Story
The beach should have been beautiful.
White sand. Clear water. Palms leaning over the shore while bright birds circled above. For a moment, as we grounded the skiff, it felt like we had come to a place untouched by the world. Warm wind. Blue sky. The kind of coast sailors dream about when nights are long and cold.
Then the smell reached us.
Rot. Blood. Fat boiling under a sun that gave no mercy.
We walked up the sand toward the wooden jetty that jutted out into the bay. From a distance it looked like a simple scaffold. Up close it was a butcher’s stage. Manatees hung from hooks along its length, huge grey shapes swaying gently over the water. Slaves worked along the planks, knives scraping, baskets filling with blubber. All the rest, meat and bone alike, was hacked apart and thrown straight into the sea.
The water below was crimson. Sharks twisted beneath the jetty in a frenzy, their fins cutting the surface as they snapped at the falling scraps.
The sound did not fit the scenery. Waves softly rolling on the sand while behind them came the wet thud of blades, the heavy splash of entrails, the crack of bone. A paradise turned inside out.
A woman on the jetty faltered. She swayed once, then dropped to her knees. Heat, hunger, too many hours in the sun. Her knife slipped from her hand.
An overseer walked over with the calm of someone checking on a loose rope. He nudged her with his boot. When she did not rise, he kicked her sideways off the planks.
She hit the water. A shadow lunged. There was one burst of foam and she was gone. The feeding went on without pause.
Junia whispered something under her breath. Yasmira turned away, her face tight. Even Scarnax hesitated for a heartbeat before pressing on.
We crossed the sand toward the fort rising above the beach. White walls. Bright flags stirring in the breeze. It should have looked proud. Instead the whole place seemed stained by what happened on the jetty below.
A man stepped out of the gatehouse as we approached. His coat was clean. His boots polished. He looked us over as if we were goods to catalog.
Then he spoke with a voice that belonged in an office, not on this shore.
"Do you bring more slaves?"

The Conversation with the Director

When the director, named Tiberion Falvus, waves the crew toward the fort, guide them into a sharp contrast with the beach below. Lead them through a narrow stone corridor into a cool officer room. Focus on the shift. Outside is heat, stench and blood. Inside is quiet, shade and a faint breeze through the shutters.

Set the table with clear signs of privilege. Cool water. Sweet wine. Soft bread. Salted fish. Fresh fruit. Place two slaves in the room to serve. They should keep their eyes lowered and move carefully. The director ignores them except to gesture for more wine. Use this to remind the players that comfort here is built directly on cruelty.

Let the director begin with small complaints. Have him speak at length about how difficult his work is, how the climate ruins everything, how supplies arrive late and how his superiors back in the Empire do not understand the conditions or send enough slaves. He should be frustrated but entirely blind to the suffering outside. Treat this as ordinary conversation from his point of view.

Allow the players to eat and drink if they choose. The food should be good enough to feel unsettling after the beach scene. The director expects them to appreciate this hospitality.

When the players steer the topic toward the Waverider, have the director become more focused. He remembers the ship clearly enough. They arrived several years ago, stayed briefly, then went upriver toward Station Varrek. They returned later in but did not linger. He did not ask where they went next and did not consider it important.

When the players ask about Meronex, shift the tone slightly. The director has heard the name many times but has never met the man. Present the rumors as common along the coast. A druid said to be brilliant. A man who believed he could understand Montosho. A traveler who walked too far into the jungle. Hunters say he changed. Others say he died. Make it vague and unsettling. This is all the director knows.

Close the scene by having the director offer a final piece of advice. If the crew intends to go upriver they must prepare. The Blackwater is unforgiving. Heat, disease and Boons will kill faster than any blade. After this, dismiss them back into the harsh light and noise outside, reinforcing the divide between those who command and those who suffer.

Side stories

Supply Scribe with Loose Lips

A tired imperial scribe keeps the fort’s records. He complains to anyone who listens. With a little wine he will talk about shipment numbers, patrol losses and odd notes about the Waverider’s return. He can hint at disease outbreaks upriver, missing scouts or strange jungle sightings.

Missing Tools

A slave approaches the crew when no overseer is watching. He asks if they have seen a missing iron tool. Losing it means punishment. Helping him find it earns quiet gratitude and a bit of gossip about the fort. Failing to help creates no major trouble, but it leaves a bitter taste.

Drunk Soldier

A bored soldier drinks too much during the evening heat. He vents about how he hates this posting. He claims the Boons have been more active lately. He might mention a patrol that vanished last month.

Rotten Stores

The crew notices sacks of spoiled grain stacked near the fort wall. An assistant quartermaster confides that the humidity ruins everything and that Falvus refuses to request more supplies because he thinks it makes him look weak. This shows the crew how mismanaged the fort really is.

Runaway in the Palm Grove

A slave slips away from the butchery line and hides in a palm grove further down the beach. He begs the crew not to report him. If the players help hide him or give him water it remains quiet. If they turn him in, Falvus praises their diligence with cold indifference. Either choice colors their reputation here without creating an incident.

Shark Teeth Merchant

One soldier collects shark teeth from the feeding frenzy and sells them to passing sailors. He offers a few to the crew. He talks openly about how the sharks are so well fed that they no longer leave the bay.

Palm Wine Night

Some low ranking soldiers hold a palm wine gathering near the wall after sunset. If the crew stops by, they hear a mix of superstition and rumor about upriver stations. It is harmless chatter, but they can learn that Station Varrek is in worse condition than Fort Jandrel.

Idle Gossip About Falvus

A servant quietly hints that Falvus overvalues appearance and hates being contradicted. If the crew listens, they gain a sense of how to handle him in conversation. This helps them avoid trouble.

Travel to Station Varrek

When the crew leaves Fort Jandrel and heads upriver, present the journey as steady but tense. The river is too shallow and unpredictable for anything larger than a skiff, so the Blue Marlin must remain at anchor. As Game Master, describe dense foliage pressing close to the banks, huge roots twisting into the water and the constant hum of insects. Nothing attacks the crew yet. This leg should feel like the calm before the descent.

Arrival at Station Varrek

When the skiff rounds a bend, show Station Varrek rising out of the jungle. Unlike the white walls of Fort Jandrel, Varrek is nothing more than a crude palisade of sharpened logs driven into the mud. Inside, a cluster of rough wooden buildings leans at odd angles. Smoke rises from several pits where manatee blubber is rendered over open flames. The smell hits immediately. Thick. Sour. Almost choking.

Varrek should feel hostile from the first heartbeat. At Jandrel, the brutality was organized. Here it is raw force with no restraint.

Introduce the director, Lentaro Marcon. He is enormous, broad shouldered and sweat soaked, with a shaved head and a face flushed from heat and temper. Lentaro does not walk. He stomps. Every step sounds like a hammer on planks. Have him move through the camp with two overseers at his heels, barking orders and swinging his cudgel at any slave who is too slow to duck away.

A group of newly arrived slaves has been herded into the yard. They look exhausted from travel. Lentaro pauses in front of them, scans their faces and speaks loudly enough for the entire station to hear. As Game Master, deliver his line without drama, as though he is explaining a basic rule of farm work.

“When the first one tries to cause trouble or be lazy, cut off hands and feet and leave him to die. No one will be lazy after that.”

Make sure the players see the reaction. The overseers nod without hesitation. The slaves go still. Several lower their eyes. The cruelty should feel casual, almost routine.

Life in Varrek

During the day Lentaro refuses to meet them. He waves them off with a grunt and stalks back into the camp. Have soldiers tell the crew that he will speak when he has time, which means the crew must spend hours watching how Varrek works.

Use this time to paint the station as a jungle hell:

• Blubber pits bubbling under the sun.
• Flies so thick they move like smoke.
• Slaves shuffling between tasks, beaten for even small mistakes.
• Canoes coming in, dragging manatees, some with wounded slaves after the hunt. If the wounds are light, they are ignored, if not, the slave is killed.
• Rotted wooden walkways that shift underfoot.
• A sense that everything here is moments away from collapse.

Encourage the crew to explore only within the palisade. Anything beyond the walls is thick jungle and no one here encourages wandering. Let them see that Varrek has no beauty left. It is only labor, decay and fear.

Evening Audience

When night falls, guide the crew to Lentaro’s longhouse. Inside, it is dim, humid and cluttered. He sits at a rough table, eating with his fingers. He does not offer food or drink. He wipes his hands on his shirt and only then acknowledges the crew.

Keep this conversation short. Lentaro has no patience for visitors.

He confirms that the Waverider passed through on its way to Drevas Post. He remembers them only because they carried more gear than most river travelers. He did not care why they were heading deeper.

If asked about Meronex, have Lentaro’s tone shift. He grows interested, even thoughtful for a brief moment. He says Meronex had a way of seeing the world that made sense only to him. Lentaro admired that, though he cannot explain it. He ends the topic by saying that if the crew wants to understand Meronex, they will have to hear the man speak with their own ears.

Close the scene by having Lentaro dismiss them with a grunt, already turning back to whatever miserable task consumes his evening. The message is clear. Varrek is a place where brutality is the only law, and the path ahead will not grow kinder.

Side Tracks

Work Detail Dispute

Two overseers argue over which group of slaves should haul a wagon of blubber to the pits. The argument grows loud but stops when Lentaro passes by. If the crew lingers, one overseer quietly complains that the other is stealing his laborers. He asks the crew to deliver a message to a soldier on the far side of camp. This shows the petty politics of Varrek and gives the players a harmless errand that reveals more of how the place runs.

Illegal Trade

A bored soldier offers to sell jungle pelts and ivory to the crew. Most of it is scavenged from dead slaves. If the players press, he admits the practice is forbidden because it robs the station of saleable stock. Buying or refusing affects nothing, but it shows how corruption festers here.

Sick Slave

Junia notices a young slave with a swollen leg crawling between huts. If she offers help, the overseers allow it as long as she works quickly. Junia can treat the infection well enough to save the woman’s life. This earns quiet gratitude from the slaves, but no one says a word in public. If she ignores it, nothing happens immediately, but the woman dies by morning. The woman tells Junia that Lentaro has her daughter chained up in his house, for his personal use, and begs her to help.

Broken Tools

Galenor spots a pile of discarded tools beside a hut. Axes with loose heads. Spears that were once hunting tools but are now dull. If he inspects them, a low ranking worker asks if he can fix one or two. Helping him gives the crew a sense of how poorly Varrek maintains its equipment. The worker will speak freely about the lack of supplies and the constant injuries.

Child in the Cages

A small group of slaves is kept in crude cages awaiting transfer. One of them is a child Catling with spotted paint fading on her skin. She stares silently at the crew. The crew can offer her water or speak to her. Any deeper rescue attempt will fail here, but small kindnesses matter. Most likely, this is their first time seeing a Catling.

The Silent Worker

A slave sits alone beside a hut, unmoving, staring at the ground. When the crew passes, she whispers a warning. The warning can be anything vague. Do not drink the river. The Boons have been restless. The jungle does not sleep. Her words add tension, but she refuses to say more.

Missing Crew Rations

While resupplying, Caelin notices that some of the goods offered to the crew are moldy or waterlogged. A quartermaster admits Varrek is losing stock faster than it can be replaced. If Caelin pushes, he blames the jungle for everything. This lets the crew feel the decay creeping into every part of the station.

Night in the Palisade

If the crew stays within the walls until evening, let them hear distant drums in the jungle. Not close. Not threatening. Just enough to make the soldiers tense. A sergeant mutters that this happens more often now. No one knows why. This foreshadows Kra’thuun and ties the place to the greater dread of Montosho.

Arrival at Drevas Post

When the crew arrives at Drevas Post, guide the scene with a clear shift in tone. After the brutality of Varrek, Drevas should feel hollow. Not safer, not kinder, only neglected, tired and held together by habit more than authority.

Present the palisade as warped and leaning. The gates hang crooked. The huts inside sag under their own roofs. There is no order here, only resignation.

Food and Living Conditions

Describe the smell of old smoke and rancid cooking oil drifting from the cookhouse. When the crew samples the food, make it thin gruel with hard lumps, barely enough to fill a bowl. Have the cook, a hollow eyed slave named Meren, glance at the overseers before ladling anything. Make it clear the better bits of food never reach the workers. The overseers take whatever they want.

Sleeping quarters should be low roofed huts with warped floors and clouds of flies. The heat inside is oppressive. Emphasize insects at night. Let the players hear scratching in the walls and see swollen welts appear by morning.

Station Life

Slaves are beaten here as well, but the overseers do it out of habit rather than purpose. They strike without watching where, then wander off to rest in the shade. Work is done slowly because no one enforces anything, and beatings happen regardless of if they work or not. Slaves starve. Overseers drink. Little gets accomplished.

Use names when helpful. Overseer Halvo sleeps through half his shift and forgets what orders he gave. Overseer Drann chews tobacco and spits on the ground whenever a slave speaks. Both of them beat people, but without Lentaro Marcon’s force or discipline.

Waiting for the Director

When the crew asks for the director, inform them that Director Helvoro Sestian is away on a hunt. He left with several slaves as carriers and expects to be gone for a few days.

Let a few days pass with nothing changing. Then end each day the same way, with another overseer shrugging and saying, “Sestian hasn’t come back.”

Stretch this to a full week. This is your chance to build frustration. Use timeskips often. Show only the important moments.

• A fight breaks out between two exhausted slaves over some food scraps.
• An overseer falls asleep on the job.
• Rain pours for hours and floods part of the camp.
• A shed collapses because no one bothered to repair it.
• Guards sleep, anyone could sneak in. If the slaves weren't chained, they could simply walk off.
• The crew grows restless, hungry and irritable.

Everything says the same thing. No one here is in control.

Sestian’s Return

On the seventh day, guide the players to the palisade gates. Horns sound. Director Helvoro Sestian marches back into the station, sunburned, filthy and proud. The slaves carries several trophies slung over poles. Animal skins. A pair of tusks. Something that might be a Boon skull. He has fewer slaves than he left with, but he shows no sign of caring.

Walking beside him is a Catling guide. This is Ileena. Present her with a quiet presence. Her tail flicks in irritation at the station’s stench. She keeps her distance from Sestian but walks with the relaxed confidence of someone who knows the jungle better than anyone here.