Aestilon

Hidden deep within the Ognan mountain range near Mount Ogun, Rudiana’s forges glow red against the stone, fed by underground lava channels that have burned since the city's founding by the sage Ignor, his legacy endures in every ring of hammer and spark of steel.

Rudiana is governed by the Nine Great Clans, whose craftsmanship and rivalry define its rhythm. Each clan holds mastery over a different branch of creation — from traditional metalwork to arcane engineering, from experimental alloys to living constructs.

Every eight years, the Grand Tournament in the Rudiana Colosseum determines which clan stands foremost. From among their ranks, a sage is chosen — judged by Craft, Leadership, and Wisdom — to guide the city and serve as arbiter among the clans.

The Order of the Sages enforces the law and answers directly to this leader, maintaining delicate peace between the Grandmaster Artisans and the Merchants Guild who run Rudiana’s thriving market.

Built as a single continuous city that bridges The Surface and The Underground, Rudiana descends through terraces and open shafts where one can glimpse entire layers below. The deepest levels are fortified outposts, defending the miners and excavators who venture out into The Deeps. The things that rise from below defy reason — aberrations whose forms twist logic and stone alike, so access to the lower layers requires special permissions.

Rudiana resembles a living forge. Bridges span vast chasms of glowing rock, and colored stones mark its regions — deep crimson halls for the smiths, azure-veined caverns for the enchanters, pale marble dwellings for the beastkin quarter built from stone traded from Piam. Few cities rival its harmony of function and form.

Rudiana’s heart is its forge, and faith burns as varied as the crafts it inspires. Some artisans pray to Ignor before each project, seeking divine guidance. Others see creation itself as the truest devotion — a completed work is a prayer given form. A few turn their reverence to The Three Goddesses, especially Din, the Flame of Creation. Some, however, serve no god at all, chasing perfection for its own sake.

The city’s structure reflects its people: merit-based, layered, and ever-shifting. Clans cluster by craft, while factions maintain their own districts — and the unaligned live where trade and opportunity carry them. The Merchants fill the markets with color and noise, selling goods from every clan to the surface world.

Rudiana rests high in the northern reaches of the Ogunan Summit, inhabiting a big mountain next to Mount Ogun — an active volcano whose molten heart feeds the city’s endless forges. Jagged peaks ring the settlement like a crown of iron, their slopes veined with smoke and ember. In the distance, the mountain’s fiery plume marks Rudiana’s presence even from the plains below — a living beacon of craft and endurance.

From its Grand Gates, a single road winds southward through the high passes, following the River Ogun toward the Aestilon Fields and the city of Kalzendil. This route, though well-kept, is treacherous in winter when snow and ice bury the trail. During these months, most trade arrives instead through the airdock — a zeppelin port hewn into the mountainside halfway up the city’s height, where merchants and dignitaries disembark amid drifting clouds and rising steam.

The mountains around Rudiana are otherwise impassable, their cliffs too steep for caravans and their valleys too narrow for war. Few settlements cling to this range, for the dwarves claim it as their domain. Yet to those who brave the ascent, the city’s glow is unmistakable — a furnace light against the snow, a promise of warmth and industry. Known across Aestilon as *the Anvil of the Mountains*, *the Forge of the North*, and *the Heart of Innovation*, Rudiana stands as a testament to the strength of craft over chaos.

• The Grand Expo (Mid Spring):

The Grand Expo transforms Rudiana into a living exhibition. Each Great Clan unveils its newest creations, from clockwork marvels to living armors, filling the forges and terraces with light and applause. Diplomats, scholars, and wanderers from across the realm attend, and the celebrations spill out onto the Great Terrace, a vast open space carved from the mountain’s far side where large-scale inventions are displayed.

• The Ember’s Silence (late summer):

At the of the summer is the city’s day of rest — a solemn remembrance of the time before fire and forge. Every anvil lies still, and only the quiet hum of molten stone remains. Though simple, it is sacred: a reminder that creation begins in silence.