Pronuciation: Dreh-sill-ee-uh
High above the church bells ring and the choir boys slowly make their way through that of the midtown streets. In silence, the elite, those decorated in jewels and silks stop dead in their tracks to make way for the sigil-bearer and those illuminating the streets with strong scents from their golden thurables. No one speaks. No one dares to move. Even the visitors awkwardly shift in their spots.
Drysilia sits as a quiet holy land for god unknown. There are no kings here. There are no empires. The leaders of Faerûn barely even know this place exists. Yet it thrives brightly with no sight of poor or misguided among their streets. Those who make it into the city as a commoner or traveler enters on accident. It's seen as a place to lay a weary head rather than deal with the all too casual nature of the forest and main roads, but even the newcomers refuse to linger too long lest the paranoia of the unknown does them in.
This is a Homebrewed world held deeply within the ideas given from Van Richten's guide to Ravenloft, Blades in the Dark, Warhammer Age of Sigmar: Soulbound, and Call of Cthulhu. The world was created from the ideas given from the players and flexed and fluffed to work with them. As they grow as characters within this world, the existance of Drysilia grows around them to either warp in history or flourish in ideas. However, this is not a city-state to be seen in a positive light as it is filled with cults and rampant corruption from the top.
There's a beauty that keeps Drysilia afloat with tourism. The rivers that curve through the districts, leaving that beautiful streak of crystalized blue that reflects off the deepened river walls, traversed by sellers and fishermen pandering their wares to any who would listen. The poorer districts still hold the wealth left behind those who've long abandoned the old for the shine of the new. As one traverses through, the city surges with life. The people have brought themselves from rags to silks and satins, every ounce of them-- no matter the status of their person-- glistening with hopes that someone would notice their... "perfection."
Shops. Cafes. Casual galas that take over main areas. The music trickles through that of the city no matter the corner and no matter the clientele that saunter through. It's oddly silent, many don't speak nor do they give sight to those new to their home. However, the world stops when the bell of the High Church of the Heaven's Dawn begins to ring. The slow sound of a smaller, creeping bell almost echoes through the courtyard, bringing most to a low bow and others with their heads dropped. Slowly steps in to view a parade of sorts, one devoid of excitement, but lined with young blank faces, all holding golden staves before them. Each one stood blindfolded with turquoise sheer, draped in white robes, yet the tallest one between them all stood grand with a sleek, blank, turquoise mask. Their head turns for a moment, watching those who refused to follow suit or knew nothing of their practice, their invisible gaze lingering on the crowd for far too long before stiffly pulling away.
A couple more appear in the midst of the silent parade. Another, slimmer than the first, stands next to a shorter twin, both holding similar golden masks, a set of red smoking thuribles, emitting a smell far too sweet and almost nauseating. You can hear a blissful sigh come from the crowd around you, many of them lifting briefly to watch the group follow the long trail 'round the courtyard with a quiet wave of multicolored hankerchiefs, and a few, never lifting the cloth free from their face in odd judgement. Eventually they leave and the crowd gives a final, low bow, and the music starts up again as if nothing ever happened.
Heaven's Dawn worships that of the twin successors Celarin (pronounced: sela-ryn) and Ahien (pronounced: ah-ee-in). They were the first leaders of Drysilia and assisted with eliminating that of the First Fall.
With Celarin a proud knight, the stories tell of how he fell a dragon on his first adventure and took its wealth as his own. Here Celarin distributed his wealth to that of the people in order to rebuild their home. As he grew older, it was told that within the wealth of the dragon, he kept the foul beast's heart as a treasure of his own. Seeking power, he devoured the heart only to find himself immolated and ascending to the Grand Hall (ie: heaven.)
Hearing of her brother's demise, Ahien gladly took over in hopes that she could do her brother justice. However in truth, she did not wish to become that of a King and layed out power among that of her peers. But in hope, she pressed that the church would live on as a beacon of his power so that others would know that they could achieve greatness as he did. Eventually, she soon passed on to join his side as the Dragon of Marble (Celarin) and the Dragon of Ruby (Ahien).
What the church refuses to speak of is how, even with the positive light shed, the two of them were the Judge and Executioner. Neither of them cared to give jury to those who wanted to prove their innocence. To the two of them, death was the only way to prove your truth and if you died at their hands, you were amended by that of their stars. Although, what the church avoids in knowledge is that one of them still walks that of the moral plane.
Is it a clan or is it a cult? No one is quite sure. The only things warned to those outside of the city is that they must never cross the church. Rumors sit high and mighty about how, even meaningless people, have come up missing after a mishap and no one is sure if the church has ordered their end or if someone with sway has done it for them..
Decorated with statues of beasts, Darksprawl sits as a reminder of the first fall of Drysilia. Crawling with creatures unknown and monsters only free from the first introduction of the mists, clans ran by hunters and mobs live freely here in attempts to keep the city wall high and strong. To outsiders, this area feels more accepting, even if clannish, than the others.
The church shines so brightly here. Most, if not all of those affiliated with the church live within this district and control just half of the Shortgate and Four Fields markets. When the church bells ring at noon, the people emerge from their homes in unified prayer as the the choir progression makes it's loop around Claygreen Park and back into the embrace of the Heaven's Dawn church.
Ferrymen and travelers usually find themselves here. Though mostly seen as the fresh food markets, it's the least expensive area in the city, but also the most ignored. Though the city itself does not hold any one less than upper middle class, they are more on the middle and lower class side and do not care of the main city. More rogues, oathbreakers, tieves, and assassins are found here.
Here lie the markets and the most active part of the city. Anything that holds entertainment lies here as the rest of it holds mansions old and new, teeming with that of the most affluential.
map can be clicked for larger size.