The Razor Coast has drawn men to madness and
slaughter since the world was young. Tulita natives, born from the same fire as
this jagged coast, claim the Razor existed long before the world’s other lands.
It is a crucible of flame cooled by the ocean’s caress and its mountains, reefs
and lightless depths teem with as many terrors as they do lustrous spoils. The
Razor bucks the trappings of civilization in much the same manner the
storm-tossed sea spurns the men who dare mount her. This is no place for the
weak-willed. Untested souls are food for its storms, its fickle gods, its
ancient spirits and the evil predations of unfathomable creatures. No less
dangerous are the men who make the coast their home and whose dark desires put
most horrors to shame.
Every year another colony of
hopeful settlers springs up, only to be silenced by the unforgiving landscape or
butchered by fearsome tribes of monsters lurking just beyond the tree line. Yet
still the colonists come in their hundreds, lured to the coast’s riches: its
kava, its jocas fruit and koa wood, to name but a few. All treasures worth twice
their weight in gold and all ripe for the picking along the Razor. Mossy
placards emblazoned with the bold names of these colonies’ founders are the only
testament left to their brief, prideful existence. The last chapter of their
story is now told in dust and ash.
Port Shaw is the only survivor.
The town clings to the coast like the sea’s most stubborn barnacle, impossible
to scrape from the Razor’s edge. At times it limps along, vexed by demons, angry
gods, cannibal tribes, dread pirate armadas, and worse; but at present the city
thrives as foreign vessels flock to its harbor, their holds hungry for whale oil
and other treasures.
Port Shaw menaces and delights in
equal extremes. Treasures and pleasures abound in this whaling boomtown, but
evil and abandon take almost every soul who comes her way. This playground of
pirates is ruled by the crushing fist of the Municipal Dragoons and filled with
both the ancient curses of the coast’s Tulita natives and dark secrets of its
own. It is an easy place to die, and a town where countless legends are born.
- From the Journals of Reiker Glassgrinder,
naturalist and historian
KICKSTARTER PROJECTS BEGINS 12-25-12 MIDNIGHT
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