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Here's my last Patreon map inspired by an old classic.

The "Marlin Ship"

35x4 for the smallest spelljammer of the human fish fleet, but despite its small size, this little ship is highly prized by many fleets for its speed and manoeuvrability, making it one of the most capable hunters and an unrivaled scout. Able to outrun much better-armed ships in the blink of an eye, it is also often used as a smuggler's vessel. Its versatility and ability to land as well on land as at sea means it is also highly prized by small groups of adventurers looking for a discreet, fast vessel that can go unnoticed in most Astral ports or planets.

Capable of carrying up to 20 passengers, it can also be operated with a small crew of couple determined sailors.

All these advantages come at a price, that of the restricted size of the interior quarters which puts off certain captains who don't like being squeezed into their quarters, as well as the low tonnage capacity compared with their “plumper” brothers.

i hope you like it :) you can check the rest of the fleet on my patreon or on roll20

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"The Bait" crab coast shipwrecker 25x40

My latest work in date "The Bait" 25x40 A little map perfect for a side quest or a violent encounter along a lovely coast of blues meanders either for a little stroll along the beach or a fierce last stand in the middle of the night against horde of crabs

Somewhere in the nooks and crannies of the cliffs nestles a stone hut as black as the surrounding cliffs. a vestige of the archipelago's first settlers. few people know about this remote coast. the sailors simply call it the bait.

In the darkest nights and the fiercest storms, a flickering light shines from the top of this cliff. A providential lighthouse, say the young sailors. for the old sea dogs, the warning is clear. this little lighthouse is nothing other than a shipwreck fire.

Attracted by this pale light, you will break your ship on the rocky spurs of the coast. Cold and exhausted, you'll lose your strength contemplating this torch at the top of the cliff. the little hovel won't open its door until morning. in the meantime, get to know the other crawling guests of the shipwreckers' coast.

welcome to the rod, you are the bait.

created by Inocyde world builder

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Killer whale warclan rider project, by inocyde worldbuilder

work in progress for now

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"The Husk" terminal of Jormara 25x35

In the north of Jormerun... in fact in the north at all, at the antipodes of all civilization, at the end of the world, you'll find the Jormara ice pack. A wild, inhospitable desert of ice. An expanse of shifting, all-consuming, ever-changing pack ice. Instead of fine sand dunes, you'll find titanic icebergs frozen in time or floating in deathly calm along the shores of this sea of ice.

In this labyrinth of frozen teeth and fangs, you'll sometimes catch a glimpse of great black columns silhouetted against the blizzard. These gigantic peaks of basalt rock are Jormara's only fixed points, the summits of lost mountains. Dating back to a time when civilizations and men still slept the benevolent sleep that preceded their birth. The banished gods is the name given by the few inhabitants of this white hell to the mountains that rip through the depths of this frozen ocean.

If your eyes see one of these black towers emerge, after weeks of travel in the blind blizzard, you'll be able to contemplate the flickering, fragile glow of hundreds of torches on all sides of the peak, staking out the body and entrails of the rock. If you get any closer, you'll be able to hear the song of these gods, a symphony of clatters and sharp blows. The pickaxes of dozens of miners echoing in the wind.

That's why there's life here, barely surviving, eating the snow and chasing all forms of heat so as not to die out. The treasure of the dead gods, the heritage of an entire people, glory and wealth for deserters and adventurers. Mithril.

Veins of mithril almost outcropping! Mines so abundant and rich that sometimes you only have to stoop to pick it up. This is the honey that attracts bees of all races and all countries to this great chase: the mithril hunt of the Jormara ice floe.

That's where you set off, hoping with all your soul not to end up like all those pioneers, frozen for eternity on their knees in the middle of nothing, frozen with their hope and their life's fortune packed in their bag.

After two months by boat, you arrive at the furthest point from inhabited land. Zigzagging between icebergs that have become mountains, you can't go any further. You're at the gates of Jormara, one of the departure camps for the Great Devourer.

Welcome to the Husk, home to 3 and a half people and a few sled dogs.

On the menu for the year: fish in fish fat, all cooked in melted ice.

It's best to book your bed in advance if you don't want to brave the polar night and enrich the next day's ordinary.

Make the most of the fire fed by the remains of ships that weren't lucky enough to arrive, like yours, in one piece.

As you watch your nave sail away into the dawn, you'll realize that you are now a resident of Jormara. Your wealth, perhaps, your prison, surely, and your grave, no doubt.

-Sileas Kel Pionner of Jormara

more in my patreon

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