There is a place, a city,
you can only arrive at when you are going no where in particular. To reach the City At The Center it is necessary (to some extent) to cease seeking circumferences, which will only ever lead you to their own localized center or roundabout without end--according to the Mythmaticians at least.
It is incredibly difficult to bring urgent news or perishable trade goods there, which often seems a bother. But it is also incredibly difficult to invade or attack, which seems on the whole to offset the importation obstacles. Only those wandering without any clear destination in mind arrive there with any rapidity--the Barley Brothers' Thoughtless Deliver Service being the most successful example to date. Locals tend to not travel much, soothing themselves with rationalizations about the superiority of The City and assuaging the curiosity of others with scorn or dismissal. News of the Galactic Arms (or better yet the Rim), and of adventures therein, are both denounced for their irrelevancy and secretly longed-for as a respite from the incestuous references and rhythms of life in The Recursive City.
You might stumble across the City In The Middle Of The Road in almost any out-of-the-way locale. Often it is spotted just after you had abandoned vigilance of your surroundings and delved into the bounding imaginings which aimless or extended travel incites so well--only then you notice The Wall. Whether you encounter the city amidst cultivated fields, in a jungle clearing, at the mouth of a great river, or in any other place, it always has The Wall around it.
The Wall is of no definite color. Arguments and skirmishes have emerged from disagreements about the color of the walls, and sometimes it is safer to decline to take a position on the topic. Several artistic movements have been established entirely to capture (or repudiate) the imprecise palette of The Wall. No one however disputes that The Wall is, all questions of tone aside, most definitely pastel.
There is an entryway in The Wall--a door or gate which is never shut. Outside this gate is a giant mound of rubbish. If the wind blows right you might smell the gate before sighting it. There are usually some people and beasts picking through the rubbish as the detritus of the galaxy's largest (infinite) city can be exceptional by the standards of most spheres.
The Wall appear to be roughly three stories tall. Tremendous stones were set together with a precision which needs no mortar. Whole bluffs and escarpments hewn and chiseled into irregular monoliths, fitted majestically into a single structure.
There is a settlement at the base of The Wall, a long walk away from the heap at the rubbish gate. The settlement is called Stairway, taking its name from the long stairs which rise from there up The Wall. It is a bustling place, but spend any long time there and you quickly find out that the permanent residents are few and mostly make their livelihood feeding, equipping, and passing on dubious information to the stream of people ascending the stairs. Mostly people go up the stairs, but occasionally someone comes down. The stairs are cut in a manner, and from pastel materials, identical to The Wall itself.
As you ascend The Wall, it continues. You begin by climbing, or walking up from Stairway, and it seems pretty simple at first. The Wall is not very tall, and you think you can easily surmount it before lunch. Perhaps to gaze upon the City from on high, with your picnic spread. But you look down or away for a moment -only a flicker of focus- to get your grip or your footing set properly, or to peer back over the landscape, and suddenly when you look back The Wall is taller. It never seems to grow, but there's more to climb. You think you are making progress as you pass villages, monasteries, and hermits along the way. They all give you directions and share their personal belief about where and when The Wall ends, but they're all wrong: The Wall continues.
You might keep going up forever.
Special: in situations where the character is expected to follow a plan, convey a verbal message, use a map, recall any facts about their own lives, or simply wait around without wandering, they must test their Short-term Memory skill. Failure indicates forgotten plans, fickle attention, and no memory of that part of their life at the moment. Each time the character fails this roll they wander off, distracted and forgetful, but then may also choose to test their Luck and on a success they stumble across an entrance to Troika!
It is incredibly difficult to bring urgent news or perishable trade goods there, which often seems a bother. But it is also incredibly difficult to invade or attack, which seems on the whole to offset the importation obstacles. Only those wandering without any clear destination in mind arrive there with any rapidity--the Barley Brothers' Thoughtless Deliver Service being the most successful example to date. Locals tend to not travel much, soothing themselves with rationalizations about the superiority of The City and assuaging the curiosity of others with scorn or dismissal. News of the Galactic Arms (or better yet the Rim), and of adventures therein, are both denounced for their irrelevancy and secretly longed-for as a respite from the incestuous references and rhythms of life in The Recursive City.
You might stumble across the City In The Middle Of The Road in almost any out-of-the-way locale. Often it is spotted just after you had abandoned vigilance of your surroundings and delved into the bounding imaginings which aimless or extended travel incites so well--only then you notice The Wall. Whether you encounter the city amidst cultivated fields, in a jungle clearing, at the mouth of a great river, or in any other place, it always has The Wall around it.
The Wall is of no definite color. Arguments and skirmishes have emerged from disagreements about the color of the walls, and sometimes it is safer to decline to take a position on the topic. Several artistic movements have been established entirely to capture (or repudiate) the imprecise palette of The Wall. No one however disputes that The Wall is, all questions of tone aside, most definitely pastel.
There is an entryway in The Wall--a door or gate which is never shut. Outside this gate is a giant mound of rubbish. If the wind blows right you might smell the gate before sighting it. There are usually some people and beasts picking through the rubbish as the detritus of the galaxy's largest (infinite) city can be exceptional by the standards of most spheres.
The Wall appear to be roughly three stories tall. Tremendous stones were set together with a precision which needs no mortar. Whole bluffs and escarpments hewn and chiseled into irregular monoliths, fitted majestically into a single structure.
There is a settlement at the base of The Wall, a long walk away from the heap at the rubbish gate. The settlement is called Stairway, taking its name from the long stairs which rise from there up The Wall. It is a bustling place, but spend any long time there and you quickly find out that the permanent residents are few and mostly make their livelihood feeding, equipping, and passing on dubious information to the stream of people ascending the stairs. Mostly people go up the stairs, but occasionally someone comes down. The stairs are cut in a manner, and from pastel materials, identical to The Wall itself.
As you ascend The Wall, it continues. You begin by climbing, or walking up from Stairway, and it seems pretty simple at first. The Wall is not very tall, and you think you can easily surmount it before lunch. Perhaps to gaze upon the City from on high, with your picnic spread. But you look down or away for a moment -only a flicker of focus- to get your grip or your footing set properly, or to peer back over the landscape, and suddenly when you look back The Wall is taller. It never seems to grow, but there's more to climb. You think you are making progress as you pass villages, monasteries, and hermits along the way. They all give you directions and share their personal belief about where and when The Wall ends, but they're all wrong: The Wall continues.
You might keep going up forever.
. . .
Tabla Rasa Courier
As a bonded employee of the Barley Brothers' Thoughtless Delivery Service, you are a career amnesiac. To your hands are entrusted diplomatic missives, academic theories of catastrophic proportions, love letters, obscure inheritances to forgotten kin, and other such drivel--items which you are expected to pass on to Troika in a timely fashion. For the most part that is true, though (for perhaps obvious reasons) the Service does experience a rather high rate of employee loss to sheer thoughtlessness and distraction.
Possessions: Really good traveling shoes, a writ from the Thoughtless Delivery Service which will get you (& you alone) out of almost any jail in the galaxy, d4-1 packages for delivery, a page of detailed directions to nowhere actual, d66 silver pennies, & a parrot who knows your name (and some other useful information about your life, probably).
3 Run
2 Rage-like-a-beast Fighting (damage as medium beast)
1 Short-term Memory
4 Etiquette (as long as your parrot is around to help, otherwise you lose this)
Special: in situations where the character is expected to follow a plan, convey a verbal message, use a map, recall any facts about their own lives, or simply wait around without wandering, they must test their Short-term Memory skill. Failure indicates forgotten plans, fickle attention, and no memory of that part of their life at the moment. Each time the character fails this roll they wander off, distracted and forgetful, but then may also choose to test their Luck and on a success they stumble across an entrance to Troika!
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