INHABITABLE

DREAMS

A ONE SESSION TOURNAMENT FOR

FOUR PLAYERS
 ORIGINALLY WRITTEN AND PRESENTED AT ARCANACON X,
MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA, 1992, FOR THE FOURTH EDITION OF
CHAOSIUM’S ROLEPLAYING GAME STORMBRINGER.
THIS ADVENTURE IS SET IN THE YEAR 400 Y.K. PRIOR TO ELRIC OF
MELNIBONÉ’S SUCCESSION TO THE RUBY THRONE.

Fair winds carry a ravenous evil to Dhakos, City of Spires.

King Dharmit’s capital of Jharkor is raw and bustling – soon
it will be rawer still. Silver Leopards will die beneath the
tiger’s claws as screams drift like seagulls over the once
busy harbor. What burdens drove the slave-artist Halig to
suicide by self-mutilation so soon after painting a bloody
portent of his own demise? What nightmares and dreams of
empire stir in the shadows and devour the waking world?

THIS EDITION © RICHARD WATTS, 2019. REFORMATTED AND UPDATED TO

STORMBRINGER 5TH EDITION BY MARCUS D. BONE. INHABITABLE DREAMS WAS FIRST MADE
AVAILABLE VIA STORMBRINGERRPG.COM, VERSION 1.0, JUNE 2019.
 INTRODUCTION: 2019
EVISITING A WORK one originally wrote manuscript – something I still think needs greater

R some 27 years ago is an unusual experience.

It brings back memories of devouring comic
books as frequently as I was ingesting
psychedelics and reminds me that I have neither
emphasis in role playing today. Visibility matters.
Inhabitable Dreams was written in 1992, for the
Australian convention Arcanacon X, and has been
updated for 5th Edition Stormbringer by Marcus
the stamina, the obsessions, nor the hedonistic Bone, who also designed the PDF you are now
enthusiasm of my younger self. reading. It was written as I was immersing myself
Simultaneously, I can’t help but celebrate the in Michael Moorcock’s novels more intensely that
ambition and imagination of my younger self. I’m ever before, in preparation for the publication of a
also gobsmacked by my shameless ransacking of new and rebranded edition of the roleplaying
tropes from Grant Morrison’s stellar run on the DC game Stormbringer (eventually known as Elric!)
comic Doom Patrol – first and foremost the idea of the following year. I’d also contributed
a hungry painting (‘The Painting that Ate Paris’) significantly to sourcebooks such as Sorcerers of
but also the concept of invasion through art (the Pan Tang and Sea Kings of the Purple Times in the
parasite-universe of Orqwith, an endless city of preceding months. Consequently, there’s a level of
bone introduced in Morrison’s first four-part story detail, a degree of world-building in Inhabitable
for Doom Patrol). Dreams which delights me even now.
That said, at least I was following an established As the late, lamented Lynn Willis was to write in
precedent: Morrison’s first Doom Patrol four- his introduction to the Elric! rulebook in 1993: “I do
parter, ‘Crawling from the Wreckage,’ was itself a not dare guess that [Richard] knows more about
direct appropriation of the blind Argentinean the Young Kingdoms than Michael Moorcock, but
writer Jorge Borges’ short story, ‘Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis [he] has been living there a lot lately.”
Tertius’. To that end, I would like to dedicate this edition of
Re-reading Inhabitable Dreams after so long Inhabitable Dreams to Lynn, and to thank him one
means I’ve also sometimes winced at my clumsier final time for his advice, wisdom, and astute
passages. To that end I’ve tried to massage the text editorial eye – the latter still influences me as a
a little, making the tournament a smoother read writer today.
without watering down its original tone or
intensity.
In tweaking the text I’ve also chosen to add more
detail to some sections of the manuscript, in order Richard Watts
to bring greater life to the city of Dhakos and the
Melbourne, Australia, April 2019
nation of Jharkor, in case Game Masters might
wish to set further adventures there. Such
expansions draw upon my notes for The Atlas of
the Young Kingdoms Volume Three: The Western
Continent, which was never completed due to
Chaosium axing the Elric! line circa 1995.
Re-reading this tournament, I’m nonetheless
surprised at how well it stands up – it
demonstrates an authorial shift away from
constrictive linear narrative (a definite flaw in
some of my earlier Chaosium scenarios) and
features hot-blooded, vivid and dramatic scenes
which delight me even today. My then-insistence
on including queer characters at every
opportunity is also reflected in the original
 Gradually a crowd gathered on the piers and
wharves of the harbour, but from the Pan
Tangian vessel came not a sound or single
movement to suggest that any living soul
The first sighting of the sail was made by walked upon her decks…
fisherfolk, returning home, holds laden with
their gleaming, scaled catch. Black as night
and old Chaos they said the sail was, the
ship’s lines sleek and cruel and edged with
PAN TANG HUNGERS for fresh territories,
gold.
further conquests. In Dharijor that conquest
Once the fishing fleet put into the harbor,
was military, in Pikarayd secretive. The
reports of the sighting of a Pan Tangian
events portrayed in this tournament present
trireme spread quickly throughout Dhakos.
a new attack by Pan Tang, one launched and
Fear followed in the rumour’s wake.
controlled via dark sorceries.
Innocents and fools asked if perhaps the Pan
The target is the city of Dhakos, capital of
Tangians came for trade. Scarred veterans
Jharkor in the Western Continent. The four
who had seen firsthand the horrors
characters – all high-ranking members of
unleashed upon the Young Kingdoms by the
Jharkorian society, including Princess
sorcerers of that black isle laughed – not a
Yishana, the King’s sister – will be unwitting
pleasant sound. From harbour-side hovels to
witnesses to the attack’s opening salvo at the
the palace of the king, stories of Pan Tang
start of the tournament, as they stand
and her grim theocracy became a subject of
amidst a crowd that seethes with tension
constant conversation.
and rumour.
By late afternoon, when the lighthouse
Aboard the black ship which has moored in
keeper saw the black sail glide across the
Dhakos Harbour is a powerful envoy of Pan
horizon, the city’s people had worked
Pang, Viscount Kri’ag Malakian. An
themselves into a frenzy of fearful
ambassador of Jagreen Lern, the Theocrat of
anticipation.
the Church of Chaos, Malakian is delivering
Some whispered that the Pan Tangians were rare artworks to chosen Jharkorian nobles as
pirates, and that this gilded trireme surely sign of Lern’s favour – the worship of Chaos
came leading a fleet of mad-eyed reavers to is no longer illegal in Jharkor thanks to King
loot and burn many-spired Dhakos and Dharmit’s recent decree and the Theocrat
enslave her citizens. Wiser heads counselled claims to be grateful.
peace, suggesting the Theocrat of Pan Tang
Although a powerful sorcerer and high-
had most likely sent this ship bearing rich
ranking priest of Xiombarg Sword-Queen,
tribute by way of thanking King Dharmit for
Viscount Malakian is smooth-tounged and
recently repealing the law that made Chaos-
unthreatening. When the Theocrat requires
worship illegal.
subtly and apparent charm rather than
As evening’s ruddy light stained the tattered threats and menances, he sends Malakian.
standards of the clouds – a flaming sunset Several treaties have already been signed in
warning – the black ship floated at anchor in Pan Tang’s favour thanks to the Viscount’s
Dhakos Harbour, dwarfed by the massed skills, not least several in Pikarayd.
Jharkorian navy moored nearby but with her
Arriving in Dhakos, seemingly on a goodwill
malignancy undiminished.
mission, Malakian is in reality the courier of
an occult artifact of dreadful power.
 Should the Theocrat’s plans be defeated, Pan
Tang retires to lick its wounds and seek
For this tournament, the adventurers are
stronger sorceries to aid its conquests – a
members of Jharkor’s upper echelons
strategy which will eventually result in the
including Princess Yishana and the powerful
end of the world, as detailed in Michael
Cardinal Damietta of Law. The Game Master
Moorcock’s epic and passionate Elric Saga.
is invited to familiarise herself with each
character and their foibles before beginning
play. Character biographies and character
sheets (including their impressions of one
another) appear at the end of this adventure.
BORN IN LORMYR, Halig of Alorasaz (356-395
Y.K.) was a genius and one of the greatest
artists the Young Kingdoms has ever seen. He
began speaking at one year old; by four years
A painting of the Pan Tangian capital,
old he was already painting and while his
Hwamgaarl, which becomes a gateway when
juvenilia is considered crude in comparison
activated is to be given to one of the player
to his later works, such pieces still sell for a
characters, the lowly Count Salan of Greal;
rich price in the art markets of Raschil,
his status at court conceals the importance
Menii, Kariss, Old Hrolmar and Karlaak.
of the gift.
Halig committed suicide by self-mutilation
Considered one of the famed slave-artist five years ago, in the year 395 Y.K., aged 39.
Halig’s lesser works (see the next section),
Among his best-known works is the marble
Hwamgaarl Tears Out the Eye of the Sun is an
statue known as ‘The Mirath of Iosaz’; a
arcane artwork which cannibalises
superb 40-foot high depiction of Mirath of
whatever city it resides in, once triggered –
Law which stands in the Necropolis of Iosaz,
in this case, once Malakian and his ship are
on the Southern Continent, and carved when
out of range. With the gateway active, piece
Halig was only 21.
by piece and place by place Dhakos will be
Already an exceptional artist in his youth,
consumed; replaced by an extension of
Halig was captured by raiding Pan Tangian
Hwamgaarl itself.
pirates aged 23, during a voyage to the Isle of
Six pieces of art (four for the player
the Purple Towns, where he had been
characters, two for significant NPCs) will be
commissioned to paint a fresco in the great
delivered by Malakian; all are dangerous but
Guildhouse of Utkel.
only Hwamgaarl Tears Out the Eye of the Sun
Halig’s skills as an artist were only
can potentially destroy the city – unless the
heightened during his time on Pan Tang,
adventurers destroy it first.
despite undergoing crippling torture at the
The players begin this adventure as
hands of the Chaos priests of Balan. Driven
onlookers when Count Malakian’s ship
half mad by the pain, and left unable ever to
arrives in harbour at sunset of Day One. They
walk again, Halig began to feverishly design
have until sunset of Day Two – just 24 hours
and create sculptures, buildings and
– to save Dhakos. After that, the City of Spires
paintings of breathtakingly beautiful,
becomes part of Hwamgaarl, beginning Pan
terrifyingly awful intensity. Most of these
Tang’s slow creep out across the world.
remain upon Pan Tang and are only ever
seen by the inhabitants of that grim isle.
After 10 years of hell on Pan Tang, Halig
escaped via a Virtue of Travel expressed in
the form of a painting. Appearing in thin air
above the congregation in a Ramasaz
cathedral, then falling screaming and
laughing upon them, did little for Halig’s
health – or state of mind. It did, however,
mark his return to fame – and the advent of
his most creative period to date. Six years
later he was dead.
The last few months of Halig’s life are now
the best documented. From a hospice in
Ramasaz he feverishly painted canvas after
canvas, screaming and laughing as he
twitched over the easel placed beside his bed.
Now hopelessly insane, Halig reached his
peak in the madhouse. The 171 paintings he
produced there – almost a painting a day –
and a handful of small but exquisite
sculptures are now jealously collected by the
nobles of the Young Kingdom’s more civilised
nations.
 WELCOME TO JHARKOR
HARKOR COMPETES WITH its fearsome Jharkor’s elite troops and the King’s guard,

J neighbour, Dharijor, for dominance of

the Western Continent and is one of the
Young Kingdoms’ greatest naval powers
are named after these wild beasts.
Another low mountain range spotted with
sparse forests defines the border of Jharkor’s
thanks to a mighty natural harbor, despite northernmost neighbor, Tarkesh. South of
having only a relatively small coastline to these mountains run a series of fortifications
call its own. Only the merchant fleets of and military bases, known collectively as
Ilmiora and the Purple Towns, the Tovik’s Wall and delineating the boundary
cumbersome Lormyrian navy and Dharijor’s with warlike Dharijor, Jharkor’s greatest
sleek, swift reavers rival Jharkor’s armada rival.
and its dominance of the five oceans –
Six provinces make up the Jharkorian
though all are dwarfed by the Battle Barges of
countryside: Dhakoria (which includes the
Melniboné on the increasingly rare
capital), Gharavia, Mygrava, Halorra,
occasions such vessels are seen outside the
northern Sequa (home to rippling wheat
Dragon Isle.
fields) and the Eastern Marches (where
Jharkor is a nation of endless golden incursions by Dharijorians are not
grasslands grazed by cattle and spotted deer, uncommon despite the heavily fortified
and low plains dotted with scrub and small border).
wooded hills. To the west the landmass rises
Jharkor exports
towards steeper
silks from
hills which grow
The sea foamed and rushed by as the oars Gharavia and
into slender,
Halorra, where
snow-capped, disrupted the surface, driving the ship
silk worms have
scarcely-populated swiftly towards the port of Dhakos, been farmed for
mountains. At
hundreds of
lower altitudes the capital of Jharkor, one of the most
years; grains –
mountains’ flanks powerful of the Young Kingdoms. especially from
are thick with
the lush wheat
forests of
The Singing Citadel, I, 1 fields of Sequa in
mahogany, teak
the north; spices
and laurel; on
such as pepper, cardamom, coriander,
higher slopes grow birch, pine and firs.
nutmeg and mustard seeds; lumber
Higher still grow wild rhododendron forests,
including teak and mahogany; and
their branches thick with moss and
mountain ores including silver and copper. It
overlooked by the mountains’ snowy peaks,
is a raw and bustling country compared to
where only lichens grow.
the sleepy nations of the South.
Fierce wildcats live in the mountains and
The Jharkorian plains are warm and dry, the
leopards prowl the forested foothills,
coastal regions cooler. Southern Jharkor
sometimes stalking out onto the plains, to
receives regular rainfall while the northern,
the dismay of farmers. The Silver Leopards,
eastern and western provinces are
considerably drier. Along the southern coast,
near Shazar, isolated pockets of mangroves
grow. Further north, especially around the
capital, the coast is dominated by low cliffs
and deep but narrow inlets where small
ships can easily be hidden. Rumour has it at
least one such inlet to the north of Dhakos is
home to a secret temple of the Chaos Lord
Pyaray, the Tentacled Whisperer of
Impossible Secrets, in whose honour terrible
rituals are held every king tide.
Jharkor is ruled by Law, but worship of Chaos
has recently been allowed within its borders.
King Dharmit sits on the throne, playing his
nobles off against one another endlessly.
The people of Jharkor have something of a
reputation for intrigue, which is considered
almost a national sport. The best thieves and
liars in the Young Kingdoms are said to be
Jharkorian (or Jharks, as they were known
in the distant past).
In summer the prevailing winds blow from
the north-east, bringing hot and dry weather
from Dharijor – as well as pirates and border
skirmishes, despite the peace treaty signed
by Dharijor with her neighbours. In winter,
southerly winds dominate, bringing heavy
rains and fogs from the Boiling Sea.
Jharkor’s lowlands are home to bears,
jackals, porcupines, mongoose and deer, as
well as a wide variety of snakes and
numerous lizards. Wild goats, deer, wolves
and squirrels make their home in the
mountain forests, as well as wildcats and
leopards, while freshwater crocodiles can be
found in some of the lakes of the Eastern
Marches – though they are more common in
Dharijor. Elsewhere fisherfolk catch eels,
roha (a silvery, sweet-fleshed species of
carp), tilapia, perch and catfish in Jharkor’s
lakes and rivers. Offshore, commonly caught
fish include salmon, mackerel, sardines and
red snapper.
Common birds include weaver birds, whose
nests often dangle from the branches of
thorn trees, lapwings, fantails, peacocks,
sunbirds, ring-necked parakeets and green
bee-eaters. Birds of prey include goshawks,
kestrels, black-shouldered kites, barn owls,
buzzards and Jharkorian spotted eagles – the
region’s largest bird of prey. Common water
birds include kingfishers, cormorants, petite
pink herons and storks. Storm-petrels,
shearwaters, terns and gulls are abundant
along the coast.
Beyond Jharkor’s borders to the north-west,
in the remote fastness of the mountains, are
the aeries of the Myyrrhn, winged folk who
are occasional visitors to Dhakos, though
more commonly seen in the outer provinces.
Rumours also speak of a mysterious
mountain city hewn from the living rock
somewhere deep within the mountains, but
few live who have seen it and most of them
are liars. Further west still are lands said to
be more arid than Jharkor, and hotter too,
but they are currently unmapped and
unexplored by all save a handful of foolhardy
adventurers.
To the north-east is Dharijor, the most
powerful nation in the West, ruled by cruel
King Sarosto. The peace treaty signed
between Dharijor, Jharkor and Tarkesh
means little – Dharijor’s black-plumed
warriors raid with impunity along the coast,
and their incursions into the Eastern
Marches, occasionally even into Sequa, are
becoming increasingly brazen. To date there
have been no sign of Dharijor’s war
elephants in Jharkor; only horseman and
foot soldiers have crossed the border, but
doubtless the day will soon come when
Dharijor launches all out war upon its
neighbours, and Jharkor is ready for such an
eventuality. Dharijor’s major port,
Gromoorva, is a one and a half to two-day Hwamgaarl is five days distant across
journey from Dhakos by ship. treacherous seas. Few mariners visit that
Further north are the forests and fastnesses accursed city, at least of their own volition.
of Tarkesh, ruled by King Yaris, a tall, pale-
faced, thin-lipped man full of irony and
always a trifle insecure. After his death in the
Sack of Imrryr at the hands of a tavern- WINDSWEPT DHAKOS IS the sprawling capital
wench, Tarkesh is ruled by Yaris’s cousin, of Dhakos. Extending for several miles across
King Hilran. A swift shift can sail from the coastal plain towards a series of low hills
Dhakos to Banarva, the capital, in four days, and wide, shallow valleys that abut a slightly
if the captain is brave enough to hug the steeper and encircling range to the west, it is
coast of Dharijor and pass through the Straits an expansive city built up around Dhakos
of Chaos. Harbour, one of the best ports of the Young
South lies Shazar, a land of lush grasslands, Kingdoms.
rolling downs, thick fogs and mossy forests Flanked by low sea cliffs along the coast,
of ancient oaks and ash trees. Here, Dhakos is the capital of the province of
horseflesh is the dominant trade, and Dhakoria as well as Jharkor as a whole.
equestrian skills are raised to a high art – as Storms (including sudden downpours and
practiced by the little-known cult known as violent hailstorms) are common in the hot
the Order of the Vanguard, a band of knights- summers when the dry northerly winds
errant based in Aarlain, who venerate the collide with moister southern air masses,
Law Lord Callandus. One of Shazar’s most while winters are colder and wetter still.
famous residents Snow is virtually
is Ohada the Seer, “Your popularity with your subjects must unknown.
a famous oracle be at its lowest, madam.” Dhakos can be
and predictor of
“I do not care.” divided into three
events, who lives main parts: the
in Dioperda and “You will if your nobles lead the people in Harbour, the Old
whose services are insurrection and crucify you naked in the City, and
widely consulted. city square.” Newtown. The
The Shazarian “You are familiar with our customs.” spires of the Old
capital, Aflitain, is City at the heart of
“We are a learned folk, queen.”
some three to four Dhakos can be
days south of
Elric & Yishana, The Singing Citadel, I, 5 seen throughout
Dhakos, at the the city, and for
northern edge of the Serpents Teeth. some distance inland or out to sea.
South-west of Shazar are found the Marshes However, given the many small bays and
of the Mist, and beyond them the Silent Land, coves which fringe the Harbour proper,
of which the less said the better, while off the making direct travel across the city
Shazarian coast rise the Serpent’s Teeth, challenging and fragmenting Dhakos into a
where the winds and tides are unpredictable, city of many districts, Dhakosians are often
and the only the bravest and foolhardiest quicker to identity as a resident of their own
mariners sail. district first rather than as a resident of the
Jharkor’s other neighbor of note is the city proper – one of many factors which
Demon Isle of Pan Tang, whose capital
contributes to the fractured, internecine and
devious interactions of its citizens.
The Old City – the original Dhakos – is
encircled by a crumbling brick wall, long
outgrown and its guard-posts largely
abandoned. One such guard-post contains a
secret entrance to an ancient shrine to
Mabelode the Faceless, King of the Swords,
though its location is known to few and his
worshippers gather only at the dark of the
moon.
Inside the perimeter of the city wall is the
political and religious heart of Dhakos; home
to the Palace of King Dharmit, the Cathedral
of Law, and the still under-construction
Temple of Chaos.
Although Jharkor allegedly pays lip service to
Law, it amuses King Dharmit to allow Chaos
to establish a toehold in Jharkor. That way
the priests of Law plot against their rivals,
not him. Worship of Chaos was only recently
decriminalised though secret adherents of
Entropy have long haunted the many-spired
city.
In the Old City stand the buildings which give
Dhakos its name. Every second building here
seems to be peaked by spires, erected in
flattering imitation of Melniboné, Jharkor’s
ancient masters. Part of a fashion which
swept the country 250 years ago, the spires
are a crude copy of Imrryr to those who have
seen the Dreaming City, which was built by
artists and conceived as an artwork rather
than as a living metropolis erected by clumsy
human hands.
Dhakos is more workmanlike than Imrryr.
The Old City’s streets are narrow and never
straight, while the architecture – save for the
spires – is relatively austere, though
beautiful detailing brings life to archways,
window frames and niches, which house
representations of the White Lords or famous
scenes from Jharkorian history. Rooms are
open and high-ceilinged. Most buildings are
made of thin bricks covered in lime plaster,
with wooden shutters and doors, stone
floors, and brick pavements in the gardens.
The majority of buildings in the Old City are
traditionally square or rectangular and built
around a central garden, with more gardens
flanking their walls (more humble building
may feature a central pool which catches
rainwater). Exterior walls are largely
unadorned save for detailing, and are often
whitewashed or painted in a range of blues,
reds and yellows. Inside, balconies and
walkways flanked by colonnades look out
over the central garden and statues, frescos
and bas reliefs are commonly adorn the
internal walls. Fountains are common in the
central gardens, as are decorative birds like
peacocks (which are native to Jharkor) or
caged songbirds.
Such buildings stand at least three stories
high. Those of a certain age feature low,
square towers topped by spires rising above
the central courtyard at each corner of the
building. In older mansions the spires are
slumped and crumbling and no longer
maintained.
More recent buildings, often of only one or
two storeys, feature distinctive
superstructures built over the gardens to
support shorter, squatter towers; such spires
contain complex lattice-work to permit
sunshine to enter the building.
The newest buildings conform to the
dominant architectural style, but spires have
been long abandoned.
The oldest dwellings in Dhakos are hand-
carved caves in the rocky hills which make
up the central city; today many of these are
used as cellars or ossuaries for the houses
which have sprung up around them, though
a handful still exist in their original form.
Their residents today are usually servants or
wandering seers; no-one of status cares to
live in such structures today, despite the
detailed and beautiful carvings which adorn
their walls, doorways and narrow window
frames.
Every major street in the city, new or old, has
an open sewer flowing down its centre. In
the high heat of summer, the stench is vile,
and outbreaks of cholera are not uncommon.
Luckily the constant sea breezes carry the
worst of the odours away, except in the
narrow streets of the Old City. For this
reason, the majority of the nobility have
made an exodus to the city’s outskirts, to the
larger estates and gardens which ring
Dhakos.
At the heart of the Old City is the city square.
More than one king of Jharkor has died here,
crucified when the nobility led the people in
insurrection. Public crucifixions of criminals
are held here throughout the year; in
summer, the stink of rotting bodies mingles
nauseatingly with the city’s open sewers.
On the northern side of the square stands the
Temple of Law, which has only a single spire,
constructed of a beautiful, almost lace-like
network of stone tracery and supported by
stone buttresses arcing over the central
garden. Facing it is the Temple of Chaos,
which is still under construction on the
square’s southern side and which will boast
eight spires in total when complete.
On the west side of the city square stands the
Royal Palace, the bright flag of Jharkor flying
from its roof and the homes of painted and
powdered courtesans less than a stone’s
throw away.
A broad, curving avenue leading to the
harbor opens off the east side of the square;
the broadest boulevard in Dhakos, and a
relatively recent addition to the city. On its
north side stands the barracks of the Silver
Leopards, close to the palace but also well-
situated should an urgent sortie to the
harbor be required.
Also found in the Old City are the grand
houses of the nobility, though many now
stand empty. Most of the nobles have moved
to large estates at the edge of the city, in
search of cleaner and cooler air. Some of
their houses are now occupied by the
growing merchant class; others crumble
slowly into ruin.
As befits such a strong seafaring nation,
Dhakos Harbour is rivalled in size only by the
Dreaming City and the Fortress of Evening.
Heavily fortified in case of attack by Pan
Tangian or Dharijorian raiders, the harbour
mouth is flanked by two high guard towers
doubling as lighthouses and armed with
ballistae and catapults, as well as many
archers. The naval barracks occupy an entire
district of Harbourside, bordering the
shipyards.
The harbour’s shores are lined with wharves,
piers, shipyards, warehouses, brothels,
fisher-villages and boats of every variety –
with more than half the harbour dominated
by the ships of the Jharkorian navy.
Merchant vessels are also plentiful.
Several small islands dot the harbour, the
largest of which is home to the Temple of
Tovik Victorious, a Lord of Law. According to
legend, this island – his most sacred shrine
– was the site of an ancient battle between
Tovik and the Chaos Duke Mabelode, almost
five thousand years ago. After a long fight
Tovik was eventually victorious. He threw
Mabelode down with such force that his fall
ruptured the earth, allowing the ocean to
flood in and creating the Bay of Dhakos. The
island, formerly a mountain, was all that
remained above water after the floods
subsided. See the University of Cadsandria
monograph Lords of Law for more
information.
Districts around the Harbour include
Cheapside, Port-Town (the mercantile
district), Crows-Nest (a raised area on the
northern side of the harbor popular amongst
retired seamen), The Stews (a notorious
slum), Shipyards (where naval vessels are
built and sailors congregate), Boatyards (one
of several districts dominated by fishing
fleets), Fokesule (a small hill on the
southside, where privateers congregate) and
Eight-Bells, dominated by the temple of
Straasha and churches dedicated to a
number of the Lords of Law, Arkyn Tide-Lord,
Mirath, Goldar and Mardek of the Full Urn.
Streets throughout the Harbour district are
wide and winding, and routinely clogged
with foot traffic, riders, and horse and ox-
carts laden with produce from across the
Young Kingdoms.

The bulk of Dhakos stretches out on the

landward side of the Old City. Architecturally,
most buildings reflect the common Dhakos
style, but are built of mud brick rather than
stone and stand only one or two stories high.
Instead of spires they have gently pitched
wooden or slate-shingled roofs.
Newer than the Old City and the Harbour, the
oldest buildings here are still over 200 years
old.
The serfs of the city live in the New City,
labouring in mills and granaries. As every
Jharkorian over 15 years of age must serve a
compulsory six months military or naval
training, the barracks of the cavalry – proud
riders in gold whose steeds invariably hail
from Shazar – and the plainer infantrymen
are also found in the New City.
Other residents of the New City labour in the
fields and the estates of the nobility, on the
outskirts of Dhakos, whose gardens are as
grandiose as the buildings they inhabit.
PLAYERS’ INTRODUCTION
D HAKOS HARBOR IS large and bustling.
Ships from many nations visit here,
with visitors from Shazar, Tarkesh and
Some of the people are frightened, some
the Purple Towns most common. Less
unpleasantly hopeful. All are tense with
frequently but regularly, ships also come
anticipation. It seems all Dhakos is here,
from across the Pale Sea, from Vilmir or
listening to the lap of the waves and waiting.
Ilmiora, as well as from the decadent south.
Adventurers making Etiquette rolls notice
From the docks would normally come the
that although King Dharmit is not present, a
creaks of rope and winch and the grunts of
herald wearing his blazon is. No doubt the
men as holds are loaded and unloaded. This
King also has other, less obvious emissaries
evening, a warm night in late summer, sails
concealed among the crowd. As they mill
are furled, and bare masts sway across the
around, expect role-playing from the players
cloud-streaked sky as ships rock at anchor in
as they get into character. Introduce them to
the bay. The groan of timbers blends with the
one another, and have passers-by call out to
sound of the waves, the cries of gulls and the
Princess Yishana, telling her they know she
nervous susurrus of the crowd.
will protect them from any danger; she is a
The Pan Tangian trireme dropped anchor hero after all. Others in the crowd may
almost an hour ago, and since then there has recognize the Cardinal and ask for her
been no movement from its decks. As yet, blessing, while Count Tolk should receive
none have dared row out to it. The regular updates from members of his city
adventurers are amongst the crowd which guardsmen.
has slowly gathered upon the piers and
See rolls from any of the characters allow
quays to watch the black ship and whisper.
them to make out the Pan Tangian vessel's
If you think there will be enough time, you name lettered in gold on the prow. She is
may wish to roleplay through the moment called ‘The Scent Of Fear’.
when the characters first become aware of
Critical See rolls enable the adventurers to
the Pan Tangian trireme arriving in Dhakos:
spot the king, who is dressed incognito and
Yishana in the palace told by a servant;
stands amidst a crowd of peasants. He sees
Damietta interrupted during prayers, a low-
them too and raises a finger to his lips to
ranking priest whispering the urgent
implore their silence, before winking and
message; Tolk while inspecting the guards,
vanishing into the crowd.
and Salan not until a crowd of people run
shouting past his decrepit mansion.
Rumour of the Pan Tangian ship's arrival has
spread through the city like wildfire, and
people have flocked from across Dhakos to As people mill about, a number of marines
see it. arrive, pushing their way through the crowd.
Clad in silver helms and cloth-of-silver
tabards over their half-plate armour, these
guardsmen, all tall and handsome, escort
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai to a clear
vantage point at the waterside. Once he sees
nobles he recognises, Askai will join them.
Although considered a trifle slow by most,
being a man of few words and limited
emotions, the Captain-Admiral is in charge
of the Jharkorian navy, the largest in the
Young Kingdoms. He is an efficient and
superb tactician. Friendly and good natured,
someone who considers his words carefully
before speaking, Askai is naive enough not to
recognize sarcasm. He is blond, handsome,
and King Dharmit's lover.
If asked about the King's whereabouts Askai
replies, "He might be anywhere". (Dharmit is
in fact secretly observing the current goings
on in disguise.) Askai has sent signals to
ships patrolling the merchant lanes
offshore, ordering them to sail towards the
harbor, ready to intercept the trireme if it
attempts to leave. Other marines are
standing by on their ships in the harbor with
bows and light catapults, ready for the first
sign that the Pan Tangians intend harm.
Immediately after sunset, adventurers
succeeding at Listen rolls will hear the
sounds of movement from the direction of
the Pan Tangian vessel. Although the light is
fast fading, those straining their eyes will see
a rowboat being lowered over the side.
Shortly thereafter a number of figures climb
down into it. Gasps echo through the
awaiting crowd as two jets of green and blue
flame burst up into the air. Diminishing in
size although not in intensity, the light they
give reveals a black-draped rowboat sculling
towards land. Two torches, the source of the
eerie light, burn fiercely at stern and prow.
A number of red-robed sailors row the boat to
shore, a single figure sitting proudly upright
in the centre of the vessel. Canvas shrouded
objects nestle around the figure's feet.
As the boat docks, the rowers spring into
action, tying it to the pier and deferentially
assisting their passenger ashore. As he
brushes down his robes, arranging them
about him, the red-robed sailors carry a
number of cloth-wrapped objects from the
boat, placing them around him on the pier.
The Pan Tangian ambassador is tall and
gaunt, richly dressed in a long-sleeved robe
of black velvet trimmed in foxfur and lined
with red satin. Dark skinned and with
flashing eyes, Malakian's mane of black hair
springs down to his shoulders. A long black
moustache droops from his upper lip. Silver
loops dangle from his ears, and his long
fingernails are painted black. Malakian
carries no obvious weapons.
Although his appearance is imposing, it is
not terrifying. Witty and eloquent,
Malakian's deep voice and clever words are
capable of smoothing over any argument.
Proud of his achievements, Malakian never
allows his personal feelings to interfere with
his work, always carrying out the Theocrat's
commands to the best of his abilities. While
capable of hinting at Pan Tang's military
power as a veiled threat, he glosses over such
details as torture, slavery and the bloody
worship of Chaos in order to focus on the
advantages of alliance with Pan Tang: access
to luxury items, demonic weapons, well-
armed mercenaries and the like. When not
about official business, Malakian's favourite
pastime is the crucifixion of slaves and the
torture of small furry animals.
SIX PAN TANGIAN GUARDS
Dressed identically in loose red robes over their
armour, all six are swarthy and cruel in
appearance. They wear pointed, steel-capped
boots, spiked helmets, and carry scimitars. Two
of them carry the torches from the rowboat.
Grell Ve'ella, the sergeant, is particularly proud
of his long, forked beard. Like any of their
compatriots, these warrior-sailors are sadistic
thugs. All respect and fear their master and
they obey his every word.
STR 12 CON 12 SIZ 13 INT 13
POW 13 DEX 12 APP 9
Hit Points: 12 Damage Bonus: 1d4
Armor: Half Plate w/ helm on(1d8+1)
Weapon Skill Dmg
Scimitar 75% 1d6+1+db
Skills: Intimidate Others 40%, Dodge 35%,
Insight 35%, Listen 35%, Move Quietly 40%. Sail
70%, Search 30%.
Pausing to draw breath, the Pan Tangian
emissary speaks in a deep, trustworthy voice
which belies his fearsome appearance and
which all in the harbor can hear.
"People of Jharkor, Lords and Ladies of the
land, King Dharmit, greetings from his
Chaotic Majesty the Theocrat of Pan Tang,
the Lord Jagreen Lern. Out of his respect for
your nation, and as gratitude for your
King's wise decision to allow the Church of
Chaos a small enclave on Jharkorian soil,
the Theocrat sends you these tokens of his
esteem. He hopes that Jharkor and Pan
Tang may become closer through these gifts
and sends his blessings as Bishop of
Chardros to you all."
Guards whip the concealing cloths away.
Torchlight glints on silver thread and gold
leaf. As the crowd draw in a collective breath,
the Pan Tangian continues with a flourish.
"For his Royal Majesty King Dharmit of
Jharkor, his Excellency Jagreen Lern sends
this marble bust of his own magnificent
countenance, the gift of a king to a king.
"To the King's sister, Princess Yishana the
Beautiful, of whose graces even Pan Tang
has heard, the Theocrat offers this
sculpture from far Changshai, in the
Unknown East.
"For Count Tolk Varan of the Dhakos Guard,
who we hear was most instrumental in
convincing those opposed to our Church of
the error of their ways, Jagreen Lern sends
this tapestry from the soul-weavers of the
Dreaming City. May its beauty only further
inspire his eloquent arguments.
"Painted by the renowned slave-artist
Halig, once resident of Pan Tang, this fine
canvas, The Triumph Of Physick Over The
Modern Man, our Theocrat gifts to Captain-
Admiral Athven Askai, as a token of his
esteem and skill. The Theocrat hopes to
meet the famous Captain-Admiral one day
and plumb his tactical mind for himself.
"This delicately crafted harp, a product of
lost Quarzhasaat, is presented to her
Excellency Cardinal Damietta, of the Temple
of Donblas of Law. Theocrat Lern hopes this
gift might show the Cardinal that Chaos
can be beautiful; that disorder is not half so
fearful as she believes.
"And last, although by no means least,
another Halig painting, recovered from
obscurity by the Theocrat himself from
where it lay mouldering in our Temple-
Palace, Hwamgaarl Tears Out The Eye Of
The Sun. It is said to be the first canvas
Halig produced upon his… visit… to Pan
Tang. This work the Theocrat gives to Earl
Salan of Greal, with his best wishes."
Bowing at the end of his announcement,
Kri’ag Malakian stands with his hands
folded in his sleeves, surveying the crowd
through impassive eyes. The characters or
their attendants should come forward to
accept their gifts.
Successful Music Lore and Art Lore rolls will
allow the adventurers to recall stories of
Halig, a great artist captured by Pan Tang and
driven mad by his experiences there. Such
gifts are virtually priceless and coveted even
upon dreaming Melniboné. (See the section
About the Slave-Artist Halig for more
information, or provide the handout on page
39.)
Once the nobles themselves have gone, the
Pan Tangian throws a handful of gold coins
into the crowd, then leaves without saying
another word. The screams of peasants
fighting over the gold drift across the still
waters of the harbour. Once Malakian
reaches his ship, its anchor is rattled up and
the Pan Tangians sail away.
The Bust: is carved of white marble by
the hands of an artist who has perfectly
captured the Theocrat's cruel and proud
visage in indelible stone. A nervous,
adolescent herald in the King's livery
steps forward to accept the bust.
The Statue: a life-size jade statue of two
intertwined lovers, intimate and
beautiful, a piece of erotica produced in
lands unmapped by Young Kingdoms
scholars; even successful World Lore
rolls will fail to remember any mention
of Changshai unless a Critical roll is
made, in which case they will recall
rumours of a land ruled by warring trees
whose foliage grows so thick that the
only light comes from fireflies and
strangely-glowing fungi. Yishana
should claim this artwork.
The Harp: A harp of gold, its strings of
silver and tuning keys of mother-of-
pearl. The notes it produces are
shimmering and delicate. The harp is
always perfectly tuned. World Lore rolls
relate the legend of Quarzhasaat, the
Lost City swallowed by the sands of the
Sighing Desert 2000 years ago. Cardinal
Damietta will receive a sweeping bow
from Malakian as he presents this harp
to her or her representative.
The Triumph Of Physick Over The
Modern Man: this painting in a gilt
frame measures some six feet wide by
four feet high. It shows a village in
Lormyr, thatch-roofed houses and
white-washed stone walls huddled
around the town square, including an
inn called The King's Head. There is a
well in the centre of the grassy square. A
dismembered and bloody corpse lies
around the low stone wall of the well.
The corpse’s head cannot be seen. Art
Lore, Music Lore or World Lore rolls will
allow adventurers to know that rumour
has it the body in the painting is
believed to represent the artist. Halig is
said to have painted this work as a
prequel to his own suicide. (See
elsewhere for details about the slave-
artist Halig.)
Hwamgaarl Tears Out The Eye Of The
Sun: a lesser Halig work, this canvas
shows the encircling cliffs of the
Hwamgaarl harbor, built in what
remains of the mouth of an exploded
volcano. The claws and spires of the
city's insane architecture can be seen
stained with dawn's ruddy light, as if by
blood, where they cluster on the
landward slope of the volcanic cone. Art
Lore rolls suggest that this painting is a
cruder, early work by the artist, and thus
quite valuable despite its clumsy
composition and execution. The Earl of
Greal will no doubt be flattered (and
possibly a little unnerved) by this gift
from the Theocrat of Pan Tang.
The Tapestry: This Melnibonéan work
shimmers and gleams, woven from
scintillating and brightly-coloured
fabrics which somehow blend instead of
clashing. It depicts a languid group of
nobles reclining in an ornate pavilion in
a forest glade. The centre of attention is
a standing female figure in the middle
of the group, who seems to be receiving
 the worship of those around her.
Successful Search rolls find the words,
‘Blessed Arnara of the Six Breasts’ woven
in High Melnibonéan into the figure's
dress, Arnara being a minor Chaos deity
of love and sensual pleasure revered
upon the Dragon Isle.
ONCE THE PAN Tangians have left, night
settles across Dhakos. The crowd dissipates
and the weather remains warm. It is the
calm before the storm.
Roleplay through the remainder of the
evening, the nobles going to their respective
homes and placing the artworks where they
will. Try as they will, no magical runes or
auras can be found on any of the six pieces.
If Earl Salan attempts to learn anything
about his painting, or about the renowned
Halig, the player should be passed the
material summarised in, About the Slave-
Artist Halig on page 5 (and repeated on page
39 as a player handout).
While the insidious replacement of Dhakos
with the warped reflection of Hwamgaarl
will not begin until dawn, even now the
presence of Hwamgaarl Tears Out The Eye Of
The Sun provokes a series of strange events.
The day will bring even stranger still.
The duplication of the city will be complete
with the next sunset. Throughout the night
the presence in Dhakos of a painting of such
malignant appetite does not go unnoticed. A
ripple of nightmare spreads out through the
sleeping city, the adventurers amongst those
whose dreams are contaminated by the
proximity of the City of Screaming Statues.
When they awake, characters must make
INT x 3 rolls to remember the specifics of
their dreams; if the roll is failed, they wake
only as if from a troubled night's slumber,
the details of the dreams dispelled by the
wholesome light of dawn.
PRINCESS YISHANA: A dream in which
she runs through the twisting stone
streets of a city carved from black stone,
knowing something dreadful chases her
but unable to recall who or what it is. No
signs of pursuit can be heard, but
Yishana runs on regardless. The dream
ends with Yishana running into a dead-
end street. As she turns, a wave of tigers
on silent, padded claws sweep around
the corner and are upon her, biting and
clawing. Yishana wakes with the taste
of blood in her mouth – she has bitten
her tongue in her sleep.
CARDINAL DAMIETTA: In her dream she
walks down the corridors of some
building that never seems to end, and
whose floorplan makes no sense. Doors
open into emptiness; flights of stairs
lead nowhere. There seems no way out.
As Damietta walks, her footsteps echo
around her like the beating of some
giant heart. As the heartbeat grows
suddenly louder, the floor beneath her
feet tears open – a gaping, wet, red
mouth lined with fangs. Damietta
wakes gasping, heart pounding as if
from sudden exertion.
EARL SALAN: Dreams of lying chained in
some lightless place, unable to see while
nearby someone sobs and screams.
Then comes the sound of sharpening
knives and some liquid dripping upon
the stone floor. Suddenly Salan realizes
why he cannot see – his eyes have been
torn out. When the Earl of Greal wakes,
it is to darkness. Is he still blind? No. It
is still the middle of the night and his
chamber is in darkness. Not until Salan
opens a curtain will he be able to see out
 across the spires and roof tops of
Dhakos, silvered by the moonlight.
COUNT TOLK: He is strolling along some
pleasant beach in his sleep, white sand
between his toes and the sound of waves
in his ears. Suddenly the sunlight is cut
off and Tolk and beach alike are plunged
into shadow. A successful See roll allows
him to perceive that the shadow extends
out towards the ocean; at the horizon he
glimpses a black sail. The he realises the
reason for the shadow: above the beach,
impossibly, a mountain has appeared in
the sky, hanging suspended for a brief
instant before plunging down to earth.
Tolk has just enough time to observe
that the mountain is covered in a many-
spired building the size of a city before
he is crushed to death. He wakes unable
to breath, bedsheets twisted around his
neck.
DESPITE THE CHARACTERS' dreams the
morning dawns bright and clear, with every
promise of a hot day to come. There is no sign
of evil abroad by day, and the artworks with
which the characters were gifted remain as
beautiful as they were when they retired for
the night. Unbeknownst to them all, the
rising of the sun over Dhakos has activated
Hwamgaarl Claws Out The Eye Of The Sun.
Although the day begins normally, outré
events gradually unfold in an escalating
parade of madness. By midday the disorder
is obvious enough for King Dharmit to call a
meeting of his royal council in defence of
Dhakos. The characters are included in this
meeting (see King Dharmit's Summons on
page 19).
Below are a number of events and omens
which the Game Master should slip into the
characters' mornings, first suggesting, then
hammering home with shocking intensity
the madness that is consuming the city.
Play through the adventurers’ mornings at
first as if nothing was wrong, interacting
between the players' own suggestions and
your own. Useful NPC's might include
servants for Yishana bringing her breakfast
of fruits and wine where she lies beneath the
furs of her bed; lesser priests in need of
counselling from the Cardinal because of the
dark dreams they have had; Count Tolk's
devoted batman waking him for the early
morning inspection of the guards; and the
Earl of Greal's faithful old family retainer.
As events escalate over the following hours,
isolated incidents accelerate until it is plain
that something is deeply wrong in Dhakos.
SCREAMING: at first one character
might notice a faint ringing in their
ears, another the thin whine of an
insect somewhere in the room. As time
passes the sound becomes louder, a
faint screaming, by midday noticeable
by all as a constant background wailing,
desperate and terrible. As yet, no source
for the noise can be heard.
CLOUDS: By mid-morning, black storm
clouds sweep in from the east, their
puffed ramparts seeming to form great
cliffs or dark fortresses in the sky. When
it breaks, the storm is of unusual
intensity, accompanied by howling
winds and lashing rain. While storms
are common in summer, they usually
come from the south, not the east. A
Navigate, Make Maps or World Lore roll
reminds adventurers that Pan Tang lies
due east…
THE BIRDS: mild, ordinary birds –
seagulls, weaver birds, lapwings, caged
songbirds, even peacocks – are suddenly
filled with rage, pecking and clawing in
a feathered, flapping frenzy. If any are
killed, they are found to have grown
teeth.
 MADMEN: the first of these children of
the Apocalypse, tattered clothes
flapping, all mad eyes and drooling
mouths, stands shrieking atop the spire
of the Cathedral of Law. "It's coming!" he
screams, again and again, but what it is
he either does not know or cannot bring
himself to tell. Can he be talked down?
Driven mad by his dreams of the
previous night, soon the maniac throws
himself screaming into the air. His body
is broken is by the fall to the square
below, but horribly he still lives for an
agonized moment longer, to bubble " ...
It’s ... coming ... " from bloodied lips,
clutching with a dead hand at the
closest person as he expires. As things
get worse, there will be many more such
maniacs about the scene.
WORMS: Fine fruit becomes infested
with maggots. A pomegranate or apple is
revealed to be a hollow shell that seems
wholesome enough until the adventurer
– perhaps Yishana at a late breakfast –
bites or cuts into it; then it is revealed to
be fetid, with worms writhing within.
CAT: A black cat crosses an adventurer's
path and is immediately run over by an
ox cart and killed.
BLOOD: The contents of a goblet, jug,
barrel or bath are transformed to an
equal amount of tepid, clotting blood,
still faintly steaming from the warmth
of whatever body it has just been spilled
from.
Halfway through the morning the first
physical signs of the invading architecture
begin to appear in Dhakos, infecting and
ousting streets, houses, pillars, doorways.
At first this is subtle. Characters making
Search rolls might notice a door they have
just closed is not the same as it was when
they opened it. Listen rolls detect a change in
the sound of their footsteps; upon looking
down the character sees that the street has
gone from being paved with cobblestones to
being plated with sheets of iron.
The sound of screaming already forms a
constant damned chorus; now the black,
twisted statues which emit the dreadful
sound begin to appear, on rooftops, in
alcoves, never stopping their ghastly sobs
and wailing.
Around this time a royal herald arrives
wherever each character is, giving them the
message that King Dharmit orders all nobles
to the palace. Dhakos is under supernatural
attack, and the nobility must decide upon a
resolute course of action.
The herald in his bright tabard rides off on
his pony; he does not make it back to the
palace alive. Somewhere one of the
characters should find his body, gnawed as if
by some great beast. The tracks of a large,
six-legged creature lead away from the body.
Track rolls can follow the devil-lizard to
where it sleeps beneath a nearby bridge,
digesting its meal.
SIX-LEGGED DEVIL-LIZARD
STR 23 CON 15 SIZ 27 INT 3
POW 11 DEX 10 APP -
Hit Points: 30 Damage Bonus: 2d6
Armor: 5 points of scaly hide
Weapon Skill Dmg
Bite 40% 1d10+db
Tail Spike* 40% 1d8+1+db
* If hit, target must roll STRx3 or be knocked
over.
Note: A devil lizard can attack with both bite
and tail in the same round, but not against the
same opponent.
Characters who already guess that their
artworks may be responsible for the
weirdness infecting Dhakos might decide to
take them to the palace with them. This is all
well and good and will help the session run
to time. However, try and subtly encourage
Earl Salan of Greal to keep his painting; if he
is playing in character, hopefully he will
want to keep it anyway.
As the characters make their way to the
palace one or more of them sees or
experiences the attack of a Pan Tangian tiger.
A horse, perhaps even one drawing the
adventurer's own chariot, suddenly
transform into a rippling, lithe and deadly
tiger, savage yellow eyes and striped pelt
horrifyingly real and solid.
The big cat attacks whatever is nearest, be it
noble, peasant or even the shrieking,
desperate horse it is harnessed alongside.
Later in the day there are reports of further
tigers loose on the streets. Rumour circulates
that an entire troop of Silver Leopards, the
King's elite warriors and personal guard,
were slaughtered when the cavalry horses
they rode turned en masse into a large pack
of angry, hungry felines.
PAN TANGIAN TIGER
STR 20 CON 19 SIZ 16 INT 2
POW 12 DEX 20 APP 15
Hit Points: 23 Damage Bonus: ld6
Armor: 1d3 points skin and fur
Weapon Skill Dmg
Bite 45% 2d6+db
Claw 70% 1d6+3+db*
Ripping * - 3d8+db
* If both claws hit, it will rip with the hind
claws on subsequent rounds, continuing to bite
as well.
Note: Tigers get two claw attacks and one bite
each round.
Skills: Hide 70%, Move Quietly 90%, Search 40%,
Scent 90%, Track 90%.
This man is doomed to die in a few years’
time in the sack of Imrryr, abandoned by
Elric and left to die beneath a rain of flaming
dragon venom. He is lean-faced and
cunning, although was rash as a youth, and
once lost a whole fleet because of a hasty
decision. Age has tempered him, adding
wisdom to his daring and guile.
Aged in his late 40's King Dharmit is of
average height, but broad shouldered and
barrel chested. A short beard fringes his jaw,
although he has no moustache. King
Dharmit has shoulder length brown hair and
grey eyes. Statistics are not presented for
King Dharmit, as he is secondary to the
action of the tournament. In his youth he
was strong enough to wrestle one of the
shaggy Shazarian kine (wild cattle which
dwell on the southern steppes) to the ground;
he is also quick witted and sly.
Although not openly present at the harbor
when the Pan Tangian trireme sailed into
port, Dharmit – disguised as a beggar – saw
everything from the shadows. As King of
Jharkor Dharmit stays one step ahead of
everyone and is happy to let people
underestimate him.
When the characters arrive in the Council
Chamber, Dharmit is already present,
dressed only in hastily flung-on robes and
without weapons. He broods on his throne in
the gloomy hall. No torches have been lit in
the room, nor have the fireplaces. The
marble bust of the Theocrat which was given
to Dharmit stands beside his throne on a
plinth. Gradually the circular room fills with
colour and light as the many nobles of
Jharkor make their way to this emergency
meeting of the Royal Council.
Insight rolls from the adventurers will allow
them to notice that Captain-Admiral Athven
Askai is not present, which is highly
unusual.
Many of those present have first-hand tales
to tell of the horrors which stalk Dhakos,
witnessed as they rode from their estates at
the city's edge. Plump, pale Lord Harman of
Kief whispers of seeing an entire team of
horses drawing ploughs transformed into
scaled, six legged reptilian monsters. The
carnage amongst the children following
behind the team, sowing seed in the freshly
turned earth, was simply indescribable.
Just as Dharmit stands, preparing to speak to
the collected nobility, whose collective
tension and nervousness is barely in check,
Search rolls from the characters will notice a
new set of eyes amongst those turned
towards the King. This pair are blank,
pupilless, and yellow. They have opened in
the marble face of the bust of Jagreen Lern.
Adventurers who stand to watch what
happens see the bust sprout several sets of
long, knotted limbs from its base – the neck
of the Theocrat – while its mouth opens to
reveal multiple rows of long, curved teeth. Its
gnarled, spidery talons claw the air while its
splayed, stork-like legs support the drooling
head as the bust lurches towards King
Dharmit to attack.
Characters with a DEX greater than the bust-
demon may act before it reaches its intended
victim. Jump rolls could be used to intercept
the creature's path, or weapons drawn to
parry its claws.
SPINDLY SAVAGE HELL-BUST DEMON
STR 14 CON 15 SIZ 8 INT 3
POW 18 DEX 13 APP 17
Hit Points: 14 Damage Bonus: None
Armor: 1d4 points of marble and hide.
Weapon Skill Dmg
Clawx2 55% 1d8+db*
Bite 30% 1d4+db
* If both claws hit it bites automatically.
Skills: Creep 100%, Dodge 35%, Unnerve Nobles
100%
HISTORICAL NOTE: Don't let Dharmit die. If
need be, have a blow from the beast knock him
across the room. His fate, as mentioned above,
lies elsewhere.
Once the demon is dead, the characters
should realize where the attacks upon their
city originate. The artworks which they have
been given are cursed. If the players do not
realise this, King Dharmit will come up with
the idea himself. He will ask the characters
to fetch their artworks and bring them to the
palace to be destroyed.
If the characters have not yet noticed that the
Captain-Admiral is not present, Dharmit
now realises, and is concerned for his lover's
safety. Yishana may use this incident to cast
suspicion on Askai regarding the peril
Dhakos now faces; Cardinal Damietta and
the Earl of Greal may similarly launch a
verbal attack on Count Varan.
After calling for peace, Dharmit will ask that
the characters journey to the Captain-
Admiral's ship, and find both him and his
painting as soon as possible, returning both
to the King. If they refuse, he will command
them, and a king’s command cannot be
denied. That mission accomplished, he
orders them to assemble their Pan Tangian
gifts at the palace, so his advisors may
establish what dangers the artworks present.
ONCE THE ADVENTURERS have left the peace
and safety of the palace, they travel into
nightmare. The cannibalisation of the Old
City by Hwamgaarl is accelerating at a rapid
rate of knots. Nightmare events unfold
around them. Entire buildings warp and
transform. Great stone spines erupt from
walls and roof tops; characters might have to
Dodge these, or merely see someone else,
perhaps even someone they are talking to,
impaled.
The wind howls and lashing rain falls, while
the sky is dark with roiling clouds. The
sounds of shrieking statues and the cries of
the desperate and deranged citizens of
Dhakos echo all around. It is the worst of
times, and even worse times still, and it is all
of them at once.
Tigers and devil-lizards, now with cruel-
faced, swarthy, armoured men upon their
backs, prowl the streets. Death’s head crabs
the size of large dogs emerge from wells and
waterways, their great claws clicking. The
iron-paved roads are briefly scattered with a
rain of flesh and blood. Packs of men and
women run past on all fours, howling like
mad dogs. Stone walls melt and flow,
reforming in shapes only the most insane of
architects could admire. Hwamgaarl is
coming.
DEATH’S HEAD CRAB
STR 17 CON 18 SIZ 22 INT 4
POW 6 DEX 14 APP -
Hit Points: 20 Damage Bonus: 1d6
Armour: 6 points carapace
Weapon Skill Dmg
Major claw 60% 1d8+2d6+db*
Minor claw 45% 2d6+db*
Trample** 80% 6d4
* If both claws hit the same target, the crab
grips and won’t let go. In the following round
the crab retreats to the nearest available water
source. The victim can only pull themselves
free with a successful STR vs STR roll. Once the
crab is fully submerged the pinned victim must
avoid drowning as per the standard rules.
** The crab must first knock its opponent down,
by overcoming their SIZ + DEX with its own STR
+ SIZ.
Skills: Scuttle (treat as Dodge) 45%, Sense
Movement 65%
This far away from Hwamgaarl Tears Out The
Eye Of The Sun, the painting’s malign
influence is less pervasive. While rumour is
rife, fewer signs of the madness sweeping
the Old City have manifested in the
Harbourside district save for the fierce storm
which lashes Dhakos. But the longer the
adventurers spend at the harbour, the
stranger things become: sharks gather in the
waters below and become increasingly
frenzied, as if scenting blood; flocks of
wailing gulls swoop to attack; ships’
figureheads begin to writhe and roll their
eyes in anguish, eventually opening their
mouths to scream; and beneath the
adventurers’ feet, pools of water on the
quayside transform into pools of steaming,
freshly spilled blood.
The Captain-Admiral's flagship, The Pride Of
Dhakos, floats seemingly abandoned where
it is anchored in the middle of the harbor. See
rolls can detect no movement from the twin-
masted war galley, save from the flags
fluttering atop its fore and aft upper decks.
Critical See rolls will note a man in the crows'
nest, asleep or dead.
A small boat can be easily obtained, and a
fisherman impressed enough by the
characters via Credit rolls to row them out to
the rocking flagship despite the foul weather.
He declines the offer to come aboard but will
stay moored to the side for ten minutes.
Aboard the ship, everyone from Captain to
the ship's cat is asleep, and cannot be woken
despite the characters' every effort. This is
the effect of The Triumph Of Physick Over The
Modern Man. Anyone sleeping within 200
feet of the painting is drawn into its strange
painted world, there to dwell in an insane
Dreamworld inhabited by the mad ghost of
its creator, the slave-artist Halig.
The ship’s small black and white cat is the
first creature the adventurers encounter
upon boarding. It is fast asleep in a tightly
curled, purring bundle on the deck, its paws
twitching occasionally as if chasing rats in
its dreams. It will not wake under any
circumstances.
Anyone looking into one of the open hatches
can see a dead crewman smashed against
the stairs, having fallen asleep in the lines
and thus to his death. Most crew members
can be found asleep in their hammocks,
although several are scattered and snoring
here and there about the ship.
If adventurers try to shake the man in the
crow’s nest awake, he will slip out and fall
unless someone can catch him with a roll of
DEXx3, but they must then match his SIZ 11
against their STR or fall also. Successful
Jump or Dodge rolls can aim adventurers
towards the sea rather than the deck,
otherwise an almost certainly fatal impact of
5d6 damage will result when they hit the
deck. A major wound inflicted by falling
damage equals a broken limb, as per the
Stormbringer rule book.
A merciful Game Master may allow the
falling adventurer to catch a handy piece of
rigging with a successful POWx3 roll, though
such an action will risk dislocating a
shoulder – or straining it painfully, at the
very least (1d6 damage).
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai sleeps (alone)
in his narrow bed in the poop deck, a
painting of the King gracing one wall of his
cabin. The portrait is crudely executed in
comparison to The Triumph Of Physick Over
Modern Man, which sits propped on a chair
by the bed. Like the rest of the crew, Askai
cannot be woken. A sorcerer would know
that perhaps a Nanorian stone could awaken
him from his enchanted slumber but finding
such a stone would be a long quest in itself,
and there is little time remaining.
AS PREVIOUSLY DESCRIBED, The Triumph Of
Physick Over Modern Man is a large and
exquisite oil painting depicting a classically
Lormyrian village of thatch-roofed houses
and white-washed stone walls huddled
around the town square. Among the rustic
houses is an inn called The King's Head.
There is a well in the centre of the grassy
square. A dismembered and bloody corpse
lies around the low stone wall of the well.
The corpse’s head cannot be seen.
Dreamers trapped in the painting can be
seen with Search rolls if the canvas is closely
scrutinised. Art Lore, or Memorise rolls, can
likewise allow adventurers to notice the tiny
faces now staring out of windows and doors
in the painting which were not previously
present. Comparing the miniature painted
faces with the faces of the crew confirms
that everyone sleeping on the ship is depicted
somewhere in the village – even the ship’s
cat, which is sleeping peacefully on a sunny
windowsill.
If the adventurers do not make the
connection themselves, INTx4 rolls will
suggest that the painting has somehow
captured the souls of everyone sleeping in its
vicinity.
Adventurers may be rash enough to
immediately attempt to dream into the
painting, or they might take both the cursed
canvas and the sleeping Captain-Admiral
back to the palace before doing anything else.
As surmised, sleeping near the canvas draws
anyone automatically into the painting. An
apothecary or herbalist at the palace can
easily whip up some suitable draught to send
the adventurers instantly to sleep, should
they wish to do so.
Other adventurers may have split up earlier
in proceedings to make the collection of the
Pan Tangian gifts quicker or perhaps they
split up now. Ideally the progression of
events from this point would be Palace,
Painting, Pieces Of Art, but do not push this.
Give the players at least the illusion of
control.
Should they need encouragement to sleep
their way into The Triumph Of Physick Over
Modern Man have the king himself trapped
within it upon their return to the palace.
Upon entering the throne room or his private
chambers, the adventurers discover Dharmit
has snatched a few minutes sleep as he
awaits their return. As they enter, bearing
the cursed painting, he stirs briefly from
sleep. Gazing blearily from half-open eyes,
Dharmit looks first at the adventurers, then
at the cursed artwork. His eyes widen for a
moment before he falls into a deep,
enchanted slumber and joins those tapped
within the canvas.
Once King Dharmit falls asleep again, he
cannot be woken. The answer to this
quandary is writ in paint from a madman's
brush.
As soon as they sleep in the vicinity of the
painting, adventurers feel some arcane force
dragging them into the canvas. They feel
their bodies, their very souls, smeared,
distorted, stretched as they fall into a dream,
becoming liquid streaks of paint and blurs of
shape and shade.
When they reform, they are standing beside
a well in an ordinary Lormyrian village;
ordinary in every respect save that
everything is frozen and grey, and a
dismembered corpse is scattered on the grey
grass around them.
As the adventurers gain their bearings, they
notice colour leaching from their clothes and
hair with every movement. Even their eyes
and skin are affected. Soon they are only
shades of black, white and grey.
Their limbs feel stiff (subtract 1d3 each from
STR and DEX for the duration of their time in
the painting, though HP are unaffected) and
their clothes and hair are equally stiff and
brittle.
Conversely, with every movement, the
painted world around them is slowly filled
with vibrancy and life. Each step or gesture
they take drains colour from them and
returns it to the world around them, as if
their every movement was contributing to a
giant paint-by-numbers kit. (As an option at
this point, Game Masters who are utilising
the Sanity rules in Demon Magic, the second
Stormbringer companion, may wish to
invoke an appropriate penalty.)
Around them stand low houses of
whitewashed stone with thatched roofs;
among the many homes can be seen an inn,
The King’s Head, a smithy, and oddly, a
millinery. Trees rustle behind the buildings
and from somewhere nearby comes the
quacking of ducks. Other animals wander
into view occasionally, including the
humped cattle common in the South.
Once, the small black and white cat from The
Pride Of Dhakos flies past. It has grown wings
in its dreams, and swoops hither and yon,
terrifying the flocks of starlings which
inhabit this painted world. Eventually the cat
flies off out of sight, miaowing as it goes.
As life and colour return to the painted world,
the many body parts around the well began
first to tremble, then to flop around horribly,
like so many fish out of water. Severed
fingers wriggle, limbs bearing the livid
marks of old brands writhe, organs drool out
of a heavily scarred torso. Every part is
somehow still alive and oozing thick red
paint instead of blood.
The head of Halig, for that is whose scattered
body the parts belong to, can be found fast
asleep within the milliner's shop not far
away. Indeed, the dozens of hats that fill the
shop's shelves all have decapitated heads
under them, each one asleep and dreaming.
Once a hat is lifted off a head it will wake,
open its eyes and look around. Some of them
start screaming. Others only stare in silent
horror. Some weep quietly.
Each head will speak properly only if asked
about hats, and then only to demand that
their own special hat be found and given to
them. The babble of voices demanding their
hat may soon prove almost overwhelming.
Halig can be recognised by the spatters of
blood and paint on his cheeks, the paint in
his hair and beard, and the fevered intensity
of his grey-eyed gaze. His talk is all nonsense,
insane babble interspersed with demands
for “My hat! Bring me my HAT! My hatters
dance, traipsing kipperling, I want my hat!”
Halig's hat is, of course, a beret, and he will
accept no other. Other hats in the shop
include topers, bowlers, straw boaters,
deerstalkers, tricorn pirates’ hats, admirals'
hats with ostrich plumes, sailors' caps,
extravagant hats, gorgeous hats, multi-level
hats to shade creatures with more than one
head and more besides. Once Halig's head
has its beret on, the dead artist will answer
all questions, but being insane, may not
always answer them directly or coherently.
If asked, Halig says that leaving the painting
is easy.
“All you must cock-a-doodle-do! Is enter
the gate in the field of dreams beyond the
duckpond (which is where you may or may
not find – quite delicious! – the Admiral you
might not be or not to be – look here you
bastards, FORE! But do not, not now
darling, oh my darling Clementine, enter
the door from the side you approached it
from, else you end up in Sadanor, Land of
Dreams-in-Common, so common, ugh!
Which now I think about it is where that’s
what’s new pussy cat? Has flown – off like a
bride’s nightie, off like a chop in the desert
– flown off to. And there’s another sixes and
sevens lands after that which I wouldn't
want to visit if I were you, oh if I were you,
which I'm not. Hah!”
If King Dharmit has been drawn into the
painting, and if Halig is asked about his
whereabouts, he says only: “Come in, come
in, come inn!” He is referencing the nearby
inn, The King’s Head, which the adventurers
will realise with a successful INTx5 roll,
assuming it does not occur to the players
immediately.
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai, as Halig has
already cryptically mentioned, can be found
at the nearby duckpond. An INTx3 roll will
suggest this.
If asked about Hwamgaarl Tears Out The Eye
Of The Sun, Halig becomes temporarily lucid.
“That painting. That damned, accursed,
hungry painting,” he says. “It was my final
work. Painting it drove me mad, and
almost cost me my soul.”
Not until the painting fell into the hands of
Pan Tangian pirates, who took it back to
Hwamgaarl, did its powers become evident.
It is a hungry painting, eating on command
whatever city it is placed in, cannibalising,
consuming and replacing the host city with
its own nightmare landscape. Its horror
caused Halig to kill himself once he had
painted it, and his soul was almost trapped
within it before escaping to this relative
haven, he explains.
It was while attempting to flee
Hwamgaarl's... painted menace that Halig
also learnt to destroy it.
If a head without a body could lean in and
whisper, it would.
“One must enter its nightmare realm, step
into the painting as it stretches to its
widest, at sunset, when Dhakos risks being
forever devoured and Hwamgaarl stretches
out from the bleak, obsidian isle of Pan
 Tang. Only when someone is half in Dhakos,
half in Hwamgaarl, and completely within
the painting can it be stopped, and only
then by rolling the painting up, or ripping
up the canvas,” Halig says.
“Roll it up or rip it up. Rip it up. Join the
gate’s ends together in a recursive loop or
tear the gate apart as it opens to its fullest.
Rip or roll. RIP OR ROLL!. RRRRRRRIP OR
ROLLLLL!!!!!,” he shrieks.
At which point Halig’s head rips in twain,
and the two halves fall to the shop floor and
roll about like ghastly, bloody, broken
marbles, shrieking unintelligibly, and every
other head joins them until the noise is
unbearable.
Walking to The King's Head, Listen rolls from
the adventurers detect the sound of many
feet pattering towards them. From around a
corner comes a horde of shoes, of many sizes
and styles. The shoes prance and dance
around the adventurers' feet for a moment
before twinkling away. Adventurers making
See rolls note the stumps of sawn-off feet in
every shoe.
The inn has a black wooden door but no lock
or handle, and its whitewashed walls are
still wet. The whole building ripples like jelly
if touched, and the fingertips of adventurers'
touching it come away wet and white.
Painting a handle onto the door with
whitewash is the quickest way inside (INTx4
to realise this.).
The drunken sailors carousing within will
not leave; they remember nothing of their
former lives, only that they have been
drinking here. Only their Captain-Admiral
can compel them to wake up; they will listen
to no-one else.
King Dharmit is not inside. Instead he is
trapped inside the inn's sign, a wooden panel
hanging outside above the door and which
now resembles a pane of thick glass.
Although he pounds the glass of which the
sign is now made and mouths silently, he
cannot be heard. Oddly, his image is the
same on either side of the plate of glass.
Once the glass is shattered by a blow or blows
inflicting at least six cumulative points of
damage, Dharmit comes tumbling safely
down. His first words are: “Where’s Athven?”
Traveling towards the duckpond the
adventurers pass a tree whose leaves are all
hands, and which tentatively wave as the
adventurers walk by. If anyone waves back
the hands wave excitedly, faster and faster,
generating a breeze. Finally they wave so
hard that the roots of the tree rip out of the
ground and the whole thing flaps off towards
the clouds. Bring it swooping back low
overhead for a repeat performance just after
the duckpond incident.
At the duckpond, Athven is giving orders to
opposed, martialled flotillas of ducks. He has
not noticed that with each order he gives, he
is turning bit by bit into a duck himself.
The evil minds of the ducks eagerly await
another soul to join their muddy misery.
Arm to wing, toes joined by webbing, Athven
will soon be quacking with the rest of them.
Orate rolls from the characters, or a simple
"Stop!" from King Dharmit, brings the
Captain-Admiral to his senses, and from
there humanity is only a waddle away. The
duckiness soon wears off, although Athven
may have something of a phobia about
feathers from now on.
True to Halig's word, a simple wooden door
stands in the field beyond the duckpond,
leading back to earth or forwards to endless
dreaming. The lovers tenderly reunited, the
adventurers can away back to the real world,
which has become completely unreal while
they have been away.

CHAOS REIGNS. The sound of screaming
seems to be slowly rising towards some
dreadful crescendo, while the sun flickers
and jerks in the sky, forwards and
backwards, like a ball tugged between two
spoilt children. INTx3 rolls suggest that
something seems to be concentrating
intense energies on dragging the sun below
the horizon sooner that it ought to set. Each
time the sun is dragged towards the horizon,
it springs back into its rightful position in the
storm-ravaged sky. Astute adventurers will
notice that after each withdrawal the sun
seems that little bit closer to the horizon
than it was previously.
Throughout the city, buildings bubble and
reform into shapes of tortured obsidian
designed by architects from hell. Twisted
statues appear in alcoves and on rooftops,
screaming endlessly. Nothing is recognisable
save the streets themselves, and even they
are paved with iron. The roads of Dhakos
have yet to twist into the insane labyrinth
which are the streets of Hwamgaarl, but even
that cannot be far away.
The artworks may be already gathered, or
not. Perhaps Dharmit had already sent for
them, and the servants who convey the
apparent treasures became the victims of the
curses. Others may be found afterwards, if
there is anything of Dhakos left to find.
Should the adventurers go to collect their
individual gifts in order to return with them
to the palace, they discover each has come to
life in a uniquely horrible way.
YISHANA'S SCULPTURE: the carved
lovers animate, and drag others into
their lusty stone embrace, to be fucked
to death by the possessed jade.
DAMIETTA'S HARP: causes the next
person to pick it up to play the suddenly
razor-sharp metal strings until they
grate their arm down to a bloody stump
or die trying.
TOLK'S TAPESTRY: has a demon bound
within its weave causing people to fall in
lust with the figure of Arnara, to the
exclusion of all else. Food, drink, sleep
become unimportant, only the
consuming passion which eventually
leaves the victim dead upon the floor
where the tapestry is hung. While Tolk
has been gone his batman has become
enamoured of Amara and will fight to
the death to keep the tapestry by his
side.
TOLK’S BATMAN
STR 10 CON 11 SIZ 10 INT 13
POW 11 DEX 13 APP 10
Hit Points: 11 Damage Bonus: None
Armor: None.
Weapon Skill Dmg
Dagger 60% 1d4+2+db
Skills: Bargain 55%, Dodge 45%, Evaluate 60%,
Fast Talk 45%, Insight 70%, Other Language 25%,
Scribe 55%, Search 45%, Young Kingdoms 45%.
If servants have been sent to retrieve Earl
Salan of Greal’s gift, they will not return. The
adventurers – perhaps accompanied by the
king and his lover, perhaps not – must collect
it themselves.
Hwamgaarl Tears Out The Eye Of The Sun
hangs in Greal’s mansion but the wall it was
hung upon is gone. Only the painting
remains. The Greal mansion is a shell of its
former self, its walls ghostly shadows. The
twisted red columns and black marble floor
which have formed around the painting are
much more real and solid.
Above a background chorus of screams and
the shrieking wind, the sound of chanting
can be heard, guttural, horrible, faint at first
but slowly growing in volume. The chants
emanate from the canvas itself, which is
pulsing and rippling as if alive.
True to Halig's word, someone must step into
As the swollen sun teeters upon the low
the rupture in the painting, with one leg in
western hills, the canvas seems to tear and
Dhakos and one leg in the City Of Screaming
an opening appears, a gateway between
Statues, before it can be closed. Once inside
Dhakos and the Palace- Temple of Chaos in
the painting, the adventurer will clearly see
Hwamgaarl. On the other side a skull-
each ‘end’ of the gateway, as if they were
masked man in tattered black robes can be
standing in the centre of a short tunnel
seen, reeling back from the shock of the
between worlds.
opened vortex and incense fuming about
Provided the two Chaos priests are otherwise
him.
engaged, the two separate openings can be
Rows of priests cavort and reel through their
drawn together if their combined POW of 14
dreadful liturgies beyond the Theocrat, for
can be overcome on the resistance table by
the figure is none other less than he. Before
the POW of the person closing the gate.
the adventurers can act, two priests leap
Once the two gates are drawn together
through the gate. They must be killed in
Hwamgaarl and Dhakos are joined: if the
three rounds, or Dhakos is doomed,
canvas is then rolled up or ripped up – by
completely replaced by Hwamgaarl. If
overcoming the STR 4 canvas with the
someone tries to close the painting without
adventurer’s own STR – the gates are closed.
their compatriots holding off the Chaos
Should the gates be joined and the painting
devotees, their attempt is doomed.
left as it is for some reason, then Hwamgaarl
consumes Dhakos completely.
BULL-HORNED PRIEST OF HIONHURN
One thing Halig neglected to mention is that
STR 16 CON 12 SIZ 13 INT 15
the person standing within the painting is at
POW 17 DEX 13 APP 13
risk when the gates are closed; successful
Hit Points: 13 Damage Bonus: 1d4
Jump or Tumble rolls must be made to leap
Armor: Plate without helm (1dl0-1)
clear or else the closing gate neatly bisects
Weapon Skill Damage
the character down the middle, one bloody
Great axe 81% 3d6+db
half falling into Dhakos, the other into
Gore 40% ld6+db
Hwamgaarl.
If it is Yishana who is trapped in this way,
FLAYED PRIEST OF SLORTAR IN she does not die, but the gate, as it closes,
cuts off some of her vibrancy, leaving
FLAPPING ROBES OF SKIN
Yishana a more subdued soul, one now
STR 13 CON 18 SIZ 12 INT 14
instinctively drawn towards the darker side
POW 15 DEX 12 APP 2
of emotions and of life. Her future taste in
Hit Points: 14 Damage Bonus: None
lovers, the Pan Tangian Theleb Kaarna and
Armor: None
albino Elric among them, will reflect this.
Weapon Skill Damage
The gate closed, the sorcery which consumed
Dagger* 50% ld6+2
Dhakos is no more, and instantly the city
* This dagger has wicked serrated edges and
inflicts extra damage.
writhes and twists back into its original
form, the earth rocking like a giant slipping
into a coat a size too small. Dhakos is saved.
Or it might be that the City of Screaming
Statues now stretches across the Pale Sea and
Dhakos is no more, in which case horror and
Jagreen Lern will rule over their newly
conquered dominion and the history of the
Young Kingdoms is forever changed.
 PLAYER CHARACTERS
The following pages provide the background and statistics for
each of the characters used in this scenario.
 PRINCESS YISHANA OF JHARKOR
WARDEN OF THE EASTERN MARCH
Sword maiden, fierce warrior, proud princess, passionate lover. You are tall, dark, sensual and
handsome, with a sardonic and provocative smile. Your conquests are the talk of all Jharkor;
you a living legend and a source of pride to all. Bawdy tavern ballads are sung of your crafty
seduction of the prudish, priggish Prince Hozel of Argimiliar and epics are chanted in the king's
high hall recounting your battles against the knight-marauders of Dharijor and their fearsome
war elephants. You have not yet met any man who could satisfy your every physical and
emotional need (although there have been several who kept you entertained for a short while).
Until you do, you will live without a care in the world save those few obligations your rank and
title demand.

STR 14 CON 14 SIZ 16 INT 14 POW 17 DEX 15 APP 19

Descriptors: 33 years of age, Hooded Eyes, Raven Black Hair, Heavy features, sensual
rather than beautiful
Hit Points: 15 Damage Bonus: +1d4
Armour: Virtuous Plate (1d10+2)
Weapons Skill Damage
Virtuous Great Sword 140% 2D8+db
Broadsword 108% 1d8+1+db
Recurved Hunting Bow 85% 1d8+2+1/2db
Dagger 91% 1d4+2+db

Skills:
Art (Sing) 17%, Bargain 100%, Climb 57%, Conceal Object 26%, Craft (Ropework) 14%,
Disguise 15%, Dodge 92%, Evaluate 47%, Fast Talk 72%, Hide 31%, Insight 70%, Jump
64%, Listen 37%, Million Spheres 00%, Move Quietly 31%, Natural World 25%, Navigate
54%, Oratory 86%, Own Language 70%, Physik 44%, Pick Lock 12%, Poisons 00%.
Repair/Devise 60%, Ride 96%, Sailing 46%, Scent/Taste 25%, Scribe 4%, Search 31%,
Swim 71%, Throw 25%, Track 39%, Trap 19%, Unknown Kingdoms 00%, Young
Kingdoms 59%

Notable Possessions
Virtue of Attack (Greatsword), Virtue of Defence (Armour), Sumptuous Rooms in the
Palace, Chariot and Black Charger
King Dharmit of Jharkor: King Dharmit is your brother, and while a cunning trickster and
daring hero in his youth, he has mellowed with age. He is no longer the bold young man you
worshipped as a child. Now he is almost a greybeard, and spends more time immersed in court
intrigues and international politics than he does defending the kingdom!
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai: One of the King's closest friends, and so of course not to be
trusted, even if he shares the King's bed and loyalty. Dharmit dismisses your fear that Admiral
Askai will one day betray him as ·jealousy, but more than one Jharkorian ruler has ended their
days crucified in the plaza before the palace, due to a treacherous noble's manipulations!
Askai’s command of the Jharkorian navy is sound, his personality charming (even if he is a
little slow) but still you do not trust him. Perhaps you are jealous that he has displaced you as
the focus of your brother's love?
Cardinal Damietta of the Church of Law: This diminutive priestess reminds you of your
mother, despite the physical differences between them. Short, grey-haired and rosy cheeked,
she has a spine of iron and a will to match. Even at the best of times Cardinal Damietta strikes
you as flinty and unforgiving. You should hate to have her anger focused on you. Even so, you
think Damietta cares more about power than she does about her gods, the Lords of Order.
Earl Salan Of Greal: Vile beyond words. A degenerate from an ignoble House of wastrels and
cads. It was an Earl of Greal whose insurrection toppled Queen Jashyan the Haughty 150 years
ago, although the Greals’ fortunes have fallen low since then. The current Earl of Greal's father
drank away the family fortune, causing his wife to die of grief, then kept on drinking all the
way to the grave. Salan seems to have picked up his sire's ill-manners if not his alcoholism.
And to think the ugly little pauper thinks himself a refined, well-educated gentleman!
Count Tolk Varan, Commander of the City Guard: A lesser noble, tall, handsome, aloof and
cold. You know only that he inspires devotion in his men and is a superb warrior and tactician,
which is common knowledge. You have not yet had time to test how skilled the Count is with
his sword. To Dharmit you owe the only personal details you know about the Count: that he
aspires to culture and worships Chaos. A man of contradictions it would seem, battle-hardened
yet a scholar. It would be good to know him more intimately. Certainly, he does not seem the
disciple of evil that Cardinal Damietta claims followers of Chaos to be, but then you never really
did believe everything the Church of Law has told you over the years.
 CARDINAL DAMIETTA OF THE
CHURCH OF DONBLAS
Short and rosy cheeked, with close-cropped grey hair and grey eyes to match, you are stern yet
loving, as a mother must be to punish an errant child. The people of Jharkor are your children
in so many ways, with you the bride of Lord Donblas of Law, He Who Burns Away The Darkness
Of Chaos And Gives Light To The Faithful. It has taken you many years to attain your current
position, and it was not achieved through praying and devotion. Much of it was machination,
scheming, making deals with this priest and that, and if you could betray both to a third priest
to bolster your position, then you would do so without blinking. At last you are Jharkor’s High
Priestess, Cardinal of the Church Of Law and one of the supreme authorities of the land – only
to now have your position threatened by the Church of Chaos. Just a few months ago, despite
your best efforts to the contrary, the long-standing law forbidding Chaos worship in Jharkor
was repealed. Now, the disciples of Entropy have half completed a temple to their foul gods
opposite your own Cathedral of Law. Somehow, they must be stopped!

STR 13 CON 17 SIZ 8 INT 21 POW 20 DEX 10 APP 16

Descriptors: 51 years of age, Short and stern, Red Cheeks, Eyes that are either cold or
sparkle
Hit Points: 13 Damage Bonus: None
Armour: Virtuous Plate (1d10+2)
Weapons Skill Damage
Virtuous Long Spear 100% 1d10+1+db

Skills:
Art (Sing) 67%, Bargain 93%, Climb 23%, Conceal Object 62%, Craft (Ropework) 18%,
Disguise 15%, Dodge 29%, Evaluate 71%, Fast Talk 83%, Hide 68%, Insight 83%, Jump
28%, Listen 99%, Million Spheres 00%, Move Quietly 82%, Natural World 72%,
Navigate 53%, Oratory 97%, Own Language 100%, Physik 94%, Pick Lock 10%, Poisons
26%. Repair/Devise 40%, Ride 62%, Sailing 46%, Scent/Taste 36%, Scribe 26%, Search
92%, Swim 19%, Throw 23%, Track 40%, Trap 05%, Unknown Kingdoms 00%, Young
Kingdoms 63%

Notable Possessions
Virtue of Attack (Spear), Virtue of Defence (Armour), Virtue of Knowledge (Jewelled
Book), Virtue of Travel (Iron Horse)
King Dharmit of Jharkor A good king despite his rash youth, and one you thought you could
control via his fear of the White Lords and their divine vengeance (or yours in their name);
especially as his lover Captain-Admiral Askai is a devout follower of Law. Somehow the evil
Count Varan, Captain of the Dhakos Guard and Chaos fiend, has led the King astray! The ban
against Chaos must be reinstated before the Theocrat of Pan Tang rules Jharkor as he does foul
Dharijor to the north.
Princess Yishana, Warden of the Eastern March: Sister of King Dharmit, the hot-headed and
lusty princess is not a frequent member of your congregation, despite Lord Donblas having so
clearly gifted her with His warrior arts. If she cannot be convinced to pay more than lip service
to Law, she shall surely be punished by the gods. (You'll have to see what you can arrange –
some embarrassing accident or social disease to tarnish her reputation? The populace lap up
news of her every battle and seduction; in fact they adore her. It must be done discreetly).
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai: A good soldier and faithful worshipper of Law, and so an
inspiration to the population of Dhakos and Jharkor at large. Luckily, he is not too bright, it
makes him nicely controllable. Despite his slow wits, the Admiral is a tactical genius, and is
common enough to fight alongside and so inspire devotion in his men.
Count Tolk Varan, Commander of the City Guard: Tall dark and handsome, but you know evil
lurks behind his impassive and emotionless visage. Your spies had long ago reported rumours
of Varan's allegiance to Chaos, but so discrete was the man you could find no evidence to
convict him of heresy. Reading High Melnibonéan in itself is not a crime. Now he has openly
confessed his unbridled corruption, but only after twisting the King's mind into allowing the
worship of Chaos in your land!
Earl Salan of Greal: This noble is heard more regularly than he is seen around court, usually
arguing with someone about art and other fripperies. Despite his poverty (his father drank
away the family fortune) and threadbare estate he tries to maintain standards, too proud to
confess to his fallen state and too well-educated and well-bred to try and raise money by
dabbling in the merchant trade. His hopeless passion for Princess Yishana, if she could be
encouraged to return his affections, might be the key to the wilful young lady’s control.
 EARL SALAN OF GREAL
Woe to you! That your father should have drunk your family fortune away is shame enough,
condemning you to dwell in an impoverished state in a threadbare mansion that is falling
apart around your ears. Almost all the servants have gone (one of them stealing the silverware
in lieu of the wages you owed) and already you have been forced to sell off volumes from your
library in order to buy food. But no matter how bad things get, you have vowed never to sell
anything from your pride and joy, the magnificent art collection assembled by your
grandmother and added to by you in happier days before your father died. Worse still than
your financial state is that of your emotions: you bear a hopeless, unconsummated and
virtually unspoken passion for Princess Yishana, who spurns you. How can you tell her that
beneath this ugly shell beats the heart of a true gentleman? You must impress her with your
learning and good breeding. Your love, and art, should be your only concerns. Money will come
from somewhere – the nobility do not besmirch themselves with such common, tawdry
subjects.

STR 12 CON 15 SIZ 11 INT 15 POW 10 DEX 9 APP 11

Descriptors: 43 years of age, Average Height, Pudgy, Curly Red hair - oiled
Hit Points: 13 Damage Bonus: None
Armour: Embroidered Leather (1d6-1)
Weapons Skill Damage
Rapier 88% 1d6+1+db
Dagger 76% 1d4+2+db

Skills:
Art Lore 86%, Art (Sing) 31%, Art (Music) 34%, Bargain 51%, Climb 16%, Conceal Object
11%, Craft (Paint) 21%, Disguise 18%, Dodge 25%, Evaluate 72%, Fast Talk 57%, Hide 20%,
Insight 41%, Jump 18%, Listen 31%, Million Spheres 00%, Move Quietly 24%, Natural
World 25%, Navigate 10%, Oratory 62%, Other Language (Low Melnibonéan) 28%, Own
Language 75%, Physik 30%, Pick Lock 11%, Poisons 00%. Repair/Devise 36%, Ride 48%,
Sailing 15%, Scent/Taste 42%, Scribe 00%, Search 54%, Swim 33%, Throw 28%, Track
17%, Trap 8%, Unknown Kingdoms 00%, Young Kingdoms 52%

Notable Possessions
Snuff box, Lace Handkerchief, Crumbling Mansion in the Old City District, Fabulous
Art Collection
King Dharmit Of Jharkor: His Majesty is wise and tolerant, basing his assessment of a person
on their deeds rather than their financial worth. That he has time for one so poorly treated by
fate can surely be due only to the proud history of your family name. Admittedly it’s awkward
that one of your ancestor once helped depose Queen Jashyan the Haughty 150 years ago, but
the less said of that incident the better – besides, according to your research your ancestor
acted honourably: Jashyan was a secret worshipper of a Chaos Lord, Slortar the Beautiful.
Princess Yishana, Warden of the Eastern March: Tall, stunning, breathtaking. She is
everything you are not – a skilled warrior, rich and beautiful. If only you could make her love
you! Sometimes you sob with helpless longing for her, so overwhelming are her feelings. How
can you make her see that beneath your plump exterior beats a heart of gold?
Cardinal Damietta of Law: A woman to be respected and feared. Supreme priestess of Law in
Jharkor, Damietta is a pillar of society, an upholder of virtue and the teachings which hold
civilisation together. In Chaos is destruction and disorder, while the White Lords of Law give
us light to see the path which leads us away from our baser natures towards spirit and
salvation.
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai: Blond and slightly vague, Athven Askai makes you
uncomfortable. You never liked men so energetic, nor so conceited about their good looks, and
although you know there is nothing wrong with men who like other men, that it is perfectly
natural, whenever the Captain-Admiral is around you always feel like he is looking at you as
if you were a piece of meat rather than a person. Still, the King seems to like him, and you have
heard no ill reports about him from his men.
Count Tolk Varan, Commander of the City Guard: You were shocked to discover that Count
Varan, whom you had always thought to be a decent and Law-abiding person, has turned out
to be a degenerate worshipper of Chaos! Why, you have even heard a rumour that he is
subverting the entire Dhakos city guard to the worship of his foul gods, so to have a secret army
who are faithful only to him; and that he sacrifices those who will not obey his despotic rule
in a secret shrine constructed beneath his home...
 COUNT TOLK VARAN
COMMANDER OF THE CITY GUARD
You are one who has learnt much from the lessons of history. Although a man of action,
commanding the Dhakos guards, you are also a scholar. The lost wonders of the Bright Empire
of Melniboné are your special interest. Some of your behaviour, such as your unwillingness to
allow emotions to influence your decisions and actions, is styled on Melnibonéan behaviour,
as far as you understand it. You do not believe Melnibonéan to be the demons that common
gossips claim, nor that the Chaos which they worship is intrinsically evil. Chaos can be is
beautiful, the beauty of freedom and change rather than the unquestioning stagnation of Law.
You favour Arioch above other gods, but if pressed you wouldn’t exactly say you worship him;
more that you pay him appropriate deference as befits the Knight of the Swords. Despite your
slow rise through the ranks to become a landed noble, albeit a minor one, you are less proud
of your command than you are of persuading the King to repeal the law forbidding the worship
of Chaos in Jharkor. Admittedly you could not have reached the King's ear without your
position, for which you have your well-trained guardsmen and their efficient abeyance of your
regulations to thank.

STR 15 CON 13 SIZ 16 INT 17 POW 14 DEX 15 APP 17

Descriptors: 35 years of age, Tall, Distant, Waves of long, dark, shoulder-length hair
Hit Points: 14 Damage Bonus: +1d4
Armour: Full Plate & Helm (1d10+2)
Weapons Skill Damage
Broadsword 135% 1d8+1+db
Recurved Hunting Bow 78% 1d8+2+1/2db
Dagger 94% 1d4+2+db
Shield (Full) 105% knockback+1d4+db
Lance (when mounted) 87% 1d8+1+horse’s db

Skills:
Art (Sing) 13%, Bargain 67%, Climb 67%, Conceal Object 21%, Craft (Ropework) 27%,
Disguise 19%, Dodge 84%, Evaluate 42%, Fast Talk 73%, Hide 32%, Insight 54%, Jump
53%, Listen 61%, Million Spheres 00%, Move Quietly 37%, Natural World 25%, Navigate
31%, Oratory 68%, Own Language 70%, Other Language (Low Melnibonéan) 40%, Other
Language (High Melnibonéan) 35%, Physik 61%, Pick Lock 17%, Poisons 00%.
Repair/Devise 60%, Ride 91%, Sailing 58%, Scent/Taste 25%, Scribe 72%, Search 76%,
Swim 55%, Throw 53%, Track 66%, Trap 19%, Unknown Kingdoms 40%, Young
Kingdoms 60%

Notable Possessions
Small volume of Melnibonean Poetry, Suite of Rooms at the Harbour Barracks
King Dharmit Of Jharkor: Dharmit is wise as a king should be, the rashness of his youth
tempered with the heavy concerns of nurturing and defending a kingdom and its people. He is
open minded, although you recognise with wry humour his decision to allow open Chaos
worship in Jharkor was partially motivated by the knowledge that the Church of Law would
turn their schemes against the new Chaos priesthood instead of plotting to exploit His Majesty's
rule for their own gain.
Princess Yishana, Warden of the Eastern March: Too proud for your liking, although she is a
fine warrior. Because of her brave deeds against Dharijorian raiders and her sexual conquests,
Yishana is much loved and talked about by the people. She needs someone to knock her down
a peg or two.
Cardinal Damietta Of Law: You dislike this woman and know that she hates you. Her narrow-
minded bigotry against the Church of Chaos is maddening, her bias based only upon rumours
about Pan Tang, where Chaos is worshipped as a perversion of the grandeur and wonder of
Melniboné of old.
Captain-Admiral Athven Askai: Not the quickest-witted man you have met, but at least no
threat to you. He is the King's lover, commanding the Jharkorian navy and the respect of his
men. Still, to outshine him in the King's eyes would elevate your position greatly, and any
influence you gain could only be for the benefit of Chaos.
Earl Salan Of Greal: Poor in fortune but well-educated and well mannered. He has a hopeless
passion for Princess Yishana, but she is too proud to ever look at one so plain as he. You do not
know the Earl well, but have heard that he has a fine collection of art. Perhaps he has
Melnibonéan pieces that might improve your own modest collection? It might be to your
advantage to know Salan better.
 HANDOUTS
The Following Handouts can be used as required during this
scenario

ABOUT THE SLAVE-ARTIST HALIG

BORN IN LORMYR, Halig of Alorasaz (356-395 Y.K.) was a genius and one of the
greatest artists the Young Kingdoms has ever seen. He began speaking at one year old;
by four years old he was already painting and while his juvenilia is considered crude in
comparison to his later works, such pieces still sell for a rich price in the art markets of
Raschil, Menii, Kariss, Old Hrolmar and Karlaak. Halig committed suicide by self-
mutilation five years ago, in the year 395 Y.K., aged 39.
Among his best-known works is the marble statue known as ‘The Mirath of Iosaz’; a
superb 40-foot high depiction of Mirath of Law which stands in the Necropolis of Iosaz,
on the Southern Continent, and carved when Halig was only 21.
Already an exceptional artist in his youth, Halig was captured by raiding Pan Tangian
pirates aged 23, during a voyage to the Isle of the Purple Towns, where he had been
commissioned to paint a fresco in the great Guildhouse of Utkel.
Halig’s skills as an artist were only heightened during his time on Pan Tang, despite
undergoing crippling torture at the hands of the Chaos priests of Balan. Driven half mad
by the pain, and left unable ever to walk again, Halig began to feverishly design and
create sculptures, buildings and paintings of breathtakingly beautiful, terrifyingly awful
intensity. Most of these remain upon Pan Tang and are only ever seen by the inhabitants
of that grim isle.
After 10 years of hell on Pan Tang, Halig escaped via a Virtue of Travel expressed in the
form of a painting. Appearing in thin air above the congregation in a Ramasaz cathedral,
then falling screaming and laughing upon them, did little for Halig’s health – or state of
mind. It did, however, mark his return to fame – and the advent of his most creative
period to date. Six years later he was dead.
The last few months of Halig’s life are now the best documented. From a hospice in
Ramasaz he feverishly painted canvas after canvas, screaming and laughing as he
twitched over the easel placed beside his bed. Now hopelessly insane, Halig reached his
peak in the madhouse. The 171 paintings he produced there – almost a painting a day –
and a handful of small but exquisite sculptures are now jealously collected by the nobles
of the Young Kingdom’s more civilised nations.
 A HEROES GUIDE TO JHARKOR
JHARKOR COMPETES WITH its fearsome neighbour, Dharijor, for dominance of the

Western Continent and is one of the Young Kingdoms’ greatest naval powers thanks

to a vast natural harbor, despite having only a relatively small coastline to call its

own. Only the merchant fleets of Ilmiora and the Purple Towns, the cumbersome

Lormyrian navy and Dharijor’s sleek, swift reavers rival Jharkor’s armada and its

dominance of the five oceans – though all are dwarfed by the Battle Barges of

Melniboné on the increasingly rare occasions such vessels are seen outside the Dragon

Isle.

Jharkor is a nation of endless golden grasslands grazed by cattle and spotted deer,

and low plains dotted with scrub and small wooded hills. To the west the landmass

rises towards steeper hills which grow into slender, snow-capped, scarcely-populated

mountains.

Fierce wildcats live in the mountains and leopards prowl the forested foothills,

sometimes stalking out onto the plains, to the dismay of farmers. The Silver Leopards,

Jharkor’s elite troops and the King’s guard, are named after these wild beasts.

Another low mountain range spotted with sparse forests defines the border of

Jharkor’s northernmost neighbor, Tarkesh. South of these mountains run a series of

fortifications and military bases, known collectively as Tovik’s Wall and delineating

the boundary with warlike Dharijor, Jharkor’s greatest rival.

Six provinces make up the Jharkorian countryside: Dhakoria (which includes the

capital), Gharavia, Mygrava, Halorra, northern Sequa (home to rippling wheat fields)

and the Eastern Marches (where incursions by Dharijorians are not uncommon

despite the heavily fortified border).

The Jharkorian plains are warm and dry, the coastal regions cooler. Southern

Jharkor receives regular rainfall while the northern, eastern and western provinces

are considerably drier. Along the southern coast, near Shazar, isolated pockets of

mangroves grow. Further north, especially around the capital, the coast is dominated

by low cliffs and deep but narrow inlets where small ships can easily be hidden.

Jharkor is ruled by Law, but worship of Chaos has recently been allowed within its

borders. King Dharmit sits on the throne, playing his nobles off against one another

endlessly.

Page 1
The people of Jharkor have something of a reputation for intrigue, which is

considered almost a national sport. The best thieves and liars in the Young Kingdoms

are said to be Jharkorian (or Jharks, as they were known in the distant past).

In summer the prevailing winds blow from the north-east, bringing hot and dry

weather from Dharijor – as well as pirates and border skirmishes, despite the peace

treaty signed by Dharijor with her neighbours. In winter, southerly winds dominate,

bringing heavy rains and fogs from the Boiling Sea.

NEIGHBOURING LANDS
Beyond Jharkor’s borders to the north-west, in the remote fastness of the mountains,

are the aeries of the Myyrrhn, winged folk who are occasional visitors to Dhakos,

though more commonly seen in the outer provinces.

To the north-east is Dharijor, the most powerful nation in the West, ruled by cruel

King Sarosto. The peace treaty signed between Dharijor, Jharkor and Tarkesh means

little – Dharijor’s black-plumed warriors raid with impunity along the coast, and their

incursions into the Eastern Marches, occasionally even into Sequa, are becoming

increasingly brazen. It’s capital, Gromoorva, is one and a half to two days from

Dhakos by ship.

Further north are the forests and fastnesses of Tarkesh, ruled by King Yaris, a tall,

pale-faced, thin-lipped man full of irony and always a trifle insecure. A swift ship can

sail from Dhakos to Banarva, the capital, in four days, if the captain is brave enough

to hug the coast of Dharijor and pass through the Straits of Chaos, a place of eternal

storms where malevolent sea creatures lurk below the waves. More commonly, trade

between Jharkor and Tarkesh is conducted overland.

South lies Shazar, a land of lush grasslands, rolling downs, thick fogs and mossy

forests of ancient oaks and ash trees. Here, horseflesh is the dominant trade, and

equestrian skills are raised to a high art. The Shazarian capital, Aflitain, is some three

to four days south of Dhakos, at the northern edge of the Serpents Teeth.

South-west of Shazar are found the Marshes of the Mist, and beyond them the Silent

Land, of which the less said the better, while off the Shazarian coast rise the Serpent’s

Teeth, a hundred-mile reefs of crags and islands where the winds and tides are

unpredictable, and the only the bravest and foolhardiest mariners sail.

Page 2
Jharkor’s other neighbor of note is the Demon Isle of Pan Tang, whose capital

Hwamgaarl is five days distant across treacherous seas. Few mariners visit that

accursed city, at least of their own volition.

DHAKOS, CITY OF SPIRES

Windswept Dhakos is the sprawling capital of Jharkor. Extending for several miles

across the coastal plain towards a series of low hills and wide, shallow valleys that

abut a slightly steeper and encircling range to the west, it is an expansive city built up

around Dhakos Harbour, one of the best ports of the Young Kingdoms. The spires of

the Old City at the heart of Dhakos can be seen throughout the city, and for several

miles inland or out to sea.

Flanked by low sea cliffs along the coast, Dhakos is the capital of the province of

Dhakoria as well as Jharkor as a whole. Storms (including sudden downpours and

violent hailstorms) are common in the hot summers when the dry northerly winds

collide with moister southern air masses, while winters are colder and wetter still.

Snow is virtually unknown.

Dhakos can be divided into three main parts: the Harbour, the Old City, and

Newtown. However, given the many small bays and coves which fringe the Harbour

proper, making direct travel across the city challenging and fragmenting Dhakos into

a city of many districts, Dhakosians are often quicker to identity as a resident of their

own district first rather than as a resident of the city proper – one of many factors

which contributes to the fractured, internecine and devious interactions of its

citizens.

THE OLD CITY

The Old City – the original Dhakos – is encircled by a crumbling brick wall, long

outgrown and its guard-posts abandoned. It encircles the political and religious

heart of Dhakos; the Palace of King Dharmit, the Cathedral of Law, and the still

under-construction Temple of Chaos.

Although Jharkor allegedly pays lip service to Law, it amuses King Dharmit to allow

Chaos to establish a toehold in Jharkor. That way the priests of Law plot against their

rivals, not him. Worship of Chaos was only recently decriminalised though secret

adherents of Entropy have long haunted the many-spired city.

Page 3
In the Old City stand the buildings which give Dhakos its name. Every second building

here seems to be peaked by spires, erected in flattering imitation of Melniboné,

Jharkor’s ancient masters. Part of a fashion which swept the country 250 years ago,

the spires are a crude copy of Imrryr to those who have seen the Dreaming City, which

was built by artists and conceived as an artwork rather than as a living metropolis

erected by clumsy human hands.

Every major street in the city, new or old, has an open sewer flowing down its centre.

In the high heat of summer, the stench is vile, and outbreaks of cholera are not

uncommon. Luckily the constant sea breezes carry the worst of the odours away,

except in the narrow streets of the Old City. For this reason, the majority of the

nobility have made an exodus to the city’s outskirts, to the larger estates and gardens

which ring Dhakos.

At the heart of the Old City is the city square. More than one king of Jharkor has died

here, crucified when the nobility led the people in insurrection. Public crucifixions of

criminals are held here throughout the year; in summer, the stink of rotting bodies

mingles nauseatingly with the city’s open sewers.

On the northern side of the square stands the Temple of Law, which has only a single

spire, constructed of a beautiful, almost lace-like network of stone tracery and

supported by stone buttresses arcing over the central garden. Facing it is the Temple

of Chaos, which is still under construction on the square’s southern side and which

will boast eight spires in total when complete.

On the west side of the city square stands the Royal Palace, the bright flag of Jharkor

flying from its roof and the homes of painted and powdered courtesans less than a

stone’s throw away.

A broad, curving avenue leading to the harbor opens off the east side of the square;

the broadest boulevard in Dhakos, and a relatively recent addition to the city. On the

boulevard’s north side stand the barracks of the Silver Leopards, close to the palace

but also well-situated should an urgent sortie to the harbor be required.

Also found in the Old City are the grand houses of the nobility, though many now

stand empty. Most of the nobles have moved to large estates at the edge of the city, in

search of cleaner and cooler air. Some of their houses are now occupied by the

growing merchant class; others crumble slowly into ruin.

Page 4
THE HARBOUR
As befits such a strong seafaring nation, Dhakos Harbour is rivalled in size only by the

Dreaming City and the Fortress of Evening. Heavily fortified in case of attack by Pan

Tangian or Dharijorian raiders, the harbour mouth is flanked by two high guard

towers doubling as lighthouses and armed with ballistae and catapults, as well as

many archers. The naval barracks occupy an entire district of Harbourside, bordering

the shipyards.

The harbour’s shores are lined with wharves, piers, shipyards, warehouses, brothels,

fisher-villages and boats of every variety – with more than half the harbour

dominated by the ships of the Jharkorian navy. Merchant vessels are also plentiful.

Several small islands dot the harbour, the largest of which is home to the Temple of

Tovik Victorious, a Lord of Law. According to legend, this island – his most sacred

shrine – was the site of an ancient battle between Tovik and the Chaos Duke Mabelode,

almost five thousand years ago. After a long fight Tovik was eventually victorious. He

threw Mabelode down with such force that his fall ruptured the earth, allowing the

ocean to flood in and creating the Bay of Dhakos. The island, formerly a mountain,

was all that remained above water after the floods subsided.

Districts around the Harbour include Cheapside, Port-Town (the mercantile district),

Crows-Nest (a raised area on the northern side of the harbor popular amongst

retired seamen), The Stews (a notorious slum), Shipyards (where naval vessels are

built and sailors congregate), Boatyards (one of several districts dominated by fishing

fleets), Fokesule (a small hill on the southside, where privateers congregate) and

Eight-Bells, dominated by the temple of Straasha and churches dedicated to a number

of the Lords of Law, Arkyn Tide-Lord, Mirath, Goldar and Mardek of the Full Urn.

Streets throughout the Harbour district are wide and winding, and routinely clogged

with foot traffic, riders, and horse and ox-carts laden with produce from across the

Young Kingdoms.

THE NEW CITY

The bulk of Dhakos stretches out around the old city. Most buildings here are built of

mud brick rather than stone and stand only one or two stories high. Instead of spires

they have gently pitched wooden or slate-shingled roofs. Newer than the Old City and

the Harbour, the oldest buildings here are still over 200 years old.

Page 5
The serfs of the city live here, labouring in mills and granaries. As every Jharkorian

over 15 years of age must serve a compulsory six months military or naval training,

the barracks of the golden-armoured cavalry and the plainly armoured infantry are

also found in the New City.

Other residents of the New City labour in the fields and the estates of the nobility, on

the outskirts of Dhakos, whose gardens are as grandiose as the buildings they inhabit.

Page 6