The Sanctuary Tower of Gar-Rahman

Mana dominates the Mortal Plain. It changes flesh, soul, wind and stone in ways both minute and monstrous. Nowhere is this shown in a more extreme light than in the lands of Gar-Rahman and nowhere is mankind’s persistence in the face of challenge illustrated more clearly.

Gar-Rahman is a region where the effects of Mana on things of an unliving nature are seen most starkly. Where in one century there might be sprawling jungles, the next might hold a scorching desert. Mountains rise and disappear within the span of a single human life, while oceans turn to swamps and then fertile grassland in an even shorter period.   Climate is in a very similar flux, switching from mild to artic cold to corroding poison, upward rains of molten salt and more. That human life has even endured here is a miracle in of itself. But the Radmani are not just surviving, but thriving, boasting a culture that can trace itself back many thousand years. That it has been able to do that is in no small part to the pinnacle of Radmani ingenuity: the Sanctuary Tower.

Standing at the very centre of the everchanging lands, the Sanctuary Tower is an imposing sight. Almost as tall as a mountain and as wide as ten galleons put next to each other, it dominates all but the most deranged of landscapes. That is just about all the description one can give. At least, if they want it to hold true for longer than a century. For the Sanctuary Tower changes with the landscape around it.

Inner Core   The main pillar of Gar-Rahman is its inner core, a section which is made up entirely of a special form of liquid steel kept in line by a vast net of arcane runes. It can withstand the heaviest shocks of earth and wind, its walls near impenetrable by even the most acidic of rains. Here the people of Gar-Rahman keep their most important halls: archives that contain the combined knowledge of millennia, manufactories that produce all they require to live, and at times even farms should conditions outside not allow for food production.   Space is limited, however, even with the aid of magic. Only a part of the Radmani population is able to take shelter there. The rest has to make do in the outer layers and hope that the deranged forces of nature outside do not become too overwhelming. For the stange material that was used to build the inner core was limited and everything else, while magically reeinforced, had to be created from far more mundane substances. Sometimes, the assault grows too strong and parts of the tower break. Hundreds die in the incident and ensuing exposure. But the core remains standing. And as long as it does, there is hope that the Radmani may endure.

Even magic cannot create matter from nothing and so the Radmani, for all their control over the arcane, are forced to rely on one of the most mundane of practices for survival: recycling. Whenever the outer shell has to be remodeled, repaired or renovated, the Radmani collect every single scrap of material possible. Complex process inside their factories and laboratories enable them to reuse everything down to the last grain.   Space is similarly used to its fullest extent. Every nook and crany holds something that is of use, even if means that conditions can be cramped. But the Radmani have become masters of room design. Some range across multiple levels, others allow you to cross them only on ladders hovering precariously in the air.   Water and air circulate through an intricate filter system. Even ages where there is no air to be found in Gar-Rahman or water is as rare as a fully sane mage, the people of the tower will not suffer a lack of either. Mana driven air conditioning ensures that even temperatures capable of melting steel have no bearing on those inside.   Cyclopean Endurance   Thanks to their sanctuary, Gar-Rahman and the Radmani have endured for over two thousand years, weathering every storm that nature, and worse, has thrown at it. As such it is perhaps the only building on the Mortal Plain that has taken more damage than any of the Arcane Hierarchy's great spires. Few know why the Radmani insist upon living in what is likely to turn from heaven to hell in a matter of moments.