Human
Short-lived and restless, humans fill the gaslit cities between the old kingdoms. What they lack in gifts they make up for in ambition, bargains and sheer stubbornness.
The codex
Everything a character can be, as the game server published it (updated Oct 24, 2026, 05:45 MSK).
Short-lived and restless, humans fill the gaslit cities between the old kingdoms. What they lack in gifts they make up for in ambition, bargains and sheer stubbornness.
Forge-clans of the deep halls, who carve runes into steam engines and swear oaths on their anvils. They read stone the way others read faces.
Heirs of a fallen arcane empire, patient as old trees. Their eyes catch the shimmer of every ley line, and their memories outlast the cities built over them.
Brass and porcelain bodies wound around a bound spark. Built as servants and soldiers, many have since claimed their own names, though none remember who first turned the key.
Descendants of those who once traded with the powers below. Horns, ember eyes and a faint smell of sulphur mark them, and the old patrons still whisper to their blood.
Beastfolk of the hedge-woods, part animal and part something older. They hunt by moonlight, smell a lie on the wind and distrust anything that ticks.
Characters start with 14 points; flaws refund at most 4. Cost of each value: -2 -2-1 -10 0+1 1+2 2+3 4+4 7
| Stat | At creation |
|---|---|
| StrengthRaw might: swinging a greatsword, forcing a door, hauling a wounded friend out of the fire. | -2 to 4 |
| DexteritySpeed and finesse: how far you move in a combat turn, how true your arrows fly, how quietly you pick a lock. | -2 to 4 |
| ConstitutionGrit and stamina: every point adds to your health and helps you outlast poison, cold and hunger. | -2 to 4 |
| IntelligenceLearning and reason: ancient histories, machine schematics and the theory behind every spell. | -2 to 4 |
| WisdomInstinct and willpower: reading a liar, tending a wound, and a deeper well of mana. | -2 to 4 |
| CharismaPresence and nerve: the voice that talks a mob down, or into a riot. | -2 to 4 |
| ArcanaConventional sorcery: fire, frost, storm, nature and holy light, the art the academies teach. | 0 to 4 |
| OccultaCorrupt magic of dark patrons: blood rites, eldritch whispers and necromancy, paid for in corruption. | 0 to 4 |
| ArtificeTechnomagic: runes etched into steel, enchanted engines and clockwork that almost thinks. | 0 to 4 |
| CorruptionThe stain left by dark pacts and forbidden power. It creeps upward with every occult working. | not bought |
| Skill | Rolled with |
|---|---|
| AthleticsClimbing, swimming, jumping and shoving your way through. | Strength |
| MeleeFighting up close with blade, axe, hammer or fist. | Strength |
| AcrobaticsTumbling, balancing on a ledge, slipping free of a grapple. | Dexterity |
| EvasionDodging blows, ducking projectiles and getting out of the blast. | Dexterity |
| MarksmanshipBows, crossbows, firearms and thrown weapons. | Dexterity |
| Sleight of HandFine work with the hands: picking a lock, taking or planting a thing unseen. | Dexterity |
| StealthMoving unseen and unheard. | Dexterity |
| EnduranceMarching on, holding your breath, shrugging off poison and exhaustion. | Constitution |
| Arcane LoreSpell theory, enchanted artefacts and the schools of conventional sorcery. | Intelligence |
| EngineeringBuilding, repairing and sabotaging machines, from waterwheels to clockwork. | Intelligence |
| Forbidden LoreDark patrons, blood rites and the occult knowledge sane scholars burn. | Intelligence |
| HistoryKingdoms, wars, noble houses and the legends of the old world. | Intelligence |
| InvestigationSearching for clues, deducing what happened, finding the hidden latch. | Intelligence |
| InsightReading intentions, catching a lie, sensing what goes unsaid. | Wisdom |
| MedicineStopping the bleeding, setting bones and diagnosing illness. | Wisdom |
| PerceptionSpotting, hearing and noticing what others miss. | Wisdom |
| SurvivalTracking, foraging, finding the way and reading the weather. | Wisdom |
| DeceptionLying with a straight face, forged papers and false trails. | Charisma |
| IntimidationThreats, glares and the promise of violence. | Charisma |
| PersuasionHonest argument, charm and diplomacy. | Charisma |
Perks marked “at creation” are chosen on the application form; others come from your race or are granted by game masters in play.
Granted by game masters
Your eyes were made for the undercity's long night. Shape and colour come to you where others see only black.
Granted by game masters
You hear the tick of a cooling engine three streets away and smell the rain before the clouds arrive.
Granted by game masters
Hewn from the mountain's patience. Your bones are dense as granite and you do not stagger easily.
Granted by game masters
Old blood of the hollow hills runs in you. Charms slide off your mind like water off oiled silk, and rot finds little purchase in you.
Granted by game masters
Somewhere in your line, someone made a bargain with the Pit. Flame remembers your family and is gentle with you; the faithful are not.
Granted by game masters
Brass, ichor-glass and a heart of wound mainspring. You barely need air, wear your armour on the inside, and no healer's herbs will mend you; only a wrench will.
At creation
You grew up on the barges and mill-races, hauling nets before you could read. A fish on the line is an old conversation.
One per character: waterside
At creation
Years before the mast taught you knots that hold, lines that don't snap and patience that outlasts any fish. You also learn something from every catch.
One per character: waterside
At creation
You know where the currents drop what the sea has swallowed: lost cargo, drowned purses, a sailor's last coins. Your hook finds them more often than luck allows.
At creation
You have drunk from poisoned wells and walked out of foundry fires. Your body simply refuses to quit.
One per character: vigour
At creation
Rooftop runner, gutter courier, pickpocket's apprentice: you learned early that speed is safety.
At creation
You earned your scars in the rust-pits beneath the Foundry Ward, where the crowd bets on who walks out.
Earned in play
A master horologist rewound your heart past its rated tension. You move in quick, ticking bursts and run hot.
At creation
Watchmaker's fingers, a surgeon's calm, a thief's patience: whatever taught you, your grip doesn't waver when the line jerks.
Earned in play
Hundreds of fights have taught your hands to hold blade and haft without thinking.
Earned in play
You have drawn the string so often that wind and distance read themselves.
Earned in play
The heat of the forge, the weight of the hammer and the colour of hot metal are familiar to you now.
At creation
You feel the ley-lines humming under the cobbles like current in a copper wire, and the Arcana comes easier for it.
At creation
Apprenticed to a sigil-forge, you can etch a working rune into steel by touch and read one at a glance.
At creation
One eye clouded milk-white after you looked too long into a dark mirror. It sees what hides: the hex-mark, the possessed, the lie behind a glamour.
Hidden from other players
Earned in play
Anointed in the Lantern-Flame by a priest of the Warden. The dark finds you harder to grip, and you will not willingly kneel to the things below.
At creation
Whatever you draw on runs deep in you. Where other casters scrape the bottom of the cup, you are still pouring.
At creation
A hedge-witch taught you to breathe with the ley-tide: in through the nose, out through the fingertips. Spent power comes back to you faster.
At creation
You let the dark run through you without a stopper. Blood and eldritch rites bite harder in your hands, and leave a little more of themselves behind.
Hidden from other players
Earned in play
You survived a fire that should have killed you, and something of it stayed. Flame comes when you call it, hotter than it has any right to be.
Earned in play
Every spell you cast taught you something: the power flows more evenly now, and lasts longer.
At creation
Beneath the Ashen Sea lies a drowned kingdom, and on its throne of rib-bone sits the Hollow King, who hungers for crowns and the oaths sworn beneath them. You swore yourself to him; in return the dead whisper their secrets to you. Your shadow is a little too long.
One per character: patron · Hidden from other players
At creation
The Mother of Rust is the patience that eats iron: every seized gear and corroded boiler-plate is a prayer to her. Her chosen hear machines groan their weaknesses, and bear her red-flaked blessing on their skin.
One per character: patron · Hidden from other players
At creation
Under the deepest catacomb a thousand voices sing a hymn that never ends, each of them a soul that bargained too cleverly. They will teach you any secret, for a verse of your own.
One per character: patron · Hidden from other players
At creation
Saint Ysolde died defending the city and rose again, wrong. She weeps blood for her flock still, and those bound by her covenant bleed with her: their wounds close fast, and their tears run red.
One per character: patron · Hidden from other players
At creation
The Warden keeps the eternal flame that burns in every streetlamp of the city, the light that holds back the Long Night. Those she blesses carry a little of it behind their eyes.
One per character: patron
At creation
The Orrery is a god of brass spheres and starlight that turns above the Academy, measuring fate in perfect circles. Its oath-sworn are scholars of the sky and engineers of the possible.
One per character: patron
Earned in play
The rot shows in the blood first: your veins darken to ink beneath the skin, and power flows through them quicker than it should.
Earned in play
Your shadow has opinions now. It lingers after you leave a room, reaches for things you want, and hides you better than any cloak.
Earned in play
You stood at the edge of the Below and it looked back with recognition. Night is no longer dark to you, and your thoughts are no longer entirely your own.
Hidden from other players
Earned in play
The corruption has carved out room inside you, and power pools there like black water. It refills slowly, as if something else drinks from it first.
Hidden from other players
At creation
A minor house of the Gilded Ward, a signet ring, and a name that opens doors and makes enemies in equal measure.
At creation
You held the line at Cinderford while the sky burned. The nightmares are yours to keep, and so are the friends who lived.
At creation
You signed. Everyone signs. Now a soft-spoken clerk calls on the first of every month, and the interest only grows.
Hidden from other players
At creation
Every night you dream of a bell tolling beneath black water. You do not know why. Someone does.
Hidden from other players
At creation
Your name is known in the wrong way. Watchmen remember your face; merchants count their spoons after you leave.
At creation
A wasting cough, brittle bones or a childhood in the smog-wards: your body gives out before your will does.
One per character: vigour
At creation
Something followed you home from a place you should not have gone. Candles gutter when you enter a room, and at night it stands at the foot of your bed.
Hidden from other players
At creation
There is a price on your head in at least one ward of the city, and bounty hunters can read.
Hidden from other players
At creation
Open water turns your stomach and a twitching line turns your hands to butter. Fish slip away from you with insulting ease.
One per character: waterside