Before the Disaster, Blackbay was actually a magocracy, ruled by a council of governing mages who were associated with the school of magic that existed in the current location of the Barrows. The current regime's policies towards magic are a reaction to the rather dramatic failure of the previous government.
- The Barrows
- The Stews
- Warehouse District
- High Town
- Old City
- Home of Karl Oressu
- Merchants' Quarter
People of NoteEdit
75 years ago, the Disaster leveled one of the city's largest districts and killed a significant number of its inhabitants. Most of Blackbay's recent history is colored by this event, including its current government, culture, and laws concerning magic.
Magic in BlackbayEdit
Citizens are forbidden from using magic with the exception of divine magic. This has caused users of magic to move underground and establish secret societies dedicated to teaching and passing on magical traditions.
Blackbay's primary export is salt fish because of the large schools of fish called skrei and natural, easily mined salt deposits.
Blackbay is a port, and to maintain trading contacts means turning a bit of a blind eye to magical imports and exports. Local government allows magical goods to move "through" the city, but merchants cannot sell them to the citizens of Blackbay. Specialized businesses deal with issues surrounding the transport of otherwise illegal merchandise through the city. The largest such business is Crow Street Sureties.
The native peoples of Blackbay, often just called "Islanders," have dusky skin and hair, in contrast to the more fair-skinned people of the Old World.
The waters around Blackbay are inhabited by aquatic tribes of selkies, who have a reputation for crashing and looting merchant ships.
| Ethelred the Old
| Ethelred is an ancient widow and an avowed expert on the history of the city.
This city used to be beautiful, if you can believe it. There were this big crystal dome at the top of the Academy--you never knew with those mages, maybe it were a giant diamond! The sun would hit it just right and there'd be rainbows everywhere. Little flashes of color showing up when you were doing your days business. At night, it would glow like a second moon...none of these filthy lamps like we have to live with now.
It's a nasty town we are, now. Drunk sailors in the street and fellows working at the docks but what wouldn't think twice about having their way with even the oldest old nag. We make our money bringing things in and shipping them out nowadays. Parts of town is dangerous to walk at night if you don't got the money to be someplace safer--and most of us don't.
Sometimes when the sun sets over the North Sea, I see all the ships on the horizon, coming in from the south and west, bringing cargo from those savage islands and the countries what thinks their more civilized than us and who knows else besides. And I know I'm poor and old and all my sons are gone to the sea, but we're still better off counting on money than we were those bastard mages.
We're free, now. Those mages didn't give a damn about us; we didn't know we were living on borrowed time. But now, we're dirty, and filthy, and free.