Well it'd sure make a nice domain. Or you can maybe merge it with Paridon. It has it's own Bloody Jack serial killer, trains, warships, a snobbish ruling class, a quasi India analogue far away and a dark shadow plane intersectin it in places.
The Blight is a City of Despair, Urban Fantasy Horror, and High Adventure by a Master of the Genre
It’s Clark Ashton Smith and China Miéville, Lovecraft and Dickens, Shelley and Carroll all in a festering brew of toil, tears, and injustice just screaming for heroes to clean up the streets (more likely to die—or worse—trying) or anti-heroes to clean up the streets (or at least a little corner in which to set up their own rackets). The Blight is a city that never sleeps but is never fully awake, living in the shadow of its own dark dream. An insane royalty, a corrupt judiciary, a decadent aristocracy, and a half-living proletariat all jumbled together amid a thousand thousand monsters…some of them not even of the human variety. The Blight is the canker sore on the western coast of Akados that the Kingdoms of Foere try to ignore but can never forget, refuse to directly address but always have to keep a wary eye on anyway.
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The Blight is also an urban campaign setting that can be lifted as a whole or in part out of the Lost Lands and placed into your own campaign world as needed for those times when you need a thoroughly decadent and corrupt urban environment but don’t have the time invent one from whole cloth. Portability was a primary concern in the creation of the Blight. Even a little corner of the Blight will provide you with hundreds of ideas and opportunities for enthralling urban adventures in your fantasy roleplaying campaign.
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But enough about what I think the Blight is. Let’s hear it in the words of the madman himself: [insert Richard's thick English accent here]
“The Blight is a city; a vast corpulent, mad, ugly thing, but it is so much more than that. Its veins seep into other places, drawn across the Between, which rips at its fabric and tosses it about like a child throwing a ball. You might find a curiosity shop from the Blight crammed amongst the mighty tenements of some other city, a horrific character staggering along the streets of an otherwise normal town, or perhaps even a whole block perched within another city like a cuckoo in a nest.
Her polite name is Castorhage; named after the grotesque royal family that rules here, a family even worse than those who would depose them. It has been called lots of other names, other oaths have been flung at her and her constituent filthy, chymic poisoned parts. From Sister Lyme to the chaos of Toiltown, through the throttling alleyways of the Jumble to the airy madness of the Hollow and Broken Hills, every facet has a story, and every story a dark edge. Yes, the Blight is a place, but it is a place that touches others, like a cancer, suddenly infesting a brighter place and poisoning it. There is no escaping its touch, and once it draws you in, you may never escape. Welcome…”
To add to this revolting mix of what Richard calls ‘unpleasant role-play coupled with carnage,’ he’s created a city—a place like no other; we call this place the Blight. The Blight is a teeming mass of tumbling districts, and dark alleyways, a nasty mixture of Alice in Wonderland meets Frankenstein, with the streets of Conan Doyle and the rot of Jeff Vandermeer as their home. A frontier where a place called Between—if “place” is indeed the right word—exists at every corner and threatens to draw visitors into its grip and fold inwards forever.
Welcome indeed...welcome to the Blight.