Rebonack
2010-04-02, 07:17 PM
Current events:
-A massive Shadowland has appeared Outside the City walls. Traveling at night near it is not encouraged.
-A outburst of ghouls was put down by combined Empire and PCs forces recently. Undead activity has been on the rise.
Rules and locations in the spoiler. Please Spoiler any fan service written in this thread. Thank you.
All standard forum rules apply here, as do the godmodding rules generally agreed upon on this sub-forum.
This thread is for urban shenanigans as Outside is for wilderness shenanigans. It's generally a good idea to mark your PC's location with a [Location] tag at the top of your post so that other players using the thread will know where you are.
This thread is open for use by everyone. Feel free to make up locations within or even man a booth at the open market place. Please be respectful of other people's locations and refrain from blowing them up with an orbital laser strike or something.
There are NPCs all over the place, being a city and all. They are free to be used, abused, blown up, or turned into brain-hungry undead at your desecration. Please be responsible with your NPC use and clean up after you're done.
Above all else, be nice and have fun. That's the point of FFRP after all.
About the various 'Zones'. The Blue zone is near the center of the city. Yellow is the area near the city walls. Null is the area between. Red is the area within the Crime Infested Slums.
An Important Note Since it Keeps Coming Up
Inside is part of BOTH Acro AND Town. Inside is a city situated right in the middle of The Nexus, a crossroads between all possible worlds, realities, universes, and ice cream flavors. You can get TO Inside from just about anywhere and to just about anywhere FROM Inside.
ACRO and Town are just two of many worlds that touch The Nexus, and thus Inside. Posters from all FFRP settings are welcome here.
Locations
Market Streets (Main Street all the way through the city)
If you wan to man a booth here with a PC or a named NPC just drop me a PM and a description and I'll add it.
Buying Stuff
Normal, run of the mill things like cheese and lumber and horses can be purchased with previous metals. But if you want rare or magical objects a heap of gold just isn't going to cut it. You'll either need to barter with other magical objects or pay with enchanting reagents. Enchanting reagents are special substances that can't be magically poofed into existence and happen to be important in the creation of enchanted objects, casting of spells, and other such magicy things.
Enchanting reagents can be just about anything, ranging from special metals (mithril, orahalcum, adamantine), distillations of alignments (good, evil, law, chaos, funky, square), pure elements, souls or even essences of an abstract concept (nature, hope, malice, pineappleness). Feel free to use your imagination. But keep in mind that enchanting reagents are something that should be collected IC rather than something you assume you have.
Booths and NPCs
Steve the Smoothie Sultan: portly little man with a snazzy turban, he owns a slushy cart that he pushes around Inside
Vincent the Cheesemaker: a young, dashing looking man who looks like he would rather be swashbuckling. He owns a booth that sells cheese. Go figure.
Tex the Scholar: Own a yurt near the fountain in the city square. Collects, copies, and sells rare books and scrolls. Occasionally gives out quests to acquire new books for him.
Ivan's Inchanted Imports: A balding man with a pet squirrel and a terrible Italian accent, Ivan deals in enchanted objects. He doesn't accept precious metals, though he will take trades and enchanting reagents.
Twoflower the Druid: A seller of herbs, mushrooms, and other products of the forest, Twoflower is your standard tree hugging wild-shaping hippie. Really don't like aberrations.
Jernaldo the Baker: The portly man wears a white apron and a chef hat that seems to stretch off out of sight. One of those thin mustaches, too. He's a bit crazy, but sells the best pastries and trail rations around.
As soon as one passes through the city gates the previously serene sense of wonderment at the distant, lofty mountains and flashing sea is replaced with urban bustle. Carts rattle over flagstones, jostling goods and rider alike as children dart through the streets deeply engaged in a game of Adventurer. Horses and cattle clop down the streets, being led to auction yards or stables or open field or adventure. Merchants and shoppers alike meander through the streets on important and unspoken business while in the distance a clear bell chimes, summoning devotees to the Sanctuary Fortress for worship.
And the booths. Booths everywhere
Booths nestled all along the wide main road house both wares and those selling them, each of which is calling to each passerby, extolling the quality and rarity of his or her goods. Some haggle over prices while other exchange coins.
Clothing and exotic fabrics. Masterful weapons and armor. Pungent smelling spices from the far west. Fruits, grains, and vegetables local and from afar. Jewels in which dance the light of the stars. Scrolls upon which are scribed elder secretes and mysteries forgotten by time (if the owner of the booth is to be believed). Maps promising certain riches to those who follow them.
If it can be desired by the hearts of mortals and paid for with gold, then one’s chance of finding it in the Market Streets is rather sound.
Barkhouse Bestiary (Null Zone)
Odd that the building had seemed to simply spring up overnight. Even stranger is the fact that is has somehow managed to grow over at ACROville as well. Things like that happen all the time in Nexus though, so perhaps not. Or... perhaps so...
You see, when a building pops up over night in Nexus it is usually not there one moment and then there the next. Those who happened to be wandering about during the wee hours of the morning swear that they saw this odd structure growing out of the ground. Like a malformed tree maturing far faster than any tree has any business maturing. And like a tree the roof of the building sports a canopy of branches and leaves which several local birds have already taken up residence in.
The leaves are thick and broad, the bark a curious brick red color and as smooth as a paint finish. Said bark is peeling in several places, revealing younger mottled green bark below. Rather reminiscent of a madrone, really.
Despite the fact that the building is quite clearly a tree it is also quite clearly a building. A tree that has grown into a rather unnatural shape. Above the front door one will find a sign of bright yellow barkless wood which reads:
Off to the side is what one would assume to be a carved wolf of the same wood baying at the sign. Because tree puns are funny.
One will find that the door opens quit effortlessly into the roomy interior of the tree-house. Perhaps the first thing that might strike one as odd is how well lit it is inside, due both to window pains of transparent plant membranes as well as bioluminescent globes hanging from the ceiling. The whole building feels somewhat humid, though the temperature is quite comfortable for your average humanoid.
Also hanging here and there are wooden cages. More akin to old fashioned song-bird cages that the ugly boxish wire mesh variety. Some of the cages are empty. Others contain various animals, both fuzzy and not, which watch passersby with curious eyes.
Like the cages, in truth like the building as a whole, there really don't seem to be any corners to speak of. Only smooth organic curves in this place. Which makes the counter in the main room stand out a fair bit. But only because of its planed surface. It's certainly by no means square. Or even rectangular. Rather it curves and meanders around a fair bit in a very haphazard way.
Behind the counter is a perch. And on the perch is a rather odd bird painted with earth tones and a fair bit of blue. Should a customer have a message for the owner while he's out it will be more than happy to remember it for you. And if he happens to be in another room the bird will probably squawk until it gets his attention.
From the main room one will find three doors branching off to other chambers, all with similar furnishings and décor as the first. One seems to be packed with various supplies for the proper care of curious critters. Food and bedding and cages and the like. To the right one will find more varied critters as in the first main room, though the temperature here is a little warmer and the lighting slightly more dark. Also of note are a series of raised ponds which contain a plethora of colorful fish.
Yes. Even trout.
The final room is fairly large and packed to the gills with all fashion of truly bizarre plants. Many of which seem to be growing what could be assumed to be... equipment. Rope. Individual pieces of armor, pauldrons and bracers mostly. Pendants. And other less identifiable things. At one wall of the chamber is another pond with a smallish waterfall running out above it. And basking on a rock at the edge of the pond is a three foot long salamander. The amphibian, not the elemental. Near it is a sign which reads:
On the second floor of the tree house is Avatar's workshop and personal quarters, though the means by which this portion of the building is accessed isn't immediately clear. The quarters are rather plain and Spartan. The workshop seems cluttered with notes and cages, though there is some semblance of method to the madness.
In all a rather strange place, no doubt. A strange place that sells custom magical beasts and living wondrous items. How very curious indeed. What an item that won't get fried by disjunction? Need a fire breathing guinea pig? Have you always thought that it would be useful to be resistant to petrifaction? Do you need some exploding seed pods? Then, fine customer, you have come to the right place! The proprietor even takes custom orders, though expect that such creatures will take a day or two to complete. After all, it isn't easy to build a living thing from the ground up.
So come in! Look around! Have your lycanthropy repressed and buy a monkey of healing to sit on your head!
Erin's Emporium (Yellow Zone)
Construction Gnomes have been hard at work renovating a small store along one of the various merchantile roads. Well, it was small. Now it's bigger on the inside.
And filled with every sort of weaponry imaginable, from across the multiverse. From blaster carbines to P-90s, surface-to-air missiles to ballistas, zats to nunchucks, they're all here.
Is that a siege crossbow sitting in the corner?
The Scrivener (L/P)
Just inside the front door are rows of bookshelves, featuring many a book, tome, and article filled with useful information. At first one would assume that this is just a bookstore, but, as the clerk behind the counter will cheerfully inform you, The Scrivener specializes in obtaining and researching information for a fee as well. On the second floor is Douglas' office, where one can hire him as a private investigator.
House of Oddities (L/P)
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
This man approaches an empty lot. Walking over, the man kneels down, setting his briefcase next to him. Opening it up, he leans far in, almost to the waist, before drawing himself back out again, holding a beaker of water in one hand and what appears to be a small model house in the other. Closing the briefcase, the Squeaky Shoes Man maneuvers to the center of the lot.
Placing the model down, he pours the water on it and then dashs back to his briefcase quickly. The model grows, slowly at first, then faster until soon, there stands a single story house. The paint was a hideous cat-puke green and peeling. Rust lined the porch railings and shutters were hanging on their sides. The windows were covered in dirt and dust. The man smiled and picked up his briefcase. Moving quickly to his new abode, the wooden steps gave a strained groan under his weight, but held. The door swings open with a screech and the man steps inside.
Some time later, the man comes out with a hammer and a wooden sign. Staking it in front of the house, somehow pushing it into pavement, the man nods, seemingly proud of his work and goes back inside. The sign reads as follows:
Those who walk up the ominously groaning steps and enter the shop/house will be greeted by an incredibly dusty room. Cobwebs lie all along the walls. Floorboards creak precariously. There even seems to be a hole or two in the floor. This place certainly seems unfit to live. To the right and towards the back of the room is another door that must lead further into the house.
In the middle of the room is a card table with one leg shorter than the others creating that annoying, impossible to remove, wobble. Sitting in a cheap folding metal chair facing the doorway is the Squeaky Shoes man. On top of the table is the briefcase.
Welcome to the House of Oddities. What is your flavor today?
Hestia Cyanide's Potions and Poisons (L/P)
The rumbling of cartwheels and the clippetty-clop of carthorses comes to a halt as the quaint little wagon comes to a halt in the empty lot. And I do mean quaint. About the size of a small room, the wagon seems comically tiny compared to the large twin carthorses that pull it, appearing too small for someone to live in, let alone hold a shop in. At least, until it expands. The wagon seems almost to explode as it enlarges, rooms and walls and chimneys and roofs popping and appearing until the wagon resembles a small, double-story, brightly painted cottage on wheels. The house sinks to the ground, wainscots lowering lowering to hide the wheels from view, until steps pop out from the bottom of the front door, coming to the floor, and a stable pops out from the side. A large creature, perhaps a troll, or maybe an ogre or a morlock or a bugbear, comes out the front door, herds the two carthorses into the stables (which, curiously, hold room for four), then returns inside, but not before hanging up a wooden sign proclaiming
Hestia Cyanide's
Potions and Poisons
in large white letters.
The inside of the shop is smoky and warm, with a sitting room at the front, consisting of a variety of mismatched comfy chairs arranged around a low-slung table, and a 'kitchen', if it can be called that, at the back, a chaotic arrangement of shelving containing a perplexing multitude of jars, vials and bottles, all facing inwards towards a giant cauldron (and a small stepladder, for Hestia is of the small sort).
The upstairs part of the store is out of bounds, for it is where Hestia lives and sleeps, when she is not at PEACE.
Shrine to Sart'Ran (Blue Zone)
Out in the main street, a stand is unfurling. It's quite an impressive stand. Out the front there's much black and white fabric hanging from beams, giving a very welcoming feel to the whole thing. There's no front counter, but rather an entrance to the tent in the back with several healing tools set on racks on the wall.
Out the front of this store is a kindly cleric. At first glance one may be fooled into thinking that he's old, but however they'd soon realise that it's actually quite a young cleric, although they may feel reassured by his robes, those of an experienced cleric.
His face is quite handsome, and his face is very kind, although at the moment there's a troubled look on his brow. Nevertheless, he'll greet any visitors with a happy smile, before leading them inside the tent.
Club 30's (Red Zone)
The club is presently in an uncertain state between leveled and not leveled.
A posh nightclub run by Jack, one of the area's businessmen. Ladies and gentlemen from all walks of life meet and mingle here, so long as they follow the formal dress code. The interior is set up in 50's modern-jazz style. There is a private VIP area for business dealings or couples who want to be away from prying eyes, a bar, and a raised stage. Live music is played nightly, currently fronted by Jack's girlfriend Layla, a pretty blonde elven girl.
Ghostbusters' Firehouse (L/P)
In the area of town called Kingsville, after the devastation caused by the White King to it, a old building, that was once a firehouse stands.
On the outside a sign sits above the large doors depicting a concerned looking ghost in the middle of a red-hashed 'no' symbol.
This is the Ghostbusters' Inside station, similar to the headquarters in New York, but with a few minor differences.
Only one ghostbuster is available here. But he's ready to take on any ghost-related problems at almost any time.
The Black Label (Yellow Zone)
In a room adjacent to Erin's Emporium, a new business has opened.
The store is lined with parts. Frames, slides, stocks, bolts, sights, scopes, barrels, hammers, grips, and various internal mechanisms are on shelves, in display cases, and laid out on tables. Other racks and cases hold complete firearms of every description and sort.
There are also stands and mock up of gun fighting rigs, body armor, and systems resembling the Land Warrior and Future Force Warrior programs.
In the back, you can see machinery of a varied sort. Lathes, drills, work benches with a variety of tools. This place has everything you need to create the perfect weapon for yourself, provided that you use guns.
That includes the gunsmith, Grigori Vanek, better known as Greg, sitting at his counter with his legs propped up, smoking a cigarette.
Signs out front and inside say:
The Misspelled Cemetary (Null Zone)
It's the rain that makes for the perfect atmosphere.
Since the party left the well lit cobbles lanes of the Market Streets the sky has opened up upon our intrepid band of adventurers with a vengeance. The wind howls through barren trees as the rain descends in sheets. The heavens are split by a ribbon of lightning and a roar of thunder.
A massive cast iron gate surrounds this place of once hallowed ground. Yes, hallowed once but no longer. The earth appears dead. Rotten. A phosphorescent green fog creeping along the ground. Misshapen fungus and molds clinging to crumbling monuments. Corpses exposed on the surface, half-eaten with decay.
The gate creeks open of its own accord as the party nears.
And above the gate, in rusted iron letters, reads:
MagMart (Blue Zone)
An absurd mash-up of K-Mart, Wall-Mart, Target, and every other vile retail chain, MagMart is staffed by an unswervingly loyal Magbots, lobotomized talking cats that are too brain-dead to know any better, several voodoo spirits, and a pickle jar that everyone insists is a sentient being that only communes with those who truly believe in it.
Here you can find everything from curtains to carpets, macaroni to monkeys on motorcycles, groceries to zombies. The staff is always happy to help (or else), and if you aren't entirely satisfied with your shopping experience, you can pay a small fee to watch the MagMart employee of your choosing get fired out the MagMart complimentary employee morale cannon.
Pontius' Custom Constructs (Null Zone)
The caravan of 6 wagons (I never said 3! Well, I did, but still.) arrives at a warehouse, previously for sale. The gnomes lead the golems and other constructs inside, and get to work. The warehouse has an open yard at the main entrance, and several golems, like crude figures of worked stone or wood, stand in the yard. A gnome wearing an apron over smart-yet-practical artesan's clothes and puts a sign up.
Pontius's Custom Constructs
Golems of Any Material* at Unbelievably Low Prices!!!**
You Won't Find a Golem, Gargoyle, Guardian or Homonculus Cheaper!!***
Come Now and Buy 1 Get 1 Full Price!!!****
*Flesh has an additional charge. **Define 'low'. ***Except at our competitors. ****Terms and conditions apply.
Sanctuary Fortress of Zoemaytare (Blue Zone)
Like so many other prominent buildings in Town, or not so prominent buildings for that matter, this place seemed to pop up out of nowhere over night.
Buildings are like mushrooms in Town. Probably spread via spores, too.
Regardless, here it is. A rather sizable campus marble hewn from the mountains some distance away. Carved and hauled here near the edge of the slums where they were no doubt assembled. Though... no one can quite place a finger on when this happened.
Though the buildings aren't of only cold hard stone, no. There are timbers as well. Not what one might expect, however. They seem almost organic. As though they had grown into place rather than being hewn.
Oddness aside, the temple is arranged in a rather interesting fashion. Several concentric wall and courtyards ending in a central temple.
The outer wall is lower than the rest, each tier of the temple built onto higher ground like a wedding cake. Each wall is topped with a roof supported on the inside by pillars, creating a sheltered walkway. The exact use of these porches depends on the section of the temple one happens to be in.
Anyone is allowed entry through the first wall and into the first court, the Court of Meeting. Beyond the second wall only worshipers of Zoemaytare are allowed admittance to the second court, the Court of the Blessed. Beyond the third wall only the priests are allowed, where they carry out holy rituals within the temple itself.
The Court of Meeting is dedicated to service of those the worshipers of Zoemaytare dwell among. Food is prepared for the hungry here and given out without expectation of recompense. Those without a place to lay their head are allowed to sleep within the porch. The grounds beyond the porch are devoted to a wondrous garden boasting vibrancy and spectacular color. This are is always comfortably warm and brimming with life. Wounds heal faster as the body is refreshed. Undead creatures will find that remaining here is decidedly uncomfortable.
The sky above the temple seems to be perpetually clear, filled with pleasant sunlight in the day and cloaked with gossamer stars at night. Benches are set up here and there, under trees with hanging branches and above fragrant shrubbery. A lively stream flows endlessly in a circuit about the Court, spilling into several larger pools and meandering up a small outcrop of stone before cascading back down the other side.
This section of the temple is tended by members of the faith. Not priests, though devote. They can be found tending the garden and serving warm food. When in service to the temple these devotees wear a white linen ephod bearing the symbol of a willow tree, ornately rendered in blue thread. They'll be more than happen to answer any questions. Priests tend to have stricter ceremonial garb, including a blue tunic and white robe in addition to the ephod.
Welcome, traveler. May you be more blessed when you leave than when you came.
New information that isn't readily noticeable at first glance at the temple will be added here.
The temple grounds are protected by a dampening field that blocks unauthorized teleporation and dimensional shifting. The place is something of a fortress after all. Being able to pop in and out at will would defeat the purpose.
Zoemaytare isn't a god of (fill in the black) but rather the patron and protector of her people. As such, her domain, if she even has one, is over all that her people do. The people in question are collectively known as the Zoeos, and this particular temple is their first major venture into Town. At present their stated goal is to set up trade relations and aid the city. This is ministered through the temple on account of the Zoeos government being a theocracy.
It just so happens that there's a dungeon under the temple, though the entrance to it is well hidden.
NPCs thus far:
Potentate of the temple: the head priest and administrator. He has yet to be seen 'on screen' though he has been referred to.
Regent Zachius: And elderly human with a coppery complexion and deep-set wrinkles, the sort of face one expects of a person who has spent a great deal of time in the sun smiling. He's a kind old fellow who is in charge of the Court of Meeting.
Regent Stephen: A younger human who smells rather distinctly of wolf. He's in charge of the dungeons of the temple and seems to be a rather caring and compassionate fellow. It's his job to bring the cases of prisoners before the Potentate.
Regent Thadeus: One of the priests who aids in minor upkeep in the temple proper. He usually isn't seen outside the temple and since his position doesn't put him in much contact with the common folk he tends to be somewhat aloof and judgmental. Also happens to be an elf. Those snooty elves!
Bognus Thundershield: a lay dwarf that operates the temple's teleporter, primarily from Trog's. Though people can be 'ported in from elsewhere as well. While it isn't commonly known, this device can send people over rather long distances, though it's somewhat inaccurate when doing so. Bognus is a bit gruff, though generally good natured. He speaks with a thick Scottish Dwarven accent.
R'lyay! (Beyond the Walls)
Something roils in the ocean off the coast of Town/inside. Something big is rising from the vast depths just off the coastal drop off. Rising, displacing water in high waves that sweep into the harbor, pounding ships and flooding over the docks. Seen from the sky, vast black shadow ascends from the ocean floor, growing larger and larger as it comes. Perhaps less than a quarter mile from the coast of town the first pointed jagged rocks break the water's surface.
Slowly but surely, towers of strange greenish stone rises from below the surface, stabbing upwards into the sky. The cyclopean ruins of a vast and ancient city breach the boundary between water and air. An island, miles across floats ponderously and unstoppably to the surface. As it settles into place offshore, water rushes from the city, flowing back into the ocean, leaving behind seaweed and slimy, green stonework. Almost as soon as the island has settle, waves of thick supernatural fog begin to emanate from its shores, obscuring its outline and making it impossible to observe clearly from the shore.
The City of [R’lyay!] sits offshore, inviting to adventurers who do not fear for their sanity. For now it simply exists, not interacting beyond its upsetting of the Inside harbor and shoreline.
First Bank of Inside (Blue Zone)
The premiere financial institution in the city, and also the top employer of non-evil Evil Outsiders in the tri-dimensional area.
Divinations (Yellow Zone)
Not far from the city walls is a small shop which opened up soon after the war with Felina. Over the door hangs a painted sign.
http://i431.photobucket.com/albums/qq40/happyturtle-avs/hamsa-1.jpg
Divinations
Inside the air smells of dead things - musty and unpleasant. Ghavrion, a rather plain young man is behind the counter. (PM Happyturtle to interact with Ghavrion)
http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/0912/d04/0830/db0f761.png
Trollfinger, Ironpick & Greencheek, Mining & Engineering (Blue Zone)
A run-down building near Trog's Tavern was bought by three goblin enterpreneurs with a large crew and now houses their mining and engineering company. Everyone who needs something dug, built, repaired or blown up is welcome.
The Steam Engine
Somewhere in the sprawling city place a biggish building pops into existence, fitting snugly between two other buildings. Three stories tall, the building is somewhat rustic in style, though clearly not old. Jutting dramatically from the walls of the building are giant cogs and gears which turn and grind ceaselessly, powered by some engine within. A large clock mounted in the center of the top floor wall displays the time, keeping perfect time. From a trio of large chimneys towards the back of the structure pours a continuous billow of steam which rises as a white column visible for miles. Mounted above the front door is a sign made of turning gears and clicking springs which reads:
Each letter is made of multiple pieces which turn and move according to the machinations running them, working so that the sign is always in motion but always readable as well.
If one passes through the front door, they would find themselves inside a warm and somewhat noisy workshop. The bottom floor is open, with a large central counter set towards the back. In the center of the room is a large spiral staircase which leads to the second floor. The walls of the main room are covered with all manner of conceivable clockwork mechanisms. Clocks and watches and automated devices for cooking and cleaning, tiny clockwork automatons which mull about tidying the floor and keeping springs wound, devices shaped like backpacks with odd spindly armatures jutting from them, and so much more. The wall itself is alive with motion as many of the machines click and clank, turning and spinning tiny dynamos, glinting crystal lenses and begging to be inspected. The wares are not limited to the walls, but also hang from the ceiling and rest on neatly ordered shelves. Beneath the constant skuttle of whirling gears is a powerful drone of machinery, invisible within the walls.
Should one proceed up the staircase they would find the second floor far less cluttered, though by no means lest interesting. On this floor is what appears to be a wide open space populated by large works in progress. Mechanical skeletons of almost bestial machines with dozens of legs or folded canvas wings sit about in varying states of construction. Commissions from high paying customers, unique each of them. Stacked along the back wall of the second floor is a long line of tall metal tanks with pressure gauges and pipes mounted on them. Most of them are full and ready to be hooked up to a completed machines to provide power to its steam driven systems.
The third floor of the building is accessed via a small door in the back which is securely locked and bolted, though there is no visible handle of lock anywhere on its flat surface.
Behind the building itself is a separate workshop, also securely locked and barred from unwanted entry. One one side of the small yard between it as the main shop is a towering steam engine, working furiously off a supply of coal shoveled in by automated arms mounted to it and driven by complex gears. The furnace seems responsible for supplying steam via massive pipes to both the workshop and the front store.
Though nobody is currently present, there is a small lever mounted next to the counter on the first floor, marked with a small sign:
The Temple of Dalachrech
The first room entered is a foyer. On the walls are red drapes with silver, two-tailed scorpions embroidered on to them, and next to the door is an ornate font. The granite font stands about waist height, and is a plinth with a bowl of unholy water. Winding around the font are carved centipedes. A door away from this chamber leads to the main prayer hall. This room also has drapes with the two-tailed scorpion device on the walls, and a red velvet carpet flanked by wooden pews leads to an altar at the far end. The altar is covered with red velvet, with a gold statue and red candles placed upon it. The statue depicts a demon with a centipede's body, a scorpion's tail with spinnerets next to the sting, a stag beetle's head and the claws of a praying mantis.
The title is a misnomer, of course. No doubt the moniker of this place was settled on after a brief conversation that started with, 'Wouldn't it be funny if...?'. But now the name has stuck.
But what is this place, you ask?
Quite simple.
This is the place between the others that isn't Outside. Now, not outside as in outdoors. That out-door market place is certainly outside. But it isn't Outside. It isn't nestled between the roaring waves of the sea and the ancient, decaying mountains. It isn't hidden in the wilds.
It's here.
In this city.
This urban center that has burst forth like a field of toad-stools after an autumn rain. This city that begun to grow as soon as the first place of business was planted outside the various ACRO organizations. Or... maybe it was here all along and no one noticed it?
It's a strange city, to be sure. Filled with all manner of people and places and dangers and wonders. One day a location may be an empty lot. The next a butcher shop. The next a lichen-choked cathedral long since abandoned. Nothing is static. All is in flux.
It had to have been here before. Right? People walked from the Taverna to the various Orgs all the time. So how would it have been missed? Perhaps it is now so much more real because it has been acknowledged.
So then, what is this place you ask?
Well my dear hypothetical inquirer, it is the urban counterpart of Outside. It is the inns and shops and streets and slums. The markets and the parks and the fountains and the city squares. It is the libraries and the places of worship and the dank sewer systems. It is all the urban locations that don't have a place to call their own.
Always wanted to crash through a fruit stand in a dramatic chase scene? Well now you can.
Beware the Cute Diseased Pigeons, however. While they may be adorable they are known carries of the deadly Vaporization Flu.
-A massive Shadowland has appeared Outside the City walls. Traveling at night near it is not encouraged.
-A outburst of ghouls was put down by combined Empire and PCs forces recently. Undead activity has been on the rise.
Rules and locations in the spoiler. Please Spoiler any fan service written in this thread. Thank you.
All standard forum rules apply here, as do the godmodding rules generally agreed upon on this sub-forum.
This thread is for urban shenanigans as Outside is for wilderness shenanigans. It's generally a good idea to mark your PC's location with a [Location] tag at the top of your post so that other players using the thread will know where you are.
This thread is open for use by everyone. Feel free to make up locations within or even man a booth at the open market place. Please be respectful of other people's locations and refrain from blowing them up with an orbital laser strike or something.
There are NPCs all over the place, being a city and all. They are free to be used, abused, blown up, or turned into brain-hungry undead at your desecration. Please be responsible with your NPC use and clean up after you're done.
Above all else, be nice and have fun. That's the point of FFRP after all.
About the various 'Zones'. The Blue zone is near the center of the city. Yellow is the area near the city walls. Null is the area between. Red is the area within the Crime Infested Slums.
An Important Note Since it Keeps Coming Up
Inside is part of BOTH Acro AND Town. Inside is a city situated right in the middle of The Nexus, a crossroads between all possible worlds, realities, universes, and ice cream flavors. You can get TO Inside from just about anywhere and to just about anywhere FROM Inside.
ACRO and Town are just two of many worlds that touch The Nexus, and thus Inside. Posters from all FFRP settings are welcome here.
Locations
Market Streets (Main Street all the way through the city)
If you wan to man a booth here with a PC or a named NPC just drop me a PM and a description and I'll add it.
Buying Stuff
Normal, run of the mill things like cheese and lumber and horses can be purchased with previous metals. But if you want rare or magical objects a heap of gold just isn't going to cut it. You'll either need to barter with other magical objects or pay with enchanting reagents. Enchanting reagents are special substances that can't be magically poofed into existence and happen to be important in the creation of enchanted objects, casting of spells, and other such magicy things.
Enchanting reagents can be just about anything, ranging from special metals (mithril, orahalcum, adamantine), distillations of alignments (good, evil, law, chaos, funky, square), pure elements, souls or even essences of an abstract concept (nature, hope, malice, pineappleness). Feel free to use your imagination. But keep in mind that enchanting reagents are something that should be collected IC rather than something you assume you have.
Booths and NPCs
Steve the Smoothie Sultan: portly little man with a snazzy turban, he owns a slushy cart that he pushes around Inside
Vincent the Cheesemaker: a young, dashing looking man who looks like he would rather be swashbuckling. He owns a booth that sells cheese. Go figure.
Tex the Scholar: Own a yurt near the fountain in the city square. Collects, copies, and sells rare books and scrolls. Occasionally gives out quests to acquire new books for him.
Ivan's Inchanted Imports: A balding man with a pet squirrel and a terrible Italian accent, Ivan deals in enchanted objects. He doesn't accept precious metals, though he will take trades and enchanting reagents.
Twoflower the Druid: A seller of herbs, mushrooms, and other products of the forest, Twoflower is your standard tree hugging wild-shaping hippie. Really don't like aberrations.
Jernaldo the Baker: The portly man wears a white apron and a chef hat that seems to stretch off out of sight. One of those thin mustaches, too. He's a bit crazy, but sells the best pastries and trail rations around.
As soon as one passes through the city gates the previously serene sense of wonderment at the distant, lofty mountains and flashing sea is replaced with urban bustle. Carts rattle over flagstones, jostling goods and rider alike as children dart through the streets deeply engaged in a game of Adventurer. Horses and cattle clop down the streets, being led to auction yards or stables or open field or adventure. Merchants and shoppers alike meander through the streets on important and unspoken business while in the distance a clear bell chimes, summoning devotees to the Sanctuary Fortress for worship.
And the booths. Booths everywhere
Booths nestled all along the wide main road house both wares and those selling them, each of which is calling to each passerby, extolling the quality and rarity of his or her goods. Some haggle over prices while other exchange coins.
Clothing and exotic fabrics. Masterful weapons and armor. Pungent smelling spices from the far west. Fruits, grains, and vegetables local and from afar. Jewels in which dance the light of the stars. Scrolls upon which are scribed elder secretes and mysteries forgotten by time (if the owner of the booth is to be believed). Maps promising certain riches to those who follow them.
If it can be desired by the hearts of mortals and paid for with gold, then one’s chance of finding it in the Market Streets is rather sound.
Barkhouse Bestiary (Null Zone)
Odd that the building had seemed to simply spring up overnight. Even stranger is the fact that is has somehow managed to grow over at ACROville as well. Things like that happen all the time in Nexus though, so perhaps not. Or... perhaps so...
You see, when a building pops up over night in Nexus it is usually not there one moment and then there the next. Those who happened to be wandering about during the wee hours of the morning swear that they saw this odd structure growing out of the ground. Like a malformed tree maturing far faster than any tree has any business maturing. And like a tree the roof of the building sports a canopy of branches and leaves which several local birds have already taken up residence in.
The leaves are thick and broad, the bark a curious brick red color and as smooth as a paint finish. Said bark is peeling in several places, revealing younger mottled green bark below. Rather reminiscent of a madrone, really.
Despite the fact that the building is quite clearly a tree it is also quite clearly a building. A tree that has grown into a rather unnatural shape. Above the front door one will find a sign of bright yellow barkless wood which reads:
Off to the side is what one would assume to be a carved wolf of the same wood baying at the sign. Because tree puns are funny.
One will find that the door opens quit effortlessly into the roomy interior of the tree-house. Perhaps the first thing that might strike one as odd is how well lit it is inside, due both to window pains of transparent plant membranes as well as bioluminescent globes hanging from the ceiling. The whole building feels somewhat humid, though the temperature is quite comfortable for your average humanoid.
Also hanging here and there are wooden cages. More akin to old fashioned song-bird cages that the ugly boxish wire mesh variety. Some of the cages are empty. Others contain various animals, both fuzzy and not, which watch passersby with curious eyes.
Like the cages, in truth like the building as a whole, there really don't seem to be any corners to speak of. Only smooth organic curves in this place. Which makes the counter in the main room stand out a fair bit. But only because of its planed surface. It's certainly by no means square. Or even rectangular. Rather it curves and meanders around a fair bit in a very haphazard way.
Behind the counter is a perch. And on the perch is a rather odd bird painted with earth tones and a fair bit of blue. Should a customer have a message for the owner while he's out it will be more than happy to remember it for you. And if he happens to be in another room the bird will probably squawk until it gets his attention.
From the main room one will find three doors branching off to other chambers, all with similar furnishings and décor as the first. One seems to be packed with various supplies for the proper care of curious critters. Food and bedding and cages and the like. To the right one will find more varied critters as in the first main room, though the temperature here is a little warmer and the lighting slightly more dark. Also of note are a series of raised ponds which contain a plethora of colorful fish.
Yes. Even trout.
The final room is fairly large and packed to the gills with all fashion of truly bizarre plants. Many of which seem to be growing what could be assumed to be... equipment. Rope. Individual pieces of armor, pauldrons and bracers mostly. Pendants. And other less identifiable things. At one wall of the chamber is another pond with a smallish waterfall running out above it. And basking on a rock at the edge of the pond is a three foot long salamander. The amphibian, not the elemental. Near it is a sign which reads:
On the second floor of the tree house is Avatar's workshop and personal quarters, though the means by which this portion of the building is accessed isn't immediately clear. The quarters are rather plain and Spartan. The workshop seems cluttered with notes and cages, though there is some semblance of method to the madness.
In all a rather strange place, no doubt. A strange place that sells custom magical beasts and living wondrous items. How very curious indeed. What an item that won't get fried by disjunction? Need a fire breathing guinea pig? Have you always thought that it would be useful to be resistant to petrifaction? Do you need some exploding seed pods? Then, fine customer, you have come to the right place! The proprietor even takes custom orders, though expect that such creatures will take a day or two to complete. After all, it isn't easy to build a living thing from the ground up.
So come in! Look around! Have your lycanthropy repressed and buy a monkey of healing to sit on your head!
Erin's Emporium (Yellow Zone)
Construction Gnomes have been hard at work renovating a small store along one of the various merchantile roads. Well, it was small. Now it's bigger on the inside.
And filled with every sort of weaponry imaginable, from across the multiverse. From blaster carbines to P-90s, surface-to-air missiles to ballistas, zats to nunchucks, they're all here.
Is that a siege crossbow sitting in the corner?
The Scrivener (L/P)
Just inside the front door are rows of bookshelves, featuring many a book, tome, and article filled with useful information. At first one would assume that this is just a bookstore, but, as the clerk behind the counter will cheerfully inform you, The Scrivener specializes in obtaining and researching information for a fee as well. On the second floor is Douglas' office, where one can hire him as a private investigator.
House of Oddities (L/P)
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
This man approaches an empty lot. Walking over, the man kneels down, setting his briefcase next to him. Opening it up, he leans far in, almost to the waist, before drawing himself back out again, holding a beaker of water in one hand and what appears to be a small model house in the other. Closing the briefcase, the Squeaky Shoes Man maneuvers to the center of the lot.
Placing the model down, he pours the water on it and then dashs back to his briefcase quickly. The model grows, slowly at first, then faster until soon, there stands a single story house. The paint was a hideous cat-puke green and peeling. Rust lined the porch railings and shutters were hanging on their sides. The windows were covered in dirt and dust. The man smiled and picked up his briefcase. Moving quickly to his new abode, the wooden steps gave a strained groan under his weight, but held. The door swings open with a screech and the man steps inside.
Some time later, the man comes out with a hammer and a wooden sign. Staking it in front of the house, somehow pushing it into pavement, the man nods, seemingly proud of his work and goes back inside. The sign reads as follows:
Those who walk up the ominously groaning steps and enter the shop/house will be greeted by an incredibly dusty room. Cobwebs lie all along the walls. Floorboards creak precariously. There even seems to be a hole or two in the floor. This place certainly seems unfit to live. To the right and towards the back of the room is another door that must lead further into the house.
In the middle of the room is a card table with one leg shorter than the others creating that annoying, impossible to remove, wobble. Sitting in a cheap folding metal chair facing the doorway is the Squeaky Shoes man. On top of the table is the briefcase.
Welcome to the House of Oddities. What is your flavor today?
Hestia Cyanide's Potions and Poisons (L/P)
The rumbling of cartwheels and the clippetty-clop of carthorses comes to a halt as the quaint little wagon comes to a halt in the empty lot. And I do mean quaint. About the size of a small room, the wagon seems comically tiny compared to the large twin carthorses that pull it, appearing too small for someone to live in, let alone hold a shop in. At least, until it expands. The wagon seems almost to explode as it enlarges, rooms and walls and chimneys and roofs popping and appearing until the wagon resembles a small, double-story, brightly painted cottage on wheels. The house sinks to the ground, wainscots lowering lowering to hide the wheels from view, until steps pop out from the bottom of the front door, coming to the floor, and a stable pops out from the side. A large creature, perhaps a troll, or maybe an ogre or a morlock or a bugbear, comes out the front door, herds the two carthorses into the stables (which, curiously, hold room for four), then returns inside, but not before hanging up a wooden sign proclaiming
Hestia Cyanide's
Potions and Poisons
in large white letters.
The inside of the shop is smoky and warm, with a sitting room at the front, consisting of a variety of mismatched comfy chairs arranged around a low-slung table, and a 'kitchen', if it can be called that, at the back, a chaotic arrangement of shelving containing a perplexing multitude of jars, vials and bottles, all facing inwards towards a giant cauldron (and a small stepladder, for Hestia is of the small sort).
The upstairs part of the store is out of bounds, for it is where Hestia lives and sleeps, when she is not at PEACE.
Shrine to Sart'Ran (Blue Zone)
Out in the main street, a stand is unfurling. It's quite an impressive stand. Out the front there's much black and white fabric hanging from beams, giving a very welcoming feel to the whole thing. There's no front counter, but rather an entrance to the tent in the back with several healing tools set on racks on the wall.
Out the front of this store is a kindly cleric. At first glance one may be fooled into thinking that he's old, but however they'd soon realise that it's actually quite a young cleric, although they may feel reassured by his robes, those of an experienced cleric.
His face is quite handsome, and his face is very kind, although at the moment there's a troubled look on his brow. Nevertheless, he'll greet any visitors with a happy smile, before leading them inside the tent.
Club 30's (Red Zone)
The club is presently in an uncertain state between leveled and not leveled.
A posh nightclub run by Jack, one of the area's businessmen. Ladies and gentlemen from all walks of life meet and mingle here, so long as they follow the formal dress code. The interior is set up in 50's modern-jazz style. There is a private VIP area for business dealings or couples who want to be away from prying eyes, a bar, and a raised stage. Live music is played nightly, currently fronted by Jack's girlfriend Layla, a pretty blonde elven girl.
Ghostbusters' Firehouse (L/P)
In the area of town called Kingsville, after the devastation caused by the White King to it, a old building, that was once a firehouse stands.
On the outside a sign sits above the large doors depicting a concerned looking ghost in the middle of a red-hashed 'no' symbol.
This is the Ghostbusters' Inside station, similar to the headquarters in New York, but with a few minor differences.
Only one ghostbuster is available here. But he's ready to take on any ghost-related problems at almost any time.
The Black Label (Yellow Zone)
In a room adjacent to Erin's Emporium, a new business has opened.
The store is lined with parts. Frames, slides, stocks, bolts, sights, scopes, barrels, hammers, grips, and various internal mechanisms are on shelves, in display cases, and laid out on tables. Other racks and cases hold complete firearms of every description and sort.
There are also stands and mock up of gun fighting rigs, body armor, and systems resembling the Land Warrior and Future Force Warrior programs.
In the back, you can see machinery of a varied sort. Lathes, drills, work benches with a variety of tools. This place has everything you need to create the perfect weapon for yourself, provided that you use guns.
That includes the gunsmith, Grigori Vanek, better known as Greg, sitting at his counter with his legs propped up, smoking a cigarette.
Signs out front and inside say:
The Misspelled Cemetary (Null Zone)
It's the rain that makes for the perfect atmosphere.
Since the party left the well lit cobbles lanes of the Market Streets the sky has opened up upon our intrepid band of adventurers with a vengeance. The wind howls through barren trees as the rain descends in sheets. The heavens are split by a ribbon of lightning and a roar of thunder.
A massive cast iron gate surrounds this place of once hallowed ground. Yes, hallowed once but no longer. The earth appears dead. Rotten. A phosphorescent green fog creeping along the ground. Misshapen fungus and molds clinging to crumbling monuments. Corpses exposed on the surface, half-eaten with decay.
The gate creeks open of its own accord as the party nears.
And above the gate, in rusted iron letters, reads:
MagMart (Blue Zone)
An absurd mash-up of K-Mart, Wall-Mart, Target, and every other vile retail chain, MagMart is staffed by an unswervingly loyal Magbots, lobotomized talking cats that are too brain-dead to know any better, several voodoo spirits, and a pickle jar that everyone insists is a sentient being that only communes with those who truly believe in it.
Here you can find everything from curtains to carpets, macaroni to monkeys on motorcycles, groceries to zombies. The staff is always happy to help (or else), and if you aren't entirely satisfied with your shopping experience, you can pay a small fee to watch the MagMart employee of your choosing get fired out the MagMart complimentary employee morale cannon.
Pontius' Custom Constructs (Null Zone)
The caravan of 6 wagons (I never said 3! Well, I did, but still.) arrives at a warehouse, previously for sale. The gnomes lead the golems and other constructs inside, and get to work. The warehouse has an open yard at the main entrance, and several golems, like crude figures of worked stone or wood, stand in the yard. A gnome wearing an apron over smart-yet-practical artesan's clothes and puts a sign up.
Pontius's Custom Constructs
Golems of Any Material* at Unbelievably Low Prices!!!**
You Won't Find a Golem, Gargoyle, Guardian or Homonculus Cheaper!!***
Come Now and Buy 1 Get 1 Full Price!!!****
*Flesh has an additional charge. **Define 'low'. ***Except at our competitors. ****Terms and conditions apply.
Sanctuary Fortress of Zoemaytare (Blue Zone)
Like so many other prominent buildings in Town, or not so prominent buildings for that matter, this place seemed to pop up out of nowhere over night.
Buildings are like mushrooms in Town. Probably spread via spores, too.
Regardless, here it is. A rather sizable campus marble hewn from the mountains some distance away. Carved and hauled here near the edge of the slums where they were no doubt assembled. Though... no one can quite place a finger on when this happened.
Though the buildings aren't of only cold hard stone, no. There are timbers as well. Not what one might expect, however. They seem almost organic. As though they had grown into place rather than being hewn.
Oddness aside, the temple is arranged in a rather interesting fashion. Several concentric wall and courtyards ending in a central temple.
The outer wall is lower than the rest, each tier of the temple built onto higher ground like a wedding cake. Each wall is topped with a roof supported on the inside by pillars, creating a sheltered walkway. The exact use of these porches depends on the section of the temple one happens to be in.
Anyone is allowed entry through the first wall and into the first court, the Court of Meeting. Beyond the second wall only worshipers of Zoemaytare are allowed admittance to the second court, the Court of the Blessed. Beyond the third wall only the priests are allowed, where they carry out holy rituals within the temple itself.
The Court of Meeting is dedicated to service of those the worshipers of Zoemaytare dwell among. Food is prepared for the hungry here and given out without expectation of recompense. Those without a place to lay their head are allowed to sleep within the porch. The grounds beyond the porch are devoted to a wondrous garden boasting vibrancy and spectacular color. This are is always comfortably warm and brimming with life. Wounds heal faster as the body is refreshed. Undead creatures will find that remaining here is decidedly uncomfortable.
The sky above the temple seems to be perpetually clear, filled with pleasant sunlight in the day and cloaked with gossamer stars at night. Benches are set up here and there, under trees with hanging branches and above fragrant shrubbery. A lively stream flows endlessly in a circuit about the Court, spilling into several larger pools and meandering up a small outcrop of stone before cascading back down the other side.
This section of the temple is tended by members of the faith. Not priests, though devote. They can be found tending the garden and serving warm food. When in service to the temple these devotees wear a white linen ephod bearing the symbol of a willow tree, ornately rendered in blue thread. They'll be more than happen to answer any questions. Priests tend to have stricter ceremonial garb, including a blue tunic and white robe in addition to the ephod.
Welcome, traveler. May you be more blessed when you leave than when you came.
New information that isn't readily noticeable at first glance at the temple will be added here.
The temple grounds are protected by a dampening field that blocks unauthorized teleporation and dimensional shifting. The place is something of a fortress after all. Being able to pop in and out at will would defeat the purpose.
Zoemaytare isn't a god of (fill in the black) but rather the patron and protector of her people. As such, her domain, if she even has one, is over all that her people do. The people in question are collectively known as the Zoeos, and this particular temple is their first major venture into Town. At present their stated goal is to set up trade relations and aid the city. This is ministered through the temple on account of the Zoeos government being a theocracy.
It just so happens that there's a dungeon under the temple, though the entrance to it is well hidden.
NPCs thus far:
Potentate of the temple: the head priest and administrator. He has yet to be seen 'on screen' though he has been referred to.
Regent Zachius: And elderly human with a coppery complexion and deep-set wrinkles, the sort of face one expects of a person who has spent a great deal of time in the sun smiling. He's a kind old fellow who is in charge of the Court of Meeting.
Regent Stephen: A younger human who smells rather distinctly of wolf. He's in charge of the dungeons of the temple and seems to be a rather caring and compassionate fellow. It's his job to bring the cases of prisoners before the Potentate.
Regent Thadeus: One of the priests who aids in minor upkeep in the temple proper. He usually isn't seen outside the temple and since his position doesn't put him in much contact with the common folk he tends to be somewhat aloof and judgmental. Also happens to be an elf. Those snooty elves!
Bognus Thundershield: a lay dwarf that operates the temple's teleporter, primarily from Trog's. Though people can be 'ported in from elsewhere as well. While it isn't commonly known, this device can send people over rather long distances, though it's somewhat inaccurate when doing so. Bognus is a bit gruff, though generally good natured. He speaks with a thick Scottish Dwarven accent.
R'lyay! (Beyond the Walls)
Something roils in the ocean off the coast of Town/inside. Something big is rising from the vast depths just off the coastal drop off. Rising, displacing water in high waves that sweep into the harbor, pounding ships and flooding over the docks. Seen from the sky, vast black shadow ascends from the ocean floor, growing larger and larger as it comes. Perhaps less than a quarter mile from the coast of town the first pointed jagged rocks break the water's surface.
Slowly but surely, towers of strange greenish stone rises from below the surface, stabbing upwards into the sky. The cyclopean ruins of a vast and ancient city breach the boundary between water and air. An island, miles across floats ponderously and unstoppably to the surface. As it settles into place offshore, water rushes from the city, flowing back into the ocean, leaving behind seaweed and slimy, green stonework. Almost as soon as the island has settle, waves of thick supernatural fog begin to emanate from its shores, obscuring its outline and making it impossible to observe clearly from the shore.
The City of [R’lyay!] sits offshore, inviting to adventurers who do not fear for their sanity. For now it simply exists, not interacting beyond its upsetting of the Inside harbor and shoreline.
First Bank of Inside (Blue Zone)
The premiere financial institution in the city, and also the top employer of non-evil Evil Outsiders in the tri-dimensional area.
Divinations (Yellow Zone)
Not far from the city walls is a small shop which opened up soon after the war with Felina. Over the door hangs a painted sign.
http://i431.photobucket.com/albums/qq40/happyturtle-avs/hamsa-1.jpg
Divinations
Inside the air smells of dead things - musty and unpleasant. Ghavrion, a rather plain young man is behind the counter. (PM Happyturtle to interact with Ghavrion)
http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/0912/d04/0830/db0f761.png
Trollfinger, Ironpick & Greencheek, Mining & Engineering (Blue Zone)
A run-down building near Trog's Tavern was bought by three goblin enterpreneurs with a large crew and now houses their mining and engineering company. Everyone who needs something dug, built, repaired or blown up is welcome.
The Steam Engine
Somewhere in the sprawling city place a biggish building pops into existence, fitting snugly between two other buildings. Three stories tall, the building is somewhat rustic in style, though clearly not old. Jutting dramatically from the walls of the building are giant cogs and gears which turn and grind ceaselessly, powered by some engine within. A large clock mounted in the center of the top floor wall displays the time, keeping perfect time. From a trio of large chimneys towards the back of the structure pours a continuous billow of steam which rises as a white column visible for miles. Mounted above the front door is a sign made of turning gears and clicking springs which reads:
Each letter is made of multiple pieces which turn and move according to the machinations running them, working so that the sign is always in motion but always readable as well.
If one passes through the front door, they would find themselves inside a warm and somewhat noisy workshop. The bottom floor is open, with a large central counter set towards the back. In the center of the room is a large spiral staircase which leads to the second floor. The walls of the main room are covered with all manner of conceivable clockwork mechanisms. Clocks and watches and automated devices for cooking and cleaning, tiny clockwork automatons which mull about tidying the floor and keeping springs wound, devices shaped like backpacks with odd spindly armatures jutting from them, and so much more. The wall itself is alive with motion as many of the machines click and clank, turning and spinning tiny dynamos, glinting crystal lenses and begging to be inspected. The wares are not limited to the walls, but also hang from the ceiling and rest on neatly ordered shelves. Beneath the constant skuttle of whirling gears is a powerful drone of machinery, invisible within the walls.
Should one proceed up the staircase they would find the second floor far less cluttered, though by no means lest interesting. On this floor is what appears to be a wide open space populated by large works in progress. Mechanical skeletons of almost bestial machines with dozens of legs or folded canvas wings sit about in varying states of construction. Commissions from high paying customers, unique each of them. Stacked along the back wall of the second floor is a long line of tall metal tanks with pressure gauges and pipes mounted on them. Most of them are full and ready to be hooked up to a completed machines to provide power to its steam driven systems.
The third floor of the building is accessed via a small door in the back which is securely locked and bolted, though there is no visible handle of lock anywhere on its flat surface.
Behind the building itself is a separate workshop, also securely locked and barred from unwanted entry. One one side of the small yard between it as the main shop is a towering steam engine, working furiously off a supply of coal shoveled in by automated arms mounted to it and driven by complex gears. The furnace seems responsible for supplying steam via massive pipes to both the workshop and the front store.
Though nobody is currently present, there is a small lever mounted next to the counter on the first floor, marked with a small sign:
The Temple of Dalachrech
The first room entered is a foyer. On the walls are red drapes with silver, two-tailed scorpions embroidered on to them, and next to the door is an ornate font. The granite font stands about waist height, and is a plinth with a bowl of unholy water. Winding around the font are carved centipedes. A door away from this chamber leads to the main prayer hall. This room also has drapes with the two-tailed scorpion device on the walls, and a red velvet carpet flanked by wooden pews leads to an altar at the far end. The altar is covered with red velvet, with a gold statue and red candles placed upon it. The statue depicts a demon with a centipede's body, a scorpion's tail with spinnerets next to the sting, a stag beetle's head and the claws of a praying mantis.
The title is a misnomer, of course. No doubt the moniker of this place was settled on after a brief conversation that started with, 'Wouldn't it be funny if...?'. But now the name has stuck.
But what is this place, you ask?
Quite simple.
This is the place between the others that isn't Outside. Now, not outside as in outdoors. That out-door market place is certainly outside. But it isn't Outside. It isn't nestled between the roaring waves of the sea and the ancient, decaying mountains. It isn't hidden in the wilds.
It's here.
In this city.
This urban center that has burst forth like a field of toad-stools after an autumn rain. This city that begun to grow as soon as the first place of business was planted outside the various ACRO organizations. Or... maybe it was here all along and no one noticed it?
It's a strange city, to be sure. Filled with all manner of people and places and dangers and wonders. One day a location may be an empty lot. The next a butcher shop. The next a lichen-choked cathedral long since abandoned. Nothing is static. All is in flux.
It had to have been here before. Right? People walked from the Taverna to the various Orgs all the time. So how would it have been missed? Perhaps it is now so much more real because it has been acknowledged.
So then, what is this place you ask?
Well my dear hypothetical inquirer, it is the urban counterpart of Outside. It is the inns and shops and streets and slums. The markets and the parks and the fountains and the city squares. It is the libraries and the places of worship and the dank sewer systems. It is all the urban locations that don't have a place to call their own.
Always wanted to crash through a fruit stand in a dramatic chase scene? Well now you can.
Beware the Cute Diseased Pigeons, however. While they may be adorable they are known carries of the deadly Vaporization Flu.