Alefgard

The Kingdom of Alefgard is the only location to make an appearance in all three games of the original Dragon Quest trilogy. Thus, it's a natural place to begin our exploration of Torland for The Saga of the Ortegids. The entirety of Dragon Quest I and the latter third of Dragon Quest III take place within its borders - using the same map, in fact. This was apparently a big reveal when the games first came out, one that was completely lost on me because I played III first as a kid. Furthermore, while Dragon Quest II's map covers the whole of Torland, Alefgard is present on it, and several of the locations from the first game can be visited.

In the second game, the map of Alefgard is shrunken and many locations have been dropped in order to make it fit into the larger map of Torland. I feel like there is no greater proof than this that the maps we see in the games are simplified representations of the actual in-universe land masses. If the worlds were real, there would surely be many more towns, dungeons, and points of interest than we can visit in the games; we're just seeing a zoomed-out version of the map that only has the highlights included. The Alefgard we see in DQ2, then, is merely a further zoomed-out version of the Alefgard of 1 and 3. However, because two of the three entries in the trilogy limited their scope to Alefgard, our gazetteer of it can afford to be more detailed and granular than that of any other region, and it has the most discrete locations of all of them - though we should remember that this too is a simplification.

Alefgard is a small continent located in northwestern Torland, in between its two main continents. Conveniently, the world map in 2 is the exact same size as the Erdland map in 3, which makes sense if we interpret these maps as representing both sides of a hollow planet. Thus, we can assume the Alefgard in DQ2 is in scale to the map of Erdland, while the version in 1 and 3 is comparatively zoomed in. If that's the case, then Alefgard is roughly the same size as the Worldforest. If you wanted to compare the map of Erdland to Earth, we could hypothesize that Alefgard is about the size of Krasnoyarsk Krai, but we have no reason to believe that Erdland is as big as Earth, and I think the degree of interconnection we see there would support a smaller planet.

Culturally, there seems to be a vaguely Norse theme to Alefgard, and to Torland as a whole. The name recalls Norse realms like Midgard and Asgard, and characters from there often have Scandinavian names like Lars. Visually, Alefgard, like most places in the Erdrick Trilogy regardless of geographical inspiration, has usually been depicted as generically medieval European - sometimes you'll see a horned helmet, but then, those were everywhere in 80s fantasy art. I feel like a tabletop take on the kingdom could draw more from Nordic sources, but I'd probably lean toward the post-Viking era, as there doesn't seem to be a strong raiding or seafaring culture in Alefgard.

Alefgard's greatest treasure is the Sphere of Light, given to Erdrick by the Queen of Dragons, and then passed on to the royal family, where it has been guarded for generations. The Sphere seems to have a non-specifically beneficial effect on the kingdom, blessing it with fertile harvests and protecting its people from monsters. DQ3 reveals that Torland is located on the inside of a hollow world, and for most of that game Alefgard is shrouded in darkness until the Sphere is used against Zoma. It's possible, then, that the role of the Sphere of Light is to somehow control the Inner Sun. There's still vegetation in Alefgard in DQ3, so clearly sunlight isn't needed to grow crops in Torland (maybe it runs on Mythic Underworld logic), but it's possible the Inner Sun is centered directly above Alefgard, and it may provide more direct effects on its land. While most of Torland is in a state of perpetual twilight, never getting dark enough to restrict vision, Alefgard in particular might be constantly at midday. Funnily enough, like Scandinavia in the summer.

Towns in Alefgard include:

• Tantegel: The capital. Site of the royal palace.
• Brecconary: A mercantile center located just east of Tantegel. This town only exists in the NES release of DQ1, in which Tantegel consists entirely of the palace; in subsequent releases, the two are combined into a single location. Still, it gives us another location to work with - and there is plenty of historical precedent for a state having separate administrative and financial capitals. They may even be separate but contiguous settlements - compare Westminster versus the City of London.
• Galenholm: A port town located in the northwest corner of Alefgard. It was founded by a bard named Galen, who owned a magic silver harp, the music of which draws creatures closer. He is buried with the harp in a crypt under the town. Given its position on the coast, close to Lianport and Samartoria, Galenholm is likely an important trade center for Alefgard.
• Kol: A rustic woodland village in the northeast of Alefgard. It holds a natural spring, and at the time of DQ3 the town blacksmith was an emigrant from Zipangu who fled after his wife was set to be sacrificed to the Orochi. He knows the secret to working orichalum.
• Rimuldar: A city located on an island in the southeast of Alefgard, known for its locksmiths. It's separated from the mainland by a tunnel under the sea, which by the time of DQ1 has become the lair of a dragon. Given the city's apparent size and wealth, it's likely that most commerce with the mainland is performed by sea, and the tunnel was likely an aborted project that fell into disrepair. Though we don't see other settlements there, the island is large enough that it could easily support several, so it's probably self-sufficient.
• 
  Hauksness: A trade center in the Domdora Desert, located in the southwest of Alefgard. Originally built around an oasis, but this has dried up by the time of DQ1 and the town is abandoned, save for a single knight guarding a magical suit of armor that once belonged to Erdrick. I like to interpret this as him being part of a lineage of knights tasked with such a job, and even though everyone else has fled the town, he stays, refusing to let the armor fall into the wrong hands. A vein of orichalum is also located nearby.
• Cantlin: A heavily fortified city in the south of Alefgard. In addition to its walls, it's located in a defensible chokepoint surrounded by mountains and swamps, and has a golem that guards the entrance. Likely it is an important redoubt that may have developed from a citadel. Also has an arena.

Dungeons in Alefgard are mostly unremarkable caves, but there are a few sites of interest:

• The Tower of Rubiss: A tower in the northeast of Alefgard where Rubiss, goddess of creation, was imprisoned after being overthrown by Zoma in the God-War, until being freed by Erdrick. Later became home to a hermit in the posession of a staff that could conjure rain.
• The Nailmark: A cave in the north of Alefgard where Zoma was said to have clawed his way into reality, either during the God-War or from being summoned. I just had to talk about that, because the thought that an entire dungeon, with all its traps, denizens, and dangers, is merely the mark a god made on reality with his fingernail is very evocative in a Lovecraftian sense.

The Spell of Embodiment

Art by Lindsey Crummet

Once again, we're discussing the nature of the divine in the Dragon Quest series. There are two separate occasions in the Erdrick Trilogy where we see a ritual performed to summon a divine entity into the physical plane. The first of these occurs at the climax of Dragon Quest II, in which the high priest Hargon performs a ritual to summon Malroth, the god of destruction, and ends up offering his own life in a ritual suicide to complete the ceremony when the party attempts to cut it short. Going next by release order but not chronological order, in Dragon Quest III we see a similar ritual being performed by gathering six magical orbs at the temple of Leiamland to summon the god-bird Ramia.

I don't think that the developers intended for a connection to be drawn between these two rituals. Summoning rituals have always been a trope in fantasy literature, and they make good climactic setpieces, offering both spectacle and a chance to race against time to stop a villain from unleashing a greater threat. But my pattern recognition can't help but find it rather curious that both these rituals are used to summon gods, not demons or other lesser spirits. As such, for The Saga of the Ortegids, I've chosen to interpret these two instances as examples of the same sort of magic, something I'm calling the Spell of Embodiment. This spell is a very powerful one, and may even be the most powerful in existence - through it, a god can be summoned into the mortal plane, and incarnated in physical form.

There's a few implications this has on worldbuilding. I'd like to point out that the existence of spells like these confirm that ritual magic does exist in the world of the original Dragon Quest trilogy. None of the games have ever let the players use similar spells - unlike in Final Fantasy, "summon magic" isn't really something that factors into the Dragon Quest games' mechanics - but we still see them being used in the backstory and by NPCs. We can assume, then, that the spells that exist in this world are not limited to those that can be used by playable characters. This fits with my goal in this project to investigate what setting the Erdrick Trilogy implies when game mechanics are taken out of the equation - we can assume that the spells available to the player are merely a representation of the in-universe magic system, and not what it's limited to. That's how I prefer my magic systems anyway - nothing kills the vibe of magic and mysticism more than locking it to a prescribed list of consistent fixed effects. There are clearly more spells in this world than those an adventurer might cast on the fly, and they may have different effects or means of being cast.

Secondly, the Spell of Embodiment is clearly more demanding than other spells in the setting - which one would hope would be the case if you're summoning something as powerful as a god. Malroth needs a long ritual in order to summon, and is ultimately invoked via human sacrifice, while Ramia is summoned using a set of powerful artifacts. If we are to interpret these rituals as different expressions of the same power, it seems that summoning a god requires a great expenditure of power. Sacrifice might be one way to harness that power, but the orbs might provide an alternative source of the same mystic energy in the right quantities. It does raise the question of where the orbs came from, and why they possess this much power. Given that they're only found in Erdland, I'd like to assume that they were created by the ancient Aliahanian Empire to harness its advanced magics.

Third, as I've discussed before, there seems to be a difference between lesser gods like Aurhea and the priestesses of Leiamland, who can exist on the mortal realm without issue but seem to have much more localized spheres of influence, and greater gods like Malroth and Ramia that must be summoned through complex rituals. Rubiss is a bit of an outlier - in DQ3, you encounter her imprisoned in a tower in Alefgard, apparently fully corporeal - but she was imprisoned there by Zoma, who appears to be a deity of equal power to her. In fact, I'd argue that, under this theory, Zoma was likely summoned through a similar Spell of Embodiment. We know that he isn't originally from Alefgard because one of the dungeons there is said to be where he clawed his way into the physical realm. This could be the result of the Spell, or it could be something that occurred in an earlier war between gods that led to him overcoming and imprisoning Rubiss. If we assume an event like this took place in the setting's past, it might explain why powerful gods are more limited in their ability to directly interface with the mortal plane of existence. They were more liberal with it in the past, but the results were catastrophic.

Having the Spell of Embodiment in a setting could provide some compelling adventure hooks. Perhaps the most obvious is to have a villain who wants to use the Spell to summon their dark master, or maybe a god that they foolishly believe they can control to further their aims. But it could be just as interesting if the PCs have to perform the Spell in order to combat a threat so great that only a god could possibly deal with it. Either way, gathering items powerful enough for the ritual - either so they don't fall into the wrong hands, or to use them onesself - could provide a good structure for a campaign, giving the party a good reason to scour the world and collect treasure. And if you're looking for a tense encounter, you can't go wrong with the party having to defeat the villain before they can unleash a terrible force of destruction on the world.

Erdland Maps

We've come to the end of our journey of analyzing every major location in the overworld of Dragon Quest III for tabletop purposes. Things aren't over yet for The Saga of the Ortegids - we still have two more games to go through - but we now have a picture of Erdland, a historical mashup world grounded equally in history, fantasy, and sword-and-sorcery pulp. To cap this investigation off, I've made a map overlaying the areas in the game with the borders of the different cultural regions I've decided on through my last few posts.

Stay tuned for our look into Torland!

Click here to enlarge

Click here to enlarge

Hanguo

By this point, we've covered every notable location from the overworld of Dragon Quest III. This does not mean we've covered every location in the game - if cramming an expansive open world into an NES carttridge wasn't impressive enough, they crammed two in there. Apparently, the original Japanese release used every single megabyte of storage space on the cartridge, and it shows. But we'll get to that later.

For now, we've explored the implications of the setting and its potential for the tabletop, extrapolating on throwaway pieces of NPC dialogue to construct what is in my opinion a pretty compelling sword and sorcery setting, well suited for hexcrawling - really, DQ3 is in itself a good example of what a hexcrawl campaign could look like. We've in particular highlighted the History's Greatest Hits nature of Erdland, detailing how the setting freely mashes up counterparts of real-world cultures from a variety of different eras to create an effect not dissimilar to the works of Robert E. Howard. It's a world where ancient Rome, medieval Britain, Vedic India, and even the American colonies can coexist at the same time, as though blending together all the parts of history conducive to fantastic swashbuckling adventure.

One culture that's notably absent, however, is China. If you look at the world map, the area between Dharma Abbey and Zipangu is largely wilderness. You can make out the vague approximations of the coastline, but there are no cities or dungeons in that region. There's an inn around where Korea would be, but that's about it. Obviously, if we are to look at the map with the conceit that it is only a representation of the setting necessarily limited by game mechanics rather than a exact diagetic recreation, it would be silly to assume this region truly is uninhabited wilderness. Humans have a habit of settling in places, and the area has open plains and a large central river that could easily support agriculture, perhaps even on the level of the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers. And those patrons at the inn had to get there from somewhere.

I think it's reasonable to assume that there would in fact be a civilization there, perhaps even a large and powerful empire. We just don't visit any of its settlements in the game because none of them had anything important enough to Erdrick's adventures to warrant a stop. For the purposes of The Saga of the Ortegids, I'm going to invent a new empire here, one I'm calling Hanguo.

I have a few factors motivating my train of thought here. For one, I'll admit to finding Chinese history and mythology a deeply fascinating subject that I wish more fantasy would draw from. The wuxia genre alone has some very compelling ideas, tropes, and motifs that go virtually ignored outside the country of origin. But it would also give an explanation for an otherwise incongruous part of the setting.

One aspect of the settings of the Dragon Quest games that I find particularly interesting is the role of martial arts. In DQ3, one of the playable classes is the fighter. In D&D terms, they're actually what would be called a monk - D&D fighters are instead called warriors. They deal more damage than any other class when unarmed and have the best critical hits, but they can only use a minimal selection of weapons and armor. In exchange, some weapon types, like katars, are exclusive to them. In the concept and promotional artwork for 3, they're always drawn in Chinese attire - even in the Western NES manual, they're basically drawn in the same outfits they're wearing in the Japanese art. In later games, there are other characters belonging to this class, with similar abilities, including Alena from Dragon Quest IV, my personal favorite character in the entire series; in addition, martial arts tournaments make appearances here and there. Despite this, these characters and events are more often than not placed in the same medieval European setting as everyone else, and no one seems to find it strange. It's just another fact of the setting that Chinese-influenced martial arts show up right alongside knights and wizards.

I always found the inclusion of monks as a default D&D class strange. To me, the class is so grounded in orientalism that they more often than not seem out of place in a typical medieval European setting. But I've never really minded it in Dragon Quest, probably because it blends into the general mashup of historical and cultural influences, and it instead becomes a charming quirk of the setting - a reminder that this isn't the Middle Ages we're used to. We can make it make more sense in The Saga of the Ortegids if we presume that these martial traditions, and their associated trappings, originated from Hanguo and spread from there.

I don't think martial arts and martial artists would be limited to Hanguo, though. On the contrary, I'd lean into it and have martial arts schools as far west as Portoga. If you can recruit martial artists in Aliahan, either they or their traditions must be well-traveled. Furthermore, there's a grave in the Romalian city of Kazave noted as the resting place of a man who killed a bear with his bare hands - and if you visit at night, his ghost admits that he actually used a set of iron katars, which can be purchased at the town's armory and equipped by fighters. Since we aren't holding ourselves to how things work in the game, this doesn't necessarily mean this man was a martial artist, but I feel like that would be an interesting angle. As I've stated before, one thing I find interesting about the world of DQ3 is that despite the disparate cultural influences of the various regions, everyone seems well-connected to everywhere else, and they're equals in terms of technology and socio-political influence, causing everything to become somewhat of a melange. Having kung fu practitioners in the equivalent of Europe is certainly consistent with this.

Thus, I would imagine that Hanguo's cultural sphere extends well beyond China's did in the real Middle Ages. I'd posit that most of its power would come from trade - geographically, it's set up to be a wealthy country, with the river giving access to the sea, and it's close to Baharata, which is noted as an important trade center itself. It might maintain something like the Silk Road, stretching far into the west and allowing dissemination of goods and ideas. This could easily be the setting for the PCs being tasked with playing caravan guards. It could even be the framework for an entire campaign, visiting stops along the way on the journey between the east and west.

It's likely that Hanguo, like Romaly and Manoza, would be a successor state to the bygone Aliahanian Empire. The aforementioned inn is linked via portal to a temple in the Southlands, suggesting to me that both are built on Aliahanian ruins and make use of the portal network that linked their various colonies. In addition to giving license for ruins and relics in the area, it would explain their well-connected nature - and potentially establish a rivalry between the three powers over who is the true successor to ld Aliahan.

The Kingdom of Dragons

Once you get a ship in Portoga, most locations in the overworld of Dragon Quest III are open to exploration, either by sea or via portals. There are only two late-game locations that are inaccessible. Due to being locked behind impassible mountains, they can only be accessed by riding the god-bird Ramia. One of those locations is the castle of Baramos, located in Gondo - and the other is Empress Castle, the residence of the Queen of Dragons.

Empress Castle is located on a small continent north of the Inland Sea, which, in my interpretation of the map for The Saga of the Ortegids, would place it between the Romalian Empire and the Worldforest. Of all the areas on the world map, this may be the most mysterious. There aren't any other features detailed on the continent beyond a single optional dungeon, and the place isn't mentioned by other NPCs either. Even those present at the castle don't impart a lot of lore on why the castle is there or how it operates. All in all, it really only exists to give you the Sphere of Light, which can be used to significantly weaken the final boss. The Queen of Dragons herself doesn't get a whole lot of screen time, and dies shortly after giving the Sphere to you.

This is a bit disappointing, personally, because it's an area that feels like it could be so much more. The Sphere of Light is an important item in Dragon Quest I; its theft by the Dragonlord is what kicks off that game's plot. And, speaking of the Dragonlord, the Queen is implied to be his mother. By all accounts, this should be an important chapter in the overarching story of the Erdrick Saga, but until I started replaying the game last year, I completely forgot the Empress Castle sequence existed.

But that means there's ample opportunity for us to pick up the slack. And what little information there is paints us an intriguing picture.

First off, a few NPCs mention that Empress Castle is the closest point to "the Sky World" - which seems to be in reference to Zenithia. Indeed, after beating the game, Zenithia can be accessed from a portal there. It is said that only a great hero may access the portal - this is really a handwave for why it's post-game content, but in a tabletop setting, the portal could be heavily guarded so that only one deemed worthy may pass. Performing great enough feats to convince the guards you're worthy could be a quest in and of itself.

Art by Tommy McDaniel

Given that Zenithia has its own legendary dragon, perhaps it is the ancestral homeland of dragonkind - or at least that of a particular royal lineage of dragons - and they migrated to Erdland through here. The portal may be to maintain contact with the Zenithians or the Divinegon, suggesting that Empress Castle is the primary point of communication between Zenithia and Erdland. With the growing of the Worldtree, however, the Sky World may have become easier to access, which could be a source of tension - particularly if ambitious Erdlanders are trying to get into a realm that was previously the perview of dragons and their champions.

Furthermore, the Dragon Queen calls herself "a messenger of the gods." This is an intriguing line, and it's rather frustrating that it never gets elaborated upon. For the purposes of The Saga of the Ortegids, I've interpreted the Sphere of Light as being a creation of Gaius, the god of fire, the forge, and dragons. In the framework of the lore I've created, it makes the most sense to me that this line is in reference to Gaius. Perhaps the royal family of dragonkind are the chosen earthly representatives of Gaius; they may even be his direct descendants. If we assume that the Dragonlord is in fact the Dragon Queen's son (which I do - it would further the themes of familial legacies in the Erdrick Trilogy, and the cyclical nature of the setting is what lends comparisons to a Norse saga), it makes perfect sense for why he would steal the Sphere of Light from Alefgard. It's his birthright, after all.

While we don't see any other points of interest on the continent, I would like to designate this land mass as the Kingdom of Dragons. The majority of the dragons of Erdland call this place their home, and form its ruling class, answering to the Queen of Dragons, who in turn rules through divine right mandated by Gaius. There would likely be a number of lairs here belonging to noble dragons of great power, wealth, and influence - the sort that could be fearsome enemies, valuable benefactors, or both. There's probably a lot of feuding and dragon politics going on behind the scenes, which PCs could be drawn into. Or perhaps they're tracking a dragon that has been terrorizing the land, only to find that they run a respected fief in the Kingdom of Dragons, and have retainers and brothers-in-arms among their fellow dragons. Suddenly, slaying the beast just got a lot harder.

I don't think that the Kingdom would be inhabited exclusively by dragons. Empress Castle seems to be designed for humanoids, and the NPCs there use the sprites used for elves and hobbits. They could be Dragovians, or dragons taking humanoid form, but it seems odd they would do that in the very center of dragondom where they'd have nothing to hide. Indeed, while the Dragonlord operates primarily in a human guise, the Queen of Dragons is always shown as a dragon.

Art by Monica Coleman

Personally, I'm inclined to believe that although dragons form the ruling caste of the Kingdom, there are humanoids living there too. There could be cities of humans (or elves, dwarves, or beastmen), but these would be feudal subjects of the dragon overlords. This, too, could lead to some fun opportunities. Perhaps the people would be unhappy under the yoke of draconic oppression, at least in some parts of the kingdom - but what are they going to do about it? Overthrowing a feudal overlord with access to great wealth and force of arms is already hard enough. Now imagine that overlord is a literal dragon! The PCs might become embroiled in a rebellion by the lower classes - do they try to navigate draconic society to negotiate things on their terms, or stand and fight, risking retaliation from the ruling dragon's allies?

While in game Empress Castle is depicted as being surrounded by a ring of mountains, the lines about it being close to the Sky World make me interpret this as an artifact of representing things on a 2D map. Instead, I would have Empress Castle sit on the summit of the highest mountain in Erdland. If the entire continent is a domain of dragons, it makes sense for its capital to be accessible from the air - and if dragons are the ruling class, it would be a symbol of status and a means of gatekeeping court secrets from the public if they can fly there with ease, while the lowly humans would need to risk a dangerous ascent to even reach the foot of Empress Castle.

Friday Encounter: A Witch's Broom

Here's an encounter aimed at giving the PCs access to a powerful magic item that could change their approach to problems - and to the strings attached. It can be used in any environment, but may make the most sense in the open wilderness.

The party should come across an unusual sight - the dead body of an old woman, dressed in a black robe and with an assortment of herbs and small bones in pouches on her belt, lies against a tree, hillside, or other obstacle. In her hand, she clutches a broomstick, which is inlaid with golden bands and has the word "Alako" engraved in the wood. A DC 10 Arcana or History check will determine that this means "flight" in Elvish. A character who can speak Elvish will know this automatically. Additionally, a DC 20 Investigation check will indicate that the body shows signs of blunt force trauma to the head and face, such as bruises on the skin.

The dead woman is a witch by the name of Katyusha Stepanova. She was riding on her enchanted broomstick when it crashed into an obstacle, killing her. Katyusha has nothing of value on her person save for the broomstick, which acts as a broom of flying - it can fly at a speed of 50 feet per turn when the command word of "Alako" is spoken. This naturally may prove a useful asset to the party, and may affect how they approach puzzles and obstacles.

However, nothing comes without a price, especially at the table. Katyusha had a sister - an older, more responsible witch named Vitalya Stepanova, who was aware of her sister's dalliances and wanted to keep a close eye on her. To that end, she placed a scrying charm on Katyusha's broomstick so that she could track it from her tower and watch wherever her sister went. And, if she tunes her crystal ball to the broom only to see it being carried around by a bunch of complete strangers, she'll assume the worst.

Vitalya will surmise that the PCs have killed Katyusha and made off with her broomstick - and to that end, she'll seek revenge. She will send curses against the party, afflicting them with foul weather, and command the creatures of the wilderness to rise up against them. Vitalya does not directly identify herself as being behind these attacks, at least not at first. Ideally, the PCs should run into several such encounters with Vitalya's magic before they start realizing that these incidents, and the broomstick, are connected. If they question NPCs in the area, they may be able to pass on rumors of the two witch sisters, and point them in the direction of their residences.

If the players start putting two and two together, or if they keep bypassing the encounters without picking up on anything, you may want to have Vitalya make a more direct appearance threatening them. This might lead the PCs to her tower if they want to settle things - where there will surely be more dangers awaiting them...

The Southlands

In the world map of Dragon Quest III, the vast area corresponding to sub-Saharan Africa, south of Isis, makes up a rugged, mountainous region I've dubbed the Southlands. The Southlands can further be divided into two major regions.

First of these is actually named in-game as Gondo, and appears to comprise much of the eastern half of the continent. Gondo seems to be a rather inhospitable region, and NPCs warn you of its dangers. They're probably referring to the high-level enemies there, but even looking at the map, we can see that it'd be a place of great danger even if we leave game mechanics out of the equation. It's enclosed by high mountains and contains numerous volcanoes and caves, including the Pit of Giaga, which connects Erdland and Torland. However, what's most notable is that Gondo's castle is the residence of Baramos, the principle villain of the first two thirds of the game.

Clearly, then, we're dealing with the local equivalent of Mordor - a place of death and desolation, with craggy peaks, searing lava floes, and vast poisonous swamps, all ruled over by a malevolent overlord. However, it seems that Gondo wasn't always this way. There are guards stationed at the Pit of Giaga, and the castle has a second throne room where a skeleton is seated on the throne, evidently the original occupant. It seems, then, that Gondo was once a human kingdom, but was overthrown and conquered by Baramos.

This might seem incongruous with the terrain, but there's actually solid reasons to believe humans could thrive here. Volcanic soil is very fertile, and there's enough forests in the area to suggest that it isn't all a barren wasteland. As any Tolkien fanboy could tell you, the wastes we're familiar with are limited to the Plateau of Gorgoroth, and other regions of Mordor are quite fertile and capable of growing crops. Gondo is likely similar. Considering that the Pit of Giaga is noted as a place that monsters crawl from, it makes sense that the inhabitants would want to establish a garrison against any dangers, and this may have informed state-building in the name of assuring order. The people of Gondo were likely a grim and militaristic sort, tasked with constant vigilance in ensuring the beasts of Torland did not threaten them or the outside world.

A further note on Baramos, he's described by some NPCs as a "demon lord." This is a recurring theme in Japanese fantasy settings - often times you'll see a "demon king" that threatens the civilized world, dwelling on the physical plane, and sometimes commanding all monsters in the world as his foot soldiers. They're usually responsible for all misfortune that faces humankind. This is a stock character that seems to be directly based on the final bosses of the Dragon Quest games. Their armies consist of disparate monsters to cover the various enemy types you'd face in a video game, and they're the source of all conflict because once you've defeated them, the game is over. Most Dragon Quest-inspired stories take these tropes and run with them. I've seen more than one in which this idea was portrayed as a metaphysically mandated cyclical system, with demon kings rising to prominence and being stricken down every era as a means to keep the forces of good and evil in a constant balance.

However, The Saga of the Ortegids does not shackle its worldbuilding to game mechanics - and for what it's worth, Baramos doesn't really come across as an existential threat. Most NPCs seem more concerned about their more immediate problems, and the king in Aliahan even notes that most people aren't even aware that he exists. In my personal experience, your quest to defeat him always seemed more like it was grounded in vengeance - your father previously set out to stop him, but never returned. Maybe it was just me coming at this from a mindset of D&D, but as a kid, I never got the impression that every single monster you fight was directly affiliated with Baramos. They feel more like random encounters that come across you by chance; NPCs certainly don't act like they're an invading force. From what I understand, the idea that every enemy is working for Baramos is made more explicit in lore that was only published in Japan. But this project is specifically based on early western marketing of the series, and if western players had no access to this information, it doesn't apply for our purposes.

Thus, I'm interpreting Baramos as a Drokkar sorcerer-king who conquered Gondo and now rules over it. He's undoubtedly a powerful one, and may well have his eyes set on further conquests, but his domain doesn't extend beyond the Southlands. There are monsters elsewhere in the world, and some are powerful indeed, but they are not all the same class of being, and only those in his castle can be assumed to be his servants.

Anyway, all that aside, the western half of the Southlands doesn't seem to be under Baramos's sway. There's one village, Tedanki, located in the southern hills. The village is ruined and lifeless during the day, but is inhabited by ghosts at night, who don't seem to realize that they're dead and laugh the prospect off. They claim to be suffering attacks by monsters, but believe the town's guard has them handled. Aside from that, there's a temple further up the western coast that was established for the benefit of sailors, but has lost contact with Tedanki.

We don't see any castles or kings in this region, but the people of Tedanki must have been well-traveled and with access to sophisticated infrastructure if they were known at the temple up the coast. I feel it's likely that there are other kingdoms in the western Southlands, but we never visit their capitals. Most likely, these are smaller petty kingdoms if Tedanki could be wiped out without support or retaliation.

I might sound like I'm contradicting myself, but the fact that Tedanki sits on the edge of Gondo makes me suspect that it was in fact wiped out by Baramos's forces. Perhaps the sorcerer-king is exerting his authority and demanding fealty from the surrounding kingdoms, and Tedanki was destroyed as a warning when it did not comply with his demands. Baramos clearly isn't a pressing enough threat for the temple to be worried about him, but he might be more concerned with his direct borders. In any case, the history of the various African kingdoms during the Middle Ages is an interesting and underappreciated one, and would be ripe for inspiration here. Some of them even have mythologized histories involving evil sorceror-kings!

Leiamland

The middle third of Dragon Quest III is centered around collecting a series of six orbs found throughout the world, some of which require more elaborate quests to obtain than others. Once all six orbs are found, they can be used for a ritual to summon Ramia the God-Bird, who can then be ridden to previously inaccessible areas. And this ritual takes place in Leiamland, a frozen island in the far southwest corner of the map.

Leiamland doesn't give us a lot to work with, but I think there's definitely something there for The Saga of the Ortegids. Most of the island is covered by ice, with the one feature being a temple taking the form of a giant tower, at the top of which is kept the God-Bird's egg. The only inhabitants of Leiamland seem to be two priestesses who stand as guardians and tend to the egg, and the island seems too inhospitable to support any major settlements.

Art by Alayna Danner

There's definitely an otherworldly character to the two priestesses. They speak in unison, and they're living alone in a frozen wasteland. The question of "what do they eat?" obviously comes into play here. This video, incidentally, is one of my favorites on all of YouTube, and encapsulates my philosophy as a DM - I want my settings to feel like living, breathing, Shandified worlds, and a goal with this project is to reinterpret the setting of the Erdrick Trilogy as something recognizable to its source material, but with a minimum of video game conceits. It's possible that a more realistic Leiamland would be more arable, and the priestesses would grow crops to sustain themselves. But I don't think I'd go with that approach.

I think it's more likely that the priestesses are themselves immortal god-like beings - handmaidens of the God-Bird, and tasked with safeguarding her cycle of death and rebirth in the mortal world. We do see earthbound but divine beings elsewhere in the same game, like Aurhea, who appears to be the spirit of a particular lake. It would explain why the priestesses can survive in such an isolated, inhospitable environment, and why they would have such a close connection to a god incarnate, something that goes even beyond what we see at other temples, where the gods are more distant and metaphysical.

The orb ritual is not the only time we see gods being summoned into the physical world in the Erdrick Trilogy, and I think that's quite relevant. It seems that this is a setting that has particular rules about how gods work - even if they do not ordinarily exist on the same plane as mortals, there are rituals that can give them physical bodies that can be directly interacted with. This is pretty consistent throughout the first three games of the series, and for my purposes with the project, the similarities between the numerous instances we see will not be treated as a coincidence.

The existence of Leiamland presents some interesting implications for worldbuilding - through it, we can posit that there is a class of lesser gods native to the mortal realm, and another class of divine beings that must be summoned. But I think there's other things such a location could add to a campaign, too. Certainly one could lift the questline from DQ3 wholesale and have the PCs collect artifacts needed for the ritual because they need to ride the God-Bird to an otherwise inaccessible destination.

But it could be just as compelling to have the party tasked with stealing Ramia's egg. It'd make for an interesting heist scenario - they'd have to prepare for a journey to the remote island, braving the elements just to reach the temple in the first place, and then find a way to get past the immortal guardians tirelessly watching over the egg. It's entirely possible that the temple is located in Leiamland because the icy wastes would deter anyone seeking to claim the sacred egg for their own purposes. 

Going off this idea, you could expand the temple into a dungeon if you wanted to. There's precedent for this - the Game Boy version of DQ3 added a post-game dungeon underneath Leiamland, inhabited by a sleeping golden dragon guarding a holy sword that can call lightning. The first floor of this dungeon is even shaped like the phoenix icon used to represent Ramia, so it seems like the place is connected to her cult. It's one of the largest in the game (and features some of the best spritework on the Game Boy Color), and could well be used as the basis for a megadungeon.

Friday Encounter: The Clueless Ghost

This encounter can be used in any dangerous environment - a dungeon, or perhaps a rough stretch of wilderness or a road occupied by highwaymen.

The PCs should first find a human skeleton that has obviously met a violent end. The exact details aren't important, and should be tailored to fit the context - for example, it may have its leg bones shattered as though it's fallen from a pit above, or it may be impaled or split in half, or perhaps the bones display teeth marks, as though it's been gnawed on by something big. You can use this to hint at a hidden danger or trap in the area if you wish.

If the PCs interact with the skeleton, nothing immediately obvious happens at first. However, shortly thereafter, a bedraggled man appears from the nearest hiding place. Again, this will depend on the environment - in a forest he could appear from behind a tree, or in a dungeon he might step through a doorway leading out of the room. He introduces himself as Urbano Bagnoli, a traveler who got lost and ended up here. He doesn't know how long he was here, but was too afraid to leave without being accompanied by some strong and capable friends to protect him from other dangers in the vicinity. He will explain that his home town is a short distance away, and asks to be escorted there; he greatly misses his fiance, Camilla, and hopes to be returned to her, afraid that she must be worried for his safety.

What isn't immediately obvious is that Urbano is long dead - in fact, the bones adorning the ground are his own. His wanderings took him to this site decades ago, and he soon found himself faced with dangers he wasn't prepared for. But he still had unfinished business in life, and his ghost clings to this site. Urbano doesn't realize that he's dead, and he doesn't realize the skeleton is his, citing that some other poor sap must have met an unfortunate end. He doesn't outwardly appear to be anything other than a normal living person, either. The players should ideally not realize that Urbano is a ghost unless they use Divine Sense or a similar ability, or until they start putting the clues together.

Urbano is familiar with the surrounding area and will give the party clues about dangers that may be up ahead, but as he's operating with information that's years out of date, this intel won't be as helpful as it might seem. He might describe a shortcut that has since become unusable, or warn about a monster that died ages ago. Should any danger show itself, he will withdraw from the situation until the PCs have it handled. He will join the party if they make camp, but won't eat anything, citing that he "doesn't feel hungry." In general, try to delay the reveal as much as you can with plausible excuses. Remember that Urbano doesn't know he's dead, and won't knowingly lie about anything. If the possibility of him being a ghost comes up, he'll laugh it off as a foolish idea that doesn't even deserve consideration, and question how anyone could even entertain the prospect. He will only be convinced if shown undeniable proof, such as if a solid object is phased through him.

If the PCs lead Urbano back to his hometown, they will discover that he doesn't recognize anyone there, as they've grown much older than he remembered. Meanwhile, everyone else is puzzled by how he hasn't seemed to have aged a day. Camilla, in fact, has moved on and married another man, and they have three children together. If Urbano hasn't been proven to be a ghost by now, this is when the revelation will hit him. He'll be shocked and aghast that the world has forgotten him - and he may just end up haunting the town unless the PCs can set things straight...

Luzami

Of all the locations in Dragon Quest III, Luzami is probably the least important. It's a small island in the open ocean, with a small isolated village; even the townspeople note that they haven't had visitors in years, and the shop has nothing to sell you, probably because the village is so far-flung it has little need for trade with the outside world. There's nothing there you need to complete the game, and it's so small and in the middle of nowhere that I'm willing to bet plenty of players miss it altogether. But it's still there. I love it when open world games have places with no real relevance to the plot or functional utility, but they're there nonetheless, giving the impression of a world that exists and extends beyond the needs of gameplay convenience. That's a philosophy I strive toward with my DMing, and it's why The Saga of the Ortegids exists. So no treatise on the geography of Erdland would be complete without a look at Luzami, and what can be done with it.

The most prominent feature of Luzami is an observatory, the residence of an astronomer who was exiled there for positing the theory that the world was round. This recalls how several astronomers in the real world like Galileo and Copernicus were charged with blasphemy for their theories, and suggests that Erdland has a similarly powerful religious authority (perhaps based out of Lancel). There's also a prophet living on the island who gives you hints on how to progress through his visions of your future deeds. And with that, I've pretty much covered everything you can interact with in Luzami.

The obvious question for the worldbuilder in me is why the settlement on Luzami exists. The fact that there's a shop there at all implies that it was connected to the outside world at some point, but for one reason or another was cut off and lost contact. Alternatively, it might just be that the shop simply doesn't offer anything of value to an adventurer. It might be something more like a grain storehouse. Luzami doesn't seem to be big enough to house more than one settlement of any considerable size, even if we assume that the map is simplified for gameplay purposes, so it seems unlikely that the village would encounter outsiders enough for trade to be viable. I'd figure that the people there likely rely on barter - perhaps the reason they don't have anything to sell you is because they don't have any use for gold.

Art by Alayna Danner

It's possible that Luzami was settled as a colony by some other power - Aliahan would probably make the most sense, given its proxmity to the northwest - but was abandoned for being too far-flung and offering little in the way of strategic advantages. It's also possible that Luzami exists as a penal colony, with the inhabitants being exiles or the descendants thereof - a place where various kingdoms sent their outcasts. We do know that the astronomer found his way to the island that way, but for the others, it's harder to say. Still, there could be some interesting opportunities for adventures if we assume the island is a place where people are exiled to. The PCs could be shipped off to Luzami if they run afoul of a powerful ruler, or perhaps they're after someone who knows something important, but they've been exiled to Luzami - and given the isolation of the island (it seems like it'd be too small to show up on most maps), tracking them down might be easier said than done.

I, personally, am drawn to the fact that there's a prophet living on Luzami. He appears to be the oldest resident - this is likely due to the game reusing sprites; there's a lot of old hermits throughout the game. But if we assume he's been there longer than anyone else, it's possible that the village grew around him. Maybe he's an oracle sought after by those who know where to look, who seek guidance from his glimpses of the future. That would give the PCs another reason to go to Luzami, if they hear rumors of an oracle and believe his foresight would be helpful to their purposes. I like to scatter NPCs that might provide a unique service to the party here and there in my maps, and this man could easily be made into one of them. Of course, you could just as easily use Luzami as is - just an island thrown somewhere in the map, waiting for the PCs to stumble upon it in their travels.

The Pirates of Thangobad

At the southern tip of the Eastern Continent, in a clearing on the coast, is fortress used by a band of pirates. Dragon Quest III doesn't really do a whole lot with the concept, but it's definitely something I'd like to expand on for The Saga of the Ortegids. In the game, the pirates mainly seem to be there to make use of the game's day-night cycle for a puzzle. They're out at sea during the day, so you can only speak to them at night. They don't actually give you any trouble, as they've heard of your exploits and respect you for them. But their existence does give some worldbuilding implications.

Obviously, the Eastern Continent must be a fairly lawless place for pirates to operate so openly. This makes sense given the only centralized kingdom we see there is Manoza, and the fortress is well out of its way. If one wanted to expand on this, you could easily imagine the southernmost region of the Eastern Continent as a lawless coast somewhat akin to the Carribean during the Golden Age of Piracy - a wretched hive of scum and villainy, well removed from civilized authority. If pirates can flourish in this area, there might be any number of mercenaries, gamblers, smugglers, and other rough types congregating here too. I'd put a number of free ports along the coast - the kinds of cities where crime abounds, where you should always keep watch over your shoulder, and where the guards are useless at best and corrupt at worst.

We might not see one in the game, but I think the area is begging for a big seedy pirate city to serve as a hub of black market trade and a place to find under-the-table work. I'll call it Thangobad - not really based on anything in particular, but it's got a good sword-and-sorcery feel to it. Much like Ashalam, a lawless city like this would make for a good home base for a more roguish party, and could generate a lot of adventure opportunities. As a port - especially one where someone could fly under the radar - it'd likely get traffic from all over, so it'd be a great place to get rumors from far-off lands, and the means to get there if the party desires. Plus, having so many unfettered ruffians in town could well lead to enough chaos and faction play to make the city itself an adventure site. Green Ronin's Freeport books might be of use here, but I've already used that for another setting, and Freeport is a bit calmer than what I have in mind here.

Interestingly, one of the pirates claim that they only steal from "scoundrels." I might be reading too much into this - it might just be an explanation for why they don't attack you - but we could use this as a justification for making the fortress belong to a band of privateers, who are hired by some power or another to keep raids in the area under control. Maybe Aliahan - one of them describes it as "a nice place." That, or they just have a code of honor - or are lying to avoid scrutiny. You could go with any of these options; if you expand the region, you could well have enough pirate crews operating to use multiple in the same campaign.

The crew in-game is led by a woman, who acknowledges that this is unusual for pirates. She respects valorous deeds, and if you return to the fort later in the game, she invites you for a drink to celebrate your victories. There are a number of potential effects here based on your character's gender and what dialogue options you choose, but one possibility, if you're playing as a male, seems to involve you seducing her. Given how I'm basing the Eastern Continent on sword-and-sorcery tropes and references, I think it's very feasible to reinterpret this character as a local equivalent of Belit from Queen of the Black Coast, the most famous of Conan's pirate adventures. If you need inspiration for how to play a fearless pirate queen who commands authority over an all-male crew and is easily swayed by strong men, there's plenty of literary precedent to fall back on.

Friday Encounter: The Sacrifice

This encounter's another one to subvert your players' expectations and present them with a moral quandry to solve. It works best on the road, since the PCs should ideally be unfamiliar with the local area. However, you may wish to plant some rumors in nearby settlements so that the players know what to expect - or at least they think they do.

While traveling, the party comes upon a small village where a strange ceremony is taking place. Four young men and women are parading through the streets bedecked in flowers and accompanied by guards, yet despite the festive scene, the townspeople are all watching silently with grim expressions. Even the youths on parade appear to be nervous, avoiding eye contact; some can even be heard sobbing. If the PCs decide to ask the villagers what's going on, they'll explain in hushed tones:

The village is in debt to a cult of demon worshipers, after an inhabitant of the town sold his soul generations ago. Now, the cult demands a sacrifice of four of the town's youths every spring, or the forces of Hell will be displeased and seek to collect their bargain by force. The sacrifice has happened every year for as long as anyone can remember, and no one has dared to defy the cult for fear of the consequences that may bring. Although the townsfolk regret having to sign away the lives of their children, they see it as their unfortunate duty to bear, and don't dare to question it. In particular, one girl, Katrin, is the beloved daughter of the town innkeeper, Rikerd Gerst. If the PCs stop at the inn, he will be visibly stricken with grief.

Naturally, this all sounds like a setup for the PCs to put a stop to the cult. If they ask around, the townspeople will give them directions to the site of the sacrifice a short distance away. If you like, you can spin this out into a full-fledged dungeon, or if you'd like to keep things simple, it could just be an altar in a grove.

Either way, if the PCs choose to pursue the sacrificial victims, they will find them gathered around a raised, stepped platform topped by an altar, with robed cultists watching silently. Enter Action Time at this point, and track the number of rounds that pass. The altar is a terrain feature with the Three-Quarters Cover, High Ground, Ledge, and Steep tags.

There are eight cultists gathered - six stand chanting in a circle, while one leads the victims, and an eighth waits by the altar with a curved sacrificial dagger. Each round, the cultist leading the victims will walk them higher up the steps to the altar. If the PCs show themselves, the six chanting cultists will attempt to hold them off, but the other two will not cease their duties.

Starting at the third round, if the cultist leading the victims and the dagger-bearer are still alive and not incapacitated, one of the victims will be laid on the altar, where the dagger-bearer slits their throat, killing them instantly. From then on, these two cultists will kill one victim per round as long as they are alive and not otherwise engaged in combat. If one of them dies or is incapacitated, and there is a cultist in the group that can fill the position, that cultist will attempt to disengage from combat and take up their role. This happens even if the PCs are an obvious threat. If this happens, the timer pauses for one round, but resumes from where it was left the next round. If all four victims are killed, the two cultists join in the fight.

If the PCs manage to defeat the cultists and return the youths to their families, the townspeople will be grateful, rewarding each PC with 100 GP per victim rescued safely. However, they will still wonder with noticeable anxiety what will happen now that the ritual has failed.

As a matter of fact, their fears are warranted. If the blood of less than four innocents was spilled on the altar that night, the pact is broken, and the sacrificial altar collapses into a hellmouth - a portal to the pits of Hell itself. The terrain around the altar warps, with the ground becoming parched and cracked and the trees gnarled, storms crackle overhead, and demons pour forth from the pit, laying waste to anything in their path. The PCs may well have traded one problem for a bigger one - and they might need to take greater measures to seal the portal they've created.