The Southern Realms (Akilan)

“The granary does not forgive a short measure. One miscounted bushel can unmake a house, and a house that goes hungry remembers exactly which weigh-house did it to them. I am not here to be liked. I am here to be right. Even so — even my ink runs when the monsoon comes early.” — Dusana of the Raven Road, at the weigh-house of Mbaro

Oshiira

The Grain Covenant.

A short measure can unmake a house. I am not here to be liked.

I am a Grain Inspector. My stamp leaves a mark that shows under moonlight, and I have never yet had to explain one twice.

Oshiira is hundreds of tribes and city-states that agreed, in writing and a long time ago, that nobody inside the agreement would starve. That is the Covenant. Contribute in the fat years; be carried in the thin ones. It has held four centuries. I have stood in an Ecktorian counting-house and been asked, slowly, whether we have writing.

Mbaro is canals, weigh-houses, and the Granary Tower. Our millet fills northern holds at prices set here, which was fought for twice and paid for the second time in ships. The Vermilion Corps weighs loyalty as well as grain, and the Narrow Captains provoke the Admiralty now and again to remind Kahfagia who actually holds the straits.

And the Widow has not been seen in seven years. Understand the argument before you join it: the office has no heirs. It never has. A Widow is chosen out of the canal-mothers, marries the granaries, and holds for life. So the question in the weigh-houses is not whose daughter sits next. It is whether the Corps has been choosing in her name, and whether we still have the standing to tell them no. Four houses have answers. All four are argued out loud, by name, in public, by people who expect to be quoted and are.

Name the Widow before you raise the succession. Get that order wrong in front of me and you have told me what you think of us.

— Grain Inspector Adesuwa of the Ninth Weigh-House, who has refused a Vermilion warrant twice and expects to again

What do people eat for breakfast? Millet porridge and dried fish, and an argument about the fish. The millet is flood-plain grown and does not vary; the fish comes off whichever canal-barge made Mbaro that week, and households have strong and inherited opinions about the barges.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To handle a balance. A child gets a scale and one grain of millet, and by five can tell northern Sahel from southern riverland by weight alone. It is a party trick, mostly. What it teaches is that the measure is knowable, which is the whole basis of trusting anybody with your harvest.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their hands. Ink on the fingers means contracts signed; none at all means a person who has never been trusted with one, or has been trusted with the sort that go unwritten. Both are worth knowing before you sit down.

What is the most common crime? Short-weighting, and the elaborate professional culture that has grown up around catching it. The Corps audits the auditors, and this is not corruption — it is the design. Four centuries of people watching each other weigh things is why the Covenant still works.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? That the decrees coming out of the Granary Tower have been in the Corps’ phrasing for some years now. Everyone knows. Everyone also knows that a vacancy declared in a hurry is a vacancy the Corps fills, so nobody has yet been willing to be the one who says it in the open.

Where do people go when they die? Home to their district, under their own granary floor, so that the house they fed keeps standing on them. Mbaro is not sentimental about this and will not ship a body north for any price; foreign factors have offered, and the offers are still repeated as a joke.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You bring the correction yourself, to the weigh-house you wronged, and you stand there while it is entered and witnessed. The stamp is not the apology. Being seen to stand for it is.

What is the most important festival? The Reckoning, in autumn, when the year’s shortfalls are read out in the great square. It is not a shaming. Districts that came up short are named alongside the districts that will cover them, and the covering is read in the same breath and the same voice. That pairing is the point of the whole institution, and every Widow in living memory has insisted on reading it herself.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? That one of the four houses has a canal-mother’s testament, properly witnessed, naming the Corps’ authority void from the seventh year onward. It is genuine. It has been genuine for two years. The house holding it has not produced it, because producing it means governing afterward, and they are not yet sure they can.

Ashaan

The Veiled Throne.

The Veil is not a choice. It is survival. You will show your eyes and nothing more. Speak in thirds—offer two options and a hidden third. The ninth word is always a knife.

I am a Breath-less Agent. They say Ikasha sleeps. I say she is patient. The Sisters have ruled for generations; they believe the Veil is eternal. But the Veil is silk. Silk frays. And I am learning to bite through—one whisper at a time.

Ashaan is a nation that died long ago. The Veiled Sisters keep its corpse walking through spirit-binding, terror, and the endless consumption of their own people. The capital, Galanina, is a city of black marble and brass cages. The Red Desert, which now covers half the country, was once fertile land; the Sisters’ magic leeched the life from it. There is no recovery, only a slower dying. But here’s the secret the Sisters don’t want you to know: the Veil is cracking. The spirits they’ve bound for centuries are whispering to each other. And the Hollow has begun to notice.

The Esoiti control every ledger and every gate. The Black Hand hunts without uniform—but the Hand is human. They were once bakers, clerks, mothers, soldiers. Some are fanatics who chose the knife. Others are desperate souls who were given a choice: serve or vanish. They do not sleep well. Their hands shake when the Sisters” acolytes pass. And the Sisters—the Sisters are not human. They do not negotiate. They do not threaten. They state what will be. Their voices are the same as the wind over a mass grave. You cannot bribe a divine disaster. You can only survive its attention.

The Breath-less meet in root cellars, learning to read ledgers without leaving marks. We are not heroes. We are the ones who learned that a whisper can be louder than a scream—and that the Sisters fear silence more than they fear rebellion. Silence means the Veil is healing. Silence means the bound are forgetting. The Sisters cannot abide forgetting.

Never name the dead. The Sisters bind spirits to names. Speak a dead name aloud, and you may find yourself bound alongside them.

— Tamar, Breath-less cell leader, who has three names—each for a different jurisdiction

What do people eat for breakfast? Black bread and thin soup—the bread is made from grain grown on the edge of the Red Desert, the soup is flavoured with salt and memory. The memory is of green fields. The fields are gone. The bread is bitter.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To veil their face. Ashaan children are taught to cover their mouths when speaking, their eyes when listening, their ears when hearing secrets. A child who cannot veil is a child who will be taken by the Sisters. The Sisters take children. The children become spirits. The spirits serve the Sisters. The Sisters never stop taking.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their veil. Ashaan veils are coded—red for mourning, white for marriage, black for the Sisters. A stranger whose veil is gray is a Breath-less agent. A stranger whose veil is torn is a fugitive. A stranger with no veil is a fool. Fools are collected by the Black Hand. The Black Hand does not ask questions. The Black Hand was once a person. The Black Hand no longer remembers who.

What is the most common crime? Spirit-trading—but spirit-trading is not a crime, it is the economy. The Sisters bind spirits to brass cages. The cages are sold to the Esoiti. The Esoiti sell the spirits to foreign buyers. The foreign buyers do not know what they are buying. The Sisters do not care. The Sisters are not merchants. They are a natural disaster with a ledger.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? Everyone is afraid. The Black Hand fears the Esoiti’s audits. The Esoiti fears the Sisters“ gaze. The Sisters fear the Hollow’s patience. The baker fears the guard. The guard fears the Hand. The Hand fears the name on tomorrow’s list. The only person in Ashaan who is not afraid is the child who has not yet learned to read the ledger. That child will be afraid by next spring.

Where do people go when they die? To the brass cages. The dead are not buried. They are bound into spirit-lanterns and hung from the walls of Galanina. The lanterns glow green. The green is the light of the bound. The bound cannot speak. The bound cannot scream. The bound can only watch. Sometimes they weep. The tears evaporate into glass.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a name—a dead name, a forgotten name, a name the Sisters do not yet know. The Sisters bind the name to a brass cage. The cage is placed in the Hall of Silence. The Hall is full. The Hall is always full. The Hall is never silent. The cages whisper. The whispers are the names of those who were erased.

What is the most important festival? The Night of the Unbound (winter solstice). The spirits strain against their cages. The Sisters renew their bindings. The ceremony takes three days. The city is silent for three days. The silence is not prayer. The silence is fear. If you listen closely during the silence, you can hear the Hollow breathing.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The High Sister is not a sister. She is a spirit—the first one bound, nine hundred years ago. She bound herself to the throne. She cannot leave. She cannot die. She cannot stop binding. The other Sisters do not know. The other Sisters are her prisoners. The prisoners guard the jailer. The jailer does not sleep. Her veil is made of gold coins from a dozen dead empires. The coins do not clink. They weep when she speaks.

Ashaan — “The Veiled Throne”

Key Demographic: Human Capital: Ashaan (The City)

Ashaan is a setting of systemic cruelty: chattel slavery, state-sanctioned violence, child sacrifice (secret cults), and the erasure of identity. The Veiled Sisters rule through terror, the Black Hand erases dissent, and the Breath-less resistance struggles in shadows. These themes are presented as horror and injustice, never glamourised. Before playing, use Lines & Veils to ensure everyone’s comfort. If you need to adjust or omit elements, the GM has final authority. Your safety matters more than canon.

Quick Reference

Tagline: The Veil is not a choice. It is survival. Speak in thirds — two options and a hidden third. The ninth word is always a knife.

Veiled Sister (Elite): “The Veil is not a choice. It is survival. You will show your eyes and nothing more. Speak in thirds — offer two options and a hidden third. The ninth word is always a knife.”

Breath-less Agent (Commoner): “They say Ikasha sleeps. I say she is patient. The Maeri have ruled for generations; they believe the Veil is eternal. But the Veil is silk. Silk frays. And I am learning to bite through — one whisper at a time.”

Genre / Mood: Grimdark spirit-horror, bureaucratic terror, whispered resistance, creeping divine punishment.

Starting Location: A root cellar beneath a spice merchant’s shop, lit by a smuggled candle. A Breath-less agent presses a folded paper into your hand: “My brother argued with an Esoti about a misweighed sack of cardamom. His name was erased from the rolls by morning. Help me find him — or help me remember his name.”

Once, the Ashaani Empire stretched across the eastern Amaranthine rim — a river-fed dominion of sorcerer-kings, the 999 Immortals, and the great twin-river metropolis of Khasurah. Three centuries ago, an invasion of Oshiira shattered the empire. The Immortals were annihilated; plague, blockade, and northern mercenaries finished the ruin. Today, what remains is a rump city-state called Ashaan (or As’Ashaan), a fortified river-island north of the Khesai delta. The old lands — the Green Ribbon floodplains, the Great Desert where glass hums with ancient curses — are a patchwork of loyal towns, restless hill peoples, and the ruins of swallowed cities like Khasurah, which still breathes under dunes and salt crusts.

But the fall of Ashaan was not merely conquest. It was punishment. The priests whisper that the 999 Immortals committed a sin so profound that the gods turned their faces away — and the sand remembers what the living have forgotten. The Veil, the magical membrane that separates the living from the dead, is not a barrier. It is a wound that never healed. And the wound is spreading.

Neighbors and Rivals:

• West – Oshiira: The grain empire that broke Ashaan’s back. The two nations maintain a cold peace, punctuated by Oshiiran grain barges that pay ruinous tariffs to pass the Brass Gate. Ashaani spies in Mbaro watch for any sign that the Widow might seek to finish what her ancestors started.

• South – Taharka: The highland kingdom of the Monsoon Crown. Taharkan passes are a graveyard for Ashaani armies; the Veiled Sisters have never broken those mountains. Now Ashaani agents slip through disguised as spice merchants, seeking to weaken Taharka from within.

• East – Galanina (Sidhi ancestral homeland) and the Pereshi Highlands: Galanina, the old eastern capital, lies under Ashaani control — but its Catacombs of the Unburied hold the bound spirits of Sidhi slaves, and the Breath-less dream of freeing them. Beyond, the Pereshi fire temples guard the secret of the Forgotten Prince, an Ashaani conqueror whose true name was severed. The Maeri want that name; the Pereshi will never give it.

The state is ruled by three masked beings known as the Maeri — the Veiled Sister (coins and winter), the Helmed Sister (steel and sickness), and the Masked Sister (red and black). No one knows what they are: demigods, archfey, lich-queens, or the last masks of the First Fey. They speak through the Esoti, a collegium of wizards who maintain the wards, govern the bureaucracy, and interpret the Maeri’s will. In secret, certain Esoti circles conduct child sacrifice to Khemesh, a sea-demon cult imported in the empire’s maritime days.

The Black Hand is the Maeri’s instrument: a fanatical network of bards and warlocks divided into three Aspects — Veiled (accountants, heralds, ruin by paper), Helmed (assassins and enforcers, ruin by blade), and Masked (courtesans, impresarios, ruin by desire). The Hand removes over-mighty nobles, disappears rival magi, and unpersons threats. Within it, ambition is a short road to an unmarked grave. Unlike the Sisters, the Hand is human — broken, desperate, or fanatical, but still capable of fear, doubt, and the occasional flicker of mercy.

Slavery is legal, widely practiced, and increasingly focused on wandered Sidhi lineages broken by the empire’s fall. Enslaved Sidhi bear blue marks on the forearm; illegal to remove without a manumission writ, but earth-wise midwives know ways to fade it. In the catacombs beneath Galanina — the old eastern capital — the dead are mapped like a city, and the spirits of the unburied are bound into brass cages.

Yet the Veil is cracking. In Galanina, devotion to the Angel Mykkiel (a solar of unbending Law and Justice) spreads. His zealots are incorruptible — an acid slowly eating the old order. And beneath the capital, the goddess Ikasha (She Who Sleeps) stirs in her sealed vault. Her followers, the Breath-less, meet in root cellars, learn to read records without leaving marks, and whisper that a name restored can weaken the Veil.

What you notice first: The smell of incense and rust. The way every doorway has a veil of brass chains. The silence when a Veiled Sister passes — even the spirits hold their breath. The brass tags on the dead — one for each Sister. And the green glass that glints in every shadow, fragments of a desert that was once a garden.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never name the dead. The Sisters bind spirits to names. Speak a dead name aloud, and you may find yourself bound alongside them. Also, never address a coin-veiled speaker at court unless you are ready to accept their price.

Regional Mood: The Weight of Damnation

Power here is measured in spirits bound, names erased, and the silence of witnesses. The Maeri rule through terror; the Esoti hold the records; the Black Hand hunts without uniform. The Breath-less whisper in cellars, learning to read records without leaving marks. Ashaan is not a place of open rebellion. It is a place of whispered warnings, vanished neighbors, and scrolls that rewrite themselves.

But beneath all of this runs the creeping. The Red Desert expands by inches each year, its green glass humming with a forgotten curse. The spirits bound in brass cages grow restless; their whispers are prayers to gods who no longer answer. The Veil, once a clean wound, has begun to fester. No one remembers what sin caused it. Perhaps no one ever knew. But everyone feels the weight — a pressure behind the eyes, a dryness in the throat, a certainty that something is coming.

Prominent NPCs of Ashaan

Names of Ashaan

Inspired by the eastern river-core and the long shadow of old empires: sharp consonants, vowel-rich endings, with echoes of ancient Egyptian and Seljuk naming conventions. Surnames often denote a lost lineage, a trade, or a place swallowed by the sand.

(Gate/Sanctum/Pan)

Salt pan with a broken spirit-cage; black marble temple with steps stained red; the Brass Gate — a fortified strait with spirit-buoys.

Places

2. Salt Pan with Broken Spirit-Cage — A white flat where the air hums. [DEATH] [SPIRIT] The cage is empty, but it still rattles at night. Something got out. The salt tastes of iron.

3. Black Marble Temple (Maeri) — Steps stained red; the blood never washes away. [DEATH] [HORROR] The temple has no windows. The Maeri do not need light. The steps are warm, as if a great beast sleeps beneath.

4. The Brass Gate — A fortified strait with spirit-buoys that scream when crossed. [TRAVEL] [SPIRIT] Each buoy contains a bound spirit. They sing the names of those who pass. The ninth buoy is silent.

5. Veiled Sister’s Sanctum — Entrance hidden by a mirage that shows your greatest fear. [MAGIC] [FEAR] The mirage is not an illusion. It is a memory the Sister has stolen. The memory is always from a child.

6. Galanina Slave Market — A circular pit with cages of brass and bone. [DEATH] [WEIGHT] The auctioneer wears a mask. The mask is made from the face of a debt-seller. The face still moves.

7. Esoti Record Hall — A long chamber with shelves of silent scrolls. [LAW] [WEIGHT] The scrolls write themselves. The ink is the blood of erased names. The ninth shelf is empty — reserved for the name that must never be recorded.

8. Black Hand Garrison — A nondescript building with no windows and a single door. [DANGER] The door has no handle. It opens inward only when a name is whispered. The whisper is never forgotten.

9. Breath-less Cellar — A root cellar with a single candle and a hole in the floor. [SECRET] The hole leads to a tunnel that leads to a tomb. The tomb is a safe house. The candle never burns lower.

10. Red Desert’s Edge — Where the fertile land turns to dust and glass. [WEATHER] [CURSE] The glass is green. It hums with the memory of the prince’s curse. The sound is the same as a brass cage rattling.

11. The Ninth Name Shrine — A ruin where a forbidden name is carved into stone. [DEATH] [SECRET] The stone weeps water. The water tastes of iron and forgotten vows. The name is worn smooth — no one can read it, but everyone fears it.

12. Spirit-Binding Foundry — A forge where brass cages are made. [CRAFT] [SPIRIT] The forge is heated by a bound fire-spirit. It screams when the bellows pump. The screams are prayers in a dead language.

13. The Hollow Vessel Nursery — An orphanage where children are prepared for possession. [HORROR] [DEATH] The children have no shadows. Their shadows have been sold. The ninth cot is always empty — for the child who will be the Hollow’s vessel.

14. Ikasha’s Sleeping Chamber — A sealed vault beneath Galanina. [MYSTERY] [PATRON] Inside, a stone sarcophagus. The stone is warm. She Who Sleeps dreams of freedom. Her dreams leak through the cracks — green glass grows where they touch stone.

(Hunter/Agent/Magician)

Slave-hunter (Black Hand) with a branding iron; Breath-less agent (freed slave, now spy); an Ashaani magician who offers dangerous knowledge.

People & Factions

2. Terrified Baker — Kneads dough with shaking hands. He knows which Black Hand guards take bribes and which take only silence. He will sell you bread, but he will not meet your eyes. If the Hand asks, he did not see you. He will weep afterward. [SURVIVAL] [FEAR] His son was taken for “reeducation” last year. He does not know if the boy is alive. He is afraid to ask.

3. Ledger Clerk (Esoti) — Ink-stained fingers, hollow eyes. Copies erasure orders all day. He knows whose names are on next week’s list. He will trade that knowledge for a single assurance that his own name isn’t on it — but he cannot be sure you can deliver. He is not brave. He is merely desperate. [LAW] [WEIGHT] He has a wife and a daughter. The daughter’s name is written on a scrap of paper hidden in his shoe. That is his only insurance.

4. Black Hand Recruit (Fresh) — Still has a family. Still flinches when the brand touches his arm. He joined because the mines are a death sentence. He does not know what he will be asked to do next week. He is terrified. He will let you pass if you promise to tell his mother he didn’t suffer. [COMBAT] [TRAGEDY] He has never killed anyone. He does not know if he can.

5. Mother at the Well — Gave her youngest child’s name to the Sisters. Not because she is evil. Because the alternative was her whole family being taken. She draws water at dawn when acolytes aren’t watching. She will not speak of it. But if you ask about the ninth child, she will weep. [DEATH] [SORROW] The child’s name was Laila. She hums her daughter’s lullaby to the rope. The well remembers.

6. Black Hand Veteran — Has served twenty years. Her hands do not shake. She has seen the Sisters’ work up close. She knows there is no escape, only delay. She will not help you escape — but she might sell you a day’s head start. The price is a story. The story must be true. [DANGER] [WORLDWEARY] She has forgotten the taste of honey. She would like to remember.

7. Esoti Junior Magistrate — Inherited her post from an uncle who disappeared. She knows the laws are lies. She enforces them anyway because the alternative is the Binding Foundry. She drinks too much and weeps in the archive. She has a key to a vault. She will lend it — for a story about what freedom tastes like. [LAW] [SECRET] The key is a brass finger bone. It fits a lock in the Ninth Ledger’s vault. She does not know what it opens.

8. Slave (Household) — Not a rebel. Not a hero. Just a woman who has learned to be invisible. She knows the secret passages behind the kitchen. She will trade directions for a single piece of news from outside — any news, even bad. She wants to know if her village still exists. [STEALTH] [SURVIVAL] She wears a brass tag with a number. She has memorised the number of every slave in the household. She is waiting for the day the numbers no longer matter.

9. Black Hand Officer (Compromised) — He takes bribes. He looks the other way. He has a daughter in the Sisters’ care as a “ward.” He knows she is a hostage. He will let you pass if you carry a letter to her — a letter that says nothing, but is written on paper that smells of home. He is not your ally. He is a man drowning. [AUTHORITY] [TRAP] The paper is his daughter’s old schoolwork. The ink is his own blood. He does not know if she can still read.

10. Veiled Sister (Acolyte, not a full Sister) — She was given to the temple at nine. She does not remember her mother. She believes the Veil protects the empire from something worse. She has never seen a slave beaten — they hide that from novices. She is not evil. She is cultivated. A crack in her certainty may take years to open. You do not have years. [MYSTERY] [DANGER] She wears a veil of hammered silver. Underneath, her face is smooth — no scars, no wrinkles. She has not aged since she took her vows.

11. The Whisperer (Breath-less cell leader) — She has three names, each for a different jurisdiction. She moves through the catacombs like smoke. She will trust you only after you have broken a small law in her presence — not to prove your courage, but to prove you have something to lose. [SECRET] [RESISTANCE] She writes messages on water. The words vanish, but the Sisters cannot read them. Her reflection is missing. She sold it for a name.

12. The Black Hand’s Shadow — A Hand agent who has stopped sleeping. He sees the Sisters’ work in his dreams. He knows he cannot leave. He will not betray his oath — but he might fail to see you, if the price is a single night of dreamless rest. The price is a memory. He will take the happiest one. [DEATH] [HORROR] He carries a brass bell that rings once every hour. It is the only thing that keeps him awake. He has not heard it ring in three days.

13. The Esoti Censor (Desperate) — A high-ranking magistrate who has been ordered to falsify a lineage. If she refuses, her family is erased. If she complies, she knows the truth will outlive her. She will give you the original document — for a promise that her grandson will be told, one day, why his grandmother’s name was struck from the rolls. [LAW] [TRAGEDY] The document is written on human skin. The skin was her own, cut from her thigh when she took office. She has no feeling there anymore.

14. The Veiled Sister (Full) — Malignant divine justice made flesh. She does not threaten. She does not bargain. She states what will happen. She is always correct. She has never been seen eating, sleeping, or blinking. She is not a woman. She is a function of the Veil. There is no complexity here. There is only the weight of a god’s attention. (No debt. No price. Only survival.) [PATRON] [APOCALYPSE] Her veil is made of gold coins from a dozen dead empires. They do not clink. They weep when she speaks.

(Dust/Gate/Spirit)

Spirit-dust storm (Navigation DV +1, mark Fatigue); Brass Gate closed for “inspection” — delay 2 segments; a bound spirit breaks free and attacks.

Complications/Threats

2. Spirit-Dust Storm — Red sand from the desert carries whispering spirits. [WEATHER] [DEATH] Navigation DV +1. Mark Fatigue. The voices ask for your name. Do not answer. They already know it.

3. Brass Gate Closed — The strait is sealed for “inspection.” Delay 2 segments. [LAW] [DELAY] The “inspection” is a hunt for a Breath-less agent. The agent is in your party. The gate knows. The gate is patient.

4. Bound Spirit Breaks Free — A brass cage cracks. The spirit attacks. [DEATH] [COMBAT] The spirit was once a child. It weeps as it fights. Killing it feels like murder. Freeing it feels like surrender.

5. The Veil Fails — For a moment, the Maeri’s magic falters. Spirit-visions haunt all. [MAGIC] [FEAR] You see the face of someone you wronged. They are asking for an apology. You cannot remember what you did. That is the punishment.

6. Black Hand Sweep — A sudden search of the district. Everyone’s papers are checked. [LAW] [DANGER] Your papers are in order. The Black Hand does not care. They take you anyway. The order was the trap.

7. Esoti Audit — A magistrate demands to see your records. Your records are lies. [LAW] [WEIGHT] The magistrate smiles. “Everyone lies. I just need to know how much.” His quill is already moving.

8. Spirit-Hound Scent — A pack of bound hounds is on your trail. [DEATH] [TRACKING] The hounds are invisible. You can hear their breathing, close and wet. Their breath smells of brass and old prayers.

9. Slave Raid — A Veiled Sister’s caravan is taking villagers. You are in the way. [COMBAT] [WEIGHT] The villagers are armed. They have been expecting you. You are the bait. The Sister is not here. She is watching.

10. Ikasha’s Whisper — In a quiet moment, you hear a voice: “Free me.” [OMEN] [PATRON] The whisper comes from a crack in the floor. A single green eye looks up. The eye is glass. It blinks.

11. The Ninth Name Spoken — Someone in the party speaks a dead name aloud. [DEATH] [WEIGHT] The air grows cold. A spirit appears. It wants to know why you called. It does not accept silence as an answer.

12. Sister’s Test — A Veiled Sister offers a deal: betray a Breath-less contact for safety. [SOCIAL] [WEIGHT] The offer is genuine. The price is your soul. The Sister watches you decide. She is not in a hurry. She has all of eternity.

13. Mass Haunting — The bound spirits rise as one. The Veil is tearing. [DEATH] [HORROR] The spirits do not attack. They simply ask: “Why did you let this happen?” They do not mean the empire. They mean the children.

14. The Demon’s Weight Called — The Kalrantha Amulet glows. A voice whispers: “Speak your desire.” The whisper is your own. [DEATH] [WEIGHT] You do not remember giving it permission. The amulet is not a prison. It is a magnet. It draws you toward your fate.

(Name/Lamp/Seal)

A slave’s true name (free them or bind them further); spirit-lamp (one question to a bound spirit); brass seal (guest status in a Sister’s sanctum).

Rewards/Leverage

2. Slave’s True Name — Use it to free a bound person — or bind them further. [WEIGHT] [POWER] The name is written on a scrap of skin. The skin was the slave’s own. The letters are still warm.

3. Spirit-Lamp — Ask one question of a bound spirit. It cannot lie. [MAGIC] [TRUTH] The lamp burns green. The spirit’s face appears in the flame. It is weeping. The tears evaporate into glass.

4. Brass Seal (Guest Status) — Safe passage in a Sister’s sanctum for one visit. [SOCIAL] [PROTECTION] The seal is warm. It glows when a Sister is lying. It also glows when you are lying. The Sister does not ask which.

5. Veil-Clip — Speak without being silenced by Maeri magic. [MAGIC] [PROTECTION] The clip is a small brass spider. It crawls onto your collar and whispers. It whispers the names of those who cannot speak.

6. Erased Name Page — A page from the Esoti record with a name struck through. [SECRET] [WEIGHT] The ink is still wet. The name was erased ten minutes ago. The page is warm. It has a pulse.

7. Breath-less Cipher — A codebook for reading secret messages on water. [SECRET] [STEALTH] The cipher is written on a leaf. The leaf dissolves when read. The water remembers. The water does not forgive.

8. Spirit-Hound Whistle — Call off a pack of bound hounds once. [PROTECTION] [DEATH] The whistle is made from a child’s bone. The child was the hounds’ last victim. The hounds remember her scent.

9. Ikasha’s Dream — One prophetic vision of the Maeri’s next move. [MAGIC] [KNOWLEDGE] The dream arrives as a headache. The vision is clear. The cost is one memory. The memory is always of a door closing.

10. Black Hand Mask — Wear it to pass as a Hunter for one scene. [STEALTH] [DECEPTION] The mask has no eye holes. The mask sees for you. It also remembers. It will report what it saw to the Hand.

11. Cage-Maker’s Flaw — A key that opens any spirit-cage. One use. [MAGIC] [PROTECTION] The key is a bent nail. It was the flaw the cage-maker left. The flaw is also a prayer. The cage-maker does not know to whom.

12. Drowned Sister’s Secret — The location of a hidden Breath-less archive. [SECRET] [KNOWLEDGE] The archive is in a well. The well is guarded by a ghost. The ghost’s name is Mercy. She does not remember why.

13. Ninth Sister’s Veil — Wear it to appear as a Veiled Sister for one hour. [DECEPTION] [DANGER] The veil is also a noose. Do not tie it too tight. The Sister who gave it to you is already dead. She did not untie it.

14. The Unnamed Prince’s Map — A map to the original Kalrantha temple. [LEGEND] [QUEST] The map is drawn on human skin. The skin was the prince’s own. The map glows under moonlight. It shows the way — and the cost.

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 (names, lamps, seals) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo veil-omens—brass chains that rattle without wind, scrolls that open to the wrong page, a whisper that sounds like your own voice, green glass growing where no glass should be.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• The Veil: The Maeri’s control is maintained through spirit-binding and terror. The Veil is a magical membrane that separates the living from the dead. When the Veil fails, spirits walk. Mechanically, the GM may spend 3 SB to trigger a Veil Failure scene: all spirits become visible, bound spirits may break free, and social rolls against the Maeri’s agents gain +1 Position. The Veil fails more often now. No one knows why.

• The Veil’s Attention (Divine Threat Timer): Unlike mundane factions, the Veiled Sisters do not have a favor or debt track. They have a timer: Veil’s Attention [6]. It ticks when the party draws the Sisters’ gaze — by speaking a forbidden name, by freeing a slave, by resisting a Black Hand sweep, or simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When the timer ticks, the GM may impose an omen: a mirror fogs, a bell rings in still air, a shadow falls where no light is cast. When the timer reaches 6, a Veiled Sister appears. She does not offer a bargain. She pronounces a judgment: a name to be erased, a memory to be taken, a life to be claimed. The party cannot fight her. They can only flee, or hide, or offer a substitution — a name they are willing to lose. The Sisters are not enemies. They are a natural disaster with a ledger.

• The Breath-less (Ikasha’s Cult as Active Resistance): She Who Sleeps is not a patron of open rebellion. Her followers meet in root cellars, learn to read records without leaving marks, and whisper secrets under the cover of a cough. A character who whispers Ikasha’s name before sleeping gains +1 die to resist fear for the next day, but marks 1 Exposure (the Black Hand may notice). Their symbol is a broken brass chain. Aiding the Breath-less may earn a Breath-less Cipher (see Diamonds) but advances a Black Hand Interest timer.

• The 999 Immortals: The failed invasion of Oshiira is commemorated in the Temple of the Golden Sepulcher, where the gem-eyed skulls of the 999 are interred. Each New Flood, magistrates process with gold-veiled reliquaries, praying not to repeat their hubris. The guardless helmed blades of the Immortals became trophies; many now hang at the hips of Oshiira’s greatest warriors. Some say the skulls whisper at night. They whisper a name that no one will speak.

• Veil Etiquette: At court, a face fully veiled in coin signals “I speak as the treasury.” To address such a speaker is to accept their price. The ninth cup at elite tables is lifted without drinking — a silent remembrance of the 999 and a warning against hubris. Masktime (the hour before sunrise) is when contracts are sealed, lovers dismissed, and bribes counted; unmasked business at that hour is considered offensive. Those who break the ninth cup rule find that their next drink tastes of glass.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Unbound Chain – Ikasha. She Who Sleeps; her dream is freedom. Her dream is leaking.

  • The Gilded Scale – Mykkiel. The Maeri’s twisted version of divine law; the zealots of Galanina. Their scales weigh not coin, but names.

  • The Drowned Prince – Khemesh. Pressure from the deep; the Red Desert was once his seabed. His cult practices child sacrifice in secret. The sacrifices are always the ninth child.

  • The Silvered Tongue – Malachai. Curses sold as blessings, whispered in the slave markets. The blessing always includes a ninth clause. No one reads it.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara Connection): The Red Desert was once fertile land, destroyed by an Ashaani prince who stole the Kalrantha amulet. The Maeri want the amulet to bind the demon again — or to use it for themselves. The Breath-less want to destroy it. The prince’s true name, long severed by the Pereshi, is said to be written on a scroll sealed beneath Mount Khvarena. The Maeri would pay anything to learn it. The sand remembers his crime. The sand is still hungry.

• The Sidhi of the Brass Coast (Way of Silk): The Sidhi are coastal cousins of the Ashaani who fled slavery generations ago. They maintain lighthouse courts and freedman’s seals. They remember every raid. A Sidhi captain may be a Breath-less contact — and some whisper that the green flame of their lighthouses is a fragment of Ikasha’s dream, stolen from the Veiled Sisters. The flame flickers when the Veil tears.

• The Veiled Sisters and the Serpent’s Turn (Isoka): The oldest Veiled Sister legends speak of a time when name-erasure was a sacred judgment, witnessed by the Serpent (Isoka). The severed name was buried in a well of tears, and the Serpent’s gaze kept the Hollow at bay. But when the Sisters began erasing names for silver and power, the Serpent turned away. Now the Serpent’s gaze falls only on the Breath-less — who whisper that Ikasha’s dream is to restore what the Serpent abandoned. The Sisters do not speak of this. The Hollow does not care. The Serpent’s shed skin is said to be buried beneath the Brass Gate.

• The Hollow and the Ninth Name (Eastern Realms): In Ashaan, the Hollow is the space left by an erased name. The Maeri feed the Hollow with forgotten weights. The Breath-less know that to restore a name is to weaken the Veil — and that the Hollow’s hunger is the price of the Serpent’s silence. A name restored can weaken a Sister’s binding for a season. The Hollow is patient. The Hollow is not hungry. The Hollow is waiting.

• Oshiira’s Cold Peace: Grain barges from Oshiira pay ruinous tariffs at the Brass Gate. In return, Ashaani spies watch every weigh-house in Mbaro, waiting for the Widow to falter. A party that smuggles grain past the Gate could earn the gratitude of starving villages — and the ire of the Veiled Sisters. The Breath-less sometimes bribe the gatekeepers with stories, not silver; stories are harder to trace. The gatekeepers have a ninth story they never tell.

• Taharka’s Unconquered Passes: Ashaani armies have shattered against the Monsoon Crown’s highlands. Now the Maeri send agents disguised as spice merchants to spread poison and dissent. A Breath-less cell in the Silver Pass may hold the only copy of a treaty that could unite Taharka and Ashaan against a common foe — if anyone is brave enough to read it. The treaty is written on a scroll sealed with a knotted cord; the knot is Tulkani work, and it cannot be cut without a story. The ninth page of the treaty is blank. It is reserved for the name of the traitor.

• The Pereshi Highlands and the Forgotten Prince: The fire temples of Pereshi guard the severed name of the Ashaani prince who tried to conquer them. The Maeri would pay anything to learn that name — for to speak it would be to unmake the Veiled Throne’s own claim to authority. The Pereshi will never give it. A party caught between the two might steal the name — or destroy it forever. The Breath-less believe that destroying the name would free the Hollow’s attention from Ashaan; the Maeri believe it would let them bind the Hollow itself. The prince’s name is carved on a ninth coal that has never been lit. It is warm.

Ashaan Superstitions (Burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Veil: Crumble a crust at a brass cage. Ignore the first Spirit-Dust Storm penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Veil-Clip: Tie a single knot in your veil. Cancel Black Hand Sweep or take –1 die on your next stealth roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Well: Whisper a dead Breath-less agent’s name into a well. Gain +1 Effect when evading the Maeri this scene, but mark Obligation to Ikasha. [SUPERSTITION]

• Glass to the Sand: Drop a shard of green glass into the Red Desert at noon. The next time the Veil fails, you will see it coming one minute in advance. The glass will hum the warning. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Black Hand agents or Esoiti clerks.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby spirit-hounds or slave-catchers.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for Veiled Sisters or bound spirits.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or safe passage.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Black Hand or Esoti magistrate becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to veil failure or spirit manifestation.

• Foe Appears: A bound spirit or slave-hunter 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 Black Hand, Esoti guards, or bound spirits arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — Veil fails / spirit breaks free / name is spoken.

• 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: A Maeri (Veiled, Helmed, or Masked), Esoti High Magistrate, or Ikasha’s manifestation intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — Veil tears / sandstorm rises / Brass Gate seals.

• 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

• Ashaan (The Veil): Brass chains rattle, scrolls open to the wrong page, a whisper sounds like your own voice, a green glass shard grows from a crack in the wall.

• Ashaan (Red Desert): Glass shards hum, sand shifts to reveal bones, a mirage shows a memory you had forgotten, the sky turns the color of a healing bruise.

• Ashaan (Breath-less): A cough from a shadow, a knock in a cellar, a name written on water that does not dissolve, a candle that burns without a wick.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Stealth): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose False Trail.

• Cut the Veil (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a Sister’s seal is in your possession, +1 die.

• Weather the Haunting (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Mass Haunting, you pick who is targeted; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Spirit & Veil)

• The Record-Eater (Nine Erasures) — Phases: Audit Thresholds → Orchestrated Erasure → Veil Coup. Cracks: cut a lineage page; reveal swapped seal; survive a staged haunting. It appears as a scribe whose hands are brass.

• The Unbound Sister (Brine-Veil) — Phases: Drownings Called Mercy → Procession at Brass Gate → Spirit-Baptism of a Magistrate. Cracks: relic spirit-lamp, survivor testimony, the Veil turning against them. Her veil is made of chain, not silk. It clinks when she moves.

• The Forgotten Prince’s Echo (Pereshi Connection) — Phases: Whisper of the True Name → Fire Temple Cracks → The Prince Walks. Cracks: burn a page of the Pereshi epic, speak a different name into the Ninth Coal, or convince the Maeri that the prince was never real. His shadow has no feet. He walks on glass.

Among the Ashaani, power flows through fear, spirit-binding, and the erasure of names. The Maeri hold ultimate authority, but the Esoti control the records, the Black Hand enforces silence, and the Breath-less whisper in cellars. A name can be a weapon or a shield. The Mykkielites of Galanina are an acid slowly eating the old order, and Ikasha stirs in her sleep.

But the true power is the creep. No one knows when the Veil will tear next. No one knows which name will be the ninth. No one is safe. Not the Maeri. Not the Breath-less. Not the slaves, not the masters, not the glass that grows in the dark. The punishment is spreading. The sin is forgotten. The sand remembers. The sand is patient.

For the GM: Power in Ashaani society is hidden and treacherous. Patronage often takes the form of true names, spirit-lamps, or erased pages — each carrying the weight of damnation. To emphasize this:

• Tie rewards to secrets (names, whispers, visions) that can be betrayed, stolen, or used against the giver.

• Let rival factions (Maeri vs. Esoti vs. Breath-less vs. Mykkielites) offer conflicting paths, forcing players to choose whose weight to incur.

• Use the Brass Gate, the Record Hall, and the root cellars as arenas for social contests, where truth is a weapon and silence is a shield.

• Track Black Hand Interest as a campaign timer. Each time the party aids the Breath-less or escapes a Sister, tick the timer. When it fills, a Black Hand squad arrives with a warrant for their erasure — but the warrant is signed by a Sister who has been dead for a year.

• Let the Veil fail unpredictably. The GM may spend SB to trigger a tear at the worst moment. The tear is always in the shape of a ninth door.

In Ashaani society, your name is your bond — and your bond can be erased. But the erasure leaves a scar. The scar grows glass.

Ngomebe

The Stone Men.

A city that stops moving is a city that has chosen to die. The stone remembers every mile, every roller, every oath sworn in the shadow of the keystone. We do not build cities. We raise them from the earth and teach them to walk.

I am a Stone-Cutter. My grandfather carved the keystone for this city. My father greased the rollers. I inherited a sledge and a song. The song is the city’s heartbeat. If I stop singing, the city stops walking—and so do I.

Ngomebe are a people of deep, iron-dark skin and older ties to the southern ranges. Their cities walk—colossal stone structures on rollers and sledges, dragged by teams of oxen, magic, and Aeler-designed capstans. A walking city is not a curiosity; it is a living argument against stillness. But here’s the secret the Mason-Kin don’t want you to know: the stone is not just a material. It listens. It remembers. And sometimes, it disagrees. When the keystone cracks, it is not a flaw—it is a message. The ancestors are trying to tell you something. The question is whether you’re brave enough to read the cracks.

The Root-binders plant acorns in the roller-pits, singing to the earth. They believe the cities should stop and let the forest reclaim the stone. The Aeler engineers maintain the bearings, but they are neither masters nor servants—they are partners in a pact older than memory. And the Ancestral Healers speak for the dead, who vote through the cracks in the keystone. Their votes are always unanimous. Their verdicts are always final.

Never carve a name into living rock. The stone remembers. It will whisper that name to every spirit of the earth, and the debt will follow your bloodline for seven generations.

— Remi, Stone-Cutter, whose city left him behind

What do people eat for breakfast? Stone-ground meal and fermented milk—the meal is ground between the city’s own millstones, the milk is from goats that walk alongside the city. The goats are older than the city. The goats remember where the city has been. The goats do not speak. The goats do not need to.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To sing the city’s song. Ngomebe children are taught the rhythm of the rollers—eight beats to a mile, eight miles to a day, eight days to a season. The ninth beat is the city’s secret. The ninth beat is never sung aloud.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their dust. Ngomebe are coated in fine stone-dust—from the quarries, the rollers, the wind that follows the city. A stranger whose dust is white has come from the mountains. A stranger whose dust is red has come from the desert. A stranger with no dust has never walked with a city. The cities do not trust the dustless.

What is the most common crime? Stone-theft—but stone-theft is not a crime, it is a wound. The stone is the city’s memory. A stolen stone is a forgotten year. The year is forgotten by everyone who walked it. The forgetfulness spreads. The city’s song stutters. The stutter is a warning.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The city is not moving toward anything. It is moving away. The Ngomebe are fleeing something that lies to the south. The thing in the south is older than the stone. The thing in the south does not walk. It waits.

Where do people go when they die? Into the keystone. The dead are not buried. Their ashes are mixed into mortar and pressed into the city’s foundation. The dead become part of the city’s weight. The city walks heavier each year. The dead do not complain. The dead are the city’s anchor.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You carve a new roller. The roller must be cut from a single stone, with no cracks, no flaws, no forgotten names. The roller is placed beneath the city’s foundation. If it rolls true, you are forgiven. If it cracks, you are not. If it crumbles, you are added to the mortar.

What is the most important festival? The Turning of the Rollers (spring equinox). The city stops for one day. The rollers are inspected, greased, and blessed. The city’s song is sung from dawn to dusk. The song has eight verses. The ninth verse is silence. The silence is for the dead. The dead are listening.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The city is not a city. It is a tomb—a monument to a king who died before the first stone was laid. The king’s name is carved into the keystone. The keystone is at the city’s heart. The heart is inaccessible. The king is patient. The king is waiting to be remembered.

Ngomebe — “The Stone Men”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Mhlaba

Quick Reference

Tagline: The stone remembers. The ancestors walk with the rollers. The city that stops dies.

Mason-Kin Elder (Elite): “A city that stops moving is a city that has chosen to die. The stone remembers every mile, every roller, every oath sworn in the shadow of the keystone. We do not build cities. We raise them from the earth and teach them to walk.”

Stone-Cutter (Commoner): “My grandfather carved the keystone for this city. My father greased the rollers. I inherited a sledge and a song. The song is the city’s heartbeat. If I stop singing, the city stops walking — and so do I.”

Ancestral Healer (Izinyanga): “The ancestors do not speak in words. They speak in cracks. A fissure in the keystone is not a flaw — it is a message. Learn to read the stone’s wounds, or the city will read your bones.”

Genre / Mood: Walking city survival, ancestral stone magic, industrial partnership, ecological heresy.

Starting Location: The edge of a moving city’s path, where the stone is still warm and the dust has not yet settled. A Mason-Kin elder approaches, wiping granite dust from his face: “A keystone has cracked. The city will stop before dawn. The ancestors are restless. Find the saboteur — a Root-binder, a tokoloshe, or a traitor among us — or push the rollers yourselves. The plateau does not forgive stillness.”

The Ngomebe are a people of deep, iron-dark skin and older ties to the southern ranges. Their cities walk — colossal stone structures on rollers and sledges, dragged by teams of oxen, magic, and Aeler-designed capstans. This partnership is one of the great cross-cultural achievements of the age: Aeler engineers maintain the bearings; Ngomebe masons carve the keystones. A walking city is not a curiosity; it is a living argument against stillness, a monument to survival in a land where staying in one place invites famine, war, or the slow forgetting of ancestral stone.

Spirits are not distant — they live in the rock, the rollers, the cracks. The ancestors speak through keystone fissures. The tokoloshe fouls the bearings at night. The impundulu (lightning bird) shatters entire sledges with a single strike. The Ngomebe do not fight these spirits. They bargain with them: a grindstone of fresh meat, a pot of home-brewed sorghum beer, a promise whispered into a roller-pit.

The Ngomebe are no more united than the stone is silent. Mason-Kin Houses feud openly over migration routes and carving rights. The Aeler Covenant guards its technical secrets even as it swears partnership. Root-binders gather in the groves, preaching that motion is a curse. Among the Sledge-Born laborers, songs of stillness spread in whispers. And the Izinyanga keep their own counsel, reading cracks that houses and engineers would rather ignore.

Neighbors and Rivals:

• Northwest — Sekogo: The Ukwe’s roots reach into Ngomebe’s southern savanna. Sekogo druids trade honey for keystone shards, believing the stone contains trapped memories of the jungle’s oldest trees.

• Northeast — Aelinnel of the Southern Coast: Fae-touched gnomes who broker the pact that keeps the walking cities from sinking into soft ground. Their dawn bone-roll determines each day’s safe path. The Ngomebe tolerate them; the gnomes hold a bond older than memory.

• East/Southeast — Aelaerem of Taharka (Highland halflings): Small, red-threaded folk who tend the passes and offer shelter to weary caravans. They share a reverence for ancestral stone and trade coffee for iron.

• South — The Salt Scar: A vast, cracked waste where abandoned keystones lie like frozen waves. The Still Voice haunts these ruins, asking every traveler why their city stopped.

What you notice first: The groan of stone on stone. The smell of warm granite, ox sweat, and sorghum beer offerings. The way the ground trembles slightly, even a mile away, as the city inches across the plateau.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never carve a name into living rock. The stone remembers. It will whisper that name to every spirit of the earth, and the weight will follow your bloodline for seven generations.

Regional Mood: The Weight of Movement

Power here is measured in keystones, migration routes, and the loyalty of the Mason-Kin. A walking city is a polity, a temple, and a weapon all at once. Yet its people are far from united. The Mason-Kin Houses control the rights to carve, to move, and to settle, but they feud endlessly over precedence and pride. The Root-binders—heretics who plant acorns in the rollers—preach that the cities should stop and let the forest reclaim the stone, and their numbers swell among the weary. The Aeler Covenant engineers are neither masters nor servants; they are partners in a bond older than memory, though some among them whisper that the Ngomebe would be lost without Aeler steel. Beneath them all, the Izinyanga speak for the dead, and the dead speak through the keystone’s cracks. Even the Sledge-Born—the ox-drivers and grease-carriers—have begun to murmur that the weight of motion is too heavy to bear forever. When a city stops, it is because the ancestors have been offended. When a city moves true, it is because the Rain Queen has blessed the path.

The Walking City Timers (Campaign Engines)

Every city that moves is a living system. Track its health with these visible timers:

Migration Timer [10] — Advances each day the city moves, retreats when it stops. At 2: fertile land → +1 die to foraging. At 6: narrow pass → navigation Desperate. At 10: destination reached → Keystone Blessing. Roller Integrity [8] — Ticks when rollers crack or are sabotaged. At 4: speed halves. At 8: the city stops. Ancestor Favor [8] — Starts at 4. Ticks up when the ancestors are honored, down when they are offended. At 0: the Still Voice comes. At 8: the ancestors bless the city (one free Keystone Sense use per scene). Root-binder Attention [6] — Ticks when the party interacts with Root-binders or damages the forest. At 6: the Root-binders attack.

The Still Voice (1d6)

When Ancestor Favor reaches 0 or the city stops, the Still Voice appears. Roll 1d6:

1. “Why did you stop?” Answer truthfully, or it takes a memory (lose 1 XP, redeemable by a quest).

2. The Voice points at a character. That character now carries a Dead Keystone Shard — it weighs nothing, but the Hollow knows where they are.

3. The ground beneath the city cracks. The city sinks one foot. Roller Integrity  − 2.

4. The Voice demands a story about a city that never stopped. If you cannot tell one, it takes the name of your home village.

5. A keystone fragment rises from the earth. Touch it to ask one question about the city’s past. The Voice answers in a whisper.

6. The Voice weeps dust. The dust is bitter. If you taste it, you see the apocalypse that made the cities walk. Mark 1 Corruption.

The Cracking Wind (Umbhemisi)

The Salt Scar is not a desert. It is the graveyard of cities that stopped walking. Now a red dust — not sand, but ground bone and forgotten oaths — has begun to crawl north. The elders call it Umbhemisi, the Cracking Wind. Where it touches a keystone, the stone weeps rust. Where it touches a roller, the wood splits. The cities that hear its song are moving south, but the dust follows.

Umbhemisi’s Advance [8] — A campaign timer that ticks when:

• The party remains in one place for more than a week (+1)

• A keystone is cracked by sabotage or neglect (+1)

• The Still Voice is summoned (+2)

• A city stops moving (+2)

At 4 segments: Red dust storms appear on the horizon. All navigation rolls suffer  − 1 die. At 8 segments: Umbhemisi reaches the city. Roller Integrity ticks  − 1 per day, and the Cracking Wind itself may manifest as a boss (use the Dust Walker stats from the Nine Rollers sidebox).

Prominent NPCs of Ngomebe

The walking cities host several competing factions. The Mason-Kin Houses guard tradition and migration rights. The Aeler Covenant maintains the mechanical bond. The Izinyanga speak for the ancestors. The Root-binders preach stillness. The Sledge-Born are the common laborers who grease the rollers and often question the cost of endless motion.

Names of Ngomebe

Inspired by the deep southern plateau: short, earth-toned syllables with clicks and tonal shifts. Surnames often denote a stone type, a city of origin, or a Mason-Kin House.

(Quarry/Hall/Edge)

Abandoned quarry where stone-song still echoes; Mason-Kin hall with walls carved in lineage; the edge of a city’s path — the stone is warm to the touch.

Spades — Places

2. City on the Move — Rollers groan, oxen low, the ground trembles. The city’s shadow moves faster than the city itself. Stay in the shadow to keep pace.
   Mechanical hook: If you fall out of the shadow, tick Migration Timer  − 1 (the city leaves you behind). On a Miss, you are separated for one scene.

3. Abandoned Quarry — Stone-song echoes from the walls. The song is the memory of the last stone cut here. It sings of a mason who fell.
   Mechanical hook: A character who listens (Spirit+Lore DV 4) learns a secret of the stone (a Clue about a forgotten city). On failure, the song haunts them — gain the Condition Quarry Dreams ( − 1 die on all Resolve tests for a day).

4. Mason-Kin Hall — Walls carved with lineage, floor inlaid with sledge-ruts. The carvings weep water when a city is in danger. The water tastes of granite.
   Mechanical hook: Drinking the water restores 1 Fatigue but ticks Ancestor Favor  − 1 (the ancestors are watching). Refusing to drink when offered ticks Ancestor Favor  − 2.

5. Edge of the Path — The stone is warm. The warmth fades when the city leaves. If you place your palm on the stone before it cools, you may ask the city one question.
   Mechanical hook: Ask the GM one yes/no question about the city’s destination. On a Miss, the stone burns your hand — mark 1 Fatigue and the answer is a lie.

6. Roller-Pit — A trench where the great rollers turn, greased with rendered ox-fat. The grease is mixed with ancestor ash. The rollers remember every mason who ever touched them.
   Mechanical hook: Entering the pit requires Body+Athletics DV 4. On failure, take 1 Harm. Sabotaging the pit (Wits+Craft DV 5) ticks Migration Timer  − 2 but starts a Root-binder Sabotage [4] timer.

7. Keystone Chamber — The heart of the city, a single stone that bears all weight. The keystone hums. The pitch changes when a mason swears a false oath.
   Mechanical hook: A character who swears an oath here cannot break it without ticking Ancestor Favor  − 3. The keystone will also reveal one lie spoken in its presence per scene.

8. Sledge-Track Scar — A groove worn into the bedrock by centuries of passage. The groove is deep enough to hide a corpse. Some say it already does.
   Mechanical hook: A character who hides in the scar gains +2 dice to Stealth, but on a Miss they disturb a ghost — start a Haunted Track [4] timer.

9. Oxen Corral (Mobile) — A pen on sledges, dragged behind the city. The oxen never sleep. They walk in their sleep. Their dreams move the city.
   Mechanical hook: A character who soothes the oxen (Presence+Beastcraft DV 4) clears 1 Fatigue from the team and advances Migration Timer +1. On failure, a stampede — lose 1 Supply.

10. Root-binder’s Grove — A hidden stand of trees planted in an abandoned roller-pit. The trees have stone roots. The roots grip the rollers and will not let go.
    Mechanical hook: Entering the grove ticks Root-binder Attention +1. A character who offers a story (Spirit+Performance DV 4) may gain a Green Blessing (one use of acorn magic). On failure, the roots grab them — test Body+Athletics or be pinned.

11. Abandoned City (Dead Keystone) — A stone shell on a hill, silent and cold. The keystone is cracked. A single green shoot grows from the crack. The Root-binder’s work.
    Mechanical hook: The Still Voice is here. Roll 1d6 on the Still Voice table. If the party takes the shoot, they may plant it to start a new grove — but the Hollow will know.

12. Bearing Foundry (Aeler) — A mobile forge where new rollers are cast. The forge is pulled by a separate team of oxen. It is always last in the procession.
    Mechanical hook: The foundry can repair one roller per day (clear 2 segments of Roller Integrity) but costs 1 Supply in fuel. If the party is unwelcome, the Aeler engineer demands a story or a favor.

13. The Thing-Holm of Stone — A flat rock where Mason-Kin elders meet. The rock is a single piece of fallen sky-metal. Oaths sworn here cannot be broken.
    Mechanical hook: Any oath sworn here is witnessed by the ancestors. Breaking it ticks Ancestor Favor  − 4 and the oath-breaker is exiled from all walking cities.

14. The First City (Myth) — A walking city that never stopped. It is said to circle the plateau, just beyond the horizon. Those who see it cannot speak of it for a year and a day. The stone seals their lips.
    Mechanical hook: If the party sights the First City, they gain a First City’s Echo (Diamond). The GM also gains 3 SB — the Hollow is watching through the city’s eyes.

(Cutter/Elder/Engineer)

Stone-cutter whose city left them behind; Mason-Kin elder, gray with granite dust; Aeler engineer: grease-stained, carrying a level.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Stone-Cutter (Left Behind) — Her city moved south. She stayed to carve a monument. She carves her own face into the rock. “So the city will remember me,” she says.
   Obligation: She carries a sledge-right to a House that no longer exists. If you find the House’s charter, she will teach you a stone-song.
   Cost of aid: A chisel strike on her monument. She will not say where.

3. Mason-Kin Elder — Gray with granite dust, eyes the color of slate. He carries a hammer that has never struck a false blow. The hammer knows.
   Obligation: He lost a keystone charter to a Root-binder. If you recover it, he will grant you a Keystone Charter.
   Cost of aid: A day’s labor in the roller-pits (Body+Athletics DV 4). On failure, you owe a story about a city that fell.

4. Root-binder Heretic — Planting acorns in the roller-pits, singing to the earth. His hands are bark. His breath smells of green wood. The oxen fear him.
   Obligation: He was once a mason. The ancestors cursed him. If you lift the curse (a ritual at the Keystone Chamber), he will give you a Green Pact.
   Cost of aid: An acorn from his grove. Planting it ticks Root-binder Attention +2.

5. Aeler Engineer — Tuning fork in one hand, level in the other. She can hear a crack in a bearing from a mile away. She never walks under a keystone.
   Obligation: She lost her tuning fork in a roller-pit. Find it, and she will repair any bearing for free.
   Cost of aid: A story about a machine that failed. She is collecting evidence for a case against the High Council.

6. Ox-Master — Whip of braided leather, voice like a landslide. He names his oxen after dead masons. The oxen stop when he speaks their names.
   Obligation: One ox is sick. He needs a herb that grows only in Root-binder groves. If you fetch it, he will give you an Ox-Master’s Whip.
   Cost of aid: A day of driving the oxen. On a Miss, the team bolts — tick Migration Timer  − 1.

7. Ancestral Healer (Izinyanga) — Reads the cracks in the keystone, speaks for the dead. She wears a necklace of ground quartz. The ancestors whisper through the stones.
   Obligation: The ancestors have gone silent. She needs a sacrifice — a memory of a city that fell. If you give one, she will interpret a keystone crack for you (gain a Clue).
   Cost of aid: A drop of your blood on the keystone. The ancestors will remember your face.

8. Tokoloshe Catcher — Old woman, blind in one eye, carries a clay pot. She traps tokoloshe in her pots. They sing when shaken. She uses their songs to find sabotage.
   Obligation: A tokoloshe escaped. Catch it, and she will give you a Tokoloshe Pot (once, +1 die to detect sabotage).
   Cost of aid: A day of listening. The tokoloshe’s song will give you nightmares (GM gains 1 SB).

9. Impundulu Tamer — A legendary bird-whisperer, with scars from lightning. He can call the lightning bird with a whistle. It demands payment: the blood of a mason.
   Obligation: He is bound to the bird. If you pay its price (1 Supply of raw meat), he will call the bird for you once.
   Cost of aid: A scar. The bird will remember your face — the GM may spend 1 SB to have it appear in a storm.

10. Impi Captain — Warrior of the city’s flank guard, carrying a shield of braided leather. She lost two fingers to a Root-binder ambush. She still holds her spear with the remaining three.
    Obligation: She wants revenge on the Root-binder who took her fingers. If you help her, she will fight beside you in any city battle.
    Cost of aid: A spear throw. On a Miss, you hit an ox — tick Roller Integrity  − 1.

11. The First Mason’s Ghost — A translucent figure in a mason’s apron. He appears when a keystone is first laid. He offers advice. The advice is always wrong.
    Obligation: He wants his name carved on a keystone. If you do, he will grant you a Stone-Song Fragment.
    Cost of aid: His advice. Follow it, and the keystone will crack (tick Roller Integrity  − 2).

12. The Ninth Ox — A mythic beast said to pull the First City. Its hooves never touch the ground. It walks on the shadow of clouds.
    Obligation: It has no obligation — it is a legend. If you see it, you may ask one question about the First City. The answer is always a riddle.

13. Bearing-Caster (Aeler) — A dwarf who pours molten metal into roller-molds. He signs each bearing with his own thumbprint. The thumbprint is a prayer.
    Obligation: He lost his mold to a tokoloshe. Recover it, and he will cast a bearing for free.
    Cost of aid: A thumbprint. He will remember your face — the GM may spend 1 SB to have his prayer answered against you.

14. The Still Voice — A spirit made of silence and cold stone. It asks: “Why did you stop?” Answer truthfully, or it will never let you leave.
    Obligation: It collects the names of cities that stopped. If you give it a name, it will answer one question about that city’s fate.
    Cost of aid: A name. The Still Voice will whisper it to the Hollow — the GM gains a String on the city you named.

(Crack/Sabotage/Tremor)

A keystone cracks — the city stops; Root-binder sabotage — a wheel jams; an earth tremor (all actions Desperate for a scene).

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Cracked Keystone — The heart of the city fractures. The city stops. The crack is singing. The song is the name of the mason who carved it. He is long dead.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Roller Integrity  − 2. If Roller Integrity reaches 0, the city stops and the Still Voice appears (roll on its table). The crack can be sealed with a mason’s promise (a story or a memory).

3. Root-binder Sabotage — Acorns sprout in the roller-pits. A wheel jams. The roots are intelligent. They twist toward the sound of oaths.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Root-binder Attention +1. To clear the jam, a character must swear an oath (any oath). Swearing ticks Ancestor Favor  − 1. Breaking it later ticks  − 3.

4. Earth Tremor — The ground shakes. All actions are Desperate for a scene. The tremor was not natural. The Still Voice is waking.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Ancestor Favor  − 1. On a Miss, a roller slips — tick Roller Integrity  − 1. The party may offer a sacrifice (1 Supply) to calm the tremor.

5. Mason-Kin Feud — Two Houses argue over the next migration route. The argument is carved into the keystone. The stone is splitting.
   Mechanical hook: The party must choose a side or mediate. Choosing a side gives an ally but ticks Migration Timer  − 2 (the other House sabotages the route). Mediating requires Presence+Sway DV 5; on failure, both Houses turn against you.

6. Oxen Plague — A sickness spreads through the teams. Speed halves. The sickness came from a Root-binder’s grove. The leaves are in the fodder.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Migration Timer  − 1 per day until cured. Cure requires a Medicine test (DV 5) or a Root-binder’s blessing (costs 1 Supply and ticks Root-binder Attention +1).

7. Bearing Failure (Aeler) — A roller seizes. The engineer blames the stone-cutter. The bearing was sabotaged with dust from the Salt Scar. The dust whispers.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Roller Integrity  − 1. The engineer demands a replacement bearing (1 Supply) or a public apology. Refusal starts a Engineer’s Grudge [4] timer.

8. Sledge-Track Collapse — The ground gives way. A section of the city sinks. The collapse reveals an older city buried beneath. The older city is still walking.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Migration Timer  − 2. The party may explore the older city (a mini-dungeon). Each scene there ticks Ancestor Favor  − 1 (the dead are restless).

9. Migration Blockade — Another city has stopped on the planned route. The stopped city’s keystone is dead. Its people have become Root-binders.
   Mechanical hook: The party must negotiate with the Root-binders (Presence+Sway DV 5) or clear a path (Craft test, DV 6). Failure ticks Migration Timer  − 3 (detour).

10. Ancestral Claim Called — A Mason-Kin House demands a sledge-right from a century ago. The right is carved on a tablet of slate. The slate is warm. The ancestors are watching.
    Mechanical hook: Pay 2 Supply or offer a hostage (a PC becomes a temporary follower of the House). Refusal ticks Ancestor Favor  − 2 and starts a Feud of the Slate [6].

11. Tokoloshe in the Bearings — A water spirit fouls the roller-pits. The city groans. The tokoloshe is small, fast, and invisible to the unaware. Only a catcher can see it.
    Mechanical hook: Tick Roller Integrity  − 1 per scene until caught. Catching requires a tokoloshe catcher (NPC) or a Wits+Spirit test DV 5. On failure, the tokoloshe escapes — tick again.

12. Impundulu Strikes — A lightning bird shatters a keystone with a thunderous blow. The bird is angry. Someone broke a vow to the Rain Queen. The city bleeds stone.
    Mechanical hook: Tick Roller Integrity  − 3. The bird demands a sacrifice: the blood of a mason (1 Harm to a PC) or a vow renewal (swear an oath to the Rain Queen). Refusal ticks Ancestor Favor  − 3.

13. Root-binder Revolt — A grove of walking trees attacks the roller-pits. The trees have stone bark. The stones are carved with Mason-Kin faces.
    Mechanical hook: Combat (Cap 3 adversary). If the party loses, the city stops for 1d4 days. If they win, tick Root-binder Attention to zero — the grove burns, but the Hollow’s attention ticks +2.

14. The First City Approaches — A city older than memory appears on the horizon. It is made of obsidian. Its rollers are giant femurs. It wants to merge.
    Mechanical hook: The party has one scene to flee or negotiate. Merging cities will erase both identities — the party loses all Ngomebe Assets. If they flee, tick Migration Timer  − 5 (the First City chases them).

(Charter/Wax/Song)

Keystone charter (right to dwell in a city for a season); sledge-wax (greases negotiation with the Mason-Kin); stone-song fragment (one reroll on a survival test).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Keystone Charter — Right to dwell in a city for a season, tax-free. The charter is a chip of the keystone itself. Carry it to be welcomed.
   Hidden cost: If you break the charter’s terms (e.g., harm a mason), the chip turns to dust and you gain the Condition Stone-Cursed ( − 1 die on all rolls involving Ngomebe for a year).

3. Sledge-Wax — A lump of gray grease. Use it to gain +1 Position in Mason-Kin negotiations. The wax is rendered from the fat of an ox that walked a thousand miles.
   Hidden cost: The ox’s ghost follows you. Once per session, the GM may have it low at an inopportune moment (tick Migration Timer  − 1).

4. Stone-Song Fragment — A recorded hum. Reroll a failed Survival test once. The song is the city’s heartbeat. Hum it, and the stone will guide you.
   Hidden cost: Humming the song ticks Ancestor Favor  − 1 (the dead are listening). If you use it in a city that has stopped, the Still Voice appears.

5. Roller-Bearing (Aeler-crafted) — A spare bearing. Gift it to an engineer for a favor. The bearing is stamped with a rune that means “no burden marked.” The rune is a lie.
   Hidden cost: Using the bearing voids the lie — the engineer will remember. The GM may spend 1 SB to have the bearing fail at a critical moment.

6. Mason-Kin Hammer — A tool that never misses a keystone’s true face. The hammer’s head is a piece of the First City’s keystone. It whispers warnings.
   Hidden cost: The hammer whispers to the Hollow. Each time you use it, tick Ancestor Favor  − 1. When Ancestor Favor reaches 0, the hammer shatters.

7. Ox-Master’s Whip — Crack it to make oxen move faster for one leg. The whip’s braid includes a hair from every ox that ever pulled a city.
   Hidden cost: The whip angers the oxen’s ghosts. After use, the next stampede is automatic (GM may spend 1 SB to trigger it).

8. Root-binder’s Acorn — Plant it to stop a city’s roller for one day. The acorn grows into a sapling within an hour. The sapling has stone roots.
   Hidden cost: Planting the acorn ticks Root-binder Attention +2 and Ancestor Favor  − 2 (the ancestors see it as betrayal). The acorn can be removed only by a Root-binder’s blessing.

9. Abandoned City Map — A chart of dead cities and their keystone graves. The map is drawn on stone. The stone is a page. The pages are bound in granite.
   Hidden cost: The map is haunted. Each time you consult it, roll 1d6. On a 1, the Still Voice appears (roll on its table). On a 6, you find a forgotten keystone — gain 1 Supply.

10. Elder’s Verdict — A ruling that settles a Mason-Kin dispute in your favor. The verdict is carved on a slate tablet. Carry it as a shield.
    Hidden cost: The losing House will remember. Start a Vendetta [6] timer. When it fills, they sabotage your city.

11. Bearing-Foundry Pass — Access to the Aeler mobile forge for one repair. The pass is a single steel coin. The coin is still hot.
    Hidden cost: The forge is a witness. If you use the pass for a dishonest repair, the coin burns your hand — mark 1 Harm and the engineer will never trust you again.

12. Still Voice’s Silence — One question answered truthfully by the spirit of abandoned stone. The answer comes as a cold breath. The breath smells of geode crystals.
    Hidden cost: After the answer, the Still Voice marks you. Tick Ancestor Favor  − 2. The Voice will ask you a question in return; you must answer truthfully or lose 1 XP.

13. First City’s Echo — A piece of obsidian that hums with ancient rhythm. Once per campaign, touch it to make a city move one mile in a single night.
    Hidden cost: Using the Echo ticks Ancestor Favor  − 4 (the First City’s ancestors are disturbed). The city that moves will be haunted by the Echo’s ghost for a year (GM gains 1 SB per session).

14. The Living Keystone — A fragment from a city that still walks. Plant it in dead stone, and a new city will grow. The growth takes a century.
    Hidden cost: The keystone is alive. It will demand a blood-price (1 Harm per year of growth). Refusal turns it to dust — the Hollow takes your name.

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, wax, songs) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo stone-omens—rollers that groan in harmony, keystones that weep water, a city that leaves no track.

• Track the Migration Timer [10], Roller Integrity [8], Ancestor Favor [8], and Root-binder Attention [6] as campaign-wide pressures.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• The Keystone Bond (Relationship Mechanic): Each walking city has a Keystone — a single stone that bears the weight of the roof. The Keystone is also the physical anchor of the city’s ancestral spirit. A character who bonds with the Keystone (by spending a downtime scene in meditation at its base) gains:

  • Keystone Sense: Once per scene, the character can ask the Keystone one question about the city’s current state (“Is the eastern roller cracking?” “Is there a saboteur in the foundry?”). The Keystone answers truthfully, but only about the present.

  • Keystone Weight: The character gains a 4-segment Ancestor’s Attention timer. When it fills, the ancestor demands a service — usually a pilgrimage to a forgotten quarry or the retrieval of a lost roller.

• The Roller-Pits (Hazard Mechanic): The city moves on rollers — massive wooden cylinders that must be greased and rotated. The roller-pits are dangerous, loud, and prone to sabotage.

  • Entering a roller-pit requires a Body + Athletics test (DV 4) to avoid being crushed. On a failure, the character takes 1 Harm.

  • Sabotaging a roller-pit (to stop the city or redirect it) requires a Wits + Craft test (DV 5). On a success, the city moves in the desired direction; on a failure, the roller jams and the city stops — and the ancestors are angry.

  • Repairing a jammed roller takes 3 actions. Each action requires a Body + Craft test (DV 4). On a failure, the roller shifts and the character takes 1 Fatigue.

• The Migration Timer (Campaign Timer , size 10): Every walking city has a Migration Timer . It advances each day the city moves, and retreats when the city stops.

  • At 2: The city enters fertile land. The party gains +1 die to foraging and hunting.

  • At 4: The city passes a rival settlement. The party may trade or raid.

  • At 6: The city enters a narrow pass. All navigation rolls are Desperate.

  • At 8: The city approaches a sacred site. The ancestors grow restless — all rolls involving the Keystone gain +1 die, but failure ticks the Ancestor’s Attention timer by 2.

  • At 10: The city reaches its destination — the end of the migration. The ancestors are satisfied. The party may claim a Keystone Blessing (a permanent +1 die to all rolls involving stonework or negotiation with Ngomebe).

  The party can influence the Migration Timer by:

  • Scouting ahead (Wits + Lore) — success advances the timer by 1, failure ticks it back by 1.

  • Repairing rollers (Craft test) — success advances the timer by 2, failure advances it by 0 but ticks the Ancestor’s Attention.

  • Paying tribute (a Honey Jar, a story, or a Boon) — advances the timer by 1 without risk.

• The Root-binder Heresy (Faction Mechanic): Root-binders are heretics who plant acorns in the roller-pits, hoping to stop the cities and let the forest reclaim the stone. They have a Sabotage Timer (size 6). Each time the party fails a Craft or Insight roll in a roller-pit, the Sabotage Timer ticks.

  • At 2: A roller cracks. The city loses 1 Speed (travel takes longer).

  • At 4: A roller-pit floods. The city must stop for repairs (lose 1 day).

  • At 6: A major collapse. The city cannot move until the party clears the pit (requires a Strength + Craft test, DV 5, and costs 1 day).

  Players can work with the Root-binders (gain information, sabotage rival cities) or against them (hunt them, protect the rollers). The Root-binders offer Green Blessings — a permanent +1 die to survival in the forest, but the forest’s attention tightens (the Hollow’s gaze falls more often).

• The Mason-Kin Houses: The walking cities are not nations but extended families. Each House controls a keystone, a migration route, and the rights to carve. Houses feud over sledge-tracks, water rights, and the honor of the First City.

• The Aeler Pact: The Aeler engineers of the southern ranges maintain the bearings and capstans that make the walking cities possible. The Ngomebe provide keystone hearts and stone-song. It is a partnership of equals, sealed in slate and iron.

• Ancestral Cracks: Once per session, a character may press their ear to a keystone and roll Spirit + Lore (DV 3). On success, the ancestors whisper a warning or a clue (GM reveals a hidden complication or a shortcut). On a miss, the stone is silent — but the ancestors are listening.

• Tokoloshe Pots: A character who carries a clay pot with a tokoloshe inside gains +1 die to detect sabotage or traps in the city. The tokoloshe sings when danger is near. However, if the pot breaks, the tokoloshe escapes and will haunt the carrier for a full season (all actions Desperate at night).

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The First Stone — The Sealed Gate. The keystone that never cracks; the oath that never breaks.

  • The Rain Queen — Raéyn. The bringer of storms and the drought; the mistress of the path.

  • The Lightning Bird — The Storm King. The shatterer of false keystones; the judge of masons.

  • The Ancestor’s Voice — The Witness. The whisper in the crack; the memory in the stone.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• Umbhemisi and the Salt Scar: The Cracking Wind is said to be the ghost of the First City, ground into dust by its own stubbornness. Some Ngomebe elders believe that if a city ever stops moving for nine generations, the Wind will reclaim it entirely. The Root-binders whisper that the Wind is not a curse but a teacher: it cracks only the stone that refuses to grow.

• The Sledge-Wax Trade (Way of Silk): Sledge-wax is a valuable commodity on the caravan routes. Tulkani merchants trade it for story-knots; Fhara water-clerks use it to seal well-contracts. A missing shipment of sledge-wax could stop a city.

• The Iron Mines of Vajrapur (Dhahara): The Aeler engineers of Ngomebe source their bearing-metal from the Dhaharan iron mines. A dispute between a Mason-Kin House and a Dhaharan raja could choke the supply of rollers.

• The Hollow and the Still City (Eastern Realms): The Hollow is attracted to still places. A city that stops moving becomes a beacon. The Aelaerem whisper that the First City never stopped because it is running from something — and that something may be the Cracking Wind itself.

• Tokoloshe and the Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord sometimes capture tokoloshe and weave them into Hollowed children. The tokoloshe inside the child sings when a weight is overdue. The Ngomebe avoid Daughter-run hospices for this reason.

• Sekogo’s Ukwe Roots: The Ukwe’s roots are said to extend beneath the southern savanna. A Ngomebe mason who dreams of roots cracking her keystone knows that a bond to the Speaking Tree has come due.

• Aelinnel Bone-Spinners: The coastal gnomes who roll the dawn bones never explain why a failed roll sometimes sounds like a cracked keystone. The Ngomebe have learned to listen to both.

Ngomebe Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Roller: Crumble a crust into the grease-pit. Ignore the first Earth Tremor penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Sledge-Rope: Tie a single knot in an ox’s halter. Cancel Oxen Plague or take  − 1 die on your next handling roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Keystone: Whisper a dead mason’s name into the keystone’s crack. Gain +1 Effect when negotiating with the Mason-Kin this scene, but the ancestors will expect an answer. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Mason-Kin guards or Aeler engineers.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby ox-drivers or stone-cutters.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for Root-binders or keystone guardians.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable migration pace.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Mason-Kin elder or Aeler vent-prior becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to earth tremor or roller jam.

• Foe Appears: A Root-binder cell or rival House guard 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 Mason-Kin, Root-binders, or Aeler engineers arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—keystone cracks/city stops/First City sighted.

• 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: Mason-Kin High Council, Still Voice, or First City’s herald intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—tremor opens a chasm/city splits in two/keystone begins to sing.

• 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

• Ngomebe (Stone Law): Keystone hums a warning, roller-grooves glow faintly, the ground trembles without quake.

• Ngomebe (Root-binder Heresy): Acorns sprout from cracks, vines write warnings in the dust, trees move against the wind.

• Ngomebe (Aeler Pact): Bearings click in counterpoint, tuning forks ring without being struck, the smell of hot metal hangs in still air.

• Ngomebe (Ancestral Spirits): A cold breath whispers a name, the keystone weeps water, a tokoloshe laugh echoes from a dry roller-pit.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

• Cut the Sledge (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a keystone charter is in your possession, +1 die.

• Weather the Tremor (Body + Athletics): On a hit in Earth Tremor, you pick who stays standing; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Stone & Root)

• The Root-King (Nine Groves) — Phases: Acorn Sabotage → Orchestrated Stillness → Forest Coup. Cracks: burn a grove, expose a false acorn, survive a landslide.

• The Still Voice (Silence of Stone) — Phases: Abandoned Keystones → Procession of Dead Cities → Stillness Baptism of an Elder. Cracks: relic stone-song, survivor testimony, the city moving against the Voice.

• The Tokoloshe King (Master of Tricksters) — Phases: Bearings Foul → Roller Pit Flooded → Oxen Stampede. Cracks: trap him in a clay pot, negotiate with a pot of sorghum beer, feed him a false name.

• Umbhemisi (The Cracking Wind) — Phases: Dust on the Horizon → The Song of Rust → The Stillness of Bone. Cracks: offer a forgotten keystone, speak the name of a city that never stopped, or let a mason carve a new oath into the Salt Scar.

Among the Ngomebe, power flows through keystones, migration rights, and the loyalty of the Mason-Kin Houses. An elder’s authority rests on the age of his House’s keystone and the number of cities that follow his route. The Aeler engineers hold technical authority; the Root-binders offer a heretical alternative; and the Ancestral Healers speak for the dead, who still vote through the cracks in the stone.

For the GM: Power in Ngomebe society is measured in movement and stone. Patronage often takes the form of keystone charters, sledge-wax, or stone-song fragments—each tied to a specific city and House. To emphasize this:

• Tie rewards to physical tokens (chips of keystone, lumps of wax, recorded songs) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided.

• Let rival Houses issue conflicting claims, forcing players to choose whose city shelters them.

• Use the roller-pits, keystone chambers, and Mason-Kin halls as arenas for social contests, where migration routes are debated and saboteurs are judged.

• Introduce Ancestral Cracks as a way for players to gain clues from the dead — but at the cost of the ancestors’ attention.

In Ngomebe society, the stone remembers everything — including the weight you carry. The ancestors do not forget. The tokoloshe does not forgive. And the city that stops dies.

The Hook

The party arrives at the edge of a moving city — not one of the great metropolises, but a smaller Walker named Khomani’s Progress, named after the mason who carved its keystone three centuries ago. The city is dying.

Elder Morvath meets you at the sledge-track, his face gray with granite dust and exhaustion. “The city has not stopped in forty days. We cannot stop. The ancestors will not let us. But the rollers are cracking. The oxen are dying. And something is following us — something that walks in the dust and counts our breaths.”

He leads you to the keystone chamber. The great stone is warm. Too warm. A network of fine cracks spreads from its center like veins. The cracks are singing — a low, mournful hum in a language none of you recognize.

“The Ninth Roller is failing,” Morvath says. “It was carved by Khomani herself. It has never been replaced. If it fails, the city stops. If the city stops, the Hollow comes. We have nine days until the roller cannot turn. Find a replacement — or learn to sing the stone-song well enough to heal it.”

The Mechanics

The party has nine days (or scenes) to save Khomani’s Progress. Each day, they may choose one action from the table below. The city’s condition is tracked by three timers:

Daily Actions

Each day, the party chooses one primary action and may assign up to two party members to support (each support grants +1 die to the primary roll).

The Pursuing Threat

On the third day, the party discovers what has been following the city: a Dust Walker — a spirit of abandoned keystones, drawn to cities that have lost their way. It is the size of a man but made of swirling red dust, with hollow eyes that weep sand. It does not speak. It does not need to. It simply follows, counting the days.

Dust Walker — Phase Timer [6]

• At 2 segments: The dust grows thick. All navigation rolls at  − 1 die.

• At 4 segments: The Walker appears at the edge of camp. It points at a party member. That member gains the Marked condition (the Walker will target them first in a confrontation).

• At 6 segments: The Walker attacks. Treat as a boss with Phases: Counting → Marking → Claiming. Cracks: Offer it a forgotten keystone, speak the name of a city that chose to stop, or let it witness a true act of ancestral honor.

Root-binder Negotiation

The Root-binders are led by a woman named Nomvula’s Shadow (no relation to the Rain Queen — she took the name in defiance). She offers a deal:

“Let the city stop. Plant acorns in the rollers. The forest will take the stone. Your people will become tree-kin. You will never hunger again. The Hollow does not walk among roots.”

The party can:

• Accept — The city stops. The party gains the Green Pact (permanent +1 die to survival in forests, but the Hollow’s attention increases by 1 each session). The Mason-Kin will never forgive you.

• Refuse — Root-binder Attention ticks +2 immediately. The Root-binders will sabotage one roller per day until the timer fills.

• Bargain — Offer a Keystone Charter or a Stone-Song Fragment. The Root-binders will delay their attack for 3 days and offer one Green Blessing (a single use of their acorn magic).

Ancestor Appeasement

The ancestors are angry because the city’s last mason, a woman named Phendu, died without passing on the stone-song. Her ghost haunts the keystone chamber, singing the melody but forgetting the final note.

To appease the ancestors, the party must:

1. Find Phendu’s apprentice — A one-eyed woman named Sola, now living as a Root-binder outcast. She knows the final note but refuses to sing it because the Mason-Kin exiled her.

2. Convince Sola to return — Requires a Presence + Sway test (DV 6). On success, she returns and teaches the final note. On failure, she demands a price: the party must cut a promise to the Mason-Kin (lose one Keystone Charter or equivalent).

3. Sing the full stone-song at the keystone — Requires a Spirit + Performance test (DV 5). On success, Ancestor Favor fills completely, and the keystone cracks heal. On failure, the ancestors are offended — Roller Integrity  − 2 immediately.

Possible Outcomes

Reward Table

Taharka

The Monsoon Crown.

The passes remember every army that tried to climb them. The mountains do not forgive haste, and they do not forget a foreign banner. We do not guard the highlands. We listen to them. They tell us who to let through.

I am a Horse Trader. Before you praise the rider, praise the horse. Before you praise the horse, praise the mountain that grew its lungs. A Taharkan foal is born breathing thin air. That is why our cavalry has never been broken.

Taharka grows rich on monsoon trade—spices, coffee, and incense that travel east to the distant ocean and west to the Gulf. The kingdom has never been conquered; its passes are a graveyard for Ashaani armies and a barrier that Oshiiran grain barges cannot cross. The highlands are a fortress of rock and thin air, where every valley speaks a different dialect and every ridge has a watchtower. But here’s the secret the Crown Council doesn’t want you to know: the passes are alive. They have a memory. They remember every army that tried to climb them, every foreign banner that flew too high, every oath that was broken at the summit. And they do not forgive.

The Ridge-Watchers are the eyes of the kingdom, stationed in rock-chapels that double as signal towers. The horse is not a mount; it is a lineage, a treaty, a weapon. To control the highland breeds is to control the passes—and to control the passes is to remain free. The lowland coast operates under a different law: the ujamaa of the dhows, a mutual aid network where every captain owes a share of every voyage to the community. A captain who cheats the ujamaa finds his ship’s name struck from every mooring post in the archipelago.

Never refuse a second cup of tea. The first is hospitality; the second is a test of honor. The third is a promise. Refuse the second, and you have insulted the house—and the house’s ancestors, who are listening through the floorboards.

— Ridge-Watcher Captain Anwar, who has not descended below the snow line in twenty years

What do people eat for breakfast? Barley flatbread and spiced tea—the bread is baked on iron griddles, the tea is brewed with cardamom and mountain herbs. The herbs are harvested from passes that only the Ridge-Watchers know. The Ridge-Watchers do not share.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To read the wind. Taharkan children are taught the eight winds by name: North, South, East, West, Monsoon, Dry, Storm, and the ninth—the wind that has no name. The ninth wind is the mountain’s breath. The mountain’s breath is death.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their breath. The air is thin in Taharka. A stranger who breathes too fast has not acclimated. A stranger who breathes too slow is hiding something. A stranger who does not breathe at all is a spirit. The spirits are not to be spoken to.

What is the most common crime? Horse theft—but horse theft is not a crime, it is a declaration of war. The horse is the kingdom’s bloodline. A stolen horse is a stolen ancestor. The thief’s clan is responsible. The clan pays in blood or in trade. The trade is never enough. The blood is always too much.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Crown Council has not met in ten years. The passes have been closed by snow, by war, by the simple fact that the councillors cannot agree on a meeting place. The kingdom is ruled by the Ridge-Watchers. The Ridge-Watchers are not elected. The Ridge-Watchers are the mountains’ voice. The mountains are silent.

Where do people go when they die? To the high passes. The dead are laid on stone platforms, wrapped in woollen shrouds. The wind takes them. The wind carries their names to the peaks. The peaks remember. The peaks are the kingdom’s cemetery.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a horse—the best horse in your stable. The horse is given to the wronged party. If they accept, the debt is paid. If they refuse, the debt is doubled. If they kill the horse, the debt is blood. Blood is never repaid.

What is the most important festival? The First Rain (monsoon’s arrival). The passes open for the first time in months. The caravans descend from the highlands. The lowland ports receive the first spice ships. The celebration lasts nine days. The ninth day is silent. The silence is for the dead of the passes.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Crown Council’s missing member is not missing. He is buried under a landslide that was not an accident. The landslide was caused by the Ridge-Watchers. The councillor had learned the passes’ secret: they are not natural. They were carved by something older. The something is still there. The Ridge-Watchers are its servants.

Taharka — “The Monsoon Crown”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Adur-Gah

Quick Reference

Tagline: The mountain listens. The horse remembers. The monsoon keeps the balance.

Ridge-Watcher Captain (Elite): “The passes remember every army that tried to climb them. The mountains do not forgive haste, and they do not forget a foreign banner. We do not guard the highlands. We listen to them. They tell us who to let through.”

Horse Trader (Commoner): “Before you praise the rider, praise the horse. Before you praise the horse, praise the mountain that grew its lungs. A Taharkan foal is born breathing thin air, and each foal carries a fumbo—a riddle from its ancestor’s death. To ride it, you must answer. To answer wrong is to fall. To answer true is to be remembered.”

Genre / Mood: Monsoon trade, highland fortresses, spirit-ridden passes, oral law.

Starting Location: A rock-chapel at the head of the Silver Pass, where the air is cold and the wind smells of snow. A Ridge-Watcher captain blows a horn of ibex horn: “The Crown Council has declared a muster. The passes are closing to all foreign traffic. You have until dusk to declare your business—or turn back. The mizimu are restless. They taste fear on the wind.”

Taharka grows rich on monsoon trade—spices, coffee, and frankincense that travel east to the distant ocean and west to the Gulf. The kingdom has never been conquered; its passes are a graveyard for Ashaani armies and a barrier that Oshiiran grain barges cannot cross. The highlands are a fortress of rock and thin air, where every valley speaks a different dialect and every ridge has a watchtower. On the coast, the monsoon winds bring dhows from Dhahara, Ayokha, and the eastern isles, and the coastal tongue—Kimvita—has grown from a dozen voices, the language of the wharves where a merchant can bargain in verse and a captain can curse in seven accents.

The old spirits are not a single kind. Mizimu watch from the cairns, demanding tobacco and silence. Kichocheo live in baobabs—they throw stones at anyone who counts to nine beneath their branches. Pepo ride the monsoon winds; they speak through the mad, and they always require a white turban left at a crossroads. In the deepest passes, the popobawa hunts at the dark of the moon—but only if you whispered its name in doubt the night before. And the passes themselves are alive, breathing with the memory of every army that froze or fell.

What you notice first: The smell of roasting coffee and frankincense. The way the air thins as you climb, until each breath is a measured gift. The constant lowing of pack mules on terraced paths.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never refuse the second cup of coffee. The first (Abol) is welcome; the second (Tona) is a test of honor; the third (Baraka) is a bond. Refuse the second, and you have insulted the house—and the house’s ancestors, who listen through the floorboards. And never, ever pour the fourth cup—that is for the mzimu of the hearth, and they are always thirsty.

In Taharka, the ninth wind has no name. It is the mountain’s breath, and the Hollow rides it. When the ninth wind blows, the passes close without warning, and the popobawa walks. Those who hear it must speak a true name aloud or lose their shadow for a season. The ninth cup of coffee is never poured; the ninth door of the Crown Council Hall is sealed; and the ninth wave of the monsoon carries the voices of the drowned. To count to nine on a high pass is to invite the kinyamkera to point at you.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Pass

Power here is measured in passes, horse lineages, and the favor of the monsoon. The Crown Council rules from the high plateau, but each valley has its own lord, each pass its own toll-keeper. The Ridge-Watchers are the eyes of the kingdom, stationed in rock-chapels that double as signal towers. The horse is not a mount; it is a lineage, a treaty, a weapon. To control the highland breeds is to control the passes—and to control the passes is to remain free. The lowland coast operates under a different law: the mchango of the dhows, a rotating circle of mutual aid where every captain offers a share of every voyage to the community. A captain who breaks the mchango finds his ship’s name struck from the laha ya meli (ship register), and the mng’aro of the wharf will point at him every dusk until he makes it right.

Prominent NPCs of Taharka

Names of Taharka

Inspired by the highland plateau and the coast: melodic, with doubled consonants, honorific prefixes (Mwalimu, Bibi, Bwana), and surnames that denote a clan, a pass, or a horse-line.

(Farm/Chapel/Pass)

Terraced coffee farm on stone steps; rock-chapel where walls drip condensation; high pass where snow lingers even in summer.

Spades — Places

2. Terraced Farm (Coffee) — Shrubs planted on stone-step shelves. Each step is a different family’s share—reckoned in beans, not coin. The buna-gada terrace is harvested only once every eight years, at the turn of the gada cycle. ‘[LABOR]‘

3. Rock-Chapel (Dripping) — A cave-temple where the walls weep condensation. Drink from the eighth stone, not the ninth. The water tastes of iron and old promises. A kichocheo lives in the drip. ‘[RITUAL]‘

4. High Pass (Summer Snow) — A saddle between peaks where the wind never stops. The snow is blue—the frozen breath of the dead. The kinyamkera walks here at dusk, pointing with its spoon. ‘[WEATHER]‘

5. King’s Stable — A long building of fitted stone, horses in brass halters. Each stall has a nameplate—a defeated enemy’s shield. To bond with a horse, you must answer its fumbo (riddle). ‘[LEGEND]‘

6. Spice Warehouse (Coast) — A wood-and-coral building that smells of cardamom. The floor is layered with spices that fell from broken sacks. The ghosts of porters sort them at night—they ask no pay, only the rustle of a kanga cloth. ‘[TRADE]‘

7. Monsoon Wharf — A stone pier that is underwater half the year. Each tide mark is a year when a ship never returned. The sailors’ widows add new marks with their tears. The mng’aro of the wharf appears there on moonless nights. ‘[DEATH]‘

8. Crown Council Hall — A roundhouse of stone and horn, built into a hillside. The hall has nine doors. Each door leads to a different valley. The ninth door is sealed. Behind it is a spider that weaves the future—but it only weaves at the turn of the gada. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘

9. Horse Cemetery — A field of cairns, each topped with a bronze bell. The bells ring when a foal is born to the same bloodline. The dead horses speak through the bells—their advice is always a fumbo. ‘[DEATH]‘

10. Ridge-Watcher Tower — A stone needle on a peak, with a signal fire that never goes out. The fire burns blue when the passes are closed. It burns green when a foreign army is sighted. It burns red when a popobawa walks. ‘[WARNING]‘

11. Coastal Tongue School — A thatched hut where children learn Kimvita. The teacher is a one-eyed sailor. He signs his lessons with knots, not words. The knots are a map of the monsoon winds. ‘[SOCIAL]‘

12. The Spirit-Healer’s Observatory — A roofless tower with a bronze armillary sphere. The sphere has nine rings. The ninth ring is broken. The mganga refuses to fix it—he says the ninth wind has no name. ‘[MAGIC]‘

13. The Pass of the Ninth Army — A defile where an Ashaani host froze to the rock. On cold nights, you can still see their shapes in the ice. Their lips move—they are still counting. If they reach nine, the popobawa answers. ‘[DEATH]‘ ‘[FEAR]‘

14. The King’s Tomb (Hidden) — A cave sealed with a single keystone. The keystone has a single word carved in Kimvita: “Wait.” The word changes each gada season. Only the Ridge-Watchers know the current one. ‘[LEGEND]‘

(Trader/Watcher/Envoy)

Horse trader with a copper bell; Ridge-Watcher captain with a bow over his shoulder; Spice House merchant in robes smelling of cardamom.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Horse Trader — Copper bell on his belt, a long memory of bloodlines in his head. He states his terms in coffee, not coin. He knows every fumbo of every horse in the valley. ‘[TRADE]‘

3. Ridge-Watcher Captain — Bow of horn and sinew, arrows fletched with eagle feathers. He can draw a bow at full gallop. He has never missed. He says the mountain guides his hand—but he also leaves a pinch of tumbaku at every cairn. ‘[COMBAT]‘

4. Spice House Merchant — Robes stained with cinnamon, fingers yellow with turmeric. She can identify a spice’s origin by taste. She has been wrong twice. Both times, the ship sank. She no longer tastes alone—she shares the cup with a mzimu. ‘[TRADE]‘

5. Crown Council Envoy — Careful, neutral, carrying a staff of office carved from a single piece of ebony. He speaks in questions. “Would the honored traveler perhaps consent to…” The questions are traps. The answers are leverage. The staff is the bokku of the abba gada. ‘[POLITICS]‘

6. Coffee Farmer — Hands stained black from hulling beans, eyes crinkled from sun. He offers a cup to every passerby. The cup is clay—from a sacred spring. He never drinks first; that would insult the spirit of the bean. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘

7. Monsoon Captain — A sailor with a brass ring in one ear and a scar across his throat. He speaks the coastal tongue with a Dhaharan accent. His ship is named “Ninth Wind.” He has never lost a dhow to a storm—the storms are his cousins, because he holds to the mchango. ‘[TRAVEL]‘

8. Pass Guide — A hooded figure with a staff tipped with a horse skull. She never speaks above a whisper. The wind carries her voice exactly as far as needed. She knows every crevasse by the sound it makes when she spits into it—and which ones are actually the breath of a kinyamkera. ‘[STEALTH]‘

9. Sister Hana (Covenant Judge) — Gray robe, water-timer, a scale that never balances. She has ruled on nine border disputes. The losing party always apologizes. The winning party always shares their meal with her—and a cup of Baraka. ‘[JUSTICE]‘

10. Horse Lord Tamrat — Gray beard braided with horsehair, missing two fingers. The missing fingers were bitten off by a foal. He kept the foal. It is now his favorite mount. Its name is “Apology”—and its fumbo is unanswerable. ‘[SOCIAL]‘

11. The Spirit-Healer — Blind, pale, wrapped in wool. He smells of wax and ozone. He predicts the monsoon by the pulse of a luba drum. The drum has never been wrong. He feeds it his own dreams. ‘[MAGIC]‘

12. The Pass Spirit (Kinyamkera) — A column of steam in the cold air, shaped like a soldier. It points with a wooden spoon. The direction indicates the safest route—but the spoon is cold. If you take the spoon, you can ask one question of the dead. Your hand will freeze to it. ‘[DEATH]‘ ‘[WARNING]‘

13. The King (Offstage) — Never seen, rarely heard, but his name opens every door. Rumor says he is a horse. Rumor says he is a pepo. Rumor says he is a child of nine who never grew up. The Ridge-Watchers do not correct any rumor. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘

14. The Ninth Heir (Exiled) — A prince who lost a succession war, now living as a horse-trader. He carries a seal made of bone. The bone was his father’s thumb. He has not used it. He is waiting for the right moment—or the right fumbo. ‘[LEGEND]‘

(Landslide/Sickness/Assassination)

A landslide blocks the pass (delay 2 segments); horse sickness spreads—all mounts lose 1 Speed; the king is assassinated—passes close to all foreign traffic.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Landslide Block — A rockslide covers the pass. Delay 2 segments. ‘[WEATHER]‘ The rocks are warm. The landslide was caused by a signal fire on the peak. Someone wanted the pass closed—and they did not leave an offering at the kichocheo’s baobab.

3. Horse Sickness — A cough spreads through the stables. All mounts lose 1 Speed. ‘[DISEASE]‘ The sickness came from a Dhaharan ship. The captain is a spy. The horses cough in a rhythm that spells a fumbo—a warning about the ninth pass.

4. King Assassinated — The Crown Council declares a succession crisis. All passes close. ‘[POLITICS]‘ The assassin was a horse. The horse was poisoned. The poison was in the coffee—the Baraka cup. The horse is still alive. It will not speak.

5. Ashaani Raiders (Disguised) — A caravan of “merchants” is actually a Veiled Sister’s scout team. ‘[SPY]‘ They wear Taharkan dress but do not remove their shoes indoors. The innkeeper noticed. She poured them a fourth cup—the silence cup—and a pepo now follows them.

6. Coffee Blight — A fungus attacks the terraces. Prices triple. Starvation looms. ‘[DISASTER]‘ The blight was spread by a trader from the coast. The trader’s ship flew no flag. The fungus writes names on the leaves—the names of those who broke the gada oath.

7. Monsoon Delay — The winds shift. The first ships are three weeks late. ‘[WEATHER]‘ The delay was predicted by the spirit-healer. He warned the Crown. The Crown did not listen—they refused to uphold the mchango with the eastern fleets. The spirit-healer has stopped drumming.

8. Spice Warehouse Fire — A stack of cinnamon ignites. The whole wharf is at risk. ‘[DISASTER]‘ The fire was set by a rival House. The House has a monopoly on pepper. The smoke smells of cloves—but cloves do not burn. A mng’aro is laughing in the smoke.

9. Trade Creole Dispute — A pact is voided because of a mistranslated word. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The word means “shipment” in Kimvita and “hostage” in Kiamu. The merchant knew. The hostage is the party’s ally. The kinyamkera points at the merchant’s house.

10. Ridge-Watcher Betrayal — A captain sells the pass schedule to an Ashaani agent. ‘[SPY]‘ The captain’s daughter is a spirit-broken slave in Galanina. He had no choice. He carved her name into every stone of the pass—and now her mzimu walks there at dusk.

11. The Pass Spirit’s Warning — The kinyamkera points at a traveler. The traveler will die before sunset. ‘[DEATH]‘ ‘[OMEN]‘ The traveler is a party member. The spirit is pointing at a shadow, not a person. The shadow is not theirs. It belongs to a popobawa that has been following them since they doubted its name.

12. Crown Council Schism — The nine lords cannot agree on a successor. Civil war looms. ‘[POLITICS]‘ The ninth lord is a child. The child speaks only the coastal tongue. No one understands. The child’s nanny is the only interpreter—and she is not neutral. She is the abba gada of the skipped generation.

13. Horse Line Extinction — A plague kills the last mare of the royal bloodline. ‘[DEATH]‘ ‘[LEGEND]‘ The mare’s foal was stolen by a rival kingdom. The foal is in a Dhaharan stable. The mare’s ghost runs the passes every night, whinnying a fumbo that no one has answered.

14. Spirit Rising (Mzimu Uprising) — The old ancestors wake from the cairns. They demand a reckoning. ‘[MAGIC]‘ ‘[FEAR]‘ A traveler broke a taboo—they counted to nine near a spirit tree. The mizimu want a story that ends with eight. Tell one, or offer a lock of hair and a cup of tumbaku.

(Bond/Stone/Pass)

Horse-bond—a foal promised (future String); Jiwe la Mng’aro (“the gleam-stone”)—crossing a high pass at half toll; Kikombe cha Buna (coffee cup)—trade goods at  + 1 Position for one scene.

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Horse-Bond (Kiapo cha Farasi) — A future String. The foal has not yet been born. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘ The bond is a braid of horsehair, braided with a fumbo. Wear it, and the mare will remember you. When the foal is born, you will be its first rider—if you answer its riddle.

3. Pass-Stone (Jiwe la Mng’aro) — A carved token. Cross any high pass at half toll. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The stone is a piece of the kinyamkera’s spoon. It is cold to the touch. It warms when a storm is coming—and it burns if you have spoken a doubt about the popobawa.

4. Coffee Measure (Kikombe cha Buna, Royal Seal) — A clay cup. Trade goods at  + 1 Position for one scene. ‘[TRADE]‘ The cup was used by the king. He drank Baraka from it once. The crack is from his tooth. He still has the tooth—it is set in a ring that can open the ninth door.

5. Ridge-Watcher’s Horn — Blow it to summon a guide from the nearest tower. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The horn is made from an ibex that the captain killed with a single arrow. The ibex’s ghost will lead you—if you give it a story that ends with eight.

6. Spice House Letter of Credit — 5 Measures of trade value, redeemable at any coast warehouse. ‘[TRADE]‘ The letter is sealed with cinnamon oil. The seal smells of betrayal. It also smells of profit—and the mchango itself will honor it once before the ink dries.

7. Crown Council Verdict — A ruling in your favor on any border dispute. ‘[JUSTICE]‘ The verdict is carved on a slate tile. The tile is also a signal flag. Show it to a Ridge-Watcher, and they will argue for you—but they will also ask for a cup of Tona.

8. Monsoon Schedule (Spirit-Healer’s Copy) — Predicts safe sailing days for the next season. ‘[WEATHER]‘ The schedule is drummed into a clay cylinder. The cylinder must be kept in a jar of water. If the water dries, the predictions invert—and the luba will play a warning.

9. Coastal Tongue Phrasebook — Gain  + 1 die to all social rolls on the coast for one journey. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The phrasebook is a string of knots. Each knot is a curse. The curses are useful. The blessings are not—they are just knots tied by the one-eyed sailor’s ghost.

10. Horse Lord’s Favor — One foal from the royal stables, delivered in a year. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘ The favor is a single white hair from the stallion’s tail. The stallion is dead. The hair is still warm—and it answers to its fumbo only when the wind is from the north.

11. Pass Spirit’s Pointing — One safe route through any high pass, guaranteed. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The kinyamkera writes the route in frost on a rock. The frost melts at noon. You must memorize it before then—and you must leave the wooden spoon at the cairn.

12. The Spirit-Healer’s Drum (Luba) — A clay drum that pulses with the monsoon’s heartbeat. ‘[MAGIC]‘ Once per campaign, drum the luba to summon a pepo. The pepo will answer one question about the weather—but then it will ask a question of its own. The question is always personal.

13. The Ninth Heir’s Seal — A bone thumbprint. Commands loyalty from the exiled prince’s network. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The seal is also a key. It opens a lock in the Crown Council Hall. The lock is the ninth door. The door leads to a room with no floor—only a spider’s web that weaves the names of those who have broken the gada oath.

14. The King’s Blessing — A royal decree written in the coastal tongue. One national favor. ‘[LEGEND]‘ The decree is written on a horse’s hoof. The hoof was the king’s favorite mount. The king still weeps when he sees it—and the mount’s mzimu will carry you one night, but only if you answer its fumbo correctly.

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 (bonds, stones, measures) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo monsoon-omens—horses that speak in fumbo, coffee that tastes of snow, a pass that closes behind you, a luba drum that plays without a hand, a spider that weaves the future into its web.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Ridge-Watcher Signals: A network of signal towers on every peak. A fire, a mirror, or a horn can send a message across the entire kingdom in a day. The Ridge-Watchers are neutral in Crown politics; they serve only the passes. A character who spends an action to light a signal fire may reduce the next weather hazard by 1 segment, but the fire also attracts mizimu (GM gains 1 SB).

• Mchango of the Dhows (Mutual Aid): Along the coast, every captain contributes a fixed share to a rotating circle. A character who contributes to the mchango (by offering a share, repairing a dock, or telling a true story) gains a Community Favor token. Spend it to reroll a failed social roll with any coastal merchant or captain. Hoarding wealth without contributing, however, gives the GM 1 SB per session as the community closes ranks—and the mchango keeper may send a pepo to remind you.

• Spirit Taboos (Mwiko): The old spirits have specific taboos. Breaking a taboo (counting to nine near a kichocheo’s baobab, refusing a second cup of coffee, wearing shoes in a shrine) draws their attention. The GM may then spend 2 SB to have a spirit appear and demand a story that ends with the number eight. A good story pacifies the spirit; a poor one curses the offender with Mwiko ( − 1 die on all rolls until they make an offering of honey and blood).

• Horse Lineage as Fumbo (Riddle): Every highland horse belongs to a lineage that traces back to a legendary stallion—and each lineage has a fumbo, a riddle. Knowing a horse’s fumbo gives  + 1 die on social rolls with its owner. A character who can recite the fumbo of a horse from memory may treat the horse as a temporary ally (Cap 2) for one scene. Forging a lineage (inventing a false fumbo) is a capital crime—the Crown Council has executed three forgers in the last decade. Their ghosts guard the pass where they died, and their fumbo is unanswerable.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • Mzimu wa Kwanza (The First Spirit) – The Witness. The ancestor who remembers every oath, every betrayal, every cup of Tona refused.

  • Bwana wa Nyasi (Lord of the Grass) – The Traveler. The wind that guides the monsoon dhows and the rider lost in the high passes.

  • Shetani wa Tisa (The Spirit of Nine) – The Ninth. The presence that lives in the missing step, the uncounted wave, the breath after eight.

  • Bibi wa Kahawa (Grandmother of Coffee) – Inaea. The web of trade that binds coast to highlands, merchant to farmer, dhow to mule. Her fumbo is the answer to every broken promise.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Monsoon Trade (Dhahara/Ayokha): Taharka’s spice and coffee travel east on the monsoon winds, reaching the Dhaharan coast and the Ayokhan river markets. A delay in Taharka means famine in a dozen ports. The dhows are blessed by Bibi wa Kahawa; a captain who breaks the blessing finds his ship becalmed for nine days—and the mchango will not grant him a single sail.

• The Pass Spirit and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Kinyamkera is a spirit of the threshold—a border between living and dead. The Aelaerem say it is a cousin to the Hollow, bound by an oath to the first king. If you see it point at you, you have one day to set your affairs in order. The Hollow collects the rest—and the kinyamkera will take your spoon.

• Ashaani Spies and the Veiled Sisters (Ashaan): Ashaani agents often pose as spice merchants. The Ridge-Watchers have learned to test them by offering coffee—a foreigner who does not know the ritual of three cups (Abol, Tona, Baraka) reveals themselves. The Veiled Sisters have begun sending agents who have studied the ritual. The Ridge-Watchers are now testing with a fourth cup—the silence cup. Those who drink it are marked, and a pepo follows them.

• The Ninth Heir and the Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara): The exiled prince is rumored to have bought his horse from a Dhaharan smuggler—a horse that carried a certain green glass amulet. The Crown Council wants to know where the amulet is now. The prince says he traded it for a jiwe la mng’aro (pass-stone). The pass-stone is now in the hand of the spirit-healer—and its fumbo has not been answered.

Taharka Superstitions (burn for  + 1 die once)

• Bread to the Pass: Crumble a crust at the highest point of the pass. Ignore the first Landslide Block penalty. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Knot the Horse’s Tail: Tie a single knot in a horse’s tail hair. Cancel Horse Sickness or take  − 1 die on your next riding roll (your choice). ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

• Name to the Coffee: Whisper a dead Ridge-Watcher’s name into a cup of Abol. Gain  + 1 Effect when negotiating passage this scene, but the ancestors will expect an answer—and the cup will be empty when you look down. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Ridge-Watchers or Crown Council envoys.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby horse guards or spice warehouse clerks.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for pass guides or rival horse traders.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable monsoon window.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Ridge-Watcher captain or Spice House factor becomes aware and begins responding.

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

• Foe Appears: A rival horse lord or Ashaani agent 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 Ridge-Watchers, Crown guards, or spice house enforcers arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—king assassinated/monsoon fails/pass closes forever.

• 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: Crown Council, the Spirit-Healer, or the Kinyamkera intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—avalanche buries the pass/monsoon surf floods the wharf/coffee terraces catch fire.

• 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

• Taharka (Highlands): Pass stones glow faintly, horse bells ring without wind, snow falls upward, a fumbo whispers in your ear.

• Taharka (Coast): Monsoon winds carry whispers, spice dust forms faces, the coastal tongue sprouts new words unbidden, a luba drum plays a single note.

• Taharka (Spirit Law): A kichocheo laughs from a baobab, a coffee cup cracks, a spider weaves a question into its web, the popobawa scratches at your door.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

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

• Weather the Monsoon (Endurance + Sail): On a hit in Monsoon Delay, you pick which ships dock; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Horse, Monsoon & Spirits)

• The Horse-Line Thief (Nine Bloodlines) – Phases: Foal Thefts → Orchestrated Plague → Stable Coup. Cracks: recover a stolen foal, expose a false fumbo, survive a stampede of ghosts.

• The Monsoon-Breaker (Storm That Stalls) – Phases: Delayed Ships → Procession of Empty Wharves → Famine Baptism of a Merchant. Cracks: relic monsoon drum, survivor testimony, the wind turning against them—and a pepo whispering the true schedule.

• The Spirit of the Ninth Pass (Shetani wa Tisa) – Phases: Miscount Whispers → Stone Slides → Pass Feast. Cracks: recite a counting song that ends at eight, offer a honey-and-blood sacrifice at the kinyamkera’s cairn, survive a night on the mountain without fire—and without doubting the popobawa’s name.

Among the Taharka, power flows through passes, horse lineages, and the favor of the monsoon—and through the gada cycle, the eight-year rotation of political authority. The Crown Council rules by consensus, but each valley lord commands his own Ridge-Watchers. The spice merchants of the coast operate independently, paying tariffs to the Crown but answering to no single lord. The mchango of the dhows is a bond of mutual aid—a captain who breaks it finds his ship’s name erased from every mooring post, and the mng’aro of the wharf will point at him every dusk until he makes amends.

For the GM: Power in Taharkan society is measured in altitude, access, and the answering of riddles. Patronage often takes the form of pass-stones, horse-bonds, or coffee cups—each tied to a specific valley, bloodline, or trade route. To emphasize the highland spirit-culture:

• Tie rewards to physical tokens (carved stone, braided hair, clay cups) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided—and that may carry a fumbo of their own.

• Let rival lords issue conflicting pass-rights, forcing players to choose whose path to follow—and whose mzimu to offend.

• Use the rock-chapels, horse cemeteries, and monsoon wharves as arenas for social contests, where hospitality is law, a cup of coffee is a bond, and a pepo may be listening.

• Introduce spirits as recurring obstacles—they are not enemies but old powers bound to balance, asking for stories rather than silver, and always asking: “Did you count to eight before you spoke?”

In Taharkan society, the mountain remembers every step—and the horse remembers every rider. The spirits remember every miscount.

Aelaerem of the Southern Hills

“They are small, but the mountain does not crush them. They walk where the passes forget their names, and the coffee they trade tastes of mist and memory. Never refuse a cup—the first is welcome, the second is a test, and the ninth cup is for the hollow that lives under the hill. They pour eight and leave the ninth empty. So should you.”

Quick Reference

Tagline: Small hands, old obligations. The hill remembers every footstep.

Genre / Mood: Pastoral highland folk, hospitality traps, mist-veiled pygmy clans.

Who They Are.

In the high passes of southern Taharka, where the air thins and the coffee terraces climb into the clouds, live the Aelaerem of the Southern Hills—a pygmy halfling people who were ancient in these mountains before the first Taharkan king raised his banner. They keep to the upper slopes, tending terraced groves of wild coffee, shepherding shaggy mountain goats, and weaving red thread through the antlers of the passes. Outsiders call them hill-kin or cloud-tenders; they call themselves the remembered, because every stone on every cairn has a name, and they are the ones who still speak them.

The Aelaerem have no king, no capital. Their courts are the circle of standing stones at a mountain spring; their law is the counting of cups and the tying of knots. They trade coffee, mountain herbs, and old tales with Taharkan caravans, but they do not trust the lowlands—and the lowlands have learned to respect the ninth cup.

What you notice first:

The smell of roasting coffee and damp moss. The way every threshold of their felt and stone huts has a red thread tied at eye level. The silence when a stranger approaches—and the sudden song when a child decides you are welcome.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never refuse a second cup of coffee. The first is welcome; the second is a test of honor; the third is a bond. Refuse the second, and you have insulted the house—and the house’s ancestors, who listen through the floorboards. And never, ever pour the ninth cup.

The Ninth Cup in the Highlands.

Among the Taharkan Aelaerem, the rite of the ninth cup is subtle: at any feast or negotiation, eight cups are poured. The ninth cup is left empty on the table, facing the door. It is for the Hollow—the presence that walks the high passes when the mist rolls down. If a stranger pours the ninth cup, the Hollow will drink, and the stranger will carry a burden. If the stranger drinks the ninth cup themselves, they have invited the Hollow to sit beside them. The Aelaerem will not intervene. The Hollow is patient.

Coffee & Knots.

Aelaerem coffee is famous across Taharka, but it is never sold for coin. It is bartered for stories, for promises, for red thread that will be tied around the wrist of one who carries an open promise. A bag of highland beans comes with a knot—a promise recorded in wool. The knot is cut when the promise is kept. Until then, the one bound can feel it tighten when they sleep.

Spades — Aelaerem Places (d6)

2. Cloud Terrace — Coffee shrubs planted on stone steps lost in mist. The mist has a voice. It whispers the names of those who have not yet fulfilled their promises. The eighth step is warm; the ninth is cold. ‘[MYSTERY]‘

3. Red Thread Cairn — A pile of stones bound with faded wool; prayers tied to antlers. Each thread is a promise kept. The cairn grows a handspan each year—but the ninth thread is never tied. It is left loose for the Hollow. ‘[RITUAL]‘

4. Spring Circle — A ring of standing stones around a cold mountain well. The water tastes of iron and old agreements. Drink only from the eighth stone. The ninth stone has no cup. ‘[JUSTICE]‘

5. Felt Hut of the Story-Keeper — Low, warm, full of smoke and the smell of roasting beans. The Story-Keeper has not left in forty years. The hut has not grown colder. She pours eight cups at dusk, and the ninth she leaves for the kinyamkera. ‘[HOSPITALITY]‘

6. Goat Walk — A vertiginous path where only the sure-footed pass. The goats have names. They will tell you the safe route—if you ask politely, and if you answer their fumbo. ‘[TRAVEL]‘

7. The Ninth Cairn — A mound of stones with no thread, no offering, no name. The ninth cairn is for promises that can never be kept. Do not touch it. Do not point. If you must leave something, leave a cup of Abol—then walk away without looking back. ‘[DEATH]‘

Hearts — Aelaerem People (d6)

2. Coffee Wife — The matriarch of a terrace, keeper of the harvest and the promises. She ties a knot for every sack. She has never lost a knot. She knows the fumbo of every bean. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘

3. Goat-Herd — A small figure in a patched cloak, always humming. His goats answer to the hum. They also answer to the names of dead Aelaerem—and they will not cross a threshold where the ninth cup has been poured. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘

4. Thread-Witch — A hedgewise woman who weaves red wool and omens. She can tie a knot that will hold a ghost—or cut one that should have held. She never cuts the ninth knot; that is for the Hollow to loose. ‘[MAGIC]‘

5. Stone-Speaker — An elder who reads the names carved on the old cairns. He has forgotten his own name. The stones remember it for him. He speaks only in eights—never nine. ‘[KNOWLEDGE]‘

6. Mist-Walker — A young Aelaerem who guides caravans through the high passes. She never uses a compass. She reads the taste of the fog—and she knows which patches of mist are actually the breath of a kinyamkera. ‘[TRAVEL]‘

7. The Hollow’s Witness — An ancient, half-blind figure who sits at the ninth cairn. She does not speak. She points. The direction she points is the direction the Hollow will walk tonight. If she points at you, pour a cup of Baraka on the ground and do not sleep. ‘[DEATH]‘

Clubs — Aelaerem Complications (d6)

2. Road-Bread Refused — A caravan master sneers at the offer of a shared cup. The pass closes behind him. The mist has teeth—and the kichocheo in the nearest baobab is throwing stones. ‘[HOSPITALITY]‘

3. Ninth Cup Poured (By Mistake) — A stranger pours the empty cup. The Hollow drinks. The stranger now carries a weight for one who accepts no silver—only a story that ends with eight. ‘[RITUAL]‘

4. Red Thread Cut — Someone cuts the thread around a bound one’s wrist. The promise does not vanish. It transfers. The cutter is now the one bound—and the thread will retie itself around their neck by dawn. ‘[JUSTICE]‘

5. Goat Stampede — A flock of shaggy mountain goats barrels through the caravan. They are not angry. They are fleeing something worse. The mist behind them has a shape—and the shape is counting to eight. ‘[FEAR]‘

6. Coffee Blight — A fungus turns the berries black; the terrace sings at night. The song is a name. The name is the Coffee Wife’s. She will not speak of it—but she pours a cup of Tona on the ground every night, and the blight retreats an inch. ‘[CURSE]‘

7. Stone-Speaker’s Silence — The old man stops reading the cairns. The stones are angry. A promise was broken—a fumbo left unanswered. The party is the closest witness. The stones will ask a riddle; if you cannot answer, the ninth cairn will open. ‘[JUSTICE]‘

Diamonds — Aelaerem Rewards (d6)

2. Red Thread Knot — A knot tied by the Coffee Wife. Present it to claim a minor promise from any Aelaerem. The knot tightens when the bound one lies. It loosens when they speak true—but it will never untie completely. That is its hold. ‘[SOCIAL]‘

3. Highland Bean Sack — A bag of coffee that never runs dry. Brew it to gain  + 1 die on negotiation rolls with any highlander for one scene. The beans smell of mist—and of the fumbo of the horse that carried them. ‘[TRADE]‘

4. Moss-Hide Cloak — Woven from mountain moss and goat wool. When standing still in mist, you are invisible to mundane sight. The mist does not betray you—unless you carry an open promise. Then it will part, and the kinyamkera will point at you. ‘[STEALTH]‘

5. Goat’s Tooth Whistle — Blow it to call a single sure-footed goat. The goat will carry a light load and never slip. It will also judge your character and report to the herd—and the herd’s fumbo is older than the mountain. ‘[TRAVEL]‘

6. Stone-Speaker’s Name [Leverage: Knowledge] — A single true name of an ancestor carved on a pebble. Speak it at a cairn to ask one question of the dead. The answer is always a riddle—and the riddle will take a memory if you cannot solve it. ‘[KNOWLEDGE]‘

7. The Hollow’s Cup [Leverage: Protection] — An empty ceramic cup, warm to the touch. Set it on a threshold, and the Hollow will not cross for one night. After that, the Hollow will remember the courtesy—and it will ask for a cup of Abol at the next new moon. ‘[PROTECTION]‘

Adventure Seed: The Ninth Cairn’s Promise

A Stone-Speaker has stopped speaking. The ninth cairn is weeping water that tastes of salt and old blood. The Coffee Wife says a promise was called in—a pledge made by a Taharkan prince to an Aelaerem chieftain, three generations ago. The prince’s descendant is in the party’s caravan, traveling in disguise. The Hollow walks the passes. The party must either:

• Find the original promise (hidden in a cairn under a stone that has not been moved in a century—and guarded by a kichocheo that demands a story ending with eight).

• Offer the weight in memory (a cherished recollection of a kindness, given to the Hollow at the ninth cairn—and the Hollow will also take the memory of your face).

• Or convince the Aelaerem to forgive the promise—which requires a story that moves the stones themselves, and a cup of Baraka shared with the mizimu.

The reward is the Coffee Wife’s blessing: a single red thread that can tie any two willing parties into a binding promise, enforceable by the mountain itself—and a fumbo that answers itself.

Sekogo

The Green Council.

The jungle has an immune system. When a fever rises, we cut it out. When an oath is broken, we collect the price. We are not cruel. We are necessary. The tree remembers every unpaid debt, and we are its teeth.

I am a Honey-Gatherer. The bees know my name. They do not sting me because I sing to them the song of the first blossom. My grandmother taught me that the honey is not a gift; it is a loan. One day, the grove will ask for it back.

Sekogo lies between the Sahel grasslands and the southern plateau—a dry savannah that grows wetter as you travel east, until the baobabs give way to deep jungle and the air turns thick with the smell of damp earth and overripe fruit. Here, the Green Council rules through consensus, honey-orchards are sacred, and the old spirits still walk. Slavery is forbidden; the jungle itself would rise against any slaver who crossed its border. But here’s the secret the Council doesn’t want you to know: the jungle has a favorite. It is not the Conservators who protect the old pacts. It is not the Wakers who want to rouse the jungle with fever-mists and bloodier rites. It is the Ukwe—the Speaking Tree—that decides whose debts are collected and whose are forgiven. And the Ukwe does not answer to the Council.

The Leopard Society hunts those who break the deepest taboos. The Earth Society keeps the Calendar of Debt, a sacred list written on bark and buried at the Ukwe’s roots. The nganga work with minkisi—power objects inhabited by spirits—hammering nails into carved figures to release magic. Each nail is a new debt to the spirit within. Trickster spirits—children of Ananse, the spider-trickster—weave illusions and swap debts for laughter. And in the oldest groves, the Ninki Nanka—a serpent with a mirror-back—slithers between roots, its reflection showing the lies you have told.

Never cut a marked tree. Each such tree is a living witness. The bark grows over the names of debtors, but the wood remembers. Cut it, and the Ukwe will add your name to its ledger.

— Hunter Okoro, Leopard Society mask-wearer, who never removes his mask

What do people eat for breakfast? Mashed yams and groundnut stew—the yams are grown in clearings that shift with the seasons, the groundnuts are harvested by monkey-tribes who speak the old tongue. The monkeys are not paid. The monkeys are remembered. Memory is currency.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To name the spirits. Sekogo children are taught the eight spirits of the grove: River, Tree, Stone, Rain, Fire, Wind, Honey, and the ninth—the spirit that has no name. The ninth spirit is the Ukwe’s shadow. The shadow watches. The shadow never forgives.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their mask. Every Sekogo wears a mask—carved wood, painted with the symbols of their lineage. A stranger whose mask is cracked has broken a taboo. A stranger whose mask is blank has no lineage. A stranger with no mask is not a person. The Leopard Society hunts the maskless.

What is the most common crime? Debt-forgetting—but debt-forgetting is not a crime, it is a sickness. The Ukwe keeps the Calendar of Debt. A name that is forgotten is a debt that is unpaid. The unpaid debt grows roots. The roots strangle the debtor’s house. The house collapses. The jungle reclaims it.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Green Council does not rule. The Ukwe rules. The Council is the Ukwe’s voice—eight speakers chosen by the tree’s roots. The ninth seat is empty. The ninth speaker was the tree itself. The tree does not speak. The tree waits.

Where do people go when they die? To the Ukwe’s roots. The dead are not buried. Their bodies are laid at the base of the Speaking Tree. The roots absorb them. The tree grows a new leaf for each soul. The leaves whisper the names of the dead. The whisper is the wind.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You hammer a nail into a nkisi—a power figure carved by the nganga. The nail represents your wrong. The spirit inside the nkisi accepts your apology. The nail rusts. When the nail is gone, your debt is paid. The nail never rusts.

What is the most important festival? The Honey Harvest (autumn). The bees are sung to sleep. The hives are opened. The honey is collected in copper bowls. The first bowl is offered to the Ukwe. The tree drinks. The tree does not thank.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Ukwe is not a tree. It is a prison—the binding of a spirit that tried to consume the jungle nine centuries ago. The spirit is still alive. The tree is its cage. The roots are its chains. The Green Council is its jailers. The jailers have forgotten what they guard.

Sekogo — “The Green Council”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Ukwe (The City)

Region Diagnostic Template

Sekogo

Current Hook (one sentence)

Core Conflict (one sentence)

The One Thing Only This Region Does

Interactive Mechanics (player-facing)

• =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  1 ] The Ukwe’s Witness: Speak a secret to a marked tree to gain 1 Boon, but the tree remembers it forever (GM gains 1 SB when that secret is relevant).

• =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  2 ] Honey-Tithe: Offer honey to gain safe passage; refusing marks 1 Obligation to the Grove Spirit.

• =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  3 ] Mask Law: Wearing a ceremonial mask grants authority but binds you to its taboos; breaking them causes the mask to crack (–1 die social).

• =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  4 ] Ananse’s Bargain: Renegotiate a promise once per session (Spirit + Lore, DV 4); success shifts terms, failure doubles the burden.

Campaign Timers (GM-facing)

• Waker Fever [6] – Advances when: Players ignore spirit warnings or use Waker spores. At full: The jungle becomes hostile; navigation rolls at –1 die.

• Ukwe’s Memory [8] – Advances when: Players break promises or cut marked trees. At full: The Mwitu manifests; the party is lost until a debt is paid.

Faction Triad

Faction in the Realm:

The Price

Geography as Constraint

The Ninth Taboo manifestation

Current Weaknesses (honest self-assessment)

• Too many spirit types (Mzuka, Kizimba, Ngozi, etc.) may confuse players.

• Faction goals overlap too much (all care about promises).

• Risk of “magic everywhere” diluting the cost of spellcasting.

Design Fixes Applied: Consolidated spirits into three categories (Ancestral, Nature, Vengeant). Clarified faction distinctions (Stasis vs. Growth vs. Enforcement). Integrated core Fate’s Edge mechanics (Boons, SB, Obligation) into all rewards.

Quick Reference

Tagline: The jungle remembers every promise. The mask is the law. The honey is a bond.

Leopard Society Hunter (Elite): “The jungle has a memory. When a fever rises, we cut it out. When an oath is broken, we restore the balance. We are not cruel. We are necessary. The tree remembers every deed, and we are its teeth.”

Honey-Gatherer (Commoner): “The bees know my name. They do not sting me because I sing to them the song of the first blossom. My grandmother taught me that the honey is not a gift; it is a trust. One day, the grove will need something from you, and you will remember the taste.”

Genre / Mood: Jungle folk horror, spirit diplomacy, mask-law.

Starting Location: A honey-orchard at the jungle’s edge, where the trees hum and the air is thick with bees. A masked figure in a leopard pelt steps from the shadows: “The Ukwe has asked for a name. A caravan master broke his oath to the grove. Find him before the roots do — or become his witness.”

Sekogo lies between the Sahel grasslands and the southern plateau — a dry savannah that grows wetter as you travel east, until the baobabs give way to deep jungle and the air turns thick with the smell of damp earth and overripe fruit. Here, the Green Council rules through consensus, honey-orchards are sacred, and the old spirits still walk. Slavery is forbidden; the jungle itself would rise against any slaver who crossed its border. But the Council is divided: Conservators want to protect the old pacts, while Wakers argue that the jungle has grown sluggish and needs to be roused with fever-mists, thorn-spirits, and older, bloodier rites. At the eastern edge lies the Crimson Valley, home to the Lethai-ar — chestnut-brown elves whose silk bridges span red canyons and whose web-law keeps both empires from using the valley as a shortcut to war.

Neighbors and the Unclaimed Ground:

• North – Ameria and the Neutral Kingdoms: Beyond Sekogo’s northern savannah lies a patchwork of small, independent kingdoms — buffer states that pay tribute to neither Sekogo nor Kahfagia. Their courts are weak, their laws a creole of jungle custom and coastal tariff. Smugglers and exiles thrive there. The Leopard Society occasionally hunts across the border, but always with a local guide.

• East – The Crimson Valley (Lethai-ar): The Ukwe’s roots extend into the valley’s red stone. The Lethai-ar silk-wardens respect the Speaking Tree, and the Green Council’s witnessed promises are sometimes recorded on a Lethai-ar cord. A bridge toll paid in Sekogo honey is honored on both sides of the gorge.

• South and West – The Jungle’s Own: Sekogo’s borders are not lines but gradients. The deeper you go, the more the Ukwe’s roots thicken and the Leopard Society’s law becomes the only law.

What you notice first: The sound of bees — a constant, low drone that never stops, even at night. The way the trees lean toward you when you speak a secret. The smell of honey and rotting fruit, sweet and sharp at once.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never cut a marked tree. Each such tree is a living witness. The bark grows over the names of those who have broken harmony, but the wood remembers. Cut it, and the Ukwe will add your name to its memory.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Root

Power here is measured in witnessed promises, honey tithes, and the balance between jungle and council. The Leopard Society hunts those who break the deepest taboos — oath-breakers, slavers, outsiders who take more than they give. The Earth Society keeps the Calendar of Witness, a sacred list written on bark and buried at the Ukwe’s roots, preserving memories that must not be forgotten.

The spirits of Sekogo are consolidated into three kinds for play: Ancestral (bound to groves, speak in dead voices), Nature (guardians like crocodiles or baobabs, show rather than speak), and Vengeant (born from blood-promises, hunt until answered). The Hollow manifests here as the Mwitu, the forest that forgets where the village ends — and that forgetfulness is a hunger.

Prominent NPCs of Sekogo

Names of Sekogo

Inspired by the savannah and jungle regions: melodic, with nasal consonants and tonal shifts. Surnames often denote a totem animal, a grove, or a witnessed deed.

(Orchard/Circle/Bridge)

Honey-orchard where the trees hum; druid circle with moss-covered stones and a leopard skull at center; Lethai-ar silk bridge spanning a crimson gorge with the Ukwe’s roots clutching the water below.

Spades — Places

2. Honey-Orchard — The trees hum. The air is thick with bees. The honey is dark red. It tastes of iron and forgotten promises. The ninth hive is always empty — the bees say the Hollow has taken the queen. [SPIRIT]

3. Druid Circle (Leopard Skull) — A ring of moss-covered stones. A skull sits at the center. The skull is warm. When the Leopard Society hunts, the eye sockets glow — and the mzuka of the skull whispers the quarry’s true name. [RITUAL]

4. Lethai-ar Silk Bridge — A span of woven silk across a crimson gorge. The silk is made from spider-sap and oath-hair. It will not break unless an oath is called. The ninth strand is invisible — it is the Hollow’s witness. [OATH]

5. The Ukwe (Speaking Tree) — A baobab so old its bark is carved with a thousand names. The tree speaks in the voices of the dead. It never gives answers — only new questions and old memories. The ninth root never stops growing; it searches for the name that was erased. [WITNESS]

6. Nkisi Grove — A clearing where broken power-objects are buried. The ground hums. The nails that sealed the minkisi have grown into iron thorns. The ninth thorn is always warm; it marks the grave of the nganga who drove the first nail. [MAGIC]

7. Calendar of Witness (Earth Society Vault) — A hollow log sealed with wax and bone. Inside are strips of bark. Each strip records a broken harmony. The bark is still growing — and the ninth strip has no writing. It waits for a promise that has not yet been broken. [MEMORY]

8. Waker’s Fever-Mist Pool — A stagnant pond that steams even in winter. The mist smells of rotting flowers. Breathe it, and you will see the jungle as the Wakers see it — a place that is starving, waiting to be woken. The ninth breath of the mist shows the Mwitu. [WEATHER]

9. Leopard Society Lodge — A longhouse hidden in a thicket of thorn-vines. The walls are made of human jawbones. The jaws are from oath-breakers. They still click when a new name is spoken — and the ninth click is always the name of the next quarry. [SECRET]

10. Crimson Valley Gorge — A canyon of red stone, crossed by silk bridges at three points. The stone is warm. It bleeds rust when the web-law is broken. The ninth bridge is a myth — it appears only when a promise is witnessed by a ghost. [THRESHOLD]

11. Conservator Archive — A cave filled with sealed clay pots. Each pot contains a memory. The memories are for sharing. The price is a memory of equal weight. The ninth pot is cracked — the memory inside is leaking, and no one remembers what it was. [MEMORY]

12. The Grove of Sleeping Spirits — A forest where the minkisi go to die. The spirits do not wake. They dream of the first nail. The dream is contagious — and the ninth dream is the Hollow’s own. [DEATH]

13. The Ukwe’s Root-Chamber — A cavern beneath the tree where the roots form a throne. The throne is made of braided roots. Sit on it, and the tree will ask one question. Answer poorly, and you never leave. Answer with a lie, and the ninth root will bind your tongue. [JUDGMENT]

14. The Crimson Falls — A waterfall that runs red after the first rain of spring. The water is not blood. It is rust from the canyon walls. The Lethai-ar say it is the earth’s memory of a war — and the ninth drop is always cold, because it fell on a broken oath. [SPIRIT]

15. The Pool of Mami Wata — A still, black pool behind the Crimson Falls, reachable only by diving underwater. The water is warm. It shows not your reflection, but the face of the person whose memory the spirit holds. The ninth ripple is always your own face — but older, and weeping. [WATER]

(Gatherer/Druid/Warden)

Honey-gatherer with a fruit offering and a leopard claw necklace; Green Council druid with a thorn-staff and milky eyes that see the weight of promises; Lethai-ar silk-warden, masked and quiet, his mask painted with the Ukwe’s roots.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Honey-Gatherer — She wears a leopard claw around her neck. The claw is from a cat she killed with her bare hands. She offers a fruit to the trees before each harvest. The fruit is always a little rotten — the ninth bite is for the Mwitu. [COMMUNITY]

3. Green Council Druid (Conservator) — Milk-white eyes, a staff of living wood. She cannot see the living. She sees only the threads of promises — glowing connections between every person and the Ukwe. The ninth thread is always frayed. [JUSTICE]

4. Waker Radical — Carries a bag of fever-mist spores. His eyes are yellow. He plants thorns in the paths of Conservator caravans. The thorns grow into walls overnight — and the ninth thorn is always a nkisi nail, driven into a forgotten promise. [DANGER]

5. Lethai-ar Silk-Warden — Mask carved from the Ukwe’s root, painted with oath-names. He never speaks above a whisper. The bridge hears him anyway — and the ninth whisper is always the name of someone who will break a promise before dawn. [OATH]

6. Leopard Society Hunter — Wears a pelt that shifts and moves as if alive. He can transform into a leopard at night. Or so he claims. No one has survived a hunt to confirm it — but the ninth transformation is said to be permanent. [FEAR]

7. Earth Society Elder — Holds a piece of the Ukwe’s bark. The bark is warm. She asks every visitor: “What have you forgotten to honor?” The answer is carved into her memory — and the ninth answer is always the same: a name that cannot be spoken. [TRUTH]

8. Nganga (Spirit-Doctor) — Carries a nkisi carved with nine nails. The ninth nail is loose. She hammers a nail into the figure to call a spirit. Each nail is a cost. She has nine costs left — and the ninth nail, if driven, will call the Hollow. [MAGIC]

9. Oath-Keeper (Hollow Manifestation) — A figure made of bark and silence. It appears when the Calendar of Witness grows heavy. It does not speak. It points at the one who broke harmony. That person’s name appears on the nearest tree — and the ninth letter of the name glows green. [DEATH]

10. Lethai-ar Mark-Cutter — A tattooist who records promises on skin. She uses a needle of silk-fiber and ink made from crushed crimson stone. The ink glows when a promise is broken — and the ninth mark she ever cut was her own. [MEMORY]

11. The Ukwe’s Voice (Spirit) — A crack in the tree’s bark that speaks. The voice changes. Sometimes it is a child. Sometimes it is a jarl. Sometimes it is the listener’s own. The ninth word it speaks is always the name of a promise you forgot to make. [SPIRIT]

12. The First Nail (Legend) — A mythic nganga who sealed a spirit into the Ukwe itself. She is said to still walk the jungle, carrying a hammer made of root and bone. The ninth nail she drove was never found — it is still searching for the promise it was meant to seal. [LEGEND]

13. The Leopard King — A spirit that leads the Society’s midnight hunts. It has no mask. Its face is a leopard’s. Its eyes are human. The ninth hunter who follows it never returns — they become the Leopard King’s shadow. [FEAR]

14. The Crimson Valley’s First Weaver — A ghost who teaches the web-law to new wardens. She appears at dawn on the central bridge. She asks one question: “Who watches the watchers?” The ninth warden who answers wrongly is woven into the bridge. [JUSTICE]

15. Ananse’s Child (Trickster) — A small figure with too-long fingers, wearing nine tiny bells. It offers to “renegotiate” any promise — but its renegotiation always adds a new, hidden clause. The clause is a joke. The joke is always on you — and the ninth bell rings only when the joke is already done. [TRICKERY]

(Spirit/Offer/Name)

A thorn-spirit blocks the path — must offer honey or fight; the Ukwe demands a name before letting you pass; a Lethai-ar silk-walker challenges you to recite the web-law.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Thorn-Spirit Block — A wall of living thorns grows across the path. The spirit — a kizimba of the hedge — demands a name. Give a false one, and the thorns grow inward. Give a true one, and the thorns will part — but the spirit will remember your face. [SPIRIT] [OBLIGATION]

3. Ukwe Demands a Name — The tree speaks: “I have forgotten a promise. Remind me.” If you cannot name a broken promise, the tree will take your name instead — and the ninth root will grow a new leaf with your face on it. [WITNESS] [TRUTH]

4. Lethai-ar Web-Law Challenge — A silk-warden blocks the bridge: “Recite the ninth clause.” The ninth clause is unwritten. It changes with each warden. You must guess — but the ninth guess is always wrong, because the clause is the warden’s own secret. [OATH]

5. Leopard Society Hunt — A masked hunter appears at dusk. “You are called to witness.” Refusal earns a Leopard’s Mark. The jungle becomes hostile to you — and the ninth beast you meet will be wearing a mask of your face. [FEAR]

6. Nkisi Hunger — A spirit-object you carry begins whispering. It wants a memory. Refuse, and the nkisi shatters. The spirit inside is not friendly — and the ninth shard will embed itself in your shadow, following you until you feed it. [MAGIC]

7. Waker Poisoning — A well is found with a green film on the water. The poison is not lethal. It makes you dream of the jungle’s hunger — and the ninth dream is always the Mwitu asking, “Why are you still here?” [WEATHER]

8. Earth Society Reckoning — An elder demands to see what you carry in your memory. The record is written in scars on your skin. You have no scars. That is suspicious — so the elder will give you nine scars, one for each forgotten promise you cannot name. [TRUTH]

9. Honey-Tithe Demanded — A grove spirit appears: “Pay the ninth jar.” You have no honey. The spirit offers a bargain. The price is a story — and the ninth story you tell will become a new root in the Ukwe’s memory. [TRADE] [OBLIGATION]

10. Crimson Valley Border Dispute — Oshiiran surveyors cross the web-line. The Lethai-ar arm their bows. The party is caught between. Whoever you side with, the other will remember — and the ninth bridge will close to you forever. [POLITICS]

11. The Ukwe’s Root Breaches — A root bursts through a village floor. It is looking for a specific name. The name is carved on the root. The root is weeping. The one who broke the promise is still alive — and the ninth night they sleep, the root will find them. [DEATH]

12. Leopard Society Coup — The Wakers have infiltrated the Lodge. The masks are fighting. You cannot tell who is who. Both sides wear leopard pelts. Both sides smell of blood — and the ninth mask you see will be the one that speaks with the Leopard King’s voice. [CONFLICT]

13. Calendar Fire — A spark catches the Earth Society vault. The memories are burning. The smoke forms faces. The faces are those who broke harmony. They are screaming — and the ninth scream is your own, from a promise you made and then forgot. [DISASTER]

14. The Crimson Falls Run Red — The waterfall turns to blood. The Lethai-ar say the web-law has been broken. The break was centuries ago. The falls are just catching up — and the ninth drop of blood carries the name of the first oath-breaker. [OMEN]

15. Mami Wata’s Gaze — A figure rises from the black pool behind the falls. It asks: “What promise have you never been able to keep?” If you lie, the water will take your voice. If you tell the truth, it will ask for a memory as price — and the ninth memory you offer will be the one you need most. [SPIRIT] [OBLIGATION]

(Favor/Trust/Shard)

Leopard’s Favor (once, call on the Leopard Society for a hunt — you are bound to them for a future hunt); Ukwe Memory (reroll a failed Survival test once per session, but GM gains 1 SB for a jungle complication); Nkisi Shard (add  + 1 Effect to a magical working, but the shard shatters and costs 1 Corruption).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Leopard’s Favor — A leopard claw wrapped in red thread. One use to summon a Society hunt. The favor is a bond. The Society will remember. The price is a future hunt — and the ninth hunt will be for your own name, if you break the bond. [BOND]

3. Ukwe Memory (Leaf) — A single leaf from the Speaking Tree. Reroll a failed Survival test once per session. The leaf is green. It will not wilt. The tree remembers who took it — and the ninth time you use it, the leaf will turn black and whisper a name you have forgotten. [MEMORY]

4. Nkisi Shard — A piece of a broken power-object. Add  + 1 Effect to a magical working, then it shatters. The shard is warm. It whispers secrets in a language you almost understand — and the ninth secret is always about a promise you made to yourself and broke. [MAGIC]

5. Honey-Jar (Royal Tithe) [Leverage: Passage] — A clay pot of dark red honey. Trade it for safe passage through any grove. The honey is thick. It moves in the jar as if alive. Do not open it — the ninth time you open it, the bees will remember your name and ask for a tithe. [TRADE]

6. Earth Society Tablet — A strip of bark with a broken promise recorded. Present it to recall a forgotten harmony. The bark is still growing. The memory is still fresh — and the ninth time you use it, the bark will grow over your hand and show you the promise you yourself broke. [MEMORY]

7. Lethai-ar Silk Cord [Leverage: Authority] — A braided cord that records a witnessed promise. Use it to enforce any oath. The cord tightens when the oath is broken. It will not stop until blood is drawn — and the ninth drop of blood will be your own, if you witnessed a false promise. [OATH]

8. Leopard Mask (Temporary) — Wear it to pass as a Society hunter for one scene. The mask has eye holes that see the weight of promises. It also sees your own — and the ninth time you wear it, the mask will not come off. [SECRET]

9. Waker’s Spore Pouch — A bag of fever-mist spores. Release them to confuse pursuers. The spores cause vivid hallucinations. The hallucinations are always of the Ukwe — and the ninth hallucination will be a question: “Why did you lie?” [STEALTH]

10. Nganga’s Hammer — A small iron hammer. Drive a nail into any object to seal a spirit inside. The hammer has a cost. Each nail requires a memory — and the ninth nail you drive will seal a fragment of your own soul into the object. [MAGIC]

11. The Ukwe’s Answer [Leverage: Knowledge] — A single truth from the Speaking Tree, whispered on the wind. The truth is always about a broken promise. The promise may not be yours — but the ninth time you listen, the tree will speak a promise you made and forgot. [TRUTH]

12. Silk-Warden’s Mask [Leverage: Passage] — A carved mask that grants safe passage across any Lethai-ar bridge. The mask is also a witness. It will remember every promise you make while wearing it — and the ninth promise will be witnessed by the Hollow. [OATH]

13. Oath-Keeper’s Finger [Leverage: Authority] — A dried root shaped like a digit. Use it to call an Oath-Keeper once. The Oath-Keeper will settle one broken promise for you. Then it will ask for yours — and the ninth finger of its hand will point at the promise you most fear to keep. [DEATH]

14. The First Nail — A legendary iron nail that sealed the first spirit into the Ukwe. Drive it into any tree to create a new Speaking Tree. The tree will remember everything — and the ninth name it speaks will be your own, unless you offer a memory in its place. [LEGEND]

15. Mami Wata’s Tear — A drop of water that never dries, said to be the spirit’s grief for a promise broken long ago. Drink it to forget one broken promise permanently — but you will dream of drowning once each season. The ninth dream will be the promise itself, remembered. [WATER] [MEMORY]

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 (favors, memories, shards) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo grove-omens — bees that fly backward, roots that bleed sap, a mask that watches from the trees, the ninth bell of Ananse’s Child ringing in still air. If an A+ appears (special high-rank result), a spirit of the deep jungle (Mami Wata, Ananse’s Child, the Leopard King) manifests directly.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• The Three Societies: Sekogo is governed by three overlapping authorities: the Leopard Society (hunters who restore balance), the Earth Society (elders who keep the Calendar of Witness), and the nganga (spirit-doctors who work with minkisi). A single elder often belongs to two societies, and the tension between their roles is where drama lives.

• The Ukwe (Speaking Tree): A living witness whose roots extend across Sekogo. Every broken promise, every forgotten harmony stains its leaves. It answers questions — but never with kindness, and never for free. Accepting its gift creates a reciprocal bond that the tree may call upon at any moment. The ninth root is never still — it searches for the name that was erased.

• The Crimson Valley and Web-Law: The Lethai-ar guard the valley with fierce neutrality. Their skin-tattoos (Marks) record promises witnessed. When a Lethai-ar dies, their Marks are cut from the skin and buried at the Ukwe’s roots. The web-law is unwritten; each warden carries a different clause in memory. The ninth clause is always a secret known only to the First Weaver’s ghost.

• Mask Law: In Sekogo, a mask is not a disguise — it is a role. Wearing the mask of a Leopard Society hunter, a Waker, or a spirit entitles you to speak for that office, but also binds you to its taboos. Breaking a mask’s taboo (e.g., a Leopard mask showing mercy to a slaver) causes the mask to crack and the wearer to lose 1 die on all social rolls until they atone. The ninth mask is the Hollow’s own — it has no face, and it never cracks because it was never whole.

• Bark Promise-Cords (Mukanda): Promises are recorded on strips of bark called mukanda. Each strip is knotted; the knot tightens when the promise is strained, loosens when it is kept. A mukanda that rots means the bond is released; one that hardens into wood means the obligation has set. The ninth knot on a mukanda is never tied — it is left loose for the Hollow to judge.

• Ananse’s Bargain (Trickster Mechanic): Once per session, a character may call upon Ananse’s Child to “renegotiate” any promise, oath, or contract. Roll Spirit + Lore (DV 4). On a success, the terms shift in your favor — but the GM gains 1 SB and may add a hidden clause that will trigger at the worst possible moment. On a miss, the burden doubles — and the ninth clause added will be the Hollow’s own terms.

• The Mwitu (Hollow of the Forest): When the Ninth manifests in Sekogo, it is as the Mwitu — the forest that forgets where the village ends. It appears as a wall of gray mist between the trees, and it whispers: “Why are you still here?” Those who cannot answer lose their sense of direction (all navigation rolls at  − 1 die for one scene). The Mwitu can be appeased by leaving a mukanda at the edge of the mist — a promise to remember a forgotten name.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Root Father — Grimmir. The ancient pact between the jungle and the first honey-gatherer. His ninth root is the Hollow’s own.

  • The Masked One — Mykkiel. The law that wears a leopard’s face; the judge who hunts. His ninth mask is a blank — for the case he cannot judge.

  • The Spider’s Whisper — Inaea. The trickster who spins webs in the spaces between promises. Her ninth knot is never tied.

  • The Water Mother — Raéyn. Mami Wata, who holds the memories of the drowned. Her ninth tear is the one she never sheds.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Ukwe’s Shadow and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Hollow is said to be the shadow of the Ukwe — the space where broken promises go when the tree forgets them. Aelaerem hedge-keepers leave offerings at the Ukwe’s roots to keep the Hollow from wandering. The ninth offering is always a mukanda with a single knot — a promise to remember.

• Lethai-ar Silk and the Way of Silk: The silk bridges of the Crimson Valley are made from spider-sap and oath-hair. Tulkani traders prize the silk for memory-cords; Fhara water-clerks use it to seal well-contracts. A bolt of Crimson silk can buy safe passage across half the continent — but the ninth bolt is always reserved for the Hollow’s bridge.

• Leopard Society and Ashaani Slavers: The Leopard Society has a standing grudge against Ashaani slavers. A masked hunter may offer the party a deal: help free a group of captives from a Black Hand caravan, and the Society will forget an old broken promise. The ninth captive freed will be marked with a Leopard’s claw — a sign that they are bound to the Society for a hunt.

• Nganga and the Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara): The nganga of Sekogo believe the Kalrantha amulet is a rogue nkisi — a spirit-object that was never properly sealed. They want to drive a nail into it to bind the demon. The ninth nail would seal the amulet forever — but the nganga who drives it will become the amulet’s new keeper.

• Ananse’s Child and the Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: The trickster spirit is known to trade fragments of forgotten prophecies for stories. Some psions claim that Ananse’s Child taught the first Echo-Readers the art of reading broken promises in the wind. The ninth prophecy it ever told was about the Hollow’s return — but it told it as a joke, and no one laughed.

• The Neutral Kingdoms (North): Smugglers from the unclaimed lands often carry Sekogo honey across the savannah. A Leopard Society hunt that crosses the border may find itself negotiating with a petty king who broke a promise to the Ukwe three generations ago. The king’s ninth ancestor was a witness — and his ghost still sits on the throne, waiting for the promise to be kept.

Sekogo Superstitions (burn for  + 1 die once)

• Bread to the Root: Crumble a crust at the Ukwe’s base. Ignore the first Ukwe Demands a Name penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Silk: Tie a single knot in a Lethai-ar bridge cord. Cancel Web-Law Challenge or take  − 1 die on your next negotiation (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Nail: Whisper a dead nganga’s name into a nkisi. Gain  + 1 Effect when using a spirit-object this scene, but the ancestors will expect an answer — and the ninth answer must be a promise. [SUPERSTITION]

• Spit to the Mask: Before donning a ceremonial mask, spit on the inside. If the mask accepts, you gain  + 1 die to all rolls while wearing it. If it rejects, the mask will not come off for 1d4 hours — and the ninth hour, the mask will speak. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Leopard Society hunters or Earth Society elders.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby bees or Lethai-ar wardens.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for Oath-Keepers or Waker spies.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or safe passage through a grove.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Leopard Society or Green Council druid becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to thorn-spirit or fog from the Crimson Falls.

• Foe Appears: A Waker cell or Oath-Keeper 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 Leopard Society, Earth Society guardians, or Lethai-ar archers arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — Ukwe speaks/Waker poison spreads/web-law broken.

• 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: Leopard King, Ukwe’s Voice, or Crimson Valley First Weaver intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — nkisi shatter/honey turns to blood/Ukwe’s root breaches the ground.

• 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

• Sekogo (Jungle Law): Bees form words, tree bark weeps sap, the Ukwe’s root trembles.

• Sekogo (Crimson Valley): Silk cords tighten, canyon walls bleed rust, the web-law recites itself.

• Sekogo (Society Conflict): Masks shift expressions, bark strips burn without flame, a ninth nail appears in every nkisi.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

• Cut the Web (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a silk cord is in your possession,  + 1 die.

• Weather the Hunt (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Leopard Society Hunt, you pick who is targeted; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Root & Mask)

• The Root-King (Nine Broken Promises) — Phases: Promise Calls → Orchestrated Famine → Grove Coup. Cracks: burn a bark strip, expose a false memory, survive a harvest without honey. The ninth root follows you home.

• The Mask that Walks (Leopard’s Shadow) — Phases: Midnight Hunts → Procession of Masks → Skin-Baptism of a Warden. Cracks: relic leopard claw, survivor testimony, the mask turning against them — and the ninth mask is always the Hollow’s own.

• Mami Wata’s Wrath (Water Spirit) — Phases: Pool Rises → Crimson Falls Reversed → Memory of the Drowned. Cracks: offer a true memory of loss, speak the name of a slaver ship she sank, return a stolen mirror to her pool. The ninth memory she takes is your own.

Among Sekogo, power flows through witnessed promises, honey, and the consent of the jungle. The Green Council rules by consensus, but the Leopard Society restores balance, the Earth Society keeps the Calendar of Witness, and the nganga negotiate with spirits. No single faction holds all the power — and that is by design.

For the GM: Power in Sekogo society turns on broken promises and witnessed oaths. Patronage often takes the form of favors, memories, or shards — each carrying a future cost. To emphasize this:

• Tie rewards to objects that create reciprocal bonds (leopard claws, Ukwe leaves, nkisi shards, mukanda strips) that can be called in at inconvenient moments.

• Let rival societies offer conflicting judgments, forcing players to choose whose law to follow — and whose ninth clause to honor.

• Use the honey-orchards, druid circles, and silk bridges as arenas for social contests, where a gift of honey is a treaty and a broken promise is a death sentence.

• Introduce trickster spirits (Ananse’s Child) to complicate simple resolutions — they are excellent wild cards, and their ninth bell is always the Hollow’s cue.

• Remember that Mami Wata is not evil; she is ancient. She collects memories, not lives. A bargain with her may be the only way to escape a blood-feud — but the ninth memory she asks for will be the one you cannot spare.

In Sekogo society, the jungle remembers everything — and the Ukwe forgets nothing. The Mwitu waits at the edge of the ninth root, and the ninth bell of Ananse’s Child rings only when a promise is already broken.

The Crimson Valley

Silk Bridges, Web-Law, and the Forest Above.

The web-law is not written down. It is woven — into every bridge, every strand, every knot. Make a promise here and the valley holds it exactly as you made it. Not more kindly. Not less.

I am a Mark-Cutter. Every line on my skin is something I witnessed. When I die they will cut the marks out of me and bury them at the Ukwe’s roots, and the tree will hold what I held. That is all that happens. People from outside always ask me what happens after, and I have stopped knowing how to explain that the question does not mean anything here.

The Crimson Valley is a jungle rift between Sekogo and Oshiira, a wound of red stone cut by a river that runs rust-colored after rain. Silk bridges span the gorges, spun from spider-sap and oath-hair, strong enough for a caravan and light enough to move in the monsoon. The Lethai-ar hold the valley floor and the bridges, and they hold them with a neutrality that outsiders consistently mistake for friendliness.

Understand the one principle and you will understand everything else: you get back what you put in. Exactly. A kindness is returned to the weight. An insult is returned to the weight. Shelter given is shelter owed and shelter repaid, and then nothing — no warmth left over, no grudge either, the strand cut clean and both parties standing where they started. The Lethai-ar are not generous and are not cruel, and both of those absences frighten visitors more than a threat would. There is no appealing to their better nature. It is not withheld. It is simply not a thing they have agreed to have.

Their skin-marks are the record: read publicly, by anyone, under the crimson moon. A Lethai-ar carrying a mark they cannot answer loses standing. A warden who cuts a bridge without cause is put out of the valley, and being put out is understood by everyone concerned to be the end of that person, though nobody says so and nobody stops them walking.

Never step onto a silk bridge without first naming a witness. The bridge holds what it was told to hold. If you go down, it will want to know who was supposed to be watching, and it will be a long time before it stops asking.

— Silk-Warden Anara, marked from wrist to shoulder, who has never once been owed anything

The Two Answers

A Lethai-ar swears once, in adulthood, and the oath answers back. You choose the oath; the oath chooses what you are. This is the valley’s own principle turned on its owners — you get back what you put in, including what you put into a promise — and no outsider has ever argued them out of it, chiefly because it keeps happening in front of witnesses.

Those who swear into something become Woven. They take after the canyon’s social spiders: hundreds to a web, no head to it, brood tended in common, no strand held above another. Woven are communal the way a hand is five fingers, not out of virtue but out of build. They feed each other’s children without being asked and without keeping count, because counting would imply something owed, and nothing is owed inside a web. They also know what the spiders know — that a web has a term, that colonies reach their size and come apart, and that every generation stands and watches one go. They weave anyway, and will tell you without much sadness that the coming apart is not the failure of the thing but the last part of it, and that a web which refused to end would have to start taking from its own.

Those who swear away become Shed: long-boned, cool-blooded, patient past the point where patience is a virtue. They can put on a face, and it is not a disguise but a growth; it takes months and it holds. And they shed, and not skin only — a Shed coming out of a shedding does not have the previous decade the way other people have decades. It is why they work so well in Kahfagia, and why the valley does not call them traitors: a Shed who has lost every memory of the errand goes on running it, because the oath is in the body and not the recollection. The Woven see them off with the rite they use for the dead, and mean by it what they mean at a funeral.

The tell is not what outsiders expect. A Shed cannot return a kindness at the weight — the severance took that — so every Shed learns a counterfeit return, practiced, smooth, and always a fraction generous. Old Kahfagian houses still test for it: offer a guest some small unearned courtesy and watch what comes back. A human over- or underpays and thinks nothing of it. A Woven returns it to the gram and is puzzled at being watched. A Shed returns it slightly too well, every time, and cannot stop, because the alternative is returning nothing at all.

There are no snakes in Theona. No Shed has ever worked there, none has been able to say why, and the Woven will not speculate in front of outsiders.

The Forest Above

The valley floor is Lethai-ar. The forest on the rim is not, and the difference is the most important fact in the region.

The Lethai-al hold the upper forest and do not admit anyone into it. This is not shyness, ignorance, or hostility in the way outsiders keep wanting it to be. It is a policy, arrived at by argument, minuted, and enforced with great competence by people who have thought about it for longer than Oshiira has existed. The boundary is marked — clearly, in a script that any Sekogo trader can read and most can read at a distance — and the marks are maintained. There is a procedure for requesting entry. It is genuine. It has been used successfully four times in nine hundred years, and the Lethai-al can tell you the names.

Cross without leave and you will be warned once, in your own language, by someone you did not see arrive and will not see leave. You will not be warned twice. What follows is not frenzy; it is fieldcraft, executed by foresters who know the ground and have no intention of meeting you in the open. Parties come back short and cannot say what happened, which is itself deliberate — the Lethai-al would much rather you left than died, and a survivor who cannot describe anything is worth more to them than a corpse.

Ask why, and any of them will tell you plainly, because it is not a secret. Every other Lethai people had a past and does not have it now. The Lethai-al watched that happen from the trees, more than once, and drew the conclusion that the people who kept anything were the people who let nobody in. They are not confident this is right. They are confident it is working.

Northward, where the valley rim meets the Oshiiran plateau, the forest is watched from the other side. The Spirit Wrestlers keep stone monasteries along the edge and walk the line in pairs, and the Lethai-al watch them do it and log each pass. What stands between the two is a mile of ground that Oshiira says is plateau and the Lethai-al say is forest, and the disagreement is conducted as a formal disputation — convened each dry season at a marked stone, argued in a third language so that neither side has the run of the idiom, recorded by both. No session has ever been won and neither delegation would know what to do if one were. People still do not come back from that mile. Oshiira enters those as misadventure and the Lethai-al enter them as a boundary matter concluded, and each sends the other a copy, and this has held four centuries, which is longer than either has managed with anything else they have tried.

What do people eat for breakfast? Rice porridge and fermented tea, the rice off terraces cut into the canyon wall, the tea aged in clay under the bridges. It is bitter, and the bitterness is the point — a valley proverb holds that anything sweet you did not work for is somebody else’s.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To read a mark. There are eight shapes — Promise, Given, Witness, Returned, Refused, Cut, Released — and the ninth, which is the smooth place where a mark was taken out. Children are taught the eighth and ninth in the same lesson, and told the difference matters more than anything else they will learn.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their marks, and specifically whether anything is outstanding. A stranger carrying nothing unanswered is free to deal with. A stranger carrying something old is not refused — they are simply dealt with at that weight.

What is the most common crime? Cutting a bridge. It is treated as an act of war rather than theft, because a bridge is a promise between two shores and the shores did not agree to it ending. The wardens’ response is proportionate and immediate, and proportionate here means precisely proportionate.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? That the valley is shaped like something. The Lethai-ar do not discuss it with outsiders and are perfectly willing to discuss it with each other, at length, in the way people discuss weather they cannot change.

Where do people go when they die? Downriver, wrapped in silk, into the Ukwe’s reach. The tree takes them and keeps what they were holding. Nobody in the valley finds this melancholy and visitors reliably do, which the Lethai-ar find interesting and occasionally raise as a conversational topic.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You cut the mark out of yourself and offer it. Accepted, it passes to them and the matter is closed at that weight. Refused, it is buried, and a buried mark is not vengeance — it is a thing that stays exactly as heavy as it was, forever, and everyone can see where it is.

What is the most important festival? The Weaving, in spring: silk harvested from the canyon spiders, thread spun by the wardens, a whole bridge woven in one night. The bridge is named for the year and the year is named for a promise, and the promise offered is always the same one, which the wardens will not translate for visitors.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? That the river’s rust is not iron, that it has been running that color for nine centuries, and that the wardens have known the source the entire time and have made a deliberate collective decision to leave it alone. It is not ignorance and it is not cowardice. Several generations of them have argued it out and voted, and the vote is recorded, and anyone can read it.

Lethai-ar — “The Crimson Valley”

Key Demographic: Lethai-ar Capital City: Ananse

Quick Reference

Tagline: The bridge remembers every step. The silk knows every promise.

Silk-Warden (Elite): “The web-law is not written on parchment. It is woven into every bridge, every strand, every knot. When a promise is made, the valley remembers. When a promise is broken, the silk tightens. We are not judges. We are the loom. The spider spins; we only follow the thread.”

Mark-Cutter (Commoner): “Each line on my skin is a promise I witnessed. Each line is a story I carry. When I die, they will cut these marks from my body and bury them at the Ukwe’s roots. Then the tree will remember what I witnessed. I hope it is enough. The thread does not break; it only passes to the next hand.”

Genre / Mood: High-fantasy legal drama, spidersilk noir, ancestral witness.

Starting Location: The central silk bridge, where the gorge is deepest and the wind carries the smell of rust. A Silk-Warden blocks your path, her mask painted with roots: “The web-law demands a toll. Not in coin – in a promise. Swear that you will not use this valley to carry steel to Ashaan, or turn back now. The thread is watching. So is the spider.”

The Crimson Valley is a deep jungle rift between Sekogo and Oshiira – a wound of red stone, carved by a river that runs rust-colored after every rain. Here, the Lethai-ar guard their borders with fierce neutrality, their chestnut-brown skin blending with the canyon walls. Silk bridges span the gorges, woven from spider-sap and oath-hair, strong enough to hold a caravan and light enough to sway in the monsoon wind. The web-law is unwritten, carried in the memory of each warden; it keeps both empires from using the valley as a shortcut to war.

Unlike their northern kin who fell from grace, the Lethai-ar are adopted children of the old powers – not fallen, but chosen to carry memory. Each can name the specific mountain, river, or grove where their ancestor left the spirit world to become mortal. Their skin-tattoos (Marks) are woven with red ochre and jungle sap, each line a promise witnessed, each curve a story recorded. When a Lethai-ar dies, their Marks are cut from the skin and buried at the Ukwe’s roots, so the tree may remember what they witnessed.

The valley itself is alive. The silk remembers every footfall; the river whispers the names of those who have crossed; and in the oldest bridges, the spider – Inaea, the weaver of bonds – still spins. The Lethai-ar do not worship her, but they honor the thread. They say that every promise is a strand in her web, and that a broken oath sends a tremor through the whole valley.

What you notice first: The whisper of silk ropes in the wind. The smell of red ochre and damp stone. The way every Lethai-ar touches their left wrist when they speak a name – a gesture of witness.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never step onto a silk bridge without first naming a witness. The bridge will remember your footsteps. If you fall, it will ask why no one was watching.

Regional Mood: The Weight of Witness

Power here flows from witnessed promises, silk strands, and the web-law’s quiet authority. The valley is neutral ground – Oshiiran grain barges do not float here, and Ashaani armies dare not march. The Lethai-ar trade silk for honey with Sekogo druids and stonesong for poison with Ngomebe masons. Their Marks are not decoration; they are a public memory, written on skin, read by anyone who knows the phase of the crimson moon. A Lethai-ar who bears a Mark they cannot fulfil loses standing; a warden who cuts a bridge without cause is exiled. But the true authority is the web itself – the invisible threads that connect every oath ever sworn in the valley. The Lethai-ar do not create the web. They tend it.

Prominent NPCs of the Crimson Valley

Names of the Crimson Valley

Lethai-ar names are soft, with rolling consonants and vowel endings. Surnames often denote a bridge, a gorge, or a spirit-ancestor. Epithets refer to Marks or witnessed deeds.

(Bridge/Gorge/Roots)

Silk bridge spanning a crimson gorge – ropes sing in the wind; a Lethai-ar village built into the canyon wall; the Ukwe’s roots clutching the water below the central span.

Spades — Places

2. Central Silk Bridge – A wide span woven from crimson and gray strands. The bridge hums when a promise is made on it. The pitch tells the warden if the promise is true. If the thread vibrates at the ninth frequency, the spider is listening. [WITNESS]

3. Mark-Cutter’s Studio – A cave with a stone table and pots of ochre. The walls are carved with Marks that were never cut into skin. They are stories the cutter refused to witness. The stone is warm to the touch. [CRAFT]

4. Ukwe’s Riverside Root – A massive root that dips into the crimson river. The root is warm. Touch it, and the tree will show you one forgotten promise from a dead Lethai-ar. The water ripples in response. [MEMORY]

5. Abandoned Silk Span – A broken bridge hanging over the gorge. The cut ends are frayed. The cut was not clean – someone broke an oath mid-crossing. The strands still twitch. [DEATH]

6. Spirit-Anchor Stone – A boulder where the first ancestor left the spirit world. The stone is smooth. It is warm even in winter. Lethai-ar leave offerings of red ochre here – and sometimes a single knotted thread. [RITUAL]

7. Warden’s Watchtower – A stone needle built into the canyon wall, with a signal mirror. The mirror flashes in code. The code is the web-law. No outsider has broken it. The code changes when the spider dreams. [AUTHORITY]

8. Hollow of the Unmarked – A cave below the eastern bridge, hidden by a waterfall. The cave has no silk. The Unmarked lives here, weaving nets from her own hair. Her hair is knotted. [MYSTERY]

9. Crimson River Ford – A shallow crossing where the water is clear, not red. The ford is sacred. No oath sworn here can be broken. The water would turn black – and the spider would feel it. [OATH]

10. Elder’s Cord-House – A longhouse where the memory-knots are stored. Each cord is a name. The cords are hung from the ceiling. They move in no wind. When a name is forgotten, a cord falls. [MEMORY]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  J ] The Spider’s Stall – A Tulkani merchant’s tent at the valley’s southern exit. She sells silk to anyone. The price is a story. The story must be about a thread that held – or a thread that broke. She never blinks. [TRADE]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  Q ] Bridge of the Ninth Strand – A legend: a bridge woven from a single hair. It appears only at dawn on the first day of spring. Those who cross it gain a new name – and a new thread to their web. [LEGEND]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  K ] The Cut Stone – A boulder split by an oath-breaker’s fall. The split is shaped like a human body. The stone weeps water when the oath-breaker’s name is spoken. The water tastes of rust. [DEATH]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  A ] The First Bridge (Myth) – Where the first Lethai-ar wove the first strand. It is invisible. Only those who have witnessed nine true promises can see it. The spider sits at the far end, waiting. [MYTH]

(Warden/Cutter/Trader)

Silk-warden with a mask painted with the Ukwe’s roots; Mark-cutter with a needle of silk-fiber; Tulkani spider-trader with a bundle of oath-cords.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Silk-Warden – Mask carved from crimson wood, painted with oath-names. She never blinks when standing on the bridge. The bridge does not forgive distraction. She counts her breaths in eights. [AUTHORITY]

3. Mark-Cutter – Hands stained red with ochre, eyes that measure skin. She asks each client: “What promise do you want the world to remember?” The answer becomes a Mark – and a thread in the web. [CRAFT]

4. Bridge-Keeper – Old, gray-haired, missing three fingers from a snapped strand. He carries a whistle made from a spider’s fang. The whistle calls the bridge to tighten – or to loosen. He never uses it. [WITNESS]

5. Elder (Memory-Keeper) – Bundles of silk cords hang from her belt. She knows every name carved into every root of the Ukwe. She has forgotten her own. The cords remember it for her. [MEMORY]

6. Tulkani Spider (Trader) – Wears a shawl of crimson silk, speaks in riddles. She pays for silk with stories. The stories become new strands. The bridge grows. She never closes her eyes – she says the spider does not sleep. [TRADE]

7. The Unmarked – A Lethai-ar without Marks, living in the hollow. She whispers to the waterfall. The waterfall whispers back. No one knows what they say. Her thread is her own. [MYSTERY]

8. Youth Seeking a Mark – A young Lethai-ar on their first witness journey. They carry a single strand of undyed silk. When they witness a promise, they will dye it crimson. The dye is their own blood. [COMMUNITY]

9. Oath-Breaker’s Ghost – A translucent figure pacing the broken bridge. It repeats the words of the promise it broke. The words are getting quieter. When they stop, the thread will snap. [DEATH]

10. Sekogo Honey Trader – A druid with a jar of dark honey, trading for silk poison. He offers the honey as a gift. The wardens test it by feeding a drop to the bridge. The bridge sways if it is poisoned – or if the gift is false. [TRADE]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  J ] Ngomebe Stone-Singer – A mason with a tuning fork, here to buy silk for sledge-wax seals. He taps the bridge with his fork. The note tells him how many promises it has witnessed. The note is always an octave below the spider’s hum. [CRAFT]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  Q ] The First Ancestor’s Echo – A voice heard at the Spirit-Anchor Stone at midnight. It asks: “Why did you leave the spirit world?” The answer must be a promise. The spider listens. [RITUAL]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  K ] The Spider’s Daughter – A half-Lethai-ar child raised by the Tkanki trader. She has no Marks. Her skin is blank. She is learning to read knots – and to spin her own thread. She never asks twice. [COMMUNITY]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  A ] The Ninth Warden (Legend) – A warden who cut her own bridge to stop an invasion. She is said to walk the valley at dusk, carrying a coil of silk. She offers one free crossing – but the crossing leads to the spider’s web. [LEGEND]

(Strand/Challenge/Fall)

A silk strand snaps – lose 1 Supply to repair; a Lethai-ar challenges you to recite the web-law; a traveler falls from the bridge – the party must witness their last words.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Snapped Strand – A rope on a bridge breaks. Lose 1 Supply to repair. The break is clean. Someone cut it with a blade. The blade was from Ashaan – or from a broken promise. [DISASTER]

3. Web-Law Challenge – A warden blocks the bridge: “Recite the ninth clause.” The ninth clause is unwritten. Each warden carries a different version. You must guess. The spider knows the true one. [SOCIAL] [RIDDLE]

4. Fall from the Bridge – A traveler slips. The bridge asks: “Who witnessed this?” If no one answers, the traveler’s name is erased from the Ukwe’s roots – and the spider weaves a new strand. [DEATH] [WITNESS]

5. Oshiiran Surveyors – Grain auditors arrive with a map, claiming the valley’s water rights. They carry a treaty stamped with the Widow’s seal. The seal is a forgery. The bridge hums in warning. [AUTHORITY] [POLITICS]

6. Ashaani Scouts (Disguised) – Veiled Sister agents posing as spice merchants. They do not touch their left wrist when speaking a name. The wardens notice. The thread tightens. [STEALTH] [POLITICS]

7. Mark-Cutter’s Witness Called – A Lethai-ar’s Marks begin to glow red. A promise is overdue. The witness is not present. The party is the closest witness. The duty transfers – as does the thread. [WITNESS] [COMMUNITY]

8. Bridge Poisoning – Someone smears a solvent on the silk strands. The bridge begins to fray. The solvent is made from Sekogo honey and Ashaani dust. The Spider knows who sold it. The threads are weeping. [MAGIC] [DISASTER]

9. Elder’s Memory Fails – The cord-keeper forgets a name. The knot unravels. The forgotten name is an old promise. The Ukwe’s root trembles. Something is coming – or someone. [MEMORY] [DEATH]

10. The Unmarked’s Bargain – The outcast offers to guide the party through the gorge. Her price is a promise. The promise: “Do not speak my name after I die.” Refuse, and she leaves you to the spiders. Accept, and she ties a knot. [SOCIAL] [WITNESS]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  J ] Crimson River Floods – Rain turns the ford to a torrent. The bridge is the only crossing. The water is red. Faces appear in the foam. They are oath-breakers, still trying to cross. The spider watches. [WEATHER] [DEATH]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  Q ] Warden Schism – Two wardens disagree on the web-law. They cut each other’s bridges. The valley is now divided. The party must choose which side to cross – or stay stuck forever. The spider waits. [AUTHORITY] [POLITICS]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  K ] The First Bridge Appears – The mythical bridge manifests at dawn. Crossing it gives a new name. The new name is a promise. The promise is to the First Ancestor. The ancestor will collect – and the spider will weave. [MYTH] [MAGIC]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  A ] The Ninth Warden Returns – The legend appears, offering a free crossing. The crossing leads to the spider’s web. The Hollow asks: “What promise did you break?” Answer poorly, and you become a new strand. [DEATH] [LEGEND]

(Cord/Mask/Shard)

Silk truth-cord (enforce any oath); warden’s mask (safe passage on any bridge for one crossing); Ukwe root shard (one question about a forgotten promise).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Silk Truth-Cord [Leverage: Authority] – A braided strand dyed crimson. Use it to enforce any oath. The cord tightens when the oath is broken. It will not stop until the promise is kept – or the spider releases it. [OATH]

3. Warden’s Mask [Leverage: Passage] – A wooden mask painted with roots. Safe passage on any bridge for one crossing. The mask has no eye holes. You must trust the bridge to see for you. The bridge sees through the spider’s eyes. [TRAVEL]

4. Ukwe Root Shard [Leverage: Knowledge] – A piece of the tree’s root that grows near the river. Touch it, and the Ukwe will answer one question about a forgotten promise. The answer is always true – and always a thread. [MEMORY]

5. Mark-Cutter’s Needle – A silk-fiber needle. Use it to record a witnessed promise as a temporary Mark. The Mark fades after one season. The story remains – and the spider remembers. [CRAFT]

6. Bridge-Keeper’s Whistle – A fang whistle. Blow it to tighten any silk bridge for one scene. The whistle works once. The bridge will remember the favor – and the spider will know. [AUTHORITY]

7. Elder’s Memory Cord [Leverage: Knowledge] – A knotted silk cord that contains a forgotten name. Untie the knot to learn the name. The name is a promise. Fulfil it, or the cord will retie itself – and the spider will watch. [MEMORY]

8. Spider’s Story-Strand [Leverage: Passage] – A bolt of crimson silk bought with a story. The silk is soft. It glows under moonlight. Trade it for safe passage through Tkanki camps – or give it to the spider. [TRADE]

9. The Unmarked’s Net – A net woven from human hair. Throw it to catch a spirit. The net can hold a bound spirit for one hour. The spirit will bargain for freedom – with a promise. [MAGIC]

10. Crimson Ochre Pot – A clay pot of red pigment. Use it to Mark a promise on stone or skin. The ochre never dries. The promise remains witnessable forever – until the spider cuts the thread. [CRAFT]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  J ] Ninth Strand Fragment [Leverage: Passage] – A piece of the legendary bridge. Once per campaign, cross any gap as if on solid ground. The fragment crumbles after use. The first bridge will remember you – and the spider will ask for a toll. [LEGEND]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  Q ] The Cut Stone’s Water [Leverage: Knowledge] – A vial of water that seeps from the oath-breaker’s boulder. Drink it to remember a promise you broke. The memory is painful. The pain is the price – and the thread. [DEATH]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  K ] First Ancestor’s Blessing – A whispered promise from the Spirit-Anchor Stone. Once, you may reroll any failed roll involving a witnessed promise. The ancestor watches – and the spider weaves. [RITUAL]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  A ] The Ninth Warden’s Coil – A coil of silk said to belong to the legendary warden. Use it to cut a bridge without angering the web-law. The coil then unravels – and the spider’s shadow falls on you. [LEGEND]

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 (cords, masks, shards) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo valley-omens – silk cords humming in still air, the crimson river running clear, a bridge that sways without wind. The spider is near.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• The Web-Law: The unwritten legal code of the Crimson Valley. Each warden carries a different clause in memory; together, they form a complete web. To cross a bridge, a traveler must answer a question about the web-law. The answer changes with each warden. On a successful roll (Wits + Lore, DV 3), you may bypass the challenge; on a failure, you must offer a promise instead – and the spider will witness it.

• Marks (Skin-Tattoos): Each Lethai-ar’s Marks are a public record of promises witnessed. The Marks are cut from the skin after death and buried at the Ukwe’s roots. To read a living Lethai-ar’s Marks, one must know the phase of the crimson moon and the position of the valley’s spirits. A character who studies a Lethai-ar’s Marks for a scene may ask the GM one question about a promise that Lethai-ar has witnessed; the GM must answer truthfully – but the spider may also listen.

• Spirit Ancestry: Every Lethai-ar can name the specific spirit (mountain, river, grove) where their ancestor left the spirit world to become mortal. That spirit is their witness; they owe it a promise at birth, and that promise is never fully paid. Once per journey, a Lethai-ar may invoke their spirit ancestor to gain +1 die on a roll related to that spirit’s domain (e.g., a river ancestor aids a crossing). The spider notes the favor.

• Witness Economy: Instead of tracking debt, the Crimson Valley uses Witness as currency. A character who witnesses a promise gains 1 Witness token. Tokens can be spent to: gain +1 die on a roll involving that promise, force an oath-breaker to reroll a successful deception, or demand a favor from someone who witnessed the same promise. Witness tokens are lost when the promise is fulfilled or broken – and the spider watches the exchange.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The First Weaver (Inaea): The spider who taught the first knot; mercy is a strand, not a cut. Her web is the valley’s memory.

  • The Serpent Judge (Isoka): The fang that decides; a promise kept is a skin shed. She watches from the river stones.

  • The Crimson Witness (The Witness): The flame that sees through silk; no oath hidden from its light. The bridge glows when it passes.

  • The Bridge Father (The Traveler): The road that crosses the gorge; every crossing is a promise. He walks the strands at dusk.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• Crimson Silk and the Way of Silk: The silk of the Crimson Valley is prized across the continent for vow-cords, well-contracts, and bridge-building. The Tkanki spider-traders are the primary merchants; a single bolt can buy safe passage from Fhara to Dhahara. A Tkanki story-seller may accept crimson silk as payment for a truth – but the spider will ask for a copy.

• The Ukwe’s Roots and Sekogo: The Ukwe’s roots extend into the Crimson Valley. The Lethai-ar bury their dead Marks at the riverbank root, creating a unique relationship with the Speaking Tree. The Ukwe knows every promise ever made in the valley. A Sekogo druid may ask the Ukwe to witness a new oath, binding it with the weight of the valley – and the spider’s thread.

• Web-Law and the Covenant (Mykkiel): The Covenant judges respect the web-law as a valid legal system. A Lethai-ar truth-cord is admissible in a Covenant court. Some judges have learned to read Marks. A Covenant justiciar may offer to translate a web-law dispute into imperial law – but the translation always favors the spider.

• The Unmarked and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): Lethai-ar who refuse all Marks become invisible to the web-law – and to the Hollow. The Hollow cannot track them. Some Aelaerem seek out the Unmarked to learn the secret of blank skin. The Unmarked charge a promise: “Do not seek me again.” The spider does not visit them.

Lethai-ar Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Bridge: Crumble a crust onto the first strand. Ignore the first Snapped Strand penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Cord: Tie a single knot in a truth-cord. Cancel Web-Law Challenge or take –1 die on your next negotiation (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Root: Whisper a dead warden’s name into the Ukwe’s root. Gain +1 Effect when crossing a bridge this scene, but mark Obligation to the First Ancestor – and the spider will know. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Silk-Wardens or Mark-Cutters.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby bridge-keepers or Tkanki traders.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for Elders or the Unmarked.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or safe crossing.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Silk-Warden or Bridge-Keeper becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to snapped strand or rising river.

• Foe Appears: An Oshiiran surveyor or Ashaani scout 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 Wardens, Mark-Cutters, or bridge guards arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes – bridge cut / web-law broken / First Bridge appears.

• 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: Elder, Ninth Warden, or First Ancestor’s Echo intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically – bridge collapses / river turns black / Ukwe root rises.

• 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

• Crimson Valley (Web-Law): Silk strands glow, truth-cords tighten, the Ukwe’s root hums a name.

• Crimson Valley (Marks): Tattoos itch, ochre stains spread, a dead Mark appears on living skin.

• Crimson Valley (Bridges): Ropes whisper, the gorge echoes with footsteps that are not there, a bridge sways toward the Hollow.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

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

• Weather the Crossing (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Fall from the Bridge, you pick who catches the fallen; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Silk & Promise)

• The Unweaver (Nine Broken Strands) – Phases: Snapped Cords → Orchestrated Falls → Bridge Coup. Cracks: repair a broken strand, expose a false witness, survive a crossing without a promise.

• The Silent Warden (Oath of the Unmarked) – Phases: Forgotten Promises → Procession of the Blank → Skin-Baptism of an Elder. Cracks: relic truth-cord, survivor testimony, the Marks turning against them.

Among the Lethai-ar, power flows through witnessed promises, silk strands, and the authority of the wardens. The web-law is unwritten, but every warden carries a piece of it. Marks are public, stories are visible, and the Ukwe remembers everything. The spider – Inaea – does not rule, but she watches. Her threads are the bonds between families, the knots that hold the valley together, and the silent witness to every oath.

For the GM: Power in the Crimson Valley is measured in witnessed oaths and the trust of the bridge. Patronage often takes the form of truth-cords, masks, or root shards – each tied to a specific promise. To emphasize this:

• Tie rewards to objects that record or enforce promises (cords, masks, shards) that can be challenged, broken, or called in.

• Let rival wardens issue conflicting interpretations of the web-law, forcing players to choose whose bridge to cross.

• Use the bridges, Mark-cutter’s studio, and the Ukwe’s root as arenas for social contests, where a witnessed promise is a weapon and a broken strand is a death sentence.

• Remember that the spider is not a god – she is a presence. She does not speak, but the valley hums with her attention. When a promise is broken, the threads tremble.

In the Crimson Valley, the bridge remembers every step – and the spider forgets no promise.