|Known for||Bad trading, better prayers|
Quirkytown is a small village built inside a crater. It was founded ages ago by a race of sprites called the Quirks. They lived a life of leisure and happiness until heroes arrived. The slain quirks went on to possess any trespasser of their ruins, making them exhibit dance and sing against their will. That's why prayers are more powerful here since the liturgy is not only shared but incredibly more vivid than in any other town. Nowadays, Quirkytown is inhabited by some curious people who display manners and attitudes obviously full of quirks.
The quirks landed on Godville in an undetermined time between the creation of the first and second dimension. They had been a spacefaring race of sprites whose sole activity was to dance around the shiniest stars they could find all day(?) long. When the gods saw the mayhem that this sprites brought to the night-sky they decided to lure them all into a trap. They created the brightest star in the skies vault and waited for the quirks to start dancing around it. When the time were right they smashed the orb into the earth, plunging the creatures into the crater it formed. The quirks found themselves trapped by gravity and helplessly confined in the lagoon that formed below their feet, but they did not despair and eventually the sprites managed to resume their moth-like behavior using stone structures and bonfires.
Alas heroines launched an expedition inside the crater and slayed the quirks on order to acquire gold and experience. Their spirits lingered in the stones of the former monuments, and when the first settlers arrived, the ghosts decided to possess the humans and use their bodies to dance once again. This helped shaping the odd culture of the village that would be called Quirkytown, as citizens were often overtook by an urge to dance and sing apparently out of the blue. This situation severely hindered any development effort that traders may have attempted for the better part of the documented era. Luckily the mystery of quirkyness was eventually solved and the locals resolved to forfeit living in the isles and build a ridge of wood on top of the lagoon. The city that resulted was a densely populated ring leading to a promenade that looms over the misty isles where the ever dancing ghosts of the quirks. Quite the city of mystique we know today.
- For really particular reasons, trading is not profitable here
- On the other hand, Quirkytown has something magical that brings heroines and deities closer
The local economy orbits around bottle caps. It should be the end of the world for any sane trader to accept them as currency, so heroines (forced into this strange economy) have to deal with predatory bankers who exchange caps for gold. Even though, the average adventurer doesn't care much about this economic conundrum because they'll be payed in caps and caps will be enough to buy beer.
The inhabitants of this town suffer from Quirkiness. Quirkiness ranges from:
- Collecting bottle caps
- Tie wearing
- People singing in the town as if they are in a musical
- Impersonating famous characters with improvised attire and atrezzo
- Engage in heated arguments about the exact tonality of the colours around them
The Colour Wheel
In the middle of the lagoon stands tall a ring of galleries surrounding an ancient Quirk shrine. This hedge maze is crammed with artists who organize themselves into quarters, each a color of the wheel:
- The white walk on top, made of marble and thoroughly decorated, is inhabited by the most famous artists.
- Then the wheel, four stories of galleries disputed between artist gangs called colours. They will often challenge each other into artistic competitions to take disputed territories or just because.
- And finally there's the black maze, which is the web of tunnels below the wheel. This place is reserved for forgotten or forsaken artists who are literally exiled into obscurity. A dead end here holds the works of Pic, the inventor of the insecurity camera.
The wheel was meant to be, being this a city of artists and spirits, the locals were going to gravitate towards a 9 meters tall stone shrine that gleams in all colours known and some other few. Even when the town was elevated into the outer ridge, the people didn't really abandon that isle and since they had to fish daily to provide a meal they often docked in the wheel to have lunch and discuss the arts. As time went on and food was more abundant the architects of Quirkytown bent their heads into what they shall build around the wheel. The answer ended up being a larger wheel. The flourishing arts found a home in the wheel and eventually the current state of affairs took hold.
It is the main attraction as it holds the best that the city has to offer and possession is likely, which enhances the experience. Make sure to be respectful so to avoid tangling yourself in an artistic showdown, as a rule of thumb don't provoke the anger of an artist unless you can match them. They won't harm you, physically at least, but rather mock you severely for a good while.
A great poet once said that 'All the world is a stage. And all the men and women mere players'. This is nowhere more true than in the city of Quirkytown, where indeed each alley, promenade, pub and roof are meant to be danced upon. Every corner hosts a dialogue or a soliloquy, often a song or two in between. This disposition posed a dramatic dilemma, for when everywhere is a scene no place really is.
This philosophical conundrum thrusted the quirks into a deep existential crisis. The already dysfunctional population went completely ballistic about each and every aspect of their lives, the city became a belching pot of tormented souls wailing as each fragment of their mind was lost to the pursuit of the stage. Every one habit trastorned by the question that lingered in the mind of every half dressed folk, any paper munching sap and each and all wall climbers.
Eventually the most sane among the locals came up with the stage, a space that would end all questioning about the issue. It was not without trouble that the stage was brought from the thoughts to the deeds. The first plans were utterly impractical and called for the demolition of considerable part of the city. After long consideration the builder's gaze fell upon an isle in the lagoon that was deep in the crater. At long last the stage, a massive wooden platforms full of swinging curtains, was built above the waters. It took a great deal of publicity and forceful persuasion but soon the better part of Quirkytown recognised the stage as 'the stage'. Thus putting an end to one of the darkest chapters of the city's history.
Nowadays the stage is a square palace, inside of which all manners of spectacles are performed. A ferry makes the crossing from the outer ridge's port to the stage's docks every hour. Visitors are neither encouraged nor discouraged. One may attend, join or completely avoid the plays that are being enacted in the velvet belly of the stage. Bring your best outfit and a strong voice just in case, better safe than sorry.
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