Scaled Down Scales
“You think Nine Bells is bad? Spend a night in the
Not a true district, Shantytown clings to the back of
the city like festering boil. Shantytown is a wretched
maze of tents, shacks, and rotting wooden buildings,
and it is home to the poorest and most desperate of
people that have nowhere else to go. Most of Shantytown’s
people are refugees from other lands, victims
of tragedy and circumstance, or exiles who keep a
low profile so they can go about their wicked business
without attracting attention. Thus, Shantytown’s
people are beggars, destitute farmers, maimed
adventurers, undead, necromancers, cultists, and
worse, all thrown together in one of the most
desperate spots in the region.
Buildings: Tents and lean-tos make up the
majority of “buildings” in Shantytown, though some
wooden structures rise up from the mess like islands
in a sea of misery.
Streets: Little better than muddy paths wending
through heaps of debris and filth, no one is sure if the
mud is actually mud. . . .
People: People of all races and from all lands live
here, though humans appear to be the most numerous.
Most have hard luck stories, but a few live here by
choice—for easy hunting or to escape notice.
Sights: One can see a filthy child screaming in the
middle of a street, a flock of chickens fleeing from a
hungry cat, a brown-clad cultist with a rat skull on a
thong around his neck, a shrine dedicated to a sinister
god, and a bloated corpse ripening in the sun.
Smells: Filth, filth, and more filth—the stench of
Shantytown is staggering.
Sounds: Within this area one can hear laughter
and crying, moans and sighs, the squelch of footfalls,
the grunt of pain, the short shriek of butchered
animal, the howl of a dog in pain.