The Way of Silk
At the table: Water for the next caravan
In Fhara, begin where a caravan and a settlement share a failing water source. A keeper wants reserves protected; a guide wants everyone through safely. Ask the party what fair passage would look like.
Example preparation, not a fixed regional event. Use these names and sizes as a starting point; choose established triggers and completion stakes before play.
- Situation: Arrange a safe departure [6].
- Counter-Clock: The usable reserve runs out [4].
- Campaign: The route is abandoned [8].
A water-share tablet matters only within its stated rights. Finding another source may change the situation outright. Let knowledge, hospitality, and practical work matter alongside formal permission.
Keep at most these three active, and fewer when sufficient. Apply Three Clocks at the table for advancement and retirement. For a short prep sequence and Session Zero reminders, see Run a region. Agree which local themes belong in this campaign; the region’s darkest material need not be tonight’s focus.
“The road is a ledger. Every oasis is a credit, every broken wheel a debt. The Tulkani tie knots to remember who owes whom. The Fhara weigh water before they weigh silver. The Pereshi recite verses to keep the bridges open. And the Sidhi keep lighthouse lamps burning for the dead who still have not reached the shore.” — Dusana of the Raven Road, at a caravanserai whose name she refused to give
Fhara
The Oasis Courts.
Water is not a right. It is a loan from the sand. The oasis remembers every drop drawn, every cup poured, every promise made at its edge. I do not judge the living. I judge the debt.
I am a Water-Clerk. My grandfather dug this well with a shovel and a prayer. My mother sealed the walls with clay from the dry river. I sit in the shade and measure every bucket. The sand does not forgive a miscount.
Water isn’t just law in Fhara—it’s a market, and oh, how the water-clerks love a good deal on aquifer access. They don’t just negotiate in three cups; they auction the right to the fourth cup. The Fhara are merchants, poets, and negotiators; they will bargain for an hour over a cup of coffee, and a day over a camel. But here’s the secret the well-judges don’t want you to know: the wells have ears. Every cup poured, every promise made at the edge, every drop drawn—the well-spirits are listening. And they have opinions. They favor the generous. They punish the greedy. And they never, ever forget a face.
The Fhara have no single king. Their confederacy is a web of marriage alliances, water-sharing treaties, and caravan tariffs. The desert is not empty—it is a ledger of dry wells, abandoned caravanserais, and the bones of those who could not share. A Fhara merchant can cross the waste with only a waterskin and a coffee pot, because every well has a keeper, every keeper a price, and every price can be negotiated. But the negotiation is a ritual. Three cups: the first is welcome, the second is bargaining, the third is a contract. Refuse the third, and you have broken an oath. The well-spirit will remember.
Never refuse a date offered by a well-keeper. The fruit is sacred to their well-spirits. Refusing it ends the conversation—and your access to water.
— Well-Judge Fatima al-Wadi, who carries a dipper made from a date-palm leaf that rots after each case
What do people eat for breakfast? Dates and thin coffee—the dates are from the well-keepers’ groves, the coffee is brewed with cardamom and camel milk. The milk is sour. The sourness is for endurance.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To count cups. Fhara children are taught the eight cups of negotiation: Welcome, Bargain, Contract, Witness, Debt, Payment, Forgiveness, and the ninth—the cup that is never poured. The ninth cup is for the well-spirit. The well-spirit is always thirsty.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their water-skin. A stranger whose water-skin is full has not traveled far. A stranger whose water-skin is dry has traveled too far. A stranger who carries no water-skin is either a well-keeper or a fool. Well-keepers are honoured. Fools are buried.
What is the most common crime? Water theft—but water theft is not a crime, it is a declaration of feud. The well-spirit records every theft in the aquifer. The aquifer is the court. The judge is the well. The verdict is thirst.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The wells are not natural. They were carved by the first Fhara, who made a bargain with the sand. The bargain was for water. The price was memory. The Fhara remember everything. They cannot forget. That is the curse of the wells.
Where do people go when they die? To the oasis. The dead are buried in the date groves, their graves marked with a single stone. The stone is not carved. The dead’s name is spoken at sunrise. If the name is remembered, the dead rests. If it is forgotten, the dead walks.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a cup—the ninth cup, poured from your own water-skin. The cup is placed at the well’s edge. If the well-spirit drinks, you are forgiven. If the water evaporates, you are not. If the cup cracks, your debt is doubled.
What is the most important festival? The Filling of the Wells (spring). Every well is cleaned and blessed. The water-clerks recite the names of the year’s debtors. The debtors stand at the water’s edge. If their reflection wavers, they are forgiven. If it holds, they must pay.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The water-clerks’ ledger is a forgery. The original was lost in a sandstorm three generations ago. The clerks have been inventing water rights ever since. The wells do not care. The wells remember the original. The wells are waiting.
Fhara — “The Oasis Courts”
Key Demographic: Humans Capital City: Qalat al-Waha
Quick Reference
Tagline: Water is a gift from the ancestors. The well remembers every cup.
Well-Judge (Elite): “Water is not a right. It is a gift from the ancestors, passed down through the sand. The oasis remembers every drop drawn, every cup poured, every promise made at its edge. I do not judge the living. I witness the balance.”
Water-Clerk (Commoner): “My grandfather dug this well with a shovel and a prayer. My mother sealed the walls with clay from the dry river. I sit in the shade and measure every bucket. The sand does not forgive a broken trust. But it does forgive a forgetful mind – if you return to share.”
Genre / Mood: Desert law, coffee ritual, water-as-community.
Starting Location: The shaded stone bench of a well-court, where the air is cool and the water is sweet. A Well-Judge dips a clay cup into the basin: “You have come for water, or for trade, or for a story. First, drink. Then tell me which promise you intend to keep today.”
The Fhara dwell on a great, sun-baked peninsula where scattered oases and dry riverbeds connect the coast to the interior. Their cities are built around wells and date groves, and their caravans are the arteries of the spice trade. Water is law – the well-keepers are judges, and the courthouse is the shade of a palm. The Fhara are merchants, poets, and negotiators; they will bargain for an hour over a cup of coffee, and a day over a camel. Their honor is measured in generosity, and their memory is measured in water-shares. Coffee is not a drink; it is a ritual. Three cups: the first is welcome, the second is negotiation, the third is a contract. Refuse the third, and you have broken faith.
What you notice first: The smell of roasting coffee and overripe dates. The way every well has a stone bench for the judge. The silence when the sun passes directly overhead – no one moves, no one speaks.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never refuse a date offered by a well-keeper. The fruit is sacred to their well-spirits. Refusing it ends the conversation – and your access to water.
Regional Mood: The Weight of Water
Power here is measured in well-depth, date groves, and the length of a coffee ritual. Each oasis is a sovereign court, ruled by a Sheikh and a Well-Judge. The Fhara have no single king; their confederacy is a web of marriage alliances, water-sharing treaties, and caravan tariffs. The desert is not empty – it is a record of dry wells, abandoned caravanserais, and the bones of those who could not share. A Fhara merchant can cross the waste with only a waterskin and a coffee pot, because every well has a keeper, every keeper a price, and every price can be negotiated – but the negotiation is a ritual of reciprocity, not of obligation.
The Antagonists: The Nerethi
From the deep desert comes the Nerethi. They are acentric, psionic, and distrusted by all. They do not believe in debt; to them, the concept is alien. They do not owe, they do not remember, and they do not forgive. They walk the dunes like shadows, their minds linked in a hive that rejects the Fhara’s water-ledger.
Philosophy: Memory is a chain. Debt is a shackle. The Nerethi burn both.
Mechanic: Nerethi agents can erase a Bond or Obligation from a character sheet, but the character loses the memory associated with it permanently.
Conflict: The Fhara see them as thieves of history. The Nerethi see the Fhara as slaves to the past.
The Lost Capital: Qalat al-Madina (The Sunken City)
Before the Kuvani and the Eastern Ykrul swept from the steppe, the Fhara had a single great city – Qalat al-Madina, the Mother of Wells. It stood where the peninsula’s largest aquifer surfaced, a ring of gardens and fountains, its walls white as salt. Merchants from Kahfagia and Thepyrgos paid the city’s Water-Tithe to cross the waste. Poets sang of its nine hundred wells, each with a different taste.
But Qalat al-Madina’s true secret was older than the city itself. Beneath its deepest well, a faction of scholars unearthed a vault of forbidden knowledge – fragments of a civilisation that had turned to ash twenty thousand years before the first Utaran legion marched. The knowledge was not magic; it was a reckoning. It spoke of a fire that could scour the world clean.
The three Omens – Inaea, Ikasha, and Isoka – appeared to the Eastern Ykrul and the Kuvani as whispers in the grass and cracks in the sky. They gave a single command: Bury it. Seal it. If it wakes, the world burns. The horse-lords rode against Qalat al-Madina, not for plunder, but to honor the Omens’ warning. They poisoned the wells, drowned the city in its own aquifer, and salted the earth. The curse they carved into the central well was not cruelty – it was a lock: “Let no Fhara ever drink here without paying a death.” The death was the knowledge, buried alive.
Now Qalat al-Madina is a sinkhole field, half-submerged in brackish water, its towers leaning into the mud. The ghosts of the drowned well-keepers rise at dusk, still trying to measure water that no longer exists – and to guard the vault that no one has found. The Kuvani and Ykrul have long since left, but the Omen-Whisper remains: in certain wells, at certain tides, a traveler may hear a voice speaking a single word: “Remember.”
What remains:
The Sunken Archive – a flooded chamber where clay tablets still float, their judgments still legally binding on the living.
The Nine Hundred Wells – now sinkholes, some connected to the underworld.
The Cursed Spring – a pool that rises every new moon; those who drink from it forget their names for a year and a day.
The Drowned Coin – a silver piece minted in the city’s last year; it is said to buy safe passage from any Fhara well-spirit, because it still bears the Mother of Well’s seal – and the memory of the Omens’ warning.
Adventure Hooks:
A Fhara sheikh wants to recover a water-tablet from the Sunken Archive. The tablet proves his clan never ceded the oasis – but the archive is haunted by the drowned judges who whisper of the forbidden vault.
The Kuvani are sending an expedition to the ruins to renew the curse. The Fhara need someone to sabotage them – or to learn why the Omens’ seal is cracking.
A ghost from Qalat al-Madina appears at a well-court, demanding justice for a murder committed three centuries ago. The accused is a modern Fhara noble, but the ghost’s testimony is legally binding under ancient water law. The ghost also whispers a fragment of the forbidden knowledge: a single number.
Nerethi Incursion: A Nerethi psion offers to erase the curse on Qalat al-Madina. The price: the party must forget why they came to the desert in the first place.
“I wrote what I should not have. Then I ran.”
The night the Kuvani and Eastern Ykrul rode against Qalat al-Madina, a young water-clerk named Samir al-Qalat sat in the deep archive, copying ancient tablets by lamplight. He was not a hero. He was the grandson of a well-keeper, and he had a bad habit of reading the tablets he was supposed to copy.
That evening, he unrolled a scroll sealed with a symbol he did not recognize – three interlocking rings, each a different shade of green. The ink was still wet. The scroll had been written that morning, by a hand that no longer existed. It was the Overseer’s fragment, smuggled out of a vault that should have stayed sealed.
Samir read eight lines. Then he stopped. He knew that if he read the ninth, he would never stop.
When the first torches appeared at the city’s edge, he wrapped the scroll in oilcloth, stuffed it into a clay water-jar, and ran. Behind him, the wells were poisoned. Ahead, the desert. He walked for nine days, drinking only the moisture he could lick from the clay.
On the ninth day, he stumbled into a Tulkani caravan circle. The Caravan Judge, an old woman with a cord that dragged on the ground, looked at the jar and said, “You have brought the ninth cup. We do not pour it. But we can carry it.”
Samir gave the scroll to the Tulkani. He did not ask for payment. He asked only that they keep it moving – that no single camp hold it for more than nine nights, no single wagon keep it sealed for more than a season. “The record is warm,” he said. “The ink is still wet. The Hollow reads over my shoulder.”
The Tulkani honoured his request. The fragment passed from wagon to wagon, from story to story, until it reached the Archivolt of Thepyrgos, where it was sealed in a lead-lined box, encased in karadasarythm, with a lock that requires eight witnesses to open. The ninth witness, as the Words of the Ninth say, is always the Hollow – and the Hollow is always available.
Samir al-Qalat died in the desert three years later, alone except for a single date-palm that grew from a seed he had carried from his mother’s grove. The tree still stands. Travelers who rest in its shade sometimes hear a whisper: “Count to eight. Then stop.”
GM Hook: The Tulkani still carry the memory of Samir’s scroll. A Caravan Judge may offer the party a single glimpse of a copy – but only if they promise to carry a message to the Sunken City: “The ink is still wet. Has the Overseer finished writing?”
Prominent NPCs of the Fhara
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumoured Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Sheikh Mansur | Oasis lord of the Three Wells | Keep his well’s water rights against a rival clan | He has not tasted water in ten years – only coffee. |
| Fatima al-Wadi | Well-Judge of the central route | Settle disputes without bloodshed | She carries a dipper made from a date-palm leaf; it rots after each case. |
| Rashid | Caravan master of the Spice Road | Find a new route past a dried well | He has three wives, each from a different oasis. The wives do not speak. |
| Layla | Coffee-house poet | Sell verses for coin and secrets | Her poems are in code; the code is the price of coffee. |
| The Drowned Well-Keeper | A ghost of a well that went dry | Warn travelers of poisoned springs | She appears as a column of steam at dusk. She points at safe wells. |
| Harith al-Qalat | Last living survivor of Qalat al-Madina (immortal? cursed?) | Lift the curse on his city – or die trying | He drinks only rainwater. He has not aged in three centuries. He speaks Kuvani with a Fhara accent. |
| Nerethi Whisperer | Psionic Agent of the Deep | Erase all debts and memories | Has no face; wears the skin of those they have erased. |
Names of the Fhara
Inspired by the desert peninsula: soft consonants, vowel-heavy, with clan prefixes (bin, bint, al-). Surnames often denote a well, a grove, or a trade.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Surnames | Epithets |
|---|---|---|---|
| Mansur | Fatima | al-Wadi | the Well-Born |
| Rashid | Layla | bin Hassan | Coffee-Tongue |
| Tariq | Amira | al-Sahel | the Ninth Cup |
| Jamal | Nadia | Qasimi | Date-Father |
| Hakim | Samira | al-Nur | the Dry-Handed |
| Harith | Zubayda | al-Madina | the Drowned |
(Well/Court/Bazaar)
A well-court with a stone bench and a judge’s dipper; a coffee bazaar under canvas, roasting beans; a dried riverbed where old caravans are buried.
Spades — Places
Well-Court – A stone bench under a palm; a judge with a clay dipper. The dipper has a chip. The chip is from a sword that broke a well – and a trust.
[JUSTICE]Coffee Bazaar – Stalls under canvas; the smell of roasting beans. The best coffee is served in a chipped cup. The chip is a signature.
[TRADE]Date Grove – Rows of palms; the ground soft with fallen fruit. The fruit ferments at night. The drunk monkeys are the guards. They accept bribes of honey.
[COMMUNITY]Dry Riverbed (Old Caravan Route) – A wide, sandy channel with bleached bones. The bones are not human. They are camels that died of thirst. Their ghosts still groan a warning.
[TRAVEL]Tent Court (Mobile) – A carpet under a canvas roof; a judge with a scale. The scale weighs water, not silver. One side is always empty – for the next dispute.
[JUSTICE]Caravanserai of the Three Wells – A walled courtyard with three different springs. The sweet well is for guests. The brackish well is for animals. The bitter well is for prisoners.
[TRAVEL]Salt Pan (Western Edge) – A white flat where the caravans load salt. The salt is mixed with ancient tears. It tastes of old grief. Cooks use it sparingly.
[TRADE]Lighthouse of the Drowned – A stone tower on the coast, never lit. The keeper is blind. He rings a bell when he hears ships. The ships are ghosts.
[DEATH]Oasis of the Ninth Palm – A legend: a grove with nine palms, but the ninth is invisible. Drink from the ninth well, and you will forget your name for a day. Your friends will remind you.
[LEGEND]Abandoned Well-Keeper’s Hut – A collapsed stone shelter with a dry basin. The basin is carved with a name. The name is the keeper’s. He died of thirst – but the well is full.
[DEATH]Coffee Warehouse – A cool, dark building with sacks of beans from a dozen oases. Each sack is stamped with a well’s mark. The marks are family crests. The beans gossip.
[TRADE]Well-Judge’s Archive – A cave filled with clay tablets. Each tablet is a water judgment. The tablets are baked hard. They are also porous. They weep when a judgment is reversed.
[JUSTICE]The First Well – A mythic spring at the center of the peninsula, said to never dry. No one has found it. Those who claim they have are always lying – or dead. The dead are not lying.
[LEGEND]Qalat al-Madina (Sunken City) – A field of sinkholes and half-submerged towers. The water is brackish. The ghosts are polite. They offer you a cup. The cup is empty. Drink it anyway.
[RUIN][DEATH]
(Judge/Poet/Master)
Well-Judge with a clay dipper and a rotted palm-leaf; coffee-house poet with a stringed instrument; caravan master with a rope of camel hair.
Hearts — People & Factions
Well-Judge – Gray-bearded, blind in one eye. He tastes the water before each ruling. “Salt means guilt,” he says. “Sweet means innocence. Bitter means appeal – and a cup of coffee.”
[JUSTICE]Coffee-House Poet – A woman with hennaed hands and a silver bell on her ankle. She recites a verse. The verse is a price. The price is never in coin – it is a favor, a memory, a silence.
[SOCIAL]Caravan Master – Leathery skin, a brass whistle on a thong. He can find water by the color of the sand. He has never been wrong. He charges for the lesson.
[TRAVEL]Water-Clerk – A young woman with a clay tablet and a reed pen. She records every bucket drawn. Her ink is water mixed with soot. A dry tablet means a dry well.
[COMMUNITY]Date Merchant – Fat, cheerful, missing two fingers to a knife fight. He offers a date to every customer. The date is always from his own grove. He knows its story.
[TRADE]Oasis Lord (Sheikh) – Robed in white, a bronze key on his belt. The key opens the sluice gate. He never lets it leave his sight. He sleeps with it under his tongue.
[AUTHORITY]Well-Spirit (Kulub) – A shimmer of heat above the water at noon. It asks: “Who drew without sharing?” Answer truthfully, or the well will dry. The sharing is a story.
[SPIRIT]Camel Breeder – A tall, silent man with a staff of acacia wood. He names each camel after a dead wife. The camels answer to the names. They never forget a slight.
[COMMUNITY]Salt Carrier – A slave (illegal, but present in the deep desert). He wears a collar of braided rope. He is saving to buy his freedom. The price is a thousand measures of salt. His guild saves with him.
[LABOR]The Drowned Well-Keeper’s Ghost – A woman in wet robes, standing at a dry well. She offers a cup of water. The cup is empty. Drink it anyway. The taste is memory.
[DEATH]Coffee Roaster – A man with blackened hands and a brass drum. He roasts beans while reciting the genealogy of each grove. The beans remember. They also judge.
[TRADE]The Ninth Palm’s Guardian – A hooded figure who appears at the legendary oasis. He asks: “Why do you seek the invisible well?” The answer determines if you see it. There is no wrong answer – only a price.
[MYSTERY]The Drowned Poet (Safiya al-Fhara) – A translucent woman in ink-stained caravan robes, appearing at wells during eclipses. She recites verses from the Ford-Counting Sutra. Those who listen gain +1 die on navigation, but the next well they visit will ask for a story she has not already recorded. Her eyes are inkwells; her voice echoes twice – once for the living, once for the dead.
[DEATH][KNOWLEDGE]The First Well-Keeper (Myth) – A skeleton sitting on a stone bench, still holding a dipper. If you take the dipper, you become the new well-keeper. You cannot leave. The water is sweet. The silence is sweeter.
[LEGEND]Harith al-Qalat – The immortal survivor of the Sunken City. He drinks only rainwater. He has not aged in three centuries. He knows where the Drowned Coin lies. He will not say.
[LEGEND][CURSED]Nerethi Mind-Thief – A faceless figure wrapped in sand-colored silk. They offer to take your pain. The price is the memory of who hurt you.
[PSIONIC]
(Dry/Coffee/Dispute)
A well is found dry – the keeper is dead; a coffee ritual is interrupted – the third cup is not poured; a water dispute erupts between two wells – the judge demands a bribe.
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Dry Well – The oasis keeper is dead. Lose 1 Supply. The keeper’s body is curled around the basin. He died of thirst. The well is full – but the spirit is angry.
[DEATH][SURVIVAL]Coffee Ritual Interrupted – A stranger refuses the third cup. The host draws a knife. The stranger is a rival clan member. The insult is a declaration of feud. The coffee is still hot.
[SOCIAL][COMBAT]Water Dispute – Two well-keepers claim the same spring. The judge demands a story. The story must be true. The judge will know if you lie. She has heard them all.
[JUSTICE][SOCIAL]Date Blight – A fungus attacks the groves. Prices triple. Starvation looms. The blight was spread by a merchant from the coast. The merchant’s ship flew no flag. The dates weep.
[DISASTER][TRADE]Sandstorm (Khamsin) – Red dust obscures the path. Navigation DV +1, mark Fatigue. The dust carries whispers. The whispers are the names of dead caravaners. They are asking for directions.
[WEATHER]Customs Inspection (Forged Seal) – A local governor demands papers. Yours are false. The seal is a copy. The forger is in the party. He is sweating. The governor is counting the drops.
[AUTHORITY][TRAP]Elephant Stampede (Rare) – A herd of stray elephants thunders through camp. The elephants are from a Dhaharan stable. They are escaped. They are looking for their mahout. He is hiding in your tent.
[DISASTER][COMBAT]Mirage (False Well) – A shimmer on the horizon. Lose 1 Supply chasing it. The mirage is a memory. The memory is of a well that dried a century ago. The ghost of the well drinks your water.
[WEATHER][TRAP]Obligation Collector (Tulkani Memory-Cord) – Someone recognizes a knot you carry. They demand a story. The story must be about a broken promise. The knot tightens as you speak.
[SOCIAL][OBLIGATION]Well-Spirit Offended – A traveler urinated in the basin. The well refuses water. The spirit demands a story. The story must be true. The well will remember.
[SPIRIT][SOCIAL]Coffee House Fire – A roasting drum explodes. The bazaar is burning. The fire was set by a rival oasis. The rival wants to monopolise the coffee trade. The smoke smells of cinnamon and spite.
[DISASTER][TRADE]Well-Judge’s Verdict Forged – A clay tablet is found altered. The judge is blamed. The forger is the judge’s own clerk. The clerk owes a favor to the Salt Syndicate. The tablet weeps – but the tears are ink.
[JUSTICE][TRAP]The First Well Appears – The mythic spring manifests. All who drink from it forget their broken promises. The forgetting is permanent. The sand shifts. The Hollow is pleased. The creditors are not.
[LEGEND][MAGIC]Qalat al-Madina’s Curse – The Sunken City’s ghosts rise and follow the party. They are polite. They offer water. The water is brackish. They will not leave until someone pays the Drowned Coin – or speaks the word the Omens whispered.
[DEATH][CURSE]Nerethi Memory Erasure – A party member wakes up unable to recall a Bond or Obligation. The gap in their mind hums. The Nerethi are watching.
[PSIONIC][CURSE]
(Water-share/Court/Dipper)
Water-share tablet (right to draw from a named well for a season); caravan court writ (neutral arbitration for one dispute); well-judge’s dipper (one reroll on a negotiation involving water).
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Water-Share Tablet (Stewardship) [Leverage: Authority] – A clay tile. Right to draw from a named well for one season. The tablet is a seal of trust. Break it, and the well’s water becomes free for all – but the breaker becomes the new steward.
[COMMUNITY]Caravan Court Writ [Leverage: Authority] – A palm-leaf document. Demands neutral arbitration for any dispute. The writ is sealed with coffee grounds. The seal is edible. Eat it to void the writ – and the dispute.
[JUSTICE]Well-Judge’s Dipper – A clay cup on a stick. Once, reroll a failed negotiation involving water. The dipper has a chip. The chip is from a sword that broke a well – and a trust. It knows a lie by taste.
[SOCIAL]Coffee Cup (Royal Seal) [Leverage: Authority] – A chipped cup used by a Sheikh. Gain +1 Position in any Fhara court. The chip is a signature. No one will question it. The cup is still warm.
[SOCIAL]Date-Palm Seed [Leverage: Authority] – A single seed from a sacred grove. Plant it to claim water rights. The seed grows into a palm within a year. The well-spirit will recognize you. The dates are a tithe.
[COMMUNITY]Oasis Lord’s Key – A bronze key to a sluice gate. Open any well’s flow for one hour. The key is warm. It glows when a well is being poisoned. It burns the hand of a liar.
[AUTHORITY]Coffee Merchant’s Record [Leverage: Knowledge] – A record of every coffee sale for a decade. Contains names of spies. The record is written in disappearing ink. It reappears when heated. The spies are listed in the margins.
[TRADE][SECRET]Salt Carrier’s Rope Collar [Leverage: Authority] – A braided rope that once held a slave. Present it to free a captive. The rope is old. It smells of sweat and freedom. One use. The freed slave will owe you a story.
[COMMUNITY]Well-Spirit’s Boon [Leverage: Knowledge] – A vial of water from a haunted well. Drink it to see the nearest spring. The water is cold. It tastes of copper. The vision lasts one hour. The spring may be guarded.
[MAGIC]The Drowned Keeper’s Cup – An empty clay cup. Offer it to a dry well, and the dead keeper will fill it once. The cup weeps water. The water is salty. Drink it anyway. The dead keeper will ask for a story in return.
[DEATH]Coffee Roaster’s Drum [Leverage: Knowledge] – A brass drum. Roast beans in it, and the smoke forms words. The words are the future price of coffee. The price is always a warning. The smoke smells of regret.
[MAGIC][OMEN]The Ninth Palm’s Date – A single fruit from the invisible tree. Eat it to forget a single broken promise. The date is sweet. The forgetting is permanent. The well-spirit will still remember – but it will not collect.
[MAGIC]The Unfinished Folio (Safiya al-Fhara’s Manuscript) – A water-stained collection of the historian’s final writings, including the Setu-Gana-Niti (Ford-Counting Sutra). Read it aloud to gain +1 die on any negotiation involving water rights, but the Hollow will hear your voice and remember it for nine days. The ninth page is blank – reserved for the reader’s own debt.
[LEGEND][KNOWLEDGE]The First Well’s Water – A flask from the mythic spring. Drink it to clear all obligations to Fhara patrons. The water tastes of nothing. The spirits will not forgive you for drinking it. But they will forget you owed.
[LEGEND][MAGIC]Drowned Coin of Qalat al-Madina [Leverage: Passage] – A silver piece minted in the lost capital. Present it to any Fhara well-spirit, and it will grant safe passage once. The coin was paid to a murderer. It still smells of blood – and of the Omens’ whisper.
[LEGEND][OBLIGATION]Nerethi Silence – A psionic token that blocks all Obligation tracking for one session. You feel light. You feel empty. You do not remember why you came here.
[PSIONIC][LEVERAGE]
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 (tablets, writs, dippers) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo water-omens – a dry well that weeps, coffee that brews itself, a date that bleeds.
If the party visits Qalat al-Madina, treat it as a Class IV Anchor site (see Saikou Ira’s compendium). The ghosts are not hostile, but they are very, very patient – and they remember the Omens’ warning.
Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)
Three Cups, One Contract: Fhara negotiations follow a rigid ritual. First cup: welcome and genealogy. Second cup: bargaining and threats disguised as compliments. Third cup: sealing the deal. Refusing the third cup voids the negotiation and insults the host. Accepting the third cup without intending to honor the deal is a capital crime – the liar is tied to a date palm until the sun sets.
Water-Sharing Tablets: Water rights are recorded on clay tablets, stored in the Well-Judge’s archive. A tablet can be split, traded, or shared. The tablet is the well’s memory; break it, and the water becomes unclaimed – but the breaker becomes the new steward.
Well-Spirits (Kulub): Each well has a spirit, usually benign but watchful. Offerings of dates, coffee, or a true story keep it calm. A well that has witnessed a murder may turn bitter; a well that has been poisoned may turn sentient. A sentient well is a disaster – it follows those who wronged it.
The Drowned Coin and the Omen-Whisper: Silver pieces from Qalat al-Madina still circulate. A Drowned Coin can be used to invoke the Water-Right of the Lost Capital – one free, unquestioned draw from any well in Fhara territory. The well-spirit will remember, and it will ask for a story in return. But if you listen carefully while holding the coin, you may hear the Omens’ whisper: “Remember.”
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Thirst – Khemesh. The hunger beneath the sand; the pressure that drinks wells dry.
The Cup Bearer – The Witness. The third cup that never lies; the contract sealed in coffee grounds.
The Oasis Father – The Traveler. The road that leads to water; the guide who never drinks.
The Date Mother – Inaea. The web of groves; the shared harvest that binds families.
The Sunken King – Varnek Karn. The ghost of Qalat al-Madina; the negotiator of secrets that outlast cities.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
The Omen-Whisper (Inaea, Ikasha, Isoka): In the deepest wells of the Sunken City, a traveler may hear a voice speaking a single word: “Remember.” The voice is not a ghost – it is a fragment of the three Omens’ warning, left behind when they commanded the Ykrul and Kuvani to bury the ancient knowledge. A character who drinks from the Cursed Spring and survives may hear the full whisper – a single sentence in a language older than the empire. The GM may reveal a clue about the forbidden vault.
Coffee and the Covenant (Mykkiel): Fhara coffee houses are neutral ground under Covenant law. A well-judge’s verdict cannot be appealed outside the oasis. Some Covenant judges are trained in the three-cup ritual – they can tell a liar by the way they hold the cup.
Water Tablets and the Aeler Ledger (Ngomebe): Aeler engineers have been hired to map the underground aquifers. Their breath-books record water pressure and flow. The Fhara see this as an intrusion – or an opportunity for better wells. A shared aquifer is a shared treaty.
Date Groves and the Ukwe (Sekogo): The Ukwe’s roots do not reach the dry peninsula, but the Fhara have their own Speaking Palms – trees that remember every date harvested. A date from a sacred grove can witness an oath as surely as a Lethai-ar cord. The tree will not lie.
The First Well and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The mythic spring that never dries is said to be the Hollow’s original well – before it learned to thirst. Aelaerem hedge-keepers sometimes leave offerings at dried wells, hoping to appease the Hollow with water. The Hollow does not drink. It counts.
The Sunken City and the Kuvani (Eastern Ykrul): The Kuvani and Eastern Ykrul never forgot Qalat al-Madina. Some say they still patrol its ruins to prevent the Fhara from reclaiming it – and to ensure the Omens’ seal remains unbroken. Others say the curse was their doing, and they hold the only key to lifting it: a bronze paiza stamped with the city’s original water treaty, given to them by Inaea herself.
The Nerethi and the Void (Psionics): The Nerethi claim the Hollow is a lie told by creditors. They seek to erase the Ninth Taboo entirely. If they succeed, the Sunken City will rise, and the debt of the world will be wiped clean – along with its history.
The Edgewalker’s Copy of Safiya al-Fhara: The historian’s collected writings still circulate among Edgewalkers as a primer on leverage. A copy can be traded for a story at any Tulkani circle – but the ninth page of every copy is blank, reserved for the reader’s own debt. The Edgewalker who annotates a copy finds that their marginal notes sometimes answer themselves, in a handwriting that is not their own.
Fhara Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Basin: Crumble a crust into the well. Ignore the first Dry Well penalty.
[SUPERSTITION]Knot the Dipper: Tie a single date-palm fibre around the dipper’s handle. Cancel Coffee Ritual Interrupted or take –1 die on your next negotiation (your choice).
[SUPERSTITION]Name to the Well: Whisper a dead well-keeper’s name into the water. Gain +1 Effect when haggling over water rights this scene, but mark Obligation to the Well-Spirit.
[SUPERSTITION]Coin to the Ghost: Toss a Drowned Coin into a dry well. The ghost of Qalat al-Madina will guide you to water once – and whisper the first syllable of the Omens’ warning.
[SUPERSTITION]
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Well-Judges or Water-Clerks.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby coffee-house guards or date merchants.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for caravan masters or well-spirits.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favourable water access.
Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Local Well-Judge or Oasis Lord becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to sandstorm or mirage.
Foe Appears: A rival oasis guard or obligation collector 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 well-guards, coffee-house enforcers, or camel riders arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes – well dries / coffee warehouse burns / water tablet breaks.
Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.
Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.
Major Turns (4+ SB)
Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.
Authority Arrival: High Well-Judge, Oasis Sheikh, or First Well-Keeper’s ghost intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically – well collapses / oasis floods / date grove burns.
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
Fhara (Water Law): Well-spirits ripple the surface, clay tablets glow, a dipper’s chip grows larger.
Fhara (Coffee Ritual): Beans roast themselves, cups overflow without water, the third cup pours black smoke.
Fhara (Desert): Sand shifts to reveal old bones, mirages speak, a dry well whispers a name.
Fhara (Sunken City): A drowned tablet floats up from a sinkhole, still legible. Its judgment is from a dead judge. It is still binding – and it mentions the Omens.
Fhara (Nerethi): The air hums. A party member forgets why they drew their weapon. A Bond vanishes from the sheet.
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Lore): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Sand Blind.
Cut the Bargain (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a water-share tablet is in your possession, +1 die.
Weather the Khamsin (Endurance + Endurance): On a hit in Sandstorm, you pick who stays on their feet; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (Water & Sand)
The Drought-Maker (Nine Dry Wells) – Phases: Well Poisonings → Orchestrated Famine → Oasis Coup. Cracks: find a hidden spring, expose a false tablet, survive a season without water.
The Coffee-Price (Third Cup Cursed) – Phases: Ritual Interruptions → Procession of Empty Cups → Bargain Baptism of a Merchant. Cracks: relic coffee bean, survivor testimony, the third cup turning sweet again.
The Sunken King (Ghost of Qalat al-Madina) – Phases: Drowned Archive → Curse of the Ninth Well → The Coin’s Reckoning. Cracks: return the Drowned Coin to his skeletal hand, recite the lost water-treaty from a preserved tablet, or convince a living Fhara sheikh to publicly forgive the Kuvani – and to speak the Omen-Whisper aloud.
The Nerethi Hive-Mind – Phases: Memory Theft → Psionic Intrusion → Total Erasure. Cracks: protect a Bond, recover a lost memory, force the Hive to owe a debt.
Among the Fhara, power flows through water, coffee, and the weight of a shared bargain. The Well-Judge’s word is law, the Oasis Lord controls the sluice, and the Caravan Master commands the desert. But no one rules alone – every decision is a negotiation, every negotiation a ritual, every ritual a shared trust.
For the GM: Power in Fhara society is measured in well-depth, coffee cups, and clay tablets. Patronage often takes the form of water-share rights, court writs, or a judge’s dipper – each tied to a specific oasis. To emphasize community and reciprocity rather than obligation:
Tie rewards to physical tokens (tablets, dippers, keys) that represent shared access rather than obligation. Breaking a token is breaking a trust, not a contract.
Let rival oases issue conflicting water claims – resolving them requires a community feast or a joint coffee ritual, not a payment.
Use the well-courts, coffee bazaars, and date groves as arenas for social contests, where a cup of coffee is a shared moment and a dry well is a shared tragedy.
Introduce the Omen-Whisper as a recurring mystery. The party may find fragments of the Omens’ warning carved into ancient well-stones – each fragment a clue to the forbidden knowledge buried beneath Qalat al-Madina.
Nerethi Contrast: Use the Nerethi to challenge the party’s attachment to their Bonds and Obligations. Is a debt worth remembering if it causes pain?
In Fhara society, the sand forgets nothing – and the well remembers every cup shared.
The Narethi — The Unburied of the Deep Desert
“The sun remembers what the sand forgets. We remember both. That is our curse. That is our strength.”
Deep in the Deep Desert, where the Fharan oases give way to cracked salt flats and the bones of failed cities, dwell the Narethi. They are felid — cat-people, in the crude speech of lowland merchants — with tufted ears, slit-pupiled eyes, and a proud, slow way of moving. Their fur ranges from pale cream to deep rust. Their voices carry a harmonic resonance, two pitches at once, as if they are always speaking in duet with a shadow of themselves.
What you notice first: the way they never blink in unison. The scent of myrrh and old copper. The silence when they stop speaking — it is not empty; something is listening.
Where They Live
The Narethi have no cities. They dwell in the Sunken Courts — a network of subterranean chambers carved from ancient salt and basalt, hidden beneath the eastern Deep Desert. The entrance is a sinkhole that smells of ozone. Visitors are blindfolded and led through nine switchbacks before the tunnels open.
The Courts are lit by phosphorescent crystals that pulse faintly, as if breathing. The air is still and dry, scented with myrrh, old blood, and the sweet smell of mummification spices.
The Unburied
At the heart of the Sunken Courts lies the Unburied. Once a Narethi Sorcerer-King — the last of their ruling line — it faced annihilation. Something was coming. Something older than memory. In desperation, the Unburied reached into the Unsunken Well, a font of psionic energy with no known bottom, and pulled. It drew the well’s power into itself — and the thing that slept beneath the well with it.
The Unburied did not die. It transformed. Its body became crystalline — a statue of salt-crusted glass, fused into a throne of petrified wood. Its mind shattered into fragments, each one dreaming a different dream. And the thing that slept beneath the well is now trapped inside it, dreaming with it, their dreams entangled forever.
The Unsunken Well went dry. The Great Silence — the psychic backlash of the Unburied’s choice — killed most of the Narethi and turned the fertile basin into the Deep Desert. The survivors woke with no memory of who they had been.
The Unburied does not speak. It resonates. Its dreams leak into the world through crystals that grow from its body — shards that Narethi cut and polish, using them to commune with the dream.
The Two Dreams
The Unburied does not dream one dream. It dreams two — entangled, arguing, incomplete.
The Unbroken Way is the dream of calm. The Unburied’s regret — its wish that it had found another way. A world where control, discipline, and restraint could have saved its people without destroying them. Followers learn stillness, precision, and the open hand that redirects force rather than meeting it.
The Riven Path is the dream of rage. The Unburied’s fury — its desire to break the thing that forced its hand. A world where power is seized, chains are shattered, and oppression is answered with annihilation. Followers learn passion, liberation, and the closed fist that breaks what it cannot bend.
Both are true. Neither is complete. The Narethi argue about which dream the Unburied truly intends.
Crystals and Communion
Narethi who wish to draw on the Unburied’s power carry a dream crystal — a shard cut from the crystals that grow in the Unburied’s chamber. The crystal hums faintly. When held, it allows the Narethi to hear the dream.
A character with a dream crystal may:
Commune: Spend a scene in meditation to ask the GM one yes/no question about a recent event within the Deep Desert. The dream shows a fragment.
Draw Power: Once per session, spend 1 Fatigue to gain +1 die on a roll involving psionics, perception, or insight. The crystal grows warm.
Follow a Discipline: Narethi who dedicate themselves to one of the two dreams may learn Rites and Talents from the Unbroken Way or Riven Path Patrons (see Chapter 15). Their crystal is their Thiasos; their Codex is a chant passed down orally.
The crystal is not a focus — it is a witness. The Unburied knows when you use it. The Hollow watches.
The Hollow’s Interest
The Unburied broke the most important promise of all: it swore to protect its people, and it killed most of them instead. The Hollow has been collecting interest on that debt for centuries. Every time someone draws on the Unburied’s power, they dip into that debt. The Hollow notices. Use the power too often, and the Hollow will eventually come to collect.
Society and Structure
The Narethi are ruled by the Father of Resonance — an elder who interprets the dream. Her word is law because the dream has foreseen the consequence of disobedience. Below her are Chanters (priests and lore-keepers), Watchers (scouts who patrol the Deep Desert), and Silent Ones (Narethi who have taken vows of silence to better hear the dream).
Factions:
Keepers — Followers of the Unbroken Way. They maintain the crystals and the dream’s stability.
Breakers — Followers of the Riven Path. They believe the Unburied wants to wake, and that the Narethi should help it break free.
The Unbound — Narethi who have left the Courts. They are viewed with suspicion, but they are the only source of news from outside.
Relationship with the Fhara
At the boundary stones marking the edge of the Deep Desert, well-judges leave offerings of salt and dried dates twice a year. The Narethi take them. No one meets. The Fhara call the Narethi the Unremembered. It is not an insult. It is a warning.
The Father’s Secret
The Unburied is not a prisoner. It is a lock. Beneath it, deeper than the Courts, deeper than the salt, something else sleeps. The Unburied’s dream is the only thing keeping it asleep. If the Unburied ever stops dreaming — or if the two dreams ever reconcile — the thing beneath will remember what it was.
The Father does not know what that thing is. Only that the dream’s single word — “Remember” — is not a command to the Narethi. It is a command to the thing below.
Narethi d6 Mini-Generators
Places (Spades)
The Sunken Courts — Subterranean chambers lit by pulsing crystals. [PSIONIC] [SECRET]
The Unburied’s Chamber — The crystalline Sorcerer-King on a throne of petrified wood. The air tastes of copper. [DEATH] [PSIONIC]
The Hall of Lost Syllables — Walls carved with harmonic chants. The ninth syllable is missing. [MEMORY] [RIDDLE]
The Resonant Well — A basin of still, dark water. Touch it and hear the dream. [PSIONIC] [OMEN]
The Watchers’ Perch — A salt-crusted outcropping overlooking the Waste. [WATCH] [STEALTH]
The Salt Pan of Forgotten Names — Cracked white flat where exiled Narethi walk. Do not follow. [DEATH] [MYSTERY]
People & Factions (Hearts)
Father of Resonance — Ancient ruler who interprets the dream. Has not left the Chamber in twenty years. [AUTHORITY] [SECRET]
Listener Chanter — Priest seeking the lost ninth syllable. [PSIONIC] [LORE]
Mute Sentinel — Warrior sworn to silence. Communicates with clay slates. [STEALTH] [COMBAT]
Unbound Exile — Narethi who left the Courts. Works as a caravan scout. Cannot return. [TRAVEL] [TRAGEDY]
The Dream-Echo — Haunted by the Unburied’s dream. Speaks in two voices. [PSIONIC] [CURSE]
Keeper of Teeth — Blind elder who tends the crystals. They are growing. She is afraid. [CRAFT] [OMEN]
Complications (Clubs)
Resonance Bleed — The dream intensifies. Crystals glow brighter. Visitors hear whispers. [PSIONIC] [FEAR]
The Ninth Syllable Spoken — Someone speaks the lost syllable. The Unburied’s mouth twitches. Start Waking Dream [6]. [DEATH] [APOCALYPSE]
Unbound Hunted — An exile begs for passage. Helping earns gratitude — and the Father’s attention. [STEALTH] [POLITICS]
The Crystals Sing — A harmonic tone induces waking visions. Test Spirit+Endurance (DV 4) or mark Fatigue. [PSIONIC] [OMEN]
Mute’s Vow Broken — A Silent One speaks a warning: something wakes beneath the salt. She will not speak again. [TRUTH] [TRAGEDY]
The Salt Pan Walks — Footprints of dead exiles move toward the Courts. They are curious. That is worse. [DEATH] [FEAR]
Rewards & Leverage (Diamonds)
Dream Crystal Shard — Once/session, gain +1 die on a psionic roll. The Unburied knows you used it. [PSIONIC] [LEVERAGE]
Mute’s Clay Slate — Present to any Narethi to demand one truthful answer. The slate cracks after use. [SOCIAL] [TRUTH]
Listener’s Cord — Eight tight knots, one loose. Untie a knot to ask a yes/no question about the dream. [MEMORY] [RIDDLE]
Watcher’s Salt Pouch — Scatter to create a temporary threshold spirits cannot cross. [WARD] [PROTECTION]
Unbound’s Map — Safe route through the Deep Desert. Drawn by an exile who never returned. [TRAVEL] [STEALTH]
The Dream-Echo’s Confession — A fragment of the ninth syllable. Speaking it grants +1 Position with Narethi — but the Unburied remembers your voice. [LEGEND] [DANGER]
Adventure Hooks
The Lost Unbound. A Narethi exile has resurfaced as a mercenary captain. The Father wants them returned — or silenced.
The Resonance Bleed. A Fhara well tastes of copper. Those who drink dream of black glass. The Unburied is restless.
The Silent One’s Plea. A mute Narethi appears with a clay tablet. Deliver it to Thepyrgos. The tablet is growing warm.
The Ninth Syllable. A Tulkani story-singer hums a nine-syllable chant. The Listeners want the singer captured. The Mutes want them silenced.
The Salt Pan Pilgrims. Dead exiles walk toward the Courts, singing a lullaby. The Father wants to know why.
The Crystal’s Hunger. The crystals are growing toward the surface. They are feeding on something. That something is almost gone.
Player Takeaway
A Narethi player character is unbound — they have left the Sunken Courts. They carry a dream crystal. They hear the dream faintly, always.
All Narethi have a minimum of 1 rank in the Psionics skill (if your table uses psionics) or Arcana (reflavored as resonance). This represents the Unburied’s lingering gift.
Work with your GM to determine:
Why did you leave the Courts?
Do you follow the Unbroken Way (calm), the Riven Path (rage), or neither?
Who in the Courts wants you to return — and who wants you dead?
“The ninth syllable is not a sound. It is the space between heartbeats. The Unburied has been counting for a very long time.”
Sidhi
The Diaspora of the Sealed Coast.
Galanina is not a place on a map. It is a promise that our ancestors made to the sea: we will remember, and we will return. The Covenant gave us courts, but the sea gave us memory. The Admiralty gives us tariffs. We give each other salt and stories.
I am a Freedman Sailor. My grandmother wore a brass collar. My mother wore a freedman’s seal. I wear a captain’s ring. The slavers took our names, but they could not take the tide. The tide always comes back. So do we.
The Sidhi are a people of the coast and the diaspora. Their ancestral homeland is Galanina, a rugged shore of limestone cliffs and ancient ports far to the west. The Ashaani magocracy enslaved them for generations, but Galanina broke free under the Covenant of Mykkiel. Now the Sidhi are scattered, fierce, proud, and never forget a debt. But here’s the secret the Admiralty doesn’t want you to know: the Sidhi never stopped running. The Long Trail—the forced migration that scattered them across the Amaranthine—is not a tale told to children. It is a silence. A pause in conversation when someone mentions the eastern passes or the southern coast. An old woman who stops mid-sentence, touches her brass key, and changes the subject. The Sidhi do not forget, but they have learned that memory is a kind of weight—and they have carried it far enough.
The Sidhi of the Brass Coast run the ropeways, the spice auctions, and the port guilds. Their speech is a creole of Ashaani and coastal tongues, their law is maritime, and their symbol is the lighthouse lamp—a green flame that shows the faces of the drowned, so that the dead may witness the living. They are welcome everywhere and trusted nowhere. They prefer it that way.
Never ask about ancestry. The Ashaani slavery raids are a fresh wound. Asking which clan someone belongs to is asking how their grandparents were captured, sold, or killed.
— Captain Idris, Sidhi lighthouse commander, whose left eye is a brass lens
What do people eat for breakfast? Salted fish and flatbread—the fish is dried on the docks, the bread is baked in communal ovens. The ovens are fuelled by driftwood. The driftwood carries the names of lost ships.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To read the lighthouse codes. Sidhi children are taught the eight lamp-flashes: Safe, Danger, Storm, Pirate, Customs, Quarantine, Home, and the ninth—the flash that signals a freedman’s return. The ninth flash is never used. The ninth flash is a promise.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their seal. Every Sidhi freedman carries a brass seal—the mark of their manumission. A stranger whose seal is worn smooth has been free for generations. A stranger whose seal is sharp has just been freed. A stranger with no seal is not a Sidhi. Not a Sidhi is not a person.
What is the most common crime? Seal-forging—but seal-forging is not a crime, it is a necessity. The Admiralty demands proof of freedom. The proof can be forged. The forgers are Sidhi. The Sidhi do not prosecute forgers. The Sidhi hire them.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The brass seals are not brass. They are made from melted chains—the chains that bound the first freedmen. The metal remembers the weight of slavery. The seals are warm. The warmth is the memory of wrists.
Where do people go when they die? To the lighthouse. The dead are not buried. Their ashes are scattered from the tower’s top. The wind carries them to the sea. The sea carries them to Galanina. Galanina is the shore of ancestors. The ancestors are waiting.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer your seal—your own mark of freedom. The seal is melted down and reforged into a chain. The chain is worn by the wronged party. When the wrong is forgiven, the chain is melted again. The metal grows thinner each time. One day, there will be nothing left.
What is the most important festival? The Lighting of the Green Flame (winter solstice). The lighthouse lamps are cleaned and refilled. The green flame is lit. The flame shows the faces of the drowned. The drowned are the ancestors. The ancestors watch. The ancestors do not judge.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The brass seals are not all equal. Some were forged by the Admiralty itself—trap-seals that mark the wearer as a spy. The spies do not know they are spies. Their reports go to the Admiralty. The Admiralty knows everything. The Admiralty has been playing a very long game.
Sidhi Homeland — Galanina, “The Sealed Coast”
Key Demographic: Human Capital: Galanina (city-state)
Quick Reference
Tagline: The sea remembers every child. The green flame burns for the unnumbered.
High Keeper of the Unforgotten (Elite): “The Ashaani came with brass chains and hungry gods. They took our children – not to kill, but to unname. The Covenant drove them back, but the children did not return. We light green flames on every tower so the lost may find their way home. The flames have never stopped.”
Lighthouse Freedman (Commoner): “My grandmother was a child when the Ashaani took her. She came back – but not whole. She forgot her mother’s face. She remembered only the scent of myrrh and the sound of a bell that rang nine times. When she died, we lit a green lamp for her. It still burns. It will burn until she remembers.”
Genre / Mood: Levantine coastal grief, covenant justice, the weight of unnumbered children, green flame memorials.
Starting Location: The Great Lighthouse of Galanina, where a green flame burns in a cage of brass. A High Keeper sits on a stone bench, a list of names longer than her arm. “The Covenant says the Ashaani are gone. But every spring, a child walks into the sea. We find their shoes on the shore. No footprints leading away. The sea is not the sea – it is a door. And someone is leaving it open.”
(1,0)250
Theme & Atmosphere
Galanina is a limestone city on a promontory, its white walls streaked with salt and grief. The Ashaani occupied it for a generation, taking children to be hollowed into spirit vessels. The Covenant broke the siege, but the children never fully returned – some came back empty, their eyes the color of old brass. Now Galanina is a free city under Covenant protection, a waystation for the Sidhi diaspora. Green flames burn in every tower, every home, every lighthouse. The living tend the flames for the unnumbered dead. The sea glows green on winter solstice. And every spring, a child walks into the waves. No one knows why. The Hollow watches from the Unnumbered Shore.
What you notice first: The smell of olive oil and sea salt. The soft ring of brass bells on every doorway. The way every Sidhi touches their lamp before speaking a child’s name. The silence when the green flame flickers.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never extinguish a green lamp. The flame remembers the child it was lit for. To kill the flame is to kill the memory – and the Hollow will ask why.
The Unnumbered List (Campaign Timer)
The children taken by the Ashaani are called the Unnumbered – their names were never recorded, or were erased. Track the Hollow’s interest in the unnumbered with a visible timer:
Unnumbered Grief [8] – Advances when:
A character extinguishes a green lamp (+1)
A child disappears from the shore (+2)
A Hollow Child speaks (GM spends 1 SB to tick +1)
The Ashaani bell rings nine times (+2)
The party learns a name from the Sealed Archive (+1)
At 4 segments: Green flames burn low. The sea is still. The Hollow Children turn their heads toward the shore. At 8 segments: The Unnumbered Shore opens. Roll on the Hollow Walks table. The party must offer a name (living or dead) or the Hollow takes one.
Hollow Walks (d6)
When the Unnumbered Grief timer reaches 8, roll 1d6 for the manifestation:
A ghost child appears on the shore. It asks: “Where is my mother?” The first PC to answer must give a true name of a living person. The ghost will follow that person for a day.
The sea throws back a child’s shoe. Inside is a note: “We are still waiting.” The next green lamp the party touches gutters. Tick the timer back to 0, but the GM gains 3 SB.
A Hollow Child points at a PC. That PC now hears children’s laughter in every empty room. Until they make an offering at the Ninth Name Shrine, all stealth rolls are Desperate.
The Oath-Keeper appears at the Green Bazaar. It asks for a name from the Sealed Archive. If the party gives one, the timer resets. If they refuse, the Hollow takes the name of the nearest child (NPC) – that child vanishes.
The Great Lighthouse flame turns blue. The High Keeper weeps. For the next scene, any lie spoken within Galanina is heard by every green lamp in the city. The GM gains 1 SB per lie.
The Unnumbered Shore is covered with wet footprints – hundreds of them, all leading inland. The Hollow Children walk among the living for one night. They do not speak. They only watch. Any PC who fails a Spirit + Endurance test (DV 4) forgets the face of a loved one for a day.
Lamp Etiquette Violations (d6)
When a PC breaks lamp custom (extinguishes a green lamp, refuses to light one for a child, steals a lamp’s name), roll 1d6:
| d6 | Consequence |
|---|---|
| 1 | The lamp’s child appears in a dream. It asks for a story. If you cannot tell one, you wake with 1 Fatigue. |
| 2 | The green flame spits ash at you. You gain the Condition Ash-Touched (–1 die on all social rolls with Sidhi for a week). |
| 3 | A Hollow Child follows you. It does not attack. It only stares. Until you make amends, all stealth rolls are Desperate. |
| 4 | The Oath-Keeper writes your name in its ledger. The Hollow will visit you within nine days unless you light a lamp for an unnumbered child (costs 1 Supply). |
| 5 | The High Keeper bans you from the Great Lighthouse. You cannot access the Sealed Archive or the Unnumbered Shore. The ban lifts only after you recover a stolen lamp. |
| 6 | The sea rises. A wave washes over your camp. Lose 1 Supply (salt damage) and tick Unnumbered Grief +1. The Hollow Children laugh. |
Prominent NPCs of Galanina
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumored Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| High Keeper Eliron | Keeper of the Great Lighthouse | Remember the unnumbered, one name at a time | She has nine hundred names. She does not know the last nine. |
| Lamp-Maker Shalvi | Artisan of brass and glass | Make a lamp that never gutters | Her hands are stained green. She cannot wash it off. |
| Covenant Judge Vered | Silent arbiter of the Sealed Gate | Keep the names from the Ashaani | She has not spoken in nine years. Her judgments are written. |
| The Hollow Child (unnamed) | One of the returned children | Watch. Always watch. | Her eyes are brass. She never blinks. |
| Covenant Marine Captain Yaron | Commander of the Reckoning | Hunt the slavers who took his daughter | He carries her green lamp. He has never lit it. |
| Ashaani Remnant (spy) | Veiled Sister in disguise | Recover the names from the Sealed Archive | Her brass bell rings when she lies. It rings often. |
Names of Galanina
Levantine / Phoenician / Canaanite influences: soft consonants, vowel endings, familial suffixes.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Surname / House | Epithet |
|---|---|---|---|
| Eliron | Tamira | Gubla-im | the Unforgotten |
| Yaron | Shalvi | Byblos-on | the Lamp-Born |
| Adoni | Elissa | Sidoni | the Green-Flamed |
| Zuriel | Ba’alat | Tyri-ba’al | the Unnumbered |
| Mahir | Anat | Arvad-im | the Hollow-Watched |
| Shemarya | Hodaya | Zephon-on | the Ninth Child |
(Lighthouse/Shore/Quarter)
Great Lighthouse with green flame; Unnumbered Shore with wet sand and children’s footprints; Lamp-Maker’s Quarter with brass and glass.
Spades — Places
Great Lighthouse of Galanina [LIGHT] [DEATH] Limestone tower, green flame visible for a day’s sail. The oil is from olives grown in the Vale of Tears. The lighthouse keeper is blind; she saw the ninth child walk into the sea. Mechanical hook: Lighting a lamp here (Spirit+Lore DV 3) clears 1 Fatigue but gives you a vision of a missing child. The GM gains 1 SB.
The Unnumbered Shore [THRESHOLD] [DEATH] Beach where green lamps are placed each solstice. At low tide, remains of an Ashaani pier. On moonless nights, children’s footprints appear. They lead to the water. They never lead back. Mechanical hook: A character who follows the footprints must test Spirit + Endurance (DV 5). On failure, they walk into the sea – rescued only if another PC acts immediately.
Covenant Citadel (Sealed Gate) [JUSTICE] [SECRET] Gray fortress on Ashaani temple ruins. Walls carved with names of taken children. The ninth name is blank. The Covenant judge has not spoken in nine years. Mechanical hook: Asking the judge a question requires a written petition. The judge’s answer is always a single word. That word is a name.
Lamp-Maker’s Quarter [CRAFT] [MEMORY] Narrow alleys where artisans hammer brass and blow glass. Oldest lamps have names etched inside. The lamps hum at midnight. Mechanical hook: Buying a lamp (1 Supply) gives you a Green Lamp (see Diamonds). The lamp-maker will ask for a name to etch. If you give a false name, the lamp gutters.
The Sealed Archive [SECRET] [WEIGHT] Subterranean vault beneath the lighthouse. Spiral stair of nine steps. The ninth step is a trap. Inside: the Covenants’ copies of Ashaani treaties. The ninth treaty lists the children given away. The ink is still wet. Mechanical hook: Reading the ninth treaty (Wits+Lore DV 5) reveals one name of a taken child. Tick Unnumbered Grief +1. The name can be used to bargain with the Hollow.
The Green Bazaar [TRADE] [DEATH] Market where everything is sold by lamp-light. Real trade is in names. A forgotten name can be bought for a silver coin. The Hollow visits on the ninth night of every month. Mechanical hook: Buying a name (1 Boon) gives you a Forgotten Name (once, use to compel a confession from anyone who knew that person). The Hollow will remember you.
The Hollow Children’s Home [FEAR] [MYSTERY] Stone building with no windows, set back from the shore. The hollowed children live here. They do not speak, eat, or sleep. They only watch. Their eyes are the color of old brass. Mechanical hook: Spending a scene watching with them (no roll) gives you a vision of the Ashaani ritual. The GM must answer one question about the Hollow Children’s origin.
Vale of Tears [RITUAL] [SORROW] Olive grove where the Ashaani camped. The olives are bitter. Oil from them burns green. Women weep here for the unnumbered. Their tears are collected and poured into the lighthouse flame. Mechanical hook: Collecting a tear (Wits+Lore DV 3) gives you a Tear of the Vale (see Diamonds). Drinking a tear restores 1 Fatigue but gives you a vision of a child’s disappearance.
The Ninth Name Shrine [DEATH] [FEAR] Stone chapel at the edge of the Unnumbered Shore. Brass plaque with nine blank spaces. Pilgrims scratch their own names into the brass. The names vanish by morning. The Hollow collects them. Mechanical hook: Scratching your name gives the GM a permanent String. You may ask one question of the Hollow; it will answer truthfully but cryptically.
The Covenant Docks [AUTHORITY] [OMEN] Fortified harbour where Covenant warships anchor. Ships are white with green trim. Ninth ship in every fleet is named Unnumbered. It has never returned from patrol. Mechanical hook: A captain offers you passage. The price is a name of a child you knew. If you cannot give one, you must sail on the Unnumbered. The ship will return – but you may not.
The Brass Bell Tower [OMEN] [DEATH] A tower with nine brass bells. The ninth bell is cracked. It rings only when a child is about to be taken. The sound is a scream. No one climbs the tower. Mechanical hook: If the ninth bell rings during a scene, tick Unnumbered Grief +2. The party has one exchange to find the child before the Hollow takes them.
The Ashaani Well [WATER] [CURSE] A stone well in the old quarter, sealed by the Covenant. The water is black. It tastes of myrrh and copper. The Ashaani used it to wash the children before the ritual. The well still whispers. Mechanical hook: Drinking from the well (Spirit + Endurance test DV 4) gives you a vision of the ritual. On failure, you gain the Condition Well-Touched (nightmares; –1 die on Resolve tests) for a week.
The Unnamed Gate (Myth) [LEGEND] [THRESHOLD] A door that appears only on the winter solstice, on the Unnumbered Shore. It is made of brass and bone. Open it, and you may walk into the Hollow’s domain. The price is a name you have never spoken. Mechanical hook: Entering the gate resets Unnumbered Grief to 0 but gives the GM 5 SB. The party emerges one day later with no memory of what they saw – except that they know one name from the Sealed Archive.
(Keepers/Makers/Children)
High Keeper with a list of names; lamp-maker with green-stained hands; a Hollow Child who watches.
Hearts — People & Factions
High Keeper Eliron [AUTHORITY] [SORROW] Aged, one eye missing (taken by an Ashaani interrogator). She tends the Great Lighthouse. She whispers the names of the unnumbered each dusk. She has nine hundred names. She has nine more to learn before she dies. She does not know whose they are. What they carry: She knows the location of the Sealed Archive’s ninth lock. She will trade the secret for a name of a living child (to add to her list). What they ask: A day of silent vigil at the lighthouse (no roll). If you speak, you must leave.
Lamp-Maker Shalvi [CRAFT] [MEMORY] Woman with brass-stained hands and a copper bell on her belt. She makes lamps for the unnumbered. Each lamp is a prayer. She has made nine hundred lamps. The nine hundredth lamp lit itself when she finished it. It shows a face she does not recognize – her own, as a child, before the Ashaani took her sister. What they carry: She will make you a lamp (1 Supply). If you give her a name to etch, the lamp will never gutter. The name must be true. What they ask: A story about a child who was lost. She knots it into the lamp’s wick.
Covenant Judge Vered [JUSTICE] [SECRET] Silent figure in gray, carrying a ledger bound in green leather. She never speaks. She writes her judgments on clay tablets. The tablets are fired in the Great Lighthouse flame. The unnumbered can read them. The living cannot. What they carry: She has a tablet with the names of the nine children the Covenant traded. She will show it to anyone who brings her a lamp stolen from a Hollow Child. What they ask: A written confession of a crime you have committed. She will not say why.
The Hollow Child (unnamed) [FEAR] [OMEN] One of the returned children. She has not aged in fifty years. Her eyes are brass. She never blinks. She sits on the shore at low tide, facing the sea. She will not speak – but if you sit beside her, she will point at the horizon. The direction she points is where the next child will disappear. What they carry: Nothing. She does not trade. She only witnesses. What they ask: Your name. If you give it, she will remember it. The Hollow will know it.
Covenant Marine Captain Yaron [COMBAT] [GRIEF] Scarred veteran who lost his daughter to the Ashaani. He hunts slavers now. His ship is named Reckoning. He carries a green lamp on his belt – his daughter’s. He has never lit it. He is waiting for her to come home. What they carry: He will escort you through Covenant waters for free if you promise to help him find a slaver ship. The promise is a lamp oath – break it, and your own lamp will gutter. What they ask: A name of a child who was taken but not listed. He adds it to his daughter’s lamp.
Ashaani Remnant (Spy) [DECEPTION] [POLITICS] Veiled Sister in disguise, posing as a Dhaharan spice merchant. She seeks the names of the children in the Sealed Archive – to finish the ritual her ancestors began. She carries a brass bell that rings only when she lies. It rings often. What they carry: She offers forged Covenant writs (1 Boon) that let you bypass checkpoints. The writs are stamped with a bell. The bell’s ring is false. What they ask: Access to the Sealed Archive. She will pay in Ashaani gold – cursed, but still spends.
Olive-Grove Keeper Tamira [RITUAL] [MYSTERY] Woman who tends the Vale of Tears. She collects tears in clay jars. She knows whose tears are whose. She will not tell. She says the tears are a weight that must be carried. The Hollow visits her each new moon. They talk. She does not say about what. What they carry: A jar of tears (1 Supply). Pour them into any lamp, and the flame will show the face of the person who wept them. What they ask: A tear of your own. She will not explain.
Sidhi Freedman Merchant [TRADE] [HERITAGE] Trader from the Brass Coast diaspora, returned to Galanina to honor his grandmother’s lamp. He sells Galaninan glass in Dhahara and Dhaharan spice in Galanina. He carries two lamps – one green (for the unnumbered), one brass (for profit). He never mixes the flames. What they carry: He offers a Green Lamp (see Diamonds) for 1 Supply or a story about a child who returned. What they ask: A name to carve into a lamp. He will not say whose.
The Ninth Child’s Ghost [DEATH] [LEGEND] Translucent figure seen only at the Ninth Name Shrine. She was the last child the Ashaani took. She did not go quietly. She clawed the name “Covenant” into the brass before she vanished. The scratch marks are still there. They bleed rust. What they carry: She will give you a shard of brass from the plaque. The shard is warm. It can be used as a witness for any oath (once). What they ask: A promise that you will remember her name. Her name is scratched on the shard. It is the only copy.
The Hollow’s Enforcer (Oath-Keeper) [DEATH] [WEIGHT] Faceless figure seen at the Green Bazaar on the ninth night. It asks only one question: “What name did you forget?” If you answer truthfully, it writes the name in its ledger and leaves. If you lie, it writes your name instead. The Hollow will visit you within nine days. What they carry: It cannot be bargained with. Only a true name of a taken child can satisfy it. What they ask: A name. It already knows.
The First Freedman (Ghost) [LEGEND] [JUSTICE] The first Sidhi to buy his freedom after the Ashaani occupation. He sits at the bottom of the Ninth Name Shrine. He asks every visitor: “Did you light a lamp for me?” No one knows his name. He will not tell. What they carry: If you light a lamp for him (1 Supply), he will teach you a Lamp Oath – a promise that cannot be broken without the Hollow’s attention. What they ask: A name. He collects them. He will not say why.
The Unnumbered Mother (Myth) [PATRON] [SORROW] A figure in gray who walks the Unnumbered Shore at dawn. She was the mother of the first child taken. She walks still, calling names that no one answers. If you hear her call your name, you have one day to find a child to take your place – or you will walk into the sea. What they carry: She offers no bargains. She only collects. What they ask: Your name. She will not stop calling until you give it.
(Flame/Shore/Bell)
Green flame gutters – a child’s lamp goes out; the Unnumbered Shore weeps – sea throws back a child’s shoe; the ninth bell rings – a child is about to vanish.
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Lamp Gutters [DEATH] [WEIGHT] A child’s memorial lamp flickers and dies. The flame cannot be relit. The child’s name is now unnumbered. The next night, that child walks into the sea. The party can prevent it only by giving the Hollow a new name – a living one. Mechanical hook: Tick Unnumbered Grief +1. The party has until midnight to find a substitute name or a story that satisfies the Hollow.
Covenant Judgment [JUSTICE] [FEAR] The silent judge writes a name on a clay tablet. The name is yours. You have nine days to prove you are not a slaver – or to flee Galanina. The Covenant does not accept appeals. The green flame will witness your trial. Mechanical hook: A PC must appear before the judge. They may present evidence (Wits+Insight DV 4) or a witness (Presence+Sway DV 4). Failure results in exile – the PC cannot return to Galanina for a year.
Ashaani Bell Rings [COMBAT] [DECEPTION] A Veiled Sister’s bell rings nine times. The Hollow Children stir. They point at the sea. A ship is coming – a slaver ship disguised as a Dhaharan trader. The party has one hour to warn the Covenant or to stop the ship themselves. Mechanical hook: The ship has Cap 4 slavers. If the party stops it, gain a Covenant Writ of Passage. If they fail, tick Unnumbered Grief +2 and a child is taken.
The Unnumbered Shore Weeps [OMEN] [DEATH] The sea throws back a child’s shoe. It is still warm. Inside is a note: “We are still waiting.” The writing is in Ashaani. The shoe belonged to a child taken fifty years ago. The next night, the Hollow walks the shore. Mechanical hook: The party must make an offering (1 Supply or a story) at the Ninth Name Shrine before dawn. Failure means the Hollow takes a name from the party (GM chooses one Bond to erase temporarily).
Lamp-Maker’s Bargain [TRADE] [SORROW] Shalvi offers to make you a lamp that never goes out. The price is a memory of a child you loved. If you accept, you forget that child completely. The lamp burns green. The child’s name is added to the Unnumbered List. Mechanical hook: The player loses one Bond (the child). The lamp acts as a Green Lamp (see Diamonds) but cannot be used again. The Hollow will remind you of the child’s name in dreams (GM gains 1 SB per session).
The Ninth Name Fills [DEATH] [FEAR] The ninth blank on the brass plaque suddenly shows a name: yours. The Hollow Children turn their heads toward you. The Oath-Keeper appears. It asks: “When did you forget?” You have nine breaths to answer. If you cannot, the Hollow takes your shadow. Mechanical hook: The PC must answer truthfully (Spirit + Endurance test DV 5). On failure, they lose their shadow for a week (–1 die on all stealth rolls). The GM gains a permanent String on them.
Green Bazaar Closed [TRADE] [OMEN] The market is empty. Stalls are shuttered. Lamps are dark. The Hollow visited last night. It took nine names. The merchants are afraid. They will not trade until a new lamp is lit for each name. Mechanical hook: The party must light nine lamps (1 Supply each) or find another source of supplies. Until then, all trade in Galanina is at +1 DV.
Hollow Child Speaks [FEAR] [MYSTERY] One of the Hollow Children opens its mouth. It speaks a single word: a name – the name of a PC. That PC now sees the Hollow Children everywhere. They do not attack. They only watch. Mechanical hook: The PC suffers –1 die on all Resolve tests until they make an offering at the Great Lighthouse (1 Supply). The Hollow Child will not speak again.
Covenant Fleet Blockade [AUTHORITY] [WAR] The Covenant has sealed the harbour. No one leaves. A slaver ship escaped last week with a child. The Covenant blames the Sidhi. Tensions are high. The party is caught in the middle. Mechanical hook: The party must prove the Sidhi are innocent (Investigation test DV 4) or help the Covenant find the real slavers. Failure leads to a riot – treat as a Cap 3 mob.
The Unnamed Gate Opens [LEGEND] [APOCALYPSE] The brass-and-bone door appears on the Unnumbered Shore. It is not solstice. It should not be here. The sea is calm. Too calm. The Hollow Children walk toward it, one by one. If they all enter, the Hollow will have nine new servants. Mechanical hook: The party has one scene to stop the children or to enter the gate themselves. Tick Unnumbered Grief to maximum. The Hollow now walks openly in Galanina.
(Lamp/Name/Tear)
Green lamp (once, calm the Hollow); forgotten name (compel a confession); tear of the Vale (restore Fatigue, gain a vision).
Diamonds — Treasures & Discoveries
Green Lamp (Memorial) [PROTECTION] [ONCE] Small brass lamp that burns green without oil. Carry it to calm the Hollow for one scene. The flame flickers when a child is about to be taken – you have one exchange to prevent it. The lamp cannot be used again. Hollow cost: After use, the lamp’s wick turns black. The Hollow knows you prevented a taking. It will remember.
Lamp-Maker’s Name [SOCIAL] [TRUTH] Brass token with a name scratched on it. Present it to any Galaninan to demand a single truth. The name is of a child who was taken. The speaker cannot lie – the child’s ghost is watching. The token crumbles after use. Hollow cost: The ghost of that child will visit you in dreams until you light a lamp for them (1 Supply).
Sealed Archive Key [SECRET] [WEIGHT] Brass key that opens the ninth lock of the Sealed Archive. The ninth lock is a bell. Turn the key, and the bell rings once. The archive door opens – but the Oath-Keeper will know you entered. You have nine minutes inside. Hollow cost: The Oath-Keeper will ask you one question about what you saw. If you lie, it writes your name in its ledger.
Covenant Writ of Passage [AUTHORITY] [TRAVEL] Clay tablet stamped with the Covenant seal. Safe passage through any Covenant checkpoint. The seal is warm. If you break Covenant law, the seal burns your skin (1 Harm). The writ is valid for one journey. Hollow cost: The seal’s warmth attracts the Hollow. Tick Unnumbered Grief +1 each time you use it.
Hollow Child’s Pointing [OMEN] [DEBT] A child points at a person. That person will be the next to vanish – or will be the one who saves the next child. The GM must reveal which. The pointing can be used once per session. The child does not speak. They never lie. Hollow cost: After using, the child follows you for a day. The GM may spend 1 SB to have them point again – at a PC.
Tear of the Vale [RITUAL] [PROTECTION] Vial of tears collected from the olive grove. Pour it into any water, and the Hollow will avoid crossing that water for one day. The water becomes bitter. Drinking it restores 1 Fatigue but gives you a vision of a child who was taken. The vision costs 1 Corruption. Hollow cost: The Hollow will remember your scent. The next time you cross water, the GM may spend 1 SB to have the Hollow appear.
Brass Shard (Ninth Child’s Plaque) [WITNESS] [ONCE] Shard of brass from the Ninth Name Shrine. Touch it to any oath to make it witnessed by the unnumbered. Breaking the oath ticks Unnumbered Grief +2 and the Hollow will visit the oath-breaker. The shard crumbles after use. Hollow cost: The ninth child’s ghost will appear and ask: “Did you keep your word?” If you broke the oath, she takes a memory.
Lamp Oath (The First Freedman’s Teaching) [VOW] [ONCE] A promise sworn over a green lamp. The oath is binding – breaking it extinguishes the lamp and ticks Unnumbered Grief +3. The oath can be used as a String against the oath-taker. Hollow cost: The lamp’s flame turns blue while the oath is active. The Hollow can see you through the flame.
Unnumbered List (Page) [WEIGHT] [SECRET] A single page from the High Keeper’s list. It contains nine names of taken children. Speak a name aloud, and the Hollow will answer one question about that child. The page burns after nine uses. Hollow cost: Each time you use it, the Hollow asks you: “What name will you give in return?” If you cannot give one, it takes a memory.
The Unnamed Gate Key (Myth) [LEGEND] [ARTIFACT] A key made of brass and bone. It opens the Unnamed Gate on any night – not just solstice. The gate leads to the Hollow’s domain. The key can be used once. After that, it turns to dust. Hollow cost: Using the key invites the Hollow’s attention. Tick Unnumbered Grief to maximum. The Hollow will follow you until you die – or until you give it a name it does not know.
Quick use notes
Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = treasure. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).
Treasures (Diamonds) are codified outcomes (lamps, names, tears, keys) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo grief-omens: a green flame gutters, a child’s shoe washes ashore, the ninth bell rings, the sea glows green at noon.
Track the Unnumbered Grief [8] timer as a campaign-wide pressure. Use the Hollow Walks table when it reaches 8.
Additional Features
Lamp Oaths: Swearing a promise over a green lamp binds the speaker. If broken, the lamp gutters and the Hollow visits the oath-breaker within nine days. The oath-breaker may appease the Hollow by lighting a new lamp for an unnumbered child (costs 1 Supply).
Green Flame Justice: In Galanina, a witness may demand a trial by green flame. The accused holds a green lamp. If the flame burns true, they are innocent. If it gutters, they are guilty – and the Hollow takes them. No appeal.
Tears of the Vale: Once per session, a character may collect tears from the olive grove (Wits+Lore DV 3). A tear can be used to calm the Hollow for one exchange or to restore 1 Fatigue (drinking it). The Hollow will remember the drinker.
The Unnumbered List: The High Keeper maintains a list of names. A character who learns a name from the list may use it to bargain with the Hollow – the name can be offered in place of a memory or a life. The list has nine hundred names. The last nine are blank.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
The Brass Coast Sidhi Diaspora: Galaninan green lamps are carried by Sidhi freedmen across the Amaranthine. A lamp from Galanina is a proof of ancestry; a lamp that gutters is a family’s shame.
The Covenant (Mykkiel): The Covenant maintains a permanent garrison at Galanina. The judge there has authority to overrule any admiralty court in matters of slavery. The judge’s silence is a vow – to speak would be to forget.
Ashaan (The Veiled Throne): Ashaan still claims Galanina as a lost province. Veiled Sisters send spies to retrieve the names of the children – to finish the ritual that would unseal the Hollow. The ritual requires nine names. The Sisters have eight.
The Eastern Realms (The Hollow): The Unnumbered Shore is considered a thin place by Aelaerem hedge-keepers. They leave green thread offerings there, hoping to guide the children home. The thread is always found wet – and knotted in a pattern no human tied.
Saikou Ira’s Compendium: The Ninth Name Shrine is a known anchor for Oath-Keepers. Saikou Ira left a silver mirror there. The mirror shows not the viewer’s face, but the face of the child they failed to protect. The mirror has nine cracks. The ninth crack weeps.
Galanina Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Flame: Crumble a crust into a green lamp. Ignore the first Lamp Gutters penalty.
Knot the Wick: Tie a single knot in a lamp’s wick. Cancel Ashaani Bell Rings or take –1 die on your next deception roll (your choice).
Name to the Sea: Whisper a dead child’s name into the Unnumbered Shore. Gain +1 Effect when bargaining with the Hollow this scene, but mark Obligation to the High Keeper.
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Covenant marines or lamp-makers.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby Hollow Children or lighthouse keepers.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for the Oath-Keeper or Ashaani spies.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favourable tide.
Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: High Keeper or Covenant judge becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to fog or a green flash from the lighthouse.
Foe Appears: A Hollow Child or Ashaani spy 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 Covenant marines, Hollow Children, or Ashaani agents arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes – lamp gutters / sea weeps / ninth bell rings.
Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.
Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.
Major Turns (4+ SB)
Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.
Authority Arrival: High Keeper Eliron, Covenant Judge Vered, or the Unnumbered Mother intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically – green flames turn blue / sea claims the shore / Unnamed Gate opens.
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
Galanina (Green Flame): Lamps flicker in unison, the sea reflects the lighthouse beam, a child’s laughter echoes from the empty shore.
Galanina (Unnumbered): You hear a name you thought you had forgotten; a child’s footprint appears in your camp; the Hollow Children turn their heads toward you.
Galanina (Covenant Justice): A clay tablet with your name appears on your bed; the judge’s silent figure watches from a doorway; your shadow is missing a finger.
Boss Archetypes in Galanina
The Unnumbered Mother (Grief/Threshold) – A gray figure who walks the shore calling names. Phases: Calling → Weeping → Claiming. Cracks: a Green Lamp lit for her lost child; a Tear of the Vale offered in silence; the name of the first child (found in the Sealed Archive).
The Hollow’s Enforcer (Debt/Justice) – Faceless ledger-keeper who writes names. Phases: Question → Ledger Open → Name Taken. Cracks: a Forgotten Name given freely; a Lamp Oath sworn in its presence; a name from the Unnumbered List spoken without fear.
The Ashaani Bell-Ringer (Veiled Sister) – Spy who seeks the ninth name. Phases: Bell Tolls → Children Stir → Ritual Begins. Cracks: expose her true face (she has none); destroy her brass bell; give her a false name – the Hollow will take her instead.
The Covenant Judge’s Silence (Justice/Secrecy) – A judge who has not spoken in nine years. Phases: Tablet Written → Witness Summoned → Sentence Sealed. Cracks: make her speak (requires a name from the Sealed Archive); burn her tablet; confess a crime she cannot judge (the Hollow will judge instead).
Faction Entanglements
Covenant Garrison: Respect lamp law (never extinguish a green flame) or face the judge’s silence. Bringing a slaver to the Covenant reduces the next travel DV by 1.
Lamp-Makers’ Guild: Commission a lamp (1 Supply) to gain +1 die on social rolls with Sidhi. Anger them (break a lamp oath) and the guild will refuse to sell you wicks – all lamp-based bonuses are lost.
Hollow Children: They do not speak, but they witness. A Hollow Child’s pointing can be used as an omen (once per session). If you harm a Hollow Child, the Unnumbered Mother will call your name.
Ashaani Remnant: They trade in names. A name from the Sealed Archive can buy safe passage through Ashaani waters – but the Hollow will learn that name. The Veiled Sister’s bell rings when she lies. It rings often.
High Keeper’s Circle: Lighting a lamp for an unnumbered child (1 Supply) clears 1 Fatigue for all who witness. If you refuse to light a lamp when asked, the High Keeper will remember. The Hollow will too.
Cross-Regional Ties
Brass Coast Sidhi Diaspora: Galaninan green lamps are carried by Sidhi freedmen across the Amaranthine. A lamp from Galanina is a proof of ancestry; a lamp that gutters is a family’s shame. The Sidhi of the Brass Coast will honor a Galaninan lamp as a letter of credit.
Covenant (Mykkiel): The Covenant garrison at Galanina reports directly to the High Synod. A Covenant Writ of Passage from Galanina is accepted in any Covenant court. The judge’s silence is a vow – to speak would be to forget. The Covenant has forgotten many things.
Ashaan (Veiled Throne): The Veiled Sisters have tried to infiltrate Galanina nine times. The ninth attempt is ongoing. The spy’s bell rings when she lies. It rings often. The Hollow listens.
Eastern Realms (The Hollow): The Unnumbered Shore is considered a thin place by Aelaerem hedge-keepers. They leave green thread offerings there, hoping to guide the children home. The thread is always found wet – and knotted in a pattern no human tied. The knot spells a name.
Dhahara (Kalrantha Amulet): The Sealed Archive contains a fragment of the Kalrantha amulet – a shard of green glass that the Ashaani used in their ritual. The shard is warm. It whispers the names of the children. The Covenant does not know it is there. The Hollow does.
Encounter Seeds (Quick Hooks)
The Ninth Lamp: A lamp in the Green Bazaar begins to gutter. The lamp-maker refuses to touch it. The lamp’s name is that of a PC’s ancestor. The Hollow wants that name – or the PC’s.
The Unnamed Gate Opens (Early): The brass-and-bone door appears on the Unnumbered Shore. It is not solstice. A Hollow Child walks toward it. The party has nine rounds to stop the child – or to follow.
The High Keeper’s Dream: The High Keeper has a dream of a child’s face. The child is alive – somewhere. She offers a Green Lamp to anyone who finds the child. The child is in Ashaan. The Veiled Sisters are watching.
The Oath-Keeper’s Question: The Oath-Keeper appears at the party’s camp. It asks: “What name did you forget?” If the party cannot answer, it writes a name from the Unnumbered List – and that child will walk into the sea within the week.
Pereshi
The Roof of the Way.
The fire does not forget. It has witnessed every oath sworn in this valley, every treaty sealed with a dropped coal, every lie told in its light. I do not tend the flame. I listen to what it remembers. And it remembers everything.
I am a Caravan Scribe. My grandfather copied a tax ledger that had not been opened in three centuries. He found a mistake—a single miscounted bale of silk. That mistake started a war. We do not write for the living. We write for the dead who cannot correct their errors.
The Pereshi highlands are a vast, windswept plateau, cut by deep river valleys and crowned with snow-capped peaks. Ancient fire temples stand beside caravanserais; terraced vineyards climb the hillsides. The people are scholars, shepherds, and traders—proud, suspicious, and bound by a code of hospitality that demands three days of feasting for any guest, and three generations of vengeance for any insult. But here’s the secret the Flame-Keepers don’t want you to know: the fire in the temple is not just a flame. It is a witness. It has seen every oath sworn in this valley, every treaty sealed with a dropped coal, every lie told in its light. And it remembers everything. Including the Prince’s true name.
Once, the Forgotten Ashaani Prince conquered this land. He built garrisons, taxed the passes, and tried to burn every library. When he and his kingdom vanished into the sand—swallowed by the same curse that turned the desert to glass—the Pereshi rose. They threw down his garrisons, brick by brick, and sealed his name in a scroll they have never reopened. They have not forgotten. Every fire temple keeps a coal from the Prince’s own brazier—the ninth coal, never lit, a promise that his darkness will not return.
Never step on a fallen book. Written words carry the weight of law. To step on a book is to trample a contract, a genealogy, a verdict. The spirits of the words will haunt you.
— Flame-Keeper Zarifa, who has never been seen without a rose—fresh or dried
What do people eat for breakfast? Flatbread with honey and clotted cream—the honey is from highland bees, the cream is from goats that graze the temple steps. The goats are sacred. The goats are also delicious. The bread is baked in ovens heated with coals from the temple fire; families take turns carrying the embers home. A coal that goes out before dawn is a bad omen.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To read a contract. Pereshi children are taught the eight clauses of the Covenant: Offer, Acceptance, Witness, Consideration, Term, Breach, Remedy, and the ninth—the silence where the unspoken terms live. The ninth clause is never written. The ninth clause is the one that kills you. Children also learn to check the ninth coal in the family shrine each morning. If it has grown warm overnight, they must wake the Flame-Keeper.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their book. Every Pereshi carries a ledger—their personal account of debts owed and collected. A stranger whose ledger is thick has many debts. A stranger whose ledger is thin has many creditors. A stranger with no ledger is a liar. Liars are not fed. But these days, the first thing many notice is whether the stranger casts a shadow. The Prince’s shadow has been seen walking alone.
What is the most common crime? Contract forgery—but forgery is not a crime, it is an art. The Pereshi courts are full of forged documents. The judges are forgers themselves. The law is a negotiation. The negotiation never ends. The newest crime is shadow-theft: someone steals another’s shadow to feed to the Prince. The victim becomes pale, listless, and cannot lie—but also cannot keep a secret.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Forgotten Prince did not vanish. He is buried beneath the largest fire temple, in a lead-lined coffin sealed with nine locks. The keys are held by the nine Flame-Keepers. The Flame-Keepers have never met. The Flame-Keepers do not know each other’s names. The Prince’s name is written on the inside of the coffin lid. No one has read it in nine centuries—but lately the lid has begun to sweat. A rust-colored liquid seeps from the seams.
Where do people go when they die? To the fire. The dead are cremated on the temple pyres. Their ashes are mixed with clay and pressed into bricks. The bricks are used to build new temples. The dead become walls. The walls witness. The walls do not forget—and they whisper the names of those who still live. Some walls have started to whisper a name that is not on any ledger.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a coal—a burning ember from the temple fire. The coal is placed in the wronged party’s hearth. If it stays lit, you are forgiven. If it smoulders, you are watched. If it goes out, you are cursed. The curse is the fire’s silence. The fire will not speak for you again. Some say that if the coal goes out, the Prince’s shadow will visit you that night. It asks only one question: ”Why should I not take your name?“
What is the most important festival? The Reading of the Ledgers (autumn). Every household brings its ledger to the temple. The ledgers are read aloud. The debts are tallied. The dead are named. The fire listens. The fire does not interrupt—but the ninth coal flickers when a lie is spoken. This year, the coal has not stopped flickering.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The ninth coal is not coal. It is a piece of the Forgotten Prince’s heart, petrified by the curse that swallowed his kingdom. The Flame-Keepers do not know. They think it is a relic. The heart is still warm. The heart is still beating. The heart is waiting to be reunited with the rest of him. And someone has been feeding it blood—a drop each night, from a different Flame-Keeper. No one knows who. No one wants to know who.
Pereshi — “The Roof of the Way”
Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Khvarena
Region Diagnostic Template
Pereshi Highlands
Current Hook (one sentence)
Core Conflict (one sentence)
The One Thing Only This Region Does
Interactive Mechanics (player-facing)
=0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠ 1 ] Verse Law: Recite a correct epic verse to win a legal dispute automatically; incorrect recitation marks Fatigue 1.
=0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡ 2 ] Fire-Reading: Toss ash into a brazier to ask one yes/no question; the flame color answers, but the ninth ash-flake belongs to the Hollow.
=0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣ 3 ] Name Erasure: Yield a true name to settle a debt; the named person begins to be forgotten by strangers, then family, then self.
=0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢ 4 ] Ninth Coal Token: Spend a warm coal fragment to reroll a failed negotiation with a Pereshi, but the Prince remembers your face.
Campaign Timers (GM-facing)
Prince’s Shadow Timer [8] – Advances when: Party breaks an oath, a Flame-Keeper dies without passing secrets, or the Prince’s name is spoken. At full: The Prince manifests as a possessive ghost offering kingdoms for names.
Archive Integrity Timer [6] – Advances when: Players investigate the sealed archives or steal scrolls. At full: The Archive weeps; erased names return as haunting whispers demanding restitution.
Faction Triad
Faction in the Realm:
| Faction | Goal | Method | Why players care |
|---|---|---|---|
| Flame-Keepers | Keep the Prince sealed | Ritual secrecy, name erasure | They control passage and healing fires. |
| Lowland Merchants | Access highland trade routes | Bribes, envoys, forged tokens | They hold lowland supplies and coin. |
| Tulkani Exiles | Sever their own cords | Knots, riddles, silence | They know how to hide from the Hollow. |
The Price
Geography as Constraint
The Ninth Taboo manifestation
Current Weaknesses (honest self-assessment)
Lore Heavy: Too much history about the Ash Prince; needs more immediate pressure.
Binary Factions: Lowlanders vs. Pereshi needs the Tulkani as a distinct third option.
Timer Visibility: The Prince’s Shadow Timer needs to be physically represented at the table.
Regional Mood: The Weight of Ash and the Warmth of the Coal
Power here is measured in fire-shrine charters, caravan tolls, and the length of a family’s library. The petty lords of the highlands compete not through armies but through scribes who can produce the oldest charter, the most complete genealogy, the most beautifully illuminated reckoning. The Covenant has a strong presence in the sacred cities, but the Pereshi follow their own law: the word of a Flame-Keeper outweighs a judge’s gavel.
Travelers are expected to recite a verse when crossing a bridge—the water spirits demand it—and to present a dried sprig of feverfew before petitioning a lord. The high passes are measured in breath-counts, not miles, and the air is thin enough to make a foreigner’s head spin. But the thinnest air of all is in the sealed archive where the Prince’s name is buried. No one has opened it in nine generations. The lock has no key. The key is a memory no one wants to have—and lately, the lock has been weeping rust. The rust tastes of iron and old smoke.
Spirit Hierarchy of the High Peaks
The Pereshi recognize five kinds of spirits, each with its own demands and taboos. These spirits are not worshipped—they are negotiated with, like neighbors who happen to be made of fire and ash.
| Name | Nature | Domain | Demand |
|---|---|---|---|
| Mhuri | Ancestral shades, bound to hearth-stones | Lineage memory, forgotten names | A coal from the family brazier, burned at dusk |
| Gul | Hungry spirits, born from broken death-rites | Mountain passes, avalanche sites | A name—any name—spoken into the wind |
| Sheni | Trickster fire-spirits, children of the first flame | Braziers, forges, lamp-wicks | A mispronounced verse; they will correct you—or burn you |
| Zarani | Possessing spirits, carried by the monsoon | Madness, prophecy, ecstatic dance | A white headcloth left at a crossroads |
| Kivuli | The Prince’s shadow-fragments, still walking | Erosion, forgetting, the space between names | Silence. They feed on words left unsaid. |
A Pereshi who encounters a spirit does not fight. They bargain. A Gul at a pass can be bought off with the name of a dead enemy. A Sheni in a forge will teach a smith a new alloy if the smith first recites a verse backwards. The Zarani are the most feared—they possess without warning, and the only cure is a drum circle that lasts until dawn, with nine drummers, never eight.
The Unfired Crown: How the Pereshi Rule Themselves
The Pereshi do not kneel to a king. They kneel to fire, to ash, and to a name they erased. Each valley or fire-shrine city governs itself through a council of elders, a Flame-Keeper, and a war captain (if needed). There is no central treasury, no standing army, no code of laws beyond custom and the witness of the ninth coal. What unites them is not a crown but a memory of conquest: every Pereshi child learns the story of the Ash Prince, the burning of the great library at Khvarena, and the year the fires went out. They also learn the year the fires were relit—and the ritual that severed the Prince’s name from the world.
The Flame-Keepers of the nine largest shrines meet once every nine years at Mount Khvarena, the holiest peak. They do not elect a leader. They sit in a circle, each holding a coal from their own hearth. They speak of weather, of harvests, of bandit raids. They do not speak of the Prince—but each of them, before sleep, places a hand on the ninth coal that sits in a brass brazier at the center of the circle. If it is warm, they know the Shadow is stretching. If it is hot, they light a signal fire and send riders to every valley: The name stirs. Renew the seals.
No outsider has ever attended a meeting of the nine. The lowland merchants have tried to send spies; the spies never returned, and their names were erased from every reckoning. The Tulkani do not try; they leave a knotted cord at the edge of the shrine and wait for a reply. The reply is always a single burnt knot.
The Fear of the Lowlands and the Tulkani Unease
The lowland merchants fear the Pereshi. In the oasis cities, water-clerks whisper that every Pereshi carries a “name-coal”—a fragment that can lift a name from memory, unraveling every bond it once held. A merchant whose name is struck from the tallies is not bankrupt; he is forgotten. His wells dry up. His caravans lose their way. His children cannot remember his face. The lowland guilds settle their reckonings with the Pereshi with unusual haste, and they never, ever allow a Pereshi fire-keeper to light a lamp in their counting houses. Some say that the well of the lost oasis was cursed not by the desert nomads but by a Pereshi exile who wanted to make a trading post vanish.
The Tulkani have an uneasy relationship with the Pereshi. They share a border of silence. Both respect the ninth night, but for different reasons. The Tulkani say the Pereshi stole fire from the Dreamer (the sleeping goddess). The Pereshi say the Tulkani forgot how to build a hearth. They trade stories at the edge of the high passes, but never stay the night. A Tulkani who enters a Pereshi fire-shrine must leave a knot behind—and the Pereshi burn it. The smoke carries the dream to the sky, but the knot is gone, and the Tulkani cannot retie it. Some Tulkani elders whisper that the Pereshi know how to sever a name because they once tried to sever the Dreamer’s name—and failed. They do not say this aloud. The Hollow might be listening.
Everyone else underestimates the Pereshi. Lowland clerks call them “backward highlanders with no coin.” Armored knights sneer at their unpaved roads and unarmored sentinels. Grain factors pity them. The Pereshi prefer it this way. Let the lowlands send their reckoners; the passes are high, the cold is deep, and every seal of passage requires a verse that no foreigner can recite correctly. Those who try are turned back at the bridge—or find that their names have been quietly written in ash and left to the wind.
The Ash Prince—Heart as Coal, Name as Ash
Once, the Ash Prince—a conqueror from the southern magocracy, a man whose armies swept from the red desert to the eastern hills—turned his gaze to the Pereshi highlands. He burned the great library at Khvarena. He melted the shrine bells into arrowheads. He tried to erase the fire-faith, to replace it with the silence of the Veiled Ones. For nine years he ruled from a garrison in the lowlands, sending patrols to cut down any who still lit a lamp before dawn.
Then his empire cracked. The cursed gem that had given him power over fate began to devour him from within. His generals turned on each other. His shadow began to walk independently. He retreated to a fortress in the eastern passes, and the Pereshi followed—not with armies, but with priests.
The ritual took nine nights. They did not kill him. They unmade him. They spoke his true name into a lead scroll, sealed it with nine coals, and buried it beneath the largest fire-shrine. They cut his shadow from his body and pinned it to a stone throne (now lost in the red desert). And they took his heart—still beating, still warm—and placed it in a brass brazier. The ninth coal is not a relic. It is his petrified heart. Once a year, on the anniversary of his fall, it pulses. The Flame-Keepers feel it. They do not speak of it.
The Prince’s shadow still walks because the heart still dreams of conquest. The Pereshi do not fear him—they remember him. He is the Weight the Fire Lifted. But the weight grows heavier with time. Every broken name, every forgotten oath, every coal that cracks adds another shadow to the flame. If the ninth coal ever goes cold, the Prince will not return—he will never have been gone.
The Prince’s Shadow Timer [8]
Tracks the Prince’s gradual return. Advance the timer when:
The party breaks a Pereshi oath or defiles a fire-shrine (+1)
A Flame-Keeper dies without passing on the secret of the ninth coal (+1)
The party speaks the Prince’s true name aloud (from the First Emperor’s scroll) (+2)
The GM spends 2 SB to represent a crack in the archive’s seal (+1)
When the timer reaches 4: The Prince’s shadow begins to appear in mirrors and still water. It asks questions. Answering gives it a thread to pull. When the timer reaches 8: The Prince manifests as a ghostly figure—not a combat boss, but a presence that can possess a willing (or desperate) host. The party must either reseal him (by finding a new name, a new shadow, or a new coal) or bargain with him (he offers great power at the cost of a Pereshi valley). The valleys are not his to give. He offers them anyway. The ninth coal will be warm that night.
Prominent NPCs of the Pereshi Highlands
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumored Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Flame-Keeper Zarifa | Priestess of Mount Khvarena | Preserve the old rites and keep the ninth coal from lighting | She has never been seen without a rose—fresh or dried. The rose is from the Prince’s own garden, taken the day he fell. She sleeps with one hand on the coal. The coal has begun to pulse in time with her heart. |
| Lord Rostam | Highland petty king (Adur-Gah valley) | Unite the valleys against lowland reckoners—and against the Prince’s return | He keeps a cage of doves; each dove carries a different treaty. The ninth dove carries a blank page for the Prince’s name. The dove has started to speak. It speaks in the Prince’s voice. |
| Archivist Riley | Keeper of the Unfinished Books (Khvarena) | Protect the scrolls that were never completed—especially the Prince’s name scroll | He has not left the archive in thirty years. His shadow is missing. The Prince’s shadow took it. He does not sleep. He no longer needs to. |
| Tarkan | Caravan master of the high passes | Secure the passes before the snows close them—and before the Prince’s ghost walks | He has three camels, each named after a dead wife. The camels were bred from stock the Prince’s army abandoned. They refuse to cross the Pass of the Unforgiven. They kneel when the ninth coal pulses. |
| The Poet of the Ninth Verse | An old man who stole a missing line of an ancient epic | Recite the verse for a cup of tea made with snowmelt—and keep the Prince from hearing it | His left eye is a piece of amber with a fly trapped inside. The fly is from the Prince’s own stable. When the Prince’s shadow is near, the fly buzzes. When the coal pulses, the fly is silent. |
| Fire-Keeper Zahra (new) | Young priestess of the eastern shrine (Adur-Gah) | Secretly correspond with a lowland merchant—she is torn between duty and mercy | She writes letters on bark. The bark is from a grove that the Prince burned. She signs with a drop of her own blood. The lowland clerk has never seen her face. |
| The Knot-less (Tulkani exile, new) | A Tulkani who cut her own cord, now living among the Pereshi | Learn the name-severing ritual—to hide from the Hollow | She carries a single knot in her mouth. She has never swallowed it. She speaks by moving her lips around the knot. The Pereshi have not yet burned her offerings. |
| The Nameless (lowland merchant, new) | A spice trader whose name was erased by a Pereshi fire-keeper | Reclaim his lineage—even if it demands a shard of the cursed gem | He wears a mask of woven silver. Underneath, his face is smooth—no mouth, no nose, only two eyeholes. He drinks through a straw. He whispers his true name to the ninth coal every night, hoping it will remember. |
Names of the Pereshi Highlands
Inspired by highland traditions: names with soft endings, honorific prefixes (Mir, Khan, Beg), and surnames denoting a clan or a valley. Many families carry a second, secret name—the name they used during the Prince’s occupation, preserved as a mark of survival. To speak a Pereshi’s secret name is to bind them to a promise; to learn it is to hold a thread of their soul.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Surnames | Epithets |
|---|---|---|---|
| Rostam | Zarifa | Kuhistani | the Fire-Touched |
| Riley | Laleh | Qasemi | the Unfinished |
| Tarkhan | Shirin | Salari | Ninth Verse |
| Dariush | Mahsa | Bahrami | the Bridge-Mouthed |
| Behrouz | Golnar | Khorasani | the Red Rose |
(Shrine/Library/Bridge)
Fire-shrine with a copper dome and a flame that never goes out; library of unfinished books where scribes copy texts that were burned by the Prince’s order; stone bridge over a chasm, each arch carved with a line of poetry—except the ninth, which is deliberately blank. The blank arch hums at midnight.
Spades—Places
Fire-Shrine of the Unquenched—A stone tower with a copper dome. The fire inside is said to be the first flame. It has never gone out—but it flickers when a king dies. The flame’s color changes with the season. The ninth coal sits in a brass brazier, untouched since the Prince’s fall. Recently, the coal has started to glow at midnight. The glow casts no shadow.
[RITUAL][MEMORY]Mount Khvarena (The Nine Fires)—The holiest peak, where the Flame-Keepers meet once every nine years. At the summit, a circle of nine braziers. The ninth brazier holds the Prince’s heart. The coals never cool. Pilgrims climb the mountain barefoot, carrying a single rose. The rose is burned. The ash is the offering.
[LEGEND]The Archive of Severed Names—A cave behind a waterfall, where clay tablets record every name ever erased. The tablets are stacked to the ceiling. Some are warm. Those names are still trying to return. The archivist has never opened the ninth row.
[DEATH][SECRET]Adur-Gah (Fire-Shrine City)—A walled town built around a natural gas vent that burns day and night. The vent is called the Prince’s Breath. The locals say it is his sigh, trapped underground. When the wind shifts, the flame roars—and the ninth coal pulses.
[COMMUNITY]The Pass of the Unforgiven—A high defile where the Prince’s army froze to the rock. On cold nights, you can still see their shapes in the ice. They are still standing. Their lips move. They are still counting. The Pereshi do not use this pass. They say the dead do not forgive.
[DEATH][FEAR]The Library of Unfinished Books—A scriptorium where scribes copy texts that the Prince tried to burn. The books have no endings. The endings were lost. The scribes write new ones, but the old endings whisper from the margins. The ninth shelf is empty. It is reserved for the book that will contain the Prince’s true name.
[KNOWLEDGE]The Bridge of Nine Echoes—A rope bridge over a frozen chasm. Each step echoes nine times. The ninth echo is always a whisper—the name of the next person to fall. Do not answer. The whisper is not for you.
[DEATH][OMEN]The Rose Garden of Khvarena (Ruined)—Where the Prince cut every rose bush to build a pyre. One bush survived. It grows from a crack in the stone. The roses are black. They smell of ash. A single petal can bind a name—or sever it.
[MAGIC]The Well of Unspoken Names—A dry well where the Pereshi throw coals that have gone cold. The coals burn again at the bottom. No one knows how. Some say the Prince’s heart keeps them warm.
[MYSTERY]The Sunken Archive (Lowland Border)—A flooded chamber where water-tablets and fire-tablets meet. The water is warm. The tablets float. The lowland water-clerks who come here never leave. The Pereshi do not explain why.
[THRESHOLD]The Silent Pass—A high mountain pass where no bird flies. The air is too thin for sound. Arguments must be written in the snow. The snow does not lie. The Pereshi leave offerings of silence here.
[WEATHER]The Ninth Coal’s Vault—A lead-lined chamber beneath Mount Khvarena. The door has nine locks. The keys are held by nine Flame-Keepers. The ninth key is a memory that no one can recall. The door sweats.
[SEAL]The First Emperor’s Scroll (Myth)—A scroll that contains the Prince’s true name, written in ash on lead. It is kept in a box that has no key. The box is opened only when the ninth coal cracks. The last time it cracked, the Prince’s shadow walked for nine days.
[LEGEND]
(Priest/Scholar/Envoy)
Flame-Keeper with a rose and a coal; archivist with ink-stained fingers; lowland merchant with a woven silver mask.
Hearts—People & Factions
Flame-Keeper Zarifa—Priestess of Mount Khvarena, keeper of the ninth coal. She has never been seen without a rose—fresh or dried. The rose is from the Prince’s own garden. She sleeps with one hand on the coal. The coal has begun to pulse in time with her heart.
[RITUAL]Archivist Riley—Keeper of the Unfinished Books, guardian of the Prince’s name scroll. He has not left the archive in thirty years. His shadow is missing. The Prince’s shadow took it. He does not sleep. He no longer needs to.
[SECRET]Caravan Master Tarkan—A highland trader who knows every pass and every ghost. He has three camels, each named after a dead wife. The camels were bred from stock the Prince’s army abandoned. They refuse to cross the Pass of the Unforgiven. They kneel when the ninth coal pulses.
[TRAVEL]Lord Rostam—A petty king of Adur-Gah, trying to unite the valleys. He keeps a cage of doves; each dove carries a different treaty. The ninth dove carries a blank page for the Prince’s name. The dove has started to speak. It speaks in the Prince’s voice.
[POLITICS]The Poet of the Ninth Verse—An old man who stole a missing line of the epic. His left eye is a piece of amber with a fly trapped inside. The fly is from the Prince’s own stable. When the Prince’s shadow is near, the fly buzzes. When the coal pulses, the fly is silent.
[KNOWLEDGE]Fire-Keeper Zahra (new)—A young priestess of the eastern shrine, secretly writing to a lowland water-clerk. She writes letters on bark. The bark is from a grove that the Prince burned. She signs with a drop of her own blood. The lowland clerk has never seen her face.
[CONFLICT]The Knot-less (Tulkani exile, new)—A Tulkani who cut her own cord, now living among the Pereshi. She carries a single knot in her mouth. She has never swallowed it. She speaks by moving her lips around the knot. The Pereshi have not yet burned her offerings.
[MYSTERY]The Nameless (lowland merchant, new)—A spice trader whose name was erased by a Pereshi fire-keeper. He wears a mask of woven silver. Underneath, his face is smooth—no mouth, no nose, only two eyeholes. He drinks through a straw. He whispers his true name to the ninth coal every night, hoping it will remember.
[TRAGEDY]Covenant Judge—A gray-robed notary stationed at the bridge between Pereshi and lowland lands. She carries a water-timer that runs on melted snow. It never freezes. She has never ruled against a Pereshi—not because she fears them, but because their contracts are written in ash, and ash has no appeal.
[JUSTICE]The First Censor (Ghost of Khvarena)—A librarian who burned herself with the scrolls to keep the Prince from reading them. She appears as a pillar of smoke. She asks: “Is the name still sealed?” If you say yes, she weeps ash. If you say no, she screams and the ninth coal cracks.
[DEATH]The Prince’s Shadow (Manifestation)—A silhouette without a face, seen in mirrors and still water. It asks for a name. Any name. Give it a living one, and that person will dream of the Prince every night. Give it a dead one, and the dead will walk for one night. Give it your own, and you lose your shadow—and your name becomes ash.
[CURSE]The Ninth Flame-Keeper (Legend)—The one who sealed the Prince’s heart. She never died. She sits at the bottom of the Well of Unspoken Names, warming the coals with her breath. She has not breathed in nine centuries. The coals breathe for her.
[MYTH]The Prince’s Echo (Forgotten Conqueror)—A voice from the ninth coal, heard when it pulses. It speaks in a language no one remembers. It says only one word. The word is a name—yours, or the Prince’s. It changes each time.
[FEAR]
(Ash/Name/Coal)
A tablet from the Archive of Severed Names (contains an erased name); a rose from the Ruined Garden (can be burned to ask a yes/no question of the fire); a fragment of the ninth coal (once, reroll a failed negotiation with a Pereshi).
Clubs—Complications/Threats
A Name Demanded—A Pereshi fire-keeper demands a name you do not wish to give. The name must be true. It must be someone you know. The fire-keeper will write it on a clay tablet and place it in the Archive of Severed Names. That person will begin to be forgotten—first by strangers, then by family, then by you.
[OBLIGATION][SOCIAL]The Ninth Coal Cracks—The Prince’s heart splits. The Shadow stretches. Advance the Prince’s Shadow timer by 2. All mirrors in the scene show a silhouette standing behind each character. The silhouette asks: “Why do you keep my name?” Refuse to answer, and it will take a memory.
[DEATH][FEAR]Lowland Envoy Refused—A water-clerk from the lowlands arrives with gifts. The Pereshi burn them. The envoy is the Nameless—a merchant whose name was erased. He offers the party a shard of the cursed gem in exchange for a promise to intercede. The Pereshi will not negotiate. The party must choose between the merchant’s gratitude and the fire-keeper’s ire.
[POLITICS]Tulkani Knot Left at the Threshold—A Tulkani Caravan Judge has left a knotted cord outside a fire-shrine. The knot is a request for parley. The Pereshi will not touch it. They will burn it at dusk. If the Tulkani returns before the fire goes out, they may speak—but only in riddles. The party is asked to act as interpreters. A wrong answer may start a feud.
[SOCIAL]Ash from the Prince’s Pyre—A storm carries ash from the red desert. The ash settles on Pereshi fields. The ash is warm. It smells of old smoke. The Pereshi say it is the Prince’s breath, scattered. Any promise written in it will be forgotten by dawn. The party finds a message written in ash on their tent. It says: “You carry my name.”
[OMEN]The First Emperor’s Scroll Found—A copy of the scroll containing the Prince’s true name surfaces in a lowland market. The Pereshi will pay anything—a name, a coal, a memory—to recover it. The party is hired to retrieve it. But other factions want it too: the Veiled Ones (to free the Prince), the resistance (to destroy it), and a lowland merchant (to sell it to the highest bidder).
[QUEST]The Ninth Verse Spoken Aloud—Someone recites the missing line of the epic. The line is: “And the heart that burned, the name that ash—the ninth is warm, the shadow waits.” The moment it is spoken, the ninth coal pulses. An Oath-Keeper appears. It asks: “Who taught you that verse?” The speaker must answer truthfully or lose their voice.
[CURSE]Fire-Shrine Silence—All the fires in a shrine go out at once. The ninth coal is cold. The Flame-Keeper is found dead, a rose in her mouth. The ninth coal is not cold—it is gone. Stolen. The party must track the thief before the Prince’s shadow claims the coal. The thief is a Tulkani exile who thought the coal would let her cut her last knot.
[CRIME]The Archive Weeps—Water seeps from the walls of the Archive of Severed Names. The water tastes of salt and old ink. It is the tears of the erased names. They are trying to return. A character who touches the water hears a single name whispered—a name they have never heard. That name now belongs to them. The Hollow will expect it.
[OBLIGATION]The Prince’s Shadow Points—The shadow appears in a mirror and points at a party member. That character must yield a name to the Prince. They have nine days to find someone else’s name to offer, or the Prince will take theirs. The shadow will appear in every reflection until the claim is settled.
[CURSE][OBLIGATION]The Rose Garden Burns (Again)—Someone sets fire to the ruined garden. The black roses scream. The smoke forms the shape of a crown—the Prince’s crown. The fire was lit by a lowland merchant who thought he could destroy the Prince’s memory. Instead, he woke it. The Prince’s shadow now walks toward the lowlands. The party must warn the Pereshi—or bargain with the Prince.
[DISASTER]The Ninth Flame-Keeper Rises—The legendary priestess climbs out of the Well of Unspoken Names. She has not aged. Her eyes are coals. She says: “The seal is failing. I need a new name to bind.” She looks at the party. She asks: “Who volunteers?” Refusal will not be accepted. The party must offer a false name, a dead name, or a memory of a name. The flame-keeper will know if it is false.
[LEGEND][FEAR]The Prince Walks—The ninth coal cracks completely. The Prince’s shadow becomes solid. He does not fight. He negotiates. He offers: “Give me a kingdom, and I will give you the world. Give me a name, and I will forget yours. Give me a coal, and I will warm your hearth forever.” The Pereshi will not help. They are hiding. The party must decide alone.
[APOCALYPSE]
(Ash/Name/Coal)
Fragment of the ninth coal (once, reroll a failed negotiation with a Pereshi); a rose from the Ruined Garden (burn it to ask a yes/no question of the fire); a tablet from the Archive of Severed Names (contains an erased name—can be used to compel someone who has forgotten that name).
Diamonds—Rewards/Leverage
Fire-Shrine Token (Copper)—A small disc stamped with a flame. Gain +1 Position in any Pereshi court or negotiation. The token is warm. It cools when you lie. The Pereshi will notice.
[SOCIAL]Rose from the Ruined Garden [Leverage: Knowledge]—A black rose, dried, from the bush that survived the Prince’s pyre. Burn it to ask a yes/no question of the fire. The fire will answer with a color: red for yes, blue for no, white for the question is forbidden. The rose crumbles after use.
[MAGIC]Tablet of a Severed Name—A clay tablet from the Archive, inscribed with a name that was erased. The name belongs to a person who has been forgotten—even by themselves. Speak the name aloud, and that person will remember who they are. Use it to compel someone who once bore an unkept promise to that person. The tablet crumbles after one use.
[SECRET][OBLIGATION]Fragment of the Ninth Coal—A piece of the Prince’s heart, still warm. Once, reroll a failed negotiation with a Pereshi. The fragment then turns to ash. But the Prince will remember your face. The Hollow will too.
[LEGEND]The Ninth Verse (Scroll) [Leverage: Knowledge]—The missing line of the epic, written on a scrap of leather. Recite it aloud to summon an Oath-Keeper. The Oath-Keeper will answer one question about the Prince’s shadow—but it will then ask you a question in return. You must answer truthfully or lose your voice.
[KNOWLEDGE][OBLIGATION]A Coal from Mount Khvarena [Leverage: Protection]—A regular coal, blessed by the ninth flame. Carry it to be immune to cold weather for one leg of a journey. The coal glows faintly when the Prince’s shadow is near.
[TRAVEL]Archivist’s Seal [Leverage: Passage]—A clay seal that opens any archive door in the highlands. The seal is shaped like a rose. It must be pressed to the lock. The lock will open—but the archivist will know who opened it. The seal works once.
[ACCESS]The Prince’s True Name (in a lead scroll) [Leverage: Authority]—A copy of the name, written in ash. Speak it aloud, and the Prince’s shadow will manifest and obey one command. Then the scroll burns, and the Prince will hunt you. Use once. The GM gains 5 SB.
[LEGEND][CURSE]Lowland Water-Clerk’s Red Register (Stolen)—A register that records every name the Pereshi have lifted from lowland merchants. The register is a weapon. Present it to a lowland well-judge, and they will release a claim. Present it to a Pereshi fire-keeper, and they will grant you a boon—but they will also ask whose name you want to lift in return.
[TRADE][OBLIGATION]The Knot-less’s Last Knot—The knot that the Tulkani exile carries in her mouth. If you untie it, the exile will remember her name—but she will also owe you a story. If you cut it, she will die, and you will gain the ability to hide from the Hollow for one night (the Hollow cannot see you). The knot is warm. It smells of sleep.
[MYSTERY]The Nameless’s True Name (Whispered)—The name that the lowland merchant lost. Whisper it to him, and he will grant you a boon: a shard of the cursed gem, or a map to the archive of severed names. But the Pereshi will know you spoke his name. They will mark you.
[TRADE][OBLIGATION]The Ninth Flame-Keeper’s Rose [Leverage: Authority]—A rose that never wilts, from the legendary priestess. Once, present it to any Pereshi to demand a single act of mercy—the release of a prisoner, the return of a name, a night’s shelter during a storm. The rose will then turn to ash. The priestess will ask why you used it. Answer poorly, and she will take a memory.
[LEGEND]The Prince’s Shadow (Bound)—A piece of the Prince’s shadow, captured in a lead-lined mirror. Break the mirror, and the shadow will fight for you for one scene (Cap 3, Harm 3). Then it will turn on you. The mirror is heavy. It whispers. It knows your name.
[MAGIC][CURSE]
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 (tokens, scrolls, coals) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo fire-omens—flames that burn green, scrolls that ignite without heat, a bridge that recites a verse in a dead language, a coal that glows in the dark. Also tick the Prince’s Shadow timer by 1 (the curse advances). The coal is not a metaphor. It is warm.
Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)
Fire-Shrines and the Ninth Coal: Every fire-shrine keeps a brazier with nine coals. The ninth coal is never lit—it is a promise to the Hollow and a ward against the Prince. Lighting it summons the Oath-Keeper or the Prince’s ghost. Flame-Keepers inherit the secret of which coal is the ninth; it changes with each keeper. The coal is warm to the touch. It should not be. Recently, all the ninth coals across the highlands have grown warm at the same time. They pulse in the same rhythm. The rhythm is not a heartbeat.
Verse Law: In Pereshi courts, a well-recited verse carries more weight than a witness. The old epics contain every legal precedent; a litigant who can quote the correct verse wins automatically. The problem is that the epics are incomplete—and the missing verses are hidden in the tombs of forgotten kings. The Prince tried to finish the epic with his own verses. They are still there, in the sealed archive, waiting to be burned—or to be sung. The singers who try to learn them lose their voices for a year.
Ash-Bound Tokens of Passage: A sealed way-token is a small clay disc stamped with ash and witness. The Pereshi keep no treasury of metal; the token itself holds the weight of the promise. False tokens are a grave transgression—the forger is forced to copy the entire epic by hand, blindfolded. The Prince’s reckoners were the first to suffer this fate. Their ghosts still copy, still blindfolded. The ink they use is rust-colored.
The Prince’s Seal (Forgotten): In the deepest vault of the archive, sealed in a lead box, is the Prince’s own signet ring. It is said to grant authority over any Pereshi—because it proves the Prince’s claim. No one has opened the box. The key was buried with the last emperor. The ring is still warm. Recently, the box has begun to hum. The hum is the same pitch as the ninth coal’s pulse.
Obligations of Naming: When the Pereshi reckon what is owed, they do not count metal. They ask for a “name”—the true name of an enemy, a forgotten ancestor, a secret that has never been spoken. A character who cannot yield it loses one Bond or one Asset (the name is erased from records and memory). The GM may offer a choice: yield a name you know, or lose one of yours. This is not trade. It is an unmaking.
Fire-Shrine Hospitality: The three-day feast rule is sacred. Breaking it marks the offender as anathema—all Pereshi refuse to speak to them, and the ninth coal in every hearth spits ash in their direction. Removing the mark requires a pilgrimage to Mount Khvarena and the offering of a true name to the ninth coal. The coal may accept or refuse. It usually refuses.
Fire-Reading (Kubuta mu Muriro): A Pereshi diviner can read the future in a flame. The ritual takes a few minutes and requires a brazier, a handful of ash, and a question. The diviner tosses the ash into the flame; the shape it makes before burning answers. A spiral means a journey, a straight line means a safe road, a broken circle means a broken promise. The ninth ash-flake always falls outside the brazier—it belongs to the Hollow.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Undying Flame (Oath of Flame and Light): The fire that witnessed the Prince’s defeat—and still burns in witness and in warning. The warning is the coal’s warmth.
The Keeper of Sealed Names (The Witness): The archivist who records what must never be spoken—including the Prince’s true name. She has started to forget. The forgetting is a mercy.
The Ninth Coal (The Ninth): The coal that was never lit; the promise that the Prince will not return. It is warm. It is warm. It is warm.
The Silent Smith’s Patron (Mykkiel): The law folded into steel; the covenant that cannot be broken—unless the Prince’s shadow crosses it. The shadow is crossing it now.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
Fire-Shrines and the Covenant (Mykkiel): Covenant judges recognize the authority of flame-keepers. A fire-shrine token can be used as a witness in a Covenant court—the flame itself is considered an incorruptible witness. The Prince once stood before a Covenant judge. He lied. The flame flickered, but did not burn. The judge was paid. The judge’s ghost now tends a shrine in the high passes, still waiting for the truth. The flame flickers when the judge’s ghost speaks. It flickers in the same rhythm as the coal.
The Ninth Verse and the Ukwe (Sekogo): The missing verse of the Pereshi epic is said to be carved on the Ukwe’s oldest root. The Lethai-ar know the verse but will not recite it—doing so would call the Hollow. The verse is the Prince’s own confession. The Ukwe’s root has begun to bleed sap the color of rust. The sap smells of the Prince’s garden.
Silent Smith’s Swords and the Stone Men (Ngomebe): The silent smiths are said to be descendants of mountain vent-priests who stayed in the highlands. Their folding technique is a lost art; the Stone Men masons would pay a fortune for a working forge. The smiths will only trade for a Prince’s relic—and the Prince’s shadow is now offering them his own chains. The chains are warm. They pulse.
The Buried Archive and the Cursed Gem (Dhahara): The First Emperor’s scrolls contain a description of the gem’s creation. The Veiled Ones have been searching for the archive for a century. The party may find it first—or find it already looted. The Prince’s ghost is also looking. He believes the gem can restore his name. He is wrong. The gem can only give him a new one. He does not want a new one.
The Prince’s Ghost (Desert Connection): Some say the Prince did not die. He walked into the red desert and became part of it. His ghost haunts the high passes on stormy nights, asking for a cup of water. Do not give it to him. He will ask for your name next. Lately, he has started asking for a shadow to borrow. He returns them. They are never quite the same.
Pereshi Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Fire: Crumble a crust into the shrine brazier. Ignore the first A Name Demanded penalty.
[SUPERSTITION]Knot the Scroll: Tie a single ribbon around a book you are returning. Cancel Forged Scroll or take –1 die on your next legal roll (your choice).
[SUPERSTITION]Name to the Bridge: Whisper a dead poet’s name into the water below. Gain +1 Effect when reciting a verse this scene, but mark Obligation to the Bridge’s spirits.
[SUPERSTITION]Coal to the Shadow: Drop a glowing coal into a basin of water while speaking the Prince’s forbidden name backwards. The next time the Prince’s shadow appears, it will hesitate for one exchange—but it will remember your face. It will remember your face in your dreams.
[SUPERSTITION]
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from fire-keepers or archivists.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby caravan guards or Tulkani traders.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for Prince’s shadow or name-hunters.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or safe passage through a pass.
Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Local Flame-Keeper or lord’s herald becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to ashfall or a bridge recitation failure.
Foe Appears: A name-hungry spirit or a lowland reckoner 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 fire-shrine guards, Pereshi riders, or Prince’s shadow fragments arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—name called / ninth coal cracks / archive floods.
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: Ninth Flame-Keeper, Archivist Riley, or the Prince’s shadow intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—shrine burns / archive collapses / ninth coal shatters.
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
Pereshi (Fire Law): Flames change color, scrolls ignite without heat, a coal pulses out of rhythm.
Pereshi (Name Law): A character forgets their own name for a moment, a ghost asks who you are, a written word turns to ash.
Pereshi (Bridge Law): A bridge recites a verse from a dead language, a plank snaps at the ninth step, the wind carries a warning.
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Lore): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Ash Cloud.
Cut the Name (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a rose from the Ruined Garden is in your possession, +1 die.
Weather the Shadow (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Prince’s Shadow Points, you pick who is targeted; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (Ash, Name & Heart)
The Name-Eater (Nine Erasures)—Phases: A Name Demanded → Orchestrated Forgetting → Archive Coup. Cracks: return a severed name to its owner, expose a false erasure, survive a night in the Archive of Severed Names.
The Ninth Flame-Keeper (Legend)—Phases: Coal Pulses → Shadow Stretches → The Heart Cracks. Cracks: offer a new name to bind (a willing sacrifice), speak the Prince’s true name in the Well of Unspoken Names, or convince the Pereshi that the Prince’s burden is finally laid to rest.
The Prince’s Shadow (Manifestation)—Phases: Whisper → Demand → Possession. Cracks: burn a rose from the Ruined Garden in his presence, speak his true name while holding the ninth coal, or offer him a shadow in exchange for his own—but the shadow must be willing.
Among the Pereshi, power flows through fire, ink, and the weight of ancient witness. A lord’s authority rests on the age of his library; a flame-keeper’s influence on the purity of her fire. The petty lords are constantly forging genealogies, and the archivists are constantly exposing them. Power is not inherited—it is cited, and it is witnessed by the flame. But now a new power stirs: the Prince’s shadow, offering forgotten knowledge, impossible bargains, and the chance to rewrite history. Some Pereshi have begun to listen. The ninth coal is warm. The shadow is patient.
For the GM: Use the Prince’s Shadow Timer as the campaign’s ticking heart. Every session, describe how the ninth coal feels warmer, how a mirror in a lord’s hall has begun to show a second figure, how a scribe’s shadow now moves independently. Let the party decide whether to reseal the Prince, bargain with him, or—most dangerously—try to seize his power for themselves. The Pereshi are not a people waiting for a savior. They are a people waiting for the fire to decide. And the fire is listening. The coal is warm. The shadow is stretching.
Remember the relationships: the lowland merchants send envoys who cannot meet Pereshi eyes; the Tulkani leave knots at thresholds and wait for the smoke. The lowlands do not see the Pereshi at all. That is how the Pereshi like it. But when the coal cracks, everyone will see—and it will be too late.
Kuvani
The Remount Steppe.
The grass does not belong to us. We belong to the grass. It tells us where to ride, when to move, how long to stay. A clan that forgets the grass’s song is a clan that will be buried by it. I do not sing to the wind. I listen. The wind sings through me.
I am a Remount Master. A horse’s name is its lineage. Its lineage is its debt. You do not ride a Kuvani horse. You borrow it. And when you return it, you will tell me a story that the horse has not already heard. If you lie, the horse will throw you next time.
Horses, grass, and wind-songs—the Kuvani don’t just pay in stories; they auction the right to the next remount. They range across the eastern steppe, a vast grassland east of the Valewood. Their horsemanship and remount stations make them indispensable to any caravan that crosses the open plain. The Kuvani have no cities; their courts are circles of saddles, and their laws are sung. But here’s the secret the Wind-Singers don’t want you to know: the sky is not empty. Kuva, the sky father, sees everything—every oath sworn in the open, every horse born, every blade of grass bent by the wind. But Kuva does not speak. He listens. And he is patient. The Kuvani have no temples because the sky is their shrine. Their dead are not buried; they are given to the sky on funeral platforms, that Kuva may carry their souls to the ancestral herd that rides the northern lights.
A horse is not a mount—it is a relative. Its name is a lineage stretching back to the first mare that Kuva breathed life into. A Kuvani who cannot name his horse’s ancestors is a Kuvani without a shadow. The steppe is not empty; it is full of ghosts: the ghost herd of the salt pan, the sky-road markers that hum at dusk, the Iron Corral where blades whisper the names of the dead.
Never ride a Kuvani horse without asking its name. The horse will answer—by throwing you. If it throws you, you have insulted its lineage.
— Alp Arslan, Remount Master, who has never been seen sleeping
What do people eat for breakfast? Fermented mare’s milk and dried meat—the milk is from the herd, the meat is from the hunt. The hunt is a ceremony. The ceremony is a debt to the grass.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To ride. Kuvani children are placed on a horse before they can stand. The horse is patient. The horse is old. The horse remembers the child’s grandfather. The grandfather taught the horse to ride.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their saddle. A stranger whose saddle is worn has ridden many miles. A stranger whose saddle is new has many miles ahead. A stranger who carries no saddle is a ghost. Ghosts do not need saddles.
What is the most common crime? Horse theft—but horse theft is not a crime, it is a declaration of feud. The horse is family. A stolen horse is a stolen relative. The feud lasts until the horse is returned or the thief’s line is ended. The feud never ends.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The ghost herd is not a legend. It is real—a herd of spectral horses that rides the salt pan on moonless nights. The horses are the souls of riders who died without honor. They ride forever, searching for a battle that will never come.
Where do people go when they die? To the sky. The dead are placed on funeral platforms, wrapped in felt. The birds take the flesh. The wind takes the bones. The sky takes the soul. The soul joins the ancestral herd. The herd rides the northern lights.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a horse—the best horse in your herd. 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 Ride of the Ancestors (autumn equinox). The clans ride to the salt pan. The ghost herd appears at midnight. The living ride with the dead. The dead remember their names. The living remember theirs.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Khagan’s horse is a ghost. It was killed in battle twenty years ago. The Khagan does not know. He rides a skeleton wrapped in hide. The horse does not tire. The horse does not eat. The horse does not forgive.
Kuvani — “The Remount Steppe”
Key Demographics: Humans
Regional Mood: The Weight of the Herd
Power here rests on remount chains, grazing compacts, and the favor of Kuva. A clan’s status depends on the number of horses it can offer to caravans; a remount master’s reputation on the speed and health of his string. The Kuvani have no kings—only Wind-Singers, who speak for the sky, and Remount Masters, who know the steppe’s horses by name and bloodline. Every caravan that crosses the steppe must answer the remount custom: not with coin, but with stories. The Kuvani believe that a story shared is a prayer heard, and that a traveler who has no story has no soul—only an empty shape that the wind will soon erase.
Prominent NPCs of the Kuvani
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumored Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Alp Arslan | Remount master of the central route | Expand grazing rights into Ykrul territory | He has never been seen sleeping; his eyes are always on the horizon, watching for Kuva’s hawks. |
| Borte | Wind-Singer of the White Mane Clan | Keep the songs of the clans from being forgotten | She has a horse with a white blaze; the blaze is a map of the steppe, and it shifts each season. |
| Temur | Caravan guide | Find the fastest routes through the shifting grass | He names his dogs after dead enemies. The dogs remember. They growl when the enemy’s ghost is near. |
| Seljuk | Ykrul envoy (negotiator) | Negotiate shared pastures without war | He carries a hostage string with nine knots; each knot is a season of peace. He is running out of knots. |
| The Grass Reader | A hermit who lives in a felt hut | Read the future in the way the grass bends | He never speaks above a whisper. The grass speaks for him. His tongue is green. |
Names of the Kuvani
Inspired by Turkic and Mongolian traditions: short, hard consonants, vowel clusters, patronymic suffixes (-oglu, -ova). Surnames denote a clan, a horse-line, or a wind-name.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Surnames | Epithets |
|---|---|---|---|
| Alp | Borte | Arslanoglu | the Iron Rein |
| Temur | Selin | Kuvani-bek | the White Mane |
| Seljuk | Chagatai | Borjigin | Ninth Wind |
| Batu | Nergui | Oirat | the Grass-Tongue |
| Toghrul | Otgon | Kipchak | the Remount-Keeper |
(Station/Circle/Kurgan)
Remount station with a felt tent and a corral; Wind-Singer’s circle of saddles; a kurgan (burial mound) with a stone horse that is missing a leg.
Spades — Places
Remount Station — A felt tent with a corral; horses for hire. The horses have no names—only brands. The brands are the names of lost children. The horses remember them. Kuva’s hawks circle when a brand is new.
[TRADE]Wind-Singer’s Circle — A ring of saddles; the singer sits in the center. The songs are not sung—they are hummed. The hum is the wind. The wind carries the song to the next valley. The next valley answers with a hawk’s cry.
[RITUAL]Kurgan of the Broken Oath — A burial mound with a stone horse missing a leg. The leg is a treaty. The treaty was broken. The horse is waiting for it to be returned. Its eye follows you.
[DEATH]Grass Maze — A section of the steppe where the grass grows taller than a rider on horseback. The paths shift with the wind. Only a Wind-Singer can find the way out. The grass whispers warnings.
[MYSTERY]Salt Pan of the Ghost Herd — A dry lake; the salt is crusted with hoofprints. The prints are from a herd that died a century ago. They appear every spring. The herd is still running. Kuva’s hawks do not fly over it.
[DEATH]Felt Village (Mobile) — A temporary camp of round tents. The tents face the wind. The wind is the clan’s direction. If the wind changes, the village moves. The door always faces the rising sun.
[COMMUNITY]Horse Cemetery — A field of skulls, each on a wooden stake. The stakes are carved with names. The names are the riders’ names. The riders are buried elsewhere. The horses wait. Their skulls whicker at dawn.
[DEATH]Bridge of the Ninth Hardship — A log over a ravine. The log is replaced each year. The old log is burned. The ash is the clan’s memory. The ash is scattered on the spring grass. Kuva drinks the smoke.
[RITUAL]Stone of the Hostage String — A standing stone with notches. Each notch is a hostage taken. The hostages are carved into the stone. The stone weeps when a hostage dies. The tears taste of salt and iron.
[BOND]The Iron Corral — A pen made of salvaged sword blades. The blades are from a war that never ended. The horses are afraid of them. The blades whisper the names of the dead. The whisper is the wind.
[MAGIC]Sky-Road Marker — A cairn painted blue. The blue is from a stone that fell from the sky. The stone is still warm. It marks the path of the summer stars. Touch it, and you will dream of falling.
[TRAVEL]Khagan’s Felt Throne — A tent within a tent; the seat is a saddle. The saddle has no stirrups. The Khagan does not need them. He rides the wind. The wind has no stirrups. The saddle was his grandfather’s.
[AUTHORITY]The Steppe’s Edge — Where the grass ends and the desert begins. The line is a scar. The scar is a treaty. The treaty was signed in blood. The blood was Kuvani. Kuva turned his face away that day.
[LEGEND]
(Master/Singer/Guide)
Remount master with calloused hands and a horsehair whip; Wind-Singer with gray hair and a bone flute; caravan guide with a string of dog teeth.
Hearts — People & Factions
Remount Master — Calloused hands, squinting eyes, a whip of braided horsehair. He knows the worth of a horse in salt, in silk, or in stories. The worth changes with the wind. He has never been slighted.
[TRADE]Wind-Singer (Shaman) — Gray-haired, blind, but never lost. She hums the direction to the nearest water. The hum changes with the wind. If she stops humming, the wind stops too. Her left eye sees the living; her right sees the dead.
[RITUAL]Caravan Guide (Temur) — Young, fast, a scar across his lip. He names his dogs after dead enemies. The dogs remember. They growl when they smell the enemy’s kin. The dogs also see ghosts.
[TRAVEL]Ykrul Envoy (Seljuk) — Braided hair, a hostage string on his wrist. The string has nine knots. Each knot is a season of peace. He is running out of knots. The last knot is tied with a hair from a Khagan’s daughter.
[POLITICS]Grass Reader (Hermit) — A hermit in a felt hut, never seen without a handful of grass. He reads the future by how the grass bends. The future is always wind. He has never been wrong.
[DIVINATION]Horse Thief — Young, missing two fingers. The fingers were a bet. He lost the bet—but not the horses. He can steal a horse from a corral without waking the dogs. The dogs are his. He earned them with a story.
[STEALTH]Felt Village Elder — A woman with a pipe made of bone. She settles disputes by listening to the wind. “The wind says you are lying,” she says. The wind has never been wrong. The pipe belonged to her grandmother.
[JUSTICE]Khagan’s Shadow — A silent figure in black felt. He never speaks; he writes commands in the dust. The dust blows away. The commands are remembered anyway. His face is never seen.
[AUTHORITY]Horse-Whisperer (Child) — A child who can calm any stallion. The child speaks in neighs. The horses answer in riddles. The child is learning to understand. One day, a horse will answer with a name.
[MYSTERY]Ghost Herd’s Rider — A translucent figure on a skeletal horse, seen at the salt pan at dawn. He asks: “Where is my herd?” If you answer, you become part of it. If you refuse, he follows you for nine days.
[DEATH]The Steppe’s Voice (Oracle) — A rock with a crack. The wind speaks through it. The wind answers questions. The answers are always poems. The poems are always warnings. The rock is warm.
[DIVINATION]The Last Khagan (Legend) — A king who united the clans, then rode into a storm and never returned. He is said to appear during the worst blizzards, offering shelter. The shelter is a trap. His horse has no shadow.
[LEGEND]The First Remount (Myth) — A horse that never tired. Its bones are scattered across the steppe. Find all nine bones, and you can summon it. The summoning costs a year of your life. The horse will remember your name.
[MYTH]
(Sickness/Fire/Stampede)
A horse sickness spreads through the remounts—all mounts lose 1 Speed; grass fire—the smoke spells a name; a wild horse stampede—the horses are fleeing something worse.
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Horse Sickness (Curse) — A cough spreads through the remounts. The cough is a curse from a Ykrul bone-singer. The cure is a story that the bone-singer has not heard. The story must be true. Kuva’s hawks will judge.
[CURSE]Grass Fire — The steppe burns; the smoke is black. The smoke spells a name. The name is the one who lit the fire. The wind will carry the name to the clans. They will hunt. The name also appears in your dreams.
[DISASTER]Stampede (Wild Herd) — A herd of wild horses crashes through camp. The horses are not wild. They are fleeing something worse. Something that hunts horses. The party is in its path. The ground shakes.
[COMBAT]Hostage String Cut — A Ykrul envoy’s string is broken. The clan demands a new hostage. The party must choose a member to offer. The hostage will be held for nine seasons. Kuva will witness the oath.
[BOND]Rasputitsa (Mud) — The spring thaw turns the steppe to mud. Wagons sink. Progress slows. The mud is warm. Something is buried underneath. It is waking up. The mud smells of old blood.
[WEATHER]Wind-Singer’s Silence — The Wind-Singer stops humming. The wind stops too. The silence is a warning. The warning is: “A storm is coming. Not of rain—of ghosts.” The ghosts are the unburied.
[DEATH]Water Poisoned (Salt Pan) — A well is found with dead animals nearby. The poison is salt from the cursed pan. The salt pan wants a sacrifice. The sacrifice is a horse. The horse must be willing. The horse will neigh its acceptance.
[CURSE]Felt Village Gone — A camp is empty; the tents are still standing. The felt is warm. The people vanished at noon. The horses are still in the corral. The horses are trembling. Their eyes are white.
[MYSTERY]Khagan’s Demand — The Khagan (or his shadow) asks for a tribute. The tribute is a story. The story must be about a broken promise. If it is not good enough, the Khagan takes a horse. The horse will never be seen again.
[TRUST]Iron Corral Bleeding — The sword-blade fence begins to weep rust. The rust is blood. The blood is from the war that never ended. The war is about to resume. The blades are warm.
[OMEN]Sky-Road Marker Falls — The blue cairn collapses. The stone inside is a meteor. It whispers. The whisper is a prophecy. The prophecy is about the end of the steppe. The stone is cold.
[OMEN]Ghost Herd Charges — Spectral horses trample the camp. They are looking for their riders. The riders are dead. The ghosts do not know. One rider’s ghost is in your party. It does not know it is dead.
[DEATH]Steppe’s Edge Recedes — The grass grows into the desert. The desert is retreating. Something is driving the desert back. Something that wants the steppe. Kuva is silent.
[APOCALYPSE]
(Mark/Compact/Song)
Remount chain mark (a horse’s tooth, exchange for a fresh mount); grazing compact (a sheepskin document, safe passage on clan land); sky-road song (a melody on a bone flute, navigate any storm).
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Remount Chain Mark — A horse’s tooth on a leather thong. Exchange it for a fresh mount at any Kuvani station. The tooth is from a horse that died in battle. Its spirit runs with the new mount. The new mount will be braver.
[TRAVEL]Grazing Compact (Sheepskin) — A written agreement. Allows your caravan to pasture on clan land for one season. The compact is sealed with horsehair. The hair is from the Khagan’s own mare. Break the seal, and the mare will know.
[TRADE]Sky-Road Song (Bone Flute) — A melody recorded on a flute. Play it to navigate any storm. The flute was carved from a rib. The rib was the Wind-Singer’s. She gave it willingly. The flute is warm.
[TRAVEL]Hostage String (Borrowed) — A braided cord with knots. Present it to demand a truce from a Ykrul clan. The string is hair. The hair is from a Khagan’s daughter. The Ykrul will recognize it. They will honor it. Once.
[SOCIAL]Felt Tent Pass — A felt circle with a hole. Safe lodging in any Kuvani camp. The hole is for smoke. The smoke is your story. The clan will listen. If they laugh, you stay. If they weep, a foal is asked in return.
[SOCIAL]Kurgan Key (Stone Tablet) — A flat stone. Opens the Horse Cemetery gate. The gate is a skull. The key fits the eye socket. The skull will scream. The scream is a name—the name of the horse you must bury.
[MAGIC]Iron Corral Nail — One sword blade from the fence. Use it to seal an oath. The blade is rusty. The rust is from broken promises. It will rust your oath too. Speak true, or bleed.
[OATH]Sky-Road Stone (Chip) — A piece of the blue cairn. Carry it to avoid getting lost on the steppe. The stone is warm. It points to the north. The north is where the grass is greenest. The stone hums at dawn.
[TRAVEL]Khagan’s Whistle (Horse Phalange) — A brass whistle. Blow it to summon a remount from any station. The whistle is a horse’s toe bone. The horse was the Khagan’s favorite. It will come—but only once.
[MAGIC]Ghost Herd’s Bridle (Leather) — A strap of old leather. Use it to command one spirit horse. The bridle is from a horse that drowned in the salt pan. The spirit is still wet. It will carry you across water.
[DEATH]Wind-Singer’s Staff (Tent Pole) — A wooden rod. Plant it to stop the wind for one hour. The staff was a tent pole. The tent was the singer’s home. The home is gone. The wind will listen—for one hour.
[WEATHER]Khagan’s Saddle (Felt Pad) — Ride in it to gain +1 Position on all mounted rolls. The saddle has no stirrups. You must learn to ride without them. The Khagan did. His ghost rides behind you.
[COMBAT]Steppe’s Edge Stone — A piece of the boundary where grass meets desert. Touch it to make the grass grow. The stone is a tooth. The tooth is from the Steppe itself. The Steppe is hungry. The grass will grow—but it will be thirsty.
[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 (marks, compacts, flutes) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo sky-omens—hawks that circle counter-timerwise, grass that bends against the wind, a bell that rings without being struck, a shadow that falls where no sun shines.
Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)
The Story Rite: Kuvani remount stations do not accept coin. To take a fresh horse, you must tell a story that the remount master has not heard. The story is judged by the horse—if the horse stamps its foot, the story is false. If it whinnies, the story is true. If it remains still, the story is boring—you walk. Kuva’s hawks watch; a hawk’s cry means the story is worthy of the sky.
Wind-Songs and Sky-Roads: The Kuvani navigate by the stars and the wind. A Wind-Singer can hum a melody that encodes the route to water, to grass, or to safety. The song changes with the season. Only the singer knows the current melody. Those who hear the song without permission are cursed—they will hear it in their dreams until they give a horse to the singer.
Grazing Compacts as Bond: A grazing compact (a sheepskin document sealed with horsehair) can be traded, sold, or used as proof of passage. A compact from a powerful clan is worth more than a chest of silver. Forging a compact is punishable by exile—the forger is left on the steppe without a horse. Kuva will not watch over them.
Kuva’s Witness (Oath Mechanic): Any oath sworn under open sky (no roof, no canopy) is witnessed by Kuva. Breaking such an oath imposes − 1 die on all rolls until the oath is fulfilled or atoned for by a sacrifice: a horse, a memory, or a year of service to the wronged party. The GM may also tick a Kuva’s Attention [6] timer; when full, a sky-omen (drought, storm, ghost herd) strikes the oath-breaker.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
Kuva — The Eternal Blue Sky. The witness of all oaths, the father of horses, the wind that carries prayers.
The White Mare — The Traveler. The first horse, who showed the Kuvani the sky-road. Her hoofprints are the stars.
The Iron Hoof — Khemesh. The pressure beneath the steppe; the hunger that pulls horses down into the salt pan.
The Shadow Khagan — Malachai. A cursed king who sold his clan’s horses for immortality; he rides alone, and his horses have no shadows.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
Remount Chains and the Caravan Trade (Way of Silk): Every major caravan on the eastern route uses Kuvani remount stations. A disruption in the remount chain—a sickness, a feud, a stolen horse—can halt trade for an entire season. The Tulkani have a saying: “A Kuvani horse is worth nine stories. A dead Kuvani horse is worth nine feuds.”
Grazing Compacts and the Ykrul: The Ykrul are the Kuvani’s rivals and sometimes allies. A grazing compact with a Kuvani clan may require a Ykrul hostage string as surety. Breaking the compact means the hostage is executed—and Kuva will turn his face from the oath-breaker. The Ykrul do not fear Kuva, but they respect his silence.
Wind-Singers and the Sky (Kuva): The Kuvani worship Kuva as the watcher of oaths. Their wind-songs are prayers to the sky. A Wind-Singer who loses her voice is considered cursed by Kuva; she must walk the steppe alone until she hears the sky again. Some never return; their bones become sky-road markers.
The Ghost Herd and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The ghost herd at the salt pan is said to be the Hollow’s own horses—ridden by the Oath-Keepers. Aelaerem leave offerings of salt to keep the herd from riding through their villages. The Kuvani avoid the salt pan entirely. They say the ghost herd is Kuva’s punishment for a Khagan who broke an oath to the sky.
The Iron Corral and the Black Banners: The sword blades of the Iron Corral are from a war that never ended—a condotta that was settled twice, first in coin, then in blood. The Black Banner captains know the story; they leave offerings of rust at the corral when they pass. A captain who refuses to pay finds his horses spooked and his supply lines cut.
Kuvani Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Horses: Crumble a crust into the corral. Ignore the first Horse Sickness penalty. Kuva’s hawks will watch but not strike.
Knot the Hostage String: Tie a new knot in a borrowed string. Cancel Hostage String Cut or take − 1 die on your next negotiation with Ykrul (your choice). The knot must be tied while facing the rising sun.
Name to the Wind: Whisper a dead horse’s name into the grass. Gain +1 Effect when riding this scene, but mark Obligation to the Wind-Singer. The wind will carry the name to Kuva. He may answer with a storm.
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Remount Masters or Wind-Singers.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby herdsmen or felt village guards.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for rival clans or ghost herd scouts.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable grazing access.
Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Local Remount Master or Wind-Singer becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to grass fire or sudden fog.
Foe Appears: A rival clan rider or Ykrul envoy 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 Kuvani riders, Ykrul warriors, or ghost herd arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—water poisoned/hostage string cut/khagan’s demand issued.
Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.
Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.
Major Turns (4+ SB)
Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.
Authority Arrival: Khagan, Wind-Singer of the White Mane, or Ghost Herd’s Rider intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—steppe catches fire/salt pan floods/sky-road marker falls.
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
Kuvani (Remount Law): Horse bells ring out of sequence, saddle leather creaks a warning, a horse refuses to move.
Kuvani (Wind-Song): Grass whispers a name, the wind stops mid-sentence, a bone flute plays itself.
Kuvani (Ghost Herd): Hoofprints appear where there are no horses, salt tastes of blood, a skeletal horse watches from the horizon.
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Ride): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Wind at Back.
Cut the Herd (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a remount chain mark is in your possession, +1 die.
Weather the Curse (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Horse Sickness, you pick which mount survives; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (Hoof & Wind)
The Bone-Singer (Nine Plagues) — Phases: Horse Sickness Spread → Orchestrated Famine → Herd Coup. Cracks: find a true story the bone-singer has not heard, expose a false cure, survive a stampede. Kuva’s Judgment: if the party swears an oath to end the sickness under open sky, the bone-singer loses one phase.
The Storm Khagan (Rider of the White Blizzard) — Phases: Grass Fires Called Mercy → Procession of Empty Saddles → Wind-Baptism of a Remount Master. Cracks: relic wind-song, survivor testimony, the sky-road turning against them. Kuva’s Favor: if a party member offers their own horse to the sky (releasing it onto the steppe), the Storm Khagan must pause for one exchange.
Among the Kuvani, power flows through remount chains, wind-songs, and the truth of a story. A clan’s authority rests on the speed of its horses and the skill of its singers. The Khagan is a figurehead; the real power lies with the Remount Masters who control the stations, and the Wind-Singers who read the grass—and Kuva’s will.
For the GM: Power in Kuvani society is held in horse teeth, sheepskin compacts, and the memory of a good story. Patronage often takes the form of remount marks, grazing compacts, or bone flutes—each tied to a specific station, clan, or singer. To emphasize the itinerant and sky-worshipping culture:
Require players to tell a story to access remounts, shelter, or grazing rights. The GM can judge the story’s quality (or have the player roll Presence + Sway vs. DV based on the remount master’s mood). A failed story means the player must offer a truth—a secret, a confession, or a memory—to Kuva directly (speak it aloud under open sky).
Use Wind-Singers as quest-givers and as intermediaries with Kuva. They hear songs on the wind that only the party can resolve. The song is always a warning or a call, and often a prophecy.
Let grazing compacts be a form of bond that can be stolen, forged, or voided. A party without a compact is trespassing—the clans can ask a story in exchange, or take a horse as a sign of good faith. A compact sealed with a hair from the Khagan’s mare is unbreakable without divine intervention.
Emphasize that the steppe is alive and Kuva watches: the grass remembers, the wind listens, and a broken promise is written in the sky-road. The Hollow’s attention ticks when the party lies to a Kuvani. Kuva’s attention ticks when they break an oath sworn under open sky.
Use sky-omens as scene-setting tools: a hawk’s cry, a sudden stillness, a cloud shaped like a horse. These can foreshadow complications or reward truthful behavior.
In Kuvani society, the grass forgets nothing—and Kuva’s sky remembers every word spoken in the open.
Tulkani
The Itinerant Courts.
The road does not forgive a debt. It only reschedules it. A promise spoken under the open sky is witnessed by the wind, the grass, and the wheels of every cart that passes. I do not write judgments. I tie knots. The knots remember. When you are ready to pay, untie one. If you are not ready, tie another.
I am a Wagon-Keeper. My wagon is my hearth, my court, my grave. The Hollow cannot cross the circle of wheels unless invited. The tax collector cannot enter without a story. The lord cannot demand rent unless we camp on his land for nine nights. On the eighth night, we leave. That is the law.
The Tulkani have no fixed homeland; they are wanderers who follow the seasons and the trade routes. Their wagons are their hearths, their circles are their courts, and their knots are their ledgers. They are welcome everywhere and trusted nowhere—a position they wear with wry humour. They spread the cult of Ikasha—She Who Sleeps—not through temples, but through dream-cords tied in the dark. But here’s the secret the Caravan Judges don’t want you to know: the knots are not just records. They are alive. A knot tied in false witness will tighten until blood is drawn. A cord cut in anger will become a ghost that follows the oath-breaker until the promise is fulfilled. And the ninth knot—the one that is never tied—is the space where the Hollow waits.
The Tulkani have no king, no judges, no written law—only the Caravan Circle, where disputes are settled by storytelling. A liar is exposed not by evidence but by the knots on his cord. Ikasha’s cult is not a religion; it is a survival tactic—the dream inside the wagon, the whisper in the creaking wheel. The Tulkani pay no permanent taxes, but they pay tolls in stories. A lord who demands coin will be told a story so boring that his crops fail. A lord who offers hospitality will be told a story so beautiful that his harvest doubles. The Tulkani do not track debts; they track reciprocity. What you give, you get back—maybe tomorrow, maybe in the next valley. But the circle remembers.
Never sleep outside the circle at night. The wagon ring is sanctuary. Outside it, the Hollow walks. A Tulkani will not rescue you—they will only mourn you at dawn.
— Elder Sarnai, Caravan Judge of the Nine Knots, whose cord drags on the ground
What do people eat for breakfast? Tea and hardtack—the tea is brewed from leaves gathered along the road, the hardtack is baked at the start of the season and lasts until the snow. The hardtack is always stale. The tea is always fresh. The contradiction is a lesson.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To tie a knot. Tulkani children are taught the eight journey-knots: Departure, Arrival, Promise, Debt, Payment, Witness, Apology, and the ninth—the knot that is never tied. The ninth knot is for the Hollow. The Hollow is not a creditor. The Hollow is a reminder.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their cord. Every Tulkani carries a knotted cord—their life’s ledger. A stranger whose cord has many knots has traveled far. A stranger whose cord has few knots has just begun. A stranger with no cord is a ghost. Ghosts do not travel. Ghosts wait.
What is the most common crime? Story-theft—but story-theft is not a crime, it is a compliment. A stolen story is a story worth telling. The original teller is honoured. The thief is welcomed. The story grows with each telling. The story never dies.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Tulkani are not wanderers by choice. They were exiled from their homeland nine centuries ago, for a crime that no one remembers. The crime is written in the ninth knot of the Elder’s cord. The Elder’s cord is too long to read. The Elder’s cord drags on the ground.
Where do people go when they die? To the road. The dead are not buried. Their bodies are left at a crossroads. The road takes them. The road carries them to the next valley, the next camp, the next telling. The dead become stories. Stories are immortal.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You untie a knot—one knot from your cord, chosen by the wronged party. The knot is burned. The ash is scattered on the wind. If the wind blows toward the wronged party, you are forgiven. If it blows away, you are not. If it is still, the Hollow has accepted your apology. The Hollow’s acceptance is a warning.
What is the most important festival? The Tying of the New Cord (new year). Every Tulkani receives a new cord, unknotted. The old cord is burned. The ash is mixed with water and drunk. The drink tastes of memory. The memory is the year that has passed. The year is never forgotten.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Tulkani are not wanderers. They are pilgrims—walking toward a destination that no longer exists. Their homeland was swallowed by the desert. The desert is still hungry. The Tulkani are still walking. They will never arrive.
Tulkani — “The Itinerant Courts”
Key Demographics: Humans
Quick Reference
Tagline: The knot remembers. The story answers. The circle holds.
Caravan Judge (Elite):
“The road does not forgive a broken promise. It only reschedules the telling. A vow spoken under the open sky is witnessed by the wind, the grass, and the wheels of every cart that passes. I do not write judgments. I tie knots. The knots remember. When you are ready to share, untie one. If you are not ready, tie another. The circle waits.”
Wagon-Keeper (Commoner):
“My wagon is my hearth, my court, my grave. The Hollow cannot cross the circle of wheels unless invited. The collector cannot enter without a story. The lord cannot claim his due unless we camp on his land for nine nights. On the eighth night, we leave. That is the law — not because we fear the lord, but because the ninth night belongs to someone else.”
Genre / Mood: Itinerant community, story-driven kinship, folk horror at the edge of the Hollow.
Starting Location: A wagon circle at a crossroads, where nine painted wagons form a ring. A Caravan Judge sits on an overturned barrel, a knotted cord in her hand. “You are standing on ground that belongs to the lord of the eastern valley. He will be here at dawn to press his claim. But you are in the circle. You are safe until the ninth hour. Tell me a story — a true one — and I will tell you how to leave before the lord arrives. And if you hear a whisper from the Dream-Wagon, do not answer. That is not a voice for waking ears.”
The Tulkani have no fixed homeland; they are wanderers who follow the seasons and the trade routes. Their wagons are their hearths, their circles are their courts, and their knots are their memories. They are welcome everywhere and trusted nowhere — a position they wear with wry humor. A Tulkani caravan can appear at a lord’s border, camp for seven nights, and leave before the eighth — because on the eighth night, the lord can demand rent. On the ninth night, something else comes.
Their courts are circles of wagons; their judges are elders who carry braided cords. Each knot is a vow, a story, or a memory shared — but never merely a record. They are the keepers of an older rhythm, one that predates the crowns and the tariffs. Their neutrality is sacred: a Tulkani camp is sanctuary for any traveler, regardless of allegiance, as long as they respect the circle and offer a story when asked.
What you notice first: The smell of woodsmoke and cooking oil. The painted wheels of wagons arranged in a circle, each wheel a different color. The way everyone touches a knotted cord before speaking of a journey.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never sleep outside the circle at night. The wagon ring is sanctuary. Outside it, the Hollow walks. A Tulkani will not rescue you — they will only mourn you at dawn.
The Curse of the Ninth Night: Why We Wander
“The Spider spun the net, the Snake shed the truth, the Raven closed the sky. But the one who dreamed — she whispered through the cracks. ‘Take these threads,’ she said. ‘Tie them in eights. The ninth is for me. I will sleep, and you will carry my waking. Never stay nine nights in the same breath. The Hollow counts. The Hollow follows. If it catches you, give it a story — not silver, not blood. A story it has never heard. That is the toll. That is the mercy.’”
No Tulkani speaks openly of the Dreamer. The old ones say that before the first caravan, before the roads were named, three sisters watched the world burn and rebuilt it from ash. Two of them decided that mortals must never know the fire. The third — the one who dreamed of a different path — was sealed into a sleep that would last as long as the mountains. But before she closed her eyes, she taught a handful of herders and smiths how to knot her dreams into cord. “You will be my memory,” she told them. “And the Hollow will be my shadow. Keep moving, or it will ask you what I whispered.”
Thus the Tulkani became wanderers. They do not stay nine nights because on the ninth night, the Hollow catches up. It does not attack. It asks for a story. If the Tulkani can tell one that the Dreamer herself never heard, the Hollow retreats — until the next camp, the next ninth night. If they cannot, it takes a knot from the judge’s cord, and a piece of the Dreamer’s memory fades forever.
The Tulkani worship Kuva, the sky father, openly. They light no shrines to the Dreamer. But every circle has a Dream-Wagon — a painted wagon with no wheels, its door a curtain of knots. Inside, a single candle burns beside a bed of straw. The old ones say that if you listen at midnight, you can hear the Dreamer breathing. They also say that the Raven’s shadow falls across the wagon on the ninth night of every ninth season. No one has ever seen it and remained in the circle.
The Dreamer’s Purpose
The Dreamer is not a passive presence. She is the caravan’s guide, its conscience, and its burden. She dreams the path the wagons follow — not through prophecy, but through memory. The Tulkani believe that the Dreamer remembers every road they have ever walked, and that her dreams weave those memories into new paths. When the caravan is lost, they wait for her to dream a way forward. When they are in danger, they listen for her nightmares.
What the Dreamer Wants: The Dreamer is not content. She is waiting. The oldest Caravan Judges whisper that she is searching for something in her dreams — a story she heard before she was sealed, a name she cannot remember, a knot she never tied. She believes that if she finds it, she can wake. The Tulkani do not know if they want her to wake. They do not know what would happen if she did.
What Happens If She Wakes: The elders say that if the Dreamer wakes, she will remember everything — including the fire that the other two sisters sealed away. She will speak the name of the world’s first wound. And the Hollow will no longer be her shadow; it will be her voice. The world may end. Or it may begin again. No one knows which is more likely.
The Dreamer’s Agency: The Dreamer is not a passive symbol. She sometimes speaks through the Story-Sellers, sending them visions or fragments of dreams. She may choose a particular traveler to receive a dream, setting them on a quest she cannot complete herself. She is a quest-giver, a guide, and a potential antagonist — but never a straightforward one. The Tulkani protect her, but they also fear her. The Dream-Wagon is the most heavily guarded part of any circle, not because they fear attack, but because they fear what she might say if she wakes.
The Hollow — Nature and Purpose
According to the Tulkani, the Hollow is not a single entity. It is a class of beings — the shadows of forgotten promises, the ghosts of broken oaths, the accumulated weight of every story that was never told. The Tulkani do not distinguish between “the Hollow” as a singular and “the hollow” as a state of being. They are the same thing: the pressure of unfulfilled obligation.
What the Hollow Wants: The Hollow is hungry. It feeds on stories that are never told, promises that are never kept, knots that are never tied. It does not attack the Tulkani directly — it does not need to. It simply waits. On the ninth night, it asks for a story. If the Tulkani cannot provide one that satisfies it, it takes a knot from the judge’s cord. The knot is a story that will never be told. The Hollow consumes it, and for a time, it is satisfied. But it always returns.
Can the Hollow Be Defeated? The Tulkani do not believe the Hollow can be defeated. It is not an enemy; it is a condition. The Hollow is the price of the Dreamer’s gift. To defeat it would mean undoing the Dreamer’s teaching, and that would mean the Dreamer would forget how to dream. The Tulkani have chosen to live with the Hollow rather than live without the Dreamer.
What the Hollow Gives: The Hollow is not entirely negative. The Tulkani say that the Hollow’s attention keeps them honest. A liar cannot hide from the Hollow; a cheat cannot outrun it. The Hollow is the circle’s witness, the traveler’s conscience. It is the reason the Tulkani keep their promises — not because they are virtuous, but because they are watched.
The Tulkani and Other Cultures
The Tulkani are nomads in a world of settled peoples. Their relationships with other cultures are shaped by this tension.
The Aeler (Stone and Breath): The Aeler respect the Tulkani’s precision with knots, seeing them as a primitive but functional form of accounting. They sometimes hire Tulkani cord-makers to audit their ledgers, trusting the knots more than their own clerks. But the Aeler also distrust the Tulkani’s lack of permanence. A people without a mountain is a people without a foundation.
The Ykrul (Steppe and Hoof): The Ykrul see the Tulkani as cousins. Both are nomads; both follow the seasons; both measure wealth in stories and kinship rather than coin. Tulkani caravans are welcome in Ykrul camps, and Ykrul riders are welcome in Tulkani circles — as long as they respect the ninth night. The Ykrul have even adopted the knot metaphor in some regions, tying cords to mark the progress of a negotiation.
The Vhasians (Crown and Fracture): The Vhasian nobility distrusts the Tulkani. A people without a crown is a people without a place in the order. The Tulkani are useful as messengers and spies, but they are never trusted. Vhasian lords often try to “tame” Tulkani caravans by offering them permanent land — a suggestion that the Tulkani find deeply offensive. A Tulkani who accepts permanent land is a Tulkani who has forgotten the Dreamer.
The Viterrans (Hedge and Law): The Viterrans have a complex relationship with the Tulkani. On one hand, the Tulkani’s neutrality makes them useful as witnesses in boundary disputes. On the other hand, their refusal to accept written law undermines the hedge-courts. Viterran hedge-witches sometimes consult Tulkani Story-Sellers to resolve disputes that cannot be resolved by precedent — and the Story-Sellers always charge in stories, not coin.
The Lethai (Silk and Shedding): The Lethai respect the Tulkani’s connection to Ikasha. Both cultures understand that some debts must be carried, not paid. Tulkani Dream-Wagons are sometimes welcomed in Lethai groves, and Lethai silk-wardens have been known to trade weaving techniques for Tulkani story-cords. But the Lethai also find the Tulkani unsettling — a people who carry their memory outside themselves, in knots and cords, rather than in their own minds.
Tulkani Magic: The Knot-Weaving Tradition
The Tulkani do not separate magic from craft. A knotted cord is both a tool and a spell; a story is both a memory and a working. Tulkani magic is the art of tying and untying — binding promises, cutting debts, and weaving memory into form.
The Knot-Weaver (Witch Equivalent): A Tulkani knot-weaver is a witch who works with cord and thread. She can tie a knot to bind a promise, untie a knot to break a curse, or weave a cord to store a memory. Her tools are simple: horsehair, silk, and a pair of shears that have never cut anything living. She does not cast spells in the ordinary sense; she ties knots, and the knots remember.
Core Practices:
Memory-Cords: A cord braided with knots for every promise made and kept. The knot-weaver can read a memory-cord like a ledger, seeing every obligation the bearer has incurred. She can also add knots to a memory-cord, binding a new promise.
Dream-Cords: A cord braided from silk and hair, with nine knots — the ninth left loose. Sleeping on a dream-cord allows the bearer to ask Ikasha one question. The ninth knot tightens after use. When it tightens fully, Ikasha wakes.
Cut Cords: A cord cut with the knot-weaver’s shears severs a promise or a curse. The cut cord becomes a ghost — the memory of the broken promise. The ghost follows the oath-breaker until the promise is fulfilled or the ghost is tied back into a new cord.
Woven Wards: A woven cord hung around a wagon or a threshold keeps the Hollow at bay. The cord must be renewed each season; a new knot is added each time. After nine knots, it becomes a dream-cord — and the Hollow will notice.
The Knot-Weaver’s Price: Knot-weavers pay for their power in memory. Each knot they tie costs them a piece of their own recollection — a face, a name, a moment. They remember their trade, but they forget why they learned it. This is why Caravan Judges are old: they have tied so many knots that they no longer remember their own childhoods. They carry the memory of the circle instead.
Tulkani Cartomancy: Tulkani cartomancers are a variation on the knot-weaver tradition. The cards are a different kind of knot — a story told in symbols rather than thread. A cartomancer reads the cards by feeling for the tension between them, the way a weaver feels for the tension in a cord. The suits are the four strands of the world’s thread; the ranks are the knots that hold it together.
Regional Mood: The Measure of the Knot
Power here is measured in memory-cords, shared stories, and the number of nights camped on a lord’s land. The Tulkani have no king, no judges, no written law — only the Caravan Circle, where disputes are settled by storytelling. A liar is exposed not by evidence but by the knots on his cord: if a knot is tied in false witness, it will tighten until blood is drawn. The Dreamer’s cult is not a religion; it is a survival tactic — the dream inside the wagon, the whisper in the creaking wheel. The Tulkani give no permanent coin, but they answer in stories. A lord who demands silver will be told a story so boring that his crops fail. A lord who offers hospitality will be told a story so beautiful that his harvest doubles. The Tulkani do not keep accounts; they keep faith in reciprocity. What you give, you get back — maybe tomorrow, maybe in the next valley. But the circle remembers.
Prominent NPCs of the Tulkani
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumored Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Elder Sarnai | Caravan Judge of the Nine Knots | Keep the circle whole and the Dreamer’s memory intact | She ties a knot for every judgment; her cord drags on the ground. When it touches dirt, she whispers a name. |
| Temur | Wagon-Keeper | Find new grazing ground before the ninth night | He paints a new color on his wagon each season; the colors are memories of places he has never seen. |
| Gulshat | Story-Seller | Spread the dream through tales | She carries a dream-cord with nine knots; the ninth knot is loose. She never ties it. |
| The Knife (Unnamed) | Ikasha’s silent agent | Free a spirit bound by the Veiled Sisters | He wears a mask made of knotted cord; underneath, he has no face — only a memory of a memory. |
| Vow-Broken | An exile who cut his own cord | Earn back his place in the circle | He carries a single knot tied in his own hair; the knot is his promise to return. His shadow is missing two fingers. |
| Sovra | Knot-Weaver | Preserve the circle’s memory through cord | She has tied so many knots that she no longer remembers her own name. She knows everyone else’s. |
Names of the Tulkani
Inspired by the nomadic traditions of the steppe and desert: short, guttural, with honorifics and clan prefixes. Surnames are often replaced by epithets describing a deed or a knot.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Clan/Epithet | Knot Name |
|---|---|---|---|
| Temur | Sarnai | the Wagon-Keeper | Ninth Cord |
| Batu | Gulshat | the Story-Seller | Dream-Knot |
| Orhan | Nergui | the Knife | Unbound |
| Cengiz | Altan | Vow-Broken | Cut Cord |
| Toghrul | Odval | Circle-Keeper | Neutral Knot |
| Sovra | Ukwe | Knot-Weaver | Memory-Cord |
(Circle/Wagon/Ground)
A wagon circle at dusk, lanterns lit; a painted wagon with a dream-cord hanging from the wheel; a crossroads where nine roads meet.
Spades — Places
Wagon Circle (Night) — Nine wagons arranged in a ring, lanterns burning, wheels touching. Inside the circle, the Hollow cannot enter. Outside, it waits. The lanterns must never go out. On the ninth night, one flickers. [SANCTUARY]
Caravan Court (Day) — A carpet spread on grass; a judge on a barrel; a cord on the ground. The cord is the circle’s memory. Step over it, and you accept the judge’s telling. [JUSTICE]
Dream-Wagon (Ikasha’s Shrine) — A painted wagon with no wheels, sitting on stones. The door is a curtain of knots. Inside, a single candle and a bed of straw. The Dreamer sleeps there. Do not wake her. [MYSTIC]
Cord-Maker’s Stall — A canvas awning where a woman braids horsehair and silk. Each cord is a memory. The color tells the weight: white for truth, red for a promise, black for a secret never spoken. [CRAFT]
Crossroads of the Ninth Road — A meeting of nine paths, only eight of which are visible. The ninth road is for the Dreamer’s shadow. The Tulkani leave an offering of a single knotted thread there each full moon. [THRESHOLD]
Abandoned Circle — A ring of burnt grass and wheel ruts. No wagons. No people. The circle was broken on the ninth night. The Hollow came. The grass will not grow back. [OMEN]
Memory-Cord Tree — An old oak with hundreds of knotted cords hanging from its branches. Each cord is a promise kept — or a story shared. The tree remembers. The wind unties one each season. [COMMUNITY]
Hollow’s Gate (Seasonal) — A place where the boundary is thin, marked by a single painted stone. The Tulkani camp here only on the new moon. On the full moon, they are a day’s ride away. The stone is warm. [THRESHOLD]
Tinkanar (Itinerant Caravanserai) — A mobile market of wagons, open for one day each season. The location changes. The Tulkani announce it by dream — the dream of a sleeping merchant. [TRADE]
Story-Well — A dry well where the Tulkani throw written stories on parchment. The stories are offerings to the Dreamer. The well is full. The parchment never rots. At midnight, you can hear pages turning. [RITUAL]
The Ninth Cord’s Post — A wooden post at the center of every circle, with nine notches. The ninth notch is never carved. It is left for the Hollow. The Hollow never takes it — only counts it. [SYMBOL]
The Wandering Hearth — A wagon that is never hitched, always moving. It carries the council fire. The fire has been burning for three hundred years. It has never touched the ground. The ashes are knotted. [LEGEND]
Ikasha’s Dreaming Place (Myth) — A cave beneath a hill, where She Who Sleeps lies on a bed of knotted cords. If you untie a cord, she wakes. If she wakes, the world ends — or begins again. No one knows which. [MYTH]
(Judge/Keeper/Storyteller)
Caravan Judge with a dragging cord; Wagon-Keeper painting a wheel; Story-Seller with a dream-cord and a cup of water.
Hearts — People & Factions
Caravan Judge — Old, gray-braided, a cord so long it drags on the ground. She ties a knot for every judgment. Untying a knot voids the telling. She has never untied one. The cord remembers what she does not. [JUSTICE]
Wagon-Keeper — A woman with paint on her hands, a brush behind her ear. She paints a new color on her wagon each season. The colors are memories of places her grandmother saw. She is running out of colors. [CRAFT]
Story-Seller (Gulshat) — A young woman with a dream-cord around her wrist. She speaks in rhymes. Her stories are true — but only if you listen with your eyes closed. If you open them, the ending changes. [SOCIAL] [MYSTIC]
Ikasha’s Knife — A hooded figure with a mask of knotted cord. No face underneath. He cuts the cords of those who break the circle’s trust. The cut cord becomes a ghost. The ghost follows the breaker, whispering the story they tried to forget. [JUSTICE] [DEATH]
Vow-Broken (Exile) — A man with a single knot tied in his own hair. He never smiles. He is saving stories to buy back his name. He needs nine. He has eight. The ninth is the one he cannot tell. [COMMUNITY]
Cord-Maker — A woman with braids of horsehair and silk between her fingers. She can tell the meaning of a promise by the feel of the hair. Horsehair is heavy. Silk is light. A knotted hair from a sleeping child is heaviest of all. [CRAFT]
Hollow-Watcher — A boy who sits at the edge of the circle at dusk, watching the dark. He can see the Hollow when it walks. He points. The adults throw salt. The salt is from a pan that dried up nine generations ago. [SCOUT]
The Dreamer — A woman who sleeps in the Dream-Wagon. She never wakes during the day. She dreams the caravan’s path. The wagon follows her dreams. When she smiles, the road is easy. When she weeps, the Hollow is close. [MYSTIC]
Tinkanar Merchant — A fat man with nine bells on his hat. He sells knots and stories. He accepts only promises in trade. His reckoning is a cord. It has nine thousand knots. The oldest is tied around a memory of the Dreamer’s first whisper. [TRADE]
The Ghost of the Ninth Night — A translucent figure seen at abandoned circles. It was a Tulkani who stayed too long. It asks: “Is it the ninth hour yet?” Do not answer. It is not asking you. [DEATH]
The First Wagon-Keeper (Legend) — A skeleton driving a wagon of bones. The wheels are skulls. It appears when a circle is broken. It offers a ride. The ride leads to the Hollow — or to the Dreamer’s cave. No one has returned to say which. [LEGEND]
Ikasha’s Voice — A whisper heard in the Dream-Wagon at midnight. It speaks in riddles. “The ninth cord is not a cord,” it says. “It is the space between the knots. Count carefully. The Hollow does.” [MYSTIC]
The Unwitnessed — A Tulkani who never tied a single knot. No one remembers her name. She walks through circles unnoticed. She can break any vow because no one saw her make it. She is the Dreamer’s memory of herself, before the sealing. [MYTH]
(Toll/Story/Hollow)
A lord expects his due for camping on his land — negotiate nights or tell a story; the Hollow walks on the ninth night — a character hears their own name whispered; a stranger recognizes your memory-cord and asks for a tale.
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Recognition (Memory-Cord Seen) — Someone from your past sees the knots you carry. They ask for a story you promised. The story must be about a promise you kept or broke. If you cannot tell one, they tie a new knot — and the Hollow watches. [SOCIAL] [RECIPROCITY]
Lord’s Claim — The local lord arrives at the circle at dawn. “You have been here seven nights. Now comes the eighth.” The price is a story that flatters him. If the story fails, he seizes a wagon. The circle holds its breath — and the Hollow listens. [AUTHORITY] [NEGOTIATION]
Hollow Walks (Ninth Night) — Someone in the circle has miscounted. The ninth hour approaches. The lanterns flicker. A shadow stands at the edge. It whispers a name. The name is the last person who broke an oath — or the next. [DEATH] [FEAR]
Memory-Cord Tangled — Two promises conflict. The knots tighten. Blood is drawn. The judge must cut one cord. The severed cord becomes a ghost. The ghost accuses the cutter of favoritism — and the Hollow listens. [CONFLICT] [RECIPROCITY]
Wagon Wheel Broken — A wheel cracks. The circle is incomplete. The Hollow can enter. The wheel must be repaired before dusk. The repair requires a story — a true one told to the wood. The wood listens. The wood remembers. [DISASTER]
Tulkani Schism — Two judges dispute the meaning of a knot. The circle splits. Each judge claims authority. The party must choose which cord to follow. The other cord will remember — and so will the Hollow. [POLITICS]
Ikasha’s Dream Disturbed — A stranger enters the Dream-Wagon. The Dreamer wakes. Ikasha stirs. The ground trembles. The stranger must tell a story so good that the Dreamer falls back asleep. The stranger is you. [MYSTIC] [CRISIS]
Story Crossing (Bridge/Pass) — A guard demands a story to cross. Your story is not good enough. The guard demands a truth instead. The truth must be a secret. The secret must hurt. The guard will remember — and the Hollow will too. [TRAVEL] [SOCIAL]
Vow-Broken’s Return — An exile tries to rejoin the circle. The judge refuses. The exile demands the party speak for him. If they refuse, he cuts his own throat. If they speak, they hold a knot — and a story. [COMMUNITY] [DRAMA]
The Ninth Cord Cut — Someone cuts the ninth knot on the central post. The Hollow floods in. The lanterns go out. The circle becomes a cage. The party must re-tie the knot in the dark. The cord is warm. It has a pulse. [DEATH] [TRAP]
Ikasha’s Knife Betrayed — The Knife is offered a bribe to cut a false cord. He refuses. The briber attacks. The Knife is wounded. He asks the party to carry his mask. The mask weighs nothing until you put it on. Then it weighs everything — every knot ever cut. [COMBAT] [JUSTICE]
Tinkanar Closed (No Stories) — The mobile market is empty. The merchant has run out of knots. He is selling his own name. The price is a story that makes him weep. He has not wept in forty years. The last story he heard was a lie. The Hollow is waiting. [TRADE] [CRISIS]
Ikasha Wakes — The Dreamer dies. Ikasha opens her eyes. The sky turns white. She asks one question: “Who cut the ninth cord?” The answer must be a name. If no name is given, she takes all names — and the Hollow follows her out. [APOCALYPSE]
(Cord/Bead/Charm)
Memory-bead (a single knot, can be used to call in a story once); safe-haven oath (a knotted cord that guarantees sanctuary in any Tulkani circle); dream-cord (gift from Ikasha — one question answered in a dream, but the ninth knot tightens).
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Memory-Bead (Single Knot) — A small knot on a leather thong. Present it to ask for a story from any Tulkani. The knot will loosen after use. If it is not retied within a year, the story becomes a burden — and the Hollow will ask for it. [SOCIAL]
Safe-Haven Oath (Knotted Cord) — A braided cord with three knots. Hang it on your wagon to guarantee sanctuary in any Tulkani circle. The cord must be renewed each season. A new knot is added. After nine knots, it becomes a dream-cord — and the Hollow will notice you. [TRAVEL]
Dream-Cord (Ikasha’s Gift) — A silk cord with nine knots, the ninth loose. Once, sleep on it to ask Ikasha one question. She will answer in a dream. The answer is always a riddle. The ninth knot tightens after use. When it tightens fully, Ikasha wakes — and the world changes. [MYSTIC]
Caravan Judge’s Cord (Borrowed) — A length of braided horsehair. Tie it around your wrist to gain + 1 Position in any negotiation with Tulkani. The cord is the judge’s own. She will want it back. The return is a negotiation — and a story. [SOCIAL]
Wagon-Keeper’s Paint (Pot) — A clay pot of blue pigment. Paint your own wagon wheel, and no lord will demand rent for nine days. The paint is made from crushed sky-stone. It glows under moonlight. The Hollow avoids it — but the lord will send a spy. [TRAVEL]
Story-Seller’s Verse — A single verse of a true story. Recite it to calm a spirit or end a feud. The verse works once. After that, the story belongs to the listener. You cannot tell it again — but you can tell a different truth. [SOCIAL] [MYSTIC]
Ikasha’s Mask (Knotted) — A mask of knotted cord. Wear it to become invisible to the Hollow for one night. The mask has no eye holes. You must walk by memory. The memory may fail. If it fails, the Hollow sees you — and smiles. [STEALTH] [DEATH]
Hollow-Watcher’s Salt Pouch — A leather pouch of salt blessed by the boy who watches the circle. Throw it to banish an Oath-Keeper. The salt is bitter. The Oath-Keeper will taste it. It will remember your face — and your smell. [COMBAT] [DEATH]
Tinkanar Merchant’s Bell — One of nine bells from the merchant’s hat. Ring it to summon him anywhere. He will come. He will demand payment in stories. He will not leave until paid. He has a long memory — and the Hollow listens. [TRADE]
Vow-Broken’s Hair Knot — A single knot tied in human hair. It contains a broken promise. Use it to void a contract. The knot is from an exile. He wants it back. He will give a story in return — the story of how he broke his vow. [SOCIAL] [MAGIC]
The Ninth Cord’s Post Fragment — A splinter of wood from the central post. Touch it to any knot to learn who tied it. The splinter is warm. It will burn your hand if the knot was tied in false witness. The truth leaves no scar — only a memory. [MYSTIC]
First Wagon-Keeper’s Skull — A human skull painted with wheel patterns. Place it at the center of a circle to keep the Hollow away for nine nights. The skull whispers on the ninth night. It asks: “Is it time?” Say no. If you say yes, it will take your place — and your story. [DEATH] [SANCTUARY]
Ikasha’s Dream (Bottle) — A glass bottle containing a sleeping breath. Break it to send a question to Ikasha. She will answer in a vision. The vision lasts one minute. The cost is one memory. The memory is forgotten forever. The memory is always a happy one — until it is gone. [MYSTIC]
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 (knots, cords, beads) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo knot-omens — a cord that tightens without being pulled, a knot that unties itself, a wheel that stops turning at the ninth spoke. The Hollow is close.
Additional Features: Itinerant Mechanics
The Ninth Night Rule: A Tulkani caravan may camp on a lord’s land for seven nights without payment. On the eighth night, the lord may ask his due — typically a story, a promise, or a small service. On the ninth night, the Hollow comes. No Tulkani stays nine nights in one place. A party camping with Tulkani must leave by the eighth dusk or face the Hollow’s attention. Mechanic: Each night the party camps in a Tulkani circle, mark a segment on a Ninth Night Timer [8]. At 7 segments, the lord (or local authority) arrives to ask his due. At 8 segments, the Hollow manifests. The party can leave before 8 to reset the timer.
Story as Kinship: Tulkani do not use coin. What passes between them are stories, promises, and memories. A good story can buy a meal, a horse, or safe passage. A bad story can start a feud. The GM should encourage players to tell brief in-character stories; the quality (or a Presence + Sway roll) determines its worth. On a success, the story is worth 1 Measure of value; on a critical success, 2. On a failure, the listener is offended — the party gains − 1 Position on their next social roll in that circle. A player may also offer a truth (a secret, a confession, a memory) instead of a story; a truth is always worth 2 Measures but marks 1 Bond to the Dreamer.
Land Rent and Neutrality: Tulkani circles are neutral ground. No lord may collect taxes or enforce laws inside a circle, regardless of whose territory it sits on. However, the lord may ask his due at the circle’s edge, and the Tulkani will negotiate. A party inside a Tulkani circle is under the Caravan Judge’s protection — but if the party commits a crime, the judge may expel them to the Hollow.
Memory-Cords and Reciprocity: Every Tulkani carries a memory-cord — a braided strand of horsehair and silk, with knots tied for every promise made and kept. A Tulkani who breaks a promise must cut the corresponding knot; the cut cord becomes a ghost that follows the oath-breaker until the promise is fulfilled. Outsiders may borrow a Tulkani memory-cord; the knots then record their promises. The Tulkani see this as reciprocity: what is given returns, and the circle always balances.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Unwitnessed Weaver (Inaea): The knot that binds gently; the cord that remembers mercy.
The Cord-Cutter (Isoka): The clean break; the shedding of false promises.
The Dreamer Below (Ikasha): She who sleeps in the wagon; she who dreams the road.
The Ninth Traveler (The Traveler): The road that has no end; the threshold that is always one step away.
The Ninth Night: A Story Timer
When the Hollow walks on the ninth night (or when the Ninth Night Timer reaches 8), it does not attack. It asks. The GM should select or roll on the table below to determine what story the Hollow demands. The party must then tell a story (in character, as a group) that satisfies the Hollow’s request. The GM judges success based on creativity, coherence, and whether the story fits the prompt.
| d8 | The Hollow Asks For… |
|---|---|
| 1 | A story about a door that was left open. |
| 2 | A tale of a promise kept when breaking it would have been easier. |
| 3 | A confession of a small cruelty you have never admitted. |
| 4 | A story that ends with the number eight, not nine. |
| 5 | A memory of a road you will never walk again. |
| 6 | A lie that became true because someone believed it. |
| 7 | A story about a gift you gave and never received thanks for. |
| 8 | A tale of a name you have forgotten — and why you forgot it. |
If the party succeeds (the GM decides), the Hollow retreats, and the Ninth Night Timer resets to 0. If they fail, the Hollow takes a knot — one of the party’s active Boons, a point of Reputation, or a memory (erase a minor fact or a Bond for one session). The timer resets but the Hollow’s attention lingers (the GM gains 2 SB to spend on future supernatural complications).
Story Bonds: Promises and Stakes
The Tulkani treat stories as the most valued exchange. When dealing with Tulkani, the party may offer a Story Promise instead of coin or goods. A Story Promise is a verbal contract: the party agrees to tell a true story (on a future occasion) to the Tulkani elder or to a specific person the elder names. The promise is witnessed by the circle — a knot is tied on a cord.
Stakes: The Tulkani may ask for something held in trust — a minor secret, a lock of hair, or a written name — set against the promise. If the promise is broken, the stake is given to the Hollow (it vanishes, and the party gains + 2 to the Hollow Attention timer).
Echo: A story promised but delayed echoes. Each season the promise goes unfulfilled, the GM may ask the party to tell a small story (a paragraph) to the table as a reminder. If they refuse, the Hollow’s attention ticks + 1.
Forgiveness: A story promise can be forgiven if the party tells a story that makes the Caravan Judge weep — or laugh so hard she cuts the cord herself. This is a high-DC social roll (typically Presence + Performance vs. DV 5) and may require an actual in-character performance.
Mini-Generator: Stories the Tulkani Trade
When a Tulkani offers a story in exchange for information, goods, or passage, roll on this table to determine its nature and mechanical effect.
| d6 | Story Type & Effect |
|---|---|
| 1 | A Warning. The story reveals a hidden danger (the GM must tell the party about one upcoming hazard or ambush). The story is true — but the teller may have exaggerated. Effect: The party gains + 1 Position to avoid that specific hazard. |
| 2 | A Route. The story describes a forgotten path, a smuggler’s trail, or a safe ford. Effect: For the next travel leg, the party may ignore one environmental penalty (difficult terrain, bad weather, etc.). |
| 3 | A Claim. The story recounts an old promise tied to the teller’s family. The party may choose to honor it (gain trust from the Tulkani but also a Mark — a minor promise that the GM can call in later) or ignore it (the Tulkani is offended; − 1 Position on future social rolls with that circle). |
| 4 | A Secret. The story reveals a piece of gossip about a local lord, merchant, or rival faction. Effect: The party gains a one-use Secret Leverage — + 2 dice on a single social roll against that person. |
| 5 | A Lament. The story is a tragedy — a death, a lost love, a failed quest. Those who listen properly gain + 1 die to resist fear or despair for the next scene. The teller, however, becomes melancholy ( − 1 die on their next roll). |
| 6 | A Dream. The story is not quite true — it is a dream the Dreamer had. The party may ask the GM one yes/no question about the near future (the next scene or the next leg of travel). The answer is always cryptic, but never false. |
Tulkani Knot-Weaving: A Witch’s Tradition
The Tulkani do not separate magic from craft. A knotted cord is both a tool and a spell; a story is both a memory and a working. The Knot-Weaver is the Tulkani equivalent of a witch — a practitioner who works with cord, thread, and the weight of promises.
Core Practices:
Memory-Cords: A cord braided with knots for every promise made and kept. The knot-weaver can read a memory-cord like a ledger, seeing every obligation the bearer has incurred. She can also add knots to a memory-cord, binding a new promise.
Dream-Cords: A cord braided from silk and hair, with nine knots — the ninth left loose. Sleeping on a dream-cord allows the bearer to ask Ikasha one question. The ninth knot tightens after use. When it tightens fully, Ikasha wakes.
Cut Cords: A cord cut with the knot-weaver’s shears severs a promise or a curse. The cut cord becomes a ghost — the memory of the broken promise. The ghost follows the oath-breaker until the promise is fulfilled or the ghost is tied back into a new cord.
Woven Wards: A woven cord hung around a wagon or a threshold keeps the Hollow at bay. The cord must be renewed each season; a new knot is added each time. After nine knots, it becomes a dream-cord — and the Hollow will notice.
Cartomancy: Tulkani cartomancers are a variation on the knot-weaver tradition. The cards are a different kind of knot — a story told in symbols rather than thread. A cartomancer reads the cards by feeling for the tension between them, the way a weaver feels for the tension in a cord. The suits are the four strands of the world’s thread; the ranks are the knots that hold it together.
The Knot-Weaver’s Price: Knot-weavers pay for their power in memory. Each knot they tie costs them a piece of their own recollection — a face, a name, a moment. They remember their trade, but they forget why they learned it. This is why Caravan Judges are old: they have tied so many knots that they no longer remember their own childhoods. They carry the memory of the circle instead.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
Tulkani Memory-Cords and the Sidhi Freedman’s Seal: Sidhi merchants on the Brass Coast accept Tulkani memory-cords as proof of standing. A well-knotted cord can buy a ship. A cut cord can sink one. The Sidhi know that a Tulkani knot is worth more than a signature — and that the Hollow reads over their shoulder.
Ikasha and the Veiled Sisters (Ashaan): The Tulkani are the primary spreaders of Ikasha’s cult outside Ashaan. A Breath-less agent may be disguised as a Tulkani story-seller; a Tulkani caravan may be a mobile safe house. The Sisters have tried to infiltrate the circles three times. Each time, the spy was found with a cord around her throat — tied in a knot she could not untie.
The Ninth Night and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Tulkani’s ninth-night rule is the only reason the Hollow has not overrun the eastern trade routes. Aelaerem hedge-keepers sometimes hire Tulkani guides to reset the Hollow’s attention timers. The payment is always a story — and the story is always about a door that was left open.
Story Debts and the Ukwe (Sekogo): The Tulkani believe that the Ukwe is the first memory-cord tree. They leave offerings of knotted grass at its roots. A Tulkani judge may consult the Ukwe to verify a story’s truth. The Ukwe speaks in rustles. A single rustle means true. Two mean false. Three mean the story is not finished — and the Hollow is listening.
Tulkani Superstitions (burn for + 1 die once)
Bread to the Circle: Crumble a crust at the center of the wagon ring. Ignore the first Recognition penalty. [SUPERSTITION]
Knot the Lantern: Tie a single knot in the rope of a lantern. Cancel Lord’s Claim or take − 1 die on your next negotiation (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]
Name to the Ninth Post: Whisper a dead judge’s name into the central post. Gain + 1 Effect when telling a story this scene, but mark 1 Bond to the Dreamer. [SUPERSTITION]
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Tulkani judges or local lords.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby circle-watchers or Hollow scouts.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for vow-breakers or story-hunters.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable camping ground.
Supply Strain: Mark + 1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Local Caravan Judge or lord’s herald becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to lantern failure or broken wheel.
Foe Appears: A story-hunter or Hollow manifestation 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 Tulkani riders, lord’s men, or Hollow spirits arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — knot cut / wagon broken / ninth night triggered.
Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.
Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition appropriate to fiction.
Major Turns (4+ SB)
Trap Springs: A prepared danger activates with full effect.
Authority Arrival: High Caravan Judge, Ikasha’s Knife, or Hollow’s Oath-Keeper intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — circle breaks / wagon burns / lanterns go out.
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
Tulkani (Knot Law): Cords tighten without warning, a knot unties itself, a wheel stops at the ninth spoke.
Tulkani (Story Echo): A story you told returns to you changed; a listener laughs at a tragedy; the wind carries your words to someone who should not hear.
Tulkani (Ninth Night): A lantern flickers, a shadow stands at the circle’s edge, a whisper says your name from the dark.
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Stealth): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose False Knot.
Cut the Cord (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a memory-bead is in your possession, + 1 die.
Weather the Hollow (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Hollow Walks, you pick who hears the whisper; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (Knot & Dream)
The Cord-Cutter (Nine Broken Promises) — Phases: Memory-Cords Severed → Orchestrated Exile → Circle Coup. Cracks: re-tie a cut cord, expose a false judge, survive a night outside the circle.
The Dream-Eater (Ikasha’s Shadow) — Phases: Dreamer Waking → Procession of Empty Wagons → Knot-Baptism of a Storyteller. Cracks: relic dream-cord, survivor testimony, the ninth cord refusing to tighten.
The Hollow’s Enforcer (A Debt That Walks) — Phases: Recognition of the Debt → The Hollow’s Summons → The Reckoning. Cracks: tell a story the Hollow has never heard, pay the debt in a different currency (a memory, a promise, a name), or convince the Hollow that the debt was never owed.
Among the Tulkani, power flows through knots, stories, and the memory of the circle. A Caravan Judge’s authority is recognized by every lord from the steppe to the coast — not because of armies, but because the Hollow respects the judge’s cord. The Tulkani have no temples, no kings, no borders. They have the ninth night, and that is enough.
For the GM: Power in Tulkani society is measured in knots tied, stories told, and nights counted. Patronage often takes the form of memory-beads, dream-cords, or safe-haven oaths — each holding the spirit of a promise. To emphasize the itinerant mechanics:
Require players to negotiate land rent with local lords, using stories or promises as their answer. A failed negotiation may lead to the Hollow.
Use the Ninth Night Timer as a tension mechanic: every night in a Tulkani camp advances the timer. At 8, the Hollow manifests unless the party leaves.
Let memory-cords be physical props — actual knotted strings that players can hold, tie, or cut. A cut cord is a dramatic moment.
Emphasize that storytelling is a skill: reward creative players with mechanical bonuses, and let failed stories have consequences — a bored lord may tighten his claim, an offended spirit may curse.
Treat Tulkani society as a web of reciprocity, not a reckoning of accounts. What you give, you get back — but the circle decides when.
In Tulkani society, the knot remembers everything — and the ninth night forgets nothing.