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Rhone appears to be coterminous and/or synonymous with the Plateau of Rendarak, suggesting this is the predominant geographical feature of the realm. That's certainly supported by the geography - it's ringed by high mountains, so high that in the game it can only be reached through a complex system of caves winding up the mountains to the south. I'd likely add other means to access Rhone for a more open-ended campaign, but the Road to Rhone, as it's been dubbed, is infamously a long, circuitous maze-like dungeon, with corridors that loop back on each other and pits that force players to backtrack from a lower floor. In a video game, this is tiresome and frustrating, but it would be easy to translate to a megadungeon if one was so inclined. Thanks to the pits, it's even Jacquayed! Check out the maps at Dragon's Den for an in-depth explanation.
The Plateau itself, notably, is the only snowy area in the game (and, indeed, in the entire Erdrick Trilogy), likely due to its position high in the mountains. We can then surmise that Rendarak is a high tableland, and the elevation leaves it notably colder than the lowlands at its feet. Perhaps it would look something like the Tibetan Plateau in terms of geography and climate, or at least parts of it would. Since there are no other areas with such wintery terrain, it's reasonable to assume that the Plateau of Rendarak is the highest point of Torland.
And with that in mind, we must confront the implications this has on the metaphysics of our setting. On a conventional globe, it makes sense that a high-altitude tableland would be so cold, as the atmosphere is thinner the higher off the ground you get, and thus doesn't distribute heat as well. But remember, we're working off the conceit that, since Alefgard is accessed through a pit in Dragon Quest III and the Trilogy consistently shows it to have no day-night cycle, Torland is located on the hollow interior of the planet, with a central inner sun. If this sun works the way ours does, you'd expect that it would be warmer at high elevations, since these would be closer to the innermost part of the planet, and thus the sun.
In order for Rhone to make sense, we must assume that the inner sun gives off light, but not heat - which makes sense, because it seems to be connected in some way to the Sphere of Light. Furthermore, the physics of Torland don't appear to work by conventional means, as in DQ3 it's shown to be capable of supporting life and vegetation even when it has no sun at all. Torlandic physics, then, may simply hold that plants are capable of growing without photosynthesis and higher altitudes are colder just because.
Look, it's a pulpy sword and sorcery setting. Scientific accuracy takes a backseat to what makes for fantastic adventure.
With all that out of the way, I'd like to address the sociological and political situation in Rhone, because that is also quite interesting. In later Dragon Quest games, and much of the broader canon of Japanese fantasy they inspired, "monsters" are something of a race, or a category of races; despite their heterogenous appearances and abilities, they all share a vaguely-defined nature, and are uniformly aligned with the game's villain. They seem to be contrasted in this way against humans, who are almost always on the side of good - criminals tend to be background characters or roguish antiheroes. This is quite different from D&D, where the idea of a "monster" does not exist outside of game mechanics, and there is not much in common between, say, a skeleton and a gryphon.But this distinction does not appear to be present in the Erdrick Trilogy - we don't really see the idea of monsters as a monolith come up in the games themselves until IV. And Hargon's forces seem to consist mainly of humans. Many of DQ2's enemies, and almost all of those who are explicitly tied to Hargon's cult, are various forms of cultists and magicians. Furthermore, Rhone is far more civilized than you'd expect from a land of monsters. Hargon has a castle, and there's a temple there staffed by a human priest that functions much like the temples in towns. Consider also that the plot of DQ2 is kicked off when Rhone invades Moonbrooke and destroys its capital. If Rhone is able to wage open war against a powerful kingdom, it must have an army.
To control a cult as large and powerful as his is, Hargon must be a charismatic leader indeed, but I feel like that wouldn't explain all the resources Rhone has at its disposal. What seems more likely to me is that Rhone is, or was, itself a kingdom, but was usurped and taken control of by the Children of Hargon. Hargon is, then, a political leader, not just a spiritual one.
If one wishes to run a more gritty and realistic take on the setting, Rhone would likely have legitimate grievances that the Children of Hargon looked like a solution to. An entire country wouldn't start openly serving a world-devouring god that easily (there are some hilarious jokes I could be making right now, but I don't discuss real-world politics on this blog). And I think there's something we could look at with the fact that Moonbrooke is Rhone's first target.
It could just be a matter of proximity, since Moonbrooke is directly to the north of Rhone. But there may have been some existing tension between the two kingdoms. Given Rhone's more inhospitable climate and inaccessibility, it's likely it wouldn't have been as rich, fertile, or influential as its northern neighbor. The Rhonesmen may have been Moonbrooker vassals at some point in history, and this could have led to resentment among the populace, who felt they were forced to answer to foreign crowns (especially considering that the ruling house of Moonbrooke is of Alefgardic and Aliahanian descent, not anything native to the region). Hargon offered the people the possibility of self-determination and independence - a chance to be powerful enough to throw off the yoke of Ortegid oppression. And that made his ultimate goal of summoning Malroth an easier pill to swallow. Since my Moonbrooke is based on Sweden, I think it works quite nicely to have Rhone culturally analogous to Finland in this scenario, fitting the terrain and the fact that they're neighbors of the Ortegid kingdoms but lack a common heritage.
I'm not doing this to pull a Wicked and portray Hargon as a misunderstood well-intentioned extremist. He still wants to summon a god of destruction to destroy existence as we know it. But he needed a base of power in order to do so, and - as cult leaders are wont to do - he could tell the people what they wanted to hear so that they would give that power to him.
A final note on Hargon: he has blue skin and fangs, and this is never really explained. The game never gives any indication as to what he is. For that reason, I would run him as a tiefling. The proper tieflings with non-standardized appearances and randomized demonic traits, thank you very much. I'm very much a proponent that demons in general should be Boschian creatures of chaos that come in all shapes and sizes, with no two being alike. That should go for tieflings too.
This concept opens up some fun prospects for campaigns. If Hargon was holding the people of Rhone together, we are presented with the question of what would happen after his death at the end of DQ2. There would be a power vacuum, and all manner of factions would have reasons to get involved. Who is next in line to lead the Children of Hargon - and would they really believe in the cult's dogma, or merely go through the motions as a way to hold power over the people already in its thrall? If the latter, is this motivated by self-interest, or a genuine desire to uplift the people of Rhone through the only means anyone knows how? Would a resurgent Moonbrooke set its sights again on Rhone, especially after it nearly brought the kingdom to its end? What do the Rhonesmen think of that? There's a lot of fascinating questions here, just begging to throw the PCs into head-first.
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Art by John Hodgson |
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Art by Scott Pelico |
So this is probably the single nerdiest thing I've ever done.
The setting for The Saga of the Ortegids, extrapolating from the worldbuilding details we get in the first three Dragon Quest games, is a hollow planet, with Erdland (the world map of Dragon Quest III) on the outside, and Torland (that of Dragon Quest II, which includes that of I) on the inside. Thinking about how both 3 and 2 feature an area where you can obtain a leaf of the Worldtree, I began to ponder how exactly the maps would line up if modeled on a three-dimensional sphere.
So I got a free trial of SketchUp and did exactly that. Look under the cut for more.
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Art by DylanvdLinde |
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Art by Einar Martinsen |
Dirkandor is a large island to the south of Lorasia. The only site of interest we see in-game is the capital city, which I am calling Osterfair after the name used for the location in the original English NES release. The dominant feature of Osterfair is its large colosseum, where the King has a box to observe the games. The game refers to this as both a colosseum and a castle, but there don't appear to be any living quarters or rooms besides the arena depicted. If we assume this design is merely a matter of gameplay convenience, the King's personal residence must be elsewhere, though it's possible that he has a palace connected to the arena, as several Roman emperors did with the Circus Maximus.
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Art by Travis Lacey |
We don't see much of Dirkandor beyond its capital, but there are some inferences that can be made from the geography. The island is surrounded by high cliffs and rocky shoals, and the only safe entrance is through a central bay. It's not exactly the most appealing location for trade, even with the lands of the former Ortegid Empire to the north. Considering the island's size, the kingdom probably grows enough of its own food to sustain itself. Combine this with the fact the people are bloodthirsty enough for their main claim to fame to be an arena, and I can see a martial culture taking hold in Dirkandor. The rough terrain and isolation could give rise to a spartan ethic where the people are used to relative scarcity, and this tempers their attitudes toward pursuing strength in battle and succeeding by exerting power over others in their way. The strong are the ones who can claim the resources for themselves.
In fact, I'd like to note that Dirkandor's terrain makes it very defensible. The harbor is the only reliable entrance, and even from there the route to the capital is blocked by mountains. If we assume that northeast Torland was once the domain of sea raiders, I can see Dirkandor being a natural citadel from which raids could be launched without fear of retribution. The first kings of Dirkandor were likely powerful jarls lucky enough to claim the territory as their own and exert their power from there. If they were used to a life of fighting and raiding, and if this was a mark of status for them, this could well explain where their martial culture came from.
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Art by Jihyun Kim |
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Art by Marc Mons |
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Art by Peter Jackson (Still not that one) |
While on the road, the PCs come upon an abandoned cart on the side of the road, carrying a large barrel filled with a fine black dust with a strong sulfurous odor. A DC 10 Arcana or Nature check will determine that the barrel is full of gunpowder; a character who has served in a military setting in which gunpowder weapons were used will know this automatically. The barrel was being transported to a military camp to refuel their cannon, but was lost along the way, and now sits unclaimed. If you're concerned that the players might think the army will return to the barrel in the immediate future, you can put some skeletons dressed in armor around the cart, making it clear that whoever was guarding it have long been slain.
The idea here is to leave the PCs with a large explosive device on their hands - a setup ripe for mayhem, as many a DM would know. There are many situations an adventurer might get into where having access to an improvised bomb is an appealing thought. However, there are a number of logistical difficulties to this as well. The barrel weighs 80 pounds and must be transported by a horse or other Large-sized creature, or by two Medium-sized creatures pulling the cart. It's also quite cumbersome and may be hard to get through narrow passages, though enterprising players might see potential in rolling it down hallways, ramps, or staircases.
If a fuse is attached to the barrel and lit, it will explode in one round. Any creature in a 20-foot radius of the barrel must make a DC 12 Dexterity saving throw or take 8d8 fire damage, taking half damage on a failed save. The explosion could also be used to blast through rocks, potentially bypassing obstacles or creating an avalanche.
Alternatively, this much gunpowder would draw a substantial price at any marketplace. The barrel can be sold for 3000 GP, or 5000 GP to a particularly invested buyer, such as an alchemist or a rival commander (be they a bandit or a leader of another army). However, if the PCs go around toting a large barrel of gunpowder everywhere, they may attract suspicion, and the army that owned it in the first place may want it back. If the PCs sold it to a rival power, that might land them in even bigger trouble. And if something could kill even an army detachment with a barrel of gunpowder on their hands, that could pose a problem if it's still in the area...
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Art by JamesRPGArt |
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Art by Gustavo Cabral |