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The city of Amun-Shar, “The jewel of the East” was once the pinnacle of human splendor. It was the cultural capital of the eastern continents and envied by kings and queens and emperors and tsars of all other realms. The great spires of Amun-Shar carried libraries of vast knowledge – science and magicks alike. Its nobles were rich beyond comprehension, and the bustling bazaars were filled with everything any man could ever desire.

But the nobles grew arrogant, as they so often do.

A caste-system started to evolve as the nobles, encouraged by the (just as rich) priesthood, began to regard their wealth not as a reward from the gods but as evidence of their own divinity. And so they rose, and built a city on top of the city to never come in contact with the rabble of ordinary people. They built “The Nephrite Walkway” – a sprawling system of jade-adorned bridges connecting the many noble towers and spires of the city. Now they could walk around the city without having to share streets with the lowly commoners. They were truly the god-masters of Amun-Shar.

And the commoners grew angry, as they so often do.

In time, the ordinary citizens of Amun-Shar grew more and more resentful of their masters. At the boiling point they rose up to slay the aristocracy and cast them from their towers. The spire-dwellers fought back with all the magic power they had stored in their minarets, and on a cataclysmic night the city crashed to the ground, drenched in sulfur and burning in hellfire. The carnage was absolute. The angel of death swung his scythe over nobles and commoners with no discrimination.

Today Amun-Shar is a ruin city, a whisper of its former glory. Vengeful and angry spirits dwell in its streets and structures, jealously guarding the treasure and knowledge that lies buried in this enormous desert tomb. In a ironic turn of events the Nephrite Walkway and its abutment towers are haunted by the ghosts of commoners and nobles alike.

To download a larger map for personal use, click here.

Some dreams are real and dangerous, as mankind’s imagination can breathe life into beings and places most sinister. This is what happened when Miranda van Sonner dreamt about the Rickety Man in the Sandstone quarter. Miranda is no more, but her unfortunate creations are very much still in existence, and poses terrible danger.

When and where the veil between our world and the dreamscape is thin, due to arcane manipulation or vivid imaginaton, we can slip into these dimensional pockets. What awaits us on the other side is sometimes strange and wonderful, and sometimes wicked and dreadful. A creature like the Rickety Man can latch onto a dreamer, and follow her back to the waking world, or keep her trapped in his eternal domain. Other, more benign entities can offer help and knowledge. Some dreamscapes can even hide powerful artifacts and wondrous treasure.

The Sandstone Quarter is a silent and arid place. It floats in a vast, cosmic void. There is a constant, gentle wind that whisps up dust and sand. A withered plant rustles softly in this wind and dried sloeberries grow from it.

The buildings are larger on the inside than their appearances suggest. There are winding stairwells and many strange, empty rooms inside.

A strange portal in the Sandstone Quarter activates when the veil is thin, and allows travel from the waking world – but does not allow the dreamer to go back unless the Rickety Man grants it.

The Rickety Man is an insidious being. He is thin, dried out, and has a piercing gaze. He is not always here, but fades in and out of existence.

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This map was drewn with artists like Errol Otus and M. C. Escher in mind, as they inspire me greatly.

Click here to download a larger version of the map, for personal use.