Canids in Liangyu

         For as long as Man can remember, the clans of the dogmen have descended from the Imavant to claim land for themselves. While the long struggle bred resentment towards the species, there were some canid tribes that impressed the Dukes with their skill and honor. When the rebellion broke out the old Duke, wary of a war on two fronts, brokered an alliance with these clans. In exchange for their help, they received land. Some were settled in the westernmost valleys to keep any other canids outs. Others were given fiefdoms conquered from the King's vassals.

        This was not wildly popular at the time, but many Shan have gradually come to accept it. The canids have proved dependable allies and bold comrades in battle. Being carnivores, they subsist on hunting and herding. So whenever the humans are tied down with the harvest, the dogmen are still available to guard the front or run raids-- much like the wooden legions of the east. As for the Xin, they have been widely accepting of the new arrangement, being used to all manner of strange folk who cross the desert to trade with them.

        Canids are still banned by law from entering Hei Chao itself, but several of the chieftains attend the Autumn Feast in Zhigen. Many canids have taken up human beliefs and practices. Some incorporate Zaldohin into the Liangyese pantheon, others identify him with the Lord of Heaven. The canids in Bao have taken to wearing silk and have even established a memorial hall to their ancestors. The emphasis on familial loyalty and piety appeals to them innately.

        Canids seem to have a more intense sense of morality and loyalty than many humans do, although their exact definition of such things may differ strongly. Exactly how this plays out in the lands they hold is a matter of debate. The men of the west hold them up as exemplars of virtue, and say that the human peasants who tend their herds utter no word of complaint. The easterners rejoin that any who do speak up are likely to end up in the cooking pots of their inhuman masters. Lurid accusations aside, some critics point out that the canids are likely to multiply and require more land. They feel that a repeat of the old war seems inevitable-- this time in the heart of Liangyu itself.

The Last Fortress

 No fiction this time. I had a difficult time coming up with what Lust's stronghold should be. I finally settled on a dungeon. But then I ran into another difficulty. The AI art generator blocks the prompt "Dungeon of Lust" for some reason (can't imagine why). So I had to cheat a little. The first set was generated with the prompt "The Dungeon of Longing."

And the next set was generated by the prompt "The Prison of Desire".

Hopefully I'll get back to Liangyu next week.

The Hall of Gluttony

        There are acres upon acres of fields and pastures, orchards and stocked lakes. As you draw nearer, you pass bakeries and confectionaries, breweries and factories. The hall itself is set upon a hill. Once there was a pleasant garden here, but that is long gone. In its place is a sprawling compound. The back is given to vast kitchens and stockyards. Smoke and steam rise unremittingly from a forest of chimneys. The front of the structure is shaped like the head of some gargantuan boar, with the entrance lying in its open maw. A red carpet leads up to it. From within issues a smell like a thousand dive bar dumpsters.

        The Cult of the Tongue hold their debauch incessantly, with a fervor that eclipses most saner faiths. Each member trades years of promise for days of indulgence, in a vain attempt to infinitise the ephemeral. To be sure, you may leave if you will. But the wills of most here have swiftly atrophied.

        Newcomers to the cult earn their place within the first hall, Edacity. Its red walls and Corinthian columns glow dully under a wan sun. Stripped like athletes for the course, the neophytes rowdily begin. Some sample as many different varieties as they can; others gorge themselves on the same thing repeatedly. Troughs for vomiting stand against the walls. These beginners must still purge their stomachs occasionally to continue the meal. Once they no longer require this step, they are ready to move on to the next hall, Gulosity.

        Gulosity is more sedate, if only because those who make it here have begun to lose the use of their legs. Solomonic pillars hold up the vaulted ceiling. Two long tables hold the course. Wax of a thousand scented candles pools on the pea-green tablecloth, catching crumbs and other fragments. Servants are quick to whisk away empty trays and replace them with fresh viands. Some is organic, birthed from the earth and blessed by the sun. Some is sludge churned from a machine. All is defiled by Gluttony's touch.

        The marble floor is slick with spilt drinks, vomit and worse things. There are privies and washrooms nearby but most cannot bear (mentally or in some cases bodily) to leave the table for so long, and have brought chamber pots with them to do their necessary business in. Pages stand in the shadows, ready to empty them when filled.

        In side chambers are sunken dens for consumers of hashish, opium, and other drugs. The Halls cater to those who seek nothing beyond the present. The Dens are for those who reject even that gift. Here intoxicants and narcotics of all kinds are to be found-- anything that dulls or distorts the senses. All is for the asking, in extreme overabundance. The mind is destroyed some time before the flesh finally gives out. Bodies are regularly carted out from here and dumped in the fishpond or the pigs' feeding grounds.

        The final hall, Esurience, is for the most devoted. A more intimate setting, but no less ornate. Fruits the size of skulls are piled against the wall. Crows fly through the hall, tearing live flesh from guests so engrossed in their feasting that they do not notice that they themselves are being consumed. Swarms of flies and other insects buzz around the heaps of decaying food.

        Looking around, one sees evidence of bodily corruption. Tumors, immense folds of fat, skin stretched near to the bursting point. But it is the souls that are the most debased. It is not unheard of for one guest, craving something new, to attempt to devour his neighbor.

        When one of Gluttony's elites can truly eat no more, they are congratulated and ushered down a long stairway. Far below the overburdened foundations of the house lies a vast cavern, hollowed out by eons' worth of grease and refuse. The Lord of Excess reclines in a great pit in the center. Gluttony on his throne resembles nothing so much as a corpulent maggot feasting on humanity. Here his Perfected are brought before him, having fattened to the ultimate limit. One by one they are lowered into his ever-gaping jaws, too bloated to even think, much less scream.

Tombs of the Xin

    I have hitherto refrained from addressing the rather distasteful subject of graverobbing. However, as I know many among my readers take part in (and in some cases have developed a reputation for) this practice, I am bound to touch upon it.

    The Xin tombs (at least the ones worth plundering) are generally laid out in a spiral pattern ascending toward the center, representing the soul's journey up the World Mountain to the Bright Halls. This is known as the Luóxuán style. But the various executions of this theme may differ wildly. A tomb may be at the summit of mountain. Another may be on an upper level of a tower wrapped in a coiling stairway. Or the path to the tomb may be underground within an artificial mound. Always the path will spiral inward, clockwise, generally with stations as checkpoints representing the Heavenly Barricades of popular belief. There may be side passages containing treasure or ceremonial artifacts.

    Traps are to be expected, as are supernatural guardians. Unlike most Liangyese, the Xin do not utilize ghosts as guardians. They feel that to keep a man's soul trapped in such a way is to deprive him of his destined apotheosis-- a worse crime than even murder. Necromancers who dabble in such activities are advised to not draw attention to themselves while sojourning here. But "animated" corpses (which function on a basic set of spells without any need for full sapience) are allowed, as they are in the rest of the country. There are also tomb guardians of a more otherworldly nature.

    Five or six centuries ago, it chanced that two wizards arrived in Xin from parts unknown, bringing arcane lore from their own distant homelands. At that time a particularly ruthless breed of tomb raiders were operating in the area, and the Xin were eager for stronger security measures. Enter Talhaller and Beshu. These two hired themselves out and summoned familiars to fill the role of immortal sentries. Their business rivalry was the stuff of legends, and their dedication to the hustle impressed even the Xin. Talhaller's particular brand of sprite was the Guardian, a capriform entity armed with a spear and capable of long leaps. Beshu, on the other hand, summoned the Watcher, a large floating eyeball with a vast set of powerful tentacles. Both species are to be considered highly dangerous.

    If you do decide to plunder a tomb, there are several factors to consider. First, it may well have been plundered long before you got there. Second, the local gangs may present a problem getting in or out. A crime lord may decide to back you if you present it to him nicely and ofer him a cut-- but only if he thinks your plan will succeed. Of course you should first make sure he isn't closely related to the deceased, or too concerned about divine retribution. Law enforcement presents its own set of headaches. I am told that the local rates for bribery are considerably higher than would otherwise be typical, due to a variety of economic reasons.

    These days, of course, the Xin are more enlightened and have left off placing fabulous riches in their graves. Modern dogma states that the gods really fancy pewter and stone, having plenty of gold and silver up there already. Basically any tomb built in the last hundred years is not going to be worth your time.

    My scribe Hoshab informs me that I am legally obligated to state the following: The Cutthroat's Compleat Guide to Liangyu does not endorse the plundering of tombs and the desecrating of corpses. The author does not offer advice in the hopes of encouraging any manner of illegal or immoral activity, and will not be held responsible if said activity results in unpleasant consequences for any parties involved. On your own head be it.