The Shattered Seas

Port Vultaire is a sprawling, ramshackle town clinging to the southern curve of Blacktide Cay’s natural bay. Built from the bones of wrecked ships, scavenged Dominion stone, and decades of pirate labor. Crooked buildings lean into each other, balconies sag over alleyways, and rope bridges stretch across rooftops where drunken pirates dare to race for coin. The docks are wide but uneven, built atop stacked hulls and lashed-together beams. Sailors offload stolen goods while drunkards sleep among fishnets. There’s no customs, just bribes. No harbormaster, just whoever yells the loudest. The center of town is a sloped mess of muddy streets, sloshing with runoff and booze. Taverns, brothels, gambling dens, and open-air markets choke every corner. Music and shouting never stop. A place where every soul is hustling, scheming, or hiding from someone. Port Vultaire thrives in its own brutal rhythm — there’s no law but what you enforce yourself.