[hr][hr][center][color=ffe6b0][i]Welcome, traveler, to...[/i][/color]
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[center][sub][url=https://youtu.be/TxDOQSrsy68][color=ffe6b0]Mood music[/color][/url][/sub]

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[i]	Deep in the core of the Dunes lies there a City – Marvel of the world it be, as not such a magic as it exists. The stories which are told to you and I about this captivating oasis in the heart of the Ocean of Dust are true: I have seen it with my own eyes, though many years have passed since my great expedition through the desert. For many long, sweltering days and deep, biting-cold nights we plowed our way through the sands, driven on by the peculiar kevol who drew our carriages across the Dunes. Twice we encountered the accursed, colossal sandstorms of the desert, whirling as high as the very heavens, and spreading from horizon to horizon. After a month’s journey – and what felt like an eternity – we saw the glimmering point of a great tower: Paragon Keep of the Mirage City. I blinked one-thousand times and shook the sand from my eyes until my neck was sore, but in spite of my disbelief we were just as soon upon the phenomenal city gates, and I knew then for it to be true.

	There is no greater mystique in all of Peylor than the City of Glimhollow.

[right][color=ffe6b0]--Boris Nirloff, Annals of Peylor[/color][/right][/i]

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[i]	Here you stand at the Gateway of Glimhollow, the Lone Oasis at the heart of the great desert known simply as the Dunes – a monumental blemish within the center of the world of Peylor. The City of Sand is widely regarded as myth to those who live beyond the Dunes, as the connection to the outside world is nearly non-existent, save for the monthly visits from the Kevol Caravans. A nation built within a single city, Glimhollow has survived for centuries thanks to the mysterious energy of the [color=springgreen]spark crystals[/color] that it lies atop of, as these peculiar jewels fuel every fire, enrich every crop and power every machine within the city’s sandstone walls, as well as below the nation’s mines in what has been dubbed Deepwell – an immeasurable, blackened ocean, extending in every direction but upward for as far as any sparkboat has been able to venture, and return.
	You are here for whatever reason it may be: your elfen grandfather sought refuge from the genocide of his people; your dwarfen ancestors were among the first to mine the crystals that were found here, so long ago; or you’re a simple human traveler, looking to prove the city’s existence to yourself, and discover what secrets it may hold. But alas, you have unwittingly or willingly been snatched into the clutches of the greatest political feud that has ever occurred within this desert metropolis, as the populace has been forced under near-militaristic rule by the Paragon – the council of nobility that dictate every significant action within the city. Beware, as there are dangers lurking behind every corner, and even the sand beneath your boot are more treacherous than it seems…[/i]

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[center][color=ffe6b0][sub]Join the Discord community![/sub][/color]
[h3][url][color=ffe6b0]https://discord.gg/m5wmHBR[/color][/url][/h3]
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[hider=the World of Peylor]
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[i]	The world of Peylor is a super-continental landmass, with an inland sea cutting the northern-most region off from the jungled west and the magnificent Dunes acting as a near-impassible barrier in the center of the continent. It is thought that Man originated from the northeastern shrublands, before spreading northward toward the tundra of Yrthor and southward toward the far more hospitable forests of Berevin in the southeast. Elves claim their heritage to the western jungles of Eir, though little of their ancient kingdom remains except for their half-forgotten tales and forlorn songs. Finally, Dwarves boldly lay claim to the southerly cragged fields of Gasholl, as well as the mountain-range splitting upward between Eir and the Dunes and along the northwestern coast. The most common route of travel across the desert is between Glimhollow and Berevin, as the Dunes between these two regions are smallest and the sandstorms that occur are among the tamest – though that isn’t to say that they’re easily managed.[/i]

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	“The Ocean of Dust”; “Heth’s Bane”; “Desert of the Damned”; these are just some of the countless titles given to the Dunes, though none can fully encapsulate the sheer barren and accursed qualities inherent of this region of the world. Centrally located in the supercontinent of Peylor, the Dunes are a gigantic blemish on the otherwise fruitful landscape, blocking the majority of the world’s nations from direct route to one another and forcing a semicircular design of the hospitable sections of the continent. Considered to be the resting place of the human God of Ruin, Heth, the Dunes have adopted a similar connotation as a place of desolation and destruction. Constantly blighted with gargantuan sandstorms, infernal heat by day, and freezing-cold by night, these comparisons aren’t entirely misplaced, and it truly is a wonder that such a metropolis as Glimhollow has survived for as long as it has amidst the regular devastating forces of nature blighting this desert.


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	The nation of Yrthor spans the whole of the northern tundra, home to the fair people who are descendant from the Yrith Kol: Men of Frost. These men and women of the frozen lands are masters at sea, having established significant trade routes with the coastal cities across all of Peylor long before the Westward Conquest.
	Few Yrthorian men and women ever travel to Glimhollow, as the Dunes are monumentally hotter than the temperatures they are regularly accustomed to. However, salt from this region is often exported to the city, as the people of Glimhollow view such a mineral as an invaluable commodity.

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	The homeland of humanity, Hulstead is an arid shrub- and grassland known for its ranchers, silk-farms and sprawling cityscapes. These peoples, referred to as Steadfolk, are a hardy bunch, making do with the minimal agriculture available while establishing economies from livestock and wood-stone quarries, making the region surprisingly wealthier than the land would at first make it seem.
	A significant amount of trade occurs between the nation-states of Hulstead and the city-state of Glimhollow, exporting livestock and silk in exchange for the city’s abundance of fine jewelry and metals.

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	Seat of the largest nation of mankind by populace, Berevin is a temperate landscape of sprawling forests, rolling hillsides and winding riverbeds. The olive-skinned peoples of Berevin, often called Bervites or Bervians, are shorter than their northern cousins, but still substantially taller than the dwarves and elves to the west.
	Berevin is the most prominent trader with Glimhollow, as the only navigable route through the Dunes stems from the northeastern border of this country. As such, most humans who live in Glimhollow have Bervian ancestry, and the city has occasionally – though rarely in the city itself – been called “Little Berevin”.

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	Gasholl is the cragged homeland of the dwarves, with jagged ranges and furtive valleys crowding the sprawling southern landscape. Most inhabitants of the region preside within the mined halls of the mountains, tunneling great channels and subways between the rocky cities, many of them illuminated by either fire or spark-light. Only in the south is it still common to see the trade of gold and silver, as most other regions of Peylor have adopted wood stone as their currency, a transition surprising to the metal-loving dwarves that see little value in fossilized lumber.
	All dwarfen residents of Glimhollow can trace their heritage back to the many underground chambers of the southern lands, as their old country is still an item of pride for those who now rarely make the trek back home.

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	The Western Ring acts as the great barrier between the west and east, circling the whole western perimeter of the Dunes and housing the sporadic dwarven clans of the north. A region of frequent earthquakes and sprawling fissures, the Western Ring is a hostile environment with the highest peaks in the world, and it comes as no wonder that few choose to live here. The only reasonably navigable passage across the mountains is between Eir and the Dunes, which was ground down by the mass exodus of elfenkind at the end of the second era, in the wake of an event known as the Burning Egress.

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	The once-impenetrable and humid jungles of Eir were the homeland of the elves, but these forests were almost entirely burned away following the destruction of elfen society dubbed the Burning Egress. The charred landscape has since sprouted new life, but no civilization has settled in this region for over five-hundred years, with many humans deeming the region cursed or haunted. Regardless, it comes as little surprise why few would want to make the journey to Eir, as the only boundary not blocked by sea or mountain lies along the southern border, where thick swampland spreads across the landscape, and the wildlife in this region count as some of the most vicious predators in the world.
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[hider=Peoples of Peylor]
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	The most wide-spread and populous race of Peylor, humans have conquered the majority of the known world and established great nations throughout its borders. Often regarded as adaptable, resourceful peoples, this short-lived race has been noted for their positions in leadership and trade, using their charisma and wits to spread their influence across the continent. With the oldest among them lasting into their upper sixties, most humans will live until their mid-fifties, though they make up for this brevity with a decisiveness and determination often not witnessed in the other races.
	Though once plagued by centuries of internal conflict, humans bound together in the wake of the second era to seize power over the entirety of Peylor, even going to far as to ally with the solitary dwarves against their common enemy of elfenkind. This union was short-lived, however, when just as the elfen nations of Eir were burned from their jungles, humanity turned on the dwarfen kingdoms, usurping the stone thrones of Gasholl for the establishment of pretender monarchies in the south. Now, after five centuries of relative peace, the gluttony of mankind has grown starved for power, and a new era of war is on the horizon – one in which the disparate nations of man will contest for the establishment of an empire.

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	Found primarily in the southern nation of Gasholl and the mountain ranges of Kregoth, dwarves have notably spread into their neighboring nations in recent years after the replacement of the stone thrones. The shortest, stockiest race of Peylor, dwarves are regarded for their strength and ingenuity, having built some of the most magnificent structures in the world and made leaps in technology centuries before the first human and elfen colonies dotted the map. Though stubborn, boorish, and loud, dwarves are still respected for their inventiveness and imposing authority, living twice as long as that of a man and being nearly five times as strong as the brawniest of elves.
	Naturally keen to seclude themselves from the outside world, the existence of dwarves was very much a mystery to both humans and elves until the turn of the second era, after the surface races had done well to expand across the rest of the continent. Unfortunately, the suspicious nature of elves quickly escalated into hostility between dwarfen- and elfenkind, resulting in numerous conflicts throughout the second era until its culmination with the Burning Egress, a destruction of elfen society and culture which the survivors still hold against the dwarves to this very day. After this battle, the deceit of mankind saw the supplanting of the stone thrones, seats of immense power and heritage that caused a dwarfen civil war, fought almost entirely underground. At the end of the war, a new dwarfen society emerged from the earth and began to readily spread outward, integrating its culture into that of the predominant human civilization that had established itself across the former dwarven countryside.

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	Bordering on the edge of extinction, elves are a proud, tentative race born of the jungles of [u]Eir[/u], now reduced to minor populations dotting their scorched homeland and scattered throughout human civilizations, though there is a significant concentration of them settled in notable esteem in the city of Glimhollow. The longest-lived peoples of Peylor, elves can savor a lifetime of nearly two-centuries, while remaining quite quick and spry for the majority of that time. This makes the oldest elves seem both incredibly wise and agile and are regarded as sages within their communities. While hardly any taller than dwarves, elves are significantly more slender, and often use this lithesome physique to their advantage, being swift runners and talented climbers.
	Elves have had a hard time recovering since their near-genocide at the end of the second era, as these peoples have extraordinarily slow gestation cycles, as well as the men having only brief periods of their extensive life during which they can inseminate. As such, most elves are required by their families to beget as many children as they can during these periods, to ensure that their race can continue to exist in spite of their waning population. This same responsibility also garners a rejection for mating outside the species, as half-bred elves are absolutely sterile, and are often shunned by their kin in spite of their contributions to society as a whole.

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	While not altogether uncommon throughout the south of Peylor, Half-Breeds are regarded as the mules civilization, always being born impotent, and as such believed to be incapable of contributing wholly to society. While such repression has eased on these peoples in recent generations, this belief is still held firmly in Glimhollow, where nearly a sixth of the populace is of some sort cross-bred but are so heavily discriminated against that little evidence can be presented to incite the contrary. Half-Breeds are most commonly seen being crossed between a human and a dwarf, as the two races so immeasurably outnumber elves that it only makes sense to see such a divide between the commonality of certain mixed races. Human-elf breeds are next-most common, and dwarf-elf is the least, considering that many elves feel hostility towards dwarves for their orchestration to the destruction of their people.
	All Half-Breeds do inherit some of the finer qualities of both of their parents, though they also inherit some drawbacks. A Half-Breed’s lifespan is typically measured around a median between that of their parent races, as well as their physical features appearing as a sort of fusion of the separate species. However, while a Half-Breed does gain the sum of their parents’ strengths and faults, they’re often not nearly as prominent, making them more rounded in ability, but almost always incapable of being exceptional at a single type of feat.
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[hider=City of Glimhollow]
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[i]	Though it seems that the world is limited to only the confines of the city, let this not deter you – Glimhollow is a gargantuan oasis in the sands, with well over a million citizens presiding within its walls, all of them spread throughout the great height, width, and depths of the city. Glimhollow is split into five primary Districts, with each District housing essential sectors that support the entire metropolis.[/i]

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	Serving as the backbone of the entire city, the Drop-Ferry acts as the primary causeway of travel to-and-from the five districts in Glimhollow. Extending from the base of the Sky District to the mouth of Deepwell, the Drop-Ferry’s two main elevators make the normally arduous ascent or descent from each district significantly faster, at minimal expense to the average civilian. While numerous other such hoists exist across the entire city, most of these conveyors are either privately owned or dangerously constructed, making the Drop-Ferry the obvious choice for the majority of the populace.

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	The city of Glimhollow is contained by two monolithic sandstone walls, both of which constructed to block the majority of the city from the ravaging sandstorms that normally threaten the perilous Dunes. The Inner Wall is the taller of the two enclosures, reaching all the way up toward the foot of the Sky District, while the Outer Wall meets the roof of the Gold District and grips the edges of the Gateway – the single looming entrance into and out of the city. While the Outer Wall has only one entry, the Inner Wall has an assortment of doors and gates scattered across its surface, allowing easy access to the space circling around the two walls for both Juggernaut patrols and repairmen.

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	Set at the highest region of Glimhollow, Hallivarr is predominantly housed by the upper-class members of society – nobility, military officials, and wealthy businessmen alike. Amongst themselves, the residents of the Sky District refer to each other as the most sophisticated, well-mannered, and well-dressed members of the entire city. To the rest of the populace, these same characters are regarded as the most pompous, arrogant, and deceitful snobs which recoil at the sight of sand on their boots. Frequently, the large towers and theatre halls of this district are tenanted by an array of festivities and feasts, which all are invited to attend – though whether you can pay your way in is entirely another feat. 
	Access to the Sky District is practically hopeless for those born below a noble stature, as there is a notably high price on placing your name on the selection ballot for access into the district, let-alone the purchasing of one’s license to ride the drop-ferry up after you’ve been deemed worthy of admittance. This impregnable restriction is truly in place so as to keep the ‘common rabble’ from disturbing the Hallivarrian community, though the members of this society would never admit such prejudice in mixed company – heavens forbid they have to face the reality of the growing poverty sweeping across the populace beneath their very feet.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Paragon Keep[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Standing alone as the highest peak in all of Glimhollow rests Paragon Keep – a vast white tower jutting into the sky, serving as the beacon of the city and the first point seen by those who journey there from beyond the Dunes. Inside this monolithic building is where almost all political proceedings of the city occur, as it serves as both housing and workplace for the Paragon Council – the list of fifteen elected officials from each of the five districts who are selected for office every nine years.
	The first-floor of the building serves as the commons area, where every day hundreds of citizens pour in from across the entire city to voice their complaints, grievances, suggestions, and demands – though recently, such activity often comes to little or no avail. The second-floor acts as the center of the city’s treasury department, office to the governmental lapidaries and always being heavily patrolled by the most elite guards of the Juggernaut forces – the Castigates. Floor three is the official Council chamber, where each member of the Paragon carries out their duties to discuss issues from across the city and attempt to find the means to solve them, though anymore most discourse ends in heated debate with little solution being reached. The remainder of the building serves as the housing chambers for the Paragon, with floors nineteen through twenty-three acting as the housing for the Prime Paragon – the five chief officials elected from each of their respective districts to oversee all Paragon proceedings.
	Though there is a twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth floor, the actual purposes of these levels are entirely hidden from the general populace. On the few occasions that the reason for their existence were called into question, the Prime Paragon has stated that these floors are either extensions of the living quarters or perform as worship space, though the validity of these claims have come under much scrutiny in recent inquiries.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Juggernaut Citadel[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Just beside Paragon Keep sits the broad, gray, and cold Juggernaut Citadel, headquarters for the city’s elite military force. Though only half as tall as it’s neighboring spire, this stronghold houses the thousands of officers required to thoroughly police the grandiose magnitude of Glimhollow, and as such measures the girth of an extravagant fortress. Though little is known about the interior of this monumental building, it is commonly understood that the center of the bastion is the Chief Commissioner’s residency, and that rank-residency decreases as one moves closer to the outside, with trainee Cadets being stationed along the outer walls.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Ivory Way[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The Ivory Way serves as the main path of travel through the Sky District, starting and ending at the mouth of the Drop-Ferry and wrapping its way around the entirety of Hallivarr. All along the edges of the white sandstone brick-way are an assortment of elegant shops, exquisite restaurants, majestic theatres, and refined museums. Upon witness of this marvelous display of art and décor, it comes as no surprise that this road is acclaimed as being the most beautiful display of wealth in nearly all of Peylor.

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	Appropriately dubbed the Pale District, Wid is home to the largest concentration of elfenkind in all of Peylor. After the attempted genocide of the elfen peoples at the end of the second era, an exodus of elves flocked into the Dunes so as to find refuge in the city of Glimhollow; a decision considered to the rest of Peylor as an assurance of their demise. Surprisingly enough, the elves were able to brave the Dunes for a long three-month journey – now referred to as the Burning Egress – and even assimilate into the predominantly human culture upon arrival; and as a consequence, most of their culture was either lost or integrated into that of the general populace.
	Notably opulent when compared to the other districts – with the exception of Hallivarr – Wid is set just below the Sky District, illustrating the pyramid of wealth that Glimhollow is established upon. Though it isn’t entirely uncommon to see dwarves or humans sauntering about this district, the residents of Wid pride themselves in their elfen heritage, believing themselves to be the last remaining symbol of elfenkind – despite the evident diminishment of their language and traditional lifestyle. However, Wid has recently come under severe hardship, as the divulgence of the Pale Plague has the entirety of the elfen community in disarray, worried that such a contagion cannot be suppressed.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Gardens[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The Gardens are the city’s main source of vegetation, managed entirely by the once jungle-dwelling elves and quenched by a continuous supply of water from the Deepwell. Since the Garden’s construction, Glimhollow has been able to sustain a growing populace exponentially larger than before, and as such is regarded as one of the most important sites in the entire city – with well-regarded recognition of the Bellows that keep the water pumping upward. While the main Gardens are located on the western side of the Wid, the actual expanse of the growing verdure circles the entirety of the Pale District, lining the Inner Wall with an abundance of fruits, vegetables, and herbs.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Silver Square[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Silver Square is perhaps the most elegant section within Glimhollow that isn’t confined to the Sky District – set in the center of Wid, this hub of commerce and gossip encircles the Drop-Ferry station, where citizens come to spend their hard-earned coins for high-end clothing and dining that is still reasonably affordable. From the Square stems eight main brick-ways that lead to the different sides of the District, until they all meet along the edge of the Inner Wall where they connect to the Silver Ring – the outermost brick-way that circles the Inner Wall and connects each of the main roads.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Ivy Leaf[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	On the southern edge of Wid, a small wooden building rests tightly between two larger sandstone structures, standing out in its mahogany color as one of the few establishments in the entirety of Glimhollow built entirely of lumber. This is the Ivy Leaf, an esteemed tavern and inn serving as the headquarters of the Eildi Society – an elfen-nationalist organization that has grown in influence over the past half-century among the residents of the Pale District. Their goal: establish a contingency to traverse their way across the Dunes and reclaim the jungles of Eir.
	Of course, you could always order yourself a couple of drinks and fall out the door, even if nationalism isn’t your style.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Wan Veranda[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	In the wake of the Pale Plague’s proliferation, a ward for the sickly and dying was necessary to ensure that any outbreak from the disease would be swiftly subdued. As such, the Wan Veranda was constructed in the northern portion of the Pale District, placed opposite the Inner Wall to ensure that entry to the disease-ridden populace was properly secured from any possible spreading of contaminants. Though originally built to be a temporary clinic, the Veranda has since been converted into a full-fledged infirmary, housing hundreds of afflicted elves that have had the unfortunate circumstance of showing symptoms of the Plague.
	The entirety of medical personnel here is strictly human or dwarfen, as they have proven to be impervious to the disease and as such can offer the best treatment without risk of catching the contagion. This distinction of racial care can be quite taxing on the mental state of some patients, as many elves feel discomfort when being handled by members of races that had previously sought an elfen extinction. However, no matter the elf’s outlook, one thing is for certain: if an elf finds himself inside the Veranda, he will almost certainly never leave.

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	The first level of the city visited by travelers and geographic center of Glimhollow, Brenson is the most populated and busiest district of the entire metropolis, appropriately named the Gold District for its distinct yellow coloration and role in the city’s economy. Experiencing the heaviest traffic at all times of the year, Brenson is built upon a thick level of sandstone, iron, and rock mined from the Pits to ensure that it can withstand the sheer weight of the city above it. The Gold District is split into a Northern and Southern precinct, separated by the Bazaar stretching to the east and Roberham Hall to the west. Both precincts are housed by the city’s human population, making this District the heaviest populated of all the city’s sections, as well as the previous seat of the old government when Glimhollow was still primarily a mining community.
	The Southern precinct is predominantly populated by engineers, artisans, builders, and craftsmen of similar trades, whereas the Northern precinct is home to the majority of the city’s human scholars, orators, alchemists, and clergymen; though such a divide becomes less prevalent the closer one gets to the District’s central latitude, where the majority of the merchants and shopkeeps set their stores and boutiques.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Gateway[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Broad as thirty dwarves and tall as a hundred men, the Gateway to Glimhollow rests along the eastern side of the Outer Wall, opening only twice a month as the much-anticipated Kevol Caravan enters and leaves the city, bringing with them an extensive variety of goods, travelers, and reports from the rest of Peylor. While technically separate from the main portion of Brenson, the Gateway is maintained and operated by a combination of Juggernaut patrolmen and Brensonian engineers, as is the space dividing the Inner and Outer Walls.
Built from two monumental slabs of limestone from the ceiling of Deepwell, the Gateway is elaborately cut and decorated with a mosaic of artwork from some of the finest stonemasons and sculptors in Glimhollow’s history, making it perhaps the heaviest piece of art in all of Peylor. Despite the severe sandstorms that erode the sides of the Outer Wall, the Gateway is coated in a protective resin from the Gardens each year, allowing the artwork to remain practically untouched by the sands and winds that so thoroughly grind against the city’s most prominent portal.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Bazaar[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The Bazaar is the single-largest marketplace in all of Glimhollow, stretching through Brenson’s central avenue to the mouth of the Inner Wall, where each month thousands of residents flock to peruse the incoming wares and outgoing merchandise with the Kevol Caravans. The majority of the city’s more prominent storefronts are located along the north and south sides of the Bazaar, as well as a variety of pop-up stands and stalls filling the alleys and brick-ways nearby when there is no longer room to set up these makeshift shops. Almost any variety of goods can be bought here, from fresh, exotic fruits to treasured and costly textiles, and even the somewhat-illicit armament of sparkpistols – so long as they aren’t supplied with any sort of crystal canister.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Roberham Hall[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Following the Bazaar past the Drop-Ferry station and across the Golden Court lands one at the entrance to Roberham Hall, prior seat of the city’s government and renovated housing for the Kevol Caravans. Though only occupied a single evening per month, Roberham Hall still acts as a monument for holidays and city-wide festivals, as its width stretches from the center of Glimhollow toward the face of the Inner Wall, allowing an immense occupancy of nearly ten-thousand if required. The building has been used for an assortment of important events, from the wakes of prominent officials to wedding ceremonies for members of the Paragon and Juggernaut Council.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Quillsman Manor[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Approximately set in the center of the Northern precinct, the Quillsman Manor house is the base of operations for the Librettist’s Guild – a fellowship of playwrights, poets, and scripters whose professions are otherwise banned in Glimhollow. Due to the severe scarcity of paper in the city, the task of writing with quill and ink is reserved to chiefly members of the government, however a demand for calligraphic education in the year 3E194 established the Guild as a distinct school of writing, where members of the city’s elite can go to gain the skills necessary for pencraft. As such, the Manor is a uniquely distinct area of Brenson for its pomposity and exclusivity, making it one of the wealthiest and most difficult leagues to gain admission in the whole city.

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	As the site where the first pick struck the stone that would later widen out into the bottom half of Glimhollow, Shenul is a region of heritage and history, despite its modern charge as a colony of thugs and degenerates. Upper Shenul fortunately has the higher esteem of the two districts: previously a natural deposit of the enchanted spark crystals, this district was entirely carved out of the landscape for its coveted jewels over the span of two-hundred years, carefully etched and mined away to leave the rocks shaped so they could support the weight of the growing community above them. Now colloquially the Red District, Upper Shenul is given such a crimson title in reference to both its scarce glow from the sun and as the seat of the Bellows, giving the entire district a distinct vermilion hue by day and a deep maroon shade by night.
	Populated by predominantly dwarfen families, Upper Shenul is built like a funnel, with the highborn households dispersed across the upper rim in the August Estates, and the laboring tribes scattered throughout the slanting cone. While it isn’t unheard of for humans and half-breeds to inhabit this region, such individuals are typically to be found along the lowest levels of the district, falling in-line with their social standing.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Bellows[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The Bellows are the heart, lungs, and veins of the city – burning the energy from the spark crystals mined below, the Bellows push water, heat, and energy through the whole of Glimhollow, ensuring a continuity of power for the various districts and keeping the metropolis running. With hundreds of forges filling its chambers, the workers of the Bellows are often exposed to heat greater than even the Dunes themselves, and as such can come under exhaustion and stroke if extreme amounts of labor are requested of them. As such, the Bellows also has its own clinic to service these individuals (almost all of them dwarves), as well as a pool of water pumped directly from the aquifer below.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Drop-Alley[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The plans for an automated, sanctioned conveyor system across the height of the city underwent numerous developments, including a popular choice of numerous different lifts split across all of the districts. However, partway through this plan’s original assembly, due to the incredible cost and manpower needed for such a system, the idea was scrapped for a more streamlined, singular model. The resulting abandonment left the residents of Upper Shenul with a conspicuous crater in the western sector of their district, and the rock and sand that was exhumed from this hole was already being implemented in numerous other city projects. So, instead of filling the void, Drop-Alley was ingeniously devised – a gorge of stores and repositories, serving as the Red District’s hub of commerce and storage.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]August Estates[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Scattered across the upper perimeter of the Red District are the dignified manors of the August Estates, where the majority of the dwarfen highborn make residence. These families can trace their lineages back to the foundation of Glimhollow, when the first dwarfen miners discovered the great deposit of spark crystals in the most unlikely region of the Dunes. As such, these clans often also hold lead political, social, or economic positions, ruling over the majority of business and culture within Upper Shenul.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Scarlet Quarter[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	In the lowest portion of the Red District rests the Scarlet Quarter – the unofficial filter of perversion from either half of Shenul. Aptly named for the notable concentration of courtesans and hustlers, the Quarter is where many men of the Gray District travel to escape from the regular turmoil of the streets below. The most notable building in this area of town is called the Rusty Rut – a rather conspicuous brothel that gets away with its perverse business practices by buying off and ‘servicing’ the regional police.

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	In stark contrast to its brother district, Lower Shenul embraces the connotation of abhorrence often belittling the underground portion of Glimhollow, being populated almost entirely with lawless lowlifes, impoverished outcasts, and apathetic addicts. The Gray District is dimly lit with the greenish-glow of sparklamps, allowing for the frequent infractions that plague the Underfolk. There’s notably a minimal Juggernaut presence here – save for the dense guard patrols inside the Pits – as the elite police force seems only interested in pacifying the populace enough to keep them from acting on anarchistic ambitions.
	As the Gray District was dug away, a sharp decline in the amount of spark crystals harvested from the stone brought with it a concern that the entire city would have to be abandoned, though with the breakthrough to Deepwell, as well as the discovery of a giant deposit in what would come to be known as the Pits, hope for the continued growth of the city grew as the population rose upward into the sky far above. However, this expansion left behind a despondent community of those Glimhollow cared little to remember – particularly half-breeds, as the children of these bastard unions of man, dwarf, or elf have the deplorable affliction of sterility, making these scorned souls appear as little more than mules in the eyes of the pure-bred living above.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Pits[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The Pits are the city’s penitentiary, as well as the site of the largest known supply of spark crystals that have yet to be harvested. As such, the unfortunate souls that find themselves unlucky enough to be locked up here are forced to mine the rock in penance for their misdeeds, whether they be serving short spouts for petty thievery, or life-sentences for the murder of a noble.
	Heavily patrolled by some of the most elite members of the Juggernaut forces, the Castigates, no one has ever managed to escape the confines of the cragged prison, as even fights between inmates are swiftly cut short with a single shot of a sparkrifle from these brutal jailkeepers. There is no consequence for these Castigates if they should kill a prisoner, as those who are forced to work here are already deemed the lowest members of society and would be better off killed than to have valuable resources wasted on their preservation.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Nest[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Just a few stories above the mouth of Deepwell sits a run-down, rickety cabin simply called the Nest. This ramshackle shed is the headquarters of the nefarious Dusthawks, a rag-tag team of lowlifes and miscreants that have gained some prominence in the Gray District over the past few years for their involvement with the revolutionary movement started by Rikoris Lex – the self-proclaimed liberator of the half-breeds and impoverished presiding within Lower Shenul. Though they don’t necessarily run with Lex’s organization, the Dusthawks have been regarded as Lexian sympathizers, despite the fact that they’ve only been employed by Lex’s men twice in the past five years.
	Upon entering the Nest, the interior is little more than a typical Underfolk hut: a cramped, musty room with a few chairs, a hearth, and a bar against the north wall, with enough space beside the eastern hearth for about four individuals to lie in relative comfort. Though uncomfortably congested when the whole Dusthawk team is present, the space is typically only inhabited by two or three members at a time, as most affiliates will drift in and out to receive payment and pick up their next mark. Other than the western doorway, there are two exits from the building – one through the hearth’s chimney and another under the bar, opening into a hatch that tunnels through the floor to the sewers below.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Drunkard’s Compass[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The one good place to get some brew in Lower Shenul is in the unlikeliest of places: set just above a prominent sewer ditch, the Drunkard’s Compass’s motto dictates that if you can’t stand the smell, buy another drink. One of the few establishments in the Gray District that has security outside the Juggernauts, the Compass serves as the single haven of refreshment below the surface that has minimal regulation or rules. Just don’t cause any problems, or Bruto’s brutes will throw you into the muck and filth below.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]The Weeping Fiddle[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	A popular alternative to the Compass, the Weeping Fiddle is set in a slightly more aromatic side of town, though with a much greater presence of Juggernaut forces policing the area. A surprisingly decent place to catch some live musicianship and order half-decent booze, the Fiddle is set just a few plots above the mouth of Drop-Ferry station, and as such enjoys a livelier crowd than the impecunious inns below.

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	Beneath the mines of the city lies a vast, pitch-dark aquifer with no known edges – Deepwell. Discovered during a tragic mining accident when the Pits were still active quarries, Deepwell has since become a major role in the preservation and development of Glimhollow, acting as the city’s primary source of water and continuous provider of the marvelous spark crystals – the very lifeblood of the city’s energy. Stemming from the base of the Drop-Ferry to the air just above the aquifer’s waters is the masterfully crafted Cranelift Marina, where the numerous sparkboats tie anchor after their journeys into the Deep. While most within the city regard Deepwell as a foul, accursed sea, few would dare discount it’s necessity as Glimhollow’s sustenance.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Cranelift Marina[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The Marina is the single place below the surface that is devoid of the social and economic feuds plaguing the rest of Glimhollow. A colony of seafarers, Cranelift Marina is home to a variety of men, dwarves, elves, and half-breeds alike that seek adventure and solitude amidst the waves of Deepwell. If one can afford themselves a sparkboat and a crew, they can proudly bear the title of Captain, regardless of how they’d be looked upon in the city above. Most residents who spend their time at the Marina operate the cranes that transport shipments of spark crystal or tend to the dockside, repairing and maintaining any damages incurred from falling stalactites or the wear and tear of the waves upon the hanging anchors.
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[hider=Factions of Glimhollow]
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	Though numerous gangs exist within the Gray District, few have gained as much notoriety in recent years as the Dusthawks. Historically a band of thieves and cutthroats, these criminals have seen a growth in business and recognition since their involvement with the Lexian Resistance, earning them respect among the impoverished Underfolk and unwanted attention from the Juggernauts. Such status has been the subject of controversy within the group, however most members that were defiant to the prestige have since left the gang or endured the cost of celebrity.
	Led by the attentive and resourceful Adnos Valrel, the Dusthawks make their base at the Nest: an admittedly shoddy abode toward the bottom of Lower Shenul, where members come to pick up payments for successful hits and select their next mark. While they rarely have full-blown meetings, Valrel will on occasion call for all of the Dusthawks to return to the Nest in the event they have a significantly sized job to settle, as with the growing unrest stirring the people from complacence in the lowest district, the Dusthawks must ensure that they maintain their foothold within the community, and so long as Rikoris Lex’s little rebellion continues to distract the Juggernauts from their primary duties, this gang is sure to have major plans in store for their own rise to power.

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	With fifteen council chairs and five executive desks, the Paragon Council is a coalition of twenty elected officials chosen for their intellect, oration, or beliefs to ensure the continued prosperity of the whole of Glimhollow. Though, in recent elections, the division of cooperation has widened beyond feasible proportions, causing the majority of time in assembly to be little more than petty squabbling and fierce debate, with minimal legislation actually being passed. The only thing that the Paragon can seem to agree on is that the city is erupting into a state of chaos, and that so long as they cannot come to a consensus, the city will remain just so. This infighting and ferocity has resulted in the growing prevalence of the Juggernaut Corps in most municipal affairs, while the wealthy elites who make up the Paragon work behind each other’s backs to ensure their election this next cycle and the failure of their adversaries.
	The Prime Paragon is perhaps the most enigmatic of the membership, as the five governors have recently taken to spending an unjustifiable amount of time in the height of Paragon Keep, locking themselves away in the upper floors for days on end without any word being sent to the rest of the Council. Rumors have spread across the city of brilliant lights being shone from the windows of the twenty-fifth floor of the Keep in the dark of night, but these suggestions are often dismissed as hoaxes or fabrications as no great audience has ever witnessed these occurrences. Regardless, the increase of absences from the Prime Paragon, as well as the omission of resolution amidst the remaining Council has brought the encroaching election into the forefront of nearly everyone’s mind – for if something cannot be done to resolve the crisis spreading throughout the city, many citizens are expecting the very worst to occur.


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	The [u]Juggernaut Enforcement & Castigation Corps[/u], often shortened to Juggernauts, is an elite military police that administers legal prosecution and civil order across the whole of Glimhollow for the sake of maintaining a sense of peace for the residents and civilians of all five city districts. At least, this is what they advertise themselves to be: in truth, the Juggernauts are the executive and judicial branches of government within Glimhollow, acting as the iron fist of the Paragon to ensure that social stability is maintained, allowing for the division between the wealthy and impoverished members of society to continue stretching in opposite directions.
	Led by the delusional and domineering Chief Commissioner Delin Òllivar, the Juggernauts have evolved into a ruthless martial power, using their strength in numbers and authorized weaponry to brutally punish those that would question the law. For many, the only way to escape such persecution is to simply join the Corps, subjecting themselves to near-torturous indoctrination for the sake of protecting their families.
The Juggernaut Enforcement & Castigation Corps has a unique chain of command, stemming into two separate branches that work to maintain order in the city and within the Corps. Most Juggernauts begin their service as a Cadet, undergoing significant training and indoctrination to ensure that they are physically and psychologically fit to serve the Corps. After being promoted to Officer, Juggernauts are finally stationed throughout the city under a Corporal, a position an Officer can achieve after five years in the service. Corporals report to the regional Sergeants, who are the last members of the force to maintain a rank outside of the advanced branches.
	Upon attaining the rank of Sergeant, Juggernauts have undergone severe mental and physical conditioning, and are then promoted to either the rank of Castigate or Controller. Castigates, the more prominent membership, are considered the pinnacle Juggernaut Enforcer, and are used as guards for members of the Paragon, as well as the guardsmen patrolling the Pits below the city. After serving as a Castigate for seven years, and with the request for promotion, each Castigate is assessed for advancement to the rank of Captain – a position not unlike that of a Corporal, but with a significantly higher paygrade and esteem. Most Captains will maintain their rank until retirement, though those who have distinguished themselves in the line of duty can gain the rare opportunity to be promoted to Commander, at which point they can oversee the operation of a precinct: any of five regions within a city District, with a total of twenty-five precincts in all. From here, though it is exceptionally infrequent, the Commander can achieve a station of Commissioner, who supervises an entire District, as well as being one of five individuals who can gain the honor of becoming Chief Commissioner – the figurehead and spokesman of the entire Juggernaut Corps.
	Controllers, on the other hand, are a unique and little-known echelon of the Juggernauts: selected for their intellect and discretion, these Sergeants are given the opportunity to work in the internal affairs department, dealing solely with affairs pertaining to current or ex-members of the organization. Presumably led by a Chief Controller who acts independently of the Castigate branch, these reconnaissance officers have the harrowing task of keeping Juggernaut secrets within the Corps, ‘taking care’ of ex-members that would go about spreading this information to the public. Though few claim to have seen a Controller in action, each of these officers do well to cover up their tracks, making any such claims easily dismissible and the distinguishing rank seem like no more than a rumor to deter Juggernaut-related discussions among ex-officers.

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	Rikoris Lex and his rebellion have gained a rather significant foothold in Lower Shenul, stirring the oppressed populace into action against the Juggernaut forces and staging a surprisingly successful campaign through the entire Gray District. By the end of 3E525, Lex had risen from obscurity as an unusually rousing orator, criticizing the apathy weighing over the destitute Underfolk and calling for a revolution; a treasonous act that often results in severe penance or execution. However, in spite of the massive bounty on Lex’s head, the freedom fighter has somehow managed to remain active in his insurgency for seven years, avoiding countless assassination attempts and rallying an immense crowd of half-breed followers, each of them enraptured in a fervor to break free of their destitution.
	Officially established in 3E527, the Lexian Resistance has staged successful coups across numerous regions of Lower Shenul, deposing three minor Juggernaut departments and even plotting a raid on one of the five precinct offices, though this incursion was cut short after the arrival of Castigates broke the crowd and resulted in two half-breed deaths. Such anarchistic tendencies have elicited unfavorable views from the upper districts, with the majority of the city’s populace discrediting the Resistance as nothing more than an unwarranted disobedience. The fact that the Paragon nor the Juggernauts have called to mobilize against the Resistance suggests that there is something deeper fueling this continued rebellion, though nothing can be explicitly pointed out as the agent or catalyst.

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	In 3E463, the grandchildren of the nobility of Eir gathered to establish a long-awaited and much-anticipated contingency for a homeland reclamation. Calling themselves the Eildi Society – an ancient elfish term for Liberty – these elves affirmed themselves independent of interracial support and vowed to develop a self-sustaining society within the city-nation of Glimhollow, determined to use their influence to gain the support of Widish residents for their appointment into the Paragon. Now, over half a century later, the Eildi Society holds one of the three council seats from the Pale District and is determined to completely fill the offices in the upcoming election.
	However, with the sudden disruption caused by the Pale Plague, the Eildi Society’s goals have switched to more pressing matters – the preservation of its waning race. As such, great measures have been taken to ensure that pure-bred elves are continuously given treatment against the Plague, and that funding is being given to the developers of the cinder tonic to mitigate addiction and withdrawal symptoms from the otherwise remedial potion. This compassion is limited to pure-breeds, however, as the Eildi Society sees half-bred elves as the downfall of their already diminishing species and will do anything in their power to prevent the reproduction of these sterile peoples.

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	The Kevol teams and their drivers are some of the most hardy, tenacious caravans in all of Peylor, making the journey through the Dunes with a vast cargo of supplies and commodities from across the known world. The Kevol are a peculiar kind of creature, broad in build and standing tall on two muscular, leathery legs, their beaks jutting out from their stout bodies as if Nuen, God of Creation forgot to give these orange-bellied sand-farers a neck to bend with. Their elephantine stature enables them to drag or carry monumental loads across the Dunes, and their blackened, rough hides aid in deterring the sun’s heat during the day and keeping them warm at night.
	There are three trains of caravans, each over one-thousand kevol strong, that traverse the Dunes, each of them traveling for two full cycles before resting for their third cycle. This ensures that there are always two active expeditions, so that when the two caravans intersect one another in their voyage, they will bring with them information crucial to both profitability and security. The three trains are referred to as follows:[list]
[*]the Red Team, led by the dwarven driver Gondyr Horvold;
[*]the Yellow Team, escorted by the Irin Brothers, Nevvy and Dilly;
[*]and the Violet Team, guarded by Madam Frostyearn’s mercenary-brigade.[/list]
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[hider=Timeline]
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	Conventionally regarded as an amassing of mythology and folklore, much of the First Era is regarded as the time when the races of Peylor had their conferences with the Gods, became familiar with their corners of the continent, and identified themselves as beings distinct from, but still a part of the natural world.
Dwarves were swift to retreat into their mountain caves, imagining their Gods abandoning them as they delved into the realms of science and theology. Humans praised their Gods as beings who crafted the world and became pieces of its structure, resolving the race to spread across its surface rapidly in search of each deity’s place of rest. Elves, peculiarly, thought of the Gods as being all of the same God, and this God being a piece of everything, contenting the race to remain in their jungles, exploring and expanding only when the call for adventure deafened the ears of their youth.
	The actual length of the First Era has often been the subject of debate between scholars and clergymen, ranging anywhere from some few-hundred years, to an immense, incalculable number of millennia.

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	The beginning of the Second Era is regarded as the first occurrence of cross-racial communication, set between the adventuring elves of the far west with the dwarves of the south. Spanning over a five-hundred-year period, this era is regarded as a time of knowledge, navigation, and conquest.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Prominent Dates:[/color][/b][/u][/i]

[u][b]2E01[/b][/u]: Dwarves emerge from their mountain-halls to discover established colonies of elves throughout the western hills of Gasholl. These elves, in their suspicion of these brawny figures, withdrew from the region. Both sides view the other’s presence as an aggressive stance, and due to miscommunication and a lack of trust, fighting between the two races occurs over the next five-hundred years.
[u][b]2E143[/b][/u]: Shenul, the mining colony which would eventually grow into Glimhollow, is established in the central Dunes, after the discovery of an immeasurable horde of a powerful, brilliantly beautiful green jewel, dubbed spark crystal.
[u][b]2E304[/b][/u]: Glimhollow is officially founded as the Beacon of the Dunes, as the continued growth and prosperity of the desert colony has amassed an influx of travelers from Berevin and Gasholl to stake their claim and seek their fortune.
[u][b]2E486[/b][/u]: The Burning Egress occurs; an exodus of elfenkind traverses the Dunes toward Glimhollow to find shelter from the death or slavery otherwise ensured for those who remained in Eir. The Deposition of the Stone Thrones also occurs this year, starting a civil war among the dwarves that last for nearly a decade.
[u][b]2E495[/b][/u]: The final year of the Second Era; the dwarven civil war ends, with the usurper kings remaining in power and pledging their aid to the human nation of Berevin; mankind has officially succeeded in their conquest of Peylor, ushering in a new era of peace.

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	After mankind finished their conquest of Peylor, a new era of relative peace fell over the known world as the established nations settled into their borders and focused inwardly on growth and outwardly on trade. The elves that had been enslaved into dwarven and southern human societies gradually integrated themselves into the general populace, with most of their culture and past way of life dissolving along with this integration. Now, five-hundred years since the beginning of the era, petty feuds and rivalries have begun to resurface within human nations, ushering in a prospective new era of war – but this conflict has yet to come to much fruition.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Prominent Dates:[/color][/b][/u][/i]

[u][b]3E174[/b][/u]: Firearms are invented in the shrublands of Hulstead as an alternative form for hunting; this ingenuity quickly spreads throughout most of civilization and is recognized for its efficient ability to maim and kill.
[u][b]3E194[/b][/u]: The Librettist’s Guild is established in Brenson of Glimhollow, as paper – an expensive commodity in the city – is allowed usage within the guild, the first and only instance of the Paragon permitting the sale of paper outside of their own service.
[u][b]3E463[/b][/u]: Descendants of the elfish nobility of Eir gather to establish the Eildi Society, an exclusive elven membership to begin planning for the exodus back to Eir.
[u][b]3E470[/b][/u]: Spark-arms are successfully constructed in Glimhollow, with the invention of the wheellock mechanism and oval boring design.
[u][b]3E472[/b][/u]: Paragon legislation passed to deter the selling of fully constructed spark-arms in Glimhollow, as sanctions are put on the application of spark crystals and their technology.
[u][b]3E497[/b][/u]: The Dusthawks are established in the slums of Lower Shenul by one Lorick Vahn
[u][b]3E510[/b][/u]: The Pale Plague appears in the elder elven community of Wid; the contagion appears limited to the elder or already-feeble
[u][b]3E517[/b][/u]: Cinder Tonic is successfully synthesized and released to the general public as a precaution against the Pale Plague; addiction to the Tonic amongst sufferers of the Plague begins to run rampant, prompting an immediate withdrawal of the concoction.
[u][b]3E518[/b][/u]: Cinder Tonic is re-released in spite warnings of addiction due to a hysteric populace, as the tonic is the only known deterrent.
[u][b]3E520[/b][/u]: Numerous cases of the Pale Plague begin to sweep across Wid, prompting the construction of a ward for the quarantine of elven patients.
[u][b]3E523[/b][/u]: Juggernaut Castigates lay siege to the original Nest, headquarters to the Dusthawks; Lorick Vahn is among the fallen, eliciting Second-in-Command Adnos Valrel to become the new leader of the gang, most members disband immediately after, and Valrel disappears, causing the Dusthawks to cease operations indefinitely; construction of the Wan Veranda in Wid is completed, prompting the influx of numerous Plague sufferers from across the district to be isolated from the masses; half-breed elves with the Plague are refused admittance into the Veranda due to Eildi Society discrimination.
[u][b]3E524[/b][/u]: Most recent election of the Paragon; Eildi Society have a notable victory as one of their prestigious members, Rolim Omakas, is given a seat in the Paragon Council.
[u][b]3E525[/b][/u]: Adnos Valrel resumes leadership of the Dusthawks, ushering forth a new wave of membership within the gang along with the establishment of a new Nest; Rikoris Lex rises from obscurity around this same time, provoking the civilians of the Gray District to rise up against the Paragon.
[u][b]3E527[/b][/u]: The Lexian Resistance is officially founded; the Dusthawks unwittingly conscribe into the Resistance’s plan to raid a Paragon Councilman’s estate as well as depose a prominent Juggernaut department in the bottom-most precinct of the Gray District; the Lexian Resistance declines all collusion between the parties, while the Dusthawks and Resistance become household names.
[u][b]3E528[/b][/u]: The Lexian Resistance deposes a second and third Juggernaut department in the lowest city precinct.
[u][b]3E530[/b][/u]: The Lexian Resistance attempts to besiege a Juggernaut Precinct office in the Gray District, though Castigate presence deters the assault.
[u][b]3E532[/b][/u]: Present year
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[hider=Life in Glimhollow]
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[i]	The city of Glimhollow is significantly different than the normalcy experienced throughout the rest of Peylor - here, mechanized power and devices are the norm, permeating into everyday life and expediting menial labor. Of course, such technological advancement wouldn't be possible without the main lifeblood of the city - spark crystals, and they're manufactured application.[/i]

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	The strange, pulsing green jewels found beneath the earth in the Dunes glow with an eerie, ethereal energy. Spark crystals, as they’ve come to be called, are named for their diamond-like durability, causing sparks to fly off of the pickaxes that strike them. Imbued with incredible energetic qualities, these precious stones have since been converted into sources of power for the numerous machines developed across Glimhollow, most notably being used to fuel the Bellows in the Red District and be cut into cylindrical capsules that can be mounted into automatons and tools. One such peculiar use for these gems is the enrichment of soils, whereupon being ground into a fine powder and strewn into the dirt will enrich seemingly barren plots of land and have thus been employed in the Gardens of Wid to maximize crop production in ways that weren’t fathomable to these same plants in their native climates.
	Despite swaths of alchemical research and countless experiments, very little is known of the chemical properties of spark crystals, and their synthesis for creation is entirely unknown. Theories suggest that millennia of intense heat and pressure placed upon the remains of deceased creatures could cause for their formation, but nothing is truly understood about these stones beyond their immense source of energy.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Machinery[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Most mechanisms in Glimhollow are built of metals found beneath the city; the majority of which are bronze, copper, and iron. Powered by spark capsules – a cylindrically cut spark crystal often locked in a glass canister – these machinations can perform a variety of tasks, from basic tools performing more expediently to automated tramways assisting the transport of peoples and goods, from self-rowing spark-boats stirring the waters of Deepwell to gargantuan automatons, built to haul monumental loads and pacify aggressors. While these larger automatons are typically restricted to city officials, advanced gadgets and apparatuses are rather commonplace in Glimhollow, causing the majority of simple tools to be viewed as obsolete.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Spark-arms[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	The ordnance of Glimhollow is far more advanced than the firearms of the rest of Peylor, whereas most foreign guns use a matchlock firing system, spark-arms employ the wheellock mechanism into their design and implement a thin plate of spark crystal, dubbed a spark disk, into the wheel-axle. While still relatively costly in production, spark-arms have been heavily implemented into the Juggernaut arsenal, praised for their reliability and ease of preparation compared to their matchlock counterparts. Both varieties of spark-arms are predominantly muzzle-loaded, though recently breech-loaded designs have surfaced in the market, though often these guns are significantly higher in price.
	Sparkpistols, being the only variety available to the general public, are technically not allowed to be sold in a finished state, with their spark disks being entirely absent from the wheel mechanism due to the governmental sanctions on spark crystal manufacturing, though most craftsmen will still be allowed to sell the gunpowder and rounds to accompany their weaponry. However, spark disks can still be bought and sold on the black market, often at an exceptionally greater price than they would be found otherwise due to their significantly small size.
	Sparkrifles, however, are strictly limited to the usage of the Juggernaut Corps, and any civilian caught wielding a rifle will immediately be apprehended, regardless of whether the spark disk is present in the wheellock’s axle. While the gun’s barrel may appear a simple smoothbore, the barrels of these guns are actually slightly ovular in shape, which is spun to create the effects of rifling, improving the gun’s accuracy and range significantly. This enables the usage of a variety of munitions to be fired from these rifles, allowing the wielder to choose between a long-ranged, tactical fire or an up-close, scattered shot.

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	Across the whole of Peylor are sites of petrified forests, even buried beneath the sands of the Dunes, suggesting that the entire continent was once lushly covered in an array of immaculate, gargantuan wooded flora. The economies of the world began to use the polished and rounded carvings from these trunks as a form of currency, with certain colors representing different values and being used as a commodity to measure weight and length. While gold and silver can still be seen trading hands in Gasholl, wood stones, as they have come to be called, or simply stones, are accepted as a viable form of payment across the whole of Peylor, as they’re difficult to counterfeit and have even been used in jewelry for their vibrant color and elaborate engravings from their craftsman, called a lapidary.
	There are five different types of stone, each of them being cut into a disk approximately an inch in diameter and weighing in at about half an ounce:[list][*]Wood, a yellow/brown color, is the lowest denomination and most common variety
[*]Jet, a deep black shade, valued at two wood stone
[*]Rose, either red or pink colored, valued at five jet, or ten wood stone
[*]Vert, a range of green hues, valued at two rose, or twenty wood stone
[*]Tarn, a deep blue shade, valued at five vert, or one-hundred wood stone[/list]
Due to the relative scarcity of vert and tarn stones, most people carry around an assortment of wood, jet, and rose, paying for the majority of goods in these units.

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	Though the origins of the disease are still a mystery, one thing is absolute – the Pale Plague is a contagion that has swept across the elfen populace of Glimhollow with inconceivable celerity. First noted among the older members of the populace, the sickness is usually identified as an extreme discoloration of the skin, accompanied with wet cough, uncontrollable sweating, fever, and even minor tremors. More severe cases will result in vomiting, seizures, fainting, heart palpitations, and, ultimately, death. While most sufferers are quarantined off in the Wan Veranda, its difficult to discern whether an elf has the sickness until it’s no longer treatable, at which point they can attempt to mask it with the curative, but highly-addictive cinder tonic, or submit to the frequent calls from Juggernaut patrolmen to join the masses in the Veranda.
	Unfortunately, the Plague isn’t isolated to just pure-bred elves. Half-breeds with an elfen parent are just as susceptible to the disease, though due to their lowly status, they aren’t allowed entry to the Veranda, and can rarely afford the tonic to deter the affliction from spreading. As such, the Plague has made swift work of the Underfolk, with countless bodies piling up in the district’s sewers with no location for them to be buried. This has caused an even greater outbreak of pestilence in Lower Shenul, as humans, dwarves, and their half-bred kin are just as likely to fall ill from the contamination riddling the streets.

[i][u][b][color=ffe6b0]Cinder Tonic[/color][/b][/u][/i]
	Synthesized just as the Pale Plague was beginning to adversely affect the whole of Wid, cinder tonic is the single-known medicine to deter the effects of the Plague from the drinker. A horrifically bitter, spicy brew, the tonic is horrifyingly addictive, with most elves developing withdrawal symptoms after a single dosage. This usually isn’t an issue for the elves of the Pale District, as their affluence affords them numerous prescriptions, but for the impoverished half-breeds of the Gray District this can often only worsen their suffering, causing rashes to sprout across the whole body, as well as mind-splitting migraines interrupting their everyday activities. The recipe for the tonic’s creation is still kept secret from the masses, adding to the outrage of the Underfolk’s grievances, though no quarter is being given to dampen their pain.
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