Minor Crimes
Minor crimes rarely warrant a significant prison sentence; it is rare for
someone to do time in the Castle after being convicted of a minor crime.
Instead, the punishments for committing most minor crimes include
hefty fines, financial restitution, probationary status, service to the
community, and short stints in district jails.
Fighting in Public
Most of the time, officers of the Watch do not make arrests for fighting in
public unless one of the following exceptional circumstances occurs: if one
of the fighters is seriously injured to the point of needing the attentions of
a physicker, if the fight threatens to endanger bystanders or cause serious
property damage, or if the fight so disturbs the peace that the Watch
receives complaints from other citizens.
Intervening in the Affairs of the Crown
The City Watch frequently uses this broad, catch-all term to justify
arrests for everything from getting on an officer’s bad side all the way
up to helping (whether intentionally or incidentally) a criminal escape
pursuit. The Crown can charge a citizen with intervening in the affairs
of the Crown any time the City Watch makes a case that the person was
somehow distracting an officer from performing their duties, or if they
allege that legal action on behalf of agents of the Crown was delayed
by that person’s action or inaction. In practice, the City Watch uses
this minor charge to justify bullying the Right Kind of People without
evidence of a crime, and its broadness makes it easy to put someone
behind bars for just about any reason, at least for a short period of time.
Lying to an Officer of the Crown
Attempts to verbally (or through omission) deceive an agent of the
Crown, or any efforts to disguise the truth or hide a person’s identity, fall
under the charge of lying to an officer of the Crown. This charge is placed
on top of other charges as a result of an investigation and rarely sees
prosecution on its own.
Pickpocketing
Distinct from the high crime of theft largely in method and value,
pickpocketing is a covers any theft of an object from the person of
another citizen. This crime was made distinct from theft due to its
ubiquity; the Castle simply could not hold the number of petty thieves
found guilty of this crime.
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Trespassing
A crime invoked by the nobility and merchants to banish undesirables
from their districts, the City Watch rarely treats trespassing as serious
enough to warrant anything more than a pair of officers asking someone
to move along. If a person refuses to vacate the premises, or if the
trespassing event is more complex or serious (for example, if a large
number of people trespass all at once), the Watch sometimes makes
arrests to send a message, though usually the person being arrested is
released from the district jail within a day.
Unlicensed Gambling
Gambling is a tightly regulated business in New Dunhaven, and these
laws actually protect the poorer citizens of the city more than the nobility.
Gambling licenses are granted only to upscale casinos and gambling halls
that cater to wealthy clientele; any unlicensed organized gambling is likely
being used to take advantage of people who don’t have a lot of money to
lose, and the Crown frequently makes arrests and imposes heavy fines on
people who violate this law.
Unsanctioned Dueling
Duels sanctioned by a representative of the Crown (usually a lieutenant or
Captain of the Watch in the district) are legal and highly regulated. Legal
duels must be entered into willingly by both parties, and the sanctioning
officer must agree that the grievance between them is irreconcilable.
Anyone can issue a challenge for a duel to another party, though a
commoner cannot issue a challenge to a noble. Duels are carried out with
knives or swords, and all duels must end when one participant draws the
blood of the other. In case of an accidental death during a duel, the victor
must pay restitution to the family of the deceased.
Thief Signs: Provocation
I do not understand why anyone would employ an assassin in this city. Oh, I know, I know; sometimes you
need to take someone down quietly. How utterly boring. I’ve personally killed seven different people, three
of them nobles, in broad daylight on city streets under the eyes of the City Watch, yet I’m walking around
free as a canal fish. All because I mastered the art of goading foolish, prideful people into challenging me to
a duel. Why bother with clandestine hits when I can use a sharp tongue to provoke my target, find an officer
to sanction the duel, and walk away from their bleeding body to the sounds of onlookers’applause?
—Mercutio Giovanni, Mummer brawler
Vagrancy
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Another charge rarely prosecuted except in the case of repeat offenders
and extreme nuisances, the Crown has declared it illegal to be homeless
or sleep on the streets. The City Watch largely ignores instances of this
crime and enforces it only to convince downtrodden rabble to move on
to a less-prominent location. Perhaps surprisingly, many officers of the
Watch are quite sympathetic to the plight of vagrants in the city, and they
try to direct the vagrant to somewhere they can receive help, such as the
nearest cathedral.
Vandalism
Any vandalism that falls short of actual destruction of property is
prosecuted as a minor crime. Even minor property destruction (for
example, throwing a rock through a glass window) might tried as
vandalism instead of theft, largely when the perpetrators are young ne’er-
do-wells and not yet hardened criminals.
Trade Crimes
Whereas high crimes and minor crimes are perpetrated by individual
citizens, this category of crimes applies to the large trade companies and
mercantile consortiums. These trade crimes impose fines on merchants
who employ practices that the Crown deems harmful to the city or its
people. Sometimes, if the offense is severe enough, the Crown chooses to
initiate criminal prosecution of officers of that business, though this rarely
results in any prison time and usually boils down to little more than a
slap on the wrist.
Unfair Business Practices
Usually prosecuted as a political move against a wealthy merchant or
powerful trade company, this crime covers a wide swatch of complex
business regulations, most of which can be summed up as abusing
the power of the company’s wealth without securing the (often bribe-
induced) blessing of the Crown.
Unsafe or Exploitative Labor Conditions
Perhaps due to the vast amount of power that the trade companies hold
in the city, this crime is prosecuted only in cases where not bringing
charges would result in public outcry. The trade companies and mercantile
consortiums do not put the safety or happiness of their labor force high
on their priority list, but at a certain point the Crown must enforce this
law for the wellbeing of the commoners.
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Trials and Justice
After an arrest has been made, the accused must be granted a trial before
conviction. One of the earliest guarantees acceded by the Regent to the
common people is the right to a trial before a magistrate, with a barrister
representing them in that court.
Trials by magistrate take place in a courthouse, and only a single
magistrate holds trials in that courthouse. The accused, if they are being
prosecuted for a criminal matter by the Crown, are housed for the
duration of the trial in a City Watch precinct house and escorted to the
courthouse each day under armed guard.
During the trial, the barristers representing the prosecution and
defense both present arguments to the magistrate, who holds the ultimate
authority of judgment and sentencing at the trial. On some occasions, the
magistrate calls for the advice of a tribunal: three advisors are chosen (by
lottery from among the commoners who live in that district) to sit in on
the barristers’ arguments, then render a recommendation to the magistrate
based on what they have heard. This option is exercised for particularly
complex cases, especially those where either the accused or the victim is a
member of the nobility.
Once the arguments have been heard, the magistrate makes a final
judgment as to the guilt of the accused, and then assigns punishments and
restitutions based on their interpretation of the severity of the situation.
Once a magistrate has rendered a judgment, it is set in stone and can be
overturned only by a decree made by the Regent.
Accusations Brought by the Crown
For criminal prosecutions initiated by an agent of the Crown, the
Crown must provide a body of evidence, collected by an investigator
and members of the City Watch, upon which the magistrate bases the
judgment. In these cases, the onus is on the Crown to provide enough
material evidence that the crime was committed by the accused so that
there can be no doubts in the magistrate’s judgment. The prosecuting
barrister has the more difficult job in these trials, since most magistrates
are extremely wary of rendering an incorrect judgment; if it ever comes to
light that the magistrate was wrong (for example, if another criminal later
makes a confession), the matter must come to the attention of the Regent,
which would in turn put an uncomfortable amount of royal attention on
the presiding magistrate.
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Thief Signs: Alternative Sentences
If you’re thinking there is nothing worse than a few years in the dark confines of the Castle, think again.
The trade companies, the wealthy merchants, even the nobles with a cruel streak, they have a tendency
to request that one of us convicted for a crime against them be sentenced not to time in the Castle, but to
hard labor in the camps outside the city. Let me assure you, this is worse. They say that you are working
to pay off your debt to the victim, and that you get out earlier than you would rotting in a prison cell. I tell
you, this is not true. I have yet to have my time in the labor camps be any shorter than my stints in the
Castle for the same crime. These merchants, they just want the free labor that we provide them, so they
act all magnanimous and say they will let you work off your sentence, then turn right around and have
their barristers go for the highest possible fines, just to keep earning money off the sweat of your brow for
that much longer.
—Melia Vormav, Circle brawler
Charges Pressed by a Fellow Citizen
When one citizen brings charges against another citizen, the trial
becomes more of a battle of barristers than a search for the truth. Unless
the accusation involves a high crime (in which case the Crown would be
obliged to open an immediate investigation into the matter), despite the
available evidence the trial becomes a judgment call by the magistrate. In
these cases, the magistrate must decide which party is in the right, and
then determine whether restitution is warranted. In cases where charges
are brought by one citizen against another, any sentence beyond fines and
restitution is extremely rare.
The Permanent Record
The outcomes of trials are carefully documented by court scribes, not
only for subsequent reviews, but also as a part of compiling a permanent
record of criminals involved in such trials. At the completion of a criminal
trial, court scribes make multiple copies of the records, which are then
distributed to repositories throughout the city. At those repositories,
other scribes go over the records and reference them as addendums to
the permanent records of the involved criminals. These documents are
then alchemically sealed, making it extremely difficult to ever purge the
Crown’s records of a criminal’s misdeeds. Furthermore, since there are
multiple copies of each person's permanent record, scrubbing a black
mark from someone's history means altering dozens of documents. If
a discrepancy is noted between two copies of a permanent record, the
Crown brings in one of its investigators to oversee the correction, which
is conducted at a secret, heavily-guarded location where all copies of the
document are brought to be corrected at once. 103
The City Watch
Perhaps the greatest enemies of all the Right Kind of People, the City
Watch is the police force of New Dunhaven, charged with keeping the
peace and enforcing the law in all corners of the city. Watch officers are
the long arm of the law, the enforcers of the will of the Crown, and the
bane of all criminals.
The multifaceted duties of the Watch are spread among many
specialized groups. Squads of City Watch patrol the streets, looking for
criminals and shady types (with patrols more common in merchant and
noble districts than anywhere else). Officers respond to complaints and
requests from law-abiding citizens and conduct cursory investigations
before making arrests for obvious violations of the law. For anything
beyond a petty crime, Crown investigators (who function as a part of
the City Watch) conduct lengthier investigations, accompanied by one
or more members of the City Watch for protection and assistance. The
City Watch also frequently take on roles as bodyguards and protective
escorts for Senators and other agents of the Crown
when they venture into dangerous areas, or when
it is suspected that the person might be the
target of an attack.
The members of the City Watch are not
infallible defenders of law and order. They have
debts to pay, families to feed, and vices to indulge
just like anyone else, and they are prone to the
corruption that the Right Kind of
People rely upon to get things done.
The key to bribing or blackmailing
a member of the City Watch is
knowing which members are
susceptible to corruption, and which
are true believers who would not
stand for direct flouting of the law.
The most successful criminals know
which palms to grease among the City
Watch and which to avoid entirely.
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Watch Units
On a daily basis, members of the City Watch are most commonly
encountered on patrol. Two officers of the Watch are paired up and
tasked with patrolling the streets of a district, looking for anything
suspicious. Additionally, if the City Watch is notified of a crime, that
district’s precinct house dispatches a patrolling pair of officers to initiate
a preliminary investigation. In commoner, noble, and merchant districts,
these officers are frequently on horseback, giving them a slightly elevated
vantage point and an edge in speed in case they need to pursue a fleeing
criminal. Otherwise, they patrol on foot.
When a magistrate issues a warrant for the arrest of a criminal, the
Watch dispatches a full duty squad, consisting of five officers of the
Watch and a lieutenant, who leads the squad and speaks with the
authority of the Crown. If the target is particularly slippery, dangerous,
or is holed up somewhere hostile to agents of the Crown, the local
precinct might reinforce the squad, sending as many twenty officers of the
Watch at a time.
In particularly dangerous situations, a precinct house can dispatch
a musketeer regiment, a duty squad armed with flintlock rifles. These
musketeer regiments are used only in raids on cartel hideouts.
Canine Units
Most districts have at least one canine unit, and some commoners’
districts maintain two or three such units. They consist of a single pack
handler and up to five hunting dogs, trained from pups to trace scents
through the complex and overlapping smells of the city. Pack handler
Watch officers are specifically trained to use the dogs to track and bring
down fleeing criminals.
Investigators
For heinous crimes, or for crimes where the perpetrator is not obvious
or immediately known, the City Watch assigns a Crown investigator to
the case. These investigators are tasked with digging into the evidence
and discovering the truth behind the crime, and with building a body of
evidence used by government barristers at trial to ensure a punishment
commensurate with the nature of the crime. Crown investigators are
often former Watch officers who showed particular promise, cunning,
levelheadedness, and perceptiveness, promoted to the rank of investigator
and given more thorough training.
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Precinct Houses
Most districts outside the slums include a City Watch precinct house.
Precinct houses have barracks, where off-duty officers sleep in precinct
house barracks for a few hours before going back on shift, as well as
privies and pantries so that officers who live in districts far from where
they are stationed do not have to trek across the city and back when time
is short between shifts.
Precinct houses also contain a jail for housing criminals arrested in that
district. Most precinct houses hold fewer than fifty prisoners at a time.
Prisoners are held at a precinct house only long enough for them to be
transferred to a district jail for further holding, or go to trial, at which
point it becomes no longer necessary to house them—they are either
exonerated and set free, or convicted and transferred to the Castle or to
one of the labor camps outside the city.
In commoners’ districts and on the docks, precinct houses are utilitarian
affairs that have little in the way of ornamentation or architectural
flourish, and that make no attempt to blend in with the surrounding
cityscape. Most resemble frontier forts, with wooden palisades around the
outside of the property and several smaller and sometimes only partially
connected buildings in the yard within the palisade. In Little Taona,
merchant, and noble districts, the Crown takes more care to build the
precinct houses with an eye toward the aesthetics of the districts. In many
cases, only a hanging sign might identify a building as a City Watch
precinct house. In lieu of a wooden palisade around the building, these
precinct houses feature a large rear entrance off a wide alley, allowing
Watch officers to come and go well out of the sight of the
average citizen on the streets of that district.
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City Watch Response Timelines
The times below indicate the length of time since the City Watch was notified that a crime is being
committed within their district, assuming that the information was brought directly to the precinct house.
• 0–2 Minutes: The Captain of the Watch on duty at the precinct house confers with Watch lieutenants
on duty to determine the seriousness of the report and an appropriate response.
• 2–5 Minutes: The Captain of the Watch dispatches runners (usually children employed by the precinct
house) to locate and give orders to the appropriate number of City Watch patrols in the district, directing
them to the scene of the crime.
• 5 Minutes: If warranted, the precinct house dispatches additional officers of the Watch or special units
(canine units, musketeers, and the like) to the scene of the crime to back up the responding patrols.
• 5–10 Minutes: Responding patrols and reinforcements arrive on the scene. Watch officers begin to
disperse crowds and cordon off the area to move bystanders to safety. If the crime is still in progress,
Watch officers attempt to intervene.
• 10 Minutes–1 Hour: Unless the crime involves an extended duration (such as a hostage situation),
the Watch officers apprehend the criminals involved and begin a preliminary investigation.
• 1 Hour: If warranted, a Crown investigator is dispatched to determine if evidence can be gathered
from the scene. If so, the investigator summons additional support (most commonly scribes, artists,
physickers, and alchemists) who begin combing over the scene and documenting everything. Witnesses
are interviewed by the Crown investigator, and officers of the Watch detain any potential witnesses until
they are cleared to leave.
• 4 Hours: The Crown investigation concludes. Cleanup crews arrive on the scene to as closely as possible
restore the area to its state before the crime was committed, including the removal of bodies, cleaning
up debris, blood, or fire damage, and so forth.
• 8 Hours: Cleanup concludes, and the City Watch removes any barricades used to cordon off the area.
Unless the Crown investigator wishes to leave an area quarantined for further investigation, the scene of
the crime is reopened to citizens.
Jurisdiction
As the ultimate authority on law enforcement in New Dunhaven, the
City Watch has unrivaled powers of investigation and detainment.
Nevertheless, they cannot run roughshod over the privacy and freedoms
of law-abiding citizens. The Crown’s law guarantees certain protections
for individual citizens, and unless an officer of the Watch personally
witnesses a crime in progress, there are limitations on whether the officer
can intervene. To enter the home or private business of a citizen, the
Watch must have a Decree of Authority (referred to simply as a warrant)
from a district magistrate, saying that the Crown has a legitimate reason
to violate privacy and make arrests.
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Private Security
The City Watch cannot be everywhere, even if the Right Kind of People
can. Nobles, merchants, and other wealthy citizens rely on private security
teams to serve as a first line of defense against criminals who might come
calling. Private security teams protect against intrusions and robberies, act
as bodyguards for individuals who might be at risk of assault, and stand as
a front-line deterrent to anyone considering a crime.
Private Security at a Glance
• Individuals and organizations legally hire individuals or teams of people to act as private security
as they direct.
• Private security teams work on contracts that range from days to years. Some wealthy individuals keep
security teams on permanent retainers.
• On private property, security teams have the legal authority to detain trespassers and use lethal force if
necessary to defend the people and places they are assigned to guard.
• When private security detains an individual, they must immediately contact the City Watch and can hold
those individuals only until the Watch arrives to investigate. Alternatively, private security can escort a
trespassing individual off the premises.
• The authority of a private security team employed for the protection of a member of the nobility extends
into public areas when their noble charge is in public. The City Watch can always overrule this authority.
• The City Watch generally turns a blind eye to the use of excessive force by private security teams when
dealing with the Right Kind of People.
Security Teams
Private security teams consist of a large number of guards with a single
officer overseeing the entire team. Unlike the rank-oriented City Watch,
most security teams have no need for a complex hierarchy and receive
their orders directly from the individual or group that hired them.
Additionally, when it comes to private security, you truly get what you
pay for; low-wage security teams tend to be little more than tavern
brawlers dropped into a uniform and are highly susceptible to bribery,
intimidation, or even recruitment into the cartels. While higher pay
diminishes this vulnerability to corruption, it never truly eliminates it, and
only a competent leader can keep a less-skilled team in line.
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Bodyguards
The city’s aristocrats commonly use private security as bodyguards,
who travel with their charges throughout the city at all times and do
their best to blend into the background when not needed. Most nobles
and wealthy merchants are content with a single highly competent
bodyguard, but high-ranking members of the trading companies and
the most powerful nobles from the oldest houses might insist on two
or three. Intensely screened for susceptibility to corruption, bodyguards
are almost universally loyal to their charges. Despite this vetting, the
cartels occasionally manage to flip a bodyguard to act as either a spy
or an assassin.
Enforcers
Not every bodyguard is hired for pure protection. In some cases, a person
hired as a “bodyguard” is, in fact, intended to be an intimidating leg-
breaker who sends a specific message. Ostensibly security staff, these
enforcers deliver messages, exact retribution, and make sure that the
Right Kind of People know that their employers are not to be trifled with.
Enforcers embody the concept that the best defense is a good offense, and
nobles and merchants use enforcers to preemptively deter criminals they
suspect might be targeting them with a scheme of some kind.
Thief Signs: Private Punching Bags
When it comes to violence on the job, encountering a group of hired stooges that call themselves“private
security”almost guarantees it. These kreshnyaviks could not cut it as agents of the Crown, yet they are too
fond of their own fists to take an honest job, and too cowardly to join the Right Kind of People. Fortunately
for us, the fine officers of our City Watch enjoy dealing with them about as much as we do, and turn a blind
eye when they come across private security agents with broken bones and black eyes. This is good for us,
yes? It is not that I enjoy violence—well, I do, let us not mince words—but sometimes it is simply easier
to wade into a group of these private security dogs and take them down quickly. You probably don’t want
to kill them—probably—but aside from the satisfaction you’ll get from knocking some skulls together,
you can rest easy knowing there are few repercussions from roughing up a member of private security,
unless you get caught by their team. If they catch you, then the Silver Judge help you, because they will
be not be gentle.
—Melia Vormav, Circle brawler
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Dredgers
Dredgers, as the Right Kind of People refer to members of the Dredger
Detective Agency, are members of a city-spanning private security force
with a reputation for efficiency and aggressiveness. Dredgers are far more
than bodyguards and sentries; they possess the skills of investigators,
bounty hunters, and soldiers all in one package, and as such they demand
a high price for their services. Wealthy merchants might employ one
or two Dredgers for a limited time, contracting them to protect against
or hunt down a specific threat. In a truly extravagant display of wealth,
particularly vengeful and paranoid nobles might hire an entire team of
Dredgers for a job.
Founded over a century ago by a member of the Royal Guard named
Richard Dredger, the Dredger Detective Agency takes contracts from the
Crown to act as supplemental investigators in cases involving the criminal
cartels. The Dredgers are the only group of private citizens licensed by
the Crown to carry firearms; individual Dredgers carry a single flintlock
pistol, and the organization is authorized to own and distribute a limited
number of rifles to their members. Other than musketeer regiments of the
City Watch and the Spiders, Dredgers are the only group of law-abiding
citizens to regularly carry firearms within the city walls.
Thief Signs: The Dangers of Dredgers
Forgive me for being so blunt, but the Dredgers are smarter than you. Yes, I know, you’re a clever one,
maybe you’re a little bit smarter than the other folks you run with, but the Dredgers are not to be
underestimated. They use their minds as much as their fists and flintlocks, putting them on par with the
wretched Spiders when it comes to how dangerous they are. When a Dredger is on the case, you need to be
twice as careful. They don’t kick down the door and try and fight you head-on. They lay ambushes. Dredgers
are nothing if not patient, and they lay traps within traps so that just when you think you’ve sprung one,
another one catches you. Their contingency plans have contingency plans. A Dredger finds out everything
about you, stalks you for days or weeks, and waits until you are at your most vulnerable, your most isolated,
before making their move. If you even hear a whisper that there’s a Dredger on your case, don’t let anyone
on your crew go anywhere alone; they love to catch lone crew members and strike when you least suspect.
—Extan Gould, Vesper poisoner
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Services
Dredgers don’t clash with the Right Kind of People for fun or out of
a sense of obligation; their services are acquired for hired coin. Unlike
mercenaries and bounty hunters, once a Dredger’s services have been
contracted, they are locked into that contract and take no others, never
breaking that agreement no matter how much money they are offered.
Investigative Services
Both the Crown and private citizens contract the Dredgers to find,
subdue, and retrieve criminals who have eluded Crown investigators.
Crown investigators might have a number of cases they are dealing with
at a given time, but a Dredger dedicates his or her full attention to a
single case. This makes Dredgers dogged in their pursuit, tenacious in
their questioning, and capable of relentlessly hunting criminals they are
assigned to find. When the Crown hires a Dredger for
investigative services, successful completion of the job
means not only capturing the individual, but also
building a body of evidence against them to assure
a conviction in court. Dredgers are well versed in
the city’s legal code, and know how to ensure that a
magistrate has plenty of material to work with.
Protective Services
Dredgers sometimes work as protectors
for important individuals or events. If
only a single protector is needed (as a
bodyguard for a wealthy merchant),
the Dredger works alone. If
the responsibility is greater
(providing security for a social
event or the transfer of large
volumes of coin across the city),
the Dredger instead works as
the leader of a private security
team. The Dredger hires the
other members of the team,
personally vetting them and
ensuring that their cohorts are
trustworthy and resistant to
bribery or intimidation.
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The Spiders
The Spiders are the most hated servants of the Crown, traitors to the
cartels and deadly enemies of the Right Kind of People everywhere in the
city. They are the arms of the invasive, authoritarian parts of the Crown,
and they think and act more like criminals than highly trained agents of
the City Watch. Though technically the Spiders are government agents
and thus subject to its legal restrictions, in reality they far overreach the
typical authority of the Crown, their indiscretions forgiven due to the
effectiveness of their results.
The Spiders at a Glance
• The Spiders are the city’s secret police force.
• They operate off the official record and are not a part of the City Watch hierarchy, nor are they subject to
Watch restrictions.
• Most law-abiding citizens do not know they exist.
• They were once criminals, but they turned Crown, betraying the cartels.
• The Spiders know the ways of the Right Kind of People because they used to be cartel members.
• The Spiders constantly try to turn skilled and influential cartel members to their side, recruiting new
Spiders from among the cartels.
A Betrayal Most Bitter
During the tumultuous enactment of the Arrangement, not every cartel
that existed before the Arrangement made it through to the other side.
Where the Blooded defied the Black Council and struck out on their
own, the Spiders did something far worse: they turned Crown, offering
their skills and knowledge of the criminal underworld to the government
in exchange for pardons and employment. In the span of a few weeks,
thousands of criminals were arrested, incarcerated, and executed, betrayed
by the intelligence and testimony of their former compatriots. One entire
cartel, the Wraiths, was so gutted by this betrayal that it collapsed. Its
members scattered, fled the city, or ended up dead or in the Castle. As
a result, the cartels loathe the Spiders, and any appearance of a Spider
results in violence. Of course, most Spiders know exactly how the cartels
feel about them, and they rarely confront the Right Kind of People
directly unless they have an overwhelming advantage.
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A Web of Shadows
The Spiders operate completely in secret. Most agents of the Crown do
not know about their existence, and they reveal themselves only when
absolutely necessary. Despite this, they have exceptional resources at
their disposal. The Crown has given them a blanket pardon for any
illegal activity undertaken in the pursuit of bringing down members of
the cartels. Whenever they need something, they simply reach out to
their contacts in the government and it is quickly procured. If a noble
or bureaucrat interferes with their activities, a courier delivers a missive
from a high-ranking politician or a member of the Royal Family, ordering
them to cooperate with the Spider and accede to any demands. These
strongly worded letters include ominous implications of the consequences
of defying those orders; to refuse a command of a Spider is to refuse
the command of the Regent, an executable offense even for members
of the nobility.
A Secret Police Force
It’s not just the Right Kind of People who need to worry about the
Spiders; as the city’s secret police force, they
enforce the will of the Crown upon even
law-abiding citizens with intimidation and
invasive questioning. The Spiders ostensibly
watch for signs of civil unrest, rebellion, and
treasonous activity, but in reality they use their
expansive reach to browbeat the populace
into submission. If a Senator is the target of
protest or called to task for not looking
after the best interests of his or her
constituents, a Spider might pay visits
to community leaders and warn
them that things
could go badly
if they continue
to complain so
vocally. If a powerful
merchant with political influence finds
himself dealing with unruly workers
demanding higher pay or safer
working conditions, a Spider might
make threats to the families of the
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malcontents to return things to the status quo. Of course, it’s not all just
threatening words and veiled intimidation; if discontented citizens fail
to bow to the will of the Crown, the Spiders make an example of them,
having them beaten, their homes ransacked or burned, or even making
them vanish in the middle of the night, never to be heard from again.
Thief Signs: Spider Bites
You ever wonder why all the Right Kind of People take their gloves off before we meet with a broker? It’s
on account of the spider bites, those tattoos all the Spiders have on their palms. Seems a bit mad to put a
mark on your skin that identifies you as a member of the secret police, yeah? Sure, they use those tattoos
like a badge, and they’ll flash it at officers of the Watch to make it clear that they are not to be interfered
with. Truth is, that’s how they make sure no one who turns Crown for them ever thinks of going back to
the cartels. They know how deep their betrayal grinds salt into our wounds; they know none of us would
ever trust someone who turned Crown on us. They know we’d kill‘em. They put that spider tattoo on their
palms so that no one ever gets cold feet and tries to go back. They even use a special alchemical ink so they
can’t have it removed, except by cutting the hand off. Maybe they figure that’s a high enough price to pay
for turning coat a second time, but if you ever see one of the Right Kind of People with only one hand, you
think long and hard about trusting them.
—Zatanya Francisco, Family thief
Active Opposition
Few situations are more frustrating and dangerous to a crew on the Job
than having a Spider on your tail. A Spider on the case hides in the
shadows, laying traps and counteracting the work that the crew does
to set their plan into motion. Allies suddenly vanish, marks are tipped
off that someone is trying to influence them, and security increases in
vulnerable locations, seemingly for no reason. Perhaps most frighteningly,
the Spiders have an uncanny knack for knowing about the target of a Job,
and they seem to have a supernatural sense for when a crew is working
and how they intend to go about their plans.
The Spiders work covertly and spend much of their time trying to
stymie the cartels and hobble their crews by throwing obstacles in their
path, eschewing direct confrontations until the end game. The presence
of City Watch officers where there were none before, a contact deciding
to take a vacation outside the city, or wanted posters for members of
the crew appearing in neighborhoods where no one should suspect
the crew’s presence could all be attributed to the actions of a Spider.
Spiders prefer to wear down their enemies, slowly degrading their prey’s
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resources and resolve until they reach their weakest point. Only then do
the Spiders strike, when their targets are too debilitated to effectively
defend themselves. When threats and sabotage won’t work, the Spiders
try to woo criminals to their side, offering power and pardons in exchange
for turning Crown.
Sorcery
As agents of the Crown, the Spiders are ostensibly forbidden from using
sorcery. Yet their origins as a criminal cartel are not far in the past, and
the Spiders (especially those who were among the original turncoats two
decades ago) still retain knowledge of their unique brand of sorcery.
Spider sorcery is a unique twist on blood magic. Unlike most blood
magic, this brand of sorcery can be performed with anything belonging
to the victim as a focus: a scrap of clothing, a few hairs, a favored piece of
jewelry, and so on. The stronger the connection between the victim and
the object, the stronger the effects of the sorcery.
With this object in their possession, a Spider sorcerer can unerringly
track down that person, following an ethereal tugging sensation that leads
directly to the victim. When within sight of the victim, the Spider uses
the sorcerous connection to push, or tug, on the victim with an unseen
force. The stronger the connection, the stronger the force; with a piece
of hair or a beloved token belonging to the victim, the Spider could hurl
the victim across the room, freeze them in place to prevent them from
moving, or yank them to the ground, all by applying only a small amount
of force and movement.
Stolen Techniques
When the Spiders betrayed the cartels, they also stole occult knowledge
from the cartel they wounded most deeply: the Wraiths. The Wraiths
had mastered a technique that allowed them to become invisible, and the
Spiders pried those secrets out of Wraiths who were arrested and turned
over for questioning. Though not all Spiders have this ability, many can
apparently vanish from sight entirely, becoming completely invisible
to the naked eye. There are limitations on these techniques, since any
movement by the practitioner spoils the masking effect, but a secret police
force with the ability to vanish from sight is a frightening prospect for
most criminals.
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Bounty Hunters
When agents of the Crown determine that someone needs to be arrested
for their alleged crimes, a magistrate issues a warrant for their arrest and
the City Watch attempts to apprehend them. If too long passes between
the issuance of the warrant and the arrest, or if someone proves to be
exceptionally difficult to bring in, the Crown places a bounty on that
person’s head, enlisting the aid of professional hunters to bring in the
marked individual.
Professional bounty hunters must be licensed by the Crown, which
involves registering their names with the City Watch and paying a
nominal fee to receive their licensing papers. Once so licensed, bounty
hunters are entrusted with the legal authority to pursue and capture any
individual who has a bounty placed upon them by the Crown. In rare
cases, a bounty placed on an individual grants hunters the authority to
kill the target, though these warrants are issued only when the target is
believed to be a danger to public safety.
Most bounty hunters are ex-military, ex-City Watch, or
ex-mercenaries. They offer extensive training in the use
of weaponry, keen minds, steely nerves, and a deep
knowledge of the Right Kind of People, their habits,
and their methods.
Private Bounties
Bounties posted by private citizens exist
in a legally gray area. Private bounties
seeking to have someone killed are strictly
illegal. They still appear either through
the criminal underground, or use coded
language in the bounty posting to convey
their true intent. Such bounties blur
the lines between bounty hunters and
assassins for hire, and many bounty
hunters do not take
such jobs for fear of
losing their commission
from the Crown (not to
mention the sentence in
the Castle that would
116 accompany such a crime).
Bounties for a person’s capture, however, are questionably legal. Forcibly
retrieving someone on behalf of a private citizen would constitute
kidnapping. However, private bounties circumvent this by suggesting that
the retrieval of that individual is intended to bring them to court so that
an aggrieved party (usually a wealthy merchant, noble, or powerful trade
company) can press charges against them. In reality, delivering someone
to a private citizen or group leaves the target at the mercy of those who
posted the bounty, which results in intense interrogation at best, or
savage beatings and unsanctioned punishments at worst. Vengeful nobles
and merchants post bounties on anyone they believe has committed a
crime against them even before filing a complaint with the City Watch,
hoping to send a message of swift retribution to anyone else who would
dare to cross them.
Wanted Posters
Though most bounties are assigned directly to bounty hunters, when
the Crown is trying to flush a criminal out of hiding, the City Watch
posts wanted notices around districts where the target might be lurking.
Anyone can legally claim the bounty by bringing the person on the poster
to a City Watch precinct house. Most of the time, bounty hunters or
members of the City Watch apprehend the criminal on the wanted poster,
but occasionally a citizen (frequently a member of the Endless Dawn)
claims such a bounty. Wanted posters are intended to make it harder for
a particular criminal to hide, or to dissuade that criminal from plying
his or her trade in a particular district by making the reward-hungry
populace more vigilant.
Bounty Posts
Bounty posts throughout the city offer hunters new commissions. These
small buildings attached to City Watch precinct houses are staffed by a
single clerk authorized to dole out bounty hunting assignments. Inside
the bounty post, wanted posters from all across the city are plastered
across the walls; when the Watch officers in a district post a wanted
notice, they send a copy of that poster to every bounty post in the city as
well. Bounty posts attract bounty hunters, who treat these establishments
like social gatherings, a good place to swap stories and trade intelligence
that might be useful to other hunters. They are also good places for
criminals willing to risk being identified to pick up news about the City
Watch's activities in a particular district, eavesdropping on gossip between
bounty hunters.
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Local Jails
Though all the Right Kind of People strive to avoid doing time in the
Castle, inevitably every career criminal in the city ends up spending at
least a little time in the local jails. While the local jails are not exactly
luxury resorts, they are a far sight more endurable than the dark dungeon
cells of the city’s prison.
Criminals who belong to one of the cartels of the Arrangement are
sometimes left to cool their heels in a local jail as punishment from
their superiors. The message is clear: If you get caught, you suffer the
consequences. Most cartels wait until their arrested member goes to
trial and then bribe the magistrate or prosecuting barrister to have the
case dismissed or assigned an extremely lenient sentence. However,
if the cartel fears that the arrested criminal might be interrogated for
information, the cartel plans a prison break.
Precinct Houses
City Watch precinct houses have limited jail facilities that can hold up
to fifty prisoners at a given time. Typically, these prisoners stay in the
precinct house for no more than a few days before being transferred to a
district jail (or, in rare cases with expedited trials, delivered to the local
magistrate’s court for judgment).
District Jails
Few districts in the city have freestanding jails, and those that do house
prisoners from multiple nearby districts. These jails are capable of
handling prisoners for days or weeks at a time, with an expectation that
a given prisoner will spend no more than a month waiting on a trial. In
poorer parts of the city, however, this assumption does not always ring
true, since the courts of those districts are often overwhelmed. This in
turn leads to overcrowding conditions in the district jails due to longer-
than-expected stays.
District jails hold as many as two hundred prisoners at a time. Their
sole function is as a holding facility, and as such every aspect of the
building is designed to keep prisoners inside. Surrounded by stone walls
with guard towers built into the corners, the buildings are squat, austere
buildings made of stone or brick. The conditions inside are bleak, but
tolerable for short periods.
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Staff
Local jails are staffed by officers of the City Watch specifically trained
to deal with prisoners. An on-duty Captain of the Watch oversees the
operation of the jail, and officers of the Watch patrol the grounds, inspect
the cells for contraband or signs of escape attempts, and ensure that
no fights break out among the prisoners. A local jail includes one City
Watch officer on duty for every five prisoners that the jail can hold.
Local jails also have a small staff of commoners who are not members
of the City Watch. Cooks prepare food for the prisoners, physickers
see that any injuries or illnesses are treated promptly, and stoneworkers,
blacksmiths, and masons maintain the physical structures of the prison.
Security Systems
The City Watch is entrusted with keeping prisoners in line and ensuring
their safety, and to that end local jails institute security systems to support
the officers of the Watch. Since each district’s Senator is responsible for
lobbying the Crown for funding, well-funded district jails might have
many lines of defense against escape, while poorer jails have none at all.
Alarms
Alarms comprise the most common security system
in local jails. The simplest alarms are just bells
that hang at the end of every row of cells; in
an emergency, an officer of the Watch rings
the bell to summon reinforcements. Some
district jails also have bell towers that stretch
up above the skyline. In case of a prison break,
officers ring the bell in the tower, which
can be heard by everyone in the district,
summoning help from nearby Watch
officers and warning the population
that something is wrong. These towers
also serve as nodes in a network of
signal lights (alchemical
lanterns kept atop
the towers) used to
relay urgent messages
across the city.
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Alchemical Defenses
Well-funded local jails implement alchemical security systems. These
security systems provide an extra measure of security for the jail, though
they also require frequent oversight and maintenance. Some local jails
(particularly those that house criminals captured in wealthy merchant and
noble districts) even have an alchemist on staff to maintain the alchemical
security systems.
Some common alchemical defenses include:
✦✦ Alchemically reinforced cell bars far more resistant to cutting and
breaking than usual
✦✦ Floor tiles that conduct electrical currents, used to shock
escaping prisoners
✦✦ Candles that, when lit, produce high volumes of gas that renders
people nearby unconscious
✦✦ Door locks that, if tampered with, release alchemical fluids that
fuse the lock shut, preventing further tampering
✦✦ Stone blocks that contain alchemical devices inside them that
create explosions or release noxious fumes when exposed to air (for
example, if someone was trying to break through the block)
✦✦ Door handles or floor tiles that become extremely adhesive when a
particular gas is released into the air around them
Thief Signs: When It’s Good to Be Inside
I’ve been arrested four times of my own volition, just so I could get into one of the local jails. Sound crazy?
Well, a little drunk-and-disorderly charge will get you a few nights in a cell, but at worst you’re looking
at a fine and a holier-than-thou speech from the local magistrate. Each time, I did it for a purpose. Once,
it was so I could interrogate someone for a Job my crew was on; a coin in the right palm got me assigned
to the same cell, and it turns out that it’s pretty hard to get away from someone locked into the same jail
cell as you. Another time, it was so I could plant a poison a member of my crew had cooked up. Turns out
I’m pretty good at getting out of a cell, and it’s not so difficult to sneak down the hall to the office of the
Captain of the Watch, and he just left all his liquor lying around in that locked cabinet. The other two times,
well, they were for my own good. It’s easy to make enemies in this town, and once the Blooded or the
Endless Dawn know your face, no amount of hiding is going to do the trick. When I heard the footsteps
of assassins behind me, I knew it was time to lie low for a while, so a little petty thievery got me the best
protection crime can buy: a cell in a well-defended jail, and a host of officers of the City Watch who became
my bodyguards without even knowing it.
—Viathan LeBlanc, Gravedigger assassin
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121
The Castle
More impregnable fortress than common jail, the Castle is New
Dunhaven’s massive prison where hardened criminals lose decades of their
lives in dank, dungeon-like conditions. A sprawling complex situated on
towering cliffs on the tip of a peninsula overlooking Longharbor Island
and its bay, the Castle houses thousands of criminals at any given time,
many of whom are serving life sentences and will die in the prison. The
Castle has multiple wings with hundreds of prison cells in each wing. The
structure extends down into the ground, with multiple subterranean levels
where prisoners rot in dank dungeon cells. With architecture inspired by
Elderland castles constructed to withstand sieges by armies, the prison
boasts an army of security officers and City Watch representatives, and
enough defensive measures to ensure that escape is all but impossible.
Prisoners are sent to the Castle to be forgotten, and though many of the
inmates are scheduled to be released after a stay of only a few years, the
Crown (and most law-abiding citizens) are little troubled should any of
them perish on the inside.
History
Despite its fortress-like construction and the imposing silhouette it
contributes to New Dunhaven’s skyline, the Castle has never served
any function other than as a prison. Yet it was not constructed for that
purpose, and for a time was referred to as “Beaumont’s Folly.” During
the rebuilding of the city following the fire that burned Dunhaven to
the ground, the patriarch of the noble Beaumont family decided that
the rebuilding effort was the perfect opportunity to improve the failing
house’s prestige by building a palatial new estate to rival the Royal Palace.
Few among the nobility were surprised when the ambitious construction
project lagged on for more than a decade, draining the Beaumont family’s
coffers and bringing financial ruin to the once-proud noble house. After
House Beaumont’s collapse, the sprawling stone structure sat empty
for many years, half-finished and eroding in the salty air along the
coast. Eventually, crime in the city reached a peak that demanded the
construction of a prison to house the growing number of convicts. The
city’s Regent claimed the structure for the Crown from the depository
that held House Beaumont’s debts, finishing the structure (at least well
enough to handle prisoners) and transforming it into the Castle.
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Escape Attempts
Over the decades, dozens of criminals have attempted escape from the
Castle. The ones destined to fail the fastest try to escape through the
front gate, and they also tend to involve the most elaborate plans: hiding
in wagons full of refuse, dressing in the uniform of an officer of the City
Watch, even hiding inside the coffins meant for prisoners that die in the
cells. The Castle’s security teams are savvy to the most common methods
of attempted escape and generally intercept these escapees before they get
anywhere close to the gate.
The faster, but equally doomed, method of escape dares the lengthy
climb down the treacherous cliffs down to the sea below. This method
is faster largely because most inmates lack the necessary equipment
to descend safely and end up plummeting to their deaths. Of course,
escapees who make it safely down the cliffs must evade the regular City
Watch boat patrols throughout the waters of Longharbor (armed with
flintlock rifles for the express purpose of shooting escaping inmates),
avoid attacks by the voracious sharks, and then make the swim through
rough, chilly waters to dry land.
Thief Signs: Hard Time
What’s it really like in the Castle? Bad. Really bad. I’d like to put on a tough face and tell you that if you’re
strong enough that it’ll be like a nice vacation, but that is not the truth. Maybe if your cell is out in one of
the outer wings you can pretend you’re in a local jail for a while, but only while you’re in your cell. Head out
into the yard for some exercise and it could be a fight for your life against a gang of Blooded looking to keep
you from ever getting out. Need to head to the cafeteria for your bowl of gruel so you don’t starve to death?
Good luck avoiding gut rot, if you even get to keep a hold of your food long enough to eat it. Want to pass
some time working down in the forge? Better hope that the cartels have managed to wrest control of it for
the day, because if it’s the Blooded you could be lucky to walk away with a new branding on your skin. Of
course, that’s all if you’re lucky enough to be one of the prisoners with some freedom of movement. If you’re
assigned to one of the dungeon cells in the main building, you don’t see the sky for months. They bring you
your food and shove it under the door, and you’re lucky if it’s not moldy, rotten, or straight-up poisoned; you
never know who is working in the kitchens that day. People that do time in the dungeon cells usually die in
the Castle, and those who manage to survive out their sentences always come back changed for the worse.
—Grigori Avsenkyo, Circle brawler
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Making a
Living
New Dunhaven’s robust economy is unrivaled the world over. For a price
you can buy almost anything, and the city proudly puts its wealth and
opulence on display. Everyone in the city, even the nobility, makes a living
somehow. Of course, where commoners labor and toil for days on end to
earn their pay, nobles (and extremely wealthy merchants) generate income
based simply on their present wealth and returns on investments.
Money
Wealth changes hands in many ways, but the most common by far
is still cold, hard metal money. Hard currency is the lifeblood of
New Dunhaven’s economy, and a prime target for theft by the Right
Kind of People.
Coinage
Day-to-day transactions use coins, the most common of which is the
silver crown. The highest value coin is the gold crown, and the lowest
value coin is the copper bit, given to beggars on the street and usually
enough to buy a mug of mediocre ale in a tavern in the slums.
Bars
For purchases requiring hard currency, silver, gold, and platinum bars
serve as a more convenient way to transfer a large amount of money from
one party to the other. These bars are transported in wooden chests small
enough to be carried in two hands by a single person.
Letters of Credit
Counting houses can issue a letter of credit, a document that allows its
bearer to draw upon a specific account for an amount of money specified
in the letter. Letters of credit are a safe way for two people to transfer a
significant sum of money between themselves, since the counting house
conducts the transaction with no need for physical wealth. Letters of
credit are alchemically sealed to prevent tampering and possess elaborate
(and secret) markings to prevent forgery.
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The Markets
For most most citizens, the various markets and bazaars throughout
the city are a critical part of everyday life. These markets provide most
households’ food and living supplies on a daily basis, and almost every
commoners’ district has at least one small market, either open-air or
inside of a warehouse-like building where vendors set up their stalls.
Wealthy merchants and noble houses send servants to these markets to
stock up on food and supplies for the entire household as well.
By day, almost every market is crowded with people, noisy with vendors
hawking their wares. Pickpockets and petty con artists drift through
the tightly packed crowd, making their living by lifting a few coins at
a time. Most commoners don’t have a lot to steal, so those who look
like they have any coin (such as a minor merchant or a servant buying
the groceries for her noble masters) become prime targets. The City
Watch regularly patrols the markets, but far too few officers watch these
densely crowded areas.
The stalls sell almost every kind of food and raw supplies a household
might need, from fruits and vegetables to bolts of cloth to soaps and scrub
brushes. Food vendors sell bite-sized portions freshly cooked right in
the stall, and idle people with money in their pockets enjoy the favorite
pastime of strolling through the market and sampling food from many
different stalls.
Specialty Markets
While most markets offer a diverse selection of goods, a few specialty
markets host very specific types of vendors. These specialty markets
are usually in merchant districts, with some on the docks and scattered
through other parts of the city. Some examples of the kinds of specialty
markets found in the city include:
✦✦ Alchemy bazaars, where alchemists gather supplies and trade
formulae with one another
✦✦ Fish markets, usually found in Little Taona, where fresh catches
from the fishing fleet are brought each day
✦✦ Book trade markets, where booksellers and binders trade rare
tomes; also a great place to find a good forger
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Thief Signs: Shadow Markets
What’s more fun than a day at the market? How about a night at the market. See, the open-air markets are
all well and good for your boring everyday stuff, but when you’re looking to gear up for your next Job, the
shadow market is where it’s at. The shadow market is a gathering of fences, fixers, smugglers, and thieves
where they display stolen goods, contraband, and rare merchandise. It pops up somewhere quiet and out
of the way, and it’s never in the same place twice. I’ve been to the shadow market in abandoned dockside
warehouses, in the cellars of Mummers’taverns, and in various condemned buildings on Longharbor
Island. The trick is, no one is really in charge of organizing the shadow market. No one runs it. One or two
fences get it in their heads that it’s time, and they start reaching out to their friends, and soon word starts
to spread. Someone offers up a location, everybody agrees, and then boom, shadow market. There’s one
or two shadow markets each month, and the best way to learn where it’s going to be is to make sure
you’re friendly with someone in the Forgotten, because their gossip network gets the whole thing going in
the first place.
Shadow markets are one part bazaar, one part flea market. Lots of folks bring merchandise to sell, and
coin changes hands fast. Sometimes, though, it’s all about bartering: I’ll give you this pistol in exchange for
that vial of poison, I’ll trade you this piece of blackmail material in exchange for one of your crew opening
a door into the counting house for me, and so forth. The higher-ups in the cartels steer clear of the shadow
markets, meaning that it’s mostly the enforcers and foot soldiers, the thieves on the street, who attend. It’s
a great place to talk shop with other crews, and some brokers prowl the shadow markets looking for people
to recruit into a crew. There’s always the risk of the shadow market being broken up by the City Watch, so
the Forgotten get a bunch of street urchins to play lookout all night. Sure, raids happen, and some people
get arrested, but the organizers try to make sure there are a bunch of ways into and out of the shadow
market so that everyone can hit the road at the first sign of the Watch.
—Solomon Khan, Red Lotus Society fixer
Contraband
Any vendor, whether one of the Right Kind of People or not, might
acquire illegal goods. Usually kept below the counter or in the back room
or somewhere else out of sight, this contraband is generally small-time
stuff, but occasionally one might find a small firearm, or a book of occult
secrets, or a vial of potent poison in an otherwise-legitimate market.
Sometimes the vendor is a businessperson on the take from one of the
cartels, but he or she could also merely be an otherwise law-abiding
citizen who happened to come into possession of something illegal.
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CThoensTorratdiuems
Of all the powerful forces in the city, the trade consortiums are the most
often overlooked. Whereas anyone can blame the Crown when the tax
collectors come by, or shake their fist at the nobility for the unfairness of
their privilege, most law-abiding citizens forget how much power and
wealth is concentrated within the large trade consortiums that call the
city home, a fact that makes them more dangerous to the livelihoods of
Dunhaveners than the Right Kind of People.
Most of the large trade consortiums make their profits in international
business. With New Dunhaven standing as a hub for seafaring trade
worldwide, trade companies deal in vast sums of wealth on a daily basis:
importing from Elderland and exporting to Taona and vice versa, all
the while marking up the cost of goods to reap hefty profits. Several
of the largest and most powerful trade consortiums were founded by
Dunhavener merchants who decided to pool their wealth and resources,
cooperating instead of competing.
Thief Signs: Law-Abiding Thieves
Hey, everyone’s entitled to make some honest coin, right? So what if the trade companies have a lot of
money, yeah? It’s adorably naive for you to think so. No two ways about it, the merchants that run the big
trade consortiums are crooks; they just call their thievery“business”and it’s all legal. Just goes to show you
that there’s a pretty thick line between what’s legal and what’s right. Don’t believe me? Ever think about
taking a loan out at a counting house to buy your family a home? Better hope a trade company doesn’t buy
up your debt and send you into debtors’prison or a labor camp. Company store drive you out of business
by spreading nasty rumors about you? Don’t bother going to the magistrate, the company’s already bought
and sold the entire court. Got a bright idea for a new way of doing something? Don’t let the company find
out; they’ll steal it and then file a grievance with the Crown claiming you’re the one who poached their
idea. This might all sound insane, but it all comes down to one thing: money. These trade companies, they
have the coin to spare to throw at bribes and hiring the best barristers. You don’t. You have to feed your
family. You have to buy clothes and shoes and candles and hope you have enough left over for the tax man.
It ain’t right, but good luck trying to change things. They’ll put you in the poor house, send your kids to the
orphanage, and buy your house and tear it down for spite.
—Antony Castoro, Family mole
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The Dunhaven Bay Trading Company
Outside of the Crown, arguably no single organization in New Dunhaven
is more powerful than the Dunhaven Bay Trading Company. Known
worldwide, the company has offices in nearly every major city in the
world, and few shops in the city don’t have a crate or barrel of goods
branded with the company logo. The company owns more buildings
than any other organization in New Dunhaven, employs more people,
possesses more ships and gondolas, and controls almost half of the wealth
flowing into and out of the city. The Dunhaven Bay Trading Company
regularly bribes Senators and magistrates to get its way in matters of law
and can crush any business, counting house, or noble family that dares to
oppose it. Some even believe that the company’s fleet might be able to
defeat New Dunhaven’s forces in a naval battle. The company’s private
security force is the largest enforcement group behind the City Watch,
and it functions more like a paramilitary force than standard security.
Company Districts
Massive trade companies don’t run themselves. They employ hundreds,
if not thousands, of individuals in a wide variety of roles, from the
dock workers who unload company ships to the clerks who oversee
the company ledgers to the security guards who protect the company’s
physical assets.
Unscrupulous trade companies create a “company district” as a means of
gaining a financial hold on their employees, allowing them to be exploited
more easily. In a company district, the trade company owns and operates
all the shops and local businesses normally found in that district. They
own all the houses and apartments, see to all water and food, and even
operate entertainment establishments such as taverns and card dens.
Ostensibly, they do so to provide everything that their employees need,
which sounds great at the outset but becomes more sinister when the
details are revealed.
Employees who live in company districts are not paid in coin, but
instead in credit that can only be used in the company district. The
companies create a closed economy and profit off of their employees’ pay.
Worse, once employees are accustomed to life in the company district,
their finances become so entangled with the trade company’s that they
become more like indentured servants than employees, giving them no
leverage with which to file a complaint or request higher wages.
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Banking
Vast sums of wealth flow through a city the size of New Dunhaven on a
daily basis. Millions of commoners, however individually underprivileged,
contribute to produce more wealth than some foreign nations. All that
wealth has to go somewhere, and banking is a core part of the city’s
bustling economy.
Counting Houses
Even the lowliest commoner with the most meager income occasionally
has need of a place to store savings or take out loans. The city’s counting
houses are the public-facing financial institutions that cater to everyone
from average commoners through mildly successful merchants. Counting
houses store savings and valuables in small vaults, handle the transfer of
modest sums between individuals and merchants, and provide loans and
minor investments for their customers.
Each counting house is owned by a successful merchant (and often
bears that merchant’s name). Nearly every district contains several
counting houses, with more in merchant districts and almost none in
the slums. Successful counting houses might have multiple branches in
different districts of the city, allowing their customers to present letters of
credit at any of their locations to withdraw funds.
Most counting houses are two or more stories tall, with common
transactions taking place on the ground floor. Upper floors are reserved
for the private offices of counting house officers, where more complex
business (such as the opening or closing of accounts, large fund transfer,
loans, and other financial arrangements) takes place. Many counting
houses contain small vaults, built below street level to reinforce their
walls. Of course, some of these vaults extend down into the Old City, and
the Forgotten make a tidy profit selling knowledge of how to get to these
vaults below street level.
Depositories
The city’s depositories are fortress-like financial institutions that house
large sums of physical currency. Where a counting house might have
the combined wealth of a few neighborhoods on hand at any given
time, depositories hold in their vaults the wealth of an entire district,
and sometimes more than one. When the Right Kind of People have
visions of vaults teeming with piles of gold coins and overflowing
with gems, jewelry, and priceless heirlooms, they are imagining the
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depositories’ vaults.
In general, depositories are not open to the public; only wealthy noble
houses, established merchants, larger trade companies, and counting
houses have accounts with the depositories, because these clients move
around sufficient amounts of wealth to make them worth the larger bank’s
time. Depositories also handle large financial transactions on behalf
of the Crown, including the collection and transfer of taxes, for which
depositories are contracted by the city government. In fact, most tax
collectors are private employees of a depository, and not true agents of the
Crown. As such, security guards at the depositories are quick to escort
anyone who doesn’t have such high-value business off of the premises,
with a firm warning not to return.
Each heavily guarded depository boasts redundant security
mechanisms, including alchemical security measures designed not just to
prevent robberies, but also to trap would-be thieves in the act so that the
depository’s security teams ensure that the perpetrator is arrested. The
vaults themselves, true marvels of engineering, are made of reinforced,
alchemically treated stone and metal. Few things inspire innovation like
the need to protect a fortune, and the depositories implement those
innovations with thoroughness and alacrity. 131
Exchanges
Far less common than counting houses, currency exchanges specialize
in business transactions between individuals and companies from the
world beyond New Dunhaven. These small currency exchanges deal in
letters of credits rather than hard coin. When foreign trade companies or
merchants (for example, old money noble houses from Elderland, or ship
captains in the employ of the Taona Trade Company) need to convert
their foreign wealth into New Dunhaven currency, the exchange handles
the transaction.
Exchanges look more like small, bureaucratic offices than counting
houses. With almost no coin on hand (other than the occasional foreign
coin taken in during a currency exchange), they have less need for security
than counting houses. Since their business takes place on paper, they are
more wary of forgery than robbery.
Moneylenders
Providing a specialized business tied tangentially to banking, the city’s
moneylenders allow less wealthy individuals to afford expensive purchases.
Moneylenders provide the up-front coin necessary to start a business, buy
(or rent) a home, or charter a ship to send goods overseas. Unfortunately
for most commoners and less-well-off merchants, moneylenders charge
high interest rates and add in exorbitant fees, and many people who take
out loans find that they quickly fall so far behind on payment that paying
off the debt becomes nearly impossible.
Thief Signs: Loan Sharks
Look, I know what makes them do it. You need money to add on to your business, or to cover a gambling
debt, or maybe you just need a little extra coin to make sure the tax man doesn’t leave you with nothing
but moths and lint. I get it. Then you go to the moneylenders, but the moneylenders say,“Thanks, but no
thanks,”and send you on your way. That’s when the loan sharks come in. See, some among the Right Kind
of People offer, shall we say, less well-documented loans to folks who are truly desperate. You think the
law-abiding moneylenders are bad? These guys, you never get out of debt to them. The interest rate starts
high, and keeps going up. The trick is, they don’t want you to pay them back. They want you to owe them
one. They want to be able to cash in your debt for one favor after another, to string you along for years,
always calling in that debt. You get in with a loan shark, they’re going to wring more than just the coins out
of you; they’ll ask for more information, more favors, more everything for a long time coming.
—”Crumbles” Valentine, Family grifter
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Religion
The Church of the Silver Judge is older than New Dunhaven. The
first settlers from Elderland worshiped the Silver Judge, and to this
day the Church remains the only fully recognized religion in the city.
Furthermore, not only law-abiding citizens attend services and adhere to
its teachings; most of the Right Kind of People honor the faith, and even
though they lead lives of vice and sin, they believe they must try to reduce
to severity of punishment they are to receive in the afterlife.
Tenets
The Church teaches a simple doctrine: the Silver Judge, an uncaring,
impartial being of divine omnipotence and omniscience, holds the balance
scales of damnation and salvation for each individual. Sinful deeds place
gold coins on the side of damnation; benevolent deeds place silver coins
on the scale of salvation. When a person dies, the Judge sees which way
the scales tip and passes Judgment accordingly. If the scales tip toward
salvation, that soul passes into a state of bliss before being reborn again.
If the scales tip toward damnation, that soul is imprisoned in a torturous
nether realm, eventually being reborn after the Silver Judge has deemed
the deficit cleared. In essence, the core principle of the faith of the
Silver Judge states that one’s good deeds must outweigh one’s misdeeds
and indiscretions.
In principle, the acts that place coins on each side of the scale
correspond fairly closely with the edicts of the law and how people
generally regard each behavior. Charity, kindness, an upstanding lifestyle,
and abiding by the law place silver on the scales, while vice, violence,
cruelty, and criminal acts place gold upon the scales. Of course, not all
legal activities are condoned by the Church; church doctrine still declares
prostitution to be a sinful offense, even though it is a legal profession by
the strictures of the law.
The tenets of the faith are laid out in a book of collected scriptures
called the Word of Peace. The Word of Peace is a lengthy tome authored
by dozens, if not hundreds, of authors over the course of centuries. The
clergy bears the duty of interpreting the obtuse language in the Word of
Peace, and the Church maintains influence over the citizenry through
their declarations. The officers of the Church are scholars of the edicts
of the Silver Judge, and it is a firmly held belief that the endorsement or
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condemnation of the Church places coins of silver or gold respectively
upon an individual’s scales.
Other Traditions
The faith of the Silver Judge is not unique to Elderland and New
Dunhaven. It is practiced all over the world, though regional and cultural
variations alter its traditions. For example, before the fall of the Vladov
Empire, the Church there endorsed an extremely strict doctrine that
preached an ascetic lifestyle and taught that the scales of the Silver Judge
are laden with the heavy stones of ancestral sins. Some members of the
Circle still believe this interpretation; for them, the weight of ancestral sin
is so great that it can never be balanced, so there is no use in trying.
The nations of Taona practice as many different variations of the faith
as there are cultures. The Church of the Silver Judge is relatively weak in
Taona and unable to enforce a strict, central doctrine, and as a result the
practice of the faith there mixes with cultural spiritualism and ancient
religious rituals that predate the Church. Taonan natives who emigrated
to New Dunhaven brought such practices with them to the city’s shores.
Many homes and businesses in Little Taona include shrines to the Silver
Judge, where the locals worship privately and keep their traditions intact.
Heresy
Accusations of heresy made by officials of the Church are always taken
seriously. Though the Church can make proclamations about a person’s
deeds leading them to a blissful or torturous afterlife, it cannot dictate or
punish anyone’s behavior—except with a claim of heresy. The charge of
heresy has true legal weight and is the primary intersection between the
city’s laws and the religion practiced by most of the people for one simple
reason: charges of heresy are almost always tied closely to the practice of
sorcery, which is already illegal.
The use of sorcery is a crime, but charges of heresy from the Church
also cover the knowledge, practices, and trappings of sorcery not directly
tied to the active use of dark magic. Owning a book of occult lore is not
a crime, but if the Church deems it heresy, then the Crown backs that
claim. This puts the gathering and study of occult knowledge in a legal
gray area. Those who collect such knowledge, even in the name of purely
academic study, are not technically committing a crime until the Church
decides that they are. As a result, collectors of occult and sorcerous items
take extra care to stay on the good side of the clergy, or to hide their
occult possessions from those who are extremely pious.
Of course, the Church wields charges of heresy like a cudgel when it
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chooses. Though being convicted of heresy by a court requires evidence
and investigation, it takes little more than a word from a priest to level
the accusation, and the subsequent inquiry can be as destructive as a
conviction. Worse, no repercussions exist for Church officials who level a
charge of heresy that results in an acquittal. Nobles tread lightly around
the agents of the Church for this very reason; it is an open secret that
young nobles dabble in occultism during rebellious phases, and charges
of heresy from the Church find traction when the nobility is involved.
Similarly, commoners are very careful not to challenge the will of the
Church, since even an unsubstantiated charge of heresy makes them
pariahs and destroys their livelihoods.
Thief Signs: Indulgences of the Flesh
Some of the more . . . traditional members of the noble families cling to the belief that being born into
nobility is a sign that their soul has come from the realm of divine bliss, indicating their worthiness in
a past life and a reward in this one. By extension, they say, those who are born into a common life are
those whose souls have been paroled from damnation; they must work harder to prove themselves and
can be safely looked down upon as grievous sinners. Of course, the clergy does little to dissuade such an
antiquated viewpoint, even if it is not an officially sanctioned point of doctrine. Instead, the Church profits
from it, as well they should. Though not illegal, the Church's public position on indulgences is that they are
an antiquated notion of the past, and that the modern Church does not consider them a necessary part of
keeping the faith. Corrupt members of the clergy still sell indulgences at exorbitant prices, the cost of which
is said to be placed on the salvation side of that person’s scales. For the nobility, this allows for all manner
of vice and sin, balancing the scales by throwing gold at the church. Here’s the real con: those indulgences
can be bought for other people up to a week after their deaths, allowing the Church to take advantage of
grieving families. It’s quite the racket. Of course, anywhere that corruption flourishes, the Right Kind of
People find a way to turn it to our advantage. With a little help from some old friends in the Vespers who
have a knack for cataloging the sinful deeds of the nobility and are willing to pass such information on to
me, I’ve sold my fair share of forged indulgences over the years. Of course, selling indulgences is forbidden
by the Church, and I have also found occasion to blackmail priests who violated that policy. There is nothing
so pleasing as using knowledge of corruption as leverage against someone who presents such a pious front.
—Sebastian Forsythe, Gravedigger cleaner
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The Clergy
The people who make up the Church of the Silver Judge are as diverse
and distinctive as the citizens of the city. As a global religion, the Church’s
clergy draws people from all ethnicities and cultures. Outwardly, the
Church’s hierarchy is rather simplistic: the priests operate the cathedrals,
and the archpriests coordinate the efforts of multiple cathedrals and
maintains relationships with the Church in other parts of the world.
In reality, the clergy of the Silver Judge is as much of a bureaucratic
entity as the Crown, and vastly more enigmatic due to the fact that
unlike the city’s government, the Church has no need for transparency.
Arcane edicts grant titles and responsibilities to the priests based on
their position and role. Of course, individual priests can change titles
and responsibilities, hold more than one position in the clergy, and trade
favors and make pacts with one another that make it almost impossible
for an outsider to know where anyone other than an archpriest truly
stands in the hierarchy. A Priest of the First Order might outrank a Scribe
of the Sacred Word except in matters of the interpretation of scripture,
though a Sanctified Reader might claim equal authority in such a case,
unless that particular cathedral is under Dialectic Review in which case
the Chosen Counselor would be most influential, and so forth. The
priesthood is just as prone to political infighting and power struggles as
the other prime movers in the city.
The Archpriests
The seven archpriests are the highest officers of the Church of the Silver
Judge in New Dunhaven. These archpriests are appointed to lifelong
positions by the other officers of the Church, and the raising of an
archpriest is a momentous occasion that always warrants a holiday.
Forms of Address
Since laypeople are not expected to understand the intricacies of the
Church’s hierarchy, most priests are simply referred to as “Brother” and
“Sister” when addressed directly. Among the clergy, they refer to one
another as “Cousin” instead, especially when addressing an adherent of
the faith in another city or nation. The archpriests are always addressed as
“Father” and “Mother” and are given the honorific of “Your Greatness.”
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Thief Signs: Church Assassins
Allow me to be very clear with you at the outset of our parley: you had best not cross the priests.‘Tis true
that the Church has staked its claim on all our mortal souls and holds them for ransom, but fresh-faced
young ne’er-do-wells don’t realize they also possess the means to call in that marker on a moment’s notice.
Aye, I speak of the church’s assassins. You laugh; I jape not. I have seen them with my very own eyes. On
the rooftops in the dead of night, I have spied them ghosting through this urban jungle. I gave pursuit,
keen to see what dire deeds they were about, but it was for naught. They simply disappear. I have traced
them to dead-ends, followed them to places where a fifty-foot drop was the only route. Thrice now, given
a command from my crew boss, I skulked the roof tiles toward my prey, only to find them already dead, a
silver knife jutting from their back. Perhaps I am fortunate that the church’s assassins have not turned their
eyes to me, but I tell you this: either they can fly and walk through walls, or they are ghosts. Either way, I
tread lightly when the disfavor of the church is afoot.
—Jalen Walker, Warden of the Night assassin
Conducting Services
The Church holds minor services every day, usually little more than
a single priest conducting a ritual blessing for the extremely pious or
desperate who care to attend. On Holy Day each week, the city flocks
to the cathedrals for the most elaborate services, called the Trials. Each
cathedral holds multiple Trials throughout the day, though the Sunrise
Trials and Sunset Trials are always the most popular services.
Each Trial begins as the congregation filters into
the cathedral through its main entrance, and
once the bells cease their tolling the service
starts. Trials are an elaborate arrangement
of traditions and rituals that involve
sermons delivered by multiple priests.
These somber are affairs meant to
remind the attendees that the
Silver Judge stands in judgment
of everything that happens in
the world. After the service ends,
most of the congregation returns to
their homes, though many remain
behind to speak with other attendees,
sometimes in fellowship and sometimes
using the Trial as a cover to conduct
secretive business.
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Cathedrals
The cathedrals of the Silver Judge are more than just places where
services are conducted. They stand as hubs of the community where all
citizens are welcome, regardless of their station or wealth. Cathedrals
serve a single district, acting as the religious focal point for all the people
in the surrounding neighborhoods. Not every district has a cathedral;
most are in merchant and noble districts, though some of the older
commoners’ districts have their own as well. In the slums, the remaining
cathedrals have been abandoned and left to decay, the clergy of the Silver
Judge writing them off as lost in areas of the city that cannot afford
to maintain them.
Many of the city’s cathedrals are historic buildings originally
constructed before the fire that destroyed Dunhaven. Their stone walls
and foundations survived the inferno, even if little else. Catacombs
beneath them hold the dead who were interred before necessity required
most citizens to be buried outside the city or cremated, and many contain
sealed up entrances to the Old City.
Thief Signs: Neutral Ground
Cathedrals of the Silver Judge aren’t just nice places to sleep at night during the winter. There’s an unspoken
agreement that all the Right Kind of People abide by in this city, one that dates back to before there was
a Black Council or an Arrangement. It’s an agreement between all the criminals and the Crown; even the
Blooded hold to this one. See, no one can be arrested in a cathedral, and they can’t be interfered with or
followed on their way to or from a cathedral. There’s no fighting on Church grounds, and no clashing with
the City Watch. Now, this isn’t a law on the books, mind you, but a pact between us crooks and the Crown
that at least gives us a way to talk to each other when the need arises. Think of it like soldiers raising a white
flag; anyone who violates it brands themselves as untrustworthy and risks a delicate agreement that has
benefited both parties for centuries. Now, it ain’t like you’ve got Watch investigators and cartel enforcers
rubbing elbows all day long in cathedrals all over the city, but come Holy Day it’s not uncommon to see a
don from the Family sitting in the pew next to a district magistrate. Everybody’s got to get religion, and if
some of us use it as a chance to talk to the other side, well, it can’t be all fighting all the time, can it?
—Stunder Wagon, Forgotten boss
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Holidays
The Crown and the Church alike long ago learned that embracing
holidays as a city-wide event keeps the populace happy. Though many of
the holidays celebrated in New Dunhaven have religious origins, most
have tilted heavily in favor of secular celebrations and traditions. Holidays
provide a reprieve from the monotonous pace of life experienced by
commoners, and the young, wealthy members of the nobility are always
looking for an excuse to carouse and make merry, even though they
rarely need one.
For the city’s thieves, holidays offer prime distractions for pulling off a
Job. Holidays are accompanied by gatherings and parties, which provide
excellent cover for criminal activities. The traditions and trappings of
these holidays allow people to be less conspicuous in parts of the city
where they would normally attract notice.
The Eve of Souls
One of the few holidays that still maintains a strong connection to the
Church, the Eve of Souls is said to be the day of the year when the realm
in which spirits dwell as they await reincarnation comes the closest to
touching the world of the living. It occurs on the shortest day of the
year (or, from another perspective, the longest night of the year), and
almost every devotee of the Silver Judge in the city attends Church
services during the day, since it is considered ill omen to fail to receive the
Church’s blessing before sunset.
Once night falls, families gather in their homes for a quiet meal by dim
candlelight, and children gather at windows hoping to see signs of spirits
walking the streets. Adults enjoy spirits of a different kind while sharing
stories of loved ones who have passed on. The nobility organize large but
muted parties—which they call “wakes”—where aristocrats converse by
candlelight, music is forbidden, and the host gives every attendee a silver
coin stamped with the host’s likeness as a token of favor.
The canals go largely unused this one night of the year. By tradition,
all the gondolas must tie up or anchor, and their owners and pilots
must leave them empty for the evening. Alchemically treated oil lamps
that produce oddly colored flames are hung on the gondolas, which are
left empty so that any spirits that accidentally make their way into the
world of the living can use the empty gondolas to ferry themselves back
to the afterlife.
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Hearthsharing
Hearthsharing is a day of fellowship and community in the depths of
winter centered around welcoming other people into your home. On
Hearthsharing, people traditionally decorate their homes with marks of
comfort: pillows on seats and benches, open liquor cabinets and canisters
of tobacco, warm blankets across the back of every seat, and so forth.
Cityfolk go to the homes of friends and family for a drink, a pipe, a
small meal, or a few games of cards, visiting dozens of homes and then
spending the rest of the holiday playing host in their own homes.
When a home is open to visitors on Hearthsharing, the hosts hang a
wreath made from cloth on the door. In commoners’ districts and places
with a significant beggar population, it is also traditional to tie pouches
filled with a small amount of food (a pastry and some nuts or candies are
the most common) and occasionally a copper bit. Rather than coming
into the home, beggars take one of the pouches from the wreath to avoid
disturbing the revelry inside. It’s considered uncharitable to fail to hang at
least a few such pouches.
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Reforging Day
A holiday with a completely secular origin, Reforging Day celebrates the
day that the city began its reconstruction following the fire that destroyed
most of Dunhaven. Though ostensibly simply a celebration of the city’s
history, Reforging Day has gained greater significance as a day of new
beginnings, a day when old habits can be cast aside and a person can be
made anew. Reforging Day is the first day of a new life, and it includes
making promises and resolutions for sweeping changes in one’s life.
Reforging Day celebrations begin with a traditional large morning
meal, practically a feast, prepared to be served at sunrise (or, for nobles
who are unaccustomed to waking at first light, mid-morning). Since
Reforging Day is always in the middle of the summer, homes throw open
their windows and doors, airing out the buildings. Citizens spend the day
outside, and the streets are filled with people socializing, playing games
(a popular street sport involves two teams of players throwing a ball back
and forth, trying to get it through an upper-story window for points),
dancing, and generally engaging in good-natured carousing. As night falls,
crowds gather all along the docks to watch fireworks displays launched
from barges out on the water, put on by the Taona Trade Company.
Ashnight
The night before Reforging Day is known as Ashnight, a much more
solemn affair. Shops close early on Ashnight and stay closed through
Reforging Day, and the streets are quiet as families gather in their homes.
On Ashnight, most people either fast or eat very small meals, and it is
a tradition for everyone in the household to write things they regret or
wish they had done differently on strips of paper and then place them
within an enclosed wicker basket. In poorer or illiterate households,
instead of writing on paper they put strips of cloth into the basket, each
one symbolizing a different regret. Just before everyone in the household
goes to bed, the basket is placed in the fireplace and burned. In some
communities, particularly in noble districts, instead of burning regrets in
the fireplace, the community builds a bonfire built in a central location.
Community members bring scrolls written out with a person’s regrets,
tossing them onto the bonfire before returning home for the evening. The
contents of these scraps or scrolls are carefully guarded since they contain
secrets and sins, and they rarely leave the writer’s hands until they burn.
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Regent’s Feast
Unequivocally the biggest festival of the year, the Regent’s Feast changes
its date depending on the current Regent. Regent’s Feast is a celebration
of the Regent’s birthday, which for Olivia I is in late spring, just before
the heat of summer truly arrives. Preparations for the festival begin weeks
before, all leading up to one day of revelry, gluttony, and debauchery.
From midnight to midnight, the entire city erupts in one massive
celebration, and the only people working are those responsible for keeping
the food, wine, and cannabis flowing.
On Regent’s Feast, tradition encourages brightly colored costumes
with elaborate masquerade masks for men and women alike. Everyone
competes to see who can produce the most beautiful, most elaborate,
or most scandalous costumes, and many social taboos about nudity are
cast aside (or at least largely suppressed). Even the children dress in
costumes, though parents send their children indoors to celebrate the
Regent’s Feast by gorging on candies and playing with gifts of new toys,
dolls, and games.
The light anonymity provided by Regent’s Feast costumes serves as
an excuse for social classes to mingle. Since the celebrations take place
in commoners’ districts, members of the nobility looking to engage in
the debauchery don costumes and rub elbows with commoners, and
commoners steal kisses (and occasionally more) from willing nobles.
Thief Signs: Thiefmoot Celebrations
You wanna know what my favorite time of the year is? Thiefmoot. Yeah, the cartels only send a handful of
folks to the actual Thiefmoot on Longharbor Island, and yeah, I’ve never been picked to go. Guessing I never
will. But you know what I love about Thiefmoot? All throughout the city, the Right Kind of People are just
buzzing with chatter and anticipation about what is going to come out of it. I tell you, you’ve never heard
so much armchair prognostication as takes place during the week of Thiefmoot. Every Mummers’tavern
from here to the city gates will be packed with crooks from every cartel, gossiping about what they think is
being talked about at the Thiefmoot, predicting who is going to gain or lose what turf, and making wagers
about the outcome of beefs being hashed out. It’s like a week-long party for every thief in the city. Give the
Mummers some credit, they make the most of it. Every inn, tavern, and ale house friendly to the Right Kind
of People gets decorated to the eaves, all the fancy liquors come out, and the Vespers donate some of their
best poppy and hookah grass to the celebrations.
—Yasir the Seer, Forgotten fortune teller
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Superstitions
Though the Church would label superstitions as superfluous holdovers
from misguided folklore, the people of New Dunhaven nonetheless have
a wide range of superstitions and folk tales ingrained in the common
culture of the citizenry. Some linger from as far back as the original
settlers from Elderland, while others are recent imports from Taona and
the Vladov Empire, and many are simply a part of the unique fabric of the
city. Though no one takes these superstitions too seriously, they also don’t
go out of their way to flout them.
Some of the simplest superstitions common in New Dunhaven include:
✦✦ Never knock more than five times on the door, unless you want ill
fortune to befall the people inside.
✦✦ When speaking of the dead by name, hold onto loose coins in your
pocket so their spirits will not steal it to tip the Silver Judge’s scales.
✦✦ When you cross a bridge over a canal, toss a copper bit into the
water for good luck for the rest of the day.
✦✦ Never drink the last sip in a bottle. Pour it out, or throw it out with
the bottle to avoid bad luck.
✦✦ Never accept a pocket watch as a gift without giving a small coin in
return. Failing to do so takes time off of your lifespan.
Folk Tales
In a world with sorcery, it should come as no surprise that strange tales
abound. A few legends unique to New Dunhaven circulate from one
generation to the next, and only those who have spent a fair amount of
time in the city truly understand them.
The Devil of Dunhaven
The Devil of Dunhaven is a tiny statue not much larger than a man’s
hand, carved from wood or perhaps ivory (depending on who is telling
the story), painted black and red. Fashioned to look like a devilish
creature, the statue has long been an omen of ill fortune. According to
popular folk tales, the Devil of Dunhaven was found buried in the earth
when the first settlers broke ground for the foundations of the fortress
of Kalat Wadun, and it has remained in the city ever since. It seems
to appear and disappear with a will of its own, and its appearance is a
sign that something terrible is about to happen. Though no one owns
the Devil of Dunhaven, many claim to have seen it, usually as a part of
recalling events leading up to some tragedy.
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Eyes of the Dead
On foggy nights, people claim to see “the eyes of the dead,” floating green
orbs that drift through the streets in pairs. Many dismiss them as some
natural (or alchemical) phenomenon, but those who have seen them swear
that they move with intent, peering into windows or looking people up
and down before drifting away. No one has ever claimed to be harmed by
the eyes of the dead.
The New Moon Rider
More of a tall tale than a folk tale, the New Moon Rider is supposedly a
spirit that takes the form of a man clad in all black, riding a fire-breathing
black steed through the street of the city. As befits its name, this spirit
appears only on nights of the New Moon when the city is at its darkest,
and sparks fly where its horse’s hooves strike the cobblestones. Stories
say that the New Moon Rider is the vengeful ghost of one of the original
settlers who founded Dunhaven, and that each time he appears he strikes
dead a person who has committed a terrible secret sin.
Omen Crows
Likely more the result of superstition run amok than any supernatural
origin, omen crows are crows or ravens that supposedly speak the name
of those about to die just minutes before their deaths. Like the Devil
of Dunhaven, many people claim to have witnessed an omen crow’s
proclamation after someone dies, retroactively reinforcing the folk tale.
Thief Signs: Cartel Superstitions
Among the Right Kind of People, our superstitions pertain strongly to our skullduggery. By nature we are a
very superstitious lot, and specific cartels observe unique superstitions (such as the Family belief that owls
bring bad luck). A few of the most common superstitions found among all the Right Kind of People include:
• Never mention the Wraiths, lest you bring bad luck upon your cartel.
• Never hand someone a knife in the sunlight, lest they soon be arrested.
• Putting a coin in a cathedral’s collection box keeps the spirit of someone you killed from haunting you.
• If you steal from the spouse of one of the Right Kind of People who is dead or in jail, you will suffer ten
years of bad fortune.
• Always burn a candle when discussing the plan for a Job. The flame burns up the words you speak before
malicious spirits hear them and cause mischief with that plan.
—Sebastian Seaward, Mummer thief
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Alchemy and
Sorcery
Alchemy is the science that makes a city the size of New Dunhaven
possible. Without alchemy, buildings could not be as tall and stable,
leading to massive sprawl and an untenable distance between important
locations. Without alchemy, food could not be as well preserved, making
it impossible to store foodstuffs to feed such a large populace through
the winter. Without alchemy, harmful toxins could not be easily filtered
out of the water supply, and waste and refuse could not be broken down
and disposed of as safely. Simply put, the alchemists of New Dunhaven
guarantee that the massive population can survive on a day to day basis.
More than just seeing to the city’s necessities, alchemy produces
wonders that the people of New Dunhaven sometimes take for granted.
The towering skyscrapers known as the Tines, while marvels of
engineering, could not safely stand without the alchemical components of
their construction. Alchemy isn’t just for useful necessities, but provides
luxuries as well. Wineries make wine from grapes grown in alchemically
fertilized soil, giving them unique flavors that could not occur naturally.
Chefs cook with spices containing alchemical reagents that alter the
flavor, texture, and appearance of their foods in strange and exotic ways.
Alchemical botanists grow unique trees for the landscaping of noble
estates to provide beautiful blossoms year-round, or the perfect shade for
walking paths. For those who have the coin to spend, alchemy provides
incredible luxuries and decadent delights well beyond what the natural
world can offer.
Sorcery, on the other hand, is dark, secret knowledge illegal to
know and talk about. Where alchemy bends the laws of nature to
produce wondrous results, sorcery breaks those laws, and with terrible
consequences. Sorcery can do amazing things, but it is also a hazard to
the people of the city, not a boon. For this reason, even possessing books
or scrolls containing sorcerous knowledge can result in an unpleasant visit
from the City Watch, if not outright incarceration.
Where alchemy is celebrated, sorcery is reviled. Alchemists are revered
as pioneers and miracle-workers; sorcerers are deviants who endanger the
people around them with their unhealthy curiosity and occult pursuits.
Both are capable of incredible things, but only alchemy is admirable.
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