Board of Representatives
Aysea was never governed so much as managed, and the body doing the managing has changed its name but not its nature. Before the Division War it was simply the Board, a concentration of power that preferred to decide outcomes from private rooms while letting the city believe it was freer than it was. Open war made that impossible. Secrecy could not survive a conflict that demanded constant, visible presence, so the Board stepped into the light just far enough to steady what was left, renamed itself the Board of Representatives, and adopted the language of government without giving up the methods that built it. Its reach shrank from the whole of Aysea to the northern casino spine that became Stack City, while the labor and faith blocs broke away into Harbormarch and the Holy City of Vestige.
Today each representative holds a piece of the city's machinery, whether finance, resource distribution, enforcement, or infrastructure, and keeps a seat only as long as that sector holds. Behind the seats sit the powers that actually make the Stack run: the Merican Financial Institute, which defines value and tracks every Chip; the Blare Phagous, which turns bodies into Infection product; the Slowboat, which refines desperation into transaction; Bedlam, which manages controlled violence and the chem markets; the leader of the Roman, who manages spectacle; the Boardwalk, which keeps people and goods flowing inward; and Harrah's Gate, which controls access to the food of Brigands Growyards. They compete behind closed doors and hold together only through mutual need, and the Board's public authority runs strictly inside the limits they set.
The Gator remains the seat of power, not as a ceremonial hall but as a working hub where numbers are settled and conflicts are buried before they reach the street. Mortero Sinclair, a Semper Mort with a collector's patience, chairs it. The Board of Representatives presents itself as the government of Stack City, and that presentation is not false so much as incomplete. It does not run for the city's sake. It runs to keep the city working for the Board.
Today each representative holds a piece of the city's machinery, whether finance, resource distribution, enforcement, or infrastructure, and keeps a seat only as long as that sector holds. Behind the seats sit the powers that actually make the Stack run: the Merican Financial Institute, which defines value and tracks every Chip; the Blare Phagous, which turns bodies into Infection product; the Slowboat, which refines desperation into transaction; Bedlam, which manages controlled violence and the chem markets; the leader of the Roman, who manages spectacle; the Boardwalk, which keeps people and goods flowing inward; and Harrah's Gate, which controls access to the food of Brigands Growyards. They compete behind closed doors and hold together only through mutual need, and the Board's public authority runs strictly inside the limits they set.
The Gator remains the seat of power, not as a ceremonial hall but as a working hub where numbers are settled and conflicts are buried before they reach the street. Mortero Sinclair, a Semper Mort with a collector's patience, chairs it. The Board of Representatives presents itself as the government of Stack City, and that presentation is not false so much as incomplete. It does not run for the city's sake. It runs to keep the city working for the Board.
Structure
The Board's twenty-eight permanent seats are sorted into four equal divisions called sides. First side holds the newest members, and fourth side holds the most entrenched players. Tax revenue share grows significantly as a member advances around the Board, incentivizing ambitious juniors and vigilant seniors in equal measure. Some members eschew advancement entirely, choosing to build their lesser seats into substantial empires rather than risk the politics of climbing higher.
Beyond the voting members, specialist non-voting positions handle the city's infrastructure. Transportation, utilities, tax collection, and the jail system all fall to these specialists, who receive a full cut of tax revenue in exchange for absolute loyalty to the Board as a whole. They may favor no single member. Notable positions include the Communal Chest, which holds the purse strings, and Parking, which oversees open spaces and major gatherings.
The Board frequently approaches capable outside groups with stacks of credits and job offers. Success earns increasingly frequent and risky offers with correspondingly larger payouts. The Board finds it simpler to hire help than to manipulate others into doing what they want, a pragmatism that has served them well against every threat except the Final Knights, whose zealotry defies the transactional logic that governs everything else in Aysea.
Since the Division War the Board's structure has drifted away from the old four-sided arrangement toward sector control. Each representative now holds a segment of the city's operational machinery, whether finance, resource distribution, enforcement, or infrastructure, and keeps that seat only as long as the sector holds together. The real weight sits with the powers behind the seats: the Merican Financial Institute over value and Chips, the Blare Phagous over bodies and Infection, Bedlam over controlled violence and the chemical markets, the leader of the Roman over spectacle, the Boardwalk over inbound trade, and Harrah's Gate over the food of Brigands Growyards. Each depends on the others, and the Board coheres through that reliance rather than any shared loyalty. The Gator remains its working hub, and Mortero Sinclair chairs it.
Beyond the voting members, specialist non-voting positions handle the city's infrastructure. Transportation, utilities, tax collection, and the jail system all fall to these specialists, who receive a full cut of tax revenue in exchange for absolute loyalty to the Board as a whole. They may favor no single member. Notable positions include the Communal Chest, which holds the purse strings, and Parking, which oversees open spaces and major gatherings.
The Board frequently approaches capable outside groups with stacks of credits and job offers. Success earns increasingly frequent and risky offers with correspondingly larger payouts. The Board finds it simpler to hire help than to manipulate others into doing what they want, a pragmatism that has served them well against every threat except the Final Knights, whose zealotry defies the transactional logic that governs everything else in Aysea.
Since the Division War the Board's structure has drifted away from the old four-sided arrangement toward sector control. Each representative now holds a segment of the city's operational machinery, whether finance, resource distribution, enforcement, or infrastructure, and keeps that seat only as long as the sector holds together. The real weight sits with the powers behind the seats: the Merican Financial Institute over value and Chips, the Blare Phagous over bodies and Infection, Bedlam over controlled violence and the chemical markets, the leader of the Roman over spectacle, the Boardwalk over inbound trade, and Harrah's Gate over the food of Brigands Growyards. Each depends on the others, and the Board coheres through that reliance rather than any shared loyalty. The Gator remains its working hub, and Mortero Sinclair chairs it.
History
The Board was born during a thirteen-day meeting at the Gator in the early years after the Fall. The founders, a collection of survivors with enough ambition and resources to shape a city, determined that Aysea would be run as a single business venture. Limited seats on the ruling body would ensure competition, and the only qualification for membership would be the ability to produce results.
In those early years the Board faced opposition from the Trumped Cabal, a Pure Blood family that contested the new order with vicious fighting. The conflict ended in a truce that left the Cabal in control of roughly six of every ten residential properties in the city, making them the largest landlords in Aysea and a permanent irritant to the Board's authority. The truce held, but neither side forgot the blood that preceded it.
For most of its history the Board ran Aysea as one enterprise, enforcing contracts regardless of cruelty, funding the Imperials through taxes, keeping the jails, and treating slaves and secrets alike as line items. It worked through faceless intermediaries, and even well-connected locals could not say for certain who held which seat. That order came apart in the Three Year Division War, the civil conflict that fractured the city once Infection harvesting grew into an industry worth killing for. Open war left no room for the Board's old invisibility. Members were lost, exposed, or forced out as territory hardened into defensible zones, and the body that survived reshaped itself into the Board of Representatives. Its reach fell from the whole of Aysea to the northern casino spine that became Stack City, while the labor blocs and the faiths broke away into Harbormarch and the Holy City of Vestige.
The reshaped Board kept its old habits behind new vocabulary. Its representatives now govern openly, each holding a sector of the city and each leaning on the black-market powers that stand behind the seats. The change was one of presentation more than character. The Board of Representatives still exists to keep Stack City producing, and it still resolves its conflicts quietly, before they can reach the street.
In those early years the Board faced opposition from the Trumped Cabal, a Pure Blood family that contested the new order with vicious fighting. The conflict ended in a truce that left the Cabal in control of roughly six of every ten residential properties in the city, making them the largest landlords in Aysea and a permanent irritant to the Board's authority. The truce held, but neither side forgot the blood that preceded it.
For most of its history the Board ran Aysea as one enterprise, enforcing contracts regardless of cruelty, funding the Imperials through taxes, keeping the jails, and treating slaves and secrets alike as line items. It worked through faceless intermediaries, and even well-connected locals could not say for certain who held which seat. That order came apart in the Three Year Division War, the civil conflict that fractured the city once Infection harvesting grew into an industry worth killing for. Open war left no room for the Board's old invisibility. Members were lost, exposed, or forced out as territory hardened into defensible zones, and the body that survived reshaped itself into the Board of Representatives. Its reach fell from the whole of Aysea to the northern casino spine that became Stack City, while the labor blocs and the faiths broke away into Harbormarch and the Holy City of Vestige.
The reshaped Board kept its old habits behind new vocabulary. Its representatives now govern openly, each holding a sector of the city and each leaning on the black-market powers that stand behind the seats. The change was one of presentation more than character. The Board of Representatives still exists to keep Stack City producing, and it still resolves its conflicts quietly, before they can reach the street.
