Known as the City of Song, and for good reason, the first thing a visitor hears as they’re entering Bacchil’s harbor in the early morning is of a great voice echoing over the harbor area. This voice belongs to the leader of the city, known as the Songweaver. The Songweaver, elected by popular vote based on his talent in all the various arts, is charged with creating a new song at the beginning of his term, and singing it to wake up the rest of the city at the beginning of every day. Because of this, every Songweaver has always been someone with a spark of or a pact with a spirit of sound or music, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to fulfill their duties.
The city is incredibly lively, deck with colours and filled with noise. While the other cities of the Plutars certainly don’t lack in splendor, in Bacchil that particular quality is expanded upon vastly. Colours cover every building, every street corner, and every person, in a dazzling display described as either nauseous or awe-inspiring. There is absolutely no restraint when it comes to colors or patterns, allowing the most garish and dizzying feats of painting and textiles to be put on display.
Every form of artistry can be found in the city. The mundane painters, poets, sculptors, dancers, acrobats, jugglers, fire eaters and so on are in ample supply of course, but there are also far stranger styles of performance. These can and have ranged from sculptors making rotting statues out of human flesh, to performers who cover themselves in their own excrement before performing self-harming rituals. No way of self-expression is forbidden here, no matter how vile. In fact, before a visitor docks, they are asked by the port inspector whether they are able to stomach such works of art. If not, then a servant from the city is dispatched to perform the visitor’s duties while the visitor rests calmly on the ship.
The city eagerly welcome never-before-seen visitors, and if one should arrive, a fireworks show is put on that night, meant to celebrate the new arrival and pleasantly introduce him to the city in a pleasant way. The fireworks show can go on for hours, and once when a ship full of refugees arrived at the island the display went on for nights. It is said that the spirits themselves join in the festivities on especially engaging celebrations such as these, performing wild displays in the sky.
However, artists, no matter how popular or lucrative, can support an entire city. So Bacchil also plays host to purveyors of all sorts of substances meant to affect your body and mind. While Renen has control over substances of death and poisons, Bacchil has the market cornered with regards to narcotics, hallucinogens, depressants and various other addictive substances.
They in fact provide most of the city’s income, and the city revels in it. None of the substances that are illegal in other lands -in other cities of the Plutars even- are illegal here. If a new addiction appears on the market, you can likely trace it to Bacchil. Of course, the city has a firm policy on not caring what happens to the merchants who leave its borders. If they get arrested as “smugglers”, well they weren’t smugglers in Bacchil that’s for certain.
This has led to a large number of addicts among the city’s population and artistic community. Those who aren’t able to manage it end up living on the street, and are allowed to be used for any sort of artistic “expression” someone may have in mind, and the Songweaver won’t lift a finger to help them. In fact, near the docks in the early morning, it’s just as likely the Songweaver that grabs them as it is anyone else.