Jun 26, 2025 11:22 am
EASTPORT
Pirates have braved the Sea of Fear long before others dared to leave sight of dry land for fear of being torn apart by the monsters of the deep. When not prowling the waters for plunder, the pirates make their port of call Eastport, a ramshackle city that spreads across the peninsula forming the southern boundary of Gauntlet Bay. Eastport has burned to the ground a dozen times, been overrun by invaders, and suffered plagues that killed half the population in a single season, but no matter the hardship, the city claws its way back, time and time again.
Eastport’s long, sordid history shows in its lack of plan or organization. The buildings, many of which have been built from salvage and detritus, show scorch marks and old splashes of blood, and are stabbed with arrows and shot up by bullets and musket balls. Gibbets and crow cages are everywhere, the contents rotting until reduced to bones—city law forbids anyone from interfering with people confined in these ways. Pirates, bandits, deserters, vagabonds, freaks, and outcasts roam the crooked streets.
Farms cover the land west of Eastport, where peasants toil to grow the grains and crops needed to feed the city. Farmers face plenty of hardships and their techniques tend to be wasteful, causing food shortages all the time. But the people answer to no one and have the freedom to do whatever they wish.
A council of seven retired pirate captains share the burden of ruling the city. Alliances shift between them often, as do what pass for laws in the city. Eastport frowns on violence and theft, but punishments are light unless the aggrieved party makes a sufficient donation to the constables. Justice, when dispensed, solves problems by executing the accused, typically after a sham trial.
People are as filthy as the city in which they live; everything and everyone is coated in a thin patina of grease. Clear social divisions show in dress—the wealthiest members of Eastport society wear elaborate, fanciful garb as one might expect of aristocrats, while the rest make do with lightweight clothing: loose shirts, wide-leg trousers, or long swirling skirts. Richer Eastporters ornament their bodies with gold and jewelry, while the poor might don colorful scarves. Since sanitation is poor, wealthier people wear shoes with high heels and thick soles to keep their feet out of the muck, while the poor make do with wooden sandals that have wooden blocks for soles.
For its colors, the city uses a red winged hourglass on a black background.
Pirates have braved the Sea of Fear long before others dared to leave sight of dry land for fear of being torn apart by the monsters of the deep. When not prowling the waters for plunder, the pirates make their port of call Eastport, a ramshackle city that spreads across the peninsula forming the southern boundary of Gauntlet Bay. Eastport has burned to the ground a dozen times, been overrun by invaders, and suffered plagues that killed half the population in a single season, but no matter the hardship, the city claws its way back, time and time again.
Eastport’s long, sordid history shows in its lack of plan or organization. The buildings, many of which have been built from salvage and detritus, show scorch marks and old splashes of blood, and are stabbed with arrows and shot up by bullets and musket balls. Gibbets and crow cages are everywhere, the contents rotting until reduced to bones—city law forbids anyone from interfering with people confined in these ways. Pirates, bandits, deserters, vagabonds, freaks, and outcasts roam the crooked streets.
Farms cover the land west of Eastport, where peasants toil to grow the grains and crops needed to feed the city. Farmers face plenty of hardships and their techniques tend to be wasteful, causing food shortages all the time. But the people answer to no one and have the freedom to do whatever they wish.
A council of seven retired pirate captains share the burden of ruling the city. Alliances shift between them often, as do what pass for laws in the city. Eastport frowns on violence and theft, but punishments are light unless the aggrieved party makes a sufficient donation to the constables. Justice, when dispensed, solves problems by executing the accused, typically after a sham trial.
People are as filthy as the city in which they live; everything and everyone is coated in a thin patina of grease. Clear social divisions show in dress—the wealthiest members of Eastport society wear elaborate, fanciful garb as one might expect of aristocrats, while the rest make do with lightweight clothing: loose shirts, wide-leg trousers, or long swirling skirts. Richer Eastporters ornament their bodies with gold and jewelry, while the poor might don colorful scarves. Since sanitation is poor, wealthier people wear shoes with high heels and thick soles to keep their feet out of the muck, while the poor make do with wooden sandals that have wooden blocks for soles.
For its colors, the city uses a red winged hourglass on a black background.