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.

Manoza

The Kingdom of Manoza is the largest polity on the Eastern Continent, taking up much of that landmass's southern half. Much as I did with Edina, I'm using the newer name here; the older translations called it Samanao, which is more accurate to the original Japanese, but sounds more like the name of a city than a country, so I'm saving it for the capital. The territory is ringed by high mountains, making it inaccessible from the coast - in-game, the only way to get there is via a portal, which connects to a small temple located in the eastern plains. As I've discussed in the past, these portals are likely the remnants of an advanced transportation network constructed by the ancient Aliahanian Empire, so if Manoza is only accessible by these portals, it was likely first settled by the Aliahanians. That would explain why it's the only large and settled kingdom on the continent as well - much like Romalia, Manoza is likely a successor state to Old Aliahan, growing from a lost colony cut off from the capital when the empire fell. The Romaly of the east, if you will.

Unlike Romalia, the temple where the portal to Manoza dumps you out at is actually in working order, staffed by a priest. Said priest knows rumors about the king, so we can assume that this temple is a subject of Samanao. This provides us with some interesting implications if we take it literally. While other Aliahanian portals are located in bygone ruins, it seems that Manoza has made efforts to preserve its portal system. Given the kingdom's rugged terrain and difficult natural boundaries, and the fact that its closest neighbors are barbarians and pirates, it might rely on these portals for trade with the outside world. The temple connecting Manoza with the rest of Erdland might be a strategic trade artery. For The Saga of the Ortegids, I'd probably place a town around this temple, as it would likely be an important market center. I'd also put some trade routes through the mountains, but these would be difficult to navigate, fraught with danger from bandits, wild beasts, and the elements. Most Manozan merchants, then, would prefer to use portals for easier access to places like Romaly, Ashalam, or Portoga, saving them a lengthy voyage to get to trading partners wealthier than their neighbors.

In general, the eastern part of Manoza would be most conducive to settlement - it's mostly plains. To the west, around Samanao, the terrain is more rugged, with hills, dense forests, and swamps. Perhaps the capital is built on the site of an ancient Aliahanian city, the surroundings of which have been long reclaimed by nature (incidentally, providing any DMs plenty of liberty to drop in lost ruins buried deep in the jungle). The settlements to the east would be more recent constructions, established by vassals of the capital who migrated to more hospitable regions over time. This would influence the culture of Manoza in a few ways. Due to their distance from the capital, the eastern cities might enjoy a degree of autonomy - and the fact that they provide Samanao with access to the outside world would mean the nobles of the capital would want to keep their favor, likely relaxing their grip over them.

Art by Geoff Taylor

At the same time, with the capital being in the thick of the wilderness, it might have to make itself into something of a fortress, either to protect itself against outside threats, to take advantage of natural defenses, or both. This is supported by some NPC dialogue, which notes that the wilderness is dangerous, and the people fear to leave the city's walls. With the entire kingdom ringed by easily defensible mountains, I can see it taking its impregnability as a point of pride - Samanao is likely somewhat of a microcosm for Manoza as a whole, in this way; a fortress within a fortress. Perhaps the city or the kingdom would take on something of a regimental character.

This ties in nicely with how Samanao's quest plays out in Dragon Quest III. The kingdom has been usurped by a troll using a magical staff to disguise himself as the king, imprisoning the real ruler and exerting his will over the city as a tyrant. He's imprisoned and executed people for speaking out against him, abuses his servants on a whim, and banished the kingdom's greatest warrior, Simon, to the Shrine of Shackles so that he might not oppose him. You could play this as something of a police state, with the people taking the role of prisoners trapped inside the walls of the capital.

The real-world inspiration for Manoza is less obvious than most places in the game. The more recent translations give the NPCs there Portuguese names ("Simon" becomes "Simao," for instance), because as we all know, Brazil is the only country in South America. However, looking at the map, the capital would appear to be closer to Peru, and the mountainous geography is more reminiscent of the Andes. Coupled with the plot here, I'm convinced that Manoza is actually a reference to Spain's South American colonies at the time of Simon Bolivar's rebellion. That is a deep cut - it's an era that isn't often referenced in Anglophone pop culture, let alone Japanese. But it speaks to how well-versed in history DQ3's developers were, and it's a bit disappointing that such a cool reference was completely lost in translation.

All that being said, the early nineteenth century is stretching the limits of a medieval fantasy world a fair bit, even going under the assumption of the History's Greatest Hits setting that is Erdland. I probably wouldn't use the aesthetics of the era - Romans might not look too out of place next to knights, but Bolivar's armies certainly would. Luckily, the image of a decadent fortress-city ruled by a tyrannical overlord, built on the ruins of a bygone empire in the midst of a vast and inhospitable jungle, just oozes sword-and-sorcery flavor, and fits right in with the Eastern Continent drawing more on the pulps than history. In a sword-and-sorcery setting, Samanao might look something like Lankhmar or the City-State of the Invincible Overlord, even if it's nominally the capital of a much more expansive realm than either of those.

Art by Wanxing Wang