The Shattered Seas

A weather-beaten boarding house perched on stilts just above the tide line. Its cracked shutters swing in the wind, and a faded sign of a veiled woman holding a cutlass creaks above the porch. Inside, the air smells of sea brine, stew, and old blood. Each room is different — some with rag-stuffed mattresses, others with straw on the floor. Maura Vask runs the place like a pirate mother hen: gruff, foul-mouthed, and utterly fearless. Her boot once shattered a sailor’s jaw for getting too handsy. No one steals from her. Ever.

The building is weathered and worn, with cracked shutters that swing in the wind and a faded sign depicting a veiled woman wielding a cutlass. The interior is dimly lit, with rough wooden beams and a bar lined with mismatched stools, creating a rustic yet inviting atmosphere.