The Treaty-Eater
DEF 10BLOOD 16WOUNDS 3MORALE 11
Attack: Signature talons, 1d6+2
Special: Born from broken oaths; it grows a new tooth for every treaty violated within a day's ride. Anyone who has broken a sworn word takes +1d6 from its attacks.
Chapter I — The Pitch
The Iron Line Reached the Ocean. The Ocean Was Already Occupied.
The rail barons hammered the Iron Line west until the land ran out, and there they found a harbor of gray fog and a gate standing in the water that no company built. Then the ships came — and the Meridian learned that ghosts can buy passage too.
Ten thousand workers crossed the water from the Old Empires to cut the Combine's tunnels and lay its track. They brought funeral customs older than the railroad's whole civilization, sword schools with one student left, wards written in cinnabar, and debts that death does not cancel. Their dead were promised passage home. The Combine's ledgers say otherwise. The Bone Wharf grows more crowded every season.
Inland, the Iron Line keeps cutting the Old Roads — the spirit-paths the first peoples of the Meridian have kept, tolled, and guarded since before anything had a deed. Every mile of track laid across an old road is a door wedged open. The Road-Keepers are running out of patience, and the roads are running out of keepers.
And at the sunset edge of every map, in the gray water past Grayjoss harbor, the Gate stands. It was there before the ships. It was there before the roads. Lately, at low tide, it has started standing open.
Folklore with teeth, still. This expansion follows the core book's rule: living cultures are not monster manuals. The peoples, orders, spirits, and taboos here are fictional creations that rhyme with history and folklore rather than copying anything sacred. The horror of the Sunset Gate is exclusion laws, stolen wages, unshipped bones, broken treaties, and companies that price human beings by the mile of track — never the people those things were done to.
What This Book Adds
One new region and the roads beneath the old ones, four factions, formal Showdown rules for sun-high duels, eight new Callings, ten new Ways (talents), new hexes and rites, eight monsters, gear from two coasts, and two towns that should not be on the itinerary. Everything runs on the core rules: 2d6 + Attribute, Boons and Banes, Blood, Nerve, and Doom.
Chapter II — The Land & the Water
The Sundown Coast & the Old Roads
The Sundown Coast
A seventh region of the Meridian: cold gray harbors, fog that arrives on schedule and leaves when it pleases, cannery towns, clipper wrecks, and shrines to sea-officials nobody living has met. Its heart is Grayjoss, the port city — the Paper Quarter with ward-slips on every lintel, the Bone Wharf where coffins wait for ships home, and joss-smoke thick enough to hide a murder or a miracle.
Offshore, visible from every window that faces west, stands the Sunset Gate: two pillars and a lintel of black stone rising from the water. No nation claims it. Boats that pass through it in daylight arrive where they meant to go. Boats that pass through at low tide arrive somewhere, and some of them arrive back.
The Old Roads
Beneath and beside the wagon trails run the Old Roads — spirit-paths kept by the first peoples of the Meridian since before maps. In this book the keepers are the fictional Standing Rain and Antler Moon nations of the Bitterroot Covenant: not a monolith, not always in agreement, and not obligated to like you.
The roads have rules. Every road has a toll — a song, a silence, a pinch of tobacco, a true name, a year of luck. Pay it and the road is faster, safer, and older than anything hunting you. Skip it and the road remembers. The Iron Line has cut forty-one old roads with track. Forty-one doors, wedged open, whistling.
| d6 | Omen |
|---|---|
| 1 | The fog comes in walking-speed, and something in it keeps pace. |
| 2 | A funeral procession with too many coffins and no mourners' faces. |
| 3 | Ward-slips on every door in town have been rewritten overnight, in better handwriting. |
| 4 | A ship at anchor that was wrecked, by name, eleven years ago. |
| 5 | Foxfire on the headland, arranged like a sentence. |
| 6 | The Gate stands open at low tide. Something is being polite about coming through. |
| d6 | The Road Wants |
|---|---|
| 1 | A song your mother sang, sung all the way through, correctly. |
| 2 | Silence until the next water crossing. Total. Even for pain. |
| 3 | Something you were going to eat, left whole at the marker stone. |
| 4 | One true answer to one question the road asks. It asks good ones. |
| 5 | Your name, held in trust until you return by the same road. |
| 6 | Blood freely given — 1 Blood — or a grudge freely given up. |
“No nation claims the Gate. The Gate has never needed claiming. It has always been the one doing the collecting.”— Harbormaster's ledger, Grayjoss, final entry
Chapter III — Powers of the Coast & Roads
Four New Hands at the Table
The Paper Lantern Benevolent Society
Part workers' union, part burial society, part exorcist guild. They write the wards that keep Grayjoss standing, smuggle the bones of dead workers home past Combine customs, and keep a ledger of every wage the railroad ever stole. The ledger is said to be a relic now. It underlines names by itself.
The Folded Blade
The last students of a sword school that crossed the ocean chasing its greatest pupil — who now works for the Meridian Rail Combine as its executioner, called only the Drawn Sword. The order hunts him, hires out to eat, and keeps one rule: the blade is drawn once, or not at all.
The Drowned Fleet
Every ship that sank owing passage sails again under the Drowned Magistrate, a dead official who audits the living. The Fleet collects unpaid fares, unshipped bones, and unkept promises — with interest, compounding, in years of life. It is scrupulously lawful. That is the horrifying part.
The Road-Keepers
Wardens of the Standing Rain and Antler Moon nations who maintain the Old Roads: collecting tolls, repairing markers, sealing what leaks from cut roads, and deciding — case by case, argument by argument — whether outsiders get to use the fastest, oldest ways in the Meridian. Some keepers trade. Some seal roads behind them. All of them are tired of the Iron Line.
Chapter IV — New Rules
Showdowns: The Long Noon
When two people agree — with words, or just by stopping in the street — that only one of them is walking away, the normal combat rules pause. A Showdown has three beats. Blades and guns both qualify. So, on the Sundown Coast, do certain arguments.
The Stare
Opposed 2d6 + Presence. The loser flinches inside and takes a Bane on the Draw. Bystanders who have never seen a Showdown roll Nerve against 8. On a tie, a tumbleweed, a temple bell, or a gull makes the town wait.
The Draw
Opposed 2d6 + Quick. The winner acts first. A holstered gun uses the Quick Draw rules; a sheathed blade against a Close opponent may Quick Draw too (see the Twice-Named Blade). Anyone who draws early, before the Stare resolves, gains a Boon here — and gains +1 Doom, because the Meridian watches Showdowns and hates a cheat.
The Cut
The winner of the Draw attacks with +1 damage. If they roll a Devil's Grin during a Showdown, they may choose: the shot lands, or the loser's weapon, hat, or nerve is taken instead — the loser drops to 0 Nerve on the spot, unhurt and finished. Then, if anyone is still standing and still willing, normal combat begins.
Grudges
Any character may carry one named Grudge at a time — a person or creature owed a reckoning. You have +1 to damage against your Grudge; your Grudge has +1 to damage against you. The Meridian likes a story with an ending: if your Grudge dies by any hand other than yours or its own, gain +1 Doom as the story sours in you.
Chapter V — Eight New Callings
Who Came Through the Gate
Eight new Callings built on the core rules: a Blood bonus, starting gear, and features at Levels 1, 3, and 5. They stand beside the original thirty — a Twice-Named Blade can ride with a Gallows Marshal and a Dust Witch, and probably should.
New Calling No. 01 of 08
Twice-Named Blade
A sword saint who buried one name across the sea and carries the other like a drawn breath.
Starting GearTemple-forged long blade, traveling clothes, whetstone, the old name written and sealed.
Level 1
Drawn Lightning
You may Quick Draw with a sheathed blade against a Close enemy. On 10+, the strike also deals +1 damage.
Level 3
Cut What Cannot Be Cut
Once per combat, your blade counts as magical and can strike spirits, shadows, hexes in flight, and things without bodies.
Level 5
One Breath, One Cut
Once per session, declare a perfect cut against one enemy: both of you roll 2d6 + Quick. The winner deals double damage, and everything else stops to watch.
New Calling No. 02 of 08
Paper Warden
A ward-scribe of the Lantern Society: brush, cinnabar, and handwriting that things respect.
Starting GearBrush and cinnabar ink, blank slips, lantern, hidden knife.
Level 1
Written Wards
With one minute, write a slip that acts as a salt line across one door, window, coffin lid, or mouth.
Level 3
The Word Burns
Slap a slip onto a creature (2d6 + Quick vs Defense). It takes 1d6, and if it is a spirit or undead, it has a Bane on its next turn.
Level 5
Hundredfold Copy
Once per session, every ward you have written this session flares at once: all warded thresholds hold for the scene, and everyone sheltering behind one regains 1d6 Nerve.
New Calling No. 03 of 08
Bone-Carrier
Carries the unshipped dead home on a back-frame, one ledger page at a time.
Starting GearBone box on a back-frame, funeral bell, ledger of names, shotgun.
Level 1
The Owed Dead
Ghosts of workers, immigrants, and the unburied will parley with you before harming you. Usually.
Level 3
Speak the Ledger
Once per session, read a name from your ledger aloud. That spirit answers one question or performs one small task, then rests easier.
Level 5
Procession
Once per session, the dead you carry rise as an honor guard for one scene. Enemies who see them must roll Nerve against 10 or give way.
New Calling No. 04 of 08
Fox-Married
A gambler who wed one of the Meridian's ember foxes. The luck is real. So is the ledger.
Starting GearWedding token, fine coat, derringer, a debt you do not discuss.
Level 1
My Spouse's Luck
Once per session, reroll any roll. Somewhere, your spouse collects something of yours in exchange. You find out later.
Level 3
Borrowed Fire
Conjure small cold foxfire lights, and gain a Boon to notice lies told to you after dark.
Level 5
The Ninth Favor
Once per session, an attack that would hit you misses instead as something red-gold blurs past. Gain +1 Doom. Do not say thank you out loud.
New Calling No. 05 of 08
Road-Keeper
A Covenant warden of the Old Roads: toll-taker, gate-closer, the law of paths older than deeds.
Starting GearRoad tokens, rifle or bow, staff cut from a boundary tree, a map that argues.
Level 1
Right of Way
You always know when you stand on an old road, what its toll is, and whether it has been paid.
Level 3
Close the Gate Behind You
Once per session, seal a path, door, ford, or crossing behind your party for a scene. Pursuit must go around.
Level 5
The Long Way Home
Once per session, lead the party a full day's distance in an hour by roads no rail map shows. Everyone pays a small toll: 1 Nerve, a memory, or something loved.
New Calling No. 06 of 08
Coup Rider
A rider of a warrior society who counts touches, not kills, and whose stories do the rest.
Starting GearHorse, lance or war club, honor cords, the marks of a fictional band.
Level 1
First Touch
Move and touch an enemy without harming it (2d6 + Quick vs Defense). Gain a Boon on all rolls against it until dawn, and it must test Morale the first time it is hurt.
Level 3
Ride Through Lead
While mounted and moving, ranged attacks against you take a Bane.
Level 5
A Story Worth Telling
Once per session, when you touch a monster and live, everyone who saw it regains 1d6 Nerve, and the monster must immediately roll Morale against the legend you just started.
New Calling No. 07 of 08
Powder Alchemist
A firework chemist of the rail camps: festival colors, tunnel math, and controlled disrespect for physics.
Starting GearRocket satchel, fuse spool, burn scars, smoked goggles.
Level 1
Festival Arsenal
Start each session with three fireworks. Each one flashes (blind), screams (fear or signal), or bursts (1d6 to everything Close). Decide when lit.
Level 3
Dragon's Breath Load
Once per combat, load any firearm with a burning shot: +1d6 damage, and it sets fire to things that can burn.
Level 5
The Big One
Once per session, assemble a rocket that levels a wall, drops a bridge, or shakes a monster's grip on the world: 2d6 damage, doubled against spirits and things that should not be here.
New Calling No. 08 of 08
Gravetide Fisher
Fishes the drowned coast for what the water keeps: bodies, cargo, ghosts, mistakes.
Starting GearHooked pole, net woven with coffin nails, oilskins, storm lantern.
Level 1
Read the Wake
Boon to notice what moves under water, under fog, or under floorboards near water.
Level 3
Hook the Drowned
Your hook can catch and hold spirits of the drowned (2d6 + Might vs Defense). A held spirit can be questioned, dragged, or handed a fare token.
Level 5
The Tide Owes Me
Once per session, pull something the party needs from any water: a body, a weapon, a strongbox, a survivor, or somebody else's mistake.
“Wards are not walls. A ward is a letter, addressed to something, asking nicely. Everything depends on the handwriting.”— Paper Lantern Society, apprentice's primer
Chapter VI — New Ways
Ten New Talents
Ways are General Talents by another road. Take them at creation or through leveling, exactly as the core book allows.
| Way | Effect |
|---|---|
| Sea Legs | Boon on decks, rigging, docks, and anything that pitches or rolls. |
| Two Tongues | You speak the trade languages of the coast and the roads. Boon when translating, or when pretending you cannot. |
| Duelist's Calm | In a Showdown, you win the Stare on ties. |
| Ghost Etiquette | Boon when parleying with spirits whose customs you have taken the trouble to learn. |
| Quiet Ritual | Once per day, a properly shared pot of tea restores 1 Nerve to everyone who sits for the whole pot. |
| Way | Effect |
|---|---|
| Powder Fingers | Ignore the first fumble each session with fireworks, fuses, or dynamite. |
| Horse Whistle | Your mount comes when called, even through fear, fire, or worse. |
| Inked Ward | A ward written into your skin: reduce occult damage by 1. |
| Long Memory of Water | Once per session, reroll any roll made in, on, or against water. |
| Debtless | Boon to resist supernatural bargains, and curses that travel along debts. |
Chapter VII — Hexes & Rites of Two Coasts
Written, Sung, Knotted, Paid
These use the core magic rules: 2d6 + Weird for hexes, slow costly Rites for the big work. On Snake Eyes, the usual price — +1 Doom and a backlash with your name on it.
New Hexes
Paper Crane MessengerFold a message into a crane. It flies to a person whose full name you write inside, and speaks nine words in your voice.
Salt the WakeScatter salt behind a boat, wagon, or party. For one scene, spirits cannot follow across your trail.
Foxfire LanternsCall up cold ghost-lights: lead a pursuer astray, mark a path, or make a dark room lie about its exits.
Ancestor at the ElbowInvite a dead expert to guide your hands. Gain a Boon on one craft, surgery, or repair roll. They critique.
Smoke Answers SmokeBurn incense and ask the nearest spirit of place one yes-or-no question. The smoke bends toward the truth. Usually.
Hundred KnotsTie a curse or a hex aimed at you into a knotted cord. Cut the cord later to release it — somewhere else, at someone else.
Iron Horse HushOne engine, one mile, no sound. Rail Wights hate this hex specifically and personally.
Red ThreadTie a red thread to a person or thing. Until dawn you know its direction and roughly how far. It knows something is tied to it.
New Rites
Send the Bones HomeLay an unshipped worker's spirit: the true ledger of their wages, a sea-fare token, their name spoken by someone who owes them.
Open the Old RoadRoad tokens, the keeper's leave, the toll paid in advance, and a song that does not stop until the destination.
Feed the GateHold the Sunset Gate shut for one season. The cost is real, agreed in advance, and never money. The Gate is patient and eats appreciation.
The UnwitnessingA town agrees to forget a horror by name for a year and a day: three drummers, cold ash on every threshold, no one speaks after dark. Starved of its story, the thing weakens. So does the town's memory of why the drummers matter.
“The Fleet is scrupulously lawful. Read your ticket. Read it twice. The fine print compounds.”— Advice nailed to the Bone Wharf
Chapter VIII — Monsters
What Came Through, What Was Made Here
Same simple stats as the core book. Special is still the awful part.
The Unbending Dead
DEF 8BLOOD 8WOUNDS 1MORALE 9
Attack: Rigid grip, 1d6+1
Special: Corpses shipped in company-stamped coffins, hopping stiff-limbed after unpaid passage. They cannot bend, cannot climb, and stop dead at a genuine ward-slip pressed to the brow. They ride freight cars for free now.
The Drowned Magistrate
DEF 11BLOOD 18WOUNDS 3MORALE 12
Attack: Verdict cane, 2d6
Special: Anyone who has ever skipped a fare, a debt, or a funeral must obey one lawful-sounding order from him per scene. He never raises his voice. He has never needed to.
Fox of Nine Regrets
DEF 12BLOOD 14WOUNDS 3MORALE 10
Attack: Bite, 1d6+2
Special: Each tail is a regret it has collected. It will trade one true answer for one of yours, taken bodily — lose 1d6 Nerve and one memory you'd rather have kept.
The Blank Bride
DEF 9BLOOD 10WOUNDS 2MORALE 9
Attack: Smoothing touch, 1d6
Special: A woman on the fog road with no face at all. Describe her wrongly afterward and your own reflection begins to smooth — Nerve roll against 10 each time you check a mirror.
Gunpowder Choir
DEF 8BLOOD 12WOUNDS 2MORALE 8
Attack: Concussion, 1d6 to everyone Close
Special: The ghosts of a tunnel blast that was cheaper than a warning whistle. They re-detonate at the worst moment. Open flame makes them scream the current addresses of company men.
The Heat Widow
DEF 9BLOOD 12WOUNDS 2MORALE 10
Attack: Parasol spike, 1d6+1
Special: A mirage woman offering shade on the noon road. Accept it and wake at midnight, miles off the trail, thirsty, and marked — +1 Doom and she knows your face now.
The Paper Tiger
DEF 10BLOOD 15WOUNDS 3MORALE 11
Attack: Claws, 2d6
Special: A guardian ward grown feral after its temple burned. Bullets pass through with a papery sigh. It is harmed only by water, ash, or having its maker's name — written in its stripes — read aloud.
Chapter IX — Gear & Towns
What the Ships Brought, What the Roads Sell
Weapons of Two Coasts
| Weapon | Damage | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Temple-forged long blade | 1d6+1 | May Quick Draw at Close range |
| Paired short blade | 1d6−1 | Concealable; +1 Defense while parrying with it |
| Hooked pole | 1d6 | Reach; can trip, snag, or fish |
| Coup lance | 1d6+1 | Mounted only; may touch instead of harm |
| War club | 1d6 | On a Devil's Grin, the target is also dazed |
| Rocket bundle | 2d6 | Area, unmistakable, glorious, illegal |
Trade Goods & Oddments
| Item | Cost | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Ward-slips, bundle of five | 5 silver | Each acts as a salt line on one threshold |
| Joss bundle | 2 silver | Boon on the camp action to reduce Doom |
| Red thread spool | 1 silver | Component for the Red Thread hex; also sewing |
| Sea-fare token | 25 silver | One dead passenger's passage home, honored by the Fleet |
| Road token | Not sold | Earned from a Road-Keeper; one toll, pre-paid |
| Bone flute | 10 silver | The drowned surface to listen. Nothing promises they leave. |
Two Towns Off the Itinerary
Grayjoss — The port. Visible problem: the Gate stands open at low tide. Hidden sin: the harbormaster has been selling the Fleet the names of debtors. Superstition: never whistle on the Bone Wharf — it reads as hailing a ship. The person lying: the Combine's customs officer, who signs empty coffins home and sells what should have been inside. Nobody goes after dark to the drydock where the ward-slips face inward.
Two-Sun Crossing — A rail town built exactly where the Iron Line cuts the oldest road in the Meridian. Twice a year, for one long noon, two suns stand in the sky and every shadow points at the church. The Road-Keepers offer, once a season, to close the door for good — their price is the town moving nine miles east. The mayor keeps voting it down. The mayor's shadow votes with him, a heartbeat late.