Mortmain is set on a broken continent locked in a three-way cold war. Nobody can win outright, and everybody is trying anyway.
Two empires that despise each other, a rich neutral middle that profits from the standoff, and a scorched frontier between them full of monsters, mercenaries and worse.
Thirteen regions, and all thirteen exist on the first day. Nothing about the map unlocks later. Each is its own landmass, separated by narrow channels and open water, and only four of the thirteen are held by anybody when the world opens.
Six of the thirteen can be reached by an army on foot. The other seven need ships. People and cargo cross by ferry under a customs stamp; an army crosses by a span built to carry one, or by troop carrier under escort.
Roads are the other half of it. One road runs the whole way across and no other does. The rest stop, fork, or hand you to a ferry.
59 settlements stand on that ground, and 24 sites in the whole world yield stone, ore or brine. 2 regions have no extractive ground at all and buy every block and bar they build with.
Every zone carries a danger tier, and it is not decoration. The tier sets the PvP rules on that ground, the tariffs, and who is allowed in. Crossing a tile means a d20 check against it, modified by your road, your mount, the weather and how bad the ground is. A poor roll costs you time, or a wrong turn, or something worse off the encounter table.
Roads, mounts and skill flatten both the time and the risk. The deep Marches spike both.
Beyond the three great powers are minor powers, mercenary lords, smuggler networks and the monster-haunted borderlands. Whom you favour and whom you cross is tracked, and it changes how the world treats you.
Your character has an alignment and a standing with every power and every faith, tracked separately. Act with the Light and Maldora warms to you while Karasath does not. Play both sides and the free lands love you and nobody trusts you.
Your choices are remembered, and the record is per faction and per town rather than one number.
Standing is what a town thinks of you. It is not the same as what one person thinks of you.
Everybody in this world has a name, a trade, a home and a day. The barkeep is a person with a class and a level, not a menu that dispenses ale, and if you keep buying from him he starts to know who you are.
That happens by dealing, not by talking. Somebody you trade with, hire, or fight beside for long enough stops treating you like a stranger, and the difference shows in what he is willing to say. A man who knows your name tells you about the town. A man who trusts you tells you what he has heard, who has been buying strangely, and things he probably should not repeat.
Nothing announces any of this. There is no notification and no meter. You find out you have a friend by being treated like one.
It runs the other way too. Steal from a man, break a contract he is party to, or ruin somebody he deals with, and he remembers that instead. Push it far enough and you have made an enemy who will spend his own money to work against you.
And you cannot solve that with a sword. He comes back the same as anybody comes back. Making amends is available. Outliving him is not.
The world has a long, dark history, and most of it is never spelled out. You piece it together by playing.
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