SHEIRTALAR

The greatest city of the South, the shining center of the world, the holy city of Lathander, Lord of Light, Creator of Men and Elves, the city of ten-thousand candles.

It sprawls like a white-and-gold scaled serpent along the coast of a wide bay of the Shining Sea, lethargic and senescent in its old age. Secure in its history, culture and birthright, though its days of glory have long since passed it by in all truth except the minds of the empire's citizens.

Still, it remains the largest city of the South, rivaling the greatest cities of the western empires, serving as a port of call for barbarians from the north and east, slavers from the lost kingdoms of south, and traders from the empires of the west.
All goods can be bought, traded or sold here.

 
Like rays from a rising sun, the wide, dusty streets of the city radiate outwards from central points of the ancient city, becoming disjointed and confused where the city has grown in recent centuries, paved there only in dust and packed sand.

Wood and cloth booths crowd the streets, the domain of peddlers hawking their wares to hungry foreigners, even upon the most ancient streets paved in solid marble, worn now by centuries of feet, rain and wind-blown dust, the cries of the merchants rising like the cries of vultures into the hot, moist air.

THE GRAND PALACE OF THE GOLDEN SUN

Great onion-shaped domes cap the white towers which rise over the city, marking the great houses of the nobility, the temples of Lathander, and the Emperor's palace which is the very heart of the empire and focus of the people's lives.

More opulent and far older than Waukeen's temple in the Market, great gardens stretch out around it, and are in turn contained and protected by thick walls and guardians both mundane and (it is said) mystical.

Grand gates are set into the white and rose-hued marble of palace halls, the endless passageways beyond frighteningly easy to become lost within, littered with objects and treasures gathered from centuries of rule and trade and pleasures that no man but the Sun Emperor himself could realize, and everywhere there is light, provided both by candle and lamp, by sorcery and the ancient blessings of the temple.

The palace is the traditional seat of power for the Emperor of Sheirtalar, its vast chambers serving to house not only the Emperor and his throne, but his harem, his children, his servants and his personal guards, advisors, priests and wizards.

For the Emperor is both god and king, the mortal voice of Lathander, higher even than all the priests and living prophets of the empire. His word is law, his decisions, inviolate. He is the source of life, his life is the continuation of theirs.

THE PEOPLE OF SHEIRTALAR

A fading caste system still dominates the mind-set of the people, though it is no longer as rigid and influential as it once was. Still, women are property, without rights or possessions of their own, and unmarried women are never to be unveiled for they would face stoning or worse.
This is their defining trait, that they stratify themselves; you are what you were born from the day you are born until the day you die, from this life into the next, for the people believe they, quite literally, are their ancestors.

Sheirtalarian humans are short and swarthy skinned, with dark eyes and black, straight hair, though very few men have natural facial hair. Overall they appear thin and narrow featured, for Sheirtalarian blood has been mixed with that of the elven peoples since the beginning of time.

Where once blonde hair and eyes of other colors were considered a mark of greatness placed by the Lord of Light, in these times where the blood of the people has mixed with that of other peoples, those who display such are considered less pure.

Concern with purity, that which seperates them -- the civilized folk -- from other, less divinely-blessed and more barbarous folk, is common, and many tales of thieves tell how even they behave in a more civil and "honorable" manner than the barbarians of other lands.

There are a great many social rituals and traditions which center around hospitality towards guests, paying others proper respect and so forth that remain strong among the people. They see failure to observe or lack of knowledge of these customs as signs of lesser intellect and civilization.

THE HIGH TEMPLE OF THE FIRST DAWN

The temple's  needle-like golden spires reach towards the heavens above the airy, open halls and chambers of the east-facing temple, and rosy light spills through tinted glass windows in complex patterns upon the floors.

Lush gardens without walls surround the entire, filled with all manner of flowers and fruits available for those who would have them, tended by the priests of the temple and hiding benches and groves in which to meet, relax or meditate.

Statues and murals depicting the god Lathander as a golden-skinned elf of fine features and benevolent expression, detail the myths of his reign over the dawn, spring and renewal and of the holy writings of the prophets, spread throughout both garden and temple.

The High Temple sits upon the spot upon which Lathander was born at the beginning of time, where dawn's rays first struck the earth, shattering the formless darkness of the before. It is also the place where Lathander was said to have been born in the flesh of a man, as the most holy prophet: a simple temple youth later revealed to be Lathander returned.

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