The Eastern Realms

“The maps of the empire draw the East as a single sweep – Sihai, Nihori, Ayokha – all pressed together like tiles on a game board. The roads know better. Sihai measures time in dynasties; Nihori counts it in storms. Ayokha negotiates between them with the patience of the monsoon. And beneath them all, the older peoples keep their own thresholds, their own debts, their own ways of not being seen.” — Dusana of the Raven Road, at the edge of the Inland Sea

Sihai

The Central Kingdom.

The Mandate of Heaven is not a right. It is a loan. The emperor borrows legitimacy from the ancestors, from the land, from the Hollow itself. When the loan is due, the empire falls. I do not serve the emperor. I serve the ledger that tracks the interest.

I am a Provincial Censor. My brush is heavier than any sword. A single stroke can erase a name, a family, a dynasty. The emperor reads my reports and trembles. He knows that I have written nine reports this year. The ninth is about him.

Sihai is the central kingdom, the seat of the Emperor and the Mandate of Heaven. Its canals carry grain from the south; its examination halls produce bureaucrats who govern by the brush. Power here is measured in ink, not iron. The Censorate watches everyone; the Salt Monopoly controls trade; the Lethai-thora keep the secrets that the Mandate prefers to forget. But here’s the secret the Emperor doesn’t want you to know: the Mandate is not a divine right. It is a loan. The ancestors are the creditors. The Hollow collects the interest. Every dynasty that has ever fallen did so because the interest came due and the emperor could not pay.

Beneath the mortal bureaucracy runs a deeper one: the Celestial Bureaucracy of gods, ghosts, and ancestors, where every official has a heavenly counterpart and every erased name becomes a hungry ghost. The Lethai-thora—the ancient archivists who taught the first emperors to write—still keep the hidden ledgers, the ones that record what the Censorate burns. A well-written couplet can appease a ghost; a forged seal can summon a demon. The Hollow’s ninth debt is the unpaid interest on the Mandate itself.

Never speak of succession before naming the Emperor. The Censorate has ears in every tea house. A misplaced word can erase your name from the rolls.

— Quiet Chancellor Wei, who has never smiled and whose seal is a laughing mouth

What do people eat for breakfast? Congee with preserved vegetables—the congee is rice boiled until it is memory, the vegetables are salted and aged in clay jars. The jars are sealed with the emperor’s own wax. The wax is a promise. The promise is that the vegetables will not poison you. The promise is sometimes broken.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To write their name. Sihai children are taught the eight strokes of the character “person”—the ninth stroke is the one that turns a name into a signature. A signature is a contract. A contract is a debt. A debt is a life.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their chop—the seal they carry to sign documents. A stranger whose chop is jade is a noble. A stranger whose chop is brass is a clerk. A stranger whose chop is wood is a merchant. A stranger with no chop is a ghost. Ghosts cannot sign contracts. Ghosts cannot be trusted.

What is the most common crime? Examination fraud—but fraud is not a crime, it is a family business. The examinations determine who governs. The questions are leaked in advance. The answers are memorized. The examiners are bribed. The system is a sieve. The sieve is called “merit.”

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Emperor is a figurehead. The real power is the Censorate—nine ministers who have never been seen together. Their names are not recorded. Their faces are not painted. Their orders are whispered. The Emperor signs what they tell him to sign. The Emperor has not refused in forty years.

Where do people go when they die? To the ancestral tablets. The dead are not buried. Their names are written on wooden tablets, placed in the family shrine. The tablets are fed with rice and tea. The dead eat the steam. The dead are never full.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a calligraphy—a scroll written in your own blood. The scroll is presented to the wronged party’s ancestral shrine. If the ancestors accept, you are forgiven. If the scroll bursts into flame, you are not. If the scroll writes itself, the ancestors are angry. The ancestors’ anger is a famine.

What is the most important festival? The Festival of the Ancestors (autumn). The tablets are cleaned and polished. The dead are invited to feast. The feast is laid out on the family altar. The food is removed after an hour. The dead have eaten the essence. The essence is memory.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Censorate’s ninth minister is a woman—the emperor’s own mother, who was supposed to have died in childbirth. She faked her death to escape the politics of the court. She has been running the Censorate from a hidden villa in the western hills. The emperor does not know. The emperor’s mother signs his death warrants. He signs them too.

Sihai — “The Central Kingdom”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Jingdu

Quick Reference

Tagline: The Mandate is a memory. The ancestors are listening. The Hollow collects what is forgotten.

Quiet Chancellor (Elite): “The Mandate of Heaven is not a right. It is a story we tell ourselves — that the emperor remembers the names of the dead. When the story falters, the empire falls. I do not serve the emperor. I serve the silence where the forgotten names should be.”

Provincial Censor (Commoner): “My brush is heavier than any sword. A single stroke can make a name vanish — from ledgers, from lips, from the dreams of those who loved it. The emperor reads my reports and trembles. He knows that I have written nine reports this year. The ninth is about him.”

Genre / Mood: Celestial bureaucracy, ink-washed horror, examination hell, the weight of forgotten ancestors.

Starting Location: An examination hall where ink-stained desks face a silent proctor. A Provincial Censor holds up a scroll: “This candidate’s family name has been erased. He does not know. You will tell him — or you will take his place in the silence.”

Sihai is the central kingdom, the seat of the Emperor and the Mandate of Heaven. Its canals carry grain from the south; its examination halls produce bureaucrats who govern by the brush. But beneath the mortal bureaucracy runs a deeper one: the Celestial Bureaucracy of gods, ghosts, and ancestors, where every official has a heavenly counterpart and every erased name becomes a hungry ghost. The Lethai-thora — the ancient archivists who taught the first emperors to write — still keep the hidden scrolls, the ones that record what the Censorate burns.

Power here is measured in ink, not iron. The Censorate watches everyone; the Salt Monopoly controls trade; the Kitchen God reports every household’s secrets to the Jade Emperor at New Year. A well-written couplet can appease a ghost; a forged seal can summon a demon. The Hollow’s ninth weight is the silence at the heart of the Mandate itself. Every dynasty inherits its legitimacy; every silence is a weight.

What you notice first: The smell of ink and canal water, but also incense and grave-soil. The way officials stamp every document with a brass seal — and the way the seal leaves a faint watermark that looks like a face. The constant ticking of water-timers, but sometimes the ticking skips a beat, and the shadows pause to listen.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never speak of succession before naming the Emperor. The Censorate has ears in every tea house — and the ghosts have ears in every wall. A misplaced word can make a name vanish from the rolls, and from the memory of the ancestors.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Brush

Power here is measured in examination scores, salt licenses, and the thickness of a family’s archive. The Emperor rules, but the Censorate audits, the Salt Monopoly finances, and the Lethai-thora remember what the Censorate burns. A provincial governor’s authority rests on his examination rank; a merchant’s on his salt license. The dead are not gone — they are merely demoted. The Hungry Ghost Festival is the only time the Celestial Bureaucracy accepts appeals. The Hollow watches from the missing ninth step, the unpoured ninth cup, the unsaid ninth name.

Prominent NPCs of Sihai

Names of Sihai

Inspired by the central kingdom: short, tonal, with honorifics. Surnames often denote a clan or a prefecture.

(Hall/Canal/Archive)

Examination hall with ink-stained desks; Grand Canal lock with barges queueing; Lethai-thora hidden archive behind a waterfall.

Spades — Places

2. Examination Hall (Hell of Ink) — A long building with ink-stained desks, silent proctors, and a single bell. The bell rings when a candidate cheats. It rings once a day on average. The ghosts of failed candidates write answers on the ceiling. [DEATH]

3. Grand Canal Lock (Dragon Gate) — A stone gate where barges queue for inspection. Officials stamp manifests. The stamp leaves a watermark that glows under moonlight — a dragon scale. Forgeries are obvious. The dragon knows. [MAGIC]

4. Lethai-thora Hidden Archive — A pavilion behind a waterfall, filled with forbidden scrolls. The scrolls are sealed with silk cords. The cords have nine knots. The ninth is a lie. The archivists are all ghosts. [SECRET]

5. Salt Commissioner’s Counting House — A fortress of ledgers, guarded by armed clerks. The ledgers are written in disappearing ink. Only the Commissioner knows the reagent — tears of a famine widow. [AUTHORITY]

6. Provincial Censorate Office — A gray building with a brass scale above the door. The scale weighs truth and lies. It has never balanced. When it tips, someone is erased. [JUSTICE]

7. Emperor’s Forbidden Garden (Kunlun Pavilion) — A walled garden where no one may enter without permission. The garden contains a single tree with nine branches. The ninth branch is dead. A phoenix nests in the eighth. [MYTH]

8. Well of Erased Names — A stone well where the Censorate throws scrolls of erased lineages. The scrolls burn as they fall. The smoke smells of ink and old blood. The well is bottomless. [DEATH]

9. Tea House of the Ninth Cup (Ghost Festival) — A popular establishment where the ninth cup is never poured. The owner has a bell that rings when someone pours the ninth cup. It rings often. The ring attracts hungry ghosts. [SOCIAL]

10. Canal Mother’s Court — A shaded bench where water rights are assigned. The bench is carved with the names of every canal mother for nine generations. The ninth name is blank. It waits. [COMMUNITY]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  J ] The Emperor’s Tomb (Unfinished) — A subterranean complex where the current emperor’s tomb is being built. The workers are slaves. They will be buried with him. They know. They carve their names into the walls. [DEATH]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  Q ] The Hollow’s Gate (Subterranean) — A crack in the floor of the Forbidden Garden. The crack is warm. It whispers the names of emperors who died without heirs. The names are getting longer. [MYSTERY]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  K ] The Ninth Ledger’s Vault — A vault beneath the Counting House, accessible only by nine keys. The ninth key is held by the Hollow. The Hollow will surrender it — for a price. The price is a name you have never spoken. [WEIGHT]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♠  A ] The First Examination Hall (Myth) — Where the first emperor tested his sons. The hall is invisible. Only those who have passed nine examinations can see it. Inside, the first emperor still grades papers. [LEGEND]

(Censor/Merchant/Keeper)

Provincial censor with a list of forbidden words; salt merchant with honest scales except when they aren’t; Lethai-thora memory-keeper with a silence-token.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Provincial Censor — Gray-robed, a brass seal on a chain. He carries a list of forbidden words. “Speak the ninth word,” he says, “and your name will join the list.” The list is written on human skin. [AUTHORITY]

3. Salt Merchant — A thin woman with a brass scale. Her weights are hollow. “The scale is honest,” she says. “My hand is not.” She has nine weights. The ninth is empty. [TRADE]

4. Lethai-thora Keeper — Silent, carrying a brass lamp. She writes on water with a reed brush. “The words vanish,” she says. “That is how I know they are true.” Her lamp burns without oil. [SECRET]

5. Canal Mother — A matriarch in blue robes, a key to the sluice gate on her belt. “Water is memory,” she says. “The canal remembers every bribe.” She has never taken a bribe. She has taken nine stories. [COMMUNITY]

6. Examination Candidate — A young man with ink-stained fingers. He has failed nine times. “The tenth will be different,” he says. He has said this nine times. His shadow is missing two fingers. [DESPERATION]

7. Quiet Chancellor’s Spy — A woman disguised as a tea-seller. She listens at every table. She writes reports on her own skin. The ink is invisible. Her skin is full. She is running out of space. [STEALTH]

8. Salt Worker (Slave) — A man with cracked hands, harvesting salt from pans. “The salt tastes of tears,” he says. “Whose tears, I do not know.” He is bound to nine years of labor. He has served eight. [LABOR]

9. Hollow’s Oath-Keeper — A tall figure in gray, with too many fingers. It carries a ledger. It asks: “Where is the ninth name?” It will not leave without an answer. Its ledger is made of human bone. [DEATH]

10. Emperor’s Dreamer — A woman locked in a tower. She dreams the emperor’s nightmares. She wakes screaming. The dreams are always about the Hollow. She has not dreamed in nine days. The emperor has not slept. [MYSTERY]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  J ] The First Censor (Ghost) — A skeleton in gray robes, sitting in the Well of Erased Names. He asks: “Did I erase the right name?” The answer is always a lie. He knows. He asks anyway. [DEATH]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  Q ] Canal Mother’s Ghost — A translucent figure walking the canal at midnight. She checks the water level. When it drops, a reckoning is due. She carries a dipper that never empties. [COMMUNITY]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  K ] The Ninth Emperor’s Ghost — A crowned skeleton in the unfinished tomb. He asks: “Is the Mandate renewed?” If you say no, he weeps. His tears turn to ink. The ink writes new laws. [LEGEND]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♡  A ] Kuva’s Shadow (Hollow) — The vast darkness that covers the Forbidden Garden at midnight. It asks: “Who holds the ninth key?” The answer is a name no one knows. The darkness absorbs the answer. [PATRON]

(Forgery/Monsoon/Ancestor)

A scroll is found to be a forgery — the party is blamed; monsoon breaks early — the canal closes; an ancestor demands a public accounting of a forgotten burden.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Forged Scroll — A tax ledger is discovered to be a fake. The forgery is perfect. The forger is a Censorate clerk. The scroll is not a forgery — it is the original. The Censorate has been lying for centuries. [DECEPTION]

3. Monsoon Breaks Early — The canal closes for inspection. Delay 2 segments. The closure is a cover. The Censorate is searching for a specific barge. The barge carries a forbidden ancestor tablet. [WEATHER]

4. Ancestor’s Demand — A ghost appears at the family shrine. It demands a public accounting. The obligation is from nine generations ago. The ancestor will not leave until it is settled. It will accept a story if the story is true. [DEATH]

5. Censorate Audit — Officials arrive with a warrant. They have a list of forbidden words. The list includes a word you spoke yesterday. The penalty is erasure. The word was your grandmother’s name. [AUTHORITY]

6. Salt Monopoly Price Hike — The Commissioner doubles the salt tax. Riots begin. The hike is a bribe. The bribe is to the Quiet Chancellor. He accepted. The salt is now gray. It used to be white. [TRADE]

7. Canal Lock Sabotage — Someone drops a barge at the lock. The canal backs up. The saboteur is a Canal Mother’s son. He wants to flood the Censorate office. The water is rising. The papers are drowning. [DISASTER]

8. Examination Cheating Scandal — A candidate is caught with a cheat sheet. The sheet has your name. The cheat sheet was planted. The real target is your patron. The cheat sheet is written in disappearing ink. It will be gone by dawn. [TRAP]

9. Lethai-thora Archive Fire — A lamp falls in the hidden pavilion. Scrolls burn. The fire was set by the Censorate. They want to erase a specific history. The history is about the first emperor’s true lineage. [DESTRUCTION]

10. Hollow’s Weight Called — An Oath-Keeper appears at the tea house. It points at a party member. A burden has found its bearer. The burden is the ninth cup. Settle it in story or memory. The Oath-Keeper will know if you lie. [WEIGHT]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  J ] Emperor’s Health Fails — The Mandate wavers. Succession rumors spike. The emperor has no heir. The Hollow is watching. It will claim the ninth name. The name is the emperor’s. He does not know it. [POLITICS]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  Q ] Forbidden Garden Breached — Someone enters the garden without permission. The Hollow follows. The intruder is a child. The Hollow asks: “Why are you here?” The child does not know. The child is a ghost. It has been dead for nine years. [MYSTERY]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  K ] Ninth Ledger Stolen — The vault is cracked. The ninth ledger is missing. The ledger contains the names of everyone the Censorate has erased. The thief is a ghost. The ghost is the first emperor. He wants his name back. [DEATH]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♣  A ] Mandate Falls — The emperor dies without an heir. The Hollow claims the throne. The Hollow sits on the dragon throne. It asks: “Who will rule?” Silence is the only answer. The Hollow begins to write. [APOCALYPSE]

(Pass/Seal/Token)

Stamped pass from a provincial governor (one use); copy of the Celestial Ledger (reveals one hidden tax); Lethai-thora silence-token (one question the keeper must answer).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Stamped Pass (Governor’s Seal) — A wax-sealed document. Grants passage through any provincial checkpoint. The seal is a tiger. It glows when a Censorate agent is nearby. The tiger’s eyes follow you. [TRAVEL]

3. Celestial Ledger (Copy) — A scroll containing one hidden tax. Use it to blackmail an official. The ledger is written in disappearing ink. Read it aloud before it fades. The ink tastes of copper. [BLACKMAIL]

4. Lethai-thora Silence-Token — A brass charm. Present it to demand a keeper answer one question. The keeper cannot lie. The question must be about a forgotten secret. The secret is never small. [SOCIAL]

5. Junk Seal (Official) — A brass seal. Impersonate a provincial official for one scene. The seal is warm. It glows when someone tests its authenticity. The glow is the color of a lie. [DECEPTION]

6. Canal Mother’s Key — A bronze key. Open any sluice gate in the Grand Canal. The key is cold. It warms when a water right is being violated. The warmth is the temperature of a drowning. [AUTHORITY]

7. Salt Commissioner’s Waiver — A stamped document. Exempts you from the salt tax for one year. The waiver is written on silk. The silk was stolen from the Commissioner’s own robes. The thread is from a noose. [TRADE]

8. Examination Answer Key (Forged) — A cheat sheet that actually works. Pass one examination automatically. The answers are written in invisible ink. The reagent is moonlight. The answers are wrong — but the examiners cannot tell. [DECEPTION]

9. Quiet Chancellor’s Seal (Jade) — A jade seal. Commands the Censorate to ignore one crime. The seal is a forgery. The Chancellor made it himself. It still works. The jade is warm. It was cut from a tomb. [AUTHORITY]

10. Forbidden Garden Key (Iron) — A heavy iron key. Opens the gate to the Emperor’s garden. The key is cursed. Each use ages the wielder one month. The key does not care. It has been waiting for centuries. [MYSTERY]

11. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  J ] Hollow’s Ninth Ledger Page — A single page from the ninth ledger. Contains nine erased names. Speak a name, and that person’s deeds become known. The Hollow will remember too. The page is warm. It has a pulse. [DEATH]

12. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  Q ] First Censor’s Brush — A brush made from a phoenix feather. Write any name, and it is erased from all records. The brush works once. Then it crumbles. The Hollow will know. The phoenix will not forgive. [LEGEND]

13. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  K ] Canal Mother’s Ghostly Dipper — A clay dipper used by a dead Canal Mother. Use it to control any sluice gate. The dipper is cold. It weeps water when a reckoning is due. The water is salt. It tastes of old grief. [COMMUNITY]

14. =0 ♠ =0 ♡ =0 ♢ =0 ♣ ♢  A ] The Mandate Itself (Scroll) — A scroll that proves the current emperor has no legitimate claim. Read it aloud, and the Mandate falls. The Hollow will take the throne. The scroll burns after reading. The smoke is a new name. [APOCALYPSE]

Censorate Audit Complications (d6)

When a character faces a Censorate audit (see Additional Features), roll or choose an additional complication that escalates the stakes.

Hidden Archive Discoveries (d8)

When the party explores the Lethai-thora Hidden Archive or the Ninth Ledger’s Vault, roll to determine what forgotten secret they uncover.

Water Rights Disputes (d6)

When a conflict arises over canal access or irrigation, roll to determine the nature of the dispute.

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 (passes, seals, tokens) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo ink-omens—scrolls that rustle in still air, a lamp that burns green, a forgotten name whispered from a shelf, a ghost that asks for a pen.

Additional Features (Celestial Bureaucracy)

• The Mandate Timer [8] (Shared Campaign Timer ): Tracks the stability of the dynasty. The party inherits 2 ticks at the start of any adventure set in Sihai (the inherited burden). The timer ticks when the emperor’s health fails, when a succession dispute arises, when a major corruption scandal is exposed, or when the party breaks an oath witnessed by an ancestor. When the timer reaches 4: the Censorate becomes more aggressive (all audits start at Desperate Position). When it reaches 8: the Mandate fails — the Hollow claims the throne, civil war erupts, and the party must choose a side or flee. Resetting the timer requires an Ancestor Rite at the Imperial Ancestral Temple (downtime, costs 1 Supply and a truthful confession) or a public execution of a corrupt official (costs 1 Boon and may create enemies).

• The Two Ledgers (Ancestral Names Mechanic): Every character has two “names”: their Mortal Name (what the Censorate knows) and their Ancestral Name (recorded in the Celestial Ledger, kept by the Lethai-thora). The Ancestral Name cannot be erased by mortal means. Discovering a character’s Ancestral Name requires a Research Timer (size 6) in the Lethai-thora archives. Once known, the player may invoke the Ancestral Name once per session to gain  + 2 dice on any roll related to that ancestor’s domain (e.g., a farmer’s ancestor aids harvest, a soldier’s ancestor aids battle). However, invoking the Ancestral Name creates an Ancestral Weight (size 4 timer). When it fills, the ancestor demands a service — usually something the ancestor failed to do in life (e.g., “Apologize to my widow” or “Find my stolen seal”). Refusing the demand marks 1 Corruption and adds 2 ticks to the Mandate Timer .

• Censorate Audit (Social Combat Mechanic): The Censorate can audit any character at any time. An audit is a social combat with three phases:

  1. Pleadings (Presence + Sway vs. Censor’s Lore). Success grants  + 1 die to the next phase.

  2. Evidence (Wits + Insight vs. DV 4). Success reveals a hidden burden or a forged document; failure gives the Censor a piece of evidence against you.

  3. Judgment (Endurance + Lore vs. DV 5). Success: the character is cleared. Failure: the Censorate erases a name — the character loses one Bond (that person no longer remembers them) or one Asset (it is seized), and the Mandate Timer ticks  + 1.

  Players can avoid an audit by: Bribing the Censor (costs 1 Honey Jar or 1 Boon), Presenting a forged document (requires a Forgery Timer , size 4), or Calling a ghost witness (requires a Spirit + Lore test, DV 4; the ghost cannot lie, but it will ask for a favor in return – usually a promise that creates a new Ancestral Weight).

• Examination Hell (Dungeon Mechanic): The Forbidden Garden contains a subterranean examination hall where the ghosts of failed candidates still write their answers. The party can enter to find a lost Ancestral Name – but the hall is alive.

  • The hall has a Stress Timer (size 8). Each failed roll, each lie spoken, each broken taboo ticks the timer.

  • At 4: The hall begins to change. Doors lead to different corridors. Navigation becomes Desperate.

  • At 8: The Examiner Ghost appears — a skeleton in scholar’s robes. It asks one question. The party must answer in verse. If the verse is good, the ghost grants a boon (reveals one Ancestral Name). If poor, the ghost erases one of the party’s names — that character is forgotten by the living for 1d4 days (lose all Bonds temporarily, cannot be recognized). The Stress Timer resets after the encounter.

• Paper Soldiers and Hungry Ghosts (Minion Types):

  • Paper Soldiers (Tier I, Cap 2): Origami constructs animated by Censorate magic. They have Harm 2, Body 2, Melee 1. They are Vulnerable to fire (double Harm) and to a successful Lore test (reveals their true name, causing them to crumple).

  • Hungry Ghosts (Tier II, Cap 3): Spirits of those whose names were erased. They have Harm 3, Spirit 3, and the ability Memory Drain (touch, target forgets a minor detail — a face, a password, a skill point for one scene). They cannot cross a line of salt or a properly witnessed oath-circle.

• Water Rights as Ancestral Currency: In the canal system, water rights are traded like silver, but they are also offerings to the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas. A Canal Mother’s key is worth more than a chest of coins — it can also summon a rain spirit (once per season, calm a storm or flood a district). Forging a water right angers the Dragon King; the forger’s wells run dry for nine years (all Survival tests to find water suffer  − 2 dice).

• Lethai-thora Archivists of the First Seal: The Lethai-thora are not merely librarians — they are the keepers of the original Mandate, written on tortoise shells and dragon bones. They do not serve the emperor; they serve the record that predates the empire. A Lethai-thora keeper can declare any document void by writing “void” in water over it. The water must be from the Well of Erased Names. Doing so costs 1 Obligation to the Lethai-thora and ticks the Mandate Timer  + 1 (the Censorate will investigate).

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Jade Censor — The Witness. A magistrate who never blinks, who writes every truth in a ledger of jade.

  • The Dragon Salt — Maelstraeus. The price of a monopoly; the hidden cost of a nation’s thirst.

  • The Ninth Ancestor — Khemesh. The ghost of the first emperor, who still reviews petitions.

  • The Brush That Walks — The Traveler. A calligraphy brush that guides lost officials through the underworld.

  • The Kitchen’s Ear — The Sealed Gate. The god who reports every secret to the Celestial Bureaucracy.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Ninth Ledger and the Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara): The ninth ledger is said to contain the name of the prince who stole the amulet. The Veiled Sisters want to erase it. The Breath-less want to find it. The Lethai-thora have hidden it in a scroll that unrolls forever.

• Silence-Tokens and the Covenant (Mykkiel): The Covenant recognizes Lethai-thora silence-tokens as valid requests for closed hearings. A silence token can pause any court proceeding for the duration of a single breath. The token is a strip of silk from a burial shroud.

• Canal Mothers and the Fhara (Way of Silk): Fhara well-judges and Sihai canal mothers use similar water-measuring systems. A canal mother’s key can be used to negotiate a well contract — but the key must be dipped in the well first. The water will remember.

• The Mandate and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Hollow is the silence at the heart of the Mandate. Aelaerem hedge-keepers say that when a dynasty falls, the Hollow eats the ninth name. The name is always the emperor’s secret childhood name.

Sihai Superstitions (burn for  + 1 die once)

• Bread to the Canal: Crumble a crust into the water. Ignore the first Forged Scroll penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Scroll: Tie a single knot in a silk cord. Cancel Censorate Audit or take  − 1 die on your next forgery detection roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Well: Whisper a dead censor’s name into the Well of Erased Names. Gain  + 1 Effect when negotiating with the Censorate this scene, but mark Obligation to the Hollow. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Censorate clerks or ancestor ghosts.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby canal patrols or hungry ghosts.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for trackers or the Kitchen God.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable water level.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local censor or canal mother becomes aware and begins responding.

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

• Foe Appears: A paper soldier (origami construct) or a hungry ghost 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 Censorate guards, ancestor spirits, or paper soldiers arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—ancestor summoned/ledger stolen/mandate questioned.

• 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: Quiet Chancellor, Salt Commissioner, or First Censor’s Ghost intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—canal floods/archive burns/mandate 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

• Sihai (Celestial Bureaucracy): A ghost clerk appears with a writ, a paper seal floats down from nowhere, the Emperor’s Dreamer whispers a warning.

• Sihai (Ancestor Law): A family shrine glows, an ancestor’s portrait weeps ink, a forgotten burden is recalled in a dream.

• Sihai (Examination Hell): A failed candidate’s ghost asks for a pen, a test paper bleeds, the proctor’s bell rings nine times.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

• Cut the Seal (Presence + Lore): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a stamped pass is in your possession,  + 1 die.

• Weather the Audit (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Censorate Audit, you pick who testifies; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Brush & Mandate)

• The Forgotten Emperor (Ghost of the Ninth Seal) — Phases: Names Erased → Ledger Stolen → Mandate Reclaimed. Cracks: present a true ancestor tablet, expose a forged lineage, survive a night in the Well of Erased Names.

• The Brush That Writes Itself (Living Ink) — Phases: Paper Soldiers → Scroll Prison → Ink Flood. Cracks: a Lethai-thora silence-token, a confession written in water, the First Censor’s Brush.

In Sihai, power flows through ink, salt, and the weight of the Mandate. The Emperor rules, but the Censorate audits, the Salt Monopoly finances, the Lethai-thora remember, and the ancestors watch. A well-written couplet can appease a ghost; a forged seal can start a war. The Celestial Bureaucracy is always hiring.

For the GM: Power in Sihai is measured in examination scores, salt licenses, and the thickness of a family’s archive. Patronage often takes the form of stamped passes, ledger copies, or silence-tokens — each tied to a specific office, canal, or burden. To emphasize the mythological flavor:

• Use the Mandate Timer as a visible campaign front. The party’s actions can tick or reset it. Ancestor rites are the only safe way to reduce it.

• Enforce Censorate Audits as a recurring threat — players must maintain clean papers or face erasure. Ghost witnesses can be summoned by either side.

• Let water rights be a form of currency that can be stolen, forged, or contested — but angering the Dragon King has consequences.

• Introduce paper soldiers (origami constructs) as low-tier enemies and hungry ghosts as mid-tier threats. The Censorate employs both.

In Sihai, the brush forgets nothing — and the Hollow remembers every erased name.

Nihori

The Isles of the Dawn Spirit.

I ruled the waves before the Hollow learned to walk. My empire sank because I spoke a name I should not have. Do not speak my name. Do not ask what it was. The sea remembers. That is enough.

I am a Wanderer. I carry a broken sword and a grudge. The sword was my father’s. The grudge is mine. The man who killed him died nine years ago. I still walk the isles, looking for his ghost. The ghost is looking for me too.

Nihori is a chain of volcanic islands, shrouded in mist and lashed by storms. Here, the old empire sank beneath the waves, and the Lethai-al guard the drowned kingdom’s memory. The people are wanderers, duelists, and shrine maidens. They worship the storm spirits and fear the ninth wave. The Hollow breathes in the salt foam; the Oath-Keepers ride the tide. But here’s the secret the Shogun doesn’t want you to know: the old empire did not sink. It was pulled under. And whatever pulled it is still down there, waiting for the ninth wave to break the right way.

The Shogun sits in a half-ruined castle, his authority challenged by three rival daimyo who sharpen their blades and their treaties. Oni cults whisper in the ash wastes, offering forgotten bargains. The Storm Emperor’s ghost does not rule—but his silence haunts every island. The ninth taboo is absolute: never speak the name of the drowned capital. The sea will hear you, and it will ask why you called. And when the sea asks a question, it expects an answer—in blood, in memory, or in a name you did not mean to give.

Never speak the name of the drowned capital. The sea will hear you, and it will ask why you called.

— The Storm Emperor’s Ghost, who appears as a column of steam over the water

What do people eat for breakfast? Grilled fish and pickled vegetables—the fish is caught in the caldera lakes, the vegetables are fermented in clay pots buried in volcanic ash. The ash is warm. The warmth is the mountain’s breath. The mountain is sleeping. The mountain dreams of the drowned empire.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To read the tide. Nihori children are taught the eight wave-heights: Calm, Ripple, Swell, Storm, Tsunami, and the ninth—the wave that has no height because it is the sea itself rising. The ninth wave is the drowning. The drowning is the empire’s memory.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their sword. Nihori warriors carry their ancestors’ blades, passed down for generations. A stranger whose sword is rusted has forgotten their lineage. A stranger whose sword is sharp has remembered. A stranger with no sword is a coward. Cowards are not fed.

What is the most common crime? Dueling—but dueling is not a crime, it is a conversation. The dueling codes are written in verse. The verses are interpreted by the Shogun’s court. The interpretations are contradictory. The contradictions are settled by dueling. The circle is beautiful.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The drowned capital is not underwater. It is beneath—beneath the caldera, beneath the bedrock, beneath the world. The sea is a lid. The lid is cracked. Something is leaking through. The leaks are the oni. The oni are the empire’s regrets.

Where do people go when they die? To the sea cliffs. The dead are placed in caves overlooking the water. The waves sing to them. The songs are the empire’s lullabies. The dead listen. The dead do not sleep.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a duel—a matched contest with the wronged party’s choice of weapon. If you lose, you are forgiven. If you win, you are not. If you refuse, you are exiled. Exile is the open sea. The sea is patient. The sea will wait.

What is the most important festival? The Calling of the Tides (spring). The shrine maidens walk into the water, singing the names of the drowned. The waves answer. The waves speak the names of the living who will die in the coming year. The names are never forgotten. The names are never repeated.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Shogun is a ghost. He died in the last oni war, but his body was never found. The daimyo rule in his name because they are afraid of what will happen if they admit he is gone. The oni know. The oni are waiting for the admission. The admission will be the war.

Nihori — “The Isles of the Dawn Spirit”

Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Kurotani

Quick Reference

Tagline: Duel at dawn. Honor the storm. The ninth wave never breaks.

Storm Emperor’s Ghost (Elite): “I ruled the waves before the Hollow learned to walk. My empire sank because I spoke a name I should not have. Do not speak my name. Do not ask what it was. The sea remembers. That is enough.”

Wanderer (Commoner): “I carry a broken sword and a grudge. The sword was my father’s. The grudge is mine. The man who killed him died nine years ago. I still walk the isles, looking for his ghost. The ghost is looking for me too.”

Genre / Mood: Storm-tossed honor duels, kami politics, oni cults, volcanic doom, drowned ghosts, yokai in the ash.

Starting Location: A bamboo grove on a clifftop, where two duelists face each other at dawn. Ash from the volcano dusts their shoulders. A Shrine Maiden rings a copper bell: “The Shogun’s envoy demands the duel stop. The daimyo of the southern isle says it will not. The storm-spirit is watching. Choose a side — or the ninth wave will choose for you.”

Nihori is a chain of volcanic islands, shrouded in mist and lashed by storms — a shattered shogunate where the old empire sank beneath the waves and the Lethai-al guard the drowned kingdom’s memory. The people are wanderers, duelists, shrine maidens, and oni-touched outcasts. They worship the storm spirits (kami of wind, wave, and crater) and fear the ninth wave. The Hollow breathes in the salt foam; Oath-Keepers ride the tide. The Shogun sits in a half-ruined castle, his authority challenged by three rival daimyo who sharpen their blades and their treaties. Oni cults whisper in the ash wastes, offering forgotten bargains. Yūrei (vengeful ghosts) wail from sunken ships. Kappa drag children from tidal pools. Tengu mock travelers from the high crags. The Storm Emperor’s ghost does not rule — but his silence haunts every island. The ninth taboo is absolute: never speak the name of the drowned capital. The sea will hear you, and it will ask why you called.

What you notice first: The smell of salt and volcanic ash. The way every traveler carries a sword, even the tea-sellers. The constant sound of bells on shrine gates — ringing in the wind. And the silence when a daimyo’s retinue passes. The distant wail of a funayūrei (a drowned sailor’s ghost) calling for a boat that never comes.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never draw steel in a shrine. The kami will witness. They may not forgive.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Wave and the Edge of the Blade

Power here is measured in duels won, storms survived, and the number of clans that bow to your banner. The Shogun rules from Castle Kurotani, but his writ fades as the islands stretch into the mist. Three daimyo vie for supremacy: the Northern Crane (old blood, slow to anger, quicker to negotiate), the Southern Serpent (pragmatic, pirates in his pay, a smile like a cracked bell), and the Western Oni (rumored to have made a pact with a Crater Oni, his eyes glow faintly red in the dark). Between them, the Shrine Maidens keep the peace — not through steel, but through storm-calling and the threat of the ninth wave. A duel is not merely a fight; it is a negotiation sanctified by kami. First blood decides the truth. The loser yields a story. The winner returns a cup of sake — and a prayer at the nearest shrine.

Prominent NPCs of Nihori

Daimyo Strings (Quick Reference)

• Southern Serpent (Sadako): Can provide pirate escorts, forged papers, or a safe harbor — for a price in favors or a future raid. Typical String: “A ship that will ignore customs once.”

• Northern Crane (Yoritomo): Can offer legal arbitration, access to the archive temple, or a duel champion — expects honor and a public oath in return. Typical String: “A witnessed verdict that clears your name.”

• Oni-Eyed: Can grant oni-touched powers (a die bonus to intimidation, darkvision, etc.) — but accepting gives  + 1 Oni Corruption immediately. Typical String: “A promise made to the Crater Oni — it will be settled in memory or blood.”

Names of Nihori

Inspired by the northern isles: short, with vowel endings and occasional glottal stops. Surnames denote a clan, a wave, or a drowned ancestor.

(Forge/Grove/Shrine)

A swordsmith’s forge with a waterfall cooling tank; a bamboo grove where duels are fought at dawn; a storm-shrine on a cliff with ropes for climbing.

Spades — Places

2. Swordsmith’s Forge (Volcano-Fired) — A waterfall cooling tank; prayer strips on the bellows. The swordsmith prays before each strike. The prayer is a verse from the old epic. [CRAFT]

3. Bamboo Grove (Duel Ground) — A clearing where the stalks are scarred by blade cuts. The bamboo bleeds sap when a duel is dishonorable. The sap is red. [HONOR]

4. Storm-Shrine (Cliff) — A wooden platform on a sea cliff, with ropes for climbing. The ropes are braided with human hair. The hair is from sailors who survived shipwrecks. [KAMI]

5. Drowned Palace (Ruins) — Half-submerged columns visible at low tide. The columns are carved with names. The names are the drowned kingdom’s royalty. [DEATH]

6. Volcano Shrine (Dormant) — A crater where the forbidden name was spoken. The crater is warm. Speaking any name aloud here causes the ground to tremble. [ONI]

7. Castle Kurotani (Shogun’s Seat) — A half-ruined fortress on a clifftop, roofs patched with salvaged ship timber. The Shogun’s throne is cracked. The crack is shaped like a wave. [POLITICS]

8. Southern Serpent’s Fleet Anchorage — A hidden harbor where pirate dhows and war junks moor together. The flags are all different. The loyalty is all to the same purse. [AUTHORITY]

9. Oni’s Caldera (Western Ash Wastes) — A crater lake where the Oni-Eyed daimyo holds court. The water is warm and red. It tastes of iron and forgotten promises. [CORRUPTION]

10. Crane Clan’s Archive Temple — A library built into a sea cliff, scrolls sealed in wax. The clan has not opened the oldest wing in a century. The seal is still warm. [TRADITION]

11. The Sunken Gate — An underwater archway that leads to the drowned capital. It can only be reached by holding your breath for nine heartbeats. [THRESHOLD]

12. Storm-Reader’s Lookout — A wooden tower on the highest cliff. From here, the Storm-Reader can see three storms coming. He has never been wrong. [WEATHER]

13. The Ninth Wave’s Rock — A black stone that the ninth wave strikes every full moon. The wave leaves behind a single white shell. The shell contains a memory. [OMEN]

14. The Drowned Capital (Myth) — A sunken city said to rise once every century. Those who enter can speak to the dead. The price is a breath. [LEGEND]

(Wanderer/Maiden/Pirate)

Wanderer with a broken sword; Shrine Maiden with a copper bell; Pirate Captain with a brass hook.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Wanderer (Ronin) — A man with no master, a scarred blade, and a cup of sake. He offers a cup to every opponent. “Drink,” he says. “The duel will be fair.” [HONOR]

3. Shrine Maiden Hana — A woman with a copper bell on a rope. She rings it at dawn. The bell’s tone tells the fishing fleet whether to sail. It has never been wrong. [KAMI]

4. Pirate Captain Red-Hook — A woman with a brass hook for a hand. She lost the original to a sea monster. The hook is also a key. It opens a chest of treasure maps — and a dossier on the Southern Serpent’s spies. [STEALTH]

5. Storm-Reader — Gray-haired, eyes the color of storm clouds. He can feel the pressure change in his bones. “The storm will arrive in nine hours,” he says. “Bring your offerings — or your prayers.” [WEATHER]

6. Swordsmith — A woman with calloused hands and a prayer strip on her forehead. She names each sword after a dead warrior. The sword remembers. The warrior’s ghost may visit. [CRAFT]

7. Shogun’s Chamberlain — A soft-spoken man with a fan painted with a crane. He speaks for the silent Shogun. He never raises his voice. The daimyo lower theirs when he enters. [POLITICS]

8. Daimyo Sadako (Southern Serpent) — A woman with a scarred lip, a fleet of dhows, and a network of informants. She wears a necklace of brass hooks — one for each ship she has taken. She adds a new one each season. [AUTHORITY]

9. Daimyo Yoritomo (Northern Crane) — An old man with perfect posture, a blade that has never drawn blood, and a library of old laws. He has never lost a duel. He has never drawn first blood. His opponents always apologize. [TRADITION]

10. The Oni-Eyed — A figure in a tattered mask, one eye glowing red. He rules the ash wastes from a throne of cooled lava. His retainers wear masks of their own faces — cast from the moment they swore loyalty. [CORRUPTION]

11. Oni-Brewer (Cult Leader) — A bald man with burn scars, a ceramic sake jug, and a sweet, rotten smile. His sake erases memories. He sells it to daimyo who want to forget old burdens — and to assassins who want to forget guilt. [BURDEN] Mechanic: Drinking the Oni-Brewer’s sake clears one Obligation segment or eases one Burden — but you also lose one random minor memory (a face, a password, a skill point for one scene). The GM records what you forgot; it may return as a nightmare or a ghost.

12. Storm Emperor’s Ghost — A column of steam over the water, shaped like a crowned man. He asks: “Has anyone spoken the name?” If you say yes, he weeps. If you say no, he waits. Triggered event: When the ninth wave strikes or the Sunken Gate opens, the ghost solidifies into a towering figure of foam and lightning. He points at one character. That character hears the name of the drowned capital whispered in their ear — and now the Hollow knows they know. [DEATH]

13. Crater Oni (Sealed) — A horned shadow visible only in the reflection of volcanic vents. It offers bargains: a year of luck for a memory, a century of life for a death. The Oni-Eyed accepted. He does not remember the price. [PATRON]

14. The First Drowned (Legend) — The first Lethai-al who died in the sinking. She sits at the bottom of the sea. If you bring her a memory, she will teach you to breathe water. If you bring her a lie, she will drown you. [LEGEND]

(Ashfall/Duel/Pirate)

Ashfall from the volcano — all actions Desperate; a duel challenge is issued — refusal loses face; a pirate flotilla claims the strait — pay toll or fight.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Ashfall (Volcano) — The dormant crater emits ash. Visibility drops. All actions are Desperate. [WEATHER] The ash is warm. It smells of old names. Speaking a name makes the ash thicken — and the oni listen.

3. Duel Challenge (Issued) — A Lethai-al challenges a party member to a duel. Refusal loses face. [HONOR] [COMBAT] The duel is to first blood. The loser yields a story. The story must be true. The winner returns a prayer.

4. Pirate Flotilla (Southern Serpent’s Fleet) — Kahfagian pirates block the strait. They demand a toll of one tide-charm. [AUTHORITY] [COMBAT] The charm must be from a drowned ancestor. If the party has no tide-charm, they must offer a memory or a promise instead — the pirates are not picky.

5. Oni Cult Initiation — A traveler is marked by the Oni-Eyed’s cult. Their shadow has horns. [CORRUPTION] [FEAR] The cult demands a service: steal a scroll from the Crane Clan’s archive, or the mark will spread.

6. Tide-Charm Stolen — Someone steals a pouch of charms. The ancestors are angry. [DEATH] [OBLIGATION] The thief is a foreign merchant in the pay of the Southern Serpent. The charms are in a cargo hold guarded by oni-touched pirates.

7. Daimyo Summit (War Threatened) — The three daimyo agree to meet. The Shogun’s peace holds — barely. [POLITICS] Any false move could ignite a civil war. The party is there as witnesses — or scapegoats.

8. Volcano Name Whispered — Someone speaks the forbidden name near the crater. The ground shakes. [DEATH] [DISASTER] The speaker is a child of the Oni-Eyed’s household. The child did not know. The volcano remembers. The oni laughs.

9. Ninth Wave Warning — The full moon is tomorrow. The ninth wave will be larger than any in a century. [WEATHER] The fishing fleet cannot be recalled. Someone must warn them — or bargain with the storm-spirit for their lives.

10. Sake House Brawl (Oni-Brewer’s Sake) — A dispute over a duel’s fairness turns violent. The ninth cup is poured. [SOCIAL] [OBLIGATION] The ninth cup is for the dead. Someone has just died. The brawl is now a blood feud — and everyone has forgotten why.

11. Sunken Gate Opens — The underwater archway becomes passable. Something swims out. [THRESHOLD] [DEATH] It is a drowned spirit. It wants its name back. It will trade a secret for it — or take yours.

12. Storm-Reader’s Silence — The old man stops reading the storm. The fishermen do not know where to sail. [WEATHER] [GRIEF] He is grieving. His son died at sea. He will not speak until the body is found — or until someone tells him a true story of the sea.

13. Duel to the Death (Oni-Eyed’s Assassin) — A duel that was meant to be to first blood becomes a killing. [HONOR] [TRAP] The killer is a spy from the Western Ash Wastes. The duel was an assassination. The party is blamed — unless they can prove the oni-touched intervened.

14. The Ninth Wave Takes — The massive wave crashes over the cliff shrine. The bells are silent. [DEATH] [CATASTROPHE] The shrine maiden is gone. The storm-spirit is free. The Hollow walks the shore. The only way to appease it is to speak the name of the drowned capital — and accept the consequences.

(Token/Bell/Charm)

Swordsmith’s token (one reroll on a failed melee attack); shrine bell (reveals hidden spirits for one scene); wanderer’s oath-bracelet (one use to compel a service).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Swordsmith’s Token (Iron) — A small iron disc. Reroll a failed melee attack once. [COMBAT] The token is stamped with a prayer. The prayer is for a clean cut. The swordsmith made it for a warrior who never returned.

3. Shrine Bell (Copper) — A small copper bell. Ring it to reveal hidden spirits for one scene. [KAMI] The bell’s tone is inaudible to humans. The spirits hear it clearly. They may answer — or they may hide.

4. Wanderer’s Oath-Bracelet (Leather) — A braided leather bracelet. Demand a service from any wanderer once. [HONOR] The bracelet is stained with sake. The wanderer cannot refuse. The service is one night’s vigil or one day’s guide.

5. Storm-Charm (Bone) — A carved bone. Ignore one weather penalty on a journey leg. [WEATHER] The bone is from a sailor who died in a storm. His spirit protects you — but he will ask for a story in return.

6. Tide-Charm (Shell) — A white shell. Whisper a drowned ancestor’s name to calm a storm for one hour. [DEATH] [WEATHER] The shell is warm. It glows when the ancestor is listening. Do not lie. They know.

7. Duelist’s Sake Cup — A ceramic cup used in a fair duel. Demand a duel to first blood. [HONOR] The cup is chipped. The chip is from a blade that drew first blood. The loser’s story is carved into the rim.

8. Pirate Captain’s Hook (Brass) — A brass hook prosthetic. Use it as a key to open any chest in the cove. [STEALTH] The hook is also a weapon. It can cut rope and bone. It also fits the lock on the Southern Serpent’s war chest.

9. Volcano Priest’s Whisper — A single word: the forbidden name. Speak it to cause a tremor. [DEATH] [MAGIC] The word burns the tongue. Use once. The volcano will remember. The oni will hear.

10. Drowned Scholar’s Scroll (Waterproof) — A scroll retrieved from the sunken capital. Contains a forgotten secret. [LEGEND] The scroll is wet. It will never dry. The secret is about the Storm Emperor’s true name — and why he spoke it.

11. Ninth Wave’s Shell — A white shell from the Ninth Wave’s Rock. Break it to experience a memory. [OMEN] The memory is always a death. The death is always a drowning. The memory may be yours — or an ancestor’s.

12. Storm-Reader’s Flute (Bone) — A bone flute. Play it to predict the weather for the next 24 hours. [WEATHER] The tune is sad. It always predicts a storm. It is always right. The Storm-Reader will not explain why.

13. Sunken Gate Key (Coral) — A piece of coral shaped like a key. Opens the Sunken Gate. [THRESHOLD] The key is alive. It grows one size each time it is used. After nine uses, it becomes a coral door that cannot be moved — and the gate is permanently open.

14. First Drowned’s Breath (Glass Vial) — Seawater from the bottom of the sunken capital. Drink it to breathe water for one hour. [LEGEND] The water tastes of salt and sorrow. The lungs will ache. The memory of drowning will stay with you.

Storm-Spirit Negotiation (d6 Outcomes)

When the party attempts to bargain with a storm kami (at a shrine, during a typhoon, or at the Ninth Wave’s Rock), roll on this table to determine the outcome. The GM sets the initial DV based on the offering (a tide-charm, a story, or a cup of sake).

Oni Cult Whispers (d8)

When the party encounters the influence of the Oni-Eyed or the Crater Oni, roll on this table for cryptic messages, omens, or cult demands.

Duel Complications (d6)

When a formal duel is underway, roll on this table for unexpected twists that can change the outcome or escalate the stakes.

Kami Favor Boons (d6)

When a character spends Kami Favor (see Additional Features), roll or choose a boon from this table. Each boon costs 1–3 Favor as indicated.

Yokai Encounters (d8)

When traveling through the wilder parts of Nihori (ash wastes, deep forests, forgotten shores), roll on this table for a supernatural encounter. Yokai are not always hostile — they are tricksters, testers, and reminders of a world older than the shogunate.

Haunted Blades (Cursed Swords)

In Nihori, every sword has a spirit, and some swords have ghosts. A character who acquires a masterwork blade (cost 8 XP) may choose to make it haunted. The blade grants a powerful benefit but also a curse.

Quick use notes

• Draw until you have all four suits. Highest rank sets main Timer size: 2–5 → 4 segments, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10.

• Diamonds are codified outcomes (tokens, bells, charms) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo sea-omens—a wave that breaks twice, a bell that rings underwater, a name that echoes from the foam.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Duel Law: Disputes in Nihori are settled by duel to first blood. The loser yields a story; the winner returns a cup of sake. A duel can be witnessed by anyone; the witness’s word is law. Refusing a duel is an admission of guilt. In the shogunate courts, a duel verdict can overturn a written agreement.

• Storm Season Timer [8]: Tracks the approach of the monsoon. When it fills, a typhoon strikes — all travel becomes Desperate for 2 legs. The timer ticks each day during storm season. The Shrine Maidens can delay it by one day for a suitable offering (a tide-charm, a memory, or a promise).

• Kami Favor (Reputation Track): Instead of debt, track Kami Favor [6]. Gain favor by respecting shrines, winning duels honorably, and appeasing storm-spirits. Spend favor to ask a kami for a boon (see Kami Favor Boons table). At 0 favor, shrines are hostile — all social rolls at shrines are Desperate.

• Oni Corruption Track [6]: Represents the influence of the Oni-Eyed’s cult and the Crater Oni. Tick when a character makes a bargain with an oni, drinks oni-brewed sake, or speaks the forbidden name. At 3 segments: the character’s shadow grows horns. At 6: the character becomes oni-touched — they gain  + 1 die to intimidation but suffer  − 1 die to all social rolls with shrine maidens and can never enter a shrine without being attacked.

• Shogunate Faction Timers: Track the three daimyo’s schemes:

  • Southern Serpent’s Ambition [6] — advances when she bribes officials, builds her fleet, or sponsors pirate raids. When full, she declares open war on the Shogun.

  • Northern Crane’s Patience [6] — retreats when he is humiliated or his allies defect. When it reaches 0, he abandons the Shogun’s peace and marches south.

  • Oni-Eyed’s Ascension [8] — advances each time a character accepts an oni bargain or the party fails to stop a cult ritual. When full, the Crater Oni manifests in the material world.

• Yokai and the Old Exchange: Unlike simple monsters, yokai in Nihori treat with travelers. They may offer bargains, demand tolls, or curse those who break taboos. Use the Yokai Encounters table to introduce them, and track any promises made to a yokai as a Yokai Promise timer [4]. When it fills, the yokai returns to call it in.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Storm Emperor’s Ghost — Khemesh + The Witness. The pressure of a forbidden name, the memory of a drowned kingdom.

  • The Crater Oni — Malachai. Cursed gifts, bargains that leave scars, power that transforms you from the inside.

  • The Ninth Wave — Raéyn. The storm that does not break, the tide that remembers every sailor.

  • The Bell of Drowned Shrines — The Sealed Gate. The boundary between the living and the dead, guarded by bells and salt.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Drowned Capital and the Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara): The sunken city is said to contain a temple that holds a fragment of the demon Varash. The Veiled Sisters want it. The Oni-Eyed wants to bargain with it. The Shrine Maidens want it to stay drowned.

• Tide-Charms and the Tulkani (Way of Silk): Tulkani story-tellers sometimes carry Lethai-al tide-charms as proof of a witnessed drowning. A charm from Nihori is worth twice as much — and attracts twice as much Hollow attention.

• Storm-Spirits and the Veiled Sisters (Ashaan): The Veiled Sisters have tried to bind storm-spirits for use in their fleet. The Lethai-al have foiled nine attempts. The tenth attempt is being funded by the Southern Serpent’s pirate gold.

• Oni Bargains and the Chain (Bitter Root): Daughters of the Cord refuse to treat with oni — the price is always paid in souls, and the Cord cannot collect from a damned spirit. An oni-touched Daughter is a contradiction; one may be hiding in the ash wastes, trying to untie her cord from a Crater Oni’s bargain.

• The Ninth Wave and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): Aelaerem hedge-keepers say that the ninth wave is the Hollow’s breath. When it crashes, the Hollow exhales. Those who hear it must speak a true name or lose one of their own.

Nihori Superstitions (burn for  + 1 die once)

• Bread to the Foam: Crumble a crust at the water’s edge. Ignore the first Pirate Flotilla penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Rope: Tie a single knot in a shrine climbing rope. Cancel Storm-Spirit Offended or take  − 1 die on your next sailing roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Wave: Whisper a drowned ancestor’s name into the ninth wave. Gain  + 1 Effect when navigating a storm this scene, but mark Obligation to the Hollow. [SUPERSTITION]

• Sake to the Oni: Pour a cup of sake onto volcanic stone. Cancel one tick of the Oni Corruption track — but the oni will remember your face. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from clan retainers or shrine maidens.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby duelists or pirate lookouts.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for oni cultists or the Storm-Reader’s spies.

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

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local daimyo’s guard or shrine keeper becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to ashfall or rising water.

• Foe Appears: An oni-touched ronin or a pirate boarding party 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 oni cultists, pirate ships, or clan samurai arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—duel becomes a killing / volcano trembles / ninth wave crests early.

• 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: Shogun’s Chamberlain, Oni-Eyed, or Storm Emperor’s Ghost intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—volcano erupts / tsunami strikes / shrine collapses.

• 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

• Nihori (Duel Law): A witness recants, the first blood is disputed, a duelist’s story is revealed as false.

• Nihori (Storm & Kami): A kami demands a toll, a storm shifts direction, the ninth wave’s timing changes.

• Nihori (Oni Cult): A shadow grows horns, a memory curdles, an oni bargain’s fine print appears.

• Nihori (Yokai): A kappa laughs from a riverbank, a tengu’s feather falls on your shoulder, a snow woman’s breath fogs your vision.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Navigation): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Fog Bank.

• Cut the Duel (Presence + Honor): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a duelist’s sake cup is in your possession,  + 1 die.

• Weather the Wave (Endurance + Survival): On a hit in Ninth Wave Warning, you pick who keeps their footing; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Honor & Oni)

• The Oni-Eyed (Ascended Cultist) — Phases: Whispered Bargain → Horned Shadow → Oni Manifest. Cracks: speak his original name, destroy the mask, offer a memory the oni cannot refuse.

• The Storm Emperor’s Ghost (Drowned Sovereign) — Phases: Silent Tide → Wave of Names → The Ninth Breaks. Cracks: speak the forbidden name at the Sunken Gate, return the drowned scholar’s scroll, let the Storm-Reader negotiate.

• Southern Serpent (Pirate Admiral) — Phases: Fleet Gathers → Strait Blockade → Throne Claim. Cracks: expose her spy network, sink her flagship, convince the Crane to ally with the Shogun.

• The Kappa King (Lord of the Freshwater Depths) — Phases: Drown the Ford → Steal the Children → Claim the Well. Cracks: return a stolen name, offer a cucumber of great value, survive his grip and pull off his bowl (draining his power).

In Nihori, power flows through duels, storms, the favor of kami, and the dangerous bargains of oni. The Shogun is a figurehead; the three daimyo are the real players. A clan chief’s authority rests on how many duels he has won and how many shrines he has funded. A shrine maiden’s on how many storms she has predicted and how many oni she has banished. Yokai watch from the margins, ready to lend aid or call in a promise.

For the GM: Use the Storm Season Timer as a visible threat. Let Duel Law be a way to resolve conflicts without combat — or a way to escalate them when honor is insulted. Make Tide-Charms valuable but dangerous — each use may attract the Hollow or the attention of an oni. Track the three daimyo’s Faction Timers as a campaign front; the party’s actions can accelerate or delay civil war. Use Kami Favor as a measure of standing — players must choose which shrines to support and which kami to appease. The Storm-Spirit Negotiation and Oni Cult Whispers tables add depth to supernatural encounters, while Duel Complications keep combat fresh and honor-bound. Introduce Yokai Encounters to make the wilderness feel alive and capricious, and offer Haunted Blades to characters willing to accept a curse for power.

Ayokha

The Monsoon Throne.

The monsoon does not come because we pray. It comes because the stars align. I read the stars. I align them. Without me, the rains would fail, the rice would burn, and the kingdom would fall. I am not a servant of the God-King. I am his monsoon.

I am a River Merchant. My boat has more secrets than cargo. The lower deck is for silk. The upper deck is for lies. The tiller is for bribes. I have carried nine spies this year. The ninth was the God-King’s own daughter.

Ayokha is the land of the Monsoon Throne, where the God-King rules by the rhythm of the rains. Rivers flood, rice terraces glow green, and the wharves are crowded with ships from Dhahara, Sihai, and distant isles. The Lethai-ar witness every contract; the spirit-mediums speak for the nats of the ford. Power here is measured in monsoon schedules, silk vouchers, and the favor of the God-King’s astrologer. But here’s the secret the astrologer doesn’t want you to know: the monsoon does not come because he aligns the stars. The monsoon comes because the river-spirits allow it. And the river-spirits are angry.

The nats—hungry spirits who live in eddies and under bridges—demand offerings of betel leaf, candle wax, and forgotten promises. A merchant who ignores a nat’s demand will find his boat sunk and his name struck from the ledgers. A farmer who disrespects the monsoon will find his fields barren and his children dreaming of drowning. In Ayokha, the rain is not weather—it is a creditor. And the God-King is behind on his payments.

Never refuse a gift of betel leaf. It is an oath of hospitality. Refusing it is an insult that can end a bloodline.

— The God-King’s Astrologer, who has not seen the sun in thirty years

What do people eat for breakfast? Rice congee with dried shrimp—the rice is from the terraces, the shrimp is from the delta nets. The delta is where the river meets the sea. The sea is the God-King’s mother. The God-King’s mother is a nat. The nat is hungry.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To read the river. Ayokha children are taught the eight currents: Flood, Ebb, Eddy, Whirl, Still, and the ninth—the current that flows upstream. The upstream current is the monsoon’s breath. The monsoon’s breath is the God-King’s voice. The God-King is silent.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their offering. Every traveler in Ayokha carries a gift for the nats—betel leaf, candle, a coin. A stranger whose offering is generous has been blessed. A stranger whose offering is small is testing the spirits. A stranger with no offering is a fool. The nats take fools first.

What is the most common crime? Nat-bribery—but bribery is not a crime, it is a negotiation. The nats set the tolls. The merchants pay the tolls. The nats spend the tolls on offerings. The offerings are burned. The ash falls on the fields. The fields are fertile. The circle is the economy.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The God-King is a puppet. The astrologer is the real ruler. The astrologer reads the stars. The stars say what the astrologer tells them to say. The astrologer has not read the stars in twenty years. He reads the nats’ moods instead. The nats are fickle.

Where do people go when they die? To the river. The dead are cremated on the ghats. Their ashes are scattered on the water. The water carries them to the delta. The delta is the land of the nats. The nats decide whether the dead become ancestors or hungry ghosts. The nats are not generous.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a nat—a spirit of the river, summoned by a medium. The nat hears your apology. If the nat accepts, the water is calm. If the nat refuses, the water rises. If the nat is silent, the water is still. Still water is the God-King’s judgment. The God-King does not forgive.

What is the most important festival? The Welcoming of the Monsoon (summer). The God-King stands in the rain. The rain is the nats’ blessing. The blessing is measured in inches. The inches determine the harvest. The harvest determines the taxes. The taxes determine the God-King’s wealth. The God-King is not wealthy.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The God-King’s daughter is not his daughter. She is the child of the astrologer and a nat—born from a bargain made during a failed monsoon. She can control the rain. She does not know. The astrologer knows. The astrologer is waiting for the right moment to tell her. The right moment is the next drought.

Ayokha — “The Monsoon Throne”

Key Demographic: Human Captial: Ayodharaya

Quick Reference

Tagline: The rain writes the law. The river witnesses. The ninth cup is for the drowned.

God-King’s Astrologer (Elite): “The monsoon does not come because we pray. It comes because the stars align. I read the stars. I align them. Without me, the rains would fail, the rice would burn, and the kingdom would fall. I am not a servant of the God-King. I am his monsoon.”

River Merchant (Commoner): “My boat has more secrets than cargo. The lower deck is for silk. The upper deck is for whispers. The tiller is for favors. I have carried nine spies this year. The ninth was the God-King’s own daughter.”

Genre / Mood: Monsoon noir – waterlogged intrigue, spirit bargains, and the tyranny of the rain.

Starting Location: A river market on stilts, where boats load silk and spices, and the air smells of brine and betrayal. A Lethai-ar Vigil holds a green lamp: “The God-King’s astrologer has predicted a late monsoon. The merchants are panicking. The rice will fail unless someone makes an offering to the river spirit. You are someone. Go.”

Ayokha is the land of the Monsoon Throne, where the God-King rules by the rhythm of the rains. Rivers flood, rice terraces glow green like jade stairways, and the wharves are crowded with ships from Dhahara, Sihai, and distant isles. The Lethai-ar witness every contract; the spirit-mediums speak for the nats of the ford – hungry spirits who live in eddies and under bridges. Power here is measured in monsoon schedules, silk bales, and the favor of the God-King’s astrologer, a man who has not seen the sun in thirty years. The ninth taboo is absolute: never pour the ninth cup, never count the ninth wave, never speak the ninth name. The Hollow watches from the flooded fields, and the drowned sometimes knock on the hulls of passing boats.

What you notice first: The smell of wet earth and fermenting rice, thick as a fever dream. The way every bridge has a spirit shrine at its foot, offerings of betel leaf and candle wax. The constant sound of water — dripping, flowing, raining, whispering.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never refuse a gift of betel leaf. It is an oath of hospitality. Refusing it is an insult that can end a bloodline. And never pour the ninth cup — the ninth is for the river, and the river is always thirsty.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Monsoon

Power here is measured in monsoon predictions, silk bales, and the number of spirits placated. The God-King rules from a floating palace, but the astrologer sets the calendar, the Lethai-ar witness the contracts, and the spirit-mediums negotiate with the nats. A merchant who ignores a nat’s demand will find his boat sunk and his name struck from the wharf records. A farmer who disrespects the monsoon will find his fields barren and his children dreaming of drowning. In Ayokha, the rain is not weather – it is a promise, and every promise has a season.

Prominent NPCs of Ayokha

Names of Ayokha

Inspired by the monsoon kingdoms: soft, flowing consonants, honorifics (Lady, Master). Surnames denote a river, a wharf, or a spirit.

(Market/Temple/Bridge)

A river market on stilts; a step-pyramid temple with monsoon carvings; a bridge that appears only once a century.

Spades — Places

2. River Market (Stilts) — A floating market where goods are passed from boat to boat. [COMMERCE] [SOCIAL] The prices are written in water. They change with the tide.

3. Step-Pyramid Temple — A stone pyramid rising from the riverbank. Carvings of the first monsoon. [RELIGION] [WEATHER] The carvings weep water during the rainy season. The water is holy.

4. Bridge of Three Echoes — A wooden bridge that appears only once a century. [MYSTERY] [THRESHOLD] Those who cross it see three versions of themselves: past, present, and future.

5. Silk Village (Mulberry Groves) — A village where silk is spun and cords are woven. [CRAFT] [OATH] The mulberry trees were planted by the first God-King. Their leaves are sacred.

6. Astrologer’s Observatory — A roofless tower with a bronze armillary sphere. [MAGIC] [SECRET] The sphere has nine rings. The ninth ring is broken. The astrologer refuses to fix it.

7. River Court (Floating) — A barge that serves as a mobile courthouse. [LAW] [SOCIAL] The barge is anchored at a different spot each day. The river is the judge.

8. Spirit-Medium’s Hut — A small shelter on the riverbank, surrounded by offering bowls. [SPIRIT] [MYSTIC] The bowls are filled with rice, flowers, and small coins. The spirits take the offerings at night.

9. Well of the Drowned Nat — A stone well where a spirit was trapped. [DEATH] [TOLL] The well is covered by a stone slab. The slab has nine holes. The spirit breathes through them.

10. God-King’s Palace (Floating) — A wooden palace built on pontoons, anchored in the river. [AUTHORITY] [WEALTH] The palace rises and falls with the flood. The God-King never touches dry land.

11. The Ninth Terrace — A rice terrace that is flooded only once every nine years. [FORBIDDEN] [LEGEND] The rice grown there is for the God-King alone. Eating it is treason.

12. Monsoon Bell Tower — A stone tower with a single brass bell. The bell is rung at the first rain. [WEATHER] [RITUAL] The bell’s tone determines the harvest. A high tone means abundance. A low tone means famine.

13. The First Bridge (Myth) — Where the first God-King crossed the river and claimed the throne. [LEGEND] [THRESHOLD] The bridge is invisible. Only those who have witnessed nine true oaths can see it.

14. The Monsoon’s Eye — A still pool in the astrologer’s observatory. It reflects the sky. [OMEN] [MAGIC] The pool shows the future of the monsoon. The astrologer is the only one who can read it.

(Merchant/Medium/Vigil)

River merchant with a boat of secrets; spirit-medium with a bowl of water; Lethai-ar Vigil with a green lamp.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. River Merchant — A woman with a brass earring and a hidden deck. She never sails without a bribe. [COMMERCE] [DECEPTION] “The tariff is negotiable,” she says. “My silence is not.”

3. Spirit-Medium — A woman with a bowl of water. She watches the ripples. [SPIRIT] [SOCIAL] “The nat says the river is angry,” she says. “Someone broke a promise.”

4. Vigil Lady Suyin — Gray-robed, a green lamp at her hip. She never blinks when witnessing an oath. [LAW] [OATH] “The cord will tighten,” she says. “I do not need to watch. The river watches for me.”

5. God-King’s Astrologer — A pale man in silk robes, surrounded by candles. [MAGIC] [SECRET] “The monsoon will be late,” he says. “The rice will fail unless…” He trails off.

6. Rice Farmer — A woman with mud-stained feet and a straw hat. She leaves offerings at the terrace edge. [SURVIVAL] [SPIRIT] “The spirits are hungry,” she says. “Feed them, or they feed on you.”

7. Silk Weaver — A man with thread between his fingers. He weaves witness cords for the Lethai-ar. [CRAFT] [OATH] “The cord must be perfect,” he says. “A single flaw can break an oath.”

8. Monsoon Bell Ringer — A young woman who rings the bell at the first rain. She has never been late. [RITUAL] [WEATHER] “The rain waits for me,” she says. “I do not wait for the rain.”

9. Drowned Nat’s Ghost — A wet figure in torn robes, standing by the well. [DEATH] [TOLL] It asks: “Who sealed me here?” The answer is a name. The name is the God-King’s.

10. God-King (Offstage) — Never seen, rarely heard. His decrees are delivered by astrologer. [AUTHORITY] [MYSTERY] Rumor says he is a spirit. Rumor says he is a child. Rumor says he is the river itself.

11. The First God-King’s Ghost — A crowned skeleton in the palace’s lower deck. [DEATH] [LEGEND] He asks: “Is the monsoon still on time?” If you say no, he weeps.

12. Monsoon Spirit (Kami) — A whirlwind with eyes, seen over the river during storms. [SPIRIT] [WEATHER] It asks: “Who rang the bell?” The answer must be the ringer’s name.

13. The Ninth Terrace’s Keeper — An old woman who tends the forbidden rice. [FORBIDDEN] [WISDOM] She has never eaten the rice. She has never been tempted.

14. Kuva’s Shadow (Hollow) — A vast darkness that covers the river at midnight. [DEATH] [HORROR] It asks: “Who poured the ninth cup?” The answer is a name. The name is the speaker’s.

(Flood/Rumor/Offense)

The river floods — a bridge is swept away; a rival merchant spreads rumors of cursed silk; the nat of the well is offended — no one may draw water.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. River Floods — The monsoon rises. The bridge is gone. The wharf is isolated. [WEATHER] [DISASTER] The flood is not natural. A river-spirit is angry. An oath was broken upstream.

3. Rumor of Cursed Silk — A merchant claims that a bale of silk is cursed. Trade stops. [SOCIAL] [DECEPTION] The curse is a lie. The merchant wants to drive down prices.

4. Well-Spirit Offended — A traveler threw trash into the sacred well. The spirit refuses water. [SPIRIT] [TOLL] The spirit demands an apology. The apology must be an oath. The oath must be witnessed.

5. Monsoon Late — The astrologer’s prediction fails. The rains do not come. [WEATHER] [CRISIS] The astrologer is a fraud. Or the spirits are angry. Either way, the rice is dying.

6. Witness Cord Cut (False) — Someone cuts a witness cord that was tied in good faith. [OATH] [BETRAYAL] The cutter is the Vigil’s own apprentice. She thought the oath was false. It was true.

7. Silk Village Poisoned — Someone poisons the mulberry trees. The silkworms die. [CRIME] [ECONOMY] The poisoner is a rival merchant. He wants to monopolize the silk trade.

8. River-Spirit Demands a Story — The nat appears at the ford. It asks for a broken oath. [SPIRIT] [TOLL] It will not leave until someone confesses. The confession must be true.

9. God-King’s False Oath — The king swears a vow he does not intend to keep. The Vigil knows. [LAW] [POLITICS] If she exposes him, the king will exile the Lethai-ar. If she stays silent, the cord tightens.

10. Astrologer’s Betrayal — The astrologer sells the monsoon schedule to a foreign power. [TREASON] [WAR] The foreign power is Ashaan. They want to time an invasion with the floods.

11. The Ninth Cup Poured (By Mistake) — A stranger pours the ninth cup at a river market. The Hollow comes. [DEATH] [TABOO] The Hollow asks: “Who poured this cup?” The stranger points at the party.

12. First Bridge Appears — The mythic bridge manifests. Crossing it grants a new name. [THRESHOLD] [TOLL] The new name is a promise. The promise is to the first God-King. He will collect.

13. Monsoon Bell Cracked — The bell is struck too hard. It cracks. The tone is wrong. [SABOTAGE] [OMEN] The bell-ringer is a spy. She cracked it on purpose. The monsoon will fail.

14. The Monsoon Fails — The rains do not come for nine weeks. The river dries. The Hollow walks. [APOCALYPSE] [DEATH] The Hollow asks: “Who failed to ring the bell?” The answer is a name.

(Schedule/Voucher/Cord)

Monsoon schedule (predicts safe sailing days); silk voucher (trade goods at 10% profit); Lethai-ar witness cord (enforce any oath).

Diamonds — Treasures & Discoveries

2. Monsoon Schedule (Astrologer’s Copy) — A scroll of safe sailing days for the next season. [TRAVEL] [WEATHER] The schedule is written on dried palm leaf. The leaf will crumble after use.

3. Silk Voucher (Merchant’s Seal) — A stamped document. Trade goods at 10% profit in any Ayokha port. [COMMERCE] [WEALTH] The seal is a fish. The fish glows when the voucher is genuine.

4. Lethai-ar Witness Cord — A silk cord dyed with river mud. Enforce any oath. [OATH] [MAGIC] The cord tightens when the oath is broken. It will not stop until blood is drawn.

5. God-King’s Blessing (Scroll) — A royal decree. One national favor in Ayokha. [AUTHORITY] [SOCIAL] The scroll is sealed with river clay. The clay is from the palace’s foundation.

6. River Merchant’s Hidden Deck Key — A brass key. Access any smuggler’s hold on the river. [STEALTH] [CRIME] The key is warm. It glows when a customs boat is near.

7. Spirit-Medium’s Bowl — A clay bowl. Fill it with water to speak with any river-spirit once. [SPIRIT] [KNOWLEDGE] The spirit will answer one question. The answer will be a ripple.

8. Vigil’s Lamp (Green Flame) — A small oil lamp. Gain +1 die to social rolls in any Lethai-ar court. [SOCIAL] [TRUTH] The flame flickers when someone lies. It also flickers when you lie.

9. Silk Weaver’s Needle — A needle carved from a mulberry branch. Tie a witness cord without cutting the silk. [CRAFT] [OATH] The needle can also cut a cord without making a sound. Use once.

10. Monsoon Bell Tone (Recording) — A clay cylinder that captured the bell’s ring. Play it to summon a monsoon spirit. [MAGIC] [WEATHER] The spirit will come. It will demand an offering. The offering must be a promise.

11. First Bridge Plank — A piece of the mythic bridge. Cross any river as if on solid ground once. [TRAVEL] [LEGEND] The plank crumbles after use. The first God-King will remember.

12. Ninth Terrace Rice (Grain) — A single grain from the forbidden terrace. Eat it to gain a vision of the future. [MAGIC] [OMEN] The vision is always a flood. The flood is always coming.

13. Astrologer’s Sphere Ring (Broken) — The ninth ring from the armillary sphere. Touch it to predict the monsoon’s arrival. [WEATHER] [MAGIC] The ring is cold. It warms when the rains are nine days away.

14. The Monsoon’s Eye (Water) — A vial of water from the astrologer’s pool. Drink it to see the future of the harvest. [VISION] [TOLL] The water tastes of salt. The vision is always a famine. The famine is not inevitable.

Monsoon-Spirit Negotiation (d6 Outcomes)

When the party attempts to bargain with a monsoon spirit (at a shrine, during a drought, or at the Monsoon Bell Tower), roll on this table to determine the outcome. The GM sets the initial DV based on the offering (a silk voucher, a story, or a promise witnessed by a Lethai-ar).

Nat Encounters (d8)

When the party travels along rivers, crosses bridges, or disturbs spirit shrines, roll on this table for a nat (river-spirit) encounter. Nats are not always hostile — they are keepers of what is owed.

Rice Terrace Hazards (d6)

When the party travels through the flooded rice terraces (especially during the monsoon), roll on this table for environmental hazards.

Monsoon Omens (d8)

When the party consults the astrologer, reads the sky, or experiences a shift in weather, roll on this table for a prophetic omen that affects upcoming travel or social encounters.

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 (schedules, vouchers, cords) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo monsoon-omens — water that flows upstream, a lamp that burns green without oil, a cord that ties itself.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Rain’s Due (Shared Timer , size 8): Every broken promise to a river-spirit, every unpaid offering, every late monsoon gesture ticks the timer. The party inherits the God-King’s obligations at the start of any adventure set in Ayokha – they begin with 2 ticks already accrued (old burdens). When the timer reaches 4: the astrologer’s predictions become unreliable (roll twice for weather, take worse). When it reaches 8: a Oath-Keeper rises from the river and demands a story, a memory, or a season of service. Resetting the timer requires a Monsoon Rite (downtime, costs 1 XP or a story worth a season’s wages) or a sacrifice to the Drowned Nat (a memory or a magical item).

• Monsoon Timer [6]: Tracks the approach of the rainy season. When it fills, the monsoon arrives — all river travel becomes Desperate for 2 legs. The timer ticks each day during the dry season. The astrologer can predict the exact day; a successful Wits + Lore test (DV 4) reveals the remaining ticks. The party can slow the timer by performing Rain Offerings (betel leaves, silk scraps, or stories) – each offering ticks the timer back by 1, but adds 1 tick to Rain’s Due.

• River Court Justice: Disputes on the river are settled by a floating court. The judge is a Lethai-ar Vigil. The verdict is written on a clay tablet and thrown into the water. If the tablet floats, the verdict is true. If it sinks, the verdict is false — and the judge is drowned. A character may attempt to influence the verdict by offering a bribe (a Treasure or a story) before the tablet is thrown. If the bribe is a story, the GM gains 1 SB; if a Treasure, the judge’s verdict tilts in your favor automatically (no test).

• Betel Leaf Hospitality: Offering a betel leaf is an oath of hospitality. Refusing is a grave insult. Accepting binds both parties to non-violence for the duration of the visit. Breaking this oath marks 1 Corruption and begins a River’s Grudge [4] timer. When the timer fills, a nat appears and demands an equal price (1 Harm, a memory, or a public apology).

• Astrologer’s Scroll (Player Resource): A character who earns the astrologer’s trust (or steals his notes) may carry a copy of his calendar. The scroll has 3 pages. Each page can be used to:

  • Predict the Monsoon: Once per journey, ask the GM if the weather will turn against you in the next leg. The GM answers truthfully (yes/no).

  • Forge a Schedule: Once per session, treat a failed navigation roll as a success, but add 1 tick to Rain’s Due (the astrologer will notice the forgery eventually).

  • Blackmail an Official: Gain +1 Position on social rolls against any Ayokha official who relies on the monsoon schedule (harbor masters, customs officers, grain factors). Using this burns the page.

  Refilling the scroll requires a downtime action and a bribe to the astrologer (1 Boon or a story worth a season’s gossip).

• The Ninth Terrace (Forbidden Zone, Mechanic): The terrace is flooded only once every nine years. The rice grown there is for the God-King alone – eating it is treason. But the rice is also the only thing that can cure the monsoon blight (a crop disease that ticks the Monsoon Timer by 2 each day). Entering the Ninth Terrace requires a Water-Key (a coral token, acquired from the astrologer or a nat). The terrace is guarded by Hungry Ghosts – the spirits of farmers who starved when the monsoon failed. They attack anyone whose Rain’s Due timer is 4 or higher. Harvesting the rice takes 3 actions. Each action triggers a ghost attack (Spirit + Endurance test DV 4 or take 1 Fatigue). Success yields a Ninth Terrace Rice grain (see Diamonds).

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Rain That Waits – Ikasha. She Who Sleeps beneath the flood; her dream is the monsoon’s hesitation.

  • The Unbroken Cord – Inaea. The river’s memory woven into silk; every oath is a knot.

  • The Drowned King – Khemesh. Pressure from the deep; the ninth wave is his breath.

  • The Green Lamp – The Witness. The Vigil’s flame; it flickers when a lie enters the record.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Kalrantha Fragment (Malachai, the Chained Angel): A silver coin that never spends was found floating in the Monsoon’s Eye. The astrologer keeps it in a jar of brine. It whispers to him at night — promises of perfect predictions, of rains that never fail. The coin’s warmth spreads through the palace like a fever.

• The Drowned Courier (The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire): A Breath-less agent drowned in the river last monsoon, but her ghost still carries messages. She appears at midnight on the Bridge of Three Echoes, offering to deliver secrets to the dead. The price is a memory of living sunlight.

• The Root That Drinks (The Bitter Root): A Daughter of the Cord has taken refuge in the well of the Drowned Nat. She claims the spirit is not a nat but a Hollowed — one of the High Mother’s own, lost when a witness cord was cut. She asks the party to help her re-tie the cord before the monsoon fails.

• The Ninth Terrace’s Promise (Ukwe – Sekogo): The forbidden rice of the Ninth Terrace is said to be grown from seeds stolen from the Ukwe’s roots. The Green Council demands its return, but the God-King refuses. A Sekogo druid offers the party a way to steal the rice without angering the spirits — if they also bring back a vial of water from the Monsoon’s Eye.

Ayokha Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the River: Crumble a crust into the current. Ignore the first River Floods penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Cord: Tie a single knot in a witness cord before using it. Cancel Witness Cord Cut or take –1 die on your next oath. [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Well: Whisper a dead Vigil’s name into the well. Gain +1 Effect when witnessing an oath, but mark Obligation to the Monsoon Spirit. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from river merchants or spirit-mediums.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby bell-ringer or customs boats.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for river-spirits or the Vigil.

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

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Vigil or spirit-medium becomes aware and begins responding.

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

• Foe Appears: A rival merchant’s boat or a river-spirit 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 spirit-mediums, customs boats, or river-spirits arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — monsoon fails / well runs dry / cord is cut.

• 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: God-King’s Astrologer, Vigil Lady Suyin, or the Drowned Nat intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — flood sweeps the market / bell tower cracks / ninth terrace floods.

• 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

• Ayokha (Monsoon Law): Rain falls upward, the river changes course, a cord ties itself.

• Ayokha (Spirit Law): A nat laughs from the well, an offering steams, the Vigil’s lamp burns blue.

• Ayokha (Rice & Silk): A terrace floods for no reason, a silk bale weeps water, the bell rings twice.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Navigation): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Monsoon Swell.

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

• Weather the Flood (Endurance + Survival): On a hit in River Floods, you pick who keeps their boat; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Monsoon & Promise)

• The Rain-Eater (Nine Dry Fields) — Phases: Wells Sinking → Orchestrated Drought → Terrace Coup. Cracks: find a hidden spring, expose a false monsoon schedule, survive a night on the Ninth Terrace.

• The Drowned Vigil (Cord of the River) — Phases: Broken Oaths → Procession of Empty Barges → Flood-Baptism of a Merchant. Cracks: relic witness cord, survivor testimony, the bell ringer refusing to strike.

In Ayokha, power flows through the monsoon, the river, and the weight of a witnessed oath. The God-King rules from his floating palace, but the astrologer sets the calendar, the Lethai-ar hold the records, and the spirit-mediums speak for the nats. No one rules alone — and everyone owes a tithe to the rain.

For the GM: Use the Monsoon Timer as a visible campaign timer — it ticks down to famine or flood. Let River Court Justice be a high-stakes social encounter where a single lie can drown a judge. Enforce Betel Leaf Hospitality as a binding ritual — breaking it invites the Hollow and advances the River’s Grudge timer. Offer Treasures as monsoon schedules, silk vouchers, and witness cords — each a tool to survive the next storm or the next audit. Track Rain’s Due as the region’s central pressure; the party’s actions can reduce it (by performing rites or paying sacrifices) or increase it (by breaking oaths or ignoring nats). The God-King’s astrologer is a potential ally, but his calendar is for sale to the highest bidder.

The new generator tables — Monsoon-Spirit Negotiation, Nat Encounters, Rice Terrace Hazards, and Monsoon Omens — add depth to supernatural encounters and environmental storytelling, drawing inspiration from Southeast Asian mythologies of river spirits, naga serpents, and the sacred balance of rain and rice.

Aelaerem of the Eastern Realms

The Hollow’s Neighbors.

My grandmother taught me that the Hollow is not evil. It is a forgetfulness. It forgets where the boundary lies, forgets that we are not food, forgets that it was once something else. So we remind it. With a thread, a bell, a bowl of salt. We are its memory.

I am a Thread-Binder. I tied a red thread around my wrist this morning. The Hollow walked past my door last night. It saw the thread. It kept walking. That is the bargain. I give it a boundary. It respects the boundary. Mostly. But last week it forgot the thread’s color. I had to tie two.

The Aelaerem of the eastern realms have adapted their hedge-magic to thresholds of a different kind: bamboo groves that whisper in the dark, temple stairs that count your heartbeats, and the silence after a storm bell that has no clapper. Here, the Hollow wears the face of the uncanny — not hunger, but absence. It is the space between two bamboo stalks, the step that is always missing, the name you cannot quite remember.

They survive through ritual precision: a red thread tied at a crossroads with exactly eight knots, a bowl of rice left at dusk and never checked until dawn, a single bell rung once and then muffled with a cloth that has been washed in salt water. They whisper that the Hollow is the shadow of Kuva, cast when the first sun turned away, and that it wanders the world looking for the name it forgot.

Unlike western Aelaerem, who live in close-knit villages, the Eastern Aelaerem are often solitary or live in small family groups—yamabushi of the boundary, shrine hermits of the between. They are the ones who know where the veil is thinnest, and they are the ones paid to keep it closed. Their magic is humble: a knot to bind a promise, a thread to guide a lost ghost, a cup of sake to buy a night’s silence.

Never count the steps between your door and the crossroads. The Hollow counts with you. If you reach nine, it will be waiting at the ninth step. It will ask, “Where are you going?” Do not answer.

— Hedge-Keeper Mila, who has never slept indoors

What you notice first: Red threads tied to every gate, every bridge, every well. The smell of burnt rice and old salt. The way the Aelaerem never whistle after dusk—the Hollow thinks you are calling it. And the way they never, ever count to nine.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never count the steps between your door and the crossroads. The Hollow counts with you. If you reach nine, it will be waiting at the ninth step. It will ask, “Where are you going?” Do not answer.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Unspoken

Power here is measured in red threads tied, offerings left, and the gaps between words. The Aelaerem have no leaders, no courts, no written laws. Each hedge-keeper knows her own stretch of boundary. She knows where the Hollow walks, when it is restless, and what gesture will turn it aside. Her authority is not given by any king — it is earned by surviving the uncanny. The Aelaerem are not feared or respected; they are tolerated, because without them the Hollow would seep into every threshold. They are the neighbors of the thing that lives between the notes of a song.

Starting Location

A crossroads at dusk, where a red thread is tied around a wooden post. An old Aelaerem woman is pouring a cup of sake onto the ground. She looks up: “The Hollow walked last night. I left salt. It took the salt. It left a single red thread tied around my wrist. It moved. Sleep with that knot, and it will know where you are. Do you want to know where it went? It went toward your camp.”

The Almanac of Ordinary Days (Eastern Aelaerem)

Their western cousins on the Dolmis inherited a defense and cannot explain it: eight cups, a ninth left for the empty chair, and no answer as to why. The eastern Aelaerem have gone the other way entirely. They will tell you what the thread and the bell and the bowl of salt are for, at length, and they will show you the boundary and where it has moved this year. They are not braver than their cousins and they are not less afraid. They have simply concluded that a thing you maintain is safer than a thing you avoid, and that a forgetfulness can be reminded on a schedule. Their villages keep the accounts of that maintenance the way a coastal town keeps a sea wall — with a rota, a budget, and a great deal of complaining about whose turn it is.

What do people eat for breakfast? Rice porridge with pickled vegetables—the rice is from the paddies, the vegetables are salted in clay pots buried at the boundary. The salt is blessed by the hedge-keeper. The vegetables are always a little bitter. The bitterness is a reminder.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To tie the eight boundary knots. The ninth knot is never tied—it is left loose for the Hollow to find. If a child ties the ninth knot, the Hollow will visit that night and ask for a name. The child’s name.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their shadow. A stranger whose shadow is too short has been touched by the Hollow. A stranger whose shadow moves independently is already lost. A stranger with no shadow is the Hollow itself, wearing a borrowed face. Do not invite them in.

What is the most common crime? Thread-theft—stealing a red thread from a boundary marker. The thread is not valuable, but cutting it breaks a promise. The Hollow becomes restless. The thief is marked: their shadow will shrink one inch each night until they return the thread.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Hollow is not a single thing. It is a place—the space between heartbeats, the pause before a sneeze, the silence after a bell. The Aelaerem do not guard against a monster. They guard against the gaps.

Where do people go when they die? To the salt. The dead are cremated, and their ashes are mixed with salt and scattered along the boundary. The salt draws the Hollow’s attention away from the living. The dead become the new boundary. They do not rest. They watch.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You leave a cup of sake and a lock of hair at the place where the wrong was done. The Hollow will witness. If the sake is gone by dawn and the hair is untouched, you are forgiven. If the hair is gone, the Hollow has taken your apology as a promise. You are now bound. Do not break that promise.

What is the most important festival? The Retting of the Threads (spring). All red threads on the boundary are taken down, washed in salt water, and re-tied. The village is silent for one night—no bells, no songs, no whispers. The Hollow listens. The Hollow remembers. If a thread is tied wrong, the Hollow will correct it. The correction is always a death.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The first red thread was not tied by an Aelaerem. It was tied by the Hollow itself, before it forgot what it was. The thread is still there, at the First Boundary. If it is untied, the Hollow will remember its true name. Then it will stop being hungry. It will become something else. No one knows what.

Aelaerem of the Eastern Realms — “Rice, Salt, and the Ninth Step”

Key Demographic: Aelaerem (Halfling), with Sihai and Nihori tenants on the lower terraces

Chief Settlement: Yatsuno, the Eightfold Village — eight hamlets, eight bells, and no ninth

Entanglements

To the West:

Sihai – The Central Kingdom’s censors would very much like the boundary surveyed, numbered, and taxed. Every generation a surveyor arrives with a measuring chain. Every generation the chain comes back one link short, and no one can say which link.

To the East:

Nihori – The storm-isles keep the same taboo in a different dialect: they will not speak of the ninth wave, the Aelaerem will not walk the ninth step. Nihori duellists find the hedge-keepers superstitious. Hedge-keepers find duellists loud.

To the South:

Ayokha – The monsoon moves the boundary a little every year, which is why the Retting is a spring rite and not an autumn one. Ayokhan river-factors buy indigo and salted plum here and pay in seed-rice.

To the North:

Lethai-thora of Sihai – The Silent Ledgers and the boundary rota borrow each other’s bookkeeping and each other’s silences. A Lethai-thora clerk will audit a boundary ledger for free, for the pleasure of it.

Across the water:

Aelinnel of the Inland Sea – Gnomish tide-keepers and Aelaerem thread-binders trade methods at the equinox and argue about them for the rest of the year.

Quick Reference

Tagline: The boundary is a chore. Do the chore.

Rota-Keeper (Elite): “You want to know what keeps the Hollow out? Not courage. Not a sword. A rota. Ume has the north thread in the first week, Tomo in the second, and if Tomo is drunk again then Ume has it twice and Tomo owes her two crocks of pickle. Write it down. Read it back. That is the whole of it. The terrible things happen in the weeks nobody wrote down.”

Persimmon-Wife (Commoner): “Sit. The tea is already made — I heard you on the road, you walk heavy. Eat the plum, it is salted, it will do you good. No, do not count the stairs on the way up. I know they are lovely. I know you want to. Talk to me instead and you will not notice how many there were, and that is the point of me talking.”

Genre / Mood: Eastern folk horror in a farmhouse kitchen. Terrace fields at dusk, persimmons drying on strings, an indigo vat breathing under a blanket, and one lamp that must be lit at the correct hour or the whole valley will be wrong by morning.

Starting Location: A boundary-house at the top of the terraces, warm and low-beamed, smelling of charcoal, wet straw, and salted plum. A rota-board hangs by the door: eight columns of neat brushwork with one week rubbed out and re-written twice. An old thread-binder pours tea without asking, and sets a second cup down on the floor beside the hearth — not for you. “The east thread came loose in the storm,” she says, “and nobody has walked it since. It is a morning’s work. It is always only a morning’s work. That is why it never gets done.”

Yatsuno is beautiful, and the beauty is the defence. The terraces are cut in eight steps because eight is a finished number; the mirror-paddies are kept still because a rippled reflection is a door left ajar; the persimmons hang in strings of eight under every eave because a thing that is counted is a thing the Hollow cannot forget into its mouth. Every cosy detail in this valley is load-bearing. The quilt is warm and it is also a boundary. The pickle crock is delicious and it is also a boundary. The bathhouse is a pleasure and it is also a boundary, and there is a reason nobody bathes ninth.

What the western Aelaerem do by avoidance, the eastern Aelaerem do by maintenance. They will explain the whole system to you over tea, at length, with diagrams, and then they will hand you a bucket, because you are here and the north thread is not going to walk itself. The horror is not that the Hollow is coming. The horror is that it is already here, in the gaps, patient as damp, and the only thing between it and the village is whether somebody remembered to do the Tuesday.

What you notice first: How clean everything is, and how deliberate. Red thread at eye height on every gate, eight knots, always eight. Rice bowls set out at dusk along the terrace edge and nobody looking at them. Bells with cloth tied over the clapper. And the silence at exactly the hour when a village this pretty ought to be singing.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never count the steps between your door and the crossroads. The Hollow counts with you. If you reach nine, it will be waiting at the ninth step. It will ask, “Where are you going?” Do not answer.

Regional Mood: The Chore That Holds the World Up

There are no lords here and no courts, only the rota. Standing is measured in weeks walked, threads re-tied, salt hauled up the terraces, and whether your handwriting on the board can be read by lamplight. A hedge-keeper’s authority is exactly as long as her stretch of boundary and not one pace further, and she will tell you so with some satisfaction. Outsiders read all of this as quaint. It is not quaint. It is a maintenance schedule for the edge of the world, kept by people who bake very good bread, and the reason they are so calm about the Hollow is that they know precisely how many mornings of neglect it takes before the calm stops being warranted.

They are, accordingly, the most welcoming people in the Eastern Realms and the least sentimental. A guest is fed, bathed, given the warm end of the room, and put on the rota by the second morning. Refusing the work is not rude. It is simply understood that you are the sort of person who will be somewhere else when the boundary drifts, and you will be fed anyway, and no one will trust you with a thread.

The Boundary’s Drift (Campaign Timer)

The Hollow does not attack. It forgets — and where it forgets, the boundary moves. Track the state of the valley’s maintenance with a visible timer:

Boundary Drift [8] — Advances when:

• A week of the rota goes unwalked (+1)

• A rice bowl is checked before dawn (+1)

• A bell is rung unmuffled after dusk, or anyone whistles after dusk (+1)

• Someone counts aloud past eight, anywhere in the valley (+2)

• A red thread is cut, taken, or tied with the ninth knot (+2)

• The GM spends 1 SB to let a small neglect compound (+1)

Crucially, and unlike the Hollow’s attention in the west, this timer runs backwards under work. See Work-Parties, below. The valley is not doomed; it is behind.

At 4 segments: The mirror-paddies stop reflecting the sky properly — they reflect the terraces as they were some other year. Cats will not cross the lanes. The rota-board’s oldest entries fade. At 8 segments: The boundary has moved. Something is inside it that was outside it yesterday. Roll on What Steps Through. Until the party or the village clears at least 3 segments, every night in the valley opens with a Story Beat spent on the uncanny.

Work-Parties (clearing the timer)

This is the region’s signature move and the reason to keep the timer on the table. Boundary work is dull, physical, communal, and it is the only thing that clears Drift.

• Walk a week (clear 1). A full day spent re-tying one stretch: Body + Endurance DV 3, or Wits + Craft DV 3 if you are re-knotting rather than hauling. A Partial clears the segment but costs 1 Fatigue or 1 Supply.

• Haul the salt (clear 1). Carry blessed salt up eight terraces. Body + Endurance DV 3. Followers with Cap 2+ can do this unaided; it is the classic job to hand a follower.

• Keep the ledger (clear 1, once per season). An afternoon reconciling the rota-board against what was actually walked: Wits + Insight DV 4. On a Clean Success, also learn where the next drift will occur — ask the GM one true question about the boundary.

• Stand the Retting (clear 3). The spring rite: every thread down, washed in salt water, re-tied in one silent night. This is a scene, not a roll — run it as a Silent Night [6] Timer where each segment is a stretch re-tied and every noise the party makes is a segment the GM takes back. Clearing it clears 3 Drift and is worth 2 XP to everyone who kept silent.

• Feed the boundary (clear 1, costs). Set out the bowls yourself and do not look until dawn. No roll. Whoever set them out wakes with one memory gone soft at the edges — they can still name the thing, but not describe it. The GM gains 1 SB.

Escalation. A Tier I party clears Drift a segment at a time in one valley. A Tier III or IV party is asked to walk the First Boundary — eight days, eight prefectures, a rota nobody has kept in living memory — and that is a Long Rota [10] Timer with real teeth at every segment. The chore does not get easier. It gets longer, and there is more of the world behind it.

What Steps Through (d6)

When Boundary Drift reaches 8, roll 1d6:

1. The Extra Stair. The shrine steps gain one. Anyone who climbs them arrives a little wrong: their shadow is short by a hand’s width until they descend backwards, counting nothing.

2. The Guest Who Leaves No Steam. A traveller takes the bathhouse. Perfectly polite, correct in every courtesy, and the water does not fog around them. Turn them out and the Drift ticks +2. Let them stay and they will still be there in the spring, and so will their appetite.

3. The Bowl That Was Checked. Every rice bowl in the valley is empty and clean, and no one set them out. Something has been keeping the rota. It will want the credit — and the seat at the board.

4. The Village in the Water. The mirror-paddies show a Yatsuno with nine hamlets. People in it wave. If anyone waves back, that person’s name is now written on the ninth column of the rota-board in their own hand.

5. The Borrowed Face. A villager comes home twice on the same evening. Both are warm. Both are hungry. Both know the rota. The village will not choose; that is not their way. They will feed both and wait, which is worse.

6. The Unmuffled Bell. A bell rings once, at the wrong hour, with no one at the rope. Every promise made in the valley that day is now heard, and the Hollow keeps the accounts. All Obligation marked this session is doubled until someone confesses a lie at the bell tower.

Breaches of the Rota (d6)

When a PC skips their week, cuts a thread, counts aloud, or whistles after dusk, roll 1d6:

Prominent NPCs of the Eastern Aelaerem

Names of the Eastern Aelaerem

Soft two-beat given names; surnames that are places and chores, the way western Aelaerem surnames are (Underhill, Bywater) — only these hills are terraced and these waters are still.

(Terraces/Groves/Shrines/Waters/Boundaries)

Mirror-paddies kept still enough to shave in; a bamboo grove that whispers on windless nights; shrine steps that count your heartbeats back to you; a bathhouse at a hot spring where nobody bathes ninth.

Spades — Places

2. The Eight Terraces [FARM] [ORDER]
   Eight steps of paddy, cut so the water falls from one to the next without a sound.
   There were nine, once. The lowest is not spoken of and is not planted.
   Mechanical hook: Working a day here restores 1 Fatigue and clears 1 Boundary Drift. Anyone who walks down onto the unplanted ninth takes a Wits + Insight DV 3 test to come back up the way they went; on a Miss they arrive at the top having lost an hour they cannot account for.

3. The Mirror-Paddy [WATER] [OMEN]
   Held still all season; the village shaves and mends its collars by it.
   A ripple is a door left ajar. That is why the children are not allowed to throw stones, and why they do.
   Mechanical hook: A Wits + Insight DV 3 read of the surface answers one question about something happening elsewhere in the valley right now. If Boundary Drift is 4+, the reflection answers about a different year instead, and the GM gains 1 SB.

4. Persimmon Eaves [HEARTH] [COUNT]
   Fruit hung in strings of eight under every roof-edge, drying orange against gray wood.
   A string of nine appeared on the smith’s house the winter he died. Nobody hung it.
   Mechanical hook: Sleeping under the eaves is a safe rest — no night SB is spent on the sleepers. Counting the strings aloud ticks Boundary Drift +2 and the counter dreams of the ninth fruit.

5. The Indigo Shed [CRAFT] [SECRET]
   Vats kept warm under quilts, breathing like something asleep; the dyer talks to them daily.
   The vat is alive in the ordinary way. It is also the only ink the boundary ledger will accept.
   Mechanical hook: A Wits + Craft DV 3 gets you a bolt of true indigo, which counts as a Minor Asset: writing in it makes any record legible after any drowning, burning, or forgetting. Fail and you have spoiled a vat the village needs, which is a social problem for a season.

6. The Bathhouse at Warm Spring [REST] [TABOO]
   Cedar, steam, a bench worn smooth, and a strict and unexplained order of bathing.
   Eight bathe. The ninth waits. There is always someone willing to be the ninth, and there is always a reason they were not, later.
   Mechanical hook: Bathing clears all Fatigue and 1 Condition. Bathing ninth clears everything, including one thing you wanted to keep: mark 1 Identity Strain and the GM gains 2 SB.

7. Thousand-Step Shrine [SACRED] [COUNT]
   A stair up through cedar to a shrine no bigger than a pantry.
   The steps count your heartbeats and give you the number at the top. It is always slightly wrong. Slightly.
   Mechanical hook: Climbing without counting (Spirit + Endurance DV 3) earns a true omen: one honest answer about what the Hollow wants here and now. Anyone who counts arrives with the wrong number in their head and takes –1 die on Insight until they sleep.

8. The Whispering Grove [BAMBOO] [DANGER]
   Bamboo so dense the paths are decided for you; it speaks on nights with no wind.
   The gaps between the stalks are the same width as a door.
   Mechanical hook: Navigation here is Desperate unless someone keeps up steady talk (Presence + Performance DV 2 to hold the group’s attention). On a Miss, the party emerges in the grove’s own reckoning of the valley — everything correct except one building that should not be there.

9. The Charcoal Kilns [INDUSTRY] [SMOKE]
   Earth mounds smouldering for eight days on the ridge, watched in shifts.
   The watcher who falls asleep wakes to find the fire banked and the tools cleaned. Nobody admits to it.
   Mechanical hook: A watch shift is a slow scene with excellent talk; any one character may clear 1 Identity Strain by telling something true. Whoever is watching when the mound is opened gets first pick of the charcoal — worth 1 Boon of trade in any eastern market.

10. The Pickle Ground [BOUNDARY] [FOOD]
    Crocks buried in rows along the boundary line itself, salt-heavy and bitter.
    The bitterness is a reminder. Sweetness in a boundary crock means the line has moved under it.
    Mechanical hook: Opening a crock is a free, reliable read on the boundary’s true position: bitter is sound, sour is drifting, sweet means the line has already moved and the GM sets Boundary Drift to at least 6.

11. The Rota-House [LAW] [RECORD]
    A single low room, a board of eight columns, and three centuries of ledgers on the shelf.
    Every gap in the ledgers matches a year the valley does not discuss.
    Mechanical hook: A Wits + Lore DV 4 search of the ledgers finds the record of a previous drift and how it was closed — a Clue, and a method that will work again. On a Miss you find a year that has been walked by someone whose handwriting appears nowhere else, in any ledger, ever.

12. The Boundary-House [SHELTER] [WATCH]
    The last roof before the line: one hearth, one lamp, one bed always made for whoever is walking.
    The lamp is lit at the correct hour by whoever is nearest. There is no list of who is nearest. It has never once gone unlit.
    Mechanical hook: Guest-right here is absolute and free. In exchange, the guest lights the lamp at dusk. Forgetting ticks Boundary Drift +1 and the house will be cold and correct and slightly further from the path next time you come.

13. The Salt Road [DEAD] [PROCESSION]
    The switchback up which the dead are carried, ash mixed with salt, to be scattered on the line.
    The dead become the boundary. They do not rest. They watch. This is considered a good outcome.
    Mechanical hook: Carrying a stranger’s ashes up (Body + Endurance DV 3, a full day) earns the valley’s real trust: one favour, honoured without argument, from any hedge-keeper on the eastern boundary. On the way up you may ask the ashes one question at the fourth terrace.

14. The First Boundary [ANCIENT] [LAW]
    A post at a crossroads two days out, older than the terraces, with one thread on it.
    The first red thread was not tied by an Aelaerem. It was tied by the Hollow, before it forgot what it was.
    Mechanical hook: The thread cannot be re-tied, only inspected. A Spirit + Arcana DV 5 reading confirms the eight knots are tied from the inside. Untying it is not a roll and not a scene; it is a campaign, and the GM should say so out loud.

15. The Ninth Hamlet [CURSE] [PLACE]
    Yatsuno has eight. On certain evenings there is a lane you have not walked, and lamps at the end of it.
    Everyone there is kind. The tea is already poured. The rota-board has your week on it.
    Mechanical hook: Entering is easy and pleasant. Leaving costs what you would not give up: Spirit + Endurance DV 5, and on anything but a Clean Success you leave one relationship behind — an NPC who knew you no longer does. The hamlet keeps whatever it is given and is genuinely grateful.

(Keepers/Guests/Quiet Powers)

A rota-keeper with indigo on her fingers; a bell-warden who sleeps holding the cloth; a guest who is very polite and casts no steam.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. The Boundary-Cook [HEARTH] [FEEDING]
   Feeds the walkers, the guests, and the bowls, in that order, and never asks who the bowls are for.
   She sets a second cup on the floor at every meal. She has done it since she was six. She will not discuss it.
   What they carry: She knows every person in the valley by how they take their tea, which means she knows immediately when one of them has been replaced.
   What they ask: That you eat before you talk. She is not being warm. She is checking whether you eat.

3. The Rota-Keeper [LAW] [RECORD]
   Writes the board, reads it back, and holds the whole valley together with a brush and a grudge-free memory.
   Her authority ends where her stretch ends and she is proud of that. Offer her more and she will be offended.
   What they carry: Three centuries of ledgers and the ability to find the one year you need in an afternoon.
   What they ask: A week. Any week. She will take payment in nothing else.

4. The Bell-Warden [WATCH] [FEAR]
   Rings once at dawn, muffles at once, and does not sleep well.
   He heard an unmuffled bell as a boy and has been deaf in one ear and careful in the other ever since.
   What they carry: He can tell, by the way a sound dies in the valley, whether the boundary has moved — days before the crocks turn sweet.
   What they ask: Someone to take the tower for one night so he can sleep on a floor with people on it.

5. The Thread-Binder of the East Stretch [BOUNDARY] [SOLITUDE]
   Walks the long thread nobody wants, alone, in all weathers, and prefers it.
   She counts under her breath as she ties and stops at eight with a small physical effort you can see.
   What they carry: She has walked the east stretch for forty years and knows every place the line has ever been — a map that exists nowhere else.
   What they ask: Company for exactly one day, and then no more, and she will be curt about it because she means it.

6. The Salt-Hauler [DEAD] [LABOUR]
   Carries the ashes up and the salt with them, and talks to both on the way.
   He says the dead answer on the fourth terrace and not before. He is not joking and does not enjoy being asked.
   What they carry: He knows which stretches of boundary are held by which dead, and whose relatives are therefore obliged to whom.
   What they ask: Help with the load. It is very heavy. That is all.

7. The Sihai Surveyor [EMPIRE] [MEASURE]
   Seventh of his line to measure this boundary, with a chain that is one link short.
   His father’s chain was also one link short. So was his grandfather’s. He has stopped writing that part down.
   What they carry: Imperial authority, real money, and six generations of quietly falsified surveys he would rather nobody read.
   What they ask: One honest measurement. He has wanted it his whole career and is frightened of getting it.

8. The Indigo Dyer [CRAFT] [PATIENCE]
   Keeps four vats alive under quilts and talks to them the way other people talk to dogs.
   A vat that goes quiet is dying. A vat that answers is a different problem.
   What they carry: The only ink the ledgers accept, and the knowledge of what makes it work, which is not a secret so much as a discipline.
   What they ask: That you keep the shed warm for eight days while he is away. It is the most trust anyone here will place in you this early.

9. The Work-Party [COMMUNITY] [PRESSURE]
   Nine or ten neighbours with tools, rice balls, and opinions, walking a stretch together.
   They are cheerful, loud, and the safest thing in the valley, which is exactly why they are loud.
   What they carry: Numbers, tools, gossip, and the fastest way to clear Boundary Drift — treat them as a Follower group with Cap 4 for boundary labour only.
   What they ask: That you keep up and take your turn carrying. Both are noticed.

10. The Guest Who Leaves No Steam [HOLLOW] [COURTESY]
    Perfectly polite, correct in every courtesy, and the bathwater does not fog around them.
    They know the rota. They have offered to take a week. The village is thinking about it.
    What they carry: Genuine good manners, and a name that no one in the valley can afterwards recall being told.
    What they ask: A place on the board. They are asking properly, which is the horror of it.

11. The Hedge-Keepers’ Circle [FACTION] [MUTUAL AID]
    Every thread-binder on the eastern boundary, meeting twice a year to argue about method.
    They have no leader and no rules except that the boundary is walked, and they will feud for decades over knot spacing.
    What they carry: Collective knowledge of eight hundred li of boundary, and the ability to summon two hundred people with tools in four days.
    What they ask: That you take a side in the knot-spacing argument. There is no neutral position. Choose and be committed.

12. The Retting Chorus [RITE] [SILENCE]
    The eight who lead the spring rite: one per hamlet, chosen by who walked the most weeks.
    They do not speak from dusk to dawn on the night, and for a week after they speak very little and very carefully.
    What they carry: The right to re-tie the First Boundary’s neighbours, and the memory of every Retting they have stood.
    What they ask: That you either stand silent with them or leave the valley for the night. There is no third option and no offence taken either way.

13. The Woman Who Came Home Twice [HOLLOW] [FAMILY]
    Both of her are warm. Both are hungry. Both know the rota and both are correct about it.
    The village has fed both for three weeks and has not chosen. That is not indecision. That is the method.
    What they carry: Between them, one whole life, and neither will say which half.
    What they ask: That you do not make the village choose. Whoever forces it will be blamed, correctly, for what follows.

14. The Rota-Keeper’s Predecessor [MEMORY] [AUTHORITY]
    The old keeper, retired thirty years, who still walks a week she was never assigned.
    Her handwriting is in ledgers from before she was born. She has read them. She has stopped mentioning it.
    What they carry: The only living account of the last time the boundary moved and what it cost to move it back.
    What they ask: That someone reads the year she will not read aloud, and tells her whether her hand is really in it.

15. The Hollow, Keeping the Rota [HOLLOW] [DREAD]
    The bowls have been set out and cleared for a month by something that wants the work.
    It is doing the job properly. That is not a relief. A thing that maintains the boundary decides where the boundary is.
    What they carry: Perfect, patient competence, and the beginnings of a claim.
    What they ask: A column on the board with a name in it. It does not have a name. It would like one of yours, and it will say please.

(Neglect/Weather/Uncanny)

Rain that unpicks a knot a night; a week nobody wrote down; a lane that is one house longer than it was.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. The Week Nobody Wrote Down [NEGLECT] [QUIET]
   A column on the board is blank and everyone assumed it was somebody else’s.
   Nothing happened that week. Nothing at all. That is the complication.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Boundary Drift +1 for each such week the party fails to notice. A Wits + Insight DV 3 audit of the board finds them; nobody in the valley will find them unprompted, because everyone is sure.

3. Rain Unpicks the Knots [WEATHER] [WORK]
   Three days of monsoon rain and half the eastern threads are hanging loose.
   The knots do not fail in a storm. They fail two days after, in the sun, when nobody is worried.
   Mechanical hook: A full stretch must be re-walked in one day or Boundary Drift +2. This is a straightforward Body + Endurance DV 3 for everyone who helps, and a genuine problem for a party who consider themselves too important for it.

4. Somebody Counted [TABOO] [PANIC]
   A child, a guest, or a drunk said nine out loud in the lane.
   The village does not punish it. The village goes very quiet and starts checking things, which is worse to watch.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Boundary Drift +2. Until it is cleared, the ninth of anything the party counts is wrong: the ninth arrow, the ninth step, the ninth coin. The GM should apply this once, memorably, at the worst moment.

5. Sweet in the Crock [OMEN] [MOVED]
   A boundary pickle crock is opened and the contents are sweet.
   Bitter is sound. Sour is drifting. Sweet means the line has already moved and you are standing on the wrong side of the question.
   Mechanical hook: Boundary Drift is immediately at least 6. The party’s current location may now be outside the boundary; the GM should not announce which.

6. The Lamp Went Unlit [NEGLECT] [DOOR]
   Nobody was nearest to the boundary-house at dusk. It had never happened before.
   The house is not damaged. It is simply further from the path than it was, and it will be further again tomorrow.
   Mechanical hook: The boundary-house cannot be reached again until someone spends a night on the line without it (Spirit + Endurance DV 4, and the GM gains 1 SB on anything but a Clean Success).

7. The Surveyor’s Chain [EMPIRE] [PRESSURE]
   Sihai wants the boundary in the register, and a register is a fixed thing.
   The valley’s whole method depends on the line being allowed to move. A survey is not a nuisance. It is a threat.
   Mechanical hook: Start a Registered [6] Timer. If it fills, the boundary is legally fixed where it is not, and every subsequent Work-Party clears one fewer segment until the register is corrected — which is a matter for clerks, bribery, and Lethai-thora auditors.

8. A Bell at the Wrong Hour [SOUND] [ACCOUNT]
   One ring, unmuffled, with nobody at the rope.
   Every promise made in the valley today has been heard, and something is keeping the accounts.
   Mechanical hook: All Obligation marked this session is doubled. It can be undone only by a public, specific confession of a lie at the bell tower, in front of people who will remember it.

9. Whistling After Dusk [TABOO] [INVITATION]
   Somebody in the party is cheerful and does not know the rule.
   Whistling is calling. The Hollow does not know it was not being called.
   Mechanical hook: Tick Boundary Drift +1 and the whistler is followed home. Not attacked — followed, politely, at a fixed distance, every night, until they whistle the same tune at the boundary post and let it go past them.

10. The Lane Is One House Longer [SPACE] [DREAD]
    Everyone agrees the lane has always had eleven houses. It had ten yesterday.
    The new house is lived in. The family in it are on the rota and have been for years, in the ledgers, in indigo.
    Mechanical hook: A Wits + Lore DV 4 against the ledgers proves the insertion. Proving it publicly is a social catastrophe — the family are real, kind, and have children. The party must decide what a boundary is for.

11. The Guest Asks for a Week [HOLLOW] [COURTESY]
    The polite guest with no steam has formally requested a place on the rota, and the request is in order.
    There is no rule against it. Nobody has ever needed one.
    Mechanical hook: The village will decide by discussion over three evenings. The party may argue either side (Presence + Sway DV 4). Refusing costs Boundary Drift +2 as the guest leaves and takes their goodwill with them; accepting hands a stretch of the boundary to something that is not from here.

12. The Retting Is Broken [RITE] [FAILURE]
    Somebody made a noise on the silent night.
    The rite does not fail loudly. It fails by being finished anyway, with everyone knowing it did not take.
    Mechanical hook: The Retting clears no Drift this year and the valley must carry the shortfall for four seasons. Anyone who kept silent gains 1 XP anyway; whoever made the noise carries the Condition The One Who Spoke until the next spring.

13. Two of Her [HOLLOW] [FAMILY]
    A neighbour has come home twice, and the village has fed both for a month.
    Between them they have one life. Forcing the issue is the mistake outsiders always make.
    Mechanical hook: Any attempt to test, expose or separate them is a Spirit + Insight DV 5 and the GM gains 2 SB on anything but a Clean Success. Left alone, the situation resolves itself in a season, badly but survivably, and the valley will not thank anyone who hurried it.

14. The Long Rota [EPIC] [LABOUR]
    The First Boundary has not been walked in living memory and the whole eastern line is drifting behind it.
    Eight days, eight prefectures, and a rota that no one alive has kept. It is only work. There is simply a great deal of it.
    Mechanical hook: A Long Rota [10] Timer, one segment per stretch, each with its own DV 3–4 obstacle and one telegraphed DV 5 at the seventh. This is the region’s Tier III–IV score and should be sought out, not stumbled into.

15. The Hollow Has Been Keeping It [HOLLOW] [CLAIM]
    The work has been done. Properly. For a month. By something that wants the credit.
    Whoever maintains a boundary decides where it is. The village has been safe all month and that is precisely the problem.
    Mechanical hook: Boundary Drift reads 0 and is lying. Start a hidden Claim [8] Timer that the party cannot see; it fills whenever the valley accepts the work without asking who did it. When it fills, the Hollow’s stretch is legitimate, and re-taking it is a war fought with ledgers, witnesses, and one very long night.

(Tokens/Rights/Blessings)

Things given, not won: a week walked in your name, salt from the fourth terrace, a knot tied by somebody who knows how.

Diamonds — Treasures & Discoveries

2. A Week Walked in Your Name [SOCIAL] [ONCE]
   Somebody took your stretch without being asked and wrote your name beside theirs.
   This is the highest compliment in the valley and everyone will know by supper.
   Hollow cost: You owe a week back. Until you walk it, the Hollow counts you as a gap in the rota, and the GM may spend 1 SB to have something step into it.

3. Eight-Knot Cord [WARD] [ONCE]
   A red thread tied by a hedge-keeper who has walked forty years.
   Eight knots, tied outward. It will hold one thing off one time.
   Hollow cost: Spend it to cancel one supernatural consequence entirely. The cord unravels and the keeper who tied it feels it happen, wherever she is, and will want to know what you spent her work on.

4. Salt of the Fourth Terrace [DEAD] [ONCE]
   Salt from where the ashes answer, carried down rather than up.
   The dead are the boundary. A handful of them will hold a doorway for a night.
   Hollow cost: Ward any threshold for one night, absolutely. In the morning the dead who held it are owed a name spoken aloud — the GM’s choice of whose, and it will be inconvenient.

5. Boundary Indigo [RECORD] [ASSET]
   A bolt or a bottle of the true dye, from a vat that answered.
   Anything written in it survives drowning, burning, and being forgotten, which is the rare one.
   Hollow cost: Counts as a Minor Asset. Records written in it cannot be lost — including the ones you would rather were.

6. The Rota-Keeper’s Word [SOCIAL] [ONCE]
   She will say, once, in front of witnesses, that you walked your weeks.
   There is no higher character reference on the eastern boundary and no way to buy one.
   Hollow cost: One social obstacle in the Eastern Realms among rural folk simply does not happen. She will not do it twice, and she will not do it for anyone who asks.

7. A Night at the Warm End [REST] [ONCE]
   The best place in the room by the fire, given without being asked for.
   Guests get warmth. The warm end is for household.
   Hollow cost: Clear all Fatigue and 1 Condition, and count as household in that hamlet from now on — which means you are on the rota, and everyone will simply assume you know that.

8. The East Stretch Map [KNOWLEDGE] [ASSET]
   Forty years of where the line has actually been, drawn from memory in indigo.
   It exists nowhere else and she will not copy it. She may give it to you.
   Hollow cost: Reduce the DV of any boundary-related test on the eastern line by 1. She gave it to you because she has decided she will not walk it much longer, and she expects you to notice that.

9. A Crock of the Bitter [SUPPLY] [OMEN]
   Pickles from a sound stretch, salt-heavy, unpleasant, and honest.
   Opening one anywhere in the world tells you whether the ground you stand on is inside a boundary or outside one.
   Hollow cost: One reliable answer, once, anywhere. Then you have to eat them.

10. The Muffling Cloth [TOOL] [ONCE]
    Salt-washed, worn thin, and older than the tower.
    It takes the sound out of one thing that should not have been heard.
    Hollow cost: Erase one sound entirely — an alarm, a scream, a promise spoken aloud. The promise still counts. Only the hearing of it is undone.

11. A Place on the Board [STATUS] [PERMANENT]
    Your name, in indigo, in a column of its own.
    You are not a guest here now. You are a chore that other people rely on.
    Hollow cost: Permanent standing with the Hedge-Keepers’ Circle and a call on two hundred people with tools. Miss three weeks running and the column is rubbed out, publicly, and it will never be offered again.

12. The Ledger Year [CLUE] [LORE]
    The record of the last time the boundary moved, and exactly how it was moved back.
    It is a list of chores. It is also the only surviving instruction for closing a drift.
    Hollow cost: A method that will work again, and the name of who paid for it last time, which is a name somebody in the valley still answers to.

13. The Retting Silence [BLESSING] [SEASONAL]
    You stood the silent night and did not speak.
    The valley knows. Nobody says so. That is the point.
    Hollow cost: Clear 3 Boundary Drift, gain 2 XP, and for one season the Hollow does not notice you first — when something must be chosen from a group, it chooses somebody else. Live with knowing that.

14. The First Boundary’s Reading [LORE] [DANGEROUS]
    Confirmation of what the knots on the oldest post are, and which side they were tied from.
    Eight knots. Tied from the inside. The Hollow bound itself out, once, when it still remembered how.
    Hollow cost: A campaign-scale truth: the Hollow is not besieging the boundary. It built it. Anyone who knows this cannot un-know it, and every hedge-keeper who has been told has stopped sleeping well.

15. The Name It Forgot [MYTH] [ONCE]
    A syllable, found in a ledger year that should not exist, in handwriting nobody can place.
    The Hollow wanders looking for the name it forgot. This may be it. It may also be a name the Hollow left where it would be found.
    Hollow cost: Speaking it ends one Hollow manifestation permanently, anywhere in the world, and tells the Hollow where you are for the rest of your life. Nobody who has spoken it has been able to explain why they thought it was worth it, afterwards, though all of them still say it was.

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).

• Diamonds here are almost never loot. They are things given by people who have decided about you: a week walked in your name, a place on the board, the warm end of the room. Hand them over in a scene, not in a pile.

• If any A appears, the uncanny should be tidy. The Hollow in the east does not smash. It keeps the rota, straightens the bowls, and writes neatly in your column.

• Track Boundary Drift [8] as a campaign pressure — and put the clearing conditions where the players can see them. A timer that only goes up teaches a table to despair; this one is a chore list, and the whole regional flavour is that the chore list works.

• Let the cosy things be mechanically real. The bathhouse clears Fatigue. The persimmon eaves make a safe rest. The tea is genuinely good. A folk horror where the comfort is fake is a cheap one; here the comfort is true, and it is load-bearing, and that is what makes neglect frightening.

Additional Features

• Take Your Turn: A character who has walked a week within the last season shifts one step safer on their first social action in any Aelaerem settlement in the Eastern Realms. Word travels along the rota faster than along the roads.

• Eat Before You Talk: Accepting food before opening business cancels the first SB generated by negotiation in that scene. Refusing is not an insult and carries no penalty — but the household will note that you did not eat, and will remember it later, when someone is checking who is who.

• Stop at Eight: Any character who deliberately breaks off a count at eight — of steps, coins, arrows, breaths — may re-roll one failed die on that action, once per scene. The habit is worth having and is exactly as easy to acquire as it sounds.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Ninth: The Ninth Taboo is not a superstition shared between regions; it is the same fact reported in three languages. Nihori will not name the ninth wave, Ayokha pours the ninth cup for the drowned, and here nobody bathes ninth. A party who has met all three should be told, once, that these are one thing.

• Ikasha, She Who Sleeps: The eastern Aelaerem say the Hollow is Kuva’s shadow, cast when the first sun turned away. Sihai scholars say it is what Ikasha dreams about. The hedge-keepers consider the distinction academic and the scholars unhelpful with buckets.

• The Sealed Gate: Certain boundary posts are shod with a nail from the old shrines. A post so shod holds for nine days without maintenance — which sounds like a gift and is the only thing in this valley that runs on nines. Hedge-keepers use them, warily, and pull them before the ninth day.

• The Traveler: A gray pilgrim occasionally joins a work-party, carries more than his share, eats nothing, and is gone by the fourth terrace. Stretches he helped on do not drift for a year. Nobody has ever got his name and everyone has stopped trying.

• The Clockwork Monad: The Sihai surveyor’s chain is one link short, and always has been. A brass-and-breath measuring engine brought up from Aeler holds gave the same result, twice, then stopped working. The engine is in the rota-house, under a cloth, and nobody has thrown it away.

• The Silent Ledgers (Lethai-thora): The two peoples’ bookkeeping conventions are close enough that a Lethai-thora auditor can read a boundary ledger at sight. Several have. None will discuss the years that are missing from both.

Eastern Aelaerem Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Set the Second Cup: Pour one on the floor before you drink. Ignore the first penalty from a supernatural complication this scene.

• Break Off at Eight: Stop a count aloud at eight, deliberately, where others hear you. Cancel one Boundary Drift tick, or take –1 die on your next Insight roll (your choice).

• Muffle the Bell: Tie cloth over something that would ring, chime, or clatter. Gain +1 Effect on any Stealth action this scene, but mark Obligation — you have asked the boundary for a favour, and it keeps accounts.

The eastern Aelaerem have no spells. They have a schedule. Their power lies in the fact that a thing which is maintained is a thing the Hollow cannot forget into its mouth — and maintenance, unlike courage, can be delegated, written down, argued about, and done again next week by somebody else. A red thread with eight knots is not magic; it is a statement that this line is attended to, and attention is the one thing the Hollow does not have. To be given a week on the board is to be told you are part of what holds the valley up. To lose it is not exile. It is simply that people stop counting you, and here, more than anywhere, a thing that is not counted is a gap.

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: A neighbour notices what you did and, worse, says nothing about it.

• Noise: A bell, a whistle, a laugh — carried further than you meant, after dusk.

• Trace: Mud on the wrong terrace; a knot tied in your unmistakable style.

• Delay: The work takes the whole day. It was always going to take the whole day.

• Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer, or +1 Boundary Drift.

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Position Slip: You are moved down the rota; the work you wanted goes to somebody else.

• Resource Loss: A crock, a vat, or a stretch of thread is spoiled and must be redone.

• Complication: An outsider — surveyor, factor, pilgrim — arrives at exactly the wrong hour.

• Injury: Boundary work is physical. Mark Fatigue or Harm from a fall, a cold night, a load.

• Social Cost: Somebody covered your week without saying so, and now everyone knows both facts.

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: The Circle convenes and the argument becomes about you.

• Environmental Turn: Monsoon, landslip, or a night cold enough to crack a crock.

• Betrayal: A ledger entry in your hand that you did not write.

• Boundary Moves: Set Boundary Drift to at least 6 and do not say why.

• Obligation: You are given the east stretch. Refusing it is a public act.

Major Turns (4+ SB)

• Trap Springs: A stretch everyone believed was walked was not, and has not been for years.

• Authority Arrival: The Rota-Keeper, the Circle, or the Sihai Surveyor intervenes with paperwork.

• Scene Shift: The lane is one house longer; the paddy reflects another year; the steps gain one.

• Patron Omen: The bell rings unmuffled at the wrong hour and every promise is heard.

• Narrative Pivot: Something has been keeping the rota, and doing it well, and would like a name.

Region-Specific SB Options

• Aelaerem-East (Maintenance): A chore you completed is found undone in the morning, neatly.

• Aelaerem-East (Counting): The ninth of something goes wrong — the ninth step, arrow, coin, word.

• Aelaerem-East (Hospitality): You are fed, warmed, thanked, and quietly written onto the board without being asked.

Boss Archetypes in the Eastern Realms Aelaerem

• The Polite Guest (Hollow/Courtesy) — A visitor who leaves no steam and has asked, properly, for a week. Phases: Correct in Every Courtesy → A Column of Their Own → Whoever Maintains It Decides Where It Is. Cracks: the Rota-Keeper’s Word spoken against them in front of witnesses; a Crock of the Bitter opened at their feet.

• The Ninth Hamlet (Place/Hospitality) — Not a creature; a lane at the end of the valley with the tea already poured. Phases: The Lamps at the End → Your Week on Their Board → The Kindness That Keeps. Cracks: Salt of the Fourth Terrace at the lane’s mouth; anyone who can leave without giving up a relationship.

• The Surveyor’s Register (Empire/Order) — Not malicious, and worse for it: a chain, a form, and six generations of falsified returns. Phases: Lawful Measurement → The Line Fixed Where It Is Not → The Method Made Illegal. Cracks: a Ledger Year entered into evidence; a Lethai-thora auditor who enjoys this sort of thing.

• The Thing That Keeps the Rota (Hollow/Claim) — Perfect, patient, competent, and asking please. Phases: The Bowls Are Already Cleared → A Name in the Column → The Boundary Is Where It Says. Cracks: The Name It Forgot; a valley that will walk its own weeks again, which is not a roll but a season of them.

Faction Entanglements

• The Hedge-Keepers’ Circle: Take a side in the knot-spacing argument and commit to it; you gain a faction and lose the other half. Neutrality is read as not caring, which here is the only real insult.

• Work-Parties: Keep up, carry your share, and they are a Cap 4 Follower group for boundary labour anywhere on the eastern line. Shirk once and they will be perfectly pleasant and will never call for you again.

• Sihai Censorate: Cooperate with the survey for money and protection; obstruct it to keep the line able to move. You cannot do both, and the valley cannot say out loud which it wants.

• The Retting Chorus: Stand the silent night to gain their trust; make a noise and carry The One Who Spoke until spring. They will not shun you. They will simply never assign you a week again.

• The Bowls (quiet powers): Set them out yourself and do not look until dawn to cancel the first supernatural SB of a leg. Check early and Boundary Drift +1, every time, without exception.

Cross-Regional Ties

• Sihai Registers: A boundary entered in the imperial register is a boundary that cannot legally move. Parties who fix this on paper in Jingdu are heroes in eight hamlets who will never meet them.

• Nihori Storm-Law: Nihori will not name the ninth wave; the Aelaerem will not walk the ninth step. A character who honours both taboos in the same season is treated as a serious person in both places.

• Ayokhan Monsoon: The rains move the line every year, which is why the Retting is spring work. When Ayokhan weather is severe, Boundary Drift starts each season at 2 rather than 0.

• Way of Silk Spurs: Indigo, salted plum, and charcoal move west along the caravan spurs. A forged boundary-indigo bolt found on the Silk road is a scandal here and a shrug there, and the difference is worth a scene.

• Aelinnel of the Inland Sea (North): Tide-keepers and thread-binders trade method at the equinox. When both traditions are applied to one threshold, it holds for eight days without maintenance — and neither people will explain why they find that number reassuring.

Encounter Seeds (Quick Hooks)

• The East Thread: It came loose in the storm and nobody has walked it since. It is a morning’s work. It has been a morning’s work for eleven weeks.

• The Guest at the Bathhouse: They are polite, they know the rota, they have asked for a week, and the village is genuinely undecided. The party gets three evenings and a vote.

• The Chain That Is One Link Short: The seventh surveyor of his line wants one honest measurement before he retires, and is terrified of getting it. He will pay well and cannot say what for.

• Two of Her: A neighbour has come home twice. Both are warm. The village is feeding both and waiting. Somebody in the party is going to want to fix this.

Aelinnel of the Inland Sea

The Bell-Tenders.

The Hollow is not a place. It is a miscount. The ninth step that is never there, the ninth cup that is never poured, the ninth name that is never spoken. We do not fight the Hollow. We leave one empty chair, one unlit lamp, one uncounted stone. That is the price of sitting at the table.

I asked an Aelinnel bell-tender how she kept the tide-spirits from flooding her village. She tapped her temple. “I count them,” she said. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Then I stop. They know that if I ever count nine, I am not counting them.”

The Aelinnel of the East do not hide from the spirits — they coexist. Small spirits inhabit every rock, tree, and wave. The Aelinnel have learned to negotiate with them using copper bells, precise counting, and occasional offerings of pickled plums. They are the engineers of shrines, the builders of floating bridges, and the keepers of the bell-lines that keep tide-spirits from straying. Some say Kuva, the sky, taught them the first counting song, and that the Hollow is simply the space where the count fails.

Unlike their western kin, who lean toward the Gift of the Mind, the Eastern Aelinnel practice a folk mathematics that blends logic and superstition. They believe every spirit has a number-name — a frequency that can be rung out of a bell, a sequence of steps that can be walked, a knot that can be tied. To offend a spirit is to miscount.

Never count to nine aloud near a shrine. The spirits count with you. When you reach nine, they will ask: “What comes after nine?” The answer is always the Hollow.

— Bell-Warden Tumble, who writes letters on copper wax

What you notice first: The sound of copper bells — not ringing in sequence, but chiming in overlapping waves. The way every bridge has a missing ninth plank. The smell of pickled plums and salt.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never count to nine aloud near a shrine. The spirits count with you. When you reach nine, they will ask: “What comes after nine?” The answer is always the Hollow.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Count

Power here is measured in bells rung, tides predicted, and the precision of a threshold. The Aelinnel have no kings or councils; their authority rests on the bell-wardens who maintain the shrines and the tide-counters who read the waves. A village that loses its bell-warden is a village that the tide-spirits will flood. A bridge without its ninth plank missing is a bridge that the Hollow will cross. The Aelinnel do not worship the spirits; they transact with them. An offering is not a prayer — it is a payment. A bell is not a musical instrument — it is a contract.

Starting Location

A floating shrine on the Inland Sea, where copper bells hang from every corner. A Bell-Warden rings a bell eight times, then stops: “The tide-spirit is restless. It wants a ninth bell. I will not give it. You — count the waves. Tell me how many break before the sun sets. If you miscount, the spirit will ask you for a story. Do not miscount.”

The Almanac of Ordinary Days (Aelinnel)

The Bell-Tenders have made deliberate incompleteness into a civil engineering discipline. One empty chair at the table, one lamp unlit on the row, one stone left uncounted in the wall — and every public work in the Inland Sea is built with a gap in it on purpose, signed off by an inspector whose entire office is verifying that the gap is still there. Western Aelinnel keep polite iron and a moonlit propriety they could not defend in argument. These ones have a form for it, a fee schedule, and an appeals process. Ask an inspector what happens if a gap is closed and you will get a straight, professional answer about structural risk that does not, on later reflection, explain anything at all.

What do people eat for breakfast? Rice porridge with pickled plums — the plums are fermented in salt brine and stored in copper-lidded barrels. The brine is never poured out; it is passed down through generations. The oldest batch is said to be nine generations old. No one has tasted it.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To count the eight safe numbers. Children are taught to count pebbles, footsteps, and bell-rings — but always to stop at eight. The ninth is never spoken. A child who says “nine” aloud is sent to sit by the missing plank of the bridge until they forget they ever said it.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their fingers. Aelinnel tide-counters often have only eight fingers — the ninth was a miscount they paid for. A stranger with nine fingers has never made a mistake. A stranger with seven has paid a heavy debt. A stranger with no fingers is either a spirit or someone who counted to nine and lost everything.

What is the most common crime? Bell-theft — but not for the copper. A stolen bell can be rung at the wrong time, creating a miscount. The thief is not punished by law; they are given to the tide-spirit whose count was broken. The spirit decides the price.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The First Bell was not cast by an Aelinnel. It was found — already ringing, already counting. No one knows who made it. No one knows why it rang. The shards are scattered across the Inland Sea. When the ninth shard is found, the First Bell will ring again. The Hollow will hear it.

Where do people go when they die? To the bell-line. The dead are not buried. Their ashes are mixed with copper dust and cast into new bells. The bells are hung on the bell-lines. When the tide-spirits ring them, the dead speak. Mostly they say: “Count carefully.”

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a count — a public recitation of the wrong, spoken in eights. “I took the offering. I broke the bell. I counted to nine.” Then you wait. If a spirit rings a bell eight times, you are forgiven. If it rings nine times, you are cursed. If no bell rings, the Hollow will visit you at midnight.

What is the most important festival? The Retuning of the Bells (autumn). Every bell on the Inland Sea is struck once, in sequence, from the highest tide to the lowest. The sound travels for miles. The spirits listen. If a bell is out of tune, the spirits will correct it by morning. The correction is always a death — but the bell will ring true for another year.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The ninth bell was never meant to be cast. It was a mistake — a foundry worker poured one bell too many. They tried to hide it, but it rang once on its own. The tone was the Hollow’s name. The bell still exists. It is buried under a shrine on a small island. No one knows which island. The map was miscounted.

Aelinnel Regional Generator

Key Demographic: Aelinnel (Gnomes) Captial: Aevrossa

Quick Reference

Tagline: Count to eight. Stop. The ninth is for the Hollow.

Bell-Warden of the Seventh Tide (Elite): “The Hollow is not a place. It is a miscount. The ninth step that is never there, the ninth cup that is never poured, the ninth name that is never spoken. We do not fight the Hollow. We leave one empty chair, one unlit lamp, one uncounted stone. That is the price of sitting at the table.”

Tide-Counter (Commoner): “I asked an Aelinnel bell-tender how she kept the tide-spirits from flooding her village. She tapped her temple. I count them, she said. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Then I stop. They know that if I ever count nine, I am not counting them.”

Genre / Mood: Folk mathematics, coastal spirit-bargaining, horror of the miscount.

Starting Location: A floating shrine on the Inland Sea, where copper bells hang from every corner. A Bell-Warden rings a bell eight times, then stops: “The tide-spirit is restless. It wants a ninth bell. I will not give it. You — count the waves. Tell me how many break before the sun sets. If you miscount, the spirit will ask you for a story. Do not miscount.”

The Aelinnel of the East do not hide from the spirits — they coexist. Small spirits inhabit every rock, tree, and wave. The Aelinnel have learned to negotiate with them using copper bells, precise counting, and occasional offerings of pickled plums. They are the engineers of shrines, the builders of floating bridges, and the keepers of the bell-lines that keep tide-spirits from straying. Some say Kuva, the sky, taught them the first counting song, and that the Hollow is simply the space where the count fails. Unlike their western kin, who lean toward the Gift of the Mind, the Eastern Aelinnel practice a folk mathematics that blends logic and superstition. They believe every spirit has a number-name — a frequency that can be rung out of a bell, a sequence of steps that can be walked, a knot that can be tied. To offend a spirit is to miscount.

What you notice first: The sound of copper bells — not ringing in sequence, but chiming in overlapping waves. The way every bridge has a missing ninth plank. The smell of pickled plums and salt.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never count to nine aloud near a shrine. The spirits count with you. When you reach nine, they will ask: “What comes after nine?” The answer is always the Hollow.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Count

Power here is measured in bells rung, tides predicted, and the precision of a threshold. The Aelinnel have no kings or councils; their authority rests on the bell-wardens who maintain the shrines and the tide-counters who read the waves. A village that loses its bell-warden is a village that the tide-spirits will flood. A bridge without its ninth plank missing is a bridge that the Hollow will cross. The Aelinnel do not worship the spirits; they transact with them. An offering is not a prayer — it is a payment. A bell is not a musical instrument — it is a contract.

Prominent NPCs of the Aelinnel

Names of the Aelinnel

Inspired by the inland sea cultures: short, melodic, often with doubled consonants. Surnames denote a tide, a shrine, or a counting song.

(Shrine/Bridge/Cove)

A floating shrine with copper bells; a bridge with a missing ninth plank; a spirit cove where offerings are left.

Spades — Places

2. Floating Shrine (Copper Bells) — A wooden platform on pontoons, hung with bells. The bells ring when a spirit passes. The tone tells if the spirit is friendly. [SPIRIT]

3. Bridge of the Missing Plank — A wooden bridge with eight planks. The ninth is absent. The gap is exactly one foot wide. Step over it. Do not step in it. [THRESHOLD]

4. Spirit Cove (Offering Rocks) — A sheltered beach where offerings are left at low tide. The offerings are rice, pickled plums, and small copper coins. The spirits take them at night. [SPIRIT]

5. Bell-Line Tower — A stone tower with a rope of bells stretching across the channel. The rope is made of braided hair and seaweed. The bells are tuned to the tide’s frequency. [BELL]

6. Counting School — A wooden hut where children learn the eight-number system. The teacher has only eight fingers. She was born that way. The children count on theirs. [SOCIAL]

7. Tide-Watcher’s Post — A high platform on stilts, overlooking the sea. The watcher marks each wave with a pebble. Nine pebbles mean the tide is turning. [WEATHER]

8. Shrine of the Uncounted — A small shrine with no bells, no offerings, no threshold. It is for the spirits that have no number. They are the most dangerous. [DEATH]

9. Plum Orchard (Pickled) — A grove of plum trees, the fruit fermented in salt brine. The pickling barrels are sealed with copper lids. The lids have eight holes. [TRADE]

10. Copper Foundry — A forge where bells are cast and tuned. The foundry is silent. The workers use hand signals. Sound would disturb the spirits. [CRAFT]

11. The Ninth Bell (Forgotten) — A bell that was cast but never hung. It sits in a field, overgrown. It rings once a year, on the night of the ninth tide. No one knows why. [MYSTERY]

12. Hollow’s Gate (Submerged) — A stone arch underwater, visible only at the lowest tide. The arch is covered in counting marks. Eight marks, then a space. The space is the gate. [DEATH]

13. The Counting Stone — A flat rock carved with eight grooves. Water flows through them. The ninth groove is missing. The water falls into a hole. The hole is bottomless. [MAGIC]

14. The First Bell (Myth) — A bell that rang once and shattered. Its shards are scattered across the Inland Sea. Find all nine shards, and you can ring the bell that ended the first war with the Hollow. [LEGEND]

(Warden/Counter/Builder)

Bell-Warden Tumble with a copper bell; Tide-Counter Mira with eight fingers; Shrine-Builder Orin with a counting song.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Bell-Warden — Old, gray-haired, a copper bell on a leather thong. He never speaks above a whisper. “The spirits hear everything,” he says. “A whisper is a negotiation. A shout is a declaration of war.” [SOCIAL]

3. Tide-Counter — A young woman with eight fingers. She counts waves by tapping her knee. “The ninth wave is the spirit’s breath,” she says. “Do not count it. It counts you.” [WEATHER]

4. Shrine-Builder — A man with calloused hands and a wooden mallet. He never uses nails. “Nails are for coffins,” he says. “Joinery is for shrines. The spirits respect wood grain.” [CRAFT]

5. Spirit-Negotiator — A woman with a basket of pickled plums. She speaks to the air. “I offer eight plums,” she says. “The ninth is for later. Do you accept?” The air ripples. [SOCIAL] [SPIRIT]

6. Copper-Smith (Silent) — A dwarf-like figure who works in complete silence. He uses hand signs. His hands are scarred from molten copper. He has not spoken in forty years. [CRAFT]

7. Tide-Spirit (Visible) — A shimmer of light over the water, shaped like a woman. It asks: “How many waves have you counted today?” Answer with eight, or it will flood. [SPIRIT] [FEAR]

8. Counting Teacher — An old woman with a slate and chalk. She teaches children to stop at eight. “What comes after eight?” she asks. The children chorus: “Nothing. We stop.” [SOCIAL]

9. Hollow-Watcher — A boy who sits at the edge of the bridge at dusk, watching the missing plank. He can see the Hollow when it crosses. He whistles to warn the village. [DEATH]

10. Offering-Keeper — A woman who tends the spirit cove. She sweeps the beach at dawn. “The offerings are gone,” she says. “The spirits were satisfied. We have one more day.” [SPIRIT]

11. The Miscount’s Ghost — A flickering shadow with a copper bell that never rings. It follows travelers who count to nine. It whispers: “Nine. Nine. What comes after nine?” [DEATH] [FEAR]

12. First Bell’s Shard (Keeper) — A woman who holds one of the nine shards. She guards it with her life. The shard is warm. It hums at low tide. It wants to be reunited. [MAGIC]

13. The Still Bell (Legend) — A bell that hangs in a submerged shrine. It rings only when the Hollow walks. No one has heard it ring in a century. The Hollow has been quiet. Too quiet. [LEGEND]

14. Kuva’s Echo (Sky Spirit) — A voice from the bell-line tower, speaking in counting songs. “You have counted eight,” it says. “That is enough. The ninth is mine.” [PATRON]

(Squall/Pirate/Whirlpool)

A sudden squall — all navigation rolls at disadvantage; a pirate attack — pay cargo or fight; a spirit-whirlpool — lose 1 Supply to escape.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Sudden Squall — A storm rises from calm waters. Navigation DV +2. [WEATHER] The squall was summoned by an offended tide-spirit. Someone miscounted.

3. Pirate Attack (Kalingan) — Fast dhows appear from behind a reef. They demand cargo. [COMBAT] The pirates are not human. They are spirit-touched. They count in nines.

4. Spirit-Whirlpool — A whirlpool opens beneath the boat. Lose 1 Supply to escape. [DEATH] [TRAVEL] The whirlpool is a spirit’s mouth. It is hungry. Feed it a memory.

5. Bell-Line Breaks — A rope of bells snaps. The tide-spirits are no longer bound. [SPIRIT] [TOLL] The tide rises. The village will flood in nine hours. Repair the line.

6. Miscount (Offended Spirit) — A traveler counted to nine near a shrine. The spirit demands compensation. [SOCIAL] [TOLL] The compensation is a story that ends with the number eight. The spirit will check.

7. Missing Offering — The spirits took the offering, but they left a mark. The mark is a warning. [OMEN] The warning says: “The Hollow is coming. Ring the ninth bell.” But the ninth bell does not exist.

8. Copper Foundry Fire — The silent forge catches fire. The bells crack. The tones are wrong. [DISASTER] The fire was set by a rival bell-warden. He wants to replace the old bells with his own.

9. Bridge Plank Replaced (By Mistake) — Someone nails a ninth plank onto the bridge. The Hollow crosses. [DEATH] The Hollow asks: “Who built this bridge?” The builder is the party’s ally.

10. Counting School Poisoned — The teacher’s chalk is laced with a memory-erasing dust. [MAGIC] [TOLL] The children forget to stop at eight. They count to nine. The Hollow comes for them.

11. The Ninth Bell Rings (Once) — The forgotten bell in the field rings. Everyone hears it. [OMEN] [DEATH] The Hollow’s gate opens. Spirits flood the Inland Sea. The Aelinnel are terrified.

12. Tide-Spirit Demands a Name — A spirit rises from the water. It asks: “What is the ninth number?” [RIDDLE] [DEATH] There is no ninth number. The correct answer is silence. The wrong answer is death.

13. First Bell Shard Stolen — Someone steals one of the nine shards. The Hollow stirs. [THEFT] [TOLL] The thief is a foreign merchant. He wants to sell the shard to the Veiled Sisters.

14. Kuva’s Silence — The counting song stops. The sky is empty. No birds, no wind, no waves. [APOCALYPSE] Kuva has turned away. The Hollow is free. The Aelinnel are counting their last breaths.

(Charter/Bead/Stone)

Bell-charter (right to ring a named shrine); tide-bead (safe passage on the Inland Sea for one crossing); counting stone (one reroll on a navigation test in fog).

Diamonds — Treasures & Discoveries

2. Bell-Charter (Copper Token) — A small copper disc. Right to ring any named shrine bell once. [SOCIAL] The token is stamped with eight dots. The ninth dot is missing.

3. Tide-Bead (Glass) — A blue glass bead. Safe passage on the Inland Sea for one crossing. [TRAVEL] The bead was blessed by a tide-spirit. It glows when a storm is coming.

4. Counting Stone (Smooth Pebble) — A pebble with eight grooves. Reroll a failed navigation test in fog. [TRAVEL] The stone was worn by waves for a century. It knows the tide’s schedule.

5. Offering Box Key (Copper) — A small key. Opens any Aelinnel offering box. [STEALTH] The key is warm. It glows when an offering has been accepted.

6. Shrine-Builder’s Mallet — A wooden mallet with no nails. Build a temporary shrine anywhere. [CRAFT] The shrine lasts one night. The spirits will respect it.

7. Spirit-Negotiator’s Plum (Pickled) — A pickled plum in a brine jar. Offer it to any tide-spirit. [SOCIAL] The spirit will grant one favor. The favor is never large. It is always fair.

8. Bell-Line Rope (Hair and Seaweed) — A length of braided rope. Use it to bind a tide-spirit for one hour. [MAGIC] The rope smells of salt. The spirit will remember the binding.

9. Tide-Counter’s Pebble Pouch — A leather pouch of marked pebbles. Predict the tide for the next day. [WEATHER] Count the pebbles. Eight mean high tide. Seven mean low. Nine mean run.

10. Copper Bell (Untuned) — A small bell that has not been tuned. Ring it to confuse a spirit. [COMBAT] The spirit will hesitate for one exchange. The bell will crack after use.

11. Forgotten Bell’s Tone (Recording) — A clay cylinder that captured the ninth bell’s ring. [MAGIC] Play it to open the Hollow’s gate. Use once. The Hollow will be angry.

12. First Bell Shard (Green Glass) — A shard of the mythic first bell. Touch it to any spirit to command obedience for one minute. [MAGIC] The shard is warm. It hums. The spirit will obey — but it will remember.

13. Kuva’s Counting Song (Flute) — A bone flute that plays the eight-note counting song. [SOCIAL] Play it to calm any spirit. The spirit will listen. It will not attack.

14. The Hollow’s Silence (Bell) — A copper bell that rings only for the Hollow. Ring it to banish an Oath-Keeper. [DEATH] The bell will ring once. Then it will shatter. The Hollow will not forget.

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 (charters, beads, stones) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo bell-omens — a bell that rings without being struck, a missing plank that appears, a count that reaches nine and stops.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Bell-Tending: Once per scene, when near a shrine or threshold, you may ring a copper bell. The next environmental hazard (tide, fog, landslide) is delayed by 1 segment of the relevant timer. The bell’s tone also pacifies minor spirits (Cap 1) for the scene.

• Fae Courtesy: An Aelinnel never says “no” to a spirit. They say “that road is closed for repairs” or “the season is not right.” This phrasing cancels the first Story Beat generated by a spirit encounter. If forced to refuse outright, they mark 1 Fatigue (the spirit’s disappointment is heavy).

• Kuva’s Count: Once per journey, a character may roll Wits + Lore (DV 3) to recall a forgotten sky-omen; on success, the next travel leg ignores the first Club card drawn. On a miss, the omen is true, but the GM draws an additional Club for that leg.

• The Ninth Step: When you cross a threshold that has a missing ninth step (a stair, a bridge, a door), you may count the absence. Gain +1 die to resist the Hollow’s attention for the scene, but mark 1 Obligation (the Hollow now knows your name).

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Unrung — The Witness. A bell that never rings, yet remembers every promise.

  • The Counter — Mykkiel. The divine arithmetician; a miscount is a sin.

  • The Ninth Wave — Khemesh. The pressure beneath the tide; the hunger that waits after eight.

  • Kuva’s Echo — The Traveler. The sky-road and the counting song that guides lost ships.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord sometimes serve as bell-wardens, using the Hollow’s attention to collect on promises. A renegade Sister hides in a floating shrine, trying to untie her cord from a tide-spirit’s bargain.

• Malachai, the Chained Angel: A silver coin that never spends appears in offering boxes. Take it, and the spirits will accept any gift — but the coin will reappear in the mouth of a drowned sailor.

• The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Aelinnel psions are called “Echo-Readers.” They hear the count of waves in their dreams and can predict a miscount three tides before it happens.

• The Threshold Compendium: The Ninth Bell is a Class III Procession – the sound of the bell walks the Inland Sea once a year, and those who hear it must answer a riddle or join the march.

• The Ninth: In any Aelinnel scene, the ninth bell rung in an hour opens a threshold. The wise stop at eight. Those who ring the ninth see a gray figure standing on the water — waiting.

Regional Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)

• Bread to the Bell: Crumble a crust at the base of a shrine bell. Ignore the first Bell-Line Breaks penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Rope: Tie a single knot in a bell-line rope. Cancel Miscount or take –1 die on your next spirit negotiation (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Wave: Whisper a dead tide-counter’s name into the sea. Gain +1 Effect when counting waves this scene, but mark Obligation to Kuva. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from bell-wardens or tide-spirits.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby shrine builders or offering-keepers.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for spirits or the Hollow.

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

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Bell-Warden or tide-counter becomes aware and begins responding.

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

• Foe Appears: An offended tide-spirit or Hollow agent arrives on scene.

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

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

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Additional spirits, bell-wardens, or Hollow manifestations arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — bell-line breaks/miscount called/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: Bell-Warden Tumble, Kuva’s Echo, or the Miscount’s Ghost intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — shrine floods/bell-line snaps/ninth plank appears.

• 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

• Aelinnel (Bell Law): Bells ring in harmony, then stop; a missing plank glows; the count of waves becomes audible.

• Aelinnel (Spirit Law): A tide-spirit laughs, an offering steams, a copper bell tarnishes instantly.

• Aelinnel (Hollow Law): The ninth step appears, then vanishes; a whisper says “count again”; a shadow crosses the bridge.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

• Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Navigation): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Fog Bank.

• Cut the Bell (Presence + Lore): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a bell-charter is in your possession, +1 die.

• Weather the Squall (Endurance + Survival): On a hit in Sudden Squall, you pick who keeps their footing; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Bell & Count)

• The Miscount-King (Nine Errors) — Phases: Bell-Lines Severed → Orchestrated Miscount → Shrine Coup. Cracks: re-tie a bell-line, expose a false count, survive a night at the forgotten bell.

• The Drowned Counter (Spirit of the Ninth Tide) — Phases: Waves Miscounted → Procession of Empty Shrines → Bell-Baptism of a Warden. Cracks: relic tide-bead, survivor testimony, the ninth bell refusing to ring.

Among the Aelinnel, power flows through bells, counts, and the precision of a threshold. A Bell-Warden’s authority rests on the number of shrines he tends; a Tide-Counter’s on the accuracy of her predictions. There is no government, only the shared understanding that a miscount kills everyone.

For the GM: Power in Aelinnel society is measured in bells rung, offerings given, and miscounts avoided. Patronage often takes the form of bell-charters, tide-beads, or counting stones — each tied to a specific shrine, tide, or spirit. To emphasize the cultural mechanics:

• Use Bell-Tending as a hazard mitigation tool. Let players delay environmental timers by ringing bells.

• Enforce Fae Courtesy — never say “no” to a spirit. Creative phrasing is rewarded.

• Let Kuva’s Count be a journey-saving ability, but with a risk of additional complications.

• Track The Ninth Step as a source of Hollow Obligation. Each crossing of a threshold is a negotiation.

In Aelinnel society, the count forgets nothing — and the ninth bell is never rung.

Lethai-al of Nihori

The Storm-Touched Wanderers.

We do not own the land. We walk it. The road is our shrine. The storm is our law. The sea does not forgive, but it does forget. Wait long enough and the sea will take the memory of what you did off everyone who saw it. We do not wait. We walk. From shrine to shrine, from storm to storm, we carry the names of the drowned. The road is a prayer. Every step is a syllable.

My grandmother drowned in the ninth wave. Her name became a tide-charm. I keep it in a pouch of oiled leather. When the storm grows angry, I whisper her name. The sea remembers her. It calms for a moment — long enough to breathe. We are wanderers. The road is our home. The dead travel with us.

The Lethai-al of Nihori once guarded a drowned kingdom — an archipelago that sank when a forbidden name was spoken. Their blood still carries the salt of that ancient catastrophe. Now they are wanderers in the oldest sense: masterless, landless, bound to no lord but fiercely bound to each other and to the storm spirits that swirl above the waves. They walk from shrine to shrine, from port to port, following the processional roads that circle the island.

They do not farm. They do not build. They carry everything they own on their backs or in wooden carts. Their duels are not to the death — they are to the first draw of blood, after which the loser must join the procession and carry the winner’s burden for a season. Their courts are crossroads. Their temples are the road itself. The Eastern Ninth lives here: the Hollow does not hide under hills — it breathes in the salt foam. The ninth wave is never the largest; it is the one that remembers your name.

Never walk under a torii gate without making an offering. The gate is a threshold. The road on the other side is not the same road you left.

— Procession Elder Kenji, who has walked the circuit 99 times

What you notice first: The smell of salt and incense. The way the Lethai-al never sit with their backs to the sea. The constant, low murmur of waves being predicted — not by instruments, but by the tilt of a head, the twitch of a finger. The worn wooden plaques hung from their belts, each carved with a dead ancestor’s name.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never walk under a torii gate without making an offering. The gate is a threshold. The road on the other side is not the same road you left.

Regional Mood: The Processional Road

Power here is measured in shrines visited, storms survived, and the number of dead ancestors carried as tide-charms. The Lethai-al have no king, no courts, no written law. Their authority is personal and processional: a Procession Elder’s word is law because she has walked the circuit more times than anyone else. Their guilds are not guilds — they are processional bands, each with its own rhythm, its own counting song, its own patron shrine. A band that walks too fast offends the spirits; one that walks too slow loses the tide. The Lethai-al do not believe in ownership of land; they believe in passage rights, storm oaths, and the memory of the drowned. Every crossroads is a court. Every storm is a messenger. Every sunrise is a departure.

Starting Location

A procession trail winding along the sea cliffs, marked by weathered torii gates and small stone shrines. A group of Lethai-al walk in single file, chanting a counting song. One carries a palanquin with a covered object — a tide-charm shrine. The leader stops: “You stand on the processional road. The drowned are watching from the waves. Do you walk with us? If so, you must carry nothing. The road provides. The road takes away.”

The Almanac of Ordinary Days (Lethai-al)

What do people eat for breakfast? Dried fish and rice balls — the fish is smoked over driftwood fires, the rice is pressed into shapes that fit in a pouch. The food is always cold. The Lethai-al do not stop to cook. The road does not wait.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To count the nine waves. Children are taught to watch the sea and count: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight — then stop. The ninth wave is the spirit’s wave. It counts you. If you count it, you owe it.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their feet. A Lethai-al who has walked the circuit for many years has calloused soles cracked like dry earth. A stranger with soft feet has not walked far. A stranger with no feet is a ghost who lost the road.

What is the most common crime? Charm-theft — stealing a tide-charm from a sleeping traveler. The thief gains the dead ancestor’s favor for one night. The ancestor wakes. The ancestor is angry. The punishment is to carry the victim’s burden for the rest of the circuit.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The drowned kingdom did not sink by accident. The forbidden name was spoken by a Lethai-al — a woman who lost her child to the sea. She wanted the sea to remember. It remembered too well. Her name is not spoken. Her tide-charm hangs in the Sunken Gate, still wet.

Where do people go when they die? Into the tide-charms. The dead are not buried. Their names are carved onto shells and placed in oiled leather pouches. The living carry them. The dead walk with the living. When the pouch is lost, the dead become the Hollow.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You walk a crossroads circuit — nine times around a crossroads shrine, counting your steps in eights. On the ninth circuit, you must speak the wrong aloud. If the wind carries your voice away, you are forgiven. If the wind throws it back, you are not. If the wind is silent, the Hollow is listening.

What is the most important festival? The Procession of the Ninth Wave (autumn). All Lethai-al bands walk to the shore at low tide. When the ninth wave crashes, they wade into the foam and whisper the names of those who drowned that year. The sea answers with a single wave. The wave is always the same height. The height is the number of names.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Ninth Wave Herald is not a child. She is the first drowned — the woman who spoke the forbidden name. She did not die. She became the ninth wave. She returns every year to point at the horizon. She is pointing at the day the sea will rise again. No one knows which day.

Lethai-al — “The Storm-Touched Wanderers of Nihori”

Key Demographics: Lethai-al Capital City: Morikage

Quick Reference

Tagline: The road is a prayer. The storm is our law. The ninth wave remembers your name.

Procession Elder Kenji: “The sea does not forgive, but it does forget. If you can wait long enough, the waves will loosen what binds you. But we do not wait. We walk. From shrine to shrine, from storm to storm, we carry the names of the drowned. The road is a prayer. Every step is a syllable.”

Tide-Charm Keeper Yuki: “My grandmother drowned in the ninth wave. Her name became a tide-charm. I keep it in a pouch of oiled leather. When the storm grows angry, I whisper her name. The sea remembers her. It calms for a moment — long enough to breathe. We are wanderers. The road is our home. The dead travel with us.”

Genre / Mood: Processional pilgrimage, wandering monks, duelists at crossroads, storm-folk, ancestral debt.

Starting Location: A procession trail winding along the sea cliffs, marked by weathered torii gates and small stone shrines. A group of Lethai-al walk in single file, chanting a counting song. One carries a palanquin with a covered object — a tide-charm shrine. The leader stops: “You stand on the processional road. The drowned are watching from the waves. Do you walk with us? If so, you must carry nothing. The road provides. The road takes away.”

The Lethai-al of Nihori once guarded a drowned kingdom — an archipelago that sank when a forbidden name was spoken. Their blood still carries the salt of that ancient catastrophe. Now they are wanderers in the oldest sense: masterless, landless, bound to no lord but fiercely bound to each other and to the storm spirits that swirl above the waves. They walk from shrine to shrine, from port to port, following the processional roads that circle the island. They do not farm. They do not build. They carry everything they own on their backs or in wooden carts. Their duels are not to the death — they are to the first draw of blood, after which the loser must join the procession and carry the winner’s burden for a season. Their courts are crossroads. Their temples are the road itself. The Eastern Ninth lives here: the Hollow does not hide under hills — it breathes in the salt foam. The ninth wave is never the largest; it is the one that remembers your name.

What you notice first: The smell of salt and incense. The way the Lethai-al never sit with their backs to the sea. The constant, low murmur of waves being predicted — not by instruments, but by the tilt of a head, the twitch of a finger. The worn wooden plaques hung from their belts, each carved with a dead ancestor’s name.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never walk under a torii gate without making an offering. The gate is a threshold. The road on the other side is not the same road you left.

Regional Mood: The Processional Road

Power here is measured in shrines visited, storms survived, and the number of dead ancestors carried as tide-charms. The Lethai-al have no king, no courts, no written law. Their authority is personal and processional: a Procession Elder’s word is law because she has walked the circuit more times than anyone else. Their guilds are not guilds — they are processional bands, each with its own rhythm, its own counting song, its own patron shrine. A band that walks too fast offends the spirits; one that walks too slow loses the tide. The Lethai-al do not believe in ownership of land; they believe in passage rights, storm oaths, and the memory of the drowned. Every crossroads is a court. Every storm is a messenger. Every sunrise is a departure.

Starting Location (alternative): A crossroads shrine at the edge of a fishing village. A procession of Lethai-al has stopped for the night. Their carts are arranged in a circle, painted with wave patterns. A Procession Elder sits by a small fire, offering cups of sake to travelers who pause. “The road is long. The dead are many. Stay one night. Tell us a story. If we like it, we will carry it to the next shrine. If we do not, you will walk alone tomorrow.”

Prominent NPCs of the Lethai-al

Names of the Lethai-al

Inspired by Japanese and coastal Ainu traditions: short, with vowel endings, honorifics (-san, -sama, -dono). Surnames denote a band, a wave, or a drowned ancestor.

(Crossroads/Grove/Shrine)

A crossroads shrine with a missing stone; a bamboo grove where duels are fought at dawn; a processional torii gate at the edge of a cliff.

Spades — Places

2. Crossroads Shrine (Stone) — A small stone shrine at the meeting of three roads. Older travelers leave a pinch of salt on the altar. The spirits take it. The salt never depletes. [THRESHOLD]

3. Bamboo Grove (Duel Ground) — A clearing where the stalks are scarred by blade cuts. The bamboo bleeds sap when a duel is dishonorable. The sap is red. [DUEL]

4. Torii Gate (Processional) — A wooden gate standing alone on a cliff path. Walk through it, and the wind changes direction. The gate was built by a drowned mason. [THRESHOLD]

5. Cart Circle (Night Camp) — A ring of painted wooden carts, their wheels touching. Inside the circle, the Hollow cannot enter. Outside, the road waits. [COMMUNITY]

6. Tide-Charm Vault (Sea Cave) — A cave where processional bands store charms during the winter. The charms hum when the sea is angry. The cave is watched by a blind keeper. [MEMORY]

7. Storm Shrine (Peak) — A stone circle with bells that ring in the wind. Each bell has a different tone. The tones predict the weather. The shrine maiden reads them. [WEATHER]

8. Foam-Ford (Crossing) — A shallow channel that can only be crossed at low tide. The crossing lasts nine breaths. Count carefully. The ninth breath belongs to the sea. [TRAVEL]

9. Volcano Shrine (Dormant) — A crater where the name that sank the kingdom was spoken. The crater is warm. Speaking any name aloud here causes the ground to tremble. [MYSTERY]

10. Sake House of the Ninth Cup — A tavern at a crossroads, where duels are negotiated. The ninth cup is never poured. It is for the dead. The dead sometimes drink it. [SOCIAL]

11. Ancestor’s Salt Pan — A flat where seawater is evaporated to make salt. The salt is mixed with ash from funeral pyres. It tastes of grief. The widows sell it to remember. [LABOR]

12. The Sunken Gate — An underwater archway that leads to the drowned kingdom. It can only be reached by holding your breath for nine heartbeats. The gate is guarded by a spirit. [DEATH]

13. Procession Elder’s Lookout — A wooden tower on the highest cliff. From here, the Elder can see three storms coming. He has never been wrong. [WEATHER]

14. The Drowned Capital (Myth) — A sunken city said to rise once every century. Those who enter must share a breath with the dead. The dead are talkative. [LEGEND]

(Elder/Keeper/Ronin)

Procession Elder Kenji with a tally stick; Tide-Charm Keeper Yuki with an oiled pouch; Wandering Ronin with a sake cup.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Procession Elder — Gray-haired, sunburned, a tally stick in his belt. “The circuit is 108 shrines. I have walked it 99 times. The 100th will be my last.” [AUTHORITY]

3. Tide-Charm Keeper — A young woman with a leather pouch at her hip. She never swims. “My grandmother is in this pouch. She cannot get wet. When the storm comes, I whisper her name.” [MEMORY]

4. Tide-Hunter — A woman who hunts sea monsters. She has a harpoon made from a ship’s keel. She has never killed a monster. She has ridden nine of them. They recognize her whistle. [COMBAT]

5. Wandering Ronin — A man with no master, a scarred blade, and a cup of sake. He offers a cup to every opponent. “Drink. The duel will be fair. The loser carries the winner’s burden for a season.” [DUEL]

6. Shrine Maiden — A woman with a copper bell on a rope. She rings it at dawn. The bell’s tone tells the procession whether to walk or wait. It has never been wrong. [RITUAL]

7. Cart Builder — A silent craftsman who builds the painted carts. He uses no nails. “Nails are for coffins. The road does not forgive splinters.” The joints are held by counting songs. [CRAFT]

8. Wave-Walker — A woman who can walk on water during a storm. She does not know how. “The storm carries me. I just don’t fight it. The road is wet, but the road is still the road.” [MYSTIC]

9. Sake Brewer — A fat man with a wooden ladle. He brews sake from rice and seawater. “The salt makes it strong. The sea makes it honest. The dead like it. It helps them remember.” [TRADE]

10. The Hollow-Bound — A corrupted ancestor spirit speaking through a living host. It demands a name. It offers power. It takes memory. [THREAT]

11. Drowned Scholar (Ghost) — A translucent figure who haunts the Sunken Gate. He asks: “Has anyone spoken the name?” He will not say which name. He has been asking for a century. [DEATH]

12. Volcano Priest — A man who tends the dormant crater. He speaks only in whispers. “The name that sank the kingdom is still here. Do not ask what it is. The crater knows. It is waiting.” [MYSTIC]

13. The Ninth Wave’s Herald — A child who appears before every storm. She points at the horizon. She never speaks. She only points. The direction tells where the storm will hit. She has never been wrong. [OMEN]

14. The First Drowned (Legend) — The first Lethai-al who died in the sinking. She sits at the bottom of the sea. If you bring her a memory, she will teach you to breathe water. The memory must be your own. [LEGEND]

(Duel/Pirate/Ashfall)

A duel challenge is issued — refusal loses face; a pirate flotilla claims the strait — pay toll or fight; ashfall from the volcano — all actions Desperate.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. Duel Challenge (Issued) — A Lethai-al challenges a party member to a duel. Refusal loses face. [SOCIAL] The duel is to first blood. The loser carries the winner’s burden for a season, or shares a story to mend the road.

3. Pirate Flotilla — Kalingan pirates block the strait. They will not let you pass without a tide-charm. [COMBAT] The charm must be from a drowned ancestor. Refuse, and they attack. The pirates count in nines.

4. Ashfall (Volcano) — The dormant crater emits ash. Visibility drops. All actions are Desperate. [WEATHER] The ash is warm. It smells of old names. Speaking a name makes the ash thicken.

5. Storm-Spirit Offended — A traveler insulted the wind. The storm-spirit demands amends. [OATH] What it wants is a promise about the sea. Break it, and the spirit drowns you.

6. Tide-Charm Stolen — Someone steals a pouch of charms. The ancestors are angry. [THEFT] The thief is a foreign merchant. The charms are in a cargo hold. The ship sails at dawn.

7. Drowned Capital Rising — The sunken city emerges at low tide. Spirits walk the streets. [DEATH] They ask for news of the surface. Lies will anger them. Truths will sadden them. Both are dangerous.

8. Volcano Name Whispered — Someone speaks the forbidden name near the crater. The ground shakes. [DISASTER] The speaker is a child. The child did not know. The volcano remembers. It will not forget.

9. Ninth Wave Warning — The full moon is tomorrow. The ninth wave will be larger than any in a century. [WEATHER] The fishing fleet cannot be recalled in time. Someone must warn them. The wave is already forming.

10. Sake House Brawl — A dispute over a duel’s fairness turns violent. The ninth cup is poured. [COMBAT] The ninth cup is for the dead. Someone has just died. The brawl is now a blood feud.

11. Sunken Gate Opens — The underwater archway becomes passable. Something swims out. [DEATH] It is a drowned spirit. It wants its name back. It carries a secret. Give it what it wants, and you will learn the truth.

12. Procession Elder’s Silence — The Elder stops reading the weather. The band does not know where to walk. [CRISIS] He is grieving. His son was lost at sea. He will not speak until the body is found.

13. Duel to the Death (Betrayal) — A duel that was meant to be to first blood becomes a killing. [COMBAT] The killer is a spy from Ashaan. The duel was an assassination. The party is blamed.

14. The Ninth Wave Takes — The massive wave crashes over the cliff shrine. The bells are silent. [APOCALYPSE] The shrine maiden is gone. The storm-spirit is free. The Hollow walks the shore.

(Charm/Arrow/Cup)

Storm-charm (one weather bypass); broken arrow (proof of oath); sake cup (right to demand a fair duel).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Storm-Charm — A bone carved with wave patterns. Use it to ignore one weather penalty on a journey leg. [WEATHER] The bone is from a sailor who died in a storm. His spirit protects you. He asks for a story to carry.

3. Broken Arrow (Oath-Proof) — A snapped arrow shaft. Present it to prove an oath was fulfilled. [SOCIAL] The arrow was broken by a duelist who lost fairly. It carries his honor. It is warm to the touch.

4. Sake Cup (Duel Right) — A ceramic cup used in a fair duel. Present it to demand a duel to first blood. [SOCIAL] The cup is chipped. The chip is from a blade that drew first blood. The loser bears the burden.

5. Tide-Charm (Leather Pouch) — A small pouch containing a drowned ancestor’s name on a shell. [MEMORY] Whisper the name to calm a storm for one hour. The ancestor will remember. Tick Hollow Timer +1.

6. Procession Pass (Wooden Plaque) — A carved name-tag. Grants safe passage with any Lethai-al band. [TRAVEL] The name is a dead ancestor. The band will recognize it. They will feed you.

7. Shrine Maiden’s Bell (Copper) — A copper bell. Ring it to pacify a storm-spirit for one scene. [RITUAL] The bell’s tone is unique. The spirit will recognize it. It may ask for another promise.

8. Volcano Priest’s Whisper — A single word: the name that is forbidden. Speak it to cause a tremor. [MAGIC] The word burns the tongue. Use it once. The volcano will remember. The ground will crack.

9. Wave-Walker’s Sandal — A single sandal woven from sea grass. Wear it to walk on calm water for one minute. [TRAVEL] The sandal will not get wet. Your foot will. The water is cold.

10. Drowned Captain’s Oar — A skeletal oar that weighs nothing. Use it to row any boat against the current. [TRAVEL] The captain’s ghost will row with you. He will ask for a story. He knows if it is true.

11. Ninth Wave’s Shell — A white shell found on the Ninth Wave’s Rock. It contains a memory. [MEMORY] Break it to experience the memory. The memory is always a death. The death is always a drowning.

12. Procession Elder’s Flute — A bone flute. Play it to predict the weather for the next 24 hours. [WEATHER] The tune is sad. It always predicts a storm. It is always right. The storm will find you.

13. Sunken Gate Key (Coral) — A piece of coral shaped like a key. Opens the Sunken Gate. [DEATH] The key is alive. It grows. It will only fit the gate once. The gate will remember your face.

14. First Drowned’s Breath (Glass Vial) — A vial of seawater from the bottom of the sunken capital. [LEGEND] Drink it to breathe water for one hour. The taste is salt and sorrow. Your lungs will ache.

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 (charms, arrows, cups) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo processional omens—a gate that creaks without wind, a cart wheel that turns backward, a name that echoes from the sea.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Processional Circuit: The Lethai-al walk a circuit of 108 shrines. A character who walks the circuit (over several sessions) may, at the end, gain +1 die to all rolls involving storms, spirits, or the sea. The circuit takes nine months. A character who completes the circuit nine times becomes a Procession Elder.

• Walking Court (Crossroads Justice): When two Lethai-al dispute, they settle it at a crossroads. Each party speaks their truth once. Then they walk away in opposite directions. The road decides. A character who lies at a crossroads gains the condition Wave-Walker’s Shame (-1 die to all social rolls until they walk the circuit again).

• Storm-Reading: Once per journey, a character with Lethai-al training may predict the weather for the next 24 hours (Wits + Lore vs. DV 3). On success, choose one leg to ignore weather penalties. On a miss, the storm finds you anyway, and the GM gains 1 Story Beat to spend on a thunderclap or flash flood.

• Tidal Resilience: Once per scene, when a character would take Harm from a water-based or storm-based effect, they may reduce it by 1 level (to a minimum of 0). Mark 1 Fatigue.

• The Eastern Ninth (Hollow in Salt Foam): When a Lethai-al drowns, their name becomes a tide-charm. Living kin may whisper it to calm a storm, but the Hollow remembers. At the next full moon, the Hollow draws closer. The Hollow’s attention ticks whenever a tide-charm is used.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• Tide-Charms and the Tulkani (Way of Silk): Tulkani story-tellers sometimes carry Lethai-al tide-charms as proof of a witnessed drowning. A charm can be traded for a story that the Tulkani have not heard. The story must be about the sea.

• Storm-Spirits and the Veiled Sisters (Ashaan): The Veiled Sisters have tried to bind storm-spirits for use in their fleet. The Lethai-al have foiled nine attempts. A Procession Elder may ask the party to sabotage a Sister’s ritual.

• The Drowned Capital and the Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara): The sunken city is said to contain a temple that holds a fragment of the demon Varash. The amulet’s creator visited the capital before it sank. The fragment whispers the forbidden name.

• The Ninth Wave and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Hollow’s Oath-Keepers ride the ninth wave. Lethai-al who survive the ninth wave are said to walk beyond the Hollow’s reach. Aelaerem leave offerings of salt at the high tide line to greet the wave.

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

• Bread to the Foam: Crumble a crust at the water’s edge. Ignore the first Pirate Flotilla penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Rope: Tie a single knot in a shrine climbing rope. Cancel Storm-Spirit Offended or take –1 die on your next sailing roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Wave: Whisper a drowned ancestor’s name into the ninth wave. Gain +1 Effect when navigating a storm this scene, but mark 1 Fatigue. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from storm-spirits or pirate scouts.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby shrine maidens or duelists.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for tide-hunters or the Hollow.

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

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Procession Elder or shrine maiden becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to ashfall or rising tide.

• Foe Appears: A pirate crew or a storm-spirit 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 pirates, storm-spirits, or volcanic ash clouds arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—duel becomes death/storm shifts/sunken gate opens.

• 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: Procession Elder Kenji, Drowned Captain, or Ninth Wave Herald intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—volcano erupts/storm breaks/sunken capital rises.

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

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

Region-Specific SB Options

• Lethai-al (Processional Law): A torii gate creaks, a cart wheel turns backward, a name echoes from the sea.

• Lethai-al (Duel Law): Blades glow faintly, spilled sake steams, the first drop of blood evaporates.

• Lethai-al (Drowned Law): A name appears in wet sand, a wave carries a message, a drowned face looks up from still water.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

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

• Weather the Storm (Endurance + Survival): On a hit in Storm-Spirit Offended, you pick who is struck by lightning; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Wave & Procession)

• The Name-Eater (Nine Drownings) — Phases: Tide-Charms Stolen → Orchestrated Storm → Drowned Coup. Cracks: recover a stolen charm, expose a false ancestor, survive the ninth wave.

• The Unforgotten Storm (Spirit of the Ninth Wave) — Phases: Waves Rising → Procession of Empty Shrines → Foam-Baptism of a Storm-Reader. Cracks: relic storm-charm, survivor testimony, the ninth wave breaking on a calm sea.

Among the Lethai-al, power flows through the procession, the road, and the memory of the drowned. A Procession Elder’s word is law because he has walked the circuit more than anyone else. A Tide-Charm Keeper holds the names of the dead; she can calm a storm or call one. There are no kings, no courts, no written laws — only the road, and the road does not negotiate.

For the GM: Power in Lethai-al society is measured in shrines visited, storms survived, and tide-charms kept. Patronage often takes the form of storm-charms, broken arrows, or processional passes — each marked by a specific ancestor, duel, or shrine. To emphasize the cultural mechanics:

• Use Processional Circuit as a long-term character goal. Completing it is a major achievement.

• Enforce Walking Court — a character who lies at a crossroads suffers social penalties until they make amends.

• Let Storm-Reading be a journey-saving ability, but with a risk of additional complications.

• Track the Hollow’s Attention when tide-charms are used. The Oath-Keepers may appear at the worst moment.

In Lethai-al society, the sea forgets nothing — and the ninth wave remembers every name.

Lethai-ar of Ayokha

The River-Bound Oath-Keepers.

A witness cord is not a leash. It is a mirror. If you speak truly, you see yourself. If you lie, you see what you could have been. I have cut two cords in my life. I still dream of the faces in the silk. The river remembers every word spoken on its banks. We are merely the scribes.

My lamp has burned for nine years without being refilled. The flame is green. It flickers when a merchant lies about the weight of his silk. The river does not need oil. It needs witnesses. I sit on this wharf and watch. That is my offering.

The Lethai-ar of Ayokha are the living bridges between mortals and the river spirits that launder the world’s promises. Their ancestors were river-folk that ascended to the realm of the fair folk, and they now walk the middle path, a step between bodies of water and the world of men. They keep lanterns that never go out, record every contract spoken on the monsoon wharves, and bind their vows with silken cords dyed in river mud. Unlike their northern kin who swore to distant deities, the Lethai-ar serve Benzaiten (the river of words) or Inari (the fox’s ledger). Their vows are physical cords, braided from their own hair and dyed with river mud. When a vow is fulfilled, the cord is burned. When it is broken, the cord tightens around the oath-breaker’s wrist until blood is drawn. The Ayokhan taboo against the ninth cup is enforced by the Lethai-ar: the ninth cup is for the river spirits, and pouring it is an invitation to the Hollow.

Never pour the ninth cup of tea or sake in a Lethai-ar’s presence. The ninth cup is for the witness. Pour it, and you have invited the river to judge you. The river is not merciful.

— Vigil Lady Suyin, who has cut nine witness cords — the ninth was her own

What you notice first: The smell of river water and oiled silk. The way every Lethai-ar carries a small oil lamp, even at noon. The constant murmur of contracts being witnessed — a merchant’s promise, a captain’s oath, a lover’s vow.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never pour the ninth cup of tea or sake in a Lethai-ar’s presence. The ninth cup is for the witness. Pour it, and you have invited the river to judge you. The river is not merciful.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Witness Cord

Power here is measured in lanterns kept lit, cords tied, and the number of oaths witnessed. The Lethai-ar have no army, no treasury, no territory. They have the river, and the river remembers everything. Every contract in Ayokha requires a Lethai-ar witness to be legally binding. The God-King’s astrologers may set the calendar, but the Lethai-ar hold the ledger. Their neutrality is absolute: they will witness a vow between enemies as readily as between allies. The price of a witness cord is not silver — it is a promise to keep the river clean, to light a lamp at dusk, to speak no word that cannot be unsaid.

Starting Location

A monsoon wharf on the great river, where silk barges are being loaded. A Vigil in gray robes holds a lantern of green flame: “The merchant and the captain have made a vow. The captain says the silk is eight bales. The merchant says it is nine. The witness cord is tied. It will tighten around the liar’s wrist. I do not need to know who is lying. The cord will tell me. But you — you are not bound. Watch. Learn. And do not pour the ninth cup.”

The Almanac of Ordinary Days (Lethai-ar of Ayokha)

What do people eat for breakfast? Rice porridge with river fish — the fish are caught in the sacred currents, and the bones are returned to the water as an offering. The porridge is salted with evaporated river brine. It tastes of memory.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To tie the eight witness knots. Each knot represents a clause of a fair contract. The ninth knot is never tied — it is left for the river to judge. A child who ties the ninth knot is taken to the step-pyramid and made to watch the green flame until they can recite every oath their family has ever sworn.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their lamp. A Lethai-ar’s lamp is a public record of their witness. A stranger whose lamp burns green has kept every oath. A stranger whose lamp flickers has witnessed a broken vow. A stranger whose lamp is dark has been cut from the Vigil. Do not speak to them. The river may be listening.

What is the most common crime? Cord-forging — creating a false witness cord that mimics the dye of a respected Vigil. The forger is not executed. Their hands are bound with a cord that tightens each time they speak. If they never lie, the cord will eventually loosen. If they lie once, it will cut.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The First Cord was not woven by a Lethai-ar. It was found — already knotted, already witnessing — floating down the river on a broken barge. No one knows who tied it. No one knows what oath it witnessed. The cord is kept in a lead-lined box at the bottom of the Well of Broken Oaths. The box is warm. The cord is still waiting.

Where do people go when they die? To the green flame. The dead are cremated, and their ashes are mixed with lamp oil. The oil is poured into the Vigil lanterns. The dead become the light. The light witnesses. The light does not lie.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a new cord — woven from your own hair, dyed with your own blood. The cord is tied between you and the wronged party. If the cord tightens, you are not forgiven. If it loosens, you are. If it breaks, the river will decide your fate. The river is patient.

What is the most important festival? The Reckoning of the Cords (spring). All witness cords that have been cut or broken are taken from the Well of Broken Oaths and burned in a barge on the river. The smoke rises. The river spirits watch. If a cord does not burn, the oath it witnessed is still unpaid. The debtor has one more year. If the same cord fails to burn twice, the Hollow comes.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The God-King’s own witness cord is a forgery. He swore a vow to protect the Lethai-ar nine years ago. His cord was cut the next day. The Vigil knows. They have not told anyone because the cord that cut his was their own. The ninth cord that Lady Suyin cut was the king“s. She has been waiting for him to break his oath ever since. He will. They always do.

Lethai-ar (Ayokha)

Key Demographics: Lethai-ar Capital City: Nakhon Phanom

Quick Reference

Tagline: The cord remembers. The river witnesses. The flame judges.

Vigil Lady Suyin (Elite): “A witness cord is not a leash. It is a mirror. If you speak truly, you see yourself. If you lie, you see what you could have been. I have cut two cords in my life. I still dream of the faces in the silk. The river remembers every word spoken on its banks. We are merely the scribes.”

Wharf-Witness (Commoner): “My lamp has burned for nine years without being refilled. The flame is green. It flickers when a merchant lies about the weight of his silk. The river does not need oil. It needs witnesses. I sit on this wharf and watch. That is my offering.”

Genre / Mood: Riverine legal drama, oath-magic, communal memory, spirit diplomacy.

Starting Location: A monsoon wharf on the great river, where silk barges are being loaded. A Vigil in gray robes holds a lantern of green flame: “The merchant and the captain have made a vow. The captain says the silk is eight bales. The merchant says it is nine. The witness cord is tied. It will tighten around the liar’s wrist. I do not need to know who is lying. The cord will tell me. But you — you are not bound. Watch. Learn. And do not pour the ninth cup.”

The Lethai-ar of Ayokha are the living bridges between mortals and the river spirits that carry the world’s promises. Their ancestors were river-folk that ascended to the realm of the fair folk, and they now walk the middle path, a step between bodies of water and the world of men. They keep lanterns that never go out, record every contract spoken on the monsoon wharves, and bind their vows with silken cords dyed in river mud. Unlike their northern kin who swore to distant deities, the Lethai-ar serve Benzaiten (aligned with The Witness) or Inari (aligned with The Traveler). Their vows are physical cords, braided from their own hair and dyed with river mud. When a vow is fulfilled, the cord is burned. When it is broken, the cord tightens around the oath-breaker’s wrist until blood is drawn (Harm 1). The Ayokhan taboo against the ninth cup is enforced by the Lethai-ar: the ninth cup is for the river spirits, and pouring it is an invitation to the Hollow.

What you notice first: The smell of river water and oiled silk. The way every Lethai-ar carries a small oil lamp, even at noon. The constant murmur of contracts being witnessed — a merchant’s promise, a captain’s oath, a lover’s vow.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never pour the ninth cup of tea or sake in a Lethai-ar’s presence. The ninth cup is for the witness. Pour it, and you have invited the river to judge you. The river is not merciful.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Witness Cord

Power here is measured in lanterns kept lit, cords tied, and the number of oaths witnessed. The Lethai-ar have no army, no treasury, no territory. They have the river, and the river remembers everything. Every contract in Ayokha requires a Lethai-ar witness to be legally binding. The God-King’s astrologers may set the calendar, but the Lethai-ar keep the chronicle. Their neutrality is absolute: they will witness a vow between enemies as readily as between allies. The price of a witness cord is not silver — it is a promise to keep the river clean, to light a lamp at dusk, to speak no word that cannot be unsaid.

Prominent NPCs of the Lethai-ar (Ayokha)

Names of the Lethai-ar (Ayokha)

Inspired by the river kingdoms and monsoon coasts: soft, flowing consonants, honorifics (Lady, Master). Surnames denote a river, a wharf, or a cord.

(Wharf/Temple/Cord-House)

A monsoon wharf with silk barges and green lanterns; a step-pyramid temple where the river spirit is honored; a cord-maker’s house with hanging strands of dyed silk.

Spades — Places

2. Monsoon Wharf (Central) — A stone pier where silk is loaded and oaths are witnessed. The pier is carved with the names of every oath kept. The names glow when a vow is fulfilled. [TRADE] [SOCIAL]

3. Step-Pyramid Temple (Benzaiten) — A stone pyramid rising from the riverbank. The top is a pool. The pool reflects not your face but the faces of those you have wronged. [SPIRIT] [TRUTH]

4. Cord-Maker’s House — A wooden building with silk strands hanging from the rafters. The strands are dyed in nine shades of brown. The ninth shade is made from grave mud. [CRAFT] [MAGIC]

5. Lamp-Keeper’s Shrine — A small stone hut with a single green flame. The flame has not gone out in three centuries. The keeper sleeps on a bed of ashes. [RITUAL] [COMMUNITY]

6. River Court (Floating) — A barge that serves as a mobile courthouse. The barge is anchored at a different spot each day. The river is the judge. [JUSTICE] [SOCIAL]

7. Vigil’s Archive — A cave behind a waterfall, filled with witness cords. Each cord is labeled with a date and an oath. The oldest cord is nine centuries old. [MEMORY] [LEGEND]

8. Silk Village (Mulberry Groves) — A village where silk is spun and cords are woven. The mulberry trees were planted by the first Vigil. Their leaves are sacred. [COMMUNITY] [TRADE]

9. Bridge of the Ninth Clause — A wooden bridge where contracts are signed. The ninth clause is always the same: “This oath is witnessed by the river.” [THRESHOLD] [LAW]

10. Well of Broken Oaths — A dry well where cut cords are thrown. The well is bottomless. The cords burn as they fall. The smoke smells of betrayal. [DEATH] [MEMORY]

11. The Oath-Broken’s Hut — A small shelter on the river’s far bank, away from the wharves. The exile lives here. She tends a single lamp. The flame is blue, not green. [SOCIAL] [MYSTERY]

12. River-Spirit’s Pool — A still pool behind the temple where Benzaiten’s messenger appears. The pool is warm. It whispers. The whispers are the stories of broken oaths. [SPIRIT] [TRUTH]

13. The God-King’s Witness Chamber — A hall where the king’s own oaths are recorded. The walls are covered in witness cords. The king has broken nine. The cords are still tight. [AUTHORITY] [JUSTICE]

14. The First Cord (Myth) — A silk strand said to be woven from the river’s first current. Whoever holds it can witness any oath anywhere. The price is a year of silence. [LEGEND] [TRUTH]

(Vigil/Cord-Maker/Spirit)

Vigil Lady Suyin with a green lamp; Cord-Maker Tama with silk-dyed fingers; the River-Spirit with wet hair and riverweed.

Hearts — People & Factions

2. Vigil (Lady Suyin) — Gray-robed, a green lamp at her hip. She never blinks when witnessing an oath. “The cord will tighten,” she says. “I do not need to watch. The river watches for me.” [JUSTICE] [SOCIAL]

3. Cord-Maker (Tama) — A woman with hands stained brown from river mud. She weaves silk and hair. “Each cord is a promise,” she says. “The color tells the weight. White for truth. Red for blood. Black for death.” [CRAFT] [TRUTH]

4. Lamp-Keeper (Hiro) — An old man with ash on his face. He tends the green flame. “If the flame goes out,” he says, “the river will forget every oath. I cannot sleep.” [RITUAL] [COMMUNITY]

5. River-Spirit (Benzaiten’s Messenger) — A woman in wet robes, her hair dripping riverweed. She speaks only in the voices of those who have broken oaths. “Remember your promise,” she whispers. [SPIRIT] [TRUTH]

6. Merchant of the Ninth Bale — A silk trader who always weighs his bales short by one. He has never been caught. His witness cord is tied by a Vigil he has bribed. [TRADE] [SOCIAL]

7. Captain of the Monsoon Ship — A woman with a brass earring and a scarred hand. She has never broken an oath. Her witness cord has nine knots. All are tight. [TRAVEL] [HONOR]

8. Oath-Broken Exile — A woman with a cut cord on her wrist. She sits apart from the wharf. “I cut a false cord,” she says. “I thought the merchant was honest. He was not. Now I wait.” [COMMUNITY] [REDEMPTION]

9. God-King’s Astrologer — A man who reads the monsoon and advises on oath timing. “Never swear an oath during an eclipse,” he says. “The river cannot see you.” [POLITICS] [WEATHER]

10. Lamp-Child (Apprentice) — A young girl learning to tend the green flame. She has never spoken. The lamp is her voice. The flame flickers when she is happy. [RITUAL] [INNOCENCE]

11. The Cut Cord’s Ghost — A translucent strand that floats through the archive at night. It follows the oath-breaker. It whispers the words of the broken promise. [DEATH] [FEAR]

12. River-Spirit’s Rival (Inari’s Fox) — A fox with nine tails, seen at the cord-maker’s house. It offers a deal: a cord that cannot break, in exchange for a memory. The memory must be sweet. [MAGIC] [TRICKERY]

13. The First Vigil (Legend) — A skeleton in gray robes, sitting at the bottom of the Well of Broken Oaths. She holds a cord with nine knots. The ninth knot is loose. Untie it, and she will speak. [LEGEND] [DEATH]

14. Benzaiten (The River of Words) — A voice heard from the step-pyramid’s pool. “Every word is a current,” it says. “Speak gently, or you will drown.” [PATRON] [TRUTH]

(Flood/Rumor/Curse)

The river floods — a bridge is swept away; a rival merchant spreads rumors of cursed silk; the nat of the well is offended — no one may draw water until appeased.

Clubs — Complications/Threats

2. River Floods (Bridge Swept) — The monsoon rises. The bridge is gone. The wharf is isolated. [WEATHER] [TRAVEL] The flood is not natural. A river-spirit is angry. An oath was broken upstream.

3. Rumor of Cursed Silk — A merchant claims that a bale of silk is cursed. Trade stops. [SOCIAL] [TRADE] The curse is a lie. The merchant wants to drive down prices. He will buy cheap.

4. Well-Spirit Offended — A traveler threw trash into the sacred well. The spirit refuses water. [SPIRIT] [DEBT] The spirit demands an apology. The apology must be an oath. The oath must be witnessed.

5. Witness Cord Cut (False) — Someone cuts a witness cord that was tied in good faith. [JUSTICE] [SOCIAL] The cutter is the Vigil’s own apprentice. She thought the oath was false. It was true.

6. Green Lamp Gutters — The eternal flame flickers. The Lamp-Keeper is dying. [RITUAL] [COMMUNITY] He has one day to train a successor. The successor is the party’s least likely candidate.

7. Cord-Maker’s Silk Poisoned — Someone dyes the silk with a solvent that weakens it. [CRAFT] [TRAP] The cords will break under pressure. The poisoner is a rival cord-maker.

8. River-Spirit Demands a Story — Benzaiten’s messenger appears. She asks for a broken oath. [SPIRIT] [TRUTH] She will not leave until someone confesses. The confession must be true.

9. God-King’s False Oath — The king swears a vow he does not intend to keep. The Vigil knows. [POLITICS] [JUSTICE] If she exposes him, the king will exile the Lethai-ar. If she stays silent, the cord tightens on her wrist.

10. Oath-Broken’s Redemption Attempt — The exile tries to rejoin the Vigil. She offers a true cord. [COMMUNITY] [SOCIAL] The cord is her own hair. Cutting it would kill her. The Vigil must decide.

11. The Ninth Cup Poured (By Mistake) — A stranger pours the ninth cup at a tea house. The Hollow comes. [DEATH] [FEAR] The Hollow asks: “Who poured this cup?” The stranger points at the party.

12. First Cord Found (Forgery) — Someone claims to have found the mythic First Cord. It is a fake. [LEGEND] [TRAP] The forger is the God-King’s astrologer. He wants to control all oaths.

13. River Changes Course — The river shifts overnight. The wharf is now on dry land. [WEATHER] [DISASTER] The river was offended by a broken oath. It will return when the oath is fulfilled.

14. Benzaiten Speaks (Judgment) — The river itself speaks from the step-pyramid pool. [PATRON] [DEATH] “Nine oaths have been broken this season. The ninth was yours. Keep your word or drown.”

(Lamp/Cord/Mirror)

Vigil lantern (social edge); silk witness cord (enforce any oath); monsoon mirror (reflects hidden intentions, one use).

Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage

2. Vigil Lantern — A small oil lamp with a green flame. Gain +1 die to social rolls in any Lethai-ar court. [SOCIAL] The flame flickers when someone lies. It also flickers when you lie.

3. Silk Witness Cord (Crimson) — A braided cord dyed with river mud. Use it to enforce any oath. [SOCIAL] [JUSTICE] The cord tightens when the oath is broken. It will not stop until blood is drawn or the promise is kept.

4. Monsoon Mirror — A polished brass disc. Reflects hidden intentions for one scene. [TRUTH] [SOCIAL] Hold it before a speaker. If they lie, the mirror fogs. The fog smells of river water.

5. Cord-Maker’s Needle (Bone) — A needle carved from a river-fish’s spine. Tie a cord without cutting the silk. [CRAFT] The needle can also cut a cord without making a sound. Use once.

6. Lamp-Keeper’s Ash — A pouch of ash from the green flame’s hearth. Throw it to calm a river-spirit. [SPIRIT] The ash is warm. It glows faintly. The spirit will recognize it.

7. River-Spirit’s Tear (Vial) — A vial of water from the step-pyramid pool. Drink it to recall a forgotten oath. [MEMORY] [TRUTH] The water tastes of iron. The memory is painful. The pain is the price.

8. Oath-Broken’s Cord (Cut) — A severed witness cord. Present it to demand a second chance from any Vigil. [SOCIAL] [REDEMPTION] The cord will re-tie itself if the demand is just. The sound is a whisper.

9. God-King’s Witness Seal — A golden seal. Commands a Lethai-ar to witness any oath, regardless of price. [AUTHORITY] [SOCIAL] The seal is heavy. It was stolen from the king’s chamber. He will want it back.

10. Bridge of the Ninth Clause Map — A chart showing every bridge where contracts can be witnessed. [TRAVEL] [LAW] The map is written on silk. The silk is a witness cord. Do not cut it.

11. First Cord Fragment (Silk Strand) — A piece of the mythic First Cord. Touch it to witness any oath without a cord. [LEGEND] [JUSTICE] The fragment burns after use. The oath is still binding. The river will remember.

12. Benzaiten’s Whisper (Shell) — A river shell that contains the voice of the river-spirit. [TRUTH] [SPIRIT] Once, ask the river one question. The answer will be true. The river will remember the favor.

13. The Cut Cord’s Ghost (Bottle) — A ghost of a broken oath sealed in a glass jar. [DEATH] [SOCIAL] Release it to haunt an oath-breaker. The ghost will whisper the broken promise until the oath is fulfilled.

14. The River’s Pardon — A scroll signed by Benzaiten herself. Voids any oath, any witness cord. [LEGEND] [JUSTICE] The scroll is wet. It will never dry. The river will ask for a new oath in exchange.

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 (lanterns, cords, mirrors) that change Position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo river-omens—water that flows upstream, a lamp that burns green without oil, a cord that ties itself.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Witness Clause: Once per session, when you are present for an oath or contract, you may declare yourself a witness. That oath gains +1 DV to break, and if broken, the oath-breaker must grant you a personal favor (in addition to any other penalty). The witness cord glows faintly for the duration. Mechanical Note: Player gains 1 Boon if they witness a truthful oath.

• Lantern of Attendance: You carry a small oil lamp (the Vigil lantern). As long as it burns, you cannot be surprised in social situations (the flame flickers when deception begins). If the lamp goes out, you lose this benefit for the scene. Refilling the lamp requires a minor offering (a prayer to Benzaiten, a coin in a river). Mechanical Note: Gain +1 Position on social rolls involving deception detection.

• Silk Token: Once per arc, you may offer a witness cord as a token to a faction or NPC. While they hold it, you gain +1 die to all social rolls against them, but they may also call on you to witness one of their own oaths (refusing costs the token and 1 Fatigue). Mechanical Note: Treat as a String asset.

• The Ninth Cup Taboo: In Ayokha, the ninth cup of tea or sake is never poured. Pouring it invites the Hollow to witness the conversation. The Lethai-ar enforce this taboo strictly; a character who pours the ninth cup gains the Hollow’s Attention (advance the timer by 1 segment) and must succeed on a Spirit + Endurance test (DV 3) or forget the next minute of conversation. Mechanical Note: Banks 1 Story Beat for the GM.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • Benzaiten — Aligned with The Witness. The river of words; every oath flows to her.

  • Inari — Aligned with The Traveler. The fox’s shadow; contracts are paths, and paths must be witnessed.

  • The Green Flame — Aligned with The Sealed Gate. The lamp that never goes out; the threshold between truth and lie.

  • The Ninth Current — Aligned with Khemesh. The depth beneath the words; the weight of unspoken promises.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• Witness Cords and the Covenant (Mykkiel): The Covenant recognizes Lethai-ar witness cords as legally binding. A Vigil may be called to testify in a Covenant court; her cord is admissible as evidence.

• Silk Cords and the Sidhi (Way of Silk): Sidhi freedmen sometimes carry Lethai-ar witness cords as proof of emancipation. A cord from a respected Vigil is worth more than a freedman’s seal.

• The River Spirit and the Ukwe (Sekogo): Benzaiten’s river is said to flow from the Ukwe’s roots. A Lethai-ar who visits the Ukwe can read the water’s memory without a context key.

• The Ninth Cup and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Hollow’s Oath-Keepers are attracted to the ninth cup. Aelaerem hedge-keepers never pour a ninth cup in a Lethai-ar’s presence; they pour the ninth cup into the ground instead.

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

• Bread to the River: Crumble a crust into the current. Ignore the first River Floods penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Cord: Tie a single knot in a witness cord before using it. Cancel Witness Cord Cut or take -1 die on your next oath (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Lamp: Whisper a dead Vigil’s name into the green flame. Gain +1 Effect when witnessing an oath this scene, but mark Obligation to Benzaiten. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Vigils or river-spirits.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby lamp-keepers or cord-makers.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for oath-breakers or the Hollow.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or standing with the Vigil.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local Vigil or wharf-master becomes aware and begins responding.

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

• Foe Appears: An oath-breaker’s ghost or a rival cord-maker 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 Vigils, river-spirits, or Hollow agents arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—cord cut/lamp out/river changes course.

• 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: Vigil Lady Suyin, River-Spirit, or Benzaiten’s voice intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—wharf floods/temple cracks/cords tighten everywhere.

• 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

• Lethai-ar (Witness Law): Green flames flicker in unison, cords glow, a river’s current reverses.

• Lethai-ar (Cord Law): A witness cord tightens without cause, a knot unties itself, a cut cord re-knots.

• Lethai-ar (River Law): Water levels rise without rain, a fish speaks a name, the ninth cup pours itself.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

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

• Weather the Flood (Body + Athletics): On a hit in River Floods, you pick who reaches high ground; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Cord & River)

• The Cord-Cutter (Nine Broken Oaths) — Phases: Witness Cords Severed → Orchestrated Perjury → Vigil Coup. Cracks: re-tie a cut cord, expose a false Vigil, survive a night in the Well of Broken Oaths.

• The River-Dryer (Benzaiten’s Wrath) — Phases: Water Levels Dropping → Procession of Empty Wharves → Flood-Baptism of a Merchant. Cracks: relic river water, survivor testimony, the green flame burning without oil.

Among the Lethai-ar of Ayokha, power flows through witness cords, lantern flames, and the memory of the river. A Vigil’s authority rests on the number of oaths she has witnessed and never broken. The lamp is the symbol of that authority; a Vigil without a lamp is not a Vigil.

For the GM: Power in Lethai-ar society is measured in cords tied, lamps kept lit, and oaths witnessed. Patronage often takes the form of lanterns, witness cords, or mirrors — each tied to a specific Vigil, wharf, or contract. To emphasize the cultural mechanics:

• Use the Witness Clause to create social dilemmas: should the party witness an oath that might be broken?

• Enforce the Lantern of Attendance — a party member who carries a Vigil lantern gains social advantages but must maintain the flame.

• Let Silk Token be a form of communal currency: a witness cord given to a faction creates a mutual obligation.

• Track the Ninth Cup Taboo as a source of Hollow Attention. A single mistake can summon an Oath-Keeper.

In Lethai-ar society, the river forgets nothing — and the witness cord remembers every word.

Lethai-thora of Sihai

The Silent Ledgers.

We do not burn the dangerous scrolls. We bury them in plain sight, on shelves where no one thinks to look. The Emperor’s Censor once stood in our archive and asked for a tax ledger. We gave him one. He did not notice the shelf behind him held the true history of his own grandfather’s death. Silence is not emptiness. It is a door that opens only inward.

My grandmother tied this scroll with a silk cord. The cord has nine knots. The ninth knot is a secret she never told me. When I die, I will tie a tenth. Someone will untie it in a century. They will learn why the emperor’s concubine wept on the night of the lantern festival. Some secrets are too heavy for one lifetime.

The Lethai-thora were once courtiers of a celestial fey realm that spanned the Valewood and the eastern hills. When the old fey courts fell — when the Alder King withdrew and the Hazel Queen sealed her gates — many Lethai-thora fled east. They crossed the mountains with nothing but armfuls of scrolls and the memory of a civilisation that had forgotten how to die.

In the fertile river valleys of what would become Sihai, they found scattered agrarian tribes fighting over water and silence. The Lethai-thora did not conquer. They taught. They taught the tribes to write contracts instead of drawing blood, to measure grain instead of stealing it, to record debts instead of nursing grudges. Over generations, the tribes became a kingdom, the kingdom became an empire, and the empire became Sihai. The Lethai-thora became its memory.

Now they dwell in hidden pavilions, preserving ”forgotten ledgers“ that record what the Mandate of Heaven prefers to forget. Their knowledge is a burden: each secret they preserve slowly erases a piece of themselves. A Lethai-thora who guards a forbidden truth may find that she can no longer recall the color of her mother’s dress — a small price, she says, for keeping the ledger whole. They are no longer fey. They are no longer fully human. They are something in between: scribes of a story that has no ending, archivists of a past that never quite happened.

Never touch a scroll without announcing your lineage. Even a false lineage is better than silence. The scrolls remember who opened them, and they will whisper your name to the Hollow.

— Keeper Lian, who has not spoken aloud in twenty years — she writes on water

What you notice first: The smell of old parchment and incense. The way scrolls are stacked with their spines facing the wall — so the words cannot see who reads them. The silence when a secret is spoken; even the insects stop chirping.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never touch a scroll without announcing your lineage. Even a false lineage is better than silence. The scrolls remember who opened them, and they will whisper your name to the Hollow.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Forgotten

Power here is measured in scrolls sealed, secrets kept, and the length of a silence. The Lethai-thora have no king, no army, no treasury. They have archives, and the archives are their fortress. The Emperor’s Censorate fears them because they cannot audit a secret that has no ink. The Mandate of Heaven is written in public; the Lethai-thora keep the unwritten ledger — the one that records why dynasties fall. They are not rebels; they are witnesses. And a witness who never speaks is the most dangerous kind.

Starting Location

A hidden pavilion behind a waterfall, where scrolls are stacked to the ceiling and the air is dry as bone. A Keeper of the Seventh Gutter looks up from a brass lamp: ”The Emperor’s Quiet Chancellor has sent a messenger. He wants a scroll that does not exist. He wants the truth about his mother’s death. The truth is written in water. It will vanish if we speak it. But you — you are not bound by our silence. Will you carry a memory for us?“

The Almanac of Ordinary Days (Lethai-thora)

What do people eat for breakfast? Rice porridge with dried fish — the fish are smoked over fires fed with old scrolls. The smoke smells of forgotten contracts. The porridge is always lukewarm. The archives are never truly warm.

What does a child learn before they can walk? To read without moving their lips. A Lethai-thora child who whispers a secret aloud is sent to sit in the Chamber of the Ninth Scroll until they learn that silence is a shield. Some children never come back. They become scribes of the empty shelves.

What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their ink-stained fingers. A Lethai-thora has ink under every fingernail. A stranger whose fingers are clean has never copied a forbidden text. A stranger whose fingers are stained black has copied too many. A stranger whose fingers are stained red has copied a death warrant — their own.

What is the most common crime? Context key theft — stealing the carved stone that unlocks a scroll’s meaning. The thief is not punished by law. They are given a blank scroll and told to write their own confession. The scroll will fill itself if the thief lies. The ink is their own blood.

What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Ninth Scroll is not a scroll. It is a memory so dangerous that nine different keepers each sealed a fragment of it in their own minds. When the ninth keeper dies, the memory will be lost forever — or will escape.

Where do people go when they die? To the Well of Forgotten Names. The dead are not buried. Their bodies are placed in the well, and the well swallows them. The water turns black. The black is the ink of their unwritten secrets. The well is bottomless. It is never full.

How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a silence — a period of total stillness, no breath, no heartbeat, no word. The silence is timed by a water timer. If you hold the silence for nine drops, you are forgiven. If you break it, you must speak the wrong aloud in the Chamber of the Ninth Scroll. The scroll will remember. The scroll does not forgive.

What is the most important festival? The Unrolling of the Ledgers (winter). Once a year, the keepers unroll a single forbidden scroll and read it aloud to each other — but they read it in a whisper, and only the walls hear. The walls remember. The walls do not judge. The festival ends with all nine keepers drinking ink from a silver cup. The ink is their own memory. The next year, they will have forgotten.

What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The emperor’s true lineage is recorded on a scroll that no living keeper has opened. The scroll is sealed with a cord tied by the first keeper. The cord has nine knots. The ninth knot is a lie — the emperor’s grandfather was not of the blood. The empire was founded by a concubine’s son. The scroll is warm. It is kept in the First Pavilion. The First Pavilion is invisible. Only those who have forgotten nine names can see it.

Lethai-thora — “The Silent Ledgers of Sihai”

Key Demographics: Lethai-thoraa Capital City: Linshu

Quick Reference

Tagline: We do not burn the dangerous scrolls. We bury them on shelves where no one thinks to look. Silence is not emptiness. It is a door that opens only inward.

Keeper of the Seventh Gutter (Elite): “We do not burn the dangerous scrolls. We bury them in plain sight, on shelves where no one thinks to look. The Emperor’s Censor once stood in our archive and asked for a tax ledger. We gave him one. He did not notice the shelf behind him held the true history of his own grandfather’s death. Silence is not emptiness. It is a door that opens only inward.”

Scroll-Binder (Commoner): “My grandmother tied this scroll with a silk cord. The cord has nine knots. The ninth knot is a secret she never told me. When I die, I will tie a tenth. Someone will untie it in a century. They will learn why the emperor’s concubine wept on the night of the lantern festival. Some secrets are too heavy for one lifetime.”

Genre / Mood: Bureaucratic melancholy, hidden history, silence as power.

Starting Location: A hidden pavilion behind a waterfall, where scrolls are stacked to the ceiling and the air is dry as bone. A Keeper of the Seventh Gutter looks up from a brass lamp: “The Emperor’s Quiet Chancellor has sent a messenger. He wants a scroll that does not exist. He wants the truth about his mother’s death. The truth is written in water. It will vanish if we speak it. But you — you are not bound by our silence. Will you carry a memory for us?”

The Lethai-thora were once courtiers of a celestial fey realm that spanned the Valewood and the eastern hills. When the old fey courts fell — when the Alder King withdrew and the Hazel Queen sealed her gates — many Lethai-thora fled east. They crossed the mountains with nothing but armfuls of scrolls and the memory of a civilisation that had forgotten how to die.

In the fertile river valleys of what would become Sihai, they found scattered agrarian tribes fighting over water and silence. The Lethai-thora did not conquer. They taught. They taught the tribes to write contracts instead of drawing blood, to measure grain instead of stealing it, to record debts instead of nursing grudges. Over generations, the tribes became a kingdom, the kingdom became an empire, and the empire became Sihai. The Lethai-thora became its memory.

Now they dwell in hidden pavilions, preserving forgotten ledgers that record what the Mandate of Heaven prefers to forget. Their knowledge is a burden: each secret they preserve slowly erases a piece of themselves. An Lethai-thora who guards a forbidden truth may find that she can no longer recall the color of her mother’s dress — a small price, she says, for keeping the ledger whole. They are no longer fey. They are no longer fully human. They are something in between: scribes of a story that has no ending, archivists of a past that never quite happened.

What you notice first: The smell of old parchment and incense. The way scrolls are stacked with their spines facing the wall — so the words cannot see who reads them. The silence when a secret is spoken; even the insects stop chirping.

The one rule that kills newcomers: Never touch a scroll without announcing your lineage. Even a false lineage is better than silence. The scrolls remember who opened them, and they will whisper your name to the Hollow.

Regional Mood: The Weight of the Forgotten

Power here is measured in scrolls sealed, secrets kept, and the length of a silence. The Lethai-thora have no king, no army, no treasury. They have archives, and the archives are their fortress. The Emperor’s Censorate fears them because they cannot audit a secret that has no ink. The Mandate of Heaven is written in public; the Lethai-thora keep the unwritten ledger — the one that records why dynasties fall. They are not rebels; they are witnesses. And a witness who never speaks is the most dangerous kind.

The Fledging of the Empire (Origin Story)

When the Valewood’s fey courts crumbled, a caravan of Lethai-thora refugees crossed the eastern passes. Their scrolls were water-stained, their children hungry, their memories already fraying. They found a patchwork of warring clans along the Sihon River — farmers who fought over silt, herders who stole each other’s sheep, chieftains who could not agree on a name for the season.

The Lethai-thora did not offer swords. They offered ink.

They taught the clans to write their disputes on clay, to seal them with witnesses, to let the record speak instead of the spear. A generation later, the first emperor rose — a man who had learned his letters from a Lethai-thora tutor. He did not forget. He built his capital around the Lethai-thora archive, and he decreed that no law could be written without a copy placed in their care.

The Lethai-thora have been part of Sihai ever since — embedded so deeply that they can no longer imagine leaving, even if they wanted to. They are the empire’s memory, but also its conscience, its secret-keeper, and its silent judge. Some among them resent this entanglement; they dream of returning to the Valewood, of hearing the old songs again. But the Valewood has changed. The fey courts do not answer. And the Lethai-thora have become something they never intended: the architects of a mortal empire.

Prominent NPCs of the Lethai-thora

Names of the Lethai-thora

Inspired by the central kingdom traditions: soft consonants, vowel endings, honorifics. Surnames denote an archive, a gutter, or a lineage.

(Archive/Chamber/Shrine)

A hidden pavilion with scrolls stacked to the ceiling; a brass lamp that never goes out; a shrine to the forgotten gods, covered in dust.

Places

2. Hidden Pavilion (Waterfall) — An archive behind a curtain of falling water. The water muffles sound. Secrets spoken here cannot be overheard — but the water remembers. [SECRECY]

3. Chamber of the Ninth Scroll — A locked room with a single blank scroll on a pedestal. The scroll is not blank. It is written in disappearing ink. The reagent is moonlight. [MYSTERY]

4. Well of Forgotten Names — A stone well where the Lethai-thora throw scrolls that are too dangerous to keep. The well is bottomless. The scrolls burn as they fall. The smoke forms faces. [DEATH]

5. Ink-Maker’s Studio — A cave with grinding stones and jars of pigment. The ink is made from crushed beetles, iron ore, and tears. The tears are the ink-maker’s own. [CRAFT]

6. Silent Scriptorium — A hall where scribes copy scrolls without speaking. They write with their left hands. Their right hands are for swearing oaths. [LABOR]

7. Context Key Archive — A vault of stones, each carved with a season and a place. A scroll cannot be read without the correct context key. The keys are scattered across Sihai. [TRAVEL]

8. Emperor’s Censorate (Monitoring Station) — A building near the archive, staffed by imperial spies. They pretend not to know about the hidden pavilion. The Lethai-thora pretend not to notice them. [AUTHORITY]

9. Bridge of Unspoken Names — A stone arch where the Lethai-thora whisper secrets to the river. The river carries the secrets to the sea. The sea does not tell. [RITUAL]

10. Shrine of the Silent Gods — A ruined temple where the old fey beings were once worshipped. The gods are not dead. They are waiting. The Lethai-thora leave offerings of ink. [LEGEND]

11. The Forgotten Ledger’s Vault — A subterranean room with a single iron door. The door has nine locks. The keys are held by nine different keepers. The ninth keeper is dead. [SECRECY]

12. Memory-Thread Chamber — A room where Lethai-thora weave their hair into cords. Each thread contains a memory. Cutting a thread releases the memory — and kills the keeper. [DEATH]

13. The Emperor’s Secret Archive (Hidden) — A duplicate archive built by a paranoid emperor. It contains the same scrolls as the Lethai-thora’s, plus the emperor’s own confessions. [AUTHORITY]

14. The First Pavilion (Myth) — Where the first Lethai-thora hid the first forbidden scroll. It is said to be invisible. Only those who have forgotten nine names can see it. [LEGEND]

(Keeper/Scribe/Chancellor)

Keeper Lian with a brass lamp; Scribe Wei with ink-stained fingers; the Quiet Chancellor with a sealed letter.

People & Factions

2. Keeper of the Seventh Gutter — Old, silent, writing on water with a reed brush. “The words vanish,” she says. “That is how I know they are true.” [JUSTICE]

3. Scroll-Binder (Wei) — A man with no shadow. He lost it to a scroll that ate his reflection. He ties silk cords around each scroll. The knots are the secrets. [CRAFT]

4. Ink-Maker (Hana) — A woman with stained hands and a jar of moonstone ink. “This ink only writes during an eclipse,” she says. “The next eclipse is in nine days.” [MAGIC]

5. Quiet Chancellor — An imperial censor in gray robes. He speaks in couplets. The first couplet is a greeting. The second is a threat. The third is a bribe. [POLITICS]

6. Memory-Weaver — A woman with a loom made of human hair. She weaves memories into cloth. The cloth is soft. It whispers the memory when you touch it. [ART]

7. Imperial Spy (Undercover) — A young man posing as a scribe. He has a hidden seal. He is looking for a scroll that names the emperor’s true father. He will pay. [DECEPTION]

8. Ghost of the Ninth Scroll — A blank scroll that floats through the archive at midnight. It weeps ink. The ink forms words. The words are a secret that killed its keeper. [DEATH]

9. Forbidden Scholar — A monk who was excommunicated for reading a scroll he should not have. His eyes are gone. He reads by touch. The scrolls burn his fingers. [TRAGEDY]

10. Silent Guard — A warrior who took a vow of silence to protect the archive. He communicates by writing on his own skin. His skin is full of scars. [COMBAT]

11. The First Keeper (Ghost) — A translucent figure in scholar’s robes, seen at the well. She asks: “What secret do you wish to forget?” The answer becomes a scroll. [MYSTERY]

12. The Censorate’s Interrogator — A man with a brass scale. He weighs truth and lies. His scale is balanced. He has never found a truth heavy enough. [AUTHORITY]

13. The Emperor’s Dreamer — A woman who dreams the emperor’s nightmares. She knows what he fears. She is kept in a locked room. The Lethai-thora want to free her. [MAGIC]

14. The Forgotten God’s Echo — A voice from the ruined shrine. It speaks in a language no one understands. The Lethai-thora say it is the last fey being. It is asking for a memory. [LEGEND]

(Scroll/Forgery/Witness)

A scroll is found to be a forgery — the party is blamed; a context key is missing — the scroll cannot be read; the Quiet Chancellor demands a witness to a secret.

Complications/Threats

2. Forged Scroll — A tax ledger is discovered to be a fake. The forgery is perfect. [DECEPTION] The forger is a Lethai-thora. The scroll is not a forgery — it is the original. The empire’s copy is wrong.

3. Missing Context Key — A scroll cannot be read without a specific stone. The stone is lost. [TRAVEL] The stone was stolen by the Censorate. They want to destroy the scroll.

4. Witness Demanded — The Quiet Chancellor asks the party to witness a secret exchange. [SOCIAL] If they agree, they become bound by the Lethai-thora’s silence. If they refuse, they are exiled from the archive.

5. Archive Fire (Accident) — A lamp falls. Scrolls burn. The smoke forms names. [DISASTER] The names are those of the keepers. One is yours.

6. Censorate Raid — Imperial inspectors arrive with a warrant. They have a list of forbidden scrolls. [AUTHORITY] The list is accurate. Someone inside the archive is a spy.

7. Memory-Thread Cut — A keeper’s memory-thread is severed. She forgets everything. [DEATH] The thread was cut by an assassin. The assassin wants a secret only she knew.

8. Silence Broken — A keeper speaks aloud for the first time in decades. The Hollow hears. [DEATH] The Hollow sends an Oath-Keeper. The Oath-Keeper asks: “What did you say?”

9. Ink of Truth (Forced Confession) — Someone poisons the ink well. Writing with it forces you to confess. [MAGIC] The poison was placed by the Censorate. They want to know where the forbidden scroll is.

10. Emperor’s Death (Succession Crisis) — The emperor dies. The Mandate wavers. The archive is vulnerable. [POLITICS] The new emperor will burn the scrolls. The Lethai-thora must hide them — or die.

11. Ghost of the Ninth Scroll Awakens — The blank scroll fills with ink. The ink is a name. [DEATH] The name is the next person to die. The name is yours.

12. The First Pavilion Appears — The mythic archive manifests. It is invisible to most. The party can see it. [MYSTERY] They are now witnesses to a secret that has been hidden for a thousand years. The Hollow will want it.

13. Censorate’s Interrogation — The party is arrested and brought before the brass scale. [AUTHORITY] The interrogator asks one question: “What did the Lethai-thora tell you?” The scale will know if you lie.

14. The Forgotten God Wakes — The voice from the shrine becomes a scream. The ground shakes. [LEGEND] The god wants its memory back. The memory is held in a scroll. The scroll is the Ninth Scroll.

(Scroll/Stone/Cord)

Forbidden scroll (one truth no one wants spoken); context key stone (unlocks one scroll’s meaning); memory-thread (a cord containing a secret).

Rewards/Leverage

2. Forbidden Scroll — A scroll sealed with silk cord. It contains one truth no one wants spoken. [TRUTH] Read it aloud, and the secret becomes known. The speaker will be hunted.

3. Context Key Stone — A carved stone. Unlocks the meaning of one specific scroll. [TRAVEL] The stone is warm. It glows when held near the correct scroll.

4. Memory-Thread (Silk Cord) — A cord woven from a keeper’s hair. Cut it to release a memory. [MEMORY] The memory is a secret. The keeper will forget it. The cutter will remember it.

5. Ink-Stone (Moonstone) — A jar of ink made from crushed moonstones. Writes only during eclipses. [MAGIC] The ink reveals truths that cannot be spoken. Use it to write a secret that will last.

6. Silence Token (Brass) — A small brass charm. Present it to demand a moment of silence in any court. [SOCIAL] During the silence, no one can lie. The truth will echo.

7. Keeper’s Lamp — A brass lamp that never goes out. The flame flickers when a lie is spoken nearby. [JUSTICE] The lamp also flickers when a secret is hidden in the room.

8. Quiet Chancellor’s Seal — A jade seal. Press it to any document to grant it imperial immunity from censorship. [AUTHORITY] The seal is a forgery. The Chancellor made it himself. It still works.

9. Scroll of Forgotten Names — A scroll that lists the names of everyone who has been erased from history. [TRUTH] Speak a name, and that person’s deeds become known. The Hollow will remember them too.

10. Ink-Maker’s Grinding Stone — A stone bowl. Grind any pigment into ink that writes the truth. [CRAFT] The truth cannot be erased. The ink will burn through lies.

11. Ghost’s Tear (Vial) — A vial of ink wept by the Ghost of the Ninth Scroll. [DEATH] Write a name with it, and that person will forget one secret. The secret is your choice.

12. First Pavilion’s Key (Invisible) — An invisible key that opens the mythic archive. [LEGEND] You cannot see the key. You can feel it. It is cold.

13. Emperor’s Nightmare (Scroll) — A scroll containing the emperor’s most feared secret. [TRUTH] Read it aloud to make the emperor confess — or to drive him mad.

14. Forgotten God’s Memory (Glass Shard) — A piece of green glass that hums. It contains a fragment of a fey god’s memory. [LEGEND] Once, touch it to learn a secret of the old world. The secret will cost a memory of equal weight.

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 (scrolls, stones, threads) that change position rather than call for a roll.

• If any A appears, echo ink-omens—scrolls that rustle in still air, a lamp that burns green, a forgotten name whispered from a shelf.

Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)

• Silence as Sanctuary: Once per scene, when asked a direct question, a character may spend 1 Boon to answer with silence. Treat Position as Dominant for resisting interrogation — but the GM gains 1 Story Beat (the silence has weight). In Lethai-thora halls, a silence is worth more than a thousand words.

• Context Keys: To read an old text or recall a forbidden history, you need three keys: place, season, and witness. Without all three, roll at disadvantage. A Lethai-thora may create a temporary Context Key by spending 1 Boon and describing a small ritual (lighting incense, touching a stone, speaking a name).

• The Keeper’s Toll: When using a Lethai-thora Rite or consulting a hidden archive, mark 1 Fatigue. The knowledge costs something — a moment of warmth, a pleasant memory, the scent of rain. Some keepers have forgotten how to smile.

• Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):

  • The Unwritten — The Witness. A secret that never needs to be spoken.

  • The Quiet Scale — Mykkiel. The law that weighs silence as heavily as testimony.

  • The Ink Father — Maelstraeus. The debt written in disappearing ink; the interest that accrues in forgetting.

  • The Echo of the First Pavilion — The Traveler. The path that leads only inward.

Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)

• The Ninth Scroll and the Kalrantha Amulet (Dhahara): The Ninth Scroll is said to describe the creation of the amulet — and the demon sealed within. The Veiled Sisters have been searching for it for centuries. The Lethai-thora have hidden it in plain sight.

• Silence Tokens and the Covenant (Mykkiel): The Covenant recognizes a Lethai-thora silence token as a valid request for a closed hearing. A silence token can pause any court proceeding for the duration of a single breath.

• Context Keys and the Ukwe (Sekogo): The Ukwe’s roots are a natural context key — they remember the season, the place, and the witness. A Lethai-thora who consults the Ukwe does not need to spend a Boon.

• Memory-Threads and the Hollow (Eastern Realms): The Hollow feeds on forgotten memories. A Lethai-thora’s memory-thread is a feast. The Oath-Keepers will cut a thread if given the chance.

• The Fledging of the Empire (Sihai): The Lethai-thora’s oldest scrolls still bear the water stains of the Valewood crossing. A keeper who unrolls one of these scrolls may glimpse a memory of the old fey courts — but the glimpse costs a year of her life.

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

• Bread to the Archive: Crumble a crust at the threshold. Ignore the first Archive Fire penalty. [SUPERSTITION]

• Knot the Scroll: Tie a single knot in a silk cord. Cancel Forged Scroll or take –1 die on your next forgery detection roll (your choice). [SUPERSTITION]

• Name to the Well: Whisper a dead keeper’s name into the well. Gain +1 Effect when recalling a forgotten fact this scene, but mark Obligation to the Lethai-thora. [SUPERSTITION]

Thematic SB Spend Table

Minor Complications (1 SB)

• Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from Censorate spies or imperial guards.

• Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby scribes or keepers.

• Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for memory-hunters or the Hollow.

• Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or access to an archive.

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

Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)

• Alarm Raised: Local keeper or Censorate agent becomes aware and begins responding.

• Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to flickering lamp or silent alarm.

• Foe Appears: A Censorate interrogator or a Oath-Keeper arrives on scene.

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

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

Serious Trouble (3 SB)

• Reinforcements: Additional Censorate agents, imperial guards, or Hollow spirits arrive.

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

• Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—scroll burns/thread cut/pavilion appears.

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

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

Major Turns (4+ SB)

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

• Authority Arrival: High Keeper, Quiet Chancellor, or Ghost of the Ninth Scroll intervenes.

• Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—archive floods/well overflows/first pavilion materialises.

• 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

• Lethai-thora (Silence Law): Lamps flicker without breeze, scrolls shuffle their own order, a whisper is heard from a sealed jar.

• Lethai-thora (Memory Law): A keeper forgets your face, a memory-thread glows, you recall a fact you never learned.

• Lethai-thora (Context Law): The season changes inexplicably, a stone context key warms, a witness appears who was not there.

Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)

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

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

• Weather the Interrogation (Endurance + Spirit): On a hit in Censorate’s Interrogation, you pick who is questioned; on a miss, the GM does.

Boss Seeds (Ink & Silence)

• The Scroll-Eater (Nine Forgeries) — Phases: Scrolls Burned → Orchestrated Erasure → Archive Coup. Cracks: recover a true scroll, expose a false context key, survive a night in the well.

• The Forgotten God (Memory Eater) — Phases: Voices from the Shrine → Procession of Blank Scrolls → Ink-Baptism of a Keeper. Cracks: relic memory-thread, survivor testimony, the first pavilion opening its doors.

Among the Lethai-thora, power flows through silence, ink, and the weight of a forgotten secret. A Keeper’s authority rests on how many secrets she has buried and how many she has forgotten. The archive is the fortress; the silence is the shield. Yet they are also entangled with the empire they helped create — the Censorate watches them, the Emperor needs them, and the common people fear them. The Lethai-thora can no longer leave Sihai, even if they wished. Their fate is bound to the Mandate of Heaven.

For the GM: Power in Lethai-thora society is measured in scrolls sealed, context keys held, and the length of a pause. Patronage often takes the form of forbidden scrolls, context stones, or memory-threads — each tied to a specific secret, archive, or keeper. To emphasize the entangled relationship with Sihai:

• Use the Silence as Sanctuary mechanic to create tense social scenes where a pause is a weapon.

• Require Context Keys to unlock ancient lore — the party must gather place, season, and witness before a scroll can be read.

• Let the Keeper’s Toll be a meaningful cost: fatigue, lost memories, or forgotten faces.

• Remind players that the Lethai-thora are not outsiders; they are the empire’s conscience. A Lethai-thora NPC may hold a secret about a PC’s family, or about the true cause of a war, or about a crime the emperor himself committed.

In Lethai-thora society, the ink forgets nothing — and the silence remembers everything.