keftiu wrote: It could be cute it Irrisen has a head start on film and puts out all sorts of weird fantasy and horror flicks. That could make a lot of sense, considering the whole Spoiler: thing! Imagine if, like, Nosferatu and Metropolis were EVEN MORE influential on film than in our world! travel to early 20th-century Russia
Two decades ago, 2.5 decades ago, there was a short-lived trend for writing versions of fantasy settings in the equivalent of the year 2000 ~ *Dragon* did Greyhawk 2000, one of the writers on Legend of the 5 Rings got the job by doing a fan project called Rokugan 2000, etc. These settings took the pre-existing worldbuilding and reinterpreted with modern-to-cyberpunk societal and technological innovations, and sometimes blending the narrative constructions of genres pointing more towards the modern world with those of the high fantasy genre. Occasionally, there were anime conventions brought in, such as mecha and the like. Starfinder wouldn't be Golarion 2K, since it is set in a conceptual "further future" than modern-to-cyberpunk. So.... that was a long-winded intro to asking:
I'm a dirty immersionist who read too many Tolkien encyclopediae in my formative years ~ this kind of deep inquiry into worldbuilding elements that are not directly relevant to the game-as-game of Pathfinder (or any fantasy setting) is fun for me XD Do we have any definitions for any words in the languages of Golarion? Like, do we know any words in Azlanti or Vudran or Taldane? So far I've only found one ~ Cities of Golarian mentions that "Nisroch" means "Place of the Drowning Spirits". The book describes it, I believe, as either "the language of the ancient horselords" or "the ancient Kellid language" cuz back then the Nidalese were considered Kellid and not their own ethnicity (being their own ethnicity makes more sense imo), but I have mentally placed it as a word in the Proto-Avistani language I mentioned in my Nidalese linguistics thread. Oh! and I just remembered that Nidal, Land of Shadow does give us the names of two horse breeds. One of them is chiardmarr, I think, but I can't recall the other one off the top of my head. Are there any other words defined anywhere in any Golarionic language? I imagine place-names will be the most fertile crops here, as those seem most likely to be defined as Nisroch was.
BigNorseWolf wrote: there's very likely some strict prohibitions on what the pact worlds government can control as opposed to the members, like the early US constitution or UN My read on the situation is that it's somewhere in between the general lack of power held by the UN General Assembly (since the Security Council basically is the only bit that has any power, even if very limited) and the United States Senate and House of Representatives (which, despite the general ascendancy of the executive branch, is intended to be the central governing power in our country). The lack of a specific executive branch seems to indicate that the Pact Council and Directorate have that power as well as legislative power. It's even possible that they have judicial powers as well! Considering the likely scale of the Council (we're dealing with planetary populations here, mind you - it almost certainly resembles Star Wars's Galactic Senate than, say, the US Cabinet), it seems like those functions could somewhat easily be handled by various committees and subcommittees of the larger Council. Alternatively, the Directorate might represent the executive branch.... I think I'd play it closer to corporate structure, I think (though I am an anti-corporatist by nature). The Directorate, well, directs, establishing a high level, sort of meta-, legislature that the Council is intended to follow while they process the everyday legislative and higher executive/judicial functions. They would then have the power to veto, or even just step in and take over, most any decision or function of the Pact Council that they deemed was either not proceeding according to their Directives or that needed their personal attention to ensure that it does. No doubt, there is a procedure and/or (probably both) threshold which can protect a decision/function of the Council from Directorate intervention. The Council and most of its sub-bodies would probably require some sort of majority (prolly closer to 50+1 than, say, 2/3rds, but I'm not sure), while the Directorate can only act with consensus.
Icyshadow wrote:
I know more Sumerian than I do Akkadian (not saying too much) and OOH BOY is that a wibbly-wobbly, silly-willy, go-home-you're-drunk orthography. I've tried writing out Sumerian using the cuneiform you can access on Google products, and it was an exercise in patience and frustration. But so pretty, though! <3 you, cuneiform! Kakama! There is, obviously, Ninshabur as a place that begs to use a cuneiformic system (and is even stated as having done so), but that means players are pretty unlikely to see it....Areshkigal is a demon lord, and there's Nurgal and Nergal, and there are girtablilu and shedu and lamassu and such around.... Ninshabur seems to have exerted a significant influence on Kelesh, and thus on Qadira. Considering the other influences there, Keleshite script might be a Demotic-like cursive form of cuneiform in a flowing, calligraphic style like Arabic. Sounds pretty ~ if I had any visual-arts skill, I might play around with that. Sarenrae has made High Ninshabur part of her realm in Nirvana, too, so I can totes see cuneiform being the basis for a cultic language in her worship.
I had the idea to stat up Hello Kitty mostly because one of my Beloveds is a GINORMOUS Hello Kitty fan. Well, okay, zey is actually a Bad Batz Maru fan, but guess whose merch is easier to find? So then I started thinking about a world called Sanri, a D&D setting I could slowly build up from that base idea. Only I couldn't decide between statting up HK in D&D5 or PF1. I could see benefits to both, but the way either system would shape Sanri was less easy to predict. Meet Haroktii Howait, ruler of the realm of Mishru in Sanri Phaivii. She has a counterpart, of course, in Sanri Pyefwan, and I plan to stat out more and more characters from this and other IPs to explore the similarities and differences between the types of setting each system is most suited towards. Lemme know what you think!
Ah, Pangolais! The city which hides away even from Nidal’s dimmed sun beneath the black leaves of the Uskwood! Where every sound’s reverberations are swallowed by those leaves til they whisper and that whisper can almost be heard above the hush! Glittering in a thousand grays, interrupted only by streets like captured moons glowing dimmed while the cathedrals watch with their rose-shaped eyes and academies glower miserly over the ancient laments of those whom Earthfall saved. I imagine that some overwrought Edgar Allen Poe look-alike among the Nidalese here has written of this city like that. It does sound romantically beautiful. Here, explorations into the Dark Tapestry and the Shadow Plane which would be the defining pursuit of any other town pale in comparison to the Cathedral of Exquisite Agony, Zon-Kuthon’s greatest temple. It’s described in Inner Sea Temples, so at least it doesn’t distract from the gothic dream home that is Pangolais. Elegance rules the day ~ night? ~ no, day ~ right? ~ anyway . . . ~ in Pangolais, where Kuthite bladed harps drift weavingly among the fragrance of moonflowers in the cafes where vampires and caligni chat and chuckle among those races who could handle the sun if they ever saw it. We’re given a statblock for Pangolais, and it’s pretty much what you would expect, honestly. In a vast improvement over its mother-game, Pathfinder has finely tuned its city statblocks to convey useful information (rules can be found in the GameMastery Guide). For example, the third line down (after the name of the city, its completely unshocking alignment, and its general size category) tells me that bribery attempts, Bluff checks against guards and officials, and Stealth checks outside will all get a +3 bonus, as will (coincidentally) Diplomacy checks to gather information and Knowledge checks when researching in libraries. That’s rather a lower Lore rating (the latter bonus) then I would have guessed, considering Nidal’s unique stores of texts twice as old as Earthly civilization. I’d probably play that as the Nidalese keeping quite a stringent grip on this national treasure of theirs, as well as a myriad very specific specializations among its sages that makes finding the exact thing you’re looking for harder to find than it would seem at first. Crime is kept relatively low here, giving only a +1 bonus to Sense Motive checks to avoid being bluffed and Sleight of Hand checks to pick pockets. This is a weirdness in Pathfinder’s rules, actually ~ these bonuses seem at odds. Crime +1 means that not much crime happens in Pangolais, enough to be a worry (it’s not negative, after all) but not a big worry. Why does that make pickpocketing easier while also making it harder to bluff people? Surely the first represents people being suspicious while the second represents them letting down their guard? Checks to make money get a +2 bonus, reflecting the wealth of the large city. Again, lower than I might have expected for such an important place, but it makes sense in a society so driven by patronage. People don’t necessarily go shopping in such cultures, they have their usual providers from whom they always purchase whatever particular good or service that person produces. Personal relationships are very important here, which is something I do which this book stressed more. The strictness of Nidalese law can result in a whopping +6 bonus to Intimidate checks (if you invoke the threat of the law to force friendliness), Diplomacy checks against government officials, or Diplomacy checks made to call on the city guard. On the other hand, Diplomacy checks to alter the attitude of non-governmental officials get a +4 bonus due to the town’s cosmopolitan openness to unusual visitors. Disguise checks, as well. A list of qualities follow, letting us know that the city is both academic and insular (the latter of which increases Law slightly and decreases Crime, but weirdly has no effect on Society, which reflects the society’s openness to the new and unusual), as well as three new qualities described right here in the stat block. Religiously intolerant is the same as racially intolerant from the GameMastery Guide, only it forces non-Kuthites rather than any particular race to pay half-again for everything and to get harassed in various ways. It seems that its dominance by the cruel and literally dark faith of Zon-Kuthon DOES effect the city’s Society rating negatively, as well as upping its Law rating and greatly increasing its Danger. As the seat of Zon-Kuthon’s worship, its Corruption is increased, as is the maximum spellcasting available here (by a whole two levels, which stacks with the benefit from the academic quality, maxing out the available spellcasting at 9th-level spells). That Danger rating I mentioned? It’s a whopping 30, which is intended as an addition to percentile CR-ranked encounter tables. Using the samples given in the GameMastery Guide, this means that in many urban environments, nothing easier than a CR 3 will show up randomly. Pangolais has 18,900 people in it. That’s on the lower side of Rome’s size in 1300, and just about 1100 people smaller than Cahokia was a century earlier (on the bottom range of possible sizes for Cahokia at the time) or Paris was three centuries earlier. Of those, 11,000 are humans (about 58%, almost 3 in 5 people), 3500 are caligni (18.5%, a little more than 1 in 6 people), 2400 are fetchlings/kayal (12.7% or about 1 in 8), and 2000 are members of various other races (a tiny bit more than 1 in 10). This is certainly a very integrated city! Most of the NPCs described in this statblock will be discussed later, but I’m gonna guess that the Hierarch of the Cathedral, a LE male vampire (of what race originally? Grrr!) cleric of the Midnight Lord 13 named Chartaigne, is described in Inner Sea Temples, because the statblock is his only mention. Finally, the statblock informs us that it’s fairly easy to find mundane items of a value up to 8000 g, which is rather impressive considering that any given shopkeeper can only afford to pay about 6 times that for anything the party has to sell. Magical items, on the other hand, well . . . n average, you’ll find 10 (anywhere from 4 to 16) minor items, 7 or 8 medium items (3-12), and 5 major items (2-8) for sale here. That’s quite the magic shop! It’s probably 3 or 4, to be honest.
UnArcaneElection wrote: Wonder what they do for the rest of the calories they need to do their Monk stuff (and just live)? Follow up with really bad food? A quick spot of research tells me that martial artists need between 4 and 5 thousand calories a day to operate at a high level ~ which also seems to be true for long-distnace hikers/campers. I found this exact breakdown of a 4000-calorie diet for ultralight hiking, which weighs only 2 pounds a day. Sure, much of that requires our industrialized food production system, but consider that the entire point is that they ride the line of "not having enough food" to meet their masochistic needs as Kuthites, and . . . Izkrael wrote: Damn Breathatarians You laugh, but this is a place where wizards casually violate the laws of physics and monks turn into angels if they advance far enough along their way. The idea that the scarred monks practice some sort of esoteric meditative/chakric/body control techniques to reduce their calorie needs and optimize their metabolism doesn't pop my susspenders of disbelief. ****** Kayalhi, as you might be able to tell from the name, is a town full of fetchlings who view visiting humans with wariness. It’s peaceful and as prosperous as someplace described as “hardscrabble” can be. Despite their lack of piety, and moreover their disinterest in making a show of what devotion they do have, the Umbral Court tends to leave the 175 residents of the village alone. You can send your thanks and support to Chancellor Zelvith, a LN female fetchling mesmerist 4 (yay! Occult classes!) who does make a show of things and generally don the gladhanding performance work necessary to appease the Court. She also runs a network of anonymous foreign spies, trading what they have learned for Kayalhi’s unmolested existence. Her age is catching up to her, though, so she has a need for a successor to this work. In a lovely little detail, we are told of Kayalhi’s fame and how that fame has inspired the creation of inconspicuous taverns and gathering places called “the local kayalhi” where fetchling culture and cuisine allows them to relax, gossip, support each other both financially and socially, and hold special events like weddings, new-baby celebrations, parties of all kinds, and memorial services. It’s an early version of a community center, and it sounds weirdly cozy for Nidal and for its gray-skinned oppressed minority. Next time I’m running a game in Nidal, I will have to ensure that there is, at minimum, one scene set in the local kayalhi! A Desnan cult used an occult ritual known as veil structure to hide away a secret lodge in the Uskwood where they stored many treasures and a library of Kuthite vulnerabilities. They were tracked down and destroyed or forced to go into hiding. With no initiates who could see it, the lodge was lost. The druids set up some monstrous defenses where they thought it might be, mostly a nest of deathwebs (CR 6 undead spiders from the third Bestiary) and struck it from their record books. Of course, now even the druids have forgotten it ever existed, leaving only a few scattered writings and a single memory in the Cathedral of Embodied Wisdom to be found by revolutionary PCs, which is a rather nice hook for a very interesting Leverage-or-Shadowrun-style heist. A slightly domed 25-foot-diameter crystal window overlooks Nisroch Bay from the cliffs above it, the result of a Chelish magical defense during the Everwar against a random portal to the Shadow Plane. It’s called the Moonless Mirror and it attracted the attention of Yisaothai the Oil-Tongued, a dark naga with the shadow lord template (CR 10, in total, with appreciation from me for combining elements of two different books). I seriously love the name Yisaothai, bringing together a very Kellid Mongolian sound with some serious and not-boring serpentine sibilants (I’m looking at you, Faerun). Yisaothai now rules a fiefdom on the Shadow side of the portal and continuously works to convince mortals to break the mirror blocking the portal. A young fisherman by the name of Wyldon, a lowly N human expert 1, is his most promising possibility, as he is susceptible to promises of wealth and the affections of the :local beauty” he has a crush on. Of course, erosion is wearing the cliff that holds the mirror away, so Wyldon better get on it if he wants help from the other side with his problems. A nice small story with pretty large consequences, that is. Far larger consequences than just Yisaothai’s Challenge Rating would indicate; recall, please, that they rule an entire fiefdom. I approve. We need more such things, to force murderhobo and heroic PCs alike to recognize the everyday struggles of the common people. Also near Nisroch, though hidden by very specifically planted black-leaved trees is a fortified quay called Nightbinder’s Wharf, which sees shadowcallers and other Nidalese agents (including druids with shadowy or powerful companions on paid commissions by the Umbral Court, the rich, or even foreign dignitaries, mostly Chelish) leave for foreign service. Tight secrecy is kept by the Court with the disappearance of both spies and the occasional random wanderer. I assume this is another call out to Liane’s two Nidalese novels. Speaking of “gloomy, salt-stained” Nisroch (why not “salty, gloom-stained”? More poets need to write these things :p Though its other name, the Maw of Shadow, is kinda cute if awkwardly worded; it’ll be Shadow’s Maw in my game) is noted as the most joyless and forbidding of cities. Its status as the primary port for foreigners is blamed for this depressing state, though the text notes that this is an intentional effort by the Umbral Court to discourage long-term, meddling visitors. Thus, the city is very quickly established as Nidal’s own domestic noir setting. This is only cemented by mention that the Usk River sharply divides the beautiful villas of the well-to-do from the poor hovels. It’s detailed in Cities of Golarion, so this is all we’re told. The Ombrefell stretches its branches between the Atteran Ranches and the Uskwood. This is where the Xoskerik shadow giants have made their home alongside forest drakes, malevolent fey, and a few Uskwood druids. Other entries from the gazetteer can be found here: Soth-Silir, the Fields of Pain’s Forgetting which I’ve already discussed, and the Viridian Forge. Orolo’s Quay has almost forgotten its days as a bustling seaport, coastal Varisia’s settlement having stolen its business, leaving the Chelish fortress here to crumble among the gulls and smugglers. Speaking of, I simply adore the last name of the smuggler leader, Brovos Gulltongue, a CN male Varisian half-orc brawler 6 and pirate who was forced to flee into superficial devotions to Zon-Kuthon as a way to escape the enemies he’d made from Riddleport to Magnimar. Sadly, he has named his gang simply “the Gulls” and will beat you for mocking its drabness. They tend to take food and liquor in and take drugs and oddities out, but occasionally they smuggle people if Brovos thinks it won’t be a risk to his perch in the nigh abandoned city. Fancying himself a hero of the people, he mostly does this for runaway slaves and needy old folk, though pretty ladies can flatter the ill-mannered rogue into helping them. Gifts of good stories or live fish and swigs of Riddleport scorpion rum also work. Googling “scorpion rum” mostly just turns up things about a Buffalo wing restaurant. A colony of incutilises (incutiles? However you pluralize it, they’re brain-like CR 2 nautiluses with CR 8 lords) has joined the Gulls in the harbor, occasionally kidnapping them or their cargo of people to use as zombies. No one has noticed against the background level of disappearances among the outlaws.
Tiny content warning: there’s a bit of gruesomeness in the very last sentence that might be difficult. Please take care of yourselves. There’s a fortress in the southern Mindspins that seems made of shadows and probably houses velstracs performing strange rituals. It’s called the Hall to Broken Dream and will be detailed later in the book. Chelish diplomat Perevill Hesperix made his home in a rather Gothic manor between Ridwan and the Umbral Basin. Much like the Chelish family that founded Dauphenal Vineyard, Perevill’s family lost all claim on the manor when they lost their lives for backing a House other than Thrune in the Chelish Civil War. Its new owners, the Umbral Court, ignored it until an agent of theirs named Celefin of Pangolais, a LE female half-elf wizard 15, bought it 30 years ago. Her vocal support of the Belevais Doctrine has convinced the undead contingent on the Umbral Court to block her ascension. Once Celefin realized this, she withdrew and retired here in disgust. Celefin has become a scholar of anti-undead warfare, even publishing on the subject under a false name and corresponding with foreign worshippers of Pharasma and even Sarenrae. Her careful adherence to Nidalese law, shows of (probably honest) loyalty, and powerbase have protected her so far. But there are definitely people on the Court itching to punish her. The House of Lies is one of my favoritestest locations in Nidal. In the northwestern Uskwood overlooking the Usk River, it hosts a quintennial competition of untruths in which the greatest liars, braggarts, and con artists compete. It’s a carryover from the cultural openness of the Shadowbreak and will be detailed later. Icebow Bridge is the home of the Library Without Light, where the texts brought by Azlanti and Thassilonian refugees fleeing Earthfall 10,000 years ago brought into Nidal. To this day, they are not organized but randomly stores on the Library Without Light’s shelves. Written in a hundred languages (most long-dead), the library contains an almost unimaginable amount of all manner of knowledge from a world that, simply put, no longer exists ~ the rituals, genealogies, naturalists’ notes, and even the maps are unrecognizable today. Nonetheless, people come from all over Avistan (and probably Garund, Casmaron, and even Tian Xia, I would imagine) to study these texts. Anyone can petition Master Librarian Hale Craggox, a NE human investigator 4/wizard 2 to study here among his many acolytes and apprentices. Of course, the folk of the Library are filled out with at least one member of the Umbral Court and three or four of their agents. It’s considered a very prestigious assignment. As I’ve said before, I simply adore the idea that Nidal hosts more ancient knowledge than any other nation in Avistan, as it gives PCs a reason to go there while disincentivizing a righteous murder spree against the evil pain-lovers. Pitting taste and possibly alignment against advancement of goals is a classic conflict. It’s nice to see the investigator get some play here, too. It’s one of my (too many >.< ) favorite classes in Pathfinder 1st edition and is art of a larger trend in Paizo’s game design that I really enjoy. It’s something that attracted me to Exalted, as well (squeezed in between squeeing at the glorious intersection of shounen anime and classical epics) They’ve often done a simply brilliant job of writing classes, archetypes, monsters/race, and the like that reference unexpected inspirations ~ the investigator being essentially Sherlock Holmes, which is one of the least D&D things I can think of, but also stuff like the magical child archetype of the vigilante ~ and then find ways to integrate it into the setting and expand their conceptual space. I’ve used the investigator, for example, to represent a 17th/18th-century style naturalist before. It also lets you bash together disparate ideas in a way that’s very D&D and yet feels organic and appropriate to the setting. One of these days I’ll play that caecilia magical girl vigilante character, which is to say: what if Ursula from The Little Mermaid became Sailor Moon in D&D? Poor unfortunate souls, indeed… The scarred monks of Nidal train at the millennia-old Irogath Monastery, literally carved into the side of the Mindspin Mountains. A knotted maze of monastically bare chambers whose doors can be in any of the six directions (yes, including up and down) twists among itself with only stone benches unadorned with cushions for reading and others for sleeping. Unexpectedly and delightfully, its noted that the monks eat delicious food, but that the torture comes in the infinitesimal nature of their portions. I love that detail, and it fits in with a lot of my understanding as an aspiring polytheist nun of how monastic devotions work, at least outside of a Catholic context. It’s not about rejecting pleasure or the world, but maximizing one’s ability to delight in it. Of course, for Kuthites enjoying the pain and discomfort is more of the focus than the old canard, “A mundane person can drink as many kegs of ale as they like and stay stone sober, but a magician can get drunk off the mere sight of a glass of water.” But I think there’s not much difference between the two, and that’s a large part of why I love Nidal. For extra sadism, snowmelt flows through some of the rooms, channeled into beautiful kinetic sculptures. Oddly, these sculptures also make heavy use of the light effects of the water (presumably, glints and rainbows). Merinda the Striped (such a good name), a LE human monk (scarred monk) 8, is the Mistress of the monaster, and she is said to be able to see one’s devotion to the Midnight Lord or any of the heresies against him with steady eye contact. Rumors ascribe any number of tortures and horrors to the inner chambers, including the lovely image of previous monastic hopefuls, maimed yet living, serving the ordeal by taking out their agony and envy on newer contenders. None know successful aspirants receive for enduring these tortures, save for a brand of a spiked chain on their back and access to the scarred monk archetype from Horror Realms. Said archetype replaces high jump, wholeness of body, abundant step, and empty body with the monk’s choice of several “mortifications”. My favorite are doll face, in which the monk removes their face and from then on can steal porcelain doll versions of corpse’s faces for intimidation and can shift the doll to look like people’s loved ones, and tongueless master, which allows monks who wear their own tongues on a necklace to steal people’s voices with a punch in order to be able to speak with that person’s voice (they can’t speak usually).
The Fields of Pain’s Forgetting grow a wide variety of narcotic and hallucinogenic plants, most of which commit the Nidalese sin of dulling or negating pain. All are addictive. Mushrooms are mentioned (of the luminous sort) and poppies (specifically white ones), too, but the most notable among them is flayleaf, a muscle relaxant and analgesic that increases suggestibility and can be made into a very hallucinogenic drink called Riddleport tea. As that suggests, flayleaf is mostly associated with Varisia. The Umbral Court, who operates the fields by means of the grumpy and jaded Mistress Cultivator Preali Dhat (N fetchling alchemist 4/druid 2 whose anger stems from not being in the Court), loves to mix these drugs with poisonous substances to help them find weakling infidels who try to avoid Zon-Kuthon’s teachings. I imagine these poisons cause particularly spectacular deaths and Umbral agents across the realm have been trained to listen for sudden outbreaks of such deaths, allowing them to locate the users and dealers of these drugs. I kinda like that Nidal has a War on Painkillers like this. It’s a neat little extrapolation from their premise. I also like Preali Dhat ~ her alignment is a welcome break from the waves of evil and could provide for quite interesting interactions with PCs, and her class combination is both unusual and appropriate. Of course, there are sometimes uses for removing the touch of the Midnight Lord, and so the Fields’ primary beneficiaries are churches, cathedrals, and the wonderfully termed “independent houses of torture.” Pragmatism wins out every time. Leading through the Minspin Mountains to Molthune, Ghorvaul’s Crossing is home to an ancient bit of tribal revenge. Enemies of the main Nidalese tribes, the Ehrotai tribe refused to seek refuge with Zon-Kuthon after Earthfall. Their spiritworkers committed ritual suicide, hoping to preserve the mory of their people by becoming ghosts. Instead, they rose as a multi-limbed monstrosity known as a charnel colossus (CR 19), that did retain their memories and traditions. So that’s nice, at least. Shadowcallers trade sacrifices for questions. The sacrifices have their bodies and minds incorporated into the Speakers of the Ehrotai, as the colossus is named. Usually, it’s one person per question, but if the Speakers can learn a lot from the person, they might allow more. Giving yourself over to the Speakers is well-known amongst the jaded members of the Kuthite faith as a way to both end their ennui and to have, at least, a novel kind of suffering accompany your death. The Speakers of the Ehrotai are a wonderful way to keep the Kellid history of Nidal present. It fits right in with the themes and ways of the culture while still allowing for a relationship with PCs other than “kill it!” and provides a nice element for any deep-immersion role-player to include in their character’s backstory. How did their ancestors relate to the Ehrotai 10,000 years ago? This could also provide backstories for ancient Nidalese magic items untouched by the Midnight Lord, which might also prompt involvement with the Speakers, who won’t say anything (such as a command word) without a sacrifice. What are your good-aligned Desnan and Milanite PCs gonna do in that case? How deep is their dedication to revolution? Or just think of what it might mean for the Molthuni, if they ever manage to get it together to invade Nidal? An invasion of Nidal seems like the one story I might tell involving Molthune, which is largely pretty bland in my limited reading of that realm. Caustic, poisonous crimson smoke that will slay any living creature in minutes and blackened stone walls herald the rich deposits of gems in the Godsblood Crevasse, which cuts through the hissing wastes southeast of Ridwan known as the Weeping Fields. Wow, that’s a region that really calls forth the purple prose and heavy metal imagery, isn’t it? Specifically, the crevasse holds pigeon’s-blood rubies, and its stores (mined by alchemically-petrified skeletons) have seemed inexhaustible for centuries. Surely, it’s a gift from the Midnight Lord! The rubies are the only colored gemstones considered in good taste by Nidalese fashonistas. Grenda of Elith Lorin, a LE female graveknight fighter 9 and member of the Umbral Court, oversees the bony miners. I bet Preali Dhat hates her for being on the Court. She gets her skeletons, officially speaking, from Kuthites who have sold their labor after death. However, the smoke wears away at them, even through their alchemical processing, and so her overseers are less than strict about their methods of replacing them. A curiously cold basin of water surrounded by frost blighted plants sits near the outlet of the Usk Lake to the Usk River. Despite the local’s dismissal of fisherfolk stories about seeing ice deep below the surface, this basin hosts a qallupilluk by the name of Kialuk. The qallupillk is based on an Inuit creature, the qalupalik. She’d fought with her sisters over a stolen child and was exiled, travelling south (presumably from the Crown of the World or damn near) til she came here. Several crates of liquid ice stolen from an unlikely Kuthite caravan made her hovel at least livable and intimidated the merrows, scrags, and other monsters of the lake. She is now a petty queen living in fear of running out of the very limited resource that allows her to live and maintain her power. This fear drives her to command her servants to travel Nidalese rivers in search of a replacement, preferably a permanent one. Kialuk is nice ~ she connects Nidal (somewhat randomly) to the outer world and feels pleasingly like the kind of kids’ TV villainess common to the many cartoons and shows I watched as a child. I simply cannot help but imagine Rita Repulsa’s voice bubbling out from Kialuk’s mouth. Aristotelian ideas of dramatic conservation want me to tie her into Alkaiva of the Uskwood’s winter wolf, but my interest in immersion and mythopoeia would want to resist that as being unrealistic.
UnArcaneElection wrote:
It certainly changes one's mental image of Avistan, doesn't it, this one little detail? I do especially like the idea that the Kuthite clergy use their divine magicks to maintain the clouds of coal-black smoke hanging ominously over the realm, pulling the famous Londonesque pea-soup fog with their miracles from the cold, dewy ground and the genteel streets of Pangolais to install it high above where it can block the light of the hated sun. As a devotional polytheist (and some of this is culture-specific, rather than derived from a broad theological type or orientation to certain types of praxis), it actually fits more closely with how I understand the complex and ongoing interactions between mortal, immortal, and cosmos. Many types of priest are essentially cosmological handymen, maintenance workers who keep the ma'at, the ollin (yes, those are two concepts from very different places and very different cultures, do please forgive me; I work with both) functioning well so that the world doesn't break down. Importing that and twisting it to a Nidalese context makes mevery happy. Thank you for the idea! *************** Blacksulfur Pond is a pretty standard creepy pond. It has no visible inlet and sits in the middle of a hush. It even looks black from a distance, though that illusion is revealed as such with a closer inspection. It is not the water that is black, but the pondbottom itself, a shimmering darkness. It is a dead pond, with no life of any type in it or on it or around it. If you ask the locals, they’ll tell you it’s got a fissure to the Darklands’s gasses, but in truth it’s a portal to a pond in the Shadow Plane, one not very well-known on the other side. The Umbral Court once watched this portal for incursions, but they’ve been so rare that only Leorel of Nisroch (NE human abjurer 3) guards the pond. And he lives an hour away, without much drive to travel all that way very diligently. I like that he’s an abjurer, quite a bit actually. For one, it’s an all-too-oft-ignored subclass, and I appreciate it being presented here as being tied into the world/situation in a way with more meat than ticking off boxes (like, the “this university needs a professor from every school of magic” thing). For another, it’s not the school of magic I immediately associate with Nidal and its tropes, so seeing abjuration show up here helps imagine Nidal as a place with a complex and verisimilitudinous culture. Makes me want to play an abjurer Umbral agent, actually, with a similar job. Brimstone Springs is high up in the Mindspins. Tolkien-ish territory, remember? Its named for the sulfurous and brightly colored Soulsheen Baths. As with many such places, they are popular as a cure for many things with all the toxic chemicals in their waters. Yeah, okay, confusing poison for medicine is a little over-the-top “fair is foul”, but it’s also extremely realistic. This is one of the times that restraint would actually make the setting seem more alien and one-dimensional. The Nidalese especially enjoy immersing themselves in various poison waters that stain their skin yellow and grant them visions of their afterlives if they stay in them for a day. It also decides where they’re going; a drowning devil named Reinoks uses it to collect souls for Infernal Duke Crocell. They’re similarities to certain Hellish places have started to attract a number of Chelish tourists to Brimstone Spring, as well, setting up some nice chance for the isolationists v. Cheliax fans conflict to pop up in an unusual setting where many people would have their defenses lowered. Evidently, they’re featured in the Giantslayer adventure path’s gazetteer of the Minspins. I should read that, because now I really wanna play out an underhanded political adventure or even campaign in Brimstone Springs! The Latinist in me really loves the image of cloak-and-dagger political intrigue among the baths and the wandering steam. I do wish I knew of even one or two NPCs published here or somewhere else that had yellow skin and knowledge that they would go to Hell when they died. It would make an interesting motivation for a good-aligned Chelaxian, actually ~ they don’t feel the need to be evil because they can rest assured that they will end up where they want to be after death, so they can safely and freely go against the grain of the culture. The Cairn of Attai Horse-Speaker, the pre-Earthfall chieftain of the Atteran tribe, is said to be marked by an ancient statue and an entrance into the earth somewhere in Barrowmoor. It seems to be detailed in Tombs of Golarion. The vampiric nobleman Volsazni Dezarr (a name that strikes me as more Varisi than Kellid) keeps a collection of light-related artifacts and holy wonders in the Castle of the Captive Sun, his ostentatiously named country home. His choice of guests is evidently also unusual, but we won’t know any details for some pages, it seems. 57 years ago (the equivalent of about 26 years culturally and only 8 to the elfs), the Order of the Scourge razed Citadel Gheisteno, headquarters of the Hellknight Order of the Crux, to the ground for betraying their founding ideals and the Measure and the Chain. All were killed. Considering that this was only 23 years or so after House Thrune (who, along with Iomedaean knights, helped the Scourge do this) won their civil war, bargaining Nidalese independence for Nidalese aid, I’m kind of surprised that we’re not told of this being a major international incident. By my math, remember, the culture should be reacting as if that civil war had ended only about a decade ago in our terms, and to any elf it would have been the equivalent only like 3 years ago! Even without that math, we can clearly see events from 1997 affecting today’s political situation. And whether the alliance with Nidal is a good thing is still a cause for instability in Nidal, anyway! Lianne throws in another call-out to her two books set in Nidal, including their protagonists’ hometown of Crosspine in the gazetteer. It’s just a small village on the southeastern border of the Uskwood known for producing lots of arcane and druidic magic-users.
The Atteran Ranches are an area of Nidal that has gotten a bit more attention than a lot of the shadow-hugged nation’s other regions. For one thing, it is set up to very easily produce the sort of good-vs.-evil conflict that appeals to a certain type of gamer, or the freedom-vs.-oppression that does the same for a different type. For another, its heady mix of cowboys, rural horror, paranoia under totalitarianism, religion, whimsy-vs.-suffering, and familial drama gives it a simply enchanting flavor. Should I ever get the urge to play a game inspired by Mercedes Lackey or any number of CW shows, the Atteran Ranches are where I would do it. The Ranches still practice many of the ancient ways of the Nidalese Kellids before Earthfall, modifying the ten-millenia-old practices to a more settled life between the Uskwood and Barrowmoor. And not just the horse-tending ways, either. We are specifically told that they continue to fight with archaic spear-using styles and practice antique funerary rites. With my immersionist tendencies, I quite appreciate that we are given the names and descriptions of not one but two breeds of horses the people of the Ranches have been husbanding and tending for all these centuries. Nidarrmars have dark hides and a reputation as fast, silent horses calm in the face of danger and easily trained, whereas the dappled grey chiardmars are quick and wild like moon shadows on the grass. Much to the edification of the urban gossips of Nidal, the Atteran Ranches do indeed harbor Desnan dissidents. Both the family which has given its name to the Ranches as a whole since time immemorial and the Blackraven family have heirs who follow the ways of the Starsong. I really like their names: Daiye and Odarac. Daiye matches the emotional feel of Nidalese culture nicely, and Odarac really feels like a Frankish name of the sort that makes sense for the Kellid ur-culture of Nidal. Daiye’s father Vaide (another good name!) is trying to cover for them by loudly and clumsily searching for non-existent Desnan agitators elsewhere. Hired Kuthite fanatics who call themselves “dream hunters” have come into the Ranches on his dime. The various clans of the region easily mislead these outsiders, taking advantage of their ignorance of the social landscape and ways. But everyone knows that this is a situation that cannot hold. Sooner or later, the secret will out and on that day, fates will be settled. I’ven’t looked at 2nd edition yet, but I believe I’ve picked up that the timeline advanced by ten years, is that so? Does anyone know if they’ve said anything yet about the situation of the Atteran Ranches, then? We are pointed to other entries in this book to help flesh out the Ranches: Barrowmoor, Ravenscry, the Uthori Steppes, and Whitemound. It seems that a different book, Tombs of Golarion, also has some relevant information, in this case about the Cairn of Attai Horse-Speaker. I appreciate the linguistics there, as Attai could very conceivably be etymologically related to Atteran. These locations feel like a mix of British naming practices (the compound names) and Mongolian linguistics. Mongolian seems like a good mix there, in terms of the ur-culture. It helps keep Kellid from being too reductively Celtic/Scythian wile still having a strong resonance with the idea of a culture of horse-nomads. Speaking of British-style names, Auginford is a small farming town with a problem. I have always appreciated how Paizo has leveraged its OGL and SRD to be unashamed of including characters mixing and matching and including information from their supplements, helping those bits of crunch actually feel integrated. The aristocratic sheriff Joeen Malsten is a hunter (from the Advanced Class guide), and has been talking with other nearby rulers to try t figure out whether Pangolais should be involved. A very sort of Lovecraftian structure was revealed outside of Auginford by a rainstorm last year, all green flecks in black stone and patterns that seem to wriggle when you look at them. Its appearance presaged an outbreak of creepy, quiet sounds haunting people’s houses at night. The town’s chickens have been laying leathery-shelled blue eggs filled not with yolks orchicks but stinking slime and the wombs of the livestock have produced strangely-shaped, long-dead offspring. Barrowmoor (mentioned, of course, in the description of the Atteran Ranches) has a quick description as a collection of charcoal cairns and tombs decorated with flint and braided horsehair. It has a very gothic feel to it, cold winds and a bleak feeling to the description of the land. I think of Scotland for some reason,or maybe i’m mistaking Robert E. Howard for Scotland in my head. The use of the term “sheriff” in the description of Auginford might give us a little more information about the governmental structure of Nidal. It comes from the term “shire reeve”, a shire being either a district in general or basically equivalent to a county. Pre-feudally speaking, a shire was originally under the rule of an earl, and consisted of a group mof what were called hundreds (each ruled by a constable). A hundred was 10 tithings, and each tithing was a hide,mdefined as an area containing enough arable land to support a single household. I just learned the term for the office, term, or jurisdiction of a sheriff cuz I looked it up, and I just love the word: “shrievalty”. It makes me giggle. Reeves were responsible historically for keeping the peace on behalf of the king in England and Wales, whereas in Scotland they were (and are) judges. As feudalism centered the idea of the manor, they also assisted the bailiffs (court functionaries), serving as the overseers of the peasants and the work they were feudally bound to perform for the lord of the manor. He also was in charge of selling the produce produced, collecting monies, and paying accounts. Perhaps intriguingly, they were often peasants chosen once a year, sometimes by appointment from the lord but just as often elected by the peasants themselves. Occasionally, that election was protected from the lord’s veto, even! What does this tell us about the Nidalese system, described by one commentator on this Let’s Read over at the Paizo forums as an all-encompassing church-state bureaucracy with no feudal admixture perhaps analogous to 1st-century Egypt or mid-20th-century Russia? (and I’ll add as a reminder that it seems to function by means of a military-academic complex.) I’m not overly sure. I like the idea of the shire-reeve being elected by the peasants, and imagining the small-story possibilities of the Umbral Court working to influence an election to get someone who suits their plans better than the alternatives into office. What U.S. citizen doesn’t like a good story of election tampering?
UnArcaneElection wrote:
Somehow, I've managed to never hear about the Augurs (Golarion is bug, y'all). I can totes imagine one in a town along Nidal's border with Varisia, enjoying an honored position as the Eternal Kiss's annual sacrifice. Actually, Kaer Maga may not be particularly close to the southern border (Korvosa is significantly closer), but this does establish that trolls join dwarves in the ranks of "we know they live near Nidal and they can take more pain than other mortal beings". Why don't we hear more about Nidalese trolls? It just makes sense that they (and dwarfs) would be respected by Kuthites.... *** Albatross is a nice, little town, all cliffs and ports isolated in the mists of Conqueror’s Bay. Imagine the stereotype of the stern yet cozy English fisherman, and that’s kind of the image I get of the Nidalese in Albatross. At the moment, when I think of that image, the primary association I have with it is the installments of Susan Cooper’s Dark is Rising series that were set in Cornwall. Imagining that series in Nidal takes my imagination many intriguing places. The people of Albatross practice a no-doubt homey version of augury, tracking the motions and activities of the town’s namesake birds. This is where the Umbral Court imprisons its agents who have done something against them but who can’t just be offed. Worse than the questionable nutrition of the town’s flavorless cuisine and the townsfolks’ barely monosyllabic conversation is the prohibition the Court has placed upon hurting the people here. No relief from one’s punishment can be found in sadism here. Albatross makes me think of nothing more than The Prisoner, that treasure of British postmodern Cold War paranoia. If I were ever to run an adventure in or passing through Albatross, I think this blend of elements ~ Dark is Rising, The Prisoner, France-by-way-of-Conan-and-Hellraiser ~ would be plenty to give it an unforgettably unique flavor. There’s a caligni druid here by the name of Alkaiva of the Uskwood. She lost a political tussle with Eloiander of Ridwan and was only saved by two of her aunts in the Umbral Court. For some reason, her white wolf is given a name that doesn’t feel very Nidalese to me at all. It doesn’t seem to mimic the linguistic conventions of any of the languages I would expect to feed into Nidalese (French, Gaelic, Scythian, maybe some English, even Greek, perhaps with French, Italian, Spanish, or Latin loanwords from Cheliax). “Xiaq” reads to me as more like . . . Inuit or Tlingit, maybe with some Chinese influence. It’s actually kind of interesting in an understated way. Famously, Golarion has often felt kind of threadbare when it came to international politics, due to the manner of its development. The many realms were treated as the personal project of the various high-level designers, with a not-insurmountable-but-still-a resistance to encroach on another’s turf. Little bits like a druid of the Uskwood having an animal companion that seems to imply some connection to the Crown of the World, a connection which might maybe have had something to do with her conflict with Eloiander, give DMs a platform to build that international diplomacy for their campaigns. I would actually absolutely adore playing a Pathfinder campaign of international diplomacy, roaming Avistan and maybe greater Golarion, too, shaping history with our words and relationships. Alkaiva is given an impressive number of adventure hooks in just 100 words or so ~ everything from her messing around with the town’s augury tradition by using her powers to train the whitr albatrosses to dance, to her having secrets that could damage Eloiander’s political position by revealing that his anti-Cheliax stance isn’t just words, to Eloiander not being okay with leaving her alive. I recently saw someone describe the Mindspin Mountains as the most Tolkienian area of Golarion. Which, I suppose, might make Nidal Mordor? Regardless, there is a small coal-mining village tucked into their foothills where two rivers converge called Ash Hollow. OK, so Nidal burns coal, evidently. Which changes some of my mental image of its culture ~ I had before imagined them more as something like Westeros or a grim version of Early Modern, Renaissance, or even medieval France and England. Large echoing rooms of castle-stone for the nobles with dramatic fireplaces fighting back any chill while providing a lovely stage for wineglass brooding. But coal shifts that image to one inspired by some years later; now I have to import some imagery of, like, 19th-century London. Of course, it makes sense that they need coal, since the land is kept in shadow. Thousands make a pilgrimage to Ash Hollow every year, however, for the Festival of Nigh’s Return, completely changing the town for that week (after all, it increases the population by multiple dozenfolds). They come to gather in the valley and on the hillsides near the mountain Aghor Thal to watch a giant, rose-shaped black iron crucible heated with a massive bonfire. It literally fills a cave mouth. Once it is good and hot at duck, the sacrifices begin and do not end until dawn. Millennia of use has awakened the cauldron as an evil idol served by a group of reclusive ascetics known as the Watchers on the Hill. The Watchers on the Hill are led by a human oracle named Baegloth, a name which shows up in chronicles written many centuries ago in the founding documents and original historical references to the cult. This has led the villagers to believe that he and the rest of the Watchers are effectively immortal, their destruction only possible by destroying the Black Rose.
James Jacobs wrote:
Do you know who might have invented them? And if that person has an AMA thread? I only ask because they're real-world words with deeper meanings. "Nidal" is Arabic for "struggle" and is in at least one Palestinian organization's name iirc (the ANO; Abu Nidal Organization, or Father of Struggle Organization), "Ridwan" is both the angel who guards the gates of Paradise and the holiday celebrating Baha'u'llah's announcement that he was a Divine Manifestation, and Nisroch is the (mistaken) name of the god King Sennacherib was worshiping when he was assassinated in the Bible and a demon in Paradise Lost who said the demons would lose because they felt pain and the angels didn't. I'm curious about the intentions and thoughts behind those choices. Partially, I admit, because Nidal is one of the Designated Enemies of the setting (despite my interest in the more complex and nuanced picture laced throughout their setting book ~ I mean, it's also a land of truly devoted and loving parents and ancient knowledge carefully preserved for ten millennia, which is twice as long or so as Earth's recorded history) and that leaves me slightly uncomfortable with the two Arabic words used in it. I do love what they say about Nidalese language, phonetics, and etymology though.
The Umbral Court, as with all groups of two or more people, has its divisions and its arguments. They work to hide them from their subjects and foreigners, hoping to build up an image of a cabal unified by their Kuthite devotion and their personal infusion with the Midnight Lord’s power. We are given two examples of their divisions: a political one concerning Nidal’s relationship with Cheliax, and a theological dispute concerning something called the Belevais Doctrine. That latter argument is one of my favoritest things in the book, by the way. Nidalese city-dwellers and graduates of the School of the Pale Sun in Elith Lorin tend to be super-excited about Nidal’s alliance with the infernalists of Cheliax. The vampire sorcerer Kholas has voiced this opinion more eloquently, louder, and more often than anyone, making him something of the face of this contingent, who wish to expand their nation’s influence across all of Golarion and to bring more and more to the revealing ways of Zon-Kuthon’s pain. However, Eloiander of Ridwan and the Uskwood druids have argued against them, pointing to the Nidalese’s special status as the chosen people of Zon-Kuthon, exalted in suffering above all the rest of Golarion. Foreigners, they say, mean little to the lord of the velstracs, and extermists (including Eloiander himself) have even gone so far as attempt to sabotage the alliance or make any Chelish in their borders’s stay unbearable. I enjoy this conflict! It feels very well-placed so that the Cheliax-Nidal alliance can present all the dangers of a unified evil alliance to those games who want such a thing, but which clever heroes like the PCs can sabotage, defeating it by means of subterfuge instead of meeting an overwhelming force head-on. It can also provide a good reason for Nidalese PCs of any alignment to join forces with a party crusading for the forces of good ~ imagine the possibilities of an evil Nidalese Kuthite PC teaming up with a bunch of Iomedaean and Milanite PCs against the devil-worshippers of Cheliax. Even if the party is composed entirely of relatively typical Nidalese, this division can generate any number of plots. The Belevais Doctrine, as I said, is one of the peaks of this book. It feels very reminiscent of actual theological debate (it would fit in with questions like the medieval European debates around things like God’s ability or inability to create a boulder He can’t move, or whether imagined things have enough reality to be considered moral patients, or whether Jesus ever shat and what that would mean about His blend of divinity and humanity), while also remaining very grounded in the reality of a pulpy fantasy setting. My main metric for such things in recent years is gem fusion from Steven Universe ~ which is clearly an allegory for romance and even sex, allowing the cartoon to comment on such things, but is also alien enough to spawn storylines of its own that would not make any sense if they were about such things. I feel like that’s the kind of allegory that Tolkien would be happy with. OK, but WTF even is the Belevais Doctrine? It is an answer, the orthodoxy of which has haunted Nidalese theologians for centuries and yet is still very much in question, to a very important question to Nidalese culture: do the undead feel pain as intensely or as loudly, as the living? Adherents of the doctrine claim that pain exists to warn the living of danger or death, and that therefore those who have nothing to fear from most sources thereof, those who are already dead, cannot feel true pain by definition. Certainly, the undead can suffer ~ no Nidalese who can lookout their window would debate that ~ but the Belevais Doctrine seeks to distinguish misery or agony from pain itself. And it is pain that Zon-Kuthon bequeaths as gift to those he blesses. Velstracs, according to the doctrine, are alone among the races of the Realms Beyond to feel true pain, either because they’ve replaced some skin with that of living mortal beings or simply through sufficient body modification in service to the Midnight Lord. Thus, its believers, believe that undead and non-velstrac outsiders are forever shut out from proper dedicated worship of Zon-Kuthon. The undead are the more politically important and contentious of the two groups, due to the large number of them within the shadowed borders of Nidal. Belevaisians argue against raising the undead above living worshippers who profess an equal amount of piety in the Kuthite hierarchy, effectively holding them to a higher standard to achieve similar rank. As one would expect, they have made few friends and many enemies amongst the undead population of Nidal. The fact that these two divisions are largely unrelated gives me intriguing ideas of rather complicated Nidalese political divisions. I’d love to explore them in a campaign someday: Belevaisian isolationists vs. undead-supporting expansionists vs. Belevaisian expansionists vs. undead-supporting isolationists. With four great poles around which to circle and (on the lower side of the scale) dozens of people in the Umbral Court, you can easily keep each faction down to a manageable but easily expandable 10-15 members. Imagine the sociocultural drawing-and-quartering you can put the PCs through, with what they think of as a single, god-given voice pulling them in four different directions!
Y'all have a total point about the rebellion being used in multiple ways by the Umbral Court to maintain their control. It's not an either/or, either ~ the best control mechanisms do so by several means simultaneously (identifying dissidents much like the RCP does in the US, providing a pressure valve, et cetera). But I was saying something slightly different. Diane di Prima said that the only war that counts is the war against the imagination. The Umbral Court (well, the Black Triune, but I imagine the Court's been around for a good long while) has ruled Nidal for *twice the length of Earth's recorded history.* Even taking into account the effects on culture of having long-lived races like dwarfs and elfs, I would argue that the culture would experience that length of time AS the length of Earth's recorded history. The Black Triune, with that much inertia alone, has probably won the war against the Nidalese imagination. And that's *without* taking into account the various things they do to spread acceptance of their rule through the populace, including what you describe. Set wrote:
That's actually pretty much exactly what I was trying to describe, though you developed it much more awesomely than I did. This is exactly the kind of thing I love about Nidal and am occasionally disappointed in people's depictions of it (occasionally even Lianne's in this book). There is no reason it has to be all "Hurr, hurr, hurr, pain is evil. What even is consent? We like bad things cuz a good life is one without pain and we hate that." Instead it can be what you describe, a harsh but ultimately helpful embracing of the painful parts of life, a call to see them as necessary. This hews much closer to my religious understanding informed by the gods I work for and with and who just are my friends and my experiences as a masochist. tl;dr ~ I would play or run that campaign in the hottest of seconds. Here's the next installment: One thing I neglected to mention in my last post is how disappointed I am that the book never explores the possibilities inherent in Kuthite Nidalese dwarfs or orcs or giants coming from the Mindspin Mountains. I imagine that anyone with the ability to drink so deep from the well of pain before being broken (read: Constitution bonus) would be greatly respected in this shadowed land! And dwarfin takes on Nidalese Kuthite praxis, in particular, are fascinating to contemplate! Sigh, another thing to add to my list of Nidalese writing projects. Anyway, the next thing we’re given is a short, one-page timeline of the past 10,000 years. I have a strange love of timelines; just before they hit the point of trying to include way too much, they can end up helping one see some of the connections between events and trends. They spawn historical hypotheses like few other tools, simply by bringing our awareness to certain things’ proximity to each other. Earthfall and the Black Triune’s meeting with Zon-Kuthon are the first two events on the timeline. Both have perhaps longer descriptions than I feel is strictly warranted. Chances are that readers of this book know what Earthfall is, and they certainly know the details about the Black Triune from elsewhere in the book. My guess is they decided to flesh it out a bit more here because timelines are the sort of thing people look at to figure out how interested they are in a setting, but it still feels a bit like filler to me. It seems to have taken three years for surviving Azlanti and Thassilonian intellectuals to make it to Nidal. This sort of thing is the kind more likely to be verisimilitudinous than it seems at first, as one thinks about how long it would take for news of Nidal’s relative prosperity to spread and then for people to make even seemingly short journeys to the realm. The Black Triune seems to have been trying to consolidate Nidalese government under their direct rule for about 18 years before they invented the Umbral Court, which was also the beginning of the Cathedral of Exquisite Agony and when their ageless immortality became known to their subjects. The Age of Darkness lasted a thousand years as Golarion’s sky shook itself clean of Azlant’s ash. As I said before, I once calculated the approximate sociohistorical multiplier for a standard D&D world, based on the relative ages of maturity of the PHB races. I might have weighted it according to the racial demographics from the DMG’s settlement rules, but I can’t remember. Anyway, it came out to about 2.2, with elfs becoming adults at literally seven times the age of humans! This means that Earthfall would have been about as distant to the average Avistani at the end of the Age of Darkness as 1565 is to us, and as distant to the average elf as 1877 is to us. Expect more of these conversions as I discuss the timeline. 8918 years ago (experienced as the equivalent of 4054 years ago to the general populace and 1274 years ago to the elfs) the holy city of Ridwan is begun with a shrine overlooking the site of the Black Triune’s bargain. That makes it maybe as old as, like Damascus or Aleppo in Syria or Byblos in Lebanon or Kirkuk in Iraq, all of which are still inhabited. Hell, in the cases of Damascus and Byblos, that might even be true from the human perspective, as those cities are around the 8-9000 year mark! Velstracs gave the Nidalese memory chains, allowing them to begin building the Cathedral of Embodied Wisdom to house them, 8521 years ago (equivalent to 3873 or 1217 years ago). Intriguingly, that’s only 491 years after the end of the Age of Darkness (or us to 1797, culturally and generally, or us to 1950 for an elf). That . . . actually feels quite right, like just about the right amount of time for the Nidalese to start becoming concerned with losing knowledge of something important. Nisroch, the main port of Nidal and the most common place to encounter foreigners by far, began 7718 years ago as a simple fishing village. That would be the cultural equivalent of about 3508 years ago, or 1102 if you’re an elf. 5718 years ago (2599 or 817), Nidal became the center of a new type of philosophy, called “physical philosophy”. It was developed by some qween by the name of Irogath of Ridwan, and was all about storing pain somatically in one’s own body so it can be then unleashed into another’s later. This philosophy becomes the main teaching of the Irogath Monastery, and I think is the only specific datum given for the intellectual history of the monk class in Avistan, which is actually kind of exciting. The monk has always been a bit of an odd fit ~ largely due to the Eurocentrism of the average D&D setting, I freely admit. With polytheism reimagined as a bunch of mini-Catholic Churches, the Taoist- and Confucianist-inspired ways of the monk were rarely given the kind of grounding they needed to make sense in the setting. I like this tiidbit, which can give us a jumping-off place to imagine the other monastic philosophies (at least until the Aganhei Pass gets going). Two entries tell the origin of the haunted place known as Edammera’s Folly (though we are not told why ~ it seems like it should be Mesandroth’s or Fiendlorn’s Folly…) An “archnecromancer” spent 25 years, starting 5141 years ago (2337 or 734 years ago) trying to achieve immprtality before the Shadow Plane consumed the base of one of his towers, flooding it with shadow creatures and causing it to be abandoned.
The section on the resistance begins with the line, “The Umbral Court does not cow everyone in Nidal.” Frankly, I don’t much imagine they need to ~ they’ve ruled in an unbroken reign for 10,00 years (culturally speaking, again, about 5000 years, the length of Earth’s written history). My assumption would be that the greatest obstacle facing the resistance against the Black Triune would be convincing the Nidalese populace that another way is even possible. Especially with the efforts put in by the Court to ensure and create Kuthite faith amongst the prosperous of their nation, the resistance would likely be recruiting from the poorer and more oppressed people of Nidal. The kind of folk who, even in a setting like Golarion with information technology significantly advanced as compared to most D&D settings, have no idea how other nations work, no other examples other than the eternal reign of the Triune, the Court, and their agents to feed their dreams of freedom. The rebellion, we are told, is mostly unorganized and composed of tiny cells or even lone wolf freedom fighters. As I supposed in the previous paragraph, dissidence is often associated with foreignness ~ contact with foreign ideas or foreign infiltrators. However, there is also an element of ancient Kellid spiritual traditions resisting the Midnight Lord’s intrusion upon their cultural territory. We were told earlier that the ancient Kellids of the region worshipped Gozreh and Desna ~ it is specifically the latter goddess of dreams and luck who feeds the ranks of the treasonous with oracles and spiritworkers (seriously, those two classes are called out in the text). The region known as the Atteran Ranches, which we will learn more about in the future, is particularly associated with this kind of resistance. Everywhere but in the Ranches, rebels keep a low profile, performing very minor acts of sedition and only then with caution. The Atteran, however, send enchanted dreams to the Nidalese people, aiming to inspire mass revolt. There is a significant element of religious magical research amongst the Atteran resisters, as well, as they hope to exorcise umbral shepherds from those they possess and to free the Umbral Court from Zon-Kuthon’s influence. The Umbral Court continues to demonstrate its deviosity when it comes to the relations it fosters with the nations around it. They purposefully keep these relationships full of distrust and fear in order to discourage their subjects from fleeing their borders and means that those who do are often killed or returned by the very lands they thought would provide them refuge. Cheliax, of course, is a bosom buddy with whom Nidal gets along famously. We are given some idea how Nidal makes its money, exporting ornate silver jewelry, brutal Ridwani blades and dark Ridwani gems, and the exotic fare offered by the Uskwood and trade with the Shadow Plane. It doesn’t sound like the Nidalese are selling to the common Chelish; their brand is high-end and expensive, and support the Chelish taste for conspicuous consumption and finery. The other thing Nidal exports, again primarily to Cheliax, are people. Workers, such as torturers, shadowcallers, experts in population control, and diplomats for the infernal empire to use in its own efforts across Avistan, Garund, and Arcadia. They also, of course, send much information back to Nidal and serve the Midnight Lord by steering Chelish decisions and policies. The Mindspin Mountains no doubt give Nirmathas and Molthune quite a bit of relief, as their existence is the primary excuse they use to avoid having much to do with their gloomy neighbor. No mention is made of the dwarfs and other races that inhabit the Mindspin Mountains, which is kind of a shame really. The standard PC-opposition races (orcs, giants, etc.) might be all-too-easy to paint with a boring brush when it comes to their interactions with the Kuthites, but there are many interesting directions a skilled author could take them. Even better, the Mindspin Mountains house dwarfs from Janderhoff ~ with their standard toughness, I can only guess what kind of thing Kuthite dwarfs could get up to, and with a rather interesting racial pantheon to begin with, there's much missed opportunity there, in my mind. Interestingly, Geb (the Garundi nation of the undead ruled by an ancient lich that’s been at war with the high-magic realm of Nex for millennia, leaving the magic-scarred faux Wild West of Alkenstar as their border) has recently reached out to Nidal. Honestly, if I’m drawing parallels with Earth cultures, this is kind of fascinating, as I often use the following rough equivalencies: Cheliax=Italy+Spain, Nidal=France, Geb/Nex=Ethiopia/Eritrea. I say this is interesting because Italy colonized Ethiopia and (I just recently heard; I’m not sure how much I believe it) played a significant role in the development of Eritrean identity. Anyway, the rumormongers suggest that the delegation has to do with learning Nidalese shadow magics for the benefit of Gebish vampires. That sounds like a fascinating thing to play with ~ either shenanigans around the negotiations (PCs on one side or the other in a very talky game of political bargaining, or rebels trying to make use of the meeting to further the cause of freedom, or in 2e especially a character who uses this as an opportunity to take character options from both cultures, or a scholarly group who has to reluctantly deal with the politicians trying to sell or prevent the sale of their research, or some other such).
I like that the book notes that the lack of showy displays of self-mortification in rural villages isn’t due to a lack of belief or even of faith, but a simple consequence of the relative poverty of village life. Without the money or magics to perform or survive the big shows of pain, the folk out here celebrate much more simply. It gives a reason other than “pain is bad, mmkay?” for a Nidalese character to be a member of a party or show up in a narrative with much less possibility of squicking out those players who might be less comfortable with Zon-Kuthon’s ways. There’s also more freedom out here from the hierarchy and dogmas of the Zon-Kuthite . . . church? Is there a church? We’re back to the question of the actual structure of religion in Golarion. Is this like a mini-Catholicism? Or is it closer to something like Judaism or Islam, where there is a monotheism but not much of a hierarchy beyond the local or the regional, and it’s all about which teachers you follow or ideas you adopt? Or is it closer to many polytheisms, wherein all the gods are worshipped all the time (although Nidal would be closer to monolatry, considering the Black Triune’s ancient deal, wherein the others would be recognized but only the Midnight Lord actually worshipped) and the priesthood*s* are a collection of religious professionals with specialties ranging from particular rituals or magicks all the way to specific spirtual practices or paths or the ways of individual deities? Anyway, without Umbral agents barring access to the necessities of life and ambition as much, country Nidalese merely act with the guidance of a local cleric. Actually, I quite like the term vicar for this role, for some reason. It is now, in my head, a Kuthite vicar. They are noted to be either a local zealot or a washout without ambition from the big city. Beyond that, there’ll be a couple of visits from Uskwood druids or shadowcallers every year to snap up youths to train in their ways (with or without consent, of course). The Umbral Court has once again done a wonderful job of populace control, in that they are known to react with overwhelming force to any hint of sedition and to masquerade their agents as travellers in order to learn of that sedition. This has led to a widespread xenophobia amongst the rural Nidalese, which of course will tend to contain and weaken the rebellious elements of Nidalese society. Considering just how long Nidalese history has lasted, this suspicion of strangers is likely almost reflexive and impossible to shake off. The clouds which choke off Nidal’s sun aid this effort, as only the efforts of the Uskwood druids keep the people fed. Of course, the Uskwood is a fraction of the territory of the nation, so I imagine that the druids send out parties on a circuit of the land to ensure that the farms can produce enough food for Nidal to remain free from unwanted control by not importing food from elsewhere. This might make an interesting campaign for a party heavy in druids, rangers, hunters, spiritworkers (the so-called “shamans”), witches, or even clerics and oracles with the right domains/mysteries. The PCs could be a group of younger druids, just out of their indoctrination and not yet stuck in their evil ways, overseen by a stern NPC elder whom they have to circumvent in order to be heroes or even antiheroes. In addition to just the general moral dilemmas presented by the situation, the hive or the mi-go (both of whom infest the Uskwood) could work as villains of the campaign. Multiclassing (or the right archetypes) with vigilante could be useful here, too. One mof my main agenda for fun is immersion, so I simply adore that we are told that wheat and rye serve as Nidal’s staple, as well as fish and gasping white fish.
The book does a lovely job of quickly reminding us that the Nidalese people cannot be reduced simply to their religion. They are people, with goals and interests and needs beyond the demanding cruelties of the Midnight Lord. In addition to his priests, the Nidalese count architects, farmers, musicians, and chirurgeons, all seeking to meet those needs and desires. This is the real start of what I love about this book, as we are given information about Nidalese family practices ~ Earthfall created such intense population pressure that it introduced widespread contraception use to keep families small. After ten millennia (likely experienced as approximately the length of Earth’s recorded history, thanks to the presence of elfs and dwarfs and other folk who live longer than humans), I assume contraception use has dwindled from almost ubiquitous down to common and accepted; similarly, I would assume that the current standard family size of two children has increased dramatically from what it once was. Given the general benefit in agrarian cultures of having more children (they mean more workers, after all), I appreciate the note that this is encouraged by the Umbral Court as a means of control. I also really love that the text specifically mentions that the Nidalese trend toward smaller families results in a widespread emphasis on fiercely loving one’s children. No doubt a large element of the Umbral Court’s manipulation of the populace, it nonetheless helps deepen the view of Nidalese culture and encourages motivations for its people beyond a simplistic desire to proselytize the ecstatic joys of pain. I would dearly love to see this worked into an adventure (or even a path) ~ great fun can be had by giving the PCs motivation to team up with people they find reprehensible because those people are trying to do something good and understandable that doesn’t negate their usual role as villains. We are again reminded that true believers are a minority among the Nidalese as they are in any religion. However, this time the paragraph does so without resorting to the image of an oppressed culture cowering under an imposed religion for a ridiculous length of time. Rather, it draws the average Nidalese more realistically. These are simple casual adherents who say their daily prayers and celebrate religious holidays, all without experiencing anything dramatic or intense. The Umbral Court has, over the millennia, filled every official military and academic position with its agents (and I would assume some are less “agent” and more “lackey”). Some answer is given as to the actual governmental structure of Nidal, as we are told that this allows them control over trade and building, providing a bottleneck on the distribution of wealth and influence. This would seem to indicate that the realm is generally ruled by its soldiers and sages, a military-academic junta. There is no nobility of the sort that tends to mark feudalism, nor are the Umbral Court’s agents function as lords. I’m still not perfectly sure how that would look, but at least I have a vague idea now. This also provides a mechanism for the continuation of the Kuthite religion in Nidal. The main path through that bottleneck seems to be costly, elaborate displays of Kuthite dedication. This is what gets the casual worshipers to undergo the extreme rites that cement their faith in the Midnight Lord. It is not dissimilar to one of the main ways that Earth cults maintain control over their followers, and one of the methods most easily scaled up to entire populations. In actual play at the table, this can be a way to give PCs the difficult decisions to make that can really drive drama, as well as provide roles for Nidalese that aren’t direct opposition for the party. In order to position themselves to do what they need/want to do (saving innocents, defeating villains, etc.), they may have to impress an agent of the Umbral Court with a Kuthite rite.
I continue to hold out hope that I'll see a fantasy version of Nahua culture that doesn't assume human sacrifice must be inherently the worst kind of evil all the time, but instead treats it with the respect it deserves as a foundational element of the religion. But that's almost certainly a pipe dream.
UnArcaneElection wrote:
Haunted mad wizard's tower that disappeared from Golarion for a while and then came back.. I'm (slowly) getting to it in my Let's Read of Nidal, Land of Shadows, if you want to know more.
UnArcaneElection wrote:
I think, much like the Tower of the Fiendlorn that returned to Nidal tainted by the Abyss, Vildeis is perfectly placed to really strike an uncanny horror in the Nidalese heart. Vildeis knows the shocking enlightenment of pain, and so resonates with the Kuthite way and should know the truth, but she did it specifically so that she would never have to see the challenging parts of the world, the difficult way of things. She did the Kuthite thing as a rejection of Kuthite ideals, especially Kuthite ideals translated through a Kellid ur-culture. When Nidalese nannies tell their children Vildeis's story, the children find it hard to sleep that night, drenched in nightmares.
Few who have read my posts are likely to be surprised at this (considering just how immersionist I can be), but/and I think Pathfinder could get clearer on what the meta-concept of "patron deity" means in-universe. Is it something like the Catholic view of patron saints, where it is someone you or related to you choose to have you focus your reverence upon (some of us just choose a patron saint cuz we like them/they're applicable to us; some of us treat our name or baptismal or confirmation name or some combination thereof as determining our patrons)? Is it closer to the Afro-Diasporic (and maybe Yoruba/Dahomey/Kikongo ~ I know less about the African versions of these religions than their Western Hemispheric descendants) idea of a lwa/orixa being "on your head"? Something that essentially everyone has but that is a choice on a part of the divine entity rather than the human practitioner? The Mesopotamian concept of a personal deity can be similar to both of the previous or some combination thereof. The Nahua/Aztec idea of the name-day can carry something similar to the Afro-Diasporic idea, in that each day is ruled by a specific teotl who can be treated as having special influence in the person's life. Or maybe it's more like a Greco-Roman mystery cult-like thing ~ do a particular (often very intense) ritual and magically forge a specific connection between you and the theos, deus, heroon, daimon, or other entity central to that ritual? In which case, someone might have several patron deities within the larger pantheon which receives their worship. Many of these come with vows and taboos that serve as analogues of the semi-mechanical idea of edicts and anathemas (though they can sometimes get more specific, such as needing to always sleep on clean, fresh, new sheets or not being able to wear a certain color or eat certain foods). Likely, the meta-concept of patron deity includes all of these. But then the question still remains ~ for thaumaturgical/theological/cosmological reasons do all of these block the whatever it is that Godless Healing represents from working? In which case there might be entire cultures prevented from taking the feat..... Or do some of these views of patron deity get past the Rahadoumi insistence on atheism/freedom from the gods?
In Nidal, Land of Shadows, it is noted that some few deities other than Zon-Kuthon and the velstrac demagogues are allowed to be worshiped in Nidal. However, no actual list is given (no doubt for a variety of reasons, including not trying to limit individual DMs' story ideas). That's kind of unsatisfying to me, however, and so I ended up writing this little-piece of in-universe writing to list out which gods I see as being allowed, and why. What do y'all think? Is my reasoning solid, in your opinion? How's my list ~ does it include everyone it should and no one it shouldn't? ************************************************ Wandering Nidal are a variety of Umbral Court agents, inquisitors, shadowcallers, and others who police the behavior of those within the realm. Many among them bear a slim book of about 80 illuminated pages, hand-lettered by means of a Nidalese pen. These pens are specially constructed to pierce the thumb and finger and channel the writer's blood to mix with a dark powder and form an ink. Within that book's slim, razored cover of rich, dull blue and gold-leaf, are recorded the following words: The Black Triune, chosen of the Midnight Lord and rulers of Nidal lo these last ten millennia, would have it known to the Umbral Court, its agents, and all Nidalese who remember whence their salvation came after Earthfall that those foreigners who dare to treat with us upon our own sacred soil have earned by their courage the right to build and maintain shrines to their lesser gods, provided that said gods present neither annoyance nor threat to our hallowed ways. In discussion with the velstracs who serve Zon-Kuthon directly in Xoviakain and with the Prince of Pain himself, your ancient chiefs have determined the following deities to make up that category. Shrines dedicated to any other divinity are to be destroyed upon their discovery, and the devotees who built or frequented such places shall be converted by torture or cruelly slain, as is the wont of you who discover them. Naturally, of course, all foreigners may consider themselves more than welcome to worship Zon-Kuthon and the velstrac demagogues who have come into alliance with him. They are able to do so without harassment or opposition whether they follow our more perfect ways or approach these divinities in the lesser ways that the other races have developed over the millennia. The undying love of our cruel master for his sister prevents us from outlawing, interfering with, or hindering the ways of Shelyn’s worshipers or clergy in any direct way. Her shrines and altars here in Nidal are sacrosanct, though oblique efforts to limit her worship and influence are encouraged of you who bear this decree. Our Chelish friends may worship Asmodeus freely, of course, as may any foreigners who likewise serve him. The Pallid Princess, also, may be honored with small shrines of the sort that adorn the kitchens of foreign taverns, and shrines to Abadar who gifted Zon-Kuthon with his home and the First Shadow may also pock the realm with impunity. The ancient deity Ydersius is halfway to understanding the Nine Truths and the deep understanding the Midnight Lord discovered Beyond Beyond; by allowing him in his throes of agony to receive foreign devotions in our land, we hope to guide him the remaining distance. Ydersius is one of several whose presence here is intended to convert even the gods to the wracking joys of our enlightenment. In memory of one of their number having granted our velstrac teachers their freedom, two of the Queens of the Night may be worshiped here, though only devotion to them performed by foreigners is allowed by our decree. We Nidalese belong to the Midnight Lord. One of these so allowed is, of course, Doloras, who played a significant role in the events that led to Nidal’s salvation by freeing the velstracs from their prison, and so may be worshiped freely in our borders. Zon-Kuthon remembers the ancient days when Ardad Lili served his beloved sister, and so she too may receive foreign prayers here. The caligni who have settled among us may feel free to worship the owb to whom they owe their devotion. Be wary, you who bear this decree, for their numbers are legion and so can provide easy cover in their permission to those who would seek to smuggle forbidden ceremonies into our realm. The archdevil Baalzebul knows well the glory of anguish. Like Ydersius, we hope that by allowing him some meager, foreigner-haunted shrines here in Zon-Kuthon’s land, he might be brought the rest of the way, and see his misery for the gift it is. Baalzebul is joined by certain of the infernal dukes who serve him and the other archdevils, as the following list delineates.
Though we do not condone the boorish ways of the undisciplined demons, we find the following few to be in line with our own, and acceptable objects of foreign devotions.
The qlippoth lord Chavazvug is well-known as a foe to demons, and we hope that by allowing him a presence here, if small, he will serve to curtail the excesses of those demons previously allowed worship in our lands. In those ancient times when we first met Zon-Kuthon, we promised the Dark Prince that we would learn his joys and attend to them. We have learned of the many types of pain, including the hurting ways that strike without need for skin to bleed. We praise the Midnight Lord, in part, by allowing the worship of some few asura ranas, some few of the grand mistakes of the gods so that Zon-Kuthon can dance in the ache of doubt beside us. But the ranas we allow are few, and limited to the following names.
Worshipers of those foul fiends known as daemons are to be carefully watched, for the oblivion they seek is a surcease to suffering. It cannot be denied, however, that Osolmyr, at least, brings blessed misery to rival that of the velstracs ~ though it may do so without success. Accordingly, worshipers of this daemonic harbinger may build shrines, but you are charged to curtail any doomful plans they may futilely attempt. Many among our subjects follow the Nine Truths, seeking to improve themselves. Thus, shrines to Irori ~ who preaches his own manner of perfection and enjoys his own painful privations ~ are permitted by us. There exist those who have conquered death, and can writhe in agony forever. We the Black Triune deign to allow one such rakshasa immortal some presence inside our borders. Caera purchased her immortality at the cost of her skin. She is as ready as Chugarra to hear the teachings of the Midnight Lord and the velstracs. The concerns of the malebranche mostly remain distant from those of our world, but some few have ways close enough to ours that they pose little to no interruption in our customs. They are listed below.
It is perhaps inevitable, given their capricious ways, that some among the fey shall prove to be palatable to the Nidalese spirit. The Lost Prince is one such, and so may be honored with small shrines here. He knows well the restless mind-writhing, and is another good candidate for conversion to the superior ways of Zon-Kuthon and the velstracs. No Kuthite seeks death, for though we may disagree about the capacity undead flesh and spirit have for blessed suffering, it is well known that death takes most well distant from pain’s brilliant touch. As a proud Kellid race, no Nidalese seeks death either, for such is a coward’s way. Nonetheless, a few of death’s servants have been found worthy to visit foreign shrines built upon our home’s soil. Those allowed are as follows:
We are much more welcoming of the ushers’ fearful brethren, the sahkils, and thus allow the following to receive worship from foreigners here.
Though it may surprise some, we the Black Triune have found some among the empyreal lords to be safe enough for foreigners to worship in Nidal. Be suspicious of them, decree-bearer, for those types of people are well-known for their lack of trustworthiness, but do not prevent their practices for those rites are allowed.
The dwarfs at our bepeaked borders may beseech but a single of their gods to carry their prayers and offerings to those for whom they were intended. That goddess is Dranngvit, for debt is its own misery. Likewise, elfs who know the Savored Sting may offer her devotion in our lands and attempt to seduce her into interceding with the other elfin gods if need be. Likewise, Vudrans who have come to treat with our Umbral Court for trade or war are allowed to erect shrines for Dhalavei alone, as the ways of the Unsuspected Rot seem closest to our ways out of all the many gods they worship. Whereas the Vudrans have their appointed divine representative, so too do the Tian, though the latter have two. General Susumu, like Alocer and Eligos, remind us simultaneously that we remain Kellid, born to the wind in our manes and the rhythm of hooves beneath us, and that we are now so much more by the grace of Zon-Kuthon himself. This pain has purchased the Tian right to worship him here. On the other hand, Làu Kiritsu reminds us of what our austerities and agonies have formed us into. Those Tian who come here must do so because they envy what we are ~ let Làu Kiritsu foment this feeling and push them to be good students of our superior culture. We have heard of the strange gods worshipped among those whom our Chelish friends have encountered in distant Arcadia. Should any of those peoples visit Nidal, let it be known that we are curious about one, supposedly named Ah Pook, and thus permit him shrines in our lands. It is said that he breaks mortal minds on the rack of their doubts and dances in the miserable shards of their life. We approve. Iblydans may bring their rumored vampire god Chinostes to our shores, should they have the courage to come here. Write down everything you may witness about this worship, however, O decree-bearer. We are as yet uncertain about this new god whom our vampiric subjects may wish to worship, and would like to learn more, We are certain those so honored by this decree as to be allowed a scattering of small altars across our lands will do as they are bid by their brave fellows who take step upon our soil. If they do not, then perhaps those dwarfs, Vudrans, Tian, Arcadians, and Iblydans should worship stronger gods. These forty-five divine beings ~ with the addition of the various owb prophets our caligni friends worship and our own teachers, Zon-Kuthon and the vestrac demagogues ~ shall be considered the only deities allowed worship wherever in Nidal our reach may stretch its fearful arm, and you who bear this decree are the weapon we wield in that hand. Should you see a foreigner in our lands worshiping any other god, or one of us worshiping any but Zon-Kuthon and the demagogues, you are hereby empowered by our word to enforce this decree by whatever means you so deem fit. Let your cruelty be loosed. As a reminder, ten of these forty-five are allowed for the express purpose that we might proselytize the lessons learned from misery to them. These such are Ydersius, Baalzebul, Deumus, Andak, Chugarra, Onamahli, Caera, the Lost Prince, Neshen, and Shemhazai. Find what ways you can to accomplish this by the indirect means available to you, using their worshippers as your tools. This has been decreed by the Black Triune, and the Umbral Court has been instructed in its reasoning and workings. It shall be so.
Oh, I'ven't yet posted the second part of my earlier ruminations on Avistani cuisine! Oops, well, here it is: The pre-Earthfall Kellids of what is now Nidal both cooked food directly on open fires using ceramic vessels, spits, and griddles, as well as by more indirect methods involving hot stones, often mounded into crescent shapes. One more advanced method used sandstone rocks (individual such rocks were used to cook like this for centuries), submerged in pits of water or buried underground to boil, steam, and bake food. Sheep, boar, cattle, goose, and poultry (pigeon and squab for the elite) formed the proteinous backbone of their diet, though red deer, swan, hare, and rabbit were hunted as well, while hazelnuts, rhubarb, and elm bark were used for accompaniment. Pork was salted and smoked, and bacon was popular; the tongue and hams were brined and dried. Whale, dolphin, and porpoise meats were all eaten salted, while carp, pike, tench, bream, and eel grown in artificial freshwater ponds were commonly consumed. The nuts also provided them with oil, after being boiled and then the oil skimmed off the surface of the water. Gooseberries, raspberries, blackberries, rose hips, tubers, and apples further complemented the Nidalese Kellid diet, which was seasoned with sweet basil, bay leaves, caraway seeds, finocchio, mint, tansy, rue, pennyroyal, hyssop, sour cherries, sour plums, marigold petals, and saffron. Though they hadn’t yet made contact with Garund and gained coffee therefrom, they did brew a similarly energizing and bracing drink from roasted bay nuts. Brined lupini beans were, and still are, commonly carried as snacks to eat while on the move. Mare’s milk is drunk and used to make cheeses far more than cow’s or ewe’s to this day, and the horse-meat dishes once consumed on religious holidays still survive as special feast-foods. The meat of a beloved fallen mount is still eaten as a funeral remembrance. Boiling in long, shallow pits lined with stone and timber was a very common cooking method. The pits were always dug near natural springs and were divided with partitions, both to avoid direct contact between stones and ingredients, and to allow multiple foods to be cooked at once. Similar pits dug into sand were used as subterranean ovens. Each pit served as the center of social gatherings, for meals were always cooked and eaten communally, amidst large complexes of monuments, stacked stone formations, and the like. A major component of modern Nidalese cuisine is the prevalence given to acids. While their Chelish allies prize the effects of capsicum and similar foods, the Nidalese prefer a cleaner, quicker pain, individual shocks whose fleeting nature calls the eater to long for their return. To this end, they have increased the acidity of the white wine vinegar they have always used to complement their cooking, and adopted the use of pomegranates and lemons from their neighbors to the South as quieter contrasts to that vinegar. Nidalese chefs also commonly use “green juice”, a highly acidic juice made by pressing unripe grapes, crab-apples, or other sour fruit, sometimes with lemon or sorrel juice and various herbs and spices, as an ingredient in sauces, as a condiment, or to deglaze. Beef is often eaten untouched by fire, cooked only by being soaked in these four acidic liquids in a dish not unlike tartare or kitfo. Even root vegetables and fruits are often vinegar-pickled in Nidal to preserve them. Since the alliance with Cheliax, some Nidalese chefs have begun to aim at a “symphony of the tongue’s wincing”, constructing complicated collections of piquancy (thought of as a background melody) and sourness (thought of as the stings of a rhythm punctuating that melody). Casseroles are common in Nidal. Another common form of food preparation is to finely cook, pound and strain mixtures into fine pastes and mushes, something believed to be beneficial to make use of nutrients. The Nidalese Kellids, much like the modern Chelish, commonly smoked foods to preserve them if they could not be eaten before spoiling. However, since Earthfall and the coming of Zon-Kuthon to Nidal, it has largely been replaced by the practice of pickling. A few recipes still current in the realm combine the two ancient methods of preservation, either pickling something that had been lightly smoked or using smoking techniques to dry out something that had been pickled. There is a flavor profile associated with the halflings of southern Nidal, in which they elevate the cheap foods they are given as slaves ~ tough cuts of meat, hard-to-cook or off-putting vegetables, offal ~ with sauces or in stews that combine the palates of all three cultures involved ~ sweet for the halfling tongue, that Chelish fiery burn, and the sharp sour of Nidalese cuisine. Thanks to the Bellflower Network’s efforts, this profile has managed to migrate to Andoran, where a wider variety of meat is available to the newly free halflings. In Andoran, they usually blunt the spice and bite of the recipe by leaning into the Andorani taste for rich foods, utilizing cream to calm the tongue. They’ve also moved towards less intense means of achieving a similar effect ~ hearty doses of black pepper instead of chilis or horseradish or mustard, and balsamic vinegar instead of sharp wine vinegars. Perhaps largely as a celebration of their liberty, Andorani halflings have also turned to the brighter flavor of honey as a sweetener, rather than the more traditional Taldan/Chelish date molasses.
Writing quickly, so I don't think I articulated very well: In the absence of an equivalent to the Treaty of Westphalia, Avistani ideas of the nation likely wouldn't include the same understandings of sovereignty we've had on Earth since the Early Modern period. In other words, there is no citizen-ship to violate, outside of feudal serfdom (which functioned like slavery: the lord OWNED the serf). I can imagine that the various philosophically rebellious nations (Galt, Andoran, etc.) have had philosophers constructing the idea of national sovereignty since they declared independence. It would be an attempt to articulate what that independence would mean in the absence of a rival lord the folk were throwing in with, and might attempt to articulate "the people" as the ultimate feudal lord or somesuch.
Let’s Reads rarely have much to say about tables of contents, and I doubt this one will really buck that trend. The credits list no names I recognize as involved in this particular book, and I’ve already mentioned the two names I found most aesthetically interesting (Liane Merciel and Kiki Moch Rizky), though I do enjoy a few bits of names scattered throughout ~ one of the Interior Artists is named Federico and another has the last name Pajaron, while one of the cartographers carries the surname Mammoliti (note to self re: the Omnipresent Inspiration Hypothesis ~ the Most Serene Republic of Mammoli, a pseudo-Italian Renaissance city-state inhabited by loxodons (is there a Pathfinder equivalent?) called the mammoliti, perhaps based on Genoa or San Marino). The rest of the credits are the standard list of Paizo’s general team. It does list the Starfinder design lead and the Starfinder Society developer, which I find somewhat surprising. I do appreciate Paizo listing as many folks as they do, down to the data entry clerk and the warehouse team. It’s nice to see the workers in the less-glamorous parts of the company getting relatively equal credit. The chapters seem pretty standard:
There’s a sizeable content note with specific trigger warnings around what is to be found within the book that will benefit from explicit consent for inclusion. It also includes a sentence driving home that a single person not wanting or having the spoons to play with these themes is a reason to do something else with your game and a pointer to a deeper discussion of consent and horror in Horror Adventures. That discussion, while excellent, sadly doesn’t provide any technologies to negotiate prior consent and monitor ongoing consent, like the system of Lines, Veils, and X and O cards so favored in the storygame scene. I really wish it did. I like how up-front this content notice is, non-apologetic but also sensitive to the realities of players’ various experiences. It does still read very “No Means No” and I prefer to come from a “Yes Means Yes” consent culture. I’m not sure how to put that well in an RPG content note, however, as saying something like “Only play this if everyone at the table is excited to play with these themes” feels a little too close to inviting edgelordiness…. Other than the standard OGL notice, there’s only the standard Pathfinder reference section, listing what are presumably the most commonly-referenced books in the text and giving them little superscript abbreviations to ease reading. Anything not on this list will be spelled out in full when being referenced. Listed are the Advanced Class, Player’s, and Race Guides (cuz duh), Bestiaries 2 through 6 (including 5, which is my favoritest), Occult Adventures (yay! I simply adore what Paizo did with the occult classes), and Ultimate Magic. This is all a very good sign for what is to come. The next page includes half of a gorgeous blue-hued two-page header image featuring a standardly gorgeous woman with interesting hair looking out over a suitably Gothic-medieval Brutalist city. There seems to be smoke floating through the air, which lends a very atmospheric obscuration to the city but also, well, obscures it a bit. Also, the city is dotted with what might be termite-hills or very large tents, conical spire things that curve out to a slightly wider base than would be expected; what are those? I am jealous of her dress, ridiculously thin as it is (some of the back flourishes appear to be painted on). I would so wear that. She has a bracelet that seems to float at some distance from her wrist ~ I’m going to interpret that as being composed of thin spiky needly things cuz worshipper of the pain god ~ and the blue tone allows the red liquid in and spilling around her wineglass to really pop. There’s nothing in the picture to resolve the question of whether it’s claret or blood, which seems just exactly the right artistic choice. As the title page for the Living in Shadow chapter, the only text here is the name and an excerpt from the “traditional Festival of Night’s Return sermon”. This is the kind of thing I just eat up; I love it. These little bits of religious microfiction can go a long way to expressing both the grand theological elements of a setting and the social history/people’s history/psychosociology of describing the nitty-gritty details of how the average fantasy-world person views the world. Two things jump out at me in this sermon, which I love. One is the sentence “Death came to hunt us, and Zon-Kuthon taught us its leash.” The Nidalese are not a people who see themselves as having escaped death, but as having gained the ability to give it orders, to turn it into their cute pet who slobbers up excitedly to greet them when they come home from work. The other is that most of the sermon prides the Nidalese people on surviving Earthfall. These are not empty-headed conquerers-for-conquest’s-sake, like the Necromongers they take so much inspiration from. Though this understanding of themselves can easily provide a pretext for seeking military domination, it is deeper and more self-possessed than that, and can easily be built upon to reach a perspective that can be considered “good” by fantasy RPG standards. It helps that the sermon reminds me of a Radical Fairy song that I’ve always assumed goes back to the 90s, when AIDS was wreaking havoc in our community (I am too young in both breath and the Radical Fairies to remember those times, but I’ve often listened to my elders who were there for it):
That is, I think, something I forgot to praise about Nidal ~ while its culture is obviously one built upon and predisposed toward evil, very little of their society and psychology is reducible to evil, allowing players to create believably Nidalese good characters without having to make them Do’Urdenites who unrealistically reject everything about the memescape which formed their understanding of the world.
UnArcaneElection wrote:
Well, the problem is one of differing geography, and therefore trade routes. On Earth, my ancestors, I think (and I've seen indications that there might be counter-evidence), got the idea of pasta from the Chinese, particularly by means of Marco Polo's expedition. While such a thing is still possible on Golarion, Cheliax seems to have less of an exploratory mercantile focus than Italy did. Moreover, the most appropriate moment for noodles to enter Avistan would have been when Amatatsu Aganhei crossed the Crown of the World in 1300 AR, though they probably wouldn't have taken hold until his maps resurfaced three millennia later (effectively, in terms of cultural processing as compared to Earth's timeline, about 1500 years, thanks to the effect of having elfs and dwarfs and the like around, who live longer, and experienced as the equivalent of only about 428 years or so to the elfs). The Path of Aganhei connects Lung Wa (pseudo-China) to the Mammoth Lords (inhabited by Kellids, so pseudo-Celtic/pseudo-Scythian) and Minkai (pseudo-Japan) to the Linnorm Kings (the Ulfen are pseudo-Norse). Since Arcadia doesn't seem to have been explored in any region resembling South America overly much (there's some Mesoamerican stuff, obviously, but that's very different, and very far), I would imagine that the potato hasn't yet crossed the ocean into Avistan, leaving noodles (probably cold, considering climate and route, so possibly resembling some Korean dishes in several ways) as the primary starch of the Kellids. So as to avoid derailing the core idea of the thread:
OK, so first, some starting assumptions for this post and the next one:
Cheliax seems very Italian often. It also appears to have been a terra nullius prior to Taldan colonization (seriously, who were the indigenous Chelish?), so I would model Chelish cuisine on medieval Italian cuisine built atop that Byzantine substrate. I doubt pasta would be much of a thing in Chelish cuisine, probably being more associated with the faux-Norse Ulfen and the northern Kellids, due to trade routes over the Crown of the World. (This also suggests the intriguing idea of noodles being present in some significant way in the pseudo-Inuit Erutaki cuisine). Tomato would be relatively new, being imported from Anchor’s End. On Earth, they and chile peppers were originally considered decorative and possibly poisonous, so it took a while for them to be incorporated into recipes. I tend to think that such a reputation would have actually sped their incorporation into Chelish cuisine, which also would have taken to eating food that brought to mind the fires of Hell. I like the idea of modern Chelish cuisine since the rise of House Thrune being very spicy, actually, to imitate the fires of Hell, so their love of the burn would likely also come from black pepper, mustard (the late-season greens can really get you!), and horseradish (all of which would have been available before the founding of Anchor’s End). This piquancy is often paired with an even heavier dosage of sulphorous flavors than they are in Italy ~ onion, garlic, and asafetida. That selfsame desire for an “Avernus of the mouth” (as one famous Chelish chef once called their preferred flavor profile) has led to smoking foods becoming the primary method of preservation over long periods of time, though brine and salt are also often used for food preservation. There are a wide variety of smoked sausages eaten throughout Cheliax, many resembling Earth salami, as are a wide variety of savory torts. Rosemary can be quite harsh when used heavily, so it’s also featured in Chelish cuisine, and I’d also emphasize finocchio (fennel) ~ but that’s just cuz I personally love it. Shellfish, fish, and poultry provide the bulk of Chelish proteins, the last especially being cultivated in every home, primarily cooked by boiling in either water or capon stock flavored with saffron. Snail are often eaten in Cheliax, as well. Perch, sardines, turbot, rudd, bass, shad, eels, and grayling are the most commonly-eaten fish. Cheliax is famous throughout Avistan for their spongy omelettes, an inheritance from Taldan cuisine. Hunted boar and wild deer, and also lamb for the wealthy, occasionally liven up the Chelish table. Poorer Chelish, on the other hand, usually slaughter a pig at the beginning of winter to give them sausages, salt pork, and lard throughout the year. These meats are often served beside cabbage, soft squash, olives, carrots, figs, grapes, oranges, and beans; spinach, almonds, and rice brought over from Taldor; and salt cod and stockfish introduced by the Nidalese. Many varieties of fermented fish sauce and fermented barley sauce deepen the umami of Chelish cuisine. Chelish black bread appears to be based on/similar to a Russian recipe, involving rye flour, apple cider vinegar, molasses, black cocoa, espresso, and finocchio seeds. Cocoa might have filtered down to Cheliax from Valenhall (it does keep better than tomatoes), but this indicates that the bread is probably a more recent innovation. I’d probably shift the vinegar to a wine vinegar, maybe balsamic, though using pomegranate vinegar might add a nice color element and help emphasize the Taldan substrate to Chelish cuisine. Speaking of, I would definitely use date molasses instead of cane molasses. There is also a strong thread of very bland, calorie-less food in Chelish cuisine, mostly used to achieve and show off an austere asceticism or as a tool for social control (to get folk to give up hope that things can be better). Combine this with the Byzantine predilection for salads, and you actually get something similar to the NXIVM diet (800 calories or less, no meat, and lots of green veggies, with the calorie limit coincidentally editing out most carbs and fats, too, leaving the dieter with almost nothing in the way of macronutrients). Wealthy Chelish probably add a good amount of raw mustard greens to their salad, however, and I can certainly see (having eaten mustard-green salads) this being a way to show off one’s toughness, with cocky youths daring each other to eat ever-larger such salads.
OK, so I kinda ended up perseverating on this topic a bit, and spent the weekend looking into various cuisines and writing up 2350 words on the cuisines of Taldor, Cheliax, and Nidal. I won't post all of that here at once, but here's the first bit, and the most appropriate to this thread. 41. Azlanti placenta cake: An ancient dish consisting of many dough layers interspersed with a mixture of capramance cheese and giant bee honey, flavored with bay leaves, baked, and then covered in more honey.
I was in high school when Peter Jackman's <i>Lord of the Rings</i> movies and I may have watched too many of the special features on those extended edition DVDs. Accordingly, I've something of an obsession with expressing deep worldbuilding (sub-creation, as Professor Tolkien might say) through the material culture and visual details of the world. Thus, my questions (I tend to ask every question like six times in different ways >.< Please bear with me): Having done so much art for Pathfinder (and being the, ahem, iconic artist for the game), have you started to develop an understanding of the history of fashion in Golarion? Do you ever build in cultural connections among the characters you draw (like, connecting them because of culture rather than for any of the strictly artistic reasons you might repeat a visual theme)? If so, what's the most surprising, in your opinion? Have you noticed any intentional or unintentional worldbuilding across your pictures? Or, maybe, have you noticed any later elements of Golarion's worldbuilding that might be traced back to a detail in one of your pieces? |
