The Crossroads
The Crossroads sits off the beaten path in Georgiabama, removed from the main roads and major settlements. The distance means few complaints when the bar gets rowdy, and the bar gets rowdy often. Horace Griffin runs a small, dark pub on the east corner, powered by a generator in the back, featuring a jukebox of no particular distinction and rooms for rent above. Many of those rooms are occupied by the Servants of the Cross. The atmosphere inside is one of nervous anticipation: musicians drink to build their courage before attempting something that cannot be undone.
This is the legendary site where, according to King's Court faithful, one can sell their soul to the Devil in exchange for musical talent to rival the Kings of old. The ritual is simple in description and terrifying in practice: wait at the crossroads at midnight and see what comes. Those who return play with nothing left to lose. The Servants of the Cross, a devout order of King's Court members, monitor and test those who seek to make a deal. They quiz aspirants on matters of faith and musical knowledge, dragging out those who fail. Marked by tattoos of two crossed guitar necks forming a black X, the Servants are trained fighters and deeply knowledgeable about the Kings and Queens. They have no leadership hierarchy and follow no specific King or Queen, instead devoting themselves to an all-encompassing love of music.
The Cult of the Crossroads exists separately from the Servants, considered the treasure that the Servants guard. The two groups rarely speak or intermingle; if a Cult member sits in the bar, a Servant may buy them a beer, but little conversation follows. The Servants are wardens and gatekeepers. The Cult is what waits inside the keep.
No raider, critter, or undead has ever attacked the Crossroads. The bar owner confirms this with the calm certainty of a man who has observed something unnatural for long enough to stop questioning it. Some believe the Devil himself keeps threats at bay to secure more souls. Others do not speculate. The Crossroads occasionally fills with King's Court pilgrims seeking a view of holy ground, and the bar does brisk business selling drinks to those who need liquid courage before stepping outside at midnight.
This is the legendary site where, according to King's Court faithful, one can sell their soul to the Devil in exchange for musical talent to rival the Kings of old. The ritual is simple in description and terrifying in practice: wait at the crossroads at midnight and see what comes. Those who return play with nothing left to lose. The Servants of the Cross, a devout order of King's Court members, monitor and test those who seek to make a deal. They quiz aspirants on matters of faith and musical knowledge, dragging out those who fail. Marked by tattoos of two crossed guitar necks forming a black X, the Servants are trained fighters and deeply knowledgeable about the Kings and Queens. They have no leadership hierarchy and follow no specific King or Queen, instead devoting themselves to an all-encompassing love of music.
The Cult of the Crossroads exists separately from the Servants, considered the treasure that the Servants guard. The two groups rarely speak or intermingle; if a Cult member sits in the bar, a Servant may buy them a beer, but little conversation follows. The Servants are wardens and gatekeepers. The Cult is what waits inside the keep.
No raider, critter, or undead has ever attacked the Crossroads. The bar owner confirms this with the calm certainty of a man who has observed something unnatural for long enough to stop questioning it. Some believe the Devil himself keeps threats at bay to secure more souls. Others do not speculate. The Crossroads occasionally fills with King's Court pilgrims seeking a view of holy ground, and the bar does brisk business selling drinks to those who need liquid courage before stepping outside at midnight.
