Not unlike their music and artwork, Slothjemian architecture is considered less than ideal by outsiders. Words frequently used to describe it include ramshackle, hideous, eyesore, blighted, and I’d-like-to-stay-near-the-door-in-case-somebody-sneezes. Very rarely do Slothjemian structures ever just fall down, but they do have a tendency to appear as though they are on the verge of toppling.

The main visual impediment to appreciating Slothjemian architecture are the many clashing styles of construction. Humans build according to where in the continent they originated, and that is bad enough, but then you have to factor in the inspirations provided by dwarves, drow elves, and every type of goblinoid imaginable. Even in the smallest towns, buildings right next to each other can be completely different in style.

Another factor are the different sizes for all of the people that inhabit Slothjemia. Kobolds grow to about three feet tall, and ogres can be as tall as nine feet, or more. Commercial enterprises cater to that range, three to nine feet, especially taverns and inns. In the larger cities, a person can find such an establishment suited especially to their size, and maybe even race, but in smaller communities the local pub will need to have accommodations for a myriad of customer sizes.

In a nation rich with building materials, and utterly devoid of building codes, travelers in Slothjemia can be treated to some bewildering structures and abodes. It might not be the most visually pleasing, but you can almost guarantee it won’t just fall over if somebody sneezes.

Probably.