Drachenburg: Introduction
Perched high in the jagged arms of the North Mountains, Drachenburg is a city-state hewn from cliff-face and legend. Its sheer granite walls and natural battlements have defied every siege for centuries, earning it a reputation as the unbreachable bastion of the north. Austere towers rise like teeth from the rock, their iron-banded windows watching the world below with quiet vigilance. Within, the people of Drachenburg live by principles as enduring as the stone they shape: independence, craftsmanship, and the solemn dignity of self-rule.
Drachenburg has a reputation for neutrality in the wider political landscape of Skybride. This has made Drachenburg the preferred ground for international negotiations, where emissaries from rival nations gather in the Hall of Dragons to speak beneath vaulted ceilings. The Hall, seated at the heart of Mediborough, is the city’s central court, where five elected Lugals—each representing Northborough, Westborough, Eastborough, Southborough, and Mediborough—govern in tense consensus.
Yet beneath the solemn stone lies shadow. Whispers speak of a seedy underbelly—thieves’ guilds that move through the underground, and sealed vaults that prefer to stay shut.
Foundation and Culture of Drachenburg
Long before it became a city-state, it may have been a refuge—a fortress carved into the cliffs by desperate hands fleeing collapse, famine, or some other threat. The mountains offered no mercy, but they offered protection. What began as a last bastion became a cradle of endurance, where survival bred a culture of stoic pride and fierce independence.
Though the city now speaks the Common tongue, its dialect carries the cadence of old Hesan. Linguistic residue lingers in the clipped cadence of Drachenburg speech: final consonants are hardened, vowels narrowed, and compound words favored over borrowed terms. A Drachenburg mason might say steinbind instead of “mortar,” or felszorn for “rockslide”—terms that evoke both precision and poetic severity. Scholars place the city's foundation somewhere around 500 to 800 years ago. Drachenburg was once a pre-imperial culturally Hesan settlement, that has now diverged linguistically and ideologically from the massive Hesan Empire to the city's east.
Craftsmanship is revered, not just as art but as proof of the city project. Stonework, metallurgy, and civic architecture are expressions of civic virtue. The masons of Drachenburg build for permanence.
The Five Boroughs of Drachenburg
@Drachenburg: Mediborough
@Drachenburg: Westborough
@Drachenburg: Southborough
@Drachenburg: Eastborough
@Drachenburg: Northborough
Perched high in the @Trachen Zahne Mountains of Skybride, the Walled City-State of Drachenburg is a fortress nation, bound together by five boroughs, stone and necessity. While the high walls protect them all, the internal divisions are as stark as the cliffs themselves. To walk from the golden gates of the West to the smoking pits of the East is to traverse entirely different worlds, each ruled by its own Lugal, its own laws, and its own gods.
@Drachenburg: Mediborough — The Heart
Current Lugal of Mediborough: @Lugal Imme Beitelg
Situated on the broadest, most stable central plateau of the city, Mediborough is the sanitized face of Drachenburg’s government. It is a district of white granite and sweeping arches, meticulously scrubbed of the soot that plagues the lower levels. While the other boroughs drive the city’s body, Mediborough is its mind.
The skyline here is dominated by the @Drachenburg: Hall of Dragons, the cavernous seat of the Lugal Council. It is an architectural marvel of the old world; a massive, cathedral-like structure crowned with a central dome and flanked by two colossal, stone dragon wings that rise from the earth to cradle the main keep. It is beneath these vaulted ceilings that international treaties are signed and the Lugals meet to debate the fate of the city.
The streets here are wide enough for carriages to pass four abreast, lined with the estates of the old nobility and mercantile elite who prefer the quiet air to the bustle of the markets. It is a place of quiet power, hushed tones, and the scratching of quills, maintained by a heavy patrol of ceremonial guards who wear polished silver rather than the grey steel of the trenches.
@Drachenburg: Westborough — The Gilded Facet
Current Lugal of Westborough: @Lugal Amanda Valck
If Drachenburg has a face it shows the world, it is Westborough. It is here that the @Drachenburg Pass terminates at the @Drachenburg: West City Gate, also called by locals as "Coin Gate", welcoming foreign dignitaries and merchant caravans into a world of sensory overload.
The streets are paved with imported white stone. It is a vertical maze of open-air loggias, delicate stone bridges, and timber-framed mansions that lean precariously over the streets. The architecture serves a purpose: to intimidate with beauty.
At the heart of the district lies @Westborough, Drachenburg: The Sovereign Exchange, a fortress of finance where the city’s true power resides—neutrality. Here, wars are funded, and peace is purchased. Just down the avenue, tucked against the massive western defensive wall, is @Westborough, Drachenburg: The Heralds’ Row, a gilded cage for foreign ambassadors where international intrigue plays out in manicured gardens. The wealth here is staggering; even the horses at @Westborough, Drachenburg: Stables live in mahogany stalls better than most citizens' homes. Westborough is also the seat of @Westborough, Drachenburg: Halion Kathedron, the only cathedral to Halion the Bound in Skybride.
@Drachenburg: Southborough — The Root
Current Lugal of Southborough: @Lugal Silas Gunt
To descend into Southborough is to drop from the palace to the gutter. Located among the original foundations of Drachenburg, this is the most populous and chaotic district, with narrow alleys. Southborough is the city’s digestive system. It is dirty, loud, and vibrantly alive.
The architecture here is desperate and organic. Buildings are piled atop one another, creating "The Stacks"—teetering towers of scavenged wood atop old stone, these structures sometimes block out the sun. The streets are a muddy labyrinth dominated by @Southborough, Drachenburg: The Beggar's Bazaar, a shifting market where stolen goods and contraband are sold openly.
Yet, there is order in the filth. The Iron Web, Gunt’s syndicate of "sanitation workers" and thieves, runs the district with absolute efficiency. From the fortress-like @Southborough, Drachenburg: Sanitation building, they ensure the sewers flow and the rats die. Beneath the streets lies @Southborough, Drachenburg: The Sump, an ancient cistern turned gambling den where men play "Dead Man's Dice" for their freedom. Southborough is the city’s grimy engine; it is where the cheap ale flows, the music never stops, and everything—including life—is negotiable.
@Drachenburg: Eastborough — The Anvil
Current Lugal of Eastborough: @Lugal Torsten Hrolf
This is the industrial heart of the city, a district defined by the rhythmic thump-hiss of steam hammers and the taste of sulfur. Eastborough is a machine designed to turn mountain into alloy.
The skyline is dominated by @Eastborough, Drachenburg: The Wyrmhearth, a sprawling complex of brick smelters and stone smithies clustered around the "Wyrm’s Throat," a blast furnace that vents a pillar of fire into the sky day and night. The heat here is oppressive, melting the snow before it hits the soot-stained rooftops.
But industry here is also defense. The foundries are built against the eastern walls, designed to tip their crucibles and flood the streets with molten slag in the event of a breach. Downwind lies @Eastborough, Drachenburg: The Flayed Quarter, a terrifying landscape of colored dye vats and stretched hides where the city’s leather is cured in chemical pools. Eastborough is a hard place for hard people; the residents here are scarred by burns and stained by dyes, proud of their role as the shield and hammer of the state.
@Drachenburg: Northborough — The Iron Crown
Current Lugal of Northborough: @Lugal Mathis Droste
This is the military district. The air in Northborough is thin and bites with frost. The architecture strips away all ornamentation; it is brutalist, grey granite, designed to withstand siege engines and centuries of winter storms.
Life here is governed by the "Old Law," of pre-imperial Hesa: tough but fair. The streets are wide and empty, save for the drilling patrols of the Stone Guard. At the peak stands @Northborough, Drachenburg: Trachenwacht (The Dragon Watch), the austere fortress-monastery that serves as the city’s military command. Nearby, the recruits of @Northborough, Drachenburg: Iron-Root Bastion endure grueling training with heavy plate and battering rams, learning to become immovable objects.
Northborough is not cruel, but it is unyielding. Its justice is visible in @Drachenburg: Prison, a prison built over a sheer cliff edge where traitors are left exposed to the howling winds and the screams of @Frostmaw Wyverns. To the people of Northborough, the other districts are soft; they alone stand on the wall, watching the snow-blind passes for threats.
Organization: The Iron Web
To the nobility of Westborough, the Iron Web is a rumor—a boogeyman used to explain why property crime is oddly low and why the sewers never clog. To the people of Southborough, it is the only law that matters. The Web is not a traditional thieves' guild; it is a sprawling, decentralized syndicate that has woven itself into the city's essential infrastructure. Led by Lugal Silas "The Mole" Gunt, the organization controls the "unseen flow" of Drachenburg: waste management, subterranean maintenance, smuggling, and information.
Their structure mimics the city’s sanitation system. The "Surface Runners" (beggars, street urchins, and peddlers) act as the eyes and ears, gathering secrets like loose coin. The "Pipe-Walkers" are the muscle—hardened smugglers and laborers who control the tunnels and enforce the Web’s territorial claims. At the center sits the "Cistern," a council of lieutenants who report directly to Silas.
The Web operates on a philosophy of "Symbiotic Parasitism." They do not strangle the host; they keep Drachenburg healthy so they can feed. They suppress violent crime because it brings unwanted guards. They repair the city’s foundations because a collapsed tunnel helps no one. In exchange, they exact a heavy, silent tithe on all illicit trade. If you want to move contraband, you pay the Web. If you refuse, you don't get arrested—you just disappear, likely to be found clogging a grate in the Vinster Walt weeks later. They are the rust on the iron, inevitable and enduring.