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Black Wombat posted:It's best not to think about it. I certainly won't be. Maybe the officers are all in your head. Or they were ghosts the whole time.
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Mar 9, 2015 22:30
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Schroedingers Officers. They both exist and don't exist until you need them. Then the crew flips out because how the gently caress did you get here. Schroedinger will never not be my go-to answer for this kind of poo poo.
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Mar 9, 2015 22:36
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I just got accepted as a crew member on a ship. My wife is furious of course, we just started up that salon and all, but I placated her with talk of the things I'll learn. The secrets to be precise. Although I will probably forget about it shortly. Also, I was growing bored with it all. And with her. So, now I am part of a ships crew. I do hope it is more interesting than my own voyages to Polythreme. It is an infuriatingly repetetive place.
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Mar 10, 2015 00:16
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Captain, should I eventually be hired, will I be able to bring my Corresponding Ocelot on board? Or a nice Parabolan kitten? Both are fine ratters in their own way.
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Mar 10, 2015 00:46
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Officers don't intermingle with crew. That's rank-inappropriate fraternization. And officers don't get their hands dirty with crew work, like maintaining the engines or manning cannon or getting eaten by zeemonsters. Presumably
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Mar 10, 2015 01:23
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RickVoid posted:Schroedingers Officers. They both exist and don't exist until you need them. Then the crew flips out because how the gently caress did you get here. That's why you get the terror spike if you do it at sea; in port you can hide the sudden existence of a new officer by claiming the old one went ashore and you picked up the new one, but out at sea the crew get a little concerned when an officer spontaneously transforms into a different officer who didn't exist until just now. That said there is an event you can trigger at a certain location which suggests that the officers do exist if you go down to the big coliseum which I cannot remember the name of one of the options is to go mad and eat all your crew, this eats you down to 1 crew member and eats all your officers except the Sigil-Eaten Navigator who presumably joins in. IMJack posted:Presumably There's actually a very small chance you will float back to London if you die at sea, it's like a 1% chance and I've only had seen it happen once back during the beta but the in-game text refers to it so I assume its still there.
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Mar 10, 2015 03:56
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Neopie posted:Question! What's the correspondence? I heard it's the key that opens Mr Stones' vaults. Apparently it's hidden in Mr Pages' library. I know this much: it's the only way you'll ever see starlight down here.
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Mar 10, 2015 06:26
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Bring me inny 'ol crap ya wan' Cap'n an me 'n da Chef will cook ya up sumpfin roigt tasty roight quick!
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Mar 10, 2015 06:50
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The crew includes the Captain/you, so in the strange case where you eat everyone due to insanity or whatever and are at 1 crew, any officers that still exist are ether officers or something. There's one particular doctor you can get with a little luck and high Terror who embodies this rather well.
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Mar 10, 2015 07:25
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"Um. Hello. I guess my name is Lotus now, and I'm here to join your crew?" The urchin scuffs her feet against the slimy dock - wait, no, not an urchin. Just an exceptionally short woman. With albinism, apparently. "I'm not too terribly strong or anything, but I've absolutely, certainly stopped growing and can get into all sorts of tiny places. I used to advise Madame on, um... matters philosophical, metaphysical, metaphorical and mixological, but then I got too good at that job and here I am. It'd be neat to go out over the zee again. On a ship this time!" "Oh, uh, you've got people. Well, if you ever need me, I'll be here. Not that I hope they die or anything. Don't die! Chess is complicated!"
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Mar 10, 2015 07:27
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Coolguye posted:The crew includes the Captain/you, so in the strange case where you eat everyone due to insanity or whatever and are at 1 crew, any officers that still exist are ether officers or something. That character is super neat, especially if you have Maybe's Daughter at the same time.
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Mar 10, 2015 12:30
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from the Evening Tidings, back page, Happenings section: Elusive Zee-Captain Returns to City Bringing Ill Luck Hunter's Keep has burned to the ground! Word from Wolfstack Docks has revealed that grand, staid mansion caught alight upon visitation by Captain Petra Blackwood, formerly of the Correspondence. Nothing remains of the dear sisters' former home, save charred stones and timber. Blackwood was known to visit the sisters frequently and take luncheon, although what occurred within the lonely manse remains secret. Is it only coincidence the devastation occurred during one of Blackwood's frequent stops? Defenders may suggest in fact fortunate timing; though we point out that the fate of Phoebe, Lucy, and Cynthia are as yet unknown, nor their house-staff. Street urchins report that after delivering the sad news, Blackwood travelled straightaway to the Department of Marine Acquisitions; presumably to sell treasure acquired at zee, though one of a suspicious mind may suggest such valuables did not travel far at all. Perhaps Captain Blackwood had naught to do with the unfortunate blaze; yet we are confident that had Blackwood not made the sisters' acquaintance, the lights of their home would be shining still. The Admiralty declined to comment upon any points; we did not expect otherwise. Blackwood could not be found, having quickly purchased and armed a tidy corvette and put back out to zee as quickly as possible. Upon speaking to the corvette's seller, it was revealed that the trade of ships was perhaps not wholly on the up-and-up. He commented, "We 'ad agreed price an' done the deal, we 'ad, an' all was well, until the cap'n 'ad gone back dockside. I 'ad seven 'undred echos less'n I ought. I counted 'em three times an' was sure of it. I got no idea what 'appened. I made to chase 'er but she 'ad already steamed out." Very little about Blackwood is known; a zee-captain's early journeys are rarely notable, and the careers of most do not last over-long. Rumours at Wolfstack Docks mark Blackwood as a queer specimen. There is a fragmented story involving a swim at the Salt Lions; another is a whispered zailor's tale about hunting colors of the Neath. We shall continue enquiries and report back soon. S.M. Sorry if I got anything wrong, I don't know anything about anything 
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Mar 10, 2015 23:54
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This is amazing. 
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Mar 11, 2015 00:31
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Oh my god, I now want to buy a newspaper that doesn't exist. Its beautiful!!
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Mar 11, 2015 00:44
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skoolmunkee posted:Sorry if I got anything wrong, I don't know anything about anything
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Mar 11, 2015 00:53
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It's just the perfect level of snide, suggestive commentary. That's what really makes it feel like that was pulled from the sort of tabloid rag that you just know is consumed all over Fallen London. Now I want Investigative Reporter SM to go undercover for a journey on the Unfinished.
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Mar 11, 2015 00:53
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RickVoid posted:It's just the perfect level of snide, suggestive commentary. That's what really makes it feel like that was pulled from the sort of tabloid rag that you just know is consumed all over Fallen London. Oh, that would be perfect! The newspaper article was already a perfect compliment to a grand campaign! It should go on page one! Um, of the thread. And the newspaper as well if it existed.
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Mar 11, 2015 09:23
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You could change the name to "The Magazine Formerly Known As The London Magazine", a canonical Fallen London rag.
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Mar 11, 2015 11:00
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Ah I am glad I'm not steppin on any toes! Basically I was too impatient to wait to be a crew member.  LoonShia posted:You could change the name to "The Magazine Formerly Known As The London Magazine", a canonical Fallen London rag. I am sure SM is flattered you think her writing is that high of quality; even if that were so, she has no editorial contacts and must cut her teeth on hastily printed broadsheets like every other struggling would-be journalist.
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Mar 11, 2015 17:54
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Journal entry 11 – A most particular smell The journal of Captain Petra Blackwood January 19th, 1888 – Morning  I collected my crew from a night of drinking and we departed London with the usual fanfare – None, save the noise we made ourselves. I think the crew is proud of the new vessel. Jones, in particular, keeps telling everyone else – especially the new zailors – how much better off we are now than we were before. I think that's a good sign. It means he's accepting them on board. I was worried, after so long with one crew, that the newcomers might be rejected – but I suppose a zailor is a zailor, at the ringing of the bells.  We will be heading east, through the Forest, and then south into unexplored waters. We still seek Port Cecil. January 19th, 1888 – afternoon  We arrived at the Morn with little trouble. Even the pirates seemed reluctant to show their faces. We docked and I took some time to wander to Morn. It's a strange place, but beautiful, in its way. I wandered to the highest point I could before the rickety ladders looked like they could collapse under me. It was a beautiful sight.    The sea, the false-stars, the breeze. I thought of my ship, far below. How much we fight against what is designed for us. The zee itself would crush us, the masters would tax us, and if Polythreme had its way our ship would probably set off on its own. Even most of the captains I know of only zail safe routes, taking cargoes back and forth. We would be different. We would always be different. I've decided on the name of my new ship. I'll tell the crew when again I descend. January 21st, 1888 – Morning  On our way to Demeaux Island, we passed a island formation called the Phosgene Bleaks. The whole place smells foul, and the gasses sting the eyes. Fortunately, it isn't truly dangerous – just somewhere worth avoiding.  We arrived at the funging station in the wee hours of the morning. Fortunately, work goes on all night and day here, so we had hands to help us put into port.    At port, I had my crew spend some time ranging near the station to gather a few mushrooms to augment our stores. While this happened, I was approached by a man who begged me to accept him on as part of the crew. As our berths are not yet full, I went ahead and accepted him – His name is Voltaic, and he claims to be a very hard worker. We shall see. We put out to the south, into the proper unknown. January 21st, 1888 – Afternoon   We found a very strange island south of the funging station. It has a massive face carved into it, staring at the roof. When I landed, there was no-one to greet my ship, and the walls of the city were not opened for me. I will return another time. You can do nothing here but collect a port report without SAY! here in Visage. I'll hit it on the next pass, as idling and waiting for it to build up feels too gamey for me. We departed eastward. January 22st, 1888 – Very early morning   As the night watch took over, we started to pass enormous mushrooms sprouting from below the Unterzee. I'd thought the ones on Demeaux Island were large, as I had once thought the ones out in the marshes behind Watchmaker's Hill were large, but these, I think – I hope – have proven to me what a large mushroom really is once and for all. Voltaic was not amused. Most of the rest of the crew was, until I decided to dock.     It was a relatively clear day, one without huge clouds of choking spores. It was a strange place. Shroomers (As the residents call themselves – so quaint!) are a strange people. The Zee terrifies them, beyond all reason. I heard several of my crew members trying to convince individuals that it would be rather safe to take a boat back to London, but no matter what tact they took, the shroomers only got more agitated thinking about it. Meanwhile, at least one crewman was happy to feed them every horrifying rumor they knew, probably sending some poor shroomer into a spasm of terror. I encouraged them to tell me a few tales in return. They're odd people. But would be willing to trade with me, for honey. I may have to bring some, someday. January 23rd, 1888 – Noon Early this morning, we arrived in the Sea of Autumn. Remote, and beautiful, but the whole place has a strange air. It makes one remember things one has lost.   We found the Mangrove Collage, squatting between these islands. A strange little colony of philosophers and poets who desired a way to be even further out-of-touch with reality than London permits, it sits in the embrace of the fungal jungle. I can hardly believe it still exists.      Yes, there's a lot of things to do here. Of particular note is the 'Unpick the secrets -' storylets, which let you trade 77 Fragments and 7 of the appropriate type of story for a secret - a huge discount from the 500ish fragments it normally costs. But we need our stories, for now. I brought aboard two new people here; one, a woman who said she was an engineer, and second, a woman who was due in Venderbight.   Before we left, I had my crew help themselves to the bounties of a part of the island that seemed relatively unoccupied. It was enough food to keep us going for days, and it's fresh – A welcome change, even if it's not the tastiest fare the Neath has to offer.  The scholars and poets whisper of a place called the Wisp-Ways, further inland. As eager as I am to explore, there's no way we could progress without a enormous quantity of light sources. We shall have to return properly equipped. With nothing more to do here now, I departed northward.   January 26th, 1888 – Morning After a long stretch of exploring the Sea of Autumn and then heading north, we've entered the waters of the Chelonate.  This place is remarkable, despite the smell. The hunters of the Chelonate have made their living killing the largest, most vicious things the zee has to offer, and the reeking remnants of their victories are everywhere.   The water here is a brackish red and occasionally home to swarms of flies amid the fouler clots of blood of gristle. And entering Schableport isn't much better. While the hunters have cleaned out the shell that is their home, they have since re-decorated it with rotting zee-beast corpses of all kinds to bring back the nausea-inducing aroma that perhaps they'd come to appreciate.  Despite this, the Plausible Surgeon still wanted to stay here. He left a handful of echos with me as he departed eagerly among the putrid husks of the place.  I myself wish to spend no longer here than I have too. I speak to a few hunters, gather a little informaton, and consider that enough.  However, on the way out, I discovered a place selling the bones of monsters – the very bones the Merchant Venturer was looking for. I am certain I could have haggled for a better price if the stall was not situated directly below a rotting crab carcass. Even so, I will make quite a profit.  At least this nauseating stop was worth it. I've given my crew orders to steam north as fast as we can. The sooner we're away from here, the better, but I don't think it will truly leave us until we're back in London and able to take proper baths. 
Black Wombat fucked around with this message at 20:35 on Mar 11, 2015 |
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Mar 11, 2015 20:28
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skoolmunkee posted:
This is excellent. Thank you.
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Mar 11, 2015 20:29
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How come you keep so many of your crew alive? I often find myself steaming into London at half-power due to madness and monsters. (Admitedly I also sail far further than is wise on every trip and am easily distracted)
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Mar 11, 2015 20:59
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Angrymog posted:How come you keep so many of your crew alive? I often find myself steaming into London at half-power due to madness and monsters. (Admitedly I also sail far further than is wise on every trip and am easily distracted) Well, to avoid the half-crew penalties, naturally. I usually run a very fine line with how much fuel I bring with me, and winding up only being able to go half-speed would ruin me. Honestly, I should be losing more people than I am. Many of the risky things that kill crew if you fail are totally, totally worth it. Collecting the port report from Gaider's Morn, for example. But I don't want to burn through you good people too quickly, so I am trying to avoid it, for the most part. They aren't that important.
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Mar 11, 2015 21:33
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Interesting choice, thinking about your future when looking at the zee from above. I personally find that that is a good place to cash in the attention of the gods, but to be fair I have found no other use for Storm's and Stone's attention. I'd also like, if you finally decide to butcher your crew at the altar of profit, to take the place of the unfortunate victims. You can call my character however you like, but I'd prefer if you mantained the P.G. initials.
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Mar 11, 2015 21:53
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paradoxGentleman posted:Interesting choice, thinking about your future when looking at the zee from above. I personally find that that is a good place to cash in the attention of the gods, but to be fair I have found no other use for Storm's and Stone's attention. Mechanically speaking, I think the 'Think about your past' one is the best. I'm hoping to get that event often enough to show them all off, in time. It's one of the pseudo-generic events that can happen at multiple ports. Then I can just roll on down the list.
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Mar 11, 2015 22:02
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Black Wombat posted:Well, to avoid the half-crew penalties, naturally. Sorry, I meant how, not why.
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Mar 11, 2015 22:59
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Angrymog posted:Sorry, I meant how, not why. Oh! Well, like, 90% of it is just about knowing what SAY events to avoid, and having a high enough Veils and enough good sense to not get into too many fights. Many of the less civilized islands (Places like the Morn and I&M Co. Funging station) have high chances of costing you crew if you fail rather difficult challenges. Other than that, if you notice your hull getting down enough that you're going to start losing crew, don't be afraid to kill your light, go full power to engines, and GTFO. If you kill your engines as soon as the enemy unaggros (and you can tell that they do, even if they're off-screen, if you have the option to leave combat mode), you can usually avoid a fire.
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Mar 11, 2015 23:26
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Got to emphasize the veils thing if you have trouble with monsters. I played often back when the game was in beta and had some trouble with monsters back then. Since beginning anew in the released game with a dedicated Veils character (i.e. start with high veils and constantly buff it from there) while scrupulously avoiding troublesome fights (which gets easier and easier the higher your veils is and the more willing to turn off your lights you are), I have yet to lose my starter character and I can count the number of zailors I've lost to aggression at sea on a single hand (2). Hull damage has been fairly minimal too. That's from a bit over 2 years while having literally almost all of the map explored and gradually getting rich as Croesus (which is good, because that's the Ambition I'm currently following up on) from running around port reporting and trade routing. Monsters are less of a problem with a veils character than running out of fuel or supplies. I've also discovered something funny: with enough veils, and staying out of the enemy's vision range, you can actually sometimes manage to stay hidden while shooting at them. It's fairly amusing to hunt down crack pirate vessels who haven't even got the foggiest who the gently caress's shooting at them from the dark of the zee. With the poorest gun in the game, at that. Death by ignominy, I calls it.
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Mar 12, 2015 00:31
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As someone who's currently playing Fallen London this LP is really tempting me to get Sunless Sea even though I wasn't super interested before. Lots and lots of interesting little tidbits of lore, doled out faster than Fallen London without the adventure limit.
Wolpertinger fucked around with this message at 03:12 on Mar 12, 2015 |
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Mar 12, 2015 02:25
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quote:
Yes. Your gooncrew aren't. 
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Mar 12, 2015 02:46
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Visage is absolutely my favorite port.
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Mar 12, 2015 05:42
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Journal entry 12 – Checkerboard dreams The journal of Captain Petra Blackwood January 27th, 1888 -  We departed the Chelonate with all haste, and headed north, past the last few rotting remains of Chelonate hunter victories. For quite some time, we steamed into the dark, lonely zee, until the lookout saw a golden glittering on the horizon.   A beam of sunlight broke through the roof of the Neath, here. It seemed unreal. The colors too bright, the island itself too alive to exist in the Unterzee. The crew crowded around the rail to watch as we steamed closer. I think a few of us were crying. I may have been one of them. The light burned where it touched me, but I did not care. I looked so different there; my skin was pale white, not pale green. My hair was a dark, dark red. My crew seemed different as well – Filled with color and courage and memories suddenly bubbling to the surface. I ordered my zailors to put ashore at the dock that had been built here, and to explore the island – quickly. We could not stay long.       The island was bursting with all manner of life. Mangrove Collage seemed like the Prickfinger Wastes in comparison. I saw Grandalt trying to keep the zailors focused on filling the hold, but it was no use – Much food was gathered, but they were also simply too entranced to make this a solid, coherent foraging mission. I myself became distracted by a lone home built on the island. Who did this? Was it someone who knew how they wanted to die? Or did the dying come as a surprise? It was hard to say. If only I could stay here, and live in this beauty! But I can't. By the time my crew had finished gathering a few bushels of supplies, my eyes were burning, and my skin was turning red. We could stay no longer. Reluctantly, we went back aboard the Unfinished and departed once more into the darkness. The only zailor I found to have stayed aboard was A.J Kalan. She claimed the sun scared the zee-bats, and she needed to stay and keep them calm – but she had a fear in her own eyes as well. Maybe she is the wisest of us all. Janauary 28th, 1888 - As if to drive home the point that the surface is a place of beauty and wonder, while we muddle about in a land of terror and darkness, our trip north has brought us to what must be the worst place in all the Neath. Have I ever told you, journal, my opinion of sorrow-spiders?  I hate them. I have little revulsion from almost any other creature in the Neath – although some I view with caution and a healthy respect. No, I reserve my hate for sorrow-spiders alone.  And here we are, now, in the largest nest of them. I cannot say, however, that I am not also curious about them. I have heard that some people have learned to live a sort of symbiotic relationship with them. I decided to investigate, against the complaints of several crew members.  They call their settlement 'The Nativity', which has enough implications that I am surprised the Bishop of Southwark himself has not leaped across the whole wide Zee and burned this place with his righteous anger.       I spent some time speaking to various people about town, and handed out a few bottles of mushroom wine I'd taken from pirates to loosen tongues. It seems they have some kind of arrangement with the sorrow-spiders, indeed, for they refused to speak of them – merely of their 'generous neighbors', elsewhere on the island. Even as I prepared to assist them with their festival to celebrate the spider-squeezings they harvest and sell, they would tell me little, other than that I should not leave the town without an escort. I was, however, approached by a very sensible man. He wanted nothing more than to get off the island. He said he was a doctor. He would work for his way. I accepted, of course – Because he would be useful, but also because I feel duty-bound to help as many people as possible escape this scuttering, eye-stealing hell. With that, I gladly headed north. Away from this place. Here, two pages are torn out of the journal. They would be located later, inside of Captain Blackwood's sea-chest, in a separate envelope labeled 'Other peoples' words'. It is clearly written in her handwriting, but somehow seems older than the rest of her journal – the ink slightly more faded. January 28th, 1888 We will be in Irem today. We will have felt the warm breezes from cold ice and have known the unusual customs of its people. They have always been polite, yet strangeness fills them and their way of life. I will always want to see this place.  Irem's harbor is beautiful. The many-headed serpent that will be constructed here has been a thing of beauty and wonder. The crew I have bought find the place wondrous, but also slightly unnerving. But there are things I will have done here, so I must finish them promptly. I spoke to the man about the whisper-lock box I have. He tells me it is owned by another zee-captain, and only she will know the words to open it. Much like the Scholar, he has offered me a price for it, but I seek to open it as much for curiosity as for its contents. I have found the captain and learned the passphrase. All is well.     The markets of Irem are unlike anything that has been or will be or can be. They offer goods for memories and stories of times past and future. A story of my voyage buys me several bushels of parabola linen that have sold well in London. I also learn the Irem have paid me well for coffee. I can use this to my advantage.     I am purchasing a strange fish here in the market, and will be speaking to Maybe's daughter about the nature of her voyage. She was a strange zailor. I knew more than before about her.     She has sought her mother. She knows not where she will be but must find that place. I assisted her in searching Irem, but no-one knew when she would be here. There is no choice but to continue our search at other places, times. Irem is as beautiful as it is confusing. My heart will feel heavy leaving. But there will be too many mysteries to solve. I am needed elsewhere. I have returned someday. End of expunged section. January 30th, 1888 – Morning We have left Irem's waters, and all seems to have returned to normal. However, the crew are starting to grow unsettled. I hear murmurs about us never returning to London, about the zee eating us. Even perfectly normal events have started to take on a mystical air that I must dispel.  You can also resolve this by spending a Zee-story, which lowers terror by 5. Not a bad choice if you're having trouble. Today, we set down on Nuncio again. During our trip, the nature of this place has nibbled at the back of my mind. Today, I have decided, I will take a shift at the Dead Letters office and see if I can thus sate my curiosity. January 30th, 1888 – Evening I have worked my shift, and I can say, without reservation – no. The mystery has only deepens.    The dead-letter office seems to be primarily under the care of a rat. A very smart rat, and a mechanic who has created a remarkable device capable of restoring the letters that wash up on the shore. I wonder if such a device could exist elsewhere, or if Nuncio itself is special.   After helping him sort mail for several hours, I asked him if I could be permitted to enter some of the deeper rooms of the complex. He was surprisingly open and helpful about it.     Below Nuncio sits an enormous cavern, filled with what seems to be the lost mail of bygone eras. Something has been drawing things here far longer than London has been in the Neath; there must be such wonders below! But the darkness is beyond oppressive. I will need to return with light if I am to properly search it, which I shall, someday soon. For now, we head south-west, to Khan's Shadow, to restock some of our supplies. January 31st, 1888 -  An otherwise unremarkable day only punctuated by an attack by a group of rats who fancied themselves pirates. It went poorly for them.   Febuary 1st, 1888 - Morning My dreams have been becoming more intense lately. I welcome this, of course, for the secrets of the Mirror-Marches can come into the mind in many ways.   Pictured – Something usually not worth gaining 5 terror. We stopped shortly in Khan's Shadow. Just long enough to purchase some fuel and ask around for Maybe's mother – who had been here, once, but currently was not.   I purchased a good supply of fuel, and we were on our way. I decided to take a trip through the Khanate. I'd avoided it long enough – And Port Cecil might well be on the other side of it. And in any case, Khan's Shadow was very close, and once we're in the city itself, I don't think they will fire on me without provocation. I hope. Febuary 1st, 1888 – Evening The Khanate is quite a place. Abuzz with activity, certainly, but in a strange way. The flows of life are similar to London, but different enough to be obvious even to a casual observer.  We entered through the southern gate, and visited the Copper Quarter – the one part of the city open to all forgieners. It is not a noteworthy or important part of the city, and I am certain that isn't without intent. The whole place is a low-class commercial quarter, and those merchants even willing to deal with me are only interested in scamming as many coins from my pocket into theirs as possible. And it all happens under the omnipresent, blindingly obvious eyes of the White-and-Golds. They could learn a few lessons from the special constables, let me tell you.      That isn't to say the whole trip was a waste. I encountered a unusual religious observance. The people here worship, or at least revere, the sky – the real sky, not the false one. After seeing the sun, perhaps I can understand why, a little. But the sky is very, very far from here, and almost no-one here has ever seen the surface. I imagine if they wound up below a REAL sky, they would be terrified.  North of the Copper Quarter lies to Nephrite Quarter. I'm told it is possible for a foreign merchant to be permitted to do business there. But I will need to be properly licensed, and for that, I will need to go north and speak to their aristocracy.   The homes of the rich Khanates are quite lavish – beautiful, in a barbaric kind of way. Not homes, for all their glory, fit for a chimneysweep or chandler, but nice, I suppose.    A short visit to the court let me learn that some of the current fads, which I could cater to in order to curry favor, should I deign to do so. I doubt it, however. Seriously, getting into the Nephrite quarter is REALLY not worth it. It takes many hundreds of echos worth of bribes, and there's not really anything too valuble in there. And since you have Khan's Shadow nearby for resupply, you don't even need to worry about securing it in that regard. However, even if you don't plan to do much here, exploring the place is nice – There's so many little landmarks you can get about two full secrets worth of fragments for fully exploring the place.   We continued north, out of the Abora Gate, and as we left the Khanate behind, we almost immediately spotted strange coral growths. We've found the reefs. Port Cecil won't be far away now. Febuary 2nd, 1888 – Morning  At last, we've found Port Cecil. It's even stranger than I imagined; it looks less like man built a city into the side of a coral reef than that a coral reef grew around a city man had built.      I have several orders of business to attend too, now that I'm here. First, I decided to meet the contact the Admiralty has here. Surprisingly, he'd been waiting here, patiently, for someone to pick up the message – Are zee-captains so afraid to become involved in the affairs of the Empire that this information went undelivered for this long? It might explain a little of the state of the Empire.  Next was the matter of Scintillack, for the Widow. I gathered the more hale of my crew together – Many of their number had started to murmur of bad omens and poor sleep. I would not subject them to this.   Gathering Scintillack, even merely picking it rather than breaking it from the formations all around, is a strange experience. It is impossible to shake the feeling that it is... Somehow watching you. Even now, with it secured in tightly-closed boxes deep in the hold, I feel it is observing us somehow. I hope this isn't a plot by the Widow to spy on our ship – if it is, she'll be sorely dissapointed. It seemed like a pity to come here and not have at least one run at the local specialty – Chess. I sat down with another neophyte player, and defeated him handily. Playing here opens the mind in strange ways, lulling one into kind of a waking dream. It is an enjoyable experience.    My second match did not end well for me – and it was time to depart anyway. My ship is prepared, and we set off. Westward. For home. Febuary 2nd, 1888 – Evening We were attacked by a most vicious creature! A albino eel, fully as long as our ship, that broke from the surf not fifty feet from us. It was far more aggressive than other zee-beasts we had fought; in the close quarters of the reefs, we had little room to maneuver, and it shook our ship so badly I feared we might break apart before it succumbed to our continual barrage of canon-fire.  I completely failed to screen shot this fight properly. The thing was waiting right outside of Port Cecil, and I wasn't expecting it to be so MEAN. A recent patch totally overhauled how zee-beasts fight. It's difficult to do more than just exchange blows with them. This dramatically changes the game, but probably for the better – it's been weird, zailing around and seeing some of the nastiest things the game has and just thinking, 'cha-CHING!' That won't happen anymore.    I ordered it butchered for parts – Eel-bones are quite valuable, and Jones kept one of the teeth as a trophy of some kind. Slaan reported later that, while butchering it, she discovered that it had swallowed a crate of mushroom wine whole. I think, for once, I will have no issues keeping the crew away from a large stash of alcohol.  Yeah, it jumped me this close to port. The jerk. Febuary 4th, 1888  We stopped in at Pigmote Island to pick up some supplies and check in on our rodent friends. All seems to be well there with little to report.  Febuary 5th, 1888  We've arrived in Venderbight. The first order of business is to reunite our old passenger with his... Friend? Lover? I guess it doesn't matter. She was concerned, and while I certainly considered telling her the truth of the matter of what I know of tomb-colonists, I knew very well that unless she was willing to return, I would likely never receive my pay for the initial trip from London to Venderbight, nearly a quarter of a year ago.   He did pay rather generously, thankfully. Maybe someone older and wiser (Heavens knows there are plenty of such people here) made him understand that MOST Zee-Captains would have not taken to being unpaid for the first trip so well, and he is now making amends. Well! Let us not go forwards with hate in our hearts, but I do hope he never feels the need to leave Venderbight again. Or I shall ask for payment up-front. In any case, I knew exactly what to do with this money.   The head chef of the Vengeance of Jonah was eager to come aboard; at last, no more meals of gruel and bat-bits. Now we can have a Chiroptian polencia cake with a reduction of redspore and vinegar. It will be much better, I'm sure. With the Bandaged Poissonnier settled in nicely – a task that took most of a day, with all the gadgets he brought into the galley – We head south. Finally. Finally. To London. This trip has been marvelous, but also taxing. I admit, I have been finding myself edgy. Many of the crew have started acting unusual. Meis has taken to staying at the railing of the ship and starting north, standing motionless for hours at a time. I think Snark is developing an addition. Arch and Night, two of the newcomers, have decided they hate each other for reasons that don't make sense and neither can agree on. And I caught Inferior singing to his pet slug. He said it'd had a nightmare and was scared. I don't know what to think. Maybe it did. Maybe we're all having a nightmare. Maybe we can wake up and everything will be beautiful and bright and like it was under the sun. I'm going to take some blackspore powder. Try to sleep between here and London. Grandalt can handle this leg home. Maybe the dreams will leave me alone tonight. I'll have a lot to do tomorrow in port. So much to do.    
Black Wombat fucked around with this message at 09:44 on Mar 12, 2015 |
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Mar 12, 2015 09:40
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The trick to fighting Zee beasts now appears to be to get them right at the limit of your cannon range and then back away from them; most Zee beasts don't move much faster than a basic ship in reverse so once you get some +engine power going you can just hold them at max range and pound away forever and they either can't reach you or can't get into range to initiate a charge in the first place. That said it doesn't work at all on some of the nastier Zee beasts with ranged attacks like Mt. Nomad; for those you just gotta tank it.
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Mar 12, 2015 11:07
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I'm planning to get an Icarus and some doomed monster hunters before fighting stuff like Nomad.
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Mar 12, 2015 12:52
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Ooh, Petra writing about Irem will be wonderful. That was one hell of a trip and I'm amazed by your ability to keep your crew alive and more or less sane. Also, Khanate is awesome in every way, including its music.
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Mar 12, 2015 13:02
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Angrymog posted:I'm planning to get an Icarus and some doomed monster hunters before fighting stuff like Nomad. If you grab a lump of blue scintillack you can sit in the dark and let your Icarus charge, fire and then immediately fire again to kill Mt. Nomad instantly, only risk is if Nomad decides to wander in your direction before you're ready. Not entirely sure if it's actually worth the expense though.
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Mar 12, 2015 13:14
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Oi, ca'pn, there seems ter be a bunch'a jolly right booze in this here lit'l beastie. Would you care to have a taste? 
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Mar 12, 2015 18:03
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That's one filled out looking map. How much is there left?
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Mar 12, 2015 18:28
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Gamerofthegame posted:That's one filled out looking map. How much is there left?  I zoom in on the map when I can to log individual trips. We still have either four or five major story ports left, depending on how the Isle of Cats goes.
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Mar 12, 2015 19:30
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I must admit, this game is has an amazing way of creating these bizarre, alien locales and gives them all their own unique story and flavor. So after we visit all of the major ports, what becomes the focus of the game? It seems like there's still a lot of mysteries in the zee left unsolved, but I'm curious as to how the game progresses when the thrill of exploring new, insanity-inducing locales is gone. Speaking of which, it's been too long since I've done a log, and I want to chronicle Doc's descent into madness. From the Journal of "Doc" Snark: -incomprehensible writing- Words...write down words. Wish they'd stop moving around so much been drinking too much Anywayanyway need to talk about places. That I've been to. gently caress me, this hangover hurts-will have to be bastard and focus on things related to me. First: the north. Nearly froze to death. Got attacked by killer iceburgs. Incidentally stopped being surprised by zeelife. Saw Mount Nomad and nearly shat myself from just looking at it. Visited the Chapel of Lights. Captain ate there, and now I'm certain she's developed a taste for raw meat...creepy. That's all I want to remember about that region. Hangover has gone down. Which is bad, because I don't want to remember these next parts. We finally visited Nuncio, which would hopefully have something that would point me towards my sister, wherever she may be. Didn't stay for too long, though. Then we saw...saw...the clay men. Gods help me, something is wrong with that place-those men just stared at me... After...that, we visited Quaker's Island, which was a surprising pleasure as some of the crew decided to put on an impromptu performance. I wish we had stayed, because our mechanic caused one of the clay men to become possessed by something and it attacked the crew. Galaxian was killed by it...I can still see what's left of his body in my mind's eye... That bastard mechanic then managed to convince our captain to let him live-said he had a "great secret" hidden somewhere. I wish that fucker was fed to the sharks, but our great captain is a sucker for those sorts of things. Sometime later, we returned to Hunter's Keep, where... ...I suppose there's no avoiding it. The isle was set aflame for reasons I don't ever want to know about, and we were only able to rescue a badly-scarred Phoebe. But we lost Kraken as died from overexposure to smoke. Bloody hell. Two good men dead in such a short time... Visited Kalan afterwards "to see how he was doing" (felt nice to talk with someone about all of that). After visiting more strange places (I've stopped bothering with detailing all of them) we were sailing in the eastern zee when we saw---------- Light. Honest to gods sunlight. It hurt me so badly, but gods help me seeing everything is such vivid colors was worth the pain...we all looked so pale...I still can't believe we managed to get Helios off of the island after that since he was so happy. The zee feels so much darker after seeing that place. So much darker and colder. Sometime after that we returned to Nuncio. To sate her curiosity, our captain decided to take a shift in the main work office. That gave me a little time to badger some local mailmen about Sarah's letters. I knew that she was travelling and kept sending me letters from different parts of the zee, but I didn't know where she was last when she stopped writing to me. The best I could find was that her last letter was sent from the Chelonate (of all places-Sarah hated those kinds of smells). As I recall, all it said besides the usual "miss yous" was that she wanted to explore the eastern zee a bit more before coming home, and that she was planning on heading north from her location. I can't explain it, but I'm certain that some trace of her is on the island with the sun. I think I can find some answers there, but it's impossible to stay for more than a few moments at a time, even though I want to stay there so badly. Since then, been drinking some ale that we found in an albino moray (I don't know how it got there). Helps me forget things. For a bit. Makes everything seem so warm and bright even...
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Mar 12, 2015 20:09
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