They Come Looking
Consequences no longer wait in the room where you earned them — they follow you to the town, the road, and the company you keep.
Consequences used to wait in one room
Kill a man in a counting room and the reckoning for it was nailed to that counting room. His people would only ever find you if you walked back through that exact door — not the street outside, not the tavern across the square, not the city. One room, in a world of thousands.
Nobody plays that way. So the reckoning never came, and the world felt like it had forgotten.
A consequence is now attached to a place at the size it actually is. Some things wait in one specific spot, because that is genuinely where they are — a cursed chamber does not follow you home. But a person looking for you is looking for you. They ask at the docks. They ask at the taverns. If they only know you were somewhere in Sahir, then anywhere in Sahir will do.
The bounty on your head does not need you to retrace your steps to collect it.
An encounter knows when it's finished
A man you pulled out of a storm tracked you down to thank you and press a purse into your hands. Then he did it again the next time you spoke. And again. The world had no way of knowing the moment had already happened, so it kept happening — the same gratitude, the same purse, until the gift became a haunting.
Encounters now understand their own shape. Some are a single beat: a courier delivers, a stranger recognises you, an old debt is repaid, and it is done — the moment it lands, it is finished, whether or not you had anything to say back. Others are a conversation with a natural end. And some are a standoff that deserves room to become a fight.
Nothing lingers past its welcome, and nothing gets replayed. A fight in progress is never cut short.
Caught on the road
Not everyone wants to take you indoors, in front of witnesses.
Someone who means to have you alone can now wait for you to leave. Order a march out of a town where you have made the wrong enemy and the journey may simply not happen: the road out, the open country, and whatever was patient enough to sit there watching the gate.
You do not get to walk past it. You find out what it wants.
Some things hinge on who you're with
Certain reckonings are not about where you are at all — they are about the company you keep. A face at your side that someone else has been hunting. A companion whose past walks into the room the moment the wrong person sees the two of you together.
These follow the person, not the place. Travel with someone long enough and you inherit what is owed to them.
Old business, settled
Consequences already hanging over your characters have been re-pointed at the towns and regions they were really about, so the ones that had quietly become unreachable can find you again. A handful that were stuck half-open — begun but never closed — have been laid to rest.
Some of them have been waiting a long time.