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INTRO


Rhau. A universe in a bottle. At its very core sits the Sun, suspended by massive pillars—relics of a time long past. At the base of these monoliths, these vigilant obelisks: the Ocean. The Ocean Absolute. All that is, all that has ever been, all that ever will exist is bound by its watery shell, which has devoured civilization after civilization, nation after nation, country after country, bringing gods, kings, and man to heel beneath its riptide eternity. The shape of the Ocean is vaguely like an egg, with a wide southerly pole and a narrow northern terminus, with the man-made terrain of long-dead worlds reaching their spires towards the pinnacle like the clutching fingers of the damned.

The Ocean knows no salvation, no peace, no solace. Countless ships have broken themselves upon its impenetrable surface, countless men lost to the depths, littering ruins with salt-caked skeletons. The coral feasts upon their remains, turning already-treacherous waters into thousands upon thousands of miles of impassable terrain, too tempestuous for rafts or canoes and too shallow and damaging for greater ships to tread. This is the black truth of the Ocean: it will kill you, eventually. It has had time to practice.

Between watery firmament and gleaming solar body, there exists the sky, filled with birds accustomed to live above the water, and their roosts: the continents that dwell above the Ocean, suspended on invisible strings, orbiting forever around the Sun. These rocky, craggy surfaces exist in their own range of habitability, from awful desert climes barely leaving the Sun’s gaze to frozen, rime-hardened wastelands, tundra created from their distance from the only body of heat, and, worse yet, in lockstep with the shadow of other lands. As a result, days can be anywhere from long to nearly eternal, halted only by the dimming of the Sun, an act said to be performed by the twin spires that harness its glow. Even the black of night does not last forever, but it is in night that the truest beauty of Rhau comes to bear.

Basking in the Sun’s quieted radiance—the light beneath the waves pushes through the cracks, a constellation of breathtaking and unfathomable dimension, echoed underfoot by glistering prominences painting their golden brush against the easel-edges of ships drifting hither and yon. Many wonder what could glitter so, if not gold—then surely, treasure. The men of the countries floating so far above demanded to know, in times millennia past; and so, they set about creating methods to reach those perfect lights, and in the process, accidentally crafted the ecosystem of the sapient world.

You see, men were not always aware of the watery dangers endemic to Rhau. They saw it eddy and flow, musing philosophically about the great dancing hills of water that roamed beneath their floating demesne. They desired to dance in its shallows, to know its secrets. Then came the Rot. The Rot was a teaching tool, a weapon of disillusionment. An implement for growth beyond reckoning. In the ancient days, Rot was seen as a terrible plague, slaughtering the weak-bodied and sapping strength from the able. However, the Rot bore a peculiarity—though plague it might have been, with awful fungal pustules flowering from the weak and weary, these people did not need to eat, to sleep, even to drink. They found other ways of gaining sustenance.

A nobleman, proclaiming himself a ‘scientist,’ set about the study of this Rot, and in the process, would come to discover all that it could be. It could bind. It could camouflage. It could spread. Propagate. Workers. Thousands upon thousands of them, loyal to the false promise of a cure for their ailment, took of the Rot and began the nobleman’s toil, crafting the first Great Chain that would moor his stately abode to the spot. Their progress was astounding, but they were dying. Limbs fell away. Gangrene festered as the fungus choked the life out of their veins. Agony abounded.

The nobleman watched from his stately manor as the first man drew Wax from his mollified carcass and used it to craft pure, white brick from the soil beneath, sticking it vaguely in the socket where his leg once resided.

The Rot was not some simple fungus. All was Rot. This nobleman would come to publish a journal of his findings, rudimentary for our time, but it would serve to pen his name down in history: Ephraim Claviger, the first God-Pope of the Papacy of Law. Knowledge circulated. The ruling class gleefully infected their populace, growing Great Chains and fishing villages from the rotting flesh of their ‘lessers.’
These white-brick harbors were perfect—immune to the salty tides, drifting along as anchor for the Chains, keeping the countries above mobile while still able to access the bounty of the Ocean below. This was the Golden Age of Rot, where nautical science and infrastructure grew in the same breath, where maths and anatomy and medicine bloomed with every sample of Rot. Rust, Wax, Plague, Age, Mold, Cancer… Rots upon Rots upon Rots came to public knowledge, and the imperial powers set each and every one to work. Centuries passed, and Rhau grew more recognizable as the swirling tide of man and Rot that it has become. In Kamdi, a grand and sprawling nation second only to the majestic Wax-white Lawlands, placed a creature of empathy in power who demanded that his nobility cease their wanton subjugation of his people. He would be later found in the town square of Mezdec, the greatest domain of his civilian supporters, impaled upon a Brine-caked, Rusted pike.

And thus began the Plague Wars. Empires struck out against one another to wrest control of fresh-water sources, Chaining entire continents together to widen their lofty fiefdoms. Droves of peasants died for the glorious crusade of their country… And then, finally, came the revolts. Kings died. Noblemen were tossed over the edges of continents by the hundreds. Hye and Camir established themselves on the remnants of dead kingdoms, nations dedicated to their people in a way no kingdom had before. Kamdi shrunk, giving its landmass away to war-torn countries like Slastey and Rebonaude, barely surviving its own power vacuum.

When the burning hate of war grew thin, after treaties were signed and peasantry were finally treated as more than fodder, the glimmering of the ocean floor once again caught the eye of man, and the Age of Exploration commenced. Refugees of the war sought solace on the Ocean beneath, old mercenaries and young men and women alike coming down and giving of themselves to create the foundation upon which Tortuga was built, the Roaming Country, unbound by any nation or creed, a home for those who would deny their homes, come to roost in a breathtaking patchwork of engineering, wrought from driftwood and Wax.

Divers, brigands, cutthroats, merchants, academics, pirates. Whether in search of the night-shimmering secrets or their next meal, Tortuga became the de facto home of all those who did not belong, and all those who did not care to belong.

It has only grown in the centuries since then. As it drifts along the Ocean, lightly crashing into the coral ruins and leaving naught but pennies in their treasure-grabbing wake, it has eventually become a home to you, as well. Whether addled by Rot or greed, learned or unable to read, Tortuga stands for all that you want, and exactly what you need.
Welcome to Rhau.





A Brief Intermission
In Order To Explain Some Ground Rules

Avast, ahoy, something-something ye-hearties and sea dogs and something-something scallywags! Pirate words!
Now, the high seas or whatever sure are lawless and there are plenty other lore-friendly ways to say these things while I calmly adjust my cardboard pirate hat, but you knew rules were going to come into this at some point.

Alright, groans done? Here's the gist:

  • Engagement is key. Get in on this. Feel the vibe. Get tight with your crew. Ask questions, ask dumb questions. Whatever floats your boat is what's going to get you sailing all that much faster.
  • We're all here to have a good time. Love thy neighbor. Be swell to each other. If I catch word that y'all are out talking shit about one another, you'd best believe your stay won't be long.
  • Don't rock the boat. Yeah, not-so-lovely things are going on in the world right now. However, we're not going to blow the sanctity of the space on bad vibes that most people will doubtlessly hear from somewhere else.
  • Meme first, avoid thirst. Listen, I get it. You live and die by the booty, double entendre intended. That said, this is an adventure, not a sexcapade. Do a credit to your character and your other roleplayers by putting a little more into it than a horny faceclaim, you know? Especially considering there's a high chance that pretty face is gonna get covered head to toe in magic fungus. Pretty folks and attractive faceclaims are fine but leave the softcore in your horny folder.
  • Nothing happens in a vacuum, including GM thoughts. Do you have a particular idea for how you want your character arc to go? Do you have some specific limits of things you don't want me doing? Do you just wanna shoot the shit and ask about trappings? Ask away. My DMs are open to people in the Discord.
  • Nothing happens in a vacuum, including the world. I have smartly designed this such that it will go on without you. If your crew finds that you're suddenly catatonic, they'll either huck you overboard or staple you to a bed. It's fine, it happens, we all get seashock. There aren't any posting 'requirements,' in terms of frequency, but that comes with the distinct caveat of being sure your crewmates are apprised and know you're going to be gone for a short period, and letting either them or myself know what to do with your character in the meanwhile, or whether we need to put your crew's particular thread on a brief pause. All I ask is that you toss in a little more than a paragraph every time you post, and if you can, try to collaborate with myself and others so you can make every post mean something and move things along!
  • Seriously, for real, 100%. Just talk to me and I will give you bits to describe that will move the plot along so things are always happening. This should go without saying, but I'm giving you a lot of power by telling you a piece of what happens next. I'm not the kind of GM who's gonna rub her grubby little mitts and hide all her secrets away. I'm gonna tell you what you can do to keep the story moving when I'm not making a plot advancement post, because it not only gives you agency and makes your posts important to read beyond them being your character moments which are equally important, but they make it so I don't have to write them, which is equally fun because it makes the storytelling more collaborative even though I'm the conductor.





TORTUGA


From Eddystrip to Sablegrey, the flotsam sprawl of the Roving Country spreads its tetanus-ridden floorboards across six square miles of open Ocean, run not by some gold-laced hegemony, knuckling fingers full of rings and dining upon feasts while their peasantry starves, but rather a body of academics affectionately referred to as the ‘Libertarchy.’ Sponsored by the dreadlords, small academies dedicated to the study of all the things that keep Tortuga afloat—specialties ranging from navigation to commercial fishing to decidology, the study of Rot. While the literacy rate remains low—somewhere around 70% compared to the rest of the world’s average of 85%—this is more evidence of its original status as a refugee colony than it is a lack of desire for education. Because Rot peasantry were seldom educated to begin with, it is better to look at the sharp increase in literacy between generations, going from an average of 40% to an average of 90%, with third generation Tortugans too young to measure with any degree of accuracy. With its 50th anniversary but a year away, Tortuga is a success story of man’s tenacity and ingenuity, and the power of cooperation. The dreadlords—making up the equivalent of aristocracy merely in terms of their wealth—generally sit at odds with one another, speaking in hours-long debates over how best to run Tortuga, but all eight—representing seven of the fifteen races endemic to Rhau—harbor a vested interest in investing in safe harbor.

The eight dreadlords—Barbary, DuGongue, Niwonhe, Vargle, Perring, Hondlesby, Ginkou, and Mansu. Hailing from all corners of the Ocean, these eight were locked in bitter combat during the Plague Wars, before realizing that as nations rose and fell in bitter conflict, they had no reason to meet the same end. Colluding instead to foster a “better” nation, they first attempted to capture one of the smaller continents, before realizing the fatal flaw: it was all too easy to shut off or clip the Chain. So instead, they held the fishing villages captive, before a representative from the newly-founded Hye came to explain the situation to the well-armed cadre of cutthroats. This was Professor Ngwedi, the founder of the academy of Tortuga, and the architect for the Glory-Rot that would come to be its eternally floating base. Ngwedi was in her twenties at the time, and recalls fondly the first time she set out upon the open sea, describing it in The Fondness of Piracy, (published 662 PR, at 71) her autobiography, thus:

”At first brush, I was terrified. Barbary stood out among even the rest, a woman of singular ambition who had given up both arms in pursuit of her goal. She was terrifying. Her shoulders were covered in Rust, and I remember wondering how a creature who lived in such terrible agony could stand with her back so straight, her face so firm, her eyes… So kind. I came to find that she shared a dream and a demeanor that all of the great pirates shared: a home for the homeless, a place for the displaced. I could not help but respect that, to respect their will, determination, and earnest souls. Perhaps their methods seem cruel, but the care of their research, the sleepless nights I’d see Ginkou toiling over the coffers, their fingers raw from mold-Rot, a vestige of their former life… I am permanently convinced that black deeds can be done by good hearts in pursuit of a finer goal.”

The first Chaintower would complete construction less than a year after Professor Ngwedi availed the dreadlords of Tortuga of her services. Constructed with the Glory-Rot, a non-infectious concoction of Rot strains studied in Hye and the dead kingdom that preceded it, the Chaintower reached high into the heavens, close enough to launch raiding parties to continents in low orbit.

Within the span of ten years, Tortuga had blossomed to a square mile of commerce and freedom, where people could live their lives with relative comfort so long as they gave back to the blossoming community. This created unfortunate issues with those so consumed by Rot that they were unable to work, but even then, a gruesome ecosystem emerged: if they could not assist in life, then Tortuga would give them shelter until death, and use their bodies as grist for the Glory-Rot that kept the Ocean at bay. Another decade passed. Freshwater—a scarce resource at the best of times—had become difficult to source for Tortugans, as the heavy rainfall present near the base of the Sun’s pillars was difficult to traverse, even if it yielded a great deal of potable water. Instead of braving the torrent month after month, Hyean academics—led by the renowned Dr. Ngwedi—set to work devising methods of stealing water away from continental aquifers from beneath, settling on an easy-to-set-up reservoir from which they could refuel. While their main aquifer—nestled squarely beneath the Papacy of Law’s mainland—remains easily accessible, the other nations have caught on to their secret pipelines and have set about researching countermeasures. To this day they remain undisturbed, but Frasnost has begun work on a flying machine that threatens to rule the skies, placing Tortuga’s freshwater supply on a time limit.

As Tortuga grew over the years, the dreadlords sponsored a small legion of academics at the behest of Dr. Ngwedi, in an effort to fashion curricula for the youth and provide trades for those uninterested in dedicating themselves to learning their letters so late in life. Chief among these academies was the Academy of Navigation, whose focus was entirely on accurately reading the seascape, the surrounding continents, and the positions of the pillars to assess one’s place in the world.

Tortuga’s dreadlords took special interest in the methods of its pedagogy, taking great pains to bring deeper understanding and acumen to their future generations. Many of the dreadlords themselves have retired from piracy, but their crews still act on their behalf, robbing the barges of the nobles and liberating the Rot-addled men and women that toil still in indentured servitude.

The final passage in Dr. Ngwedi’s The Fondness of Piracy reads thus:
”In Tortuga, work is no longer a sacrifice. It’s a public good. Even if the locals are irascible and sharp-edged, they’re kind. I’ve seen sahagi play with hodnan, I’ve seen pinians have their own walkways built on guiderails, and even the largest bulbor respects that little space. Old oningen watch aridine children dance and sing with wonder in their eyes—not hate. I think we all see a future where we don’t have to rely on Rot anymore. That’s when I see hate, when I see anger in the faces of Tortuga. Everyone has lost someone to the Rot. Lost parts of themselves. They’re tired of the fighting. The young are rowdier than ever, and the second generation is furious at one nation or another, but in the end, we’re all here because there isn’t anywhere else that’s safe for people like us. For outsiders, visionaries.

For pirates.”





CURRENT AFFAIRS


Tortuga has made a name for itself as the epicenter of the free world. Maintaining a close relationship with the pinian democracy of Hye, it has for the past 50 years enjoyed a steady flow of innovation and progress, drawing ire from Hye’s neighbors, the Camiran States and Pedraugh. The pressure of maintaining aspish good graces is no difficult task—Dreadqueen Barbary has become something of a cultural icon in her own right—but Pedraugh’s parent state, the Lawlands, has always been a contentious sort and moreso in the face of concepts they consider ‘indecent,’ like ‘healthcare’ and ‘respecting the working class.’ The Camir territory of Raskitt have been particularly covetous of their trade routes with Hye’s research prefecture, Frasnost, and have set about condemning the Hyeans for their favoritism of a ‘pirate colony’ despite their disposition towards Tortuga’s primary ideological nemeses, the Lawlands and the reclusive ariadi aristocracy of Rebonaude.

The once-great nation of Silpoca, the homeland of hodnan, has fallen into civil war, with the onin sharing their support for the similarly-minded Glimden, which has physically split itself from the Silpocan mainland and enjoyed close neighborship with the quiet and self-interested archipelago of Honmato. This occurred in the wake of Silpoca opening its borders in solidarity with Hye, Camir, and the bulboran Frecore, countries that had already adopted other races but were now ready to do so on a grand scale. This era of cultural trade has heralded a fresh distaste for the alfin papacy, placing the once-supreme Lawlands under the tremendous pressure of a newfound international unity. While Frecore has for the most part managed to soothe the mustine into accepting Tortuga—which has long brokered a harmonious relationship with the profit-minded oligarchs, despite their significant political differences—the Free Lands of Raskitt have been in close communication with their Camiran neighbor of Kamdi, and their collective distaste has turned Camir itself into something of a powder keg.

In these tense post-war times, with diplomacy hanging by a thread, the collective nations have once again turned towards the Ocean—able now to explore its depths using all manner of wonderful devices, from the freshly-designed and hellishly expensive submarine cruiser, courtesy of the metal-rich nation of Ablisque, now interested in the goings-on of the world around them—to the promising flying machines of Frasnost, set to change the world with the freedom of flight the pinians have long enjoyed. Though the times are changing, and curiosities like Tortuga hang delicately in the balance of public opinion, this is an age of piracy like none other.

Braving new lands above and dowsing the depths for ruins and secrets alike, Tortuga dances a delicate waltz, picking away at the weakened nation of the Lawlands one raided ship at a time, with their eyes set on liberation; however, not all ships fly a Tortugan flag, and menace the seas with impunity, seeking only to amass the wealth to survive these times where flores are tight and the waters muddy with Rot.





RACES




ROT




COUNTRIES




CHARACTER SHEET


Note: PM all Character Sheets directly to me for an approval conversation. Format them however you please so long as it isn't an eyesore.

Name: [What do we call you? This does not have to be your full name. It can be a moniker when you post it, but I need to know.]

Gender: [MAY BE KEPT PRIVATE IF NOT READILY APPARENT. Pronouns are helpful if they're non-binary, but not necessary otherwise.]

Age: [MAY BE KEPT PRIVATE. A century is end-of-life in general unless you're a hinky little Rotter doing hinky little Rot shit.]

Race: [Which of the races are you? Are you a strange subspecies (ask me about your favorite idea and we'll talk shop!)?]

Profession: [Pirate? Academic? Drunk? What do you even do for a living?]

Origin: [MAY BE KEPT PRIVATE, but when you PM this to me I need to know.]

Skills / Rot: [MAY BE KEPT PARTIALLY PRIVATE, but you need to tell people at least two or three things and also if your Rot is visible, if you already have any.]

Appearance: [Unless I drew it myself (which I'll do! I could use the cash), you're probably going to need to get descriptive if you're using a faceclaim thanks to how these races are.]

Background: [This can be long-form or we can just talk for a while until I'm satisfied you know your character, in which case I'll ask you to summarize for both our sakes. KEEP PRIVATE.]

Goals: [MAY BE KEPT PRIVATE. What's your dream? What's your plan? Whether it's making it to your next meal or becoming a world-renowned pirate chef sexcapadist, let me know.]




That's it! Hit the Discord! Ask questions! You can look forward to sketches of the races and other cool stuff!
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Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by CorrosiveCherri
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CorrosiveCherri Tripping the Light Fantsapphstic

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Hey-ho and welcome! Pleasure to meet y'all. Make sure to post here with your interest and get in on that sweet sweet Discord! It's easier for question fielding and getting to know each other.
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Dark Cloud
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Dark Cloud 💀Vibin' beyond the Veil💀

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@CorrosiveCherri Do you require people to use a Discord? If so I'm not interested. If not yo ho and I'll have me self a bottle of yer finest grog!
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by CorrosiveCherri
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CorrosiveCherri Tripping the Light Fantsapphstic

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@Blackmist16 It's pretty much necessary, but if you're willing to take extra pains to keep in touch with your crew by way of PM and you can deal with big ol' PM chains hashing out your character and such, I'm happy to oblige someone who's really into the setting!
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Dark Cloud 💀Vibin' beyond the Veil💀

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@CorrosiveCherri Well I don't really want it to be hassle for everyone else, I'm just unable to use discord causd it won't work on the platform I'm currently using.
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CorrosiveCherri Tripping the Light Fantsapphstic

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@Blackmist16 Yeah, unfortunately it's a bit of a must just to keep the pace and have a spot for fielding questions that would otherwise require short, not-very-relevant posts to explain and give each 'crew' their own spot to talk in as well as an easy way to reach one another. If this were a Persistent World roleplay it might be a different story, but it's an improvise-adapt-overcome situation! ;~;
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Tuujaimaa
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Tuujaimaa The Saint of Splendour

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I am here to announce my illustrious presence.

Or something like that, I don't know.
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by CorrosiveCherri
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CorrosiveCherri Tripping the Light Fantsapphstic

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Hey y'all, we're still very much alive! A few people are hanging in the Discord right now, you should definitely come and say hi, even if you're not sure if you want to join.
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