The Cursed City of Zinn-Manir
"All Glory to Zinn-Manir, jewel of the Southwest! All Glory to her ivory plated walls and hexagon towers! All Glory to the Sacred Lotus Willow at her Garden-Palace!
Woe, Woe, a Thousand Times Woe, for Zinn-Manir is forever lost. The graspings of Dragons have strangled her Beauty! No longer shall her Magi coax wonders from her gardens! Never again shall her blessed Armigers ride forth into the deserts!
Beware Zinn-Manir! Only beasts in the shape of men wander her streets now! Only witchlight shines in her towers! Only a withered horror stands at the center of her sacred gardens!"
-Elegy for Zinn-Manir, Author Unknown, censored in all Satrapies by the Immaculate Order.
The Zinn-Manir that Was
Two centuries ago, Zinn-Manir was once a bountiful kingdom in the Southwestern mountains. Lying atop an arid mountain plateau, its sprawling walled capital city was blessed by an immense and wondrous tree known as the Lotus-Willow. The Willow had the miraculous power to coaxe water from the air and condense it into sweet nectar, that if drunk could enable one to go days without water. Its people, the mahogany skinned and flaxen haired Manir, would eat of its fruit and some would receive the gifts of beauty, strength, and longevity and so join the ranks of its Sacred Armigers. The priests of the Lotus-Willow, the Magi of Zinn-Manir, cultivated the fertility of the tree and used it to grow terraced gardens throughout the city, from which the Manir would grow crops in the otherwise arid desert. Though this bounty was welcome, the Manir could not subsist on these gardens alone and instead formed the center of a modest empire, extracting tribute from oasis tribes and trade caravans. When these tributaries rebelled, Zinn-Manir would send out armies and heroes blessed by the Lotus-Willow to quell them. Its Sacred Armigers, their bodies honed to peak potential by extracts of the Lotus-Willow, challenged and defeated Southern legends such as the brilliant Warchief Twelve Arroyo, the fabled Mirage Knight Rampant, and the monstrous Sirocco-That-Walks. The Magi of the city negotiated with desert gods and demons on their own terms, and worked the flowers and fruit of the Lotus-Willow into potent artifacts. Its people mined silver and turquoise from the mountains and hills and worked it into exceedingly fine jewlery. Scholars from across Creation would journey to the city to study in its hexagonal library towers, while much diluted Lotus-Willow extracts formed the basis of priceless medicines. Zinn-Manir prospered until its name was known throughout the South, and it was this prosperity that was its doom.
The Realm, ever hungry for tribute, heard tell of Zinn-Manir's bounty and coveted it for themselves. The Empress herself gave the order for the 19th Imperial Legion, "The Dancing Coals of Hesiesh" to subdue Zinn-Manir and bring it into the Realm's fold. It was the start of a grueling campaign, the legion, though expertly trained, found itself harried by desert warriors and sorcerous assaults, its supply line facing setback after setback. As for the Manir, their troops found their masterfully worked bronze arms to be poor defense against imperial iron and steel, and all but their most puissant Armigers fell to the Dragon-Blooded when they took to conventional combat. The conquest of the plateau-empire would take eight years, and after a siege spanning two of those years, the Realm finally breached Zinn-Manir's defenses and forced the Sacred Armigers to surrender. Zinn-Manir would have been made another broken satrapy, were it not for the poisonous spite that worked its way into soul the High Magi of the Lotus-Willow.
Gathering his most powerful acolytes, the High Magi pronounced a curse upon the Realm and indeed, upon all who were not of the Manir, for his heart had hardened against allied tribes that failed to deliver Zinn-Manir from its plight. On the first gibbous moon of Zinn-Manir's occupation, the Lotus-Willow darkened and withered. All of the Manir within the city, from the eldest to the youngest, who had eaten of the Lotus-Willow were twisted into prowling inhuman beasts, forever thirsting for the waters of the human body. These once-human creatures fell upon the Realm legionnaires in an orgy of violence. Not even the city's immigrant community was spared, the unlucky citizens torn apart by those they once counted as friends and neighbors. The legion general, Ledaal Ulisa, and her elite forces retreated to a fortress they had erected on a nearby hill for the siege, but they were eventually slain by sorceries called down by the now inhuman Magi. By dawn, not a single human dwelled within Zinn-Manir. The remnants of the legion retreated to the outlying regions of what was once Zinn-Manir's empire and wrote off the debacle as a pyrrhic victory in the Realm's histories, abandoning the city of Zinn-Manir to the desert. And so it has been for two centuries…
The Zinn-Manir that Is
In a southwestern plateau, the tribes of the oases speak of an unholy city, its gardens twisted and withered, its streets prowled by stalking horrors. They make signs against evil whenever the moon is gibbous, for it is then that the beings of this city skulk forth to spirit away living creatures and drink of their lifeblood until naught remains. They tell dark tales and make bitter offerings to this city, to Zinn-Manir, hoping to appease the Manir and avert further ruin.
Though it has been two centuries since its downfall, Zinn-Manir remains populated, after a fashion. The Lotus-Willow still blooms, and though its fruits are now sour to human palates, the folk of the city still cherish their taste.The abominations that were once the Manir breed true amongst themselves, and they continue to be a long lived race besides. The Sacred Armigers, their bodies rippling with muscle, still dress in their armor of petrified bark and wear their silver and turquoise circlets. The Magi still wear their ceremonial robes, pore over arcane texts, and tend to what remains of their gardens. But these are but perverse remnants of Zinn-Manir's culture. Its citizens prowl the streets as animalistic monstrosities, the eldest of them were driven mad and cruel by their transformation and younger generations have known nothing else. They scavenge food from the ruins of their once great city, setting up crude farms and gardens, but they crave the water that flows in the veins of humans and so abduct unlucky members of nearby tribes to drain of their lifeblood. The common Manir remember little of their ancestral legacy, while the memories of the Magi and Armigers are tainted by hate and pain. Vast troves of wealth lie in Zinn-Manir, either hoarded by the city's monstrous rulers or ignored by its equally monstrous commoners.
The outermost provinces of what was once Zinn-Manir's empire are a small but modestly profitable satrapy(referred to as Ulisa's Mesa on Realm maps) held by House Ragara, its main exports being silver and turquoise. Desert tribes pay tribute to the Realm while small communities descended from (still human) Manir can be found in settled areas, though they refer to themselves of the Uprooted instead of Manir(for their mutant kin hold no special mercy for them). Caravans occasionally pass through and are taxed accordingly. For most of its history under the Realm, Ulisa's Mesa has been a minor satrapy, regarded as backwater yet productive, though powers both local and foreign are beginning to stir.
Intrigues and Mysteries
The Satrap Ragara Ibana has begun preparing to the garrison expand her house's influence deeper into Zinn-Manir's former territories. Ostensibly, she wants access to the silver and turquoise deposits close to the Manir capital. In truth, House Ragara craves the arcane secrets of the Magi for its dark research. Ibana has begun hiring mercenaries to "cleanse" Zinn-Manir of its monsters, underestimating just how large and labyrinthine the city really is.
Not all of the Armigers devolved into monstrosities, several were away from the city when the High Magi completed his dread working. Some turned to brigandry against the Realm, while others quietly assimilated into the satrapy's Uprooted communities, horrified at what their city had become. One of the most powerful Armigers, called Ozmin, learned to disguise his powers and enlisted as a footsoldier in the legions to escape his homeland's cursed legacy. After a human lifetime of battle, at last an aged yet still strong Ozmin has returned to Ulisa's Mesa, homesick but unsure of what to do. He still has his old armor and powerbow (made of living wood cut from the Lotus-Willow itself) cached in an abandoned well on the mesa.
The Lotus-Willow still stands withered yet alive at the center of Zinn-Manir, but legends among the Uprooted say that it is not the only tree of its kind. Tales are told of saplings taken from Zinn-Manir in better times were carried to secret oases and outposts. Some of these tales are true, the Immaculate Order jealously guards one sapling, still miniscule even after centuries, while an isolated tribe at the far edge of the plateau bears signs of exposure to untainted Lotus-Willow fruit. The spirits of the desert know little of the Lotus-Willow's true nature besides what the Manir would tell them, and Heaven's records on the tree have been sealed deep within the Forbidding Manse of Ivy for centuries.
One of the younger Magi of the city has begun to show interest in the outside world, aside from hauling off captives to drain of their lifeblood that is. He sends forth bound demons to spy on the world beyond Zinn-Manir's walls and report back to him.
General Ledaal Ulisa died but did not perish. The fortress that was her tomb still stands atop its lonely hill, the location of a small shadowland called The Grave of Embers. The general and her elite troops linger as ghosts and occasionally raid Zinn-Manir in retribution for their gruesome deaths. Were they lucid, Ulisa and her soldiers could become great heroes in the lands of the dead. Alas, their minds are clouded by rage and death-terror. At times, Ulisa does not even remember she is dead. She still wields Talon of Embers, the red jade Direlance she bore in life, a treasure blade that House Ledaal would desperately like returned. The people of the plateau avoid the Grave of Embers as much as they avoid the city, for the mad ghosts sometimes mistake the desert tribes for their enemies or allies.
The Manir of the City
The common Manir are emaciated and hunched over creatures, their nails lengthened to claws, their eyes sunken and wide, their blue grey skin appearing almost mummified. They emerge only at night, for the light of the sun causes their skin to become uncomfortably taught and impair their movement. Their mouths appear constantly puckered, until they open wider than a human mouth should, revealing needle like fangs and a hollow tongue for draining blood. They do not need to drain human blood, but they crave it insatiably. During the earliest days of their change, the more lucid of them covered their faces in shame, a custom that has persisted among younger generations who ape their elders without thought.
The Manir of Armiger stock resemble their common kin, but walk upright and ripple with lean muscles. They still dress as they once did, but their armor is filthy and their robes ragged. They hold court amongst themselves in the ruins of their towers, not noticing how their debased practices are bestial mockeries of their once proud culture. They can channel essence, and have an essence pool equal to Essence x 10. Few are above essence 3. They all have at least one charm related in some way to the Lotus-Willow, some can grow trees from their bodies at astounding speed, while others can emit an intoxicating pollen that enthralls the weak willed. Aside from their native charms, many Armigers have access to evocations from their artifacts and know charms from Steel Devil Style or Righteous Devil Style.
The Magi of Zinn-Manir also walk upright, but are wizened unlike the Armigers. Like the Armigers, they wear the ragged garb of their old station. Thaumaturges all, they have access to the Emerald Circle of Sorcery and all know at least one spell (Unslakable Thirst of the Devil-Maw is a common control spell). They too have enlightened essence as the Armigers do, and possess charms related to the Lotus-Willow.
