The Bastion of Last Hope
| Planar City | |
|---|---|
| Plane: | Carceri |
| Layer: | Othrys |
| Ruler: | The Steward |
- Trust no one. Your best friend is yourself, because everyone else has their own agenda. If you find power that's not your own, tear it down before it's used against you.
The Anarchists, schemers and plotters that they are, find a bitter pleasure in the dark anger of Carceri. They maintain a headquarters called the Bastion of Last Hope, squatting far back in the mountains of Orthys. It's made of black, igneous rock that seems to soak up the reddish glow of Carceri. Though the tower doesn't reflect the red, the light lends the Bastion an aura of brooding menace. From certain angles, the Bation resembles nothing so much as a huge, squatting toad. The only entrance (at least from Carceri's dim layers) is through the toad's mouth, and its low-set eyes serve as watchposts for the guards. Inside, the decor's black, dank, and dark. Precious little light shines within these walls, because it seems the Anarchists don't really want any shed over their plans and their identities. Indeed, most of 'em go masked throughout the Bastion.
A group of servants live here, never seeing the light of another plane. They're allowed to leave, but they insist that they're happiest at the Bastion, helping to restore vitality to those who tear down the oppressive structures of government. Either they're congenitally helpful, or they've got more secret motives. Naturally, those who come here suspect the latter, since they're all schemers themselves. The servants are the only ones in the place who don't go masked or hooded.
The passages through the Bastion turn and twist without apparent order, and side tunnels appear out of nowhere. Hangings are drawn across the openings of rooms to protect the privacy of those inside. The walls're usually humid and damp to the touch, and it's surprisingly warm inside, though not uncomfortably so. The floors are uncommonly smooth, but it's apparent a chisel's never touched the floor. Chant is the tunnels extend deep into the mountain on which the Bastion rests, though some say all the twisting and turning within the visible fortress only makes it seem so ungodly immense.
Despite the lack of an organized militia in the Bastion of Last Hope, the Anarchists work surprisingly well together, ganging up with bands of three to six to stop the trouble. If an entire cell of members is here, they work together even more effectively, using the darkened rooms and twisting passages to bring down troublemakers. The definition of troublemaker varies, and conflict sometimes develops between cells, but usually infighting consists of harsh words and cruel jibes. More serious trouble, such as invading fiends, spies, or outright physical warfare between cells, unites everyone in the Bastion against the source of infection.
A blind doctor here goes by the name of Blind Trust. He's one of the best face-surgeons anywhere, or so the chant goes. He can make a body look like just about anything, and does some incredible magic with paint and dyes. Those who go under his knife definitely come out changed. The only problem is sometimes Blind Trust gets blind bubbed, or blind crazy. There've been tales of him botching a simple nose change because of his drinking, and others that tell of him just cutting one of his clients to pieces on a whim. Those who take a chance on his operations do so knowing that it might lead to their deaths. Therefore, only the truly desperate seek him out.
No one actually rules the Bastion, since the Anarchists can't stand anyone telling 'em what to do. However, a woman known only as the Steward has appointed herself as the one who keeps the place in tip-top shape, ready for any contingencies. She's the ruler by default, because she doesn't trust anyone else to do right by the League. She oversees the stocking of the larders and the hiring of various services, and does her best to check out everyone who comes here.