The Rasp is a city that welcomes folks from all corners, be they pilgrims or pillagers or saints or sinners—no one asks too many questions. Coin can buy a man a roof riddled with holes over his head and a warm meal made of vermin and crushed up bugs to fill his stomach. In this place, where death is a particularly foggy day, stories of the outside world are as good as silver, like as not.
A dreary pall hangs in the air over the city, as much a product of the people that live there as the Quietus. The inhabitants do not so much walk as scurry from one dilapidated building to the next, along the sorry dirt paths that form the city's feeble arteries.
Visitors learn quickly enough that to tarry beyond the safety of rickety walls and crumbling roofs is to invite the evil eye of both fearless vagabonds and whatever primordial thing the natives believe dwells within the Quietus.
In this city of perpetual twilight, bathed in a sullen gray light that bleaches the world of color, night is a passing thing—a shadow cast briefly from overhead by one of the colossal godstombs as it moves in front of whatever sallow sun shines wanly from beyond the sky. Ephemeral as it may be, night in the Rasp brings horrors of its own when the Quietus stirs and billows along the dirt and the lingering malevolence of dead, forgotten things follows in its wake.
is a settlement situated in the Vault Supernal
. Less a city than a ramshackle collection of dilapidated buildings cobbled together from material salvaged by its inhabitants from the realmhusks
that litter the landscape.
Though arguably the largest of the Vault Supernal's permanent settlements in terms of land area and population, the Rasp is often considered of secondary importance compared to the Architects
' hub of commerce, Yronroost