The Fall of Maeglin
The end of Maeglin Berathan's rule came not through invasion or popular uprising, but through the actions of a small and unlikely company whose adventures within the Count's Palace set in motion events that none of them fully understood. Foremost amongst them was Lord Tristan, a nobleman with an ancestral claim to Ludoc and sufficient courage—or recklessness—to challenge the established order. At his side stood his godfather and magical adviser, Gandor the Great, an experienced wizard whose knowledge of the arcane proved invaluable, and Steiner Truckelfoot, a Halfling herbalist whose apparently modest profession concealed a considerable talent for surviving situations into which sensible herbalists seldom ventured. What began as opposition to Maeglin soon carried the three companions deep into the secrets accumulated during the magician's long rule.
Within the palace they discovered that Maeglin's experiments had extended far beyond ordinary sorcery. Hidden behind wards and magical prote
ctions were remnants of older powers, including a supernatural prison whose origins were already ancient when Maeglin first discovered it. In breaking Maeglin's power, Tristan, Gandor and Steiner also inadvertently broke the seals upon that prison. What they released called herself Skelhorn.
Precisely what Skelhorn (pictured) was, or why someone had gone to such extraordinary lengths to imprison her, remained uncertain. She appeared to be a Goblin woman and openly styled herself a queen, yet there was plainly something more to her. Gandor the Great, whose magical knowledge made him considerably less inclined than his companions to accept appearances at face value, became convinced that Skelhorn possessed an infernal nature. His suspicions ranged from Devil to Succubus, although even Gandor could not satisfactorily explain exactly what she was. Skelhorn, for her part, seemed thoroughly amused by his investigations. Whatever the truth, she did not turn upon those who had freed her. Instead, Skelhorn regarded her liberation as creating an obligation between herself and the three companions. Whether through gratitude, some peculiar code of honour, or motives known only to herself, she chose to assist them. Maeglin's long rule subsequently collapsed with remarkable speed. Lord Tristan emerged as the public face of the new order, supported by Gandor as his magical adviser and the increasingly indispensable Steiner Truckelfoot. The machinery that had sustained the old Magical Tyranny either disappeared or quietly transferred its allegiance. For the people of Ludoc, after nearly thirty years of Maeglin Berathan, the Magical Tyranny was over. What very few of them knew was that something considerably older had been released along with them.
The New Order
The change of regime proved considerably less violent than many in Ludoc had feared. Lord Tristan had little desire to dismantle the state simply for the sake of rebuilding it, and much of the existing administration was retained. Officials willing to serve the new government were generally permitted to remain, while those too closely associated with Maeglin's excesses were dismissed, retired or, in a handful of cases, quietly disappeared from public life. Gandor the Great assumed the role of Tristan's magical adviser and became one of the most recognisable figures of the new regime. His presence also provided some reassurance that the dangerous magical practices associated with Maeglin's later years would not simply be allowed to continue. Steiner Truckelfoot, meanwhile, proved remarkably adept at dealing with the more practical problems of government and soon became a familiar figure amongst merchants, craftsmen and those concerned with the everyday business of the city.
The transformation was gradual rather than dramatic. Streets and public buildings neglected during Maeglin's final years began to receive attention. The great gardens for which Ludoc had once been famous were cleared and replanted, trade was encouraged and merchants who had increasingly looked elsewhere began returning to the city. The gates of the Count's Palace, closed to most citizens for years, once again opened for official business. Perhaps most importantly, the oppressive uncertainty of Maeglin's final years began to lift. People discovered that criticising the government no longer automatically attracted the attention of the Guard. Petitioners could once again expect to receive answers, disputes were settled with greater regularity and the ordinary machinery of government became considerably more predictable. Not everyone welcomed the changes. Some of the old families regarded Tristan as an opportunist who had seized power during a moment of weakness, while others questioned the legitimacy of his claim. There were also those who had prospered under Maeglin and found the new order considerably less accommodating. Curiously, however, serious opposition to Tristan has repeatedly failed to organise itself.
Potential rivals have reconciled themselves with the new regime. Awkward disputes have been unexpectedly settled. Money has appeared when it was required, troublesome individuals have reconsidered their positions and useful people have demonstrated a remarkable tendency to find themselves in exactly the positions where their talents are most valuable. To most citizens, this merely suggests that Lord Tristan is proving unexpectedly capable at politics. Those closest to him know that the truth is rather more complicated.
Skelhorn holds no office in Ludoc. Her name appears on no proclamation, she attends no meeting of the city's government and no law is issued under her authority. Indeed, the overwhelming majority of Ludoc's population have never heard of her. This is precisely how she prefers matters. Within the privacy of her own court, Skelhorn makes little pretence concerning her position. There she is the Goblin Queen, surrounded by those who know enough to understand that her influence extends considerably further than appearances suggest. Beyond those walls, however, she operates almost entirely through intermediaries. Some of these proxies know whom they serve. Others believe themselves to be working for Tristan, one of his advisers, a wealthy patron or simply their own interests. Favours are exchanged, debts acquired, appointments suggested and information quietly passed from one pair of hands to another. Rarely can any individual decision be traced directly back to Skelhorn. Even Tristan's government is not merely a puppet administration. Tristan rules, Gandor advises and Steiner attends to his own affairs. They can disagree with Skelhorn and frequently do. What makes the arrangement so effective is that, for the moment at least, their interests usually coincide.
Skelhorn wants Ludoc peaceful. She wants it prosperous. She wants Tristan secure upon his throne. And she is entirely unconcerned about the methods required to achieve any of those things. Gandor the Great remains deeply suspicious of her. Skelhorn appears to regard this as one of his more endearing qualities.
Inns & Taverns
Ludoc possesses a surprisingly varied collection of inns, taverns and boarding houses, ranging from respectable establishments surrounding the markets to decidedly less reputable venues along the docks. With trade beginning to recover under the new regime, many are busier than they have been for years, and travellers are once again becoming a common sight upon the city's streets. The Pascha Inn is the oldest surviving inn in Ludoc, its history stretching back almost to the city's foundation. For generations it was amongst the finest establishments in the city, offering gambling, music, excellent food and wine, and various more earthly pleasures to a wealthy clientele. Its fortunes declined dramatically during Maeglin's rule as many of Ludoc's old noble families departed, disappeared or prudently learned to avoid conspicuous displays of wealth. For a time the Pascha became a rather faded shadow of its former glory, where gaudily dressed clerics of Kurell argued over gambling debts while soiled doves sought customers beneath once-magnificent chandeliers. Recently, however, its fortunes have begun to improve. Merchants are spending money again, foreign visitors are returning and members of Tristan's emerging court have discovered that the old establishment remains an excellent place to conduct business away from official chambers. Madame Gaspara has consequently begun restoring parts of the inn, although she appears determined that increased respectability will not interfere excessively with its pleasures.
The proprietor is Madame Gaspara (pictured), a local woman who rose from extremely humble origins to become one of Ludoc's wealthier and better-connected citizens. She is considerably older than she appears, thanks to a famously rigorous beauty regime supplemented, it is whispered, by occasional potions of longevity. Gaspara frequently sponsors adventurers for expeditions and other tasks and maintains a decidedly casual relationship with Rolcum Fernhorn, the retired adventurer who supplies many of the bands she employs. A Cleric of Lastai, Gaspara maintains a small shrine at the rear of the Pascha Inn where she leads services attended by many of her staff and a selection of regular customers. She is also one of the finest sources of gossip and information in Ludoc. Many respectable citizens would indignantly deny knowing Madame Gaspara. Madame Gaspara generally knows considerably more about them.
The Marigny Tavern is the largest drinking establishment in Ludoc's dockside district and provides a broad range of food, drink and other services. Cheap and cheerful, the Marigny makes few promises beyond giving its customers approximately what they have paid for. Its notorious fish surprise remains available to anyone possessing a limited purse, forgiving palate and steady stomach. The tavern is run by retired sea captain Hovolm Blacksoar, a confirmed bachelor with little interest in what he dismisses as the “fripperies of the fairer sex”, preferring the masculine company of men. Every midweek the Marigny hosts its celebrated wrestling night, when anyone sufficiently brave, drunk or foolish may enter the ring in pursuit of glory and free ale.
The Venturous Folx, standing close to the western wall, remains Ludoc's principal adventurers' inn and one of the liveliest establishments in the city. Its common room attracts mercenaries, treasure hunters, caravan guards and assorted individuals whose occupations become increasingly difficult to explain when the Guard asks questions. It is owned by Rolcum Fernhorn, a retired savage warrior long since converted to the civilised pleasures of fine wine and feisty women. Guests are treated generously, but thieves are subject to Rolcum's traditional “thumb tax”, the proceeds of which are reputedly preserved in a pickle jar behind the bar. Whether the jar actually contains thumbs is a question most sensible customers decline to investigate. Rolcum remains thoroughly besotted with Madame Gaspara and becomes almost embarrassingly attentive whenever she visits. He also arranges work for adventurers, although his commissions generally pay less than Gaspara's and have the considerable advantage of being rather less likely to result in death.
The Salted Goblin offers altogether quieter accommodation. Its ale is drinkable, its wine passable and its prices low, but its real reputation rests upon being clean, safe and honest. Nobody seems certain where its peculiar name originated; the inn has carried it for as long as anyone remembers. Its clientele consists largely of travellers and less affluent visitors seeking nothing more exciting than a hot meal and a flea-free bed. The proprietor, Bowden Darke, is an unimaginative man largely untroubled by a roaming intellect. He expects payment in advance, dislikes noise and will promptly evict anyone caught engaging in what he broadly defines as “funny business.” Since the emergence of Ludoc's mysterious Goblin Queen rumours, the Salted Goblin has acquired a degree of notoriety that poor Bowden neither understands nor appreciates. He insists repeatedly that the name has nothing whatsoever to do with current politics.
Mistress Schisano's Boarding House provides respectable accommodation for families and young women seeking honest lodgings within Ludoc. The original Mistress Schisano, a kindly follower of Pelor, died last year and the establishment is now managed by her niece, Felicia, who has continued her aunt's traditions. Single men—and indeed any man travelling without his family—are firmly refused accommodation. The food was traditionally inexpensive, wholesome and spectacularly bland, although Felicia has recently introduced considerably greater variety. She also possesses some knowledge of herbs and simple remedies and will assist guests suffering from minor ailments.
The Dragon's Rest, just off the main market square near the Grand Temple Market, is the largest inn in Ludoc and remains one of its most fashionable. It offers an extensive selection of food and drink, although nobody has ever accused it of being inexpensive. Live music is performed every evening, attracting travelling musicians, troubadours and bards alongside merchants and wealthier visitors. Private dining rooms are available for discreet meetings, while comfortable chambers upstairs cater to those with suitably deep purses. Carlo Maltoni is the landlord and maintains a staff notable for being both discreet and extremely effective. Amongst them is the Dwarven guard Girhaed Deepbraid, who deals with undesirable customers and ensures that disagreements rarely develop beyond the stage at which furniture becomes involved. Lavinia Gilgwyn, a talented Half-Elven songstress, has been resident bard at the Dragon's Rest for more than a year and remains extremely popular with its clientele.
Finally, beyond the southern walls stands the Moon Tavern, favoured by anyone placing a greater value upon privacy than price. Forbidden lovers, smugglers, discreet merchants and others reluctant to explain their business are common customers. The food and drink are respectable, the prices somewhat above average and the staff have perfected the valuable art of not remembering their customers. The Moon is small, comfortable and surprisingly cosy, run by the charismatic Gigi Benajolo, a spirited woman who escaped the city's slums through a combination of determination, charm and considerable business sense. Gigi asks few questions. Her customers are expected to extend her the same courtesy.