- Category:
- Metropolis of Madness
- Location:
- In the heart of Niedergarnien, built in circles, imagined in spirals
- Function:
- Site of collective reality unraveling, pulsing center of thread-break entropy
Yarnakth is not a city in the traditional sense —
it is an organism of stone, nonsense, and fragmented memory.
It grows.
It weaves.
And it knows when you enter.
Built in seven concentric rings, once the center of the Delicate-Demonic Federal Republic, Yarnakth is now infamous as a porous crucible of madness. It is metropolis, monument, and memorial — all unraveling in slow, rhythmic absurdity.
Its alleys slither like tentacles. Its towers breathe in shallow gasps. And beneath its gold-hazed domes, the pavement moaned — not from weight, but anticipation.
The Butter President once resided here — now, only uncertainty governs.
Between its plush-lined streets and whispering walls, reality shatters into patterns far more beautiful than order could ever be.
“A place, not a being. And yet:
when Yarnakth looks at you — you’ll look at yourself.”
Its districts reflect states of mind.
In Hirnquell, thinkers debate the rights of dreaming machines.
In the inner rings, logic collapses into architecture.
And deep below it all — tightly hidden —
sleeps Fjharn’Zhûl, the city that crochets nightmares.
Yarnakth is the pulsing heart of absurd rupture.
Whoever enters it should not seek answers.
Only soft shoes…
and a strong memory.