There was a saying in the kingdom before the shattering of the alliance: “Everything is within two weeks of Crossroads.”
What began as a modest trading post on a sheltered bay grew into the beating economic heart of the kingdom. Its location allowed effortless travel by land and sea, and over time Crossroads became the inevitable meeting point of merchants, travelers, and opportunists from every corner of the world.
The city expanded without restraint. It grew outward instead of upward, spreading across land, forest, and plains, with sprawling under-city districts adding yet more layers beneath its streets. With no meaningful natural barriers and a constantly expanding population, no true walls were ever built — only shifting boundaries of influence.
Crossroads became a tactical nightmare to invade. Armies could enter easily, but holding it proved impossible. Its sheer size made governance impractical, and its population cared far more about trade than rulers. Conquerors quickly learned a simple truth: Crossroads can be taken, but never truly controlled.
Commerce became the only universal law. From this, guilds rose to dominate every aspect of life. There is a guild for everything — from master craftsmen to street-level laborers. Even the smallest trades hold organized power. Many guilds operate openly, while others hide beneath layers of commerce: crime syndicates, cults, merchant dynasties, and secret councils all compete for influence.
Power in Crossroads is fluid. A single street may obey one set of rules in the morning and another by nightfall. During the Keridwyn era, a mayor maintained some semblance of order, but after the collapse of centralized authority, even that illusion vanished.
Now the city exists in a state of controlled chaos. Factions constantly rise and fall, none strong enough to dominate the rest. Wealth, influence, and intimidation serve as the only true forms of governance.
Even after the fall of the alliance, Crossroads remains unchanged in its most important trait: everything can still be found here — for a price. Trade never stops. The city simply adapts.
Fizzbark was once a brilliant alchemist whose curiosity drove him beyond caution and into legend. His experiments advanced alchemical understanding far beyond his peers.
During an expedition into the under-city, he encountered a necrotic entity after triggering a hidden mechanism. The resulting explosion of toxic gas should have ended his life — but instead, it transformed him.
Reborn as an intelligent undead, Fizzbark retained his mind and personality. Neither fully alive nor fully gone, he now exists as a bridge between Crossroads’ living population and its hidden undead societies.
Today he operates between worlds: managing secret negotiations, crafting volatile explosives, and running a surprisingly successful brewery in the city above.
The Cult of Drathnaz follows a cycle of reincarnated leadership, guided by omens and interpretation of ancient signs. Each incarnation is chosen not by blood, but by destiny.
The current Drathnaz, once known as Hansen, emerged as a Djinn with extraordinary charisma and eloquence. His speeches have been known to sway entire crowds, softening even the hardest convictions.
Under his leadership, the cult has risen to prominence not seen in over a thousand years, weaving itself deeply into the political fabric of Crossroads.
His most famous act came when he personally negotiated with the Ancient Dragon Trydish, convincing the enraged force to withdraw without bloodshed — a feat few believed possible.
