The Districts of Zelatar
The Triple Realm, as intricately connected through portals as it is, still fundamentally consists of three distinct Abyssal Realms. Powerful dimensional magic allows Zelatar to exist on these three Layers simultaneously, yet each Layer of Azzagrat shifts Zelatar to its own distorted echo, forming distinct districts that encapsulate the respective Layers (Fogtown, Gellenghast and Darkflame).
Fogtown, situated in the 45th Layer of
The Abyss, is characterised by the humid air, the ever-present layer of mist, and the abundance of alien flora. The city overlooks the sights of the plane's immense forests from a cliffside that the River of Salt cascades down. In the 45th Layer of Rauwend, the dense forest canopy blocks not just light but also shrouds the realm in a dull greyness that makes memory blend into nothingness. Most of Fogtown sits above this canopy, though as I approached the outskirts, my memory became clouded, faces blurred together, and I couldn't recall much. I can only imagine it to be perfect for clandestine meetings and dealings, all the easier when you cannot remember what the other party looks like, I assume. It is also here where the mongrelfolk, and other abhorrent fiends lurk.
Gellenghast is by far the largest of Zelatar’s three neighbourhoods, packed with the villas of demonic nobles, lustful casinos and lustier bordellos, and bazaars with wares from every corner of the universe. it should be noted that Gellenghast sits in the Abyssal Layer of Barogûnd, more commonly referred to as Shadowsky, an apt name to be sure. The sky here is constantly unlight, a blank void that goes on forever. No stars, no sun, no moon. But the ground glows with an inner incandescence, and when cracked, the earth gives way to pillars of light. As such, the city is lit by absent paving stones, which allow the earth-light to blast upward, often into complex arrays of mirrors that amplify the light and cast the streets in it.
The blue sun of Voorzt always hovers ominouisly over the district of Darkflame. It is a haven for those who do not wish to be found. Graz’zt houses many of his deadliest assassins and agents within the district. All maintain deep cover identities that mask their true natures from even their closest neighbours.
Merchants
If you wish to survive in Zelatar, I recommend you come to it as a merchant. I say this for, by the Dark Prince’s personal decree, any merchant bearing his six-fingered sign is protected from violence by any inhabitant of the city (unless of course, they commits a crime such as assault, fraud, or some other violation of the edict). Those who intend to do harm to merchants within Azzagrat are quickly dealt with, being reprimanded or eaten by the citizens. That one law sowed the seeds that grew the city into one known throughout the planes, cementing it as The City Of Vices Imaginable and Unimaginable.
The Ugly
One of most striking curiosities of Zelatar is that everyone in it is strikingly beautiful. To be ugly or visibly aged is like walking naked in a mortal city. You get strange looks, which leads to unwanted attention, which in Zelatar, leads to profound danger. This vain desire for beauty has made for a thriving market of things called "Masks Of The Fair" - the still sentient disembodied face of a beautiful
Elf, that you wear over your own face to blend in with the crowds. Others cover their faces with veils or hide in the shadows. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule of beauty, the repugnant have their place too in the dark prince’s city.
Currency
Though it is an extraplanar hub where countless trinkets and services are bought and sold, it mustn’t be forgotten that the coin of mortals is worthless to demonkind. The true currency of Zelatar: souls, information, favours, time to possess a mortal body, and names are the only things of true value. Be wary when giving any of these things away freely. Zelatari transactions are often made as part of intense wagers or gambles, with stakes that can end lives, or even shake the entirety of the lower planes. One of the most commonly accepted currencies in Zelatar here are gems backed by mortal souls, minted in the Crawling City, passing hands as if it were no different from any mundane coin.
Yamneeritch
Yet despite the beauty of the verdant plaza, I was only focussing on what marred it. Squatting on the ground were a group of half-naked creatures, begging for help. Their bones pierced through their skin and twisted as if some kind of weeds were choking the life from their bodies. They were harrowing creatures. A group of tieflings that were enjoying the bird-calls and the topiaries strolled them and didn't even give them a passing glance.
They were what became of those who partook in Yamneeritch. Of all the narcotics in Zelatar, it is the by far the most horrific, warping both body and mind. Hassan told me its effects with disgust on his face. It paralyzes the one who consumes the drug, but gives them vivid hallucinations, igniting their mind like a dwarven candle. The daydreams and hallucinations you get from taking this drug are extremely pleasant, evoking feelings of childhood glee, even if the user has never felt that feeling in the waking world.
Abuse of Yamneeritch takes a great toll. To the mind, well, they say that the brightest flame burns out quickly. The same for yamneeritch. The mind burns itself to cinders, leaving nothing but a dour shadow of the user's former self. And to the body, the bones of a user grow and branch out like a tree, eventually protruding from the body and twisting around their form. Meanwhile, their flesh is eaten away, until they are thin and meatless, kept alive only by yamneeritch. Eventually, they collapse in on themselves, emerging from the mass as a soul larvae.
The Locals
The majority of the city’s inhabitants are of demonic origin, naturally. Namely, Alu-fiends, Cambions, Nabassu, Shadow Demons, Succubi/Incubi, and Tieflings call Zelatar home, though a handful of elven families are also prominent. Their days are spent caught up in lustful romances, gambling, eating delicious food, creating beautiful works of art, or if they have a more "refined" palette, torturing mortal slaves, if that's their fancy, no one would judge here; the nights are spent in the brothels and casinos in a drug-induced bliss. Graz’zt’s realm is open to visitors, so brave merchants of all species, sizes, and shapes also can be found in this major Abyssal commerce centre.
The Chosen Few
The city’s sizable
Tiefling population are the descendants of mortal worshippers that were chosen by Graz’zt. Even to this day, The Chosen are granted a gift by Him called The Abyssal Seed, a crystalline lotus which is planted inside them. After a few decades of gradual transformation, the chosen and all their descendants fully become Abyssal Tieflings. They have lilac, iridescent skin that shine silver, green, or gold, and often have six-fingers. Within Zelatar society, they are high within the echelons of what can be classified as a society in Zelatar.
The Repugnant
As I have alluded, the repugnant have their place in this city that prides beauty and pleasure above all else. And in a place where all desires imaginable and unimaginable can be satiated, boredom sometimes creeps on the Chosen who have lived here for too long. In a place such as this, where the beauty of all kinds is bountiful, there’s nowhere to go but down—down, down, down—down into
The Abyss of relative beauties, until they reach the bottom. These people flock to the outskirts of Zelatar, willfully taking grotesque forms through magic or mutilation. Others prefer doing the same to others, to make something beautiful into something ugly - picturesque maidens left to literally rot away, sometimes even becoming the corpse brides of the Repugnant.
The Hunters
As stated by Graz’zt’s Edict, those who intend to do harm to merchants within Azzagrat were effectively marked, to be punished as seen fit, or more likely, to just be devoured. Though there is no law preventing the citizens from doing this to any other citizen, the enemies one makes from this is less than desired. But with free reign to succumb to their destructive urges, a large percentage of demonic residents of the city take up the hunt.
One of the more prolific of these hunters is the Ironclad Hunter, a mythic figure that wears heavy segmented plate armour. As many things in the Dark Prince’s realm, the Ironclad Hunter origin’s is the centre of many of conflicting, clashing theories. Some think it to be a remnant of the infernal army when the prince invaded
The Abyss, who remains loyal even after his betrayal. Others tell a story of an elven paladin named Alistair, led astray by a talking cat, who compelled the holy warrior into committing unspeakable acts. Corrupted into the form of a death knight, he cemented his allegiance towards the Dark Prince, becoming an enforcer of sorts.
Telling of an appearance of Graz’zt
My dear friend continued to illuminate me of the city, eventually leading me to a large plaza where thousands of figures gathered around a stage. Every seventy-seven days, Hassan told me, the Dark Prince would pick out someone to join his harem of hundreds. The crowds had come to see the Prince for themselves. As He emerged from behind the stage, I saw Him in all his resplendent and terrible glory. To say the dark prince is beautiful is an understatement. The sight of him had brought me to tears and made my knees buckle. His skins glowed like polished obsidian, and the glow of his eyes suggested lust and danger in equal amounts. At his sides, his marilith bodyguards stood watch, looking over the crowds with disdain.
The whole event passed by in what felt like an instant. He was gone, and I felt an immediate need to see Him once again. I then understood why the crowds had gathered in such high numbers. He has that effect on you too, I see, Hassan said, itching at his skin.
The Dark Prince Graz'zt is something of an anomaly amongst the princes of
The Abyss. While most possess some degree of cleverness, at the end of the day they will use brute force to get what they want. Not so much in Graz'zt's case. He is skilled in the ways of seduction, guile, politics and plotting in ways that go beyond the abilities of even most archdevils. Some have suggested that this is because Graz'zt is an exiled devil, or even fallen angel or god. Through genius and cunning, Graz'zt has managed to keep a tight hold over his empire, despite suffering massive losses against his foes Demogorgon and Orcus.
Politics
Graz’zt holds absolute power in all three layers of Azzagrat, and this is no more apparent than in Zelatar. From anywhere in the city, his Argent Palace looms over all, a beacon to the Dark Prince’s iron fist. As I gazed at the place, I found it almost incomprehensible and scale and dimensions. No one goes near it. It is shunned, even by the city's demonic residents, and those who receive an invitation to the Argent Palace are rarely ever heard from again.
Graz’zt rules through a combination of fear, political manipulation, and cunning intelligence. The inhabitants of The Triple Realm obey the will of Prince Graz’zt because their fortunes rise with his, and because he has shown a willingness to eliminate any disloyal inhabitants, usually sooner rather than later.
Travel
Graz’zt’s magnificent capital crosses the borders into all three layers of Azzagrat. Great avenue-sized portals that remain open continuously link these three geographically disparate layers of
The Abyss. Zelatar’s streets wind and weave in a thoroughly perplexing manner that sometimes defies the laws of reality. Until someone has lived in the city for a year or more, one must rely upon a guide to find his way from one part of town to another.
The Blood River
A putrid river of blood courses through the city of Zelatar, carrying cargo boats from the outskirts of the Triple Realm and gondolas across the mass of coagulating fluid. Zelatari citizens make use of boats, barges, and rafts as their main thoroughfare for trade and transit through the city. Any creature unfortunate enough to fall into the river is dragged under by the endless flow of thick, red blood.
The Oven Gates
Common features throughout the entirety of Azzagrat, the Oven Gates appear to be arches filled with scalding green flames that lick hungrily at the stonework they sit in. They function as a method of instantaneous travel throughout the realm, allowing movement to all across the Triple Realm, provided you can withstand the flames, that it. While most are no larger than the size of a carriage, each district of Zelatar bears two avenue-sized Grand Gates, leading to the other two districts.
Comments