Book of Bone and Ebony

steel refineries held together by clunky rivets spattered
with thick, oily grease dominate the skyline. The green
fires of roaring furnaces cast dancing shadows into streets
of black gravel that crunch beneath the heavy boots of
laborers and slavers. The heat is uncommonly stifling in
this hellish place, and the air is thick with the scent of ash,
metal and tears. Like an enormous, fire-eyed mechanical
spider, the Street of Swords looms over all of Stygia,
belching forth its dark, violet-tinged smoke.
This district is the industrial center of Stygia. It
sprawls across the city, consuming vast swathes of both
space and resources, for few districts can defy the power
and wealth of the Street of Swords. The extensive facilities,
second only to those of the Deathlords, attract some
of the finest craftsman and artificers of the Underworld.
The industry churns out goods and material of the highest
quality, sold both in Stygia and in all of the nations of the
dead, adding yet more prestige to the city. Next to prayers,
this industry is Stygia’s most lucrative venture, and without
it, Stygia would be a far poorer and weaker place.
Though the abundant wealth of the Street of Swords
ensures that even the lowliest apprentice is richer than
many ghosts outside of Stygia, these riches come at the cost
of compassion. The presence of soulforges and the brutality
inflicted upon soulsteel-shackled slaves has hardened
the hearts of many of the dead that live within the district.
The sight of ghostly children, empty eyed and bloody
palmed, slaving away at the bellows, or of a frail, grandmotherly
ancestor trembling under a load of ore is not
uncommon. Residents of the district also think nothing of
the piteous cries of those few damned souls destined for the
forges, preferring to count their money instead. Like the
uncaring factories in their midst, the dead of the Street of
Swords see one another as tools to be used rather than as
friends and neighbors.
Despite the wealth that flows from its industries, this
district is hated. While the forges craft the weapons needed
to hold back the Abyss, Stygians watch Lord Stalwart bow
to the First and Forsaken Lion and wonder whose side the
district is truly on. They understand that all of Stygia grows
in power because of the Street of Swords, but what good
will that do if the corruption and horror growing in this
district subverts the entire city? With the Underworld
standing on the brink of an Age of chaos, many dead watch
the Street of Swords with wide eyes and tense postures,
hoping against hope that the district will not fail them
when they need it most.
PLACES OF INTEREST
THE FORGE OF JADE AND IRON
In the center of the Street of Swords, a vast complex
of steel and iron rises up from amidst the smithies and
shops of the district. The towering factory’s black walls are
rugged and thick, and heavy spikes erupt intimidatingly
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CHAPTER ONE • STYGIA
from its edges. Formerly the heart of Lord Stalwart’s
industrial empire, the Forge of Jade and Iron was once a
factory for the construction of artifacts such as jade daiklaves
and armor. After an accident, however, the massive doors
were sealed shut, and now, by day, it stands as a silent relic.
However, by night, the barred windows burn with the
ominous red glow of hidden forges. Those residing nearby
hear the muted sounds of grinding machinery and whimpering
slaves. In the shadows surrounding the factory, thick
boots pound against cobblestones as heavily armed soldiers
stalk the nearby streets, discouraging the curious from
peering into unwanted places. For any ghost that slips past
these guards, the truth becomes clear. Within, pale and
skeletal slaves scuttle about the dimly lit gloom under the
cracking whips of gray-fleshed, hulking slavers whose faces
are shrouded in black leather masks. Thick gears, glistening
with grease, churn below narrow catwalks, upon which a
brooding Lord Stalwart oversees the secret production of his
factory. In the largest chamber of the structure, a forbidden
army of freshly constructed soulsteel golems stand in silent
rank and file, their eyes dull, awaiting activation.
The Forge of Jade and Iron was never abandoned. At the
order of the First and Forsaken Lion, Lord Stalwart arranged
for an “accident” and then quietly refitted his factory. Under
the cover of darkness, he quietly began construction of a
horde of soulsteel golems and over 100 have already been
built. Despite his attempts at secrecy, however, hiding vast
shipments of soulsteel has proven impossible, and Lord
Stalwart’s enemies have become suspicious.
THE GILDED MANOR
Away from the heavier industries of the Street of
Swords, a mansion resides atop a hill. Its sloping roofs come
to angled peaks, and its gray stone walls are covered in the
dark tendrils of vines. Tall, arching windows with ebon
frames watch the city below, and looming walls, surmounted
by spikes and gated with black-iron bars, block
the well-kept garden surrounding the manor. Within,
lamps and candles cast a yellow glow down the long,
carpeted halls. Large portraits of important, long-dead
people adorn the walls with their dour expressions. Staircases
with polished wooden banisters curve up to the
higher floors, where fine sculptures and rare treasures are
kept. If the master of the house is present, the first thing
visible as one enters is the massive two-handed sword, the
very symbol of the district, hanging in the central hall.
This is the Manse of Lord Stalwart. He entertains his
guests here, and within the cozy confines of gaming rooms,
they gamble petty cash and discuss the economic matters
of the Street of Swords. Servants chosen for their beauty
flit quietly from room to room, pleasing their patrons in
any way they can. This mansion is a blatant display of Lord
Stalwart’s personal fortune, and he hesitates to show it to
no one. This Manse is the center of political power within
the Street of Swords, and quiet discussions behind closed