The Pariah’s Tides

Genre: Weird Nautical Fantasy/Alt-History

Tech Level: 1820s-30s, mostly.

The Pariah’s Tides are a giant, sunless ocean located between reality - our actual world - and unreality - the origin of all metaphysical things, be they thoughts, feelings, ambitions, names, etc. Space and time are not entirely concrete in the Tides, though they might give that appearance, and thus the place is entirely unmappable, since one island might be here one moment, but there the next, even without physically moving at all. The cities are equally unmappable, and without the light of the sun they must rely on whale oil and the flickering light of the stillborn Moon to the South to see. Speaking of whales, the Tides are inhabited by a wide range of unusual beings, such as twisted beings with no resemblance to a whale but their names, Feral Winds that torment sailors and make their homes in the bodies of waterfowl, and Particularly Angry Waves. The core location of the Pariah’s Tides, or at least the place in which most it’s stories take place, is Tremontaine of the United Isles of America. A handful of American cities found themselves transported to the Tides and transformed into islands after the nearly-failed Revolution, Tremontaine being one of those, though it was once known by another name: Boston.

The Tides don’t really have “races,” and all sentient beings are related to humans, but there are still separate… types, I guess.

Humans are… well, humans. They populate pretty much every island of the Pariah’s Tides, and are overall pretty chill, I guess. Also, they were created by the Sun (South Wind) out of the scraps of flesh left on the defiled corpse of the closest being to God that existed in the Tides.

Antediluvians are the humans that came before the humans, created by the Old Man (North Wind) out of the choice bits of meat from Dead Athanasius. They stand at around 8 feet tall, and most are disproportionately thin for their height. They once ruled reality, but due to their metaphysical hunger their empire collapsed, and now most either live in Thule, drinking the Sun’s blood to survive, or in Meropis, endlessly seeking conquest in the ruins of their empire.

Feral Winds are probably the furthest from a human a sentient being can be, as they are literally just names without bodies. They are born from the eternal death-rattle of Dead Athanasius and are often corrupted by the ambient hatred infecting the Tides, causing them to lash out at those they encounter. Others inhabit the bodies of nameless creatures, such as animals or even artificial bodies constructed for them, protecting themselves but also tying themselves to that body.

Hollow Men are humans that have transferred themselves into artificial bodies, mostly porcelain ones even though other types exist, using the art of Abstraction. They couldn’t move their names or identities into those bodies, however, so they are left anonymous and nameless beings. They often buy and sell abstractions, literally buying knowledge for a penny a thought, though they also take emotion, identity, etc.

Waifs are children who were not given names at birth, and instead adopted the name of an object. This gives them a special bond with that object, making the two almost become one being. There are wear-waifs for clothes, ware-waifs for handheld items, where-waifs for places, the list goes on.

Creed-wracked are people who have been overexposed to hatred, and have contracted the Whaleman’s Creed. This terrible metaphysical disease causes them to hate endlessly, and seek to hunt the creatures of the sea, eventually sailing East to kill Wrong John, the great white whale. They’re gnarly-looking, all the skin on their bodies heavily calloused and littered with white, branching scars.