Person with long hair wearing a gas mask and chains, holding a skull-shaped mask, with dark background and a gritty, textured border.

The Rawhead Families

A patchwork of horror-draped clans who wear the bones of their own dead and the shrouds of their slain, the Rawhead Families blur the line between Lineage, cult, and nightmare. Living deep in the Bone Forest and aligned with the Pig Head Trade Company, they are cannibalistic survivalists who see the dead not as an enemy but as kin to be consumed or honored. Every adornment tells a story; every mask hides a history that is better left buried.

Figure in a white robe with a patterned mask crouching over a human skull in a dark, brick-walled room.

The Splicers

Mad scientists in butcher’s aprons, the Splicers operate behind closed doors in swamp-labs and coastal sheds, pushing necrology into grotesque new territory. Their public faces are respectable, even helpful. Their private experiments are the kind of violations that earn pitchforks and torches. Their work asks questions like, “Can a zombie host a living brain?” and “What happens if the Mortis Amaranthine is taught obedience?” No one asks twice.

A young man with styled hair and hoop earring, wearing a bandana and beige clothing, sitting casually with a bottle in one hand surrounded by smoke and ink splatters.

Black Dog Armada

They fly no national flag, owe no loyalty, and expect no rescue. The Black Dog Armada is a fleet of pirates that lives in the space between shadows, sailing under a possibly mythical admiral and delivering chaos where profit allows. They don’t attack the islands—they need the markets. But what they do to ships on the open water is another matter entirely. Freedom, they say, comes with blood in the bilge.

A person holding a marshmallow-covered candle with flaming wicks in a muddy hand, with a blurred background.

Followers of the voiceless deep

A cult of sea-worshippers who believe that only silence can keep the ocean's hungers at bay. The Voiceless Deep blend ritualistic sacrifice with maritime practicality, tending lighthouses during the worst of the storms but dousing flames during the annual Night of Terror. They listen to the sea, bleed into it, and believe that to ignore its voice is to invite its wrath. Their faith walks the shoreline with blood-stained feet.

A person with a hood over their head is wearing a mask with tubes and spikes, creating a futuristic or dystopian appearance.

Murder Inc

Operating like shadows in a world of gray morality, Murder Inc. sanctions death for order’s sake. Their families blend seamlessly into society until the job demands otherwise. Note that joining Murder Inc means you automatically opt in for CvC.

  • The Moss Family hides in plain sight as fisherfolk and pig farmers. Bodies vanish beneath crab pots and manure heaps, handled by killers who smile through sunburned cheeks.

  • The Mors Family creates killers by erasing the person first. They infiltrate, befriend, seduce, then erase. Their methods are final and their histories burned.

  • The Murk Family plays a longer game—graverobbers and occult scholars who study the Mortis and bury knowledge alongside corpses.

  • The Tidemaker Family controls the docks and the sea routes. Their retribution is theatrical: death by dragging or suffocation under barnacles. They leave no message unwritten in salt and blood.

Person wearing a tattered mask and dark work clothes, holding a finger to their lips in a shushing gesture, against a dark background.

black Market

Where Murder Inc. ends with a corpse, the Black Market begins with a transaction. This isn’t a single cartel but instead it’s a loosely bound hydra of vice brokers, smugglers, black science labs, and social engineers who grease the wheels of survival with goods, services, and secrets that civilized society refuses to name. Please note the joining the Black Market automatically opts you into CvC.

  • Bedlam is a traveling vice ring with no permanent home and no fixed price. They specialize in entertainment that walks the line between pleasure and pain, buying and selling euphoria like fuel. Their followers call them artists. Their enemies call them predators.

  • The Jokers don’t deal in goods—they deal in people. Masters of manipulation, misinformation, and reputational sabotage, the Jokers control a web of favors and fears. They destroy credibility, manufacture scandal, and reshape public opinion with a whisper.

  • Corpus Delicti takes the raw material of the post-apocalypse—flesh, bone, nerve—and turns it into economy. Necro-biologists and body hackers, they extract value from the dead with surgical precision. To them, corpses are just coin purses waiting to be unzipped.

  • The Merican Financial Institute launders power through debt, not bullets. They offer loans almost no one else can afford and collect interest in favors, influence, and blood. Their books are balanced, their enforcers polite, and their reach absolute. Many ships and trade routes were funded with M.F.I. loans and the ships with past-due debts often succumb to pirates.