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setting
The land often referred to as the Martyr's Crucible or shortened to just the Crucible is a demi-plane tucked somewhere between the material and spiritual realms. None who reside here are native dwellers but exiles from various worlds and times who have been abandoned there. The collective feeling is that this world has been forgotten and its inhabitants along with it, left to be churned through a spiritual meat grinder until they are no more.
Upon arrival, it's clear that this world has its own sense of reality. It feels a bit dreamlike. The flow of time and physics mimics the real world but can sometimes bend and skew beyond reason. Here, perception can alter reality, leaving residents often unable to determine what is real and permanent and what is fleeting illusion.
The Crucible doesn't seem to be a place for the living. It's quiet and sparse of natural wildlife, haunted by monstrous creatures and the occasional fellow survivor. As time passes, it becomes obvious that the Crucible doesn't experience reliable cycles or seasons, those are altered by an atmospheric phenomenon known as the egregore.
The egregore is the name given to spiritual force that drives the Crucible by soaking up the energy of its inhabitants. While it is largely a formless and omnipresent entity, the egregore will sometimes manifest physically as an invasive bramble that is difficult if not impossible to remove. These briars are present everywhere throughout the Crucible and protect areas or dissuade visitors.
It's believed that everything and everyone is connected through the egregore. The air itself feels porous with every thought and feeling anyone here has ever felt. The force itself acts a bit like a mood ring, reflecting the collective energy felt by its inhabitants. The more intense the feeling, the stronger influence it has on the egregore. Only through strong, unregulated emotion, exiles can cause a reaction from the egregore in small ways and big ways.
A small way: Two exiles are in a heated debate and the tension in the room is palpable. As a result, the room might get physically hotter until both parties calm down.
A big way: An attack on the keep leaves several dead and injured. The collective grief has left everything feeling so dismal, the sun doesn't rise for a week and it doesn't stop raining.
Usually, single person's contribution alone can instigate big lasting changes through the egregore. Players will be able to submit their character's contributions through activity and plot check in and see them reflected in chapter updates and events like blood moons.
servitors.
Everyone who enters the Crucible has a servitor. A servitor is a monster born from a personβs deepest fears, repressed thoughts, or desires, brought to life by the egregore. Each servitor is unique, representing the emotion and person that created it.
These creatures roam the Crucible with the primary desire to feed and grow off the emotion that created it. For the most part, servitors exist to blindly hunt down and merge back with their living counterpart. Servitors can sense the flavor of emotion that created it, anyone close enough proximity experiencing that emotion can be tracked down by that servitor. Additionally, servitors can detect its creator no matter the distance when they experience their core emotion— the stronger the feeling, the easier it is for the servitor to find them. While people can sometimes hide or escape, those who canβt will transform into their servitor.
In this monstrous state, the person loses control, driven only by its nature. Reversing the transformation is possible but it becomes more difficult to sever the link with the servitor the more time spent together. Some people remain trapped as their servitor, doomed to wander the fog forever in their monstrous state. If the transformation is undone (either by killing or exorcism) the servitor will return whenever the triggering emotion resurfaces, restarting the hunting cycle over again.
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arrival.
All newcomers to the Crucible are transported in a trance-like state to the Lonely Fortress. There they regain lucidity after resting for some time within the fortress walls. It's not uncommon for new arrivals to feel slightly unwell as though they've ingested something bad (think hangover) and are encouraged to eat and rest in order to stabilize to their new environment..
Once grounded back in the present, arrivals regain fragmented memories as to how they got there: vague recollections of getting manhandled by masked figures in a dark temple riddled with candles, riding an unmanned ferry boat through the fog, and being helped into the fortress. These stories can be corroborated by current residents who can hear the cranking of the chain that brings the boat to the fortress dock and those who physically assist with bringing newcomers inside and giving them a room.
Fortress residents are generally willing to answer questions, but none of them will have the full answer as to why they're there. Everyone in the fortress arrived as outsiders and have limited knowledge as to why they're there and what's going on, but the general gist they can provide is this: Everyone who arrives here is a victim of a failed ritual that was meant to resurrect a god only referred to as the Sleeping One. No one within the fortress seems to know what god this refers to nor is its following native to any known world.
fortress life.
Despite its size, the fortress is only refuge to a couple dozen others (during events it can feel like more but it's not understood where these people come from or if they even exist. see: echoes). All who come by the ferry are welcome to take refuge. There's plenty of room and the desire for fresh company. The attitude around here is very laissez faire, and possibly a bit stir crazy. Those who live here mostly concern themselves with making good revelry. They believe that maintaining a positive atmosphere will keep the egregore stable and the horrors at bay, so parties of all varieties are common occurrences as people work to keep each other entertained and in good spirits.
There doesn't seem to be much organization among those who dwell here, but a collective understanding that everyone there is in this together and it's wiser to make the best of it. The people here defend each other and are typically willing to help one another in times of collective conflict.
A majority of the fortress's facilities and necessities take care of themselves as though operated by unseen forces so there isn't much of a demand for labor of upkeeping the grounds. Those looking to keep busy will find opportunities in maintaining the fort's defenses and keeping watch or finding other ways to improve quality of life within the compound.
Common decency in a survival setting is expected and while there is no formal justice system to police these rules, currently residents are allowed to punish offenders as they see fit. Getting exiled from the rest of the exiles is rare, but not impossible. There are a few core rules fortress dwellers will hold each other to:1. Violent disputes must be settled outside of the compound.
2. Aggressors and instigators who willfully provoke the egregore will be banished.
3. Only take what you need and not from others. Caught thieves and hoarders may be punished accordingly.
rooms & amenities.
The Fortress gives the impression of being suspended in a state of melancholic decay (see: mood board for general ideas). Inside, it feels like a sprawling Victorian manor thatβs grown out of control. Throughout are signs of neglectβpeeling wallpaper, dust settling on intricate moldings, and frayed tapestries. Corridors stretch endlessly, lit by flickering lights that cast long shadows. No part of the fortress is officially deemed off-limits, but itβs not uncommon to find a door with a broken lock or one that simply wonβt budge. Nor is it unexpected for wings and corridors to shift after the passing of a blood moon.
Despite the egregoreβs influence on the fortress, the Common Areas more or less remain where they are expected to be found. Inhabitants have made efforts to instill coziness where they can: furniture often moved awry, books and trinkets piled in corners of couches, pillows and rugs placed before large hearthsβcreating a sense of listless lawlessness within the fortress walls.
Most rooms one would expect to find in a castle/keep/manor can be located here if one looks hard enough (dining hall, ballroom, infirmary, library, parlors, cabinet rooms, sunrooms, observatories, etc). Accommodations primarily consist of modest chambers with little more than beds, a table, a hearth, and heavy curtains. Single and double-occupancy rooms are common, or two rooms that share a commode or powder room between them. Rooms with private bathing tubs are rare, as most occupants use the bathing hall for any washing needs.
The fortress's facilities are more modern than one might expect, with plumbing and heated water. The lighting consists of gas lamps, candelabras, sconces, and chandeliers, which keep the atmosphere dim and warm despite the pervasive chill. However, there is no functional heating system, and occupants must rely on bundling up and tending to the various fireplaces to keep their chambers warm.
While there is no land for growing produce or meat, the Undercroft houses storerooms and cellars full of food, which is inevitably prepared into elaborate banquet-style meals every day in the dining hall.
Going underground is considered a nightmare, and it is strongly advised not to dig too deeply into the fortress's inner workings. Abyssal in nature, areas tucked away in rocky alcoves include various cellars, storage vaults, a boiler room, dungeons, cisterns, and tunnels. It's easy to become lost in the undercroft, and not uncommon to encounter servitors of unfortunate souls who never found their way back to the surface.
venturing outside.
It's recommended to stay within the fortress, but there is nothing preventing people from leaving. It's not uncommon for people to leave on scouting or scavenging missions when the Crucible's landscape has shifted. Survival without the fortress's protection is difficult so most do not spend longer than necessary and try to return before nightfall. All that remains beyond the fortress walls is mostly wild or abandoned land. Remaining structures remain waterlogged, inaccessible, or in ruins. Servitors and other anomalous creatures wander the Crucible freely as they vie for their next meal.
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The Crucible is a relatively small world centralized around a fortress in the middle of a flooded woodland basin drenched in an almost perpetual fog. The entire area is roughly 20 miΒ²/51.7 kmΒ² and is guarded with a wall of jagged mountains. From above, the world looks like a circular impact crater that has since been reclaimed by the elements with a majority of the basin flanked by swampy woodlands. Only the basin is traversable on foot, the majority of which is covered by a lake with a few satellite islands. The water is shallow enough for a person of average height to walk through with pockets of areas too deep to wade. Between copses of dark and twisted trees are the remnants of a town that's gradually been reclaimed by the lake.
Lonely Fortress.
The Fortress sits atop a steep and rocky island near the center of the Crucible and remains the primary residence for most exiles. The fortress is comprised of a cluster of buildings and towers interconnected with courtyards and bridges. The island's steep cliffs provide natural fortification without the need of curtain walls for protection. The look and the feel of the structures appear pre-industrial Eurocentric with heavy Gothic and Baroque influences in the architecture. All buildings seem to be built from the same weathered pale stone with dark slate or oxidized copper roofs.
There are two ways to enter and exit compound: through the gatehouse or the storage lift on the far side of the island. All new arrivals are taken into the fortress through the storage lift after riding the chain ferry. The gatehouse remains permanently closed after various siege attempts have left the wrought iron battered and covered in a thick bramble that only seems to grow faster than it can be cut down. Those who attempt to enter the fortress from the gate should expect to be turned away unless someone is kind enough to toss over a rope ladder from above.
Sunken Village.
The lower half of the island contains a winding road lined with a handful of buildings that descend straight into the water. The remnants of a town that has been entirely reclaimed by the elements is considered uninhabitable compared to the lack of amenities provided within the fortress. A thick briar consumes most of the buildings still above water, blocking doorways and collapsing houses into ruin. Remnants of what they used to be remain, such as shop signs and relics hidden within those who dare root around in the ruins. The main road up to the fortress is lined with barricades made from wagons and improvised materials. The stone, blackened from fires and scars of old fights, suggests that hostility is often met at the gates by unseen forces.
It's not uncommon to see a lone lantern or two tempting people from the fortress to investigate whether or not it's an echo or a lone wanderer who chose to to squat in an abandoned building. The area is deemed unsafe for regular habitation due to the exposure to outsiders and any wandering servitors seeking a way inside.
Whisperwood.
The Woods spread from the base of the jagged mountains and creep into the flooded basin of the Crucible, creating a swampy woodland unkind to travelers. The concentration of fog grows thickest the deeper one treads into the woods, dampening the senses of travelers that leaves a sense of unease and deepened isolation. The trees here feel ancient, their thick twisted trunks rise out of the water with tangled roots that provide a dry path to walk upon. The air here gets claggy and damp, giving way to an absurd ecosystem of moss and fungi that grow and dangle from every available surface.
Within the Whisperwood, the world feels eerily quiet. Visitors won't be able to shake the feeling of being alone or something is always watching them just beyond the veil of fog. Sometimes, whispers can be heard — thus the wood's namesake, trying to lure those deeper into the haze. The woodland animals that reside here are sparsely found and may act strangely when approached or spotted: stalking and watching from afar, not making noise, not acting with any sense of fear or danger, attacking unprovoked. Servitors also provide an added layer of danger, lurking in the forest. This is where the majority of servitors spawn and wander until they can catch scent of their living counterpart.
Weeping Spire.
The Spire is a foreboding and mysterious structure located direct south of the Lonely Fortress. A tall tower of pale stone that has been carved out of the cliffside can be seen on a clear day, but is often little more than a foreboding shadow across the lake. The weeping aspect comes from the constant flow of water that pours from opened gates at the base of the tower down into the basin of the Crucible. Little is known about the purpose of this tower, who (if anyone) operates it, or why. A chain ferry runs between the spire and the fortress and can be heard running at night whenever a new arrival is brought in. Those who manage to catch the chain ferry back to the spire or confront the danger of travelling there on foot will find the tower's tall stone doors permanently shut.
