On Ecetopia, with its back to the mountains known as Antioch's Wall, and cradled in the warm embrace of the fast flowing Brisk,just east of Evenshire, north of Riverdale, sits a city. The city has no founders, society just seemed to congregate at this spot until they realized that the land they had paved was a city. Today this gleaming beacon of progress, commerce, debauchery, politics and many other things, welcomes beings from all over Ecetopia ( and all the worlds beyond).

Levels of wealth are clearly defined in the layout of the city. Closest to the Brisk, and more prone to the spring floods, is The Landing. The Landing is home for many shipwrights, dock workers and their families. It is also home to the poorer citizens, those not able to afford the next tier of New Bastion life.

Up rough stone hewn steps or the steep wagon switchbacks, you enter Trader's Terrace. Trader's Terrace is home to the working class. Artisans and crafters scrape out a living on these streets. Here you will find the guild halls and safer lodgings.

The black smoke of the smithies, mixed with the smell of rising bread, enters the next level of New Bastion, Silver Seat. On New Bastion's third terrace you will find the bankers, the Mage schools, and the homes of New Bastion's more well to do. They sleep only under Bastion Hall and The Cathedral of Deities.

The Magistrate Lord chosen to govern New Bastion, so chosen by his Majesty, deals his political dealings in those mighty halls. From here it seems that Bastion Hall is too large for a borderland lord, that’s why the rumors are, that only a quarter of it’s rooms are used. The rest of the hall is a constantly changing dungeon, hiding secrets within the city's heart. Atop those halls, stand The Brothers. Some say those are the brothers that raised the first wall, mortared the first stone. Some say they are great protectors, in tireless vigil over their charge. I think they are nice to look at, they look good on Bastion minted coins.

Places of Interest (( Ready to add more, help the city grow))

The Landing:
The Boorish Hound- The beer here is the most watered down, the food the oldest, the bed straws more rife with life. But you can find a wider range of services rendered.
Arjack and Sons- One of the oldest and most trusted shipwrights on Ecetopia
The Soft House- A brothel serving sailors.
The Sands- A competitive fighting arena.

Trader’s Terrace:
The Plastered Fly- An adventurer’s tavern, through and through. Owned and operated by retired adventurers.
Black Tongs- A Blacksmith
The Hide Away- Leatherworker
Dolores Fetunia’s Fine Tailoria- Tailor and Dressmaker
The Market Square- Merchant’s travel from up and down the Brisk to sell their wares in the square.
The Dancing Dryad- A more expensive brothel.
Apothecarium Arcanum- A potion seller and regent supplier.

Silver Seat:
University at New Bastion- College of the Arcane Arts.
Two Brother’s Trust- Grand Bank of New Bastion

The Cathedral of Deities- A collection of individual churches making up one massive cathedral that houses clergyman and servants to many different religions. Peace is adamantly maintained here, not just by the city guards and the cathedral’s clerics and paladins, but buy the very church itself.

TC Bywater loves New Bastion. It wasn’t his birthplace. It wasn’t where he grew up. But it is a city he fell in love with. Sure he would travel a lot. Sometimes he would get too much heat with the city watch, sometimes the Marks would wise up. Sometimes he went to places where The Greedfather, requested he go. To run his errands. Sometimes, he went home to visit his mother. But, he always came back. Always checked in at The Plastered Fly, caught a show at The Dancing Dryad. Always to reap the new crop of suckers, too loose with their coins.

The plays and cons got a lot easier after Mrs. Bywater’s baby boy became an errand boy for The Greedfather. But, they didn’t become any less fun. TC had set up shop at The Boorish Hound, he wouldn’t hustle at The Fly, he liked it’s owners too much, and they wouldn’t put up with his shit. But, The Boorish Hound always had a new batch of marks and the owners never paid him any mind. “Aww, shucks TC you got me again, you're just too quick.” a young sailor from Evenshire says goodbye to a hard earned gold piece. “ But, you always were even when we were young.” TC reveals a bright red ball from under a wooden cup. “ Yeah, that is true friend. Listen, I’ll reign it in a bit and we go double or nothing. I’m not breakin’ ya balls, real slow like.” Doubt crosses the young man’s face, “ I, uh I don’t know TC.” ” Hey come on ya, ya whimpering little..., listen friend, look at these little hands, can’t be that quick, walk out of here with 8 brothers, get ya self a nice broad at The Soft House.” He brightens up and slams, two more coins onto the beer and wine stained table. The red ball is rolled beneath a cup, and TC begins to shuffle them about. The cups slide smoothly across the table, never reaching a fast pace. The sailor watches the cups with a burning intensity. The cups stop, and the sailor points at the red balls cup without hesitation. But when TC lifts the cup, no ball. “ Sorry friend, listen, you head down to the bar, I’ll join you in a bit….” The dejected sailor turns and heads down a steep wooden staircase,”...you dumb motha fucker you.” TC stacks the cups on the table. There never was a ball, just an illusion. Just a trick of light, cast through a demonic lens. TC had never met the sailor before today, just honeyed words on an enchanted tongue. Four gold coins are swept into his pocket.

He exited through the back of the tavern, through the kitchen. The little folk are often overlooked. TC had headed to the East Stairs that lead up to Trader’s Terrace. His destination was The Plastered Fly, where he could enjoy pleasure, not work. But first, he had to conquer these stairs. "These fucking stairs."

TC was sitting at a long table in a dark smoke filled hall. The table was adorned with bright red candles, food from every race and nation stretched before him. He felt confused, the last ting he remembered was taking a room at The Plastered Fly. I didn't drink that much! Did some greasy fuck slip me Mickey? That's when, he heard the scrape of a knife on porcelain. Next to him was The Greedfather, shoving a large cut of what seemed to be raw meet in his mouth. His mouth stretched to a bizarrely large size and the cut was gone. He smeared the myoglobin away from his mouth. His skin was red and green, like a man both sunburnt and seasick. Rams horns curling beside his face, smushing his rotund features. He wore a velvet smoking jacket stained with the food he had already devoured. He spoke with a clam voice, his voice was gerbled in jowls like his cheeks were filed with cotton balls, " Trajan Clarendon Bywater I ask of you to head south. towards Riverdale, for I have business for you to attend to there. You are wasting your talents and the gifts I have so graciously given you. Will you do this for me?" TC quickly bowed his head,"Yes, Greedfather." a moments pause as TC eyed the tables delicacies," may I, so humbly, ask what this job may entail?" "No, you may not, see to it that you leave with haste." " As you wish Greedfather."

TC shot up with a start, his pointer finger and pinky extended in the form needed to launch an Eldritch blast. He was along in his room at the Inn. He mumbled expletives to himself and gathered his things. He would need to steal a riding dog and head south as the Greedfather wished.