Greyburgh Market
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A Region-Based Expansion for Fragged Aeternum.
"Come one¸ come all¸ come fat¸ come small¸ we've wares to sell and dreams to weave¸ desires to stoke¸ and ailments to balm. You there! Stride no further into the market! First¸ harken to me! Close your eyes¸ traveler¸ just trust me¸ I'll not steal from you. Good¸ now imagine what you seek¸ anything¸ even if it has never existed - a bauble conjured purely from your most fevered dreams… now open your eyes. I guarantee you'll find it here in Greyburgh... it's all a matter of seeking. But some seek day and night¸ for years even! First they lose their way among the labyrinthine shops and stalls¸ then they lose their purse¸ then their teeth¸ then their mind.
The market can be a harsh mistress¸ friend¸ but fear not¸ you've me to guide you. I swear I'll see you to your heart's desire and safely out again… for the right price… everything here in Greyburgh has a price… if you are willing to pay it."
- Graemin Satterlay¸ Greyburgh Market Barker and Lantern Guide.
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The Scarsbourne river draws fleets of mercantile vessels from the vast reaches of Aeternum to Greyburgh Market¸ there to divest their exotic cargo¸ and disembark cloaked strangers from far-flung places. The market is a crossroads and a dumping ground for some the most arcane and esoteric oddities coughed up by vagabonds¸ traders¸ the dead and the dissolute. Any goods and services imaginable can be found for sale among the market's sprawling warrens of shops¸ stalls¸ tents and stands¸ and for the right price¸ any dream can be bought¸ and nightmares are sold for a song.
Learned and dedicated seekers can unearth any number of priceless relics¸ from the funerary scrimshaws of long-dead magistrates¸ and arcane orreries whose levitating spheres match no starry sky ever glimpsed by sage or traveler¸ to sheet music to soaring arias about heroes whose names have sunken into antiquity¸ strange votive candles sculpted from soul-wax whose wicks hiss and scream with the voices of the undying¸ and the tattered journals of long-vanished explorers bearing their hastily scrawled last wills and testaments.
But to seek is to risk¸ and Greyburgh draws as many terrors as it does treasures. Horrid predators stalk the stalls as well seeking prey¸ sport¸ or perhaps a tome holding the secret to whatever ancient curse drove their family into ruin¸ and turned their flesh to putrefaction. Knives hide beneath cloaks¸ talons up sleeves¸ and more than one cowl conceals an ancient vampire's glistening fangs. Forbear¸ for Fiends¸ deathless horrors¸ and cursed beasts prowl and (even peddle their own wares and services) throughout Greyburgh Market.
From the Market's southern spur¸ the long¸ serpentine Greyburgh Street slithers and wends its way across the entirety of the Strigham District¸ bringing the insidious and inscrutable interests of noble houses¸ and other intrigues into the market where tensions sometimes explode into murderous melee or arcane duels.
More perilous still¸ the market rests in the long and sinister shadow of Drachengeir's Palace¸ where the towering draconic-Fiend¸ a living cathedral of smoldering bones and eldritch horror¸ dwells within its crumbling and ancient lair. To date¸ the Fiend has never directly preyed on the Market¸ choosing to feast and raze elsewhere¸ rather than disturb his roost. However¸ occasionally the odd relic from Drachengeir's Palace finds its way into the market stalls¸ found by some tinkerer or peddler in the gutters¸ washed down from the draco-Fiend's teeming hoa