Moldering hinterlands and the remnants of a bloodthirsty religion seem like an unlikely setting for a
The community of Lepidstadt rose upon the Lesser Moutray over 700 years ago, little more than an outpost of farmers and woodsmen who trusted in the murk of the Dipplemere to keep roving bands of orcs and Kellids at bay. They of course knew of the ancient “witchstones” that dotted the lands, monuments to strange entities worshiped by ancient Kellid shamans, but all with sense knew to give the pale rocks a wide berth. The Treyes brothers changed that, as their audacious exploration of the Spiral Cromlech revealed treasures of a mysterious past, their value in gold and mystery outstripping the threat of ancient curses. Soon an army of scholars and adventure-seekers made the city their garrison, besieging the ruins of the ancient land. As discoveries and doldrums caused the land’s novelty to ebb and f low, Lepidstadt became the permanent home of numerous academics, whose works and families promoted the growth of the local university and, over time, elevated it to the vaunted center of scholarship it’s known as today. Within the past 40 years, much of Lepidstadt has been renovated, with centuries-old hovels replaced by freshly imported wood and marble. Yet only the city’s elite preoccupy themselves with idyllic aspirations, and as one wanders away from the central plazas, old stone homes and repurposed mills show through the modern veneer, their residents living as they have for centuries, rolling their eyes at every new convolution of the city’s higher society.
Locations in Lepidstadt
Bastions of both the superstitious past and audacious future crowd behind Lepidstadt’s walls, their opposing philosophies warring for the city’s minds and souls.
Brazen Skull: A favorite pub of members of the university’s dueling fraternities, the Brazen Skull holds the rapiers of famed alumni in places of honor upon the taproom walls, arranged in ranks like deadly tally marks. Above the hearth’s forest of trophies hangs the blade of owner Kaysia Cazynsik and a bronzed stone giant skull said to shed a single tear every time a member of one of the university’s dueling brotherhoods dies.
Gravecharge: An army of skeletal horses races across the facade and around the central dome of Lepidstadt’s cathedral of Pharasma, ever rising in a course similar to the goddess’s symbol as they ascend into her ethereal domain. Father Eswayne Cidaimoikis holds daily services, his pulpit situated behind a mass grave where the ancient bones of the soldiers and steeds of Baldrumon Vielass, brother in arms of Soividia Ustav, are interred. In ages past, these legendary knights did battle against the dragon Kulsyther, fighting off its poison breath long enough to defeat the beast and wrest the land from savagery. The pious claim that the lance of Vielass still pins shut the jaws of Kulsyther within the 20-foot-deep ossuary.
Lepidstadt University: Ustalav’s internationally renowned center of learning, Lepidstadt University endorses the so called “mortal sciences,” espousing the ability of medicine, mathematics, and the sciences to unveil wonders rivaling the miracles of magic. Presided over by dean Acciani Viacarri, the campus includes the Laurelgauge Library, Vighkeir Hall, the Treyes Museum of Antiquities, half of the nearby Fort Cindercairn, and various other lecture halls and dormitories. Aside from its faculty’s advances in the understanding of anatomy and medicine, the school is also known for its numerous dueling fraternities, brotherhoods like Gateguard and Malkenclaw that pride themselves on teaching the artistry and honor of swordsmanship. Before graduation, fraternity members meet, unarmored, upon Fifthstones Hill (the city’s southern rise), and duel their fellows one at a time until cut upon the face. Such “Lepidstadt scars” are held as marks of pride and prowess recognized by duelists throughout the world.
The Spiral Cromlech: Although the name refers primarily to the central monument, the Spiral Cromlech is comprised of an incomplete outer ring of standing stones, two alternating circles of moon-white menhirs, and a twisted, 16-foot-tall central spire of unidentifiable black rock etched with images of naked Kellid revelers joined by demonic nymphs and curvaceous incubi in their spiraling skyward debauch.
Ventriloquist’s Pulpit: Situated near the city’s heart, the Ventriloquist’s Pulpit once served as the central hall and north wing of Mandaleat Court, seat of administration for Vieland’s former counts. During the hall’s demolition, workers discovered strange acoustic properties beneath the dome that caused their voices to echo back in unpredictably angelic or demonic tones. Charmed, the ruling council had the remaining structure preserved as a museum of local history and offices for councilors. Yet some claim it wasn’t the haunting echoes that preserved the old court, but rather the discovery of secret basement reeking of brimstone and adorned with trappings of Garundi mysticism.
Rumors in Lepidstadt
Whether through the gossip of street vendors or the theories of students, Lepidstadt’s rumor mill grinds just as strongly as that of any other Ustalavic city, but many Lepidstads see conspiracy in the details others dismiss as coincidence.
The All-Seeing Eye: Ask the city’s most suspicious citizens what poses the greatest threat to their city, and many will say Aldus Aldon Canter, Vieland’s disgraced and 700-yearsmissing former count. Such conspiracy theorists claim that the inheritors of Canter’s teachings, the Esoteric Order of the Palatine Eye, continues to manipulate Lepidstadt, Vieland, the Palatinates, and, indeed, all of Ustalav from the shadows. To what end, few can say, but many suggest plots of a growing shadow government, world-reshaping arcanists, and Canter’s centuries-long survival, pointing toward clandestine meetings among the city’s elite, citysized sigils, and the very name of the Palatinates as evidence of the Palatine Eye’s growing control.
Beasts of Lepidstadt: Although few can honestly claim to have ever personally seen the notorious Beast of Lepidstadt, all the city’s residence know the living legend of the 10- foot terror, the unholy amalgamation of evil stitched to evil, the unborn son of dead murderers, rabid beasts, and stray devils shackled in f lesh by nail and needlework. Rumors claim the Beast eats children, murders lonely travelers, besieges isolated farmhouses, and commits all the atrocities ascribed to bandits and beasts in other communities. But stranger tales tell of a morbid penchant for corpse-napping and frequent sightings of multiple mysterious silhouettes amid the potter’s fields outside the city, as if the Beast’s nightmarish body hungered for ever more terrible flesh.