traumereitrio_npc | THE ILLEUAD. [locations.]

THE ILLEUAD. [locations.]

DIRECTORY:

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NOTABLE LOCATIONS

MAJOR PLAYERS

Lowell, Guide of the Bilieu
Ahyo, [tagline]
Mardrom, [tagline]

“There is only the one church in the Nightside. It's called St. Jude's... It's nowhere near the Street of the Gods, with its many and varied places of worship. It's tucked away in a quiet corner, shadowed and obscured, no part of the Nightside's usual bright and gaudy neon noir. It doesn't advertise, and it doesn't care if you habitually pass by on the other side. It's just there, for when you need it. Dedicated to the patron saint of lost causes, St. Jude's is an old, old place... The bare stone walls are grey and featureless, unmarked by time or design, with only a series of narrow slits for windows. One great slab of stone, covered with a cloth of white samite, serves as an altar, facing two rows of blocky wooden pews. A single silver cross hangs on the wall beyond the altar; and that's it. St. Jude's isn't a place for comfort, for frills and fancies and the trappings of religion. There is no priest or attendant, and there are no services. St. Jude's is, quite simply, your last chance in the Nightside for salvation, sanctuary, or one final desperate word with your God. Come to this church looking for a spiritual Band-Aid, and you could end up with a hell of a lot more than you bargained for. Prayers are heard in St. Jude's; and sometimes answered. ...St. Jude’s was supposed to be one of the oldest surviving buildings in the Nightside. ...Just a place where you could talk to your God, and sometimes get an answer.”

Borrowed from the Nightside series. A worn, abandoned church of cold stone, a place of last salvation.
The center of the city, or what can be seen of it above ground. Its barren halls are an abandoned place of worship for only the most desperate of souls, scrambling for the last semblance of anything like a God, if there is one at all. For many, it is the last resort.

“And suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew over the scene, blowing past chilled cheeks with a cold scrape, ignoring everything else of the prayer on his knees. It raced across the top of the white-clothed altar and wrapped once around the silver cross, blowing apart the cold, grey tapestry from its held place on the bloody walls, tearing apart its faint red stitches to reveal its stone surface beneath. An expanse of cold, forboding wall, stained with ages old blood stared down at him. Its surface was scratched deep and endless with the names of thousands, etched with hands not their own -- and after each name, a thin, vertical line. For some, only a few; for others, a great amount, starting clean, then gradually, gradually, wavering and chipping away like the sanity of the endlessly revived..."

Original creation. Located in St. Jude’s, hidden from typical sight. Possibly hidden behind a tapestry seemingly glued to the wall with blood that only shifts when the revival ritual is performed. It has names etched throughout it in fine text, followed by tally marks in varying degrees of straightness. When one or the other dies in rp, the remaining character can go to seek for Last Salvation from a god and revive the other. Once the prayer is heard, Tu Fui, Ego Eris reveals itself, and the player is compelled to etch a tally mark into the stone next to the dead player’s name to complete the process -- regardless of the player’s shaken state. Upon completion, the players’ state will be somewhat reset, with the performer not remembering that they performed the ritual.

An idea very loosely borrowed from the Nightside series. A strange den with an interesting entrance, vaguely similar to the skull of a dead reptilian creature, from hence the location's name comes. The entrance is abandoned and at first sight, it seems rather uninhabited aside from the sickly sweet, entrancing smell that emanates from the skull's core. Walking inside reveals a hole, like the esophagus of the dragon that leads down, and in the stomach of the beast is what could be considered a hub of sinful pleasantries and illegal goods -- if anything could be considered sinful of illegal in the Illeuad. The sickly smell comes from opium in the air, pipes whispering sweet promises and fading dreams in their visitors' ears. The Dragon's Mouth is a den of addicts, to any kind of addiction that could be dreamed of: the finest alcohol, the finest drugs, the finest one night stand, friends, life -- whatever your heart desires, the haze will bring to you.

The Dragon's Mouth is typically gossip central -- information that you can't find on the streets but too menial that the gods won't answer you, you might find an answer here, if you can withstand the haze and keep your focus. Good luck -- the claws of addiction are sharp and dig deep, and even one drop of blood drawn can mean you'll keep bleeding.

“I’d describe it like... a pair of twins fighting in the womb. They’re both trying to swallow each other up all the time for the right to be the only child, and that’s what the Bilieu does -- two realities, fighting to exist. Don’t look now, unless you wanna get split dimensionally in half...”

Original. The Bilieu appears to be an oddly sentient section of the Illeuad, spanning across an uncertain amount of space. It tends to be hard to investigate, due to its dual reality nature. Two different sections of the Nightside try to exist in the same space at the same time, often causing dimensional shifts and transporting people from one half of the reality to the other. People who come in groups are advised to keep a firm hold and view on their group members at all times, as even a second’s glance away can mean they have been transported to the other half. If coming alone, it is well-advised to be extremely aware of your surroundings, as a moment’s slip can mean the buildings and routes completely change.

The two halves look somewhat the same, at least in layout; however, the shop placement and such can differ greatly. For example, an empty, abandoned alleyway in one reality can appear to be a bustling black market in the other. As almost twin realities, they share a bond, and therefore, what happens in one reality can often subtly transfer into the other reality (e.g. leaving a note etched into the ground of one half of the reality can mean that note can also appear in the other half). Attempting to escape the Bilieu’s split reality or trying to regroup can be insanely difficult without the help of a Bilieu-born resident, such as Lowell.

Extended exposure in the Bilieu can be extremely dangerous, as the split reality will begin affecting in increasingly smaller and more detailed measures. It can begin resulting in not only split groups, but split emotions, split judgment, or even split personalities presenting themselves in split individuals. Those who wander in the Bilieu for far too long without proper mental fortitude can very well be split into infinity until they are hardly whole enough to exist anymore.

A major player in the Bilieu is an entity known as the Dog God, a shadowy, monstrous guardian of the dual realms that spills the blood of any troublesome being that has come to disturb their unstable balance. There are only a very few amount of eyewitnesses, all of which have developed an extreme nyctophobia and cynophobia (phobia of darkness and dogs, respectively).

"Even the strongest fall eventually. Though it may take decades, centuries...millenniums, even. Just remember that persistence makes it more painful; know to let go when your time is up."
- Ahyo

Original. A graveyard referred to by many names, but none quite universal enough to become official. Rumoured to be the cemetery of gods who had fallen in battle. Instead of tombstones the whole lot is covered in weapons, each 'grave' haphazardly marked by it's owner's armament of choice. Mostly comprised of swords, venturing further into the centre reveals a wide variety: axes, pole arms, muskets, shields...some have rusted and tarnished with age and weather, while others still gleam like the day they were made. Despite the crowded nature of the area, the atmosphere feels terrifyingly empty--hollow, even.

Some report the feeling of being watched.

Sometimes, the weapons turn when you aren't looking.

Though one would hope morals and respect for the dead would deter a passerby from plucking one of the grave markers out from the wet soil, this, of course, is the Illeuad; the word 'moral' is non existent and respect is little to none for the living, even less so for the dead. Of course, there's nothing stopping anyone from taking a weapon--perhaps it would even be useful to them in their journeys--but be aware: it's not just a weapon you are carrying away with you. Holding the hilt of that sword you can hear the war cries of imperial soldiers. Touching the trigger of that rifle you can feel the burden of a thousand murdered lives.

If a player loses their weapon upon death--whether it was destroyed or lost, as long as it hasn't changed owners--it can be found here in the Graveyard, somewhere among the thousands of other weapons, in surprisingly pristine form. The player is free to retrieve their own if they can find it, but hope that their cause of death wasn't too painful. Some say the moment you pull your weapon out from the earth, you feel exactly what you had felt when you died. Some say that recovering your weapon isn't worth it.

In the very centre of the graveyard is a clearing, and in the centre of that is a weapon. It radiates something holy--or mortifying--and presents differently to each viewer. One man saw dagger. Another saw a gun. Another even saw a harpoon. Despite all best efforts and logic--after all, it isn't held in the ground by anything--this weapon cannot be retrieved from the graveyard. It refuses to budge a millimetre from its place.

Touching it, however, instills a disquieting sense of dread.

They say Ahyo frequents the graveyard often, and she does, but catching a glimpse of her is difficult. Some say you can see her reflection on the metal of weapons.

Edited 2016-07-01 22:20 (UTC)

"You need to listen, ok? Listen. There is music everywhere. In the wind, in the water, in the empty halls. Everything is music. Music is everything. Orpheus died at the hands of those who couldn't hear his divine music. You have to listen, you have to, and don't look back."
- 李順子

An old, decrepit Victorian theatre and concert hall full of orchestra music and eccentric monsters. Damaged by age and beasts, many of the hallways and usual routes to rooms and areas are blocked or destroyed, forcing any who enter to search for different pathways to their destination. Most of the architecture is falling apart; with chandeliers barely hanging to the ceiling and walls threatening to collapse with the slightest touch.

The lobby itself is empty, devoid of any beast or person, and only filled with the sound of a woman singing--or wailing--in the vague distance. The carpeted floor is filthy with blood and the few remains of rotting corpses. Although the pale archways to the side hallways are still intact, the main doors to the auditorium are blocked by crumbled stone and a weird, sticky, fleshy substance that flinches when touched.

All hallways are frighteningly dark, teeming with monsters of varying hostility. The sound of orchestral music begins to overlap the voice of the woman, escalating into a violent cacophony of sounds the further you venture into the dark. Travelers should be wary of where they step, the corridors are littered with rubble and gods-know-what, and accidentally bumping into a pillar or wall may cause them to collapse. The staircases are, however, surprisingly sturdy and are arguably the most stable areas of the entire building.

The hallways all connect to several areas: the dressing rooms, the lobby, the upper booths of the auditorium, the lower area of the auditorium, the stage, and the back stage. Nightmare phases are common and, in all areas, two violent monsters roam. Dubbed 'Mercutio' and 'Tybalt' by the denizens, they are difficult to kill and most recommend fleeing on sight. They are often found on opposite sides of the building but, if found, they can be lead towards each other where they will then lock into battle with the other--too preoccupied by their opponent to bother with anyone else around them.

The dressing rooms, storage, and other rooms that are not the auditorium are mostly decrepit, with either monsters or a few supplies inside. Rarely, odd weapons can be found inside the rooms. There is one room on the second floor that is entirely empty except for a single antique mirror on the wall across from the doorway, with glass so dirty no reflection can be seen.

The upper booths of the auditorium are the easiest part of the auditorium to access, displaying a brightly lit auditorium and a curtained stage flooded with water. The lower seats of the auditorium are also visible, the front rows almost completely submerged. The upper booths are mostly safe from monsters, due to the proximity and brightness of lighting, but are susceptible to crumbling and falling on the lower seats below.

The hallway to the backstage is difficult to get to but is completely devoid of monsters. An odd feeling of nausea and anxiety washes over any who delves in. Water leaks out from beneath the door to the backstage.

The backstage is slightly sunken and submerged in water, reaching ankle-deep near the entrance and rising to knee or thigh-deep the further you trudge on. The sound of the woman singing is the loudest here. It's completely dark, with only a sliver of light managing to get through the curtains from the auditorium. Pulling the curtains apart immediately causes a nightmare sequence to begin; the water of the stage rising and flooding the auditorium seats further and the singing devolving into screeching. All main lights go out, with the only illumination being the emergency stage and audience lights beneath the surface of the water. A tree of flesh and bone grows out from the middle of the stage and a single branch arches downward with a massive cocoon hanging on by a single thread. Although initially passive, any sort of disturbance or touch--especially cutting the thread--will cause the cocoon to birth the monster 'Ophelia', and escape from the auditorium becomes impossible until she is defeated.

At any point in the Orpheum, backtracking or looking back may cause more monsters to appear than before; sometimes more nightmare sequences. In the more unusual cases, one may find something--or someone--gone.

"A deity's powers comes from others' belief in them -- that's why they need more believers. Without believers, this street would be nothing, and they would be nothing -- so whenever someone gullible comes walking in, all of them start to tear and pull for their faith... no matter the cost."

The Street of the Gods, very very loosely based off of a similar location in the Nightside but mostly through name only. The Street of the Gods is a particular street in the Illeuad city where all of their temples and churches reside, aside from the abandoned St. Jude -- however, since the street lies north of the abandoned church, some consider St. Jude to be the head of this street, and was the first to lose all of its gods. Walking through it, some of the buildings will be cleaner and more well-kept than others, with those that aren't reduced to abandoned, crumbling ruins. From within, prayers and sermons can be heard, or the mad whisperings of fanatic followers. Ever met someone outside your school, smiling and handing out fun-sized Bibles? Yeah, they do that here, too -- but some with just an offhand smile, some others a bit more forceful to get you to join their religion. Be wary -- this is the Illeuad. You either believe in nothing, or you believe in something and you believe in it strongly.

“The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. You think, as you walk away from Le Cirque des Rêves and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.”

Loosely inspired by a book. Le Cirque des Rêves, or otherwise known as the Circus of Dreams, is a mysterious circus that only appears during the moonlit shift -- during a nightmare or red moon shift, the area is entirely abandoned and laid bare, the ground torn up and bones visible through the mounds of dirt. It isn't always there during the moonlit shifts, either; sometimes, it'll be there, as if it had always belonged there -- and during other hours, it will be gone, as if it had never existed. Tickets are rare and hard to come across, with only a hundred in existence at any given time... but if the circus leader likes you enough, he might just let you in for free. Either way, if you've been let in or made the effort to get in, sit tight -- and watch the show until its end, won't you?

The circus contains anything and everything, things that are so fantastic that it might as well feel like a dream. A too big field full of whirling acrobats, a contortionist whose waist twists farther than the human body should allow; sword eaters that swallow their height in blades, and an illusionist that will turn her tent roof into a starry sky with a sweep. Sooner or later, though, this will come as obvious -- why wouldn't he be able to spit fire from his core? Why wouldn't she be able to turn a bouquet into doves? And this will leave you wanting more, to see newer tricks, more gasps. Watch this volunteer be sawed in half -- the greatest surprise is the spine and guts that spill out, while her eyes widen in surprise and awe.

Le Cirque dse Rêves always provides.

The cost of the show of a lifetime? It differs. But what they usually want is a secret. Secrets have power. And that power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well. Sharing secrets, real secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them. Writing them down is worse, because who can tell how many eyes might see them inscribed on paper, no matter how careful you might be with it. So it's really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours... that is, unless your curiosity really must be sated.

After all, the finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.

"In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were overjoyed. It was just a dream, though."
- 賴未来

A vast, dark lake adjacent from the Graveyard. It seems lifeless. The shores of the water are mostly rock, with scarce patches of dirt and foliage managing to peak through. The moon reflects perfectly on the surface and illuminates the area. As far as anyone in the Illeuad could tell, the whole area is devoid of any monsters--some even consider it a safe haven from the beasts of the night.

That odd person you ran into--Kim Minjae--likes to talk about this lake a lot. They call it the 'Lake of Trials', but what trials are there to be had? The whole place is quiet, peaceful even, and as lifeless as the Graveyard near it; contrary to the cemetery's dreadful atmosphere, the lake seems to emanate some sort of serenity. Minjae also says that you can pray here, for blessings or good fortune, but they won't be heard unless if you add sacrifice. Living sacrifice.

Refugees, those seeking solace from the Illeuad's cruel streets, are often found here. They set up small camps around the water's perimeter and share food and drink, huddling under cloth while they skip stones and coins across the water. Most, if not all, are passive and friendly--perhaps due to the lake's effect--and are willing to share tales and gossip they've acquired from their own journeys. Maybe even some tips. Denizens who roam here change by the hour, however, with only a select few electing to stay for long periods of time.

If you look closely enough at the water, sometimes, you see something glowing. Probably just the moon's reflection.

Just probably.

"Information? Hm? Is that what you seek? Then so be it; but of course, it comes at a price. We aren't so crude as those blundering messes in the Dragon's Mouth but I'd like something of equal value, no?"
- 杜元迷

The Kraken is a restaurant located very close to the Lake of Trials, known for it's inexpensive but delicious seafood and the odd, hooded staff members that keep it running. Denizens of all sorts wander into through the entrance for food, company, and above all--information. One of the hooded figures here, supposedly the boss, is renowned for their intellectual prowess and vast knowledge of many things; especially of the technical and of legend.

Said hooded figure can aid you in many things. They can identify items, artifacts, weapons; tell you what use they have and where they originated from; give you cryptic advice on where it is effective or where it could be used; translate text and language from around the world; tell you about gods, or lack thereof...the possibilities are endless but, as nothing comes so easily in the Illeuad, they expect equal compensation for their knowledge.

The restaurant itself is dimly lit, with bodies bustling about the interior as guests get seated and delivered their meals. There's a small bar with nice drinks--also relatively inexpensive--and those hooded figures seem friendly enough. You can barely see the bottom half of their faces from beneath their dark cloaks. One of them seems to have a forked tongue. Another seems vaguely tiger-like. You can see small patches of scales on the chef's jawline.

In the dark lighting, if you look closely enough, you can notice various chess pieces, playing cards, and small statuettes scattered all around the restaurant. In the back near the restrooms there's one slightly hidden room; small and empty save for a single pristine antique mirror. It's glass is polished to perfection, but it's reflection is empty. The hooded figure claims it does not reflect the living. You see the hooded figure on the glass.

Drop by The Kraken and order a nice meal, a few drinks, and whatever knowledge your heart desires. Denizens of the Illeuad say that their octopus dishes are the best--a true delicacy in this era.

...

Did that tentacle just wave at you?

Edited 2016-07-03 08:45 (UTC)

"Childhood dotted with bodies.

Let them go, let them
be ghosts.

No, I said,
make them stay, make them stone."

In the mid-east of the main hub of Illeuad's dark city, there is an open space with a distinct, high, black-iron fence markings its borders. Fiercely sharp points adorn the top of the fence, and the wrought gates are imposing, yet somehow, they beckon. Through the bars, a rose garden is visible in alternating shades of bloody red, vibrant dark green, and pale marble the same colour as the antique moon, but just equally as visible are their cruel thorns, curling and waiting for someone to prick their finger. Their sweet smell is almost nauseating, yet somehow, calming at the same time -- no one can quite figure out why.

Nobody guards the front gates, and visitors are free to come and go as they like -- but few rarely do. There is something off about the serenity of this rose garden, and despite its oddly calming aura, many people know to think better and avoid it -- the only ones that dare to wander in are those who are particularly daring, or those who are particularly gullible. None are quite sure who exactly tends this massive, overgrown rose garden, but they all agree that someone does... and they certainly don't appreciate intruders, especially those who come without admiring their handiwork. Just so that you can wander and admire as much of the roses as you can, the inside eventually begins to twist and turn into a hedge maze, and there's certainly no compass to help you -- they all begin to spin rapidly without cessation. And if you happen to die here... well, supposing you help give those roses their beautiful red blush, no?

Approaching the center of die Rosenfeld reveals dying, withering, drying bushes of what were surely once-glamorous buds -- the only thing meticulously clean is the white-marble pillars depicting fallen angels and the gates that lead to a little clearing with a roof. Sure, you could have some tea here, but what's important is the cover under the table and chairs -- if you can figure out how to come in and get through the rose hedge maze, as well as lift the cover, you have just accessed the opening to the Underground, or Where The Light Doesn't Touch.

...Is it really worth it to go in?

"We don’t know how to say goodbye:
we wander on, shoulder to shoulder.
Already the sun is going down;
you’re moody. I am your shadow."

The Illeuad's Underground is a huge mystery to most, largely because very few go down there in the first place. Even less make it out whole and alive and completely themselves. At the very least, a majority of its survivors have ended up spending their days in the neighbourhood of the Forgetting to compete with mangy rats for their living space, or at the Dragon's Mouth, inhaling sedatives until their visions end.

Though officially known as "The Underground", many residents will refer to it as Where The Light Doesn't Touch, or some iteration similarly thereof. That name holds truth, in that in the Underground, there is truly no light whatsoever -- any denizens that live there have learned to bring their own light, or have adjusted to be able to function without vision. It is so quiet in the tunnels that an echo you heard could have come from across the city. Though there are some parts in the underground tunnels that are possible to navigate by foot, if you desire to go deeper into the tunnels, you will have to call a guide, for the passages have flooded with black liquid -- they don't recommend swimming in it, much.

In fact, a guide is recommended in general -- there are plenty of strange monsters that lurk in this utopia without light, as well as the Forgotten -- former residents from the Above who have fallen down, either banished or lost forever -- who will certainly bother someone so fresh from the surface. The guides know their way around instinctively, and they're essentially the Underground's taxi drivers... that is, if you can find one, if you can pay their non-strenuous but odd fares, and if you can stand their strange company.

If you plan to come into the Underground, it's best that you watch your back -- even with a guide, strange spirits can lurk around in the darkness and cling onto these untainted life forms, seeking a hitchhike back up to the Above. Keep an eye on your friends -- you can walk in as one person, and leave as someone entirely else. The Underground is a dangerous place, and it really is somewhere to be avoided as much as you can... but many things you could be looking for, you could find them here. It's your risk.

"It's not a fight until your life is on the line. It's not a weapon until it's soaked in blood."
- 奇冬子

A rather peculiar forge found on the more barren end of the city. The decrepit building looks lifeless, and it is, save for the few souls that wander in searching for something new to carry in their arsenal.

The interior is filled to the brim with machinery and not a worker in sight--in fact, the machines work themselves. They hum to life at the command of a small altar; a stone pedestal with an ancient bowl on its top. Those looking for new arms need not specify anything--size, type, sharpness, weight--the altar knows exactly what you want. The altar listens. The altar understands.

All one needs is simple: blood. Fill the basin with blood and if the right quota is met, something the altar seems to decide itself, the ichor will drain into the altar and the machines will creak into life. They will pound metal, grind blades, meld barrels, temper steel--it will forge you the weapons of your dream. The amount of blood required, however, is unpredictable. A mundane blade could require two whole basins full. A legendary bow could require a few drops. Failure to meet the quota and attempts to escape will trigger a nightmare phase, and sometimes, the machinery itself will try and stop you.

Of course, it doesn't need to be your own blood.

Scavenging into the further reaches of the building will reveal old, withered corpses devoid of blood; along with the weapons that were forged out of them. Nobody recommends you take these weapons--some say they're cursed.

Oftentimes, the mechanical whirring sounds like singing.

Edited 2016-07-04 04:19 (UTC)

It's all Ava's fault.

Towards the northeast, the busy city begins to empty out, turning gradually into barely lived buildings and decrepit homes, and is also home to the neighbourhood of the Forgotten. Often simply called "the Neighbourhood of the Forgotten" or the "Alleyway of the Forgotten", it is a large street in the northwest of the city where formerly notable ones lived. Surely, once upon a time, they were somebodies -- but now, hardly anyone knows who they are except for themselves, and they are reduced to competing for homes with the rats. Often as dirty and decrepit as the streets around them, sympathy will make you their god... but not even God could offer memory to every single one in the Forgotten. That's why they're called that -- even the gods have forgotten them. However, there is one upside to this neighbourhood, and that's the plethora of old, archaic information the right person holds. Many of them have lived for far too long, but as long as their memory holds true, they can give you exceptional knowledge of the past.

If you ask the residents of the Illeuad for directions to Pit 91 is, most of them will give you a baffled look, one that suggests the "Are you mad?" hanging from their lips. Pit 91 is one of the most dubious and dangerous places to go by on the outskirts of the Illeuad, towards the northwest, and most residents are practiced in the art of utterly avoiding it... and for those who failed to, their skeletons lie stuck in black tar. If you pass the Neighbourhood of the Forgotten and keep travelling northwest, once the buildings finally taper away, what lies before you is a stretching field of dry, cracked ground, skeletons, and large patches of what seems to be pitch black tar spanning across the area. They hardly even reflect light with their density, appearing simply as an expanse of pure unbreakable black. During the nightmare shifts, strange creatures of bone that died here centuries ago can resurface, and will try to drag you in. And once you get stuck into the black, sticky substance, best hope you have some help on hand -- otherwise, the tar will swallow you whole, and you will join the skeletons in time.

...So what exactly is the positive of ever going to Pit 91? Pit 91 actually contains the other entrance to the Illeuad's Underground, somewhere in the form of a dilapidated mine entrance -- old and long disused, it drips with black liquid into the darkness, but this entrance is always open whether moonlit shift or nightmare shift. Should one be unable to solve the puzzle of the rose garden to get to the entrance within, you can always try your hand at the entrance at Pit 91 -- but it's at your risk.

Edited 2016-07-04 20:18 (UTC)

"Smells like sex."
- Antony (thanks.)

The basement floor of a rather decrepit building, all crumbling apart save for the single vibrant, neon sign on its entrance with a glowing pink heart. The upper floors and lobby are completely inaccessible, with piles of debris taking up the area. Instead, there's a single staircase down into the basement with multitudes of pink arrows pointing down.

Down the staircase is a dimly lit labyrinth of dark walls and...not so PG photos plastered across. Upon entering the labyrinth, a bright magenta floodlight shines upon you and follows you wherever you go. The labyrinth is long and winding, and rumours say the layout changes every time you enter.

Throughout the Cathouse's labyrinth are several rooms of varying size, locations, and contents: some contain items or weapons (or things of...interesting uses); monsters of increasingly...unique appearances; the occasional safe room away from the dark horrors of the maze's halls; or rooms of corpses--the denizens that challenged the labyrinth and perished before reaching the end. The halls itself contain multitudes of monsters--stronger as you travel deeper--and erratic nightmare shifts that become more common the more uneasy the people within grows.

Denizens of the Illeuad claim that reaching the end of the Cathouse and defeating the monster there will grant your wildest 'desires'. Though some believe this as fact, others brush the rumours off and instead enter the basement for a good challenge. Unfortunately not many find their way back out, and even the best attempts at retracing their steps can often cause wanderers to get lost further into the dark corridors.

If one manages to enter the final few corridors of the labyrinth's end, all lights will automatically go out and the area will go into a permanent nightmare shift and will continue to stay that way until the final 'boss' is defeated. After the boss is slain, the nightmare shift will cease and pink arrows will light up the hallways, indicating the path back to the entrance.

Nobody has yet seen the final room of the Cathouse, nor the monster dwelling there.

Borrowed and slightly adapted from the Nightside series. The local bar of the Illeuad, it is the oldest existing bar in the world -- or so they say. Its occupants are sleazy, its owner is a very irritable madman (literally), but overall, its drinks are good and cheap. A classic favourite of many who prefer tradition over the newer, gaudier, entertainment-centric bars, many will call Strangefellows absolutely disgusting and horrendous -- in a good way.

The bar is run by the cranky old man, Alex Morrisley, who is more than happy to insult the everloving shit out of you before finally handing you your drink. Long story short, Alex is a sullen, miserable, and thoroughly cranky individual who always wears black "in mourning for the way his life turned out". Though still relatively young, his constant bitter expression and surly frown has given him wrinkles that make him look ages older. He is unable to leave his position as owner of Strangefellows due to a curse one of his ancient ancestors placed, which decreed that his descendants would have to take care of the bar until another descendant could take the place -- and Alex is well-reputed to be the last of his line at the moment.

Though generally bitter, harsh, and utterly offensive, he carries with himself a sizeable arsenal of useful magics, typically practical ones that help him run his bar. Healing, detox, and protection spells are among those skills, but it is probable that he knows some more dangerous, harmful magic as well -- and god help the poor fool who has made him angry enough to come out from behind his bar.

The bar, largely due to its age and former ownership by a fairly powerful individual, has various types of old magics that protect it from the outside -- namely, Strangefellows may very well be the one place that doesn't change between moonlit shifts and nightmare shifts. Many a poor bastard who were still out on the streets when the nightmare shifts hit will often race towards Strangefellows with urgency, begging to be let in to be saved from the monsters that lurk in the rotted dark. If Alex is feeling nice enough, he might let you in -- so despite his harsh attitude, keeping up good relations with the man could be a good idea.

Mardrom's personal cafe with only a few allowed to enter. An odd and absurdly bright otherworldly cafe. Its dull outside appearance makes it difficult to find such a cafe. Many people are often surprised of its high-class decor, some even find it unnerving how expensive every thing looks. Rumors say that this cafe doesn't really stay in one particular place, rather, it appears when one has a strong desire - of course, along with payment on hand.

The servers adorn maid/butler costumes as well as white masks that eerily look more like a part of their face rather than a mask. Although well-mannered, they share quite a bit a gossip that goes on in Mardrom's domain, along with her involvement in various other worlds too. It's said the servers have ever-changing names, for what reason, no one knows why.

Although mainly grounds of being able to come in contact with the deity of dreams, ordering from the menu works too. At least that's normal with their various selections of caffeine and sweets.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

THE ILLEUAD. [locations.]

St. Jude's Church

Tu Fui, Ego Eris

The Dragon's Mouth

The Bilieu

THE GRAVEYARD

THE ORPHEUM

The Street of the Gods

Le Cirque des Rêves

LAKE OF TRIALS

THE KRAKEN (RESTAURANT)

Die Rosenfeld

The Illeuad's Underground

THE BLOODFORGE

The Northwest; Pit 91

THE CATHOUSE LABYRINTH

Strangefellows

Dröm Kafé