The Seer Senate

As Reef lurches across realities it can encounter many threats. When the plains below you are on fire and the silhouettes of dragons can be seen in the smoke, that’s an obvious threat. But a world in ruins, it’s only citizens wild animals, may not be as idyllic as expected. Over the years the Corsair Navy has awoken sleeping evil enough times that the are drills for that very purpose. Other times planets may be cursed, or filled with the plague. Even inhabited planets can sometimes pose a real threat to Reef, with powers capable of assaulting the floating realm.   To spot all of these problems and to ensure the squabbling cities of Rasht and Caspi don’t fall to fighting the Seer Senate was devised. Though most call it by it’s slang title ‘The Council of Addicts’. These are prophets who spend their time trying to divine all the evils that could befall Reef and guide it’s governance. To augment their visions of the future they take all manner of drugs. For visions of the commonplace things it’s Moko, for insight into conflict it’s Wizard’s Snuff and to pierce into those future hidden by magic it’s Green ice. The halls are often thick with incense, moko and other more esoteric drugs sourced from every world visited.   The Senate has the first and final say on how the fleets of Reef interact with the worlds they visit. While they don’t concern themselves with the plight of individuals they are able to see the likely outcomes of visiting a world. This insight burning in their minds they may decree only delicate raids, that don’t trouble powerful foes, are allowed. Sometimes they ban all visits to the world below no matter how tempting it may look. When people complain about this, especially after a long wasting, they may be invited to sit with the Senate and see what they see. Joining them in their smoking, singing and drumming. The visitor shares in the gazing, bearing witness to the terror of the endless paths of possibility and the nightmare on the horizon. Never has someone disagreed with the Senate twice.   Based in the original palace of the disgraced Redbone Corsairs, Mad Jacks original house, an apt housing as he despite prophetic warnings brought disaster to Reef. This huge horseshoe of stone is lined with windows that leak the sound of tranquil music and the odour of incense. Walking its halls it’s easy to get lost, stumbling into rooms of prophets chasing threads of the future. In the tall red-tiled corridors sounds bounce and meld into each other, inducing a trance-like state on the unwary.   The immense power of the Senate over Reef has meant that those with even a touch of prophecy have little option in what career they pursue. There are even rumours that the Senate, perhaps aware of some looming threat or just wary of others holding similar powers, forces all those with prophetic skill into its halls. More worrying than that is that others speak in whispers that the Senate deliberately keeps those within addicted to its fantastic range of narcotics, ensuring their loyalty. Fewer still point out that the Senate and it’s agents are perhaps safe from all form of revolution or oversight, able to focus the will of three hundred plus prophets to keep watch on those who might threaten their power and influence.