SECRETS of

SILENT STREETS

MONTE COOK
 Secrets of Silent Streets
MORE THAN ONE
Thryst gripped her glass so tightly that it might break in her hand.
Would this man ever shut up?
“And so I said, ‘You can’t talk to me like that, I’m a 2nd-degree
velator of the Vancian Order, my good man,’” he droned on.
The party was crowded, and Thryst was caught between this
puffy-faced Vance and a table covered in hors d’oeuvres on silver
platters. Music, barely audible over all the talk, sealed the cracks of
the wall of sound.
Dead angels, but she hated parties. And she had problems at
home. Maybe coming here was nothing more than another bad idea.
A tall, bald woman with striking features walked by, a raven
on one shoulder and a dove on the other. Thryst wished she
was talking to her, or really anyone other than . . . what was this
fellow’s name again?
“Look, you can’t just cast that spell in that register. Everyone
knows that, right?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before going
on. Which was fine, because Thryst wasn’t really listening. She
scanned the crowd.
A man in a brown suit was showing off what looked like
psychokinetic tricks with a Sooth Deck. A woman with a spider
on her shoulder the size of a dinner plate chatted with another
whose flesh appeared to be covered in keyholes. A man laughed
uproariously in a conversation with a reflection in a mirror on the
wall that wasn’t his own.
Dead angels, but she hated vislae parties.
Finally, she spotted the man she had come here to see. He was
tall but soft shouldered, with the very definition of salt and pepper
in his hair and beard. She was so nervous to talk to him. So
worried that it might be a mistake.
And dammit, the Vance was still talking.
“Actually, most people don’t know this, but the original
monograph for that particular invocation hasn’t been seen in the
city since—”
“Hey,” Thryst interrupted, “Isn’t that Audsley Barron?” She
gestured with her drink into the crowd. Predictably, the man
4
turned, his own story forgotten. “Really? You know, I actually met
Audsley once a few years . . .”
Thryst ducked into the first open path the crowd offered her.
She made her path as direct as she could, ducking elaborate
headdresses, shoulder-candles, serving trays, and hovering
familiars as she darted between people. Worrying over her
full glass slowed her down, so she downed it in a single gulp.
Something the Vance had ordered for her without asking, called
a skeleton tree. It tasted like archeology. She grimaced and kept
moving, putting the empty glass on a side table without slowing
down.
“Charles?” she said as she got close. “Charles Abernathy?” A
name so “un-vislae” that she didn’t know if he was a fraud or a
genius.
He met her gaze and smiled. The delightful lines around his
mouth when he grinned made her realize that if she was at all
interested . . . well, she’d be very interested. “Yes?”
She got close so she could talk without shouting, and took a
deep breath to gather some courage. “You don’t know me, but,
well, my name is Thryst Hanley and I was told that you might
know something about demons.” Ugh. He’s a 3rd-degree Goetic.
Of course he knows something about demons. What a stupid
thing to say.
“A little, I suppose. Nice to meet you, Miss Hanley. 1st degree?”
He motioned toward the Order of Goetica symbol she wore on her
lapel.
She nodded, a little sheepishly. Yeah, she was making that
obvious.
“May I ask you a question?”
He took the last sip of his own drink and nodded, affably.
Inspiration dawned. “Hey, can I get you another drink?” She
gestured toward the bar. “What are you having?”
“Oh, well, that’s very kind. It’s a gin and shadow.”
She nodded and smiled, trying to make it not the sort of smile
that covered awkwardness. She figured she failed miserably.

Thryst took her time in the short line at the bar to collect
herself. She didn’t need to be so nervous. He seemed like a nice
fellow and by all accounts helpful to lower-ranking Goetics. She
ordered two gin and shadows. And at this point, if he couldn’t
help, she had no more backup plans.
Charles stood talking to a woman wearing an elaborate mask
but turned to Thryst when she returned. “Thank you very much,”
he said, taking the glass. “Now, what’s on your mind? You said
something about demons.”
Thryst cleared her throat. “Yes, well, you see, I performed a
summoning two days ago, and . . . I can’t get it to leave.”
Charles’s eyes widened. “The demon? It’s still here after two
days? Where is it?”
“My house.”
“Good gods.”
The next day, the trip to the Strangeglass District took about
twenty minutes on the train and another fifteen on foot. The
street was busy, despite the rain. Thryst looked around for
Charles. Was this the address he’d said he would meet her at? She
checked it. And checked it again.
Soon thereafter, Charles approached with a confident stride and
stopped in front of the door. Or rather, in front of the steps that
led down to the door of what looked like an office in the basement
of the shabby brick building. Her uncertainty must have shown
on her face, because Charles said, “Don’t worry. She’s an expert.”
His suit was perfect, and the black of his jacket matched the
black of his umbrella. She held a newspaper over her head. Her
socks were wet inside her not-at-all-waterproof shoes.
Charles led the way down the steps and closed the umbrella as
he entered. A bell tinkled. Only as she passed through the door
did Thryst notice the little placard on the wall next to it. “Greta
Gethaneme. Demonologist.” It bore a symbol that she felt like she
should recognize, but didn’t.
The office looked more like a library, filled with bookcases
overflowing with books. She smelled incense.
An elderbrin parted a curtain and stepped into the room from
the other side. It had a sort of mushroom-shaped head and a
bird-like face complete with a beak. Under midnight blue robes it
seemed mostly humanoid, although its arms were uncomfortably
long. “Can I help you?” it trilled.
“We have an appointment to see Greta,” Charles said.
More Than One
Thryst was so relieved that he was handling all of this. So
grateful for his help. And it all happened so quickly. He must have
pulled some strings after the party last night. Thryst was certain
that having to call on him like this was going to set back her
advancement in the order, but that couldn’t be helped.
The creature smiled—somehow, with a beak, it smiled. “Of
course, sir.” It slipped behind the curtain again.
The woman who came next couldn’t have looked less the part.
She was short, blond, and wore a bit too much lipstick. Her
flouncy white blouse bore a small greasy stain . . . perhaps from
breakfast? “Hello, Charles,” she said with a broad smile.
“Hello, Greta.” Charles shook her hand and she batted her
eyes at him. Thryst had no idea that people actually did that. She
thought it was just something in books. “This is my associate,
Thryst Hanley. She’s got a demon problem.”
Greta shook Thryst’s hand as well. “Oh dear,” she said. “Tell me
all about it.”
Thryst tried to explain.
She talked about how the demon wasn’t a particularly powerful
specimen, but once conjured, it settled into her house. It sat down
on her couch. In fact, it became a pillow on her couch for a few
hours while she tried to figure out how to get it to leave. None of
her books helped, and she didn’t know any spells or signs or other
practices that would banish it. She tried to explain this all without
getting emotional, but she could feel her heart racing, tears
welling in her eyes.
“There, there,” Greta said, patting Thryst’s hand. “You’re not the
first summoner to make an error in the procedures.”
Thryst started to object—she didn’t think she did anything
wrong—but bit her lip. She glanced at Charles, and he gave an
enigmatic nod.
“Is it still a pillow?” Greta asked.
“No.” Thryst shook her head. “It sneaks around the house and
blends in with whatever. It takes various shapes. I think it was a
spoon in my kitchen drawer for a while.”
“And what’s its . . . disposition?”
Thryst shook her head again. “I can hear it giggling at me. It
giggles through the night. I haven’t really slept.”
Greta looked to Charles and smiled. “Have you seen this
yourself?”
“I haven’t been there yet. I figured we should come straight to
you, the expert.”
Greta actually blushed at that point.
“Well, let me get my things,” she said.
5
 Secrets of Silent Streets
The three of them took a cab all the way back to Fartown. Thryst
insisted on paying for it when Charles tried. She spilled a handful
of crystal and glass orbs into the driver’s hand and gave him an
emphatic look. He didn’t even count it as he pushed it into a bag
and then drove off.
Thryst’s house was modest by vislae standards, which basically
meant that it looked like a house. Her neighbor, a Weaver, had a
house covered in murals. Sometimes, the figures in the murals
would step out of them and look around.
She unlocked the front door and walked in. Greta and Charles
followed, both of them making signs as they did. Thryst
recognized the one he made. It was potent.
“Before I left this morning,” Thryst told them, “it was in my
closet. Just listen for the laughter.”
The three of them walked silently around the house. Greta
pulled a handheld lamp from her bag and turned it on. “Aethyric,”
she whispered to Charles, who nodded.
“I haven’t seen it take spiritual form,” Thryst said. “It’s always
been material. Just in different shapes.”
“There!” Charles pointed.
A potted plant by the window slowly transformed into a squat,
broad-faced thing with eyes all the way around its hairless head. It
laughed and ran toward the kitchen.
“Wait,” Greta said, holding up a hand. She turned to Thryst
and stared her right in the eyes. Only then did Thryst notice that
within her blue irises floated pupils the shape of coiled serpents.
“You summoned that?”
Thryst just nodded.
“That’s a very powerful entity,” Greta said.
“But Thryst is only an initiate of the mysteries,” Charles said.
“How powerful?”
“Far greater than any 1st-degree Goetic could ever hope to
conjure. There’s something bigger going on here.”
“What does that mean?” Thryst couldn’t keep the waver from
her voice.
“It means that this might not be your fault,” Charles told her.
Greta began shining the light all around the walls and furniture.
Charles stared where the light shone, as if expecting to see
something specific.
Thryst pointed at the kitchen. “But what about the demon?”
6
They didn’t reply. Thryst took a few tentative steps and peered
into the next room. The ugly little thing squatted next to the sink,
gnawing on a sponge.
Emboldened by the presence of the others, she took an action
she had been too afraid to try before and cast a quick spell,
hurling its energies toward the beast.
The magic splashed across the demon’s fat belly like a shot glass
of water. It giggled.
Well, that didn’t work.
“Aha!” Greta’s voice came from the living room. Thryst rejoined
them, but looked over her shoulder at the demon every few steps.
The aethyric light shone on a part of the wall next to the
fireplace. It revealed a terrible cyst in the wall. Greta moved the
light away, and then back again. Without the aid of the lamp, the
tumor-like mark was invisible.
“Just as I feared. It’s your house.”
Thryst’s eyes widened. “My house?”
“It’s a sort of magical virus going around,” Charles said, his
eyes trained on the cyst. “It’s from the Red. It calls and empowers
demons. More powerful entities substitute themselves when
lesser ones are called. Unbound, they’re free to wreak havoc or do
whatever they want.”
“It’s called the Red Seepage.”
Ew.
“My house has something called . . . Red Seepage?”
“I’m afraid so.” Charles’s face showed her how serious this was.
“I can get rid of your demon,” Greta announced. “It won’t be too
much trouble. But I can’t help you with this.”
Thryst followed Charles through the Celestial Bazaar. He
walked with purpose, and she just tried to keep up.
Greta had banished the demon, as promised. Thryst had paid
her, although it took every magecoin she’d managed to get her
hands on. Now here they were in the bustling market of the city
and she didn’t know exactly what they were looking for, or, just as
significant, how much it would cost.
Dead angels, but she hated the bazaar. Crowded and noisy.
People in the stalls kept yelling at her to come over and look at
their wares. Didn’t they realize that for some people, that was the
surest way to drive them away?
Not that she could have stopped to browse anyway. Charles was
moving fast through the crowd. That, at least, she could appreciate.

Finally, he walked up to a wooden kiosk covered in herbs,
fetishes, trinkets, and amulets suspended on thin chains from
hooks and nails. “This is the place.”
“This is the place indeed,” the man in the kiosk said. “You are
clearly an intelligent fellow!” The salesman stood a head taller
than Charles, and the left side of his body seemed entirely covered
in tattoos of signs and symbols. Thryst recognized some of them.
Wards, mostly.
A small dog sat on the ground next to him, chewing on
something. Well, not a dog. It had a head that looked a bit more
like an owl. Or maybe a squid.
“A man of discerning taste,” the large man continued, but
Charles held up a hand.
“There’s no need for that. I’m looking for tryber crystals, and
maybe some kallath. Do you have it?”
“Ah, well, let’s see. There’s been a demand for tryber lately.
Makers looking to use it as a catalyst. Why, there’s one friend of
mine, he’s crafting a—”
“So you don’t have any tryber crystal,” Charles said.
“Oh, I didn’t say that.” The tattooed man dug around beneath
the counter he’d been leaning against. The dog-thing ignored
them all and kept chewing.
Then the salesman straightened up, some red and green crystal
shards in his palm. “It’s just that they’re in demand.”
“And demand increases prices.”
“Well, that is the way the world works. I half promised these
to—”
“Just tell me how much, and then tell me you’re going to throw
in the kallath for no extra charge.”
The man laughed. “I like you!”
Charles half smiled and nodded. “I know. You said that last
time.”
“Oh, a returning customer! Well, then, perhaps just five
magecoins to reward your loyalty.”
Thryst put a hand on Charles’s arm. “I don’t have that.”
Charles waved his hand gently. “It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”
“I can’t have you pay. I’m already indebted to you for your time
and attention. I can’t be indebted to you financially too.” And, she
thought, it’ll take me months to come up with five magecoins.
Charles reached into his pocket, pulled out the large coins, and
handed them to the vendor. “And the kallath too.”
The tattooed man shrugged and nodded.
Charles turned to Tryst while the salesman packaged up their
purchase. “Thryst, this is going to deal with the Red Seepage.”
More Than One
“I know. But maybe I can just live with it until I can afford this
stuff myself.”
“No. Even if you did, you couldn’t summon anything in your
house in the meantime, and you’re a Goetic. That will never do.
But worse, the infection will spread to other vislae houses. This is
like a virus. It’s serious.”
The vendor handed Charles the package. “And tell your friends
this is where to get only the finest—”
“Yes, I will. Thank you.” The two of them walked away. “And
as for owing me anything, that’s all wrong too. If anything, I’m
indebted to you. We all are.”
What?
“I don’t understand.”
“You see, we forget about it sometimes—we get lost in the
specifics. The trees but not the forest, you know? But it comes
down to the Invisible Church. We don’t always all get along. One
order thinks one thing, another order believes differently. And
there are other factions and groups dividing us even more finely.
But the truth is, we all have to work together, at least on a basic
level. When something like the Red Seepage comes along, it’s our
duty to bring it to the attention of someone who can help stop it
before it spreads. You did precisely the right thing coming to me,
Thryst.”
Thryst felt a little unsteady on her feet. She hadn’t seen this
coming.
“I’m going to make sure the right people in the order know
about this. It’s going to help your advancement. Should make the
path to 2nd degree pretty easy.”
Thryst beamed.
“Now, let’s get this back to your house. We’ll have to talk to your
neighbors and find out if they’re experiencing any of this as well.
Will you help me with that?”
“Um, of course.”
On the way back to Fartown through the memory gate, Thryst
dwelled on the idea of the Invisible Church. Order of Goetica
aside, she didn’t really like to think of herself as a member of, well,
anything. She rolled her eyes so much at her fellow vislae sometimes
that some people she knew assumed she’d go Apostate eventually.
But the connection between them all, the feeling of cooperation, well,
she could see how they could all benefit from that. With the dangers
and strangeness of the world—particularly the world of magic—
community was likely the only way they’d survive.
“I’m still not going to a lot of parties,” she finally said aloud.
Charles nodded as if he understood.
7
 Secrets of Silent Streets
S
atyrine is the City of Notions. The Heart of
Indigo. The City of Truth. The Center of
the Real World.
Different people know the city from different
perspectives.
Like any metropolis you’re familiar with in
Shadow, it’s not just one city, but many. You can’t
know the whole place, even if you live there your
whole life. A vislae in Fartown and a wealthy
businessperson in the Marquis Quarter both live
Throughout this book, you’ll see page
references to various items accompanied
by the following symbols and colors. These
are page references to books within the
Black Cube, where you can find additional
details about that item, place, creature,
or concept. It isn’t necessary to look up
referenced items in the books, but doing
so will provide useful information for
character creation and gameplay.
THE WAY THE PATH
THE KEY THE GATE
10
A their whole lives in Satyrine, but those are very
different lives. And just as different is the life of the
factory worker in Rivenhome or the unemployed
veteran in the Hollows. These people have few
shared experiences and conjure very different
mental images when they say the name of the city
in which they live.
I’m not going to describe for you every building,
or even every street or neighborhood. The city is
huge—intentionally so. It’s easier to create in prep
or on the fly without having to memorize the layout
of the entire city and every location in it. The places
I’ll describe aren’t the totality, just landmarks or
useful bits to put in your narrative. But just as
useful are the places in between that you create,
probably out of necessity in response to a need
sparked by a player’s character arc.
THE WAY
Spider Whisper, page 93 The PC wants to learn the Spider Whisper secret?
Oh, well then, they have to talk to so-and-so, who
lives on such-and-such street. If you want, you can
pull so-and-so out of this book. If you don’t, you can
make so-and-so up on the spot. Either way, there’s
room for it in Satyrine.
To that end, every district has its own chapter in
this book, filled with locations and characters to use
in your narratives.
Each chapter attempts to describe the mood
and tone of its district. This is a shorthand way to
convey the general idea and the feeling of the place,
for every district is different. In many ways, each
district could be thought of as its own distinct town
or city with its own essence. The Marquis Quarter is
a wealthy area with grand structures. The Hollows
is a poverty-stricken slum. The Confederacy of
Cloisters is filled with churches and convents.
 The City of Notions

And so on. The fact that each district is separated

from the others by the Ruined Expanses makes its
distinct nature even clearer.
Every district has a sample neighborhood, and
thus a sample gerent (person in charge) of the
neighborhood. If you need a neighborhood for a
location quickly, use the one presented in this book.
If you want to use it as an example and create your
own, that works too. The exact number and names
of Satyrine’s neighborhoods is intentionally kept
vague to give you flexibility. But assume that every
district has somewhere between ten and twenty
such neighborhoods.
Every district has a handful of locations and
people. These are not complete listings, obviously.
They aren’t even necessarily the most prominent
places or characters. But they’re all immediately
usable in your narrative.
Last, every district has a story. This is something
you can insert into your narrative if you want to
steer a night’s session in a particular way and
introduce something surprising, perhaps outside
the scope of the characters’ arcs. Even though
Invisible Sun is a player-driven game, there’s
still plenty of opportunity for the GM to interject
surprises. But honestly, most of the stories here
are built to be woven into a character’s arc, if that’s
desired. The player might want a particular thing,
but the stories here will help you provide interesting
ways for them to reach that goal.

Skytower
11
 Secrets of Silent Streets
WATER RIDERS
Virot sells bicycles that can ride on the surface of
water. He is a black-haired man of average height
with thick glasses. The bicycles work normally on
land or water, although if the rider stops on the
water, the bicycle sinks. Each bike costs 25 crystal.
Virot also repairs bicycles and sells parts.
PEOPLE OF THE
CELESTIAL BAZAAR
In addition to the vendors above, here are a few
people found in the Celestial Bazaar.
THE FIREWITCH
Performing an act that is exactly as dangerous as it
appears, the woman known only as the Firewitch
conjures gouts of fire of different colors and shapes
that obey her every command. A musician named
Oilan, who calls himself the Purple Piper, often
accompanies her performances with dramatic
44
Virot: level 4
Kaladiasi Fuur: level 8;
+2 Resist; +3 social
interaction
The Firewitch: level 8;
magic (two successes),
+2 defenses; +2 performance;
can produce fire at a whim
and can control any fire that
she conjures, as long as it is
within long range
Oilan, the Purple Piper:
level 4; +1 Resist;
+2 performance and music
music that seems like far more than what most
people could produce with just a flute.
The Firewitch dresses provocatively and scantily
to garner even more attention, but what she does
wear is unsurprisingly red, yellow, and orange. At
any time, she can create a halo of fire around her
head or her whole body. Also unsurprisingly, Oilan
dresses in all shades of purple.
KALADIASI FUUR
Overseeing the entire Celestial Bazaar is a daunting
task, but Kaladiasi Fuur would never admit such a
thing. She’s extremely capable, but just as extremely
arrogant.
Kaladiasi is almost never seen without a retinue
of assistants, guards, and lackeys. An elderbrin
follows her and writes down everything she says.
She dresses practically but impeccably. She’s also
very old, sustained by magic and granted youth by
the changeries.
 The Celestial Bazaar

MOIRIS THE BALLADEER Stangre: level 7; with work. The man is Stangre, a middle-aged
A busker of no small talent, Moiris sets up his +2 defenses; +1 crafting fellow with a blue mustache and a wide-brimmed
guitar in busy parts of the marketplace and plays and persuasion; can teleport hat. The overworked fellow has noticed the PCs’
himself or others to his
and sings songs of his own creation, usually about “supplier”
interest in his wares and says, “Hello, friends. As
funny or moving things that happened in the bazaar you can see, it’s a very busy day. My assistant is ill
in the past. He has one of those faces that seems and couldn’t come to work. If you are willing to give
eternally young, but a bit of grey in his hair betrays Moiris the Balladeer: me a hand, I’ll give you what you’ve got your eye on
the fact that he’s older than he might appear. Almost level 7; +1 Dodge and for free.”
anyone in the Celestial Bazaar can relate that he’s Resist; +2 performance and Stangre says he needs them to go to his supplier
songwriting, +1 persuasion
been playing there for many years. and perception
and get something. It’s a mystical ingredient or
something similar that’s appropriate to his business
URAMULPUR (which is determined by the GM to suit the PCs’
One of the most influential elderbrin in the city, needs or wants). He says that what he needs is a
Uramulpur seemingly knows everything occurring Uramulpur: level 11; magic light in his supplier’s eye. He’s cagey about further
with his kind, and he is even connected with those (two successes), +2 defenses; details.
that have broken from their families’ ranks. He also +3 social interaction;
various special powers,
wields powers that most people do not associate including mind control,
LIGHT SHINING IN THE EYE
with elderbrin, leading some to believe he is telepathy, and teleportation If the PCs agree, Stangre thanks them and waves
actually a vislae. his hand, and suddenly the PCs are all falling from
a great height. They get a brief glimpse that they are
YULESSES falling into what appears to be a colossal eye, which
Yulesses isn’t a vendor, but an accountant and Yulesses: level 6; magic just might be in a colossal face (but there’s little
banker who caters to the vendors in the bazaar. He (two successes), −1 time to confirm that).
has an office in one of the permanent buildings Withstand and Dodge, +2 The PCs splash down into deep water, unharmed,
Resist; +3 accounting and
and lives in an apartment above. He’s an older finance; produces magical
but the water is actually a part of the giant eye. In
man, probably once broad and muscular but now a flux of a random level and the distance, they see what appears to be a round
bit stooped, with grey hair and a slight limp. He’s nature at random times island in the middle of this calm sea, but it is of
well liked and well respected, but it’s unlikely that course the pupil of the eye. A lighthouse stands on
anyone other than a resident of the district would The GM should have the unmoving pupil, and they must make their way
ever have reason to interact with him except for one Stangre sell whatever it to it either by swimming or other means that they
thing—Yulesses should have been a vislae. Now, in is the PCs are interested provide. The lighthouse is, obviously, the light in
in. If they’re hungry, it’s
the later years of his life, his inherent sorcery leaks food. If they’re in need
the supplier’s eye that Stangre spoke of. Swimming
out to produce unexpected and usually unwanted of decor for their houses, to the pupil takes 30 to 40 minutes and is an
results. he’s got beautiful and exhausting affair.
He’s interested in finding some actual vislae who interesting stuff. If they’re Climbing up onto the pupil feels like climbing
might be able to help him in some way. shopping for ephemera, onto glass. It’s smooth but not particularly slick, and
that’s what he sells.
there’s a gentle slope up the convex “island.” The
lighthouse is a bit more than a hundred feet (30 m)
A CELESTIAL Is the eye (and its owner) high, with a single door at its base. The door is open
BAZAAR STORY fantastically huge, or when the PCs approach. PCs who can fly can easily
Sometimes we all just need a hand. have the PCs been shrunk reach the top directly.
down to minuscule size?
The PCs are in the Celestial Bazaar, most likely There may be no way to
shopping. At a particular stall a man selling find out for certain.
something of interest to them appears swamped

45
 Secrets of Silent Streets
“W
elcome to Fartown,” says no sign
anywhere. Fartown folk don’t
like tourists and they don’t like
sightseers, even though there are many, many
sights to see. You either belong there and you’re
part of the whimsical, magical cacophony of chaos,
or you don’t, and you’re not.
It’s always autumn in Fartown. The air is always
crisp and cool. The leaves are always turning color
and just starting to fall from the trees.
There are two stories to explain why Fartown
lies forever in the sway of autumn. The first is that
a curse from a vengeful warlock grips the district
forever in a time of dying, yet never allowing it to
reach death. The second says that it was a blessing
from a satisfied god seeking to end an oppressively
long and terrible summer’s heat with cool breezes
and shorter days. It’s possible—even likely—that
neither of these is true. Each seems to rely on the
storyteller’s or the listener’s opinion of autumn.
Fartown gains its name from the fact that it does
not lie in the same physical dimension as the rest
of the city. Long before the War, the Deathless
Triumvirate placed the district that would become
Fartown in its own half-world, which they created
to contain dangerous magic and those who would
wield it. They designed it to be a place where the
city’s so-called “on-the-cusp” sorcerers, witch-
touched, and houngan (or whatever vislae were
calling themselves back then) could practice their
arts without endangering everyone else. Even
today, Fartown is home to many experimenters,
concoctors, and summoners, any of whom could
bring the reality of Satyrine crashing down around
them with their half-finished spells, experimental
74
G concoctions, or barely controlled otherworldly
menaces.
Fartown’s population is likely about 100,000
people, and probably around half of those are
vislae. With so much spellcasting and magic use
occurring in one district in the city on an almost
continual basis, it’s a wonder that Fartown remains
in existence at all.
THE PATH Travelers reach Fartown through a large archway
Narrow Sannyasa River, located beside the Narrow Sannyasa River, opposite
page 94 the Hollows. It’s never locked or guarded, but many
people believe that it’s impossible to pass through
Angular Serpentine,
without it being noted and recorded by the Angular
page 66
Serpentine. There is no feeling of transition when
you pass through this arch, so it’s easy to forget that
Hollows, page 94 one has actually passed into another world entirely.
MOOD AND FEEL
In Fartown, every building is a story, and every
story is surreal. Sprawling mansions sit next to
tiny, crooked houses. Twisting towers reach to a
Deathless Triumvirate, sky filled with living hot-air balloons, giant moths,
page 19 and inexplicably floating people. A 1960s New York
Yellow Cab drives down the street past a fish-headed
man selling newspapers. This is the most surreal
part of a surreal city.
It is autumn. Always autumn.
Fartown is the vislae district. And it suits them well.
Fartown exists as a 5-mile (8 km) long mass
of solid ground with trees and grass as well as
streets and buildings. However, at the edges of its
Ruined Expanses, page 208 perimeter, beyond sections of Ruined Expanses,
space and time become blurry and seep slowly into
an unknown elsewhere. This border is called the
Fartown

75
 Secrets of Silent Streets

THE PATH
LOCATIONS IN THE Strangeglass District, aged man with scars on his neck and silver-grey
STRANGEGLASS DISTRICT page 77 eyes. Natanal—Nat to his friends—was a protégé of
The following locations can be found in the General Cherevon Kol, a former leader of the order
Strangeglass District. Prosody, page 69 who kept the group tight and focused. Nat took
on the mantle of leadership after Kol disappeared
COIFFURE EXTRAVAGANCE Marcus Errant: level 3; during the War. The loss of Kol caused the order to
Marcus Errant makes no apologies for the +4 hairstyling devolve into its current, far more casual status.
audacious name of his establishment or the prices Kallie: level 4; +2 Resist;
he charges. He and his staff produce some of the +3 poetry, +2 business KALLIE’S
most elaborate and beautiful hairstyles seen in the Trent Coyal III: level 3; One of the best-known prosodies, Kallie’s caters
city. +3 pharmaceuticals, to the businesspeople of Strangeglass as well as to
Coiffure Extravagance is a fantastic place to gather +2 shopkeeping poetry fans who come from other districts to enjoy
information about the latest comings and goings of Therian Newell: the verbal treats offered here.
the upper classes without going to an upper-class level 8; magic (two Kallie’s main stage is a theater in the round,
area of the city. The wealthy and trendy are willing successes), +3 defenses; where table seating is offered—while food isn’t
+4 law and persuasion,
to make the trip to this district for Marcus. +2 stealth; vislae with many
served (obviously), a variety of teas and coffees are.
spells; +2 spellcasting There are two smaller stages.
COYAL PHARMACY Kallie herself is a poet, although she very rarely
The Coyal family has owned and operated this The Revelation, page 99 goes on stage. She’s young, smart, and driven.
pharmacy for three generations, and the current
manager, Trent Coyal III, is a good businessman. Gielis the ghost: level 6; THE LAW OFFICES OF NEWELL,
Unfortunately, his grandfather had a secret, which immune to physical effects; KEMPER, AND BUNDT
he buried in the business—literally. The body of a +3 Resist; −2 perception; Therian Newell is head of this legal firm, which
move through matter; move
man he killed in a crime of passion is buried in the things with psychokinesis
works primarily for one of the powerful organized
walls of the pharmacy. Now the ghost of the man, crime syndicates in Satyrine, called by most the
Gielis, has finally gained the experience and the Verdun Kemper: level 6; Revelation. Therian is a vislae as well and uses
power to make himself known (it takes some ghosts +2 defenses; +2 law and magic in his research, including divinations to help
a long time). Gielis searches for the elder Coyal, research, +1 persuasion him plan for defense strategies. He’s never lost a
not realizing he’s been in the Pale for more than a case.
decade. Over time, Gielis grows more confused and Alicia Bundt: level 6; Verdun Kemper and Alicia Bundt are not vislae,
violent. +3 Dodge, +1 Resist; +2 law but capable lawyers. Alicia is particularly ruthless
and deception, +1 attacks and never hesitates to stoop to illegal or even bloody
with poisoned knife (level
HALL OF HONED THOUGHT 6 poison deals 1 additional
tactics if she believes it will help her.
The district is the home of the headquarters of Wound) The office is large and well appointed, but not
the Order of Honed Thought. This long, low showy. Three clerks and five thoughtform assistants
building with an elaborate entrance is marked by an are always on hand.
acheiropoieta said to have seeped from the dream of THE PATH
Order of Honed Thought,
a sleeping god. Members are to recite the mantra of page 118
MARIONETTE HOTEL
honed thought before entering. True to its current A large, well-appointed, and comfortable hotel, the
nature as a social club, the hall is mostly just a Marionette has a good reputation as a safe and clean
firelit, members-only bar. Some offices and the like Natanal Vig: level 7; place to stay with a friendly staff. The hotel appears
remain in the back. +2 Withstand and Dodge, to rise eight floors above the street, making it one
The current leader of the order, and the occupant +5 Resist; +2 social of the taller buildings in the district. What many
interaction
of one of those offices, is Natanal Vig, a middle- people don’t know, however, is that the hotel has

176

Malani Maleago
an entire secret ninth floor of rooms for rent. It is Rellis Awen: level 7;
literally invisible from the outside and impossible to +2 defenses; +2 persuasion
and deception; can see
reach from the inside without a proper key. People through up to 6 inches
desire these rooms when they’re in hiding or need (15 cm) of any material
to meet clandestinely with someone. The entire
floor is proof against divinations of all sorts (level 13 Consortium security:
level 5; +2 defenses;
and lower). +3 Armor; +2 perception
Niles Chorulan manages the hotel and entrusts its
secrets with very few. He’s a churlish, surprisingly
THE PATH
young man who smokes invisible cigarettes (that Zilat, page 124
produce visible smoke).
A typical room at the Marionette costs 50 crystal Niles Chorulan: level 6;
each night. A room on the ninth floor costs 200 +3 Resist; thanks to
crystal each night. special enchantments, he
is immune to magic that
compels or controls his mind
OFFICE OF THE EMOTION
MILLS CONSORTIUM Malani Maleago: level 5;
This massive building looks more like a palace than magic (two successes),
+7 defenses; +3 business
an office building. It serves as the headquarters
and persuasion; +5 Armor;
of all businesses having to do with the creation, sports a number of magical
transportation, and sales distribution of emotions. All defenses that make her very
Consortium business is conducted within these walls. difficult to harm
The Strangeglass District
Rellis Awen runs the office. She is a sophisticated
businessperson in an impeccable suit that can
change colors and styles based on her wishes. She’s
also a zilat, with the ability to see through matter
when she concentrates, but only her very closest
confidantes know this to be the case.
The Consortium employs a private security staff
that is like their own small army, and they are based
here.
MALEAGO INSURANCE
This large round building floats on a round pool.
The building is surrounded by red swans that
live in the pool. It serves as the headquarters for
Satyrine’s only insurance company. Maleago insures
property against damage and loss, and recently
started offering life insurance policies (coming
back from the dead causes problems, obviously, but
contingencies for that are worked into the policy).
Malani Maleago is the wealthy head of the
company. She is always accompanied by a pair of
red swans and bears red swan feathers on various
177
 Secrets of Silent Streets
I
RNDXPNS
t’s easy to forget, but to get from one district to
another, at least in most cases, one must pass
through some amount of what are known as the
Ruined Expanses. About half of the city lies in ruins
from the War. Whole districts were wiped out, and
almost every district was at one time much larger.
Buildings were damaged or completely pulverized
by powerful weapons, fire, or rampaging warbeasts.
Other sections are relatively intact, but the buildings
now lie in decay from years of abandonment when
tens of thousands of people fled the conflict.
Years ago, right after the War ended, things were
worse. Almost every part of the city was damaged
in some way. But rebuilding efforts have repaired
many structures and erected entirely new ones.
Certain districts, like the Reinvention, are entirely
new, built after the War amid what was once
nothing but ruin.
Rebuilding is made all the more difficult by
leftover remains of weapons used in the War,
today called Hate Cysts. These cancerous things,
deeply embedded into the ruins, fester and seethe
in secret, thwarting attempts to restore the ruins
around them through terrible but varied means.
The Hate Cysts spread disease, discontent, and
depression. They cause machines to seize up, crane
cables to snap, scaffolding to collapse, and other
accidents to happen. And then, most overtly—and
most terrifyingly—they spawn terrible beings and
mutate existing creatures that prey upon mortals
who enter the expanses.
The Ruined Expanses are not safe, and while the
Hate Cysts exist, they cannot be made safe. Rooting
out and destroying a single Hate Cyst allows for
rebuilding to occur, but only in that immediate
210
T vicinity. No one, however, has figured out a solution
other than finding and eliminating them one by
one. And the task is exceedingly dangerous. It’s
THE PATH probably a task only for vislae, and even then only
The War, page 65 the most skilled and powerful vislae.
HATE CYSTS
Hate Cysts are the remnants of the terrible weapons
unleashed in the War. Like malignant tumors, they
spread if left unchecked. They hide in the ruins of
their own making so they can spread their influence
secretly.
Every cyst is different. Some have a sentience all
their own, while others seem to be raw emotion
and pure power fused together in the worst of ways.
Reports from those who have encountered them
directly vary, but accounts include diseased, organic
masses as large as a small building, swirling holes
of darkness, and fluctuating nodes of destructive
energies. The cysts are often buried in rubble,
but sometimes they lie within the empty shells
of ruined buildings or underground, beneath the
wreckage above.
Most often, Hate Cysts aren’t seen at all—only
their effects. Some of the crimes against nature that
the cysts perpetrate include:
✦✦ inducing terrifying hallucinations or
nightmares
Cyst spawn, page 212 ✦✦ spawning horrific monstrosities
✦✦ influencing or even controlling minds to
commit heinous acts
✦✦ mutating creatures into deformed beings
✦✦ unleashing diseases and curses
✦✦ altering probability to cause deadly “accidents”

The Deathless Triumvirate offers a standing bounty
of 100 gem orbs for proof of the destruction of a Hate
Cyst, with the idea that once a cyst is removed, that
portion of the Ruined Expanse can be reclaimed and
rebuilt. (Attempting to do so with a cyst still present
and active leads only to death and dismay.)
MOOD AND FEEL
These regions of desolation and neighborhoods
of destruction are like stretches of apocalyptic
wilderness dividing many of the intact districts.
Traveling from one district to another often involves
passing through one of the expanses, and doing so
can be dangerous.
Explosion craters, empty buildings, partially
collapsed structures, soaring mounds of rubble,
debris-choked streets that create dead ends, and
more kinds of wreckage fill the expanses. In some
areas, plants have overgrown the ruins. Others are
lifeless without a hint of green. Some areas are
flooded while others are as dry as a desert.
The Ruined Expanses
Deathless Triumvirate, In some expanses, paths have been cleared
page 19 through the rubble, or simply blazed through and
over the wreckage, to facilitate travel across the ruin.
But make no mistake—these locales are not yet
reclaimed. They are dangerous and unpredictable
for many reasons. The architecture is unstable,
brigands and thieves make their lairs there, and
THE PATH creatures like ratgoblins and roachgoblins lurk
Ratgoblins, page 131 around every corner. Ghosts of those killed in the
War roam the streets. But more than that, the Hate
Roachgoblins, page 132
Cysts are still quite active.
One strange effect of the cysts is the oppressive
gloom that hangs over the ruins. No matter the
weather or season elsewhere in the city, entering one
of the Ruined Expanses brings on an almost cave-like
atmosphere. Many people think of the ruins as being
underground and even describe the grey ceiling
overhead, though there is no literal truth to it.
Walking through the ruins, one finds the rubble-
choked streets and empty piazzas unsettlingly quiet,
even in a city as sedate at Satyrine.
211