"Seems to be journals. Might as well keep one for myself." He grabs an empty book if there is one, then writes on the cover, "Journal of Normiah Blubberbeard".
The rusty journal flutters in some invisible wind, as if begging to be picked up.
Normiah checks out the rusty journal. "How am I supposed to open this blaster thing when it's locked?"
As if on cue, the lock falls right off and clatters on the ground.
"Rather strange," Normiah mutters to himself as he opens the now lock-less journal.
The journal is filled with saltwater stains, rendering many pages indecipherable. The first reads “Journal of Imperial Commander Caspian Reeves.” The following pages are hopelessly waterlogged, until around page thirty. Written in a small but neat cursive is the following.
Captain’s Log — November Fourth, 1612
Our journeys have taken us further across the Myriad Depths than I ever could have anticipated. We sighted an island yesterday. I’ve never seen anything like it. Blistering heat, deathly craters, glassy sand. Savage bat-things assailed our ship, taking out two of our men. Morale is low, especially among them. I’m starting to wonder if Vineta is really worth the hassle. It seems that each nightmare is worse than the last. Fortunately, the men I brought are entirely expendable — plenty of worthless adventurers back at home to fill their ranks.
The night is close now, I can feel it in my bones. It’s calling to me, dragging me closer. I want to answer, I need to, but I must wait a while longer. Tonight, the monster will sleep. Tomorrow, Vineta!
———
Captain’s Log — November Ninth, 1612
We encountered another ship, if you can believe it! It seems that I’m not the only foolhardy captain in these accursed waters. The other crew seems to be of much higher constitution than my own. I may take them for myself, if it comes to that. The constant resurrection has weathered my own crew so far that many of them are little more than mindless zombies. Perhaps they will find release. They certainly deserve it.
———
Captain’s Log — November Thirteenth, 1612
The new crew has performed well thus far. Better than I had expected, certainly. A few of the officers have taken issue with my managerial style, but such casualties are to be expected. Glory to the Empire!
Vineta is so close now that I can taste it. It’s sweet and rich in a way I could never have expected it. I can smell it on the wind like a rotting corpse, fresh with faded vibrancy and warmth. Even Garm can smell it, and his nose has been broken so many times I’m astonished it stays on at all. I’m confident that tomorrow, we will find the Sunken City.
———
Captain’s Log — January Fourth, 1613
We found the city. Vineta is all I expected and all I feared. They shut me out, blasted me back to the surface with my schooner in pieces. This will not stand. I have sent all my carrier pigeons back to the mainland, informing my superiors of the news. Even in this dreadful weather, I’m confident at least a few can make it through.
I’m currently holed up belowground in an island that I can only assume was a gift from the Duchess herself. The crew attempted yet another mutiny, the sixth in this dreadful misadventure, and I was forced to release the monster. This time, they threw themselves at my feet and demanded I end their suffering. It saddens me to see Garm go, but at least I don’t have to deal with unwarranted backstabbings anymore. I constructed a group memorial aboveground (there were no bodies), but I expect the monsoon has already washed it away. The barbaric hivemind has no respect for the dead.
Their slight will not stand. Queen Victoria personally sanctioned this expedition! I am entirely confident that, when she hears the tragic story of this day, Her Majesty will arrive to pulverize these monstrous criminals. Let’s see their cannons shoot her down.
This will likely be my final journal entry. The beast is stirring once again. I fear it will consume me for good tonight, should no suitable food appear within the next few hours. If any poor soul stumbles upon this waterlogged journal at some far-flung date, throw it back into the sea. Horrors such as those I experienced during the course of this expedition should never become known, for their knowledge gives them further power.
Vineta is cursed, now and always. It must be destroyed, for its very existence is the epitome of sin. Glory to the Empire, and Long Live the Queen!
The journal ends there.
Normiah analyzes the journal. "Is this... The journal of a former captain?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
"Seems to be journals. Might as well keep one for myself." He grabs an empty book if there is one, then writes on the cover, "Journal of Normiah Blubberbeard".
The rusty journal flutters in some invisible wind, as if begging to be picked up.
Normiah checks out the rusty journal. "How am I supposed to open this blaster thing when it's locked?"
As if on cue, the lock falls right off and clatters on the ground.
"Rather strange," Normiah mutters to himself as he opens the now lock-less journal.
The journal is filled with saltwater stains, rendering many pages indecipherable. The first reads “Journal of Imperial Commander Caspian Reeves.” The following pages are hopelessly waterlogged, until around page thirty. Written in a small but neat cursive is the following.
Captain’s Log — November Fourth, 1612
Our journeys have taken us further across the Myriad Depths than I ever could have anticipated. We sighted an island yesterday. I’ve never seen anything like it. Blistering heat, deathly craters, glassy sand. Savage bat-things assailed our ship, taking out two of our men. Morale is low, especially among them. I’m starting to wonder if Vineta is really worth the hassle. It seems that each nightmare is worse than the last. Fortunately, the men I brought are entirely expendable — plenty of worthless adventurers back at home to fill their ranks.
The night is close now, I can feel it in my bones. It’s calling to me, dragging me closer. I want to answer, I need to, but I must wait a while longer. Tonight, the monster will sleep. Tomorrow, Vineta!
———
Captain’s Log — November Ninth, 1612
We encountered another ship, if you can believe it! It seems that I’m not the only foolhardy captain in these accursed waters. The other crew seems to be of much higher constitution than my own. I may take them for myself, if it comes to that. The constant resurrection has weathered my own crew so far that many of them are little more than mindless zombies. Perhaps they will find release. They certainly deserve it.
———
Captain’s Log — November Thirteenth, 1612
The new crew has performed well thus far. Better than I had expected, certainly. A few of the officers have taken issue with my managerial style, but such casualties are to be expected. Glory to the Empire!
Vineta is so close now that I can taste it. It’s sweet and rich in a way I could never have expected it. I can smell it on the wind like a rotting corpse, fresh with faded vibrancy and warmth. Even Garm can smell it, and his nose has been broken so many times I’m astonished it stays on at all. I’m confident that tomorrow, we will find the Sunken City.
———
Captain’s Log — January Fourth, 1613
We found the city. Vineta is all I expected and all I feared. They shut me out, blasted me back to the surface with my schooner in pieces. This will not stand. I have sent all my carrier pigeons back to the mainland, informing my superiors of the news. Even in this dreadful weather, I’m confident at least a few can make it through.
I’m currently holed up belowground in an island that I can only assume was a gift from the Duchess herself. The crew attempted yet another mutiny, the sixth in this dreadful misadventure, and I was forced to release the monster. This time, they threw themselves at my feet and demanded I end their suffering. It saddens me to see Garm go, but at least I don’t have to deal with unwarranted backstabbings anymore. I constructed a group memorial aboveground (there were no bodies), but I expect the monsoon has already washed it away. The barbaric hivemind has no respect for the dead.
Their slight will not stand. Queen Victoria personally sanctioned this expedition! I am entirely confident that, when she hears the tragic story of this day, Her Majesty will arrive to pulverize these monstrous criminals. Let’s see their cannons shoot her down.
This will likely be my final journal entry. The beast is stirring once again. I fear it will consume me for good tonight, should no suitable food appear within the next few hours. If any poor soul stumbles upon this waterlogged journal at some far-flung date, throw it back into the sea. Horrors such as those I experienced during the course of this expedition should never become known, for their knowledge gives them further power.
Vineta is cursed, now and always. It must be destroyed, for its very existence is the epitome of sin. Glory to the Empire, and Long Live the Queen!
The journal ends there.
Normiah analyzes the journal. "Is this... The journal of a former captain?"
“Not ours.”
Alistair stands in the doorway.
”Reeves hated The Notched Blades — that’s us — more than anything. He was Infected by the Queen four Reformations ago. That’s about eighty years. But ten years ago, he tried to lay siege against Vineta, the capital Koralline city. They sank his ship, left him to die, and that’s just what he did.”
Raven goes belowdecks into her room. she takes a look around.
The room is light by a single torch. Paintings adorn the walls — poorly done, but clearly made by someone passionate about their work. They’re all landscapes, with several ocean paintings and a few paintings of a jungle. A modest cot is situated in the corner, below some graffiti — mostly the same name, repeated in different fonts with different patterns. Clarissa. Apparently, Alan had a crush.
"this is beautiful!" she spins around looking at the room stopping at the cot. "clarissa? huh maybe i'll ask later."
"Seems to be journals. Might as well keep one for myself." He grabs an empty book if there is one, then writes on the cover, "Journal of Normiah Blubberbeard".
The rusty journal flutters in some invisible wind, as if begging to be picked up.
Normiah checks out the rusty journal. "How am I supposed to open this blaster thing when it's locked?"
As if on cue, the lock falls right off and clatters on the ground.
"Rather strange," Normiah mutters to himself as he opens the now lock-less journal.
The journal is filled with saltwater stains, rendering many pages indecipherable. The first reads “Journal of Imperial Commander Caspian Reeves.” The following pages are hopelessly waterlogged, until around page thirty. Written in a small but neat cursive is the following.
Captain’s Log — November Fourth, 1612
Our journeys have taken us further across the Myriad Depths than I ever could have anticipated. We sighted an island yesterday. I’ve never seen anything like it. Blistering heat, deathly craters, glassy sand. Savage bat-things assailed our ship, taking out two of our men. Morale is low, especially among them. I’m starting to wonder if Vineta is really worth the hassle. It seems that each nightmare is worse than the last. Fortunately, the men I brought are entirely expendable — plenty of worthless adventurers back at home to fill their ranks.
The night is close now, I can feel it in my bones. It’s calling to me, dragging me closer. I want to answer, I need to, but I must wait a while longer. Tonight, the monster will sleep. Tomorrow, Vineta!
———
Captain’s Log — November Ninth, 1612
We encountered another ship, if you can believe it! It seems that I’m not the only foolhardy captain in these accursed waters. The other crew seems to be of much higher constitution than my own. I may take them for myself, if it comes to that. The constant resurrection has weathered my own crew so far that many of them are little more than mindless zombies. Perhaps they will find release. They certainly deserve it.
———
Captain’s Log — November Thirteenth, 1612
The new crew has performed well thus far. Better than I had expected, certainly. A few of the officers have taken issue with my managerial style, but such casualties are to be expected. Glory to the Empire!
Vineta is so close now that I can taste it. It’s sweet and rich in a way I could never have expected it. I can smell it on the wind like a rotting corpse, fresh with faded vibrancy and warmth. Even Garm can smell it, and his nose has been broken so many times I’m astonished it stays on at all. I’m confident that tomorrow, we will find the Sunken City.
———
Captain’s Log — January Fourth, 1613
We found the city. Vineta is all I expected and all I feared. They shut me out, blasted me back to the surface with my schooner in pieces. This will not stand. I have sent all my carrier pigeons back to the mainland, informing my superiors of the news. Even in this dreadful weather, I’m confident at least a few can make it through.
I’m currently holed up belowground in an island that I can only assume was a gift from the Duchess herself. The crew attempted yet another mutiny, the sixth in this dreadful misadventure, and I was forced to release the monster. This time, they threw themselves at my feet and demanded I end their suffering. It saddens me to see Garm go, but at least I don’t have to deal with unwarranted backstabbings anymore. I constructed a group memorial aboveground (there were no bodies), but I expect the monsoon has already washed it away. The barbaric hivemind has no respect for the dead.
Their slight will not stand. Queen Victoria personally sanctioned this expedition! I am entirely confident that, when she hears the tragic story of this day, Her Majesty will arrive to pulverize these monstrous criminals. Let’s see their cannons shoot her down.
This will likely be my final journal entry. The beast is stirring once again. I fear it will consume me for good tonight, should no suitable food appear within the next few hours. If any poor soul stumbles upon this waterlogged journal at some far-flung date, throw it back into the sea. Horrors such as those I experienced during the course of this expedition should never become known, for their knowledge gives them further power.
Vineta is cursed, now and always. It must be destroyed, for its very existence is the epitome of sin. Glory to the Empire, and Long Live the Queen!
The journal ends there.
Normiah analyzes the journal. "Is this... The journal of a former captain?"
“Not ours.”
Alistair stands in the doorway.
”Reeves hated The Notched Blades — that’s us — more than anything. He was Infected by the Queen four Reformations ago. That’s about eighty years. But ten years ago, he tried to lay siege against Vineta, the capital Koralline city. They sank his ship, left him to die, and that’s just what he did.”
"That's... A fascinating tale." He puts the journal back where it was.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
“That it is,” Alistair replies. “He was a menace.”
”I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting that sort of behavior from the crew. Em, that’s the tlincalli lady, is furious with me.” He hangs his head.
“That it is,” Alistair replies. “He was a menace.”
”I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting that sort of behavior from the crew. Em, that’s the tlincalli lady, is furious with me.” He hangs his head.
@gibber
"It's fine. I've been on quite a lot of ships, and encountered quite a lot of idiotic behavior."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
“That it is,” Alistair replies. “He was a menace.”
”I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting that sort of behavior from the crew. Em, that’s the tlincalli lady, is furious with me.” He hangs his head.
@gibber
"It's fine. I've been on quite a lot of ships, and encountered quite a lot of idiotic behavior."
“Good. You’ll fit right in here.” He offers a sad smile.
The necromancer has made a rocking chair out of bones inside and is currently sitting in it, playing a violin. A pair of spectral orbs float around him, dancing along. If you look closely, they look almost like children.
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I don;t know where the body is except that it got eaten... oh well. I was trying to figure out why there was writing on my wall that said clarissa. Hmmm maybe i'll ask the captain. Anyways! what brings you here? I haven't met a lot of necromancers... the last one kinda was a weird one..."
"I don;t know where the body is except that it got eaten... oh well. I was trying to figure out why there was writing on my wall that said clarissa. Hmmm maybe i'll ask the captain. Anyways! what brings you here? I haven't met a lot of necromancers... the last one kinda was a weird one..."
"Power and opportunity. One doesn't become a necromancer because they want to accept their lives as they are."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
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Normiah analyzes the journal. "Is this... The journal of a former captain?"
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
A mysterious link of chain... (Extended signature). PRAISE JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA! REALLY cool video.
One of the Warlock Patrons on the forums. Low, low price of your soul, your firstborn child and your liver!
Titles: The Echoing Story Spewer from Drummer, the Endless Maws from Isis, the Mad Murderer from PJ
The grung sits in the crow's nest, rubbing the tips of his arrows on his skin.
Kasrik Argentum Stellaris Fiddlesticks the Wizard, Lord of Stars, Master Trickster, and Creator of both the Mosh of Stardust Hornets and Mimiczilla.
"You're never fully dressed without a smile!" >:3
"Honk."
“Not ours.”
Alistair stands in the doorway.
”Reeves hated The Notched Blades — that’s us — more than anything. He was Infected by the Queen four Reformations ago. That’s about eighty years. But ten years ago, he tried to lay siege against Vineta, the capital Koralline city. They sank his ship, left him to die, and that’s just what he did.”
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
A seven-foot tall creature composed entirely of coral takes a seat next to him. “Hey there,” the creature says. Its voice is grating, but soft.
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
"this is beautiful!" she spins around looking at the room stopping at the cot. "clarissa? huh maybe i'll ask later."
She/they
loves food
that sums me up
"That's... A fascinating tale." He puts the journal back where it was.
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
A mysterious link of chain... (Extended signature). PRAISE JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA! REALLY cool video.
One of the Warlock Patrons on the forums. Low, low price of your soul, your firstborn child and your liver!
Titles: The Echoing Story Spewer from Drummer, the Endless Maws from Isis, the Mad Murderer from PJ
"Howdy. Who're you?"
Kasrik Argentum Stellaris Fiddlesticks the Wizard, Lord of Stars, Master Trickster, and Creator of both the Mosh of Stardust Hornets and Mimiczilla.
"You're never fully dressed without a smile!" >:3
"Honk."
“That it is,” Alistair replies. “He was a menace.”
”I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting that sort of behavior from the crew. Em, that’s the tlincalli lady, is furious with me.” He hangs his head.
@gibber
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
“My name is Mound. I’m a deckhand here.”
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
"It's fine. I've been on quite a lot of ships, and encountered quite a lot of idiotic behavior."
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
A mysterious link of chain... (Extended signature). PRAISE JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA! REALLY cool video.
One of the Warlock Patrons on the forums. Low, low price of your soul, your firstborn child and your liver!
Titles: The Echoing Story Spewer from Drummer, the Endless Maws from Isis, the Mad Murderer from PJ
“Good. You’ll fit right in here.” He offers a sad smile.
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
"Well, nice to meet you Mound. They call me Gordon."
Kasrik Argentum Stellaris Fiddlesticks the Wizard, Lord of Stars, Master Trickster, and Creator of both the Mosh of Stardust Hornets and Mimiczilla.
"You're never fully dressed without a smile!" >:3
"Honk."
“That’s a good name.”
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
The necromancer has made a rocking chair out of bones inside and is currently sitting in it, playing a violin. A pair of spectral orbs float around him, dancing along. If you look closely, they look almost like children.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Raven is now at the tables looking to ask around for anybody named clarissa.
She/they
loves food
that sums me up
No one recognizes the name.
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
She sighs. then has a thought. I need a necromancer. she goes up to the necromancer. "i have a question. Could you ask a dead person something?"
She/they
loves food
that sums me up
He stops playing, and the spirits fade away. "I'll need a body, but yes. It shouldn't be that hard."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I don;t know where the body is except that it got eaten... oh well. I was trying to figure out why there was writing on my wall that said clarissa. Hmmm maybe i'll ask the captain. Anyways! what brings you here? I haven't met a lot of necromancers... the last one kinda was a weird one..."
She/they
loves food
that sums me up
"Power and opportunity. One doesn't become a necromancer because they want to accept their lives as they are."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.