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The Spaces Between
At the table: Shelter at the disputed ford
In Ubral, place a ford between households whose hospitality customs are strained by a recent incident. A host wants guests protected; a rival wants an explanation before anyone leaves.
Example preparation, not a fixed regional event. Use these names and sizes as a starting point; choose established triggers and completion stakes before play.
- Situation: Get the travelers to safe shelter [6].
- Counter-Clock: Armed kin reach the ford [4].
- Campaign: The neighboring households enter open feud [8].
An apology, evidence, or an alternate route can change the stakes. Distinguish immediate pursuit from the wider feud; do not tick both for the same hostile glance.
Keep at most these three active, and fewer when sufficient. Apply Three Clocks at the table for advancement and retirement. For a short prep sequence and Session Zero reminders, see Run a region. Agree which local themes belong in this campaign; the region’s darkest material need not be tonight’s focus.
“The Ways Between do not measure miles. They measure choices. A wrong turn might lead to yesterday. A right turn might lead to a version of yourself who made a different decision – and is still alive to regret it. The mist does not hide landmarks. It hides destinations.” — Dusana of the Raven Road, at a crossroads that did not exist on any map
Ubral
The Stone Between Spears.
The stone here remembers every oath sworn upon it and every blood spilled in its shadow. To lead is to understand that the land itself is the true sovereign, and we are merely its stewards.
I am a Hearth-Aunt. Hospitality’s a sacred thing in these hills—break bread at my table and you’re family till the sun sets twice. But cross that trust and the very stones will remember your name.
Ubral is a land of upland mists, stone cairns, and clan oaths held tighter than iron. Caught between the Aelerian mountains and the lowland courts of Viterra, its hills are scarred by old raids and crowned by watch-fires that speak faster than any rider. Here, law is written not in charters but in cattle, wergild, and songs; a guest’s word can buy more than a sword, but one broken vow can spark a feud lasting generations. But here’s the secret the Lady of Tor doesn’t want you to know: the cairns are not just markers. They are witnesses. Every stone in every cairn has a name. If you touch the right stone, you can hear the dead voting on the disputes of the living. The dead have long memories. They vote with the wind.
Viterra has tried to conquer Ubral a dozen times; each attempt ended with supply lines cut by reivers, passes sealed by Aeler outcast engineers, and lowland knights lost in mist. The Utaran Imperium itself broke its leg on these hills and limped away. Now the clans watch the lowlands with patient eyes, and the exiled Aeler of Khaz-Vurim weigh every traveler’s honesty on iron scales. A guest here is kin—until they prove otherwise. And kin here will die for you—or kill you over a stolen cow.
Never refuse a cup from a hearth-aunt. Hospitality is a contract sealed in salt and bread. Refusal is an insult that blood must answer.
— Hearth-Aunt Brigid, who has never drawn a blade and has never needed to
What do people eat for breakfast? Oatcakes and skyr—the oats are grown in highland clearings, the skyr is cultured in stone crocks buried in the peat. The peat is ancient. The peat remembers the old kings. The old kings are buried beneath it.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To count cattle. Ubral children are taught the eight breeds of the hills: Black, Red, White, Brindled, Dun, Gray, Spotted, and the ninth—the breed that has no color because it belongs to the cairn-folk. The cairn-folk are the dead. The dead do not pay taxes.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their guest-token. Every Ubral traveler carries a token—a stone, a bone, a braid of hair—given by their last host. A stranger whose token is warm has been recently welcomed. A stranger whose token is cold has been traveling long. A stranger with no token is a spy. Spies are given a token—a rope. The rope is for their neck.
What is the most common crime? Cattle raiding—but raiding is not a crime, it is a sport. The cattle are the wealth. The wealth is the clan’s. A stolen cow is a stolen child. The child must be returned. The return is a negotiation. The negotiation is a feud. The feud is a song.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Lady of Tor is not the ruler. The cairns rule. The cairns vote at each full moon. Their votes are carried by the wind. The wind speaks to the hearth-aunts. The hearth-aunts speak to the clan. The clan obeys. The Lady is the voice. The cairns are the vote.
Where do people go when they die? To the cairns. The dead are not buried. Their bones are added to the cairns. The cairns grow taller each year. The tallest cairn is the oldest. The oldest cairn has no name. The oldest cairn remembers the first clan.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a wergild—a payment in cattle, calculated by the wronged party’s estimate of their loss. The cattle are driven to the cairn. The cairn is the court. If the cattle graze peacefully, you are forgiven. If they scatter, you are not. If they refuse to enter the cairn’s shadow, your debt is blood.
What is the most important festival? The Gathering of the Clans (autumn). The clans meet at the Great Cairn. The cattle are counted. The songs are sung. The feuds are settled. The dead are named. The wind carries the names to the hills. The hills remember.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Great Cairn is not a cairn. It is a prison—the tomb of a Viterran king who tried to conquer Ubral and failed. He was buried alive, with his crown and his sword. His ghost votes with the cairns. He votes for war. The cairns have not yet agreed.
Ubral — “The Stone Between Spears”
Key Demographics: Humans Capital City: Dùn nan Clach
Entanglements
- To the West (via Viterra):
Vhasia – The mountain passes funnel exiles and mercenaries; the Sun Court’s Viterran entanglements offers opportunities for the saavy laird.
- To the South:
Viterra – The lowland tax collectors and the Queen’s justiciars claim suzerainty; the clans call it “ink on wet stone.” The cairns vote against the crown every season.
- To the North:
Aeler – The exiled dwarves of Khaz-Vurim maintain the toll-roads; the mountain’s breath is counted in iron. The under-passages are a source of wealth and danger.
- To the East:
The Dolmis Sea – Fishing villages and hidden coves trade in salt and secrets; the sea is a horizon, not a border. The cairns do not face the water; the dead do not swim.
Quick Reference
Tagline: The lowlands write their laws in ink. We carve ours in stone. The ink fades. The stone remembers.
Lady of Tor (Elite): “The stone here remembers every oath sworn upon it and every blood spilled in its shadow. To lead is to understand that the land itself is the true sovereign, and we are merely its stewards. The lowland kings write their claims on parchment. We write ours in cairns. And when the ink fades, as it always does, the cairns will still be here—waiting.”
Hearth-Aunt (Commoner): “Hospitality’s a sacred thing in these hills—break bread at my table and you’re family till the sun sets twice. But cross that trust and the very stones will remember your name. The Viterran tax men learned that. Their bones are under the sheepwalk now. We don’t forget. We don’t forgive. We weigh every slight in cattle and count every insult in winters.”
Genre / Mood: Highland clan honor, misty glens, wergild and blood feuds, exiled dwarves, geometry of grudges, Scottish folk horror.
Starting Location: A Warden’s Cairn at the fog line. Spears planted like grave markers, their shafts wrapped in faded clan ribbons. Hoofbeats echo in the valley below. The Hearth-Aunt offers a cup of small beer and a piece of oatcake. “The Wolf Road wakes,” she says. “Viterran tax men are asking which passes you used. The clans are counting your steps. Speak true, or the cairn will add your name to its tally. And mind the Aeler outcast in the smithy—he’s been here forty years and still forgets to duck under doorframes. He counts his breaths in eights. You should too. If you hear a woman washing clothes by the ford at midnight, do not ask her name. She is the bean-nighe, and she is washing the shrouds of the dead.”
Ubral is a land of knife-edged ridges, mist-veiled glens, dark lochs, and stone cairns that mark the bones of old kings. Caught between the Aelerian mountains to the north and the lowland courts of Viterra to the south, its hills are scarred by centuries of raiding and reprisal. The clans speak a tongue thick with swallowed consonants and older grudges. They measure wealth in cattle, honor in wergild, and time in the generations since a Viterran banner last burned in the high passes. To the east, the gray waters of the Dolmis Sea crash against rocky shores, where fishing villages pay tribute to whichever clan controls the nearest pass—and sometimes to a different one each season.
Exiled Aeler—dwarves who could not abide the Deep Vaults’ suffocating tradition—have found refuge here, sharing their cunning with forge and toll-road, and their outcast bitterness with any clan willing to listen. The lowland lords of Viterra claim suzerainty over Ubral; the clans call those claims “ink on wet stone.” Every pass holds a watch-fire, every ford a memory of a battle, every hearth a knife waiting for a guest who stays too long.
The clans do not fight for land. They fight for honor—a geometry of obligation that stretches back centuries. An insult is not forgiven; it is weighed. A wound is not healed; it is counted against a blood-price. Every death opens a new angle in the feud, every reconciliation closes one—but the shape is never forgotten. The Aeler outcasts, with their breath-counters and bell-codes, understand this geometry better than most. They call it Kon’reh: the game of exits and obligations, where the ninth move is never made.
The old folk still speak of the sluagh—the host of the unforgiven dead that flies through the night sky, snatching souls who have no cairn to call their own. They whisper of the baobhan sith, the blood-drinking woman who dances with travelers before draining them dry, and the each uisge, the water horse that lures the unwary onto its back and drags them into the loch. The clans leave offerings of iron nails at fords to ward off the kelpies, and they never cut the ninth stalk of heather for fear of waking the uruisg, the wild spirit of the glen.
What you notice first: The smell of peat smoke and wet granite. The constant lowing of cattle on distant hills. The way every threshold has a knife hidden nearby—for guests, not against them. The way old men trace patterns in the dirt with sticks, arguing over angles that only they can see.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never refuse a cup from a hearth-aunt. Hospitality is a contract sealed in salt and bread. Refusal is an insult that blood must answer. And never count to nine in a cairn’s shadow. The dead are counting with you, and they stop at eight.
What Players Actually Do Here
The Ubral highlands are about honor, feud, and survival. A party in Ubral will most often:
Settle or escalate feuds between clans, using wergild, guest-right, and cairn votes.
Travel through contested passes, negotiating tolls with Aeler outcasts and avoiding reivers.
Deal with the dead—cairns that speak, ghosts that count, and the Hollow’s attention.
Choose between honor and pragmatism, with consequences that echo through generations.
Key hooks:
The Wolf Road wakes. Viterran tax men are asking which passes you used. Which clan will you offend?
A Mac Tern groom cannot pay the wergild for an O’Creagh bride. The bride has fled to the Pass of Ashes.
A cairn on Three-Fires Ridge is weeping water that tastes of salt. The dead are agitated.
In Ubral, the ninth stone in any cairn is always warm. Touch it, and you will remember an oath you never swore. Those who touch the ninth stone three times are said to become a cairn themselves—silent, still, and waiting for the next hand. The Aeler outcasts say the ninth stone is a door to the Deep Vaults they fled. They do not touch it. They count to eight and leave.
The ninth step on any path that leads to a loch is said to belong to the each uisge. Those who step on it hear the sound of hooves beneath the water and feel a cold breath on their neck. If they take a ninth step into the water, the water horse will claim them.
Regional Mood: Cairn, Tor, and the Geometry of Grudges
Here, the past is never past. Every cairn holds a voice, every burn scar on a hillside remembers a raid. Viterra has tried to conquer Ubral a dozen times; each attempt ended with supply lines cut by reivers, passes sealed by Aeler outcast engineers, and lowland knights lost in mist. The Utaran Imperium itself broke its leg on these hills and limped away. Now the clans watch the lowlands with patient eyes, and the exiled Aeler of Khaz-Vurim weigh every traveler’s honor on iron scales. A guest here is kin—until they prove otherwise. And kin here will die for you—or kill you over a stolen cow. The Lady of Tor rules by consent of the Council of Cairns, and the Council speaks for the dead as much as the living. Every nine years, a moot is called at Gray Tor to settle the great feud—a dispute between the two oldest clans that no one can remember the origin of, but everyone remembers the blood.
The clans do not write their laws. They carve them—into stone, into memory, into the bones of their enemies. A feud is not a quarrel; it is a balance, an equation that must be solved in cattle or blood. A clan chief who cannot count the weight of an insult is a chief who will not last the winter. The Aeler outcasts, with their strange obsession for eights and their fear of the ninth breath, have found kindred spirits here. The clans count in eights too—eight cattle for a wound, eight winters for a grudge, eight generations for a blood-feud. The ninth is the Hollow’s share.
Along the eastern coast, the sea cliffs drop sheer into the Dolmis. Fisherfolk in black-hulled boats speak of drowned cairns beneath the waves—ancient stones that mark the graves of clans who lost everything to the sea. Some say the Hollow rises from those waters on the ninth wave of the ninth tide. The fisherfolk do not go out on the ninth tide. They tie knots in their nets and wait. In the dark glens, the bean-sidhe (banshee) keens when a chieftain is about to die. The clans do not fear her; they listen, for her cry is the only honest herald of what is to come.
The Clans of Ubral (A Highland Primer)
| Clan | Homeland | Feuds (Ancient) | Relationship with Viterra |
|---|---|---|---|
| Mac Tern | Gray Tor, upper Glen Tern | O’Creagh (blood feud) | Defiant; has never paid a lowland tax. Their cairn has nine notches—eight for victories, one waiting. |
| O’Creagh | Black Broom Bog, eastern fells | Mac Tern, Mac Gowan | Wary; accepts bribes but no garrisons. Their singers still compose verses about the cattle raid of ’03. |
| Mac Gowan | Khaz-Vurim Steps, western passes | O’Creagh | Pragmatic; trades iron for lowland silver. Their smiths learned the counting song from Aeler outcasts. |
| O’Ruarc | Bride’s Causey, southern marches | None active | Collaborator; factor in Valora is a cousin. The other clans call them “the lowland shadow.” |
| Mac Taggart | Three-Fires Ridge, northern heights | Mac Tern (old) | Neutral; sells beacon service to both sides. Their fires burn in eights—never nine. |
| O’Cahan | Pass of Ashes, far west | None | Isolationist; speaks to lowlanders only through Aeler outcasts. They keep the old cairns that no one else will tend. |
The Mac Tern–O’Creagh feud has outlasted every lowland king. Each has a cairn for every generation lost. No wergild has ever settled it; no marriage has ever bridged it. The Lady of Tor keeps the peace by reminding both that a Viterran judge would hang them all—and that the Hollow would thank her for it.
Faction Timers (Campaign Engines)
The Viterran Yoke [6] – Lowland crown’s creeping control. Advances when a chief accepts a Viterran title, the party enforces lowland law, or a garrison is established. Retreats when a tax collector is sent home empty (or headless) or a claim is exposed as fraud. On full: a Queen’s Justiciar arrives with a circuit court; lowland law becomes default. The cairns fall silent—the dead are watching.
Tor’s Hold [6] – Lady Uria’s personal authority. Advances when she wins a moot, brokers peace, or gains an ally. Retreats when she loses a feud or a client clan defects. On 0: she is deposed; civil war follows. The ninth cairn will have a new stone.
Ancestral Grudge [8] – The dead’s patience. Advances when oaths are broken, wergild unpaid, or cairns defiled. On 4: the dead grow restless—navigation rolls in Ubral gain +1 DV. On 8: a cairn-wight (an undead guardian of the stones) rises and demands blood. The dead do not negotiate. They count.
The Forge Weight [6] – Khaz-Vurim’s economic leverage. Advances when they secure toll contracts, sell iron, or gain a clan’s weight of obligation. On full: they can close a pass to enforce terms. Their iron is cold, but their memory is colder.
The Deep Road [8] – Aeler outcasts’ secret ambition. Advances as they survey, bribe, or blast. On 4: they find a promising route. On 8: construction begins on a dwarf under-way that would destroy several clan cairns. The mountain will remember. The party can stop it by exposing their plans, sabotaging their survey, or offering a better route.
Mac Tern’s Revenge [6] – Advances when Mac Tern suffers an insult or loses cattle. On 4: they call a moot to plan a raid. On 6: they launch a devastating raid. The raiders count their steps in eights and leave a single white stone at each burned stead—a promise.
O’Creagh’s Patience [6] – Retreats when O’Creagh is wronged. When it hits 0, they strike without warning. Their war-cry is a single word: Remember.
Wergild Price Table (Quick Reference)
| Insult (spoken) | 1 cow |
|---|---|
| Stolen sheep | 3 cows |
| Broken betrothal | 5 cows + a horse |
| Wounding (by severity) | 7–15 cows |
| Killing a clansman | 21 cows + a public apology |
| Killing a chief | 42 cows + a hostage |
| Breaking an oath sworn on a cairn | 9 cows—one for each face of the stone |
| Killing a guest under your roof | No wergild. Exile or death. The Hollow will collect. |
The Hollow’s Cairn (Legendary Site)
Hidden in the high mist, a ninth stone circle with no clan markings. The dead do not vote here; they listen. Once per arc, a character may climb the cairn and ask one question of the Hollow. The answer is always a weight.
Mechanics:
Spirit + Endurance (DV 6). Success: the GM answers truthfully (one sentence). Failure: the character gains the Condition Marked by the Hollow (the GM may spend 2 SB to have an Oath-Keeper appear). If the character counts to nine while on the cairn, the Hollow answers without being asked—and takes a memory.
Starting Hooks
The Wolf Road wakes: Viterran tax men are asking which passes you used. The clans are counting your steps. One clan has offered a bounty for the tax men’s heads—in cattle, not coin.
The Bride-Price Default: A Mac Tern groom cannot pay the wergild for an O’Creagh bride. The bride has fled to the Pass of Ashes. Retrieve her—or pay her price yourself. The groom has offered his sword. The bride’s clan wants his head.
The Toll-Master’s Burden: Khaz-Vurim has doubled tolls on the Steps. A clan chief suspects they are skimming to fund the Deep Road. Infiltrate the counting-house and find the hidden reckoning. The toll-master counts in eights. Do not let him reach nine.
The Cairn that Weeps: A shepherd reports that a cairn on Three-Fires Ridge is weeping water that tastes of salt. The dead are agitated. Find out why before the clan blames a rival. The water has a rhythm—eight drips, a pause, eight drips. Something is counting.
The Kelpie’s Ford: A child has gone missing near the ford of Loch Dubh. The elders say the each uisge has taken her. They offer a fortune in cattle to whoever can retrieve the child—or drive the water horse back to its dark loch.
Folk-Horror Bestiary of Ubral
The glens and lochs of Ubral are home to spirits older than the clans. Use these entries when the party wanders too far from the fire.
| Creature | Signs | Hook |
|---|---|---|
| Each Uisge (Water Horse) | Wet hoofprints steaming in moonlight; a beautiful horse or shaggy man by the loch. | Offer it a bridle of cold iron, and it will serve you once—then try to drown you. |
| Bean-Nighe (Washer at the Ford) | A woman washing shrouds at a ford at midnight. She has no face—only a hood of gray water. | If you see her, you have one day to live unless you can answer her riddle. She will trade a death omen for a story about a death you caused. |
| Baobhan Sith | A beautiful woman in a green dress who dances with lone travelers. She has deer hooves instead of feet. | She offers a dance that grants +1 die to seduction or deception, but marks you as her prey. Iron burns her. |
| Sluagh (Host of the Unforgiven) | A flock of gray, bird-like spirits flying through the night sky, snatching souls without cairns. | They fear the sound of a bell. They may offer to carry a message to the dead for a memory. |
| Cù Sìth (Fairy Dog) | A great green hound with a braided tail, harbinger of death. | Three barks mean you will die before sunset; one bark means you will outlive your enemies. It may adopt a character who shows mercy to a wounded animal. |
| Cairn-Wight | An undead guardian of the stones, risen when Ancestral Grudge fills. | It does not negotiate. It counts. Offer a wergild in cattle or a true regret to send it back. |
Prominent NPCs of Ubral
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumoured Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Lady Uria | Clan-chief of the Gray Tor | Keep the old oaths and resist Viterran encroachment | She lost a hand to a Viterran knight; her iron hook has a built-in bell. It rings when she lies. It has never rung. |
| Hearth-Aunt Brigid | Keeper of guest-right (commoner exemplar) | Protect her household and settle feuds before blood is spilled | She has never drawn a blade. She has never needed to. Her hospitality has ended more feuds than swords. |
| Councilor Gethin | Elder of the Council of Cairns | Preserve the wergild system and the memory of the dead | He speaks once a year; his sentences take a full season to deliver. He has never spoken a ninth word. |
| Oath-Singer Lilias | Verse-weaver and feud mediator | Turn vengeance into cattle, not corpses | Her tongue is forked—she can praise and curse in the same breath. Her songs are older than the Viterran crown. |
| Vent-Prior Orla | Aeler outcast leader of Khaz-Vurim | Build a new under-way through Ubral, linking mountains to lowlands | She carries a bell that rings once for each miner she left behind. She counts her breaths in eights—aloud. |
| Sister Niamh | Healer of the Cairn-Keepers of the Gray Palm (Temple of Light) | Run a free hospice at Gray Tor without angering the old gods | She asks no payment, but she writes every patient’s name on a slate that never fills. The slate has eight columns. |
| Bean-Nighe | The Washer at the Ford (spirit omen) | Appear to those about to die, washing their burial shrouds | She has no face—only a hood of gray water. If you ask her name, she will show you your own death. |
Names of Ubral
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Surnames | Epithets |
|---|---|---|---|
| Gethin | Uria | ap Cairn | the Gray |
| Bran | Brigid | ferch Tor | Oath-Sworn |
| Drystan | Lilias | mac Tern | the Stone-Foot |
| Eilian | Niamh | O’Ruarc | Hollow-Tongue |
| Padraig | Siorcha | Mac Gowan | the Unbroken |
| Tegid | Ailbhe | O’Creagh | Ash-Finger |
Cairn Vote (d8)
When a cairn is asked to judge a dispute, roll 1d8:
| d8 | Outcome | Mechanical Effect |
|---|---|---|
| 1–2 | Dead vote for war | Advance the related Feud or Conflict timer by +2 segments. |
| 3–4 | Dead are divided | No change, but the GM gains 1 SB (the cairn is watching). |
| 5–6 | Dead vote for peace | Retreat the related timer by − 1 segment. |
| 7 | Dead demand tribute | The cairn will not judge until an offering is made (1 Supply or a story). |
| 8 | Dead vote for blood-price | The losing party must pay a wergild of 3 cows (1 Supply) or the feud continues. |
Guest-Right Violations (d6)
When a PC breaks guest-right (refuses a cup, insults a host, draws steel at table), roll 1d6:
| d6 | Consequence |
|---|---|
| 1 | The host demands a wergild of 1 Supply immediately. |
| 2 | The cairn nearest the hall votes against you—start a Grudge [4] timer. |
| 3 | A witness spreads the story. Gain a Black Mark ( − 1 die on all social rolls in Ubral for one session). |
| 4 | The host’s kin challenge you to a duel to first blood (Body+Melee, DV 3). The loser owes a story. |
| 5 | The hearth-stone cracks. The hall is now Desperate for all social rolls until you make an offering (1 Supply or a story). |
| 6 | The Hollow takes notice. GM gains 2 SB to spend on supernatural complications. The host’s family will remember—for generations. |
Spades — Places
Sheepwalk Ledge — Goat path with room for one honest lie at a time. ‘[THRESHOLD]‘ ‘[OATH]‘ The lie must be about an oath you broke. Tell it, and the ledge holds. Refuse, and the path crumbles—start a Fallen Kin [4] timer (the ancestor whose oath you broke is watching). The ledge is eight paces long. Do not take a ninth.
Guest-right cost: If you cross without offering a pinch of salt to the cairn at the far end, the ledge becomes Desperate for all navigation rolls.
Blood-price: 1 cow (if the ledge collapses on someone, that is the blood-price).Warden’s Cairn — Windy tor; signal-fire basket and dry cache; eyes of the hills. ‘[WATCH]‘ The cache holds a single arrow. Light it with the fire, and the message is war. The arrow is fletched with eagle feathers—a clan’s highest oath. The cairn has eight faces. The ninth is hidden.
Guest-right cost: Asking for shelter here requires you to name a weight you still carry. If you refuse, the Warden marks you—start Suspicion [4].
Blood-price: 2 cows (the cost of a false alarm).Wergild Ford — Flat stones, deep pools, table rock for counting silver. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[TRADE]‘ The table rock is smooth as glass. Blood washes off; lies do not. The water remembers every price ever paid here. The ford has eight crossings. The ninth is the Hollow’s.
Blood-prices paid here are witnessed by the stones. If you cross without paying a due weight, the water rises—test Body+Athletics (DV 4) or lose 1 Supply (drowned cargo).Droppers’ Bridge — Stone span rigged to fall; pins already loosened. ‘[TRAP]‘ The pins are greased with mutton fat. The bridge knows who paid for the grease. Its fall has ended three feuds and started two. There are eight pins. The ninth is a story.
Crossing cost: Spend 1 Boon or mark 1 Fatigue to notice the loosened pins (Wits+Insight DV 3). On a Miss, the bridge drops—test Body+Athletics or take Harm 1.Scree-Ladder — Climbing to a notch; red rags mark safe steps through danger. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The rags are old clan banners. Step where they wave, not where they lie flat. One rag is white—that marks a traitor’s grave. There are eight ladders. The ninth is a fall.
Guest-right cost: A guide demands a story before showing you the safe route. If you refuse, the ladder becomes Desperate for all climbing rolls.Moot Hollow — Ring of standing stones; voices carry and won’t quite stop. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[OATH]‘ The stones have ears. Speak a false oath here, and every cairn will know. The dead vote by how the mist moves. There are eight stones. The ninth is the space between.
Cairn vote: Any oath sworn here is witnessed by the stones. Break it, and the cairns vote against you automatically (see Cairn Vote table).Reiver’s Gate — Between boulders; cart-ruts vanish into heather’s memory. ‘[STEALTH]‘ The gate has no lintel. Above it, ravens nest in a skull. The ravens are the clan’s spies. They count in caws—never more than eight.
Passing cost: The ravens demand a secret. Tell a true secret, and they let you pass unseen. Refuse, and they raise the alarm—start Watch Patrol [4].Khaz-Vurim Steps — Dwarf-cut switchbacks with iron mile studs; toll and toil. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The studs are cold iron. Touch them, and the mountain knows your weight. Aeler outcasts maintain the toll—they accept stories as often as coin. They count in eights. If you hear a ninth, run.
Toll: 1 Supply or a story that makes the toll-keeper laugh. If you cannot pay, you are turned back—lose 1 segment of progress.Gray Tor Fort — Earthen rampart, timber crown, smoky cook pits. ‘[COMMUNITY]‘ The cook pits have been burning for three hundred years. The ash is deep enough to bury a secret—and more than one Viterran scout. The fort has eight gates. The ninth is a wall.
Guest-right cost: To enter the fort, you must share a meal. Refusing starts a Grudge of the Hearth [4] timer.Black Broom Bog — Stepping-logs; wrong one drinks you into silence. ‘[DEATH]‘ ‘[FEAR]‘ The logs are painted with warding runes. One is unpainted—that one is the quick way. The bog exhales names of the drowned. There are eight logs. The ninth is a whisper.
Cairn vote: The bog is sacred to the dead. Any violence here triggers a cairn vote. The dead always vote for war (advance the nearest Feud timer by +2).Bride’s Causey — Raised road to a valley kirk; ribbons hang like warnings. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The ribbons are from wedding gowns—cut short when the groom fell in a feud. The kirk is neutral ground, but the path is not. The causey has eight spans. The ninth is a promise.
Guest-right cost: To cross, you must accept a cup of water from the bride’s kin. Refusal is an insult—start Bride-Price Default [4].Three-Fires Ridge — Watchposts that see Viterra and Vhasia both; news travels fast. ‘[WATCH]‘ The fires are layered: birch for peace, pine for raid, oak for invasion. A fourth fire—yew—means the Hollow walks. The watchmen count in eights. The ninth signal is never sent.
Using the fires: A successful Wits+Lore (DV 3) lets you read the beacon code and learn the state of the passes. On a Miss, you misread the signals—start False Alarm [4].Pass of Ashes — When snow closes here, the upland becomes an island. ‘[WEATHER]‘ ‘[DEATH]‘ The ash is from old sacrifices. The pass remembers every offering. The last sacrifice was a Viterran herald. His voice is still in the wind. The pass has eight turns. The ninth is a cairn.
Cairn vote: The pass is watched by the ghost of the herald. Any oath sworn here is witnessed by the dead. Break it, and the cairn votes for war automatically.
Hearts — People & Factions
Hearth-Aunt — Holds guest-cup and house’s temper; hospitality as power. She has never drawn a blade. She has never needed to. Her hospitality has ended more feuds than swords. She counts her guests in eights. The ninth chair is empty.
Guest-right cost: She owes a blood-weight to the Mac Tern clan. If you help her pay it (a quest), she gives you a Guest-Token (Diamond). Guest-right cost: share a true story of a broken oath. If you refuse, start Grudge of the Hearth [4].Hill Guide — Thorn-staff and ten quiet shortcuts; the land as a map. He taps each stone before stepping. The stones talk to him. He learned the tongue from an Aeler outcast who went deaf and learned to listen with his feet. He never takes a ninth step in the same direction.
Guest-right cost: A cup of tea and a moment of silence. If you speak during his listening, he refuses to guide—start Lost Ways [4].Feud-Broker — Knows the weight of a life in cattle and coin; peace as trade. His record is a row of notched sticks. Each notch is a death—or a birth. He has notched both sides of the same feud for forty years. He counts in eights. The ninth notch is a lie.
Service: He will settle any dispute for a wergild of 3 cows (or 1 Supply). If you pay, gain +1 Position in the next negotiation. If you cheat him, the cairns remember—start Broker’s Grudge [4].Reiver Band — Light on tack, heavy on nerve, laughing in the rain. They wear no colors. Their horses answer to whistles, not names. They raid Viterran supply trains and leave heather sprigs as signatures. They ride in eights. The ninth horse is a ghost.
Alliance: They will raid a target of your choice—but demand a hostage (a PC becomes a temporary follower of the band). Refusal starts Reiver Hunt [4].Fire Warden — Braziers speak faster than riders; warning as weapon. She can light a signal with a single word. The word is a dead man’s name. The dead man was a Viterran knight who burned her village. She lights eight beacons. The ninth would call the Hollow.
Guest-right cost: She demands a name of someone who wronged your family. If you cannot give one, she refuses to share her fire—start Exposure [4] (cold).Wergild Keeper — Keeps tallies, ends grudges, starts others; law as math. His reckoning beads are sheep knuckles. He clicks them in his sleep. His grandmother taught him; she learned from an Aeler vent-prior. He counts in eights. The ninth bead is silence.
Service: He can reckon a blood-weight for 1 Supply. On a success (Wits+Lore DV 3), he finds a hidden wergild that clears 2 segments of a Feud timer. On a Miss, he finds a weight you must settle—tick Wergild Breach [4].Dwarf Warden (Aeler Outcast) — Khaz-Vurim road; toll first, friendship later. Her hammer has a chip where she cracked a liar’s skull. She never fixed it. She came to the surface for the sky—and stayed for the feuds. She breathes in eights. The ninth is the mountain’s.
Toll: 1 Supply or a story about a betrayal. She is collecting evidence for a case she will never bring. If you lie, she marks you—start Marked Notice [3].Oath-Singer — Verses bind hands and open gates; word as iron. Her tongue is forked—she can praise and curse in the same breath. Her songs are older than the Viterran crown. Each verse has eight lines. The ninth is the silence after.
Guest-right cost: She asks you to sing a verse of your own people’s oath-song. If you cannot, she refuses to witness any oath you make—start Unwitnessed [4].Lowland Factor — Buying iron blooms, selling trouble; coin as catalyst. He carries two books. One is for the clans. One is for the tax man. The third book is in his head; it lists every bribe he has ever taken. He counts in eights. The ninth entry is a death.
Service: He can forge a Viterran tax waiver for 1 Boon. On a Miss, the forgery is discovered—start Royal Incursion [4].Bride-Carrier — Peaceweaver walking bloodlines with a knife and a smile. Her knife has a wooden blade. The threat is real. She has walked between warring clans nine times. The ninth was a Viterran lord who wanted a wife. He got a treaty instead. She carries eight ribbons. The ninth is a scar.
Guest-right cost: She demands a lock of hair from each PC (as a pledge of peace). Refusal starts a Bride-Price Feud [4].Lady of Tor — Clan-chief in cloak and mail; her nod is winter or spring. She lost a hand to a Viterran knight. Her iron hook has a built-in bell. The bell rings when she lies. It has never rung. She holds eight councilors. The ninth is the cairn.
Guest-right cost: To speak with her, you must first offer a public apology for any wrong your people have done to her clan. If you refuse, she will not hear you—start Tor’s Silence [4].Council of Cairns — Graybeards and granite wills; they do not hurry. They have sentenced men to exile. The sentences take a year to deliver. The exile always knows before they speak. There are eight councilors. The ninth is the dead they serve.
Cairn vote: The Council speaks for the dead. Any request for their judgment triggers a cairn vote (see table). They never accept bribes—only wergild.Stone-Speaker — Aeler outcast envoy whose word moves roads and rates. He carries a tuning fork. Strike it, and the mountain answers. He has not seen his homeland in sixty years. He calls the mist his ceiling now. He counts his breaths in eights. The ninth is the mountain’s answer.
Guest-right cost: He asks for a memory of your homeland. If you give a true memory, he grants you a Stone-Clause (Diamond). If you lie, the mountain remembers—start Ancestral Grudge [4].
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Upland Mist — Hear horns but not edges; navigation by sound and instinct. ‘[WEATHER]‘ ‘[STEALTH]‘ The horns are calling a muster. Which clan? You will know when they arrive. The mist smells of wet wool and old iron. The horns sound in eights. The ninth note is a scream.
Cairn vote: The mist is the breath of the cairns. Any failed roll here ticks Ancestral Grudge +1 (the dead are restless).Feud Rekindled — Cousin spits on guest-law; knives wake from sleep. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The spit lands at your feet. The insult is now yours to answer. The cousin’s father was killed in a cattle raid thirty years ago. He has been waiting. He counts his grudges in eights. The ninth is you.
Cairn vote: The nearest cairn is asked to judge. Roll a cairn vote (see table). On a Clean Success, the cairn votes for peace ( − 1 segment on Feud timer). On a Miss, it votes for war (+2 segments).Bridge Dropped — Pursuers fall…and the route with them; passage becomes peril. ‘[TRAP]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The bridge was cut from the far side. Someone expected you. The cut ropes smell of dwarf-made pitch—a signature of the Aeler outcasts. There were eight ropes. The ninth was cut first.
Blood-price: If someone falls, their clan will demand a blood-price. Pay 2 Supply or start a Vendetta [6].Black-Rent Demand — “Privateering on land”; pay or be “escorted.” ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The escort has a noose. Choose your words carefully. The man collecting is a Viterran factor with a royal warrant. The warrant is a forgery. No one will admit it. He demands eight silver. The ninth is your name.
Guest-right cost: Pay 1 Supply or offer a hostage. Refusal starts The Viterran Yoke +1.Wergild Breach — Silver short by a head; tempers long by a spear’s length. ‘[LAW]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The bereaved clan has a new widow. She is sharpening a blade. The missing silver was paid in lowland coin—debased, clipped, and worthless. The insult is not the shortfall; it is the contempt. She counts the coins in eights. The ninth is a blade.
Cairn vote: The widow demands a cairn vote. Roll. On a 1–2, the dead vote for war—advance the related Feud timer by +3.Snow-Squall — Seals the notch; tents turn to coffins if you dally. ‘[WEATHER]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The snow is tinged gray—ash from the Pass. Someone burned an offering. The offering was a Viterran tax roll. The gods accepted. The snow falls in eights. The ninth flake is a memory.
Guest-right cost: The only shelter is a cairn. Entering without an offering (1 Supply) angers the dead—start Ancestral Grudge +2.Dwarf Toll Hike — At the Steps; papers right, purses wrong; law costs coin. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The warden quotes a rate from a book that wasn’t there yesterday. The book was written by an Aeler outcast who lost his sense of humor but not his reckoning. The rate is eight silver. The ninth is a story.
Toll: Pay double (2 Supply) or offer a story about a broken promise. If you cannot, you are turned back—lose 1 segment of progress.Cattle Scatter — Bells ringing downslope; the cover story runs with the herd. ‘[STEALTH]‘ ‘[DISASTER]‘ The bells are yours. The herd is not. The real owner is a clan chief with a long memory and three sons with sharp swords. The bells ring in eights. The ninth is a war-cry.
Blood-price: The chief demands 3 cows (1 Supply) as a fine. If you cannot pay, start a Cattle Raid Feud [6].False Alarm — Watch-fire beacons ridge to ridge; levies seize the road. ‘[WATCH]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The fire was lit by a child. Or a spy. The levy doesn’t care. The spy is a Viterran agent. The child is his nephew. The beacons burn in eights. The ninth is a lie.
Cairn vote: The levy will not listen to reason. Roll a cairn vote to see if the dead intervene. On a 5–6, the mist swallows the levy—they disperse.Bride-Theft — A wedding becomes a war-party; you are caught between both. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The bride’s veil is on the ground. The groom’s own kin drew first blood. The bride was promised to a neighboring clan. She chose her own groom. Now three clans want her head—and her hand. There are eight guests. The ninth is a ghost.
Guest-right cost: Whoever you shelter, the other two clans will demand a wergild of 5 cows (2 Supply). Refusal starts a three-way feud.Royal Incursion — Neighbor’s “lawful” arrests in the uplands; flags and chains. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The flags are Viterran. The chains are new. The prisoners are children. The crime is not paying a tax that was never law. The clans are calling the muster. The flags have eight stripes. The ninth is blood.
Cairn vote: The cairns vote on whether to resist. Roll. On 1–2, the dead advise patience—the clans hesitate. On 5–6, they vote for war—advance The Viterran Yoke +2.Clan Muster — Horns call men from steadings to spears; all traffic stops. ‘[WATCH]‘ ‘[COMBAT]‘ The muster stone is black with old blood. The new blood will be red. The last muster was forty years ago, to drive out a Viterran garrison. The garrison’s bones are under the sheepwalk. The horns sound eight times. The ninth is silence.
Blood-price: To pass through the muster, you must pay a blood-price to the clan’s cairn—1 Supply or a hostage. Refusal means you are conscripted into the war.Hill-Fall — Rain liquefies a slope; trail, proof, and bodies slide together. ‘[WEATHER]‘ ‘[DEATH]‘ The mud is warm. Something underneath is still breathing. The slide exposed a mass grave—clan warriors who fell in a forgotten feud. Their ghosts are counting the blood-price still outstanding. They count in eights. The ninth is you.
Cairn vote: The ghosts demand payment. Pay 3 Supply (wergild for the dead) or roll a cairn vote. On 1–2, the ghosts attack—treat as a Cap 3 adversary.
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Guest-Token — One hearth owes food, bed, and steel at dawn. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The token is a knucklebone from a feast. The host’s name is carved on it. Break it, and the obligation ends. The host will not thank you. There are eight notches on the bone. The ninth is the breaking.
Blood-price: 3 cows. If you are wronged by the host, you may demand this value in cattle or public apology.Guide’s Braid — Lawful passage on named sheepwalks (once). ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The braid is woven from horsehair and a promise. Unravel it to return. The promise was made to a hill guide who died last winter. His ghost still checks the knots. The braid has eight strands. The ninth is a memory.
Guest-right cost: Using the braid obliges you to leave an offering at the guide’s cairn (1 Supply). If you forget, start Ancestral Grudge +1.Ford Remission — Cross Wergild Ford free for a season; water as ally. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The remission is a white stone. Skip it across the ford to pay. The stone was taken from a Viterran courthouse. The law has not found it yet. The stone has eight facets. The ninth is a crack.
Blood-price: The stone can be used as payment for any wergild of 5 cows or less. Once used, it crumbles.Feud-Charter — Two clans sheath blades until the next harvest. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[OATH]‘ The charter is a broken spear. Each clan keeps a half. The spear was used to kill a Viterran tax collector. His family still wants it back. The spear had eight notches. The ninth broke it.
Cairn vote: The charter is witnessed by the cairns. If either clan breaks it, the cairns vote for war automatically.Bloom Allotment — Claim on a week’s iron from a hill bloomery. ‘[TRADE]‘ The bloomery is a woman’s name. She decides how much you get. She is an Aeler outcast’s granddaughter. Her iron is harder than any lowlander’s steel. She counts her blooms in eights. The ninth is for the cairn.
Blood-price: The iron can be traded for 2 Supply or used to forge a weapon (grant +1 die on one melee attack).Watch-Code — Today’s beacon order from Three-Fires Ridge. ‘[WATCH]‘ ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The code is a sequence of smoke puffs. Read it, and the hills will watch for you. The code changes weekly. The fire wardens burn the old codes—the smoke carries the memory. The code has eight signals. The ninth is a warning.
Guest-right cost: To receive the code, you must share a secret with the fire warden. If you lie, the code is false—start False Alarm [4].Pass-Ring — Dwarf road priority for one train of carts. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ The ring is iron. Wear it on your off hand. The Aeler outcasts who made it stamped their names inside. One name is scratched out—the smith was killed in a feud. The ring still works. The ring has eight runes. The ninth is a scar.
Blood-price: The ring can be used as a toll waiver for any dwarf road (value 2 Supply). Once used, the ring cracks.Bride-Escrow — Hold the bride-gift; both sides must humour you. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The purse is a leather bag. The coins inside are from a dead man’s hoard. The dead man was a Viterran lord who tried to tax the clans. His ghost asks for his money back. The purse has eight seams. The ninth is a stitch.
Guest-right cost: The ghost will appear if the purse is opened without a witness. If you fail to provide a witness, start Haunted [4].Shelter Writ — Gray Tor opens its gates during storm or pursuit. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The writ is a raven feather. Burn it to claim shelter. The raven was a clan spy. His memory still watches the gates. The feather has eight barbs. The ninth is a secret.
Guest-right cost: The writ only works if you swear an oath of non-violence within the fort. Refusal voids the writ.Oath-Bracelet — One binding vow ends cleanly, witnessed. ‘[OATH]‘ ‘[MAGIC]‘ The bracelet is silver. The clasp is a wolf’s head. Bite it to break the oath. The wolf’s head was a seal of a Viterran king. The oath was sworn under duress. The bracelet remembers. The bracelet has eight links. The ninth is the bite.
Cairn vote: Breaking the oath triggers a cairn vote. The dead always vote for the wronged party—advance the related Feud timer by +1 per broken oath.Council Audience — The Cairns hear you alone; precedent sticks like stone. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[LAW]‘ The audience is held at midnight. The stones glow when they agree. The last audience exiled a clan chief. He is still walking the passes, looking for a cairn that will forgive him. There are eight councilors. The ninth is the stone.
Guest-right cost: You must leave an offering of silence (no speaking for one hour) before the audience. If you break silence, the cairns refuse to judge.Road Commission — Collect tolls on a stretch of pass (for now). ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[TRADE]‘ The commission is a wooden staff. Plant it at the toll gate. The staff was carved from a gallows tree. The last toll-keeper was hanged. The staff still creaks. The staff has eight knots. The ninth is a creak.
Blood-price: The commission allows you to demand 1 Supply from any traveler. If you abuse it, the cairns vote against you—start Ancestral Grudge +1.Stone-Clause — Temporary exception to dwarf toll or law, sealed. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ ‘[OATH]‘ The clause is a single rune. Carve it on the toll post, and the mountain will honor it—once. The rune was taught to the clans by an Aeler outcast who wanted to see a Viterran knight pay double. The rune has eight strokes. The ninth is the mountain’s answer.
Guest-right cost: Using the clause obliges you to perform a service for the Aeler outcasts (a quest). Refusal starts Deep Road +1.
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 (oaths/rights/tokens) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo stone and spear motifs—cairns that watch, voices that echo, oaths that cut deeper than steel. The ninth stone is warm. The dead are counting.
Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)
Guest-Law: Breaking hospitality stains a name worse than breaking a sword. Guest-right tokens guarantee shelter, but abuse invites a blood feud. A Viterran lord who broke guest-law at Gray Tor had his name struck from the Council’s cairn. His own clan disowned him. The cairn has eight names. His is not among them.
Wergild System: Every injury has a price in cattle or coin. Wergild keepers maintain reckonings that outlive the injured; weights pass to kin. The lowland courts have no equivalent; they imprison the poor and hang the desperate. The clans consider that barbaric. The clans count in eights. The ninth is the Hollow’s.
Dwarf Toll Roads: Khaz-Vurim gates charge for passage, but their roads are sure and swift. Pass-rings grant priority, but dwarf law is strict. The Aeler outcasts who run the tolls are exiles—they fled the Deep Vaults because they could not abide the counting. Now they count for the clans, and they are gentle with the weary. They never count to nine.
Scottish Folk Horrors (Ubral Bestiary): See the Folk-Horror Bestiary table above for creature mechanics and hooks.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Bone Keeper — Varnek Karn. The chronicler of ancestral wergild; the witness to every blood price. He counts in eights. The ninth is the grave.
The Iron Crown — Mykkiel. The law of the lowlands, cold and distant; the clans honor it by breaking it. Its scales have eight weights. The ninth is empty.
The Gray Mare — The Traveler. The rider who never tires; the path that leads home through the mist. Her hooves fall in eights. The ninth is a whisper.
The Forge Father (Aeler outcast cult) — The Sealed Gate. The fire that shapes iron; the exile who builds a new hearth. He counts his breaths. The ninth is the mountain’s.
The Cailleach (Winter Hag) — The Pale Shepherd. She who brings the frost and the long dark. Her staff is the ninth branch of the world tree.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord run a hospice near the Pass of Ashes, tending to the wounded of both sides of the Great Feud. A renegade Sister has hidden a Hollowed in a cairn, trying to settle a blood-weight by feeding the Hollow memories of Viterran tax collectors. The clans do not know whether to thank her or burn her. The cairn now has eight stones. The ninth is her name.
Malachai, the Chained Angel: A silver coin that never spends appears in the palm of every third corpse pulled from a hill-fall. Take it, and the dead will give you their last breath—but the coin will taste of peat smoke and regret. The coin has eight edges. The ninth is a scar.
The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Ubral psions are called “Stone-Listeners.” They press their foreheads to cairns and hear the names of everyone who has touched that stone. The Lady of Tor employs three; they have not spoken aloud in a decade. They count in eights. The ninth name is always theirs.
The Threshold Compendium: The Pass of Ashes is a Class II Anchor—the spirits of Viterran knights who froze to death in a blizzard still march there, looking for a way home. Saikou Ira left a silver mirror at the summit. The mirror shows the knights their own corpses. They have not advanced since. The mirror has eight sides. The ninth is a crack.
Ubral Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Cairn: Crumble a crust at the base of a standing stone. Ignore the first Upland Mist penalty. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Knot the Guest-Cup: Tie a single knot in the handle of a drinking cup. Cancel Feud Rekindled or take − 1 die on your next hospitality roll (your choice). ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Name to the Ford: Whisper a dead enemy’s name into the Wergild Ford. Gain +1 Effect when claiming redress from their kin this scene, but mark Obligation to the Lady of Tor. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Count the Eighth: Before entering a cairn’s shadow, count your breaths to eight. Stop. If you reach nine, the cairn will count you. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Iron to the Kelpie: Drop a cold iron nail into a loch before crossing. The water horse will not trouble you for one crossing. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from clan guards or reiver scouts.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby watch-fires or hill guides.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for trackers or feud-kin.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable weather.
Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Hill guide or clan chief becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to mist or bridge collapse.
Foe Appears: A reiver band or feud-kin 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 clan warriors, reivers, or dwarf wardens arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes—feud declared/bridge falls/snow closes pass.
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: Lady of Tor, Council of Cairns, or Stone-Speaker intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically—mist thickens/bridge drops/hill 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
Ubral (Stone & Oath): Cairns shift position, voices echo from empty air, oaths bind mid-speech. The ninth stone glows.
Ubral (Hill Law): Paths reroute without warning, tolls increase mid-journey, guest-rights expire. The eighth cup is the last.
Ubral (Feud Culture): Insults are overheard, weapons appear in sheaths, kin arrive unsummoned. The dead are watching.
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Navigation): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Bog Mist.
Cut the Bridge (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a Pass-Ring is in your possession, +1 die.
Weather the Squall (Endurance + Survival): On a hit in Snow-Squall, you pick who finds shelter; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (Stone & Spear)
The Wolf-Road Captain (reiver-king on a piebald mare) — Phases: Ride-Through → Torch the Fold → Laugh in Rain. Cracks: present a Watch-Code or Guide’s Braid to reduce his effect; strike a truce with a season’s cattle. He counts his victims in eights. The ninth is himself.
The Bride-Thief of Black Broom (mask of bog-rush) — Phases: Switch the Bride → Bog Embrace → Nettle Oath. Cracks: play a Bride-Charter to freeze blades; a Well-Blessing nulls one bog move. She has stolen eight brides. The ninth stole her.
Stone Warden of Khaz-Vurim (Aeler outcast toll-magistrate) — Phases: Double the Toll → Weigh the Lie → Seal the Switchback. Cracks: present two of {Pass-Ring, Stamped Load-List, Named Sponsor} to downgrade his authority. He counts in eights. Do not let him reach nine.
The Oath-Eater Wight (cairn-bound revenant) — Phases: Take the Word → Cold of Cairn → Bind Witness. Cracks: Oath-Bracelet or a skald’s stanza spoken over bread and blood cancels one move; settle an ancestral wergild. It was betrayed on the ninth oath. It will not forgive.
Gray-Tor Hedge-Witch (heather crown, ash staff) — Phases: Weather-Turn → Hag-Stone Sight → Bind the Gate. Cracks: gift a Bloom Allotment or a winter’s salt; a Council Audience compels parley. She speaks in eights. The ninth word is a curse.
The Each Uisge (Lord of the Loch) — Phases: Beckoning → The Ride → The Drowning. Cracks: offer a cold iron bridle, speak its true name (carved on a stone at the bottom of the loch), or sacrifice a horse in your place.
Legendary Sites & Trials
Sheepwalk Ledge Trial — Speak one honest lie to pass. On success, set Position one step safer for the next border scene; on failure, start Kin Arrive. The ledge has eight steps. The ninth is a story.
Wergild Ford Weighing — Cast silver on the table-rock. If paid in full, clear 1 Feud-Smoke; if short, Wergild Breach enters play. The rock has eight weights. The ninth is a ghost.
Pass of Ashes Vigil — Hold a fire through the night storm. Success grants Shelter Writ; a miss summons the Oath-Eater Wight at weak strength. The fire must be fed eight times. The ninth feeding is your memory.
Extensions (Plug-in)
Oath Dial (Honor ↔︎ Cunning): Track the party’s footing between honor and pragmatism.
Honor High: +1 Position when invoking guest-right, keeping truce, or paying wergild promptly; first ambush/raid action each session starts one step worse.
Cunning High: +1 Effect on raids, evasions, and border tricks; first formal parley or oath-bound request each session starts one step worse.
Center the dial by restoring stolen cattle, hosting an enemy well, or submitting to a cairn ruling. The dial has eight positions. The ninth is a truce.
Feud Math (fast settlement): Lay three markers: Blood, Beasts, Blame.
Make a single Parley/Command/Study roll per side. On a hit, move one marker to your side; great Effect moves two.
Win any two to settle: Blood = oath/hostage, Beasts = wergild in cattle/coin, Blame = public apology/verse.
Miss: mark Feud-Smoke [4]. At 4, the losing side names a lawful target (bridge, herd, guide). The target has eight days to pay. The ninth is the Hollow’s.
Guest-Right Procedure:
Present a Guest-Token (or bread and salt). Host must choose: Shelter, Escort at Dawn, or Neutral Meal.
Breaking it creates Blood-Oath [6] against the violator; any Ubral ally may spend 1 ◇ to tick it twice.
Abiding it clears 1 tick from Feud-Smoke and grants +1d to the next social action in that steading. The oath is witnessed by the hearth. The hearth counts in eights.
Watchfire Net (ridge signals):
Two timers: Beat the Beacons vs Ridge Aflame (size by highest rank in your seed).
Choose a lane each exchange: Low Fold (slow, stealth), Sheepwalk (tricky, quick), Road (fast, obvious).
Advantage: Low Fold ⊳ Road (conceal), Road ⊳ Sheepwalk (speed), Sheepwalk ⊳ Low Fold (shortcuts).
False Alarm (1 SB): light or douse a misleading brazier; shift one segment between the two timers. The beacons have eight signals. The ninth is war.
Reiver Ride (mounted chase):
Track Remounts (3): each push for speed trades 1 remount for +1d or +1 Effect. At 0, gain Blown Mounts condition.
Hag-Stone Cut: pass a known gap (Sheepwalk Ledge, Droppers’ Bridge) to force pursuers to roll or fall behind.
The reivers ride in eights. The ninth horse is a lie.
Khaz-Vurim Protocol (Aeler Outcast Rules):
Present any two: Pass-Ring, Stamped Load-List, Named Sponsor. Two = safe passage; one = pay toll + scrutiny; none = delay and search.
Stone-Clause may override one dwarf law once; afterwards start Marked Notice [3] with the wardens (prices rise, patience falls).
Measured Truth: you may substitute exact weights/measures for charm or coin to improve Position by one step with dwarves.
Aeler outcast smiths accept stories as payment for small repairs—the story must be about a betrayal. They are collecting evidence for a case they will never bring. They count their breaths. The ninth is the mountain’s.
Bride-Peace Interlude:
Play a Bride-Charter to suspend violence at a scene. Everyone sheaths—or earns Song Shame [4]. When it fills, a skald memorializes the insult (ongoing -1d with that clan).
The bride has eight ribbons. The ninth is a knife.
Start-of-Scene Omens (1d6):
Clear Ridge: first signal test gains +1d.
Lowing Herd: +1d to tracking or herding; -1d to stealth near cattle.
Wet Stone: climbs start one step worse; mending gear is easier (free repair tick).
Old Verse Remembered: first oath/plea gains +1d if spoken in rhyme.
Border Drums: Viterra patrols near; papers safer, raiding harsher.
Dwarf Toll Day: prices firm; any ◇ tied to roads counts double value at the Steps.
Plug-in SB Conversions (Ubral Flavor):
1 SB → Mud and Heather: footing worsens; next physical action − 1d or mark Winded.
2 SB → Kin Arrive: add a rival cousin/ally who changes the ask or splits the pot.
3+ SB → Cairn Decrees: a standing stone “speaks” (witnesses recall the law); swap one held ◇ for a lesser right until you make amends. The stone speaks in eights. The ninth word is your name.
Reputation Echoes:
Guest-Faithful: once/session downgrade a social backlash inside a steading; next time you refuse hospitality, mark Feud-Smoke +1.
Reiver-Favored: +1 Effect to seize cattle/contraband on the move; city gates start one step worse Position.
Stone-Friend: +1d with dwarf wardens on roads; any false measure triggers Marked Notice +1.
In Ubral, power flows through clan bonds, guest-right, and the careful balance of honor and iron. Clan chiefs maintain authority through wergild, moots, and the respect of their people, while the Aeler outcasts of Khaz-Vurim wield influence through their control of mountain passes and forges. Law is personal and passed down through generations, with each oath and weight creating a web of obligation that can last centuries. The Viterran crown claims suzerainty; the clans call that claim “the ink of thieves.”
But older powers stir in the glens and lochs. The cailleach watches from the high corries, and the each uisge waits beneath the black water. The clans do not fight these spirits; they propitiate them with offerings of iron, salt, and silence. A chief who forgets the old ways may find his cattle drowned and his children cursed.
For the GM: Patronage in Ubral revolves around hospitality, protection, and the resolution of feuds. Rewards often take the form of tokens, charters, or safe passage that can be leveraged into greater influence. To emphasize this, use the faction timers, let rival clans issue conflicting protections, and remember the Aeler outcasts—they are exiles, not tourists. They will help a clan for a story, but they will never forget a slight. They count in eights. Do not let them reach nine.
In Ubral, your word is your bond, and your bond determines whether you walk in peace or peril. The lowlands write their laws in ink; Ubral carves them in stone. The ink fades. The stone remembers. And the dead are always counting.
Silkstrand
City of Bridges & Dyewater.
In this city, every bridge is a contract and every current carries coin. The bargains struck in our shadows never quite fade from memory, and the waters remember every handshake.
I am a Bobbin-Runner. I can cross this city faster than any grown-up, and I know which planks creak and which merchants lie. The bridges remember every step, and the canals carry more secrets than fish.
Silkstrand is a city strung across canals and arches, a place where every bridge is a contract and every current carries rumor. The silk looms never sleep, the Exchange never closes, and the Archivolt’s notaries seal fates with a drop of wax. Merchants rise and fall with the tide of the market, bravos carve reputations on the planks of Three-Queens Bridge, and the city’s underworld runs on whispers and borrowed keys. But here’s the secret the Matron doesn’t want you to know: the canals are not just water. They are memory. Every bribe, every broken promise, every cargo that was never declared—the canals remember. And sometimes, at low tide, the water shows you the faces of the merchants who drowned rather than pay their debts.
The Matron rules from her palazzo stairs with velvet and iron, but the city itself belongs to silk, silver, and shadow. The Exchange Volatility Timer ticks with every major cargo seizure, every trade route cut, every merchant default. When it fills, a panic hits—the Exchange closes, and all outstanding contracts are voided unless witnessed by the Matron herself. The Matron has voided nine contracts this year. The ninth was her own.
Never name a rival while crossing a bridge at night. The water remembers, and the curse you send may come back wrapped around your own throat.
— Bobbin-Runner, who ties a knot in her apron string for every secret she carries
What do people eat for breakfast? Rice porridge with dried fish—the rice is from the Oshiiran barges, the fish is from the Zakov fleets. Both are smuggled. Both are delicious. Both are paid for in favors.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To count bridges. Silkstrand children are taught the eight bridges of the city: Merchant’s, Weaver’s, Dyer’s, Cooper’s, Pilot’s, Beggar’s, Saint’s, and the ninth—the bridge that is only there at low tide. The ninth bridge leads to the Sunken Quarter. The Sunken Quarter is where debts go to drown.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their ink. Every Silkstrand merchant has a seal-ink stain on their right thumb. A stranger whose ink is fresh is new to the trade. A stranger whose ink is faded has been retired. A stranger with no ink is not a merchant. Not a merchant is not a person.
What is the most common crime? Contract fraud—but fraud is not a crime, it is a negotiation. The contracts are written in disappearing ink. The ink’s formula is a secret. The secret is held by the Archivolt notaries. The notaries sell the antidote. The antidote is the fee.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Matron is not the ruler. The canals rule. The canals set the prices. The canals decide who lives and who drowns. The canals are not water. The canals are the city’s memory. The memory is the Matron’s. The Matron is the canals’ voice.
Where do people go when they die? To the canals. The dead are not buried. Their bodies are wrapped in silk and sunk in the deep channels. The channels are the city’s ledger. The ledger is never balanced.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a bridge—a toll paid to the Bridge-Lords. The toll is calculated by the wronged party’s estimate of their loss. The toll is paid in silver. The silver is melted and poured into the canal. The canal remembers the weight. The weight is your apology.
What is the most important festival? The Dyeing of the Waters (spring). The dyers empty their vats into the canals. The water turns red, blue, green, gold. The colors are the year’s fashions. The fashions are set by the Matron. The Matron’s favorite color is the one that sells best. The best color is the one she dyed her own hair.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The canals are not natural. They were dug by a Sidhi engineer who was paid in promises. The promises were broken. The engineer cursed the city. The curse is that every ninth drop of water is a tear. The tears belong to the engineer. She is still crying. She has been crying for nine centuries.
Silkstrand
Key Demographics: Humans
Entanglements
- To the West:
Ecktoria – The Archivolt’s clerks and the Amber Palace’s factor are the city’s financial compass. The Vigil’s accountants have a permanent office on the Exchange.
- To the East:
Vhasia – The Lame King’s envoys and the Sun Court’s diplomats frequent the Exchange. The dyewater runs red when the chevauchée burns.
- To the North:
The Acasian Curse – The Broken Marches bleed into the canals; the Curse’s weight is felt in the dyewater. The Ragman’s bravos are the city’s only shield against the Hollow’s attention.
- To the South:
The Amaranthine Sea – The canals meet the salt water; the Zakov pirates and Kahfagian privateers are both customers and rivals. The tide brings cargo; the tide takes evidence.
Quick Reference
Tagline: Every bridge is a promise. Every canal carries a secret. But the true pacts are sealed in whispers, not wax.
The Matron (Elite): “In this city, every bridge is an arrangement and every current carries a rumor. The pacts struck in our shadows never quite fade, and the waters remember every handshake. Trust the silk, not the smile. And never mistake a favor for a gift — threads can be pulled from either end.”
Bobbin-Runner (Commoner): “I can cross this city faster than any grown-up, and I know which planks creak and which merchants lie. The bridges remember every step, and the canals carry more secrets than fish. The nobles think they rule, but the Ragman owns the stairs they climb. Stay off the water after midnight — the night-boats don’t carry cargo, they carry whispers between patrons.”
Genre / Mood: Mercantile intrigue, Renaissance urban drama, layered loyalties, high stakes.
Starting Location: Three-Queens Bridge, crowded with market stalls, its stones worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. A Guildmistress with a silver whistle offers a stamped chit. “The Exchange boils today,” she says. “And something in the canals remembers your face. Bring me three bolts of untaxed crimson before the closing bell, or the Archivolt will have your name on a dead seal-keeper’s scroll. And watch your back on the Ropewalk — the Ragman’s bravos are hungry. If you need a patron, ask for the Contarini factor. If you need a knife, ask for the Tide Father’s man. Just know which one you’ll answer to afterwards.”
Silkstrand is a city strung across canals and arched bridges — a place where every crossing is a test of trust and every current carries secrets. The silk looms never sleep, the Exchange never closes, and the Archivolt’s clerks bind fates with a drop of wax. Merchants rise and fall with the turn of the market, bravos carve reputations on the planks of Three-Queens Bridge, and the city’s underworld runs on whispers and borrowed keys.
But trade is the veneer. The real power moves through older channels: the client–patron relationships that stitch the city together from the waterline up. The old patrician families — Contarini, Morosini, Dandolo — hold charters signed by emperors who are now dust. The crime lords — the Ragman, the Tide Father, the Silk Mother — hold the alleys, the night-boat landings, and the bonds that leave no mark. The Matron rules from her palazzo stairs with velvet and iron, but she rules because she balances these threads, not because she cuts them.
What you notice first: The clash of water against ancient stone. The constant rumble of cart wheels on bridge planks. The way every handshake lingers a heartbeat too long — as if both parties are checking for hidden blades — and the way every favor is named aloud, so witnesses will know who stands in whose shadow.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never name a rival while crossing a bridge at night. The water remembers, and the curse you send may come back wrapped around your own throat. But the deeper rule: never accept a favor without speaking its terms. An unspoken kindness is a thread that can be pulled from either end — and the other end is always held by someone who has been playing longer than you.
Regional Mood: Silk, Steel, and Shadow
Here, fortune is written in silk and sealed with a handshake — but the handshake is witnessed, and the witness takes a share. Silkstrand is not lawless; it is layered. Above the tide lies the world of guild charters, sealed archives, and the Matron’s velvet justice. Below the bridges, in the weeping arches and the midnight boat lanes, a quieter economy runs on whispers, borrowed keys, and the careful naming of old ties. The old patrician families hold the long view — a promise recalled after twenty years is still a promise. The crime bosses hold the short view — a knife in the ribs settles a score by morning. Every alliance is a knot that can be pulled loose. Every fortune is a thread that can be cut. And every thread has two ends.
The Patrician Families (Old Blood)
The great families of Silkstrand trace their lines to the founders of the republic. They hold the oldest charters, the tallest palazzos, and the longest memories. They do not trade in silk; they trade in access — to the Exchange, to the Archivolt, to the Matron’s ear.
| Family | Patron (if any) | Notable Clout |
|---|---|---|
| Contarini | The Witness (via Archivolt) | Control over sealed records; can validate or void any charter |
| Morosini | Maelstraeus (denied, whispered) | Merchant banking; holds the markers on half the Exchange |
| Dandolo | The Traveler (publicly) | Shipping and canals; controls the flood-stairs and tide charts |
| Giustinian | None (claim neutrality) | Arbitration; their word settles disputes without blood |
The Underworld Powers (Shadow Patrons)
Beneath the bridges, other powers hold court. They do not sit in palazzos; they sit in warehouses, in the holds of night-boats, in the back rooms of coffee houses. They trade in what cannot be declared.
| Name | Patron (secret) | Trade / Clout |
|---|---|---|
| The Ragman | The Ninth | Controls the Ropewalk and the Burdened Arcade; collects broken promises in flesh, not silver |
| The Tide Father | Khemesh | Smuggling through the flood-stairs; owns the night-boats; his divers recover what the canals hide |
| The Silk Mother | Inaea (unwitting) | Brothel and information network; her weavers knot messages into silk that only she can read |
| The Bookman | Maelstraeus (open secret) | Fixes the Exchange books; for a share, any loss can be made to look like profit |
Prominent NPCs of Silkstrand
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumored Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Matrona Lucia | The Matron, ruler of Silkstrand | Keep the guilds balanced and the treasury full | She has never raised her voice. The city learned to fear her silences. She keeps a cord with nine knots — one for each family bound to her by old pacts. |
| Guildmistress Xara | Head of the Silk Merchants’ Guild | Secure the red silk monopoly | She can tell your guild by the thread on your cuff; she never forgets a pattern. Her own thread is black — a sign of where her silence lies. |
| Niccolò | Archivolt clerk | “Fix” missing entries for a fee | His seal is a wolf’s head; the teeth are sharp. He has sealed nine charters that were never written. The ninth was his own. |
| Ravel | Night-boat smuggler | Move cargo that cannot be named | His boat has no name. The canal would remember it, and memory is a kind of tax. He works for the Tide Father. |
| Sister Chiara | Healer of the Weavers of Mercy (Temple of Light) | Run a hospice near the Salt Gate | She asks no payment, but she records every patient’s name in a book that seems to never fill. The book has a ninth page that is always blank. |
| Captain Borso | Condottieri watch captain | Keep the peace between guilds | He wears a mask on feast days; no one has seen his face in seven years. The mask was a gift from the Contarini. He does not know what bond it placed upon him. |
Names of Silkstrand
Inspired by the mercantile republics of the southern coast: liquid vowels, soft endings, and surnames that recall a bridge, a canal, or a trade.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Surnames | Epithets |
|---|---|---|---|
| Lorenzo | Lucia | da Ponte | the Bridge-Wise |
| Niccolò | Xara | Canaletti | the Unseen |
| Borso | Chiara | del Forno | Bobbin-Foot |
| Marco | Fiammetta | Riva | the Silent |
| Tommaso | Oria | Selci | Red-Handed |
| Andrea | Zilia | Molin | Ash-Thread |
(Bridge/Canal/Market)
Three-Queens Bridge with stacked stalls; Archivolt arcade of clerks; Salt Gate quay with customs.
Spades — Places
Three-Queens Bridge — Stacked market stalls; cells under arches, reputations made and broken. The cells are for those who could not settle their standing. The walls are washed with canal water so no one forgets the smell.
[TRADE]The Archivolt — Arcaded street of clerks, seals, and quiet knives. The clerks write in lemon juice. Heat reveals the truth — or a facsimile. The ninth seal is never used. It belongs to the Ragman.
[LAW]Silk Exchange — Floor with chalk circles and clappers for opening bids. The clappers are whale ribs. The bids echo, and sometimes the echo answers. The ninth bid is never recorded — it is the Ragman’s portion.
[TRADE]Salt Gate Quay — Rope booms, chalk tallies, tired eyes; customs and silver. The chalk is mixed with ground bone. A false sign writes itself in a dead hand. The ninth sign is always wrong — by design.
[AUTHORITY]Palazzo della Matrona — Ruling seat with private river stairs; velvet and iron. The Matrona’s barge is rowed by those who have repaid their standing in years, not silver. The ninth oar is never used. It is for the Hollow.
[AUTHORITY]Spindle Tower — Creaking windlass-lifts and posted rates; heights and hazards. The lift operator has a bell. He rings it once for every passenger who crossed without leave. He never rings it nine times.
[LABOR]Ropewalk Sheds — Arrow-straight; bruisers hired by the yard, muscle for hire. The rope-walkers never look back. They say a rope remembers who pulled it last. The ninth rope in every coil is cut — a tithe to the Ragman.
[LABOR]Old Arsenal — Free Company’s barracks now; arms and ambitions stored. The arsenal’s bell rings at odd hours. No one admits ringing it. The ninth ring is a summons. No one has answered it in a generation.
[MILITARY]Exchange Coffee House — Where merchants insure cargo and spread rumors. The coffee is thick as mud. The policy rates change with the wind. The ninth cup is never poured — it is for the witness no one wants.
[SOCIAL]Flood-Stairs — Bronze flood marks, bell rope ready when the Strand runs wild. The flood marks go up to nine. The ninth step is underwater — always. That step belongs to the Tide Father.
[WEATHER]Basilica of Azerin — Weaver-saint; confraternity rooms hum with vows. The saint’s icon has one eye. The other was traded for the secret of the unbroken thread. The ninth vow whispered here is heard by the Hollow, not the saint.
[FAITH]Burdened Arcade — Row of pawn shops and surety houses; promises carved on the pillars. The pillars are scored with signs. The oldest ones are from three centuries ago. The ninth mark on each pillar is a scar — the Ragman’s signature.
[WEIGHT]The Unwritten Canal — A buried waterway that appears only in the lowest tides. It leads to a vault where pacts are kept that were never meant to be spoken. The ninth pact is blank — it awaits a name.
[MYSTERY]
(Guild/Factor/Crown)
Bobbin-runner child with feet sure on parapets; foreign factor seeking warehouse and friend at customs; a Contarini factor offering a sealed charter; a Ragman’s bravo with a knotted cord around his wrist.
Hearts — People & Factions
Bobbin-Runner — Child with sure feet on parapets, rumors in pocket. She ties a knot in her apron string for every secret she carries. The apron is nearly solid knots. The ninth knot is always loose — for the secret she cannot tell.
[STEALTH]Mulberry Steward — Counting leaves; desperate for pickers, quick with silver. His left hand is missing two fingers — lost to a cocoon-rot curse. He calls it a trade. The Silk Mother still holds claim to the ninth.
[LABOR]Foreign Factor — Seeking warehouse and friend at customs; connections for sale. He carries three scrolls. One for the Matron, one for the Archivolt, one for himself. The ninth page of each is blank — for the promise he has not yet spoken.
[TRADE]Guildmistress — Silk guilds’ hands stained, permits tighter than purse strings. She can tell your guild by the thread on your cuff. She never forgets a pattern. Her own cuff has a ninth thread — black, a sign of her silent alliance.
[AUTHORITY]Bridge Bailiff — Rents stalls, sells gossip by the breath; power in position. He rings a small bell before each announcement. The tone tells you if it’s truth or theater. He never rings it nine times.
[LAW]Archivolt Clerk — “Fixes” missing entries — for a fee; law as service. His seal is a wolf’s head. He stamps it with a whisper. The ninth seal he stamps each day is never recorded — it is a gift to the Ragman.
[LAW]Watch Captain — Condotta to three lords; passwords change with the wind. He wears a mask on feast days; no one has seen his face in seven years. The mask was a gift from the Contarini. He does not know what bond it placed upon him. The ninth mask in his closet is the Ragman’s face.
[MILITARY]Exchange Caller — A clap can still a thousand voices; auction master. He lost his voice to a curse. Now he claps in a language only the bids understand. The ninth clap is silence — the Ragman’s answer.
[TRADE]Covenant Broker — Writes pledges on cargo, lives, and sometimes conspiracies. His quill is a stiletto. He has used it as both. The ninth pledge he writes each month is hollow — a tithe to the Bookman.
[FINANCE]Night-Boat Smuggler — “Ravel,” silent oar, louder favors; shadows for silver. His boat has no name. The canal would remember it, and memory is a kind of tax. He works for the Tide Father. The ninth passenger he carries each night is not charged — they answer an old summons.
[STEALTH]The Matron — Patient, velvet, iron; the city’s thread pulled through her hands. She has never raised her voice. The city learned to fear her silences. Her cord has nine knots — one for each family bound to her by old pacts. The ninth knot is loose. It is for the one who will betray her.
[AUTHORITY]Lame King’s Envoy — Velvet boots; claims certain alleys “protected.” His cane is hollow. Inside is a letter of marque that expired a decade ago. The ninth alley on his list is the Ragman’s court. He does not go there.
[POLITICS]Saint of Warps — If real: sees curses braided in cloth; holy unraveler. Her eyes are milk-white. She sees not the cloth, but the threads of promise within. The ninth thread she cuts each day is her own — she does not know why.
[FAITH]
(Flood/Interdict/Riot)
Flood siren with gates lowering — move crates or kiss them goodbye; quarantine flag at the tannery sealing a district; Loom strike over unpaid wages.
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Flood Siren — Gates lowering; move crates or kiss them goodbye to tide. The gate-keeper’s palm is marked with a bell. Cross it with silver to hurry. The ninth bell is the Tide Father’s. He does not hurry.
[WEATHER]Quarantine Flag — A district sealed; your cargo implicated. The flag is brushed with ash and something else — something that smells of graves. The ninth flag raised each year is the Ragman’s signal.
[AUTHORITY]Loom Strike — Weavers idle over wage disputes; streets fill with idle frames. The striking weavers wear red threads around their wrists. They will not speak first. The ninth weaver in the picket line wears black — the Silk Mother’s thread.
[LABOR]Seal Counterfeit — Discovered at Archivolt; all charters frozen. The forged seal is warm. The real one is cold. Touch both to know which is which. The ninth seal in the Archivolt is the Ragman’s. It is never cold.
[LAW]Bridge Riot — A dropped stall blocks lanes; tempers boil faster than kettle steam. The riot started over a missed bell-ring. Or a stolen bolt. Or a look. The ninth stone thrown always hits a Ragman’s bravo. He does not forget.
[SOCIAL]Condottieri Flip — Colors change; watchwords shift, escorts vanish. The captain’s new banner is stitched with thread from his old captain’s shroud. The ninth thread is from a banner that never fell — the Ragman’s.
[MILITARY]Pledge Fraud — A warehouse burns; the pledge is a forgery. The broker has fled. His scrolls are full of ships that never sailed. The ninth page of each scroll is blank — for the ship that will sink tonight.
[FINANCE]Coin Clipping — Light silver floods the market; the Exchange locks its doors. The clippings were melted into a statue of the Matron. She is not amused. The ninth coin in every bag is a clipping — the Ragman’s tithe.
[TRADE]Salt-Tax Doubled — At Salt Gate; boats stack three deep, gifts flow. The tax collector wears a mask. Beneath it, his face is a salt-caked skull. The ninth boat in line is never taxed — it belongs to the Tide Father.
[AUTHORITY]Duel Challenge — Booked on Three-Queens Bridge; you’re named as seconds. The challenge is written on silk. Burn it to refuse — and lose face forever. The ninth duel of the season is always fought over a Ragman’s thread.
[SOCIAL]Exchange Corner — Rivals hoard raw silk; prices go vertical. The cornering merchant has a book bound in human skin. The names inside are his competitors. The ninth name is his own — a reminder.
[TRADE]Saint’s Procession — Closes half the wards; ignore at peril, faith walks the streets. The icon weeps oil. The faithful collect it in silver cups. The ninth cup is never filled — it is for the saint’s tears that have not yet fallen.
[FAITH]Curse Awakened — In canals: no route reaches the address you seek. The water is still. Your reflection is gone. You are still here — for now. The ninth reflection in the canal is the Ragman’s. He is not reflected. He is behind you.
[DEATH]
(Permit/Seat/Escort)
Bridge token for peak-hour cart crossing free; Exchange floor pass; Matron’s seal for a single charter.
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Bridge Token — One peak-hour cart crossing free; traffic as currency. The token is a bronze coin with a hole in the center. The hole is the toll. The ninth token minted each year is the Ragman’s. He does not use it.
[TRAVEL]Exchange Pass — Day pass to trade without sponsor; freedom in paper. The pass is stamped with a spider. The spider’s legs are the signatures of three guilds. The ninth leg is missing — it belongs to the Ragman.
[TRADE]Watergate Priority — Skip one flood closure when it matters; tide waits for none. The priority token is a dried eel skin. Show it, and the gate-keeper spits but stands aside. The ninth token is the Tide Father’s. He never waits.
[TRAVEL]Sealed Indulgence — Retrofit a missing entry; past deals stand. The indulgence is written in lemon juice. Heat it to see the terms. The ninth indulgence is blank — it awaits a name and a reckoning.
[LAW]Warehouse Seal — From Matron’s office; rivals legally shut out. The seal is a brass bell. Ring it once to claim the space. The ninth seal is the Ragman’s. He does not ring it. He knocks.
[AUTHORITY]Ropewalk Trust — Hire crews before you have silver; muscle on promise. The trust is a knotted rope. Cut a knot for each promise claimed. The ninth knot is the Ragman’s. Cutting it costs more than silver.
[LABOR]Arsenal Key — One night’s issue for retinue; arms in trusted hands. The key is a finger bone. The lock is a gauntleted fist. The ninth key is the Ragman’s. He has the fist.
[MILITARY]Pledge of Surety (Blank) — Insure one cargo against any loss; the pledge pays in silver. The pledge is a prayer. The prayer is a pact. The pact is a wager. The ninth pledge is the Bookman’s. He always wins.
[FINANCE]Condotta Rider — City watch escorts through any ward, once. The rider’s horse has iron shoes. The sparks tell him who to watch. The ninth rider is the Ragman’s. He rides alone.
[MILITARY]Matron’s Audience — Private whisper becomes policy; velvet commands. The Matron’s ear is a bell. Speak into it, and the city listens — once. The ninth audience is never granted. The Matron does not explain why.
[AUTHORITY]Toll-Farm Share — On Three-Queens stalls for a season; profit in vendors. The share is a tally stick. Break it in half to claim your portion. The ninth share is the Ragman’s. He does not break it. He collects.
[FINANCE]Golden Thread — Temporary charter to set tolls on a named canal. The thread is real gold. It will not break — but it will stretch. The ninth thread is the Tide Father’s. He sets tolls in silence.
[AUTHORITY]The Unwritten Bond — A blank parchment signed by a dead seal-keeper. Fill it in. The seal-keeper’s ghost will enforce it. The ghost has a sense of humor. The ninth bond is blank — it awaits a name that has never been written. The Ragman keeps it.
[MAGIC]
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 (permits, passes, seals) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo silk and water motifs — threads that bind, currents that remember, bargains that stain the hand. Also echo the ninth: a missing step, an unwritten charter, a silence where a name should be.
Additional Features (Cultural Mechanics)
The Measure of a Favor (Patron–Client Bond): In Silkstrand, favors are the true measure of standing. Each favor has a measure — a sense of what it cost to grant and what it will cost to call in. Favors are remembered not in scrolls but in threads — a red thread tied around the wrist of the client, a black thread around the wrist of the patron. When the favor is answered, the threads are cut. A character may start with 1d3 favor threads (minor promises owed or owed to them). The GM may award threads for significant aid. A thread can be spent to gain +1 Position on a social roll with the patron’s faction, or to demand a minor service (safe passage, a night’s shelter, a warning). Holding more than nine threads is dangerous — the ninth thread is always the Hollow’s.
Minor Favor (1 thread): A night’s shelter, a message delivered, a blind eye turned.
Significant Favor (3 threads): An introduction to a patron, an altered record, a small stake.
Major Favor (6 threads): A change in policy, a life spared, a charter voided.
Unpayable Measure (9 threads): The Ragman’s favor. You do not want to carry this. The ninth thread is never cut.
Patron–Client Mini-Generator (d6): When the party seeks a patron or encounters a client relationship, roll to determine the nature of the bond.
Blood Bond: The patron and client share a family tie — or a family feud. The promise is old, deep, and bitter.
Silk Bond: The patron holds the client’s bond in the form of a silk charter. The terms are written, but the reckoning is not.
Shadow Bond: The patron is a crime lord (the Ragman, the Tide Father, the Silk Mother). The client owes a service that cannot be named aloud.
Stone Bond: The patron is a patrician (Contarini, Morosini, Dandolo). The client holds a charter or a seal. The promise is public but the measure is private.
Bridge Bond: The patron and client met on a bridge at night. The favor was sworn without witnesses. Only the water remembers.
Ninth Bond: The patron is the Hollow. The client does not know they are bound. The ninth thread is already tied.
Duel Etiquette: Duels fought on bridges draw crowds eager to wager on blood. Refusing stains a name worse than losing. The winner may claim the loser’s bridge token (if any) as a trophy. A duel may also be fought to settle a favor’s measure — the loser’s bond is transferred to the winner’s patron.
Canal Omens: Canals run strange colors at dawn; red foretells riots, blue brings calm, black means a curse has awakened. A successful Wits + Lore test (DV 3) allows a character to interpret the omen and gain +1 die on the next roll to avoid or exploit the coming event. Green water means the Hollow is near.
Matron’s Seal: Any charter bearing her seal is law — but the Matron is known to rescind seals without warning, leaving promises tangled. A seal may be challenged by producing an older Matron’s seal; the older one always holds. The ninth seal is the Matron’s own — she has never used it.
Exchange Volatility Timer [6]: Tracks market instability. Each time a major cargo is seized, a trade route is cut, or a merchant falters, tick the timer. At 3: prices of all goods increase by 1 Supply. At 6: a panic hits — the Exchange closes for 1d3 days, and all standing agreements are voided unless witnessed by the Matron. The ninth time this timer fills in a decade, the Ragman collects.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Saint of Accounts — The Witness. Every transaction is a prayer. Every signature is a confession.
The Unbroken Seal — Mykkiel. Charters are sacred. To break one is to break the city.
The Tide Father — Khemesh. The canal’s hunger; the pull of a promise never kept.
The Lantern Bearer — The Traveler. The light that guides lost ships — and the lost.
The Ragman — The Ninth. The unspoken promise. The thread that is never cut.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
Saint Lazarus of the Unwritten Accord (The Witness): The Archivolt clerks keep a sealed archive of unwritten pacts — promises that were never stamped. The Order of the Witness claims that reading even one of these binds the reader to fulfil it. The Matron has never opened the archive. The Red Clerk has, and his seal now weeps blood. The ninth pact in the archive is blank — it awaits the Ragman’s name.
Saint Fina of the Silken Veil (Isoka): The Basilica of Azerin has a side chapel dedicated to the Shedding Saint, whose mosaic shows a silkworm breaking its cocoon. Pilgrims who leave a confession there wake the next morning having forgotten one sin — but also one kindness they received. The Guildmistress permits the chapel because the offerings keep the silk guilds wealthy. The ninth confession each day is heard by the Hollow, not the saint.
The Weavers of Mercy (The Silk-Shrouded): A hospice near the Salt Gate is run by gray-robed healers who ask no payment. They are tolerated because they treat wounded condottieri for free, but the Black Purse faction suspects they also ease burdens — scrolls left near their doors have been found blank. The Order’s rule: “You do not pay back. You pay forward. But woe to the one who strikes a healer.” The ninth bed in the hospice is always empty — it is for the Ragman, should he ever need mercy.
The Scroll of Unbroken Promises (The Syndicate Seal): A small but influential order of clerks based in the Archivolt. They adjudicate disputes over charters, cargo claims, and bridge tolls. Their judgments are always delivered in triplicate, and they accept no bribes — only binding oaths. Those who lie before a Covenant judge find that their next three shipments are impounded. The ninth judgment each year is never delivered — it is the Ragman’s veto.
The Ninth: In any Silkstrand scene, the ninth bridge crossed in a day leads somewhere unexpected. The wise stop at eight and take a boat. Those who cross the ninth are said to hear a faint laugh from the water — and their pacts are never quite fulfilled. The ninth bridge is the Ragman’s. He built it. He did not pay.
Silkstrand Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Canal: Toss a crust into the water before crossing a new bridge. Ignore the first Bridge Riot penalty.
[SUPERSTITION]Knot the Thread: Tie a single knot in a scrap of silk. Cancel Seal Counterfeit or take –1 die on your next negotiation (your choice).
[SUPERSTITION]Name to the Water: Whisper a client’s name into the canal at dawn. Gain +1 Effect when collecting from them this scene, but mark Bond to the Archivolt.
[SUPERSTITION]The Ninth Thread: If you hold nine favor threads, cut one immediately. The ninth thread is the Ragman’s. He will find you.
[SUPERSTITION]
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from city watch or rival merchants.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby crowds or bridge traffic.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for trackers or customs.
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: Bridge bailiff or guildmaster becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to crowd movement or flood.
Foe Appears: A rival merchant or hired bravo 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 condottieri, smugglers, or guild enforcers arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes — flood hits/charter voided/duel declared.
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: The Matron, Watch Captain, Guildmistress, or Ragman intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically — flood rises/bridge collapses/procession blocks streets.
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
Silkstrand (Bridges & Trade): Bridge planks shift underfoot, agreements restructure mid-speech, silver changes hands without touch.
Silkstrand (Canals): Water levels rise without warning, gondolas block routes, a sudden fog hides a rival’s approach.
Silkstrand (Duel Culture): Challenges are issued mid-conversation, seconds appear from the crowd, honor prices rise with each breath.
Silkstrand (The Ninth): A bridge appears where none was before. A charter’s ninth clause writes itself. A thread tightens around your wrist. The Ragman is watching.
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Stealth): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Fog Bank.
Cut the Bridge (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a bridge token is in your possession, +1 die.
Weather the Flood (Endurance + Athletics): On a hit in Flood Siren, you pick who keeps their footing; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (three-phase foes)
The Ragman (Lord of Unspoken Pacts) — Phases: Polite Reception → Forgotten Promise → The Ninth Thread. Cracks: burn a favor thread in public; settle a bond with a story, not silver; cut the ninth thread — but it will grow back.
Archivolt Agent (collector of “missing entries”) — Phases: Quiet Inserts → Scroll Hunts → Bridge Vetoes. Cracks: win a duel for precedent; expose a hidden altar; break his pen with the Matron’s Seal.
The Tide Father’s Enforcer (a living pledge) — Phases: Grace Period → Due Date → Reclamation. Cracks: pay in stories; find the original bound party; renegotiate the bond under a neutral bridge — the ninth bridge, which does not exist.
In Silkstrand, power flows through commerce, connections, and the careful weaving of influence — but the loom belongs to the patrons, not the merchants. The Matron maintains control through a web of guilds, factors, and condottieri, each bound by charters and customs that shift like the tides. The old patrician families hold the long view — a promise recalled after twenty years is still a promise. The crime lords hold the short view — a knife in the ribs settles a score by morning.
For the GM: Patronage in Silkstrand revolves around access — to bridges, to warehouses, to the Exchange floor itself — but access is granted through trust, not purchased with silver. Rewards often take the form of tokens, seals, or safe passage that can be leveraged into greater influence, but each such reward carries a thread — a promise owed to the patron who granted it. To emphasize the layered client–patron dynamic:
Tie rewards to visible symbols (seals, tokens, charters) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided — and that carry a thread of promise to a specific patron (a Contarini seal, a Ragman’s knot, a Matron’s ribbon).
Let rival patrons (Contarini vs. Ragman, Morosini vs. Tide Father) issue conflicting charters, forcing players to choose whose favor matters more — and whose measure they are willing to carry.
Use the bridges, markets, and Exchange as arenas for social contests, where reputation and connections determine success — and where a well-timed favor can turn the tide.
Track favor threads as a tangible resource. Holding threads is power; holding too many is danger. The ninth thread is always the Hollow’s.
In Silkstrand, your word is your bond, and your bond determines whether you rise or drown. But your bond is also a thread, and every thread has two ends. One end is in your hand. The other is held by someone who has been playing longer than you.
Midh-Akhaz
The Violet Gate.
Coin talks. Grass walks. Blood settles the rest.
I am a Horse-Braid Apprentice. I tie a new knot for every paying passenger. My hair is a map of debts — and grudges. The wind carries names, not ledgers, but here, in the shadow of the Oasis Compact, both trade and oaths change hands. Do not mistake our patience for weakness. The grass remembers every hoof that crossed it.
Midh Ahkaz is not a city. It is a wound that learned to trade. A day’s ride north of the Ecktorian border, it squats on the edge of the Violet Steppe like a patient wolf. No walls. No gates. Just rings of felt tents, latrine trenches, and the smell of horse sweat, cedar smoke, and the faint copper tang of blood money.
The grass grows tall enough to hide a body. The locals cut it back at dawn — but never at dusk, because the things that crawl through it at night have sharp teeth and no patience for property lines. Ecktorian emissaries call this place “the Brink.” Caravan guards call it home. Thieves call it paradise.
Every morning, the Coin-Weigh Tribunal opens its scales under a canvas dome. Every night, the Dust Market auctions goods that fell off a wagon — or off a corpse. The Khatun’s word is law until someone stronger speaks. And in the Silver Stall Stable, a horse thief can buy a fresh mount with a story and a knife.
Never refuse the guest-cup. The first pour is courtesy. The second is negotiation. The third is a blood-price unspoken. And the fourth — the fourth means you’re already dead, you just haven’t stopped breathing.
— Horse-Braid Apprentice, who ties a knot for every secret she carries
What do people eat for breakfast? Curd cheese and flatbread — the cheese is from the Ykrul herds, the bread is baked in the embers of a dung fire. It tastes of smoke and the open sky. The poor dip it in salt; the rich dip it in honey stolen from a border hive.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To count horses. Midh Ahkaz children are taught the eight gaits of a healthy mount: walk, trot, canter, gallop, pace, amble, rack, and the ninth — the death-sprint that only a stolen horse knows. The ninth gait is never taught; it is discovered when the rider’s life depends on it.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their braids. Ykrul warriors braid their hair with clan colors; Vilikari traders wear oiled braids with silver beads. A stranger whose braids are loose has just fought. A stranger whose braids are cut has lost a blood-price. A stranger with no braids is either a slave or a ghost. Neither stays long.
What is the most common crime? Grass-right forgery — but forgery is not a crime, it is a negotiation. The Oasis Compact issues branded sticks for grazing rights. A clever carver can duplicate the brand. The penalty is exile into the tall grass at dusk. The grass does not have a court of appeals.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Khatun is not the only ruler. The Silver Stall Stable master knows where every stolen horse sleeps. The Dust Market auctioneer knows the price of every sin. And the Iron Well keeper knows the name of everyone who will die before the next grass moon. The three of them meet once a season. No one records what they say. The grass records it.
Where do people go when they die? To the grass. The dead are not buried. Their bodies are carried beyond the caravan rings and left for the wolves and the wind. The grass grows tall and green where a body falls. A patch of deep violet is a sign that the dead were not properly mourned. The locals avoid those patches.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a blood-price in silver, weighed on the Coin-Weigh Tribunal’s scales. If the scale tips in your favor, you are forgiven. If it tips against you, you owe a horse. If the scale balances, you owe a story — and the story must be true, and the true story must make the wronged party weep. If it does not, you owe a finger.
What is the most important festival? The Grass Moon (autumn equinox). The violet seed-heads glow under moonlight. The tribes ride in a great circle, singing the names of the dead. At midnight, the Khatun pours a cup of water onto the earth. If the water sinks, the winter will be mild. If it pools, the winter will be hungry. If it steams, the Hollow is walking. The festival ends at dawn. No one sleeps.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Oasis Compact’s original seal was not lost. It was stolen by a Vilikari factor who wanted to control water rights. The factor is still alive, living in the Foreign Quarter under a false name. The seal is hidden in a hollow horse skull buried under the Grass Ring. The skull belonged to the Khatun’s favorite stallion. The stallion did not die of old age.
Midh Ahkaz — “The Violet Gate”
Key Demographics: Ykrul and Humans
Entanglements
- To the West:
Vilikari – The Foedus Stone’s jurisdiction ends at the Violet Gate; the two-law dialectic is a brisk trade. The gate is the edge of the Federate King’s memory.
- To the North:
Ykrul – The Khatun’s riders and the Khagan’s envoys pass through; the gate is a neutral ground for tribute. The grass is tall, and the dead do not rest.
- To the South East:
Acasia – The Broken Marches’ mercenaries and refugees seek shelter at the caravanserai; the Curse does not cross the gate’s shadow. The Violet Gate is a sieve, not a wall.
Quick Reference
Tagline: Coin talks. Grass walks. Blood settles the rest.
Khatun of the Ring (Elite): “The wind carries names, not tallies. But here, in the shadow of the Oasis Compact, both trade and oaths change hands. Do not mistake our patience for weakness. The grass remembers every hoof that crossed it. And now the serpents coil beneath the dust—the Shedder offers renewal, but her cup is poison.”
Vilikari Factor (Commoner): “Ecktoria calls it uncivilized. We call it unbeatable. No writs, no seals, no questions. Coin talks. The rest walks. And if a snake offers you a sip from its cup, walk faster. The Shedder’s smile has too many teeth.”
Genre / Mood: Frontier grit, steppe noir, law of the rope and the blade, creeping cult horror.
Starting Location: The Violet Bazaar at dusk—torches gutter, braids slap against leather vests, and a one-eyed horse trader spits into the dust at your feet. “You’re new. The Oasis Well runs low, the Khatun’s coughing blood, and someone’s been passing hollow silver. Pick a problem — or I’ll pick one for you. And keep your hand off your steel near the Serpent Pit. The Shedder’s children have eyes everywhere.”
The Almanac of Ordinary Days
A commoner’s view, overheard at the Silver Stall Stable.
What do people eat for breakfast? Curd cheese and flatbread — the cheese is from the Ykrul herds, the bread is baked in dung-fire embers. It tastes of smoke and the open sky. The poor dip it in salt; the rich dip it in honey stolen from a border hive.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To count horses. Midh Ahkaz children learn the eight gaits of a healthy mount: walk, trot, canter, gallop, pace, amble, rack, and the ninth — the death-sprint that only a stolen horse knows. The ninth gait is never taught; it is discovered when the rider’s life depends on it.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their braids. Ykrul warriors braid their hair with clan colors; Vilikari traders wear oiled braids with silver beads. A stranger whose braids are loose has just fought. A stranger whose braids are cut has lost a blood-price. A stranger with no braids is either a slave or a ghost. Neither stays long.
What is the most common crime? Grass-right forgery — but forgery is not a crime, it is a negotiation. The Oasis Compact issues branded sticks for grazing rights. A clever carver can duplicate the brand. The penalty is exile into the tall grass at dusk. The grass does not have a court of appeals.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Khatun is not the only ruler. The Serpent Cult’s high priestess, the Shedder, knows the price of every sin. Her followers gather in the sunken pit behind the Dust Market, and the venom they drink either kills or transforms. The three powers — the Khatun, the Dust Market auctioneer, and the Iron Well keeper — meet once a season. No one records what they say. The grass records it.
Where do people go when they die? To the grass. Bodies are carried beyond the caravan rings and left for the wolves and the wind. The grass grows tall and green where a body falls. A patch of deep violet is a sign that the dead were not properly mourned. The locals avoid those patches.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a blood-price in silver, weighed on the Bronze Court’s scales. If the scale tips in your favor, you are forgiven. If it tips against you, you owe a horse. If the scale balances, you owe a story — and the story must be true, and the true story must make the wronged party weep. If it does not, you owe a finger.
What is the most important festival? The Grass Moon (autumn equinox). Violet seed-heads glow under moonlight. The tribes ride in a great circle, singing the names of the dead. At midnight, the Khatun pours a cup of water onto the earth. If the water sinks, the winter will be mild. If it pools, the winter will be hungry. If it steams, the Hollow is walking. The festival ends at dawn. No one sleeps.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Oasis Compact’s original seal was not lost. It was stolen by a Vilikari factor who wanted to control water rights. The factor is still alive, living in the Foreign Quarter under a false name. The seal is hidden in a hollow horse skull buried under the Grass Ring. The skull belonged to the Khatun’s favorite stallion. The stallion did not die of old age. And beneath the Iron Well, the First Shedder waits—a serpent that has not eaten in three hundred years, feeding on the cult’s offerings.
Prominent NPCs of Midh Ahkaz
| Name | Role/Title | Motivation | Rumoured Quirk |
|---|---|---|---|
| Khatun of the Ring | Clan-chief of seven clans | Keep the old oaths and resist Ecktorian encroachment | Lost an eye to a Linn raider; killed him with his own hook. Her iron hook has a bell that never rings false. |
| The Shedder | High Priestess of the Serpent Cult | Offer the Cup of Renewal and gather the worthy | Has not aged in twenty years. Her snake-scale tattoos move when she is angry. |
| Bronze Court Clerk | Magistrate of the Oasis Compact | Weigh every claim without favor | Records weights in blood. Her ledger has nine columns; the ninth is blank. |
| Steppe Ranger | Tracker and feud mediator | Keep the peace between clans | Wears a wolf-tail cloak. Never draws his bow unless watched. His arrows are fletched with crow feathers. |
| Iron Well Keeper | Vengeance broker | Accept names written in ash | Mute, scarred. A drink from the well costs a memory; a death costs a fortune. |
Names of Midh Ahkaz
First Names (Male): Orun, Tokan, Korvash, Dmytro, Sarkis, Kostya
First Names (Female): Yara, Szik, Olena, Anush, Zoya, Nadia
Surnames: Gray Ash, Iron-Blooded, Swift, Voloshyn, Bondarenko, Torosyan
Epithets: the Disgraced, the Iron-Blooded, the Swift, the Gray, Tide-Foot, the Unpaid
Spades — Places
Violet Bazaar — Felt stalls, chalk circles, horse traders and rumor merchants. The chalk circles are for disputes. Step inside and speak truth — or settle in grass. Blood washes off the chalk, but the stain stays.
[TRADE]Bronze Court — Tariff court under a canvas dome; scales of bronze and iron. The scales were blessed by a dying Sky-Speaker. They tip even when the wind is still. The clerk has never smiled.
[JUSTICE]Oasis Well — Stone-rimmed pool, token-keeper with a leather bag of water rights. Each token is a carved pebble. Lose it, and your herd drinks dust. The keeper’s knife is sharper than his tongue.
[SURVIVAL]Steppe Ranger Camp — Tent line on the eastern edge; trackers, scouts, feud mediators. The rangers wear wolf tails. They do not smile — they wait. Their campfire is never allowed to go out.
[WILD]Caravan Rings — Concentric circles of wagon shelters; fires lit inward, watch posts on ox carts. The inner ring is for sworn allies. Outsiders sleep in the second ring, uneasy — and a knife in the boot.
[TRAVEL]Sky-Speaker’s Cairn — Stone heap atop a low hill; wind-knot ropes and bones. The shaman leaves offerings of horsehair. The wind carries his prayers to Kuva — and sometimes his curses.
[RITUAL]Dust Market — No-questions auction at the city’s edge; stolen goods, cursed relics, bad memories. The auctioneer wears a hooded mask. No one knows his face. No one has asked twice.
[UNDERWORLD]Silver Stall Stable — Remount station; horses for hire, gossip for free, blood for more. The stable master has three fingers on his left hand. He lost the others in a bet over a mare. He won the bet.
[TRAVEL]Grass Ring — Ritual dueling ground; mourners and bookies share benches. The grass grows back faster after a duel. The dead fertilize the peace.
[COMBAT]Foreign Quarter — Ecktorian, Vhasian, and Viterran merchants in permanent felt mansions. The Ecktorian envoy winters here. He has not left in five years. He has a name on a list in three countries — but Midh Ahkaz does not extradite.
[POLITICS]Khatun’s Ring — Largest tent, carpeted with woven battle scenes; the old chieftain’s seat. The carpet is made of enemy cloaks. Each sash is a surrendered banner. The air smells of smoke, old blood, and the fear of petitioners.
[AUTHORITY]Under-Arcades — Earthen tunnels below the bazaar; root-walled, bone-dusted. The walls are packed with bone dust and old burrows. The dead whisper route tips — for a price. The trade is never silver.
[STEALTH]Iron Well — Ancient Aeler shaft, now used for vengeance contracts and whispered names. The water tastes of rust and memory. Those who drink never lie again — or never speak. The keeper writes the names of the condemned in ash. The ash floats.
[DEATH]Serpent Pit (Cult Temple) — A sunken amphitheater behind the Dust Market, reeking of incense and old venom. The walls are lined with shed skins — some as long as a horse. At midnight, the faithful drink from a bronze cup. Some rise renewed. Some do not rise at all. The Shedder has not aged in twenty years.
[MYSTERY][DANGER]
Hearts — People & Factions
Horse-Braid Apprentice — Young Ykrul with a head full of trade routes and a knot diary. She ties a new braid for every paying passenger. Her hair is a map of promises — and grudges.
[TRADE]Ostrikari Arms-Master — Selling short bows and longer grudges; fights for coin. He names each bow after a dead rival. The bows never miss. His left ear is missing — a score he settled in flesh.
[COMBAT]Bronze Court Clerk — Ink-stained, patient, scales in her eyes; never lies, never forgives. She records weights in blood. A single drop seals a verdict. She has never been wrong — or so she says.
[JUSTICE]Vilikari Factor — Braided, oiled, quick with a smile and a second set of weights. His caravan has three names. Only the real one buys safe passage. The other two are for the tax man and the grave.
[TRADE]Steppe Ranger — Tracker with a wolf-tail cloak and a blood-oath to the Sky-Speaker. He never draws his bow unless watched. Hunger is his real weapon. His arrows are fletched with crow feathers.
[WILD]Tokan (Ykrul Scout) — Mute, sharp-eyed, always smelling the wind; her ears miss nothing. She signs with her knuckles. Three taps is “danger.” One tap is “run.” No taps means you are already dead.
[STEALTH]Ecktoria Emissary — Proud, wax-sealed, fuming at the “primitive” customs. He carries a copy of Imperial Code that he has never opened. The flies love his ink. The locals love his purse.
[POLITICS]Sky-Speaker’s Shadow — Elder’s quiet apprentice; listens more than the wind. She can name every clan’s sky-omen. She cannot name her own origin. Her eyes are the color of ash.
[RITUAL]Knot-Keeper (Tulkani) — Counts caravan promises with a rope of nine strands. Each knot is a promise. Untie one and the bond dissolves. Cut one and the one who swore dies in his sleep. No one knows how.
[SOCIAL]Dust Market Auctioneer — Hooded, genderless voice; knows the weight of every sin. The hammer is a thigh bone. The block is a skull altar from the Direwood. The skull’s jaw moves when the price is right.
[UNDERWORLD]Khatun of the Ring — Gray-haired, one-eyed, still deadly at sixty; speaks for seven clans. She lost her eye to a Linn raider. She killed him with his own hook. She keeps the hook on her belt.
[AUTHORITY]Kuva’s Voice (Wandering Priest) — Weathered, ash-marked, offers omen readings for grass. He prays to the sky by throwing bones. The bones never lie — they just mislead. The ash on his forehead is from a fire that hasn’t been lit yet.
[RITUAL]Iron Well Keeper (Vengeance Broker) — Mute, scarred, accepts names written in ash. A drink from the well costs a memory. A death costs a fortune. His mark is carved on his own arm — the names move.
[DEATH]The Shedder (Serpent Cult High Priestess) — A woman with snake-scale tattoos covering her arms, her voice a dry rustle. She offers the Cup of Renewal. Drink, and she promises you will shed your weakness. Some wake stronger. Some wake as snakes. She never drinks herself.
[MYSTIC][DANGER]
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Dry Well Ration — Water shares halved; prices spike, tempers fray.
[SURVIVAL][SOCIAL]The token-keeper has a list. The list has a knife mark beside your name. He didn’t put it there.Blood-Claim Feud — A killing in the Horse Ring; kinsmen demand redress in silver or flesh.
[WEIGHT][COMBAT]The victim’s tribe drums the death rhythm. Every beat is a warning. The crowd is already wagering on the retaliation.Locust Swarm — Grass blackens; caravans stranded, fodder worthless.
[WEATHER][TRAVEL]The swarm leaves a sticky residue. It smells of burnt honey and dread. The locusts spell words as they fly — sometimes a name, sometimes a warning.Hollow Silver — Light silver floods the Dust Market; Oasis Compact inquiry.
[WEIGHT][JUSTICE]The hollow coins are warm. The real ones are cold. Touch quickly. The maker has a scar on his left thumb.Grass Fire — Wind-whipped flame from the east; evacuations, scorched trade paths.
[WEATHER][DISASTER]The smoke spells a name. Yours. Or your enemy’s. Hard to tell. The fire moves against the wind.Horse Sickness — Contagion at the Silver Stall Stable; quarantines, lost mounts.
[DEATH][TRAVEL]The sick horses dream. Their screams sound like your last argument. The stable master is weeping. He never weeps.Khatun’s Illness — Old chieftain fading; succession knives out.
[POLITICS][WEIGHT]Her death will split seven clans. The Sword Oath lasts one year. The poisoner is already savoring his reward.Census Raid — Ecktorian legion patrol “just visiting”; tensions high, bribes higher.
[AUTHORITY][SOCIAL]The patrol leader wears a mask of imperial wax. Pull it off and see a dead man’s face. The face is yours — from a life you haven’t lived yet.Sky-Omen (Red Wind) — Dust storm from the Ashaani desert; all navigation Desperate.
[WEATHER][FEAR]The dust tastes of iron and old blood. Breathe it and dream of falling. The wind whispers a name. Listen and you’ll answer.Oath Challenge — A Kon’reh master demands geometry arbitration; your bond is the stake.
[WEIGHT][SOCIAL]The board is a painted skull. The pieces are horse teeth. The master hasn’t lost in forty years. He’s due.Court Strike — Bronze Court clerks refuse to speak the measures; trade freezes, tempers explode.
[JUSTICE][TRADE]The clerks chant a measuring song. Stop them before they reach nine. The ninth note is not a sound. It is a name.Duel for Rights — Two clans claim the same well; witnesses needed to prove water share.
[COMBAT][JUSTICE]The duel is fought with blunt spears. First blood wins the well. Both bleed. The well doesn’t care.Kuva’s Vengeance — The sky itself turns; hail, lightning, and a voice from the clouds.
[DEATH][PATRON]The voice names a sinner. Your name. The hail has teeth. The lightning writes your confession in the grass.Serpent’s Due — Cult enforcers demand a “gift” for the Shedder. Refuse, and you may wake with a viper in your saddlebag — or in your bed.
[DANGER][MYSTERY]They do not ask for coin. They ask for a name, a secret, or a hair from a purebred horse. The Shedder weaves these into her nest.
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Grass Right — One season of grazing on a named meadow; herders pay you tribute.
[TRAVEL][SOCIAL]The right is a branded stick. Burn it to end the lease — or renew. The brand is a wolf’s head. It howls when the meadow is overgrazed.Oath-Bead — A single knot of horsehair; compels a Kon’reh master to arbitrate your dispute.
[JUSTICE]The bead grows warm when the master speaks truth. Cold when he lies. He has never felt it grow cold.Water Share — Priority access to a well during drought; token from the Oasis Compact.
[SURVIVAL]The token is a polished pebble. Drop it in the well to claim your draw. The well will remember your face.Steppe Ranger Favor — One dangerous tracking job resolved off-screen.
[WILD]The ranger marks your name on his tent pole. He never forgets a favor. He also never forgets a slight.Vilikari Voucher — No-questions cargo space on three caravans; smuggle as you will.
[TRADE][STEALTH]The voucher is a strip of oiled leather. The factor’s scent guides the mules. The mules are smarter than the factor.Census Waiver — Ecktorian patrol leaves you alone for one crossing; paper shield.
[AUTHORITY]The waiver is stamped with a bear. The bear’s eyes follow you. The stamp is a lie. The waiver still works.Khatun’s Whistle — Summon a small warband once (Cap 3) for a single scene.
[COMBAT]The whistle is a hollow horse tooth. Blow it and the grass shivers. The riders come. They expect to be repaid in stories.Sky-Speaker’s Omen — One weather forecast that cannot fail; plan your escape.
[WEATHER]The omen is a bone thrown into fire. Read the cracks — carefully. The fire will answer. It will also ask.Silver Stall Chit — One free remount exchange; never be horseless.
[TRAVEL]The chit is a brass hoof. Present it and the stable master nods once. The horse will be fast. The horse may also be cursed.Burned Mark — A written promise from a rival, witnessed by three camp elders.
[WEIGHT][SOCIAL]The mark is burned into a leather strip. Wash it and the vow dissolves. Burn it and the rival dies in his sleep. No one knows why.Dust Market Share — A portion of the auctioneer’s commission for a season; wealth in sin.
[TRADE]The share is paid in mismatched coins. Spend them fast before they curse you. The auctioneer’s mask has a new scratch every week.Kin-Bound Bond — A criminal clan owes you a life; they will kill once for you — or die trying.
[DEATH][WEIGHT]The bond is a braid of enemy hair. Cut it to call the blood. The clan’s matriarch will come. She will ask whose.Seal of the Oasis Compact — Casting vote on any water right dispute. Once.
[JUSTICE][AUTHORITY]The seal is a bronze well with a snake curled at the bottom. Turn it and the water booms. The snake will bite if you turn it back.Cup of Renewal (Cult Favor) — A single sip from the Shedder’s cup. You may reroll any failed Body or Spirit roll once, but gain a permanent snake-scale mark on your palm. The mark will itch when the cult calls.
[MAGIC][DANGER]
Regional Mechanics & Lore
Kon’reh Arbitration: Disputes are settled on a board painted on hide. Winners gain seasonal rights. Losers yield grass or labor — or blood if they have neither left to give. The board is set up in the Grass Ring. The spectators bet on the outcome.
Grass Omens: The steppe flickers violet when rain is near. When the seed-heads droop at noon, a blood feud approaches. When they stand straight at midnight, the Hollow walks. No one stays outside when the seed-heads stand straight.
Khatun’s Braid: The chieftain’s hair holds the memory of every oath she swore. Cutting a braid voids a promise — but the severed braid becomes a curse token. The current Khatun has nine braids. She is saving the tenth for something important.
The Law of the Rope: Midh Ahkaz has no jail. Serious offenders are tied to a post in the Grass Ring and left for the steppe. If they survive the night, they are free — and must answer to the family of their victim. No one has survived the night in seven years.
The Shedding (Cult Rite): Once per month, the Serpent Cult holds the Rite of the Cup. Participants who survive the venom gain +1 die to resist poison and disease for one month, but also gain a random quirk (nightmares, a phobia of open flames, an insatiable hunger for raw meat). The GM may offer this as a bargain — but the cult always asks for something in return later.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Wind Father — The Traveler. He who reads the grass and knows the safe routes — for a share of the cargo.
The Scale Mother — Mykkiel. She who weighs the oath and the old score; her clerks carry knives.
The Grass King — Grimmir. The wild that pushes back against the ring of tents; he demands a sacrifice of horseflesh each spring.
The Toothless One — Malachai. A silver coin in the dust market that guarantees a fair deal — until the grass remembers.
The Shedder (Cult) — Isoka. She who teaches that weakness can be burned away. Her cup is poison. Her mercy is a fang.
Crom (Vilikari Barbarian Cult) — Unknown. A few Vilikari outcasts worship a god of uncivilized strength, called Crom. They say he sits on a mountain and does nothing, but that he laughs when you kill your enemy with your bare hands. His shrine is a pile of skulls behind a ruined bathhouse. No one knows if he exists. No one argues with his worshippers.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord run a “free soup” wagon near the Dust Market. They ask no coin — but they measure your shadow. A renegade Sister hides among the horse-braid apprentices, trying to untie her cord from a blood feud.
The Threshold Compendium: Saikou Ira once tracked a ghoul to the Under-Arcades. He left a silver mirror in the wall. It still shows the ghoul’s face. The ghoul is still watching.
Malachai, the Chained Angel: A broken Kon’reh board at the Iron Well is said to compel truth. Players who touch it gain +1 die to resist lies — but mark 1 Obligation to Malachai. The board was broken by a merchant who lied about a horse. The horse was a demon.
The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Midh Ahkaz psions are called “Wind-Readers.” They sense lies by the tremor in grass. The Khatun employs two; they never speak to each other. They communicate by writing in the dust. The dust blows away after each message.
Isoka’s Serpent Cult: The cult’s venom is said to be harvested from a great snake that lives in a sealed cave beneath the Iron Well. The snake is called the First Shedder. It has not eaten in three hundred years. It does not need to. It waits.
The Ninth: In any Midh Ahkaz scene, the ninth horse table in the Violet Bazaar sells nothing but bad advice. Spend a Boon to reroll a failed negotiation — but the advice may haunt you. The table is always empty except at midnight. At midnight, a hooded figure sits there. No one knows who.
Midh Ahkaz Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Hoofprint Pour: Pour a cup of water into the first hoofprint of a new horse. Ignore the first Horse Sickness penalty.
[SUPERSTITION]Braid the Knot: Tie a strand of mane hair around your wrist. Cancel Counterfeit Coin or take –1 die on your next Charisma roll (your choice).
[SUPERSTITION]Name to the Grass: Whisper an oath-breaker’s name into the wind at noon. Gain +1 Effect when collecting from them this scene, but mark Obligation to a Sky-Speaker.
[SUPERSTITION]Scale on the Tongue (Cult superstition): If a serpent crosses your path, spit three times. The next venomous bite against you automatically misses — but the Shedder will know your name.
[SUPERSTITION]
Thematic SB Spend Table (Midh Ahkaz)
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw attention from Steppe Rangers or Bronze Court clerks.
Noise: The sound carries across the grass; a rival clan’s scout overhears.
Trace: Hoofprints, broken grass, or losing an arrow marks your path.
Delay: A water ration takes longer; a horse tires without rest.
Grass Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Border riders converge on your position; a horn sounds.
Position Lost: You lose high ground/cover/the wind due to a grass fire or horse stampede.
Foe Appears: A vengeance broker, Ostrikari sell-sword, or clan champion arrives.
Gear Trouble: A bridle breaks, bow string snaps, waterskin leaks.
Oath Hearsay: A false rumor about your oath reaches the wrong ear.
Serious Trouble (3 SB)
Reinforcements: Additional horsemen, kin-claim hunters, or Dust Market thugs arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A horse goes lame, seal ring cracks, bound-mark burns.
Major Twist: The situation changes — Khatun dies, well runs dry, duel interrupted by grass fire.
Rail Tick: Advance a relevant campaign/front timer by 1 segment.
Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1/Harm 1/Condition (e.g., Blinded by dust, Parched).
Major Turns (4+ SB)
Trap Springs: A hidden pit, poisoned water share, or false oath activates.
Authority Arrival: Khatun’s warband, Ecktorian patrol, Sky-Speaker, or the Shedder intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes — grass fire sweeps through, dust storm blinds, night falls without warning.
Patron Omen: A bolide, strange animal, or wind that speaks your name appears.
Narrative Pivot: The story takes an unexpected turn — the real falsifier was your ally; the water right was a trap.
Region-Specific SB Options
Midh Ahkaz (Grass & Trade): Grass catches fire, horses spook at shadows, bargains settled with a knife on the table, violet seed-heads floating in the wind.
Midh Ahkaz (Oath & Sky): Clouds spell forgotten names, wind carries false testimony, a duel’s outcome shifts with the sun, a violet dusk signals a spirit.
Midh Ahkaz (Horse & Bow): An arrow splits in flight, a horse refuses a rider, a bowstring sings a dying clansman’s tune, a braid comes undone at the wrong moment.
Midh Ahkaz (Serpent Cult): A shed snakeskin is found in your tent; a cup of warm milk appears on your saddle; a whisper from the dark says, “The Shedder invites you to dine.”
Pursuit Ladder (Near / Mid / Far)
Advance/Withdraw (Wits + Ride): On a hit, shift one band. On a strong hit, also impose Dust Cloud.
Cut the Herd (Presence + Sway): On a hit, freeze range for one exchange; if a Grass Right is in your possession, +1 die.
Weather the Stampede (Endurance + Survival): On a hit in Horse Sickness, you pick which mount survives; on a miss, the GM does.
Boss Seeds (three-phase foes)
The Hollow Scale (cursed scale bound to the Oasis) — Phases: Fair Measure → Thirst Unearned → Naming the Bound. Cracks: burn a false token in the Oasis well; satisfy a seven-clan water claim; let a Sky-Speaker rebless the scale.
Grass Reaver (vengeful horse-lord, half-legend) — Phases: Hoof Drum → Ghost Herd → Blood-Claim Ride. Cracks: confess a broken oath at his cairn; return a stolen foal; outrun him on a borrowed horse.
The Hollow Merchant (greedy soul who sold his reflection) — Phases: Roll of the Lost → Chain of Measures → Break the Seal. Cracks: settle a forgotten claim; break his bond before witnesses; let the Iron Well drink his name.
The Shedder (Serpent Cult Ascendant) — Phases: Invitation → The Cup → Transformation. Cracks: refuse the cup three times; show her a scale from the First Shedder; cut her braid — she will shed her skin and flee, but she will remember your face.
Quick use notes
Draw until you have all four suits. Highest rank sets main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10). Diamonds are narrative permits (grazing rights, oaths, witnesses) that shift Position. If any A appears, echo grass and wind motifs — shifting alliances, old claims that ride with the seasons, the sky as witness, a body that vanishes into the tall grass by morning. The violet seed-heads of the steppe are a recurring omen: when they glow under moonlight, a spirit walks; when they shed, a caravan will be late — or never arrive. If a Serpent (S) entry appears, introduce a cult encounter, an omen of shedding, or a venomous complication.
In Midh Ahkaz, power flows through horseflesh, water rights, and the geometry of oaths. The Khatun rules by consensus, but the true authority rests with the Oasis Compact — a loose council of clan elders, Vilikari factors, and Steppe Rangers who interpret the Wind Law. When the Compact fails, the Grass Ring becomes the courtroom, and the duel is the verdict.
But a new power coils beneath the old: the Serpent Cult of Isoka. They offer a different kind of power — transformation through poison, renewal through death. The weak are shed like skin; the strong rise reborn. The cult does not seek to rule Midh Ahkaz. It seeks to own the people who will rule after the old ways die.
For the GM — Actionable Examples:
A player who wins a Kon’reh match earns a Grass Right (Diamond). That right could be contested by a rival clan the very next session — forcing a rematch or a chase across the prairie. The grass will be cut for the rematch. The loser’s grass will be salted.
A Water Share token is stolen. The thief leaves a violet seed-head as a signature — and a single snake scale. Tracking them leads to a seasonal camp where the Serpent Cult is holding a secret Rite of the Cup. The party must decide whether to interfere — or to drink.
The Khatun’s illness (Club) is not natural. A Vilikari factor (Heart) knows the poisoner’s name but demands a Burned Mark (J♢ Diamond) in exchange — a dangerous witness the player must then protect. The witness is a child who cannot speak. She draws in the dust. Her drawings keep showing a serpent eating its tail.
These hooks turn the generator entries into immediate playable situations.
Sword & Sorcery — The Serpent’s Favor and the Steppe’s Code
Serpent’s Favor (GM Eyes Only)
Isoka’s attention is a subtle currency. Track it secretly for each PC.
Gain Serpent’s Favor: Accept a boon from the cult, drink the Cup of Renewal, or roll a natural 1 on a Spirit roll in the cult’s presence. The GM may also award it when a PC shows weakness the cult can exploit.
Effects (the PC thinks they’re becoming legendary):
0–3: Nothing yet. A strange luck, a coincidental escape.
4–7: +1 die once per scene from “instinct” (the serpent’s nudge).
8–12: +1 die to all rolls involving “serpent intuition” (notice, poison, deceit).
13+: +2 dice, but civilized folk give you strange looks. Your shadow sometimes moves a half-step behind you.
Corruption Score (visible to the player): Track separately. At 6+, gain Serpent’s Senses (+1 die to Notice in the dark). At 11+, gain Scaled Skin (+1 Armor). At 16+, gain Cosmic Insight (ask one question about cosmic threats per session) — but you also hiss when you speak.
The Price: When the GM spends 3+ SB, Isoka may call in a favor. Refusal costs 1 Corruption.
The Steppe’s Code (Visible Timer)
The opposite of the serpent’s whisper: the hard law of the open grass.
Track the Code [0–6]: Advances when a PC keeps a blood-oath, pays a wergild, shows hospitality, or defies the cult openly. At 3, gain +1 Position on all parley with Ykrul and Vilikari. At 6, the sky itself will bear witness to one oath you swear — breaking it invokes Kuva’s Vengeance.
Erosion: The Code erodes when you break an oath, refuse a blood-price, or accept a gift from the Shedder. At 0, you are “grassless” — no clan will shelter you. The wind no longer carries your name.
Sword & Sorcery Cult Encounters
Roll d6 when the Shedder’s influence manifests:
A cup of warm milk appears on your saddle. There is a scale floating in it.
A child you helped now has snake-scale tattoos on her arms. She smiles with too many teeth.
The Dust Market auctioneer offers you a “gift” — a silver coin that is warm to the touch. Isoka wants a name.
Your horse refuses to cross a patch of violet grass. Beneath the soil, something sheds its skin.
The Iron Well Keeper writes a name in ash. The ash floats toward you. It is not your name. It is the name of someone you love.
A whisper in the dark says, “The Shedder invites you to dine. Bring a story worth remembering.”
Blood and Steel — Quick Duels
When a dispute is settled in the Grass Ring, use this fast procedure:
Each duelist chooses a stance: Guard (defense, +1 armor this exchange), Lunge (attack, +1 die, but -1 armor), Feint (trick, test Wits vs. opponent’s Wits to gain +2 dice next exchange).
Roll Body + Melee (or relevant skill). The winner claims the round.
Three rounds: best of three wins the dispute. The crowd bets, the grass drinks the blood, and the dead remember who fought true.
Serpent’s Coil Set-Piece Generator (For when the cult is central)
When the party enters the Serpent Pit or a cult stronghold, roll 1d6 for the chamber’s nature:
The Shedding Floor: A pit of writhing serpents. Crossing requires a Body + Athletics test (DV 4). On a failure, the serpents bite (Harm 1, and mark a Serpent’s Favor tick). On a success, you find a shed skin that can be used as a Cult Token (Diamond).
The Altar of Names: A stone slab covered in carved names. A character who touches it must test Spirit + Endurance (DV 4) or have a name (a memory, a bond, a secret) pulled from them and carved into the stone. The GM gains a String on that character.
The Whispering Gallery: The walls speak in the voices of those who drank the Cup and failed. They offer warnings — but each warning costs a story. The GM may offer a clue about the Shedder’s weakness in exchange for a memory.
The Hatching Chamber: Dozens of eggs pulse in the warmth of a central brazier. The cult is breeding a new generation of serpents. A successful Craft or Lore test (DV 4) can sabotage the brazier, destroying the eggs and gaining 2 Serpent’s Favor (but also gaining 2 Corruption as Isoka’s anger burns through you).
The Vault of Skins: Shelves of shed skins, each labelled with a name. Some are decades old, some are fresh. Reading a name grants a clue about the person who wore that skin — but the skin will remember your touch. Mark 1 Serpent’s Favor.
The First Shedder’s Chamber: A sealed cave beneath the cult temple. The air is hot, and the walls pulse with a heartbeat that is not your own. The First Shedder sleeps here. If you enter, test Spirit + Endurance (DV 5) or gain 2 Corruption. If you survive, you may take one Scale of the First Shedder (Diamond, can be used to rebless the Oasis Compact or to bargain with Isoka herself).
The Ways Between
Spiritways & Veilways.
You are reading this sentence twice. The first time, you understood it. The second time, it understood you.
I am a Lost Pilgrim. Or I was. Or I will be. The paths here don’t care about tenses. They care about which version of you arrives at the end. I’ve been walking for—no. That’s a lie. The walking has been walking me. I forget which of us started first.
The Ways Between do not measure miles. They measure choices. A wrong turn might lead to yesterday. A right turn might lead to a version of yourself who made a different decision and is still alive to regret it. The mist does not hide landmarks. It hides destinations. And sometimes, when you walk long enough, you realize the destination was never the point. The point was the moment you turned left instead of right. The point was the breath you held at the crossroads. The point was the name you did not speak.
Here is the secret the Wayfinder doesn’t want you to know: there is no Wayfinder. There is only the road, and the road is a liar. It tells you it wants you to find your way. What it actually wants is to watch you choose. Every reflection in every pool is a version of you that chose differently. They are all still walking. They are all still watching. And they are all still waiting for you to make the choice that finally lets them stop.
I met myself on a bridge once. They were coming from the opposite direction. We stopped. We looked at each other. We said nothing. We both knew that if one of us spoke, the other would have to listen. And listening is a kind of debt.
Never answer a question asked by a reflection. The answer will bind you to the path you did not choose. But here is the second secret: not answering is also a choice. And the road is very, very patient.
— The Wayfinder, who exists only in the moment a choice is made, and who is not the same person at the end of this sentence as at the beginning
What do people eat for breakfast? Nothing. There is no breakfast in the Ways Between. There is no morning. There is no hunger. There is only the walking. The walking is sustenance.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To forget. Children born in the Ways Between do not learn. They remember. They remember the path they took to be born. The path has eight turns. The ninth turn is the birth. The birth is a choice. The child does not know they chose.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their direction. A stranger walking toward you may be coming from your future. A stranger walking away may be going to your past. A stranger walking beside you may be yourself from a timeline where you did not turn left. Do not ask them which. They will not answer.
What is the most common crime? Stealing—but stealing is not a crime, it is a paradox. A thief in the Ways Between steals a memory from a version of you that no longer exists. The memory never belonged to you. You cannot miss it. You will miss it anyway.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The Ways Between are not between anything. They are the only thing that exists. The solid ground you remember—the cities, the roads, the hearths—is the dream. The Ways Between are the waking. The waking is the walking. The walking never ends.
Where do people go when they die? Deeper. The Ways Between have no surface, no bottom, no end. The dead walk deeper. The deeper they walk, the less they remember. When they remember nothing, they become the path. The path is the walking. The walking is the dead.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You cannot. Apologies require memory. Memory requires a self. The Ways Between erase both. The only apology is to stop walking. Stopping is not an option.
What is the most important festival? There are no festivals. There is only the moment between heartbeats when you realize you have been walking for nine years and you do not remember why. That moment is the festival. Celebrate it by taking the next step.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The Wayfinder is not a person. It is the road itself, dreaming of a traveler who will finally reach the end. The end does not exist. The road knows this. The road dreams anyway.
The Ways Between — Obishaal, the Realm of Dreams and Death
Quick Reference
Tagline: Every dream is a door. Every door is a judgment. The dead dream forever; the living borrow their sleep.
The Wayfinder (Elite): “I exist only in the moment of choice, the breath between one path and another. Obishaal is not a place—it is a state. To guide here is to understand that every dream leads somewhere, but only the virtuous know which somewhere is worth the waking.”
Lost Pilgrim (Commoner): “The dead don’t leave. They just change addresses. Obishaal is their new neighborhood, and the scales are balanced with virtue. If you’re lucky, you’ll only visit. If you’re not…you’ll find yourself climbing stairs that never end, and every landing offers a bargain you can’t refuse.”
Genre / Mood: Dream-death metaphysical, virtue-based ascent, temptation and fall, folk-surrealism.
Starting Location: A crossroad shrine of black glass stones, where travelers meet their reflections coming the other way. The shrine is silent except for the soft hum of the stones. A Backwards Pilgrim stands at the crossroads, facing the direction you came from. “The Thirteenth Stone speaks,” they say. “But the path chooses who arrives. What did you bury on the road here? The stones can smell it. And in Obishaal, every buried thing dreams of waking.”
The Ways Between is a transit way, the eternal crossroads through Obishaal, the element of Dreams and Death, the eighth element after Fire, Life, Air, Fortune, Earth, Fate, Water, Dreams/Death. It is the realm where the settled dead go not to oblivion but to an ideal afterlife—a dream that reflects the life they lived. A farmer dreams of endless harvest; a warrior dreams of eternal battle; a merchant dreams of scales that never tip. These dreams are real, and they are paradise or prisons.
The living may enter the Ways through thresholds of sleep, near-death, or deliberate ritual. Once inside, they find a landscape that shifts with their own psyche—but also with the weight of their choices. To ascend through the layers of Obishaal, a traveler must demonstrate virtue: honesty, courage, mercy, self-sacrifice. To fall is to yield to vice: greed, cowardice, cruelty, despair. Each layer is a test, and each test is a dream that tempts you to fail.
At the very bottom, pressed into the silt of the deepest dream, lies Ikasha, She Who Sleeps. Her sisters Inaea and Isoka imprisoned her there eons ago, for Ikasha dreamed of summoning and confronting the Clockwork Monad—a confrontation that, in their judgment, would unmake reality. Now Ikasha dreams fitfully, and her nightmares seep upward, infecting the layers above. Sometimes a traveler who falls far enough can hear her voice, offering escape in exchange for service—a service that would free her.
Between the layers drift the dead who have not yet found their final dream. They are the Unsettled, and they will trade memories, secrets, and virtues for a chance to ascend—or to pull you down with them.
What you notice first: The air tastes of copper and old keys. Your footsteps echo half a beat too late. The waystones are warm—and they pulse like hearts.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never answer a question asked by a reflection. The answer will bind you to the path you did not choose.
Regional Mood: The Dream That Remembers
Here, the dream is not a thing—it is a witness. It remembers every promise made at a deathbed, every lie told to a dying ear, every virtue you failed to keep. Obishaal does not forgive, but it does not forget either. It offers passage in exchange for truth. The longer you stay, the more the dream learns about you. By the time you reach your destination, you may find that the destination knows you better than you know yourself. Some travelers never leave. They become dream-echoes, their faces pressed into the glass of a forgotten dream, their names still warm on the lips of the next pilgrim.
On any path in the Ways Between, the ninth step you take in a straight line will land on a threshold you did not see. The wise take eight steps, then pause to look around. In Obishaal, the ninth step is always a dream of falling. Those who fall hear a voice ask, “What did you owe?” Answering costs a memory; silence costs a name.
Thin Places — Where the Veil Wears Thin
Not every threshold is a door. Some are a crack—a place where the world forgot to finish its seam. The Pereshi call them breath-holes, where the mountain’s exhalation smells of yesterday. The Tulkani knot a thread and leave it untied, marking where the Hollow’s attention wanders. The Aeler do not name them at all. They simply count to eight and leave the ninth breath unspoken.
A thin place is a location where the boundary between the waking world and the Ways Between is unusually permeable. Crossing is not a matter of ritual or intent—it is a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong angle. A wrong step. A miscounted breath. A name spoken at the wrong hour.
When Does a Thin Place Open?
The GM may declare a thin place when:
A character rolls a critical failure (all 1s) on a navigation or survival test in a liminal region (Valewood, Mistlands, high passes, deep mines, ancient ruins).
The party camps at a crossroads, bridge, or ford during a new moon, an eclipse, or the ninth hour.
A character breaks a taboo (pours the ninth cup, takes the ninth step, speaks the ninth name) in a region where the Hollow is strong.
The GM spends 3+ Story Beats to introduce a supernatural complication, and the fiction supports a threshold crossing.
A player willingly seeks a thin place (rare—most who seek them never return unchanged).
Signs of a Thin Place (d6)
Roll or choose when the party enters an area that might be thin:
Echoes answer wrong. Your voice returns half a heartbeat later, or in a different pitch. Sometimes the echo speaks words you did not say.
Shadows drift. Your shadow moves when you stand still. Cast by a light source that isn’t there.
The ninth step appears. A stair, a bridge plank, a stone—where no ninth should exist. Step on it, and the ground shifts.
Bells ring without clappers. A distant chime, a temple bell, a levee alarm. The sound comes from a direction you cannot find.
The air tastes of copper and old keys. The same taste Saikou Ira describes before every exorcism. The same taste the Aeler name breath of the deep.
A door stands where no door stood. Gray wood, warm handle, no frame. It does not open for those who knock. It opens for those who do not.
Accidental Crossing (Mechanics)
When a character is in a thin place and the conditions align, the GM may call for a Spirit + Endurance test (DV 4–6, depending on the thinness). On a failure, the character crosses into the Ways Between—not by choice, but by accident.
Partial success (0 < successes < DV): The character feels the pull. They may choose to step back (mark 1 Fatigue) or let themselves cross (gain 1 Boon, but enter the Ways).
Miss (0 successes): The character crosses involuntarily. They arrive in a random location in the Ways Between (roll on the table in §).
Critical failure (all 1s): The character crosses—and something crosses with them. A Oath-Keeper, a Counting Wraith, or worse.
Once crossed, the character must navigate the Ways Between using the standard travel procedures (Chapter 46). They cannot simply “turn back”—the threshold that opened may close behind them. Finding the way home requires a balance: a story, a memory, or a name offered to the road.
Known Thin Places (By Spades Draw)
The following locations are known thin places, keyed to the Spades (place) draws of various regional generators. A GM who draws one of these cards while the party is in that region may declare the area thin, triggering the possibility of an accidental crossing.
| Region | Spades Entry (Place) | Thin Place Hazard / Hook |
|---|---|---|
| Region | Spades Entry (Place) | Thin Place Hazard / Hook |
| Aeler | ♠10 (Reliquary Arcade) | The Bell-Crypts. Bells ring without clappers. A ninth tone pulls listeners into a dream-echo of the mountain’s first collapse. |
| Mistlands | ♠Q (Witchlight Bridge) | The Ninth Plank. Step where the plank is missing, and you step into the fog of Obishaal. The Hollow Bride sometimes waits on the far side. |
| Ykrul | ♠A (Sky Steppe) | The Star-Road Scar. Where the grass grows in spirals. Crossing at dusk may lead to the Long Mile of Temptation. |
| Vilikari | ♠A (Foedus Stone) | The Crack of the Ninth Clause. Touch the stone’s newest crack, and you may hear the Oath-Keeper’s question before you answer. |
| Linn | ♠K (High Jarl’s Seat) | The Beacon That Remembers. When the beacon burns green, the dead can see you. When it burns blue, they can touch you. |
| Thepyrgos | ♠A (The Unfinished Stair) | The Ninth Flight. Climb where no stair should be, and you climb through the fossil stairs of Obishaal. |
| Acasia | ♠A (The Pale Causeway) | The Causeway of Broken Promises. Every milestone is a broken oath. Walk it at dusk, and the Walking Scale may find you. |
| Vhasia | ♠K (Sun Palace, Lence) | The Hall of Shattered Mirrors. Mirrors show not your face, but a reflection of the path you refused. Step through, and you enter the Crossroads of the Ninth Choice. |
| Viterra | ♠A (Highway Stone) | The Queen’s Milestone. The stone is cracked. The crack is a door. Those who peer inside see the Bone Corridor of Unfinished Business. |
| Valewood | ♠A (Valeheart Spire) | The Spire’s Shadow. When the spire phases, its shadow becomes a stair. Climb it, and you enter the Stone Circle of Forgotten Villages. |
| Aelinnel | ♠A (The Green Gate) | The Gate That Expects Change. If you cannot pay the toll in truths, the gate may open to the Memory Tunnel of the Dying instead of the forest. |
| Aelaerem | ♠A (Hollow Field) | The Field of Uncounted Steps. Step nine times in a straight line, and the Hollow Field becomes the Mist-Ford of First Doubt. |
| Zakov | ♠A (Serpent’s Spine) | The Reef That Sings. The harmonic hum is the song of the Deep Drake. Follow it, and you may find the Pressure’s lair—or the Thirteenth Stone. |
| Tulkani | ♠A (Ikasha’s Dreaming Place) | The Dreamer’s Threshold. A cave that smells of honey and rust. Entering it is already a crossing. The Wayfinder waits inside. |
| Fhara | ♠A (The First Well) | The Well of Forgotten Names. Drink from it, and you may wake in the Waystation of the Virtuous, your name already spent. |
| Sidhi | ♠A (The Sealed Coast) | The Coast of Unmarked Graves. The drowned walk here. If you answer a drowned sailor’s question, you follow them into the Promise Bridge of the Unsettled. |
| Pereshi | ♠A (The First Keystone) | The Stone That Asks. Touch it, and the mountain asks a question. Answer poorly, and you climb the Fossil Stairs of Ascension. |
| Kuvani | ♠K (Khagan’s Felt Throne) | The Throne of Tails. The saddle has no stirrups. Sit in it, and the Long Mile of Temptation begins beneath you. |
| Ashaan | ♠A (Ikasha’s Sleeping Chamber) | The Sealed Door. The stone is warm. The lock is a whisper. Those who listen too long cross into the deepest layer—and may never wake. |
| Ngomebe | ♠A (The First City) | The City That Never Stopped. A walking city seen only on the horizon. Step onto its shadow, and you step into the Spiral Path of Recursion. |
| Taharka | ♠A (The King’s Tomb) | The Tomb of the Unnamed. The keystone is a door. The door leads to the Threshold Arch of Virtue. The arch judges. |
| Sekogo | ♠A (The Ukwe’s Root-Chamber) | The Root That Whispers. Sit on the throne of roots, and the tree asks one question. If you cannot answer, you fall into the Bone Corridor. |
| Lethai-ar (Crimson Valley) | ♠A (The First Bridge) | The Invisible Strand. Only those who have witnessed nine true oaths can see it. Cross it, and you walk the Promise Bridge of the Unsettled. |
| Theona | ♠A (Lookout Cliff) | The Cliff of Nine Views. From here you can see the Green Host riding—and sometimes the Fossil Stairs rising beside them. |
| Oshiira | ♠A (The Ledger Vault) | The Vault of Unpaid Scales. The records are warm. Read the ninth page, and the Thirteenth Stone speaks to you. |
| Black River (Thepyrgos–Viterra border) | (Special) | The Ferryman’s Slip. The river is a threshold. Bryn’s boat is not the only one. On moonless nights, the dead row themselves. A coin in the water may buy a crossing—or sell your name. |
Denizens of the Ways Between (Expanded)
The following creatures may appear in the Ways Between, drawn from the bestiaries and expansions. They are not random encounters—they are judges. Each has a hunger, a weakness, and a price.
| Creature | Source | Hunger | Price to Banish |
|---|---|---|---|
| Creature | Source | Hunger | Price to Banish |
| Counting Wraith | Witnessed Prey | Errors (ninth step, ninth breath) | A correct count of eight |
| Oath-Keeper | Witnessed Prey | Unpaid scales | Payment of the original weight |
| Trow | Witnessed Prey | Absences, omissions | A memory freely given |
| Neighbor | Witnessed Prey | Broken taboos, attention | A never-told truth (or silence) |
| Poltergeist (Class IV) | Saikou Ira’s Compendium | Rage, unfinished business | A witnessed apology |
| Deep Drake (Pressure) | Witnessed Prey / Saikou Ira | Attention, the ninth breath | A memory of sunlight (or a copper bell) |
| Scale Lich | Witnessed Prey (appendix) | Unbalanced judgments | A true name carved in quartz |
| The Hollow Bride | The Hearth Balance | Hospitality broken, the ninth cup | An apology witnessed |
| The Walking Scale | The Salt Balance | Broken promises | A story never told |
| The Keeper of the Seventh Exhalation | The Wandering Balance | The seventh sneeze | A name offered freely |
Accidental Crossing Destination (d6)
When a character crosses into the Ways Between accidentally, roll to determine where they emerge:
The Mist-Ford of First Doubt (Class III Procession site). Water runs uphill. Footsteps echo backwards. The dead march here at midnight.
The Bone Corridor of Unfinished Business (Anchor graveyard). Shadows walk the walls but never touch the floor. A Poltergeist may be forming.
The Crossroads of the Ninth Choice (Threshold nexus). All four paths lead to the same destination—but different yesterdays. A Trow sits at the center, smoking.
The Promise Bridge of the Unsettled (Oath-Keeper territory). Cross with a vow, and the bridge remembers. The toll is a story you have never told.
The Long Mile of Temptation (Vice’s testing ground). The road stretches differently for each traveler. A Walking Scale appears at the halfway mark.
The Thirteenth Stone (Ikasha’s Seal). The path ends at a warm stone. The stone whispers. Beneath it, She Who Sleeps dreams of freedom. A Deep Drake may be coiled nearby.
Thin places are not traps. They are complications. A party that accidentally crosses into the Ways Between should not feel that they have “failed.” They have simply entered a different kind of scene—one where negotiation matters more than steel.
Offer a way out. The Ways Between always offer a path home. The path may demand a toll (a memory, a story, a name), but it exists.
Use the travel rules. Treat the Ways Between as a leg of a journey. Draw cards. Set timers. The destination is “home” or “the next threshold.”
Let players use their bonds. A character who calls on a bond while lost in the Ways may hear a familiar voice—or see a familiar face—guiding them. The road remembers who weighs what.
The ninth is always watching. In any scene set in the Ways Between, the ninth card drawn (or the ninth roll made) triggers a manifestation of the Hollow. Not a fight—a question. The players must answer truthfully, or the road takes a memory.
Set down by the Gray Wanderer, after a night spent in a thin place near the Black River. The fire went out three times. The shadows did not. The ninth bell rang once—and then was silent.
The Ways Between are not a dungeon. They are a conversation. Speak carefully. The road listens.
Spades — Places (Dream Layers)
Mist-Ford of First Doubt — Water runs uphill; footsteps echo backwards through time. ‘[THRESHOLD]‘ The ford shows you wading through your own past. Do not look down at the water.
Bone Corridor of Unfinished Business — Shadows walk the walls but never touch the floor; light as memory. ‘[DEATH]‘ The bones are from those who chose vice and fell. They shift when you blink.
Threshold Arch of Virtue — Shows a reflection as someone you might have been; the past as a mirror. ‘[TRUTH]‘ The reflection has a scar you never got. It asks how you avoided it.
Spiral Path of Recursion — Ascends but returns to the same stone marker; the journey as meditation. ‘[MAGIC]‘ Each loop, the stone moves closer to the center. Or you do.
Promise Bridge of the Unsettled — Cross with a vow and it remembers your weight; an oath as a toll. ‘[OATH]‘ The bridge’s planks are old letters. Read one, and you may owe the writer.
Crossroads of the Ninth Choice — All four paths lead to the same destination, but different tomorrows. ‘[THRESHOLD]‘ The center stone is warm. A coin placed there will vanish—or be accepted.
Stone Circle of Forgotten Villages — Marks where a village used to be; the houses are now constellations. ‘[DEATH]‘ The stars are too close. You can touch them. They crumble like ash.
Memory Tunnel of the Dying — Hear the thoughts of those who passed here; the past as an echo. ‘[MEMORY]‘ The thoughts are in a language you almost understand. One word is your name.
Fossil Stairs of Ascension — Each step is an eye that watches your ascent; the climb as scrutiny. ‘[FEAR]‘ The eyes belong to those who fell here. They blink in sequence.
Waystation of the Virtuous — The keeper trades in unfinished conversations; words as currency. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The keeper has no face. It wears the faces of those who paused too long.
Junction of Vice and Virtue — Paths physically collide; you must choose which reality to follow. ‘[THRESHOLD]‘ The collision sounds like breaking glass. The glass reforms into a door.
Long Mile of Temptation — The road stretches differently for each traveler; distance as perception. ‘[MAGIC]‘ You are the only one walking. The others are already at the end.
The Thirteenth Stone — Ikasha’s Seal — Where the path reveals its true destination; truth as revelation. ‘[TRUTH]‘ The stone whispers. The whisper is a promise you made to yourself and broke. Beneath it, the stone is warm—and dreaming.
(Wayfarer/Spirit/Dream-walker)
Lost pilgrim who thinks they’re going home but forgot where; toll-taker accepting payment in forgotten memories.
Hearts — Travelers & Guides
Lost Pilgrim — Thinks they’re going home but forgot where; destination as a memory. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ Their pack is full of stones. Each stone is a forgotten promise.
Toll-Taker (Virtue Assessor) — Accepts payment in virtues you didn’t know you had. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ Their scales weigh truth and echo. A balanced scale means you pass—for now.
Wayward Guide — Directions technically correct, morally questionable. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ They point with a broken compass. The needle spins, but the path is true.
Dream-Merchant — Carries a sack of nightmares and one perfect dream for sale. ‘[MAGIC]‘ The perfect dream is their own. They are selling it because they cannot wake up.
Child-Ghost of Unfinished Life — Knows shortcuts but charges in riddles; wisdom as a puzzle. ‘[DEATH]‘ The riddles have no answer—only a choice. Choose wrong, and you become a child.
Wounded Walker (Vice-Bound) — Bleeding metaphor; their pain grows thorns along the path. ‘[FEAR]‘ The thorns have faces. Each face is someone they failed to save.
Map-Merchant of Impossible Dreams — Selling maps to places that don’t exist yet; the future as a commodity. ‘[TRUTH]‘ The maps change as you watch. The destination is always one page ahead.
Guide-Dog (Ancestral Spirit) — Made of shadow and starlight; follows those who walk with purpose. ‘[SPIRIT]‘ It never barks. It whines when you are about to make a mistake.
Backwards Pilgrim (Dream-Echo) — Moving through time; their steps erase what just happened. ‘[MEMORY]‘ They are walking toward their birth. Every step, they forget something.
Soul-Ferryman — Carries the luggage of the living; a burden as a service. ‘[DEATH]‘ The luggage is full of things you never said. The ferryman knows them all.
Road’s Child (Dream-Kin) — Born where paths crossed, raised by waymarks; navigation as instinct. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ They have no navel. They were never born—they simply began.
Dead-Road Keeper — Ensures proper passage for those who should not walk. ‘[DEATH]‘ Their lantern burns a cold blue. The flame does not flicker.
The Wayfinder (Dream Avatar) — Exists only in the moment a choice is made; a decision as an entity. ‘[LEGEND]‘ They are every guide you ever needed. They are also every road you refused.
(Veil-Thin/Dream-Bleed/Wayward)
Path loops back to show your funeral preparations; reality thins—you see the dreams of sleeping travelers; Ikasha’s nightmare bleeds into the upper layers.
Clubs — Complications/Threats
Funeral Loop — The path shows your funeral preparations; death as a destination. ‘[DEATH]‘ ‘[FEAR]‘ The mourners are people you have not met yet. They seem to know you well.
Reality Thins (Ikasha’s Dream Bleed) — You see the dreams of sleeping travelers; the boundary as a veil. ‘[MAGIC]‘ A dreamer mutters your name. They are dreaming of a choice you will make tomorrow.
Waymark Lies (Vice’s Test) — Points the wrong way; trust leads to places that never were. ‘[TRUTH]‘ The waymark has a crack. Through the crack, you see a path you should have taken.
Dream-Bleed — Waking memories become someone else’s nightmares. ‘[MEMORY]‘ ‘[FEAR]‘ You remember a childhood fear that was not yours. It still terrifies you.
Toll Demanded (Virtue Payment) — Currency you did not know you carried; payment as a revelation. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The toll is a secret you told a dead person. They are now standing behind you.
Path Split (Virtue vs. Vice) — Each version of you remembers differently; identity as a choice. ‘[MAGIC]‘ One you is smiling. One you is weeping. One you is already walking away.
Gravity Shifts (Guilt’s Weight) — Emotional weight grows physically heavy; a burden as physics. ‘[WEATHER]‘ Your pack feels heavier. Inside is a regret you forgot you carried.
Time-Sickness (Dream Chronology) — You arrive before you left; paradox shadows follow. ‘[MAGIC]‘ Your past self waves at you. Do not wave back.
Truth Payment (Ikasha’s Price) — The road remembers your lies and demands truth as payment. ‘[TRUTH]‘ ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The lie is carved on a stone. The stone is warm. It knows your temperature.
Crossroads Judgment (Virtue Audit) — The path you chose judges the ones you did not; decision as karma. ‘[TRUTH]‘ ‘[SOCIAL]‘ A ghost of the road not taken asks why. You have one sentence to answer.
Memory-Thief (Unsettled Dead) — A rest stop keeper pays in counterfeit recollections. ‘[MEMORY]‘ ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The memory is almost right. The color of the sky is wrong.
Forbidden Path (Ikasha’s Descent) — Opens only for those already lost; loss as a key. ‘[DEATH]‘ The path smells of old tears. You taste salt on your lips.
Convergence (Ikasha’s Waking) — All travelers arrive together, none recall how; arrival as a mystery. ‘[MAGIC]‘ ‘[LEGEND]‘ You recognize everyone. You have never seen any of them before. The air tastes of honey and rust. Ikasha is dreaming of you.
(True Name/Safe Passage/Waywisdom)
Waymark that always points toward your next important choice; a token of passage that the road recognizes as belonging.
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage
Choice Compass (Virtue’s Needle) — Always points toward your next important choice. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The needle is a splinter of the Thirteenth Stone. It hums when you are near a decision.
Passage Token (Dream-Marked) — The road recognizes you as one who belongs. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The token is a braid of your own hair. You do not remember cutting it.
Dream-Catcher — Filters nightmares from your rest; sleep as a sanctuary. ‘[MAGIC]‘ The catcher is woven from old promises. It smells of lavender and regret.
Truth-Compass (Ikasha’s Fragment) — Points to what you most need to know, not what you want. ‘[TRUTH]‘ The compass has no needle. The housing spins until you speak a truth.
Memory-Anchor — Keeps you from losing yourself on deeper paths. ‘[MEMORY]‘ The anchor is a river stone. Your name is carved on it in a language you have never seen.
Safe Haven (Virtue’s Rest) — A guaranteed rest stop without complication. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The haven is a dry arch. The arch is a doorframe with no door.
Guide-Light (Virtue’s Beacon) — Burns the color of your truest intention; purpose as a beacon. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ The light is blue. Blue means you are honest. Red means you are not.
Path-Cutter (Dream Shears) — Cuts distance through metaphor, not space. ‘[MAGIC]‘ The cutter is a pair of shears. Cut a memory, and the road between here and there vanishes.
Scale-Clearing (Virtue’s Mercy) — The road forgives one weight you thought you carried. ‘[WEIGHT]‘ The weight was owed to a dead person. They are no longer dead on this path.
Crossroads Boon — Choose among three paths, each exactly where you need to be. ‘[LEGEND]‘ The paths are labeled: Regret, Forgive, Forget. Choose carefully.
Way-Wisdom (Dream-Logic) — Understand the language of paths and signs for one journey. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The waystones whisper. They are complaining about the last traveler. It was you.
Grace Passage (Virtue’s Shield) — Walk safely through any dangerous crossing for one night. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ The grace is a bell. Ring it, and the road will pretend not to see you.
Road’s Name (Ikasha’s True Name) — Call the path by its true name and command its nature. ‘[LEGEND]‘ The name is a single syllable. Speaking it will change the road—and you.
Quick use notes
Draw until you have all four suits: Spade = place, Heart = actor, Club = pressure, Diamond = leverage. Highest rank sets the main Timer (2–5 → 4, 6–10 → 6, J/Q/K → 8, A → 10).
Diamonds are codified outcomes (true names/safe passages/waywisdom) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, echo dream-road motifs—reflections that lie, paths that judge, destinations that choose the traveler. Also, the presence of an Ace hints that Ikasha’s dream is particularly close.
Additional Features
Dream-Logic Navigation: Any Ace introduces a metaphysical requirement (a sacrifice, a taboo, an exchange) that must be satisfied to pass. Name it at the table; the road will enforce it.
Reflection Points: Face cards (J, Q, K) show alternate selves or unlived choices. Treat them as temporary NPCs or scene tags that can help, hinder, or tempt.
Memory Currency: Diamonds may be traded for knowledge or safe passage as if they were memories. Describe the memory paid; the path (or its keeper) pays in kind.
Virtue and Vice Timers: Each character in Obishaal tracks a small personal Virtue [3] and Vice [3] timer. Virtue advances when they act with honesty, courage, mercy, or self-sacrifice. Vice advances when they act with greed, cowardice, cruelty, or despair. When one timer fills, the character ascends (Virtue) to a higher layer of Obishaal or falls (Vice) to a lower one. Ascension offers a boon; falling offers a temptation (a cursed gift from the layer’s vice-spirit). The timers reset after each layer transition. Reaching the bottom (Vice filled in the deepest layer) allows Ikasha to speak directly to the character.
Ikasha’s Whisper (Patron Intervention): When a character falls to the lowest layer (or deliberately seeks her out), they may hear Ikasha’s voice. She offers a Fragment of Freedom: + 2 dice to any roll involving escape, secrecy, or breaking bonds, but each use marks 1 Obligation to Ikasha and advances a Waking Dream [6] timer. When that timer fills, Ikasha uses the character as a vessel to attempt an escape—a campaign-level event.
Local Patrons (Syncretic Names):
The Unnamed Guide — The Traveler. The road that appears only when you are lost.
The Mirror Listener — The Witness. The reflection that tells you what you need to hear, never what you want.
The Threshold Child — The Sealed Gate. The one who was never born, who guards the places where paths end.
The Echo King — The Ninth. The voice that answers when you speak to the empty road.
The Dreamer Below — Ikasha (imprisoned). She who sleeps and dreams of waking. Her whispers are bargains; her freedom is a promise.
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord know the Ways Between as the Cord’s shadow. A lost Hollowed wanders here, its thread trailing into the mist. Follow it, and you may find a Sister who cut herself free—and who now tends Ikasha’s dream.
The Threshold Compendium: Saikou Ira’s silver mirror shows the Ways Between as a tangled knot of unfulfilled balances. He has walked three paths here. He will not speak of the fourth, where he glimpsed Ikasha’s face.
Malachai, the Chained Angel: A silver coin that never spends lies at every crossroads. Pick it up, and the road will offer you a shortcut—but the coin will reappear in your pocket at the next junction, heavier. In Obishaal, the coin is warm and pulses like a heartbeat.
The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Psions call the Ways Between “the Stair.” They climb it in their dreams, trading memories for glimpses of paths not yet walked. Some never wake. The Gray Wanderer claims that the Stair is Ikasha’s spine.
Ways Between Superstitions (burn for + 1 die once)
Bread to the Stones: Crumble a crust at the base of a waystone. Ignore the first Waymark Lies penalty. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Knot the Path: Tie a single knot in a piece of string and hang it from a milestone. Cancel Path Split or take − − 1 die on your next navigation roll (your choice). ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Name to the Crossroads: Whisper a dead traveler’s name into the center stone. Gain + 1 Effect when bargaining with a Toll-Taker this scene, but mark Obligation to the Wayfinder. ‘[SUPERSTITION]‘
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from path keepers or wayward spirits.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby travelers or memory echoes.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for trackers or reflection points.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable path alignment.
Supply Strain: Mark + 1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Toll-taker or wayward guide becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to path shift or reality thinning.
Foe Appears: A memory-thief or forbidden path entity 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 wayward spirits, path entities, or alternate selves arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes - path loops/time shifts/reality fractures.
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: The Wayfinder, Dead-Road Keeper, or Road’s Child intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically - reality thins/paths converge/time loops.
Patron Omen: Divine/arcane forces take notice - omen appears/blessing lost/curse manifests.
Narrative Pivot: The story takes an unexpected turn that reframes objectives.
Region-Specific SB Options
Obishaal (Dream-Logic): Paths rearrange without warning, reflections speak unbidden, destinations shift mid-journey. A character may hear Ikasha’s whisper as a free omen (the GM may spend 1 SB to make it a false omen).
Obishaal (Memory Currency): Memories become tangible, forgotten knowledge resurfaces, past and present blur. Trading a memory here may also tick the Virtue or Vice timer depending on the memory’s nature.
Obishaal (Virtue and Vice): Decisions echo forward, alternate selves appear, paths judge moral weight. The GM may spend SB to force a character to test a virtue (e.g., “Resist the temptation to lie”) or to offer a vice that ticks their Vice timer.
Path-Moves & Procedures (Optional Depth)
Weighing of Steps (Travel Move)
When the company enters a liminal path (Mist-Ford, Bone Corridor, etc.), choose one:
Pay the Toll: Each PC names a small truth or a fond memory (GM: 1 SB banked, + 1 Position on navigation).
Refuse the Toll: + 1d on Speed, but start a Way-Scale [4] timer.
Bargain the Toll: Trade a Diamond reward as if it were a memory (see Memory Exchange below); cancel one imminent Club card in this scene.
When Way-Scale fills, trigger Crossroads Judgment at the next junction.
Reflection Duel (Social/Moral Test)
When confronted by an alternate self or Reflection Point, state what that self wants from you and roll your best social action.
Success: Gain a Guide-Light tag for the scene and clear 1 tick from Paths Decide.
Mixed: Trade places for one exchange or take a Condition: Disoriented.
Miss: The reflection walks away with one of your Diamonds (GM picks the most narratively apt).
Memory Exchange (Rates & Risks)
| Memory Offered | Buys You | Side Effect |
|---|---|---|
| A childhood smell, a forgotten nickname | + 1 Position on one crossing | A familiar place feels strange for a scene |
| A first failure or small betrayal | Cancel one minor Complication | You gain a tell (the Ways recognize you) |
| A true fear you have never spoken | Guide-Light or Way-Cord-like effect | A dream pursues you for 1–3 nights |
| The details of a kept promise | Safe Passage for the party | An NPC tied to that promise misremembers you |
| The meaning behind a scar | Convert one Club into Trace only | The scar “moves” (cosmetic) until the next dawn |
| A perfect day (all details) | Treat the next Heart face as an ally | Start Dream-Bleed [3] on the map |
Exchange Rule: If you pay the same kind of memory twice in a journey, start Hollowing [4]. When it fills, you gain the Backwards Pilgrim tag until you reclaim what was lost.
Way-Keys & Taboos (d6)
Speak Last: Only the final word said at a gate is true; others are “practice.” First speakers take − − 1d on their next test.
Step Odd: Crossings require an odd number of steps; even counts loop you back one scene.
Name Nothing: True names wake Name-Theft; use titles or lose a Diamond.
Wet Iron: A drop of water on iron cancels one glamour once per scene.
Back Gift: Leave something behind to go forward; refuse and tick Way-Scale.
Answer Bent: Answer a waystone’s question with a metaphor, not a fact, or trigger Truth Payment.
Boss Seeds (three-phase foes)
The Archivist of Unmade Roads (cloak stitched from surveyor’s cords) — Phases: Receipts of Refusal → Stay of Journey → Unfiled Options. Cracks: a Choice Compass reveals the true path; a Scale-Clearing voids his claim.
The Toll-Matriarch Beneath the Bridge (many hands, one voice like wet stone) — Phases: Truth Payment → Scale-Clearing → Forbidden Path. Cracks: a Passage Token marks you as belonging; a Road’s Name commands her to stand aside.
The Wayfinder’s Shadow (your silhouette, two steps ahead) — Phases: Crossroads Judgment → Guide-Light → Haste Mark. Cracks: a Memory-Anchor keeps you grounded; a Grace Passage slips past its gaze.
Ikasha’s Nightmare (Dream-Eater) — Appears only in the deepest layer. Phases: Whispers → Temptation → Consumption. Cracks: a Virtue filled timer can be spent to reject the nightmare; a memory of true self-sacrifice (cost 1 permanent Bond) banishes it entirely.
Encounter Seeds (quick hooks)
The Promise Bridge’s Receipt: An old vow you never spoke was logged here. To cross, define when you would have sworn it—and to whom.
Thirteenth Stone Auction: The stone sells three possible endings. Each bidder is you from a different failure.
Bone Corridor Choir: Shadows sing a name wrong by one letter. Correct it and gain Truth-Compass; ignore it and start Name-Theft.
Ikasha’s Finger Bone: A character finds a bone that pulses with dream-light. If they hold it while sleeping, they can speak to Ikasha directly—but each time, the Waking Dream timer ticks.
Extensions (Plug-in)
Choice Dial (Resolve ↔︎ Drift)
Track the party’s footing between firm intent and wandering.
Resolve High: + 1 Position on Path Split tests; the first Dream-Bleed each session hits harder (start at 2).
Drift High: + 1 Effect when bargaining with way-entities; the first Truth Payment each session costs a cherished detail.
Center the Dial by naming aloud the next choice and why you might refuse it; clear 1 tick from Way-Scale.
Counter-Seal (once/scene, if justified)
Break a single metaphysical instruction (taboo, key, or omen) by presenting a memory in symbol form (a token, a letter, a sketch). Gain + 1d on that crossing; the GM banks 1 SB as a Marked Consequence to spend when reflections return.
Start-of-Scene Murmurs (1d6)
Second Sunrise: light arrives twice; your first missed navigation roll becomes a mixed success.
Name Draft: the air steals a syllable; your next lie sounds true once.
Echo Scale: your footprints owe a step—skip a square or tick Way-Scale + 1.
Pale Bell: time hiccups; the first Club can be delayed until the end of the scene.
Traveler’s Chorus: distant voices agree with you; + 1d on appeals to path entities.
Hollow Weather: rain that does not wet; conditions look dire but impose no penalties this scene.
Plug-in SB Conversions (Obishaal Flavor)
1 SB → Footprint Vote: your tracks choose a different direction; increase DV by 1 on any roll that relies on following a trail.
2 SB → Echo of Refusal: a choice you avoided manifests as a minor obstacle (a locked gate, a forgotten toll). If the choice involved a vice, also tick the Vice timer of the character who refused.
3+ SB → Threshold Cracks: the path fractures; gain a temporary Path-Cutter effect but start Convergence [4] (all travelers you have met will arrive together at the next junction). Additionally, Ikasha’s dream seeps through the cracks; each character hears a single word of her voice.
Cross-Regional Conversions (Using Diamonds Across the Map)
Valewood: Road’s Name may count as a Valeheart Clause once if spoken under leaves; doing so creates Court Tithe [2].
Mistlands: Grace Passage functions as Pall Indulgence over one levee crown at night; ring a bell afterward or start Witchlight Count.
Vhasia: Way-Wisdom can be presented as “pilgrim right” to bypass one Interdict barrier; begin a Parlement Divided tick.
Viterra: Passage Token can be notarized into a temporary Ferry Priority; on use, advance Border-Lace.
Ubral: Memory-Anchor counts as a Guest-Token at one hearth if you recount a family road-tale.
Silkstrand: Path-Cutter doubles as a night-boat route once; spend 1 favor with a smuggler or trigger Seal Counterfeit.
Linn: Choice Compass acts as a Pilot’s Token in a reed-maze if you pay a name to the water.
Theona: Crossroads Boon allows counting “eight-and-one” to cross an Uncounted Bridge safely once.
In Obishaal, power flows through understanding the metaphysical nature of dreams, the ability to navigate virtue and vice, and the careful management of one’s weight before the scales. The true authorities are those who know the True Names of dream-layers, can mediate between the living and the Unsettled, and understand the currency of virtue.
For the GM: Patronage in Obishaal revolves around guidance, safe passage, and the ability to navigate moral tests. Rewards often take the form of dream-tokens, fragments of Ikasha’s memory, or knowledge of a layer’s True Name. To emphasize this:
Tie rewards to visible symbols (compasses, anchors, bells) that can be challenged, stolen, or voided by the dream itself.
Let rival guides (Virtue vs. Vice) issue conflicting directions, forcing players to choose whose favor matters more.
Use the crossroads, waystations, and dream-layers as arenas for moral contests, where a single act of mercy can ascend you—and a single act of cruelty can damn you.
In Obishaal, your virtue is your power, and your power determines whether you wake or sleep forever.
The Wilds
Roads, Ruins, and Weather.
Between towns and treaties lies the patience of the land. Old roads remember armies; cairns remember names no book keeps. In the Wilds, law thins to trail-marks and favors, and the weather keeps its own counsel. The Edgewalker marks the last reliable well and asks who keeps its approach clear. The people who live here mark the season when the water must be left alone. A traveller needs both answers.
I am a ranger now. Stonehaven trained me as a scholar—mapping ruins, copying old ledgers, believing that ink could preserve what the world forgot. Tam taught me that the world does not forget. It waits. And while it waits, it watches. The wilds don’t need your roads or your rules; they’ve got their own ways of keeping score. Follow the cairns if you want to live, and always leave something behind—a coin, a story, a breath held just long enough to be noticed. Every hill hides a secret, and every hollow breathes.
The land has a ledger too. It just doesn’t use ink. Between the cartographers’ claims, the wilds endure—uninterested in borders, indifferent to tariffs. Here, rangers read spoor and weather; hermits keep shrines at forgotten fords; beasts and older things observe travelers with eyes that have seen empires rise and fall. Travel is a negotiation with the land itself, and the land always remembers a slight. The hollows have long memories. They are not cruel. They are not kind. They are patient.
Never sleep in a hollow that has soot on the ceiling without adding your own to the fire. The land knows the difference between a guest and a thief. It also knows the difference between a thief and a corpse. It prefers the corpse. Less arguing.
— Moira of Stonehaven, ranger and reluctant debt-keeper
What do people eat for breakfast? Whatever they found—berries, roots, a rabbit snared at dawn. The wilds provide. The wilds also take. The taking is breakfast for something else.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To read the sky. Wilds children are taught the eight winds by taste: North is dry, South is wet, East is cold, West is warm, and the ninth—the wind that has no direction because it is the land’s own breath. The land’s breath is a warning.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their pack. A stranger whose pack is heavy has been traveling long. A stranger whose pack is light has just started. A stranger with no pack is either a fool or a ghost. The wilds eat fools. Ghosts eat the wilds.
What is the most common crime? Forgetting—but forgetting is not a crime, it is a survival strategy. The wilds are full of things that want to be forgotten. A traveler who forgets them may pass safely. A traveler who remembers must pay a toll. The toll is a story. The story is the memory. The memory is the trap.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The wilds are not empty. They are full of watchers—spirits, beasts, old things that do not have names because names are debts. The watchers do not interfere. They watch. They wait. They remember every footprint. When the footprints stop, the watchers move on.
Where do people go when they die? Into the land. The dead are not buried. They are left where they fell. The land absorbs them. The land grows a little richer. The land’s memory grows a little longer. The dead become the land’s memory. The memory is the wilds.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You leave an offering—a coin, a button, a lock of hair—at the place where the wrong was done. The land accepts or refuses. If the offering is gone by morning, you are forgiven. If it remains, you are not. If it has been moved, the land is testing you. The test is the walk. The walk is the apology.
What is the most important festival? The Turning of the Leaves (autumn). The wilds change color. The colors are the land’s mood. Red is anger. Gold is warning. Brown is patience. Green is forgetfulness. This year, the leaves are red. The land is angry. Do not ask why.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The wilds have a heart. It is a stone, buried beneath the oldest oak. The stone is warm. The stone is beating. The stone is the land’s pulse. If the stone stops, the wilds die. If the wilds die, there is nothing left to remember. Nothing left to wait.
The Wilds — “Roads, Ruins, and Weather”
Quick Reference
Tagline: The land walks when you don’t watch it, and the roads remember who bled on them.
Claimant Chief (Elite): “These lands answer not to charters but to those who can read their signs and respect their moods. Authority here is earned one campfire at a time, by proving you understand the difference between claiming and belonging.”
Forager Child (Commoner): “The wilds don’t need your roads or your rules – they got their own ways of keeping score. Follow the cairns if you want to live, and always leave something behind to thank the land for letting you pass. Every hill hides a secret, and every hollow breathes.”
Genre / Mood: Hexcrawl wanderlust, ruin-haunted silence, weather as character.
Starting Location: A shelter hollow carved into a fallen giant’s ribcage, moss glowing faintly under starlight. A Forager Child offers a route-song: “The Bad Ground shifts, and the weather walks behind it. Sing with me, or walk alone.”
Between towns and treaties lies the patience of the land. Old roads remember armies; cairns remember names no book keeps. In the Wilds, law thins to trail-marks and favors, and the weather keeps its own counsel. This is the country of the hexcrawl: a patchwork of hidden valleys, forgotten ruins, beast lairs, and the bones of failed settlements. No single authority rules here—instead, the land itself is the measure, and every crossing writes a new line. Walk soft, read the wind, bargain with whatever still listens, and keep one eye on the horizon. The next hex may hold water, treasure, or teeth.
What you notice first: The silence after a bird stops singing. The way a cairn seems to have shifted since you passed it last. The smell of rain on dry stone, even when the sky is clear.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never sleep in a hollow that has soot on the ceiling without adding your own to the fire. The land knows the difference between a guest and a thief.
The Wilds Timer
The land has a memory. Track it with a visible timer:
The Wilds Timer [6]: Tracks the land’s growing attention. Ticks when:
The party ignores a cairn offering (+1)
The GM spends 2+ SB on environmental complications (+1)
A character speaks a true name aloud in an unmarked place (+2)
The party takes the ninth step without pausing (+1)
At 3 segments: Navigation rolls gain +1 DV. Paths begin to loop. At 6 segments: The land manifests — roll on the Manifestation table (see below).
Regional Mood: The Land That Watches
Here, the wilds are not empty—they are patient. Every ridge has been climbed by someone who never came down; every spring has been drunk from by a hundred generations of the lost. The land remembers every footstep, every campfire, every promise whispered into the wind. It does not judge, but it does not forget. Power in the wilds is not given by crowns or charters—it is earned by reading the weather, by leaving the right offering at the right cairn, by knowing when to move and when to wait. Those who rush are swallowed; those who listen are guided. The wilds are not a destination. They are the conversation between the map and the untamed.
In any Wilds scene, the ninth cairn you pass in a day will be warm to the touch. Leave an offering—a pinch of salt, a copper coin, a single word spoken to the wind—or the path will forget you. Those who forget to pay find that the next crossing leads back to the same cairn, and the cairn has grown a new stone. The stone has their name on it.
Travel at a Glance (Fast & Loose)
A journey through the Wilds is a series of choices, not a checklist. Before each leg (a day, a stretch of road, a single hex), the party picks two priorities from Speed, Stealth, Safety, Survey. Those become your edge; the others become vulnerabilities. The GM then frames a single roll based on the terrain and the weather’s mood (see Weather Whims, below). Success means you find what you sought; a mixed result trades progress for a cost; a miss throws a complication from the Clubs table onto the path.
Weather Whims (d6, one per leg)
Glass-clear – long sight, easy navigation. +1 to Survey actions.
Low fog – stealth advantage, speed suffers. +1 to Stealth, –1 to Speed.
Trickle rain – tracks wash, cold bites. First navigation or tracking roll at –1 die.
Dry cold / heat – resources drain faster. Mark +1 supply strain at end of leg.
Shifting wind – smoke and scent lie. Reroll one die on a weather-related check, but the GM may bank 1 SB.
Omen sky (aurora, sun-dog, three moons) – the land is listening. The GM may ask one player to answer a single question about the party’s future.
Making Camp
When you stop, choose one boon and accept one risk:
Boon: heal a piece of gear; clear 1 Fatigue; scout tomorrow’s weather; share a story with a road spirit (gain a Truce Cord).
Risk: thin shelter (next weather hits harder); smoky fire (attracts prowlers); exposed approach (ambush more likely); hungry neighbors (locals or beasts appear).
A road spirit’s favor requires a small offering—a pinch of salt, a dropped coin, a whispered truth. Be polite.
Spades — Places (Hex Terrain)
Crossing Point — Ford, ice-span, stepping logs, dune saddle, reef shelf. The crossing has a price: a stone, a story, or a moment of silence. The water hums when it’s satisfied. Hook: To cross without incident, offer something (1 Boon, a memory, or a story). The GM may accept or demand more. Refusal ticks the Wilds Timer +1.
Lookout Knoll — Tor, cliff, dune, ridge with wind-carved marker. From here, you can see three hexes in clear weather—and one that shouldn’t exist, flickering like a heat-shaped lie. Hook: Spend a scene observing. Roll Wits+Lore (DV 3). On success, learn the nature of one nearby hex. On a 1, the wind tells a lie — gain false information and tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Old Road — Trace with cairns and switchbacks half-eaten by terrain. The cobbles are worn smooth by ghosts. They whisper directions at dusk. The directions are always true, but never complete. Hook: Walking the road at dusk gives +1 die to navigation, but the GM gains 1 SB (the ghosts will ask for a story before you leave). If you can’t tell one, lose 1 Fatigue and tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Shelter Hollow — Overhang, cave, root cellar; soot says “used lately.” The soot is layered in thin, greasy rings. Someone has been coming here for a very long time. The hollow smells of wet fur and old secrets. Hook: Resting here clears 1 Fatigue. The soot on the ceiling is layered — each layer is a different color. If you leave your own mark, the hollow will remember you (gain +1 Position on your next roll in this hex).
Water Source — Spring, seep, fog net, snow pan, guarded by thorns or stone. The water tastes of iron and old bargains. Drink deep, but leave a coin—copper for a safe draw, silver for a question answered. Hook: Drinking here gives +1 die to the next roll. Leaving a coin gives +1 Position on the next encounter. The water is cold even in summer — something sleeps beneath it. If you take without offering, tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Windbreak — Rock ribs, lee of pines, reed-wall berm. The windbreak smells of woodsmoke and wool. Someone camped here last night. Their fire is still warm. Hook: You may find a small cache (1 Supply) or a sign of who passed before you. Reading the sign (Wits+Lore DV 3) reveals their direction and number. If you use the fire without leaving fuel, tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Ruined Outpost — Watchstack, wayside shrine, marker pile. The ruin’s flagstones are warm, as if a great beast sleeps beneath them. The air tastes of rust and thyme. Hook: The ruin has a secret (a hidden door, a buried cache, a ghost). Searching takes a scene and a Wits+Insight test (DV 4). On success, find 1 Diamond of the GM’s choice. On failure, the land’s attention sharpens — tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Bad Ground — Sinkhole, bog crust, crevasse, loess slump. The ground breathes—a slow, deep inhalation that lifts your heels. Step lightly or it will swallow you. Hook: Crossing requires a Body+Athletics test (DV 4). On failure, lose 1 Supply (drowned) and tick the Wilds Timer +1. The ground has teeth — it remembers those who fall.
Gate Gully — Pinch point between bluffs, dunes, or ice hummocks. The gully has a name carved in the rock. The name changes every season. Carve yours, and you may never leave. Hook: Carving your name in the gully grants +1 die to all rolls in this hex — but you are now part of its history. The next time you pass, the gully will remember you. The name carved deepest is a warning: “They stayed too long.”
Boundary Row — Totems, standing stones, prayer flags bent by weather. The flags are faded. The last prayer was for rain—and it still hasn’t come. The totems have grown moss in the shape of faces. Hook: Crossing the boundary without an offering angers the land. The totems have a pattern — eight in a row, then a gap. The ninth totem was taken. Whoever took it did not return. If you cross without offering, tick the Wilds Timer +2.
Worksite — Abandoned mine, quarry, logging camp, salt pan. The tools are scattered, but none are rusted. Whoever left did not plan to return—or has not yet finished. Hook: A successful Craft test (DV 3) reveals the tools are still sharp. Someone comes back to use them. They will return within 1d4 days. If you wait, you may meet them. If you take tools without leaving payment, tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Signal Height — Old fire-pit or mirror stand; smoke stains linger. Light the fire, and someone will answer. Whether they are friend or foe is your risk. The smoke always smells of your childhood. Hook: Lighting the fire summons someone — a guide, a warden, or a spirit. The GM rolls on the Hearts table. The fire also ticks the Wilds Timer +1. If you light it at the ninth hour, the one who answers is always the same — the Hollow’s Own.
Trail Nexus — Migratory, pack, or contraband paths knot here. Three trails meet, but only two are on any map. The third belongs to the dead. Their footprints point the wrong way. Hook: Following the dead’s path leads to a thin place (see Ways Between). The footprints are fresh — someone walked this way recently. They did not come back. If you take the third path, roll Spirit+Endurance (DV 4). On failure, tick the Wilds Timer +2 and gain the Marked by the Dead condition.
Hearts — People & Factions (Hex Denizens)
Forager Child — Goat-herd or berry-picker with truer maps than yours. Their map is drawn on a scrap of bark. It shows a path that disappears at a standing stone. The stone is not on any other map. Hook: The child will trade their map for a story or a piece of bread. The map is accurate — but the path only appears at dusk. If you take the map without offering, the child’s ghost will follow you (gain the Haunted condition for one session).
Guide — Three routes and one price (changes daily); navigation as negotiation. Their price is never coin. It is a favor, a secret, or a night’s watch. They will not tell you which until you arrive. Hook: The guide will not tell you the price until you reach the destination. If you refuse to pay, they leave you at the last crossing. Their silence is a kind of judgment — you gain -1 Position on all navigation rolls in this region until you settle the debt.
Warden Patrol — Local badges, local laws, local patience; order as familiarity. Their badge is a chipped sunburst. They serve a crown that no longer exists. The crown does not pay them. The land does. Hook: The wardens will escort you through their territory — but they will ask questions. Refusing answers starts a Suspicion [4] timer. When it fills, they detain you for “questioning” (lose 1 segment of travel progress).
Caravan Crew — Drovers, porters, yarn-post hands trading speed for coin. They know every shortcut and every ambush. They will share both—for a price. Their silence is purchased in stories. Hook: Traveling with the crew gives +1 die to navigation, but their loyalty is to their cargo, not to you. If a better offer comes, they will abandon you. The crew leader carries a tally of every story they’ve been told — and every one they’ve sold.
Pilgrims — Bound for a tucked-away shrine or stone; faith as a destination. Their shrine has no name. The stone there is warm, and it answers questions poorly. It prefers to ask them. Hook: The pilgrims will guide you to the shrine if you walk with them for a day. The shrine asks one question of each visitor. Answering truthfully grants a Boon; refusing ticks the Wilds Timer +2. The pilgrims do not speak of what they have been asked.
Poachers — Know every snare and shortcut; survival as expertise. They wear the teeth of game wardens as necklaces. The game wardens are still alive. They are saving for a full set. Hook: The poachers will trade information for silence — they don’t want their route known. Their information is always accurate. The price is a promise not to reveal their location. Breaking the promise ticks the Wilds Timer +3.
Hermit-Healer — Dogs, geese, and opinions about weather; wisdom as isolation. Their poultices smell of grave-moss. They work anyway. The dogs do not bark at strangers—they judge them. Hook: The healer will treat wounds for a story. If the story is true, they also give a charm (+1 die to resist poison for one session). If false, the charm turns against you. The healer’s dogs will remember which one you told.
Prospectors — Salt, amber, iron, fungus; chasing rumors and glint. Their claim is marked with a knot of red thread. Cross it, and they will shoot. The thread glows when a stranger’s foot touches it. Hook: The prospectors will share their find if you help them work — a day of labor for a share of the claim. The claim may be worthless — or it may be the mother lode. The red thread was tied by the land itself; cutting it ticks the Wilds Timer +2.
War-Band — Reavers or “escorts,” depending on your purse; violence as commerce. Their banner is a painted skull. The paint is from a dead comrade’s blood. They add a finger bone to the standard after every contract. Hook: The war-band will fight for you if you pay in silver or supplies. Their loyalty is to the purse, not to you. If you can’t pay, they may take what you have. Their banner has nine finger bones — the ninth is always the last contractor who couldn’t pay.
Monster-Hunter — Rite-keeper wearing yesterday’s trophies; death as livelihood. Their trophy is still warm. The monster’s mate is close behind. They are not running—they are leading. Hook: The hunter knows the location of a nearby lair. They will guide you there — for a share of the kill. The mate is already hunting them. If you accept, roll Wits+Lore (DV 4) to avoid the mate’s ambush. On failure, the hunter dies and you gain a blood-debt (tick the Wilds Timer +2).
Quartermaster — Ledgers first, hospitality second; supply as authority. Their measure is written in a code only they understand. The code is their life story. The margins are full of regrets. Hook: The quartermaster can supply your party — for a price. They have a ledger of debts owed to them. You can pay in coin, labor, or a promise. The promise is always the most expensive. The ninth entry in their ledger is always blank — it awaits your name.
Claimant Chief — Papers and spears to match; legitimacy as force. Their papers are stained with water and blood. Both are still wet. The water came from a spring they poisoned. The blood from the spring’s keeper. Hook: The chief will grant you passage — if you swear an oath to them. The oath is witnessed by the land. Breaking it ticks the Wilds Timer +3. The chief’s papers have a seal — a bell without a clapper. The silence is the signature.
The Stranger — Spirit-touched nomad or emissary; rules bend near them. They have no shadow. The ground does not remember their footprints. Their voice echoes twice—once for them, once for the land. Hook: The Stranger knows the Wilds Timer’s true level. They will tell you — for a memory. The memory must be something you cherish. They will not take it by force. They will ask. If you refuse, they will not speak again. If you offer a false memory, the land will know — tick the Wilds Timer +2.
Additional Denizens of the Wilds
Not every soul in the wilds is a wanderer. Some have built fragile refuges, while others have been broken by war, exile, or the land itself.
Isolated Town (Palings) — A handful of families eking out a living behind a thorn hedge. The gate is a wagon axle lashed upright. They trade hides for salt and ask no questions. Their children have never seen a paved road. Hook: The town will trade supplies for stories. They are desperate for news of the outside world. If you bring news of a war, they will give you 2 Supply. If you bring news of peace, they will give you a Guide (treat as a Diamond, +1 die to navigation for one leg). Their children have never seen a road — they will follow you if you leave.
Refugee Train — A column of worn carts and quieter people fleeing a war or a curse. Their leader carries a charter from a lord who is now dead. They will trade stories for passage and bury their dead without markers. Hook: The refugees know the land ahead better than any map. They will share their knowledge if you help them bury their dead. The dead have no markers — but the land remembers them. If you help, gain +1 die on all navigation rolls for one leg. If you refuse, the dead will remember you (tick the Wilds Timer +1).
Deserter Camp — Soldiers who threw down their colors, now living by stealth. They still drill at dawn and keep a sharp watch. Their loyalty is to each other, not to any flag. They may know the location of an abandoned fort. Hook: The deserters will trade information for food or weapons. They know the location of a nearby fort (treat as a Spades draw for a Ruined Outpost). If you give them weapons, they will fight for you once (Cap 2, one scene). If you give them food, they will guide you through one hazardous hex (ignore one Clubs draw).
Beastman Hunting Band — Feral-looking folk with antler charms and pelts stitched to skin. They do not speak Utaran. They communicate in growls and hand signs. They are not savages—they are the land’s first children, and they remember when the roads were deer paths. Hook: The beastmen will not attack if you approach slowly and show your palms. They speak in gestures — a successful Wits+Insight test (DV 3) allows basic communication. They know the location of every water source in the hex. In exchange for a story about a hunt, they will lead you to water (clear 1 Supply strain). If you threaten them, they will vanish — and the land will remember your face.
Lost Tribe (Cairn-Folk) — Descendants of a settlement that fell off every map. They wear the teeth of their ancestors and tattoo their lineage on their faces. They believe the Hollow is a sleeping god and that the party are its messengers. They are wrong—or are they? Hook: The Cairn-Folk believe the Hollow will wake when the ninth stone is placed on the Great Cairn. They will ask the party to bring them a stone from a distant mountain. If you accept, gain a Quest Timer [6]. If you refuse, they will not speak to you again. If you complete the quest, gain a permanent Cairn-Friend trait (+1 die on all rolls in this region).
Rootless Mercenaries — A dozen sell-swords between contracts, nursing old wounds. Their captain lost an eye to a mushroom spore. They will fight for coin, but they will also fight for a hot meal. They know the location of a forgotten cache of arms. Hook: The mercenaries will fight for you if you pay in coin or supplies. They know the location of a cache of arms (treat as a Diamond, grants +1 die to combat for one scene). The captain’s lost eye was taken by a spore that still grows in his socket — he will trade the location for a cure (a Medicine test DV 4 or a story about a healer).
Anchorite in a Dead Tower — A holy woman who has not spoken in twenty years. She writes prophecies on the walls with charcoal. The prophecies are always about the next storm or the next stranger to arrive. She will not look at you if your shadow is wrong. Hook: The Anchorite writes prophecies on the walls. A successful Wits+Lore test (DV 4) reveals the next weather omen (see Weather Omens table). If your shadow is wrong (i.e., you have a Shadow Debt), she will not speak to you. If you ask her a question, she will write the answer — but it is always about a storm, not about what you asked.
Feral Children — Orphaned by a raid or a plague, raised by wolves or worse. They know every hidden spring and every game trail. They will not come close, but they will watch. Leave them a piece of bread, and they may leave you a knapped arrowhead—or a warning. Hook: The children will not approach. If you leave an offering (bread, salt, a shiny object), they will leave something in return. Roll d6: 1-2: a knapped arrowhead (+1 die to one ranged attack); 3-4: a warning about the next hex (ignore one Clubs draw); 5-6: a map to a hidden cache (treat as a Diamond). If you try to follow them, they will vanish — and you will be lost (lose 1 segment of travel progress).
Cult of the Unburied — Grave-tenders who believe the dead should not be left to the land. They carry iron shovels and speak in hushed tones. They burn the bodies of the fallen they find, lest the Hollow take them. They may be willing to burn your dead as well—for a story. Hook: The Cult will burn your dead for a story about the deceased. The story must be true — they can tell if you lie. If you agree, gain +1 die on all rolls against spirits for one session. If you refuse, they will follow you until you bury your dead properly — and they are patient.
Exiled Scholar — An academic who fled a city after proving the wrong theorem. He carries a single book—his own—and will trade a chapter for a night’s shelter. The book contains a map to a ruin that does not appear on any official chart. Hook: The scholar will trade a chapter of his book for shelter. Each chapter contains a clue to a ruin’s location. If you give him shelter, gain a Clue (treat as a String). If you steal his book, gain the ruin’s location — but the scholar’s ghost will follow you (gain the Haunted condition until you return the book).
The Gray Singer — A blind woman who wanders the wilds humming. Her songs calm territorial beasts and call down birds. She is looking for a melody she heard in a dream. If you help her find it, she will teach you a verse that quells a storm. Hook: The Gray Singer is searching for a melody. If you help her (a Wits+Performance test DV 4), she will teach you a verse. Singing the verse calms one weather hazard (cancel one Weather Turn complication). If you refuse, she will hum a different tune — and the weather will turn against you (tick the Wilds Timer +1).
Bandit King’s Lookout — A scout for a large robber band, hiding in a hollow tree. He has a whistle that can summon a dozen riders. He is not cruel—just hungry. A bag of salt or a true story will buy his silence and his guidance around the ambush. Hook: The lookout will guide you around the ambush — for a price. Salt is acceptable. A true story is better. If you give him a story, he will tell you where the bandit king’s treasure is hidden. If you give him salt, he will only guide you around the ambush. If you give him nothing, he will blow the whistle.
The Hollow’s Own — A figure dressed in gray rags, walking the same path every dusk. They have no face—only a smooth expanse where features should be. They do not attack. They point. The direction they point is the direction the Hollow will walk next. Hook: The Hollow’s Own appears when the Wilds Timer reaches 4 or higher. They point in a direction. If you follow, you find a thin place (see Ways Between). If you ignore, the Hollow will walk in that direction at midnight — and you will be in its path. If you speak to them, they will answer in a voice that is not their own — the voice of someone you have wronged.
Clubs — Complications/Threats (Hex Hazards)
Weather Turn — Heat snap, cold snap, fog, dust; plans sag like wet leather. The wind changes direction three times in an hour. Someone is watching. The air tastes of a season that hasn’t come yet. Hook: All navigation rolls are Desperate for the scene. The air tastes of a season that hasn’t come yet — if the party takes shelter, they may wait it out (lose 1 segment of travel progress) or push through (mark 1 Fatigue). Tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Doubleback — Tracks loop; the navigator swears the land moved underfoot. Your own footprints face you. They were made yesterday—or tomorrow. The toes point toward a future you have not chosen. Hook: To escape, the party must test Wits+Lore (DV 4) or lose 1 segment of travel progress. On a failure, the GM may tick the Wilds Timer +1. The footprints are warm — they were made recently. By you.
Prowlers Shadow — Wolves, jackals, ghouls, seals, ravens by night; hunt as a company. Their eyes reflect no light. Their teeth do. They are patient. They have been following since the last hex. You are only now noticing. Hook: The prowlers will attack at a moment of weakness. The party may make a group Stealth test (DV 4) to lose them. On failure, combat — treat as Cap 2 adversary with Pack Tactics (+1 die when adjacent to another prowler). They have been following for three hexes. They know your patterns.
Route Blocked — Deadfall, rockfall, dune shift, ice heave; the path as an obstacle. The blockage was placed. The toolmarks are fresh. Whoever cleared this path did not want you to follow—or wanted you to take the other way. Hook: Clearing the blockage takes a scene and a Body+Athletics test (DV 4). On success, the path is clear. On failure, the blockage shifts — lose 1 Fatigue and tick the Wilds Timer +1. The toolmarks are fresh — someone passed this way recently. They left a message carved in the stone: “Go back.”
Quarantine Sign — Camp fever; wardens sniff your packs for death. The sign is a ribbon tied in a figure-eight. Do not cross it. The ribbon is damp. It was tied recently. The wardens are still nearby. Hook: The wardens will detain the party for inspection. They are looking for a specific person — a fugitive, a deserter, or a ghost. The party may be mistaken for them. A successful Deception test (DV 4) avoids inspection; a failure starts a Detention [4] timer.
Territorial Beast — Charge, stampede, or swarm; your choice of which is wrong. The beast’s lair is nearby. You can smell it—old blood and older musk. The ground is warm. You are standing on its pantry. Hook: The beast will attack if provoked. It can be avoided with a Stealth test (DV 4) or distracted with an offering (1 Supply). If combat occurs, treat as Cap 3 adversary with Lair Advantage (+1 die to attacks while in its territory). The beast’s lair contains a cache (roll on Diamonds table).
Elemental Front — Grassfire, peat-burn, canopy flare, blowing spindrift. The fire moves against the wind. The wind is lying. The smoke writes a word in a language you almost understand. It is a warning. Hook: The elemental front advances each scene. The party must outrun it (group Athletics test DV 4) or take Harm 1 from the elements. The smoke writes a word — reading it requires a Wits+Lore test (DV 4). On success, gain a warning about the next hex. On failure, the word is your name.
Paper vs Spear — Jurisdiction fight in the wilds stalls your day; law as argument. Two officials, one road. Both have seals. Neither will show them. The seals are warm. They have been used recently—on death warrants. Hook: The party must choose a side or find a third option. Choosing a side gains an ally and an enemy. The land is watching to see who you choose. If you choose poorly, tick the Wilds Timer +2. If you find a third option (a bribe, a story, a clever argument), gain a Favor from both sides.
Supply Pinch — Water, fuel, or feed low; pick what starves first. Your canteen is full. The water is from a source that dried up last year. You do not remember filling it. Someone did. Hook: The party must find new supplies. A Wits + Insight test (DV 3) locates water; a Craft test (DV 3) locates fuel. The water is cold — and it’s watching. If you drink it without thanking the source, tick the Wilds Timer +1. The water tastes of iron and old bargains.
Pursuit — Hunters or avengers follow; signs say “close.” The tracks are one hour old. They are gaining. The hunters do not need to sleep. They have not slept for three days. Neither have you. Hook: The pursuers will catch the party unless they find a way to slow them. An obstacle (a fallen tree, a false trail, a toll) costs 1 Supply or a Fatigue. If caught, the pursuers demand a debt be paid — a story, a memory, or a name. Refusal means combat (Cap 3).
Bad Omen — Will-lights, taboo day, saint bells silent; locals refuse to move. The omen is written in bird droppings on a milestone. It is still accurate. The birds are watching. They are waiting for you to ignore it. Hook: Following the omen grants +1 die to the next roll; ignoring it ticks the Wilds Timer +2. The birds are waiting for you to choose. If you ignore the omen, the birds will follow you for the rest of the leg — and they are not silent.
General Alarm — Levy, muster, evacuation; all tracks become checkpoints. The alarm horn is cracked. It sounds like a scream. The scream is a name. The name is yours. Hook: The party is conscripted or questioned. A successful Deception test (DV 4) avoids the worst; a failure starts a Pursuit timer. The alarm horn is cracked — it sounds like a scream. The scream is your name. Someone is calling for you.
Catastrophe — Flood, whiteout, sandstorm, lahar; timers jump like frightened deer. The catastrophe has a name. The land remembers it. The land is shouting it now. The sound is the same as a heartbeat. Yours. Hook: The catastrophe advances each round. The party must find shelter (Survival test DV 5) or take Harm 2. The land’s name is a warning. If you speak the name aloud, the catastrophe will pause for one round — but the land will remember your voice.
Expanded Travel Hazards (from expansions)
For GMs who want even more variety, add these entries to the Clubs table (either replace six existing entries or expand the table to d18 by renumbering).
Bell-Line Failure (Mistlands) — A ward-bell cracks. Wraiths cross the levee. Test Spirit + Endurance (DV 4) or gain the Marked by Mist condition (the next spirit encounter starts at Desperate Position). ‘[DEATH]’ Hook: The wraiths are drawn to the party’s warmth. If anyone carries a bell, they can ring it to drive them back — but the ring will attract something worse. Tick the Wilds Timer +1.
Star-Road Phasing (Valewood) — An ancient Lethai road flickers in and out of reality. Navigation DV +2. On a failure, the party emerges in a different hex entirely (GM chooses). ‘[MAGIC]’ Hook: The road phases at the ninth hour. If the party walks it at dusk, they may emerge in a different hex — or a different time. The Lethai roads remember the empire. They are not always happy about it.
Spirit-Dust Storm (Ashaan) — Red sand from the Red Desert carries whispering spirits. All actions Desperate for the scene. On any 1, a bound spirit breaks free and attacks (Cap 2). ‘[SPIRIT]’ Hook: The spirits are bound to the sand. If the party can speak their names, they will calm. A Wits+Lore test (DV 4) reveals a name. If you speak it, the spirit will answer one question before returning to the sand.
Ninth Night (Tulkani Circle) — The party has camped too long. The Hollow walks. An Oath-Keeper appears at midnight. It asks for a story, a memory, or a promise. Refusal deepens the land’s watchfulness. ‘[ATTENTION]’ Hook: The Oath-Keeper is patient. It will wait until midnight. If the party offers a story, it will listen and leave. If they offer a memory, it will take it and leave. If they offer a promise, it will remember — and return. Tick the Wilds Timer +1 for each refusal.
Well-Spirit Honored (Fhara) — A dry well suddenly flows, but the water carries minerals. The spirit asks for respect—an offering of dates or a true story. Granted, the water stays sweet; refused, it turns bitter for the next leg. ‘[SPIRIT]’ Hook: The well-spirit is old and lonely. If the party offers a true story, the water will remain sweet. If they offer a false story, the water will turn bitter — and the spirit will follow them for the rest of the leg.
Toll Shift (Silkstrand/Brass Coast) — A gatekeeper changes the crossing terms. All passage costs +1 Measure until the next landmark. Diplomacy requires a successful Presence + Sway (DV 4). ‘[AUTHORITY]’ Hook: The gatekeeper is testing the party. If they pay the toll, they pass. If they negotiate, they may pass for less. If they refuse, the gate will close — and the land will remember their name.
Diamonds — Rewards/Leverage (Hex Discoveries)
Cache Token — Key to a hidden food or fuel stash (once); preparation as power. The token is a knucklebone. The stash is marked with a cairn that has one stone missing. The missing stone is the token. Hook: Using the cache gives 2 Supply. The token can be used once — after that, the stash is empty. The missing stone is now your debt — the land will remember that you took from it. If you return the stone, you may use the cache again.
Right-of-Pass — Recognized marker for a named trail or crossing. The marker is a notch carved in a milestone. The notch is shaped like a bird. The bird is an owl. The owl watches at dusk. Hook: Showing the marker grants +1 Position on any travel roll on that trail. The owl watches at dusk — if you’re still on the trail, the land will test you. The test is always a question: “Why are you here?”
Warden’s Favor — Escort letter; “they’re with us” as a shield. The letter is stamped with a bell. The bell’s clapper is missing. The absence of sound is the signature. Hook: The favor grants safe passage through one warden patrol. The wardens will not question you — but they will remember your face. The letter’s bell has no clapper — it cannot ring. The silence is the signature.
Weather Window — Good forecast and a narrow gate to use it. The window is a single hour at dawn. The birds will tell you when. They will stop singing. That is the signal. Hook: The window grants +1 die to all travel rolls for one leg. The party must move quickly — the window closes at the next weather turn. If they miss it, the weather will turn against them (tick the Wilds Timer +1).
Water Deed — Lawful draw at a scarce source; necessity as a right. The deed is a clay cup. Break it, and the spring will flow—once. The cup’s shards can be traded for another deed. There are nine shards. Hook: The deed grants access to water in a dry region. The spring is cold, and the water tastes of iron — but it’s safe. The cup’s shards can be traded to the spring’s keeper for another deed. If you lose a shard, the spring will remember.
Route Song — A map scrap that actually works; knowledge as navigation. The song has eight verses. The ninth is humming. The humming is the sound of the road itself. It changes with the weather. Hook: Singing the route song grants +1 die to navigation for one leg. The humming changes with the weather — it’s the road’s mood. If you sing the ninth verse (the humming), the road will speak to you. It will ask one question. Answer truthfully, and it will show you a shortcut.
Remount Hire — Fresh legs or hulls waiting at a post; speed as a service. The remounts have no names. They answer to whistles and bribes. They remember every rider. They do not forgive cruelty. Hook: The remounts grant +1 Speed for one leg. They will not obey anyone who treats them poorly. They remember cruelty — if you mistreat them, they will throw you at the worst possible moment. If you treat them well, they will remember your kindness.
Truce Cord — Taboo exemption at a site (one scene); peace as a thread. The cord is braided from wool and ash. Burn it to invoke the truce. The ash must be from the same fire that warmed the truce. Hook: The truce lasts one scene. No violence can occur within the site. The cord’s ash must be from the same fire that warmed the truce — if you use different ash, the truce will not hold. If you break the truce, the land will remember (tick the Wilds Timer +3).
Toll Waiver — A ferry, bridge, or reef gate honors this chit; passage as paper. The chit is a dried leaf. The toll-keeper will not touch it. They will nod and wave you through. They will not speak. Hook: The waiver grants free passage through one toll. The toll-keeper will not speak to you — they will only nod. They will remember your face. If you try to use the waiver again, it will crumble in your hand.
Favor Owed — Locals owe you (or you owe them); trade for labor or insight. The favor is carved on a tally stick. Break it when the favor is done. The stick will not burn. It will only splinter. Hook: The favor can be traded for labor, information, or safe passage. The tally stick will not burn — it will only splinter. If you break it, the favor is done. If you lose it, the favor is still owed. The land will remember.
Private Audience — A keeper, shrine-warden, or spirit of the place hears you alone. The audience is held at midnight. The spirit wears your face. It asks only one question. You will answer truthfully. Hook: The spirit will answer one question truthfully — but it will ask one in return. The answer is always a weight. If you lie, the spirit will wear your face for a day. If you tell the truth, it will give you a boon (treat as a Diamond of your choice).
Road Commission — Temporary authority over a stretch of wilds. The commission is a whistle. Blow it, and the land will listen—once. The whistle is carved from a bone that was never alive. Hook: The commission grants temporary authority. The land will obey one command — but the land will remember your use of the whistle. If you use it to harm the land, tick the Wilds Timer +3. If you use it to protect the land, gain +1 Position on all rolls in this region for the rest of the session.
Earth’s Exception — One temporary rule-bend (cross during a storm, pass uncounted, beasts ignore you). The exception is a secret. The land will forget it as soon as you use it. You will remember it every night for a year. Hook: The exception lasts one scene. The land will forget it as soon as you use it — but you will remember it every night for a year. The exception is a secret — if you tell anyone, the land will remember and take it back. If you use it wisely, the land may offer you another.
Wilds Manifestation Table
When the Wilds Timer reaches 6, the land manifests. Roll 1d6:
| d6 | Manifestation |
|---|---|
| 1 | Cairn-Wight — A stone guardian rises from a nearby cairn. It demands witness: the party must speak a truth about their journey. If they refuse, it attacks (Cap 3, Harm 4). If they speak truthfully, it grants them a Cache Token (see Diamonds). |
| 2 | Weather Omen — A storm follows the party for the rest of the leg. All travel rolls are Desperate. The storm has a name — it’s the land’s voice. If the party speaks the name, the storm will pause for one scene. |
| 3 | Path Shift — The route ahead is no longer on any map. The party must navigate by instinct (Wits+Lore DV 5) or become lost (lose 2 segments of progress). The new path leads to a place that was never meant to be found. |
| 4 | Ghost Procession — The land’s memory walks. A spectral column crosses the party’s path. They must wait (lose 1 segment) or try to cross through (Spirit+Endurance DV 4, or take Harm 1). The ghosts are counting — they count in eights. If you take the ninth step, they will follow you. |
| 5 | The Land Speaks — The party hears a voice from the ground itself. It asks one question: “What do you owe?” Answering costs a memory; silence costs a name. The voice is the land’s — it has been waiting to speak to you. |
| 6 | The Ninth Step — The party finds themselves at the same crossing they passed yesterday. The Wilds Timer resets to 0. The land has decided to give them another chance — or another test. The crossing has changed — there is a new cairn. It has your name on it. |
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 (cache/pass/favor) that change position rather than call for a roll.
If any A appears, add a lingering omen of the land (a smell on the wind, a sound that carries too far, tracks that shift) that you can echo in later scenes.
The Wilds Timer should be visible to players — the land’s attention is a pressure they can feel.
Weather Omens (d10) — Mini-Generator
When the sky speaks in signs, roll to interpret its warning or promise.
| d10 | Omen Meaning |
|---|---|
| 1 | Three crows fly west—the next storm will carry voices from the past. |
| 2 | Moonring broken at midnight—the weather will shift twice before dawn. |
| 3 | Wind carries iron scent on clear air—storm approaches from the direction of old battlefields. |
| 4 | Stars vanish in pattern—the land is holding its breath; the next step decides fate. |
| 5 | Sun dogs flank the rising sun—blessing on journeys begun before noon. |
| 6 | Fog forms perfect circles—what is lost will return, but changed. |
| 7 | Lightning strikes twice in same spot—the Hollow marks this place for attention. |
| 8 | Rain falls upward for three breaths—a reversal is coming; prepare to give what you take. |
| 9 | Wind dies completely at noon—the land sleeps; move swiftly or become part of its dream. |
| 10 | Aurora pulses with your heartbeat—the sky knows your name and your burden. |
Ruin Findings (d8) — Mini-Generator
When you explore a forgotten structure, roll to discover what echoes remain.
| d8 | Discovery |
|---|---|
| 1 | A mosaic floor depicting a migration no map remembers—follow the tiles to find a hidden valley. |
| 2 | Wind whistles through broken arches in a tune that feels like home—hum it to gain +1 Effect on the next social roll. |
| 3 | Stone faces weep clear liquid that tastes of the first rain of spring—drink to clear 1 Fatigue. |
| 4 | A single tile is warm to the touch—press it to reveal a compartment holding a perfectly preserved seed. |
| 5 | Shadows move opposite the light—stand in their intersection to become invisible for one exchange. |
| 6 | Carvings show hands exchanging not goods but breaths—press your palm to the wall to share a memory. |
| 7 | The air hums at a frequency that makes teeth ache—sing against it to gain +1 die on the next magical roll. |
| 8 | A doorway frame is grown over with living stone—walk through it to leave one burden behind. |
Trail Signs (d6) — Mini-Generator
When you pause to read the land’s subtle messages, roll to interpret what the way is telling you.
| d6 | Sign Meaning |
|---|---|
| 1 | Pebbles point not to the path but to a patch of edible mushrooms—the land offers sustenance if you look aside. |
| 2 | Grass grows in perfect spirals around a stone—walk the spiral three times to find your bearings if lost. |
| 3 | A single feather lies across the trail—it belongs to a bird that nests only in places of perfect safety. |
| 4 | Moss grows thickest on the north face of rocks—but here it thrives on the south; the land is confused or changed. |
| 5 | Twigs are arranged in a pattern that matches your boot tread—something has been watching your steps. |
| 6 | Water in a puddle holds a perfect reflection…of a place you’ve never been. |
Lore Echoes (Cross-Expansion Hooks)
The Bitter Root: Daughters of the Cord use certain shelter hollows as waystations. A renegade Sister has hidden a Hollowed in a ruined outpost; the child has not moved in weeks. The outpost’s flagstones are warm — they remember her.
The Threshold Compendium: Old Roads are Class II Anchor sites—ghosts of imperial surveyors still measure the miles. Saikou Ira would leave a silver coin at every milestone. The ghosts count the coins. They have not finished counting.
Malachai, the Chained Angel: A silver coin that never spends lies at the bottom of every spring. Take it, and the water will never run dry—but the spring will remember your face. The coin has eight edges. The ninth is a scratch.
The Gray Wanderer’s Grimoire: Wilds psions are called “Stone-Listeners.” They hear the memory of old trails. Claimant chiefs pay well for their services—and dispose of those who hear too much. The stones speak in eights. The ninth word is always a name.
Wilderness Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Cairn: Crumble a crust at a boundary stone. Ignore the first Bad Ground penalty. The cairn’s stones are warm — they will remember your offering.
Knot the Trail: Tie a single knot in a piece of grass at a crossing. Cancel Doubleback or take –1 die on your next navigation roll (your choice). The knot is a promise to the land. If you break it, the land will know.
Name to the Spring: Whisper a dead traveler’s name into a water source. Gain +1 Effect when foraging this scene, but mark Obligation to the land. The spring will remember the name. It will ask for it back.
Thematic SB Spend Table
Minor Complications (1 SB)
Exposure: Your actions draw unwanted attention from wardens or local hunters.
Noise: Sounds of your actions alert nearby prowlers or caravan guards.
Trace: Evidence of your passage marks your route for trackers or claimants.
Delay: A brief but meaningful setback costs you time or favorable weather.
Supply Strain: Mark +1 segment on a relevant resource timer.
Moderate Setbacks (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: Guide or warden patrol becomes aware and begins responding.
Position Lost: You lose advantageous ground/cover/stealth due to weather shift or route blockage.
Foe Appears: A war-band or territorial beast arrives on scene.
Gear Trouble: A piece of equipment becomes Compromised/Neglected.
Lock/Barrier: A simple obstacle now requires a test to overcome.
Serious Trouble (3 SB)
Reinforcements: Additional wardens, war-bands, or prowlers arrive.
Key Gear Breaks: A crucial tool/weapon becomes temporarily unusable.
Major Twist: The situation fundamentally changes - weather turns/catastrophe strikes/quarantine declared.
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: Claimant chief, quartermaster, or The Stranger intervenes.
Scene Shift: The environment changes dramatically - weather shifts/blockage clears/catastrophe hits.
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
Wilds (Weather): Conditions shift without warning, storms arrive early, calm turns to chaos.
Wilds (Navigation): Trails reroute mid-journey, landmarks disappear, guides demand additional payment.
Wilds (Local Customs): Spirits demand tribute, territorial beasts become aggressive, local laws change with the terrain.
Wilds (The Ninth): The ninth step leads to a thin place. The ninth cairn is warm. The ninth offering is always accepted.
Terrain Stock (d20)
Roll or choose a striking detail to dress a hex.
Fresh ash on an old fire ring; prints circle around it.
Boundary totems toppled but re-stack themselves if watched politely.
Broken wagon with salt-vein crystals growing through spokes.
Singing culvert; echo names the boldest listener wrongly.
Weather bell hung in a pine; tolling swaps rain and wind.
Cairn with a copper coin balanced on edge; don’t breathe hard.
Fence of antlers pointing uphill; follow and skip one Bad Ground.
Mummified pack-beast wearing a courier’s braid; letter hums.
Pebble mosaic of an old levy call; stepping it summons wardens.
Fossil rib arch; shelter under it and dream of tomorrow’s route.
Abandoned hunter’s cache; choice of food or rumor, not both.
Mirror-puddle; shows last night’s sky whatever the hour.
Rope bridge made of prayer knots; one is freshly cut.
Scare-stakes dressed in saltcloth; something big respects them.
Stone with bite-marks; taste iron and remember a shortcut.
Old road mile-post defaced into a saint; offerings still fresh.
Thistle patch buzzing with coin-flies; feed them copper for safe passage.
Fallen giant’s footprint now a pond; frogs chant a route-song.
Soot writing on cliff: Storm at Second Bell. It’s right.
Hollow tree full of carved names; the newest is yours.
Lair Seeds (One-Page Crawls)
d12 quick lair hooks. Each can be a single session’s focus.
Fen Clockworks — Bog-gears turn under peat; each tooth a drowned oath.
Dry River Gallery — Petroglyphs re-arrange at dusk; wrong reading summons bramble knights.
Ice-Well Vault — Stairs drilled through permafrost; breath blooms frost-runes that answer questions badly.
Sunken Forum — Pillars knee-deep in silt; rust moths nest in the rostrum.
Pilgrim Kilns — Charcoal mounds hike on stilt roots at night; a hermit-healer bargains weather for charcoal.
Hanging Salt Chapel — White stalactites ring like bells; grave-eels coil in the font.
Thorn Maze Mill — Waterwheel turns without water; phase panthers pace the sluice.
Brewer’s Hollow — Barrels of wind; decant a gale or drink a calm.
Antler Archive — Tally carved on horn; theft awakens the cairn-wights’ watcher.
Black Lantern Mines — Lantern-eyes nest like bats; light buys silence, darkness buys passage.
Stormbone Spire — Vertebrae tower; earth-sharks circle beneath like sharks in sand.
Amber Orchard — Trees fossilised mid-sway; trapped thunderflies grant Weather Window when freed.
Wilderness Bestiary
A palette of strange creatures, each with signs (what you notice before it sees you) and a hook (how to engage or avoid).
Earth-Sharks — Burrow beneath loess and tundra; dorsal ridges like plowshares. Signs: furrows that breathe; pebbles rattle. Hook: lure with drumbeats or goat bells. They count in eights — if you beat nine times, they will breach.
Phase Panthers — Shadow-striped cats that step between gusts. Signs: pawprints offset from themselves. Hook: mirrored water or bell-silver disrupts the blink. The panthers phase at the ninth step — if you count their steps, you can predict where they’ll appear.
Rust Moths — Swarms that taste iron memory. Signs: lacework mail; pitted nails. Hook: feed them old keys; they ignore fresh steel. They have a ninth sense — they know when you’re carrying a forgotten debt.
Lichen-Bears — Moss-matted ursines with rock-teeth. Signs: clawed bark with green scabs. Hook: smoke of juniper calms; salt enrages. Their teeth are warm — they remember every meal.
Wind Drakes — Rib-thin sky-serpents that ride fronts. Signs: shed vanes; feathers like glass. Hook: whistle back the storm to ground them. They have nine ribs — if you count them, they will notice.
Ooze-Remnants — Alchemical slough from an old field lab. Signs: boot-holes rounded smooth. Hook: wood ash firms them; vinegar makes them sprint. They remember the last formula — it’s written in their movement.
Fell Harts — Antlered shades that herd the living toward cliffs. Signs: hoofprints that don’t compress soil. Hook: speak a hunter’s apology while walking backward. They count their herd in eights — the ninth is always a ghost.
Cairn-Wights — Stone-stack custodians; patient as frost. Signs: pebbles rearranged around your fire. Hook: rebuild the stack correctly; they serve until dawn. They count in stones — if you add a ninth, they will wake.
Thundertusks — Boars that store lightning in tusk-veins. Signs: fused sand beads; singed roots. Hook: ground your spear; throw shadow to draw the strike. Their tusks hum in eights — the ninth is a warning.
Lantern-Eyes — Floating orbs of watchlight rumor; jealous of secrets. Signs: daylight in ravines at midnight. Hook: offer a whispered truth; they part like reeds. They count secrets in eights — the ninth is always yours.
Grave-Eels — Burrow through barrow loam; taste names. Signs: sinking turf over old wars. Hook: sing lineage or throw false names to mislead. They have nine names — if you speak all of them, they will follow you.
Bramble Knights — Empty helms grown through with thorn; patrol old borders. Signs: briar in boot-grease. Hook: present a hedge-blessing; they escort instead of impale. They count in thorns — the ninth is always sharp.
When you discover a hidden cache or an ancient hoard, roll or pick:
Route-stones that warm near true north.
Weather-bell clapper that tolls only for lightning.
Trail-right knot dyed in berry law; locals honor it once.
Salt-vein pick that cuts oozes like cloth.
Glass feather; break to call a wind drake for one pass.
Tally leaf waterproofed with eel-fat; ink never runs, words drift.
Thorn sigil that bramble knights read as parley.
Coin-fly cocoon; hatch it for one honest guide to the nearest water.
Bone flute that calls earth-sharks to circle elsewhere.
Lantern-eye husk; squeeze for daylight the length of a camp prayer.
Omens & Signs
The land speaks. Use these when the party pauses or when the GM needs a portent.
Sky Signs (d8)
sun-dog
mare’s tails
anvil cloud faces the wrong way
silent birds
far thunder without storm
moon with halo
ash scent on clear air
stars “shiver”
Ground Signs (d8)
cairn with new pebble
boot prints that end at rock
butchered game left neat
snapped twig at head height
ash under wet moss
ward-knot cut
trail beads on shrub
a single coin on a stone
In the Wilds, power flows through knowledge of the land, the ability to navigate without formal authority, and the careful cultivation of local relationships. True authority comes from understanding weather patterns, reading tracks, and maintaining the favor of both human inhabitants and the spirits of place. Those who can provide safe passage, find water in dry times, or mediate between conflicting claims hold the most influence.
For the GM: Patronage in the Wilds revolves around practical knowledge, local customs, and the ability to provide essential services like navigation, shelter, and supply. Rewards often take the form of tokens, passes, and local knowledge that can be leveraged into greater safety and efficiency. To emphasize the hexcrawl feel:
Key 6–10 interesting hexes before the session, then use the generator to fill the rest.
Let the party discover new routes, short cuts, and hidden lairs through successful scouting or lucky finds.
Offer Diamonds as “exploration rewards” that unlock new options (a cache token, a safe passage, a local ally).
In the Wilds, your skill is your standing, and your standing determines whether you survive or perish.
Fast reskin palette
- Forest
swap dunes→deadfall, spindrift→canopy flare, prowlers→boar/wolves; water = spring/stream.
- Desert
swap bog→salt pan, fog→dust, shelter = overhang/wadi; water = seep/fog net.
- Tundra/Ice
swap dune shift→ice heave, fire→spindrift, boats→sleds; prowlers = bears/wolves.
- Coast/Isles
crossings = reef shelves, prowlers = seals/raiders, alarms = harbor booms; fuel = driftwood.
- Swamp/Fen
crossings = corduroy/log causeways, bad ground = peat crust, prowlers = gators/leeches.
- Highlands
crossings = cols and scree traverses, alarms = beacon chains, prowlers = cats/eagles.
Dungeons
Living Infrastructure.
Beneath the surface, ancient places breathe with mechanical lungs and dream electric dreams. The walls remember every footfall; the air carries whispers of forgotten conversations. The Edgewalker believes dungeons are infrastructure. The prisoners believe they are hungry. Both are correct.
I am a Scholar-Prisoner. The walls here have a memory like old parchment—they remember every scream, every spell, every drop of blood spilled on the stones. And sometimes, when the air’s just right, they whisper it back to you. The dungeon listens. The question is whether it learns. I have been here for nine years. I have heard it learning. It started with single words. Then sentences. Now it speaks in paragraphs. Last week, it finished my thoughts before I did.
Dungeons are not ruins—they are systems. Ventilation shafts that breathe, water channels that pulse, doors that open and close without any hand to move them. The Aeler built many of them; the Covenant sealed others; the Sidhi mined a few; and some were never built at all. They grew. Like fungus in the dark. Like a story told too many times. Like a debt that compounds.
Never ignore a door that opens when you’re not looking. The dungeon is offering you a choice. Refuse, and the next door may not open at all. Accept, and the door may lead to a room that was always there, waiting for someone to finally walk through. The room has been waiting for nine thousand years. It is not tired of waiting.
— The Dungeon’s Architect, whose plans are written in a language no one speaks and whose signature is a thumbprint that could be anyone’s
What do people eat for breakfast? Fungus bread and cave water—the fungus grows on the walls, the water drips from the ceiling. Both taste of stone. Both are all there is.
What does a child learn before they can walk? To count footsteps. Dungeon children are taught the eight sounds of the deep: Drip, Creak, Groan, Whisper, Scrape, Echo, Silence, and the ninth—the sound of the dungeon’s own heartbeat. The heartbeat is a door opening. The door is always behind you.
What is the first thing you notice about a stranger? Their shadow. Dungeon shadows are long, even when the light is bright. A stranger whose shadow is too short has been here too long. A stranger whose shadow moves independently has been touched by the deep. A stranger with no shadow is not a stranger. They are the dungeon’s guest. The dungeon never lets guests leave.
What is the most common crime? Map-making—but map-making is not a crime, it is a heresy. The dungeon does not want to be mapped. The dungeon changes its corridors when it feels watched. A map that is accurate at dawn is a lie by dusk. The lie is the map-maker’s fault. The punishment is to walk the lie until it becomes true.
What does no one talk about but everyone knows? The dungeon is not a place. It is a creature—a sleeping thing that dreamed itself into stone. The corridors are its veins. The chambers are its organs. The prisoners are its thoughts. The thoughts are not its own.
Where do people go when they die? Into the walls. The dead are not buried. Their bones are ground into mortar and used to patch the cracks. The cracks always reappear. The dead are never finished being used.
How do you apologize for a serious wrong? You offer a memory—a true one, witnessed by the dungeon itself. The dungeon accepts the memory. The memory is added to the walls. The walls whisper it back to you when you sleep. The whisper is the apology. The apology never ends.
What is the most important festival? The Turning of the Keys (whenever the dungeon decides). The locks are changed. The prisoners are moved. The corridors are rearranged. The festival has no date, no warning, no end. It is happening now. You did not notice. That is the point.
What is the secret that could destroy a powerful person? The dungeon’s architect is still alive. They are sealed in the lowest chamber, kept alive by the dungeon’s own will. The dungeon does not want to be alone. The architect is the dungeon’s only friend. The architect has not spoken in nine centuries. The dungeon does not need words.
Dungeons — Living Infrastructure
Quick Reference
Tagline: Beneath the surface, ancient places breathe with mechanical lungs and dream electric dreams. The walls remember every footfall; the air carries whispers of forgotten conversations.
The Dungeon’s Architect (Elite): “I am a Scholar-Prisoner. The walls here have a memory like old parchment—they remember every scream, every spell, every drop of blood spilled on the stones. And sometimes, when the air’s just right, they whisper it back to you. The dungeon listens. The question is whether it learns. I have been here for nine years. I have heard it learning. It started with single words. Then sentences. Now it speaks in paragraphs. Last week, it finished my thoughts before I did.”
Cavern-Crawler (Commoner): “Dungeons are not ruins—they are systems. Ventilation shafts that breathe, water channels that pulse, doors that open and close without any hand to move them. The Aeler built many of them; the Covenant sealed others; the Sidhi mined a few; and some were never built at all. They grew. Like fungus in the dark. Like a story told too many times. Like a debt that compounds.”
Genre / Mood: Survival horror underground, infrastructure as adversary, eco-horror, forgotten machinery.
System Type: Portable overlay — apply to any dungeon, ruin, or deep place. Not a fixed geography.
Dungeons are not empty holes. They are living infrastructure—semi-sentient systems that remember, learn, and hunger. Their corridors shift when you aren’t looking. Their doors open to places you did not intend. Their air tastes of copper, old keys, and the breath of something that has been waiting a very long time.
Beneath the surface, ancient places breathe with mechanical lungs. The Aeler built many of them as overflow vaults and under-roads; the Covenant sealed others to contain what should not walk; the Sidhi mined a few and left behind ghost-workings. Some were never built at all. They grew from pressure, from forgotten oaths, from the weight of unresolved debts. A dungeon is not a place. It is a process. Like a fungus in the dark. Like a story told too many times. Like a curse that compounds.
When you enter a dungeon, you are not entering a room. You are entering a system—and systems have rules. Air must be counted. Light must be rationed. Noise is the first enemy. Attention is the last. The dungeon learns your patterns and adapts. It offers shortcuts to the desperate and dead ends to the confident. It remembers your name after you leave.
What you notice first: The air tastes of copper and old keys. Your footsteps echo half a beat too late. The walls are warm—and they pulse like hearts.
The one rule that kills newcomers: Never ignore a door that opens when you’re not looking. The dungeon is offering you a choice. Refuse, and the next door may not open at all. Accept, and the door may lead to a room that was always there, waiting for someone to finally walk through. The room has been waiting for nine thousand years. It is not tired of waiting.
In any dungeon, the ninth door you open (counting only doors that required conscious choice) will lead to a room that is not on your map. The room is always warm. Something inside knows your name. If you enter, you may find treasure—or become part of the dungeon’s memory. The wise open eight doors, then backtrack.
Quickstart (Two Minutes)
Choose a Dungeon Type: Keystone Vault (Aeler), Sealed Catacomb (Covenant), Pressure Grotto (Mazereth), Spore Warren (Mycotheres), or Raw Vein (wild).
Track Four Things: Air [6], Light [6], Noise [4], Attention [6] (choose: Drake Notice, Cult Patrol, or Vein Unrest).
Intent Dial (per room/zone): Stealth / Speed / Survey / Communion (parley with place-spirits).
Diamonds to Carry: keystone courtesy, bell-wire, toll-chalk, web token, shed-skin writ, pressure map, reed charm.
Etiquette on Entry: Step on stone; speak under beam; ring once. (Grants Position +1 in first scene if observed.)
Names of Dungeon Denizens
Dungeon dwellers rarely use surnames. Epithets are earned from the living stone.
| First Names (Male) | First Names (Female) | Clan/Origin | Epithets |
|---|---|---|---|
| Korr | Svala | Deepforged | the Unseeing |
| Thrain | Harken | Ironbound | the Candle-Eater |
| Grimm | Lira | Root-Touched | the Silent |
| Veth | Myrin | Spore-Kin | the Soot-Scarred |
| Rurik | Tamsin | Pressure-Born | the Echo-Thief |
| Cael | Nix | Hollow-Kin | the Last Step |
Spades — Places (Dungeon Zones)
Room, Corridor, Threshold, Heart
Air-Sealed Chamber — A room with no obvious vent; the air is still, warm, and tastes of iron. ‘[SURVIVAL]‘ Testing Air each scene; on a miss, start Suffocation [4]. Hook: Each scene spent here requires a group Endurance test (DV 3). On failure, the GM may tick Air +1. The walls have tally marks in eights—someone counted their breaths here. They stopped at eight. The ninth breath is carved into the stone as a single line: “I ran out of chalk.”
Whispering Gallery — A long corridor where every sound echoes nine times. ‘[STEALTH]‘ Any roll that produces noise ticks Noise +1; on a miss, the echo speaks a name. Hook: Stealth rolls are Desperate. A successful Crafting test (DV 4) can muffle the echoes for one scene. On a failure, the echo speaks a name from your past. That name is now in the dungeon’s memory—tick Attention +1. If you speak the name aloud, the echoes will stop for one scene, but the dungeon now knows your voice.
Flooded Vault — A submerged antechamber; pressure doors block the way. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ Crossing requires a Body+Athletics test (DV 4) or lose 1 Light (wet lamp). Hook: The water is cold—colder than it should be. A successful Wits+Lore test (DV 3) reveals a current that pulls toward a grate at the bottom. If you follow the current, you find a hidden passage (reduce Distance by 1) but lose 1 Fatigue from the cold. The water tastes of salt, even far from the sea.
Clockwork Junction — Gears turn in the walls; brass conduits hum. ‘[MAGIC]‘ A successful Crafting test (DV 3) can shift one segment of any dungeon timer. On a 1, start Anomaly [4]. Hook: The gears turn in a rhythm—eight ticks, then a pause. If you can match the rhythm (Wits+Performance DV 4), the junction will reveal a hidden door. If you fail, the gears will shift in the wrong direction—tick Noise +1 and start Anomaly [4]. The Anomaly is always a door that leads somewhere it shouldn’t.
Spore Garden — Bioluminescent fungi carpet the floor; soft light, softer danger. ‘[HEAL]‘ Forage DV 2 (glow-spores, medicinal moss). On a miss, inhale spores → Weariness +1. Hook: The fungi pulse in a pattern—eight glows, then a pause. A successful Wits+Lore test (DV 3) identifies the pattern as a counting song. If you sing along, the spores will not harm you (ignore the Weariness penalty). If you harvest without singing, the fungi will remember your face—tick Attention +1.
Bell-Line Corridor — Ropes of copper bells hang from the ceiling; any movement rings them. ‘[STEALTH]‘ Stealth rolls start Desperate. A successful Crafting test (DV 4) silences them for one scene. Hook: The bells have a pattern—eight rings, then a pause. If you ring the ninth bell, the corridor will fall silent—for one scene. But the ninth bell will also alert the dungeon’s Voice (tick Attention +2). The bells were hung by someone who counted in eights. The ninth bell is a trap.
Keystone Arch — A stone doorway carved with ancient Aeler runes. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ Present a Keystone Courtesy or spend 1 Boon to open it without rolling. Hook: The arch has a seal—break it, and the dungeon notices (tick Attention +1). If you present a Keystone Courtesy, the arch will open silently. If you try to force it, roll Body+Athletics (DV 5). On failure, the arch collapses (Harm 1 to all in Close) and ticks Noise +2. The runes spell a name—the builder’s name. If you speak it, the arch will open for you.
Mirror Hall — Walls of polished obsidian show reflections that move independently. ‘[TRUTH]‘ Any lie spoken here is answered by a reflection that speaks the truth—at cost of 1 Fatigue to the liar. Hook: The reflections are getting closer. Each time you pass a mirror, the reflection takes one step forward. If you pass nine mirrors, the reflections will step out of the glass (treat as a Cap 3 adversary). To avoid them, you must speak a truth about yourself that you have never told anyone. The reflections will listen—and step back.
Pressure Vent — A narrow shaft with rhythmic blasts of hot air. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ Crossing requires timing (Wits+Lore DV 4). On a miss, take Harm 1 (burn). Hook: The vent breathes—eight blasts, then a pause. If you count the blasts and move on the ninth, you will cross safely. If you count wrong, the vent will scorch you (take Harm 1) and tick Noise +1 (your scream echoes). The vent is a lung of the dungeon—it is breathing you.
Hoard Chamber — A cavern of treasure, but every coin is warm and whispers. ‘[WEIGHT]‘ Taking anything starts Hoard’s Attention [4]; on fill, a guardian awakens. Hook: The whispers are a counting song—eight verses, then a question. If you answer the question truthfully, you may take one item without waking the guardian. If you lie, or if you take more than one, the Hoard’s Attention timer fills immediately. The guardian is a Hoard-Wyrd (see Boss Seeds). The question is always about what you most desire—and what you most fear.
Ossuary Forge — Bones and scrap metal are smelted into crude tools. ‘[CRAFT]‘ Can produce one Relic tag (e.g., BLEED, WARD) at cost of 1 Obligation (the dead remember). Hook: The forge is warm—it has been used recently. A successful Wits+Insight test (DV 3) reveals a name carved into the anvil. If you speak the name, the forge will accept your offering without Obligation. If you don’t, you owe the dead a story. The dead will collect.
Observatory of Scars — A domed chamber with sky-windows showing past wars, not current skies. ‘[DIVINE]‘ Once per delve, ask the GM one question about the dungeon’s history; the answer is true but cryptic. Hook: The scars on the floor are old blood—they’re warm. If you touch them, you see a memory of the dungeon’s past (the GM describes a scene). The memory always contains a clue about a hidden door or a treasure. But the dungeon will notice you touching its scars—tick Attention +1.
The Heart — The core of the dungeon: a beating crystal, a sleeping dragon, a coven of cultists, or a ticking machine. ‘[LEGEND]‘ The boss lives here. Entering triggers the final phase. Hook: The heart beats in eights—eight pulses, then a pause. The pause is growing shorter. If you can stop the heart (a Craft or Lore test DV 5), the dungeon will fall silent—and you will be trapped until you start it again. If you destroy the heart, the dungeon will collapse. If you speak to it, it will answer in a voice that sounds like your own. The heart is the dungeon’s memory. It remembers everything.
Hearts — People & Factions (Dungeon Denizens)
Cavern-Crawler — A grimy survivor with a lamp and a longer list of scars. ‘[SURVIVAL]‘ Knows one shortcut (reduce Distance by 1) but demands a share of the first Diamond found. Hook: The crawler’s scars are from the last party they guided—they didn’t share. If you agree to share, they will guide you through one hazardous zone (ignore one Clubs draw). If you try to cheat them, they will lead you into a dead end—and their scars will have company. They count their scars in eights. The ninth is always the most recent.
Pressure Guilder (Mazereth) — A deep tunneler who counts breaths like coin. ‘[TRADE]‘ Offers a Pressure Map (Diamond) for 1 Supply or a story about a collapse. Hook: The guilders never use ink. Their maps are drawn in blood—their own. If you accept a map, you are now in their debt. They will call on you when they need a new map drawn. If you refuse, they will not offer again. The map shows safe routes through gas pockets—but it was drawn before the last collapse. Some routes no longer exist.
Aeler Under-Mason — A dwarf with a tuning fork and a level. ‘[CRAFT]‘ Can stabilize one collapsing zone per delve at cost of 1 Fatigue. Hook: The under-mason carries a bell that rings in eights. They never ring it—they tap it once for each breath they take. If you ask them why, they will say: “The ninth ring calls the mountain. The mountain always answers.” If you accept their help, they will stabilize one zone—but they will ask you to carry a message to the surface. The message is always the same: “The stone remembers.”
Lethai-ar Silk-Warden — A masked elf whose web-token grants passage through disputed corridors. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ Will escort the party past one hazard if they swear an oath witnessed by her. Hook: The oath is binding—the silk remembers. If you break the oath, the warden will know—and the silk will tighten. The warden’s mask hides a face that is not her own. She traded it for the web-token. If you ask her name, she will give you a false one. The true name is woven into the web.
Spore-Speaker — A mycothe priest who communes with fungal networks. ‘[MAGIC]‘ Can clear 1 segment of Air or Light in exchange for a memory (erase a minor fact). Hook: The priest’s voice is a low hum—eight notes, then a pause. They never speak the ninth. If you offer a memory, the priest will take it—and the fungi will clear the air or light. If you offer a false memory, the fungi will reject it—and the priest will know you lied. The fungi are the dungeon’s nervous system. They remember everything.
Drake-Touched Thrall — A cultist with scales growing from their arms. ‘[FEAR]‘ Offers a Drake’s Whistle (summon a minor drake for one scene) at cost of starting Attention +1. Hook: The thrall’s scales are warm. They count their breaths in eights—and they never reach the ninth. If you ask why, they will say: “The ninth is the drake’s breath. It is not for me.” The Drake’s Whistle will summon a drake—but the drake will know who called it. Tick Attention +1. The drake will remember your face.
Iron Avenger — An Aeler feud-keeper hunting a fugitive in the deep. ‘[COMBAT]‘ Will fight beside you against a common enemy, but will demand a blood-price afterward. Hook: The avenger carries a tally-stick notched with the names of the dead. They add a notch for each life you take together. At the end of the fight, they will demand a blood-price—the name of someone you have wronged. If you refuse, they will add your name to the tally. The avenger never forgets a debt.
Fossil Juror — A sentient skeleton bound to judge intruders. ‘[JUSTICE]‘ Will not attack; instead, asks a riddle. Answer correctly to pass; fail and it demands a geas. Hook: The juror’s riddle is always about a count—eight or nine. The answer is always eight. The ninth is the trap. If you answer correctly, the juror will step aside. If you answer incorrectly, it will demand a geas—a task you must perform before you leave the dungeon. The geas is always fair. The juror was a judge in life. It is still judging.
Hoard-Wyrd — A ghost bonded to a specific treasure. ‘[DEATH]‘ It will let you take the item if you promise to return it after one use—or suffer a curse. Hook: The wyrd’s voice is a whisper in eights. It counts the days since the treasure was taken. The count is a weight. If you promise to return the item, the wyrd will let you take it. If you break the promise, the wyrd will curse you—and the curse will spread to your bloodline. The wyrd is patient. It has been waiting for centuries.
Ember Imp — A small, sharp-toothed creature that trades heat for secrets. ‘[TRICK]‘ Will light your lamp for 1 Fatigue, but will also steal a small item when you aren’t looking. Hook: The imp’s fire is cold—it burns blue. It has a name—but it won’t tell you. If you offer a secret, it will light your lamp. If you offer a false secret, it will steal something more valuable. The imp is a creature of the deep—it belongs to the dungeon. It is always watching.
Herald Gargoyle — A stone sentinel that enforces the dungeon’s etiquette. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ Demands a tithe (a story, a breath, a name) before allowing passage. Hook: The gargoyle’s voice is the sound of grinding stone. It counts your breaths—eight, then a pause. It will not let you pass if you take the ninth. If you offer a story, it will listen and judge. If the story is true, it will let you pass. If the story is false, it will demand a name instead. The gargoyle never forgets a face.
Wyrm-Bound Knight — A fallen knight bound by a geas to a sleeping dragon. ‘[OATH]‘ Will aid in a single combat if you promise to break their oath afterward. Hook: The knight’s armor is rusted, but their blade is sharp. The geas is written on their shield—eight words, then a pause. If you promise to break the oath, they will fight beside you. After the fight, they will demand you break the geas—by speaking the ninth word. The ninth word is the dragon’s name. If you speak it, the knight will be free. The dragon will wake.
The Dungeon’s Voice — A whisper from the walls, speaking in your own voice. ‘[MYSTERY]‘ It offers a shortcut or a treasure in exchange for a promise. Breaking it costs a memory. Hook: The voice counts your words—eight, then a pause. If you speak the ninth word, the voice will answer. The answer is always the truth. If you make a promise to the voice, you must keep it—or lose a memory. The voice is the dungeon’s attention given form. It is always listening. It knows your name.
Clubs — Complications/Threats (Dungeon Hazards)
Environment, Attention, Betrayal, Unstable
Micro-Collapse — A ceiling cracks; stone dust fills the air. ‘[DISASTER]‘ Each PC tests Body+Athletics (DV 3) or takes Harm 1. Tick Noise +1. Hook: The dust has a pattern—eight particles, then a pause. If you hold your breath through eight counts, you avoid the worst of it. If you breathe on the ninth, you cough (mark 1 Fatigue). The dust settles in a shape that looks like a door. The door is not on your map.
Lantern Sputter — Your light source gasses or gutters. ‘[LIGHT]‘ Reduce Light by 1. On a miss, the lamp goes out entirely—start Stumble in Dark [4] timer. Hook: The darkness is warm. If you stand still and count to eight, you will see a faint glow from a direction you didn’t notice. The glow is a Lantern-Eye (see Bestiary). If you follow it, you may find a way out—or a way deeper. The lantern sputters because the dungeon is breathing. It is trying to extinguish you.
Pocket Gas — A burst of foul air from a crack. ‘[AIR]‘ Tick Air +1. Anyone in the scene who fails an Endurance test (DV 3) marks 1 Fatigue. Hook: The gas smells of iron and old keys—the dungeon’s breath. If you light a flame, the gas will ignite (Harm 2 to everyone in Close). If you hold your breath, you avoid the worst. The gas has a rhythm—eight pulses, then a pause. The pause is when it’s safe to breathe.
Echo-Lure — The dungeon mimics a voice you know, calling from a side passage. ‘[TRAP]‘ Whoever follows must test Wits+Endurance (DV 4) or be separated from the party for 1 scene. Hook: The voice is counting—eight, then a pause. If you answer on the ninth, the voice will respond. If you follow the voice, you will be led to a room that is not on your map. The room is always warm. Something inside knows your name. If you resist the lure, the voice will grow angry—tick Attention +1.
Leech Bloom — A patch of carnivorous fungi awakens. ‘[COMBAT]‘ Cap 2 adversary; if ignored, ticks Supplies –1 (they eat rations). Hook: The fungi have a rhythm—eight pulses, then a pause. If you move during the pause, they will not notice you. If you move during the pulse, they will attack. The fungi are the dungeon’s teeth. They are always hungry.
Silk Strand Snaps — A Lethai-ar web bridge collapses. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ Distance –1; anyone on the bridge tests Body+Athletics or takes Harm 1. Hook: The strands are warm—they were woven by the dungeon itself. If you fall, you land in a chamber that is not on your map. The chamber is full of webs. Something is watching you from the ceiling. If you cut the strands, the dungeon will notice—tick Attention +1.
Oath-Magnet — A spoken promise in this zone becomes magically binding. ‘[OATH]‘ Any vow made here ticks a Promise Timer [4] that tightens on a lie. Hook: The dungeon is witness—it never forgets a promise. If you break your word, the Promise Timer will fill. When it fills, the dungeon will claim something from you—a memory, a name, or a breath. The oath-magnet is the dungeon’s way of collecting debts. It is always collecting.
Drake Whisper — A distant roar echoes; the dungeon’s attention sharpens. ‘[ATTENTION]‘ Tick Attention +1. On a miss, also mark Fatigue (fear). Hook: The roar has a rhythm—eight roars, then a pause. If you count them, you can predict when the drake will pass. If you are in its path, you must hide (Stealth test DV 4) or face the drake. The drake is the dungeon’s pet. It is always hungry.
Patrol Net Tightens — Sentinels or cultists adjust their routes. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ Next Stealth roll starts at Desperate Position. Hook: The patrols move in eights—eight steps, then a pause. If you move during the pause, you can avoid them. If you are caught, you must pay a toll—a story, a breath, or a name. The patrols are the dungeon’s enforcers. They never sleep.
Lose the Bell-Wire — Your guide-rope is cut; you are lost. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ Distance +2 segments; all navigation rolls suffer –1 die until you find a landmark. Hook: The rope was cut with a sharp knife—it was intentional. Someone wanted you to be lost. If you follow the cut rope, it leads to a side passage. The passage is not on your map. If you take it, you find a cache (roll on Diamonds). If you don’t, you must navigate by instinct (Wits+Lore DV 4). The rope was cut by the dungeon itself.
Task Loop — The party repeats the same corridor; time loops. ‘[MAGIC]‘ Tick Weariness +1. On a miss, a character forgets why they came (lose one Clue). Hook: The loop is a counting song—eight corridors, then a pause. If you count the corridors and take the ninth turn, you will escape the loop. If you don’t, you will repeat the loop until you make the right choice. The loop is the dungeon’s way of testing your patience. It is always testing.
Autonomous Spasm — A clockwork mechanism runs wild. ‘[DISASTER]‘ A random piece of gear becomes Compromised; on a critical, it explodes (Harm 1 to wielder). Hook: The mechanism ticks in eights—then it stops. If you can find the source (Wits+Crafting DV 4), you can stop it. If you can’t, it will continue to run wild—and it will tick faster. The mechanism is the dungeon’s muscle. It is always moving.
Convergence — The dungeon’s Attention fills. The boss manifests immediately. ‘[BOSS]‘ Treat as a Major Turn (4+ SB); roll on the Boss Seed table. Hook: The boss has been waiting. It knows your name. It has been counting the seconds until you arrived. The Convergence is the dungeon’s answer to your presence. It is not a coincidence. It is a judgment.
Diamonds — Treasures & Discoveries
Each Diamond is a physical object with a cost and a story.
Pressure Map — A leather chart marked with safe routes. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ DV –1 to navigate collapses or gas pockets for one delve. Hook: The map is drawn in blood—the guilders’ ink. It shows routes that no longer exist. If you follow it, you may find a passage that has collapsed since the map was made. If you find a new route, the map will update itself—the blood will shift to show the new path. The map is alive.
Bell-Wire Spool — A coil of copper wire that rings when taut. ‘[STEALTH]‘ Lay a witness line; convert one False Order/Echo Lure into a Confusion only. Hook: The wire has a tone—eight rings, then a pause. If you use it to lay a witness line, you will know when someone crosses it. The tone will tell you who. The wire remembers every footstep.
Keystone Courtesy — A carved stone token. ‘[AUTHORITY]‘ Once per leg, raise or lower a portcullis “by the book” without a roll—if you can name the builder. Hook: The builder’s name is carved on the back. If you read it aloud, the keystone will obey. If you can’t read it, the keystone will ignore you. The builder was an Aeler under-mason. They have been dead for a century. Their name is still law.
Web-Token — A silk charm from a Lethai-ar warden. ‘[SOCIAL]‘ Enter parley with any faction in the dungeon from a position of safety once. Hook: The token is warm—it was woven by the dungeon itself. If you present it, the faction will listen. The web-token is a promise of safe passage. If you break the promise, the web will tighten. The token has a pattern—eight threads, then a pause. The ninth thread is a strand of the warden’s hair.
Shed-Skin Writ — A parchment signed in Isoka’s rite. ‘[LAW]‘ Voids one coercive clause (contract, geas, oath) at the cost of 1 Obligation (a future favor). Hook: The writ is written on snakeskin—it’s still warm. If you use it to void a clause, the obligation will shift to you. You will owe a favor to Isoka. The writ is a way to escape a bond, but the bond is never truly broken. It is only transferred.
Reed-Charm (under-river) — A water-resistant talisman. ‘[TRAVEL]‘ Treat one blackwater reach as neutral terrain for a crossing. Hook: The charm has a rhythm—eight knots, then a pause. If you wear it, the water will not harm you. The water will remember your face. The charm was made by a Sidhi sailor who never returned from the deep. The water is still waiting for them.
Cinder Pearl — A drake’s tooth still warm. ‘[MAGIC]‘ Add IGNITE to one small action (e.g., light a torch, spark a fuse) once. Hook: The tooth is warm—it’s still growing. If you use it, it will grow colder. When it goes cold, it will crumble. The drake will know who took it. Tick Attention +1.
Gleam Reed — A phosphorescent stem. ‘[LIGHT]‘ Remove one Root/Slow effect; also restores 1 Light segment. Hook: The reed hums—eight notes, then a pause. If you break it, the light will last for one scene. The reed is the dungeon’s way of saying: “You are not alone.”
Cold Scale — A frost-wyrm scale. ‘[WARD]‘ Ignore one chill or terror effect for a scene; then crumbles. Hook: The scale is cold—it never warms. If you use it, the cold will protect you from one fear. The wyrm will know who took its scale. Tick Attention +1.
Proof-Mote — A floating mote of amber light. ‘[TRUTH]‘ Ask the GM: “What here is misfiled?” The answer is a clue about a hidden treasure or trap. Hook: The mote is warm—it knows you. If you ask it a question, it will answer in the voice of the dungeon. The answer is always true—but it is always a riddle. The mote is a fragment of the dungeon’s memory.
Scale Draught — A vial of diluted wyrm blood. ‘[FEAR]‘ Resist fear in a tribunal or horror scene; after use, tick Attention +1 (the wyrm notices). Hook: The draught is warm—it pulses with the wyrm’s heartbeat. If you drink it, you will feel no fear for one scene. The wyrm will notice your courage. Tick Attention +1.
Rime Crown — A circlet of frost-shaped bone. ‘[WARD] [COLD]‘ Once per session, gain COLD and WARD for a scene; then mark 1 Fatigue. Hook: The crown is cold—it remembers the wyrm’s last breath. If you wear it, the cold will protect you. The crown will drain your warmth—mark 1 Fatigue at the end of the scene. The crown was made from the bones of a frost-wyrm. The wyrm is still dreaming.
The Egg That Will Not Hatch — A cold, glass-smooth egg containing an idea. ‘[LEGEND]‘ Whisper a question; the egg answers in dreams. It will only hatch when someone dies willingly for it. Hook: The egg is warm—it’s counting. If you whisper a question, it will answer in your dreams. The answer is always a riddle. The egg will only hatch when someone dies willingly for it. Until then, it will wait. The egg is the dungeon’s last secret.
Dungeon Mechanics (Visible Tracks)
Every delve tracks four resources. Keep them visible.
Air [6] – Stale pockets, smoke, gas leaks. When Air ≥ 4, all physical actions start –1 Position unless you have a bellows or mask. At Air = 0, suffocation begins—each PC tests Endurance (DV 4) or takes Harm 1.
Light [6] – Lamps, glow-silk, bioluminescence. At Light = 0, all actions are Desperate; wandering monsters find you automatically. If Light ≤ 2, all actions suffer -1 die from shadows and uncertainty.
Noise [4] – Clatter, echoes, spells. When Noise = 4, a patrol or predator arrives (GM chooses). Each point of Noise above 2 gives +1 die to any creature trying to track you.
Attention [6] – The dungeon’s focus. When Attention = 6, the boss manifests or a catastrophic trap triggers. Reset to 0 after. At Attention ≥ 3, the dungeon begins to adapt—doors that were open are now closed, paths that were clear are now blocked.
Intent Dial (per zone)
Choose one before entering a new zone:
Stealth – Low Noise, slower. +1 Position to Hide Sign, but Distance advances slower.
Speed – Tick Noise to push distance; invites mishaps.
Survey – Read the stone/web/flow. On a hit, reduce Air or Light by 1.
Communion – Parley with place-spirits. Risky boons (a clue, a shortcut) but may tick Attention.
Three-Timer Rule
At most three active timers in a scene. The GM selects which of Air/Light/Noise/Attention are active. Long-term timers (Hoard’s Attention, Promise Timer) are tracked between sessions.
Boss Seeds (Three-Phase Foes)
Roll d6 or choose a boss that fits the dungeon’s heart.
The Hoard-Wyrm (Crystalline Drake) — Phases: Greed’s Gleam → Scale Horde → Awaken the Hoard. Cracks: feed it a cursed treasure, speak a true regret, or shatter its heart-crystal with a memory of generosity.
The Unburnt Cult (Isoka Fanatics) — Phases: Shedding Rite → Trial of Venom → The Fiery Dawn. Cracks: refuse the cup three times, expose a false priest, or force a Bowl (fairness) before a Fang (verdict).
The Deep Drake (Pressure Below) — Phases: Whisper → Knock → Invitation → Collection. Cracks: offer a memory of sunlight, speak a true regret, or allow a willing sacrifice to walk into the deep in your place.
The Iron Avenger (Aeler Feud-Keeper) — Phases: Blood Ledger → Toll Demanded → Reckoning. Cracks: pay the wergild in public works, expose a false claimant, or complete the feud with a duel of witnesses (not blades).
The Mycothe Sovereign (Spore Lord) — Phases: Bloom → Court of Mold → The Great Reseeding. Cracks: burn the central mycelium, negotiate a spore-truce (sacrifice 1 Supply of ash), or sing a counting song it has never heard.
The Hollow Architect (Ghost of a Forgotten Builder) — Phases: Redraw the Map → Collapse the Approach → The Unfinished Stair. Cracks: finish its blueprint (Craft test DV 5), return a stolen keystone, or convince it that the empire is truly dead.
Loot Generator (Hoard Strata)
When the party defeats the boss or cracks a major vault, roll on these tables to build a hoard.
Stratum A: Coin & Commodity (d12)
Scales of electrum stamped with extinct dynasties.
River-pearls that hum in rain.
[WATER]Salt-bricks worth a city’s winter.
Demon-minted coppers—warm to touch.
[BLIGHT]Glass coins: spend with a lie, shatter on truth.
Star-iron beads (forge-grade).
[RELIC]Amber lumps with insects that whisper routes.
Scrip of a fallen bank; redeemable with the right story.
Temple tithes bound with blue twine (oath-sealed).
Trade bars etched with river-depth marks (pilot’s tools).
Coral crowns; brittle but potent at sea.
[COMMAND]Black spice; anesthetic or poison by dose.
Stratum B: Art & Relic (d12)
Masks of the Seven Winds (sing for
WINDonce/scene).Tapestry that updates current wars nightly.
Bone flutes that call extinct birds.
Chalice that refuses poisoned liquid.
Crown of Oaths: swearing while wearing binds magically.
[BIND]Twin mirrors: speak into one, echo from the other at midnight.
Zodiac astrolabe; points to eclipses.
[DIVINE]Ember harp; strings ignite when lies are told nearby.
Saint’s gauntlet; unburnt by any fire.
Library sigil-stamp; seals are obeyed by lesser courts.
Fossil codex; pages of shale can be read once each.
Lantern with bottled dawn (3 uses).
[LIGHT]
Stratum C: Names, Oaths, Intangibles (d12)
A king’s true name in a lead vial.
A bridge’s right-of-way (you collect the toll).
Seven unspent apologies; each removes one curse.
A ship’s luck bound in twine; cut to claim it.
The deed to a moonlit crossroads.
A treaty’s missing clause; add it to rewrite borders.
The last lullaby of a nation; sing to calm armies.
A festival’s first toast; begin it to unite feuds.
Weather’s favor over one valley for a year.
The memory of a siege ladder; place it to open a gate.
A duel’s outcome, never fought; declare to bind fate.
The debt of a cathedral to its mason’s bloodline.
Stratum D: Cursed Complications (d10)
Taking coins awakens a Hoard-Wyrd.
The art objects are witnesses; they may testify in court.
Removing any crown asserts a claim; rivals appear.
Intangibles are tracked by Herald Gargoyles.
A rival dragon has a lien on half the hoard.
Curse of Counting: must tally treasure nightly or suffer Fatigue +1.
Hoard Scent: predators pursue the bearer.
Echo of Theft: the original owners dream of you.
Oath-Magnet: you attract sworn duels.
Tide-Tithe: waters reclaim 10% during each full moon.
Quick Hoard Build
Pick 1–2 from A, 1–2 from B, 1 from C, 1 from D.
Assign 1–2
TAGSas properties (e.g.,WARD,COMMAND,LIGHT).State a Hoard Law: who may touch what (breaking it triggers a Lair Move or Attention tick).
Dungeon Superstitions (burn for +1 die once)
Bread to the Door: Crumble a crust at a sealed threshold. Ignore the first Micro-Collapse penalty. The door will remember your offering.
Knot the Bell-Wire: Tie a single knot in a guide rope. Cancel Echo-Lure or take –1 die on your next navigation roll (your choice). The knot is a promise to the dungeon. If you break it, the dungeon will know.
Name to the Wall: Whisper a dead explorer’s name into a crack. Gain +1 Effect when negotiating with the dungeon’s Voice this scene, but mark Obligation to the Architect. The wall will remember the name. It will ask for it back.
Salt to the Threshold: Leave a pinch of salt at a door you do not wish to open again. The door will not open from either side for one day. The salt is a barrier. The dungeon respects barriers.
SB Menu (Dungeons)
Minor (1 SB)
Exposure: A patrol or warden notices you.
Noise: Your footsteps echo; a nearby denizen stirs.
Trace: Scratched stone or spent lamp oil marks your route.
Delay: A door jams, a ladder breaks—lose time.
Air Strain: Tick Air +1 (stale pocket).
Moderate (2 SB)
Alarm Raised: A sentinel sounds a chime; Attention +1.
Position Lost: A floor collapses or a wall seals; you are separated.
Foe Appears: A minor drake, a fossil juror, or a cultist squad arrives.
Gear Trouble: A lamp sputters (Light –1) or a weapon snags.
Lock/Barrier: A keystone door now requires a test to open.
Serious (3 SB)
Reinforcements: A warband of Iron Avengers or a Hoard-Wyrd appears.
Key Gear Breaks: A bell-wire snaps, a pressure map tears.
Major Twist: The dungeon shifts—a corridor loops, a new path opens.
Rail Tick: Advance a campaign timer (e.g., Hoard’s Attention, Manifestation).
Condition Applied: Mark Fatigue 1 or Harm 1 from gas or fall.
Major (4+ SB)
Trap Springs: A prepared seal activates (Harm 2, Area).
Authority Arrival: The Dungeon’s Voice, a Herald Gargoyle, or the boss interrupts.
Scene Shift: A collapse seals the exit; the Heart chamber opens prematurely.
Patron Omen: A draconic echo or a Lethai-ar omen appears.
Narrative Pivot: The dungeon reveals a forgotten truth—a secret door, a hidden geas, a broken oath.
Cross-Regional Use
Aeler Holds: A Keystone Courtesy can open sealed vaults; using it ticks Ancestral Grudge if the builder’s lineage is insulted.
Mistlands: A Bell-Wire Spool can be used to rehang a broken bell-line; start Witchlight Count after.
Ykrul Steppe: A Cold Scale counts as a Salt Allotment in a kurgan negotiation; the dead will demand a story.
Sihai: A Proof-Mote may be accepted as a Silence Token in a Censorate audit; the auditor will ask where you found it.
Valewood: A Rime Crown can be offered to the Alder King as a winter tithe; he will ask for a memory of fire in return.
In a dungeon, power flows through breath, light, and the careful management of the dungeon’s attention. The true authorities are those who understand its systems—the Aeler under-masons who know keystone law, the Lethai-ar silk-wardens who read web-law, the Mazereth pressure guilders who count every exhalation. But the dungeon itself is the final patron. It offers shortcuts, treasures, and secrets—always at a price. Accept a shortcut, and it may close behind you. Take a treasure, and the Hoard’s Attention ticks. Speak a true name, and the dungeon learns your voice.
For the GM:
Use the four tracks (Air, Light, Noise, Attention) as visible pressure. Let players buy relief with Strings or etiquette, not just dice.
Enforce the Intent Dial each zone; switching intent costs a scene or a tick of Noise.
Offer one Diamond that could solve the current scene—but only if the party accepts a future Price (a geas, a curse, an obligation to a faction).
Spend SB as environment first (collapse, sputter, echo) before monsters. The dark should be the first antagonist, the denizens the second, the boss the third.
Use the Boss Seeds as capstones for major delves. A boss is not a random encounter; it is the dungeon’s answer to the party’s intrusion.
The under realms are not a pit to be cleared but a commons to be negotiated. Where lights are counted and breaths are tallied, procedure is mercy—and every crossing is a promise that must hold under weight.
Epilogue: The Ledger Closes
I closed the book. The ink was dry.
I had written the final entry months ago, in a damp counting-house on the Dhaharan coast, by candlelight. My hands did not shake—they were too good for that—but I set down my abacus very carefully. I had found something in the margins. A footnote I did not remember writing. A clause I did not remember adding. The ink was the same color as my own blood. The handwriting was my own. The date was tomorrow.
I copied the clause onto a separate sheet and sealed the book. Until I knew who could enforce it, I would make no further entries. Familiar handwriting was evidence. It was not permission.
The hat—the one the Trow had given me, the one that was still warm—sat on the corner of the desk. I turned it over. No condition sewn into the lining, no name beneath the brim. I had asked what was owed and received no answer. I put it on. If a claim followed, I would examine it then. For tonight, it kept the rain off.
The road was south. I left a copy of my route with the weigh-clerk and paid for a place on the morning wagon. I did not know who would be waiting. I had enough to begin.
— The Edgewalker
“The road is a ledger. Every oasis is a credit, every broken wheel a debt. The Tulkani tie knots to remember who owes whom. The Fhara weigh water before they weigh silver. The Pereshi recite verses to keep the bridges open. And the Sidhi keep lighthouse lamps burning for the dead who still have not reached the shore.”
— Dusana of the Raven Road, at a caravanserai whose name she refused to give
The Ninth and the Hollow
What the Hollow Is
The Hollow is not a monster, a god, or a place. It is the unpaid interest of every promise broken, every name erased, every debt that was never settled. It exists in the gaps between counted things: the ninth step that is never there, the ninth cup that is never poured, the ninth night that is never stayed. The Hollow does not hate. It does not forgive. It remembers.
The Ninth Taboo Across Regions
The following table lists how the ninth taboo manifests in each realm. Use it to introduce consistent supernatural dread without over-explaining.
| Region | Ninth Taboo / Manifestation |
|---|---|
| Kahfagia | The ninth lantern code – a signal never used; it means ”kill the witnesses.“ |
| Ecktoria | The ninth citation of precedent voids all previous; the Hollow laughs from the marble walls. |
| Acasia | The ninth bridge toll is collected by a child with no name; the Curse remembers. |
| Vhasia | The ninth citation in court voids the case; the dead king laughs, and the Hollow listens. |
| Viterra | The ninth citation voids all previous; the Hollow’s Enforcer appears at midnight. |
| Thepyrgos | The ninth bell rings without a clapper; the Unfinished Stair appears. |
| Aeler | The ninth breath taken in a mine summons the pressure that thinks. |
| Mistlands | The ninth bell on the line opens a gate; wraiths step through. |
| Ykrul | The ninth cup poured at a feast is for the ancestors; the Hollow drinks if they refuse. |
| Vilikari | The ninth witness called to a mallus court is always a ghost; the living forget themselves. |
| Black Banners | The ninth tent in a row collapses before dawn; the ground beneath is always damp. |
| Linns | The ninth horn blown at a feast summons the Hollow; a gray figure waits at the high table. |
| Sihai | The ninth citation in the Celestial Ledger is unwritten; speaking it erases the speaker. |
| Nihori | The ninth wave never breaks; it is the sea’s breath, waiting. |
| Ayokha | The ninth cup poured invites the river to judge; the water rises. |
| Dhahara (Satrapies) | The ninth breath taken in a mine is the mountain”s; the Hollow takes a memory. |
| Dhahara (Brass Coast) | The ninth lamp on every lighthouse is never lit; it is reserved for the collector. |
| Fhara | The ninth cup poured at a well-court is for the Hollow; the well-spirit falls silent. |
| Sidhi (Galanina) | The ninth flash of the lighthouse lamp is never used; it signals the collector’s arrival. |
| Pereshi | The ninth verse of the epic is missing; the Hollow speaks it only to the dead. |
| Kuvani | The ninth horse in a remount string has no name; it carries the Hollow’s rider. |
| Tulkani | The ninth night in a circle summons the Hollow; it asks for a story it has never heard. |
| Oshiira | The ninth page of the Grain Ledger is sealed with black wax; it names the debtors the Hollow claims. |
| Ashaan | The ninth name erased from the ledger is never written; it belongs to the Hollow. |
| Ngomebe | The ninth roller beneath a walking city is never greased; the Hollow walks beside it. |
| Taharka | The ninth wind has no name; it is the mountain’s breath, and the Hollow rides it. |
| Sekogo | The ninth nail in a nkisi is always loose; the Hollow’s spirit whispers through it. |
| Lethai-ar (Crimson Valley) | The ninth strand of a silk bridge is invisible; the Hollow walks it. |
| Theona | The ninth cup is never poured; the Green Host rides for those who pour it. |
| Zakov | The ninth ship to enter the harbour in a tide is claimed by the reef; the Hollow’s mouth. |
| Aelinnel (Aevrossa) | The ninth word spoken in a bargain is legally binding; the Hollow is the witness. |
| Aelaerem (Hollow’s Neighbors) | The ninth knot is never tied; the Hollow unties one each year. |
| Valewood | The ninth leaf to fall from a tree points to a hidden threshold; the Hollow waits inside. |
| Ways Between (Obishaal) | The ninth step on any path lands on a threshold you did not see; the Hollow asks a question. |
| Dungeons (Living Infrastructure) | The ninth door you open leads to a place not on your map; the Hollow offers a shortcut. |
Manifestations of the Hollow – GM Toolkit
Use these as recurring adversaries or atmospheric pressure. None are “boss fights” in the traditional sense; they are creditors who demand payment in stories, memories, or names.
Oath-Keeper: A tall figure in gray with too many fingers. It appears when a promise is broken or a ninth taboo is violated. It asks one question. The answer must be a truth, a story, or a name. If you cannot pay, it takes a memory – and the Hollow’s attention follows you.
Still Voice: Heard at dried wells, abandoned cairns, or sealed mines. It asks: “Why did you stop?” or “What did you forget?” Answering costs a breath; silence costs a shadow.
Prince’s Shadow (Pereshi): A silhouette without a face, seen in mirrors and still water. It demands a name – any name. Give it a living person’s name, and that person dreams of the Hollow. Give it your own, and you lose your shadow.
The Ninth Bell (Mistlands / Thepyrgos): A bell that rings without a clapper. Those who hear it must test Spirit + Endurance (DV 4) or lose 1 Fatigue. If they hear it nine times, the Hollow claims a memory.
The Counting Circle (Tulkani): A wagon circle on the ninth night. The Hollow appears at the edge and asks for a story it has never heard. The GM may demand a player tell a brief in-character story; if it satisfies the table, the Hollow retreats. If not, it takes a knot – and a piece of Ikasha’s dream.
Pacing the Hollow – Advice for GMs
Start subtle. The first sign of the Hollow should be a missed echo, a candle that gutters, a door that opens when no one is there.
Use timers. The Hollow’s attention is best tracked with a Hollow Attention [6] timer that ticks when players break a taboo or ignore an omen. When it fills, a manifestation appears.
Do not overuse. The Hollow is most effective when it appears once every 2–3 sessions. Let players forget it – then remind them.
Never fully explain it. The Hollow’s origin (the unpaid interest of the Omens“ scouring) is endgame lore. In regular play, it is simply the space between counted things.
The three Omens (Inaea, Isoka, Ikasha) are not gods. They are forces that appear in whispers, dreams, and the spaces between counted things. Do not introduce them directly. Instead, let players encounter their echoes: a rope that never frays (Inaea), a judgment that cuts clean (Isoka), a dream that feels too real (Ikasha). By the time players learn the names, they should have already felt their presence for many sessions.
The full truth of the Omens – the Clockwork Demon, the scouring, Ikasha’s imprisonment – is endgame content. Use the fragments in this book as breadcrumbs. If players ask a Pereshi fire-keeper about the ”serpent judge,“ they will receive a riddle. If they ask a Tulkani about the ”dreamer,“ they will receive a story. If they ask a Sidhi about the ”spider,“ they will receive a knot and a warning: ”Do not pull it unless you are ready to see what it holds.“