Cities: Smithville

Smithville

Caught between Fire and Rust, it’s not surprising that Smithville’s name is incredibly fitting. All manner of metal works from blacksmithing to silversmithing and everywhere in between is practiced within its limits. The constant fall of hammers creates an ebbing and flowing baseline which harmonically shifts as one makes their way from one side to the other. There are also a great deal of burn victims in Smithville, all of whom own their scars -big or small- with pride. In fact, the people here take body modification to the extreme for everything, even their flesh, is a canvas on which to create. Many find a strange sort of beauty to Smithville’s people, others unchecked revulsion. There really is no in-between. Those looking to belt out some tunes can do so at a dive bar called the Inferno. Of all the shitholes across the ruined world, this one is the most typical. Its windows are long boarded over, its walls a plain brick. The door bears just as many nicks and scars at its servers. The booze is cheap and the room stinks of it. A plain wire fence protects a Warband performing from the crowd. It doesn’t protect from piped-in flame from nearby forges if they clock in a lousy set.

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The Black Lady

The Black Lady claims to be the The King of Fools' concubine and takes pride in the title despite how other devils look down on her and the rest of the cavalcade for it. She adores the 'silly' archdevil to no end and works tirelessly to ensure that the devils beneath him show the properly courtly respect that her lord is due... if he is around. Otherwise, she focuses more on vicious gossip, violent fetes, and malicious matchmaking. Pitch black in skin with burning red eyes, the Black Lady's legs end in smolding pig hooves while long, curled horns poke from her ebony coiffure. She wears a variety of overy fancy dresses that are always stripped, monochrome, and risque. One accessory she is never without is an enchanted fan made from burnt angel feathers. This fan is as sharp as any demon's claws and will always return to her hand. The Black Lady Medium Fiend (devil), lawful evil Armor Class 22 (natural armor) Hit Points...

Knave of Knights

Bound to the Cavalcade of the King of Fools , this fallen angels wears a mockup of platemail armor crafted from bright pressed velvet and knitted wool but his weapons are nevertheless quite real. Said weapons are a whip crafted from liars's tongues and a lance of hell iron he wields as if it was made from driftwood. The stub of burnt wings jut from his back with multi-colored streamers dangling from the charred bones. The Knave of Knights fell in with the Cavalcade when he vowed to defend a rightful king's right to rule, only to find out that the sire he fell in with was a bastard usurper who had successfully taken his brother's place. Cursed and broken mentally by the deception, he was easily felled by the King of Fools and given a new place at the archdevil's side serving as his jester and favored knight all wrapped into one. Knave of Knights Medium Fiend (devil), lawful evil Armor Class 18 (natural armor) Hit Points ...

Piecemeal

Eveyrone should be free to live as they want and die as terribly as they can. This is the creed that the strange collection of bodyparts known as Piecemeal holds. Originally, it was a trio of kobolds who attempted a 'ritual' of their own design meant to grant immortality. Instead, it tore the three creatures into pieces that forgot how to die. The mass went quite mad and seeks to free other body parts from the 'bondage' of well, being part of a body. Travelling as three kobolds in a trenchcoat, Piecemeal wages a brutal war against 'slave owners' (IE anything with a body) and adds new parts to its collectiona as needed to keep the revolution going. Over time little of the kobolds remain, but it still rambles about in a trenchcoat spouting its made philosophy. Piecemeal Medium swarm of tiny undead creatures, chaotic neutral Armor Class 11 136 (16d8 + 64) Speed 30 ft Climb 20 ft ...

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