The Kingdom of Roses
Centered around London, the Kingdom of Roses is a realm in transition, and yet struggling to avoid change. As more and more of the population of the UK clusters within its borders, the old boundaries and fiefdoms seem increasingly dated and inappropriate — and yet the regent, the Troll Lord Edgar Whitestone, sees himself as a caretaker rather than a reformer. In his mind, momentous decisions of this sort should be reserved for the king or queen who will one day succeed him; for him to make them would seem unnervingly close to claiming the throne for himself.
So change is put off again and again, and tensions continue to grow between the nobility and the commoners. The adjoining Kingdom of Chalk has begun campaigning to have some of the southern portions of London placed under its rule, an idea popular with the commoners thanks to the heavy influence of satyrs and eshu in the neighboring realm, but absolutely unthinkable to the nobility, who have no intention of giving up any of the territory that might fall to one of them should they fail to become the new monarch.
Duchies of the Kingdom of Roses
The Duchy of the Sunrise Road
Named after the Thames itself, the Duchy of the Sunrise Road lays claim to all thirty-two of London’s boroughs, even though that claim has grown steadily more tenuous when it comes to the outlying areas. The old duke, Francis Carroll of House Fiona, held things together for far longer than ought to have been possible — mainly because all sides respected his judgment even when they disagreed with him. Commoners grudgingly admitted that his concern for the welfare of everyone in his fief was clear from his actions, even when he favored his own kind; his fellow sidhe lauded his judgment and dignity and conceded that they had after all made great progress during his time as duke.
The new duke, his son George, is evidently cut from different cloth. Rarely seen in the city, rumor says that he spends most of his time at a country estate in north London, more interested in revelry than ruling and therefore leaving the latter to his advisors. Since he succeeded to the duchy, commoners’ concerns have mostly fallen by the wayside, to the delight of the sidhe and the dismay of almost everyone else. Personal audiences with the duke are few and far between, and as a result, a whole cottage industry of speculation has sprung up as to who’s responsible for this shift in policy.
Some blame his lover, the Eiluned Lord Gareth Richards; others his seneschal Lady Cara Nightsky; others insist that a Shadow Court cabal has seized control and that the real duke is languishing in prison. Still others scoff that no conspiracy theory is needed to explain why a spoiled sidhe isn’t a particularly good ruler. The truth of the matter remains unknown, but the southern and eastern baronies grow more restive by the day.
The Duchy of the White Cliffs (NPC)
Composed of those fiefdoms of the Kingdom of Roses that lie to the southeast of London, White Cliffs borders the Kingdom of Chalk, and there is a long history of antagonism between the two. Duchess Lianna of the Blue Sword has encouraged that, and, although she’s been careful to couch it in terms of friendly rivalry rather than deadly enmity, these things do tend to take on a life of their own, particularly when it’s the traditionalist sidhe of White Cliffs on one side and the more egalitarian and commoner-dominated fae of Chalk on the other. Relations are rapidly trending toward the icy, and that may partly explain why the duchess has been more vocal of late that Havering, Bexley, and Bromley ought to be annexed to her fiefdom rather than remaining part of Sunrise Road. There’s real doubt as to whether these areas would go quietly, though, especially when the commoners fear they’d end up caught in a war they want nothing to do with.
The Duchy of the Fenlands (NPC)
Northeast of London, along the Channel coast, the Fenlands are something of a rustic backwater by the standards of the Kingdom of Roses. Popular opinion has it that the main, and perhaps only, reason that Jewel Buckland, the Eshu duchess, hasn’t been replaced is that all the plausible sidhe candidates have refused the job, seeing this fiefdom as a place of perpetually damp, smelly, cold, and unpleasant wetlands without much to recommend them. And they’re not entirely wrong — the Fenlands certainly don’t compare to London, Oxford, Cambridge, or Dover. But it’s not nearly as bad as it’s sometimes made out to be, even if Jewel’s habit of moving her entire court from one part of her domain to another, sometimes as often as every week or two, has led to an absence of the sort of creature comforts that the more citified changelings have come to expect. It’s also an area of great natural beauty, with an abundance of unspoiled wild places of refuge from Banality.
Counties of the Duchy of Sunrise Road
The County of Boadicea’s Tomb
Of the four counties under Duke George, the most powerful and influential — by far — is that of Boadicea’s Tomb, named after the eponymous barrow on Hampstead Heath under which it is headquartered. It encompasses most of central London north of the Thames, as well as some of the outlying baronies to the east and west. As one might expect from a domain so wedded to the old ways that it’s situated under a literal mound (the word ‘sidhe’ itself comes from old Irish aes sídhe, meaning “people of the fairy mounds”), it is an intensely traditional place. The Seelie nobility, and most especially the sidhe, hold virtually unquestioned dominance over its freeholds, its institutions, and its offices. Commoners are treated with a sort of condescending graciousness and benevolence, so long as they’re willing to go along with the sidhe hegemony — but stepping out of line invites harsh, though “fair”, punishment.
The count and his court are not by any means evil people — they sincerely believe that they have the best interests of their subjects at heart, and they may even be correct in that belief. But the Seelie view of duty, hierarchy, and organization doesn’t admit exceptions for things like “individualism” or “liberty”, and they consider residence in their territory to be tacit consent to their particular vision of the social contract. When things are good, things are good — there are masked balls with handsome lords and lovely ladies; tourneys filled with pageantry, valor, and chivalry; art and beauty of such subtle power that even the hardest hearts would weep. But when things go wrong, when duty demands uncomfortable sacrifices, or when transgressions require correction, their unyielding and unbending code has little room in it for mercy. Justice must be done, though the heavens fall.
Daniel Steinbeck of House Gwydion, Count of Boadicea’s Tomb
Now in his mid-thirties, Count Steinbeck is very much an Arcadian sidhe lord in his manner and his attitudes, and his reign has been marked by ongoing efforts to “set things right” in his domain — that is, to restore the manners and modes of the time before the Shattering. He’s met with more success than he probably ought to have — it helps that he is so openly and obviously an upright, honorable man without so much as a hint of avarice or mean-spiritedness in him — but the world has moved on since the days he longs for, and even some of his supporters privately wonder if the count really understands how herculean a task he’s set himself.
Making matters worse is that, while he has his House’s good qualities in full measure, he has the less admirable as well, leaving little room for any of his subjects to be less than the same perfect ideal of chivalry and honor that he himself aspires to. His reign has taken its toll on the independent-minded London fae, and in spite of his high intentions and his unimpeachable honor, relations between commoners and nobility grow more strained with every fiefdom and title awarded on the basis of rank and heritage, and with every punishment doled out for seemingly minor violations of etiquette.
The County of the Fallen Castle
Although in the Autumn world the site of the famous Crystal Palace has been empty since 1936, when the structure was destroyed in a fire, its equivalent in the Dreaming still stands. It’s been the seat of what is today called the County of the Fallen Castle — formerly the County of the Crystal Castle — for nearly two centuries, and is at the heart of the fiefdom that covers the majority of south central London. Unlike its neighbors to the north, the Fallen Castle is an Unseelie-dominated domain, and it shows: the Castle is a far more up-to-date, more cosmopolitan, more egalitarian and individualistic place, where kiths other than the sidhe actually hold significant positions of authority, and where a determined commoner can become a powerful and influential voice.
That, at any rate, is the promise of the Castle. The reality is not quite so rosy: their idea of “egalitarianism” is ruthlessly competitive and Darwinian. While the countess has a highly laissez-faire attitude most of the time, when she does turn her attention to one of her subjects, it’s because she expects her will to be done, and done quickly, whatever the unfortunate victim may think about it. Nor will she act to prevent her vassals from coming into conflict with each other, preferring to let the strong survive and prosper. Yes, it’s a place where Kithain of all sorts can rise to power, but doing so requires both a willingness to stand up for yourself and your viewpoint, and the ability to defend that viewpoint against those who would challenge it. They’re no more evil than their counterparts of the Tomb are … but no less so, either.
Irina Sholokhov of House Aesin, Countess of the Fallen Castle
A dangerous woman to serve, and an even more dangerous woman to cross, Irina Sholokhov, the so-called Snowfall Countess, is over forty years old (and still as heartstoppingly lovely as ever), but has held her current rank for less than half a decade. In that time she has already earned a reputation throughout the British Isles as someone who has demonstrated once and for all that a daughter of Aesin can be just as capable in the political arena as Ailil or Varich. In the face of a fractious population of ambitious and free-thinking Kithain, she’s managed the delicate balancing act required to stay in power while keeping some semblance of order in her domain.
Keeping order, however, is not the same thing as keeping peace. The Fallen Castle is riven with feuds, grudges, and rivalries, and the countess is happy to permit — and sometimes even encourage — them. As long as her vassals are prepared when she calls on them, their affairs are their own business, ostensibly because she believes that ongoing conflict will result in them becoming more useful to her. The more cynical observers believe that she’s actively playing her vassals off against one another to keep them from threatening her rule, and, at least for the time being, it’s working. Whether or not the eventual long-term price for this strategy will be one she can pay is a question only the future can answer.
The County of Cloudy Hills (NPC)
Cloudy Hills (the name refers to the flocks of sheep that once thronged this region of England) is thought of by the city’s Kithain as quiet, sleepy, peaceful and rather dull. Encompassing the Cotswolds and the westernmost parts of Outer London, it’s a place with an oversupply of gentle rolling hills, picturesque market towns, and stately manor houses with beautiful gardens. While it’s a marvelous place to escape the sometimes-overwhelming Banality of the city, the more sophisticated urban fae rarely stay for long, disparaging the local changeling society as rustic and unpolished compared to the splendor of London’s courts.
That perception of the Hills is slowly changing, however. With so much open space and a relatively small population of Kithain, the years since the turn of the century have seen a steady increase in chimerical threats and Thallain mischief, and the Countess has found herself short of resources to investigate the many troubling reports that come to her ears. Among the younger generation, some time spent out in Cloudy Hills is becoming an accepted way to gain experience and test oneself in battle in ways that the more crowded London landscape simply doesn’t afford. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the Countess welcomes visitors from London who can supplement, however temporarily, her own limited forces, and has been known to be generous to those who prove themselves assets.
Lisa Wilkes of House Daireann, Countess of Cloudy Hills
Although she isn’t quite a desperate woman yet, she’s getting closer to it every day. Lisa has held the Cloudy Hills since the late 1990s, when she was still in her early twenties, and for first decade or so it was just what it had promised to be: a prestigious title that more or less ran itself, with a scattering of motleys here and there among the small towns and villages that made up her territory and that rarely, if ever, came in contact with each other. It bred a degree — well, more than a degree — of complacency both in her and in her retinue, which in turn made them slow to recognize the increasing dangers that emerged in the wake of 9/11.
By the time the countess realized that all was not well in her realm, there were already more troubles than could be dealt with by the small number of warlike barons and knights that she could count as allies. Peace and tranquility had reigned so long in the Cotswolds that a noble who knew one end of a sword from the other was the exception, not the rule, and now the need for them was suddenly urgent. She’s managed to keep a lid on things — mostly — by keeping her troops constantly on the move to stamp out the worst troubles as quickly as possible, but that’s also ensured that they’re regularly operating on little or no rest, and sometimes even without sleep. By welcoming young warriors from London who’re out to show their mettle, she’s bought herself time, in exchange for the increasing instability their presence brings. She’s bet her own survival, and perhaps that of the Cloudy Hills as a whole, on being able to get matters under control before a surfeit of ambitious Kithain send things spiraling into chaos.
The County of Gulls (NPC)
Eastern London and the Channel Coast have never truly forgotten the romance and excitement of England’s nautical past, and there’s quite a fashion in the County of Gulls for dressing and acting in ways inspired more by the privateers and pirates who defeated the Armada and sailed around the world. Sailing out into the seas of the Dreaming to hunt sea-monsters, Thallain cutthroats, and worse is still a common pastime, although the excitement has somewhat palled of late, with fewer and fewer expeditions finding anything of note to reward their intrepid explorations.
Truth be told, that suits the nobility of Gulls just fine. The idea that their valor and their fearsome reputation has scoured the nearby seas clean of threats — most threats, at least — flatters their not-inconsiderable vanity, and permits them plenty of free time to boast of their prowess and promenade through the port towns clad in ever more elaborate raiment. Although London fae tend to be just slightly disdainful of Gulls’ pretensions, more than a few of them also make regular trips eastward, whether for adventure or simply to enjoy the seafaring atmosphere.
Peter Tressillian of House Fiona, Count of Gulls
The flamboyant Count of Gulls is everything that’s great about his domain, and a few things that aren’t, to boot. Handsome, witty, a master swordsman, the consummate sailor, and a gifted sorcerer, he’s the sort of person that makes onlookers lament the unfairness of a world that so overloaded him with gifts, even while they admire the result. Berths on his sleek and deadly sailing ship, the Lady’s Slipper, are fiercely contested among young fae out for honor and glory, and though he loses sailors at a higher rate than even his detractors are comfortable with, stories of their exploits in keeping the seas clear are told far and wide.
As an administrator, he’s somewhat less gifted, preferring to handle matters personally rather than leave them to his subordinates, and while sometimes this works very well — his charm and sheer personal magnetism are often enough to resolve even serious disputes — it has also resulted in some urgent matters lingering a bit too long when he’s unavailable to, or unwilling to, deal with them. Still, as long as he continues to enjoy the support (and, indeed, the love) of his subjects, it’s unlikely that there will be anything too problematic for him.
The Tower Bridge Chalice
Four times a year — on Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasad, and Samhain — the fae of Boadicea’s Tomb and the Fallen Castle gather for a hurling match between the two counties. The location is chosen by the winner of the previous match, with no restriction other than that it must be within the bounds of their territory. The winning side gains possession of the physical trophy (an enormous and elaborately engraved silver wine bowl) for the season, as well as getting to choose the site for the next match; it is not unusual for the count or countess to grant favors to especially excellent players.
The match is accompanied by a festival and carnival, as well as a feast and masquerade ball for both teams — all of which are opportunities for the host or hostess to present their realms in the best possible light. As of game start, Boadicea’s Tomb has won the Chalice each of the last five times, but the sudden retirement of their star player, a sidhe noble known only by his moniker of “The Prince in the Grey Jerkin”, has put the outcome of the next match very much in doubt.
Baronies of the County of Boadicea’s Tomb
This section is temporarily left blank to provide space for future PC baronies.
Baronies of the County of the Fallen Castle
The following are London’s current PC-controlled baronies owing fealty to Countess Irina Sholokhov:
Barony of the Shimmering Pools
- Head: Baroness Jannah na-Danaan, “the Twilight Baroness.” (Appears in game as Jane.)
- Location: Watercourse Way, on the Bermondsey riverfront.
- Overview: On the south bank of the Thames is a luxuriant resort of riverfront terraces and gardens, dominated by a magnificent bath-house. Once a docks-area market, the Barony of the Shimmering Pools occupies a bend on the river that’s favored by exotic and beautiful chimeric creatures, fostering an atmosphere of intrigue, admiration and novelty. The surrounding area retains some of its former aspect as a fishing village and dockside with a few seedy back alleys. In all, it’s the perfect setting for personal and Court intrigues, a place where one may come for the sole purpose of being admired.