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The Gullet is an unofficial, local name given to a few shady, often stinking streets (thanks to rotten fish or spoiled oysters, crabs, and clams in the dockside sheds) along the docks of Zobeck. From the lowest-ranking apprentice to the most powerful Praetorian, the guilds define the rhythm of daily life-brewing beer, making clockwork devices, mining, weaving, and plotting against their rivals in other great trade cities, from Siwal to Trollheim and everywhere in between. Most importantly for adventurers, the guilds make things, from the mundane weapons and armours of the Fraternal Order of Arms and Armoury to the magical potions and scrolls of the Arcane Collegium (technically a guild as well as a teaching institution). The dozens of guilds in Zobeck are each a tiny world, each filled with princes and paupers, each powerful in a narrow sphere. It is the open secret of the city, and its leader, the scarred and embittered Ersebet Cemilla, struggles in a web of treachery that she no longer truly controls. Unfortunately its members have a history of corruption from outside influences-from accepting bribes to acting as double agents for various cults and even the Arcane Collegium. Their chief agent is the SPYGLASS AND CARTOGRAPHER’S GUILD - a shadowy organization made up of individuals of dubious backgrounds and morals.
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Real power however, lies with the PRAETORS - a secret council that acts as the Mayor’s eyes and ears and controls the city’s secret police, jails, and tax collectors. Officially, Zobeck is ruled by the Council of Consuls - powerful individuals descended from the leaders of the Revolt. And somehow, Zobeck’s clockwork heart keeps ticking, Its heroes avert disaster again and again. The people’s hungers draw devils like crows to a corpse. The people of Zobeck want power and wealth, and they bargain with anyone who can provide what they want: Gypsy fortune-tellers, strange cults, harsh gods, scheming wizards. Underneath the busy mercantile façade lays a darker city - a place built on kobolds enslaved in silver mines a place once ruled by autocrats who trafficked with devils and shadowy fey a place corrupted by pacts of blood, temptations of the flesh, and the raw power of untrammeled greed.
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The Free City has escaped the grip of nobility and is now too big for anyone to push around – although many still try. In just a few years our merchants, arcanists, and followers of the Gear Goddess built a sleepy backwater into a major trading power, with mercantile clout far beyond its borders. The aristocracy raged, but neighbouring nations found the idea of an independent Zobeck useful: An unspoken agreement made it plain that so long as trade flowed and we remained neutral in the affairs of our “betters”, they would allow the city to exist. Almost 80 years ago, the Revolt destroyed the city’s former masters, the House of Stross, and the power of their followers and sycophants. Zobeck is a Free City - one of the few places that do not answer to a feudal lord.