Faraway Sea

Its name is far too whimsical for the reality it scarcely
describes. Surrounded by mists, storms, and seas high
enough to fling whales into passing boats, the Faraway Sea
is impassable. You can’t go through it, only around it. The
maelstrom covering the Faraway Sea is twenty-six miles in
length and fourteen miles across. The storms never abate,
never relent, never retreat. The only part of the Faraway
Sea not entirely consumed by the night-dark clouds is a
small patch where the islands appear before circling off
again into the chaos of rain and lightning. Eventually, they
return. Perhaps in a month, perhaps not for years. There’re
few rules about such things, and, even after years of study,
the Observatory is no closer to guessing why some islands
appear more regularly than others.
Within the mass of permanent clouds, behind the constant
illumination of the lightning, beyond the surging of the
sea itself, lies the rift—a schism in space and time, a place
where reality ends and the raw chaos of creation seethes
and shifts and spits. It’s from this rift the islands originally
emerged, or so they say. The energy of the gods themselves
pours out of the rift and into the sea and is moulded
before being added to the infinite carousel of islands,
endlessly orbiting.
The rift, however, is mostly a theory. No one has ever
actually, definitively, and verifiably seen it. After all, the
luck required to gaze upon a magical maelstrom of that size
and first return and second be sane and whole enough to
speak about it… Let’s just say the luck you’d need would be
substantial. Scholars and scientists from the Observatory
take a trip out to the fringes of the Faraway Sea frequently;
they measure the storm, gauging its anger and its scale
(apparently the storm grows angriest just before an island is
about to appear), and attempt to gain some understanding
of the means by which the fluctuations of magic in the
storm create the islands and rotate them like a magician
spinning plates.
No one knows what created either the rift or the Faraway
Sea. Instead, there is endless rumour and supposition—
some of it thoughtful, almost plausible, and some of it crazy
enough to provoke outright laughter in those who hear
it. To some, the rift is the mouth (or some other exposed
anatomical portion) of a god. Left mute by some cosmic
tragedy, the god pours their power out in this fashion,
spewing their fury into the world. To those less predisposed
to romantic notions—most of the Observatory, if we’re
honest—the rift is a split between planes of existence most
likely, they claim, caused by some vast magical undertaking
in the distant past.

These scholars (with the relentless logic of their learned
kind) point to the Isle of Dogs, just off the shore of Gullet
Cove. Another island, wrapped in impenetrable storm
and fog, save for one week in the year, the Isle of Dogs
bares much resemblance to those of the Faraway Sea.
The prevailing theory of the cause of the Isle of Dogs
predicament is the hubris of the elves who first built Gullet
Cove. Magical experiments led to all manner of strangeness
and chaos in that ancient city, most spectacularly when
a chunk of the shore was torn free and cast into the sea,
bound up in storms. The parallel between the Faraway
Sea and the Isle of Dogs has captivated the scientists of
the Observatory, though no definitive link between the
two exists. It’s thought the elves might have been trying to
replicate the conditions responsible for the Faraway Sea,
inadvertently succeeding in producing a miniature version
rather than a source of almost-infinite power.
For hundreds of years, different civilisations have flocked
to the rift, attempting to divine its secrets. The islands were,
at first, considered something of a novelty. Some became
inhabited, for each island within the rift is protected from
the storms, shielded in its own little bubble. These island
communities grew, trading with the curious and then
vanishing again, safe and insulated from the pandemonium
of the world. Of course, sometimes, when these islands
emerged again, those communities were gone—some torn
apart from within, some from without—but many thrived.
Soon, Flotsam and Jetsam emerged mirroring these island
communities but also enabling the Observatory to begin
tracking the fluctuations of the storm.
Over time, the Observatory became conscious of the
strange treasures occasionally discovered on the islands—
the genius loci. The gewgaws and trinkets, apparently so
innocuous, and yet steeped in power, rapidly became an
equal focus of research. Perhaps, it was reasoned, the true
mystery of the Faraway Sea might be contained in these
items that are disgorged by the storm itself. Thus far, there’s
been no convenient resolution, no single answer, only
deeper mysteries.
Are the genius loci made as the islands are, in that same
moment of creation? Do they, instead, form over time,
crystallising into being as the island’s identity takes shape?
There is still no clear information on such matters. The
only certainty is that the genius loci contain some fragment
or trace of the enormous magical energy contained in
the rift. It’s speculated, by some, that the genius loci might
form some sort of message, if properly interpreted. The
mysterious monolith in the centre of Flotsam is often
pointed to as proof of such claims. No one knows where
the monolith came from, who set it up, or even when it
was placed there. Some assert the town was built around it,
others that it arrived much later, and still others maintain
the whole thing is a hoax. No one is quite sure.

While Flotsam is the major hub for those living in or near
to the Faraway Sea, some prefer to keep their distance from
that particular nest of price-gougers, confidence tricksters,
and drunkards, or as those who dwell there call them,
neighbours. Ysandre, the legendary Pirate Queen, almost
never docks at Flotsam if she can help it. Since she left
Gullet Cove, she’s stuck close to the fringes of the storm,
hunting for something or someone and refusing to explain
her reasons. There are few who’d push a woman as deadly
with a cutlass as Ysandre for more information.
There’s always scrap and debris to be found along the
edges of the storm, though. Most of the various craft under
the command of Madison Shaw, the self-styled admiral
of Flotsam, patrol the perimeter of the rift. Sometimes
whole boats drift suddenly from the grip of bruise-coloured
clouds. Sometimes, it’s mere remnants. These wrecks are
never crewed; in fact, most show no sign of ever having
been sailed at all, save their being on the sea. A few beams,
usually buried deep in the hulls, have had symbols etched
into them. None have ever been successfully translated,
despite some Observatory experts touring the great libraries
and archives of the world for years.
The constant storm, the general lawlessness around
Flotsam, and the islands’ continual motion ensure pirates
often prowl along the route to Flotsam and around the
Faraway Sea. This, to mariners, is known as ‘the long hunt’,
as crews need to be ready of months of hard sailing—but
the rewards can be extravagant. Rumours persist of chests
filled with gold, suddenly ejected from the vast banks of
clouds. And, if such luck is not with a ship, then there are
always merchants and over-confident adventurers to quickly
surround and relieve of their hard-earned wages.
Flotsam, despite its reputation, does its best to limit piracy,
and, as a result, known pirates are forbidden from making
port there. This means committed thieves must remain at
sail, keeping out of the way of the regular patrols emerging
from Flotsam. Of course, what is considered piracy
for those who don’t pay the right tithes to the Flotsam
authorities is often looked on more kindly when carried out
by those who do.
It’s occasionally rumoured there are those who live inside
the storm, somehow, cosseted in their own little pockets
like the islands themselves, but in miniature. Some claim
that Old Brass Knees, the peculiar elf who wanders around
Flotsam, used to be such an inhabitant—a dweller in the
storm, as the rumours dub them—though he never confirms
as such, simply grinning and tugging his forelock in salute.

There’s a lot of islands out there in the Faraway Sea. There’s
a dozen or so in this book, and we’re only scratching the
surface of the weird and wonderful places waiting to be
explored. So, how do you know which island is going to
show up next? If you’re an animal, or an explorer, you go to
the Observatory, obviously. You, unfortunately, don’t have
that luxury—I know, I’m sorry, but you’re the GM and
that’s very nearly as cool.

When deciding which island is about to emerge from the
mist, you can either choose the island best suited to the type
of adventure you prefer to run. Alternatively, roll on the
following table, rerolling if you bring up the last island the
player characters visited:

D12 Result Island Name
1 Flicker Island
2 Dragon-Wise Island
3 The Isle of Twisted Glass
4 Isle of the Sleeper
5 Snow Blast Island
6 Perfect Summer Island
7 Whale Home Island
8 Thunderquake Island
9 Isle of Cursed Stuff
10 Oak Tree Island
11 Chronologica
12 Golem Island

The islands of the Faraway Sea are temperamental things;
they emerge from the mists for a short time, exposing their
secrets to the world, and then are swallowed back up, not to
re-emerge for months or years at a time. Determining how
long an island is going to be in place is extremely important.
If player characters get trapped on an island, they could be
stranded there for a long time, and racing to escape as the
mists close around them, keeping them somewhere they
might really not want to be. After all, spending one day on
an island filled with magical dragons might be a remarkable
experience filled with insight and learning, but how long can
you be there before they start thinking of a player characters
as a tasty snack?

An island stays for a minimum of eight hours of in-
world time. This is enough time for tourists to journey
over if a place looks particularly lovely and inviting, or if
the island is well known, and clearly recognised. It is not
enough time to explore an island properly, however, as
each island is broken into hexes, and a hex takes 6 hours to
thoroughly explore (for more on exploring a hex, see page
111). Fortunately, most islands stick around a little longer
than eight hours!

The Observatory, on Flotsam, also issues its prediction
of how long the island is going to be around. Filled with
brilliant, and slightly mad, scientists, the Observatory issues
a notice whenever an island appears, estimating how long
they believe it is likely to hang around. These are, they’re
keen to emphasise, just estimates! Sometimes, they’re
astonishingly accurate… other times not so much. But
smart adventurers should know the signs of an island about
to disappear back into the clutches of the Faraway Sea!

When determining how long an island remains in place
for, the GM should roll on the following table, and add the
minimum hours value to the total rolled. Alternatively, should
you be in a hurry, simple choose the average hours value!

When determining the accuracy of the Observatory’s
predictions, if the total of hours rolled is above the average,
then roll and add the indicated number to the total, and if
the total of hours rolled is below the average, then roll and
deduct the number from the total. The Observatory might
only be an hour out, or they might be ten! That’s one of the
many risks of exploring the islands!

Island Size Minimum Hours Additional Hours Average Hours Observatory Prediction
Small 8 1d12 14 Total +/- 1d6
Medium 12 1d20 22 Total +/- 1d8
Large 16 2d20 36 Total +/- 1d10

How Do We Know It’s Disappearing?
The player characters might have some rough idea of how long they have on the island, but
it’s not going to be totally accurate. That’s a definite risk, if you’re hoping to make it back to
Madame Wilder’s before Happy Hour is over, but risk is what an adventuring life is about.
Fortunately, for the punctilious adventurer who is also observant, there are certain signs an
island is likely to disappear back into the mist soon.
3 hours from vanishing: Mist begins to gather on the ground, as though rising from
vents in the earth.
2 hours from vanishing: The island begins to shake, gently.
1 hours from vanishing: The mist is now thick enough to make vision difficult. Visibility
is reduced to 30 ft.
1/2 hour from vanishing: The island begins to shake violently, readying itself for to
move. Moving more than 20 ft. in a single action requires a creature to succeed on a
DC 12 Dexterity (Acrobatics) check, or else be knocked prone!

You cannot reach or leave an island by magical means. You
just can’t do it. The magical energies woven around the
Faraway Sea, and the islands within it counteract all magic.
It’s impossible to Teleport a creature from Flotsam to an
island, for example. It’s also impossible to do the reverse.
While it’s perfectly possible to teleport from one side of an
island to another, getting to or from an island requires more
mundane means.
The only exception to this rule are spells enabling
communication with others, such as Message. These can be
sent from, and received on, the islands at any time—even if
the island is swallowed by the Faraway Sea.

What Happens When the Island Disappears Back Into the Mist?
If the player characters don’t manage to reach their boats—
or whatever method of conveyance they used to reach
the island—before the time elapses, they’re trapped! The
Faraway Sea swallows the island back up into a torrent
of swirling mist. The player characters can still clamber
into their boats and attempt to sail away, but they’ll find
themselves suddenly sailing towards the island, entirely
reoriented without any notion of how this happened or any
detectable spell causing the effect.
As to how long it takes for the island to swing round again,
we suggest 1d4+1 months, though this depends entirely on
the GM and the player characters, and what they wish to
do. After all, there are certainly other ways off some of the
islands, for those who know where to look. How else does
Mr Fugit manage to trade with the great kingdoms of the
south, despite Chronologica being subsumed by mist for
months at a time?

In Animal Adventures: The Faraway Sea each island is broken up into a number of hexes. These hexes represent the
same area of land, irrespective of the island they’re on. A large island might have 6 or more of these hexes, while a small
island might possess only 2, but each hex covers an area of approximately the same dimensions.
When player characters arrive on an island, they are always assumed to arrive on the edge of a hex. This begins Exploration.
Exploration is how the player characters navigate their way around an island they’ve never visited before, discovering
its secrets, and becoming engaged in the island’s comings and goings.

When a group of player characters is engaged in
exploration, they act as a group, rather than as individuals.
This does not preclude a character being sent off to perform
certain individuals actions, but such a decision is taken as
part of the group, rather than as individual decision.
During exploration, play follows the sequence detailed below:

• Declare: The player characters, as a group, determine
  what it is they wish to do during the phase of
  exploration. They can all act together, or can split off
  into separate groups.
  Generating Complications: Every action possesses a
  time cost, and a series of potential complications the
  player characters might need to overcome. The GM
  determines these complications, using some of the
  examples below.
  Description: The player characters, and the GM, together,
  describe the journey, and what happens on the way.
  Resolution: The player characters and the GM play
  out, and resolve, any events or encounters the player
  characters experience during their exploration.
  Destination: The player characters reach their
  destination. The GM makes a note of the time that’s
  elapsed, and any resources the player characters might
  expend in the process.

Player characters can pass through a hex in a number of
different ways, with each method consuming a different
amount of time. When determining how long player characters
spend in a Hex, the GM should refer to the following table.
For the table below, the time for travel assumes the starting
at the edge of one hex, and crossing either to the centre of
the hex, or to the opposite edge of the hex.

Actvity Time Taken
Exploring a new hex 4 hours
Journeying across an unexplored hex, carefully 4 hours
Crossing a hex, quickly and directly 2 hours
Exploring an individual location thoroughly 2 - 4 hours
Dealing with an encounter or challenge ½ hour

These times are approximate, and, if the GM feels the
player characters have spent a particularly long time
doing something, they should feel free to add hours, or
even reduce them if the player characters come up with
impressive and efficient ways of overcoming problems or
working as a team.

Generating an Encounter
As player characters travel across a hex, they’ll encounter
numerous different risks, and dangers. These pose different
challenges to the player characters which they need to
overcome in order to progress.
The GM determines what these encounters are, depending
on the setting, and the overall adventure they’re running.
Each island possesses a table of random encounters,
enemies or people the player characters might meet during
their time ashore. These don’t have to be used simply to
generate fights. Instead, the GM can use them in concert
with the additional encounter ideas below to construct a
sequence of exciting situations for the player characters to
navigate through.

Challenges
Environmental Hazard: Precisely as it sounds, the
player characters find themselves ensnared, trapped,
or otherwise inconvenienced by the landscape itself.
This could be as simple as a rockfall, as devastating
as a full on avalanche, or as unexpected as a patch of
quicksand. As GM, see if the player characters detect
the environmental hazard before it hits them (via
Perception checks, or perhaps they’ve been informed of
the possibility of such hazards).
Trap: The inhabitants of certain islands aren’t best
pleased by the visits of adventurers, looking to take a
genius loci here, a handful of treasure there. This means
sometimes, player characters might find themselves
needing to sneak past traps designed to ensnare or
kill. Again, the GM should allow player characters to
notice the traps, if they’re being particularly cautious,
or if they’ve been warned about hostile inhabitants. If
they’re striding boldly across the island, unconcerned
about such things, then falling into a pit trap, or a snare
is suddenly a major possibility.
Rival Party: There are lots of adventurers and explorers
on Flotsam, all of whom want to make their name, and
get to the genius loci before the player characters. This
often leads to confrontations, and, generally, makes
meeting a rival group something of a delicate dance.
The player characters can respond to the rivals as they
choose—as hostile or placatory as they wish—but their
rivals are going to respond, and they might not be in
the mood to back down!
Random Encounter: This one is the easiest. Roll on the
island’s random encounter table, and play out what
happens! Remember, not every random encounter
needs to turn violent—the player characters could
instead decide to try and reason their way out of a tight
spot, or simply go at with teeth and claws.

We’ve provided a good number of islands for you to explore in this book, and we hope to offer even more in the future.
But we also know GMs love to make their own deathtraps… I mean interesting locales… for player characters to explore.
So we’ve put together a series of random tables to help you do exactly that.
These offer a means of creating an island quickly, ready for your player characters to go exploring! So, grab yourself some
d10, and you’re good to go!

D10 Result Key Island Feature / Key Island Location
1 It rains crystals / A castle built from copper pennies
2 The rocks are transparent, revealing strange
pulsing brains within / A single cask of aged whiskey
3 Golden flowers grow over every surface / A large, Victorian-style house, with a magnificent
front garden
4 Each tree has eyes growing all over it / An ornate fountain
5 As soon as you set foot on the island,
you become… a ghost? / A large, mobile, chest-of-drawers
6 Mountains erupt from the earth at random / A grove, deep within an ancient forest
7 The land is ragged with weeping sores / A hovering platform, made from onyx
8 All the water is in fact blood / A laboratory, polished steel, and white
9 Everything can talk. It’s the loudest island in
the multiverse /
A bird nest, woven from impossibly fine strands
of copper
10 The flora and fauna is much too large –
giant wasps flitter everywhere / A pit, lined with teeth

D10 Result Genius Loci Effect
1 A fine set of silver cutlery / Gain advantage on all Charisma checks made with
goblinoid creatures
2 A pack of playing cards / The bearer gains +2 to Intelligence and Wisdom
3 A knife made from a Tarrasque tooth / Do an additional +1d6 slashing damage when the
bearer makes a successful attack
4 The skull of a long extinct creature / Add your proficiency bonus to one additional skill
of your choice
5 A length of hangman’s rope / Gain resistance to force damage
6 A golden thimble / Gain advantage on all Dexterity (Stealth) checks
7 A clay tablet, marked with a forgotten language / Gain proficiency in Arcana
8 A pair of trousers made of human skin / The bearer gains +2 to Strength and Constitution
9 A wooden, children’s toy / Gain resistance to fire damage
10 A tea pot / Gain advantage on all Wisdom saves

D10 Result Unusual Character(s) Quirk
1 Twelve cats in an ogre suit / A stunning smile
2 A pirate albatross / An unusual scar on their cheek
3 A tiefling, and her companion red panda / Always flicking a coin between their fingers
4 A one-armed dwarf fighter / Always bickering, either with themselves or each other
5 A small brown bear / Always has their hand on the hilt of a weapon
6 An exceptionally tall gnome / Wears an eyepatch, though doesn’t need one
7 Twin elves / Smokes cigars, constantly
8 A bugbear druid, and a human wizard / Is actually twelve cats in an ogre suit
9 A painfully thin silver Dragonborn / Laughs at normal statement, but never at jokes
10 A former town guard and soldier /Astonishingly bad haircut

"Ah, those old genius loci, eh? Remarkable things, and most
certainly worth the time it takes to hunt ‘em down Not sure it’s
worth the discomfort, though I’m much happier in my old chair,
these days There’s a great deal more brandy here, than there is
out there on those islands, I should think Though, to be fair, I did
drink a fair amount of the stuff while I was on the islands Cold
hours by the campfire, eh what? Always enlivened by a little snort
of the good stuff Anyway, yes, the genius loci! Remarkable things
I already said that, didn’t I? But well, we’ve all used magical
rings and such like, haven’t we? Or wands Waved a few of those
around in a fight Genius loci are a bit different And if you know
how to use ‘em, all the better for it!"

Genius loci all have different effects and rules associated
with their use. Despite this, there are several universal rules
which apply to all of them. These are as follows:
Genius loci are all rare artefacts, even if multiples exist
(as with the Brilliant Heartshards).
Genius loci require no attunement. If a player character
picks one up, they instantly gain access to its power.
Genius loci never run out and can never be broken.
A player character can never derive benefits from more
than one genius loci at a time. They may carry multiple
but must specify which genius loci they are using. A
player character may only change the genius loci they are
using during a long rest.