Companies - the Charter, the Line, the Syndicate
A house is a name, a fund and a roll; it opens no door and pays no credit, and everything an officer does is written with their name.
A company is the thing with a name, a fund and a rank. One account, one company, bound to your Compact, up to forty names. It counts nothing the game counts - no dominion, no XP, no loot, no discount - and opens no door. It gives a name on the map, a plaque at a counter and an address book. Concord calls it the Charter, Sepulchre the Line, Ashaari the Syndicate; the word decides how the door opens.
Founding
Docked at a Trade port or Arms wing of your own Compact: /house found <name>. Up to 24 characters, unique in your Compact however it is spelled, never one of the game’s own names. Then two pilots off your own ledger say /house yes at the same counter within ten minutes, and the founding fee is paid. The two hands are the real price: a house founded by people who have finished something with you starts with three members and a history.
Joining
| How a name gets on the roll | |
|---|---|
| Charter (Concord) | an officer offers; you yes |
| Line (Sepulchre) | two members stand for you; you yes |
| Syndicate (Ashaari) | you buy a stake, nobody’s hand needed; a large enough stake makes you a partner |
Leaving is free and instant. Being struck costs only the name.
Rank
A hand does nothing. An officer takes names on, strikes them, and sets the house’s word - a mark beside one writ kind at a counter, once a week. The head appoints officers, renames once a season, dissolves, and alone spends the fund. The Line appoints nobody: its officers are derived from weeks on the roll and ledger rows shared with the house. Every use of a rank is written to the acts with the name that used it.
The fund
Members fill it themselves: dues, a standing instruction of nought to ten per cent of an earning, paid after the assay duty and any Tithe. A Line’s dues reach only what is sold across a counter; a Syndicate takes the stake at the door and nothing after. Nothing ever leaves the fund into a pilot’s purse; dissolving burns it.
The head spends it on two things. The claim puts the house’s name over the zone you are docked in for a ledger week, at a standing price. Carrying a road puts the house’s name on a lane’s sailings for a week; a sailing robbed under it goes on your record. Neither opens a door. Convoys.
What the roll gives
Every station, every season, carries the name of the company that did the most work at its counter - the House over the berths. The roll of the dead keeps the hulls members lost. And the roll is an address book: a signal reaches every name on it, anywhere on the map.