Unusual Locations

Where a city stands affects it just as much as how it was built or who occupies it. Presented here are examples of interesting locations for cities, ranging from the mundane but atypical to the truly fantastic.

COASTAL

Not every city built on the coast is a major trading center like Dragonport (see page 14). Some grow from nearby industry or depend on local, land-based trade. Even so, such a city’s daily life and economy depend on the ocean in some way. Fishing is a common livelihood, and the local diet includes not only fi sh and crustaceans, but also seaweed and other aquatic plants.

Coast-dwellers must be ever alert for the spears of sahuagin or the tentacles of kraken, to say nothing of mundane dangers such as pirates. Because of these hazards, the defenses of a coastal city must include naval forces as well as standard infantry. This situation can actually make the city more vulnerable than its landlocked counterparts, because it cannot devote all its defense to an attack from only land or sea.

The climate of a coastal city tends to be temperate: Winds and currents from the ocean keep it cooler in summer and milder in winter than areas farther inland. However, it is vulnerable to ocean storms, floods, and tidal waves, any of which can swamp an entire community. Wise city-builders make use of water breaks and levees, or place structures on higher coastal elevations. Wealthy cities might use magical defenses, such as various permanent wall spells designed to protect against approaching water, or weather-controlling magic to prevent great storms from spawning nearby.

CLIFF FACE

Unlike Cliffside, which grew out from a group of sea side caves, these cities are built into sheer cliffs. Some real-life civilizations have constructed cliff-face dwellings, but in a fantasy setting such communities are usually the homes of avian races such as the raptorans, from Races of the Wild, or the aarakocra of the FORGOTTEN REALMS® campaign setting. Traditional humanoid races might also build such cities, though, for a number of reasons.

The location is eminently defensible, forcing attackers to rappel down or scale the cliff face, all the while vulnerable to archers and magical attack. Even if an enemy reaches the structures, no more than a few attackers can enter at a time. Only with magic or flying troops does an army have any chance of taking a cliff-face city. The city’s altitude puts it above the level of most fl oods, and makes inhabitants vulnerable only to storms moving in from a specifi c direction.

Not every cliff is appropriate for city-building. One must have caves to serve as homes, or at least allow for easy excavation. The dwellings must be interconnected within the cliff, or the inhabitants must build stairs or ladders on external ledges. Ledges are more vulnerable to weather and attack, but cities with ledged cliff faces are more numerous than those without.

Cliff-face communities face economic challenges. Goods must be lowered from or raised to the level of the caves, requiring great feats of magic or engineering. Crops are usually grown at the foot of the cliff or atop the vertical face. As a result, such cities are vulnerable to shortages (both naturally occurring and as the result of a siege many of these communities keep stockpiles of emergency supplies deep within the caves.

DIVIDED CITIES

A divided city might span opposite banks of a river, spill over the top of a cliff into the valley below, or spread across a chain of tiny islands. Whatever its situation, physical, political, and social division has a major effect on the city’s development. People think of themselves as residents of their district first, and then of the city as a whole. Crime rates, fashions, architecture, and decoration might be homogenous throughout the city, or they might vary so much by district that different sections feel totally distinct.

A divided city might develop for any number of reasons. If the soil is more fertile across the river, or the area more defensible from a vantage point on the mountainside, the population might naturally expand in that direction. Alternatively, two neighboring communities might grow into a single city, despite geographic obstacles. A city might also deliberately encompass a particular resource or holy site. Nor is such a city limited to two sections: A fork in a river might split a city in three, a mountainside town might have half a dozen districts at different elevations, and an archipelago city could feature dozens of tiny, independent neighborhoods.

Even if no one section of the city is intended to be richer or more important than the others, its citizens will tend to live where they feel most comfortable. Invariably, one part of a divided city becomes more popular than the others, leading to resentment among the residents of other sectors. In mixed-race cities, the dominant race might occupy the bulk of one highly desirable section, leading to tension with the less privi leged inhabitants. This tension is exacerbated when one section of the city actually is more important than the others. A city built both in a valley and atop a nearby rise can defend only the higher location, to where all the valley-dwellers must evacuate in case of an attack. A city that spans a raging river likely receives more traders and travelers on one side than the other, making the favored section wealthier and more cosmopolitan. In any city of this type, the section with the clear advantage attracts the richest and most influential dwellers, deepening the social and political divide between the districts.

ISLAND CITIES

Even in a low-magic setting, the island city is a perfectly realistic concept. The city’s role and influence depend upon the island’s location, inhabitants, and power center. For example, a metropolis might develop on an island in the middle of an ocean separating two great continents. Such a location would support a city that is both port and trading hub, vital to communication between the land masses.

In settings where magic is more pervasive, a floating ocean city needn’t be on an island at all. The Atlantis model is a classic fantasy trope: an ancient city built by mysterious, advanced peoples that has been recently discovered. Whether it has arisen from centuries beneath the waves, or drifted in from unknown waters, such a fl oating city provides a ready-made context for exploration. On the other hand, if the city has been continuously inhabited for centuries or even millennia, its unique situation will have affected the outlook and social structure of its dwellers.

Other interesting situations could produce a floating city. Consider a Brigadoon-esque scenario, in which the settlement (with or without its original inhabitants) lies under an ancient curse, suddenly appearing or disappearing in an unexpected location.

Ironically, one of the biggest concerns of any island or floating city is water. Seawater is not potable, and even Small humanoids need around 2 pints of water per day to survive, so residents need some source of fresh water. In tropical climates, they might fi ll cisterns with plentiful rainfall or have access to inland streams. Otherwise, the city requires a method of desalination, whether technological or magical.

SKY CITIES

Another classic element of fantasy is the city in the clouds. Many of the features and challenges of island cities are likewise present in sky cities, though such locales tend to exist only in high-magic settings. In addition to other concerns, the residents of any aerial city must consider gravity. Stepping off the edge of an island will usually only result in wetness; stepping off or through a cloud can be downright fatal. Are citizens protected by a persistent magical effect, or do all of them have some way to fly?

Another factor to consider is whether the sky city is mobile. Some such cities move around, either through the will of their residents or an outside force. Perhaps the city’s long-gone creators built in a propulsion mechanism, or the city simply drifts with the winds. A mobile city raises new concerns that affect environmental and social factors, especially its interactions with other communities whose space it enters. Mundane concerns such as the supply of food and water, or waste disposal, also can have unusual solutions in a city that doesn’t stay put. Like other isolated areas, sky cities often have difficulty trading with others. Even when air travel is relatively common, such as in the Eberron setting, making the trip to and from a cloud city is not trivial.

Sky cities have their advantages, though, especially with regard to defense. Being a mile in the air and (if the city is mobile) being able to move away from danger makes such a city diffi cult to capture without an armada of airships or hordes of flying troops.

UNDERGROUND CITIES

Nothing embodies the flavor of the DUNGEONS & DRAGONS game as much as the underground civilization. Within many D&D campaigns, subterranean cities are hardly unusual. Still, building beneath the earth presents a special set of design constraints to city engineers.

Underground cities are inexorably linked to the races that inhabit them, the sun-hating drow being the best known example. Surface-dwelling races might also build cities underground for various reasons. A cataclysmic event, such as an unending storm or a destructive meteor shower, might force a community belowground. Alternatively, explorers might have discovered a valuable subterranean resource, such as a massive lake with potable water and plentiful fi sh, and moved into the cave to exploit the find.

Adequate light, food, and air are the primary needs of an underground city. Unless the inhabitants possess darkvision, they need some form of illumination, and (assuming they are living creatures) they need to eat and breathe. Underground cities face fewer challenges to trade than those in other unusual locations. They also can attack and be attacked more easily, producing classic confl ict situations between surface-dwellers and those who live beneath them.