Whispers of The Carrion Crown
|NE large city|
|Corruption +6; Crime –2; Economy +3; Law +5; Lore +4; Society +1|
|Qualities notorious, pious (Pharasma), rumormongering citizens, strategic location, superstitious|
|Danger 20; Disadvantages impoverished|
|Population 12,080 (11,800 humans; 100 dwarves, 75 elves; 55 halflings, 50 other)|
|Countess Solismina Venacdahlia (NE female human aristocrat 9)
Ailson Kindler (NG female human bard 9/Pathfinder Chronicler 4)
Father Ossmander (N male human cleric of Pharasma 8)
|Base Value 5,600 gp; Purchase Limit 37,500 gp; Spellcasting 6th Minor Items 2d4; Medium Items 1d4; Major Items 1d4|
Native Ardealians refer to Ardis as the True Capital of Ustalav, regardless of whether they remember the city’s slow desertion with the court’s relocation south. With the stubborn arrogance of those still bristling from the sting of decades-old defeat, the people of Ardis cling to their pride, their traditions, and their vaunted past, as nearly all else has passed them by.
Gargoyles clamber upon the needle-sharp towers and lean onion domes of Ardis’s aged architecture. Sweeping arches, somber spires, and rib-like buttresses once served to give the city center an air of hallowed circumstance, as if every dark stone edifice were the setting of some great import. Yet, as if no longer supported by the magnitude of the deeds that once transpired within their halls, many formerly great buildings show the weight of somber years, appearing ever more like neglected crypts and sagging tombstones. While neglect shows throughout Ardis, some of the city’s districts now stand largely abandoned, the thoroughly pillaged communities primarily the demesne of rats and squatters.
The people of Ardis widely share an impotent anger and sense of injustice, yet how such feelings exhibit themselves varies. Most consider themselves patriots and hard-liners as they curse the royalty and other former residents as fools and traitors. Many of the younger generations feel as though they were born into the aftermath of some elaborate con, of which they’re forced to live with the consequences. Their anger tends toward visceral outlets, as penniless noble scions drink and smoke away their ancestors’ sins, while impoverished lowborn form gangs and avenge themselves against forsaken structures and the elite who wander through their territory—even though such lingering nobles rarely have it any better than they.