At first sight Revoca Town appears to be an atomized mess of bleak,
narrow-windowed tower-houses and muddy alleys sullenly and
suspiciously walled off from each other.
Admittedly, repeated glances do not
disabuse one of that impression.
The town is, in point of fact, a
brooding self-confined mess of mutual hostility, a sorry state only
reinforced by centuries of Pikra-Svar, a peculiar local form of
blood-feud characterized by ritualized passive-aggression and baleful
stares.
An elaborately-embossed beech post-board--weekly festooned
with a host of veiled slights, oblique satire and faint praise
scrawled anonymously on small pieces of vellum--plays central stage
for Pikra-Svar feuds. Rankled talk of such messages typically
dominate conversation for weeks (if not months) over dinners taken in
the dark shadows of the windowless halls, ultimately culminating with
feigning even knowledge of the physical existence of the rival
individual or clan.
Fortunately for the traveler, years of
near-universal repressed neighborly hate has left each towerhoused
clan intensely eager for outside company. Revoca as such is unique
among the towns of the Hill Cantons in not only not wanting to
utterly fleece newcomers, but in actively competing to host
travelers. That is...for roughly a week in which time they become too
familiar and find themselves suddenly and viciously put down on the
board.
People of Note
Brako the Heinous. Just outside
of town sits Weapons and Shit, a one-stop hut/craft
shop/dojo run by Brako, an ancient, not-yet-set-on-fire 41-year-old
Chaos Monk. He's got Himyari throwing stars, shit on chains,
nunchuks, kamas, fucking pommel horses. All that shit.
Princess Zuzu, Girl Wizard. The
potent, precocious and precious Zuzu will trade and cast spells if
you sit for tea with her and wear a party hat (and throw in some
change for her next admiral's uniform). Totally not a real princess. 7th level User of Magic.
Svart the Woodcutter.
Tight-lipped Xamuran rover of the mythic wilderness to the east.
Though he looks like he would kill you soon as look at you, locals
say he's the man to hire as a guide (50 gold suns or a 1/3rd
share a session). 1st level Ranger. Hp: 8. Big ass axe.
Father Hog/Sister Sow. An
immense, centuries-old, ring-eyed talking pig runs religious services
in the community. Switching between the roles of a gruff but jovial,
mustard-yellow-berobed Father Hog half the week and the world-wise,
maternal, rouged, midnight-blue-gowned Sister Sow the rest, the pig
manages to serve both the local Sundome and softshell-heretical
Evening Star Lodge.
That's one dedicated pig, pa.
Places of Note
Our Lady of the Not-Lake. While
most outsiders might recognize this as a flower-festooned,
“country”-aesthetic pagan shrine to the Pahr lake godlet, Mojca
(pronounced MOY-tsa) of the Tarn, locals will correct you,
maintaining that this is, in fact, Mojca the Creek-Goddess. The
narrow, broken-edged lapis-lazuli-covered pedestal the primly-painted
idol rises out of seems to have been at one time a large circular
(perhaps “lake-like”?) surface.
The Void Lodge. A rather large
and tolerated community of heretics live in Revoca. Worshipers of
Habeka the Lady are mostly members of the moderate Evening Star
Society, but even members of the mystic sect the Starry Void have
some aboveground representation here in the form of an underground
lodge.
Which I acknowledge is a confusing way
to put it.
Throvemesto. Miners make up a
distinct community just to the west of Revoca proper. Behind a wooden
stockade sit rows of tidy, stone dormotories. The miners, proud
working folk, disdain both the “bow thugs” of management and the
residents of Revoca who they view as insufferably "mental."
Hrad Morva. Perched up on the
high mound north of town is the strangely contrasting sight of the
Lady's castle. The bulk of an ancient earthen hill-fort jostles with
the new-fangled chateau.
Places to Stay
Everywhere (see the first section
above). Start with the better families with the sturdy well-kept
towers near the market and then work your west through the
increasingly immiserated clans. Visitors who have attained a Rank
greater than that of Third and exhibiting a manner less than base are
invited to dine and dwell with the most noble Knyaz Draga III “the
Twitterlight" at her castle, Hrad Morva.
Or avoid the whole game (you would,
with your coastal elite ways) and stay at the Four Dumplings, a
quaint, three-bedroom, tower-inn run by the invasive and
saccharine-friendly cat-masked widow Pani Velka. The cost in coins is
cheap (5 silver ladies/night), the cost in emotional comfort
immeasurable.
Places to Shop
It's simple, you can't buy anything but
the barest of staples until the bi-weekly markets on Drunkday and
Moonsday. Fortunately an aspiring border ruffian or murderhold
procurement specialists wandering the rickety market stalls and
charming refuse-decorated grounds can find an array of tools of the
trade for purchase. There is always a chance of finding strange and
enscorcelled items strangely on a random-seeming weekly-fleeting
basis.
Revoca Town Fun Facts
Xam. Defying easy stereotype are the Xam, a tight-lipped, industrious and physically distinctive group
of locals with dull-golden skin that seems to glisten sparkly in the
sun. They as, a race, seem inclined to humble, physically-oriented
positions such as shepherd, water-fetcher, pigkeeper or woodcutter.
Uniformly curly bronze-red hair and gray-eyed with a look of
perpetual menace, really they would kill you as soon as look at you.
The Xamuran Whistle. A regional
dialect made up of high and low whistles developed by Xam
shephards, naturally expressing a limited vocabulary and range. Most
all native Revocans can at least whistle a few cutting tones.
It was good, then workaholic transvestite clerical pig took it into post-of-the-year territory and I blacked out.
ReplyDeleteStrange place you've got there.
ReplyDeleteI think Zuzu has a lost sister somewhere very rusty.
ReplyDelete