The Amaranthine Sea & Northern Shores

“The sea keeps a better memory than any scribe. The reef remembers every secret whispered above its depths. Do not ask which flag flies highest – ask which hull leaks slowest.”
— The Bravo of Silkstrand

Kahfagia

The Flag of Storms.

“Kahfagia runs on lantern-light and rust, where the lies are as polite as the lanterns that never go out. Every beacon is a promise – and every reef remembers the ships that broke theirs. Come for the salt fish, stay for the gossip, but never trust a calm tide: the commodores know the lanterns fear the dark, and I’ve seen a Mirror-Keeper weep when her reflection showed her a daughter she’d sold for a pilot’s license.”
— The Bravo of Silkstrand

What do people eat for breakfast? Salt fish porridge – dried cod soaked overnight, boiled with hardtack and a splash of lamp oil. Every Kahfagian child learns to taste the salt and know which coast their grandmother came from.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To count ships by their lanterns. Three lanterns means a Kahfagian merchant – safe. Four means an Oshiiran grain barge – neutral. One, low in the water, means a privateer. Run.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their hands. Dock-workers have rope-burned palms. Merchants have ink-stained fingers. Privateers have no fingernails – they bite them off in storms.

What is the most common crime? False manifests. Every third ship carries cargo that doesn’t appear on its papers. The Admiralty knows. The Admiralty takes a cut. The Admiralty calls it a “tariff surcharge.”

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Mirror-Keepers are not born – they are made. And the making requires a death. A sister, a daughter, a lover. Someone who drowned so the keeper could see through the fog.

Where do people go when they die? The tide takes them. Kahfagia has no cemeteries above ground. The drowned are weighted with chain and dropped in the deep channel. Their families light candles in paper boats and float them out at dusk.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer your bell. Every Kahfagian carries a small brass bell – the sound of their name. Offering it means “I give you my voice.” Refusing to return it is a declaration of blood feud.

What is the most important festival? The Beacon Lighting (midwinter). Every lighthouse keeper lights a new lamp from the Admiral’s flame. If your beacon catches first, your year will be lucky. If it sputters, you will owe a death to the sea.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Admiral’s lantern code has a ninth signal – never used, never spoken, burned into every keeper’s memory. It means “Kill the witnesses. Sink the evidence. The sea will hide the rest.”

Kahfagia — “The Creole Thalassocracy”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Kassamira

Entanglements

To the East:

Ecktoria – Grain and iron flow east; the Lantern-Law rarely shines that far inland. The vigilia of the Amber Palace have a standing file on every commodore.

To the North:

The Violet Steppe (Ykrul) – Nomadic raids sometimes reach the coastal olive groves. The Ykrul fear the sea more than they fear the khagan.

To the South:

The Amaranthine Sea – Naval rivalry with Thepyrgos and Zakov corsairs is endless. A false flag is always a breath away from war.

To the West:

The Western Reach – Rumors of islands that do not appear on charts, and of a fleet that sailed west and never returned.

Quick Reference

Tagline: Every mirror is a blade, every beacon a promise. The sea obeys when we move the lights — but the spiders weave in the mirror-towers.

Admiral of Lantern-Law (Elite): “Every mirror is a blade, every beacon a promise. The sea obeys when we move the lights — and woe to the fool who rows against them. Yet I have seen the reflection move before the hand that holds it. The tides are not the only ones with secrets.”

Dockside Factor (Commoner): “The pilots see farther than kings. A gesture in lantern-code can open ports, or close them. Keep your lamps trimmed and your signals clear. And if a gray-robed stranger offers to adjust your mirror for free — say no. The Lethai-ar have long memories, and longer webs.”

Genre / Mood: Creole thalassocracy, signal-and-lane politics, eldritch tide, secret infiltration.

Starting Location: The Lantern Pier admiralty chapel, where votive ships hang from the ceiling and brine drips from the icon of a drowned saint. A sea-notary unlocks a salt-stained reliquary and produces a chart with gilt edges. “Fetch the contraband bell from the corsair galleass Santa Dolorosa before moonrise — or the harbor names you accomplices. And watch for silk threads on the bollards. The Spider’s children are everywhere.”

Kahfagia is the Creole child of the Vilikari and the deep-sea traders — a thalassocracy where reckonings meet tide-law. The Admiralty of Lantern-Law rules not by armies but by light, yet the real power flows through a tangled web of oligarchic families, each with their own spies, their own private navies, and their own seat on the Shadow Council. Above them all floats a central Admiralty fleet, charged with protecting the beacon monopoly — and with watching the watchers.

But the oligarchs are not the only players. Unseen, the Lethai-ar of Inaea have been infiltrating the mirror-towers for decades. A factor’s trusted secretary, a harbor master’s silent wife, a pilot’s apprentice with too-still eyes — they weave their webs not for coin, but for control. They do not seek to destroy Kahfagia. They seek to own it, strand by strand, until the entire thalassocracy hums to the rhythm of the Spider’s mercy.

What you notice first: The constant chime of bell-buoys. The smell of salt, tar, and burnt oil from a thousand lanterns. The way everyone — admiral to dockhand — glances at the tide timer before speaking. And the faint, almost invisible silk threads tied around the bollards of the wealthiest piers.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never argue with a Mirror-Keeper about where the channel lies. If they say the safe water moved, it moved. Your chart is already kindling. And if the Mirror-Keeper smiles too widely, check the back of their neck for a spider’s brand.

Regional Mood: The Lantern’s Vigil & The Spider’s Web

Power is visible here — literally. Every night, a thousand lamps burn along the channels, each a statement of control. To dim a light is to cede ground. To move a beacon is to declare war. Commodores sit in their mirror-towers, watching reflections, while tide-timers tick down to the next auction, the next inspection, the next quiet burial of a reputation.

But beneath the visible power, another war is fought in whispers. The Lethai-ar agents of Inaea have spent a generation infiltrating the oligarchic families. A young heir who suddenly displays uncanny negotiating skill may not be talented — they may be woven. A Mirror-Keeper whose beacons never fail may be receiving guidance from a source that does not appear on any chart. The Spider’s web is patient. It does not break the thalassocracy; it guides it.

Prominent NPCs of Kahfagia

The Oligarchic Houses (Shadow Council)

The true rulers of Kahfagia are not the Admiralty alone, but the Shadow Council of seven oligarchic families. Each controls a monopoly (spice, salt, silk, timber, pitch, shipbuilding, or intelligence). Each maintains its own private navy and network of spies. Each vies for the empty seat left by the family that the Lethai-ar have already woven into silence.

• House al-Kassam (Spice): Oldest, proudest, most vulnerable. The Lethai-ar have already replaced the family steward.

• House Carrasco (Salt): Ruthless pragmatists; they suspect infiltration but cannot prove it.

• House Mirat (Silk): Secret allies of the Lethai-ar — they trade webs for influence.

• House del Puerto (Shipbuilding): Neutral; they build for anyone who pays.

• House Henares (Timber): Deeply weighed down by Admiralty claims; the Lethai-ar are slowly gathering leverage.

• House Ira ("Miscellaneous"): Neutral; Sells arcane goods, artifacts, weapons, and contraband to the highest bidder.

• Naval Intelligence: The Admiralty’s own spy network — and already compromised.

• The Empty Chair: Once held by House Morat, now vacant. The other houses whisper that the Morats were not destroyed — they were rewoven.

Secret Faction: The Silk Vigil (Lethai-ar Infiltrators)

Agents of Inaea, the Spider’s children have spent a generation worming into Kahfagia’s elite. They do not steal or sabotage — they guide. A decision that benefits House Carrasco is subtly nudged toward the Lethai-ar’s long-term goal: a unified thalassocracy that answers not to the Admiralty, but to the Web.

Signs of Infiltration (d6)

When a character suspects a Lethai-ar presence, roll or choose a sign:

1. A factor’s handwriting becomes unnaturally precise, the loops forming faint eight-shapes.

2. A Mirror-Keeper’s reflections show the same face in every tower — a woman with chestnut-brown skin and eyes like polished jet.

3. A ship that should have foundered instead limps to port, its crew speaking of a gray-robed passenger who vanished before docking.

4. Silk threads appear on the rigging of a warship; the threads are too strong to break with bare hands.

5. A merchant’s ledger contains entries in disappearing ink; heat reveals names of Lethai-ar contacts.

6. The Veiled Harpist’s music is heard from a room that has no windows.

Named Agents of the Silk Vigil

These Lethai-ar agents may appear in any Kahfagian campaign.

• The Veiled Harpist (Leader): No one knows her face. She plays only in mirror-lit rooms. Her music leaves threads of silk in the listeners’ hair. She has woven three oligarchs into silence.

• Sefu the Clerk: A quiet man in the Admiralty’s archive. He adds clauses to treaties that favor House Mirat. He has not spoken above a whisper in seven years.

• Liana of the Gray Shawl: A pilot’s apprentice with too-still eyes. She knows every reef and every patrol route. She has never been lost—only redirected.

Mechanical Hook: Once per session, a PC may roll Wits + Lore (DV 4) to notice a silken thread in an official’s collar or a spider’s brand on a dockhand’s wrist. On success, they identify a Lethai-ar agent. On failure, the agent becomes aware of their scrutiny — and the Web tightens.

Names of Kahfagia

Inspired by the sea-faring republics of the western coast, blended with Vilikari influences: liquid consonants, soft vowels, and surnames that denote a port, a ship, or a founding ancestor.

Spades — Places (Littoral/Lane/Law)

Tidal Mudflat — Hidden plank-way at low water; smugglers’ shortcut. At ebb, the planks rise like the ribs of a drowned whale. [STEALTH]

Salt-Scar Pier — Behind dawn spice auctions; where fortunes wash ashore. Inspectors check the salt-scars — white crust that proves cargo was cleaned, not stolen. [TRADE]

Reedbelt Creeks — Smuggler paths where tax boats won’t follow. A hanged man’s boots hang from a piling; those who pass tug their collars. [STEALTH]

Breakwater Gap — Under repair; cutters slip at dusk through the works. The stone is still loose. A wrong step, and the sea claims another toll. [TRAVEL]

Dredged Channel — Fresh with temporary beacons; tomorrow’s safe water. The buoys are painted yellow — the color of “maybe.” [TRAVEL]

River Sluice — Tide-gate and boom-chain; access controlled by rope and writ. The chain has a notch where a slaver’s ship tried to flee. It still drips oil. [AUTHORITY]

Cutter Yard — Narrow-keel vessels; apprentices work night shifts. They sing old work songs — the kind that skip the ninth beat. [LABOR]

Lantern Alley — Fog-lane where beacons migrate with the tide. Follow the lights. Two blinks means you’re expected. Three? You’re prey. [WEATHER]

Admiralty Quay — Bonded warehouses under seal; law walks the decks. The seal on the door changes with the tide. Today it’s a serpent eating its tail. [AUTHORITY]

Red Shoal — Quiet water, loud reputations; where deals are made. Old barges moored together; a floating court with no bailiff. [SOCIAL]

Mirror Tower — Pilot station that certifies safe water — today. The mirror at the top shows not the sea, but the face of the last captain who argued. [JUSTICE]

Kassamira Port — Presidial; auctions at dawn, courts by noon. The auctioneer’s gavel is wrapped in a page torn from a voided manifest. [TRADE]

The Pointe — Strait of storm-lights and wreckers’ tales. On still nights, you can hear the drowned singing the names of those who bear heavy burdens. [DEATH]

Hearts — People & Factions

Tide-Runner — Bell and rope; knows every tide-table by heart. “The table says high water at noon. The moon lies. Trust my rope.” [TRAVEL]

Pilot’s Apprentice — Perfect memory for shoals; tomorrow’s navigator. Touches a brass talisman before every sounding. No one knows why. [TRAVEL]

Lantern Clerk — Knows which lights moved, and why; keeper of the shifts. Docks with a manifest that smells of smoke. Adds a surcharge for “recent adjustments.” [AUTHORITY]

Vilikari Factor — Two sets of books; one for Kahfagia, one for truth. The left column records bribes as “conciliation fees.” The right one is never shown. [TRADE]

Dock-Syndic — Makes queues vanish; power in the pause. He never raises his voice. The harbor master listens anyway. [SOCIAL]

Lantern Advocate — “Jurisdiction moves like tide”; law in flux. She carries a water-timer in her sleeve to measure the shifting of legal moods. [JUSTICE]

Privateer Captain — “Crooked” letter of convoy; profit in the margins. Her ship flies three flags; the one she lowers last is the one that matters. [COMBAT]

Thalassoi Sergeant — Shore leave but still on duty; marine precision. A tattoo of a lighthouse on his forearm; the light is his wife’s name. [COMBAT]

Admiralty Magistrate — Rules fast, travels faster; justice in a hurry. She once sentenced a man to the galleys and boarded the ship before he did. [JUSTICE]

Dredging Foreman — Channel follows their purse; water reshaped. His crew are ex-criminals; he pays them in salt pork and absolution. [LABOR]

Mirror-Keeper (Elite) — Commodore’s confidante; places beacons that bind. Their faces are never seen — only reflected. Some say they have none. [AUTHORITY]

Kahfagian Commodore — Off the books but on the water; shadow admiral. His flagship is a fishing smack. Its nets drag up letters of marque. [AUTHORITY]

Admiral of Red Shoal — Offers wine, figs — once. Price in stories. She pours the first cup herself. If she pours a second, you’ve already agreed. [LEGEND]

Clubs — Complications/Threats

Early Tide — Turns two bells early; grounding risk rises like the sea. [WEATHER] Someone bribed the tide-clerk — or the moon is angry.

Smothering Fog — Sound travels, sight does not; navigation by ear alone. [WEATHER] You hear oars. Then you don’t. Then they’re behind you.

Boom Slam — Harbor chain slams shut; wrong side means delay or danger. [AUTHORITY] The chain’s links are inscribed with names of those who defied the Admiralty. Each one rattles differently.

Light Shift — Beacons change mid-approach; your lane just moved. [TRAVEL] Someone paid the Lantern Clerk. Find out who — or drift into the reefs.

Pilot Strike — No escorts available; wages unpaid, risk assumed. [LABOR] The pilots sit in their guildhall, drinking tea, watching ships founder.

Customs Inspection — Ladder audits cargo and crew; delays bite deep. [AUTHORITY] The inspector has a silver tooth. He smiles when he sees a manifest.

Reef-Runners — Corsair skiffs circle with boarding hooks; steel in the spray. [COMBAT] Their leader wears a Mirror-Keeper’s badge — stolen or earned, you cannot tell.

Jurisdiction Flip — Lantern-law shifts; your writ no longer bites. [JUSTICE] The tide turned. So did the magistrate. Your safe-conduct is now kindling.

Fire Risk — Alchemical cargo aboard; quarantine if anything spills. [DISASTER] A single spark and the whole quay becomes a crater. The factor wants you to know this.

Quartermaster Betrayal — Tide-tables sold to rival; route compromised. [SOCIAL] The betrayal is written in lemon juice; heat reveals the name.

Yellow Flag — Port quarantine; deadlines rot on the hook. [DEATH] The flag is dyed with turmeric and something else — something that smells sweet.

Fleet Redeploy — “Safe” corridor becomes parade ground; chaos in formation. [AUTHORITY] Admirals play chess with real ships, and you are a pawn.

Black Squall (at the Pointe) — Scatters ships and stories alike. [WEATHER] [DEATH] This is no natural storm. The water hisses. Something below is waking.

Web Unravelled — A Lethai-ar agent is exposed. The oligarchs turn on each other, accusing every rival of being a spider. [POLITICS] [FEAR] Silk threads appear on every doorknob. No one trusts their shadow.

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

Mooring Chit — Skip the Mooring Roll once; harbor favors you. [TRAVEL] The chit is a dried seahorse shell. Keep it away from salt.

Pilotage Token — One certified escort through a bad channel. [TRAVEL] The pilot who accepts it must touch your shoulder before speaking.

Fee Waiver — Cargo cleared today; no questions asked. [TRADE] The clerk stamps it twice — once for the crown, once for the Hollow.

Safe-Conduct [Leverage: Passage] — Along specific beaconed lane; law walks with you. [TRAVEL] The commodore’s seal is warm. It cools as the exit nears.

Salvage Rights — On named quay or reach; flotsam becomes fortune. [TRADE] You must name each piece before touching it. The wrong word forfeits the claim.

Warehouse Access — Bonded storage; seal prize before rivals sniff. [TRADE] The key is a bronze finger. It fits only one lock — and breaks after use.

Lantern Code — Tonight’s signals revealed; navigation advantage. [TRAVEL] Three quick flashes: safe passage. One long, two short: the Admiralty is watching.

Dredging Grant — You decide where next channel runs; reshape the sea. [AUTHORITY] The dredgers are convicts. They work faster if you promise a name in their favor.

Letter of Marque — Convoy protection for one season; legal blades. [COMBAT] The ink is mixed with gunpowder. It smokes slightly when read.

Admiralty Judgment — Precedent travels with you; law bends. [JUSTICE] The case number is burned into a leather tag. Tie it to a belt loop.

Mirror Warrant — Legal right to post a beacon; redraw the map. [AUTHORITY] The Mirror-Keeper’s seal, still warm. The channel you mark becomes law — until challenged.

Spice Share — Stake in Kassamira auction floor; profit in pepper. [TRADE] The share is a peppercorn sealed in wax. Bite it to test authenticity.

Lantern License — Temporary authority to redefine the lane. [AUTHORITY] The harbor master spits when he hands it over. Use it wisely — or not at all.

Quick use notes

• Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).

• Diamonds are codified outcomes (papers/rights/priority) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo sea & signal motifs — beacons that migrate, tides that remember, law that flows like water. If a King or Ace of Spades appears, also echo web motifs — silk threads on a bollard, a reflection that holds too long, the faint smell of spiced tea (the Lethai-ar are near).

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Pilot’s Mirror: Kahfagia’s strength is not its fleet but its monopoly on light and lane. To post a beacon is to redraw the map. Any character with a Mirror Warrant may permanently move a beacon or buoy (GM sets a 4-segment timer). For the duration of that timer, all navigation rolls on that lane are at +1 Position for the party and –1 Position for rivals.

• Lantern-Law Privilege: While flying an Admiralty flag or carrying a valid Lantern License, your ship may pass through chain-booms and customs points at +1 Position. The first time in a session you invoke this privilege, the GM gains 1 SB (the Admiralty is watching).

• Oligarchic Standing (Leverage Track): Instead of tracking coin weights, track Standing with the great families (al-Kassam, Carrasco, Mirat, etc.). Standing 1–3 gives you access to private docks, early auction warnings, and off-the-books pilots. Standing 4+ lets you call in a family to block a rival’s safe-conduct or raise a false alarm on their ship.

• The Web’s Patience (Secret Timer [6]): Tracks the Lethai-ar infiltration of the Shadow Council. The timer ticks when the party helps a Lethai-ar agent, exposes a rival house’s secrets, or ignores a silken thread. At 3, the Harpist’s name appears on a dockmaster’s manifest. At 6, the Empty Chair is filled — and the new house head bows to a gray-robed stranger. The party may reduce the timer by exposing an agent or by warning an oligarch (requires spending 2 Standing).

• Western Reach Rumors: Once per port visit, a character may roll Wits + Lore (DV 3) to hear a rumor from a captain returned from beyond the mirror. On success, the GM reveals one of the twelve rumors (see below) as a foreshadowing hook or a clue for an ongoing arc.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Lantern Bearer — The Traveler. A light that never goes out; a promise that never sinks.

  • The Mirror-King — The Witness. Reflections that remember every lie, every promise, every cargo.

  • The Tide Father — Khemesh. The pressure beneath the keel; the weight that the sea holds at ebb.

  • The Spider’s Daughter — Inaea (secret). The web that binds the oligarchs, strand by patient strand.

  • The Unlit — Ikasha. The ninth lamp that is never lit; the safe harbor that exists only in rumor.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• Saint Alvaro of the Lantern (The Traveler): The Admiralty’s mirror-towers double as wayshrines for the Saint of Lost Channels. Sailors who light a candle before a voyage and whisper a destination to the mirror claim the tide will not turn against them before they reach it. The Mirror-Keepers charge a fee for this service — payable in salt, not silver.

• The Silken Coup (Inaea): The Lethai-ar call their infiltration the Genteel Harvest. They do not conquer; they adopt. An oligarch who accepts a gray-robed advisor finds that their children are betrothed to shadow-kin, their records are copied in disappearing ink, and their mirror-tower shows only the face they wish to see — not the one that watches them sleep.

• The Tide-Sworn Compact (The Admiral of Sealed Tides): A small but influential order of notaries based in Kassamira Port. They adjudicate disputes over beacon rights, cargo claims, and pilotage fees. Their judgments are always delivered in triplicate, and they accept no bribes — only sworn promises. Those who lie before a Covenant judge find that their next three voyages are plagued by contrary winds.

• The Hospitallers of the Salted Veil (The Bitter Root): A hospice on Deadman’s Quay is run by gray-robed healers of the Order. They ask no payment, but they never forget a face. It is said that if you accept their care, the sea remembers your name — and the sea never forgets. Smugglers leave small offerings of fresh water on the pier to stay in the Order’s good graces.

• The Ninth Lantern Omen (d6): In any lantern-lit scene, the ninth lamp lit in a room reveals a threshold. The wise stop at eight. Those who light the ninth are said to see a figure standing on the water outside the window — waiting.

  1. The figure is a drowned sailor you once knew. It speaks your name in a voice like breaking ice.

  2. The lantern gutters and relights itself, burning green. The next ship to leave port will not return.

  3. A reflection in the water shows a version of you that made a different choice. It is still alive. It is still waiting.

  4. The flame casts no shadow. The Hollow has accepted your offering. You will not be asked to pay — tonight.

  5. The lamp’s oil turns to salt water. The figure is the Admiral of Red Shoal, and she offers a choice: a safe passage, or a secret.

  6. The ninth lamp is not lit by your hand. Someone else lit it. They are standing behind you, and they have a question.

Kahfagia Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Wake: Toss a crust over your shoulder before entering a new channel. Ignore the first Smothering Fog penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Turn the Lantern: Spin the binnacle lamp once counter-timerwise. Cancel Boom Slam or take –1 die on your next pilot check (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Deep: Whisper a true name into a lead line. Gain +1 Effect against corsairs for the scene, but mark a Burden from the Tide Court. [SUPERSTITION]

• Cut the Thread: If you find a silk thread on your bollard, cut it with a silver knife. Negate the next Web’s Patience tick. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

• 1 SB: A lantern flickers; a signal is misread. Minor navigation error.

• 2 SB: A rival ship appears on the horizon; a customs inspector boards.

• 3 SB: The tide turns early; a beacon goes dark; a silk thread is found on your rigging.

• 4+ SB: The Web tightens (Timer ticks); The Admiralty revokes a license; A storm breaks without warning.

Western Reach Rumors (d12, expanded hooks)

1. A harbor where bells toll under water; cargo must be named aloud.

2. A spice that stops bleeding — until moonrise.

3. A mirror-reef that reflects storms from a week ahead.

4. A pilotage guild that uses birds, not beacons.

5. A fleet that sails by shadow cast on fog.

6. A court that weighs promises in breath, not coin.

7. A lighthouse that burns a cold, blue flame; ships that follow it find a city of sunken glass.

8. A salt-crusted chart that shows islands that appear only on the ninth tide.

9. A bell that, when rung, forces all who hear it to speak one true name.

10. A smuggler’s route that passes through a reef where the drowned hold court.

11. A spice ship that carries no cargo — only a single mirror, and the face of the merchant who sold it.

12. A harbor where the tide is measured not in feet, but in secrets.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Sail + Wits): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Wake Surge.

• Cut the Lane (Pilot + Tactics): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a beacon is under your color, +1 die.

• Weather the Squall (Endurance + Sail): On a hit in Black Squall, you pick who drifts; on a miss, the Keeper does.

Boss Seeds (Sea & Signal / Web & Silk)

• The Mirror-Keeper of Kassamira (signal tyrant) — Phases: Audit → Blacklist → Light Embargo. Cracks: rival beacon logs, Tide Court precedent, stolen codebook.

• Corsair-Chaplain of the Pointe (relic raider) — Phases: Charm → Board → Bell-Wake. Cracks: sanctified boom, cofradía oath, drowned-saint tithe.

• The Veiled Harpist (Spider’s Daughter) — Phases: Whisper → Weave → Harvest. Cracks: speak a true name of a Lethai-ar agent, cut a strand of the Web with silver, or remind an oligarch of a promise older than the Spider’s memory.

In Kahfagia, power flows through control of the sea lanes themselves — and through the silken threads that bind the oligarchs to the Spider’s will. The maritime oligarchs have built their empire not through conquest of territory but through mastery of navigation and the quiet manipulation of loyalty. Every beacon, every channel marker, every mirror-light is both a navigational aid and a legal instrument. But behind every mirror, a gray-robed woman watches. And she is very, very patient.

For the GM: Kahfagian patronage revolves around access — to channels, to cargo, to legal protection. Rewards often take the form of pilotage tokens, safe-conducts, or salvage rights. But the secret war of the Lethai-ar adds a new layer: players may be hired to expose an agent, to protect an oligarch from being “woven,” or even to ally with the Spider’s children for a share of the Harvest. Use the Web’s Patience timer to track the infiltration; let players decide whether to slow it, accelerate it, or ride it to power.

Amaria – The Iron Shore

A small peninsula squeezed between Kahfagia’s Akilan holdings and the Vilikari border, Amaria is a land of iron mines, coastal fog, and hybrid law. Ecktoria once claimed it; now it pays tribute to both Kahfagia and the Vilikari to stay independent. Its people speak a creole of Kahfagian maritime slang and Vilikari bureaucratic precision, and its courts rule by a blend of Admiralty tariff law and Vermilion Corps writ-law.

What you notice first: The smell of rust and brine. The way every official carries two seals – one for Kahfagia, one for the Vilikari. The constant ticking of water-timers that never agree on the hour.

The rule that kills newcomers: Never carry only one flag. Amarian vessels fly both the lantern and the grain sheaf. A single flag is a declaration of allegiance — and an invitation to be sunk by the other side.

Quick Generators for Amaria (d6 each)

Spades — Places (d6)

1. Iron Quay – A pier built from salvaged warship timbers. The nails are iron from the inland mines; they rust red, staining the water like blood. [INDUSTRY]

2. Coin-House of Twin Books – A counting-house where every transaction is recorded twice — once for the Kahfagian tariff, once for the Vilikari grain tithe. The third book is the smuggler’s. [TRADE]

3. Fog Lighthouse (Disputed) – A stone tower with two lamps: one green for Kahfagia, one white for the Vilikari. Only one is lit at a time. The keeper changes them with the tide. [AUTHORITY]

4. Smuggler’s Rope-Walk – A hidden cove where boats land at low tide. The rope-walk is a series of knotted lines that lead to a cave full of untaxed cargo. [STEALTH]

5. Mine Shaft of the Ninth Vein – An iron mine that goes deeper than the surveyors mapped. The miners whisper of a sealed door at the bottom — Aeler work, they say. [MYSTERY]

6. Dual Customs Post – A wooden shack with two windows: one for Kahfagian stamps, one for Vilikari seals. The line snakes between them. Smugglers pay both clerks and skip the line. [AUTHORITY]

Hearts — People (d6)

1. Twin-Book Clerk – Sits at a split desk, writing with two hands. Her left hand files Kahfagian tariffs; her right, Vilikari grain receipts. Her third hand — the one no one sees — writes the real numbers. [TRADE]

2. Iron Miner (Free) – A former indentured laborer who bought his freedom with a year’s ore. His hands are stained red with rust. He knows the sealed door’s location but will not speak of it. [LABOR]

3. Smuggler Captain – Flies no flag. His ship’s name changes with each port. He speaks four languages badly and navigates by the taste of salt on the wind. [STEALTH]

4. Kahfagian Customs Agent – A one-eyed woman with a brass hook for a hand. She stamps cargo with a bell-shaped seal. The seal rings when the declared value is a lie. [AUTHORITY]

5. Vilikari Grain Auditor – Thin, spectacled, carries a grain balance. He measures every sack against the Widow’s standard. He has found nine thieves this year. The tenth was his own clerk. [JUSTICE]

6. Fog Keeper (Lighthouse) – An old sailor who lost his sight to a Kahfagian mirror flash. He tends the lamps by touch. He knows which flag flies by the heat of the glass — green is cool, white is warm. [WEATHER]

Clubs — Complications (d6)

1. Tariff Double-Cross – Both Kahfagia and the Vilikari claim the same customs fee. Pay one, and the other impounds your cargo. Pay both, and you are ruined. Smuggle, and you are a patriot. [WEIGHT]

2. Mine Collapse (Sealed Door) – A cave-in opens a passage to the sealed Aeler door. The miners are afraid. Something is breathing on the other side. The party is asked to investigate — or to seal it again. [DISASTER]

3. Lighthouse Outage – Both lamps go dark. Ships founder on the reef. The keeper is found dead, one hand on each lamp. The cause of death: old age — or old promises broken. [DEATH]

4. Census Dispute – The Vilikari claims Amaria’s population for grain tithes; Kahfagia claims it for port taxes. The same people are counted twice — or not at all. The party is asked to review the records. The records are on fire. [POLITICS]

5. Iron Embargo – A rival faction sinks an ore barge. Both powers blame each other. The price of iron spikes. The party’s cargo is now worth a fortune — and a target. [COMBAT]

6. The Ninth Vein Opens – The sealed door cracks. A cold wind blows from the deep. The miners flee. A voice whispers a name — the name of the party member who casts the longest shadow. [MYSTERY]

Diamonds — Rewards (d6)

1. Dual Customs Stamp [Leverage: Passage] – One stamp, two seals. Passes both Kahfagian and Vilikari checkpoints without inspection. Use once per journey. [TRAVEL]

2. Iron Ingot (Ninth Vein) – A bar of ore from the sealed door’s chamber. It is warm to the touch. Aeler runes glow on its surface. Trade it to the True Masons for a favor. [TRADE]

3. Fog Keeper’s Log [Leverage: Knowledge] – A journal of tide and lamp schedules. Decode it to predict when the disputed lighthouse will be unguarded. Gain +1 Position on smuggling attempts. [WEATHER]

4. Twin-Entry Receipt – A document that proves you paid both tariffs. It is written in disappearing ink. The ink vanishes after one use — but the paper remembers. [JUSTICE]

5. Miner’s Compass [Leverage: Knowledge] – A brass needle that points to the sealed door. It also points to the nearest iron vein — and to the nearest heart that beats with greed. [TRAVEL]

6. Smuggler’s Flag (Neutral) [Leverage: Passage] – A plain gray banner. Fly it to pass between Kahfagian and Vilikari patrols unmolested. The patrols will not salute. They will not shoot. They will pretend they did not see you. [STEALTH]

Ecktoria

Marble & Fire.

“Ecktoria is a marble coffin for a king who never was. The Everflame burns not for light but for weight – it measures the lie in every breath. The statues are not watchers – they are the pressure points in the stone. The undertakers know the body is cold, but the pressure remains. The mountain does not forget what the marble tries to hide.”
— Aeler True-Mason

What do people eat for breakfast? Spiced flatbread dipped in olive oil and honey – but only if you can afford the honey. The poor eat millet porridge with a single dried fig. The fig is counted as part of the household’s grain allowance.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To count coins by touch. Every Ecktorian child has a box of worn sesterces; by age five, they can tell a debased copper from pure silver by the weight alone.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their signature. Ecktorians judge by handwriting before face. A clerk with a steady hand is trustworthy. A noble with a flourish is hiding something. A merchant who signs with an X is not worth doing business with.

What is the most common crime? Tax evasion – but it is not a crime, it is a sport. Every household keeps two ledgers: the white one for the Censor, the red one for the family. The art is in keeping the red ledger from looking like a confession.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Censor’s clerks are paid to find discrepancies. They are also paid to lose them. The price of a lost discrepancy is exactly 5% of the tax owed. This is not corruption. It is “administrative flexibility.”

Where do people go when they die? The family crypt, beneath the basilica floor. The wealthy are burned, their ashes mixed with marble dust and pressed into the floor tiles. The poor are buried in unmarked graves outside the walls. The Everflame’s light does not reach that far.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You petition the Censor to have the wrong stricken from the public record. The petition costs a tenth of your annual income. If accepted, the wrong is erased – legally, it never happened. If rejected, the wrong is published, and you lose your civic standing.

What is the most important festival? The Triumph of the Flame (autumn equinox). The basilica’s central flame is carried in procession through every district. To touch the flame is to be absolved of petty debts. To be burned by it is a sign that your debts are not petty.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Grand Magistrate’s seal is a forgery. The original cracked in 783 AR. The current seal was carved by a prison engraver who was executed to keep the secret. The engraver’s apprentice is still alive. They live in Silkstrand. They have the original sketches.

Ecktoria — “Marble & Fire”

Key Demographic: Humans Capital City: Ecktoria (The City)

Entanglements

To the West:

Kahfagia – Lantern-law fleets shadow the grain ships; tariffs are a polite fiction. The Amber Palace and the Beacon Crown exchange spies, not ambassadors.

To the East:

Acasia – The Broken Marches are a source of cheap mercenaries and cheaper grain. The Vigil has eyes in every free company camp.

To the North:

The Violet Steppes. Fortified towns and cities ward against Ykrul raids. An uneasy peace stands between the Imperial remnant and the native Vilikari.

To the North East:

Aeler – Mountain passes choke with dwarvish tariffs; the True Masons hold the keys to the high roads. The Senate pays in iron, and the mountain remembers.

To the South:

The Amaranthine Sea – The old imperial navy rots in harbor; Zakov pirates and Thepyrgos chain-towers contest the straits. The flame of the Everflame does not burn on salt water.

Quick Reference

Tagline: The flame remembers. The marble cracks. The law forgets — but the statues watch.

Grand Magistrate (Elite): “The law is written in marble and witnessed by the flame. Every judgment echoes in the stones — but the stones have grown quiet. The patricians do not listen. They have forgotten what the flame tastes like. They seal their windows with silk and call it governance.”

Ferrymaster (Commoner): “I’ve seen the city burn three times. The marble remembers the heat. The flame remembers the lies. The rich have stopped looking at the flames. They only look at each other — and at the cracks in their own mirrors. The fire isn’t burning anymore, friend. It’s smiling.”

Genre / Mood: Imperial decay, bureaucratic horror, memory as weight, Renaissance decadence — a city walled off from its own rot, where the wealthy dance while the poor cough ash.

Starting Location: The Coin-House floor, marble cracked with soot lines, where votive candles gutter beside melted icons. A factor with smoke-stained fingers offers a folded note. “The Lame King moves tonight. The Basilica burns with him. The Amber Palace hasn’t answered a summons in a month. Find out who lit the fire — or the Vigil will audit your soul at dawn. And stay away from the Arena. The statues have been whispering.”

Once the heart of the Utaran Empire, Ecktoria has worn its laurels into chains. Three centuries of sack, fire, and slow decline have not stripped its marble forums nor its gold-sealed coin-houses — but each day, more of its weight slips into the hands of mercenaries and whispers. The Black Banners march on its purse, avenging old Ykrul wounds by proxy. Processions still crown its stairways, yet ash lines every step. The city burns not only with memory, but with a grief that refuses to name itself.

Yet the true sickness is not in the streets. It is in the Amber Palace, where the old patrician families have walled themselves away. They sit on laurels preserved from the empire, drinking wine that costs a village’s harvest, whispering deals with merchants who have never seen a loom. Maelstraeus, the demon of commerce, has threaded their accounts with invisible tolls; every contract they sign forgets a clause. Livaea, the demon of desire, has wrapped their hearts in silk; they marry for influence, divorce for scandal, and love only the reflection of themselves in gilded mirrors — reflections that no longer blink. The common folk call them the Unburdened — not because they carry no weight, but because they have forgotten what weight feels like.

The Vigil — once the empire’s secret police, now a fractured ghost of an institution — fights a silent war over the dream of restoration. One faction, the Censer-Knights, serves the Everflame and the Synod, hunting heresy and latent magic with brass censers and bells that ring at dawn. Another, the Unburnt, answers only to the old patrician houses, ensuring that no whisper of rebellion reaches the Amber Palace. A third, the Red Vigil, has sold itself to Maelstraeus, auditing not coin but memory — they collect the names of those who have forgotten what they owe. They do not fight each other openly. They meet in the hypogeum of the Arena, under the gaze of statues that weep marble tears. The statues are not decorative. They are the city’s witnesses.

Beyond the capital’s walls, the province is a patchwork of struggling towns, abandoned fortresses, and grainlands whose harvests are disputed by rival tax-collectors. The Everflame Orthodoxy preaches unity, but each sermon is a coded signal for a political camp. The statues watch. The fire judges. And in the sewers, the Vigil’s informers listen for the name of the next person to vanish — not into death, but into the margins of a record no one will ever read.

What you notice first: The smell of old incense and fresh bread — and beneath it, the faint sweetness of rot. The way crowds part for a procession — and close again for a knife. The marble steps, worn smooth by centuries of petitioners. The way the wealthy never step on the cracks. The cracks are where the petitions of the poor are wedged. The cracks are where the Hollow reads.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never refuse a toast in a coin-house. The tallies are the true judges, and a declined cup is a declined trust. You will not borrow again. But more than that: never accept a gift from a patrician without naming its price aloud. Maelstraeus and Livaea both listen, and a gift accepted in silence is a contract written in water — it will drown you eventually.

Regional Mood: The Flame That Remembers — And The Dancers Who Forgot

Here, the past does not fade — it is polished into monuments. Every statue, every obelisk, every triumphal arch is a legal precedent carved in stone. But precedent is not justice. Precedent is memory, and memory is a weight that the city carries like a cracked keel. Ecktoria is not one city but three: the marble forums of the old patricians (where the Unburdened hold masques that last for weeks, their faces painted with ash from the Everflame), the soot-stained alleys of the mercenary camps (where Black Banner captains drink with Vigil informers), and the basilicas where the Everflame’s priests balance piety against profit (and sometimes sell indulgences for the sin of being born poor). The Grand Magistrate presides over a skeleton empire, but the real power moves in coin-houses, grain rolls, and the whispered judgments of the Censor’s Hall — and in the dreams of patricians who no longer remember the scent of rain.

The Vigil does not patrol the streets. It permeates them. Every tavern has an informer; every bathhouse has a spy; every marriage is witnessed by someone who reports to a faction of the Vigil. The Censer-Knights hunt unlicensed magic; the Unburnt hunt sedition; the Red Vigil hunts what was forgotten. They are not allies. They are not enemies. They are three creditors fighting over the same soul — and the soul is the city’s.

The patricians — the Old Blood — no longer govern. They perform governance. A session of the Parlement might see two senators debate the price of grain while their slaves hold silver trays of honeyed figs. A decree might be passed that doubles the salt tax, then rescinded an hour later because a duchess sneezed. They are not cruel. They are distracted. Livaea has taught them to crave the next pleasure before they have finished the current one. Maelstraeus has taught them that every transaction is a game, and every game is winnable if you have enough coin — but they have forgotten that the house always wins. The house is the Hollow.

The Everflame still burns in the basilicas, but its light has grown dim. The High Priest speaks of unity, but his sermons are interrupted by coughing from the pews — not from illness, but from the ash that falls like snow. The common folk whisper that the flame no longer judges truth; it only records it, filing confessions in a vault that no one ever opens. The Vigil has a key. The patricians have a copy. The poor have nothing but their names, which the Censor’s Hall writes in ink that fades when you look away.

The Everflame — Faith of Ash and Incense

The state religion of Ecktoria is a syncretic faith that venerates the Eternal Flame as the divine principle, but its power flows through three great Orders, each devoted to a different Patron. The Basilica of the Unquenched Flame is the heart of the city: a cavernous space of gold mosaics, weeping saints, and the perpetual smell of beeswax and myrrh. Mass is held at dawn and dusk, the congregation coughing through the ash that falls from the censers. The priests sell indulgences in the side chapels — a silver coin for the remission of a small sin, a gold coin for a large one, a horse for a murder. The choir sings in Utaran, a language most parishioners no longer understand, but the melody is beautiful enough to make them weep — and to make the statues turn their heads.

• Order of the Oath of Flame & Light (Orthodox) — The public face of the church. They lead processions, bless marriages, and anoint the dying. Their rites are those of vows, radiance, and protection. They are the ones who light the great candles at dawn. Many are sincere; most are tired. The tired ones are the ones the Vigil watches.

• Order of the Inquisitor Prime (Prosecutorial) — The Censer-Knights. They hunt untutored magic, root out demonic cults, and enforce the purity of the flame. Their rites are those of judgment, purification, and burning censure. They carry brass censers that smoke with bitter herbs, and bells that ring once for a warning, thrice for a raid. They are feared, but also respected — for they are the only ones who still take the flame seriously. And the flame takes them seriously in return.

• Order of the Oath of Mercy and Grace (Hospitalier) — The healers and confessors. They run hospices, tend to the sick, and hear the confessions of the dying. Their rites are those of healing, forgiveness, and the spiral of care. They are often at odds with the Inquisitor Prime — mercy can look like leniency. The common folk love them; the patricians ignore them. The Vigil watches both.

The Everflame is both beautiful and ugly. Its gold leaf covers the same marble where petitioners once scratched their names. Its hymns are sung by choirboys whose families sold them for a loaf of bread. Its relics — a nail from the True Cross, a tear of Saint Lucia — draw pilgrims from across the empire, but the priests charge admission, and the poor sleep on the steps. The flame itself is a wonder: a pillar of blue-white fire that never gutters, tended by the High Priest alone. It is said to show the truth to any who stare into it long enough — and to show the same truth to the Vigil, who watch from the shadows. The truth is always the same: you have forgotten something.

At a Glance

• Atmosphere: Marble grandeur, ash-tipped ambition, the slow rot of imperial forms, and the cloying sweetness of a city drowning in its own nostalgia.

• Key Conflict: Legitimacy versus wealth; old families, new mercenaries, and the Everflame’s judgment — but beneath it all, the battle between Maelstraeus (greed) and Livaea (desire) over the souls of the powerful.

• Notable Threats: Bread riots, arena spills, ducal conflicts, inquisitorial visits, the Red List — and the Vigil’s three factions, who may arrest you for unpaid weights, sedition, or simply being remembered.

• Common Rewards: Procession permits, coin-house credit, laurel deeds, a Golden Edict carved in precedent — and, if you are brave, a secret from the Vigil’s own files. The secret is always about a statue.

Prominent NPCs of Ecktoria

Names of Ecktoria

Inspired by late Latin and early Romance: strong vowels (ae, i, o), soft endings, and the weight of imperial bureaucracy. Surnames often denote a place of origin, a trade, or a notable ancestor.

The Three Ecktorias: Faction Spectrum

Ecktoria is not a single polity but a battlefield of three competing visions. Most citizens and factions fall somewhere between these poles, shifting allegiance as the grain price changes. Superimposed on them are the whispers of Maelstraeus and Livaea, who have no faction — only those who owe.

• Old Blood (Patrician Traditionalists) – The ancient senatorial families who remember when Ecktoria ruled the world. They worship precedent, hoard marble, and see mercenaries as necessary filth. Their power is in law, lineage, and the silent networks of the Censor’s Hall. Timers: Patrician Patience [4], Blood Price [6]. Patron whispers: Livaea — they marry for influence, betray for pleasure, and mistake cruelty for wit. They mistake silence for consent.

• Black Purse (Mercenary & Trade Leagues) – The new power: condotta brokers, coin-house factors, and mercenary captains who have bought what birth could not give. They care about supply lines, not bloodlines. Their loyalty is to the next contract, and their god is the tally — but the tally has no god. Timers: Contract Spiral [4], Payday Fever [6]. Patron whispers: Maelstraeus — they measure profit in margins, margins in suffering, and suffering in silver. They do not measure the weight of marble.

• The Everflame (Church & Inquisition) – The priests, inquisitors, and relic-keepers who claim that the Eternal Flame is the only true sovereign. They offer legitimacy to whoever pays the tithe — and withdraw it from whoever forgets. Their power is in pulpits, processions, and the fear of excommunication. Timers: Heresy Index [4], Sanctuary Violation [6]. Patron whispers: Neither — the Everflame remembers, but the Vigil has learned to filter its truths. The flame’s truth is ash; the Vigil’s truth is silence.

Superimposed on these are the Ykrul creditors (who hold Ecktoria’s weight like a leash), the Black Banners (who hold its streets like a lease), and the Vigil (who hold its secrets like a knife — and sometimes use it). A wise politician learns to balance all three — and keeps a boat ready on the Dolmis.

The Vigil — Three Faces of the Secret Police

The Vigil is not one order but three, each claiming the mantle of the old imperial secret police. They do not cooperate. They do not war. They audit each other. They also audit the dead.

• The Censer-Knights (Orthodox, Everflame) — Hunters of untutored magic. They carry brass censers that smoke with bitter herbs and bells that ring once for a warning, thrice for a raid. They answer to the Synod and the High Priest, but their true loyalty is to the precedent — the law that magic must be licensed, indexed, and taxed. A Censer-Knight raid is heralded by a single, low bell. They are the most feared and the most public. They are also the most forgetful. Timers: Candle-Smoke Sweep [4], Heretic Index [6].

• The Unburnt (Patrician) — Bodyguards and spies of the Amber Palace. They wear red sashes and carry no visible weapons. Their job is to ensure that no whisper of rebellion, no bread riot, no unpaid toll ever reaches a patrician’s ear. They are experts at redaction — not killing witnesses, but making them forget. They have forgotten their own names. Timers: Palace Secrets [4], Redacted Memory [6].

• The Red Vigil (Maelstraeus’s Own) — Collectors and enforcers. They serve no noble, no church, no magistrate — only the record. They audit the wealthy for the wealthy, finding hidden obligations, unpaid tithes, and compound tolls that have grown teeth. A Red Vigil agent never demands coin. They demand names. They also demand silence — the silence of the forgotten. Timers: Toll Due [4], Roll of Names [6].

The Vigil’s three commanders meet once a month in the hypogeum of the Arena, under the gaze of statues that weep marble tears. No record is kept of these meetings. No one admits they happen. The common folk say that if you see a Vigil agent, it is already too late — but they cannot agree on which Vigil. The statues know. The statues do not tell.

Spades — Places (revised tone)

2. Petition Steps — Milk-stone worn smooth by a thousand hopeful knees. The petitions are written in ink and wax. The steps answer in silence, and the silence is a verdict: “Your claim is under review.” A clerk sweeps the steps at dawn. He never reads the petitions. He weighs them. The heaviest goes to the bottom of the pile. The pile is the city’s memory.

3. Tally-Ford Ferryhouse — Rope-drums thrum all day; the ferrymaster watches coin and banners. The rope-drums have a pattern. It spells the names of those who paid late — and the names of those who forgot they owed. The ferrymaster has a brother in the Red Vigil. They do not speak.

4. Everflame Cloister — Candle markets and side-chapels. The flame has a voice. It is the voice of the last liar who tested it. Lately, it speaks in a whisper. The whisper is always the same: “I remember. I remember. I remember.” Those who listen too long forget their own names and start reciting the names of the city’s forgotten dead.

5. Triumph Stairs — Marble worn smooth by ambition. The stairs have a name: “The Rise of the Forgotten.” No one remembers why. The patricians still climb them at noon, their retainers counting the steps aloud. They never count to nine. The ninth step is a gap. The gap is where a senator fell — or was pushed — or simply forgot to step. His ghost is still climbing. He has been climbing for a century.

6. Censor’s Hall — Red-lacquered tablets record every name, every shame. The tablets are redacted in invisible ink. The truth is underneath. The Vigil has the reagent. The reagent is made from the tears of the last censor who told the truth. He is still crying.

Heads — People & Factions (revised tone)

2. Torchbearer Child — Ash-smudged hands, knowing every shortcut through the ruins. The ruins are not old. They are last year’s fashionable quarter, abandoned when the mortgage was “reclassified.” She has never been lost. The ruins speak to her in the language of eviction notices. She reads them aloud to the rats. The rats pay her in stolen bread.

3. Decumanus-Master — Surveyor who “moves” stones. His rod is a finger bone. The bone belonged to the last surveyor who argued. He does not rewrite the map. He rewrites the memory of the map. “This street was always a cul-de-sac. You simply forgot.” The Vigil pays him in forgotten names.

4. Censer-Knight Commander Vorenus — His lantern burns green. He says it shows the truth. His shadow has two heads — one for each faction he has betrayed. He does not see the third head. The third head is his own, from a timeline where he kept his oath. It is weeping.

Clubs — Complications/Threats (revised tone)

2. Blocked Bridge — A funeral procession for a pauper who died in debt. The law says the corpse cannot cross until the toll is paid. The family has no coin. The law does not accept stories. The corpse is beginning to smell, and the Hollow is beginning to notice a weight that cannot be buried. The Vigil is taking notes on who stops to help.

3. Border Dispute — A surveyor has moved a boundary stone three feet east. The new map shows your warehouse now stands on a public thoroughfare. The old map is in the archive. The archive wing collapsed last spring. The memory of the boundary now exists only in the cracked floor of the basilica, and the basilica is accepting sealed bids for “reparative memory.” The Vigil has already bid.

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage (revised tone)

2. Procession Permit [Leverage: Passage · Authority] — Move sacred flame through a crowded quarter; law walks with you. The permit is a torch. Carry it, and the city will part — or burn. The Vigil will follow. The flame will flicker when you lie. The permit is signed by a clerk who died three years ago. His ghost still signs.

3. Golden Edict [Leverage: Authority] — An exception carved in marble; precedent travels like law. The edict is a crack. The crack in the law is now an opening. The Vigil is already inside. They will leave a note. The note will say: “We remember. Do you?”

Quick use notes

• Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).

• Diamonds are codified outcomes (papers/favor/precedence) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo marble and fire motifs — statues that turn their heads, flames that burn blue, law that remembers every name — and also echo the Vigil’s presence: a cough in the crowd, a seal on a document you did not stamp, a mirror that shows a different face. The different face is always older. It is always watching.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Imperial Ruins: Every district bears half-collapsed arcades, serving as markets, courts, or shelters for mercenary companies. The Vigil knows every hidden passage.

• Competing Factions: Dukes, guilds, and priests stage processions that collide at bridges and squares, each claiming legitimacy. The Vigil collects bets on the outcome.

• Monuments as Weapons: Statues, obelisks, and colonnades are not only symbols — they are barricades, rallying points, and high ground when the city riots. The Vigil has a map of which statues can be toppled.

• Everflame Orthodoxy: The basilicas preach unity, but each sermon is a coded signal for a political camp. The High Priest plays balance while cultivating his own following. The Vigil decodes every sermon.

• Black Banner Contracts: Foreign mercenaries fill the gaps left by a shrinking citizen levy, their loyalty secured only by steady coin. The Vigil audits their pay.

• The Amber Palace Quarantine: The patricians have not left the palace in a decade. No one is certain if they are prisoners or patrons. The Vigil maintains the perimeter — and delivers the wine.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Saints & Cults):

  • St. Marcellus of the Gilded Scale (Mykkiel) — The Justiciar. His order enforces unwritten laws; reading a sealed precedent binds the reader to enforce it. His shrine is the Censor’s Hall. The Vigil keeps a copy of every precedent.

  • St. Valeria of the Serpent (Isoka) — The Shedding Saint. Pilgrims who confess at her chapel forget one sin — and one kindness. Her mosaic shows a snake eating its tail. The Vigil uses her chapel to erase memories.

  • St. Lucia of the Undying Flame (Oath of Flame & Light) — The Witness of Embers. Any oath sworn over her shrine’s flame cannot be broken; the breaker sees their own face in every wave until they drown. The Vigil swears oaths there — and never breaks them.

  • The Reckoner (Maelstraeus) — The Tally Keeper. A mystery cult of coin-house factors. They offer credit at the cost of a hidden toll that compounds in blood. The Red Vigil are their collectors.

  • The Ember Prefect (Heretic Cult) — A schism that believes the flame should not be contained. They meet in the arena hypogeum, chanting the Unspoken Ninth Citation. The Grand Magistrate has outlawed them three times. The Vigil has infiltrated them twice.

  • The Velvet Mask (Livaea) — A secret society of patricians who worship pleasure as the only truth. Their rites are said to last nine days. No one has ever left a rite unchanged. The Vigil watches their parties — and reports to the Unburnt.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord run a hospice in the Shatterline Bazaar. They ask no payment — but they cut threads. A renegade Sister hides among the arena slaves, trying to untie her cord from a coin-house weight. The Vigil has her file.

• Malachai, the Chained Angel: A silver coin that never spends circulates among the grain-prefects. Take it, and your store never runs dry — but the coin will reappear in the mouth of a starving child. The Red Vigil uses it to mark those who owe.

• The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Ecktorian psions are called “Flame-Readers.” They see the future in the Everflame’s flicker. The High Priest employs three — and has never trusted a forecast that didn’t smell of smoke. The Vigil employs their apprentices.

• The Threshold Compendium: The Imperial Arena is a Class IV Poltergeist site — the collective rage of every gladiator who died for the crowd. Saikou Ira would ring a bell eight times and leave a wreath of laurel. The Vigil rings the bell nine times. The Arena answers.

• The Ninth: In any Ecktorian court, the ninth citation of precedent voids all previous. The wise stop at eight and settle. Those who cite the ninth hear a faint laughter from the marble walls — and their cases are never heard again. The Vigil cites the ninth often. The laughter does not bother them.

Ecktoria Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Flame: Crumble a crust into the Everflame. Ignore the first Bread Riots penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Ribbon: Tie a single knot in a coin-house credit ribbon. Cancel Frozen Purse or take –1 die on your next trust roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Marble: Whisper a dead debtor’s name into a statue’s ear. Gain +1 Effect when collecting from their heirs this scene, but mark Obligation to the Grand Magistrate. [SUPERSTITION]

• Spit on the Seal: Before signing any contract, spit on the wax seal. If it sizzles, the Vigil has a copy. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from city guards or rival factions.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby crowds or ceremonial processions.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for patrols or inquisitors.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or ceremonial opportunity.

• Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: City authorities or noble house becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to crowd movement or procession.

• Foe Appears: A rival faction member or city official arrives on scene.

• Gear Trouble: A piece of equipment becomes Compromised/Neglected.

• Lock/Barrier: A simple obstacle now requires a test to overcome.

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Additional guards, mercenaries, or zealots arrive.

• Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — procession turns violent/boundary dispute erupts/patron turns.

• Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.

• Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.

Major Turns (4+ SB)

• Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.

• Authority Arrival: High Priest, Grand Magistrate, or Duchess-Regent intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — procession erupts/arena gate opens/monument collapses.

• Patron Omen: Divine/arcane forces take notice — flame speaks/blessing lost/curse manifests.

• Narrative Pivot: The story takes an unexpected turn that reframes objectives.

Region-Specific SB Options

• Ecktoria (Marble & Fire): Statues turn their heads, flames burn blue, ceremonial masks appear in windows.

• Ecktoria (Procession): Crowds chant your name, banners block your path, trumpets announce your arrival.

• Ecktoria (Patronage): Seals break in your hand, favors are revoked, noble houses compete for your allegiance.

• Ecktoria (The Vigil): A seal appears on your documents that you did not stamp. A cough from the crowd sounds like your name. Your reflection in a polished shield has a red sash.

Extensions (Plug-in)

• Cross-Region Hooks (optional draws):

  • Aeler True Masons bid to shore a failing aqueduct; accepting stabilizes Aftershock but grants them soft leverage in the ward. The Vigil audits the contract.

  • Aelinnel Green-Market broker offers “truth-credit” on court gossip; pay later in favors or names. The Vigil pays in silence.

  • Black Banner retainer parade demands back pay on the Triumph Stairs; crowd sympathy tilts your next parley. The Vigil arrests the ringleader.

• Faction Entanglements During Travel (use en route or on city entry):

  • If the party holds any Condotta Diamonds, begin with Bread Riots at +1 segment (mercenary grain trains re-routed).

  • Entering with an Underway Pass (Aeler) grants +1 Position on Aqueduct Walk scenes but ticks Ducal Conflict once (guild jealousy). The Vigil notes your pass.

  • Carrying Green Market tags downgrades one Censor’s Hall action but flags Inquisitorial Visit at the next temple. The Vigil compares tags.

• Trade Good Consequences (pick 1 when a haul sells):

  • Arena Steel → street duels spike → start Arena Spill at 1. The Vigil collects the weapons.

  • Relic Fragments → basilica prestige swings → tick Church Purge or grant Basilica Audience. The Vigil inspects the relic.

  • Survey Rights → boundary re-plat → downgrade one Border Dispute or upgrade a rival’s. The Vigil updates the map.

• Diplomatic Favor (minor currency):

  • Earn by resolving a public scene without bloodshed (Forum, Procession, Coin-House).

  • Spend 1 to reduce DV of a permit/audience by 1, or to ignore Blocked Bridge for one crossing.

  • Holding 2+ makes you “interesting”: start a Red List [4] that advances on snubbed patrons. The Vigil adds your name.

• Reputation Echoes (soft power):

  • Crowd-Loved (Laurel-Deed): first time per session you face a mob, set Position one step safer. The Vigil watches how the mob loves you.

  • Coin-House Trusted (Credit): ignore the first Frozen Purse; next time, it returns at +1 severity. The Vigil audits your credit.

  • Clerically Vouched (Everflame): downgrade one Inquisitorial Visit; if abused, promote Church Purge. The Vigil has a copy of your voucher.

Monuments as Mechanics (opulence with teeth)

• Processional Geometry: When acting on the Triumph Stairs, choose: +1 Effect or –1 Heat; on a miss, Rerouted Triumph advances. The Vigil stands at the top of the stairs, watching.

• Aqueduct Leverage: Securing an aqueduct span grants a one-scene high ground tag in any linked ward; if collateral hits, tick Aftershock. The Vigil knows where the aqueduct leaks.

• Forum Acoustics: Rally speeches at the Grand Forum grant an extra assist die if at least 20 witnesses; failure spawns Bread Riots at +1. The Vigil counts the witnesses.

Plug-in SB Conversions (Ecktoria flavor)

• Any 1 SB may become Crowd Drift: shift the scene’s terrain in favor of or against you (bridges clog, stairs clear).

• Any 2 SB may become Seal Revoked: void one paper (Permit/Chit/Indulgence); to avert, sacrifice Diplomatic Favor.

• On 3+ SB offer Patron Bargain: accept a visible mark (ribbon, laurel brand) to halve consequences; start a Patron Weight [6].

Hidden Orders & Ancient Conspiracies (d12 hooks)

1. The Ash Senate – a roll of “extinguished” patrician lines still voting by proxy through funerary guilds. The Vigil has the key.

2. Surveyors of the Ninth Mile – decumanus-masters who can move boundaries with ritual math; a lost rod sets precedent across the city. The Vigil owns the rod.

3. Lantern Tetrarchy – four basilica beadles who decide which miracles are counted; the fifth lamp was broken in a purge. The Vigil lit the purge.

4. The Red Marble Compact – coin-house founders who tithe 1 in 100 coins to a secret indemnity fund used to flip coups. The Red Vigil administers the fund.

5. Archivum Umbrae – censor clerks maintaining a shadow index of names that must not stand trial (yet). The Vigil reads the index nightly.

6. Peregrine Brotherhood – ferrymasters trading in sealed confessions; blackmail that floats. The Vigil buys the confessions.

7. The Laurel of Dust – a gladiators’ mutual that chooses which champions live long enough to hold office. The Vigil chooses the champions.

8. Aqueduct Collegium Obscura – engineers who keep a second set of sluice keys; droughts become elections. The Vigil has the third set.

9. Order of the Broken Obelisk – survey-cult that believes Mile-Zero is wrong and can re-found the city with one stone. The Vigil has the stone.

10. The Funeral Republic – undertakers running a parallel courier state through catacombs and wakes. The Vigil uses their couriers.

11. The Ember Vault – a sealed reliquary under the Arena; victors’ sweat was bottled for augury. The Vigil broke the seal.

12. Triumphal Maskers – procession costumers who encode heretical theses into robe pleats and torch patterns. The Vigil decodes the theses — and sometimes agrees.

Cults & Mystery Rites (d10)

1. Children of the Phoenix (rebirth by fire): ash-marks grant +1 die vs. fear in crowds; mark Fatigue if you hesitate near open flame.

2. Verdant Laurel (blood to marble, sap to coin): once/session turn 1 Harm into 1 Coin-House Credit; start a Green Weight [4].

3. Mask of the Thirteenth (forbidden procession step): walk through a riot unmolested; next parley with clergy begins one step worse.

4. Brotherhood of the River Tongue (truth ferried at night): ask the Dolmis one yes/no; a ferryman shows up later to collect a name.

5. Candlemakers of Ever (flame remembers lies): blue flame points to falsehood; the liar dreams of you for three nights (Exposure +1).

6. Sable Standard (war saint cult): your banner ignores morale checks once; start a Blood-Tithe [4] owed to the saint’s chapel.

7. The Ninth Bell (hour that is not kept): skip a queue or sentence; next edict you need arrives late (Delay SB free once).

8. Guild of Red Accountants (sin as tally): convert 2 SB into a Magistrate’s Postponement; add Karmic Weight [6].

9. The Marble Eaters (mortification sect): bite stone, gain +1 Effect resisting crowd crush; take Harm 1 (Stress) if you boast.

10. Torch of Saint Vessa (saint of necessary arson): sanctify a fire to purge a tag (Plague/Corruption); City Heat +2.

Religious Schisms & Trials

The Everflame Divide (choose a live schism)

1. Orthodox Basilica vs. Ember Reformers: Is miracle counted by law or kindled by need?

2. Laurel Theologians vs. Street Saints: Does glory flow down from triumphs or up from bread-lines?

3. Iconoclast Ward vs. Reliquary Keepers: Is the flame purer without images?

Schism Mechanics (table-facing)

• Heresy Index [0–6]: ticks when players publicize a stance, defy clergy, or wield cult rites in view. At 3: inquisitorial audits become common; at 6: Church Purge (Q) auto-triggers once/session until lowered.

• Sanctuary / Anathema Tags: locations acquire tags during arc scenes. Sanctuary: first harm in scene becomes Fatigue; Anathema: first social miss spawns “Proscribed Sigil.”

• Trial by Fire (mini-procedure, 3 beats):

  1. Assembly: set the forum/stair as arena; state thesis in one sentence (players or NPCs).

  2. Witness: three proofs (relic, miracle, precedent). Each proof: test Social/Arcana/Endurance vs. crowd DV; on success, reduce Index by 1 or gain Basilica Audience.

  3. Judgment: roll Crowd Mood (1d6): 1–2 mobs, 3–4 silent acceptance, 5–6 laurel toss (gain Laurel-Deed). If Index  ≥ 4, –1 to the roll.

Ecktoria – Marble and Fire

Starting Location: The Coin-House floor, marble cracked with soot lines, where votive candles burn beside melted icons.

“In Ecktoria, even faith must balance its ledgers, and the gods audit in ash.”

In… the Coin-House floor, a factor with smoke-singed rolls offers a purse. “The Lame King moves,” she says. “And the Basilica burns with him. The Amber Palace has not answered a summons in a month. The Vigil is asking questions. I suggest you find the answers before they find you.”

Regional Motifs

Coin-oaths, basilica relics, marble acoustics, augury smoke, Vigil seals.

Whispers to Offer

“Bid against the city,” “Pocket the relic shard,” “Name an innocent debtor,” “The Vigil’s informer sits in the corner.”

External Timers

Threat: Procession of Ash [6]; Community: Credit Panic [4]; Anchor: Basilica Choir [4]; Vigil: Red List [6].

Complications

Smoke speaks truths; coins stick to skin; a reliquary runs hot; a seal appears on your documents that you did not stamp.

Anchors at Risk

A choir novice; a patron account; a Vigil informer who owes you a favor.

Escalation Beat

The Basilica tolls a note only one PC hears. The Vigil hears it too.

Relief

Return the shard; pay a city-toll in blood or Boons; route the procession elsewhere; give the Vigil a name.

Boss Seeds (Cults & Conspiracies)

• The Ember Prefect (schismatic inquisitor): Phase [8] Citation → Censure → Auto-da-fé → Purge. Lair: Everflame Cloister. Counters: relic provenance, crowd-favor, rival sermon. Vigil twist: The Prefect was once a Vigil informer. The Vigil knows where he hides.

• The Surveyor-Primus (geomantic usurper): Phase [6] Re-plat → Dispossess → Erase. Lair: Mile-Zero. Counters: Aeler measure-rods, witness line, broken rod. Vigil twist: The Primus has a Red Vigil agent as a protégé.

• Phoenix of the Arena (miracle or hoax?): Phase [10] Hype → Immolation → “Rebirth” → Riot. Lair: Imperial Arena. Counters: doused ash, Mask of the Thirteenth, Everflame test. Vigil twist: The Phoenix is a Vigil experiment. The Unburnt want to contain it. The Red Vigil wants to sell tickets.

• The Velvet Mask (Livaea’s cult): Phase [8] Invitation → Masque → Price of Pleasure. Lair: The Amber Palace. Counters: an unbroken oath, a mirror with no reflection, a name spoken without desire. Vigil twist: The Vigil’s Unburnt faction attends every masque. They are not there to stop it.

Diamonds: Forbidden Leverage (add to §)

14. Shadow Index Leaf – remove one name from the Red List for a week; add Countercoup +1.

15. Ember Writ [Leverage: Authority] – sanction one cult rite as “orthodox” for a scene.

16. Surveyor’s Ninth Rod – redraw one ward line unnoticed (until dawn).

17. Vigil Seal (Red) [Leverage: Authority] – For one scene, the Red Vigil treats you as a contractor. The price will be collected later.

Cross-Contamination (fast ties)

• Aeler True Masons: backing an iconoclast audit grants shoring crews; bell-codes now gate temple entries. The Vigil has the bell-codes.

• Aelinnel Thorn Courts: hawthorn chaplains host “mirror sermons”; a basilica gains Sanctuary while a rival becomes Anathema. The Vigil watches both.

• Black Banners: war-chaplains monetize indulgences; clearing Payday risks +1 Heresy Index. The Vigil takes a cut.

Ecktoria’s decline is not collapse, but transformation. Wealth bleeds into patronage webs: a senator’s indulgence, a censor’s indulgence, a noble’s purse. The city’s great houses keep mercenary captains on retainer, while priests sell ritual processions as public theater and private favor. And everywhere, the Vigil watches — not to stop the rot, but to take notes.

Yet beneath the decay, two demons whisper. Maelstraeus teaches that every contract is a weapon, every obligation a leash. Livaea teaches that every desire is a chain, every pleasure a payment. The patricians who once ruled the world now rule only the Amber Palace, and the Amber Palace is a gilded cage. They do not see the bread riots. They do not hear the Vigil’s footsteps. They dance. They drink. They forget that the flame remembers everything.

For the GM: Patronage should function as both opportunity and trap. Any gift (a purse, permit, or charter) binds the receiver to service, but patrons can die, fall from favor, or suddenly proscribe what they once allowed. The Vigil offers a different kind of patronage: protection in exchange for information. A party that pays the Vigil in secrets may find doors opening — and other doors closing behind them. To emphasize the decadence and dread:

• Tie rewards to visible symbols (seals, ribbons, laurel crowns, Vigil marks) that can be stolen, forged, or voided.

• Let rival patrons issue conflicting “safe-conducts,” forcing players to choose whose favor matters more.

• Use processions, funerals, or trials as arenas for social contests, where patronage weights surface and shift allegiances.

• Introduce the Vigil’s Faction Timer [6] to track which Vigil faction (Censer-Knights, Unburnt, Red Vigil) has the most leverage over the party. When it fills, that faction makes a demand.

Patronage in Ecktoria is not mere background — it is the engine of politics, coin, and survival. And beneath it all, Maelstraeus and Livaea are writing a contract. The city is the collateral. The poor are the interest. The patricians are the signature — and they signed in blood long ago.

Acasia

The Broken Marches.

“Acasia was the first province the Utaran Empire swallowed and the last it spat out. Now it is a wound that will not close – a place where roads loop back on themselves and bridges lead to the same shore. The Curse is not a spell. It is a memory, and the land has a very long memory. In these marches, memory is the only currency that does not devalue.”
— Lady Isolde of the Scar

What do people eat for breakfast? Hardtack soaked in broth – if you have broth. If not, hardtack and hope. The granaries have been empty for three winters. The merchants sell grain at famine prices. The duke says the roads are too dangerous for caravans. The farmers say the duke owns the caravans.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To name the dead. Every Acasian child has a list of ancestors they repeat at bedtime. The list gets shorter each generation. Not because children forget. Because the dead are forgetting themselves.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Whether they have a shadow. The Curse takes shadows first. A man without a shadow is not cursed – he is already gone. His body just hasn’t stopped moving yet.

What is the most common crime? Bridge-toll evasion. The roads are unsafe, the ferries are unreliable, but the barons still demand payment for crossings no one can make. The crime is not in refusing to pay. The crime is in being caught trying.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Curse began with a promise broken on the Blackwood Bridge. A baron promised his daughter to a lord of the old forest. He married her to a lowland knight instead. The forest remembered. The forest is still waiting for the wedding.

Where do people go when they die? Into the Blackwood. Burial is forbidden – the ground rejects the dead. Bodies are carried to the tree-line and left. The wood takes them. Sometimes, at dusk, you can see them walking between the trunks. They do not look back.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You walk the Broken Mile – a stretch of road that collapsed into the river eight years ago. If you reach the far side, you are forgiven. If you fall, you were not sorry enough. No one has reached the far side in seven years.

What is the most important festival? The Counting of the Names (midwinter). Every village lists its dead aloud, from oldest to newest. If a name is forgotten, the ghost walks until someone remembers. The list grows longer each year. The memory grows shorter.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The duke’s son is a ghoul. He was lost in the Blackwood as a child. They found him three days later, pale and smiling. He does not age. He does not eat. He only watches. The servants know. The servants do not speak.

Acasia — “Broken Marches”

Key Demographic: Human

Entanglements

To the West:

Ecktoria and the heart of the Utaran Empire. Grain flows east, mercenaries flow west; the Vigil’s agents are thick in every free company camp.

To the North West:

Ykrul raids occasionally slip through the Aelerian foothills. The wolf-standards are a winter terror; the Curse does not slow them.

To the North:

Aeler under-passages cost a hefty fee. The mountain holds are the only safe route across the high passes, and the True Masons charge in iron, not coin.

To the East:

Vhasian ambition rises and falls with the chaos within. Acasians learn to fear the “High Season” of the Sun Court – a season of chevauchée and burning barns.

Current Hook

The Empire conquered it first. The Empire left it last. Now neither remembers why.

Core Conflict

Players are caught between the Margravine’s iron law, the Lame King’s desperate legitimacy, and the Curse that devours broken promises.

The One Thing Only This Region Does

Geometric Haunting: Roads loop, bridges demand tolls in memory, and contracts signed on bridges become physically binding curses.

The Ninth Taboo Manifestation

In any Acasian scene, the ninth toll paid at a bridge is never the last. The wise pay eight and barter for the ninth. The ninth toll is collected by a child with no name. The child is the Curse’s enforcer.

The Price

Players sacrifice memory, identity, or future labor to gain power. Every reward requires a gamble: memory loss, Hollow attention, Obligation, or Corruption.

Faction Triad

Faction in the Realm:

Quick Reference

Tagline: The Empire conquered it first. The Empire left it last. Now neither remembers why.

Margravine of the Broken March (Elite): “The tithe must be paid, not merely offered. A promise written in ash and sealed with iron will is worth more than a thousand gold coins scattered on the wind. The Empire is dead. Its weight is not.”

Hedge-Witch (Commoner): “Don’t cross the Pale Causeway at dusk, especially not if you’ve got a silver tooth. The bridge’ll remember it, and next time you pass, it’ll want more than just your footfall. In Acasia, every road has a memory. The question is who pays the toll. The Empire forgot. That’s why it fell.”

Genre / Mood: Low-fantasy wasteland, mercenary realism, cursed borderlands.

Starting Location: The Pale Causeway’s last inn, walls soot-blackened by coal and a century of gossip. A bounty poster flutters beside a half-empty hearth. The innkeeper is a one-eyed woman who pours small beer without asking. A stranger at the bar offers a sealed contract: retrieve a dowry chest from a Blackwood matriarch before the Margravine’s feast day. “The chest contains a claim, not coin,” the stranger whispers. “But a claim in Acasia is worth more than gold—it is a key to a bridge that does not loop. The Empire’s surveyors marked it. Then they died.”

Acasia was the first province the Utaran Empire swallowed when it turned its eyes east. The legions marched through the Pale Causeway, crushed the hill-kings, and planted their eagles in the Blackwood. For centuries, Acasia was the empire’s eastern breadbasket and its first line of defense. Grain flowed west; coin flowed east. The roads were straight, the bridges paid, and the Curse was just a farmer’s whisper.

Then the empire rotted from within. When the last Utaran emperor died and the provinces broke away, Acasia lingered for another hundred years — a ghost province whose governors still stamped Utaran seals, whose courts still cited Utaran law, whose coins still bore the emperor’s face. No one came from the west to collect the taxes. No one sent legions to enforce the peace. The Acasians kept the forms, because they had never learned to keep anything else. They had no native king, no unifying faith, no common tongue beyond the legionary’s Utaran. They were the empire’s children, and when the empire died, they became orphans.

For a century they clung to the ruins. Then the plagues came. Then the famines. Then the Curse — a slow rot of roads that led nowhere, bridges that looped back on themselves, villages that woke to find their neighbors’ houses standing empty. The old imperial surveys became maps of places that no longer existed. The grain blights turned the storehouses to dust. The free companies, once hired to keep the peace, became the only law.

That was two hundred years ago.

Now Acasia is a wound that will not close. It sits between Ecktoria to the west and Vhasia to the east, claimed by both, ruled by neither. Petty kings raise their banners in burned keeps. Free Companies trade loyalty like grain, swapping colors mid-march. The Margravine of the Broken March keeps a tally of feuds, binding bloodlines to her feast days. The Lame King travels on a throne carried by debtors, making law by pointing. And the Curse — the nameless thing that makes crossroads turn back on themselves — is not a myth. It is the weight of broken promises, and Acasia is drowning in them.

South, on the marshy islands of the Amaranthine coast, the city of Silkstrand squats on reclaimed silt, trading in silk, silver, and secrets. The Acasians call it “the Sink” — a place where the Curse thins, but where law is measured in coin, not custom. Few Acasians go there. Fewer return unchanged.

What you notice first: The smell of mildew on old parchment and wet ash. The way every milestone has been recarved — first in Utaran, then in a half-dozen failed scripts. The silence of a village that heard you coming and chose not to open its gates.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never sign a contract on a bridge. The river is a witness, and it never forgets a signature. The Empire’s last governor signed a treaty on the Pont-du-Tithe. No one knows what it said. The bridge remembers.

Regional Mood: Famine, Ambition, and the Ghost of Empire

Here, the past is not a memory — it is a geometry. The Utaran Empire left behind roads that lead to nowhere, laws that contradict each other, and a hunger that no harvest can fill. Acasia’s petty kings hold court in burned keeps, their crowns forged from iron nails pulled from famine coffins. The Margravine keeps a tally of feuds, binding bloodlines to her feast days. Free Companies trade loyalty like grain, swapping colors mid-march. And beneath it all, the Curse waits. It is not a monster. It is a wrong turn: the bridge that leads back to the same shore, the milestone that faces the wrong direction, the bell that tolls for no funeral. In Acasia, the land itself has become a broken promise, and the fine print is written in mildew.

The Curse is not ancient. It is a legacy. Some say it began with the last Imperial Survey, when the surveyors tried to map every bridge, every ford, every toll—and in the measuring, broke something. Others say it was the plagues, when the dead were buried in unmarked pits and the priests forgot the proper rites. The hedge-witches say it was the empire’s own fault: they ruled Acasia for centuries but never taught the Acasians to rule themselves. When the empire left, the land had no king, no law, no memory. The Curse filled the gap.

Now the Margravine and the Lame King fight over the scraps, while free companies sell their swords to whichever claimant pays first. The hedge-witches tie red thread around bridges and leave offerings of salt at crossroads, hoping to keep the Curse from spreading. The villagers pray to saints the Empire forgot. And the roads — the old imperial roads — still march west toward a capital that no longer exists. The capital does not answer. But the roads keep marching.

The Curse of Acasia (Campaign Timer)

The Curse is a slow accumulation of broken promises and unpaid tolls. Track it with a visible timer:

Curse Awakening [10] – Advances when:

• A contract is broken on a bridge (+1)

• A character speaks the ninth word in a negotiation (+1)

• The party ignores a road omen (GM spends 1 SB to tick +1)

• A free company flips allegiance mid-contract (+2)

At 4 segments: Navigation rolls in Acasia gain +1 DV (roads shift). At 8 segments: The Curse Stirrs complication triggers once per session (roll on the table below). At 10 segments: The Curse manifests as a physical threat — a bridge eats a village, a road swallows a patrol, or the ghost of the last emperor rides.

Curse Stirrs (d10) When the timer reaches 8, roll 1d10 for an immediate complication:

1. A milestone points the wrong way. Navigation DV +2 for the scene.

2. A bridge you crossed earlier now loops back to where you started. Lose 1 segment of progress.

3. A toll collector’s ghost demands payment in a currency that no longer exists. Pay 1 Boon or mark 1 Fatigue.

4. A child with no shadow offers directions. If you follow, you arrive at your destination — but you forget why you came.

5. The Margravine’s seal cracks. One of your Diamonds (writ, charter, token) becomes a forgery until you re-witness it.

6. The Hollow’s breath freezes the ford. Crossing requires a Desperate roll; on a Miss, you lose 1 Supply (drowned).

7. A ghostly legionary patrol marches past at midnight. If you watch them, you gain +1 die on the next roll against imperial constructs. If you speak to them, they demand a password that died with the empire.

8. The bridge you are standing on remembers a name you have never spoken. It whispers it in your ear. Tick Curse Awakening +1; you may also learn a secret about the bridge’s history.

9. A tax collector’s ghost appears with a ledger. It demands payment on a debt that is older than your grandfather. Pay 1 Boon or lose a memory.

10. The crossroads shift. Three roads become one; the path you choose leads to a place you have already been. Lose 1 segment of progress and roll again.

Prominent NPCs of Acasia

Names of Acasia

Inspired by the martial duchies of a fallen southern empire: clipped Utaran, war-names, and the hard consonants of mountain keeps. Many families still bear Utaranized surnames, though they have not spoken the language in generations.

(Pass/Ruin/Toll-Town)

Broken milestone on the old Imperial Road; borders “moved” overnight. Vine-terrace hillside with an abandoned press; strangler ivy owns it now.

— Places

2. Broken Milestone [RUIN] [OMEN]
   On the old Imperial Road; borders “moved” overnight.
   The stone has been chiseled seven times. The last mark is still wet. The first was cut by Utaran legionaries.
   Mechanical hook: If you camp here, roll Spirit + Lore (DV 4). On success, you learn the true border line (+1 die on navigation for this leg). On failure, the milestone moves while you sleep — start a Lost Ways [4] timer.

3. Vine-Terrace Hillside [RUIN] [HARVEST]
   Abandoned press; strangler ivy owns it now.
   The ivy has grown around a skeleton. The skeleton still holds a wine cup. The vintage was the year the last governor left.
   Mechanical hook: Foraging here gives 1 Supply, but the ivy is possessive. On a Miss, you are entangled (Body+Athletics DV 3 to break free) and tick Curse Awakening +1.

4. Toll-Bridge Town [TOLL] [BOUNDARY]
   Over a cold river; two tolls, no receipts.
   The second toll is collected by a child. The child does not speak. The bridge was built by the legions. It remembers their footsteps.
   Mechanical hook: Crossing costs 1 Boon or 1 Supply. If you refuse, the child writes your name in chalk. The bridge will demand double next time.

5. Wolfstairs Pass [MOUNTAIN] [AMBUSH]
   Switchbacks beneath a stonefall cliff.
   The stones were placed by a landslide that knew your name. The pass was the empire’s eastern gate. No army has crossed it in a century.
   Mechanical hook: Navigation DV +2. On a Partial, you are spotted by a free company scout — start Rival Hunt [4].

6. Sootfall Abbey Ruins [RUIN] [DEATH]
   Bell tower intact; crypts breathing.
   The breathing is a prayer. The monks are still down there. They have been praying for the empire’s soul for two hundred years.
   Mechanical hook: A character who prays with the monks (Spirit+Lore DV 3) clears 1 Fatigue, but the monks ask for a story about a broken promise. Refusal ticks Curse Awakening +1.

7. Hill-Motte [FORTIFICATION] [WAR]
   Fresh palisade; ditch scattered with caltrops.
   The caltrops are from a siege that ended last week. The bodies are still rotting. The siege was over a bridge toll. The bridge has not collected in fifty years.
   Mechanical hook: The lord of the motte will hire the party as mercenaries (1 Supply). If they refuse, he accuses them of being spies — start Feud Spark [4].

8. Border-Stone Ring [BOUNDARY] [OMEN]
   Carved with seven crowns; each points wrong.
   The crowns belong to kings who never existed. The stones remember them anyway. The eighth crown was the empire’s. It is not carved. It is implied.
   Mechanical hook: A character who touches the eighth (empty) crown must test Spirit + Endurance (DV 4). On failure, they gain the Condition Marked by the Curse (GM may spend 1 SB to worsen Position in any negotiation).

9. Blackwood Charcoalers’ Hollow [FOREST] [WITCHCRAFT]
   Witch-posts at every path.
   The witch-posts were made from the gibbets of tax collectors. The tax collectors still swing. They were collecting for the empire. They have not stopped.
   Mechanical hook: A hedge-witch offers to read your fortune (1 Boon). On a success, she warns of the next Curse Stirrs trigger. On a failure, she demands a memory (erase a minor fact).

10. Salt-Road Ford [RIVER] [DEATH]
    Rains expose old bones in the chalk banks.
    The bones are from three wars. They are not all human. The ford was the empire’s salt route. The salt is still in the water.
    Mechanical hook: Crossing costs 1 Fatigue (cold). If you drink the water, test Endurance DV 3. On failure, you see the ghosts of the drowned for the next scene (–1 die on all actions).

11. Iron Mine Adits [UNDERGROUND] [WHISPERS]
    Held by a miners’ commune; the air is full of whispers.
    The whispers are the mine’s memory. It remembers every collapse. The last collapse was the year the empire fell. The miners are still digging.
    Mechanical hook: The commune will trade 1 Supply for a miner’s story. If the story is true, they also reveal a hidden exit — treat the next travel timer as 2 segments shorter.

12. Margravine’s Hunting Lodge [NOBLE] [SECRETS]
    Tapestries of victories that never were.
    The tapestries were woven by a blind weaver. The threads are from her own hair. The victories are Utaran. The weaver was Acasian.
    Mechanical hook: A character who studies the tapestries (Wits+Lore DV 4) learns a noble’s secret (a String). On a failure, the blind weaver’s ghost asks for a favor — start Weaver’s Debt [4].

13. War-Camp City [WAR] [REFUGE]
    Tents around a burned keep; every banner claims the throne.
    The keep was burned by its own lord. He did not want to share the heat. The lord was the last imperial governor. He died in the fire.
    Mechanical hook: To enter the camp, you must swear a temporary oath to a claimant. Breaking it ticks Curse Awakening +2.

14. The Pale Causeway [ROAD] [CURSE]
    The last high road that survives the spring thaws.
    The causeway is made of bones. The bones are from the workers who built it. The workers were Acasian. The empire paid them in promises.
    Mechanical hook: Crossing the Causeway at dusk forces a Spirit + Endurance test (DV 4). On failure, you gain the Condition Debtor to the Dead (any spirit can demand one service from you). On a critical failure, the Curse Awakening timer ticks +2 immediately.

(Petty Crowns/Priests/Companies)

Tithe-collector’s runner with a tally-rod and an empty stomach; roadside prior with three lay brothers guarding a relic.

— People & Factions

2. Tithe-Collector’s Runner [AUTHORITY] [HUNGER]
   Tally-rod, empty stomach, and a list of names.
   His tally-rod has notches from a dozen villages. The villages are now empty. He collects for the Margravine. She does not ask where the grain goes.
   Debt they owe: He owes his soul to the Margravine’s ledger. If you give him a name from the list, he will mark it paid — but the ghost of that name will haunt you.
   Price of aid: 1 Supply or a story about a tax collector who died hungry.

3. Roadside Prior [FAITH] [RELIC]
   Three lay brothers guarding a relic.
   The relic is a finger bone. The prior claims it belonged to a saint who starved to death. The saint was an Utaran missionary. The Acasians ate his offerings.
   Debt they owe: The prior’s order swore to feed the poor. They have failed. He will help anyone who shares a meal.
   Price of aid: A crust of bread and a prayer. If you refuse, the relic’s ghost will follow you (–1 die on all stealth rolls for one scene).

4. Hedge-Witch [WITCHCRAFT] [KNOWLEDGE]
   Knows which bridges eat travelers.
   Her price is a story. The story must have a bad ending. She has heard all the good ones. The bridges listen when she speaks.
   Debt they owe: She once cursed a tax collector. The curse still echoes. If you help her lift it, she will teach you a route that ignores the Curse once.
   Price of aid: A story that ends with a death. If the story is true, she gives you a Salt Ward (Diamond). If false, the bridges will remember you.

5. Free Company Captain [MERCENARY] [FATIGUE]
   Pike and shot between contracts.
   He has served three kings this year. He does not remember their names. His first contract was with a man who called himself emperor. The man is dead. The contract is not.
   Debt they owe: He owes back pay to his company. If you pay 1 Supply, he will fight for you for one scene.
   Price of aid: A contract signed in blood. If you break it, the Curse Awakening ticks +2.

6. River Reeve [LAW] [CORRUPTION]
   Rents every boat twice.
   His paper is a single page folded into a boat. The other half is elsewhere. The other half is in the Margravine’s counting house. She does not know.
   Debt they owe: He stole the half-page from the Margravine. If you return it, he will waive all tolls for a season.
   Price of aid: A bribe of 1 Boon or a secret about the river. He will also betray you for a better offer.

7. Salt-Baron [TRADE] [VIOLENCE]
   Hired blades; owns the ford and your timetable.
   His salt is gray. It was cut with ashes from a burned village. The village refused to pay the imperial salt tax. The empire is dead. The salt is not.
   Debt they owe: He took a loan from the Margravine’s counting house. If you pay it (2 Supply), he will give you a Salt Charter (pass any ford free).
   Price of aid: A wagon of gray salt. Using it in a bargain gives +1 die to intimidation, but the ghost of the burned village will haunt the transaction.

8. Blackwood Matriarch [NOBLE] [VENGEANCE]
   Tends the feud like a garden.
   Her garden grows tombstones. She waters them with tears—her enemies’. Her grandmother was the last Acasian to hold an imperial title. The empire took it back. She has not forgotten.
   Debt they owe: The empire stole her grandmother’s title. If you recover the original charter (in the Sealed Dowry Chest), she will name you her heir.
   Price of aid: A lock of hair from a blood enemy. She will not say whose.

9. Ex-Imperial Surveyor [KNOWLEDGE] [LONELINESS]
   Has the last accurate map.
   The map shows villages that no longer exist. The surveyor visits them anyway. She leaves offerings of bread and ink. The ghosts do not eat. They watch.
   Debt they owe: She lost the map’s key — a brass compass. Find it, and she will draw you a route that ignores the Curse for one journey.
   Price of aid: A true name of a dead village. She will trade a secret for it.

10. “King” of Three Villages [CLAIMANT] [IRON]
    Iron-nail crown, iron-will taxes.
    His crown was a plowshare. He reversed the curse. The curse reversed back. He does not know.
    Debt they owe: He borrowed the plowshare from a hedge-witch. The witch wants it back. Return it, and he will grant you a tax waiver.
    Price of aid: A day’s labor in his fields. If you refuse, he accuses you of oath-breaking — start a Feud Spark [4].

11. Bride with No Dowry but a Claim [CLAIM] [DESPERATION]
    Daggers in the wedding chest.
    The claim is to a bridge that drowned. The bride intends to collect. The bridge was built by the legions. The legions are gone. The bridge is not.
    Debt they owe: Her dowry was the bridge’s toll. The Margravine seized it. If you help her collect, she will give you a Bridge Token (Diamond).
    Price of aid: A dagger from her chest. Using it in a duel gives +1 die, but the bridge’s ghost will claim the loser.

12. Margravine of the Broken March [AUTHORITY] [FEUD]
    Half saint, half tax roll.
    She has never lost a feud. Her tally stick is her sword. Her great-great-grandfather was the last imperial governor’s clerk. He stole the seal. She still has it.
    Debt they owe: She is losing her grip on the province. If you settle a feud for her, she will give you a Blood-Peace Charter (Diamond).
    Price of aid: A signature on her tally stick. Signing binds you to her service until the feud is settled.

13. The Lame King [CLAIMANT] [FATIGUE]
    Traveling throne; makes law by pointing.
    His throne is a sedan chair carried by debtors. They owe him everything. He owes the Margravine a bridge toll. He has not paid. The bridge remembers.
    Debt they owe: He cannot pay the toll. If you pay it for him (2 Supply), he will name you his heir for a day — you may issue one royal decree.
    Price of aid: A ride on his throne. The debtors will carry you, but you will owe them a favor in return.

14. The Cursed Child of Silkstrand [MYTH] [OMEN]
    A rumor more than a person; her laughter ends sieges.
    She is said to be twelve years old. She has been twelve for a century. She was born on the day the last imperial governor died. She does not age. She does not forget.
    Debt they owe: She is the Curse’s accountant. If you find her, she will tell you how many bridges you owe.
    Price of aid: A name you have never spoken. She will write it in her ledger. The Curse will remember it forever.

(Feud/Levy/Weather/Curse)

Peat-fog; all horns sound like someone calling your name. Sudden levy—every traveler pressed for a day’s service. Bridge feud; rival banners drop the chain on your cart.

— Complications/Threats

2. Peat-Fog [WEATHER] [FEAR]
   All horns sound like someone calling your name.
   The name is not yours. Answer it, and the fog will take you. The fog is the empire’s last breath.
   Mechanical hook: Navigation rolls are Desperate for the scene. On a Miss, a ghostly tax collector appears. It demands a story or a memory. Refusal ticks Curse Awakening +1.

3. Sudden Levy [AUTHORITY] [TIME]
   Every traveler is pressed for a day’s service.
   The levy master has a list. Your name is on it—in fresh ink. The list was copied from an imperial tax roll. The roll is two hundred years old.
   Mechanical hook: Pay 1 Supply or serve. Serving forces a Spirit + Endurance test (DV 4). On failure, you gain the Condition Impressed (–1 die to all actions until you escape). Start a Levy Escape [4] timer.

4. Bridge Feud [BOUNDARY] [VIOLENCE]
   Rival banners drop the chain on your cart.
   The chain was forged from a broken oath. It rattles when liars approach. The oath was sworn to the emperor. The emperor is dead. The chain does not care.
   Mechanical hook: The chain will only lift if you swear an oath to one of the feuding parties. Swearing ticks Curse Awakening +1 (oaths made on bridges always compound). Refusing forces a fight — treat as a Cap 2 adversary.

5. Grain Blight [HARVEST] [FEAR]
   Doubles the tithe; refusal means torches at night.
   The blight has a face. It is the face of a tax collector who died hungry. The collector worked for the empire. The empire did not pay him.
   Mechanical hook: You may pay double (2 Supply) or refuse. Refusing starts a Village Hunt [4] timer. When full, the villagers attack at night (Cap 3 mob).

6. Scree Slide [MOUNTAIN] [BLOCKED]
   Seals the pass; the “safe” detour is owned by your enemy.
   The enemy raised the toll yesterday. He was expecting you. The pass was the empire’s eastern gate. It still remembers the legions.
   Mechanical hook: Pay 2 Supply to the enemy or find another way. Searching for another way forces a Wits+Lore roll (DV 5). On a failure, you lose 1 segment of progress and gain a Black Mark with the enemy.

7. Wedding Turns Ambush [SOCIAL] [TRAP]
   You are caught between two bloodlines.
   The bride’s veil is a shroud. The groom’s ring is a knife. The feud began when the empire divided the valley. The valley has not healed.
   Mechanical hook: You must choose a side or flee. Choosing a side gives you an ally (Cap 2) but starts a Feud Spiral [6] timer with the other. Fleeing costs 1 Fatigue and ticks Curse Awakening +1.

8. Witch’s Tithe Night [WITCHCRAFT] [DEBT]
   Lights move in the woods; owe nothing or else.
   The lights have voices. They are arguing over who should collect. They are the ghosts of imperial tax collectors. They have not stopped working.
   Mechanical hook: The ghosts demand a story. If you cannot tell one, they take 1 of your Boons (or 1 Supply). If you have nothing, they take a memory — lose 1 XP (refundable by a quest).

9. Pox Sign [DISEASE] [ISOLATION]
   On a village gate; your escorts desert you.
   The pox is a rumor. The desertion is real. The pox came with the last imperial supply train. The supply train never arrived.
   Mechanical hook: You must travel alone for the next leg (no assists). Start a Disease Timer [4]. When full, each PC gains 1 Fatigue.

10. Condotta Breaks [MERCENARY] [BETRAYAL]
    The Free Company flips colors mid-march.
    The new colors are the same as the old colors. The captain just wanted to raise morale. He was hired by the Margravine. He was also hired by the Lame King. He is collecting both salaries.
    Mechanical hook: The company now fights for your enemy. You may bribe them back (2 Supply) or fight them (Cap 3). Bribing ticks Curse Awakening +1 (broken loyalty compounds).

11. Heretic Preacher [FAITH] [RIOT]
    Sparks a march; toll-gates come down in splinters.
    The preacher’s text is a tax receipt. He reads it like scripture. The receipt was issued by the empire. It is still valid. No one knows to whom.
    Mechanical hook: The preacher will grant you safe passage through the riot if you give him a relic (any Diamond). If you refuse, the mob attacks (Cap 2, and you are separated from allies).

12. Imperial Pretender [CLAIMANT] [POLITICS]
    Arrives; every petty lord changes tabards.
    The pretender’s seal is a sunburst. The sunburst is slightly crooked. The seal was stolen from the last governor’s tomb. The governor’s ghost is following him.
    Mechanical hook: The pretender offers you a charter (Diamond) if you swear loyalty. Swearing ticks Curse Awakening +2 (the ghost of the governor will remember). Refusing makes him a permanent enemy (start a Pretender’s Hunt [6] timer).

13. River Overruns the Levee [WEATHER] [DESTRUCTION]
    The pontoon goes; your rivals don’t.
    The river’s name is “Debt.” It remembers every unpaid crossing. The empire’s engineers built the levees. They calculated the flood levels. They did not calculate the Curse.
    Mechanical hook: You lose 1 Supply (washed away). If you have no Supply, you lose 1 Boon instead. The GM may also tick Curse Awakening +1 (the river demands interest).

14. The Curse Stirrs [CURSE] [TRAP]
    No matter the road, you return to the same crossroads.
    The crossroads has a signpost. The arms are labeled “Regret,” “Hunger,” “The Same.” The post was planted by the last imperial surveyor. She is still walking.
    Mechanical hook: Roll on the Curse Stirrs table (see Regional Mood section). The party cannot leave until they pay a toll — a story, a memory, or a name.

(Papers/Claims/Safe-Conduct)

Toll-exemption plaque for one bridge (once); monastery letter for bed and bread on a named road.

— Rewards/Leverage

2. Toll-Exemption Plaque [TRAVEL] [ONCE]
   For one bridge (once).
   The plaque is a bronze leaf. Hold it up, and the toll-keeper will spit—but step aside. The leaf was minted by the empire. The empire’s mines are closed. The metal is still good.
   Curse cost: Using the plaque ticks Curse Awakening +1 (the bridge will remember your face). If you use it on a bridge that has already taken a toll, the plaque crumbles and the bridge’s ghost follows you for a day.

3. Monastery Letter [HOSPITALITY] [ONCE]
   For bed and bread on a named road.
   The letter is sealed with a wax tear. The monks will honor it—or they will not. The abbot was an imperial clerk. He still follows the old forms.
   Curse cost: The monks will ask you to pray for the dead. If you refuse, the letter burns and you gain a Black Mark with the monastery. If you pray, clear 1 Fatigue but tick Curse Awakening +1 (the dead listen).

4. Wine-Right [TRADE] [ONGOING]
   On an abandoned terrace; locals will work for shares.
   The wine is from a vine that grows over a mass grave. It tastes of iron. The grave holds the last imperial garrison. They were paid in promises.
   Curse cost: Drinking the wine gives +1 die to your next social roll, but the garrison’s ghosts will appear in your dreams. The GM gains 1 SB to use on a nightmare complication.

5. Condotta Contract [MERCENARY] [ONCE]
   A signed pike contract (one battle on your terms).
   The contract is written in blood. The blood is from the captain’s own finger. The contract was copied from an imperial legionary oath. The words have changed. The weight has not.
   Curse cost: If the contract is broken, tick Curse Awakening +2. The captain’s ghost will demand a new contract — signed in your own blood.

6. Tithe-Remission Writ [AUTHORITY] [ONCE]
   For a village; they owe you a season’s labor.
   The writ is stamped with a bell. The bell’s clapper is a finger bone. The bell was cast from melted imperial coinage. The coinage was debased. The bell rings true.
   Curse cost: Using the writ forces the village to work for you, but the bell’s ghost will follow you. Every season, you must offer it a story or lose 1 Boon.

7. Border-Stone Adjustment [BOUNDARY] [ONCE]
   Move a line two fields over.
   The adjustment is a lie. The truth is that the line was always there. The line was surveyed by the empire’s best geometers. They are all dead. Their measurements are not.
   Curse cost: The ghost of the surveyor will appear and demand you measure the new line with your own feet. Walk it exactly (8 steps) or lose 1 Fatigue and tick Curse Awakening +1.

8. Pass-Key Charm [TRAVEL] [ONGOING]
   Recognized by Pale Causeway watchmen.
   The charm is a knotted cord. Untie it to pass—or to stay. The cord was tied by an imperial courier. The courier’s route was swallowed by the Curse. The cord remembers the way.
   Curse cost: The charm works for one season. After that, the courier’s ghost will visit you. He will ask for a message to deliver. If you refuse, the charm becomes a curse — all roads lead back to the same crossing.

9. Sealed Dowry Chest [CLAIM] [MYSTERY]
   Of claims, not coin; certain doors open.
   The chest is locked with a riddle. The answer is a name you do not know. The name is the last imperial governor’s. He wrote it on the inside. He is the only one who has seen it.
   Curse cost: Opening the chest ticks Curse Awakening +3. The governor’s ghost will appear and offer a bargain: the name in exchange for a service. Refusing means the chest locks forever.

10. Mine-Share [RESOURCE] [ALLIANCE]
    In the commune; they fight like they mean it.
    The share is a pickaxe. The commune will lend you a miner—or a grave. The mine was opened by the empire’s first surveyors. They found iron. They also found something else. They did not name it.
    Curse cost: The miner will work for you, but the mine’s whispers will follow. Once per session, the GM may ask you to name something you found in the dark. If you lie, the miner dies.

11. Blood-Peace Charter [SOCIAL] [TRUCE]
    Suspend a feud long enough to move your wagons.
    The charter is a white ribbon. Blood will not be spilled while it flies—but blood will remember. The ribbon was woven by a hedge-witch. She used thread from a tax collector’s uniform. The collector is dead. The thread is not.
    Curse cost: The truce lasts one scene. After that, the feud returns with interest — both sides will demand a wergild from you. Pay 2 Supply or start a Double Feud [6].

12. Marriage Proxy [SOCIAL] [ALLIANCE]
    From the Margravine; bind a hill-king to your cause.
    The proxy is a wedding veil. The veil was worn by a ghost. The ghost was the Margravine’s grandmother. She married an imperial legate. The legate never came home.
    Curse cost: Using the proxy binds the hill-king to you — but the ghost will appear at your own wedding (or any celebration). She will ask for a dance. Refusing costs 1 Boon and ticks Curse Awakening +1.

13. The Lame King’s Traveling Writ [AUTHORITY] [ONCE]
    Troops must make way (for now).
    The writ is a broken scepter. The Lame King’s seal is a footprint. The footprint was pressed into wax by his grandfather. The grandfather was a free company captain. He could not write. He used his boot.
    Curse cost: The writ works only once. After that, the Lame King will send debtors to collect the scepter. If you refuse, start a King’s Hunt [6].

14. Curse-Redemption Rite (Temporary) [RITUAL] [ONCE]
    For one night, no crossroads can hold you.
    The rite is a whisper. The whisper is a name you have never spoken. The name is the Curse’s. It does not want to be spoken. It does not want to be silent. It wants to be paid.
    Curse cost: Using the rite clears all Curse Awakening segments for one night. The next morning, the Curse returns with double the segments. You cannot use the rite again in the same province.

Quick use notes

• Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).

• Diamonds are codified outcomes (papers/claims/safe-conducts) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo plague and curse motifs—crossroads that turn back on themselves, bells tolling for no funeral, banners blackened by mildew, the ghost of the empire in every milestone.

• Track the Curse Awakening [10] timer as a campaign-wide pressure. Use the Curse Stirrs table when it reaches 8.

Additional Features

• Feud as Currency: Any insult, accident, or rumor can birth a feud; the GM may replace an SB result with a feud-token tied to a petty lord or house. Feud-tokens act as reusable complications: once per scene, the GM can spend a feud-token to have a rival appear, a bridge close, or a village refuse aid.

• Rot & Tithe: Each market or harvest scene carries a risk of rot—add a pressure if food or coin are exchanged without a blessing or a seal. A failed roll may double the tithe or spoil stored supplies.

• The Curse Remembers: When roads or negotiations stall, the GM may quietly repeat imagery—crossroads, whispers, mildew—to remind players that Acasia itself resists resolution. If the party ignores three such omens, the Curse Stirrs complication triggers automatically.

• Empire’s Ghost: Any ancient imperial structure (milestone, bridge, fortress) may still be haunted by the echo of its original purpose. A character who makes an offering (a coin, a salute, a whispered oath) may gain +1 die on a single roll within sight of that structure. The offering must be sincere. The empire does not accept bribes. It accepts memory.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord run a hospice in a burned abbey. They ask no payment—but they cut threads. A renegade Sister hides among the charcoalers, trying to untie her cord from a Rothari death warrant. She says the empire’s last weight is still unpaid.

• The Threshold Compendium: The Pale Causeway is a Class II Anchor site—the ghosts of workers who died building it still carry stones. Saikou Ira would leave a silver coin in every crack. The workers do not spend the coins. They stack them. They are building something.

• Malachai, the Chained Angel: A silver coin that never spends circulates among the toll-collectors. Take it, and your passage is always free—but the coin will taste of blood every time the Causeway floods. The coin was minted in the empire’s last year. The emperor’s face is worn smooth.

• The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Acasian psions are called “Feud-Readers.” They taste the weight of old grudges in the water. The Margravine employs two—and has never trusted a settlement they didn’t whisper. They say the Curse is not a thing. It is a conversation. The empire is still talking.

• The Ninth: In any Acasian scene, the ninth toll paid at a bridge is never the last. The wise pay eight and barter for the ninth. The ninth toll is collected by a child with no name. The child is the Curse’s enforcer.

Acasian Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Milestone: Crumble a crust at a broken milestone. Ignore the first Peat-Fog penalty.

• Knot the Contract: Tie a single knot in a writ’s ribbon. Cancel Bridge Feud or take –1 die on your next negotiation (your choice).

• Name to the Blight: Whisper a dead tax collector’s name into a grain sack. Gain +1 Effect when avoiding tithes this scene, but mark Obligation to the Margravine.

Patronage here is as brittle as candle wax. The Rothari Clan holds their marches by fear and iron law—patronage from them is real, but cruel, demanding service in blood or levy. Elsewhere, noble names are little more than titles printed on parchment and sold like promises. The Margravine keeps a tally of feuds, binding bloodlines to her feast days, while mercenary captains trade loyalty for coin, switching colors with each bell.

To seek a patron in Acasia is to choose which hunger you will feed: the Rothari’s iron teeth, a Free Company’s purse, or the hollow blessing of a saint who may never have lived. Yet even false crowns cast shadows long enough to shelter those desperate enough to kneel. The empire is dead. Its weight is not. And the Curse is patient.

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from tithe-collectors or petty lords.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby Free Company patrols or village watchmen.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for feud-trackers or hedge-witches.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable road conditions.

• Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: River reeve or Free Company captain becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to fog or bridge closure.

• Foe Appears: A rival bloodline or toll-lord’s enforcer arrives on scene.

• Gear Trouble: A piece of equipment becomes Compromised/Neglected.

• Lock/Barrier: A simple obstacle now requires a test to overcome.

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Additional feud-kin, Free Company deserters, or Margravine’s guards arrive.

• Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes - contract voided/levy doubled/curse triggered.

• Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.

• Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.

Major Turns (4+ SB)

• Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.

• Authority Arrival: Margravine, Lame King, or Cursed Child intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically - fog thickens/bridge falls/curse loops.

• Patron Omen: Divine/arcane forces take notice - omen appears/blessing lost/curse manifests.

• Narrative Pivot: The story takes an unexpected turn that reframes objectives.

Region-Specific SB Options

• Acasia (Feud & Tithe): Toll collectors demand double, bloodlines take offense, wagons are seized as “payment.”

• Acasia (Rot & Famine): Grain blights spread, wells run dry, abandoned villages hold only ghosts.

• Acasia (Curse & Crossroads): Roads loop back, milestones point the wrong way, the same bridge appears twice.

• Acasia (Empire’s Ghost): A phantom legionary marches past, an imperial seal glows on a broken stone, a tax collector’s ghost demands arrears.

Boss Archetypes in Acasia

• The False King (Feud/Authority) — A petty lord or pretender who crowns themselves on the ruins of empire. Phases: Levy Demanded → Feud Declared → Hasty Coronation. Cracks: a Blood-Peace Charter suspends his authority; a Marriage Proxy binds him to a rival.

• The Witch of the Blackwoods (Witchcraft/Curse) — A hedge-witch, matriarch, or revenant who manipulates feuds and curses. Phases: Tithe of Fear → Curse of the Crossroads → Hollow Wedding. Cracks: a Curse-Redemption Rite breaks her hold; a Mine-Share gives the commune courage to defy her.

• The Tithe Collector (Greed/Extortion) — A bureaucrat-priest with writs, escorts, and the ability to summon feuds or famine with a single decree. Phases: Audit of Souls → Seizure of Grain → The Reckoning. Cracks: a Toll-Exemption Plaque voids his claim; a Wine-Right buys off his debtors.

• The Rotting Child (Mystery/Curse) — A folkloric horror tied to Acasia’s plague of false crossroads. Phases: Laughter in the Fog → The Bridge That Loops → The Feast of Ends. Cracks: a Tithe-Remission Writ fed to the fog; a Monastery Letter read aloud at the crossroads.

• The Imperial Ghost (Undead/Precedent) — The shade of the last imperial governor, still trying to collect the taxes. Phases: Audit of the Damned → Summon the Debtors → The Emperor’s Peace. Cracks: produce the original imperial charter (in the Sealed Dowry Chest), pay a wergild in the empire’s own debased coinage, or convince the ghost that the empire is truly dead.

Encounter Seeds (Quick Hooks)

• The Dowry That Walked: A Blackwood matriarch’s dowry chest has been stolen. The chest contains a claim to a bridge that never floods—and a curse that the Margravine wants broken. The chest was last seen in the hands of a free company captain who claims he is the heir to the empire.

• The Lame King’s Feast: The Lame King invites the party to a feast. The feast is a trial. The food is memory. The wine is lies. The king wants to know who killed the last imperial surveyor. The surveyor is sitting at the table.

• The Curse of the Pale Causeway: The Causeway is repeating. Every crossing brings the party back to the same inn. The innkeeper is missing a finger. She says she gave it to the bridge. The bridge wants more. The bridge remembers the empire’s last toll.

Vhasia

The Fractured Sun.

“The sun shattered at Lence. The pieces are still falling. Which shadow will catch you? The Fenwoods burned the capital eight years ago, but the fire never went out – it just moved indoors, into every court, every negotiation, every marriage bed. Chivalry is the mask; the knife is the truth.”
— Lady Isolde of the Scar

What do people eat for breakfast? Dark bread and watered wine – the wine cuts the dust from the road. The nobility eat spiced eggs and fresh cheese, but they eat behind closed doors. To eat well in public is to invite envy. Envy is a dagger.

What does a child learn before they can walk? Which colors not to wear. Black and gold are the Northern Crown’s colors. Red and silver are the Southern Parlement’s. A child who wears the wrong color to the wrong village may not return home.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Which side of the road they walk on. The north side is the Crown’s. The south side is the Parlement’s. The middle is no man’s land – literally. Bandits, spies, and messengers use the middle. So do ghosts.

What is the most common crime? Raiding across the Belworth. The river is the border, the border is a suggestion, and the suggestion is enforced by armed men on both sides. The crime is not in raiding. The crime is in being caught on the wrong bank at dawn.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Sun-court was not burned. It was bankrupted. The Fenwoods did not sack Lence – they bought it. Every judge, every clerk, every guard captain had a price. The Fenwoods paid it. The Vhasians are still paying interest.

Where do people go when they die? To the crypts beneath the Sun-court – if they can afford a plaque. The poor are buried in unmarked graves along the Belworth floodplain. The river floods every spring. The dead wash downstream, into the land of the other crown. Neither side claims them.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a chevauchée – a raiding party that burns a village in your name. The apology is not in the burning. The apology is in the promise that the village will be rebuilt with your own hands.

What is the most important festival? The Sun-return (spring equinox). Both crowns claim the sun as their symbol. On this day, both hold processions. The processions are identical. The participants do not acknowledge each other. The sun does not care.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Queen-Mother has no claim to the regency. Her son is not the Dauphin. The real Dauphin died in childbirth. The child on the throne is a foundling, bought from a Tulkani caravan. The Tulkani know. The Tulkani are still waiting to be paid.

Vhasia — “The Fractured Sun”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Lence

Entanglements

To the West:

Acasia – Border raids across the Belworth define the seasons. The Curse of Acasia does not respect the river; neither do the routiers.

To the East:

Viterra – The Fenwood wound is still raw; the Warrior Queen’s eyes watch the mountain passes. The Belworth is a border written in blood.

To the North:

Aeler / Ubral – High passes funnel mercenaries and exiles into the fractured sun-kingdom. The mountain holds are a sieve, not a wall.

To the South:

Thepyrgos (via Viterra) – Synod law and the Chain-Lanterns rarely venture this far north, but their scholars collect Vhasian ballads. The ninth verse is always censored.

Quick Reference

Tagline: The sun shattered at Lence. The pieces are still falling. Which shadow will catch you?

Cardinal-Regent of the Broken Sun (Elite): “The sun may be fractured, but our authority is absolute within our domains. Every coin minted here carries our blessing, and every law written bears our seal—the rest is just politics. The rest is also ash. Ask the Fenwoods. They made the ash, and they left us to choke on it. But remember: the first crack came not from their swords, but from the marriage beds where a Vhasian queen bore sons to two Viterran kings—and the sons who wondered whose blood truly ran in their veins. Chivalry? A thin veneer. Scratch it, and you find the iron beneath.”

Road Warden (Commoner): “I’ve served under three banners on this same road. The only constant is that someone always wants to collect tolls, oaths, the dead. The Fenwoods burned Lence eight years ago, marching from the Belworth like storm-clouds. Now every duke with a purse thinks he’s king. The Queen-Mother weaves in the west, Valdais sharpens his lance in Adria, and the Two Crowns count their silver. Me? I just want to get home before the snows bury the graves. And if you hear a cantor singing the Planctus Armatus, stop and listen. That’s the only honest history left—especially the verse about the queen who married three times, bore sons to both kings, and left the realm wondering which throne was hers by right, and which by rumor.”

Genre / Mood: Courtly intrigue, chevauchée warfare, fractured legitimacy, the tragedy of chivalry—a kingdom that cannot mourn because mourning would mean admitting the old world is dead. Beneath the gilt and the heraldry, chivalry is a thin veneer; the iron of siege and sack shows through at every edge.

Starting Location: The Pont-du-Tithe, its golden arches catching fire in the sunset as pilgrims chant from both banks. A Duchy Constable in splendid armour guards the toll gate. “The chevauchée burns to the east,” he says, gesturing toward the Belworth. “Two Crowns march to meet it. Whose seal do you carry? Speak quickly—the levy waits for no one. And keep your hand away from your sword. The bridge remembers the last blood spilled here. It remembers the Fenwood horses crossing from the east. It remembers the screams.”

Vhasia is a realm of broken coronations and split loyalties, still bleeding from a wound a decade old. Once a proud province of the Utaran empire, the unified Sun Court shattered like its heraldic sunburst when the Fenwoods of Viterra and their allies crossed the Belworth, sacked the capital of Lence, and cast down the old Blood line. Duke Braedyn Fenwood—uncle of Veralyn, now the Warrior Queen of Viterra—led the assault, his ironshod cavalry grinding the Sun King’s army into the mud of the Ford of Ashes. They burned Lence until the mirrors melted and the very stones wept. They left the throne empty—not destroyed, but open. And they left a wound that has not healed.

But the wound runs deeper than smoke and stone. Around 780 AR, the betrothal of Baldvyn and Elianor ended the Province Wars. Then King Wymund IV’s queen, Baldvyn’s mother, died, and Wymund married Elianor instead. She bore two daughters and Valdais, recorded as Wymund’s children, though rumor names Baldvyn as the father of some or all three. After Wymund’s death and Herald’s ten-day reign, Baldvyn became king and married Elianor. Their children became the recognized heirs to Viterra. The scandal never subsided: a settled legal succession was no proof of what had happened in the royal bedchamber.

When the Fenwoods came, Elianor was in her western duchy of Ethor. Her marriage to Baldvyn had ended, and she had married the last Blood King of Vhasia before the sack of Lence in 832 AR. Her husband and Valdais’s royal Blood cousins died in the sack. Valdais now presses a Vhasian claim through Elianor’s Blood kin. But the last king may have left a son. The hidden Dauphin may be that son, an impostor, or a claimant whose evidence cannot be proved. Elianor’s final marriage does not establish that she was the boy’s mother. She rules from Ethor, weaving the remnants of three marriages into a future she still hopes to control.

The memory of the sack haunts every negotiation. Elianor lost her third husband, the last Blood King, and her royal kin at Lence. Her son Wyllmot, a recognized child of her marriage to Baldvyn, later died fighting rebels in Viterra. His son Baldvyn Brightstride succeeded him and died in 838 AR; Veralyn’s coronation followed in 840 AR. Elianor’s elder son Valdais claims the Vhasian crown through his mother’s Blood kin, while her household shelters a Dauphin who may be the last Blood King’s son. Whether that son survived, and whether this boy is he, remain unanswered. The Queen-Mother’s title records her political position; it is not proof of the boy’s parentage.

The Fenwood sack was not just a military defeat; it was a betrayal of chivalry itself. The knights of Vhasia had sworn to protect the realm with the Round of Five Virtues: Courage, Courtesy, Mercy, Prowess, Truth. At Lence, the Fenwoods showed no mercy. The knights still argue about whether chivalry died there or whether it was already a corpse, dressed in armour, a thin veneer over the cruelty of the world. The Cantor Alain sings the Planctus Armatus each spring, and the congregation weeps for Sir Corin, who unbuckled his gorget to hear a thief’s voice and was undone by the mercy he offered. Sir Corin died at Rouen saving a child. Later court rumor relocates his rescue to Lence and identifies the child as the Dauphin; that is a political retelling, not an established identity—and perhaps the living proof that Elianor’s bloodline, however tangled, still holds the true sun.

What you notice first: The smell of old smoke and fresh ink. The way every noble’s seal has a hairline crack—like the fault lines in old marriage alliances. The constant, nervous laughter of courtiers who remember whose head rolled last season—and whose mother married which king. The way the knights touch their gorgets when someone speaks of mercy, remembering Sir Corin’s unbuckling at Lence—and the queen who watched it all from Ethor, wondering if the mercy she’d been shown was ever real.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never carry a coin that bears only one sunburst. The realm has three mints, and the wrong metal on the wrong road is treason. Also, never speak the name “Fenwood” without naming Queen Veralyn first. The wound is still raw. The Queen-Mother’s spies are everywhere—and they have long memories. And never forget: the first treason was not in the field, but in the nursery, when a queen wondered if the son in her cradle was truly the king’s.

Regional Mood: Crowns, Courts, and the Weight of Lence

Here, the past is a weapon and the future is a weight—not of silver, but of memory. The Fenwoods came from Viterra across the Belworth with fire and iron, broke the Sun King’s army at the Ford of Ashes, and burned Lence until the mirrors melted. Duke Braedyn Fenwood led them; his daughter Veralyn—now the Warrior Queen of Viterra—was her father’s attendant and witness to the sack, a fact that complicates every border negotiation. The Vhasian nobility has not forgotten. They cannot forgive. But they cannot afford a war with Viterra, either.

So they fight each other instead.

Now every duke with a long purse and a short conscience backs a claimant. The Queen-Mother weaves alliances from her riverside keep in the west, holding a Dauphin—perhaps the last Blood King’s son, perhaps a commoner with a convincing birthmark—as a bargaining chip. The Two Crowns—Valdais Longblood of Adria in the west, and a rival claimant backed by the southern parlements—march their levies. Routiers sell their swords by the season, and the memory of Lence is ground into every negotiation. Vhasia is not a nation at war. It is a nation that forgot how to be at peace. And eight years later, the smoke from Lence still hasn’t cleared—and neither has the doubt about whose blood truly flows in the veins of those who claim the throne.

The Ninth Taboo Manifestation

In any Vhasian court, the ninth citation of precedent voids all previous. The wise stop at eight and settle. Those who cite the ninth are said to hear a faint laughter from the marble walls—and their cases are never heard again. The laughter is the dead king’s. He was the ninth king of his line. He died at Lence. He is still laughing—because the ninth citation is the only one that names the Fenwoods as the true heirs. No one has ever cited it. No one dares.

Also, the ninth cup poured at a feast is for the Hollow. The wise pour eight and leave the ninth empty. Those who pour the ninth see a pale figure standing at the high table—waiting to collect a weight. The figure is the dead king, checking his oath-stick.

The Province Wars (Around 780 AR)

Before the Fenwood sack, there was the Province Wars—a generation of low-intensity raiding between the cantons that left the old crown weakened and the knights bitter. The peace that ended the Province Wars was a treaty of exhaustion, not reconciliation. It was during those wars that the dynastic tangles began: Baldvyn’s betrothal to Elianor sealed the peace; after his mother’s death, King Wymund IV married Elianor instead, only for her to later wed his son Baldvyn II after Wymund IV’s death—a union that sparked the very conflicts it was meant to prevent. The veterans of the Province Wars are now the old men who watch the new claimants with weary eyes. They remember when mercy meant something. They also remember when it cost everything—and they whisper that the first casualty of those wars was trust in the marriage beds of queens.

The Players of the Great Game

The succession crisis has four major factions, each with a claim, a secret, and a price—each shadowed by the legacy of three marriages and uncertain parentage.

• Queen-Mother Elianor Everblood (née Longblood): Widow of three kings—Wymund IV of Viterra, his son Baldvyn II, and the last Sun King. Mother of Valdais and the late Wyllmot. She rules the western canton of Ethor. Her price is a guarantee that the alleged son of the last Blood King (the Dauphin) will not be killed. Her secret: she is not sure if Valdais is truly her son by Wymund IV—or if he was conceived during the turbulent shift between husbands. She acts as if he is of the Blood, because certainty would destroy what remains of the Longblood line—and because the Dauphin may be her only hope for an heir without doubt.

• Duke Valdais Longblood of Adria: The western claimant. Kin to the Blood claimants through Elianor, and stepson of the last Blood King. A tournament champion with a flawless record and a suspicious habit of opponents falling ill before jousts. His Vhasian claim rests on his mother’s Blood kin after his royal cousins died, as well as the strength of his supporters. His secret: his mother, Elianor, does not trust him—and he suspects why. He was not at Lence. He wishes he had been—so he could have died with honor instead of living with the question: “Whose son am I, truly?”

• The Two Crowns (Rival Dukes of the South and East): Backed by the southern parlements and the eastern march lords who face the Belworth. Their claim rests on election and expediency. Their secret: they have been known to accept Viterran gold—but never the Fenwood seal. They whisper that Veralyn is not her father’s daughter. They are wrong. They are also afraid—afraid that if the Viterran line is false, then the Vhasian claim via Elianor’s marriages is equally doubtful, and the realm has no true sun left to claim.

• The Last Dauphin (The False/Real Heir): A child of nine years, hidden in the Queen-Mother’s keep. His legitimacy is a matter of faith. His existence is the only thing keeping Valdais from marching on his mother’s castle. His secret: even Elianor does not know if he is truly the last Blood King’s son—but she has dreamed of Sir Corin, whose rescue of a child at Rouen is retold at court as a rescue at Lence. The child in the dream has the Dauphin’s face—and perhaps, just perhaps, the unbroken line of Elianor’s blood, however it flowed.

The Cantor Alain and the Planctus Armatus

No figure embodies Vhasia’s tragedy more than Alain, the Iron Bard. A cantor who survived the sack of Lence as a boy—rescued by Sir Corin himself—Alain carries a cracked ring and a voice that carries the weight of the dead. Each dusk, he sings the Planctus Armatus (the Lament for the Armoured), a song that recounts Corin’s unbuckling and the mercy that killed him. The song has eight verses. The ninth is silence—the space where the Hollow listens. The fourth verse, oft-whispered, speaks of “the queen who wore two crowns, and the son who knew not which father’s blood he carried.”

Mechanical Hook: Once per session, a character who hears Alain sing (or who recites a verse of the Planctus Armatus) may gain +1 die on a roll involving mercy or witness. On a failure, they mark 1 Fatigue—the weight of remembering. If they recite the fourth verse specifically, they may instead gain +1 Effect on a roll involving inheritance or legitimacy—but mark 1 Corruption, as the doubt it stirs is a poison to certainty.

Prominent NPCs of Vhasia

Names of Vhasia

Inspired by the fractured duchies: Francien, Norman, and Brittonic influences. Soft vowels, silent consonants, and surnames that recall a bridge, a ford, or a stained banner. Many names echo the Province Wars era, when marriage alliances were made and broken.

(Château/Cathedral/Forest)

Wayside shrine with pilgrims tacking petitions to a scorched sun disc; vine-terrace clos above a millstream with napping watchmen. The oldest vintners whisper that the “Crownbreaker” vintage was blessed by Elianor herself—once as Viterran queen, once as Vhasian queen—before the later rebellions turned the gift to ash.

Spades — Places

2. Wayside Shrine – Pilgrims tack petitions to a scorched sun disc; each parchment curls in different winds. The petitions are never answered. The shrine is a mailbox for the dead—especially those who fell at Lence. The dead do not write back. They wait.

3. Vine-Terrace – Clos above a millstream; watchmen nap, halberds traded for bottles. The best vintage is called “Crownbreaker.” It tastes like smoke and regret. The year of the sack was a particularly good harvest. The wine remembers.

4. Bastide Square – Neat as a checkerboard; merchants pay homage to different “hours” of the Sun. The square has a gallows. It rotates to face whichever claimant lost the last duel. The wood is still green—from the forest where the Fenwoods camped before Lence.

5. Royal Forest – Antler posts mark laws no king remembers; poachers still hang. The forest’s deer have grown bold. They wear crowns of shed antlers. Some say they are the ghosts of the old nobility—or the knights who unbuckled their gorgets too late.

6. Pont-du-Tithe – Tollbridge flanked by chapels and crossbows; chains blessed by rival bishops. The chains were forged from melted sunbursts. They ring in different keys. The Fenwood army crossed here from the east. The bridge still groans when Viterrans approach. The groans are prayers.

7. Great Fair – Outside a chartered town; counting sheds ring like bells, rumors louder still. The fair has a Court of Miracles where counterfeiters sell to informers. The best forgery is a sunburst coin that rings true until you test its weight. The weight of a lie is memory.

8. Salt Pans – Windpumps on an estuary; gulls own the law, smugglers own the night. The salt is gray. It tastes of old tears and older weights. The smugglers carry more than salt—they carry the Queen-Mother’s letters. The letters smell of Lence.

9. Siege-Château – Hoardings patched, cistern low, banners cut into ragged suns. The banner’s ragged edges are from a Fenwood sword. The owner still limps. He lost his son at Lence. He fights for Valdais but he does not love him. He loves the ghost of his son.

10. Cathedral Yard – Cranes creak, stones fly, scaffolds bristle with rival masons’ marks. The mason’s marks are clan signs. A scratched-out mark means a dead foreman. One mason’s mark is a sunburst with a crack—the mark of the Queen-Mother’s architect. He was at Lence. He built the pyres.

11. Parlement Hall – Hung with faded tapestries; sunbursts spliced and restitched by claimants. The tapestries show battles that never happened—and some that shouldn’t have. One tapestry shows the sack of Lence from the Fenwood perspective. The Queen-Mother has ordered it burned three times. It keeps reappearing. The thread is from the shrouds of the dead.

12. Queen’s Causeway – Mile-long oath paved in quarried stone; half-sunk each spring. The sunken half is a graveyard for vows. The stones are slippery with old lies. The Queen-Mother walks here at dawn. She speaks to the dead. The dead answer in the voice of the Dauphin.

13. Sun Palace (Lence) – Shuttered mirrors, brambled gardens; courtiers playing at kingship. The mirrors were covered after the sack. No one wants to see what they show now—a reflection of a kingdom that no longer exists. The courtiers pretend the king still lives. The servants know better. The mirrors know best.

14. King’s High Road – Milestones chipped of crowns; yet every army still marches it. The road is paved with the bones of tax collectors. They are not missed. The Fenwood army marched here from the Belworth. Their footprints are still visible—in the stone and in the memory of every orphan.

(Lord/Court/Company)

Road warden with dented badge and honest horn; vintner-guild syndic counting saints’ days as grace periods.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Road Warden – Dented badge, honest horn; ignored by both crowns but knows the roads. His horn is cracked. It still sounds—but the note is always half a step flat. He was at Lence. He does not speak of it. The horn does.

3. Vintner Syndic – Counts saints’ days as grace periods, vintages as treaties; wine as diplomacy. He keeps a bottle of Crownbreaker in every cellar. He knows which vintage each duke prefers. He also knows which duke’s wine is poisoned. He does not ask. The poison is memory.

4. Abbess-Chatelaine – Rules a fortress-convent with iron rule and sharper scripture. She has never drawn a blade. The scaffold has, on her orders. She sheltered refugees after the sack. The Queen-Mother owes her a weight. The Queen-Mother does not forget weights—or the smell of burning wool.

5. Routier Captain – Scarred and mercenary; prefers ransoms to loyalty; coin as conscience. He switches banners as often as his shirt. His loyalty is to the paychest—and to his mother. He fought for the Fenwoods at Lence. He still has nightmares. He pays for them in silver.

6. Duchy Constable – Splendid armour, empty coffers, pride swollen as a banner; glory over gold. His armour was his grandfather’s. It still has the dent from a Fenwood axe. He serves Valdais because Valdais pays—but he served the old king first. He cannot forgive himself for surviving Lence. The dent weeps rust.

7. Cantor Alain – The Iron Bard, bearer of the Cracked Ring; his songs are the only honest history. Feathers grow from his temples. His shadow moves a half-step behind him. He sings the names of the dead every dusk. The dead listen. And sometimes, they sing back.

8. Salt-Farmer – Gabelle lessee with cudgels, writs, and a river-chart no crown has; tax as tyranny. His tally is written in salt. One drop of water and the obligations vanish—along with the evidence. He is the Queen-Mother’s man. He does not say so aloud. His salt tastes of ash.

9. Trouvère – A scandalous lay about the last Sun King brings knives to tavern doors. He sings the truth. That is why he sleeps in a different inn every night. He knows who really ordered the burning of Lence. He will not say. He values his tongue. The truth is a currency he spends in silence.

10. Marshal-Exile – The Sun Court’s hammer; now wielded by whoever pays in silver. He lost the Battle of Ashes. He still sees it in his dreams and his nightmares. He was the last man to see the old king alive. The king’s last words were a curse on the Fenwood name. The curse is still unpaid.

11. Heretic Perfect – Preaches peace while tucking hidden daggers into parchment margins. His sermon is a code. The psalms tell you which bridge to cross and which to burn. He is the Queen-Mother’s spy. He is also Valdais’s spy. He is also his own spy. His sermons are the only honest prayers left.

12. Queen-Mother – Riverside keep in the west; weaves alliances as if they were dowries. She has outlived three husbands and two sons. She is not mourning. She is waiting. The last Blood King’s alleged son—real or false—will sit on the Sun Court. She will not live to see it. She has made her peace with that. The peace tastes of Lence.

13. Two Crowns – Rival dukes, each “crowned” in rival cathedrals, neither whole. One wears a crown of iron. The other wears a crown of words. Both rust. Neither was at Lence. Neither speaks of it. They pay others to speak for them. And sometimes, they whisper that if the Viterran line is false, then the Vhasian claim via Elianor’s marriages is equally doubtful.

14. Last Dauphin – A rumor with a birthmark; armies march for whispers alone. He may be a baker’s son. The armies don’t care. They need a sun to follow. He has never seen the sun. He knows three languages, the lineage of every noble house, and the taste of every poison. He does not know if he is a prince or a puppet. He does not ask. He dreams every night of a knight with an unbuckled gorget.

(Chevauchée/Law/Church)

Chevauchée burning loyalty oaths as well as barns; smoke curls like scripture. Interdict falls on a county; bells silenced, trade stalls.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Chevauchée – Raiders burn loyalty oaths as well as barns; smoke curls like scripture. The raiders wear no colors. Their horses answer to whistles and grudges. They were at Lence. They remember. The smoke smells of old wool. ‘[WAR]‘

3. Interdict – Falls on a county; bells silenced, trade stalls, heretics prosper. The bells were melted for shot three wars ago. The silence is old. The interdict was ordered by the Cardinal-Regent—but no one knows which claimant he serves. The silence is a prayer for the dead of Lence. ‘[FAITH]‘

4. Forest Law – Venison becomes treason; poachers hang from antler posts. The antler posts are carved with the names of the hanged. They whisper at dusk. The names include survivors of Lence who could not find work. ‘[DEATH]‘

5. River Spate – Ferries chained, bridges drowned, pilgrims stranded mid-prayer. The water is the color of old gold. It washed away a mint last spring. The mint belonged to a claimant who could not pay his routiers. The routiers now raid for the other side. ‘[WEATHER]‘

6. Coin Debasement – Three mints, three suns, no trust; soldiers demand silver alone. The silver is from the same mine—but the stamp is a prayer, not a promise. The Queen-Mother controls two mints. Valdais controls one. The Cardinal-Regent holds the dies. The dies were made from melted Fenwood spurs. ‘[WEIGHT]‘

7. Parlement Divided – A siege laid on parchment before walls; war by paperwork. The clerks duel with citations. The loser pays the winner’s ink bill. The winner gets to draft the next round of tax levies. The peasants pay both. The ink is mixed with ash from Lence. ‘[LAW]‘

8. Company Mutiny – Unless arrears are paid in blood or coin; mercenaries as a time bomb. The mutineers have a list. Your name is on it—or will be by nightfall. The list was leaked by the Queen-Mother’s spy. She wants the routiers to switch sides. The list is written on a page torn from the Chivalric Roll. ‘[MERCENARY]‘

9. Relic Dispute – Two abbeys claim the same saint’s bones; mobs answer with stones. The bones are actually from a cow. The saints don’t mind. They like the attention. The abbeys are backed by rival claimants. The cow was from a farm that burned at Lence. ‘[FAITH]‘

10. Harvest Blight – Bread locked behind pikes; bakers guarded as lords. The blight has a name. It is the name of a duke who raised the levy too late. His fields fed the Fenwood army. His people starved. He still rules. The blight is his guilt made visible. ‘[DISASTER]‘

11. Tournament “Accident” – Hides an assassination; your favor is now evidence. The lance was filed with a prayer. The prayer was answered—but not for the target. The victim was a claimant’s champion. The killer was never found. The Queen-Mother smiled. The lance was from Lence. ‘[COMBAT]‘

12. Royalist Restoration – Sunburst badges painted overnight on doors and graves. The paint is the color of dried blood. The badges face the wrong direction. The Queen-Mother’s agents paint them. She wants the people to remember that the Sun Court once existed. The badges glow in moonlight. ‘[OMEN]‘

13. Feudal Levy – Lords demand levies in days, not months, with three days’ bread. The bread is hardtack from the last Fenwood siege. It still smells of smoke. The levy was called by Valdais. The lords are his cousins. They do not want to march. They owe him. ‘[WAR]‘

14. Winter Campaign – Roads turn to mud, hooves to ice, armies to ruin. The snow is gray with ash. The Pass of Ashes has a sister pass now. The Fenwood army marched through the Pass of Ashes from the Belworth. The ghosts still march there—in both passes. ‘[WEATHER]‘

15. Lence’s Echo – Smoke rises from the ruins. The Fenwood banners appear on the horizon. It is a false alarm—or is it? The party must test Spirit + Endurance (DV 4) or lose 1d4 Fatigue from remembered terror. If they fail, they also gain the Haunted condition—the dead of Lence will follow them for one session. The question they whisper is always the same: “Why did you survive?” ‘[FEAR]‘ ‘[DEATH]‘

(Charter/Patent/Right)

Safe-conduct sealed by a duke or abbey; honoured only once, on one road; burgess charter for a market ward.

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Safe-Conduct [Leverage: Passage] – The seal is cracked. The road is watched. Use it before the seal breaks. The seal was cracked at Lence—by a Fenwood axe. ‘[TRAVEL]‘

3. Burgess Charter – The charter is a bell. Ring it, and the town answers—or it doesn’t. The bell was cast from a melted sunburst. It rings true—but only for those who remember. The bell’s clapper is a finger bone from a knight who died at Lence. ‘[SOCIAL]‘

4. Bridge Farm – Tolls at Pont-du-Tithe for a season, if you can hold it. The toll-keepers are loyal to the last coin. Yours—or theirs. The bridge was rebuilt after Lence. The stone is new. The ghosts are old. The ghosts do not pay tolls. ‘[TRADE]‘

5. Pareage Charter [Leverage: Authority] – Shared rule with a monastery; half justice, half rent, no peace. The monks pray for you. They also pray for your enemies. Balance. The monastery sheltered refugees after the sack. The Queen-Mother has not forgotten. ‘[LAW]‘

6. Wardship [Leverage: Authority] – Over a minor heir; lands obey you “for now.” The heir has a knife. He knows how to use it. He learned from watching you. His father died at Lence. He does not know which side his father fought for. He does not care. The knife was his father’s. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘

7. Gabelle Lease [Leverage: Authority] – Salt-tax rights; lucrative, hated, and dangerous. The lease is a death warrant written in profit. Cash it wisely. The salt pans are near the Belworth. The Viterran border is close. The Fenwood raids come at dawn from the east. The salt is gray with ash. ‘[TRADE]‘

8. Letters Patent [Leverage: Authority] – Raise a free company under your banner; an army as a business. The letters are signed in blood—yours or the notary’s. Both are valid. The notary lost a hand at Lence. He signs with his left. His right is buried in Lence. ‘[MERCENARY]‘

9. Remission – Of feudal dues for a village; they’ll march when called. The village has a long memory. They remember the last lord who promised mercy. He was a Fenwood. They do not forgive. The remission is written on a page torn from the Chivalric Roll. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘

10. Low-Justice Grant [Leverage: Authority] – Stocks, fines, gallows in a troublesome hamlet. The gallows rope is new. The notches are from the last hamlet. The hamlet was burned by routiers. The routiers were paid by a claimant. The claimant denies it. ‘[LAW]‘

11. Confiscation Writ [Leverage: Authority] – Against a royalist estate—if you can seize it first. The writ is a race. The other claimant rides a faster horse. The estate belonged to a lord who died at Lence. His widow still lives there. She has a knife. The knife is for the horse. ‘[WEIGHT]‘

12. Queen’s Audience [Leverage: Authority] – Private with the Queen-Mother; a whisper becomes policy. The audience is a chess game. She always wins—but she lets you take a pawn. The pawn is the Dauphin. Do not touch him. His shadow is not his own. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘

13. Sunburst Warrant [Leverage: Authority] – Of the fallen court; most still bow if shown boldly. The warrant is a ghost. It has no power—only the power of belief. The ghost was signed by a dead king. The dead king’s seal was stolen from his tomb. The Queen-Mother has the original. The original weeps wax. ‘[LEGEND]‘

14. General Pardon (Temporary) [Leverage: Protection] – Rebels absolved if they bend the knee. The pardon is a spring. It will close when the season turns. The rebels were at Lence. They fought for the old king. They fled when the Fenwoods broke the line. They are still running. The pardon smells of ash. ‘[JUSTICE]‘

Quick use notes

• Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).

• Diamonds are codified outcomes (charters/patents/rights) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo fractured sun motifs—light that splinters, oaths that crack like glass, smoke that smells of Lence, and a child who may be a prince or a puppet. Also echo the weight of memory: a ghost knight, a mirror that shows the sack, a bell that rings for the dead.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Fractured Seals: When brandishing a writ, badge, or charter tied to a Sun Court claimant, step Position up one step for the scene’s next interaction at a gate, court, or checkpoint. Each use advances a Legitimacy [4] timer linked to the claimant; when it fills, rivals challenge the authority on sight. The seal’s crack widens with each challenge. Eventually, it will break—and the broken seal will smell of Lence.

• Parlement Games: If a scene touches petitions, guild disputes, or feudal appeals, the first Diamond played becomes a policy lever: treat it as two Diamonds toward swaying a decision or rewriting a custom. Afterward, start or advance a Whispered Precedent timer; when it fills, backlash spreads as other courts cite the case against you. The Queen-Mother’s clerks are masters of this. They have never lost—because they have never forgotten the price of losing. The price is Lence.

• Gabelle Knife-Edge: At bridges, fairs, or salt depots, convert Diamonds tied to tolls, leases, or safe-conducts into immediate passage or tariff relief for the company (no roll). Each conversion ticks a Resentment [4] timer for the locale; when it completes, expect boycotts, ambush rumors, or an audit by rival officials. The salt farmers remember Lence. They do not forget. The salt in their tears is gray.

• Vhasian Chivalry & the Round of Five Virtues: The knights of the western cantons (Ethor, Adria) follow the Round of Five Virtues: Courage, Courtesy, Mercy, Prowess, Truth. In a formal joust or a legal duel, the GM may award Victory by Virtue rather than by blood: the combatant with the higher Virtue score wins the dispute, even if they lost the physical exchange. This is the law of the tilt and the law of the court. But at Lence, the Fenwoods showed no mercy. The knights still argue about whether chivalry died there—or whether it was already a corpse, dressed in armour, a thin veneer over savagery. And sometimes, they whisper that the first crack in the sun came not from the Fenwoods’ swords, but from the marriage beds where queens bore sons to two kings—and the sons who never knew which father’s blood they carried.

• The Armor Closes / The Song Escapes (Chivalric Timers): The Cantor Alain, bearer of the Cracked Ring, sings a warning at every tourney:

  • Armor Closes [6] advances when knights choose protection over mercy, when gorgets are buckled tight, when chivalry becomes siege mentality. When full, the cantons close their borders and the raids become wars. The Fenwoods taught Vhasia that mercy is a weakness. The knights have not forgotten. They wear their gorgets to bed.

  • Song Escapes [8] advances when a Cantor sings the truth, when mercy is shown, when armour is unbuckled. When full, a moment of genuine connection occurs—though it may be fatal. The Cantor Alain has been trying to fill this timer for ten years. He is still trying. He sings every dusk. The dead listen—and sometimes they answer.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • Seint Michel, the Judge of the Scar (Mykkiel): The law that does not bend; the judge who cannot be bought. His shrines are at tourney fields and courtrooms. Knights swear oaths on his scale before the joust.

  • Seint Isabeau, Who Slumbers Amongst the Lilies (Ikasha): The dream of setting aside the crown; the mercy of forgetting duty. Her groves demand that armour be unbuckled at the threshold.

  • Seint Evroul of the Cairn (Mor’iraath): The oath that outlasts the oath-taker; the blood-price paid in stone. The barrow-kings demand tribute in stories, not gold.

  • The Cantor’s Road (The Traveler): The road that belongs to no lord; the path that finds its own way. Cantors are immune to chivalric protection—but subject to its violence.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• Seint Michel, the Judge of the Scar (Mykkiel): The Order of the Gilded Scale maintains the Chivalric Roll—a record of every oath sworn and broken in the cantons. A page torn from this roll can serve as a single-use Claim String (gain +1 Position in any court). The Order’s justiciars are feared and respected; they never unbuckle their gorgets, and they have never lost a case. The Queen-Mother keeps a copy in her riverside keep, wrapped in a gray shroud. The page that records the Fenwood oath of safe passage—broken at Lence—is still blank. The Order will not write it. They are afraid of what will happen if they do. The blank page smells of smoke.

• Seint Isabeau, Who Slumbers Amongst the Lilies (Ikasha): In the Ethorian marches, knights whisper prayers to Seint Isabeau when they long to set aside their steel. Her shrine is a hawthorn grove where armour must be left at the gate. Pilgrims who enter bare-skinned and speak a true regret find that their next wound heals in a single night—but they dream of a woman in white who asks, “Will you remember how to be touched?” Those who return to the grove a second time are never seen again. The knights who survived Lence do not go near the grove. They are afraid of what they might forget—or what they might remember.

• Seint Evroul of the Cairn (Mor’iraath): In the high passes of the Ethorian marches, a rusted knight in an unopened helm haunts the old barrows. He is the patron of those who carry a blood-weight and cannot rest. To call upon him, one must pour a cup of salt water at a cairn and name the wrong done to your house. He will witness one blow; if it lands, the foe is Marked by the Cairn—any spirit may locate them for a year. If it misses, the blow turns inward. The Marshal-Exile carries a scar from such a bargain; he does not speak of it. He named the Fenwoods. The blow missed. He still does not understand why. The Cairn weeps rust.

• The Order of the Sunken Cup (The Hospice of the Broken Blade): A gray-robed hospice in the ruins of Lence treats the wounded of both crowns. They ask no payment, but they record every name in a scroll that never dries. The Restorationists suspect they are spies for the Queen-Mother; the Two Crowns accuse them of erasing obligations. Sister Oria, the hospice’s custodian, is also the keeper of the Lantern-Rites House on the Belworth—neutral ground where even claimants must leave their blades at the door. The scroll has a page for every person who died at Lence. The page is still being written. The ink is still wet. The ink is made from ash and tears.

• The Ninth: (See the Ninth Taboo Manifestation box above.)

Vhasian Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Sun: Crumble a crust onto a cracked sun disc. Ignore the first Chevauchée penalty. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘ The sun disc should be from Lence. The older the crack, the better. The bread should be stale—like the memory of the old king.

• Knot the Seal: Tie a single knot in a charter’s ribbon. Cancel Parlement Divided or take –1 die on your next legal argument (your choice). ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘ The ribbon should be black. Black is for mourning. The knot should be tied while facing east—toward Lence and the Belworth.

• Name to the Salt: Whisper a dead claimant’s name into a salt pan. Gain +1 Effect when collecting from their faction this scene, but mark Obligation to the Queen-Mother. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘ The salt pan should be on the Belworth. The dead claimant’s name should be spoken only once. The Queen-Mother will know. The salt will taste of ash.

• The Lence Candle: Light a candle in the ruins of Lence. For the next scene, any oath sworn by candlelight is binding—but the candle will gutter if the oath is false. The dead will witness. They do not forgive. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘ The candle should be made from the fat of a knight who died with his gorget buckled. There are many.

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Rival officials or court guards take notice.

• Noise: Parlement clerks or routier patrols are alerted.

• Trace: Trackers or tax collectors mark your route.

• Delay: A setback costs time or a favourable legal window.

• Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.

• Lence Echo: A flash of smoke, a distant scream, a child’s face in a window. The memory of the sack surfaces. The GM gains 1 SB to spend on a fear effect. The fear is always the same: that it will happen again.

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: A duchy constable or abbess-chatelaine begins responding.

• Position Lost: Legal challenge or road closure costs you advantage.

• Foe Appears: A rival claimant or free company arrives.

• Gear Trouble: A piece of equipment becomes Compromised/Neglected.

• Lock/Barrier: A simple obstacle now requires a test.

• Claimant’s Agent: A spy working for Valdais, the Queen-Mother, or the Two Crowns reveals themselves. They demand a favor or a bribe. The bribe must be a memory of Lence. If you have none, they will take a finger.

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Additional routiers, parlement guards, or ducal forces arrive.

• Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool or weapon becomes temporarily unusable.

• Major Twist: A writ is voided, an interdict declared, or a levy called.

• Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.

• Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1 or an appropriate Condition.

• The Dauphin’s Name: Someone speaks the child’s name aloud. The Queen-Mother’s spies are everywhere. The party is now on her radar. The child will dream of them.

Major Turns (4+ SB)

• Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates fully.

• Authority Arrival: The Two Crowns, Queen-Mother, or Marshal-Exile intervenes.

• Scene Shift: A chevauchée hits, the river floods, or the parlement erupts.

• Patron Omen: An omen appears, a blessing is lost, or a curse manifests.

• Narrative Pivot: The story takes an unexpected turn that reframes objectives.

• The Sack Relived: Smoke rises from Lence. The Fenwood banners appear on the horizon. It is a false alarm—or is it? The party must test Spirit + Endurance (DV 4) or lose 1d4 Fatigue from remembered terror. If they fail, they also gain the Haunted condition—the dead of Lence will follow them for one session.

Region-Specific SB Options

• Fractured Authority: Seals break mid-signing, legal papers rewrite themselves, badges refuse honor.

• Legal Warfare: Court decisions reverse, precedents are cited against you, writs expire prematurely.

• Sun Symbolism: Sun discs crack underfoot, light splits into contradictory shadows, oaths shatter like glass.

• Lence’s Shadow: A ghost appears—a soldier, a child, a king. It asks a question. Answering costs a memory. Refusing costs a curse. The question is always: “Why did you survive?”

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Lore): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Dust Cloud.

• Cut the Charter (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a Safe-Conduct is in your possession, +1 die.

• Weather the Sack (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Lence’s Echo, you pick who keeps their memories; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (three-phase foes)

• The Red Marshal (Exiled Sun Court hammer) – Phases: Chevauchee Call → Banner Turn → Lists to War. Cracks: Letters Patent buys one round of obedience; General Pardon lets a unit stand down. He was at Lence. He ran. He has not forgiven himself. He wears his gorget unbuckled.

• Cardinal-Regent of the Broken Sun (scarlet gloves) – Phases: Interdict Blade → Seal Both Ways → Confessional Leak. Cracks: Queen’s Audience cancels Interdict Blade once; a Synod Indulgence treats a church check as controlled for one scene. He was not at Lence. He blessed the Fenwood banners before they marched. He does not speak of it. His gloves are scarlet for a reason.

• The Parlement Spider (chief clerk; quills like daggers) – Phases: Motion to Delay → Counter-Citation → Filed at Dawn. Cracks: Sunburst Warrant opens a “royal window”; a Burgess Charter lets a town court overrule once locally. He keeps the lists. He knows which nobles voted for the Fenwood peace. He does not show the list to anyone. The list is written on his own skin.

• The Two Crowns (rival dukes) – Phases: Contradictory Edicts → Levy in Hours → Coin Trial. Cracks: Sunburst Warrant → public mass unites them for one scene; General Pardon calms levy unrest once. They were not at Lence. They sent levies. The levies never returned. They pay the widows’ pensions. They do not visit the graves. The graves visit them.

• The Queen-Mother (Elianor Everblood) – Phases: Weave the Web → Unveil the Dauphin → The Sun Rises Again. Cracks: produce proof of the Dauphin’s illegitimacy, convince Valdais to kneel, or find the old king’s true heir (a child hidden in the Mistlands). She has outlived three husbands and two sons. She will outlive you. Her webs are woven from the hair of the dead.

• The Cantor Alain (Iron Bard, bearer of the Cracked Ring) – Phases: The Planctus → The Witness → The Silence. Cracks: unbuckle a gorget in his presence, speak a true regret aloud, or sing the ninth verse—the one that names the Hollow. He is not an enemy. He is a mirror. Do not break the mirror.

Legendary Sites & Trials

• Tournament Ordeal (Bastide Square) – Declare Purse, Patent, or Pardon as stakes. Win to cash a matching ⋄; lose and spawn Tournament “Accident”. The square was built on the site of a mass grave from Lence. The dead watch. They are not impartial. They vote with the wind.

• Cathedral Scaffold Assize – Argue law atop creaking beams; each good point moves Position up; each slip marks Exposure. A Paréage Charter lets you call a recess once. The cathedral was rebuilt after the sack. The old stones are in the foundation. They still remember the fire. They also remember the screams.

• Pont-du-Tithe Vigil – Keep the bridge peaceful through dusk: clear 3 segments on Bridge Peace by feeding pilgrims, quieting relic zeal, and paying one tithe from your purse. The bridge was the first structure the Fenwoods burned. The replacement stone was brought from Viterra across the Belworth. It still smells of smoke—and of Veralyn’s perfume. She was there.

In Vhasia, power flows through the remnants of imperial authority, fractured legitimacy, and the careful manipulation of memory and mercy. Former Utaran provincial structures still provide a framework for governance, but competing claimants to the Sun Court have created a complex web of overlapping jurisdictions and conflicting loyalties. The true power lies with those who can navigate this legal maze—and who understand that the only currency that matters is the memory of Lence.

But beneath the charters and the writs runs a deeper current: the wound that will not close. The Fenwood sack was not just a military defeat; it was a wound to the soul of Vhasia, proof that chivalry was only ever a thin veneer. Every negotiation, every duel, every sealed document carries the weight of that loss. The Queen-Mother plays a long game, her Dauphin a card she may never play. Valdais claims the Vhasian crown through his mother’s Blood kin after his royal cousins died. The Two Crowns will accept any solution that leaves them richer. And the common folk—the farmers, the salt-panners, the road wardens—just want the raiding to stop.

They will wait. They have waited eight years. They can wait longer.

For the GM: Patronage in Vhasia revolves around legitimacy, legal documents, and the ability to command respect from institutions that no longer have a clear central authority. Rewards often take the form of charters, writs, and official positions that can be leveraged into greater influence. To emphasize the post-sack grief and the fragile peace:

• Tie rewards to visible symbols (seals, badges, writs) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided—especially if they bear the old king’s seal or the Fenwood mark.

• Let rival claimants issue conflicting authorities, forcing players to choose whose favor matters more—and whose memory of Lence they are willing to invoke.

• Use the parlements, cathedrals, and châteaux as arenas for social contests, where knowledge of law and custom determines success—and where the mere mention of the Fenwood name can shift the tide.

• Introduce the Lence’s Shadow mechanic: whenever a scene involves a legal dispute, a military manoeuvre, or a negotiation with a noble who lost family in the sack, the GM may spend 1 SB to invoke the memory of the burning. The Position worsens by one step, and the losing party may gain the Haunted condition.

• Use the Armor Closes and Song Escapes timers as a visible campaign front. The party’s actions—acts of mercy or cruelty—tick one or the other. When the Armor Closes, the cantons become fortresses; when the Song Escapes, a moment of genuine connection may change everything—or kill everyone.

In Vhasia, your papers are your power, and your power determines whether you rule or are ruled. But your memory of Lence—and how you use it—determines whether anyone will follow you.

The Vacant Throne & Campaign Timers (For longform political campaigns)

• Vacant Throne Timer [10]: Advances when a claimant gains a major advantage (battle, noble defection, foreign alliance). Retreats when the party brokers a truce or exposes a weakness. When full, a claimant takes Lence and declares themselves king. The Queen-Mother will not live to see it. She will die the day the sun rises whole again.

• Armor Closes [6]: Advances when knights choose protection over mercy, when gorgets are buckled tight, when chivalry becomes siege mentality. When full, the cantons close their borders and the raids become wars. The Fenwoods taught Vhasia that mercy is a weakness. The knights have not forgotten. They sharpen their gorgets.

• Song Escapes [8]: Advances when a Cantor sings the truth, when mercy is shown, when armour is unbuckled. When full, a moment of genuine connection occurs—though it may be fatal. The Cantor Alain has been trying to fill this timer for ten years. He is still trying. He sings every dusk. The dead listen—and sometimes they answer.

• Claimant’s Coup (per claimant): A 6-timer that advances when that claimant wins a Parlement vote, a joust, or a skirmish. When full, they march on Lence. The Dauphin—real or false—watches from the Queen-Mother’s keep. He does not know if he should cheer or weep.

• Lence’s Reckoning [8]: Tracks the party’s engagement with the memory of the sack. Advances when they aid a survivor, recover a relic, or speak the truth about what happened. When full, a survivor reveals a secret: the old king’s last words, the location of a hidden treasure, or the true parentage of the Dauphin. The secret will change the succession. It will also change the party. Some secrets are heavier than crowns.

The Succession Mini-Campaign: The Dauphin’s Truth

The central question of any Vhasian campaign is whether the Dauphin is truly of the Blood. This is not predetermined. Each campaign generates its own truth.

Determining the Dauphin’s Legitimacy (GM Only)

At the start of the campaign, roll 1d6 on the table below. The result determines the Dauphin’s true nature—and the secret the Queen-Mother has been keeping.

colspec = Q[c,1cm] X[2.5] X[3], rowhead = 1, rowodd = bg=gray!10, row1 = bg=gray!30, font=, hlines, d6 & Legitimacy & The Truth
1 & True Heir & The Dauphin is exactly who the Queen-Mother claims: the last Blood King’s son, the last of the old Sun King’s line. The blood is true. The problem is that Valdais’s claim is also true, and the realm must choose.
2 & False Heir (Known) & The Queen-Mother knows the Dauphin is a commoner—a Tulkani orphan with a convincing birthmark. She maintains the fiction because without a claimant, the realm falls to Valdais, whom she does not trust. The child does not know.
3 & False Heir (Unknown) & The Dauphin is a changeling, placed in the cradle by agents of the Ninth to destabilize the succession. The Queen-Mother suspects but cannot prove it. She has dreamed of Sir Corin, whose rescue of a child at Rouen is retold at court as a rescue at Lence—and the child in the dream has the Dauphin’s face.
4 & Uncertain & The Queen-Mother genuinely does not know. The child was brought to her by a dying servant who claimed he was the Dauphin. She has raised him as her own, hoping the doubt will never be tested. She has outlived three husbands and two sons. She cannot bear another loss.
5 & Double Claim & There are two Dauphins. A second child, hidden in the Mistlands, also bears the birthmark and the blood-right. The Queen-Mother knows of this child but has not acknowledged them. The realm may split again.
6 & The Blood Remembers & The Dauphin carries the blood of the old Sun King—but also the blood of a Fenwood. The sack of Lence was not just a conquest; it was a family feud. The child is the living proof of a union that should never have happened.

The Succession Campaign Structure

A Vhasian succession campaign follows three phases. The Dauphin’s legitimacy, determined above, shapes every encounter.

Phase 1: The Investigation (Sessions 1–3)

The party is hired (by the Queen-Mother, by Valdais, or by a neutral party) to determine the truth of the Dauphin’s claim. Key scenes:

• The Queen-Mother’s Keep: Elianor grants an audience. She speaks of the alleged son of the last Blood King but does not show him. She tests the party’s loyalty with small favors. Her spies watch.

• The Cantor’s Testimony: Alain sings the Planctus Armatus. If the party listens carefully, the fourth verse hints at the Queen-Mother’s doubt. If they press him, he may reveal the cracked ring—and the name of the child Sir Corin died to save.

• The Valdais Gambit: Valdais offers the party a counter-offer: find proof that the Dauphin is false, and he will grant lands, titles, and his eternal gratitude. He is desperate. He does not know the truth himself.

• The Two Crowns’ Proposal: The rival dukes offer a simpler bargain: support their election, and the Dauphin’s legitimacy becomes irrelevant. They will pay in silver and pardons.

Phase 2: The Confrontation (Sessions 4–6)

The party has gathered evidence. Now they must decide:

• The Dauphin’s Reveal: The child is brought before the party. He is nine years old. He knows the taste of every poison. He has never seen the sun. He asks: “Am I real?”

• The Trial of Blood: A formal inquiry is called at the Cathedral Yard. Claimants present evidence. The party may testify. The dead of Lence are watching.

• The Forged Charter: Someone has produced a document that purports to prove the Dauphin’s legitimacy—or his falsehood. The document is a forgery. Who made it? The party must decide whether to expose it or use it.

• The Queen-Mother’s Confession: Elianor speaks privately to the party. She reveals the truth (as determined by the d6 roll). She asks them to keep the secret—or to act on it.

Phase 3: The Resolution (Sessions 7–8)

The succession is decided. The party’s actions determine the outcome:

• The Vacant Throne Fills: One claimant takes Lence. The Queen-Mother may live or die. The Dauphin may rule, be exiled, or be killed.

• Armor Closes or Song Escapes: The party’s choices have pushed one of the chivalric timers to full. The cantons either seal their borders or open their hearts. The realm changes.

• Lence’s Reckoning: The memory of the sack is either honored or buried. A survivor reveals a final secret—the old king’s last words, the location of a hidden treasure, or the true name of the child who was never meant to be found.

The Dauphin’s Fate (Resolution Table)

When the succession is decided, roll or choose the Dauphin’s fate based on the party’s choices:

colspec = X[2] X[3] X[2], rowhead = 1, rowodd = bg=gray!10, row1 = bg=gray!30, font=, hlines, Outcome & Dauphin’s Fate & Campaign Impact
Valdais Wins & The Dauphin is exiled to the Mistlands (or killed). & Vhasia unites under a strong western crown—but the Queen-Mother is dead or imprisoned. The memory of Lence fades, but the suspicion of illegitimacy remains.
Two Crowns Win & The Dauphin becomes a puppet figurehead. & Vhasia is ruled by a council of dukes. The realm stabilizes but remains divided. The Dauphin grows up in a gilded cage, learning to wait.
Queen-Mother Triumphs & The Dauphin is crowned, with Elianor as regent. & Vhasia returns to the old ways. The Queen-Mother dies within a year. The Dauphin’s legitimacy is still questioned, but his reign begins.
Party Reveals Falsehood & The Dauphin is revealed as a fraud. & The realm descends into chaos. Valdais and the Two Crowns fight openly. The party may be hailed as heroes—or blamed for the war.
Party Protects the Secret & The Dauphin rules, but the secret remains hidden. & Vhasia is stable, but the hollow is watching. The party holds a weight they cannot share. The truth may surface at the worst possible moment.
The Ninth Intervenes & The Dauphin’s legitimacy is erased from all records. The Hollow forgets. & The succession is voided. A new claimant must be found. The Ninth’s Coterie gains influence. The party must decide whether to restore the records or let them lie.

GM Guidance: Running the Succession

• Let the dice decide: The Dauphin’s legitimacy is random each campaign. This prevents players from assuming they know the outcome. The mystery is real.

• The Queen-Mother’s knowledge: If the Dauphin is false, Elianor may know or not know. Her behavior shifts accordingly. If she knows, she is a pragmatist; if she does not, she is a desperate dowager.

• Valdais’s desperation: Valdais does not know the truth. He suspects his mother is hiding something, but he cannot prove it. He will believe whatever the party tells him—if they seem convincing.

• The Cantor’s role: Alain can reveal the truth, but only if the party earns his trust. He carries the cracked ring, and he knows the name of the child Sir Corin died to save. He may not know the child is the Dauphin. He may know and have chosen silence.

• The Hollow’s interest: The Ninth Taboo is a constant presence. If the party cites the ninth citation, the dead king’s laughter may reveal a secret they were not meant to hear. The secret is always about the succession.

Named Lineage: Cross-Reference to the Fenwood-Everblood Chronicles

The factions can be used with the named history of The Fenwood-Everblood Chronicles. The Queen-Mother is Elianor, who married Wymund IV, then his son Baldvyn after Wymund’s death and Herald’s brief reign, and finally the last Blood King after her marriage to Baldvyn ended. Valdais is her son, recorded as Wymund’s and rumored to be Baldvyn’s. His claim to Vhasia comes through her Blood kin after his royal cousins died. The Dauphin may be the last Blood King’s surviving son; do not replace that possibility with a mandatory Renard or Longblood ward, or declare the Blood line extinct. The table below offers campaign possibilities, not revealed setting canon. The Red Marshal may be Seniro Fenwood, who fought at the Ford of Ashes. Braedyn led the sack of Lence in 832 AR; Veralyn, then his disguised page, killed Logan Thornhill at Coldmorrow afterward. The setting’s present is 840 AR, shortly after her coronation and Braedyn’s death.

Political Factions of the Fractured Sun

Terrestrial Patrons: Myrmis and Canray

Two lesser, regional patrons haunt Vhasian court life without ever being invoked by name in polite company.

Myrmis answers prayers in kind, not in mercy — a hound given for a wish, a warrior-daughter for three gentle ones. Her worshippers are rare, hidden, and disproportionately Renard by blood; her sites were burned during the Seven Week Uprising, and her surviving faithful read every death at court as a payment coming due. A PC who takes Myrmis as a patron should expect exactly what they ask for, priced however the GM finds most interesting.

Canray, called Kon’reh in the old Aeler tongue, is not a god but a discipline — the board game, the ledger-logic, and the patience the Fenwoods carried out of exile. Courtiers who “play Canray” are not gaming; they are negotiating in a shared vocabulary of clauses and forfeits that outsiders mistake for small talk. A PC who takes Canray as a patron (treat as an unusual but valid Terrestrial Patron) trades raw power for the ability to always, eventually, collect — at the cost of never being allowed to act purely on impulse without narrative consequence.

Viterra

The Hedge-Law Realm.

“Viterra hums with the quiet hum of old promises kept. The Queen’s Peace is not a word – it is a wax seal warm from the press, and every seal tells a story. The hedge-courts don’t keep the peace with swords – they keep it with second chances. And in Viterra, a second chance is always worth the price of a smile.”
— The Bravo of Silkstrand

What do people eat for breakfast? Barley porridge with a drizzle of honey – if you own bees. If not, porridge with salt. Salt is the currency of the poor. Honey is the currency of the hopeful.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To recite their lineage back three generations. Every Viterran child knows their grandparents’ names, trades, and debts. A child who cannot recite is a child without standing. Standing is everything.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Whether they carry a seal ring. A seal ring means they have the right to make contracts in their own name. A stranger without a seal ring is either a servant or a criminal. In Viterra, the difference is a matter of paperwork.

What is the most common crime? Boundary disputes. A hedge moved three feet east. A milestone replaced under cover of darkness. A ford declared “private” when it has been public for two centuries. The courts are clogged. The lawyers are rich. The hedges are patient.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Queen is not a warrior. She has never drawn a sword. Her reputation was forged by a propaganda campaign run by her spymaster. The spymaster is dead. His successor is more discreet.

Where do people go when they die? To the family plot – if they have a family. The landless poor are buried in parish cemeteries, their headstones marked with a single word: “Anonymous.” The ghosts wander the hedgerows at dusk. They do not remember their names. They remember their debts.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You petition the hedge-court for a “writ of contrition.” You state your wrong aloud while holding a handful of earth from the wronged party’s land. If the earth crumbles, you are forgiven. If it holds, you are not.

What is the most important festival? The Opening of the Rolls (autumn). Every county sends its tax records to the capital. The documents are carried by children, so the next generation learns the weight of obligation.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Codex of Precedents has a missing page. It was torn out during a trial for treason. The page contained the precedent for executing a monarch. The Queen knows. The Justiciars know. The page is hidden in a lead-lined box beneath the hedge-court at Thornwood.

Viterra — “The Hedge-Law Realm”

Key Demographics: Lethai-al Capital City: Valora

Entanglements

To the West:

Vhasia – The Belworth River is a border written in blood; chevauchée raids are a seasonal plague. The Queen’s justiciars ride west every spring.

To the East:

The Dolmis Sea – Theona and Zakov are reachable by sea; the Queen’s navy is small but fierce. The hedge-law does not extend past the tide line.

To the North:

Ubral – The highland clans owe no allegiance to the crown; tax collectors go armed. The Queen’s writ is respected only where her knights ride.

To the South:

Thepyrgos – The Black River marks the boundary of Synod law; fugitives cross both ways. A Viterran warrant is kindling in Thepyrgos, and vice versa.

Theona:

Eastern Viterran earls clamor to dominate the isles; the Abbess plays a dangerous game.

Quick Reference

Tagline: Every hedge is a boundary. Every boundary is a claim. Every claim is a blade.

Queen Veralyn Everblood (Elite): “I was Fenwood’s ward when I was sixteen. I took Lence’s walls for him. I made the Vhasian Sun-court run red. Now I sit on a throne built of precedents—and I keep a dagger under my pillow. The hedge that is not defended is only a suggestion. The law that is not enforced is only a memory. I will have both remembered. But sometimes I wonder which hand shakes more when I seal a charter: the queen’s, or the enforcer’s.”

Fen Reeve Cuthbert (Commoner): “Barons to the west with blood on their hands, Earls to the east shapenin’ their knives…Witches to the south and Dukes everywhere, laws everywhere. I keep my nose down, count my sheep, pay my tax, and obey my lord. That’s enough for me.”

Genre / Mood: Post-imperial consolidation, legal warfare as blood sport, border adventurism, fragile crown haunted by fratricide.

Starting Location: The Hall of Dawning tilt-yard at first light. Dawn-knights drill in armor polished like mirrors—each dent a story from last week’s legal duel. Beside them, advocates rehearse arguments with the same intensity, palms slick on pommels. A Queen’s Justiciar slides a parchment across an oaken rail, her seal ring catching the dawn. “Three charters, one road across the Belworth. The Vhasian claimant says the bridge is theirs. The local reeve says it’s crown land. The abbey says it’s a pilgrimage, not a toll. Carry the Queen’s writ, break the Quiet Tolls, and make them agree—by clause or by cut. The Earls are watching, and the Queen has only just secured the throne. Fail, and you’ll give her enemies the excuse they need: that she is still Fenwood’s bloody handmaiden, not Viterra’s queen.”

Viterra is a kingdom learning to stand alone after throwing off the Utaran yoke. Once a proud realm before the legions came, it never forgave the empire. Its hedge-laws and parish courts preserved a stubborn identity that parchment and wax could never erase. Now, under the young Warrior Queen Veralyn Everblood—ward of the Fenwood dukes, veteran of the sack of Lence, and still Duchess of Aberiel in Vhasia—Viterra is trying to remember what it means to rule itself.

But the crown is not secure. Veralyn took the throne only after the sudden death of her brother, King Baldwyn Brightstide, whose two-year reign ended in a swift, mysterious illness. Rumors whisper it was Fenwood’s doing, to clear the path for their claim. His death was a wound the kingdom has not healed. The northern earls, descendants of old hill-kings, watched for a misstep that proved she was still Fenwood’s instrument. Some of them secretly funded the fanatics who killed her father, Wyllmot, five years earlier—a betrayal she has just finished rooting out with steel and statute. The eastern barons, who expected greater spoils from the Lence campaign because she was the Fenwood duke’s ward, now grumble that she has rewarded loyalty to the crown, not to the sword. Every spring, the Queen’s justiciars ride west with warrants. Every autumn, Vhasian routiers raid the grain convoys. The border is not a line on a map. It is an argument. And the Queen intends to win it—even if she must become the thing she swore to leave behind.

The realm’s true sinews lie in writs, charters, and ancient rights that bind lord to tenant, crown to county, church to common. Yet there is no single, unified law. The Queen’s law competes with the earls’ law, the barons’ law, the custom of the fens, the Ubral clan law of the high passes, and the Vhasian claims that bleed across the Belworth. A deed valid in Valora may be worthless in the Marches. A crown-court judgment may be overturned by a hedge-moot at dusk. The very question which law is law is settled not in courts, but in the mud of the Belworth, where writs are brandished like blades and blood soaks into the parchment.

What you notice first: The smell of damp parchment laced with old iron. The clatter of writ-runners’ boots on blood-soaked cobblestones. The way every noble’s hand rests on a seal ring worn thin from constant gripping—and every commoner’s hand rests on a hatchet notched with Vhasian blood.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never cross the Belworth without a charter recognized on both banks. Viterran law and Vhasian claim fight every crossing, and the river takes the losers—sometimes still clutching a forged writ to their chest.

What Players Actually Do Here

The Hedge-Law Realm is about legal warfare, border disputes, and royal legitimacy. A party in Viterra will most often:

• Resolve legal disputes between crown law, hedge-law, and Vhasian claims, often through duels or hedge-moots.

• Navigate the Queen’s fragile authority, choosing sides between the Crown, the northern earls, and the eastern barons.

• Investigate the Succession’s Shadow—the death of King Baldwyn Brightstide, the secret funding of King Wyllmot’s murder, and Earl Morcar’s ambitions.

• Defend the border against Vhasian routiers, Ubral raiders, and the ever-present threat of the Belworth’s claims.

Key hooks:

• Three charters, one road across the Belworth. Which claimant will you support?

• Earl Morcar of the North has been humbled. He is waiting for a misstep.

• The Queen’s crown has no jewels—only seals from conquered claims. She will not surrender her Vhasian title.

Regional Mood: The Queen’s Long Shadow

Here, the law is a weapon and the past is a ledger still open. Veralyn’s throne is a fortress she built with borrowed steel and her own blood. The northern earls have been humbled—their levies disbanded, their charters rewritten—but they watch from their keeps, waiting for a misstep. The eastern barons, who expected land and tariffs from the Lence campaign, now find themselves audited and outmaneuvered. They whisper that she fights like a Vhasian, rules like a Fenwood, and trusts no one. They are correct. Across the Belworth, the Vhasian claimants still style themselves the rightful kings of Vhasia, and they remember that Veralyn once rode with Braedyn Fenwood. The Queen’s peace is a contract written in ink and witnessed by steel. Every spring, she rides west with her justiciars. Every autumn, the routiers test the borders. The hedge-law holds—barely.

In any Viterran court, the ninth citation of precedent voids all previous citations. The wise stop at eight and settle out of court. Those who cite the ninth are said to hear faint laughter from the marble walls—and their cases are never heard again. Some say the laughter is Baldwyn Brightstide’s, still judging from the shadow of the throne.

The ninth witness called to a hedge-moot is always a ghost. The wise stop at eight. Those who call a ninth find that the ghost speaks the truth—but the truth is always the worst possible version, and the living witnesses remember it as their own. The hedges themselves are full of these truths.

Prominent NPCs of Viterra

Names of Viterra

(Reeve/Guild/Knight/Legal Advocate)

Fen reeve with tally-rod speaking for dike guilds; river-carter syndic moving grain faster than rumor; justices of the peace settling disputes with careful pen—and a wary eye for Vhasian poison in the ink.

Using the Viterra Deck

Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer : 2–5 → 4 segments, 6–10 → 6 segments, J/Q/K → 8 segments, A → 10 segments.

Diamonds are codified outcomes (writs, charters, priority) that change position rather than call for a roll.

If any Ace appears, echo hedge-law motifs—boundaries blur like old scars, charters contradict like guilty consciences, precedent splinters like shaky oaths, and the careful web of legal authority shows its living cracks. Legal warfare escalates to physical conflict not as failure, but as the only language left when words run dry.

Spades — Places

Reeve, Guild, Knight, Legal Advocate

2. Fen Causeway — Stile with toll-rod and eel carts queueing; each reeve claims right under a different charter. Dueling advocates argue on platforms slick with river-mist. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[TRADE]‘ The causeway sinks an inch each year. The lawyers argue over whose fault it is—and whether the sinking is a sign from Lence’s drowned kings.

3. Hedgerow Green — In the Dales; bows strung under apple trees where justices of the peace hold court beneath makeshift arbors. Court duels permitted for matters of honor and old scores. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The apple tree is called “the Hanging Judge.” Its fruit tastes of iron—not from the soil, but from the Vhasian claimant hanged from its branches for poaching Queen’s deer.

4. Beacon Hill — Above the Highlands; fire-grate still warm from last winter’s levy call, signal tower with semaphore arms for legal dispatches and military alerts. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The hill has three beacons. One for Ubral raids. One for Vhasian incursions. One for paperwork—lit when the Queen’s justiciars are lying.

5. Belworth Stairs — Ferry ledgers gone damp with river-mist; three manors claim toll rights, writs in three different hands. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The stairs were repaired last year. The Vhasian side uses a different measurement—and a different kind of truth.

6. Bloom Quarry — Old iron-bloom turned drill yard; hammer echoes carry like war drums. Military contracts awarded through legal bidding wars. ‘[CRAFT]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The forge-reeve has never lost a contract. His opponents have a habit of vanishing the night before the bid—leaving only their seals behind, still warm.

7. Parish Maze — Stone maze where three maps disagree; hedge-priest’s vote decides tithe and freehold. Legal disputes settled by navigating correctly—or accepting the priest’s blessing. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[RIDDLE]‘ The maze changes at night. The hedge-priest says that’s God’s will—and the lawyers say that’s when the Vhasian smugglers move their goods.

8. Fairport Works — Tideworks at the Dolmis mouth; customs writs in three languages flutter like wounded birds. Maritime law enforcement includes boarding actions where the Queen’s men find Vhasian coins stamped with Viterran seals. ‘[TRADE]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ One language is Utaran. One is Linn. One is for the smugglers—written in salt and silence.

9. Law Quarter — Valora archives, oath-rooms, Hall of Dawning where precedent is birthed in ink and sealed with wax. Adjacent training grounds for legal advocates who practice strikes on pells wrapped in old charters. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[KNOWLEDGE]‘ The archives have a locked wing. The key is a legal argument no one has won—and no one dares to lose.

10. Counting Fields — Tarlington beside muster ground; wagons load, ledgers mis-sum—sometimes from Vhasian poison slipped into the ink by desperate clerks. Auditors with quill-pens sharp as daggers. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[LABOR]‘ The auditors carry swords. They say it’s for counting cattle. No one asks further—but they watch the hands that hold the pens.

11. Dike Crown — Ring of turf and timber; brotherhood bells warn of flood and spies who move like water through the fen. Legal sanctuary for those fleeing court judgments—if they can outrun the reeve’s wrath. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The sanctuary lasts for one tide. After that, the reeves can come—if they can find you before the Vhasian raiders do.

12. Progress Camp — Queen’s canvas palisade, banners stiff. Old courtiers plot advancement through legal maneuver and sanctioned duels—each bout a test of whether the throne is steel or silk. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The camp moves every week. The lawsuits follow at a measured pace—each one a step closer to the Queen proving she is more than Fenwood’s shadow.

13. Tilt-Yard — Hall of Dawning at first light; Dawn-knights drill clean, loyalties in contracts signed with careful pen. Legal challenges often end in trial by combat. ‘[COMBAT]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The sand is raked between duels. Sometimes the rake turns up old blood—or old oaths sworn on dying breath.

14. Highway Stone — Queen’s milestone above the Dolmis road; three sheriffs post seals over hers, each claiming different jurisdiction. Territory disputes resolved through armed arbitration. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The stone has been broken and reglued seven times. Each crack holds a forgotten compromise.

Hearts — People & Factions

Federate, Mixed Court, Diaspora

2. Fen Reeve — Tally-rod; speaks for dike guilds, remembers every flood-year’s debts. Authorized to call local levies and levy blood-price if the papers do not add up. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[COMMUNITY]‘ His tally-rod has notches from three floods. The next notch may be from a Vhasian raid he let happen to test the Queen’s resolve.

3. River Syndic — Moves grain faster than rumor; knows which writs matter and which customs officials can be persuaded. Maintains armed merchant guards. ‘[TRADE]‘ ‘[STEALTH]‘ His ledger has a watermark—a crown on one side, a sunburst on the other. He shows the right side to the right audience.

4. Parish Surveyor — Three maps, one opinion—but the opinion changes with the wind and the weight of a Vhasian coin. Hedge-walks settle more disputes than courts. ‘[KNOWLEDGE]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ His chain is exactly one rod long—but the rod changes length depending on who is paying.

5. Dawn Quartermaster — Ledgers sharper than tongue; counts every farthing spent in the Queen’s name. Legal authority over military supplies—and over the Queen’s hesitation when the books do not balance. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[LABOR]‘ He once tracked a missing farthing to a Vhasian counting house. It was returned with interest, and a note in Vhasian script: “Next time, we take the whole sack.”

6. Levy Serjeant — Dales bow calm, cider breath, memory keen for every loophole in the mustering laws. Commands armed civilians in legal enforcement actions. ‘[COMBAT]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ His bowstring is made from a canceled writ—one that promised peace and delivered only war. He says it shoots truer now.

7. Cleric-Pair — Light preacher versus Everflame canon lawyer; debates decide tithe law. Religious law carries weight in secular courts—because even kings fear a god who keeps score. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ They share a room at the inn. They have not spoken outside court in seven years—but they still pass the salt with care.

8. Fairport Shipwright — Dolmis cousins; skiff carries more secrets than cargo. Expert in maritime law and naval combat—where the truth is in the hold and the lie in the manifest. ‘[CRAFT]‘ ‘[STEALTH]‘ Her skiff has no name. The customs clerks have given it three—and each one is a different kind of truth.

9. Fenwood Comptroller — Conjures wagons with a signature, silence with a seal. Tracks every debt owed to the crown. Legal authority over taxation—and over the Queen’s guilt when the books do not balance. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[TRADE]‘ His quill is a dagger. He has used it as both—to write, and to remind himself what happens when the ink runs dry.

10. Queen’s Justiciar — Law on the road, polite as a noose. Bearing three kings’ judgments and a purse full of pardons. Authorized to conduct trial by combat. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ She has never lost a legal duel. Her opponents have a tendency to fall down stairs—and then lie very still.

11. Border Routier — Reads ledgers as ambushes and writes them as tribute. Serves two crowns, collects from both. Expert in frontier law enforcement—where the ledger is often the first thing to burn. ‘[STEALTH]‘ ‘[TRADE]‘ His loyalty is to the highest bidder. The Queen and the Vhasian claimant are currently in a bidding war—and the currency is lives.

12. Warrior Queen — Crown on helm, sword at side; the weight is familiar. Final arbiter in legal duels—where she wins not by being right, but by being willing to go further. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ Her crown has no jewels—only seals. Each seal is a conquered claim, still warm from the hand that took it. Still signs some charters as Duchess of Aberiel, a reminder that she has not forgotten her Vhasian title.

13. Crown Council — Fenwood dukes, guild envoys, abbots; weighing grain against glory and the shadow of Baldwyn Brightstide against them all. Legal battles fought through proxy advocates. ‘[POLITICS]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The council has a standing rule: no weapons within the chamber. The advocates have found seventeen loopholes—and eighteen reasons to break it.

14. Master Advocate Halric — Silver-tongued legal warrior who settles disputes through verbal duels that can end in physical combat. Keeper of legal combat traditions. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ He has won cases in Vhasian, Thepyrgos, and Ubral courts using their own precedents—and their own blades when the words ran out.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

Hedge, Crown, and Claim

2. Dike Breach — Black-rain; the wrong reeve claims credit while wagons drown. The water carries peat and the ghost of Lence’s last stand. Legal liability demands armed enforcement. ‘[DISASTER]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The river argues back, carrying old deeds and screams downstream.

3. Feast Clash — Light versus Everflame processions collide; shutters slam, writs fly. Justices of the peace called to settle which holy day takes precedence. Honor disputes may require legal duels. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The processions take different routes now. The clash was not an accident—it was an invitation.

4. Quiet Tolls — Sprout on the Queen’s Highway. Escorts sniff traps laid by smugglers and the Queen’s own doubts. Sheriffs argue rights; customs officials demand duties no one knew existed. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The toll posts have fresh paint from a Vhasian claimant’s keep—and it’s still wet.

5. Audit Freeze — Counting-house freezes cargo. The ink was slipped with Vhasian poison by desperate clerks. Queen’s seal versus old writs; auditors with quill-pens sharp as daggers. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[DEBT]‘ The auditors work by candlelight. The shadows on the walls look like gallows.

6. Border Snarl — Three courts arrest the same hay-cart. It’s not about the hay; it’s about whose charter was signed with cleaner hands. Bribes flow like wine—and Vhasian silver. Frontier justice involves armed standoffs. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The hay is from a field that was Vhasian last spring. Now it’s Viterran. The field hasn’t moved—but the souls working it have.

7. Isle Refusal — Theona withholds levy. The quays choke on rumor and the old curses the Three Greens mutter when Viterran boots touch their soil. Ships idle while lawyers debate maritime law. ‘[POLITICS]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ Theona’s envoy carries a hawthorn branch—not of peace, but of warning.

8. Delta Spat — Fairport versus Marcott customs. Barges stack three deep; merchants pick sides for old scores. Inspectors examine every manifest for truth or the Vhasian tell. ‘[TRADE]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The magnifying glasses reveal truth—and also start fires. Both are useful.

9. Routier Arrears — A free-company flips unless someone pays. It’s about the name on the ledger and whether it’s written in Vhasian silver or Queen’s trust. Legal debts enforced through hired swords. ‘[DEBT]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The routiers have a list. Your name is on it—or will be by sunset.

10. Salt Pinch — Import spikes. Bakers barricade for old scores, not just profit. The Queen’s promise tastes like thin gruel because of ash from the burned Vhasian customs post. Riots brew. ‘[WEATHER]‘ ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The salt is gray. It was cut with ashes from a burned Vhasian customs post—and it still smells like smoke.

11. Dawn Recall — Escort pulled to a flood-struck parish. The writ argues with the river, and the river argues back, carrying the Queen’s doubts. Justices demand inquiry into who neglected the dikes. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The escorts are back in a week. They bring new writs—and fewer men.

12. Aberielist Intrigue — Royalist seals in wrong hands. Conspirators plot in quiet places where the law feels thin. Treason charges carry death penalty in legal duels. ‘[POLITICS]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The seals are from a dead duke—and the duke’s ghost is said to approve. Or to weep.

13. Levy Call-Up — Dalesmen mustered. Wagons seized “for the realm,” conscription writs signed with careful pen. Families left to tend fields alone. Legal authority backed by armed force. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The conscription writs have a clause: “void if Belworth freezes.” The river is still warm.

14. Legal Duel Challenge — Master Advocate Halric issues a formal challenge. Refuse and lose legal standing; accept and risk life and fortune in court-yard combat. The winner takes all legally. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The challenge is written on both sides of the parchment—and there is no blank space to refuse.

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

Charter, Right, Escort

2. Ferry Priority [Leverage: Passage] — Belworth crossing (once); a horn blown by a Vhasian defector now serving the Queen. Legal right of way backed by armed escort. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The priority token is a writ signed by both banks. One side’s ink is newer; the other still smells of Vhasian smoke.

3. Dike Allotment — Brotherhood labor granted, if three clerks can look past old scores. Work performed under legal contract with military oversight. ‘[LABOR]‘ The allotment includes a clause: “as tides permit.” The reeve decides what the tides permit.

4. Market License [Leverage: Authority] — Valora’s square, if a guild nod is enough. Legal protection from merchant guild enforcement. ‘[TRADE]‘ The license is written on vellum from a Vhasian abbey. The irony is noted.

5. Dawn Escort [Leverage: Protection · Authority] — Four lances at dawn. Their presence keeps lesser men from troubling you. Legal authority to enforce your writs. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The lances are from the Fenwood armory—and the Fenwood dukes have their own plans.

6. River Charter [Leverage: Passage] — Guaranteed haul on a grain artery, if the weather permits. Legal right protected by river patrol. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The charter is stamped with a seal that looks like a crown—or a sunburst. No one can agree.

7. Map Correction [Leverage: Knowledge] — A hedge moves; the border shifts with the truth. Lawsuits bloom. A new survey can make or break a fortune overnight. ‘[LAW]‘ The surveyors carry chains and swords. The swords are for when the chains disagree.

8. Customs Seal [Leverage: Passage] — Fairport for Dolmis cargo. Legal immunity from customs enforcement. ‘[TRADE]‘ The seal is a wax crab. It pinches when pressed—and it remembers the hand that shaped it.

9. Thing Ruling [Leverage: Authority] — Sharp local bite; appeals run swifter than oaths. Court decisions enforceable by local levy. ‘[LAW]‘ The ruling is carved on an oar. Break the oar, and the ruling breaks with it.

10. Salt Allotment — Winter depot; the Queen’s writ opens doors. The right connections ensure the best salt reaches the right tables. ‘[TRADE]‘ The salt is from a pan worked by Ubral exiles. They still count in clan measure.

11. Wardship [Leverage: Authority] — A minor fen-keep. Legal guardianship with military authority—and the quiet hope that the child is worth the trust. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The ward is a child with a seal ring older than the kingdom.

12. Queen’s Audience [Leverage: Authority] — Private; her questions strike like thrusts. Royal decree carries immediate enforcement power. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The audience lasts one hour. The paperwork lasts a generation.

13. Ducal Warrant — Fenwood to enforce customs. The parchment carries weight in any court—and old power bows before new. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The warrant is signed in blood—or ink that looks like blood. The difference matters at trial.

14. Duel Sanction — Right to challenge in legal combat; the Queen’s seal makes it official. The winner takes all legally; the loser learns the cost of doubting the Queen’s peace. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The sanction is a coin. Heads you duel, tails your opponent chooses the weapon.

Viterra Mechanics

Core Timers

Border-Lace [4]

Tracks competing legal claims in a locale. Starts when contradictory papers are invoked. Ticks when:

• A second (or third) valid writ is presented for the same right (+1).

• A player steps up Position using Hedge-Law Momentum (+1).

• A Vhasian or local authority disputes a crown document (+1).

At 4: The dispute escalates immediately to a riot, duel, or jurisdictional void. All social rolls in the locale suffer +1 DV until a ruling is imposed by force or decree.

Succession’s Shadow [6]

Tracks the erosion of Queen Veralyn’s legitimacy from the ghosts of Baldwyn Brightstide’s death and the lingering resentment of the northern earls and eastern barons. Ticks when:

• A document bearing Baldwyn’s seal surfaces (+1).

• A northern earl or eastern baron publicly defies the crown (+1).

• A legal duel is lost by the Queen’s champion (+1).

• The GM spends 2 SB to introduce a witness, forgery, or rumor tied to the crisis (+1).

At 3: Viterran officials and allies suffer –1 die to social rolls (they doubt the throne’s stability). At 6: A serious claimant emerges—perhaps a northern earl with a forged charter, or a Vhasian pretender promising to restore the old border. The Queen must win a legal duel or face a general levy against her authority.

Queen’s Peace [Front]

Once per session, if the party resolves a cross-border dispute in the Queen’s favor without bloodshed, advance this front. If they escalate violence or validate a Vhasian claim, tick Succession’s Shadow instead.

Status & Environment

Hedge-Law Momentum

When a valid writ, charter, or warrant is presented in the proper parish with dry ink and unbroken seal, step Position up one category on social or logistical actions in that locale for the scene. The first contradiction starts the Border-Lace [4] timer.

Beacon & Bell Chain

If two adjacent beacons or brotherhood bells are under your influence and lit for the correct reason, convert one Club draw into a travel delay for others while the party proceeds with improved Effect for movement and logistics. The signal draws scrutiny; the GM may bank 1 SB tied to local authority.

River-Right Window

At a ferry, tidework, or customs stair, play any Diamond tied to crossings or seals to open a short window of lawful passage: one convoy passes uninspected, or one cargo clears at priority. The window closes immediately if a storm, audit, or levy card is revealed.

Legal Duel Protocol

When legal disputes cannot be resolved through argument, parties may challenge each other to a duel. The winner’s position becomes legally binding. Requires proper sanction and seconds (see Duel Sanction Diamond). If either party lacks a sanction, the duel is treated as assault under crown law.

Vhasian Claims

Any Viterran noble with land across the Belworth may invoke a Ducal Warrant to attempt to collect rents or enforce judgments in Vhasia. Doing so starts a Border Snarl complication (or ticks Border-Lace), as Vhasian claimants are unlikely to cooperate. The Queen’s own Vhasian title (Duchess of Aberiel) adds a layer of irony—and suspicion.

The Succession’s Shadow

Any legal dispute touching on inheritance, legitimacy, or royal authority is automatically one step more volatile. The GM may spend 1 SB to introduce a witness, document, or rumor related to Baldwyn Brightstide’s death or the northern earls’ secret funding of King Wyllmot’s murder.

Procedures

Courtroom Mini-Game (Fast Trial)

1. Lay three stones: Precedent, Equity, Force.

2. Argue a point (roll Wits + Sway vs. DV 3). On a hit, move one stone to your side. On a miss, the opposing advocate gains Citation Edge.

3. Win two stones to secure a temporary Court Ruling (treat as a Diamond for one scene).

4. Halric’s Interjection (2 SB): flip Precedent, but start Whispered Precedent [2] with the losing side.

Cross-Border Tensions (Fast Pressure)

• Two opposed timers: Queen’s Peace vs. Border Fire (size by highest rank in the seed).

• Each leg, choose Viterran Road (safe, slow), Vhasian Claim (fast, risky), or Ubral Pass (hidden, costly).

• Advantage: Vhasian Claim → Viterran Road (shortcuts), Ubral Pass → Vhasian Claim (concealment), Viterran Road → Ubral Pass (supplies).

• Spend a Ducal Warrant to shift one segment from Border Fire to Queen’s Peace.

The Queen’s Dial (Legitimacy ↔︎ Pragmatism)

Track the party’s footing between upholding the Queen’s authority and making pragmatic compromises.

• Legitimacy High: +1 Position when invoking royal writs, crown law, or the Queen’s name. First compromise or pragmatic choice each session starts one step worse.

• Pragmatism High: +1 Effect when brokering deals, accepting bribes, or negotiating with rivals. First appeal to royal authority each session starts one step worse.

• Center the dial by resolving a dispute in a way that satisfies both the Queen’s law and local custom, or by winning a legal duel in the Queen’s name.

Start-of-Scene Rumors

Roll 1d6 at the start of a Viterran scene:

1. Wrong Wax: A rival’s seals softened; +1d to forgeries this scene.

2. Empty Beacon: Tower unmanned; travel faster, scrutiny harsher.

3. Dawn-Lane Cleared: First convoy action gains +1 Position.

4. Clerk’s Wedding: Filings delayed; first petition ignores Audit Freeze.

5. Fen High Water: Ferries slow; river-charters count double value today.

6. Mask at Progress: Someone uses your name at court; +1d to social opens, +1 SB banked by GM.

Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Hedge: Crumble a crust at a parish boundary stone. Ignore the first Border Snarl penalty. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Knot the Writ: Tie a single knot in a charter’s ribbon. Cancel Audit Freeze or take –1 die on your next legal argument (your choice). ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Name to the River: Whisper a dead claimant’s name into the Belworth. Gain +1 Effect when arguing against their heir’s claim this scene, but mark Obligation to the Queen’s Justiciar. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• The Brightstide Candle: Light a candle in memory of King Baldwyn before a difficult legal proceeding. On a roll that includes a 1, you may reroll that die once. If you still fail, the GM banks 1 SB. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

Strain Budget (SB) Spends

Minor (1 SB)

• Exposure: Crown officials or rival advocates take notice.

• Noise: Writ-runners or levy guards are alerted.

• Trace: Trackers or customs inspectors mark your route.

• Delay: Lose a favorable court date or legal window.

• Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.

Moderate (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: The Queen’s Justiciar or a fen reeve responds.

• Position Lost: Legal challenge or river closure costs you advantage.

• Foe Appears: A rival claimant or border routier arrives.

• Gear Trouble: A key item becomes Compromised or Neglected.

• Lock/Barrier: A simple obstacle now requires a test to overcome.

Serious (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Dawn-knights, levy forces, or Vhasian routiers arrive.

• Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool or weapon becomes temporarily unusable.

• Major Twist: Writ voided, duel declared, or levy called.

• Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.

• Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1, Harm 1, or an appropriate Condition.

Major (4+ SB)

• Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.

• Authority Arrival: The Warrior Queen, Crown Council, or Master Advocate Halric intervenes.

• Scene Shift: Dike breaks, river floods, or court erupts.

• Patron Omen: Divine or arcane forces manifest—an omen appears, a blessing is lost, or a curse manifests.

• Narrative Pivot: The story reframes your objectives unexpectedly.

Region-Specific SB Conversions

• Hedge Shift (1 SB): A boundary stone shifts; increase DV by 1 for navigation or legal rolls this scene.

• Citation War (2 SB): Increase DV by 1 unless you produce a precedent (spend a ◇ or recall a past ruling).

• Seal Crack (3+ SB): A writ loses half its value until re-witnessed.

• Succession’s Whisper (2 SB, Viterra only): A document or rumor tied to Baldwyn Brightstide’s death surfaces. The GM must answer one yes/no question about royal legitimacy or introduce a related complication. Earl Morcar’s involvement may also be hinted.

Boss Seeds (Three-Phase Foes)

The Violet Clerk (Master of Counter-Seals)

Phases: Produce Earlier Patent → Split the Writ → Seal Fast.
Cracks: A Queen’s Audience [Leverage: Authority] overrules his seal; a Duel Sanction forces personal combat; a Map Correction [Leverage: Knowledge] voids his boundary claim.

The Thorn Captain (Queen’s Quiet Hand)

Phases: Queenspeace Zone → Duel Warrant → Swap the Field.
Cracks: A Map Correction [Leverage: Knowledge] reveals a loophole; a Dike Allotment lets you claim the field as “flood zone”; a Border Routier testifies to the Queen’s favor.

The Saffron Abbess (Keeper of Bell-Law)

Phases: Wrong Hour → Bless or Damn → Mixed Tribunal.
Cracks: A Queen’s Justiciar invokes crown supremacy; a Border Routier bribes her bell-ringer; a Thing Ruling [Leverage: Authority] from Theona forces her to recuse.

The Brightstide Claimant (Pretender)

Phases: Produce the Lost Charter → Rally the Northern Earls → March on Valora.
Cracks: Find proof the charter is a forgery; convince Earl Morcar to stand with the Queen (or expose his role in Wyllmot’s death); survive a legal duel with the claimant’s champion.

Legendary Sites & Trials

Belworth Stairs Ordeal

Cross the river without a charter. On success, you prove possession is nine-tenths of the law. On failure, the river takes your name and cargo. (Wits + Lore vs. DV 5.)

Hall of Dawning Vigil

Spend a night in the tilt-yard. At dawn, recall a forgotten precedent; gain a one-use Precedent Edge (+1 die in any court). The ghost of a dead duelist may challenge you to a legal dream-duel. (Spirit + Lore vs. DV 4.)

Hedge-Moot at Dusk

Settle a boundary dispute by walking the hedge. Each successful navigation test (Wits + Lore) clears 1 segment from a Border Snarl timer. A miss plants the thorn of a future feud (advance Border-Lace by 1).

Lore Echoes

• The Hedge-Seal (The Dike Covenant): Covenant judges in the eastern parishes adjudicate river tolls and inheritance. They carry iron scales and a copy of the Hedge-Law Tables—each page stained by a different flood. A ruling is binding in both Viterra and the Vhasian marches, but any party who lies before them forfeits their right to appeal. The Warrior Queen has granted them a charter; the Fenwood dukes consider them spies.

• Saint Cuthbert of the Fen (The Traveler): A legendary reeve who walked the flooded dikes during the Great Storm, lighting every beacon by hand. His shrines are stiles and bridge posts; travelers who touch the iron ring and speak a destination find the road holds firm. The fen folk leave offerings of eels at his cairns.

• The Cog-Cults of the Northern Hills (The Clockwork Monad): Secret fraternities of millers and surveyors near the Ubral border believe law is a machine that can be perfected. They meet in abandoned watermills, measuring boundaries with brass chains and reciting the Canons of Proportion. The Everflame calls them heretics; the Queen’s justiciars ignore them.

• The Salt Sworn of the Eastern Coast (The Pale Shepherd): Along the Dolmis shore, a syncretic cult tends to the drowned. They build cairns of salt stone and leave no offerings—only the names of the lost, carved into driftwood. Temple of Light missions sent to suppress them have been found adrift with no crew and a single name carved into the mast: Oblivion.

Cross-Region Hooks

• Ubral (Stone & Oath): A Ducal Warrant acts as a Guest-Token once at a clan hearth. Starts a Feud Rekindled tick if you collect tolls twice in a tenday.

• Thepyrgos (Synod Law): A Queen’s Audience [Leverage: Authority] can suspend a synod interdict. Starts Whispered Precedent in Thepyrgos.

• Vhasia (Fractured Sun): A Duel Sanction is recognized on the Pont-du-Tithe. A rival abbey can turn it into Parlement Divided on a Club draw. The Queen’s own Vhasian title (Duchess of Aberiel) may be used as leverage—or as a weapon against her.

• Theona (No Ninth): Ferry Priority [Leverage: Passage] overrides a local taboo once. If the Ninth custom is in play, the writ “forgets” one clause on use (GM banks 1 SB).

Conspiracy Flourishes

• Hedge-Moots at Dusk: Parish elders “trim hedges” while trading sealed whispers.

• Cipher Roses: Folded writs stamped with thorn-petals; one petal missing marks a false clause.

• Mirror Hours: Beacons flash lawful signals—reversed for those who know the counter-code.

• Eel-Letters: Oiled parchment smuggled in eel-baskets; ink runs in water, truth does not.

• Quiet Steel, Quieter Quills: Dawn-knights duel at first light; advocates settle three duels before breakfast with ink alone.

• Progress Masks: Courtiers wear legal devices as masque motifs (seal, chain, beacon) to signal faction at a glance.

• Bell Penance: A single off-hour peal grants amnesty to those who confess a clause before the twelfth echo.

• The Brightstide Prayer: Whispering the dead king’s name before a legal proceeding is said to turn the judge’s heart—or curse the speaker. Some say Earl Morcar still whispers it each night.

In Viterra, power flows through the careful application of law—but beneath every charter runs the threat of steel. The Warrior Queen maintains authority through a combination of military might and legal precision, but the throne is fragile. The old duchies and local officials wield influence through knowledge of hedge-law and ancient custom. The true power lies not in the documents alone, but in the will to enforce them when the parchment fails.

For the GM: Patronage in Viterra revolves around legal documents, local rights, and the ability to command respect from institutions still finding their post-imperial identity. Rewards often take the form of writs, charters, and official positions that can be leveraged into greater influence—but they can be challenged, stolen, or voided, especially if they bear the dead king’s seal.

• Tie rewards to visible symbols (seals, writs, charters) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided.

• Let rival duchies and Vhasian claimants issue conflicting authorities, forcing players to choose whose favor matters more.

• Use the courts, parishes, and muster grounds as arenas for social contests, where knowledge of law and custom determines success.

• When legal conflicts escalate beyond words, transition naturally to physical confrontation with appropriate stakes.

• Introduce the Succession’s Shadow as a recurring complication: old loyalties, forged documents, the ghost of Baldwyn Brightstide, and the secret funding of King Wyllmot’s murder can upend any legal certainty.

In Viterra, your papers are your power. And your power determines whether you rule or are ruled. But when words fail, steel speaks—and the law says both are valid. The Queen’s Peace is a contract. She has signed it in blood. Will you?

Named Lineage: Cross-Reference to the Fenwood-Everblood Chronicles

For GMs running the specific, named history of The Fenwood-Everblood Chronicles (reference/expansions) rather than a generated one: the Warrior Queen is Veralyn “Demoneye” Everblood, elder of the late King Baldvyn “Brightstride” and daughter of King Wyllmot the Warrior (killed storming Eryas Citadel) and Queen Alaysha, née Renard. Brightstride’s death is the “Succession’s Shadow” front below; the leading suspect, never formally accused, is his young widow Jaennis Fenwood. Earl Morcar maps cleanly onto the Viterran earls who quietly funded the Shadow-Court’s assassins during the Seven Week Uprising — a debt Veralyn has not forgotten, even where she cannot yet prove it. The Fenwood Comptroller and Crown Council entries in the Hearts suite are, in named play, Duke Braedyn Fenwood’s household — the same house that sacked Lence on the Queen’s behalf and now audits her kingdom’s grain.

Political Factions of the Hedge-Law Realm

Terrestrial Patrons: Myrmis and Canray

As in Vhasia (see the Vhasian generator, §), two regional patrons shadow Viterran court life. Myrmis takes as she gives and is blamed, quietly, for every death at court no one can otherwise explain — her name is barely spoken since the Seven Week Uprising, and Renard blood is still watched for it. Canray, or Kon’reh, is the Fenwood discipline of patience and clause-work that built the Queen’s own throne; it is played openly at court as a board game and practiced silently as a philosophy of rule. A Viterran PC who takes Canray as a Terrestrial Patron treats every major decision as a negotiable clause — which is a strength at the table and a vulnerability in a fight that will not wait for terms.

Thepyrgos

City of a Thousand Stairs.

“Thepyrgos is a vertical labyrinth of stair-rights, rope-guilds, and synod edicts that shift with the tide. The Synod rules with the delicacy of a brick wrapped in velvet – they hate unsanctioned magic, but they adore infrastructure. Beneath the city, the Unfinished Stair waits for those who ask a question the Synod cannot answer.”
— The True-Mason

What do people eat for breakfast? Flatbread with olive oil and a boiled egg – if you are a clerk. If you are a student, bread and water. If you are a professor, bread, water, and a single fig. The fig is a status symbol. The status is “I have not been audited.”

What does a child learn before they can walk? To read a bell schedule. Thepyrgos runs on bells – dawn bells, market bells, curfew bells, trial bells. A child who cannot read the bells cannot cross the city without a guardian. A child without a guardian is a child who will be sold to the university for dissection.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their step count. Thepyrgos has a thousand stairs. A stranger who counts them aloud is either a pilgrim or a spy. A stranger who climbs them in silence is either a native or a ghost.

What is the most common crime? Unsanctioned magic. The Synod licenses every spell cast within the walls. An unlicensed cantrip is a misdemeanour. An unlicensed healing is a felony. An unlicensed summoning is a death sentence – not for the caster, who will be executed, but for the summoned, who will be bound to the city’s foundation as a “structural consultant.”

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Silent Stair is not silent. It whispers the confessions of dead scholars – their secrets recorded in the stone. The Chain-Lanterns listen. They do not share.

Where do people go when they die? To the catacombs beneath the university. The catacombs are a library of bones. Each skeleton is labeled with the scholar’s name, their thesis, and the date of their death. The unlabelled bones are the ones who died before they could finish. They are still writing.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You submit a “retraction” to the Synod’s Committee on Ethical Correction. The retraction is published in the public square, read aloud by a herald, and witnessed by three notaries. The fee is 50 silver. The shame is free.

What is the most important festival? The Convocation of the Steps (summer solstice). Every citizen climbs the thousand stairs to the upper citadel. The Archon reads the names of the dead from the past year. The names are carved into the steps as they are read. The steps are getting crowded.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Archon is a fraud. He never passed the Synod’s examination. His degree was purchased from a disgraced dean whose signature is forged on every document. The forger is still alive. They live in the catacombs. They have the original quill.

Thepyrgos — “The City of Unfinished Proofs”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Thepyrgos (The City)

Entanglements

To the North:

Viterra – The Black River is a legal and physical border; hedge-law meets Synod edict here. Fugitives cross both ways; the Chain-Lanterns watch the fords.

To the East:

The Dolmis Sea – Zakov corsairs and Aelinnel tide-traders slip past the chain-towers. The boom is raised when the moon is high and the tide is low.

To the South:

The Hyro Hinterlands – Astroegro ruins leak forgotten magic; the Commissariat sweeps the villages for latent talent. The Ninth’s Coterie moves freely in the ruins.

To the West (via the Amaranthine):

Kahfagia – Signal-codes and beacon treaties are exchanged; the Lantern-Law and the Synod maintain a watchful peace across the. Neither trusts the other’s mirrors.

Quick Reference

Tagline: Every stair is a question. Every answer is a proof. The Ninth and the Witness argue over whose record holds the truth.

The Archon (Elite): “Every stair climbed is a word in the great conversation between earth and sky. This city is not built—it is grown, stone by stone, law by law, until the very architecture speaks wisdom. But the stairs remember more than the living. They remember the ones who never came down.”

Bell-Runner (Commoner): “I know every step that creaks a warning and every landing that whispers gossip. The bells tell the city’s mood better than any lord—three chimes means business, six means trouble, and nine means the hunters are coming. But on the ninth bell, the stairs themselves answer.”

Genre / Mood: Scholarly vertical city, labyrinthine imperial bureaucracy, coastal peninsular folk horror in the hinterlands, metaphysical war between memory and forgetting.

Starting Location: The Synod Hall at dusk. Gold-glass mosaics glitter as a Matriarch reads a scroll aloud. “The Beacon Crown sees traitors in the smoke. A child’s talent was surrendered to the Commissary last night. Find the informer—or the next stair seized will be yours. And if you hear a stair creak where none exists, do not turn around. The Ninth is counting.”

Thepyrgos is both realm and city, built on the bones of the drowned Astroegro Empire. The capital rises in tiers of towers, terraces, and endless stairs above the Dolmis shore—but the stairs are not stone. They are fossilized vertebrae, the spine of a leviathan that Khemesh dragged under when the last emperor broke a covenant older than the sea. Once a Utaran province, now a nation unto itself, Thepyrgos is famed for its universities, libraries, and debating synods, where precedent and philosophy weigh as much as pikes or coin.

The Astroegro were a human civilization of formidable magic, the ancient rivals of the Valewood’s Empire of Leaves. Their ruins litter the hills and swamps south of the city, and their legacy haunts every threshold. When the Empire of Leaves fell, Lethai-thora refugees—high elves who had served as archivists and lore-keepers—fled across the Black River and were granted sanctuary in Thepyrgos. Generations later, their descendants still walk the city’s tiers, their silver hair and ink-stained fingers a quiet reminder of a pact older than the synod. Many now hold chairs at the university, tend the forbidden archives, or secretly serve the Witness or the Ninth.

Outside the city, the countryside is a rugged coastal landscape of limestone hills, olive groves, and whitewashed villages—but the weather is warmer, wetter, and the valleys are choked with reed-filled marshes. This is the land of the Hyro people, the surviving descendants of the Astroegro. The Hyro carry the fracture of their ancestors in their blood. A child born in the hills might dream in geometries that do not exist. A farmer might hear the stones whispering in a language no living throat can shape. The Chain-Lanterns and other Witch-Hunter Commissariats ruthlessly patrol these villages, using posted warrants, candle-smoke tests, and stair-seizures to identify and kidnap children with arcane talent. The Hyro have learned to offer substitutes—a memory, a false name, a lock of hair—at crossroads, hoping the Hollow accepts the tribute.

In the university’s forbidden tiers, the Witness and the Ninth fight a proxy war via fraternal orders and occult mystery cults. The Witness wants the Astroegro Vaults remembered but sealed; the Ninth wants them opened, to trigger a Great Unlearning that would erase the concept of record from the world. No provenance would remain. The Hollow would go unanswered. The Witness would have nothing to inscribe. The Ninth would become the only law: forgetting. No one is sure which side the Archon secretly favors. And in the ruins of the Astroegro, something still ticks—gears of black glass, locked doors that hum, and the occasional survivor with eyes like burning tar who speaks of a pressure from below.

What you notice first: The endless chime of bells from different tiers, never quite in sync. The smell of brine, olive oil, and candle wax. The way locals glance at the sky when a child coughs—and then at the nearest crossroads. The quiet grace of the Lethai-thora archivists, who never seem to blink.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never let a bell-ringer count your breaths. The Chain-Lanterns offer safe conduct to those who give names that ring false on the test stairs. But worse: never ask a question of a stair that has no end. The Ninth is listening, and it will answer.

Regional Mood: Stairs, Bells, and the Argument of Patrons

Here, every ascent is a plea and every descent a confession. Thepyrgos the city is a vertical labyrinth of stair-rights, rope-guilds, and synod edicts that shift with the tide. Thepyrgos the province is a haunted countryside of hidden talent and state-sanctioned abduction. The Hyro keep their arcane children in root cellars and haylofts, praying the hunters take the neighbor’s instead. The Chain-Lanterns move at dawn, their brass censers swinging, their bells tuned to the frequency of latent magic. In the university’s forbidden tiers, the Witness and the Ninth arm rival fraternities with citations and curses, and no one is sure which side the Archon secretly favors. The Lethai-thora maintain the great archives, but they are divided—some serve the Witness as faithful recorders, others whisper to the Ninth in darkened scriptoria. And in the ruins of the Astroegro, something still ticks—gears of black glass, locked doors that hum, and the occasional survivor with eyes like burning tar who speaks of a pressure from below.

Geographic Integration

Thepyrgos is landlocked on three sides by Viterra, separated by the Black River and the Belmont Marshes. The marshy lowlands breed strange fogs and rarer creatures, and the border is porous—Viterran hedge-courts and Thepyrgos synods argue jurisdiction over every flooded farmstead. To the northeast, a short boat ride from Fairport (Viterra) across the Belworth estuary brings travelers to Marcott in Vhasia, making Thepyrgos a quiet but crucial link in the riverine trade between the fractured sun-kingdom and the imperial remnant. The city itself controls the Astroegro Straits—the narrow sea passage between the Dolmis and the Amaranthine—and maintains a few small colonies on the western coast of Hyaar, where olive oil and wine are exchanged for eastern silks and spices. Those colonies are run by exiled scholars and retired Chain-Lanterns, and they are said to be even more paranoid than the mother city.

Faction Timers (Thepyrgos)

The politics of Thepyrgos are a delicate balance between four powers: the Archon’s civil authority, the Synod’s religious law, the Commissariat’s witch-hunters, and the hidden war between the Witness and the Ninth.

• Archon’s Balance [6] — Tracks the Archon’s ability to keep the synod, guilds, and Commissariat in check.
  Advances when: the party exposes a Commissariat secret (+1), a Synod edict is defied (+1), or a faction gains too much influence (+1).
  At 4 segments: the Archon’s authority frays; all social rolls involving civic authority gain +1 DV.
  At 6 segments: the Archon loses control of one faction—either the Commissariat runs wild, the Synod calls for his deposition, or the Ninth’s Coterie operates openly. The party must choose which faction to support.

• Commissariat Pressure [4] — Tracks the Chain-Lanterns’ hunting intensity.
  Advances when: the party uses unsanctioned magic in the city, helps a gifted child escape, or defies a Commissary warrant (+1).
  At 4 segments: the Commissariat conducts a city-wide sweep. All PCs must test Spirit+Endurance (DV 4) or be detained for questioning. A detainee may be released for 1 Boon or a favor to the Commissariat.

• Ninth’s Progress [8] — Tracks the Ninth’s Coterie’s efforts to open the Astroegro Vaults.
  Advances when: the party opens a vault (+2), speaks a true name of an Astroegro ruin (+1), or accepts a boon from the Ninth (+1).
  At 4 segments: the Coterie finds a vault entrance. At 8 segments: they open a vault. The Unfinished Stair appears in the city. The party must decide: help them, stop them, or seal the vault themselves.

• Witness’s Vigil [6] — Tracks the Witness’s Archivists’ efforts to record and seal dangerous knowledge.
  Advances when: the party records a truth in the Synod’s archives (+1), seals a vault (+2), or refuses a boon from the Ninth (+1).
  At 4 segments: the Witness’s Archivists offer the party a boon (a free Synod Indulgence or Archive Hour). At 6 segments: they demand a favor—record a dangerous truth or face their scrutiny.

Faction Relationship Dial: Witness ↔︎ Ninth

Track the party’s perceived allegiance between the Witness (memory, record, preservation) and the Ninth (forgetting, erasure, revelation).

• Witness-leaning:

  • +1 Position on social rolls with archivists, Synod clerks, and the Matriarch

  • The Chain-Lanterns view you as potential informants (first interrogation starts at +1 Position)

  • The Ninth’s Coterie actively works against you (complications involving forgotten records or hidden stairs)

• Ninth-leaning:

  • +1 Effect when seeking hidden knowledge, forbidden texts, or vaults

  • The Commissariat views you as dangerous (first contact starts Desperate)

  • Archivists are wary of you; the Synod may call you to account

• Centering actions:

  • Record a truth in the Synod’s archives (move toward Witness)

  • Feed a memory to the Ninth’s Coterie (move toward Ninth)

  • Perform a ritual that acknowledges both (center the dial, clear 1 segment from Unfinished Stair)

Prominent NPCs of Thepyrgos

The Archon’s Key

The Archon wears a key around his neck. No one knows what it opens. The key is a stair.

• What it opens: The Ninth Vault—the deepest of the Astroegro vaults, sealed by the first Archon. It contains the original Astroegro orrery, a working model of the cosmos that still ticks.

• What happens if the party uses it:

  • The vault opens. The Ninth’s Coterie is immediately aware.

  • The Witness’s Archivists arrive within the hour.

  • The party must choose: destroy the vault’s contents (gain the Witness’s favor), use them (gain the Ninth’s favor), or seal it again (gain the Archon’s favor—and a permanent enemy in whichever faction they defied).

• How the party can learn this:

  • A dying Archivist whispers it (cost: 1 SB)

  • The Lighthouse-Patriarch shows them in a mirror (cost: 1 Fatigue)

  • The Ninth’s Coterie offers to trade the information (cost: 1 Obligation to the Ninth)

The Lighthouse-Patriarch’s Mirror

Once per session, a character who spends a scene in the Lighthouse-Patriarch’s presence may ask the GM one question about:

• A hidden door or stair in the city

• The location of an Astroegro vault entrance

• A weakness of the Chain-Lanterns or the Ninth’s Coterie

Cost: The mirrors show the asker a face they have wronged. Mark 1 Fatigue (guilt).

Limit: The Patriarch will not answer the same question twice. He does not need to speak—the mirrors show the answer. If the party asks a question the Patriarch cannot answer, the mirrors show a blank expanse of water.

Names of Thepyrgos

Inspired by the southern peninsulas and the Aegean coast: clear vowels, soft endings, and surnames that recall a stair, a tower, or a village. Lethai-thora names are longer, more flowing, often ending in -iel, -ael, -ir.

(Tower/Stair/Sea-wall)

Pilgrim’s Stair zig-zagging sea-cliff to wicket gate; Tower Quarter with family keeps stitched by ladders and bridges.

Spades — Places

2. Pilgrim’s Stair — Zig-zagging sea-cliff to wicket gate; ascent as devotion. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ ‘[RITUAL]‘ Every hundredth step has a bell. Pilgrims ring once for mercy, twice for memory. The ninth bell has no clapper.

3. Tower Quarter — Family keeps stitched by ladders and bridges; vertical neighborhoods. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The lowest rung of each ladder is painted red—a mark of the rope-guild’s claim. The rope-guild’s scroll is written in disappearing ink.

4. Chain-Barbican — Harbor gate; capstans ready to raise the boom at horn’s call. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The capstan pins are carved from the thighbones of executed smugglers. The bones still warm in your hand.

5. Blue Cistern — Under the forum; cool echo, strict tally; water as law. ‘[MAGIC]‘ ‘[PROOF]‘ The water tastes of copper and old prayers. Drink deep, and you may forget a formula—but the water will remember your face.

6. Ropeyard Terrace — Cranes walk cargo up slope by treadwheel; muscle and machinery. ‘[LABOR]‘ The treadwheel operators sing in eights. The ninth beat is always silent—that is when the Stair moves.

7. Storm-Wall Arcades — Wind shrieks through arched galleries; defense as architecture. ‘[WEATHER]‘ The wind carries voices from the last siege. Some say they’re warnings. Others say they’re the Ninth rehearsing.

8. Beacon Crown — Ring of watchtowers signaling along the Dolmis; eyes of the city. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The beacons burn juniper and saltpeter. Black smoke means fire; white smoke means hunters. Green smoke means the Stair is hungry.

9. Library of Keys — Archive vaults; shelves locked by rung and rite; knowledge as power. ‘[MAGIC]‘ ‘[SECRET]‘ The keys are graded by the import of what they lock. The ninth key opens nothing—and everything. It is kept in a box that has no lid.

10. Siege Court — Test ramp and scarred stones; war never far from peace. ‘[COMBAT]‘ The ramp’s stones are stained with lamp oil and regret. Practice charges end in the cistern—or the Unfinished Stair.

11. Ladder Monastery — Perched on a needle of rock; monks climb toward truth. ‘[RITUAL]‘ The monks never speak. They write commandments in chalk on the rungs. The ninth rung has no chalk—only a smear of ash.

12. Synod Hall — Gold-glass mosaics; judgment audible at a whisper’s distance. ‘[LAW]‘ The acoustics are enchanted. A lie told here echoes twice—once in the liar’s voice, once in truth’s. The Ninth’s lies echo only once.

13. Archon’s Citadel — Acropolis peak; mirror tiles glare like noon’s justice. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The mirrors were a gift from Kahfagia. They show not the sea, but the faces of those who bear the archive’s mark—and sometimes a stair that was not there before.

14. The Unfinished Stair — A hidden flight that appears only to those who have asked a question the Synod cannot answer. ‘[THRESHOLD]‘ ‘[MYSTERY]‘ The stairs have no end. Each step is a different year. At the top, the Ninth and the Witness are playing knucklebones with forgotten names.

(Archon/Synod/Guild)

Bell-runner child whose feet know every stair by heart; Master of Ropes with palms like oak, voice like a whistle.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Bell-Runner — Child whose feet know every stair by heart; speed as currency. ‘[STEALTH]‘ She ties a knot in her hair for each hunter she has outrun; her hair is a thicket. One knot is white—a hunter she could not outrun.

3. Master of Ropes — Palms like oak, voice like a whistle; guild head of lifters. ‘[LABOR]‘ He lost two fingers to a frayed line. He keeps them in a jar as a warning. The jar is on the ninth shelf.

4. Icon-Smith — Portable shrine, temper about pigment; faith in detail. ‘[CRAFT]‘ His pigments are ground from stolen icons. He calls it recycling the divine. The Ninth calls it preparation.

5. Wall Strategos — Drills levies on the test ramp; defense as daily ritual. ‘[COMBAT]‘ She lost a son to a Linn raid. She trains orphans now—and keeps a list. The list has nine names.

6. Chain-Keeper — Harbor boom; hates “surprises” at dusk; order as obsession. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ His bell never rings the same note twice. He says the tide changes its mind. The Ninth changes its tone.

7. Oath-Examiner — Weighs words like iron; notary of truth and consequence. ‘[LAW]‘ She carries a scale with one pan empty. The empty pan is for lies. When the Ninth speaks, both pans tip.

8. Archive Sister (Lethai-thora) — Key to the “forbidden rung”; keeper of dangerous knowledge. ‘[SECRET]‘ Her left eye is milk-white—a cost for reading a cursed shelf. The shelf was a stair in a past life.

9. Salt-Fish Syndic — Warehouse queen of the quays; profit in preservation. ‘[TRADE]‘ Her salt is cut with ground bone meal. The fish stay fresh—and quiet. The bones were from a stair.

10. Nomophylax — Law-scholar whose citations close mouths; precedent as weapon. ‘[LAW]‘ He has never lost a case. His opponents have a habit of vanishing. The Unfinished Stair has a new step.

11. Palikar Captain — Tower guards; ladder-quick and letter-shy; strength in motion. ‘[COMBAT]‘ His shield is painted with a ladder—each rung a battle he survived. The ninth rung is blank.

12. Matriarch of the Ladder — Synod primate; calm as stone, wisdom in height. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ She speaks once a session. When she does, the bells listen. She has never spoken the ninth word.

13. The Archon — Elected, entrenched, counting bells; ruler of the ascent. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ He wears a key around his neck. No one knows what it opens. The key is a stair.

14. Lighthouse-Patriarch — Reclusive seer; said to steer beacons in storms. ‘[MYSTERY]‘ He has no eyes—only mirrors where his eyes should be. In the mirrors you see the Unfinished Stair.

(Edict/Quake/Chain)

Tremor with hairline cracks racing down a stair; crowds freeze; iconoclast riot in the Tower Quarter.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Tremor — Hairline cracks race down a stair; crowds freeze, dust speaks. ‘[DISASTER]‘ The dust spells names. Yours appears if you’ve broken a stair-right—or if the Ninth is curious.

3. Iconoclast Riot — In the Tower Quarter; pigments and teeth fly through the air. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The riot started over a missing icon’s eye. The eye was a hunter’s informer. The icon was a stair.

4. Chain Jam — At the barbican; capstan pins shear at the worst moment. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The pins were filed by a saboteur. The chain will hold—or not. The Ninth is keeping score.

5. Black Northerly — Pins cranes; cargo hangs between tiers, prayers below. ‘[WEATHER]‘ The wind smells of iron and ice. Someone is using weather magic. The Witness disapproves.

6. Cistern Taint — Sour water; inspectors padlock spouts, thirst rises. ‘[PROOF]‘ The taint is sweet—too sweet. Someone poisoned the cistern to flush out a talent. The talent is a stair.

7. Synod Summons — A chant or badge is suddenly proscribed; law shifts like wind. ‘[LAW]‘ The summons is written on a bell-clapper. Read it, and you are a witness. The Ninth writes the margin.

8. Rope Guild Interdict — No lifts until a grievance is heard; the city stops climbing. ‘[LABOR]‘ The guild’s grievance is a single name. The name is yours. The name is also a stair.

9. Siege Drill Panic — Practice horns mistaken for real; chaos in the ranks. ‘[FEAR]‘ The horns were blown by a child who didn’t know the difference. Or did they? The child is a step.

10. Smuggler’s Ladder — Discovered; the whole stair sealed, routes rerouted. ‘[STEALTH]‘ ‘[PROOF]‘ The ladder was built by a Hyro family. Now they are all “guests” of the Commissariat. Their house is a stair.

11. Ropeyard Fire — Sparks leap uphill faster than boots; smoke chokes the ascent. ‘[DISASTER]‘ The fire was set to cover a kidnapping. The victim’s name is on the proscription list. The board is a stair.

12. Exarch’s Claim — “Thepyrgos under my protection”; arrests follow the papers. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The Exarch is a puppet of the Chain-Lanterns. His seal is a bell without a clapper. The Ninth has the clapper.

13. General Watch — All towers manned; levies seize carts “for the walls.” ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The levies are looking for one thing: children who flinch at candle-smoke. The children are stairs.

14. The Unfinished Stair Awakens — A hidden flight appears in the middle of a crowded tier. The Ninth’s attention falls. ‘[THRESHOLD]‘ ‘[BOSS]‘ The stairs have no end. The Witness is writing. The Ninth is counting. You are already on the third step.

(Key/Rite/Paper)

Stair token passes a barricaded stair without delay; harbor pass lowers the boom for your vessel on command.

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Stair Token — Pass a barricaded stair without delay (once); height as right. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The token is a bronze step. It fits into a missing rung. The missing rung is a secret.

3. Harbor Pass — Boom lowers for your vessel on command; sea as ally. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The pass is a note written on a fish scale. The gate-keeper will not ask why. The fish was a witness.

4. Cistern Draw-Right — A named ward during scarcity; water as favor. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The right is a clay cup. Break it to claim your share. The cup was a stair.

5. Crane Allotment — One guaranteed lift on the Ropeyard Terrace; height as service. ‘[LABOR]‘ The allotment is a knotted rope. Cut a knot for each use. The ninth knot is a lie.

6. Icon License — Display a disputed image without penalty; faith as leverage. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The license is stamped with the Archon’s ring. The ring is warm—the Archon is watching. The ring is a stair.

7. Archive Hour — Library of Keys; one shelf opened to you; knowledge as power. ‘[SECRET]‘ The shelf is sealed with a riddle. Solve it, or the key will break. The riddle is about the ninth step.

8. Bellmark — Lawful ring at a fog-wick summons the watchers; law travels on sound. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The bellmark is a brand on your palm. Show it, and the watch bleeds for you—once. The blood is a witness.

9. Watchlight Code — Today’s beacon and mirror signals; navigation as paper. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The code is written in lemon juice. Heat it to read, then hide it again. The heat is a confession.

10. Synod Indulgence — One proscribed chant or rite permitted (for you). ‘[MAGIC]‘ The indulgence is a bell-note held in a jar. Break the jar to release it. The bell-note is a name.

11. Pronoia Grant — Temporary stewardship of a terrace hamlet; land as standing. ‘[TRADE]‘ The grant is a wooden token. Present it to the village elder—if she is still alive. The elder is a stair.

12. Synod Audience — Private with the Matriarch and clerks; whispers become policy. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The audience is held in a fog hollow. What is spoken there is never written. The fog is a witness.

13. Archon’s Writ — Palikars escort you between towers; authority as escort. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The writ is a bell-rope. Tie it to your belt, and the guards will know your voice. The rope was a stair.

14. Golden Key — Open or seal any city gate once; access as power. ‘[MAGIC]‘ The key is a finger bone. The lock is a gauntleted fist. It will work—once. The fist is the Ninth’s.

Quick use notes

• Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).

• Diamonds are codified outcomes (keys/rites/papers) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo height and sound motifs—bells that carry, wind that remembers, stairs that echo with purpose.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Bell-Law: Bells are law made sound. Once per session, a Bellmark or tower bell summons the watch, a levy, or a decree. False rings stain a reputation; the Synod may inquire. The ninth ring is never false—it is always the Ninth.

• Stair-Rights: Every stair is claimed, chartered, or under review. A token bypasses barricades and checkpoints; climbing the wrong stair without leave sparks a riot or a duel. The Unfinished Stair has no owner—only one who bears its mark.

• The Unfinished Stair Timer [8]: Tracks the party’s entanglement with the hidden architecture of Thepyrgos.

  • 0-2: The stairs are hidden. The party has not yet attracted the Ninth’s attention.

  • 3-4: The stairs begin to appear. At night, the party sees an extra step where none should be. The Ninth’s Coterie begins to take notice.

  • 5-6: The stairs appear in daylight. A character who walks an Unfinished Stair may ask one question of the Ninth—but the Ninth will ask one in return. The party is marked. The Chain-Lanterns receive visions of their faces.

  • 7-8: A vault entrance opens. The Ninth’s Coterie is already there. The party must choose: enter the vault, seal it, or destroy it. The Unfinished Stair is now visible to all.

  Tick the timer when you use a hidden stair, ask a question the Synod cannot answer, or speak a true name of an Astroegro ruin. Reduce the timer by feeding a memory to the Ninth’s Coterie (lose a fact, a skill point, or a Bond) or by recording a truth in the Synod’s archives (gain the Witness’s Annotation).

• The Offering at the Crossroads (Hedge Gift): Once per session, a Hyro character (or someone who has learned their customs) may leave a substitute at a crossroads—a written name, a lock of hair, a childhood memory. For the next scene, they are invisible to the Chain-Lanterns (cannot be tracked or identified by candle-smoke). The substitute becomes an Unfinished Proof that the GM may call in later (the Hollow accepted it; the Hollow will ask for more).

• The Candle-Smoke Test (GM Tool): When the Chain-Lanterns test a village, the GM rolls 1d6. On a 1-2, they find a gifted child (the party must intervene or witness a tragedy). On a 3-4, they find a substitute (a false name, a hidden memory) and leave. On a 5-6, the village has already paid in silence—no raid occurs. The party can influence the roll by offering their own substitute (use a Boon to shift the result by 1).

• The Astroegro Singing (Player Tool): A Hyro character can hum a fragment of an old empire song. The song has no words—only pressure. When hummed at a ruin, it may open a hidden door. When hummed at a Chain-Lantern, it may cause their lantern to flicker. Each use advances the Unfinished Stair timer by 1 (the past is waking).

  • Consequences (d6): Roll each time the song is used.

  • 1: The song attracts a Chain-Lantern patrol. They arrive in 1d4 scenes.

  • 2: A stone cracks nearby. A hidden door opens—or closes.

  • 3: A ghost of an Astroegro archivist appears. It will not speak, but it will point.

  • 4: The singer forgets the song. They cannot use it again until they learn a new fragment.

  • 5: The Hollow responds. The singer gains the Condition Heard by the Hollow (the GM may spend 1 SB to have a Oath-Keeper appear).

  • 6: The song is heard by the Ninth’s Coterie. They will offer a bargain within the day.

• Lethai-thora Archivists: The high elf refugees have integrated into the city’s scholarly elite. They are the keepers of the deepest archives and the most secret keys. A character with Lethai-thora heritage (or who earns their trust) may gain access to the Archivists’ Mark—a brass key that opens one restricted door in the Library of Keys per session. However, the Archivists are not monolithic; some serve the Witness, others the Ninth. Choosing a side may alienate the other faction.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Unwritten Citation — The Witness. A precedent that exists only in the margin.

  • The Bell-Founder — Mykkiel. The law that rings true, even when it hurts.

  • The Abyssal Pressure — Khemesh. The pressure beneath the city; the pressure that the deep remembers.

  • The Silent Stair — The Ninth. The step that is never counted, the threshold that opens only once.

The Astroegro Vaults — Mini-Generators

Beneath the city, nine vaults. The Synod knows of three and has sealed them with Witness-branded wax. The Ninth’s Coterie has found a fourth. The other five are still buried, waiting for the right key—a true name, a specific death, a memory that has never been spoken.

Vault Contents (d6)

When the party opens a vault (or finds a way in), roll to determine what lies within.

1. The Echo Forge — A chamber of black glass gears that still turn. The forge produces a single perfect bell every nine years. The current bell is half-formed and rings at a frequency that makes teeth ache. Weapon: A bell that, when rung, forces all who hear it to speak one true name (Resolve DV 4 to resist). Guardian: A ghost-smith who does not attack—it asks you to complete the bell. Cost: A year of your life to finish the forging.

2. The Unwritten Archive — Shelves of blank stone tablets. The tablets are not blank—they are written in a script that only the dead can read. A ghost-archivist sits at a desk, writing the same number over and over. Weapon: A quill that writes in disappearing ink; the words become true for one hour, then vanish. Guardian: The archivist’s ghost will answer one question about the vault’s history, but will then ask for a number you have never written. Cost: You must forget how to read for one day.

3. The Glass Orrery — A working model of the Astroegro cosmos, its gears carved from abyssal glass. It still ticks. The ticking changes when you lie. Weapon: A lens that shows the death of anyone you name—but only once per person. Guardian: A pressure-spirit that coils around the orrery; it will let you take the lens if you can answer its riddle. Cost: A dream of drowning (you will dream of the sea every night until you return).

4. The Bone Gallery — A corridor lined with the remains of Astroegro archivists. Each skeleton wears a different style of bell-maker’s apron. The newest apron is still damp. Weapon: A finger bone that, when pointed at a door, opens it—once. Guardian: The archivist whose bone you take will ask for a story about a door you should not have opened. Cost: The archivist’s ghost follows you until you close a door you left open.

5. The Counting Chamber — A room where the walls are covered in tally marks—eight scratches, a gap, eight scratches. The marks are not in sequence. A wright’s skeleton still holds a hammer. Weapon: A hammer that can drive a copper nail into any surface, sealing a threshold for one scene. Guardian: The wright will not attack—it will only count. If you interrupt the count, it becomes hostile. Cost: You must leave a tally of your own—a memory, a name, a debt—on the wall.

6. The Sealed Heart — A chamber of black glass and fossilized bone, where the heat of the earth meets the cold of the void. Something coils in the dark—a child of Nidhoggr, a fragment of the Deep Drake’s attention. Weapon: A scale that, when touched, grants +2 dice to resist fear for one scene—but the scale grows warm each time. Guardian: The pressure that thinks. It does not attack; it invites you to stay. Cost: A memory of sunlight. You will forget what warmth feels like for one day.

Vault Guardian Quirks (d6)

In addition to their primary nature, each vault’s guardian has a quirk that defines how they can be negotiated with.

1. Counting Obsession: The guardian will not attack unless you interrupt its count. It counts in eights. If you join the count correctly, it will give you a boon. If you miscount, it takes a memory.

2. The Witness’s Seal: The guardian is bound by a Witness-branded wax seal. If you present a truth the Seal cannot refute, the guardian must let you pass. The truth must be witnessed by another living soul.

3. Ninth’s Silence: The guardian only speaks in gaps—silences between words, spaces between steps. If you can answer a question in the silence, it will let you pass. If you speak over the silence, it attacks.

4. Pressure Echo: The guardian is a pressure-spirit; it only attacks when you are afraid. If you can pass a Spirit + Endurance test (DV 4) and show no fear, it will let you pass. On a failure, it manifests and attacks (Cap 3).

5. Archivist’s Grief: The guardian is the ghost of an archivist who failed to save a vault. It will let you pass if you can prove you have failed something important—a promise, a mission, a person. It will judge your failure. If it deems it worthy, you pass.

6. The Hollow’s Claim: The guardian is Hollow-touched. It does not attack; it offers a bargain: one memory from each intruder, and the vault opens. Refusal means it takes a name instead.

Vault Costs (d6)

Every vault demands a cost to open or to take its treasures.

1. Memory of Salt Water: You must forget a memory of the sea—a voyage, a ship, a drowning. You will remember that you forgot, but not what it was.

2. Dream of Drowning: You will dream of drowning every night until you return to the vault. Each morning, mark 1 Fatigue.

3. Confession of Hubris: You must speak aloud a time you were wrong and knew it, but refused to admit it. The confession must be witnessed.

4. A True Name: You must give the vault a true name—yours, or someone else’s. The name will be added to the vault’s records.

5. A Year of Life: You will age one year instantly. Gain 1 permanent Condition (e.g., gray hair, a limp, a tremor).

6. A Bond Broken: You must sever a Bond—a relationship, a promise, a debt. The loss is permanent, though the wound may heal.

The Province — Mini-Generators

Beyond the city walls, the hinterlands of Thepyrgos are a haunted countryside of limestone hills, olive groves, and the Hyro people who still remember the Astroegro Empire. The Chain-Lanterns patrol the villages, and the Ninth’s Coterie moves through the ruins.

Village Situation (d6)

When the party enters a Hyro village, roll to determine its current state.

1. Quieted Village: The Chain-Lanterns came last week. The gifted children are gone. The village is silent, and the elders will not speak to outsiders. A single child hides in the root cellar—too old to be taken, too young to understand why.

2. Candle-Smoke Test Tomorrow: The hunters are coming at dawn. The village is in a panic. One family has a child who flinched at the last test. They need a substitute—a lock of hair, a false name, a memory to offer at the crossroads.

3. The Ninth’s Coterie Visits: A gray-robed figure has been seen in the village. They offer protection from the hunters in exchange for stories—true names, forgotten memories, fragments of the Astroegro past. The village is divided: some trust them, others fear them.

4. The Hollow’s Offering: A child was born last night with eyes the color of the sea. The elders say the Hollow has accepted a substitute—a memory of the Astroegro fall. The child will never have talent. The village is grateful, but the child’s mother is weeping.

5. Ruin Singing: The stones outside the village have started humming at night. A Hyro elder believes an Astroegro vault is surfacing—the pressure below is rising. She needs help to listen, to count the stones, to find the door before the hunters hear the song.

6. The Bear Cult: A group of villagers has taken to the hills, wearing cured skins and speaking in growls. They claim the only way to escape the hunters is to become the hunter. They are hunting Chain-Lantern patrols—and they are winning. The Archon has declared them outlaws, but the villagers leave offerings at their shrines.

Hyro Encounter (d6)

When meeting a Hyro villager, traveler, or hermit, roll for their disposition and need.

1. Grieving Elder: Their child was taken in the last sweep. They will help the party if the party helps them find the child. They know of a hidden stair that leads to the Beacon Crown’s secret basement.

2. Stone-Listener: A hermit who hears the pressure below. They can identify a thin place, a vault entrance, or a route that the hunters do not watch. They demand a story about a dream in return.

3. Substitute Keeper: This villager sells false names and stolen memories to families who need to protect their children. They can provide a substitute for a candle-smoke test—but the Hollow will remember the debt.

4. Chain-Lantern Informant: A villager who reports gifted children to the hunters in exchange for protection. They are despised by the village but have useful information about the hunters’ schedules. They are also deeply ashamed.

5. Ruin Seeker: A young Hyro who believes the Astroegro vaults contain the key to defeating the hunters. They are reckless, know a few fragments of the old songs, and will follow the party into any ruin.

6. Hollow-Touched: A villager who has given too many substitutes to the Hollow. They have begun to forget their own name. They speak in riddles and can see the Hollow’s attention on others. They are useful, but dangerous to be around.

Hunter Encounter (d6)

When the Chain-Lanterns or other Commissariat forces appear, roll for their objective and mood.

1. Routine Sweep: The hunters are testing children with candle-smoke. They are bored, efficient, and will accept a bribe (1 Boon or 1 Supply) to skip a house. On a Miss, they notice the party’s arcane talent.

2. Targeted Raid: The hunters have a warrant for a specific child. They will not be bribed. They will search every house. The party must hide the child, substitute a false name, or fight.

3. Inquisitorial Audit: A Chain-Lantern Captain is auditing the local Commissary. They are looking for corruption, not talent. They may accept information about a corrupt officer in exchange for ignoring a minor talent.

4. Ninth Pursuit: The hunters are not hunting talent—they are hunting the Ninth’s Coterie. A gray-robed figure has been seen in the village, and the Chain-Lanterns want to question them. They will detain anyone who looks suspicious.

5. Desperate Hunt: The hunters have lost a prisoner—a gifted child who escaped. They are searching the village house by house. The child is hiding in a root cellar, and the hunters are getting closer.

6. Pardon Offer: The Exarch has offered a pardon to any family that surrenders their gifted child voluntarily. The village is divided—some families are considering it. The party may need to intervene.

Hyro Discovery (d6)

When exploring a ruin, a village, or the hills, roll for something the Hyro have hidden or preserved.

1. Fragment of the Old Song: A piece of the Astroegro empire’s music. Humming it can open one hidden door or cause a Chain-Lantern’s lantern to flicker. One use only.

2. Substitute Cache: A hidden stash of false names, locks of hair, and written memories. Enough substitutes for three candle-smoke tests. Using them will not anger the Hollow—this time.

3. Kurgan Offering: A stone marked with a Hyro offering. If you leave a memory here, the Hollow will accept it as a substitute for one child. The memory must be true and painful.

4. Warden’s Log: A record of Chain-Lantern patrols, including schedules, informants, and the names of children taken. Valuable to the resistance—and dangerous to carry.

5. Sealed Door: A hidden door in a hillside, marked with an Astroegro seal. Opening it requires a true name—or a memory of the empire. The Hyro have kept it sealed for generations.

6. The Singing Stones: A circle of stones that hum at dusk. They are an Anchor site—a thin place where the pressure below is close. The Hyro leave offerings here. A character who offers a memory may ask one question of the Hollow.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Astroegro Remnant (Khemesh): Deep beneath the Beacon Crown, a sealed chamber contains a working Astroegro orrery. Its gears are carved from abyssal glass, and it still ticks. Those who listen too long hear a voice whispering the true names of drowned emperors. The Chain-Lanterns have posted a perpetual guard; they say the orrery is a beacon for something that should not surface.

• Saint Methodia of the Silent Stair (The Witness): A legendary archivist who climbed the Ninth Stair of the Library of Keys and never came down. Her ghost is said to appear to those who speak a truth the Synod has buried, offering a single citation that can overturn any edict. The cost is a secret of equal measure, and the ghost never forgets.

• The Cog-Cults of the Clockwork Monad: Underground fraternities of gear-smiths and logicians who believe the Astroegro Empire fell because its geometry was imperfect. They meet in the basements of the Ropeyard Terrace, trying to reconstruct the lost orrery. The Chain-Lanterns tolerate them because their calculations sometimes predict talent blooms. Heretics from the Everflame call them timer-worshippers; the Cog-Cults call themselves the True Iterators.

• The Daughters of the Cord (The Bitter Root): A hospice in the lower tiers is run by gray-robed women who ask no payment, but they take names. They are tolerated because they treat the poor for free, but the Commissariat suspects they also hide gifted children. A renegade Sister hides among the bell-runners, trying to unbind her Hollowed from the Chain-Lanterns’ record.

• The Savage Heart (Red Maw): In the highland villages west of the city, a bear cult has arisen. They believe the only way to escape the Commissariat’s hunts is to become the hunter. They wear cured skins and speak in growls, and they have begun hunting Chain-Lantern patrols. The Archon has declared them outlaws, but the villagers leave offerings of raw meat at their shrines.

• Zakov’s Astroegro Foundation: The pirate city of Zakov is built on top of a sunken Astroegro port. Smugglers occasionally pull up black glass artifacts from the deep channels, which find their way to Thepyrgos’ black market. The Ninth’s Coterie offers high standing for such relics; the Witness’s archivists try to secure them first.

• The Ninth: In any Thepyrgos scene, the ninth bell rung in an hour opens a threshold. The wise stop at eight and cover their ears. Those who ring the ninth are said to see a pale figure standing on the Beacon Crown’s mirror tiles—waiting to receive a name.

Thepyrgos Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Stair: Toss a crust onto a rung before climbing. Ignore the first Tremor penalty. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Knot the Rope: Tie a single knot in a crane line. Cancel Rope Guild Interdict or take –1 die on your next lift (your choice). ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Name to the Smoke: Whisper a hunter’s name into the Beacon Crown’s fire. Gain +1 Effect when evading the Chain-Lanterns this scene, but gain the Synod’s Notice. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Offer the Substitute: Leave a written false name at a crossroads. The next Candle-Smoke Test against you automatically fails—but the Hollow gains an Unfinished Proof on you. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from tower guards or guild masters.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby bell-runners or civic patrols.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for trackers or archive keepers.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable ascent.

• Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Wall Strategos or guild head becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to quake damage or stair closure.

• Foe Appears: A rival faction or civic enforcer arrives on scene.

• Gear Trouble: A piece of equipment becomes Compromised/Neglected.

• Lock/Barrier: A simple obstacle now requires a test to overcome.

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Additional palikars, guild enforcers, synod guards, or crown militia arrive.

• Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—taboo broken/green host rides/feud declared/crown warrant issued.

• Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.

• Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.

Major Turns (4+ SB)

• Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.

• Authority Arrival: King, Matron, Lady Beneath, or Viterran Governor intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—fog rises/bells ring/causeway shifts/crown forces arrive.

• Patron Omen: Divine/arcane forces take notice—omen appears/blessing lost/curse manifests.

• Narrative Pivot: The story takes an unexpected turn that reframes objectives.

Region-Specific SB Options

• Thepyrgos (Height & Law): Stairs shift position, bells ring with the wrong tone, legal papers rewrite themselves.

• Thepyrgos (Synod Power): Edicts change mid-speech, citations appear in the air, wisdom comes unbidden.

• Thepyrgos (Vertical City): Ropes fray without warning, cranes swing cargo unexpectedly, tower windows show wrong views.

• Thepyrgos (The Unfinished Stair): A hidden stair appears behind the party. The Ninth is counting. The Witness is writing. The stairs have no end.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Stealth): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Fog Bank.

• Cut the Stair (Presence + Lore): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a stair token is in your possession, +1 die.

• Weather the Quake (Body + Athletics): On a hit in Tremor, you pick who keeps their footing; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Bell & Inquisition)

• The Bell-Exarch (Nine Bans) — Phases: Candle-Smoke Sweep → Orchestrated Silence → Synod Coup. Cracks: ring a forgotten bell, expose a false bounty, survive a night in the Beacon Crown.

• The Astroegro Engine (Pressure from Below) — Phases: Gears Turn → Whispers Become Names → Seiche. Cracks: abyssal glass shard, survivor testimony, the Lighthouse-Patriarch’s mirror turning clear.

• The Ninth’s Advocate (Living Stair) — Phases: Count → Omit → Forget. Cracks: speak a true name that the Ninth does not know, offer a memory the Witness has not recorded, climb the Unfinished Stair and refuse to answer the Ninth’s question.

The Magic Colleges (University Extensions)

• College of Ladders & Lines — geomancy, architecture, constraint; stairs as sigils, capstans as circles.

• College of Bells & Beacons — acoustics, omen-fire, signal calculus; law made audible, augury made measurable.

• College of Waters & Weights — alchemy, cistern rites, dyes; solutions, precipitates, and lawful flow.

• College of Names & Oaths — nomikon theurgy; citations that bind, clauses that compel.

• College of Mirrors & Haze — illusion, scrutiny; seeing, being seen, un-being seen.

• College of Quiet — ethics of death, memory rites; permitted remembrances—anything more is heresy.

The Witch-Hunter Province (Commissariat Extensions)

Thepyrgos-the-Province funds Witch-Hunter Commissariats—ministries with notices posted per ward. Citations hang on stair-landings; bells announce hunts lawful and hunts less so. The Chain-Lantern order is the most feared, but others compete for quotas.

Hunter Hearts (faces of the persecution)

• Commissary-Exarch — Writs in triplicate; quotas in private.

• Index-Reader — Calibrates children by the bell; “verification” by smoke.

• Pardoner-Chaplain — Sells absolution to informers; keeps a careful record.

• Stair-Runner Informant — Knows which doors open to the right knock.

• Chain-Lantern Captain — Commands the most feared order; his lantern reveals truth through flesh.

Hunter Clubs (pressures and sweeps)

• Notice Posting — New warrant on “untutored talent”; crowds turn into nets.

• Candle-Smoke Test — Lines at the Blue Cistern; smoke curls toward the Gifted.

• Commissary Sweep — Ladders chained; a whole tier searched under horn.

• Quieted Child — An “accident” near the Exam Stair; evidence goes missing.

• Chain-Lantern Raid — Dawn assault on a hamlet; children taken before the rooster crows.

Hunter Diamonds (leverage and reprieve)

• Witness Pardon — Informer absolved and commended; cancels one legal fallout once.

• Archon’s Clemency — Suspends a bounty timer for one named; bell-marked and public.

• Hidden Stair Token — Through a maintenance run unseen; good for one group escape.

Detection & Denial (Fast Procedures)

Scry & Deny (evading the tests)

1. Mask the Trace: dye, salt, bell-oil; pick one (each grants +1 die to one approach).

2. Pick the Test: Smoke, Sound, Mirror. State how you spoof it (alchemical veil, bell overtones, angle games).

3. On a hit: cancel a Candle-Smoke Test or Proctors’ Gate tag for this scene. Consequence: start Bell Mark [2] or Rector’s Notice [2].

Examination Economy (quick table, GM picks or 1d6)

1. Whisperer (faint talent): 1 notation; informers abundant.

2. Spark-Hand (cantrip): 2 notations; “rehabilitation” promised.

3. Mirror-Bent (glamour): 3 notations; seized at once.

4. Bell-Singer (acoustic): 4 notations; Synod claims jurisdiction.

5. Oath-Breaker (binding): 5 notations; Exarch insists on custody.

6. Quiet-Worker (death-ethic): 6 notations; College of Quiet petitions for trial.

Scenario Starters (Plug-and-Play)

The Bright Child on the Exam Stair

Hook: A Bell-Runner begs you to get a latent child to campus before the dawn sweep. Complications: Candle-Smoke Test, Commissary Sweep, a jealous Street Thaum. Relief: Trade a Latency Seal for testimony; or ring a lawful Bellmark to create a corridor—accept Censure Murmurs [2].

The Black Index of Accusations

Hook: The College of Quiet wants proof that a Commissary inflates rolls to fill quotas. Complications: Synod Summons, Smuggler’s Ladder, Chain Jam. Relief: Publish via a Nomikon colloquy (gain Synod Indulgence); or submit it to the Archon (gain Archon’s Clemency but start Faculty Feud [4]).

The Golden Key and the Silent Stair

Hook: A dying Archivist gives you a Golden Key. “It opens the stair the hunters fear.” Truth: The stair leads to the Beacon Crown’s secret basement—a prison for children who passed the smoke test. Relief: Free the children and expose the Commissariat (gain Archon’s Clemency for the whole party, but start Exarch’s Claim at full); or seal the stair forever (gain Golden Key to use elsewhere, but the children are lost to memory).

The Ninth Vault

Hook: A fragment of an Astroegro weapon has been unearthed in a hill village. The Ninth’s Coterie and the Synod both want it. The village elder offers it to the party—if they can offer a substitute that satisfies the Hollow. Truth: The weapon is a bell that rings the true name of anyone you name. Its guardian is the ghost of the Astroegro archivist who sealed it. The ghost will not speak to anyone who has not climbed the Unfinished Stair. Relief: Climb the stair, speak the archivist’s true name, and take the bell—but the stair adds a segment to the Unfinished Stair Timer . Or destroy the bell with a memory of the Astroegro’s fall (lose a cherished memory permanently). Or give the bell to the Synod (gain a Synod Indulgence) or to the Ninth’s Coterie (gain the Ninth’s Annotation).

In Thepyrgos, power flows through elevation, education, and the precise application of law—but also through the hidden architecture of the Unfinished Stair. The Archon maintains authority through a complex web of guilds, synods, and civic institutions, but the real power lies with whoever can climb the stairs that should not exist. Social mobility is literally upward mobility, with stair-rights, bellmarks, and archive access serving as both currency and status symbols. But the highest status belongs to those who have seen the top of the Unfinished Stair—and remembered how to return.

Power flows through three overlapping hierarchies:

1. Height: The higher you climb, the more authority you hold. The Archon lives at the peak. The poor live in the lower tiers. Every stair is a status symbol.

2. Knowledge: The Library of Keys holds the city’s memory. Those who control the archives control the past—and the future.

3. The Unfinished: The stairs that should not exist. Those who can climb them, who can ask the questions the Synod cannot answer, hold power beyond law.

Rewards are:

• Keys (literal and metaphorical)

• Stair-rights (permission to climb)

• Bellmarks (authority made audible)

• Archive access (knowledge as leverage)

• A single climb of the Unfinished Stair (a question answered, a truth revealed, a vault opened)

Costs are:

• Memory (forgotten facts, lost names)

• Obligation to a faction (the Witness, the Ninth, the Synod, or the Commissariat)

• Permanent marks (scars, brands, missing steps)

The Lethai-thora, as the city’s most respected archivists, hold a special kind of power: they know which shelves are watched, which keys are false, and which doors lead to the Ninth’s vaults. Some whisper that the Archon is secretly a Lethai-thora puppet; others say the real ruler is the ghost of an Astroegro emperor, still counting stairs in the deep.

For the GM: Patronage in Thepyrgos revolves around access—to towers, to knowledge, to the right to climb, and to the hidden stairs. Rewards often take the form of keys, passes, or legal exemptions that can be leveraged into greater influence. To emphasize the metaphysical war:

• Tie rewards to visible symbols (tokens, keys, papers) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided.

• Let rival guilds and the two Patrons (Witness and Ninth) issue conflicting rights, forcing players to choose whose favor matters more, and whose curse is worse.

• Use the synods, towers, and staircases as arenas for social contests, where knowledge of law and custom determines success—but where the Ninth’s silence and the Witness’s memory can tip the scales.

• Introduce the Unfinished Stair timer as a campaign tension; every time the party uses a hidden stair, they advance the timer and bring the Ninth’s attention closer.

In Thepyrgos, your ascent is your standing, and your standing determines whether you rise or fall—or whether you are simply forgotten.