storm at sea | part ii

[groundrules]

Thar she blows — part II of the Storm at Sea travel arc, lasting until 5 August.

RELEASE THE KRAKEN

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SUMMARY: as allied pirate ships Pariah and Queen Zanyra sail onwards, mad captain Quicksilver Sam uses the artefact of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company to call out to the notorious power of the haunted Crossing seas. He craves retribution from the crew of his former, drowned ship, the Storm at Sea — which rises up along other sunken vessels, all manned by undead sailors. With them is a vicious kraken. They attack, seeking Quicksilver Sam’s relic. So should you. Some characters dragged underwater reach a deserted dimension where time behaves aberrantly. To survive the two-three-day skirmish, keep your ship afloat and moving, hijack a few other vessels, fend off the undead and kraken, capture Quicksilver’s artefact — and breathe.


SAFE AT WA(TE)R | NAIL’EM TO THE MAST | STICKY FINGERS | THE STRANDING

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SAFE AT WA(TE)R

Quicksilver Sam’s Pariah continues into the black waters of the Crossing seas, escorted by ally Caladan Kreil’s Queen Zanyra and distantly pursued by Maximilian Hawk’s Concord of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company. Characters can cross between the Queen Zanyra and Pariah by rowboat, until great storms darken the skies. Afterwards, reckless fools can risk their necks in the growling winds and drumming rains and traverse the rattling, thick chain that binds the two ships.

Quicksilver Sam joins the deck of the Pariah with a small box he opens to reveal a cut-out, impeccably preserved and warded human tongue. Once unwarded, the artefact seems to intensify the storms, while Quicksilver shouts out:

”Two years be, when the seas, them… they… broke’n’sundered and… was then. Then, when all of you! All of… all of you dead under the briny deep, you watched, and you plotted, and you… was then! We all broke bread under the black flag, and we were brothers… brothers of the Storm at Sea. Was enough coin in the coffer for everyone, but you, you had the greed in you, thicker than blood of our covenant, or water of any womb! You turned! You put me out to die, and now, look where you are? You lily-livered scurvies, you wake up now, look around you! You put me to sea? Left me to die? Samuel Vane, you thought me, I was for drowning? You look me in the eye, and you tell me so again, because I’m here for you! I’ll be ruin for you, Storm at Sea, I’ll cleave you!”

■ The tongue artefact summons up dozens of sunken ships from the Crossing, which take under an hour to fully emerge. They are manned by reanimated sailors — many whom you may have encountered as cored bodies underwater.


■ The Storm at Sea also rises, staffed by Quicksilver Sam’s now revenant crew. The vessel spearheads the undead offensive and approaches the Pariah — leaving her within reach for infiltration. Wei Wuxian will report back after engaging undead first mate Augustus Silvering.

■ The tongue relic also calls up an immense kraken, whose tentacles can be recognised as the ‘coral’ strings that had bound the sunken ships. The kraken is neither living nor dead and composed of the coagulated dark water that characters have previously encountered. Kraken meat is comestible but not seafood. It unexpectedly tastes of succulent white fish, best paired with a Sauvignon blanc and served generously with lemon, rosemary and dill. Do not overcook on the bonfire of your sinking ship.

■ You may end up locked inside cabins or brigs, whether ‘for your safety’ or at the first sign of insubordination against the on-edge captains.

■ You’re in danger as long as you remain within the Crossing seas. To steer the boats, take occasional shifts from exhausted pirates and learn to helm your vessel with navigational help from your companions.

■ (Wisps of) agitated spirits linger in the Crossing — some maliciously seek to push you overboard, while others protect you. Most are petrified. These remaining spirits are more akin to afterthoughts of emotion, which you can calm down, exorcise or ignore.

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NAIL’EM TO THE MAST

When you can’t beat’em, try again with a torch, a harpoon and a better attitude:

■ The kraken and undead violently attempt to reach the tongue artefact and sink the Pariah, Queen Zanyra and nearby Concord. Your enemies have hardened skins that require extra hacking, but regular weapons still work. Fire is especially efficient.

■ The kraken slams and sweeps its tentacles across the deck to drag ships underwater — do use cannons and primitive explosives.

■ The undead mount rowboats or swim to climb onboard. Fortunately, the storms impede your attackers, earning you respite between fresh assaults. Assume one-two hours' rest between attacks.

■ Extensively touching the living kraken tentacles slowly depletes your stamina and/or magical strength.

■ Consider taking Viktor’s steampunk boat and setting up primitive dynamite to sink these ships before their undead crew can reach you. Beware the storms.

■ You can infiltrate undead ships at any point, but can only commandeer one if you group up to man it.

■ Use diving suits that let you breathe four hours underwater and light up white for alert, red for danger, yellow for the urgent need to return on land and green-blue otherwise.

■ Bad news for the Pariah: on top of the undead, the kraken and the mad pirate, you are dealing with the incensed Hawk and Caladan Kreil, both whom send men to stop Quicksilver Sam’s summons at all costs.

■ Magical communicators are prone to glitches or disruptions amid poor weather conditions.

■ A school of mermaids is drawn to the kraken and the Pariah — warn them off with lights or lure them away with baits of food or blood. Speaking with them reveals they want Quicksilver’s artefact.

■ Those wishing to avoid violence can head to the more distant Concord by rowboat, under a white flag. Maximilian Hawk believes you are refugees aboard the Pariah and Queen Zanyra and will offer sanctuary. The sleek, highly disciplined and martial Concord faces significantly less attack, and you can spend a more peaceful time below deck. Alternatively, pair up to persuade the crew to give up chasing the Pariah, and convince Hawk and first mate Lattimore the ‘ancient power’ pursued by the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company should arguably never be found.

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STICKY FINGERS

Moments after his speech, a rattled Quicksilver Sam retreats with the tongue relic in his heavily guarded and magically warded cabin.

■ Group up to capture the tongue with minimal damage to ship and crew. Ideally, some characters can distract the guards or attempt to lure Quicksilver out.

■ Helpful tips: despite his questionable sanity, Quicksilver Sam has shown high regard for manners, women and his ship. The pirate guards are loyal, but skittish before the supernatural.

■ During the diversion, lift the wards or forcibly infiltrate the cabin by breaking the door in. Careful, as Quicksilver appears to have purchased a Taravast special — a small caged white owl, which paralyses in place those who meet her gaze. Someone should distract the bird or cover her cage to break her trance.

■ Everyone can hunt, but Five and Wrathion get final joint custody of the tongue. They have decided to ward and box it. This will see the kraken and sinking ships gradually lose power, then submerge within two days. The tongue stays with the duo. Given Kirk’s previous reveal, the group could choose to trade the tongue in with Maximilian Hawk and the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company.

■ If the tongue is ever brought near the heart possessed by Kaneki Ken, the two artefacts will briefly thrum in synchrony.

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THE STRANDING

Some characters captured by the kraken’s tentacles and pulled underwater lose consciousness, only to mentally wake up in the dimension of a perfectly silent, deserted and seemingly interminable beach island.

■ Characters experience time differently here, shifting between younger and older states every few hours. Up to you whether these changes are mental, physical or both, and whether your character is aware this isn’t their natural form.

■ Several mute, humanoid tar figures roam aimlessly. They largely ignore newcomers, but peacefully stop them from entering the dark sea waters.

■ The island sky is despairingly grey. There are no animals or plants.

■ Characters find they lose more of their memories, the longer they linger — particularly if they start to be politely but incessantly followed by tar figures, which gradually assume their form.

■ You can occasionally find human footsteps and writing in wet beach sand. The writing spells out children’s limericks.

■ Time passes differently on the island — dealer’s choice whether faster or slower than in the real world for your character.

■ Characters can wake up into the real world, if their bodies are rescued from where they’ve sunken underwater, remaining alive for up to two days in the vicinity of the kraken.

■ Characters may initially experience light amnesia and a sense of listlessness and estrangement from their bodies, once they have left the island dimension. This dissipates within a day’s time.

■ You can only reach the island once. Characters can be brought underwater by the kraken without entering the beach dimension.

QUESTIONS

NPC CONTACT

Comments

[downswing]

( And he flushes, first, then wretches dry, as if ginseng has made bitter burial ground in the back of his parched mouth, as if he has consumed poison and must now relinquish it. Beside him, the undead man seems compelled to habits of concern mimicked and old, orbiting him to offer first the blanched rag of his sleeve to wipe Wangji's mouth, then the flat of his palm to tender Lan Wangji's back.

Between them, they negotiate thin strips of borrowed composure, they dress Lan Wangji back in the sour-mouthed, glaring regalia of his stature, they recreate the dignity of Hanguang-Jun.

He would sooner gouge Magnus' eyes now than meet them. Clasps his sword, hilt like an unbeating heart he means to crush, and thinks to see that deed swiftly done. So simply, it would only ask a slash, a downswing, a stab. He abstains himself. )

You are shameless. ( The undead creature beside him howls out, canine. Lan Wangji acquiesces. ) Obscene. Wretched and wrong.

[incantates]

[ Wow.

Wow.

Someone is clearly having a very repressed existence. Magnus can't help but roll his eyes slightly and brush off the insults. ]

I've been called so much worse, trust me.

[ The perks of spending centuries dealing with equally repressed Nephilim, who'd been keen on pointing out and scoffing at his many feats of hedonism at every opportunity. It gets a little old. ]

And need I remind you, you wanted your curiosity sated. Consider it well sated.

[ Tragically, closing up so many large holes on one side does cause the water pressure to gather on the other, and the wooden planks start to distend with the first signs of bursting. His magic gravitates across the hull to try and stanch the flow as best as he can. Now would really be a good time for Lan Wangji to stop gaping at him in disgust and to supply him with extra energy to avoid what's starting to feel like an inevitable shipwreck. ]

[downswing]

( They are... not so close to the journey's inevitable sodden conclusion that Lan Wangji can't spare another hiss, a great and sensible adjuration to never leave himself in the hands of such a wretched man and his follies (again).

There is always time, resource and capacity for righteous indignation.

And then there's water, swelling the hull walls like the growth of a progressing pregnancy, and the dead man who's kept sentry over the space considers it his due to press his hands against the distortion and push out. As if that can offset a wealth of magic and the maelstrom that rains down, booming and drumming with martial finesse.

Fatigue does not colour Magnus well. Grudgingly, Lan Wangji sidles closer, enough to twine two fingers and set them in the orbit of Magnus' wrist with the outward reservation of a monk approaching the dearest flower of the town's pleasure house. Healing qi will not latch in the absence of a core to churn it, will not self-proliferate, but the donation itself should fill in what gaps linger. )

Next I ask, tell me it is for the knowing of... seasoned men.

[incantates]

Seasoned men? I prefer worldly. Cultured, even.

[ And by the sound of things, Lan Wangji could benefit with a few regular rounds of culture himself. ]

You can look a little less perturbed about having to touch me. I promise I am not the slightest bit contagious.

[ Just to prove his point, he grabs the offered hand and gives it a nice squeeze, making sure to lace their fingers together –scandalous, he knows. Unlike the general population of pirates and unwashed passengers around them, Magnus can, in fact, cleanse himself with a snap of his fingers, so he has maintained a level of sanitation that the others likely lack at this point, not that he can really blame them considering their present circumstances. Were he not busy trying to stop the ship from sinking, he'd give everyone a thorough magical wash to rid them of the stench that's starting to ferment the more they cover the ship in fear-sweat.

...But priorities.

That means siphoning all the ancient magical qi he can so he doesn't faint mid-spell and leave a sizable makeup print on the wood underneath them. Luckily, the minor pick-me-up is doing its job, and Magnus can feel an extra charge jolting through him as his magic weaves around the hull again, returning to its arduous task of patching up holes. ]

There, almost as good as ...well, definitely not new –more like Craigslist!new.

[downswing]

( He will walk this earth a man like a lair of worms.

He will carry ever sickness, old and new.

He will never cleanse through righteous rites of healers or priestly ablutions.

This is his body, and Magnus' touch has utterly defiled it.

Forgive him, ancestors, for lo, Lan Wangji's earthly donation of slivers and flows of qi has utterly ruined him. He will not show his face with pride before the heavens. In truth, he should bar himself from entry and promptly combust ablaze before setting step.

But the deed is done, virtue upended, Magnus restored to questionable but reliable and prolific glory. Blink, but do not miss it: magic is like spun thread between his fingertips, the hull woven back to a semblance of function. Then, within heartbeats, wholly renewed. )

Your skill is beautiful.

( A simple admission, wrenched from him like teeth. Bloodied, to leave his mouth. )

[incantates]

[ The compliment was not entirely expected, to be honest. Magnus has trouble determining if he heard right or if that comment came from one of the ghosts in the peanut gallery. ]

You picked a strange time to start flirting with me, but I'll accept it.

[ This is probably the closest Lan Wangji has come to flirting with anything, even if Magnus is 110% sure it's unintentional.

Of their more pressing matters, the leakage has mostly stopped due to the surge of qi feeding him enough energy to boost his magic, leaving them with only the residual problem of the water that did get into the hull and is currently soaking through Magnus' nice shoes and pants. He picked a bad time at sea to dress up in anything fancy and really should have stuck with his airy linens.

His hand drops from Lan Wangji's to free him quicker from the torment of their palms rubbing salaciously together and also so Magnus can lean against the wall and recharge. ]

If you give me about fifteen minutes, I'll be ready for a second round, but I am not as young as I used to be.

[ It's mostly a matter of magic refractory periods and all that fun stuff. ]

[downswing]

( A moment like a thread spun and drawn taut, sweet and anaemic between them, made tender by Lan Wangji's admiring wonder —

...and then, Magnus unhinges his mouth again. Words avalanche out. The world is not a better, or kinder, or cleansed place for the deluge.

In the reviving, blossoming rib cage of the hull, scent of rejuvenating wood a wild burst around them, Lan Wangji cannot summon the indignation to ask blood in retaliation — can barely shift, blade traversing the span of a wooden wall that loses, first the dark-sketched depth of its water and oiled marks, then its mouthed holes, then its striations.

Around Lan Wangji, dead things seem to behold their old-new home, as if it once slept a crone and now wakes a paradise. As if they could die here, once more.

Perhaps they should not be allowed to claim Magnus with them — not as Lan Wangji coaxes himself free of lethargic, stunned stupour to step before the magician, Bichen drawn and barring any soul's armed intervention. Fifteen minutes. Less than a candle stick's burn. He may hold vigil. )

We may wait. ( This, with a growled determination that informs Magnus to lie still and the crowding dead men to hold back. ) Your resources are entirely depleted at each turn of sorcery?

( Perhaps not the most efficient of skills, if it so often fully exhausts its practitioners. )

[incantates]

[ Does he have to point out that he did a whole lot more than fix the ship before getting here? ]

Are you really complaining about my stamina? I did fight off a stubborn tentacle and teleport across several different ships to get here. Magic is not infinite.

[ If it were, he'd have dealt with a lot of this world and his own world's catastrophes more easily, and it just so happens that in this world, he has even more of a cap to his conjuring abilities. Lucky him, right?

It would probably be a waste of magic, but he's tempted to leave Lan Wangji bald for the sheer audacity. Fortunately for Lan Wangji, they have bigger problems, and he's not going to allow himself to be consumed by pettiness, warlock pride or not.

His body sinks as his gaze flits back and forth from the pirates to Lan Wangji, still a little unclear what step 2 of this plan was supposed to be. ]

Now that the ship isn't sinking, do you plan to drive the ship's bow into the kraken?

[ Does he even know how to steer a ship with that much precision and dexterity? ]

[downswing]

( Magic is not infinite, opportunities do not seed and bloom at each turn. There are limitations to what even Magnus' flaunted magnificence can achieve. This, he will adds like another bead to the string, building fragments of chipped understand — better to observe and chain in knowing than pry as a moth fumbling by flame.

And now they have done, now that Lan Wangji can rain touch over the innermost belly of the vessel and find it sheltered of bleed-out and spillage and further holes — now come decisions he is not yet certain he is well positioned to make on a collective's behalf. If this were a sect —

Yet, even there, he stands brother to a leader, a diminutive voice of command. )

Allison Hargreeves says Caladan Kreil will see us in exile. ( Deprived their means of transport and shelter at sea. Roaming, lost. Weakness already lords and reduces them. They cannot allow another blow more. When he sighs, it's ripped uncleanly from him, ragged at the edges. )

We retain the vessel. ( A caution, a safeguard, a makeshift means to a desperate end. Let them sooner have and waste than want. ) Another such ship bears a captain. A man of navigation. Perhaps he or Jiang Wanyin may guide.

( Surely a man of Yunmeng must know his way here. What is a sea if not a well-fed lake? )

[incantates]

[ Oh, good. It sounds like they're metaphorical sitting ducks on volatile waters, ready to be capsized at any moment. Just the right set of circumstances to set his warlock heart at ease.

He's too tired to even be annoyed, only taking comfort in the fact that they're no longer under threat of sinking. It's really the only thing worthy of any sort of celebration at the moment. ]

So we play follow the leader on the other ships. Can I trust you to steer, or do I have to take care of that, too?

[ A long life as checkered as his own has given more than enough opportunities to sail, even if he'd mostly done so with magic. Still, he can manage it, if pressed. He'd just rather take a light nap, but not everyone gets what they want in life. Besides, he and Lan Wangji aren't the only ones on this ship, and Magnus wants to make sure they do all make it out safe and alive. ]

[downswing]

( One heartbeat, the second. Water thrumming and seeping through cracks and grazed fissures that do not unstitch into holes once more. Fine work, Magnus. Better, when Lan Wangji's cheeks colour, and he chances a glance astray. )

I have travelled passenger aboard a vessel before.

( ...yet never captained, nor steered, nor led maritime vanguard. His brother, perhaps — they are the people of streams, but not their masters. Perhaps, in Yunmeng — clutch of his hands tight like wound rope, grip indiscreet. Better not to injure the lacquer of Jiang Wanyin's dignity with silent brushes of Lan Wangji's tremulous thoughts.

Better still to fold himself, back softened in tepid increments, the start of a bow. )

We shall take the counsel of a captain.

( One barely wedded Lan Wangji, for all he failed each word and practice. He must excel in some skill, to have kept rank. )

[incantates]

[ This plan gets more and more ill-conceived by the second, and Magnus can't help leveling Lan Wangji with a disbelieving stare. That sounds a lot like someone didn't manage to secure a captain to actually steer before commandeering a ghost vessel. Was he hoping the ghosts would pitch in more than they already had? Because those ghosts don't look that thrilled to have them, never mind that Magnus had stopped the ship from sinking just now. ]

Can I really entrust this responsibility to you? I'm sure among us, someone has enough naval experience to take over, and if not– I really will have to employ magical steering.

[ But he's still going to need at least ten more minutes to recover because moving a ship of this size will take a lot of magic. If they make it out of this alive and relatively in one piece, someone is going to owe him a nice glass of vodka when they reach dry land. He's keeping a firm record of favors Lan Wangji has racked up thus far, which still includes that time Lan Wangji failed to deal with the bird who was trying to peck Magnus' eyeballs out.

With that, he motions to Lan Wangji to hurry so they don't wind up stranded in the middle of a haunted ocean. ]