Swansong

Swansong is found in Redgate, nestled at the base of a towering cliff. A large lake forms a half-circle around it and spans more than 4 miles in diameter.  The town itself rests on an 'island' which butts against the cliff between two soft waterfalls which roll down on either side. Rings of wharfs surround the island with shanties and cabins having been constructed between them as the population has expanded.
The buildings on the island itself are beyond luxurious and lavish. Swansong survives by mining a seemingly endless supply of diamonds in the cliffside, creating a class of ultra-wealthy aristocrats who live on the island itself. The outer rings, by contrast, are floating slums where the labourers live.
A number of docks exist on the shore of the lake, spread out in various directions, which transport mostly goods and sometimes people to and from the town in massive swan shaped ferries. The town employs a small army to run and protect the ferries, to police the town, lake and mines and to prevent the labourers from fleeing.
The mines themselves are cut directly into the cliff and are worked day and night. Barrels of diamond slivers are rolled out every day to be cut and sold across the continent and across the seas. The overseers have strict orders to only explore new tunnels going up the cliffside, never down.  However, in recent years, as the mine entrances have neared the halfway point up the cliff, the density of gem veins (while still plentiful) has been diminishing. Some more rebellious mine owners have begun ilegally digging below the water-line in the hopes of stuffing their coffers even fuller.
Engineers have cut into the rock and constructed massive wheels at the base of each waterfall. These wheels serve to collect the majority of the water into stilted reservoirs and to power the lifts which give the labourers access to the mines and evacuate the tons of rock and diamonds. The reservoirs provide clean water to those lucky enough to live on the island. Those who live in the outer rings (sometimes called "floaters" or "ringworms") drink and bathe with water taken directly from the lake. The ring-dwellers swear that the water tastes odd and is the cause of numerous physical defects and regular fits of psychosis. The aristocrats claim it is merely a matter of poor breeding as they sip tea brewed with water straight from the falls.

Demographics

Two classes exist : The ultra-rich mine owners who live on land The coerced, impoverished labourers who live in the rings

Government

The town is run by a council of mine owners with the greatest power being held by those with the most prosperous mines. Generally, titles and deeds are passed down within the family making every inheritance a wicked, often bloody, ordeal.

Defences

A large, mercenary army defends the town from within and without.  The natural defences provided by the lake and the cliff ensure a great deal of security.

Industry & Trade

Swansong thrives exclusively on exporting diamonds.

History

Near the end of the last age as the final war was raging, one holy lord, forseeing the end well before most others, began to amass a large following with his fatalistic acceptance that the Darkness would soon dominate the world. This lord became known as Aos' Bard, transforming his sermons into song and prose, hoping by doing so, his teachings would outlive the fall of Light and serve the faithful who survived. Among those who flocked to him were druids from one of Sybeile's fading orders. Fully embracing the Bard's philosophy, they begain sculpting the land to create a natural and magical vault for the knowledge of the Light. Followers of the Bard, scrounged the ruins of war from north to south and east to west, risking their lives to bring relics, writings and monuments deep into the vaults which they knew would likely also be their own tomb.
With the forces of Light shattered and scattered across the land, the Darkness loomed on the shores the druids had crafted to protect the vault. Dark forces gathered and necromancers, demons and black clerics launched assaults against the magical barrier which pulsed around the island at the heart of the lake. Within, priests and druids toiled, chanted and bled together to maintain it as others scrambled to conserve and haul the last of the artifacts in the vaults. 
Unable to breach the shield, the dark wizards across the lake divided their army of ghouls in two. One half was sacrificed in a mass ritual, cursed and choking on their own melting insides. The other half was commanded to eat. The faithful on the island knew not what was happening, but did not doubt the end was near when they heard the anguished wails of the ghouls, tormented and forced to consume their flailing and dying brothers against their will.  Stalwart, Aos' Bard ordered work to continue through the moonless night, no one able to witness the hundreds of remaining, overfed ghouls slowly splash into the water to flounder and die on the floor of the lake by sunrise.
The effects of the poison were slow to manifest themselves and so, half those on the island had woken to wash their faces and gulp down the cool water before the first of them began to snicker and admire the claws and hooks that had begun to grow out of their fingers and forearms. They cackled and sang twisted, perverted parodies of the Bard's songs as they wreaked murderous havoc throughout the encampment. In a coordinated attack, the forces outside pummeled the barrier in unison as those maintaining it were slaughtered. A crack, a pop and a deafening roar followed. Those still alive, poisoned or not, were ripped to shreds by the implosion. As the mist cleared, the once pristine cliff was pocked with holes, large and small and the island was littered with bodies, torn apart by countless, shining daggers - now settled deep inside the cliff.
The few who had been within the vaults began setting the seals. Those without begain coaxing the tattered dead faithful back life, sending them into the vaults to hunt the survivors and the artifacts. Still today, the ring-dwellers tell stories of sightings : unholy creatures with blades and hooks protruding from their arms and hand, rotted flesh in ribbons. Someone who knew their purpose might suppose that if the creatures are still hunting, they must not have found their prey. Is it conceivable taht there are still survivors - their descendants - within the vaults? Or at the very least, are there still artifacts from the previous age which they have not yet found?

Type

Town