The World
Every realm is grown from a single seed: the hills, the coast, the village and where its houses stand. Nothing here was placed by hand except the things that were meant to be.
The village by the sea
You wake by the well of a small fishing village on the coast. Log houses, a watchtower over the path down to the pier, and a handful of folk who have seen strangers like you before.
Walker Norris
The martial arts master at the well. Greeter, trainer and teller of tall tales about himself. He teaches the fighting stances, for a price, if your fists are ready.
Osbert Barker, Tanner
Buys hides, sells leather, and always has work for a new pair of hands. His prices rise and fall with what the village needs.
The children
They play kick-ball around the town all day. Walk into the ball and see who comes running.
The Kragmor coast
Down the shoreline, where the sand meets the shallows, the fish-folk build their reed huts on stilts over the water. Nets hang between driftwood poles, fish dry on the racks, and a whole pig turns over the fire.
Their warriors come in every colour of the catch: silver bass, bluegill, salmon, koi. Their tide-callers keep to the back and throw bolts of water. Catch one off guard and you might find her dancing by the fire.
Bestiary
