Ashgath, the Herald of the restless dead
What everything here answers to.
Letters, briefs and reports can be shown with their own typography. Automatic keeps that only while none of your settings above ask otherwise.
Everything the game knows, written down: commands and systems, the places in the world, and what there is to do in them.
What everything here answers to.
Whatever else is here, it is here because of this one.
Whatever else is here, it is here because of this one.
What everything here answers to.
A sea-queen in a captain's coat with charts rolled under one arm, reading the weather rather than the room.
A fleet captain in marine's harness, boarding axe at the hip, standing braced as though the deck were moving.
A corsair princess in fine coat and rough boots, a folded letter of marque tucked openly through her belt.
An old raider in scarred plate over furs, a rolled drawing of rebuilt walls under one arm that he shows to nobody.
A salvage-queen in dark practical clothes, empty-handed in an empty room, holding the stillness of someone who owns the market.
A widow in plain wool with a drop spindle turning in her fingers, weaving while she listens, flawlessly.