westwhere | storm at sea

storm at sea | part ii

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

RELEASE THE KRAKEN

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

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Five wasn't away for long. He'd barely had the time to rest enough to have the energy to blink between the ships, but in coming back he was at least partially fueled by his anger over the betrayal he just experienced. He should have felt vindicated at how quickly everyone turned on him, but it still managed to surprise him how little gratitude they had for saving their lives.

It's been well over a year since he started traveling with them. True, he's made a couple of major mistakes, but he also fought beside them, risked himself and his family to ensure their survival. And yet the second he decides to keep one thing from them, suddenly he's the bad guy. Any discussion he'd planned on having shifted to defending his actions, which ultimately led to him refusing to even the more reasonable requests. He could blame hormones for getting the better of him, as much as he's loathe to admit it, but he feels too spiteful to go back and explain himself any further.

Ironically, no sooner is he wishing he had a drink than one appears in front of him. Like magic. Five looks from the bottle up to Emilia, questioning in his gaze. He wouldn't have expected her to be on his side.

"You were listening?"

"Only pieces," though the musing tone in her voice suggests she did not expect the same, either. She certainly has the temper to join the most volatile of arguments, but perhaps her appetites are not to be underestimated, either.

Still rather hungry, really.

"I was busy with the ship."

And the scuffle that ensued when both her not!husband and his brother engaged the kraken directly. She doesn't realise yet that her pendant fell off in the aforementioned scuffle, and that she speaks to him in her native tongue.

"But it looked like you needed this more than me."

He raises an eyebrow. From the gesture, he can assume she understood why he decided to argue tooth and nail over something he never meant to care so strongly about. More the principle, really. Any intentions he had to help save them and defeat their common enemy got lost when they decided he couldn't be trusted. It's convenient that they're on their own ship with only enough people to keep it moving, with people who can stand to be in his company.

It isn't until he's reaching for the bottle that it occurs to him that she wasn't speaking through the pendant. His expression softens, and he's quiet for a beat or two as he stares at her. Then he shrugs as he takes a drink and lets his gaze grow distant.

"I should have guessed that you were Italian." He might not have a perfect accent, but he's clearly fluent and has no trouble understanding her. It isn't Emilia's fault that it instantly makes him miss someone who isn't here with him, but it goes a long way to distract him from his anger.

It unsettles her in truth, this matter of the undead tongue.

She's seen a severed tongue, mind. Wrath removed it from a lord disrespecting her. His wretched howls had filled the castle and chilled her to the bone, before shock wore off and was replaced by fury instead. She'd been seconds away from enacting her own punishment after all, and was robbed of the chance. How would she gain the respect of the court if he was fighting her battles?

No, it's not the potential sight of it that unsettles her, but its existence. This defilement is vile. Her sister's heart was ripped out of her chest and sits in a jar somewhere, for someone else to use. A heart like Kaneki's, except it no longer beats.

And so. The fewer people having access to this undead tongue, the better. She might have made the same call, at least until she understood it better. His observation breaks through her thoughts, and she lifts her head, hand moving toward her communication device. Upon noting its absence, she gives a soft curse under her breath. She must go retrieve it ... once her legs don't feel so unsteady.

"I was born in Palermo, Sicily."

The Sicilian part is essential if you're Nonna Maria. She's trying not to be obvious, but it's also impossible to miss: Five is a man of hard edges, and softness like this — however brief — all the more apparent. "You speak it well. Have you been to Italy?"

Edited (what is english even) 2022-08-09 00:52 (UTC)

It could be because of his personal experiences, but it manages to bother Five far less that it's a tongue and not another mirror as they first suspected. The one inside him is getting stronger the more time passes; it's more of a persistent anguish that Wrath has constantly tried to get him to deal with. A paranoid part of him still worries about what happens if another mirror reacts to it, the way it did in the lighthouse. He's afraid it'll take control of him someday, but he can't get himself to risk removing it.

Internal organs, gore, seeing people ripped to pieces... he was desensitized to that since childhood. Poor Ben had a worse time of it; he didn't have time to gain control over his ability by the time Five left, but he'd seen the Horror fling any number of criminals apart. Back when everyone they faced was a 'bad guy' and they were the heroes who stepped up to stop them by whatever means necessary.

The Commission took care of any lingering discomfort he had around the subject. So really, magic aside, he's an ideal person to take care of a severed tongue.

It's quite a leap to go from that subject to one that is far more dear to his heart, but she manages to in just a few words. He could close his eyes and see Dolores right now if he wanted to. Talks to her often in the language Emilia is speaking now, but at her question he gives her a distant nod.

"I've been everywhere." All over history. He's murdered the world over, but it's a much more tender memory that he thinks of now. "My wife spoke it."

Emilia has seen that distant look before.

With Wrath, though only once. They were speaking of the First Witch's daughter, the one who was brutally slain along with a few of her royal ladies. He'd been looking at Emilia, but she could tell he wasn't really seeing her anymore. A wisp of a memory had taken hold, careening him toward a past she can no longer remember. She wants to reach that wretched place, but a curse prevents her arrival.

She's done dreadful things in the pursuit of those answers, the ones that involve her curse and the ones that involve her twin's death. Wrathful she's been, and vicious, too. Made a vow long ago to let nothing stand in her way. But she is not made of stone, and is never unmoved by loss. The sort of loss and pain she would not wish on anyone.

"What would she have to say about all of this?"

It's the first thing she learned about Five. The first thing of true substance. That he loved a woman named Dolores, and that he still talks to her from time to time. Likely when he needs her counsel most.

Five feels a pull in his chest every time she speaks. He can't decide if it's comforting to have someone genuinely ask about Dolores, or if it just makes her absence that much more tangible. His siblings never do. He thinks they've caught him talking to her once or twice before, but they seem to think it's some taboo subject, or they're afraid of what it might trigger.

They're just too young to understand what it's like to spend that many years with someone. Emilia doesn't appear to be older than them though, and the way she's looking at him, she didn't need him to explain why he still holds one-sided conversations with someone who isn't here. It makes him curious why, but he doesn't ask that.

"Which part?" Dolores wouldn't have been impressed by that most recent display. She knows he doesn't do well with people, worse in a crowd; and that even if he had a point, his temper didn't help his case. "If she could stop laughing at the concept of a magic tongue... she would have asked me if it was worth it. She'd say I was being stubborn when I could have used their help. Childish."

He scoffs and takes another drink. It isn't fair to make her sound overly critical. Five might not have always appreciated their disagreements, but he could usually see her point. She was only looking out for him.

"She also would have seen why I couldn't trust them." He examines at the bottle, avoiding her gaze. He's bothered the more he thinks about how they reacted, as if he hadn't been working with them during every step of their journey. "They're going to be trouble."

Emilia is not scared off by Five's biting ways — but in the same breath, is also aware of how swift and lethal he can be when he wishes. Perhaps it is ill-advised, to ask about a ghost that still brings him wound. There is true anguish she can sense when she stays long enough in his presence, fueled by more than grief. Fueled by more than fragments of a mirror, maybe.

But she cares enough to ask regardless, and listens in earnest. She only caught bits and pieces of the display in question, and so cannot give an informed opinion of her own. It seems there's been enough of that for one night, as it is.

"A formidable woman. It sounds like you met your match."

Dolores clearly held her own with him, as not just anyone would address Five in such a way. Emilia takes the bottle to pour herself some of the rum in a cup, and then hands it back to him. After a moment of silence, she adds, "You can trust him, you know."

He can trust Wrath, if no one else. Something Emilia would not have said only a year ago, when she'd thought him the architect of nightmares. The evil feared the world over: a true lord of darkness. Now she knows better. Knows he is neither good nor evil. He simply exists, a fallen angel ruled by duty. If she'd trust anyone with a magic tongue, it would be him.

Trouble seems to be one of the requisites with this group. Emilia and Five themselves are no exception. Needs conflict at every turn, and decisions must be made. Many of them possess enough conviction to do what they believe must be done, and rarely will their thoughts align so perfectly. There is no one leader making collective decisions, but that might be for the best.

Choice is power, Wrath would say. For better and for worse.

Edited 2022-08-14 23:28 (UTC)

What happened shouldn't have bothered Five as much as it did. He's been misunderstood his entire life, and he very plainly only trusts the people they travel with so long as they have a common goal. It's no surprise that they'd do the same to him, and that their courtesy would end once he upset the balance of power. Even when he was the Commission's best assassin, they watched him like a hawk, and a part of him thinks they saw his betrayal coming from miles away. Apparently their group here was no different.

Even with his family, he's used to arguing, and having his opinions be ignored. He's always only had himself to rely on, and having anyone else around just complicates his plans. He nearly lost his mind out in the apocalypse, but there are days when he misses the solitude. When it was just him and Dolores.

He smiles faintly at her impression of Dolores. It doesn't hurt that she's reminding him of his significantly better half, but he can admit that Emilia has at least been someone who has grown on him. Her attachment to Wrath has a little to do with that too. They make sense in a way that not many people do. Maybe that has something to do with living in Hell that gives them a common perspective. He almost wants to ask more about what it's like just for comparison's sake.

"There's a reason I'm here." A compliment to both of them. Five is grateful they secured a boat and kept his family safe. If he weren't still convinced that the party is the best way to find the rest of his missing siblings he'd suggest this was a prime opportunity to go their separate ways while the others fret over what he might be keeping from them.

"I should have realized what he was doing, but maybe it's better that he did." He's talking about Wrathion now, because it still puts a sour taste in his mouth. "Now I know which ones are just waiting for an excuse."

If she's honest with herself, Emilia hasn't been any more charitable with her thoughts, especially in the beginning. She came to this world betrayed, moments after learning the first man she ever cared for was complicit in her sister's murder. They were doomed once he started his religious life, but she still hadn't anticipated the depth of his virulent disgust. Disgust towards her, for being a witch. Disgust towards himself, for wanting her still. And she'd only proven him right, hadn't she? Torturing him within an inch of his life.

Her only regret is she didn't smash his skull against the floor, didn't watch the life leave those hate-filled eyes like she'd wanted to. Death would have been a kindness, though. She still doesn't feel particularly kind.

An exhale, as she collects her thoughts.

"This is all relatively new to me — working with a group. Certainly one so big. In my world, to be a witch is to sin, and it is only punishable by execution. There weren't many of us left: our ancestors all burned, and it was too dangerous to meet, even in secret."

One fratello in particular used to scour the streets, barge into houses, poke into businesses, looking for anyone with evil in their soul. As children, Emilia and Vittoria would hide in their bed at night, praying to goddesses the former had never truly believed in. It was all she'd really had, her family. And her family taught her to never spill their secrets.

"It has taught me many things about allies and about trust, and the fact they're not mutually exclusive."

He doesn't have to like or trust the group. But they'll still get more done working together than alone.

Five is aware enough of himself that he knows that he's not always be thought of as the best listener, or the most empathetic one. It's striking then, whenever someone decides to share something about themselves that not everyone hears, and he leans in as he absorbs the story she tells him.

Ironically, Hermione was the last to tell him about some of what she went through, unprompted by him. From what he's gathered, witches seem to have a stigma that superheroes never did. He can't remember anyone being afraid of him when he was a child. They were essentially teenage celebrities up until he jumped to the future. The decades that followed obviously changed that perception, but working directly with a larger group — he hesitates to call them peers — and dealing with their opinions is generally new to him.

"Thank god for that," he replies, smiling like she'd made a joke. They expect too much out of him, for all he's helped them along the way. It's nice that Emilia sees that, even if she seems to imply that he has no choice but to continue that relationship. "I don't know what they want from me. The distrust I'm used to, but it's been over a year and I haven't... intentionally betrayed them. I've made it clear what my priorities are."

He knows what Moran has against him, but he doesn't understand why they suddenly seem so offended that he won't give them more than what he's offered all along. On the other hand, they aren't trying to burn them at the stake, and none of them have asked him for anything worse than what he had to do at the Commission. Maybe it's a matter of perspective.

When he takes another drink, he's not as angry as he was before she found him, but he's also realistic. They're just waiting for him to give them an excuse.

"There may come a day when that balance shifts. They could find out more than they wanted to about me, and it'll be out of my hands." If they're trying to blackmail him already, he can just imagine it'll be worse if they find out how many innocent people he's killed. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family."

He listens, devoid of pity or false sentimentality. It eases some of the tension that had lined up her shoulders, for she was in want of neither. Perhaps that is why she's able to say it. Her moment of sincerity was this: sincere, though she herself does not look vulnerable. At every turn, she toils to find herself this way, unbowed. Possessed of as much of herself as she can be.

She does not fear him, and he does not fear her. She would not want him to, she thinks. Her enemies, yes. But not him. At some point, he became something closer to friend. Through the commonalities they share, the people they protect.

Yet his words are a reminder that could change, and she meets his eyes, unwavering. He reminds her of a promise she made to herself, what feels like long ago. To do what she must to achieve her goals. To let nothing, and no one, stand in her way. The truth of that cuts, as Wrath learned. A mirthless smile pulls at her lips, like another joke shared.

"Five Hargreeves, of that I have no doubt. You wouldn't be here still, otherwise."

Would not be here at all. If not for love of his family, and his desire to find the rest. That he hasn't left tells her there may be fixing this, but not tonight. Tonight, she'll give him the space to sort through what happened.

"We'll regroup tomorrow." Yes, we. "What matters is it's in our possession, if it has to exist at all."

Edited 2022-09-03 07:36 (UTC)

There's a reason he gave her that warning. He holds her gaze, and watches as she seems to know exactly what he meant by it. There's no need to tell her what he'd be willing to do if it meant getting his family home, or what he's already done to make it this far. Although one look at him and she can see how it's worn him down. It should have been over by now. Somehow his plans have always backfired, and it's been setback after setback.

Back when he first jumped to 2019, he was naive. He'd handed away his humanity just to get to that point, and yet he'd barely had a plan once he was there. He really thought just being with his family with his one clue would be enough to change the timeline and avert the apocalypse. The Handler called it a fantasy, and he's still chasing it.

He recognizes that part of himself in Emilia. It's in the way she smiles at him that seems to say she knows what it means to have something so important, that there's no limit to what you might do.

"Tomorrow," he agrees with a nod. At least a handful of them know that he wouldn't make the same mistake again. He considers the bottle, and the rum that's likely in short supply, and gestures with it. "Mind if I keep this?"

Dolores never liked it when he drank this much, but it helps to dull his rage, and the frustration that might have boiled over otherwise. It was one of the few vices he could indulge in in the apocalypse, whenever he was lucky enough in his scavenging. He doesn't know if Emilia recognized that need, or if she just thought he could use something to take the edge off, but he's grateful either way.

For that and for understanding. It's not easy.

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storm at sea | part ii

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cw: zealotry, violence

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