Timberborn stands as the magnificent capital city of the continent's territory of Arundel. It is a place of staggering, superficial beauty—a city of soaring towers and blooming flowers that deliberately hides a regime of absolute cruelty and systemic oppression.
As established in the history of the realm, Timberborn is ruled by a greedy and cruel king who views his wealth as something to be hoarded and his borders as something to be bloodily defended. The city's immense prosperity is kept entirely for the elite, while the rest of the land is left to rot.
The skyline of Timberborn is designed to inspire awe in its allies and absolute terror in its enemies. It blends the natural wealth of the surrounding forests with defensive stonework.
The Piercing Skyline: Within the city, gleaming towers crafted from polished stone and incredibly intricate woodwork pierce the sky. These structures are meticulously maintained, adorned with vibrant, flowing banners and lush, cascading floral arrangements that give the impression of a peaceful, thriving paradise.
The Great Barrier: Enclosing this paradise is a colossal, imposing perimeter wall. It is constructed from massive, incredibly thick logs of dark timber, reinforced at key intervals with heavy, jagged stone masonry. This barrier is a physical testament to Timberborn’s massive wealth, but more importantly, it is a monument to the king’s paranoia and fear of the outside world.
The magnificent walls of Timberborn are not built to keep out foreign empires; they are built to keep out their own people.
The Arundel Warrens: Just outside the dark timber walls lies the squalor of the Warrens—a dense, impoverished wasteland where the forgotten subjects of Arundel scrape by under the king's heavy taxes.
The Death Mandate: The separation between the two worlds is absolute and merciless. The mere presence of any inhabitant from the Arundel Warrens within Timberborn’s borders is a capital offense. There are no trials, no mercy, and no second chances for the poor.
To enforce the greedy king's isolationist laws, Timberborn relies on a brutal, highly disciplined city guard. These guards are not protectors of the peace; they are the iron enforcement of the king's cruelty.
They patrol the top of the dark timber walls and the golden streets below with unwavering vigilance. Any outsider caught slipping through the gates or scaling the barriers is immediately hunted down. Under the king's explicit decrees, punishment for entering the capital is swift and horrific—ranging from public executions to unspeakable torture designed to serve as a stern, gruesome deterrent to anyone else starving in the Warrens.
Behind the blooming flowers and the polished stone towers, Timberborn is a golden cage, kept pristine by the blood of the people it abandoned.