Build-A-Legend: "The Glass Sea"

[Admiral Squish]

Welcome to Build-A-Legend! It's a simple game, but I do hope you'll enjoy it.
Your task is simply to create the legend behind the name of the week. It can be a creature, a place, an event, an idea, or pretty much any other sort of noun you can think of. It can be in any setting you can think of, from high fantasy, to sci fi, to alternate history, to official settings, of it can even be its own setting. Each week, on Friday, I'll update with a new name for people to build on, and put the last one into the archive of previous names. You can suggest new names if you want, and you can still post ideas for former names if you want. There's no rules, just have fun and try not to insult other people's creations. Do those count as rules?

Name of the Week: “The Glass Sea”

Spoiler: Previous Names

Show

“The Iron Cathedral”

The first name was “The Iron Cathedral”

[Forrestfire]

A quick googling says the St. Louis Cathedral, in Fort-de-France.

[Red Fel]

Excuse me while I dig up my inner poet for a moment...

... blah blah, I've heard it before, there's no oxygen in there, shut up and be poetic...

Ahem.

The Iron Cathedral... It is said that in the Ore Hills to the west, atop a great smithy, lies the Iron Cathedral, a great citadel populated by enthusiasts of the crafting and use of metal. It is a church of steel, home to devotees of the sword and the forge. By day, its honeycombed halls are filled with the sounds of blade on blade and hammer on anvil; by night, the dim glow of ever-burning forges from deep within the bowels of the mountain lends the entire complex its warmth.

In its libraries can be found myriad texts on the art of swordplay, the secrets of metallurgy, poetry and prose in abundance, dedicated to the manifold forms of metal and their uses. In its halls can be found training dummies, sparring arenas, and tables where the Cathedral's disciples gather. In its armories can be found more weapons and armor than there are stars in the sky; it is the dream of every student of the Cathedral to master each and every one of them. And deep below, the sacred smithy, where the greatest craftsmen practice their art, teaching the next generation, each one hoping to create a work of functional beauty destined to be the stuff of legends.

I hear it smells like charcoal.

[DM Nate]

All hail The Builder!

[Grinner]

*snip*

Nailed it.

[Admiral Squish]

Very cool description! Much more detailed than anything I came up with. I did have a vague idea that it might be a nickname for a ship of some sort, but that's pretty much all I had.

[Lord Torath]

The name of the place where the inquisition keeps its prisoners. (He got sent to the Iron Cathedral. We'll never see him again) Or the main temple of the evil church. Or both.

Also, warforged storage.

In an alternate setting, the latest Space Marine Battle Barge.

[Red Fel]

Very cool description! Much more detailed than anything I came up with. I did have a vague idea that it might be a nickname for a ship of some sort, but that's pretty much all I had.

A ship? Hmm, I think we can do something with that.

... Oi, you get, back here! Who said you could eat? Get to work!

Ahem.

Step lightly, lads, and be aboard. Welcome to the Iron Cathedral, the finest warship in the fleet of the Imperium of Man. This is the most heavily fortified warship this sector has ever known. This craft is fully armed with the finest armaments the Tech-Priests could produce, including mass drivers, auto-turrets, antimatter cannons, and several weapons whose names it is a heresy to even utter without direct permission from the Emperor Himself.

Beneath this deck you can find crew quarters. Your gear is already being taken to your bunks. Towards the aft of the vessel are officer quarters and the fully-stocked dining hall. Of course, the Iron Cathedral is a military vessel, but given how many ranking members of the Imperium count aboard our passengers, we have grown accustomed to a certain degree of style and comfort.

Two decks down, we have several fully-outfitted chapels. This is not only a military vessel, but also a sacred temple of the Tech-Priests, and home to several high-ranking officials within the Church. Services are hourly, and open to those passengers who are not considered a risk of Warp or heresy. We have a truly inspiring orator, and these facilities are part of what gives the vessel its name.

I would stay and discuss the ship further, but instead I shall hand you over to Ensign Pulver, who will continue the tour. I must prepare to greet our next passengers. We have Inquisitors aboard this trip!

I suppose I could modify it to be a naval vessel instead of a WH40K spacecraft. I'd probably have done better with that, since I barely know thing the first about WH40K. But that's just an idea.

[hymer]

While intimidated by RF, here was my first thought:

In the open plains west of the Stormbreaker Mountains, the armies of the North Alliance gathered five hundred years ago to stand against the invading hobgoblin hordes. The Alliance had only managed to gather in time because the Knights of the Hart had fought a long delaying action against innumerable hobgoblins, their chivalric numbers reduced to ninety, fiftytwo of whom had been dubbed knights during that very action. The rest of their legion had fallen.
Over three days the bloody battle raged in the plains, the hobgoblins attacking at night and the alliance attacking at day. The stubbornness and courage on both sides resulted in such vast and protracted slaughter as has never been seen before or since. But finally, the hobgoblin armies broke and were routed, when Lady Variana, the last surviving Knight of the Hart, bloodied but unbowed, personally led the charge at sunup on the fourth day. No tired hobgoblin could stand before her and those who followed her example, and those who still could took to flight. And so the North was saved, albeit at spectacular cost.

In the years that followed, the dwarves gathered the arms and armour of the fallen and built a great forge and smithy on the battlefield. And when the Lady died, still Lady Commander of the revitalized order, she was taken to the site of her greatest glory and interred. And the dwarves built over her a whole cathedral of the iron reclaimed from the arms of those who fell in the battle. And to this day, the Iron Cathedral stands in the plains, visible far off as a dark and solemn memorial, maintained in turn by all the peoples who came together five centuries ago to save themselves and each other.

[Admiral Squish]

Goosebumps, guys. Seriously.

[123456789blaaa]

This seems like it could be a fun forum game in general. Come up with a name and let other forumites expand on it.

[BRC]

My brain jumped to something a little less inspiring, and a little more horrific.

It they used to call it the Great Cathedral, before the Plague came.

It came from the east, having devastated the kindly river-folk who lived there, and began spreading through the countryside. The good priests did their duty, setting out from their cloisters to offer aid to the sick, and comfort to those who could not be saved. That is, until one of the priests, his name is now forgotten, returned to the Cathedral, wild eyed. He ranted about seeing demons and dark spirits emerging from the bodies of the infected, about how the Infected were vessels of evil. The priest was escorted inside, to consult with the elders of the church. Apparently, he convinced them. From that day forward, the kindly priests no longer set out.
First, the priests used their magic, and the labor of the good folk of the city, to raise a wall around the cathedral grounds. Then, a second wall, then guard towers began springing up around the cathedral. A pair of massive gates were constructed. The Cathedral Gates almost never opened. When they did, it was normally to let groups of heavily armed soldiers out. These soldiers would go to an infected village, surround it, and burn it to the ground.
The once beloved Great Cathedral became the Iron Cathedral. An Impenetrable fortress in the heart of the city, a place of dread that only opened it's gates to send killers on their grim missions. Even as the Plague began to fade, the Priesthood's behavior became more and more erratic. The fanatic knights were sent to destroy places with even a hint of infection, and then places that had no signs of infection at all. Every day, priests in cloaks and masks could be seen blessing the stones of the cathedral, as if preparing for some great siege.
Finally, the King stepped in. No more could the Church's madness be tolerated. The Royal Army marched to the gates of the Iron Cathedral, but there was no response. The Church's Soldiers and priests could be seen on the walls, but there was no response.
Finally, a single masked priest was lowered on a rope, he approached the commander of the King's army, and uttered ten words"
"The Sanctuary Is Complete. Only the Chosen will be spared".
The priest refused to speak from that point on. The Royal army continued it's siege, but the gates never opened again. Today, only a token force maintains the siege. The Iron Cathedral, bristling with fortifications, reinforced by the countless spells of the mad priests, has sat quietly for years, a grim reminder of those dark days.

[Teron]

I'm picturing a church, grand and ornate, with row upon row of sturdy pews filled with shackled parishioners. Every day, after the last service, priests walk down the aisles and distribute food and blessings to the congregation. Most bow their heads and quietly accept the bread and soft words, but sometimes one looks up and asks to go to confession. The priest smiles warmly, unlocks his chains, and leads him away.

[rs2excelsior]

The city had been peaceful. Though it lay on the fringes of civilization, its people were happy and unworried. Their borders to the north were a freezing wasteland, completely uninhabitable by any sane man. Agriculture was difficult here too, but there were good roads to the east and the south, and enough raw material and trade to keep up a thriving economy. The city boasted a beautiful church, the Cathedral of Gold, to the god that watched over the city. Every day, the priests would come forth and give thanks to their deity for preserving the beautiful city.

They came from the north. Out of the frozen wastes issued forth brutal, wild-eyed barbarians. The people of the city were shocked, for they had no idea how anyone could survive in such a brutal climate. The city militia went out to fight, and were slaughtered to a man. Messengers were sent to the nearby cities, in the hope that aid would come before the walls fell. All were caught and brought in clear view of the city walls and towers. Three days later when the last one finally died, their bodies were barely recognizable as human. The city despaired.

The priests of the Cathedral of Gold were kindly men, who spent their days feeding the poor and educating the citizens. They too feared the wild invader. But one of the order's most basic tenets, found in virtually all of their scriptures, was to protect the innocent from those who would do them harm. So while the lords of the city panicked and sought their own safety, the priests took up arms and trained the citizens. The blacksmiths, at the request of the priests, began producing spears and javelins and armor from before sunrise to well past sunset. The priests demonstrated on the walls, and held off several barbarian attacks for six days, losing many of their order. Then, on the seventh day, the people of the city with the priests at their head burst from the city at sunrise. The barbarians were surprised at their strength, for nearly every man, woman, and child who could hold a spear had come to fight. Even the city lord who had first sought to abandon the city fought beside the lowliest beggar, a spear in his hands.

The battle lasted the whole day, and by sunset gave no sign of ending. By the light of a full moon it continued through the night. As the barbarians grew more desperate, so did the resolve of the city's people grow. The priests fought at the head of every battalion, always leading those they protected into the fray. By sunrise, the scattered barbarians fled, their chiefs killed, their resolve shattered. And the people of the city mourned the dead.

The lord of the city declared the church which had saved them all as the "Cathedral of the Shield" in the old tongue. Though the priests wanted the incident forgotten, the citizens celebrated them. But a mis-translation caught hold among the populace. It remains in use to this day--the church was from then on known as the Iron Cathedral.

[Eldan]

Many know the Iron Tower, the fortress standing in the paranoid heart of that dreadful hellish city, Dis, where ancient Dispater rules with an iron fist. Few, however, have heard of what lies below the city, below its rust-encrusted sewers and red-hot glowing cellars, below dungeons made of only spikes and chains of cruel steel and the cold offices of lead and bone of the Duke's secret service, deeper and deeper still, lies the Iron Cathedral.
And many know God Street, where those lesser gods of evil law, too low to carve a desmesne of their own from the hateful lands of Baator, errect their temples of plain, fire-gleaming steel. But few, even among the gods, know what fate awaits those who fall even deeper, those evicted from god street.
Nothing in life is free. This is more true than ever in the afterlife, or at least it is in hell. There are the known costs and the hidden costs and the debts one breathes and lives just by existing here. In Hell, in God Street, even the gods pay their dues. The souls of their worshippers end up not in an afterlife of their patron's making, as do those of the greater among the divine.
There is not normally a day or night in Dis, only the hellish glow of red-hot iron walls under a sullen sky. But once every seventeen years, when the final gears of Mechanus click on a single tooth and count down the time of the planes, the storm of green lightning flickering from the Tower ceases, the carnelian and orange glow of the walls fades away and the smoke descends, chocking the streets in fog.
There are nights when even devils stay inside. For this is the Due Date, when the Iron Inquisitors descend to bring in the rent. And those among those least divinities of law who can not pay hell's tithe, who have not amassed the souls, are taken away. The Iron Cathedral forever echoes with their screams.
For in Hell, all pay their debts, in currency or in pain.

[Admiral Squish]

This seems like it could be a fun forum game in general. Come up with a name and let other forumites expand on it.

Well, it definitely seems to have some potential, judging by all the response. Probably needs a better name than 'What is', though, if it's to catch on.

[Rion]

Well, it definitely seems to have some potential, judging by all the response. Probably needs a better name than 'What is', though, if it's to catch on.

Depending on how long it should be, either "Build the legend beihnd the name" or just "The Legendary..."/"The Legendary [Insert name]".
I'm not the best at coming up with names, but the idea does have potential and more than a few of the Iron Cathedral stories have been insteresting. Definitely seems like something that could inspire both DMs and world builders.

[Admiral Squish]

Hmm. A bit long... How about 'The Legend Of: X'?

[Rion]

Hmm. A bit long... How about 'The Legend Of: X'?

Better than any of my ideas, but I'm really looking forward to if anything springs from this.

[Stubbazubba]

Depending on how long it should be, either "Build the legend beihnd the name" or just "The Legendary..."/"The Legendary [Insert name]".
I'm not the best at coming up with names, but the idea does have potential and more than a few of the Iron Cathedral stories have been insteresting. Definitely seems like something that could inspire both DMs and world builders.

"Build Me a [BLANK] Worthy of Mordor..."

Or more generically:

"Build Me a [BLANK]"

But that sounds like a char-op thing, so:

"Build the Legend: [BLANK]"

Getting away from that formula, you have:

"Story Forge: [BLANK]" (alternatively Legend Forge, Mind Forge, etc.)

"Forge Me a [BLANK]"

"Build/Forge-a-Legend: [BLANK]"

I kind of like that last one.

Sorry, nothing to contribute on the IC just yet.

[The Glyphstone]

The four hundred and fifteenth layer of the Abyss is the Blood Mines - an infinite landscape of open pits and winding tunnels, populated by countless slaves who labor through the endless days and nights under the whips of their demonic overseers. The ores thus dug out are delivered on the backs of yet more slaves to the center of the layer, and the massive Iron Cathedral that sits there. Half church, half hell-forge, it is the forever busy home of the demigod Feirus, the Tyrant Smith. Beneath his burning gaze, cursed artisans toil to craft weapons of war and destruction while chanting rhythmic hymns in his praise. Hammers ring on anvils in a cacophonous bell-like chorus, and furnace pipes wheeze smoke and steam as guided by talented abyssal organists. One smith may take decades to finish his work, for he knows that it will leave his hands to go for personal inspection before the demigod. Please Feirus, and work begins anew; should the creation be flawed in some imperceptible way, weapon and smith are dumped into the vats of molten steel for reuse.

Zolo's Guide To Travelers, Chapter Twelve - Dangers of the Dark Planes

[Admiral Squish]

I did have a really cool idea for one, was gonna write it up as a monologue, but I can't seem to make the dialect work, so I'll just jot down the details.

The Iron Cathedral, A-K-A Shipyard 42, A-K-A Big rusty, A-K-A 'the big brown one, you can't miss it'
Construction on the building began in New York City, in 1912, just a few months after the Titanic landed safely in the city. After that, there was a sudden boom of demand for 'ocean titans', massive luxury cruise liners. It's remained the largest shipyard on the eastern seaboard. They were regarded as incredibly safe, steerage tickets were relatively cheap, and they could just name their price for luxury tickets. There was a bit of a competition between shipyards to make the biggest, the most luxurious ocean titan. The structure was named by a reporter with a particular fondness for florid language, and the boss liked the name so much he took it. When the Great War broke out, Britain conscripted the HMS Titanic to ship supplies in from overseas and transport massive amounts of troops. After it took four torpedoes and rammed a kaiser battleship in half on a battle, soon other ocean titans were tapped for military duty. Big Rusty was the first shipyard to launch an 'Unsinkable' a military-grade ocean titan. Titanium construction allows for thicker armor and more reinforced design, and the sheer size allowed simply massive artillery cannons could be mounted onto it. The unsinkables became huge symbols of military power, like the over-sized battleships of WWII, such as the Bismark or the Yamato, and have great psychological impact. The Iron Cathedral has rusted since its first construction, the labor required to keep it coated and polished not available during the war. It's now ~1930, and the Iron Cathedral is one of the only stable sources of employment in the midst of the depression. The crew takes great pride in Big Rusty never being empty. They send out a ship one day and lay the frame for the next the very following day. To be employed by the shipyard, you need to be the best of the best. The best welders, the best plumbers, the best carpenters.

[The Oni]

I'm picturing a church, grand and ornate, with row upon row of sturdy pews filled with shackled parishioners. Every day, after the last service, priests walk down the aisles and distribute food and blessings to the congregation. Most bow their heads and quietly accept the bread and soft words, but sometimes one looks up and asks to go to confession. The priest smiles warmly, unlocks his chains, and leads him away.

Honestly, this is the scariest try of the whole lot. Points for brevity.

[Yora]

Many know the Iron Tower, the fortress standing in the paranoid heart of that dreadful hellish city, Dis, where ancient Dispater rules with an iron fist.

That was the first thing I was thinking off as well.

[Eldan]

That was the first thing I was thinking off as well.

It does sort of offer itself, given that everything Dispater even looks at is called the Iron Something. The "Cathedral" was the difficult part.

The alternative was being a smartass and dig up the etymology of "cathedral" (looked it up, ecclesia cathedralis (church with a bishop's seat, from Kathedra (throne).)
So, that probably doesn't work either, or we'd land in Song of Ice and Fire.

[Yora]

My first hunch was the headquarter of Dispaters lieutenant who is in charge of managing his cults of mortal worshippers.

[Eldan]

I did consider that, but I don't actually like the idea of religious worship of the archfiends all that much. I like to keep them separate and different from gods.

[Rion]

Is it going to be a new thread, or just reusing this one?

[Admiral Squish]

You know, I figured other people would just start posting threads of a similar nature, but I could certainly convert this thread, easily enough. I just have to come up with a new prompt.

[Admiral Squish]

Alright! I've edited the first post and officially converted this from a simple question to a forum game. Let the fun parts begin!

Name of the Week: "The Glass Sea"