Morality Plays of the World Above

 In the World Above, the Sun King lays a heavy hand on all aspects of life - in his eunomy, something can either be vaunted, controlled, illuminated, or banned, forbidden, Exiled. 

The theatre is no exception. When you say “actor”, the average law-abiding citizen will think of a charming Chantry officer selected for excellent memory, a clear voice and a likeable manner. Some actors become locally famous, receiving mock-Images and attending all the parties of the gentry. 

The Morality Plays are the perfect opposite of the masked theatre. 

Where masked theatre is improvised, morality plays are stiffly formal and heavily practised. Where masked theatre is crude and vernacular, morality plays are refined and formalised. Where masked theatre is purely for entertainment, the morality plays (naturally) have a different priority. Where masked theatre is open to anyone without something better to do, in the morality plays, only Chantry officers are allowed to step onto the stage. Where masked theatre uses improvised sets on anything tall, the morality plays have dedicated rooms and buildings, and a budget. Where masked theatre is performed in an almost guerilla manner, the morality plays sit firmly and comfortably ensconced within the halls of power. 

Lastly - if a masked play resembles another troupe’s play, then it’s an embarrassment, a waste of an evening and possibly grounds for a brawl. If a morality play does not resemble every other morality play of its type, it’s a failure, an aberration, and possibly the result of some internal Chantry mistake. Due to this, the canonical morality plays are some of the very rare cultural touchstones that are genuinely universal across the world. 

Despite that, it is impossible to repress the creative spirit of the actors and the stagers. A perfect reproduction of a play is impossible, so variance within a certain bound is allowed. This creates a gradient across the kingdom - a play put on in Xiata will be pretty similar to the same one put on in Dramyth, but will probably end up quite different in tone, if not content, from the same play put on in Chelborc. 

Still, some elements are non-negotiable. Actors depicting important figures are never masked, and never hatted either. There are strict rules for costuming - two general costumes for each part of the Kingdom, a man’s and a woman’s, which are usually accurate, if old-fashioned and overdecorated. For example, the Kelkoran Man’s costume is more accurate to what was worn in Okiri about the year 900, but it remains the costume, and probably will never be changed. Each Chantry office will have a couple of each type - they are never identical to each other, but always recognisably of a kind. 

In addition, various accoutrements create Noble, Outlaw, Military, Comital and Ducal variants of each local costume. Then, there are two Signatorial costumes, with accoutrements to indicate the Signatory’s place of origin. Then, there are hooded, nonspecific, drab costumes, worn by a group of five to eight silent actors, to represent a crowd, the Masses. Lastly, there are the Knights’ costumes. The Chantry cannot remove the revered and beloved status of Knights, they can only work around it. 

Cranes, pyrotechnics, loud noises, and other trickery, are thoroughly forbidden. No daimon ex machina. There is a chorus, who introduce, comment, explain and conclude. There are three musicians, who accompany given scenes with the appropriate music (musical notation is not classed as writing, you might be interested to know). 

Actors depicting spirits are always masked, and these masks usually depict expressionless human faces, or animals, and are plain and undecorated. With these, full-body black clothing, black shoes, black gloves, and a voluminous, silhouette-eating black cloak. Even a child in the Kingdom is dimly aware that there are differing kinds of spirits, but no distinction of Kin is made in the play, and very rarely is a title or name given. 

Plays are preserved and passed down as oral tradition, with the help of books of mnemonic images. If your Chantry office forgets a play, it is of course a terrible moral failing, but you can always send a courier to the Capital to receive a refresh on the canonical plays from the master record. 

There is a rhythm to the theatrical year - plays are shown on the last day of every second month, resulting in one in Spring, two in Summer, one in Autumn, and two in Winter. The last play of the year is on the last day of the year, and is always a much larger production - it melds smoothly into the general celebrations that take place at that time. 

Every Chantry office is given dispensation to develop their own morality plays - each individual town, valley or city district will have its own moral needs (and moral failings), of course, so each must have a carefully-considered program of moral education. However, there are twelve universal, canonical morality plays, which all Chantry Offices everywhere will put on. With six plays a year, you might expect to see three of the canonical ones and three of your own local Chantry’s ideas in a given year, and have a gap of about four years before any plays repeat. 

The twelve canonical morality plays are as follows: 

1. The Great Ship, or the Virtue of Initiative
   Set in 960, when the Seriasi Sea is bedevilled by pirates. It’s written up in more detail below.  

2. The Last Three Duels, or the Virtue of Honour
   Set in 1130, in Saral Sar, just before duelling is outlawed. A strange sort of piece, which simultaneously extols those who take steps to defend their honour, and condemns duelling as a stupid and outdated practice. Some Scribes suppose it was supposed to have whatever replaced duelling added in later, as a post facto thing, but nothing ever did. 

3. The Siege of Okiri, or the Virtue of Prowess

Set in 735, a dramatisation of the conquest of the Kelkoran capital, Okiri, by the forces of the King. A war story that ends in Royal victory. Has an unusual element - both General Nadejda Omaciw, a Zzargovi, and the Kelkoran Peshwa, Dipak-Arjun, are presented as possessing the eponymous virtue, and in a sympathetic or even tragic light. Popular for the swordfights. 

4. The Two Artists, or the Virtue of Beauty

Set in 1379 in the city of Chelborc, Two artists compete to paint the most beautiful portrait of the woman they are both suitors to, driving themselves half-crazy in the process. One resorts to the aid of a spirit, and is ruined, the other asks a scribe for help, and is driven mad, but both produce their portraits. Then (in a line aimed right at the audience), the woman’s mother says that neither portrait is as beautiful as her daughter, and sends both artists away. 

5. Signatory Kine Defeats the Pestilence, or the Virtue of Selflessness

Set in 1221, when the Pestilence sweeps Draad. It’s written up in more detail below.  

6. The Burning Years, or the The Virtue of Fortitude

Set 1008 in the city of Palav, during a time of revolt and unrest called the Burning Years. The Tower Knights’ fortress of Svelezot, which was in the middle of Palav, has been burnt down by a mob, and disorder rules the streets (this is a lie - in history, the army burned it down deliberately). The play is honestly sort of a crime drama, following Katrina Aulay, the head of the night watch of Palav, as she attempts to restore order and justice to the streets of Palav. Popular because of all the violence. 

7. Sven the Boat Builder, or the Virtue of Diligence

Set in 1315 in the city of Aikamo, while the city is experiencing a boom. The story of Sven, a good-hearted, uncomplicated, hard-working man who builds boats. While working, he saves a Signatory from thieves, then from murderous outlaws, without failing to complete his tasks. Eventually he marries the Signatory and becomes prosperous and successful. 

8. Young Edith or the Virtue of Chastity

Set in 1400 in the countryside outside Amdusay, in peaceful times. The story of Edith, a young village woman, resisting temptation, living virtuously and carefully navigating the dramas of her home village, and being rewarded for it. Masked players of a vulgar persuasion (so, all of them) and Scribes of a more comedic style occasionally employ the character of Young Edith in a manner intended to, ahem, satire the original moral message of her play.  

9. The Soft Spoken Signatory, or the Virtue of Propriety
   Set in 1380 in the Royal Capital, Irgavio Sol, in good times. Effectively a sort of comedy of manners, following the mild-mannered Signatory Kvast, who navigates through Signatorial life with utmost propriety (a rosy version of it, of course, but with some surprisingly satirical personalities). Light on plot, but (truthfully) pretty witty and funny. 

10. Tis Good to Gift, or the Virtue of Generosity
    Set 1240, in Saral Sar, in lean times. The protagonist, Count Rose of the (fictional) Nuinio County, gives out food and treasure to her subjects to protect them from the depredations of outlaws, mercenaries and spirits who would take advantage of this weakness. She is driven to bankruptcy and hunger by her generosity, but then a direct gift from the King reverses her fortunes and the fortunes of her people, and from then on they prosper. 

11. The Liars’ Reward, or the Virtue of Honesty
    Set in 1320, in the hills outside of Carathis and then spreading out from there. The story of a gang of thieves who steal a portion of the Duke’s treasures, but are caught one by one in various places. Each is sent to Exile, but the last thief, who admits his crime and turns himself in, is given a pardon by the local Chantry office. 

12. The Fall of the Knights, or the Virtue of Piety
    Set in 905, in various places, but primarily in the area of Valentia, in difficult, tragic times. A dramatisation of the Knights’ Rebellion from the Royal point of view. This is the only play which uses the Knights’ costumes. Presents the Knights as good and moral, but possessed and tricked by spirits, and presents them all either slain or Exiled, which is not accurate to history. 

I have written up two of these in more detail below, as illustrative examples of the type of production these things are. 

The Great Ship, or the Virtue of Initiative 

Sets:

• Rozendak Harbour

• Vel Sera Harbour

• At Sea

Characters:

• Dariusz Canario (Costume: Seriasi Man)
  A poor son of Rozendak. Possesses great initiative. 

• Portmaster Prudence Yi (Costume: Seriasi Woman, Noble)
  The master of the port of the Seriasi city of Rozendak. Holds grudges. 

• Captain Courage (Costume: Seriasi Man, Military)
  The elderly captain of the eponymous ship. 

• Portmaster Alfred Jin Unda (Costume: Dradian Man, Noble)
  The master of the port of the Dradian city of Vel Sera. Overly cautious. 

• Leah Edith Unda (Costume: Dradian Woman, Noble)
  The unmarried daughter of the Portmaster. Lonely. 

• Captain Sangue (Costume: Seriasi Woman, Outlaw)
  A notorious pirate of the Seriasi Sea. 

• The Masses, Ships’ Crews 

The Chorus tells us it is the year 960, and the Seriasi Sea is bedevilled by many pirates. Dariusz, a poor docker working in Rozendak, leaps to assist Portmaster Yi during an attack by the pirates led by Captain Sangue. Saving her life, he is rewarded with trust, and eventually a position upon the “Great Ship”, which sails back and forth between Rozendak and Vel Sera with important passengers, materials and messages. 

The ship is attacked by Captain Sangue, and Captain Courage is killed, but Dariusz leaps to take command of the scattered crew, and repels the pirates. They make it to Vel Sera, where he meets the overly cautious Portmaster Unda (and his daughter), who are tormented by the tribute Captain Sangue extracts from them and the city.

Dariusz leaps again, and takes the Great Ship back out, to hunt down Sangue, avenge Courage, and protect the city. He does so, and after an elaborately choreographed final fight, Sangue is slain and Dariusz returns a champion to Vel Sera, where he is made official captain of the Great Ship and marries Leah.  

The End. 

+++++++

Signatory Kine Defeats the Pestilence, or the Virtue of Selflessness 

Sets:

• The City of Dramyth

• The Palace of the Grand Duchess 

• Kine’s Hospital

Characters:

• Signatory Edward Jing Kine (Costume: Dradian Man, Signatory)
  A chirurgeon of Vel Index. Possesses great Selflessness. 

• The Masses, of the City of Dramyth 

• Two Nameless Chirurgeons (Costume: Seriasi Man and Dradian Woman, Signatories)

• High Chirurgeon Mallow Sakhri (Costume: Sarali Woman, Signatory)
  Head of the Needle Charter. Intelligent but overwhelmed. 

• Grand Duchess Jin Elizabeth Hongliang (Costume: Dradian Woman, Ducal) 
  Ruler of Draad. Noble but impatient. 

• A Spirit, Carrying a Brush 

The Chorus tells us it is the year 1221, and the City of Dramyth prospers. Six of the Masses dance to the music. Then, the Spirit enters and begins to “paint” each individual member with the brush they carry. As they are brushed, the Masses stop dancing, then begin to cough, and fall. The Chorus tells us that the Pestilence comes to the city. Some recover, due to the attention of the Chirurgeons (as the two nameless Chirurgeons come on and walk away two of the Masses), but most do not. The Masses who do not recover remain lying on the floor for the rest of the play. The spirit watches from the side of the stage. 

High Chirurgeon Sakhri bemoans that the Chirurgeons can only be in so many places at once. The Grand Duchess appears to chastise the High Chirurgeon, and demands that she work to remove the Pestilence from the city with greater fervour. While they speak, the spirit walks over and paints each with the brush, though neither reacts. 

The nameless Chirurgeons from earlier enter as the Grand Duchess and Sakhri exit, bringing the two recovered Masses. The Chorus explains we are entering the hospital of Signatory Kine, formerly his house. Kine is here, trying to treat the sick (the ones lying on the floor are arranged more neatly by Kine, but still do not rise). The Chirurgeons implore Kine to give up and flee the city with them - it’s a lost cause. Kine rejects this, and says that there must be some way to prevent the pestilence beyond just the miraculous powers of the Needle Charter. While they talk, the Spirit paints the two nameless chirurgeons with the brush. 

The Chorus tells us that the nobility, the signatories, and whoever else can, have begun to flee the city. But Kine remains behind to operate his hospital, regardless of the risk of death. He monologues to the audience his discoveries on the nature and origins of illness - this is how modern, or Kinean, medicine, is explained to the populace. After his monologue, the spirit approaches to paint Kine with the brush, but he holds up a hand, and the spirit silently retreats.

Kine cures the city with his new medical techniques. The Grand Duchess, in recognition of his selflessness, gives him an estate in the city so he no longer needs to sleep in the attic of his hospital. He converts this estate to be a second, even larger hospital. This is a real, true thing that the real Kine actually did, and not even Chantry propaganda. In recognition of his revolutions of medicine, Sakhri makes Kine the new High Chirurgeon and retires. 

The End. 

G L Å U G U S T 2 0 2 6

GLÅUGUST HAS PASSED AROUND THE SUN 

HELLO. LAST TIME I RAN GLÅUGUST, IT OUTPERFORMED MY EXPECTATIONS AND I WAS PLEASANTLY SURPRISED. THIS GAVE ME CAUSE TO SUPPOSE THAT MY SUPPOSITION ABOUT THE CAUSE OF THE -- I'LL CUT OFF THE RAMBLE.

IN SHORT, YEAH, AUGUST SEEMS TO WORK. HERE WE ARE AGAIN. 

CHALLENGES WORK LIKE THIS: THEY’RE 1d6 LISTS OF SHORT PROMPTS. YOU CAN ROLL 6d6 AND GET A SET OF SIX CHALLENGES TO COMPLETE. OR YOU CAN JUST LOOK AT THIS AND PICK ONE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN I GUESS.

CHALLENGE 1 (These prompts realised from cryptic hints in the histories by Phlox)   

1. Magic Amulets.
   
   
2. Review Another's Blogpost.
   
   
3. Spells of the Evil King.
   
   
4. Sequel to a Blogpost from Last Year (Yours, or others').
   
   
5. Primates.
   
   
6. Water Levels.

CHALLENGE 2 (These prompts seen by Prime, high in the strange heavens)

1. Deicide dungeon.
   
   
2. Frightening anachronisms.
   
   
3. Guest stars!
   
   
4. Breathing new life into an old post.
   
   
5. Books as treasure. No spellbooks.
   
   
6. Classic monsters as classes.

CHALLENGE 3 (These prompts reflected from the faceted gem held in the hand of Purple.) 

1. Resurrection magic.
   
   
2. Perpetual motion.
   
   
3. The many qualities of night air.
   
   
4. Futility of categorization.
   
   
5. Fractals and intricacy.
   
   
6. Dracula!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHALLENGE 4 (These prompts retrieved by Semiurge from the demiplane of prompts.) 

1. Non-Lovecraftian cosmic horror.
   
   
2. An unusual crop.
   
   
3. Tree dungeon.
   
   
4. A lost spellbook, its contents, and the factions/individuals that vie for it.
   
   
5. Some roadfreaks for a passage that isn't a road - canalfreaks, hyperlanefreaks, portalfreaks, etc.
6. System for legal arguments in a court of law.

CHALLENGE 5 (These are Doc's Glåugust prompts, and she'll chose the movies.) 

1. Write a location where roughly 80% or more of the language is directly lifted from a single author or poet (they can't be a ttrpg writer, don't be dull). Like this.
   
   
2. Post a timeline of the near, far and distant future of one of your precious pet settings.  
   
   
3. Write the last post on your blog, which is also how one (or all) of your worlds will end. you can write other posts after this one! but whenever you hang up your hat, (or die), people can reread this post and know it was your last one.
   
   
4. Cottonmouth your pet system so it is synonymous with one of your settings. Here is what Cottonmouth is and here is one way you could do that.
   
   
5. Make like Garamondia and post a capsule game.
   
   
6. Introduce something to another blogger's setting that fundamentally alters it. They MUST incorporate this change, so get permission first and don't be a pill.

CHALLENGE 6 (These prompts blew out of the fairy forest and landed on my house.) 

1. A short class which is absolutely not a fighter, not a wizard, not a cleric and not a thief. 
   
   
2. You're heard of microclasses, right? What does a megaclass look like?
   
   
3. A short adventure about printing presses. 
   
   
4. A short class with four A templates, which can be taken in any order. 
   
   
5. Write about the effects of in-world fashion or clothing on your elfgame. 
   
   
6. Select an artistic movement, and make a dungeon in reference to the works or habits of that artistic movement. Painting, writing, music, all work. The only forbidden thing is referencing artistic movements from TTRPGs, because that is too easy. 

SPEEDRUN MODE: Do every challenge in 500 words or less.

If you complete all six challenges, link your six (or more!) posts in a comment, and I'll put you into a roundup post sometime in September!

Hats of the World Above (Firmament)

 I said I was taking requests for Firmament posts, and Vayra (after observing that hat culture in 2005 was fucked up, for semirelated reasons) inquired after a Firmament hat culture post. 

Here is that post.

THE GRAND DUCHY OF DRAAD

Broad-brimmed hats are the standard in Draad, for anyone who likes to be anyone. Light-coloured, or light-coloured on the underside, they once suggested a solaresque halo. Among the well-off, these are felted, or made of expensive material, while among the ordinary population, they’re usually straw. Wealthy women sometimes attach a shoulder-length veil of translucent silk to the brim. The broad brims are a very iconic Dradian thing, and they have been wearing them for quite a long time, with the usual and expected shifts in fashion, and so forth. Currently, wearing feathery plumes is de rigeur, but a few decades ago, having a plumed hat marked you as a puffed-up fool or a brigand. 

These types of broad-brimmed hat, with a slightly taller crown and a saffron-coloured band, have made the jump from Dradian to World-over as the hats of Captains in the Royal Army. 

The children of ordinary subjects generally wear a small, brimless, bell-shaped hat, which is designed to be hardwearing, practical, and a blank canvas. Some people jokingly call this an eggshell or hatchling hat. Embroidery is a very highly-regarded skill in Dradian society,  and children are encouraged to pick it up by decorating their own hats. Of course, the smaller-scale brimmed hats worn by children of the nobility are rapidly, densely covered with embroidery by the servants, to give the young master or mistress the appearance of diligence, intent and skill. 

When Draad still had its many hilltop and island monasteries, the monks wore a squarish little hat, sometimes called a monk’s box, or a monkhelm hat. In the century leading up to the dissolution of the Dradian monasteries, the monkhelm gained about a foot of height, and the occasional white pom-pom, but before that, it was a low, small, humble sort of hat. Nuns at these institutions usually wore something like a heavy wimple. Modern Dradian Scribes sometimes affect monkhelms and wimples, although usually only in private, since you don’t want to wear a hat that makes you easy to identify and arrest on the street. 

All across Draad, but especially in the great plains of Torni and Atiyong, headmen wear tall, broad-brimmed hats, with a sturdy band. This band is used to decorate the hats with freshly-harvested crops, when it’s possible, as a boast of agricultural productivity. A crown of wheat for the alderman - this tradition is believed to be very ancient. In places where the village has become a town, and the farmers have become artisans, the decorative crops have likewise become embroidery, or brass. 

The stereotypical hat in the western Duchy of Iridia is the bycocket and relatives, or chapeau á bec, as an Iridian would call it. A little cap with a brim formed into a beaklike protrusion, they have the mien of a hunter or a poet, at a glance. Iridian fashion is popular at court at the moment, so a lot of young gentlemen, ladies and signatories are wearing bycockets and disdaining the old broad-brim as a fatherly, dour sort of hat. 

The hats worn by the Idami, the people of the mountainous hinterland of Ida, are more similar to Magnite hats than to those of “other Dradians”, aside from the shared habit of agricultural decorations for village headmen. 

Some hasty sketches of the above, for Vayra.

THE DUCHY OF DEFIANCE (FORMERLY, SERIAS)

Coastal Seriasi (especially men) have picked up the Dradian habit of broad-brimmed hats, due to long centuries of trade and influence across the Seriasi Sea. All along the coast, it’s fashionable to pin up one side of the brim, and equip oneself with the brightest, most extravagant plume one could possibly find. Sometimes the Seriasi version has a tall, cylindrical crown. The most expensive variants are made of a see-through fabric mesh, also. 

Most Seriasi women will wear a decorated couvre-chef, or kerchief, on their heads, usually to tie back long hair. Many will tail right down to the shoulders. It may be worn around the neck, tied off whichever way you please, if you have short hair. 

As an aside - short hair is always associated with a dangerous profession, at least in the Kingdom-proper. In the civilian society of Draad, Serias, Saral Sar, Arumell and (to a lesser extent), Zzargod and Magnos, both men and women associate long hair with beauty. They cut your hair when you join the army, and soldiers who enjoy the life tend to keep it short from then on, resulting in particularly martial families having a reversed association, considering long hair a sign of lethargy and cowardice. People who are bounty-hunters, night watch, bandits, or hell, even serial duellists, may copy this martial coding. 

In the big cities, especially Zulian and Rozendak, it’s traditional for those whose job is to work with money to wear a “coffer” hat - sort of ovoid, stiff, flat-topped and brimless, with space inside it, and two tassels to tie it on. Some people joke that it’s a form of security to store one’s purse inside one’s “coffer”, for no Seriasi would ever be so rude as to knock off another’s hat. Some people observe this joke became so common, they had to add tassels to keep the damn hats on. 

On the ships which ply the Seriasi Sea, a broad-brimmed hat with a pinned-back brim is preferred by most - in the “bicorne”, “tricorne”, or “square-boat” forms. Hats created with the intent to be pinned back sometimes have a taller, sturdier crown, for a sort of head protection. Some even approach a sort of sugarloaf shape - someone called these tall examples “island hats”, and started putting wave-patterns on the underside that show when you pin up the brim. 

On the inland steppes of Serias, the broad-brimmed hat is impractical for the fast-moving, horse riding fellow. Some wear couvre-chefs, but those disdaining these for reasons of machismo wear a jeździec, a tight-fitting, collapsible, soft and rounded cap, with a fabric “tail” to protect the neck. 

Out in the montane south, especially in the towering peaks of the Far Mountains, a fur hat made from a whole fur-animal is a fashion-statement. Usually, the choice is raccoon, fox or coati, made so the animal’s tail hangs down the side or the back. 

THE DUCHY OF SARAL SAR

Saral Sar shares the tradition of the couvre-chef with Serias, though over here it’s more capacious, (sometimes to the extent of being a headscarf), is worn in a wider variety of styles, and is an entirely gender-neutral garment (which, as you may assume, the masked actors love to use for gags and misunderstandings.) Atop peasant couvre-chefs, you will often find a sun-hat of woven straw or grass, but atop a noble couvre-chef, you may find small decorated hatlets, fancy bands, a circlet, an Iridian-style bycocket, or a cylindrical hat-of-honour. Sometimes, it is worn with a little rounded cloth “beak” that shades the eyes. 

In Idári, they wear a sort of soft, round, flat-topped hat, occasionally with a pom-pom, pin, or short plume. The rest of the world creatively call it an Idári cap, and it would remain a footnote of fashion and history if not for its recent adoption as a sort of uniform by Defiant militias operating along the Defiance/Saral Sar border. They have thus become a revolutionary symbol, and escaped Idári to the east, north and south, like an invasive species. Duchess Serafin of Defiance has even been seen wearing one! 

THE REPUBLIC OF ARUMELL

Hat culture has experienced an explosive shift since Arumell’s revolution began. Previously, an all-black version of a Dradian broad-brim was considered a thing to wear in polite society, but the hats have practically vanished overnight. Now, in the Defiant body which governs the newly-formed Republic, the Nova Senate, hats of a rustic and/or Kelkoran character have taken charge. 

A few centuries ago, the black broad-brim was adapted into the walder hat. In paintings, you can see the slow transformation - every bit the brim narrows, the hat’s crown gets higher. Once the brim has become only an inch wide, and upturned in the back, the cane-reinforced walder is about the height of the wearer’s head. Sometimes they have a little pin in the front, sometimes this pin is replaced by an identifying medal, if the hat is a professional one.  These are worn by serious gentlemen, skilled artisans, by foresters, by members of night watches and schutterijen, and by sergeants, ensigns and lieutenants in Arumite regiments. 

Artisans, on the other hand, might wear a dome-topped hat with a downturned brim of sensible width, usually made of a heavy felt or similarly hardwearing material. These are called pratiques, and they’re usually undecorated. 

Particularly rustic Arumite peasants in the deep forests and hilly interior wear a tall, pointed, even conical hat, with only a little upturned brim, if one at all. Rarely a proper stiff cone, it’s usually more of a suggestion of the shape. This hat is called an eleveur, and, once thoroughly banned from the city of Chelborc for their rustic character, they are now seen bobbing about the halls of the Nova Senate on Defiant heads. The eleveur is subject to wide mockery outside of Arumell, and defensiveness within it  - out in Defiance and Draad, masked theatre troupes love to equip themselves with these, do their worst Arumite accent, and complain ‘ow saam-one ‘as go’tten into ze turneeps agayne! 

Along the western side of Arumell, the hats become increasing Kelkoran as you approach the border. 

THE HEPTARCHY OF MAGNOS

No taxonomy can quite capture the sheer evolutionary variety of the Magnite rain-hat - the most common one is wide, and flexible enough to be rolled up, but stiff straw constructions, resilient wide oiled caps, voluminous hoods, and the like, are often seen. In Kelika, some people wear sort of hooded rain-mantle with a peak, which is pushing the definition of hat, but, hey. 

In the deep marshlands, the Kääpla people, who live in secrecy far from the Sun King's law, wear a wide headband not unlike the Kelkorans do.

Any of the above may accompany the so-called Magnite cap, or headbag, a very simple ear-covering, tight-fitting hood with a pair of tassels to tie it off round the chin. This has a mien of modesty and earnest peasantry. Such a hood is not common among (what remains of) the Magnite nobility, who would prefer to wear hats in the style of their Zzargovi neighbours.

As for the Heptarchs, it is reported by some that they wear disturbing masks, or veils that shimmer like metal. Or a combination of the above. Or just a Dradian broad-brim, the boring bastards...

Of course, in Ayfen, where conditions are wintry year round, the hats are usually fur, or fur-lined hoods, much more like their Zzargovi neighbours. 

THE BARONY OF ZZARGOD

Wrapped chaperons are the common headwear of the nobility of Inner Zzargod, or Ramuth as they call it. These are imitated within economic means by the common people, in the form of long-tailed hoods with chin-tassels. 

In Outer Zzargod, under the cold northeast wind that always blows, a fur hat is preferred for the colder parts of the year. There are seemingly endless variations of the Zzargovi fur hat - earflaps, high crowns, low crowns, buttons to connect to your high collar, face-protectors, and the like. Meanwhile, the warmer parts of the year, an Outer Zzargovi might go for a chaperone or tailed hood, as appropriate to social class, or a Magnite rain-hat, or even, if they are a Baronial Secretary, or wish they were one, a Dradian broad-brim. 

There are two kinds of nomad in Zzargod, the “dusk” nomads and the “grey”, and the only thing they have in common aside from their lifestyle are their hats. A “nomad hat” has a tough cylindrical crown, a stiff, thick brim, and (at the wearer’s discretion) a cloth “tail” attached within the brim to protect the neck. Dusk nomads tend to wear theirs with decorative pins and plumes. In the cities of Zzargod, they say the only decoration the grey nomads put on their hats are small blades sewn into the brims, for use in scuffles. 

THE KELKORA REMNANT

Due to the variety of extant microcultures within the Kelkora Remnant, there is an equal, equivalent variety of extant micro-hat-cultures. The - the hats aren’t micro. To be clear. Unless otherwise specified. To cover all these hats would be the work of a milliners’ lifetime, and it has been. Here are some notable trends, though. 

In the wide mountainous expanse of northern Kelkora, wide patterned headbands are the most common headgear, tied low behind the head. The style in which one wears them can convey a lot, as can how they are decorated. These headbands have (in reference to the martial reputation of the northerners) become standard headgear for the average Kelkoran soldier. 

Along with the wide headband, the iconic cross-Kelkoran hats are: A cone-topped rain-hat with a slightly upturned brim (most Kelkorans consider these practical, but old-fashioned and embarrassing), a fur-lined winter hat with various decorations, and an ornamented headband with a tall upstanding section in front of or behind the head, worn by nobles. These have as many different names as there are towns in Kelkora. 

In and around the old capital, Okiri, the current fashion is for a scarf worn tied up on the head, sort of like a chaperon. For the serious sort, plain cloth and without any “tails”, for the lighthearted, they are tailed and patterned. This only came in a few years ago, but Defiant soldiers are posing for portraits wearing them - with the captured broad-brims of Royal captains held in their hands. The Governor’s staff have learned to avoid anyone wearing a “tiger-striped” headscarf. 

In Neydes, on the Arumite border, a Kelkoran cousin of the eleveur occupies heads, consisting of a shorter, woolier cone. It's neighbours with a hat not dissimilar to the pratique, save its flat top. 

In Udo (whose sub-culture is even more distinct from the rest of Kelkora than the rest), the most favourite festival headgear is a crown of living flowers or leaves, but when such a thing is unavailable, a “hat of petals”, made of many small cloth petals stitched to form a sort of shaggy lamellar cap, is resorted to. Many other Kelkorans find these things incredibly goofy, and even in Udo they go in and out of fashion regularly. 

In Sillai, they wear a little brimless hat with a stiff band and a soft top. Usually brightly patterned. Creep south from there, into the area around Ythak, and the soft top becomes longer, flopping over to the side. South from there, in the lands called Uloriak, the cap’s soft top is even more capacious, and is worn off to the side of the head. Uloriak hats can be taken off and used as an excellent bag. 

And in the old, sleepy town of Surek, anyone of high society wears a small, dome-shaped hat on the top of their head, kept in place with long strings and decorated with lake pearls. I suppose you could refer to it as a micro-hat. 

THE ROYAL DEMENSE

In Aktia, northwest of the capital, the hats are black broad-brims, like the pre-revolutionary Arumites - for now, anyway. The monstrous eleveur, top-cone and dirty with potato mud, slouches inexorably towards Vanborc. 

In Adria, northeast of the capital, the hats are exactly Dradian, aside from the towering cylindrical hats worn by village headmen, old-fashioned nobles, and local brigadiers, majors and generals of the army. These are sometimes decorated with circular gold medallions, or many hanging silver pieces - if you don’t know a silversmith, you can make do with silver talents with a hole put through them.

In Sana, south of the capital, the hats are a mix of Sarali and Seriasi. You might see a couvre-chef under a plumed broad-brim, or a frightening hybrid of the Idári cap and the jeździec referred to as a “Sana courier”. 

In the capital itself, by a rule of manners, nobody covers their head - the only thing on anybody’s head is the crown, and only on one head does that crown rest. 

EXILES

When one is Exiled from the World Above, one is always deprived of one’s hat.