The Pactlands

Basic premise: The world is an ocean-forward, island-dense planet where reality is periodically rewritten by a phenomenon called the Myth Tide—a surge that makes all mythologies across all diasporas temporarily true at the same time. This year, the Tide never recedes, so the world is stuck in a permanent state of myth-overlap, contradiction, and rapid transformation. Magic level: High magic, but rule-bound Magic is everywhere because stories are everywhere, but it isn’t “free.” Only people/places touched by the Tide can consistently use supernatural power. Power comes through Saga Arts: abilities fueled by Creeds (rules you must follow) and Prices (real costs or taboos). The stricter the rule, the stronger the effect. Reality “rewards” myth-consistent behavior and punishes narrative hypocrisy (your legend matters). Technology level: Late Age-of-Sail + early industrial pockets Think pirate era baseline with selective advancements where trade hubs thrive: Ships, cannons, black powder, printing presses, basic medicine, early factories in major ports. Navigation is half science, half superstition: compasses lie during Tide surges, maps rot, coastlines move. The truly advanced “tech” is myth-tech: engines powered by vows, charms, names, and relic-craft rather than electricity. Unique elements that set it apart Myth Tide Zones (Reality Weather): Regions where different myth traditions “win the signal” and rewrite physics/social rules. One island might enforce hospitality oaths; another might make spoken lies physically heavy. Epithets (Titles that change you): Tide-touched people awaken with an Epithet (“The Unbroken,” “River-Bride,” “Knife-Whisper”), and the world starts treating them like that story is inevitable. Fighting your Epithet weakens you; embodying it makes you terrifying. Names are currency: True names, ancestor-names, spirit-names, and secret titles function like leverage. Knowing the right name can open doors, bind a monster, or collapse a blessing. The Sea is sentient-ish (or acts like it): The ocean behaves like it has preferences—currents guide crews toward “important” events, storms arrive when a story needs stakes, calm water follows vows kept. Constant faction pressure (adventure engine): Authorities, hunters, cults, spirit courts, and pirate ideologies all respond to Tidebound crews—so every arc becomes a choice between freedom, responsibility, profit, and survival.

The Meridian Spine A broken “equator” of floating reefs, wreckfields, and moving islands that acts like a shifting highway across the world. Most trade routes try to follow it; most ships die doing so. The Five Great Currents Ocean-rivers with personalities. They don’t just move water — they move stories. Gold Current: fortune, scams, sudden fame Red Current: war, honor, blood debts Indigo Current: dreams, prophecy, madness Green Current: beasts, growth, hunger White Current: ghosts, endings, afterlife bleed-through The Stormwall Ring A permanent cyclone belt that used to “end” the Myth Tide each cycle. Now it’s a roaring halo of weather and omens. Crossing it is a rite of passage. The Chorus Trench A deep-sea scar where voices echo up from below. Sailors claim it remembers every name ever spoken at sea. Some crews go there to bargain with the dead. The Mirror Expanse A calm, reflective sea where navigation fails because every direction looks like destiny. Islands appear only when you commit to a choice. The Null Horizon Not a place you can point to on a map. More like a missing coordinate. Ships vanish here and return with different flags, different memories, or an extra crewmate no one recalls hiring. Major powers and nations 1) The Meridian Office (Nation-state + Navy + Bureaucracy) Capital: Ledgerport They claim the world can be stabilized through charts, quarantine zones, and licensing magic. They issue Tide-bounties and “safety decrees” that conveniently expand their control. Signature feature: Quarantine Chains — floating fortresses that lock down myth-zones. 2) The Freewake Confederacy (Pirate haven coalition) Capital: Cindersmile Bay Not one kingdom — a network of independent ports that believe the Tide is freedom. They don’t care which god is “right.” They care if your crew can hold your ground. Signature feature: The Banner Law — flags are contracts; break a banner oath and the sea itself may punish you. 3) The Crown of Salt (Old empire, crumbling but dangerous) Capital: Throneharbor A former global empire that ruled before the Tide got stuck. Their royal line claims a “divine mandate” and they’re trying to reclaim it by force… and by marrying into spirit-courts. Signature feature: Salt-Tithes — taxes paid in preserved memory, relics, and names. 4) The Hunter Registry (Transnational guild) Headquarters: Trialspire (an island-tower that relocates yearly) They don’t govern land; they govern permission. Want legal access to cursed zones, monster hunts, or Tidebound bounty contracts? Get licensed — if you survive the exams. Signature feature: Marks of Passage — magical certifications that grant rights (and tracking). 5) The Ancestral Courts (Spirit sovereignties) Seats: many, shifting by region and diaspora These aren’t “one pantheon.” They’re layered courts of ancestors, spirits, and divine lineages that negotiate territory when the Tide overlaps traditions. They can bless cities into prosperity or curse them into silence. Signature feature: Hospitality Law — in some regions, breaking welcome rites is a capital offense… spiritually. 6) The Choir of Masks (Trickster coalition) No capital (by design) They’re smugglers of identity, liberators of taboo, and architects of “helpful chaos.” They want the world to stop pretending it’s tidy. Signature feature: Mask Markets — temporary bazaars where you can trade your reputation, your face, or your fate for a night. 7) The Drowned Crown (Warlord myth-king) Moving capital: The Crown-Barge Armada A militant fleet that conquers islands during Tide surges and “crowns” new myth-lords. They’re building a myth-empire one forced legend at a time. Signature feature: Coronation Raids — battles staged as rituals; if you lose, reality starts calling you “defeated.” Major cities and ports (high-utility campaign hubs) Ledgerport (Meridian Office capital) A fortress-city of docks, courts, and map-halls. Every ship is inspected; every rumor is recorded. Cindersmile Bay (Freewake heart) Built into a volcanic crescent. Loud, lawless, beloved. The taverns have rules; the streets don’t. Throneharbor (Crown of Salt capital) Gilded seawalls, ancestral cathedrals, and old money. Beautiful place to get hunted politely. Trialspire Anchorage (Hunter Registry) A ring of ships and markets around the tower-island. Exams announced like festivals; casualties treated like statistics. Namewell (Chorus Trench rim-city) A city of bells and memorials. People go here to recover lost names… or to erase one. Lotus Quay (Ancestral Courts neutral ground) A diplomatic port where offerings are currency. The wrong gift can start a war. The right gift can end one. Gloomglass Haven (Mirror Expanse port) Foggy, reflective, quiet. People here speak in metaphors because literal words sometimes become binding. Breakwater Nine (Stormwall frontier) The last stable chain of islands before the cyclone belt. Full of mercenaries, storm-priests, and desperate crews upgrading ships. The geographic features that shape politics The Meridian Spine = trade routes + naval control contests Stormwall Ring = the “New World” threshold (where legends get bigger) Chorus Trench = name economy + necromancy-adjacent power struggles Mirror Expanse = prophecy, deception, and “you can’t brute-force this” arcs Null Horizon = endgame mystery + character-backstory detonator Five Currents = natural rails for travel + themed islands/encounters

Races and cultures in Tidewrought 1) Humans (Most common, most diverse) Territories: everywhere, but densest in Ledgerport, Throneharbor, and the major trade islands along the Meridian Spine. Relationships: humans dominate the institutions (Meridian Office, Crown of Salt), which creates friction with peoples whose power comes from spirits or the Tide itself. Cultural blocs (fast + usable): Meridian Citizens (paperwork, law, navy, maps) Freewake Crews (pirate federation, banner-oaths, found family) Salt Crown Nobility (old empire, rituals, ancestral legitimacy) Trench Cantors (Namewell—memory, funerary rites, name-economy) 2) Tidebound (Not a race—an awakened condition) Any ancestry can become Tidebound. It’s your “HxH main character” switch. Territories: concentrated near Stormwall frontier and active myth-zones. Relationships: everybody wants to control them: Meridian Office wants them registered Hunters want them licensed or hunted Ancestral Courts want them disciplined Freewake wants them free 3) Reefkin (Tritons / Sea Elves / Ocean-adapted folk) Territories: reefs along the Meridian Spine, deepwater enclaves near the Chorus Trench, and sea-gardens around the Mirror Expanse. Relationships: tense with surface empires because they remember every “surface treaty” that got broken. Often neutral with Freewake (pirates pay in offerings and keep promises). Key internal divide: Trench Reefkin (ancestor-heavy, name taboos, “don’t speak the deep’s titles”) Spine Reefkin (trade-savvy, pragmatic, shipbuilders) 4) Saltborn (Hardy coastal folk; “sea-tough” lineages) Use: humans, dwarves, halflings, goliaths—anyone whose culture is sea-forged. Territories: Breakwater Nine, storm coasts, wreckfields. Relationships: respected by crews, distrusted by bureaucrats (too many of them are smugglers). They’re the best pilots through bad waters, so everyone needs them. 5) Hearthforged (Dwarves / Warforged / “crafted” peoples) Territories: volcanic islands near Cindersmile Bay, industrial wards of Ledgerport, and mobile shipyards. Relationships: caught between: the Meridian Office, who wants their factories and cannons, and Freewake, who wants their shipwrights and engineers. Unique element: some Hearthforged believe the Tide is a “cosmic forge cycle” and treat myth-zones like raw material. 6) Verdantkin (Elves / Firbolg / nature-tied peoples) Territories: islands on the Green Current where the Tide makes jungles grow overnight and beasts become legends. Relationships: often aligned with Ancestral Courts and opposed to “chart-and-chain” governance from Meridian. Conflict hook: their sacred groves get re-written by overlapping myths — they’re fighting to preserve plural traditions without letting one overwrite the others. 7) Skywrought (Aarakocra / Air Genasi / storm-touched folk) Territories: cliff-isles near the Stormwall Ring, floating atolls, wind corridors above the Meridian Spine. Relationships: prized as navigators/scouts; frequently conscripted or pressured by navies. Many go pirate simply to avoid becoming “assets.” 8) Ashenblooded (Tieflings / fiend-touched / underworld-adjacent lineages) Territories: ports with heavy myth-overlap—especially Namewell and the edges of the Chorus Trench where afterlife bleed-through happens. Relationships: unfairly scapegoated when the Tide causes hauntings or curses. In response, many Ashen communities become tightly mutual-aid oriented and fiercely protective. Common alliances: with Trench Cantors and Mask-brokers (below), because they understand secrets and consequences. 9) Jinnbound (Genasi + jinn-court lineages; also “wind/fire/sand-oath” folk) Territories: desert-islands that appear during Tide surges, and “mirage routes” near the Mirror Expanse. Relationships: highly legalistic—oaths matter more than laws. They hate sloppy promises, which makes them terrifying allies and dangerous enemies. Political reality: Meridian treaties with them are fragile because Meridian contracts are paperwork; Jinn contracts are binding reality. 10) Masked (Changelings / Shifters / “trickster-touched”) Territories: no fixed homeland; densest around Mask Markets and chaotic trade hubs like Cindersmile Bay and black-sail flotillas. Relationships: distrusted by empires, welcomed by crews, watched by spirit courts. They often serve as translators and mediators in overlapping myth-zones (because identity itself becomes fluid under the Tide). Territorial “who lives where” snapshot Ledgerport / Meridian chains: Humans (Meridian Citizens), Hearthforged, mixed cosmopolitan wards Cindersmile Bay / Freewake waters: Humans (Freewake), Saltborn, Hearthforged, Masked Throneharbor / Crown of Salt: Humans (nobility), Saltborn, Verdantkin minorities Chorus Trench rim (Namewell): Reefkin (Trench), Ashenblooded, Cantor cultures Mirror Expanse ports: Jinnbound enclaves, Reefkin gardens, Mask-brokers Stormwall frontier: Skywrought strongholds, Saltborn pilots, high Tidebound density Green Current islands: Verdantkin, beast-clans, Court-aligned settlements Relationship web (simple, playable tensions) Meridian Office vs Freewake: control vs freedom (constant naval pressure) Meridian Office vs Ancestral Courts: paperwork vs sacred law (myth jurisdiction wars) Reefkin vs surface empires: treaty trauma + resource fights + trench taboos Masked caught between all sides: everyone needs them, nobody trusts them Tidebound are the spark: hunted, recruited, worshipped, blamed — depending on who’s talking

The Myth Tide being “stuck on” has turned the Shattersea into a pressure cooker. Here are the tensions and recent flashpoints that create nonstop adventure. 1) The Meridian Crackdown Tension: The Meridian Office is trying to stabilize the world by force: licensing Tidebound, quarantining myth-zones, and seizing “unsafe” relics. Recent event: The Quarantine Chains went up around Breakwater Nine after a whole district shifted into a myth-zone overnight. Thousands are trapped inside, trade is strangled, and black-sail crews are running blockade. Adventure opportunities Smuggle people/medicine through Chain checkpoints (heist + chase). Break someone out before they’re “registered” and disappeared. Steal a Meridian chart-key that predicts Tide surges (everyone wants it). 2) The Freewake Schism Tension: Pirates aren’t united anymore. Half the Freewake ports want to fight Meridian openly; half want to keep the money flowing and avoid a war that would sink them. Recent event: Cindersmile Bay’s Banner Council split after a beloved captain accepted a Meridian pardon and turned informant. Adventure opportunities Hunt the informant (or protect them) while every crew lies about who hired you. Navigate a “Banner Trial” where the sea enforces oaths (roleplay + consequences). Broker peace between two pirate families before the bay becomes a battlefield. 3) The Crown of Salt’s “Restoration” Campaign Tension: The old empire is collapsing, so it’s doing what empires do: reclaim glory, tighten borders, and declare divine right. Recent event: Throneharbor announced the Salt-Tithe Expansion—new taxes on relics, offerings, and “foreign rites.” Spirit-linked communities are rioting. Adventure opportunities Escort a diplomatic offering to prevent a spirit court from cursing the capital. Exfiltrate an oppressed shoreline town under martial law. Steal the Crown’s genealogical “proof” they’re divinely chosen (political dagger work). 4) The Hunter Registry Exams Went “Live” Tension: The Hunter Registry is profiting off chaos by licensing violence. Their trials are now public spectacles, and failing can mean death or branding. Recent event: Trialspire relocated into the Mirror Expanse, where reality is choice-locked and navigation fails. Hundreds of candidates are stranded, and predators are circling. Adventure opportunities Enter the exam to gain legal hunting rights (and access to restricted myth-zones). Rescue a candidate who carries a map to the Null Horizon. Sabotage a rival team without “breaking the rules” (HxH mind games). 5) The Ancestral Courts Are in a Cold War Tension: With mythologies overlapping, spirit jurisdictions collide. Some courts want coexistence; others want supremacy; many demand restitution for centuries of disrespect. Recent event: Lotus Quay’s Neutral Pact was broken when a delegation arrived offering the “wrong” kind of gift—an insult that triggered a week-long curse of silence over the harbor. Adventure opportunities Lift the curse by finding the true insult (investigation + ritual diplomacy). Serve as mediators between rival courts before they turn an island into a proxy war. Retrieve a stolen ancestor-object before it becomes a casus belli. 6) The Drowned Crown’s Coronation Raids Tension: A warlord fleet is conquering Tide hotspots and forcing “legend-roles” onto captured towns—turning people into living myths that serve his empire. Recent event: Three islands were “crowned” in one night; survivors report reality itself started calling their ruler “King” before he even arrived. Adventure opportunities Break a coronation ritual mid-ceremony (set-piece battle with rules). Liberate a town where everyone is magically compelled to speak the king’s praises. Steal the warlord’s “coronation drum” that locks the story in place. 7) The Chorus Trench Is Spitting Up Names Tension: The trench is bleeding afterlife, secrets, and true names into the world. Whoever controls names controls bindings, bargains, and identity. Recent event: A “Name Storm” hit Namewell—random people screamed names that weren’t theirs, then forgot their own faces. Adventure opportunities Recover someone’s stolen name before they fade socially/legally/spiritually. Hunt a “Name Eel” (a deep-sea parasite that eats identities) for a bounty. Infiltrate the Cantors’ vault to erase a name off a kill-contract. 8) The Editor’s Cuts (Slow-burn existential threat) Tension: Something is actively removing contradictions from reality—flattening diaspora complexity into “acceptable” versions and erasing people/places that don’t fit the narrative. Recent event: A whole island’s folklore “simplified” overnight—monsters vanished, ancestors went silent, and every local memory matched a single sanitized story. Adventure opportunities Investigate the “clean island” and find who benefits from the rewrite. Escort a living storyteller whose memory resists the Cut (they’re being hunted). Raid an “Edit Site” where reality is stitched with invisible rules.

How magic works Magic isn’t “arcane physics” here — it’s narrative pressure made real by the Myth Tide. The Tide saturates the world with overlapping myth-laws, and magic is what happens when someone speaks/acts in a way reality recognizes as story-true. There are four common “lanes” of magic: Saga Arts (personal legend magic) The Tide brands certain people with an Epithet (a title like The Unbroken, River-Bride, Knife-Whisper). You gain power by writing your Saga through action — and the world rewards consistency. Mechanically: every Saga Art is built from a Creed (what must be true for it to work) and a Price (the cost or taboo). The stronger the restriction, the stronger the ability (HxH logic). Namecraft (true-name / title / lineage magic) Names are handles on reality. True names, ancestor-names, spirit-names, and secret titles can: bind, banish, invite, curse, protect, compel open “jurisdictions” (entering a spirit’s domain safely) This is the setting’s most dangerous magic because it’s precise, portable, and social. Rites & Offerings (ritual magic) This is community magic: shrines, songs, drumming, fasting, feasts, mourning rites, river offerings, vow ceremonies, etc. It works best in myth-zones where the local Court’s rules are active. Big results require genuine cost: time, labor, sacrifice, service, or a vow. Reliccraft (myth-tech) Objects become magical when they’re saturated with story: a bell that has ended a thousand funerals, a blade sworn on a river, a mask worn through three identities. Relics don’t just “cast spells” — they demand behavior (they come with their own mini-Creed/Price). Who can use magic Anyone can try. Not everyone survives it. Reliable users: Tidebound: people awakened by the Myth Tide (main PC category). Court-Sworn: individuals who’ve pledged to an Ancestral Court or divine lineage; they get boons but owe service. Cantors / Recordkeepers / Namewell Adepts: trained Namecrafters who study titles, dead languages, and binding etiquette. Relicwrights: smiths/shipwrights who build myth-tech (charms in keels, vow-engines, name-anchors). Ritual Communities: whole towns can “cast” together through coordinated rites (especially during surges). Unstable users (high chaos hooks): Borrowers: steal power by wearing masks/titles that aren’t theirs. Epithet-Addicts: chase bigger titles until reality punishes them. Glitched: people changed by overlapping myths (two destinies at once). The rules that keep magic from becoming sloppy These three laws make the world feel HxH-smart: Law of Price: No meaningful magic without cost. If it’s free, it’s a trick or a trap. Law of Jurisdiction: Power is strongest where its myth is “in signal.” Outside that zone, it weakens or changes. Law of Consistency: Betray your Epithet/Creed and your power backfires or disappears until you atone (or reinvent your story). Religion: which deities influence the world? Short answer: Yes — all of them can, but not everywhere, and not equally. Tidewrought is not “one pantheon.” It’s a living overlap of many divine ecosystems. The most important thing isn’t “who is the strongest god,” it’s which Court currently has jurisdiction over an area, a people, or a pact. How deities show up Most deities don’t stroll around daily like NPC shopkeepers. They influence the world through: Courts & Jurisdictions: regions where their laws hold (storms obey certain rites; rivers demand certain etiquette). Emissaries: saints, spirits, messengers, ancestors, monsters, avatars. Boons & Curses: granted via vows, offerings, hospitality, taboos, lineage obligations. Omens: weather, dreams, sudden encounters, repeating symbols, “impossible” coincidences. Champions: Tidebound who become living arguments for a deity’s way of being. A clean way to run “all mythologies” without a messy list Instead of tracking thousands of gods, run them as Courts: Sea Courts (storms, trade winds, shipwrecks, leviathans) River Courts (boundaries, love, hunger, purification, debt) Sky Courts (lightning, prophecy, kingship, judgment) Under Courts (dead, names, grief, vengeance, inheritance) Hearth Courts (craft, home, fire, oaths, protection) Trickster Choirs (masks, loopholes, reversal, comedy, liberation) Then, when you want specificity, you “tune in” to a Court’s representatives from different traditions as the Tide shifts. So one island’s storm-court might manifest through different faces depending on which myth-signal is strongest — without you having to declare one tradition “over” another. What faith looks like day-to-day Most people are syncretic: they honor what protects their waters and families here, not a single universal doctrine. Ports have multi-shrine rows (offerings to sea, wind, ancestors, luck, safe passage). Breaking hospitality/taboo law is one of the fastest ways to get cursed — because spirits enforce culture more than courts do.

Other planes absolutely exist — but they don’t sit “beside” the world in a neat wheel. They phase in and out based on the Myth Tide, local Courts, and what stories are being reinforced. The key idea Planes interact with the material world through Veils: thin spots where reality’s “genre” changes. When the Tide surges, Veils widen. When vows are broken, Veils tear. When a community performs the same rite for generations, a Veil becomes a door. So planar travel isn’t “find portal → teleport.” It’s earn access → obey rules → survive the jurisdiction. The Six Veil Realms (your planar map) These aren’t alignment-based; they’re function-based and easy to run. 1) The Underways (Dead + Names + Memory) Where the dead go, where names echo, where inheritance and grief have weight. How it touches the world: hauntings, ancestor dreams, name storms near the Chorus Trench. Common Veils: cemeteries, shipwreck sites, mass-grave beaches, places where no one is remembered. Rule: You can’t take anything out unless you leave something behind (memory, name, promise). 2) The Courts Above (Oaths + Judgment + Sky Law) A layer of wind-bridges and storm-thrones where contracts become physical. How it touches the world: lightning that targets oathbreakers, “trial weather,” prophetic storms. Common Veils: cliff shrines, storm eyes, mountaintop altars, courtrooms in myth-zones. Rule: Every statement is admissible. If you speak it here, it’s binding. 3) The Deepwake (Sea Mind + Leviathans + Pressure) Not “water,” but the ocean’s sentience and ancient dreaming. How it touches the world: currents that guide fated meetings, ships hearing voices, kraken-myth bleed. Common Veils: trenches, whirlpools, calm mirror seas, places where the sea “refuses” to move. Rule: Fear attracts attention. Calm hides you. 4) The Loom (Fate + Story + Recurrence) Where stories are stitched and rerun—prophecy, repeating roles, déjà vu. How it touches the world: epithets, “inevitable scenes,” villains who keep showing up “because the story demands it.” Common Veils: theaters, festival grounds, coronations, funerals, births, “first kiss” moments. Rule: You cannot act “out of genre” without paying a Price (reality backlash). 5) The Wild Between (Beasts + Growth + Hunger) A primal layer where mythic animals and nature spirits roam unfenced. How it touches the world: jungles overtaking cities, beast-clans, impossible ecosystems on Green Current islands. Common Veils: ancient groves, migratory stampedes, lunar wilds, places with no human names. Rule: Territory is truth. If you can’t claim it, you don’t belong there. 6) The Maskways (Trickster Space + Identity + Loopholes) A shifting corridor-plane of doors, aliases, mirrors, and swapped fates. How it touches the world: sudden disguises that “work too well,” contracts with fine print, identity theft as magic. Common Veils: masked markets, crossroads, backstage alleys, any place where people lie for fun. Rule: Names are negotiable, but debts aren’t. Every bargain creates a hook. How planes interact with the material world (3 modes) 1) Myth-Zones (Overlap Fields) A region temporarily follows a Veil Realm’s rules. Example: a coastal town becomes “Underways-adjacent” for a week: the dead walk and every spoken name costs a memory. 2) Anchors (Fixed Doors) Stable planar doors created by: centuries of ritual repetition, massive tragedies, divine pacts, or a powerful relic embedded in the land/ship. Anchors are strategic assets—nations fight over them. 3) Bleed (Contamination Events) When a Veil tears, you get leakage: creatures slip through, laws change locally (truth binds, shadows testify), geography mutates (staircases to the sky, rivers running upward). Bleed creates emergency missions and “WTF set pieces.” Planar travel rules (HxH-style constraints) Planar access is never random. It’s earned or forced. To enter a Veil Realm, you need one of: a Key Rite (specific offering / phrase / act), a Jurisdiction Pass (Court permission), a Relic Anchor (object that holds a door open), a Saga Condition (your Epithet aligns strongly enough to “pull you in”). And every realm enforces a cost: time dilation, memory tax, oath binding, identity shift, “you can return, but not unchanged.” What this gives you for adventure Dungeon equivalents that aren’t caves: a courthouse storm-plane, a trench-name labyrinth, a mask-market portal chase. Political conflicts: who controls Anchors? who regulates rites? who profits from Bleeds? Personal stakes: a PC’s Epithet can literally open doors to the Loom… and trap them in their own story.

The world’s history is best understood as eras of how the Myth Tide behaved—because when the Tide changes, reality changes with it. Age I — The First Telling (Pre-recorded time) What it was: The world was raw and unclaimed. Spirits, ancestors, and gods didn’t “rule” so much as introduce themselves. Names were dangerous because they were new. Legacy: places where reality is still “unwritten.” Ruins & remnants Unnamed Monoliths that can’t be mapped twice the same way “First shrines” that accept offerings from any tradition (rare and powerful) Myth-springs that grant an Epithet if you drink… but also a Price Age II — Courts of Coast and Sky (The Pact Era) What it was: Communities survived by formalizing relationships with local powers: sea courts, river courts, sky judges, hearth guardians, under-courts of the dead. This is when hospitality law, oath rites, and territory taboos became the backbone of civilization. Legacy: binding etiquette still holds—even when nations deny it. Ruins & remnants Oathstones along coasts: swear on them and the sea enforces it Sky Bridges (broken) that once let emissaries travel between Courts Ancestor Harbors where the dead can still be consulted on calm nights Age III — The Salt Crown Ascendancy (Imperial Sea Age) What it was: The Crown of Salt unified trade routes and conquered ports, promising stability by standardizing law. They didn’t erase faith—they administrated it, turning rites into taxes and courts into “state partners.” Legacy: modern borders, noble lines, and resentment. Ruins & remnants Gilded Seawalls etched with genealogies (some are false, some are cursed) Salt-Tithe Vaults stuffed with confiscated relics and outlawed rites Cathedral-Drydocks where ships were blessed like kings Age IV — The Meridian Reformation (Charts Over Spirits) What it was: A philosophical revolution: the Meridian Office rose by arguing the world could be managed through measurement, quarantine, and licensing instead of appeasement. They built map-halls, chain-forts, and a navy that treated myth as a hazard. Legacy: the current regime, bureaucracy as power, and “stability” as a weapon. Ruins & remnants Chain-Fort Rings around old myth-zones (some still active, some haunted) Dead Chart Rooms where maps rewrite themselves and trap readers Signal Towers that can “boost” a Court’s influence—or suppress it Age V — The Thirteen-Year Cycle (The Known Tide) What it was: For centuries the Myth Tide behaved predictably: 13 years quiet, 13 days of surge, then retreat. Societies adapted: festivals, hunter exams, migration routes, “Tide-proof” architecture, and emergency rites. Legacy: people built their lives around the surge—until it didn’t end. Ruins & remnants Tide Break Temples designed to “push back” surges (now failing) Festival Grounds that still trigger planar overlap on certain dates Old Hunter Trial Arenas littered with bones and legendary relics Age VI — The Stuck Tide (Now) What it is: The Tide never receded. Myths overlap permanently. Planes bleed. Names become currency. Epithets spread like wildfire. Every institution is reacting in real time—badly. Legacy-in-progress: this is the era your players will define. New ruins forming right now Towns swallowed by the Wild Between overnight Ports “cleaned” by the Editor into sanitized, wrong versions of themselves New floating islands made of shipwrecks + prayers + storms 7 iconic ruin sites (adventure-ready) The Oathgrave Coast — a shoreline of Oathstones; breaking one triggers a storm trial. Vaults of the Salt-Tithe — imperial reliquaries full of seized myth-tech. The Skybridge Fractures — floating broken causeways with Court Above spillover. The Chorus Steps — stone stairs descending into the Trench; each step demands a name. The Dead Chart Hall — a Meridian map-vault that traps you in routes you “believe.” The Tide Break Basilica — a massive engine-temple meant to end surges; now it amplifies them. The Unnamed Island — it appears with no label and cannot be remembered without a token.

Civilization survives because people learned how to trade in three layers at once: coin, leverage, and the supernatural. The three currencies everyone understands Belly (coin) Metal coinage still matters for food, repairs, wages, and bribery. Most widely accepted in “stable” waters controlled by the Meridian Office and the Crown of Salt. Favors (credit) IOUs backed by guilds, crews, ports, and courts. Favors are tracked via seal-tokens (wax marks, stamped knots, signed ribbons, etched bone) depending on local culture. In Freewake and mixed ports, Favors often buy more than coin. Names (high-value currency) True names, oath-names, ancestor names, and secret titles are literal leverage in a myth-saturated world. Names are traded like blackmail + keys + weapons. Because it’s dangerous, Names usually move through brokers using Name-escrow (see below). Quick table rule: Coin buys things. Favors buy people. Names buy reality. Economic systems that keep things running Meridian Office: “Tariffs + Licenses + Quarantine Profit” They tax trade through official corridors and sell “safe passage” permits. They run quarantine chains (blockades) and charge for: inspections permits for Tidebound travel relic handling “certifications” Their economy thrives on being the only “predictable” option. Adventure hooks: forged passes, bribed inspectors, stolen chart-keys, blockade runs. Crown of Salt: “Tithes + Heritage + Relic Banking” Old empire wealth runs on Salt-Tithes: taxes on relics, offerings, and “foreign rites.” They maintain genealogy vaults and sell legitimacy: papers, titles, marriage alliances. They treat relics like gold bars—stored, leveraged, inherited. Adventure hooks: vault raids, smuggling outlawed rites, political debt collection. Freewake Confederacy: “Port Markets + Salvage Law + Banner Oaths” Freewake ports run on: salvage rights (shipwreck economy is massive) crew shares (loot distribution) banner law (your flag is a contract—break it and your reputation dies) Their black-market isn’t “evil”; it’s just faster than bureaucracy. Adventure hooks: disputed salvage claims, bounty hunters, banner trials, rival crew sabotage. Ancestral Courts: “Offerings + Jurisdiction + Blessing Economy” In Court-influenced regions, prosperity depends on keeping the correct rites. Currency includes: offerings (food, craft, song, service) ritual labor (time is money) taboos honored (social capital) Courts don’t care about coin as much as respect and continuity. Adventure hooks: diplomatic missions, cursed ports, stolen ancestor-objects, taboo enforcement. Hunter Registry: “Licenses + Contracts + Legal Violence” They sell legitimacy to hunt monsters, people, relics, and Tidebound bounties. Hunters operate as a professional class with: contract networks escrow payments claim disputes (who “owns” a kill or capture) Adventure hooks: exam arcs, contract betrayals, competing claims, bounty poster politics. Trade routes: how goods actually move The Meridian Spine (the main artery) A shifting reef-highway across the world. Most “civilized” trade attempts to follow it because it’s the most chartable. Pros: predictable enough for convoys Cons: pirates, reefkin tolls, chain-forts, moving hazards The Five Great Currents (fast lanes with personality) Trade follows the Currents, but each Current warps risk/reward: Gold Current (wealth + scams): luxury goods, spices, art, vice markets Red Current (war + honor): weapons, armor, mercenaries, medical supplies Indigo Current (dreams + prophecy): inks, books, relic reagents, “information” Green Current (growth + hunger): timber, medicinal plants, beast products, food surges White Current (ghosts + endings): funerary goods, salt, black cloth, name-brokerage Stormwall Ring routes (the “New World” lanes) Only the strongest crews run this. It’s where legends get big and profit margins get insane. Adventure hooks: escort convoys, race rivals, survive “toll monsters,” claim new ports. What gets traded (and why it matters) Normal goods food staples, salt, lumber, iron, cloth, medicine ship parts, black powder, tools books, printing plates, maps (valuable because the world changes) Myth goods (“myth-tech economy”) Relics (objects with story weight) Rite-components (rare herbs, bone-ink, consecrated water/sand) Court-favors (safe passage, blessing, curse removal) Chartwork (maps that predict or resist Tide shifts) Name-market instruments (how Names trade safely) Name-escrow: a Cantor or broker holds the name until terms are met Name-shards: partial names (enough to weaken or find someone, not bind fully) False-name bonds: contracts backed by identity—break it and you lose social existence in certain ports This makes Names tradable without turning every deal into instant mind-control. Economic pressure points (built-in conflict) Blockades (Meridian chains) choke food and medicine → smuggling booms. Relic inflation spikes whenever the Tide surges → vaults get raided. Name shortages hit after “Name Storms” → brokers become kingmakers. Salvage wars erupt after big storms → rival crews fight over wreckfields. Court embargoes happen when taboos are broken → whole ports get cursed into silence or bad luck.

Justice in the Shattersea isn’t one system—it’s stacked. Most places enforce some mix of: state law, port law, crew law, and spirit law. That’s why the world feels spicy: you can be “innocent” in a courthouse and cursed to death by the local river. How justice is administered 1) State Law (Meridian Office + Crown of Salt) Where: Ledgerport corridors, quarantine zones, Throneharbor holdings, chained forts. How it works: written statutes, permits, evidence, sentencing. Meridian Office = bureaucratic justice crimes: unlicensed Tide use, relic trafficking, quarantine breach, “narrative destabilization” punishments: fines, forced registration, press-gangs, magical restraints, exile to Chain Forts Crown of Salt = aristocratic justice crimes: blasphemy against “state rites,” tax evasion, harboring outlawed cults, insulting nobility punishments: tithe seizure, public penance rites, imprisonment, “bloodline audits” (weaponized genealogy) Adventure friction: you can beat the case and still lose your ship to “inspection.” 2) Port Law (Harbormasters + Guilds + Dock Courts) Where: nearly every city, especially mixed ports. How it works: fast, practical, money-driven. The docks hate prolonged drama. Common port charges: breach of salvage claim violence without a license smuggling without paying the right people “curse negligence” (bringing bad luck/spirits to the docks) Punishments are usually: tariffs, seizures, docking bans, bounty postings forced labor on repairs exile from the port (which can be a death sentence depending on the waters) Adventure friction: guilds can “legalize” a crime if you do them a job. 3) Crew Law (Banner Oaths) Where: Freewake and pirate waters, but also many merchant crews. How it works: your flag is your constitution. Steal from crew? Keelhaul / maroon / exile. Break the captain’s declared vow? Mutiny becomes “legal.” Break a Banner Oath publicly? The sea itself may enforce consequences (storms, bad winds, failed navigation). Disputes are often settled by: share courts (loot distribution tribunal) duels (first blood / to surrender / to death) trial voyages (survive a cursed route to prove innocence) Adventure friction: your reputation is law—once it’s stained, ports close to you. 4) Spirit Law (Ancestral Courts + Local Jurisdiction) Where: myth-zones, sacred sites, river mouths, storm coasts, burial grounds. How it works: taboo + rite + reciprocity. It’s not “good vs evil,” it’s “respect vs consequence.” Common spirit “crimes”: breaking hospitality rites speaking forbidden names taking without offering harming a protected creature/person lying in a truth-jurisdiction Punishments look like: illness, misfortune, storms following your ship losing your reflection, your voice, your luck being “unseen” socially (people literally ignore you) debt geasa: “Complete X or suffer Y.” Adventure friction: the clean legal solution can still violate spirit law. How societies view adventurers (aka crews, hunters, Tidebound) General public “Useful, dangerous, romantic, terrifying.” People love adventurers when they solve a monster problem or bring trade. People fear them because Tidebound power can trigger backlash and attract hunters/navies. Baseline reaction: Awe + caution + “please don’t bring your problems here.” Authorities (Meridian Office / Crown of Salt) Adventurers are: assets if registered and controllable criminals if unlicensed propaganda if made into examples They’ll offer: pardons for service licenses that double as tracking devices “jobs” that are really containment Freewake ports Adventurers are: currency (your reputation is trade value) entertainment (stories keep morale alive) competition (everyone wants the same salvage) Freewake respects: competence loyalty to crew and paying your shares Ancestral Courts / spirit-linked communities Adventurers are: disruptors (you bring foreign rules) potential champions (if you show respect) liabilities (if you ignore taboos) If you do rites correctly, you’re welcomed. If you don’t, you’re a walking curse. The Hunter Registry Adventurers are: unlicensed hunters (bad for business) future candidates (fresh talent) targets (if your bounty is profitable) Hunters respect one thing: results under rules. Justice “feel” by region (quick table vibe) Ledgerport: paperwork, licenses, public trials, confiscation Throneharbor: status, ritual punishment, tithe seizures Cindersmile Bay: banner law, duels, share courts Namewell: name-debts, confession rites, memorial judgments Mirror Expanse ports: truth/choice laws, contract traps Stormwall frontier: survival justice—“did your decisions get people killed?”

The Big Bad: The Mask Carnival (aka The Gilded Menagerie) A traveling carnival that doesn’t arrive—it manifests when a town is ripe: grief, boredom, desperation, curiosity, or a string of disappearances. It offers exactly what people secretly want: a cure a reunion a “new self” a wish an escape And it collects payment in the most horrifying currency: identity. What makes it scary You can’t just kill them. The Carnival is partly a place, partly a story, partly a hunger. People choose to enter. That consent warps everything. Victims don’t die right away—they get recast. Core gimmick: The Ticket When the Carnival appears, someone presses a ticket into your hand—warm as skin. If you keep the ticket: the Carnival can always find you. If you tear it up: it reforms in your pocket later… unless you pay the “refund” (a memory, a name, or a promise). If you give it away: congratulations—you just cursed someone else. Your party will hate it (in a good way). The Freak Show (your recurring villains) These are the “acts”—bosses, lieutenants, and monsters all in one. 1) The Ringmaster of Many Mouths A tall figure whose smile doesn’t match the face it’s on. Power: speaks in voices of people you trust. Horror move: offers a deal that sounds kind, then makes the “fine print” literal. Weakness: can’t lie on stage. It must frame everything as “truth” or “performance.” Fight condition idea: you can only hurt it while the crowd is silent. 2) The Seamstress A stitched-apron surgeon who “fixes” people into better versions. Power: swaps body parts, skills, even personalities like clothing. Horror move: “upgrades” an NPC into something beautiful that begs to be put back. Weakness: thread is law—cut the right seam and the spell unravels. Fight condition idea: each round, someone must describe a personal flaw out loud to resist being “improved.” 3) The Mirror Clown Not funny. Never funny. Power: steps out of reflections and drags people into them. Horror move: copies a PC’s face perfectly, then commits an atrocity in public. Weakness: it can’t cross a reflection that’s been “blessed” by genuine laughter. Fight condition idea: real laughter = radiant damage. Forced laughter = it gets stronger. 4) The Strongman Saint A giant who is only strong when adored. Power: applause becomes armor; attention becomes regeneration. Horror move: forces townsfolk to cheer or break their hands. Weakness: ignored = fragile. Fight condition idea: the party must win by making the crowd look away (darkness, shame, truth, awe). 5) The Starved Acrobat A performer who moves wrong, like a spider pretending to be human. Power: bends joints through impossible angles, slips through keyholes, “folds” into shadows. Horror move: steals breath mid-leap (targets start suffocating while watching). Weakness: salt lines and steady rhythm disrupt its motion. Fight condition idea: if anyone breaks the beat (panic, shouting), it gets extra actions. 6) The Barker (The One Who Calls Your Name) A hype-man with a bell who speaks your “almost true” name. Power: strips titles, steals epithets, makes people forget you mid-conversation. Horror move: turns a PC into “background”—NPCs stop noticing them. Weakness: you can reclaim your place by performing a true act aligned to your identity. Fight condition idea: every time you speak your own name, you get power—but also give the Barker a targeting lock. What the Carnival wants Not money. Not power. Not domination. It wants a perfect show: a final performance where the world forgets what it was, and everyone becomes an act. Endgame plan: turn a major port into a permanent “fairground” bind the Myth Tide to applause and fear make reality run on spectacle The Carnival’s “horror chaos” encounters (instant session fuel) A town wakes up with posters of the party as “TONIGHT’S SPECIAL GUESTS.” A missing child returns… wrong—polite, smiling, with stage makeup that won’t wash off. A friendly NPC wins a prize and suddenly can’t stop performing their trauma as a monologue. The party tries to leave town, but every road loops back to the big top. A “funhouse” door opens into the Underways. The dead are seated in the audience. The carnival game is rigged: if you win, you lose something important; if you lose, you owe them. How to run fights like HxH without “law vibes” Make every set-piece have a Show Rule (simple, cruel, smart): “You can’t deal damage while anyone is applauding.” “Lies create extra mirrors.” “If you refuse a deal three times, the Carnival takes the choice away.” “If you wear a mask, you lose one memory per hour.” This keeps combat tactical and terrifying. A 3-session mini-arc (clean and nasty) Session 1: The Arrival Carnival appears overnight. People are happier… too happy. First disappearance: someone leaves a note that just says “BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE.” Session 2: The Games Investigation through tents and acts. The party gets targeted with personalized “prizes.” Reveal: victims aren’t dead—they’re becoming performers. Session 3: The Main Event The Ringmaster announces the party as the finale. Boss fight on stage under Show Rules. Win condition isn’t “kill”—it’s break the crowd’s belief (expose, disrupt, steal the heart of the carnival, burn the ticket book, etc.).