Reekharbor Tales - Myth-Weavers Lethe


Reekharbor Tales


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Heavily Houseruled Homebrew in a Low Magic World

Expect more Roleplaying, less dice rolling. Low-magic world, horribly untested houserules to handle that. You've been warned.

I'm reviving a small portion of an old setting I made, the city of Reekharbor.

Set on the edge of the Stinking Sea (a massive sea-sized crater of a megavolcano that connects to the ocean), assaulted by acidic water and corrosive air, the city has a reputation as the most corrupt and most dangerous city in the Empire of the Lake. Despite this, the vast mineral wealth and political clout concentrated in the region keeps it growing, hungry for new blood.

The only major harbor north of the Imperial Hearth, Reekharbor is also home to the infamous Grenhull Pirates, so-called due to the corroded copper sheets they line their ships with. The sulfurous sea eats away much more slowly against copper than wood and the Pirates make Reekharbor one of the biggest importers of the metal. In exchange, the city, along with a vast slave force, mines and produces some of the finest steel in the lands. The hilly rim of the volcano contains deposits of iron and other metals suitable for durable and resilient weaponry and armor. The Pirates bring in contraband from several seas away, Imperial Nobles bring expensive bribes, and all of this wealth brings in the predators and opportunists.

The very air eats away at the residents of the city, leaving only the most corrupt and desperate. For some reason your fate brings you here, perhaps you are from afar, having spent your last coin on passage to the harbor, hoping to make a living in the Imperial Lands. Perhaps you are a slave, plotting escape day in and day out, ready to take your destiny into your own hands. Perhaps you were born here, maybe to a Noble, more likely to a Cook, Maidservant, or toothless fishwife. Duty, hope, faith, desperation, adventure... the echo of reasons to end up in the city can be heard in every tavern, on the lips of every beggar and every merchant prince. But the city eats folk alive. Perhaps you will succeed where so many failed...

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