Role Playing Games/Hyborian Nights/Locations/Imystrahl

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Imystrahl

Imystrahl, the city-state that gives the region its name, is Thule’s oldest realm, and by far its most decadent (and on this continent, that’s saying something). The elves of Imystrahl are cruel, capricious, and dissolute, looking inward in search of rarefied pleasures and interacting with the outside world as little as possible. The noble elves in Imystrahl’s highest castes don’t just spurn the world outside the city’s walls—they spend as little time as possible in the conscious world, preferring their own drug-addled dreams as they consume the narcotic known as the Black Milk. Ordinarily, elves don’t sleep or dream in the traditional sense, but Imystrahl’s decadence has turned this on its head. The noble families of Imystrahl sleep upward of 18 hours a day, dreaming vividly all the while.

A caste of half-elves, prized because they have elven blood yet do not succumb to the Black Milk, keeps much of the city running. Though technically slaves, they wield significant influence on their drowsy, decadent masters. Humans and people of other races are generally slaves or “untouchables,” when they can even gain access to the city in the first place. The red-plumed guards of Imystrahl’s famed Bonedust Gate—half-elven warriors of great repute—demand a truly compelling reason or a truly significant bribe to allow travelers beyond Imystrahl’s gates.

Imystrahl is a city-state in steep decline, but that makes it all the more interesting for adventurers. If one needs a sage with obscure knowledge about Thule’s distant past, a rare reagent for a magic ritual, or a long-forgotten portal to a far-off corner of the map, Imystrahl is the place to go... but beware entanglement in Nyarlathotep’s schemes, and know that a cruel elven sorcerer is doubly dangerous when roused from dreamy sleep to black anger.

The Rise and Fall of Imystrahl

Elves came to Thule via world-gates more than 5,000 years ago. They were a more powerful, ambitious people back then. The elven nations of Imystrahl and Sersidyen went to war against the serpentmen and rakshasas that dominated the continent, and over the centuries, the elves ground out advance after costly advance. The rakshasas retreated to Hellumar and the serpentmen lost their great fortress of Bhnaal Pruth. As the elven numbers diminished through attrition, they bolstered their ranks with humans—sometimes slaves, sometimes mercenaries, sometimes junior partners in alliances of convenience.

The humans learned well from their elven masters, and in time they rebelled. The armies of Quodeth conquered Sersidyen completely, and the elves of Imystrahl retreated to Thule’s southern coast. Elven dreams of empire diminished further when the Atlanteans arrived in 307 AR, sweeping elven fleets from the seas and sacking the city of Imystrahl itself. The elves repulsed the Atlantean raiders, but at great cost: the city lay in ruins, and elven armies elsewhere in Thule made their way home to Imystrahl.

Over time, the elves rebuilt, never forgetting the blow struck by the Atlanteans and occasionally using their magic to thwart Atlantis’s colonial ambitions in southern Thule. The elves rejoiced in 1906 AR when Atlantis sank beneath the waves, and many would love to see the last survivors of the Atlantean race leave Thule for good.

About 40 years ago, Imystrahl found a new decadence, one that would reshape (and perhaps doom) their society: the Black Milk. Introduced by Suric Dyamath, self-described “harbinger of Nyarlathotep,” this narcotic extract from jungle flowers has the city in its grip. Higher-caste elves spend their days in slumber, dreaming strange dreams. Meanwhile, the city crumbles around them, strange monsters flit from rooftop to rooftop, and Nyarlathotep’s servants have functional control of the city.

At its height centuries ago, Imystrahl was an inspiring metropolis of marble and alabaster, delicate white spires rising above the deep blue harbor waters. Now the marble is crumbling, much of the alabaster has been stripped to pay for Black Milk, and a layer of soot means the city has literally lost its luster. Stone walls surround the city in all landward directions, and a series of breakwaters protects the harbor from both weather and seaward raids.

Inside the city walls, Imystrahl is a warren of structures constructed at odd angles, streets that dead-end without warning, and tall buildings that often blot out the sun. For the visitor, it’s a remarkably easy city to get turned around and lost within. Because the elves care for little other than their own narcotic dreams, all manner of monsters lurk in the dark alleys and shadowed balconies of the city—some summoned specifically by Nyarlathotep’s agents to feed on the fevered dreams of the elven nobles.

The city is also eerily quiet, because much of the city is sleeping, day or night. The fastest way to draw attention from the city watch (well-armed and brutal half-elves) or house guards (mercenaries in the employ of a high-ranking house) is to make a lot of noise.

Places of Interest

Bonedust Gate: The main land entrance to Imystrahl, Bonedust Gate is a fortress embedded within the city walls. It takes its name from the fine white powder on the inbound road—the powdered bones of millennia-old enemies of the elves. It’s hard for ordinary travelers to get past the surly guards at the gate, unless they have black lotus to trade or enough gold to bribe the guards (the bribe amount is variable, but 10–100 gp for a small party is a good starting point.

Western Dock: Any ship not obviously Atlantean or hostile can dock at the westernmost pier in Imystrahl’s harbor, but getting beyond that pier and onto solid ground requires rare flowers or gold, just as for the Bonedust Gate above. This dock is Imystrahl’s primary point of contact with the outside world, though it’s mostly trade goods, not passengers, that embark and disembark here.

Spire of Zaal: Among the more wakeful of the elven nobility are the arcane sages of Zaal, who study ancient elven scrolls and argue esoteric points of magic theory from within the walls of this slim spire near the center of the city. A product of centuries of magic, the Spire of Zaal is far larger on the inside than it appears from the outside, and even the sages don’t know where every hallway leads (not that they’d admit this, though). The sages are in the thrall of the Black Milk, though they aren’t entirely crippled by it: they still rouse from their slumber to continue their studies in fits and starts. The sages of Zaal can be information sources, patrons, or antagonists for the PCs, and the interior of the spire can certainly be an adventure site in its own right. Among the sages’ current obsessions: finding and restoring the World Gate believed to lie somewhere underneath Imystrahl, how to use Black Milk to open a path to the Dream Dimension, and unearthing some lost arsenals from the long-gone elven empire of Sersidyen.

Gyrann Prison: Many of the wretches in the dungeonlike prison underneath Imystrahl are common elven and half-elven prisoners, plus a few dissidents troubled by the growing influence of Nyarlathotep. One wing, though, is composed of noble political prisoners— elves who lost political struggles and are now restricted to small but comfortable cells underneath the city. The political prisoners get gifts, including Black Milk, from their families. One prisoner, Dzorik Trenaal, is a botanist trying to grow the black lotus hydroponically underground. If Dzorik succeeds, he’ll win his freedom... and cut off one of the few remaining reasons for Imystrahl to contact the outside world.

Additional Info

Authority: Vaas Kuruthim is the titular master of the city, but he hasn’t been seen awake in almost a year, and the Kuruthim family in general rarely leaves their noble manor. Day-to-day city operations fall to Crothia Zearein, “tyrant general” of Imystrahl’s standing army, who has resisted the lure of the Black Milk so far.

Trade: The only import Imystrahl cares about is black lotus from the northern jungle, though the city can’t feed itself and imports fish and farmed goods, mostly by sea, from the rest ofthe region. They export “antiques,” which is a kind way of saying that they’re stripping their own homes bare to pay for more Black Milk. An ordinary city would bankrupt itself in a matter of weeks at this rate, but Imystrahl had millennia to gather wealth and craft fine goods.