There is, they say, a city at the center of the universe, Ossus, the home of the gods. Or, at least, there was such a city, and there were such gods. Today, Ossus is but a shadow of what it once was - the gods are dead, and mere mortals play at politics amongst the wreckage of their bones - and yet it is the greatest metropolis of all time, the melting pot of a thousand worlds.
There is no ruler of Ossus; who could claim power over such a multitude, let alone the graveyard of the gods themselves? Instead, power in the city is divided along a thousand lines, from the ward-barons whose territory would be a great city in any other context, to the guildmasters, who can claim no territory beyond their guildhalls but hold the allegiance of a hundred thousand. The guilds of Ossus are not so simple as their counterparts in other lands - they answer to ancient rules, laid down by the first men to return to the center of the universe. The Guild of Ironworkers is not made up merely of smiths, but of all within the city who work with iron, as tools, weapons, or as a raw material, and iron is their right alone. The Thieves Guild is much more reputable than its name would suggest, being composed of anyone who is paid for goods they did not produce themselves.
