Tiberia
Tiberia is a sprawling steampunk metropolis, a place where brass and magic intertwine and the streets echo with the hiss of steam vents and the whirr of arcane engines. A city of ingenuity and secrecy, it rises from the mists of the Timeless Plane like a mechanical behemoth. While industry thrives, its cobbled alleys and neon-lit districts hide criminal syndicates, forgotten magic, and ancient conspiracies. While the city thrives on innovation and wonder, those who delve too deeply into the past often vanish quietly and efficiently. The truth of the city's origin is a buried secret, protected by both time and those who believe it’s better left forgotten. Still, the Spire pulses. The Breath Below stirs. And the deeper Tiberia reaches for progress, the more the past begins to awaken.
Demographics
Humans – 45%
Dominant in politics, industry, and The Clockwork Consortium. Humans hold the majority of administrative and trade positions.
Dwarves – 15%
Well-respected for engineering prowess, many dwarves serve as senior artificers, mechanics, and foremen in the Gutterrings and Chimeforge districts.
Gnomes – 10%
Deeply integrated into the city’s technological and magical advancements. Many gnomes are inventors, enchanters, and professors in the Aether Spire’s inner sanctums.
Elves – 8%
Historically connected to the region. Now, a marginalized group is often relegated to menial roles or isolated enclaves in the outer wards.
Half-Elves – 7%
Face discrimination from both elves and humans. Often live in transitional zones like the Iron Veins and work in courier services, repairs, or as scavengers.
Warforged and Constructs – 5%
Slowly gaining recognition as sentient beings. Some serve voluntarily in civil service or security, while others live in the Gutterrings’ outskirts or Chimeforge for sanctuary.
Tieflings, Dragonborn, and Others – 10%
Often viewed with suspicion or curiosity. Their roles vary greatly—some thrive as mercenaries, exotic performers, or specialists in magical trades.
The People
Tiberia is a sprawling metropolis where innovation and arcane industry draw in a multitude of races, each carving out their niche within the brass-and-gear bones of the city. Though humans make up the majority and dominate the city’s power structure, especially in The Clockwork Consortium and among the merchant elite, the city’s demographic landscape is as layered as its smog-choked skyways.
Humans thrive as inventors, guild masters, politicians, and entrepreneurs. They hold most positions of influence within the Consortium, and their ambition is reflected in the city’s relentless expansion. While not monolithic, humans in Tiberia tend to view themselves as the “standard bearers” of civilization, often dismissing older traditions, including elven heritage, as outdated or irrelevant.
Gnomes are a close second in prestige, particularly within the halls of invention and the realm of magical academia. Known for their eccentric brilliance, gnomes are often behind the city’s most groundbreaking innovations. They are highly respected, if not always understood, and many of Tiberia’s most important patents bear gnomish names. Gnomish neighborhoods are lively and chaotic, full of strange devices, minor explosions, and brilliant color.Dwarves are the backbone of Tiberia’s heavy industry. Their deep affinity for crafting and smithing makes them invaluable in the city’s forges, shipyards, and underground gearworks. Many dwarves live in the Gutterrings, Tiberia’s lowest industrial tier, where molten runoff and forge heat are daily realities. Though respected for their craft, dwarves rarely climb the social ladder due to their insular nature and dislike of political maneuvering.
Warforged are relatively rare, ancient creations that awaken one by one in the depths of the city’s oldest ruins or are reactivated through forgotten forges. Some serve willingly as enforcers or mercenaries, while others seek autonomy and purpose. Their presence unsettles many, especially traditionalists, as their very existence blurs the line between invention and life.
Halflings form the city’s service and artisan class. They often work as skilled laborers, cooks, innkeepers, and couriers. Though generally treated well, halflings are rarely taken seriously in political or arcane circles, despite being fiercely loyal and community-driven. Their districts are known for vibrant street life, cozy aesthetics, and underground networks of trade and gossip.
Tieflings and dragonborn are uncommon but increasing in number. Tieflings are often distrusted due to old superstitions and are pushed to the margins, where many form tight-knit underground communities or criminal syndicates. Dragonborn, on the other hand, are often seen as exotic mercenaries or wandering sages, depending on their demeanor. Most seek purpose and respect in a city where they are rarely offered either.
Elves and Half-Elves: The Marginalized
Tiberia was founded on the ruins of an ancient elven city. The original elven inhabitants were either driven underground, forced into hiding, or assimilated under duress during Tiberia’s industrial expansion. This historical conquest remains a sore spot, especially for elven historians and druids who claim the ruins contain ancient sacred relics. Elves are often stereotyped as "backward mystics" or "archaic dreamers" in a city obsessed with progress and pragmatism. Many live in Verdant Hollow, a decaying forest enclave kept alive by overgrown remnants of elven magic—mostly hidden and half-forgotten in the Lower Tiers. Half-elves live in social limbo—distrusted by humans and pitied or scorned by pure-blood elves. They're often street-smart survivors, or reluctant collaborators working jobs few others want.
Social Tensions
Social tensions in Tiberia simmer just below the surface, threatening to boil over as the city's industrial progress continues to erode its elven past. Elves, displaced from their ancestral region during Tiberia’s rise, now inhabit decaying districts, where remnants of their once-glorious culture struggle to survive. Half-elves, caught between two worlds, face daily discrimination and are often consigned to menial jobs or overlooked entirely by both human and elven society. Skirmishes occasionally erupt in the streets between elven preservationists and city enforcers, particularly when Consortium expansion projects threaten hidden groves or sacred ruins. Access to education and guild membership is heavily skewed against them, fueling resentment and whispers of rebellion. Meanwhile, rumors of a hidden resistance movement—comprised of disenfranchised elves and radical half-elves—begin to spread through the undercity, challenging the harmony The Clockwork Consortium claims to uphold.
Crime
Crime in Tiberia is not a shadow that merely clings to the alleys—it pulses through the city’s very arteries, woven into the brass and steam of its sprawling infrastructure. In a city powered by magic and machinery, the line between innovation and exploitation often blurs. Crime isn’t simply a nuisance here—it’s an ecosystem, one shaped and sometimes even maintained by the very factions vying for power.
Tiberia’s layered districts make it easy for crime to fester. From the ash-choked Gutterrings below to the shimmering arcane markets of Skyport Zephyria, every level has its vice. Smuggling, magical contraband, stolen schematics, illegal constructs, counterfeit enchantments, and identity-forging through arcane tattoos are just the surface of the city’s underbelly.
Temples & Faith
In the sprawling metropolis of Tiberia, faith is not dead—but it has been reworked, reforged in bronze and steam, and cast in the mold of innovation. Gone are the grand cathedrals of old stone and stained glass, replaced by sanctuaries that hum with aether currents and glow with softly pulsing sigils. Worship in Tiberia has adapted, woven into the rhythms of industry and arcane experimentation. Here, the divine is not distant and untouchable—it is practical, invoked not with incense and chants alone, but with copper circuits and burning ambition. Some cling to the old gods, their temples tucked into the shadowy crevices of the city or hidden among the lower levels of ancient stone beneath the mechanical scaffolding. Among these, Valeria, the goddess of valor, still Commands reverence from soldiers and enforcers. The faithful of Symphonius raise hymns in retooled amphitheaters, their voices accompanied by automaton orchestras. In the depths of the Chimeforge, whispers of Nyx can be heard in the silence between gear-clicks—faithful to the night still hold secret vigils, invoking the goddess of shadows and forgotten places. But alongside the divine, a new kind of faith has taken root—one born not of gods, but of gears. The People of the Divine Spark, a rising technotheistic movement, believes that true divinity lies within creation itself. To them, every invention is a hymn, every functioning mechanism a prayer. They gather in workshops rather than chapels, wearing robes speckled with oil and soot, speaking of the Machine Eternal, an abstract force of perfect design that can only be glimpsed through innovation and logic. Even The Clockwork Consortium, for all its claims of rationality and science, cannot escape the pull of the spiritual. Within their hidden sanctums, high-ranking artificers perform ritual calibrations, blending spells with sacred geometry, etching divine algorithms into the core of their constructs. Some say the Grand Artificer consults a divine engine beneath the Aether Spire itself—a machine so ancient and complex that it’s whispered to hold communion with higher powers. Yet, for all its reverence, Tiberia’s faith is fractured. The upper spires embrace progress as the highest form of worship, while the lower districts cling to tradition, fearing what is lost in the smoke of industry. Tensions rise between the old priests and the Divine Spark preachers, and more than one holy war has been fought not with swords, but with sabotage and subterfuge. Faith in Tiberia is not a monolith—it is a machine in motion, its cogs turning with belief, rebellion, reverence, and doubt. In the city where gods are wired into the walls and miracles come on steam, divinity wears a different face with every bell chime.Government
The Triumvirate Council
Tiberia is officially governed by a Triumvirate Council, a ruling body consisting of three powerful figures who represent the primary pillars of the city’s society:- The Grand Artificer – Head of The Clockwork Consortium, responsible for technological and arcane innovation. This individual is shrouded in secrecy and rarely seen, communicating through trusted proxies.
- The Spirelord – A noble representative of the elite families who reside in the upper districts. They handle diplomacy, trade agreements, and uphold traditional values.
- The Guttermarshal – A leader selected from the working classes and lower districts, often backed by the labor guilds. They advocate for industrial zones like the Gutterrings and maintain public order.
Influence of The Clockwork Consortium
Though technically one of three powers, The Clockwork Consortium wields disproportionate control through its innovations, control of energy sources, and private security forces. Their influence is strongest in:- Technological policy
- Infrastructure development
- Surveillance and automated law enforcement
- Arcane research regulations
District Representation
Each major district in Tiberia (e.g., Skyport Zephyria, Gutterrings, Chimeforge, etc.) has a Magistrate who manages local affairs. These magistrates are elected through district guilds and approved by the Triumvirate Council. Magistrates have authority over:- Municipal services
- Local security forces
- Infrastructure upkeep
- Handling citizen grievances
Defences
Tiberia is a fortress of innovation as much as industry, and its defenses reflect the city's mastery of both magic and machinery.
Clockwork Enforcers
- Mechanized guardians patrolling streets and gates.
- Vary in design: some are nimble scout drones, others are hulking brutes armed with aether cannons or shock-lances.
- Connected to a central command relay for coordinated responses.
Citywide Aether Wards
- Powered by the Aether Spire, these arcane energy fields form a layered defense grid around the city.
- Capable of deflecting magical intrusion, scrying, and airborne threats.
- Can be focused into a singular dome-like shield in times of emergency, known as the Radiant Dome.
The Bastion Rings
- Physical defenses consisting of multi-tiered outer walls reinforced with enchanted alloys.
- Equipped with rotating turret towers that fire both mundane and arcane projectiles.
- Access controlled through magically sealed gates with voice-activated passphrases.
Skyward Defense Platforms
- Suspended batteries around Skyport Zephyria that intercept skyships and airborne threats.
- Crewed by elite skyward gunners and automated flak systems.
- Linked to Tiberia’s early warning towers via sonic relays.
Industry & Trade
Tiberia’s industry and trade are the lifeblood that keep its gears turning—literally and figuratively. Known across the Timeless Plane as a crucible of invention and arcano-mechanical mastery, the city has carved a place for itself not merely as a producer of goods, but as a pioneer of progress. In Tiberia, industry is not divided between science and sorcery—it is a fusion of both.
The Gutterrings form the engine of production. Foundries roar with molten metal, crafting gears, chassis, and frameworks for everything from automatons to skyships. Alchemical plants refine rare minerals into arcane batteries and fuel. Aetherforges, powered by siphoned magic from the Aether Spire, imprint enchantments directly into machine parts during their forging—making each piece hum with potential.
Artificers and technomancers operate side by side, developing marvels like:
- Self-repairing constructs
- Voice-activated tools
- Hover sleds for cargo transport
- Spell-infused textiles that adapt to temperature or mood
- Aether-powered constructs and devices
- Arcano-mechanical weapons and tools
- Magical prosthetics and implants
- Clockwork familiars and security drones
- Enchanted alloys and modular spell components
Infrastructure
The entrepreneurial minds of Tiberia have reshaped the city into a marvel of arcane-mechanical brilliance. Innovation and invention are at the heart of daily life, driven by competition, ambition, and the backing of powerful guilds like The Clockwork Consortium. Tiberia’s legendary infrastructure includes pneumatic letter rubes a city-wide network that sends sealed messages in vacuum tubes through the under-city. Automaton couriers programmed mechanical messengers that deliver parcels with clockwork precision. Even sky bridges connect towers and spires, offering dizzying aerial footpaths.
The Skyrail Network
- An aerial transit system of floating rails and levitating carriages powered by arcane magnets and wind crystals.
- Allows travel between the city’s elevated districts, including elite towers and skyports.
Modular Housing Towers
- Tall residential towers built with rotating modular pods that can be replaced, repaired, or moved.
- Popular in the mid-tier districts, these were developed by halfling innovators for adaptable housing during population booms.
- Some towers even shift slightly during the day to follow sunlight or redirect wind.
Leviathan Shipyard
- Located at the edge of Skyport Zephyria, overlooking the clouds.
- Largest shipyard in the Timeless Plane, capable of constructing everything from luxury sky yachts to titanic aether-powered warships.
- Famed for crafting the "Cloudpiercer-Class" Sky Frigates, known for their sleek design, aether cannons, and self-repairing hulls.
- Utilizes floating gantries, enchanted scaffolds, and anti-gravity cranes to work on airborne vessels mid-hover.
Districts
The Sparkspire
High above the churning smoke and clang of the lower districts, perched among the gleaming towers and suspended bridges of Tiberia, lies the Sparkspire—the city’s most radiant and elite quarter, where invention meets opulence and the air itself shimmers with the residue of concentrated aether. The Sparkspire Upper District is not built upon the ground, but upon ambition. Here, towering spires of copper-veined stone and glasteel twist skyward like grasping fingers, tethered to one another by levitating walkways and magnetic railways that arc through the skies like lightning bolts frozen in motion. Gilded automatons patrol the boulevards in perpetual cadence, their polished brass exteriors catching the light of the ever-glowing aetherlamps that line the skybridges. These are no common enforcers—they are sentinels of legacy, protecting the powerful from the chaos below. This district hums with the pulse of progress. Every building is a masterwork of technomagic, part palace, part laboratory. Steam vents curl from hidden ducts, perfumed by floral oils imported from far-off planes to mask the acrid scent of machinery. Ornate façades shimmer with shifting runes and illusionary displays—art meets invention in every stone. The air is clearer here, filtered and cycled by massive environmental engines, and even the sky seems bluer, as if the very heavens bend in deference to the wealth and influence amassed here. The residents of Sparkspire are the architects of Tiberia’s future—Consortium magnates, elite artificers, nobles whose family names are etched into the city’s founding plates. They dine in levitating lounges that drift lazily over the Aether Spire’s glowing crown and host salons where discourse flows like fine wine, often interrupted only by the unveiling of a new arcane marvel or whispered political betrayal. Status here isn’t merely about lineage—it’s about what you’ve created, patented, or weaponized. Yet beneath the sparkle and shine, the Sparkspire is a crucible. Competition is fierce, and innovation is both currency and blade. Labs explode, reputations unravel overnight, and deals are brokered in shadows just as often as in boardrooms. Rumors swirl of hidden societies within the district, secret cabals who manipulate the city's fate behind mirrored walls and gilded masks. To walk the Sparkspire is to stroll the precipice of a golden age—or a coming cataclysm. For all its brilliance, it is a place balanced on the edge of hubris. And should the engines falter, or the Aether Spire’s light flicker... the heights of Sparkspire would have a long way to fall.Gutterrings
Beneath the polished grandeur of Tiberia’s shining spires, buried in smoke and soot, lie the Gutterrings—a massive coil of industrial districts wrapped around the city’s foundations like a rusted belt. Here, the sky is a murky smear of iron and ash, and the light of the Aether Spire above is a faint flicker through the haze. If the Sparkspire is the brain of Tiberia, the Gutterrings are its grinding heart—gritty, relentless, and absolutely vital. The district is a labyrinth of clanging machinery, exposed pipes, and ever-dripping condensation. Massive gearworks turn endlessly, powering the factories, furnaces, and forges that feed the city's insatiable hunger for innovation. Steam spills from pressure valves in the streets like urban geysers, and catwalks crisscross high overhead, giving the impression that the Gutterrings were built downward instead of up—each layer tighter and darker than the last. People here move with purpose—or not at all. The scent of oil clings to every surface, and your boots never quite escape the grime. Children grow up fast in the Gutterrings, learning to dodge automaton limbs and pick through junk for usable parts before they learn to read. It’s a place where danger and opportunity walk hand in hand, and survival favors the clever, the tough, and the desperate. But for all its filth and fire, the Gutterrings are alive—a pulsing, breathing organism made of metal and muscle. Street vendors hawk steaming tubes of synth-meat and glowfruit beside scrapyard poets spouting verse atop overturned barrels. Resistance sparks here, too—both in the form of literal electrical discharges from overloaded circuits and in the murmurs of revolution from those who have nothing left to lose. Gutterwrights and greasepriests hold sway in different corners—engine-mystics who chant over broken turbines, claiming to coax life from rusted shells. Inventors of low birth cobble together genius in back-alley workshops, crafting devices that defy logic, powered by fumes, grit, and pure stubbornness. These are the backbones of the city’s underbelly, their brilliance unsung yet indispensable. In the deepest rings—where even the aetherlight doesn’t shine—there are whispers of things lost to time. Forgotten machines that move on their own, strange glyphs that predate the Consortium, and tunnels that breathe like lungs and hum like dreams. Some say the city remembers. And it remembers in the Gutterrings. To outsiders, the Gutterrings may seem like a hell of smoke and noise. But to those who know it, it’s home. Harsh, chaotic, and unpredictable—but honest. It’s where Tiberia’s true soul resides, beneath the gleam, where the sparks fly and the fire never dies.Skyport Zephyria
Skyport Zephyria is Tiberia’s crowning perch, an awe-inspiring port suspended in the heavens like a city unto itself—a sprawling complex of sky docks, levitating platforms, and graceful towers that pierce the clouds like spires of ambition. It is here, above the noise and grind of the city below, that skyships gather like flocks of metal birds, their aether-rigging humming in tune with the wind. The port’s name, Zephyria, is said to come from the ancient Zephyric winds, rare high-altitude currents believed to carry the echoes of forgotten realms. The first artificer to construct a functioning skyship, Lady Selene Vaelstrom, named the port in honor of these elusive winds, claiming they whispered secrets of flight to her in her dreams. Some say her skyship, The Dreamweaver, was the first to ever land upon the platform that would become the Skyport, guided only by starlight and a voice in the wind. Now, Skyport Zephyria is the gateway to the skies, a vital artery for trade, diplomacy, and adventure. Enormous mooring towers stretch high above the platform, cradling ships of every design—from private aether yachts and merchant haulers to towering war-frigates with gleaming hulls and cannon arrays. Clockwork cranes and floating cargo pads load goods with rhythmic precision, guided by dockhands who move between vessels like dancers, balancing on gravity-defying walkways and rope ladders swaying in the wind. The air is alive here: filled with the scent of ozone and hot brass, the low hum of aether engines, and the cries of skyfarers haggling over docking fees or calling for crews. Aether-beacons pulse like stars, guiding incoming vessels safely through the ever-shifting currents above Tiberia. It is a place of constant motion, where borders mean little and fortunes are made—or lost—within a single voyage. But Skyport Zephyria is not merely mechanical—it is ceremonial. Each ship that arrives is met with a flare of colored light, signaling its origin or affiliation. High-ranking Consortium officials and nobles host airborne galas aboard their skyships, while diplomatic envoys disembark under veils of glamoured mist. Guilds vie for docking priority, and rumor flows faster than the wind between airships. And yet, for all its prestige, there is still danger. Pirates sometimes slip through under illusion, and more than one ship has gone missing after departing on a “routine voyage” into the Aetherlanes. Beneath the grand façade, smugglers and black market mechanics find quiet corners among the older, unguarded docks. Skyport Zephyria is the breath between earth and sky, the edge of the known world. It is a place where maps end and dreams begin—where to walk across its shimmering platforms is to stand on the precipice of the unknown, and to leap is to chase destiny itself.Chimeforge Market
Nestled deep within the ancient bones of Tiberia, beneath layers of brass girders and aether-fed vaults, lies the Chimeforge Market—a subterranean bazaar unlike any other, where magic and machinery dance to the rhythm of sound. It is a place that thrums with a pulse not entirely its own, as if the very stones beneath the stalls remember music from an age before memory. The market takes its name from the Chimeforge, a legendary harmonic furnace said to be hidden in the depths below, where molten alloys are tuned with resonance instead of heat. Every structure, every stall, every pipe and post in this market is acoustically reactive. Footsteps echo with strange tonal shifts, voices ripple into harmonic trails, and the clang of a blacksmith’s hammer rings with haunting precision—as though the metal itself is singing back. Light is scarce, save for the soft glow of resonant crystals embedded into the ceilings and strung between the rows of vendors like floating lanterns. The stalls are tight and irregular, shaped not by design but by the whims of the caverns and the engineers who dared tame them. Pipes hiss softly in the shadows, carrying both steam and sound, and distant gears grind in time with the quiet melody that always seems to linger in the air. This is not a market for the mundane. Here, vendors hawk voice-activated lockboxes, sound-woven cloaks that shimmer when you speak, and chimes that reveal illusions when struck in certain keys. Tinkerers offer freshly brewed arcano-mechanical elixirs in brass flasks, and alchemists whisper secrets into enchanted bottles that only open when the right song is sung. Street performers—some human, some automaton—lure crowds with strange music that seems to shape the very air, bending light and shadow in their wake. But Chimeforge is also a place of secrets. In the quieter alcoves, behind velvet curtains and brass beaded doors, information flows like smoke. Spies from the Nightshade Guild meet informants under the guise of music duels. Rebel crafters sell forbidden blueprints scrawled on copper sheets. It's said that even the Consortium's black market acquisitions team operates here in hushed tones, dealing in prototypes too unstable—or too powerful—for the public eye. The Chimeforge Market does not sleep. It merely changes tempo. By day, it is a noisy tangle of invention and trade. By night, it becomes something else—a low-lit dream of echo and wonder, where the music of the deep city guides the bold, tempts the greedy, and protects the unwelcome with an eerie hum. To enter the Chimeforge is to step into a place where sound is law, and silence is a lie. Here, in the humming dark beneath the Spire, you don’t just buy and sell. You listen—and hope the Market doesn’t sing your name.Guilds and Factions
History
Tiberia’s origins are shrouded in layers of both grandeur and mystery. Most citizens know the tale: a city of progress and steam, rising from the ambitions of inventors and visionaries. But beneath the gleaming brasswork, winding pipes, and humming arcane engines lies an older truth—one spoken of only in half-whispers among scholars and the city’s most ancient bloodlines.
Tiberia was officially founded nearly five centuries ago, during the early Age of Advancement. It was a time when disparate groups of tinkerers, rogue magi, and steamwrights began settling in a fertile valley rich with strange minerals and arcane energy sources. Drawn to the region’s unusual aetheric resonance, they created a haven for progress and invention. The early founders erected what would become the foundation of the Aether Spire, believing the land itself to be blessed by the gods of innovation.
Recent Events
- A mysterious Old Tongue prophecy has surfaced, hinting at a convergence of steam, soul, and shadow.
- The Consortium is embroiled in internal conflict. T.I.M. is retiring, and the two heirs to the guildmaster’s seat are at odds, forcing factional divides.
Points of interest
The city's most iconic landmark, the Aether Spire, was constructed directly over what appears to be the convergence point of The Breath Below in Elfish "Nael'thera". It channels this unknowable force into every aspect of the city—powering automatons, lighting the gaslamps, and enabling free public spellcasting. While most believe the Spire is a marvel of technomagic, only a few know its energy source is not fully understood, let alone controlled. Some within The Clockwork Consortium theorize that Tiberia’s magic is not “created” at all, but siphoned—pulled from something ancient, powerful, and potentially dangerous buried deep in the ruins below.
Architecture
"Tiberia is a marvel—towers of brass and crystal clawing at the clouds, alive with light and invention. But walk long enough, and you’ll see it: beneath every shining dome is a crack, a scar, a whisper of something older. This city didn’t rise from stone—it grew from bones. Progress here doesn’t replace the past. It builds over it… and sometimes, you can still feel the old world breathing through the cracks."— Ilian Marris, Travel Journal: “Three Weeks in the Timeless Plane” Tiberia is a city born of ingenuity and arcane ambition—a place where metal, magic, and memory fuse together to create a living machine of innovation and survival. From its soaring spires to its soot-stained alleys, every inch of the city is a reflection of both progress and the quiet forces that move beneath it. At the center of all things stands the Aether Spire—a monumental structure of polished crystal and reinforced steel, pulsing with arcane energy. It is here that the city’s true lifeblood is drawn: the Breath Below, a mysterious, ancient magical current that runs deep beneath the Timeless Plane. Harnessed through the Spire, the Breath is refined and distributed through a vast network of aetherlines, feeding the city’s spell-powered technology. From levitating lifts to energy-bound gates, from luminous streetlamps to whisper-activated terminals, Tiberia runs on Breath—not merely as fuel, but as a force interwoven with the very fabric of the city.
A City of Layers
The architecture of Tiberia is diverse and layered, shaped by necessity, invention, and long-forgotten foundations. In the upper wards and newer districts, buildings are tall, angular, and efficient—constructed with crystalsteel, brass latticework, and resonance plating designed to harmonize with the Spire’s energy flow. These structures are powered, polished, and precise, part of the Consortium’s dream of a perfect, self-sustaining city. But as one moves outward and downward, the shine begins to fade. In older districts like the Gutterrings and the industrial cores, the architecture becomes functional but worn—braced with steel, layered in soot, and patched with whatever materials are available. Steam vents hiss from aging walls, and pipes coil like vines across rooftops. Buildings lean on one another like tired workers, held together more by habit than design. Even in these rougher places, the Breath flows—less refined, more volatile, prone to surges, flickering lights, and inexplicable phenomena. Machinery falters, voices echo where they shouldn’t, and strange heat lingers in rooms long abandoned.The Breath Between the Stones
Though invisible to most, the Breath Below winds its way through Tiberia like an unseen river. It hums faintly through floorboards, slips between cobblestones, and pulses beneath iron walkways. At times, it can be felt in subtle ways: A sudden stillness in the air. A warm glow from a stone thought long dead. A feeling that the street beneath your feet is older than the building it supports. The city’s architects have learned to build around it, often without understanding what it truly is. Structures are aligned to ley currents. Energy siphons are placed where the flow is strongest. And yet, beneath the plans and blueprints, something else remains—something unspoken.A Foundation Forgotten
Though little is said of it, there are hints of something that came before. Some alleys don’t follow any mapped road. Some foundations are not of mortal design. Arches too perfect. Stone too smooth. Walls that whisper at night in tongues long lost. Historians speak cautiously of Elaris’thal, a rumored elven city said to have once stood where Tiberia now sprawls. Its ruins, if they exist, are buried deep—perhaps intertwined with the very conduits the Spire now feeds. Some believe the Breath once belonged to that city—or perhaps was born from it. If so, Tiberia’s engines hum not only with power, but with the lingering presence of something far older than its inventors suspect.The City in Motion
Tiberia is not still. It grows. It adapts. It presses forward, always seeking the next invention, the next breakthrough. But no matter how high its towers rise or how deep its drills reach, one truth remains: The city does not stand on stone alone. It stands on Breath. And the Breath remembers.Geography
Tiberia stands like a monolith of metal and mystery at the mouth of the Auraline River, a wide, powerful waterway that spills into the distant inland sea like a silver ribbon. The city stretches along both banks, bridged by steelwork causeways and energy-bound skyrails, its districts rising in concentric rings that spiral outward from the mighty Aether Spire.
The Auraline’s waters once flowed gently through fertile woodlands and ancient glades, but the advance of industry has turned its lower banks into a forest of chimneys, platforms, and riverside docks, churning with commerce, smoke, and the faint gleam of raw aether runoff. Despite the pollution, the river remains vital—a lifeline for trade, a resource of power, and a boundary that splits the city between old and new.
To the east, the land rises in rolling foothills that give way to the imposing presence of Titanheart, a massive mountain with a broken crown of stone and snow. Its silhouette looms over the horizon, a jagged sentinel watching over the Timeless Plane. Titanheart is ancient and unyielding—a place whispered to contain forgotten paths, buried giants, and secrets of the Breath Below that predate even the oldest myths.
Views from Outside the City
Approaching Tiberia from the west, along the Auraline’s waters or the trade roads, travelers first see a skyline of gears and spires silhouetted against the drifting aether haze. The city gleams oddly, unnaturally—a mix of beauty and burden, smoke trailing like pennants from its chimneys, airships circling in holding patterns above. From a distance, the Aether Spire dominates everything—a gleaming shard of crystal and brass that stretches toward the heavens, pulsing faintly at dusk. Its glow reflects on the river at night, a ghostly shimmer that dances across the water like a heartbeat in the dark. Behind it, always watching, is Titanheart—its peak catching the sun long after the city falls into shadow. On stormy days, lightning dances between mountain and Spire like some secret language between ancient things.Views from Within the City
From within, the geography of Tiberia unfolds in layers of tension and contrast. Standing atop the upper levels of the Sparkspire District, one can look down across the layered rooftops and rising towers, the city stretching outward like a mechanical flower unfolding. To the west, the Auraline glints between blocks of buildings, and beyond that, the faint line of the sea. To the east, Titanheart rises like a memory made solid, always visible, always distant—an ancient truth the city can’t quite outgrow. In the Gutterrings, the mountain is just a shape between chimneys. The river is a sound behind machinery. But sometimes, in quiet moments between shifts, when the smog clears just enough, people look up and remember that Tiberia was built in defiance of the land, not in harmony with it. And still, the mountain waits.Climate
Tiberia experiences a temperate climate with distinct seasons, but nothing in the city is entirely natural anymore. While weather patterns loosely follow traditional seasonal rhythms, the presence of the Aether Spire and the Breath Below subtly reshapes the environment.
Summers are humid and heavy, especially in the lower districts, where arcane heat sinks and exhaust from spelltech engines trap warmth like a fog. Days are long and bright above the smog line, while streets below often feel like pressure cookers wrapped in haze.
Winters bring biting cold winds from Titanheart, often cutting through stone and steel alike. Snow occasionally falls in the higher districts, though it rarely reaches the lower Gutterrings, where ambient aether heat keeps the ground just warm enough to turn snow into black slush.
Autumn is marked by blue-gold skies and ghost winds—a season of eerie beauty when the city breathes easiest. It's during this time that the Breath Below surges more actively, and some citizens speak of clearer dreams, sharper foresight, and strange harmonics in the aetherlines.
Spring arrives suddenly and without warning. One day the streets are choked with smoke and frost; the next, arcane mist rolls in from the river, seeding the air with strange lights and blooming moss in impossible colors.
Magical Phenomena & Atmospheric Oddities
The very air of Tiberia bears the signature of the Breath Below, especially near leyline intersections, deep mechanical channels, and Breath-fed infrastructure. This causes minor but persistent anomalies: Glowing fog at dusk that clings to alleys and towers, said to whisper in forgotten tongues. Sparks of cold flame drifting upward from storm drains during aether surges. Localized weather disruptions, like a rooftop blizzard or sun-warmed street existing two blocks apart. Pressure shifts that cause ears to ring or static to dance across skin in certain areas near the Aether Spire. Echo winds—brief gusts that carry not air, but sound, replaying fragments of past voices or events.
Founding Date
1000 AS
Alternative Name(s)
The Clockwork Crown
Type
Capital
Population
200,000
Inhabitant Demonym
Tiberian
Included Locations
Characters in Location
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