The Bat'yan

Rays of sunlight sneak through the canopy overhead. Anaroma of sickly sweet fruit fills the lungs with every breath, and the air is heavy, hot, and wet. The road ahead snakes between dense trees, which are barely far enough apart to allow passage. Wildlife rustles in the branches above, and the songs of a dozen colorful birds accompany the rumble of wagon wheels. Welcome to the Bat’yan.

The Barangay
Communities in the Bat’yan are called barangays (bahrenGAIS). The government of west Arneria is almost entirely local, and barangays off the Causeway are tiny, tight-knit villages with no more than a few hundred people. They visit larger neighboring settlements to trade and hear important news from elsewhere, but the Bat’yan life is close and rural.

Every barangay is different. The towns in the deepest parts of the rainforest are steeped in tradition and attuned to the nature of their home region. These are some of the Beast World’s remotest communities; some have never even encountered the species common in other homelands. They’re also the most self-sufficient, having produced their own food, medicine, clothing and shelter since they first formed.

However, most barangays are more connected with the outside world. Roads through the thick rainforest foliage run throughout the Bat’yan. They’re maintained by each individual village, who value networking with Causeway cities and the rest of the Beast World. Each still retains a distinct culture that any who leave to see the world carry with them.

The Datu and the Raja
The leader of a barangay is the datu. They are its singular authority of law and civil management. Every barangay keeps its own laws, its own taxes, and its own justice. The datu is chosen with the same autonomy. A common system in much of the Bat’yan is to choose the datu from families within a privileged social class, or from leaders in the Pirhouan church.

In foreign affairs and dealings with the Beylik, the raja is the voice of all datus in the Bat’yan. The raja is a powerful diviner with the ability to network their mind with all the datus at once. The raja can reach out to them with questions and divine their response to act according to their will. The raja is an important figure, but they serve at the pleasure of their datus. The barangay leaders are always talking--if the raja is found to be acting against their wishes, they soon find themselves in a violently uncomfortable position.

A Day His and Hers
The social lives of men and women are more separated in the Bat’yan than in other homelands. Married couples of opposite gender keep their own distinct circle of friends, unlike the mixed social lives of Allemance and Oria. This segregation begins at a young age; boys and girls play the same games, but tend to stick with their own gender. Life can be tough for kids who aren’t sure which side of this fence they’re on (or are in a different pasture altogether), but most parents encourage their pups to be understanding about the ones figuring themselves out.

Adult men tend to be morning socializers. They congregate in front of coffee shops at dawn, talking with friends and catching up on the news around the barangay. The gatherings are where useful barter between families is arranged, but they’re also a hive of gossip about every little thing. Meanwhile, women do the early ranch work and attend to breakfast with children. (In the Bat’yan, there’s a strong association between women and breakfast for this reason.) Afterward, they maintain the house and look after kids too young to send outside on their own.

At noon, a family pulls together to pass the hottest part of the day with a nap. The early start to their day is to allow these important two hours or so. Life in the rainforest barangays takes a break to prevent heat sickness and get a quick rest in the afternoon.

Then, the roles switch. Men remain at home to do afternoon chores and begin gathering food for the late meal. This is also their time to look after the young ones, which they spend playing games to teach them some lesson or other. The women bring any produce harvested during the morning to shops, where they meet with friends and while away the hours. They compare harvests and snipe a bit in good fun about sadder crop offerings.

Around sunset, families converge once again for the late meal. Partners catch up on the day’s events and older children share what’s been happening with them. This is important bonding time, where parents model a strong relationship for their children. The animals are put away, the last chores are done, and homes quiet down for sleep as nighttime darkness falls.

Independence and Family
Unlike in other homelands, adults normally live with their parents until they’re married. Young adults start a new home in the barangay once they have a spouse to share it with. The average marriage age in the Bat’yan is 25, which gives a young adult time to find their footing in the world and demonstrate their responsibility to a partner.

Weddings in the Bat’yan are a rowdy affair. The barangay gathers to welcome a new family to their community, celebrating with songs everyone knows. Weddings are local festivals that might last two or three days. The datu gives the new couple a substantial gift from their personal fortune. In the following week, everyone in the barangay erects a house for them as a welcoming gesture.

Flexible Style
The schedule and rhythm of a family is rarely so strictly defined, of course. Beasts of the Bat’yan are flexible, adaptable people who take their work with them throughout the day. The walk home from the coffee shop is a good time to carry back a tool borrowed by a friend. It’s good to stop and take a break on the way, and the ongoing bethel wall repair needs a bit of work too. Bat’yan folks lead easygoing lives that go with the world’s flow.

This meandering schedule differs from an Allemagnian’s polychronism in that folks in the Bat’yan are always making progress toward several goals at once. The flex and flow of their lives is incredibly productive from a big-picture perspective. Oric culture builds great things because every person is a part with a specific purpose, but Bat’yan culture builds great things because every person can quickly adapt to the needs of the moment.

Art in the Bat’yan
In west Arneria, there’s only a fuzzy line between artists and conventional workers. Almost everyone in the barangays performs art and music, which they fold seamlessly into other parts of their lives. Becoming a career artist is a transition that takes years; with the aid of their community paying for their performances, a barangay bard starts their career later in life, but more well-equipped.

The Blackwild
The Bat’yan is scarred by a curse of unknown origin. In the middle of the rainforest stands a forbidden place where light cannot escape, and the whispers of demons entice anyone to move closer. Miles of the rainforest have been totally swallowed by this darkness, which the Arnerians call the Blackwild. It’s one of the few places in the Beast World where demons can touch the material world. Willful creatures who enter it are invaded by passengers with the desire and power to destroy anything that exists.

A barrier erected by the paladins of Dramphine prevents the Blackwild from advancing to devour any more of the Beast World. However, its mile-deep rim is warped by dark magic that claws out of the black. This border region is known as the Ring of False Blessings. Fruits grow enormous and juicy in the Ring, and birds of unreal colors fly between turquoise trees, singing an enticing song in a young woman’s voice. The Ring of False Blessings is beautiful, but in a bizarre, unsettling way. Nothing inside it can leave, but it can try to convince someone to enter.

The Dramphinian paladins hold this law absolute and at the expense of every other: entering the Blackwild is forbidden. Willfully venturing into the Blackwild or Ring of False Blessings is punishable by death. Memories of the terror wrought by demons who rode along on beasts who wandered in compel them not to take chances. Even discussing entering the Blackwild is punished with detainment and weeks of questioning by the order. It is the duty they hold higher than any other.

Castaway Point
A lane of treacherous currents and a dense wall of colorful coral make Castaway Point an isolated port. Trade vessels that sail the Azur Gulf are occasionally thrown off course and into these precarious waters, usually attributed to the Throne of the Easterlies. Vibrant reefs can destroy even the sturdiest hulls, dooming crews to the deep. Nature sometimes shows a chaotic kind of mercy, though; the same currents that shred a boat will safely carry sailors to Castaway Point’s quiet beach.

This little city holds a unique secret: a population of murine rats who never left Arneria. The people of Castaway Pointrefuse to be completely isolated, and have a stubborn rescue tradition. Navigation out to sea is difficult, but not impossible. Skilled, brave sailors weave between the reefs on nimble craft inspired by Al’ari designs. These “Sea Rats” carry rescued sailors back home, and sometimes wander west to become pirates or delvers.

Duyan Vale
The large Causeway town of Duyan Vale is a community of apprentice cooks, their masters, and their experimental eateries. Training in this corner of the world is a huge step forward for anyone looking to become a famous datu’s chef or high-end restauranteur. Herb foraging in the nearby Matatrono supplies the professionals with the fresh ingredients they need. It’s a lucrative profession that has become more perilous with regular Dungeon appearances; Duyan herb and mushroom hunters are always looking for delver escorts.

Caravan routes often stop in Duyan; even the roughest gruel-eating delver admits the food is worth it.

Fort Tawiran
After making the six-mile journey across the Strait of Glass, foreigners looking to enter Arneria must first pass the gates of Fort Tawiran. The twenty-foot doors remain open during the day, but regular patrols of the bey’s infantry keep out undesirables. To enter Arneria, a traveler must provide proof of their business in the homeland.

Tawiran is a rare hiccup in Arnerian architectural planning, as the gate fort was never intended to be a city. As a result, buildings have grown on and out from the wall, down under the rainforest canopy. The ancient stone walls of the fort stand in contrast to the chaotic, improvised look of the adjacent city. It’s an accurate look at Causeway life and most newcomers’ first impression of the eastern homeland. The locals are a mix of people from across the continent who seek to spread welcoming goodwill (and to show foreigners the first Arnerian goods of their visit).

Kala’bil
At the northmost corner of a hexagon-shaped loop in the Causeway (also known as the “Shield Ring”), Kala’bil is on the front line of the ongoing Dramphinian fight against the Blackwild. From the ramparts of the Causeway ring, paladins stand guard with ferocious commitment. Kala’bil is the closest point on the Causeway to the unnatural scar in the world itself that lurks in the depths of the forest.

Kala’bil is the headquarters of Arnerian Dramphinians. The upper floor of its bethels are paladin outposts, from which the church of the Moon Wolf conducts ongoing research to close the Blackwild forever. Training grounds dot the earth within the Causeway ring, where young Arnerian paladins are brought into the fight against demons and undead.

The larger city contains numerous arcane and history libraries, sheltered within solid stone with reinforced doors. Copies of every historical account of the Bat’yan and Beylik are stored here. The Dramphinian libraries are open to the public, but curious readers must consent to screening against Unnature’s influence. The Blackwild, distant but so close, claws at the psyche of every paladin.

Kal’oro Grove
An enclave of natural grandeur lies deep in the Bat’yan rainforest, guarded by a border of thick, towering trees. Intruders into Kal’oro Grove are punished with harsh, permanent transformations by the circle of old servants of nature that dwell within: the Kapre Druids. Their power over the basic nature of the world has gifted these beasts, who are almost all sloths, with everlasting life. They walk the Bat’yan as something otherworldly, more akin to the nature spirits of the Seelie than their original forms.

When a willful creature acts to protect nature in the Bat’yan, they may earn the notice and approval of the Kapre Druids. However, if one takes from nature too greedily or commits wanton acts of destruction against old trees, one risks their wrath. Those with a relationship to nature one way or the other will sometimes look through their window at night to see one of their broad silhouettes, and smell the faint aroma of the cigars they smoke.

When one earns enough of their attention, they are scooped up into the Kapre Druids’ enormous clawed hands and carried into the night. In the middle of Kal’oro Grove, good people are said to be gifted with a wreath made from precious golden leaves that only grow within it. Evil people are transformed into twisted, squawking crosses of three different beasts, and let loose to totter through the rainforest until nature reclaims them as a meal.

Linang
One of the largest Causeway rings in the Bat’yan is in the region of Linang. The road splits at its entrance, until eventually joining to continue south toward the mountains. Unlike in most places, Linang’s road is at the top of a solid wall to prevent animals from ruining the precious land in its center.

The Ring-Towns of Linang have a small-town atmosphere that never ends. Sporadic buildings and friendly people dwell all the way around both sides of the ring. They take elevators down to the farms below every morning and ride out to the protected fields within. The only wildlife that can get in are colorful rainforest birds, which have become a symbol for the Ring-Towns.

Parts of the Linang farms have been devastated by the Dungeon’s repeated incursions. A stretch of several miles on the Causeway is nothing but abandoned buildings, a dead zone of the former homes of relocated families. Linang hopes to find a way to prevent its intrusion into a localized area, so that the lands claimed by monsters might be returned.

Malduta Estuary
The largest river in the Beast World meets the ocean at the very tip of southern Arneria. The lush estuary spans fifty miles, as wide as it is long. The Attamek fragments into criss-crossing streams, depositing nutrients into the fertile land and transforming the region into a stretch of coast that is beautiful, but waterlogged. Only tiny personal vessels can travel through the meandering shallows, making it an ideal place to evade unwanted attention. Smugglers, thieves, and other castoffs from polite society use the cover of the Malduta to duck the law among the ducks.

Mitalu Swamp
The rainforest is filled with a hundred distinct cultures and peoples. There are followers of long-forgotten sects of Pirhouanism, worshippers of the god of knowledge Yttrus, and people of every other sort. You don’t need to go to Mitalu.

A few villages among the multitude of barangays reject outsiders altogether. They marry among their own and keep a close-knit, little society they understand well. These barangays don’t have any stake in larger Arneria. They prefer to be left to their own affairs, just as they have for centuries. Treat Mitalu as one of them. Ignore any invitation.

Some of the wetlands of the Bat’yan are a hiding place. A little conclave of tenebrines swim in their murky waters. They sometimes emerge from a dark place, with hangers-on far worse than any leech. Some of the beasts out there have good reasons to stay away from paladins and anyone else who can sniff out the perversion of a fiend. They want nothing more than to attract an audience. A few Bat’yan possums play their fiddles from the Songbook, but you don’t want to hear the tune. Don’t go to Mitalu.

The Tugatore
The Matatrono Range is a cluster of stark cliffs and jagged peaks that tower over the southern Bat’yan. A barangay legend says that Pirhoua perched on the highest mountain’s summit, scooping out the Attamek with her finger before carving out the rest of the world. According to those who have stood on this spot, one cannot know the Beast World until they’ve seen it from the top of the Matatrono.

An ancient stone spire named the Tugatore (toogahTOHRay) sits on this apex. Its original builder is unknown, as is its original purpose. Its architecture is unlike that of any surrounding culture; even its masonry is created by an unknown method. Academics travel to the Tugatore to study the engravings that cover its hollow interior, hoping to decipher some part of its history. If asked, a typical mouse might shrug and say “they built it “cause they could.”