The Razor Coast
Into the Razor
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 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 the fearsome tribes of monsters lurking just beyond the tree line.Yet still the colonists come by the hundreds lured to the coast’s riches: its kava, its jocas fruit and koa wood, to name a few. All treasures worth twice their weight in gold and all ripe for the picking along the Razor. Mossy placards emblazoned with 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.—Reiker Glassgrinder, accredited naturalist of the Guild of Cartographers and Explorers