Gears of Empire

by Isaac Stone

  In the transitional region where the desert slowly gives way to the loamy marshes and bogs, at the best-estimated midpoint between the two regions, lies the nomad city of Bet-Arda. Its core is made up of a series of permanent structures, all created from a seemingly random amalgam of materials. Most of these buildings are either the homes and shops of settlers, or warehouses that belong to one nomadic tribe or another, used to store goods and materials that cannot be easily taken with them upon their unceasing journeys through the Harrowmarsh or the more civilized territories. Around this core of permanent structures lies a sprawling and haphazard tent city. People from all over the Harrowmarsh come here periodically to trade, gossip, fight, and rest. While there are many tribes, families, and individuals who make the Harrowmarsh their territory, Bet-Arda is considered by all to be home. In the desert there is a storm season, and most of the denizens of that realm come to live in the safety and company of Bet-Arda during that most perilous of times. In the marshes too, there is a season of heavy rains, which makes the bogs swell and the more deadly marsh dwelling creatures surface. During this harsh season the bogmen, as they are called by their desert brethren, come to Bet-Arda to wait until the rains cease to be so persistent.

  Usually there is no majority of desert dwellers or bogmen in Bet-Arda at any one time, though because of their corresponding seasons, there is one time a year when the city has a majority of one group or the other. The proud and warlike tribes that wander the desert tend to be organized along familial lines, with a person’s bloodline being tied directly to whom they live with, who their enemies are, and how they make their living in the Harrowmarsh. For the most part the desert tribes are hunters and raiders, bringing down the deadly beasts that roam the desert and the wilderness that surrounds the walled cities in the south. They also occasionally plunder other tribes, fighting over hunting rights and watering holes. Most tribal warfare, when it occurs, is done between small groups of warriors, resulting in a rigid warrior culture, though because most battles are for honor or spoils, there is very little violence in the way of killing non-combatants or genocide. Rape is not uncommon amongst these tribes, though since women are raised as warriors as well, such an affront rarely goes unanswered. When in Bet-Arda the tribes usually set up large communal tents made of varying kinds of leather, then smaller individual or family tents that surround the larger one at the center. While in Bet-Arda open warfare is not allowed, and most of the tribes follow this rule, preferring instead to hold ritual combats as both feud and spectacle.

  The bogmen, as they are called, tend to build huts of stick and grass while in Bet-Arda. As they come in from the marshes they collect the sticks, grass, and mud required to build their shelters upon arrival at Bet-Arda. They do not have the luxury of dry climates to keep leather and fine fabrics in good condition, as a result of their wet and muggy environment they wear very little in the way of clothing. Most of the bog dwellers cover only the most sensitive of areas with a coarse homespun cloth, and wear boots made from bone and reed, to help keep their balance when treading on the soft ground of the marshes. What parts of their bodies that are not covered in cloth they decorate in tattoos and body paint, which also acts an insect repellent. Though they have the look of savages, they are the major producers of goods and services in the Harrowmarsh. While the desert nomads bring in beasts and materials from the cities and desert regions, the bogmen have access to wood, ore, and clay. These they use to make all of the pottery, weapons, and buildings for the people of Bet-Arda. They are not organized as familial tribes, but function more like clans, where membership to the group is more founded on loyalty and usefulness than blood heritage. They too have sporadic clan warfare, though it is much more brutal and final than the fighting in the desert. Entire clans are wiped out, disappearing into the water and muck of the marshes even as their spoils are divided amongst their enemies. Dueling while in Bet-Arda is also uncommon for the bogmen, though they do participate on occasion.

  One of the core buildings is a massive longhouse, reminiscent of a great hall, with a throne room and meeting chamber. Inside this building of alluring green stone dwells Lunatic Eight, the steward of Bet-Arda. Lunatic Eight is thought to be a creation of Wormwood’s light. It cannot be called a he, or a she, but can only be that it is. Its physical form is that of seven red-robed humanoids of roughly the same size, their faces hidden under their red hoods. When Lunatic Eight speaks it is in chorus, each body speaking in union with the others, though often only one will speak, then another picking up mid-sentence where the first began, and doing so until all speak at once, then back again. Some believe that Lunatic Eight is a mutant race unto itself, though most simply accept that it is some vastly powerful victim or victims of the stigmata. While it does not seem to have any magical powers to speak of, its threats come to pass, its warnings are heeded without question, and its advice always holds true. It is not known if Lunatic Eight casts spells, is a mind bender, or if it is simply a god enfleshed, though it will at once deny and confirm all of these suspicions if pressed, which it rarely is.

  No living person in Bet-Arda, or the Harrowmarsh for that matter, can recall a time when Lunatic Eight did not haunt the halls of that ancient place. It decreed long ago to the tribal chiefs and clan leaders that this place was to be called Bet-Arda, and that it was to be a gathering point for the people of the Harrowmarsh. It commanded that no walls be built and no wards be cast, so that the light of the Wormwood star could shine upon them. For reasons long forgotten these elders agreed to heed Lunatic Eight’s words, and pledged that their descendants would do the same. So to this day the settlement of Bet-Arda exists under the mutagenic light of Wormwood without protection. The mutant races are welcome without reservation in Bet-Arda, and those people who have or develop the stigmata are not shunned, but welcomed as brothers and sisters. Because of this policy of acceptance there are newcomers from outside the Harrowmarsh who come to live in Bet-Arda, though most of the mutant beings and bearers of stigmata in the city are from a desert tribe or marsh clan, as the Harrowmarsh is still an inhospitable place and most outsiders avoid it regardless of its tolerance. It should also be noted that as a result of their lives outside the protective city walls and lack of fear concerning acquiring the stigmata, occasionally sizable shipments of slyphstone make their way onto the trains returning to Uroborous, where they are subsequently sent to the refineries on Relish.

  Relish

  Off the coast of Uroborous there is a blighted island of steam and steel, the machine city of Relish. Little remains of the original coastlines of this island, long ago the industry of the new age broke the boundaries of sand and surf and jutted out into the sea. The skyline where once was clear sky is a myriad of industrial smokestacks, steam vents, scaffolding, and load bearing cranes. From the ground up and deep below the island city of Relish is one gigantic industrial complex, refinery, and mining complex. The island is covered with refineries, factories, boiler facilities, and deep core mining shafts. Every street is a maze of gangplanks, winding stairs, cables, and glass. A great lumbering beast of industry and technology, where even the living population exists merely as a cog in the wheel of this ever-churning construct.

  Shortly after the founding of Uroborous upon the ruins of the old city, the Conductors built a rail line to a pristine island off the coast that was, to their knowledge, previously unspoiled. While it was covered with the marks of the Green Age, beasts and mutants, the land itself was rich in natural resources. Soon the Bureaucracy pushed to establish a labor colony on the island, exporting criminals to the island and using press gangs to coerce the locals into labor. In the years that followed the initial assessment by the Conductors was correct, and deposits of the mysterious slyphstone were found in as yet unimagined quantities, in addition to the vast amounts of lumber and coal available for the taking. Soon coalmines were tunneled into the bedrock and lumber mills chewed away at the forests. The Bureaucracy cut a deal with the Lychking of Mar-Keth in order for an
increased clockwork zombie labor force to work alongside the criminals, locals, and their subsequent descendants.

  Soon the mutagenic properties of slyphstone began to tell amongst the living population as it was realized that even when working in a warded mine, the mark of Wormwood was upon the stone itself, and not just the open-air veins of the substance sometimes found by travelers in the wastelands. With the help of the enigmatic Conductors, a group of engineers from Relish were able to create a device that would allow them to use clockwork zombies to mine the slyphstone without any living being suffering from the mutagenic properties of the stone. Using a pscionic amplifier helm, a gift from the Conductors, that had been tuned to the frequency of the individual wearer, the user of the helmet could control a clockwork zombie. The wearer would enter a deep trance, then through an insulated hollow tube filled with slyphstone and warded from the outside to prevent mutagenic leakage, the wearer would transmit thoughts and commands to a single clockwork zombie who had the other end of the cable driven deep into the back of their head. In this way the wearer could use the body of the clockwork zombie to venture deep into the slyphstone mines to extract the stone without being exposed to the power of the substance. Attempts to build these helmets without the original pscionic adapters provided by the Conductors have all failed, there is at this point an element of the technology that only the Conductors have the secret of creating, thus ensuring their continued business relationship with the slyph-miners of Relish.

  Just as this technology was perfected the people of Relish shut their island complex down in defiance of the heavy taxation, unrealistic productions quotas, low wages, and cruel treatment of the populace. The Bureaucracy of Uroborous still viewed the island city of Relish as a penal labor colony and was taken by surprise at the sudden uprising. Until that point the Conductors had always been neutral in any conflicts, political or economic, yet uncharacteristically allowed the capture of the train station servicing Relish. The Conductors did not take sides, but their neglect to recapture the station showed the Bureaucracy which side the trainmen were on, no doubt wishing to ensure a steady supply of slyphstone and coal. What could have been one of the bloodiest revolts in recent history was resolved without a single shot being fired. The Bureaucracy, not wanting to endanger their relationship with the Conductors, so dependent were they on the rail system, that they entered negotiations with the Relish leadership.

  Less than a week later what was called the Relish Resolution went into effect. The city of Relish was granted autonomy from the commonwealth of Uroborous, and gained its political and economic freedom. The rail lines were immediately reopened, and the coal, lumber, and precious slyphstone began to flow again. Once free of the taxation and regulations from Uroborous, the island of Relish began to grow exponentially. The forests were built over, the mines dug deeper, and the clockwork zombies plumed even greater depths in search of the city’s cash crop.

  At present, Relish is not only the region’s most prominent producer of coal and slyphstone, it acts as the industrial hub for much of the area’s needs. The Lychking trades building materials from his brick pits and zombies in exchange for slyphstone, steel, and machine parts. The Zel Triumvirate, though they are always trying to re-negotiate their trade agreements, are major importers of steel and industrial materials, while they export lumber and raw ore into Relish. While the people of Bet-Arda do not usually import many goods from the machine city other than the occasional chisel lock, they do export shipments of raw slyphstone, metal ore, and lumber to the city. Uroborous, in its own chaotic self-serving fashion, exports to Relish raw materials and perishable goods, only to buy back the raw materials in a useable form. While the government is nominally democratic, the labor unions serve to make the daily running of the city less focused on the choices of the population, but more the needs of the military-industrial complex that is Relish itself.

  Newcomers are welcome to enter the city as new workers and skilled craftsmen, though casual tourism is not allowed. The entire city is a latticework of security checkpoints, restricted areas, and industrial danger zones. While the government of the city will not admit to it, there is a large vagrant population in the city. Entire levels of the city are defunct and full of these homeless groups. In this tangled web of industry and innovation are abandoned warehouses, broken down factories, and winding sublevels of boiler machines and cold furnaces, all are the secret dwellings of the city’s lost souls.

  Relish is the throne of technology, though it is a tenuous relationship the city holds with the outside world. It is reliant upon Uroborous for its supply of food and perishable goods. It is beholden to Mar-Keth for its concrete, brick, and undead labor force. It is dependent upon the metal ore and lumber of the Zel Triumvirate. Without the good graces of the Conductors not only would safe slyphstone production cease, but the rail network that feeds the hungry machine city would grind to a halt. The city is both coveted and despised by all but the least ambitious of the world.

  Blackwater Station The enigmatic Conductors have a fortress train station that lies just off the coast of Uroborous called Blackwater Station. Given that no one has ever seen a Conductor sleep or maintain a residence anywhere, most assume that Blackwater Station is where they do such activities. The station itself is shaped like a wicked spire, jutting out of the surf like a beached sea urchin. There is one rail line that connects the station to the Torque in Uroborous, and while it is only one line, there is constant train traffic back and forth along its length. All trains in need of repair are taken into the depths of Blackwater where they are built and re-built, far from the prying eyes of the world.

  While the station itself is not particularly fortified beyond the standard modifications that protect it from foul weather, choppy seas, and the Wormwood Star, it is in no danger of invasion. The rail system erected and maintained by the trainmen is the only known means of transportation from city to city that is protected from the harmful light of Wormwood. Though the technology is closely guarded, the Conductors allow anyone who can pay to use the trains for passage or cargo. They do not ask questions about who a passenger is or what cargo they are shipping, just so long as the price is paid and the destination clearly stated. When a person wishes, for example, to travel from Relish to the Zel Triumvirate, they must first go to the station on Relish. There they tell the Conductor operating the ticket booth their destination, and they are handed a necklace. The necklace is a metal chain that always fits, and from it dangles a blank metal tablet. When the train comes the passenger boards the train without being greeted, the doors simply open for anyone. The passengers are free to take their seat wherever they choose, and there always seem to be enough seats no matter how many people or how much cargo is being shipped. As the train pulls out of the station a Conductor walks down the isles, a small green light shines from its eyes as it casually gazes at each passenger as it walks briskly by. Nobody tries to board the train without a tablet, because nobody who ever got on without one ever got off again, it just isn’t done. Conductors do not always put a stop to violence on board the trains, so the safety of the passengers is generally up to themselves, though sometimes if the violence escalates beyond a quick brawl a Conductor with a wand or chisel lock in hand will appear. When the destination is reached the passengers simply leave their tablet hanging on a hook in front of their seat and leave as they came.

  As a result of their vital function in civilization and their elusive though potent power, the Conductors are generally left alone while on their machines. That is not to say that a Conductor is safe when not riding the rails but instead walking the streets, when not on board their trains Conductors are fair game just like everyone else, and they know it. While the Conductors as a group tend to keep to themselves, individual Conductors are known to be members of society at large, and can be contacted and befriended, though they are enigmatic at best, alien and aloof at worst. They are able to speak most languages, though tend to communicate amongst themselves with pscion
ics.

  The Conductors do not publicly induct new members into their society, though a person of sufficient diligence and ability can convince, over time, a Conductor to take them on as an apprentice. During this apprenticeship, which takes place at Blackwater Station, the novice is schooled and tested in the art of train making, rainmaking, and the physical methods of creating and maintaining the railroad technology. As they train they serve as the manual labor force of the Conductor’s organization, fabricating new parts and equipment for the trains and rail system. Those who do not show sufficient aptitude for magic, technology, and pscionics spend the rest of their lives as apprentices in the confines of Blackwater Station, as they have learned too much of the secret craft to be allowed to leave. That is not to say that they weren’t warned of this before becoming apprentices, this is a possibility that they agreed to live with or be terminated if they couldn’t. Those with the talent and ability are promoted to Engineer and move to the next stage in their training. They are taught how to fuse their technical knowledge with magic and pscionics. They learn how to pilot the trains, maintain the wards that protect them from Wormwood’s light, and are taught the spells and mind-bending skills that separate the Conductors from mere dabblers in the magical arts.

  Once the Engineer is ready to become initiated into the company of the Conductors, he or she must pass the test of the Cicatrix. The Cicatrix is a helmet that is the symbol of the Conductors and their railways. Each Conductor looks the same, save for small variations in lower facial features, horn length and shape, and tastes in clothing. Conductors are usually between five and six feet tall, though some rare ones are upwards of seven feet. They have a very pale gray skin that tends to be rough and leathery to the touch, their hands are often elongated and tipped with small claws, making them appear somewhat monstrous. This fearsome appearance is intensified by the Cicatrix, which is a faceplate that covers the cheekbones, eyes, and rest of the head, leaving the saw-toothed lower jaw and slit-like nose exposed. The helm usually is gilded with a variety of precious metals, and over the eyes several interchangeable crystal monocles of various colors and thickness. The helmet does not extend to the back of the head, from which two to three horns protrude, the length, color, and style of horn varies from Conductor to Conductor. When an Engineer, regardless of race, places the helm upon their head, they immediately and painfully transform into a physical shape similar to the other Conductors. If they survive this horrible transformation, they are given the honorary title of Kelkis, which is added to their first name, and welcomed into the ranks of the Conductors. The bodies of those who do not survive are burned in the furnaces deep in the bowels of Blackwater Station.