch is poison. The alchemical process she used to manufacture the poison with which she killed her mother also made her forever young and turned all of her bodily fluids—blood, sweat, and tears alike—into horrific venom. Ivana sometimes makes connections with

handsome young men or women and beds them in the hope that they will prove immune to her curse; so far, none have. In her worst moods, Ivana delights in destroying the relationships of others and humors those that court her just for the chance to poison them later.

Ivana was childhood friends with Ivan Dilisnya, the ruler of Dorvinia and her cousin. As the two have aged, Ivan has

become jealous of Ivana’s eternal youth, a gift that is not within her power to give him. This

bitterness has become outright rivalry, which has only been exacerbated by the knowledge that they can roam free in one another’s domains.

Ivana bears physical marks of her curse;

her lips and fingernails are a pale blue, as in someone suffering from cyanosis. She typically covers this flaw with makeup, but all of her lovers have seen it—usually just before their deaths. Ivana has managed to distill her own poisonous blood into an alchemical elixir that grants longevity and youth to those that drink it, while also draining them of passion and feeling, but this elixir is useless to her cousin Ivan, whose own alchemical mastery makes him immune to such toxins.

When Ivana wishes to close the borders, pale violet mist rises up that induces toxic convulsions in those that try to cross it. This fog also poisons any water that is carried through it for days afterward, though at a less severe rate. Anyone who tries to leave Borca while the borders are closed is exposed to Lethal (–4) poison; drinking water that crossed a closed border is Venomous (+0) poison. Ivana can keep the borders closed for days at a time, but rarely does so—

especially since Ivan and his chosen agents are all immune to its effects.

The coastal domain of Dementlieu is a bastion of modernity, a land of secrets and hidden loyalties. The domain lies on a broad, green floodplain dappled with lush

woodlands and heaths. The realm’s western shore along the Sea of Sorrows is blessed with numerous natural ports. Although the terrain is flat, Dementlieu’s soil is sandy, and crop yields tend to be low, with stunted plants and small fruits. Scattered, sun-dappled forests cover the regions that agriculture has not claimed. The coastline is edged with rolling, sand dune beaches. Dementlieu’s climate is blessedly mild, characterized by frequent precipitation and moderate

temperatures. Severe winters and sweltering summers are not unheard of, however.

The buildings in the domain are tall and narrow, densely packed edifices of dull brown stone that loom over the narrow, twisting village streets. Windows and doorways are trimmed with whitewashed wood, and the shallow, gabled roofs are shingled in rich, dark brown wood. Towers are crowned with elegant stone ornaments and statues of legendary artists and civic leaders.

The Dementlieuese tend toward slim but athletic builds and strong features with high cheekbones. Skin tones range from very pale to olive-tan, while eye color ranges from pale blue to green to dark brown. Hair is usually dark blond to light brown in color, with the occasional auburn. Beards and mustaches are common among men but always kept neatly trimmed and styled. Women never cut their hair short; noblewomen pin up their locks very meticulously, while poor women braid their hair.

Clothing is important to the

Dementlieuese, especially among the nobility. Commoner men wear dark woolen trousers and light cotton shirts and don cloth caps whether inside or outdoors. Gentlemen prefer breeches and silk shirts with tailed coats, as well as tall black hats. Wigs are considered proper for men in public life.

Commoner and noble women alike wear long, dark dresses with high-button boots and always wear hats when outdoors. Women of the lower classes wear simple bonnets, but the hat of a noblewoman is large and elaborate.

The Dementlieuese consider themselves to be a highly civilized people. They appreciate beauty and learning in all its forms, and their society is structured according to rigid

etiquette. Adherence to decorum is vital, and those who overstep the delicate balance between deference and bravado find themselves scorned. The Dementlieuese believe that their advanced society has earned them a place of respect among the civilized realms of the world, and they say so openly.

Not all outsiders are grateful for

Dementlieu’s contributions, and many folk consider the Dementlieuese to be shiftless fops who produce nothing of value.

Tropes

Dementlieu is intended to be a stylistic representation of enlightenment-era France.

In some ways, the domain is a showcase for what France might have looked like if the French Revolution hadn’t immediately descended into bloodshed and madness. On the surface, Dementlieu is a land of peace, prosperity, propriety, and great wealth;

beneath that veneer is a realm just as corrupt and awful as any monarchy, hypocritically held up as “superior” to prior forms of life.

From a game perspective, Dementlieu is a realm of courtly politics, socialization, and genteel backstabbing. It is intended to be a place where swords are drawn only

occasionally, with the deadliest adventures being those that involve words. Of course, there’s plenty of room for swashbuckling antics a la The Three Musketeers as well.

Themes

 Courtly and Genteel: People care a great deal about propriety and manners in Dementlieu. You can get away with almost anything as long as you’re polite about it. Conversely, it doesn’t matter how right you are about something if you’re rude, loud, or just annoying. Lack of respect is a reason for murder in this domain.

 Dangerous Liaisons: Due to the emphasis on propriety, romance and secrecy go hand in hand. Lovers meet in secret, affairs are conducted out of the public eye, and even married couples can rarely show one another affection except behind closed doors. At the same time, pushing the bounds of propriety is not just expected but encouraged. Men and women wear daring fashions, risking exposure for the chance to be noticed.

Secret lovers exchange lurid notes

through intermediaries, with the chance that those notes could be intercepted.

Furtive glances and quick touches are exchanged in crowded ballrooms. In short, people take risks with their propriety despite its importance.

 Age of Reason: The people of Dementlieu consider themselves eminently reasonable and enlightened—

which can make them utterly insufferable.

They don’t accept superstitious

explanations for things, rarely believe in monsters unless one is breathing down their necks, and reject both magic and faith. The only religion to have a strong foothold in the domain is a mystery-cult version of the Church of Ezra, and magic is seen as just another field in science—

and one that is poorly respected.

The Darklord

Dementlieu is ruled by a council of ministers, currently headed by the Lord-Governor Marcel Guignol. No one would suspect Guignol’s advisor Dominic

d’Honaire of being an evil mastermind, let alone the darklord of Dementlieu. Dominic has held a position of respect on the ruling council for many years, though he is considered both a moderate politician and the weakest member of the body. In truth, d’Honaire is a brilliant strategist and cunning manipulator whose machinations have made Dementlieu powerful and his enemies weak.

Dominic d’Honaire is a slightly portly middle-aged man with thinning red hair and a neatly trimmed red beard. His most

remarkable features are his pleasant smile and stunning blue eyes. He has an

unassuming and humble air until crossed; he withholds anger in public, preferring to settle his grudges behind closed doors.

As a child, Dominic was precocious and intelligent, always trying to use his intellect to get his own way. By the age of thirteen, he had manipulated his own father into

relocating the family and going into politics, with Dominic as the mastermind. Dominic’s uncanny charisma gradually transformed into

a genuine mesmeric ability to control minds, albeit subtly. Dominic has the power to implant hypnotic suggestions in people through conversation, manipulating them to his own ends. With enough time and care, he can turn people into veritable puppets for his will; he prefers subtle actions to overt ones, since enough open maneuvering could leave him exposed to scrutiny.

Dominic’s great weakness is women. His powers do not work on any woman he is genuinely attracted to. Indeed, the more Dominic lusts after a woman, the more repulsive she finds him. Several of his attempted affairs have ended in murder, and his marriage is a loveless sham entered into for political reasons.

Dominic has a powerful will, allowing him to close the borders of his domain for days or weeks on end. He rarely uses this power, however, since trade is the lifeblood of Dementlieu. When he does so, the distances at the border become uncertain and vague;

travelers find themselves turning back to Dementlieu without remembering why.

Dorvinia is a small, mountainous land northeast of Borca. The mountains of Dorvinia are said to be the last spur of the Balinoks, having crossed the Mists, but they are far less impressive than their Barovian cousins. The only significant mountain in the region is Mount Gries, a ragged peak that lies near the center of the country, surrounded by thick evergreen forests.

Dorvinia is a small, mountainous land northeast of Borca. The mountains of Dorvinia are said to be the last spur of the Balinoks, having crossed the Mists, but they are far less impressive than their Barovian cousins. The only significant mountain in the region is Mount Gries, a ragged peak that lies near the center of the country, surrounded by thick evergreen forests.