An Expedition To

 is considered a WARNINGWARNING in Sunless Skies.

Circumstance description
"You have embarked on an expedition into Traitor's Wood. "

Quality status
 has different statuses according to your actions, defined by the comment in front of the quality.

Journal description

 * [ 1 ] The Palewood: The nearer star-dappled reaches of the Wood
 * [ 2 ] The Shroudwood: The starlit glades and marshes on the far side of the Wood
 * [ 3 ] The Deepwood: The starless groves near the heart of the Wood
 * [ 4 ] The Regent's Grave: The barrow at the Wood's beating heart

Interaction description
These desciptions appear specifically when the value changes.
 * [ 1 ] The Palewood: The nearer star-dappled reaches of the Wood.
 * [ 2 ] The Shroudwood: The starlit glades and marshes on the far side of the Wood.
 * [ 3 ] The Deepwood: The starless groves near the heart of the Wood.
 * [ 4 ] The Regent's Grave: The barrow at the Wood's beating heart.

Variable Interaction description
These desciptions appear when a specific group is called for text.

Crossing

 * [ 0 ] Crossing
 * [ 1 ] A few stones are speckled across a laughing stream. Getting across involves much flailing of limbs and the occasional undignified leap. Trouble occurs half-way across where a stone has clearly shifted in a recent storm. Your tallest crewman is required to serve as a bridge.
 * [ 2 ] A bridge lies broken in the river. Bridge is perhaps a loose term. Brunel never cast his eye over this sorry assortment of slabs. They shift and creak in the water, and one crewman is almost lost to sudden concussion.
 * [ 3 ] A bridge, such as chariots might have thundered over, once stood here, though only pillars remain. Navigating those requires sudden feats of athleticism and fervent prayers to the prevailing wind. This place was once tamed, but now runs wild.
 * [ 4 ] A bridge, such as chariots might have thundered over, once stood here, though only pillars remain. Navigating those requires sudden feats of athleticism and fervent prayers to the prevailing wind. This place was once tamed, but now runs wild."

Picnic

 * [ 0 ] Picnic
 * [ 1 ] You ford a steep hill and find the Feckless Theologian and the Dismal Paleographer sharing a bottle of brandy at the summit. The Paleographer twines flowers in his hair, while the Theologian corrects him: “Violets, never roses. And never, ever ever, lilies. There, I look half Elagabalus already.” They do not bother to notice you, lost in quiet bickering.
 * [ 2 ] The Feckless Theologian is lying in the Vituperative Classicist’s lap. She reads out her favourite passages from Virgil, in between swigs from a large amphora. The Theologian drinks even more fervently, as he laments the poet’s treatment of Turnus. The discussion soon turns to debate, and then disappointment, as the Classicist storms away. Neither notices you, lost in wine and vitriol.
 * [ 3 ] The Dismal Paleographer and the Vituperative Classicist are sat over a book of sketches. They share a flask of some amber liquid, passing it between them. “This is of you, I think.” “I always thought it was you; he always represented you as a hawk.” “And you a swallow.” “He preferred eagles.” They lapse into silence, either not seeing or ignoring you.
 * [ 4 ] The remnant of a picnic basket sits empty in the pouring rain. Empty glasses fill with water. A plate is washed away."

Lost

 * [ 0 ] Lost
 * [ 1 ] You’re able to find your way to a steep hill, covered in an avalanche of leaves. You pull your way to the top, and the way ahead is clear, just a few miles to the south. The shadow of the barrow falls over you.
 * [ 2 ] You have to go back. You ignore all complaints, doubts, and shrieks of anguish. Back across that river, right at the dead yew, thrice up the hill when you thought you were lost again. But - at last - the trail you were following is before you once more. The fires of the camp are very far away.
 * [ 3 ] The shadows of the trees fall all around you. Twigs snap under your feet as you make your way on, almost blind through the dark. The lighting of a lantern almost starts a fire. An unexpected pond ruins boots and morale. Something lows in the copse just beside you. But – eventually – you find your way to a familiar spot.
 * [ 4 ] You can’t even hear your crew. Alone in the dark of the wood. Neither sign nor compass to guide your way. You fumble through the blind wood for what seems hours. Every time you look behind, all signs of your passage have seemingly vanished, swept away. Could you find your way back? And then, like the rising of the first star in the evening, you find yourself in a wooded glade. Your crew is waiting. All speak of eery trails and sudden silences opening before them."

Glade

 * [ 0 ] Glade
 * [ 1 ] The little glade is marshy and wets your boots, yet affords a quick short-cut through the high birches on either side. A babbling brook cutting through the middle affords you the change to slake your thirsts.
 * [ 2 ] The forest opens onto a large grove, where great hagwood trees vye with storm ashes for dominion of the skies. Someone has attempted to cultivate beds of flowers here, once long ago. Wildflowers now run wild in the deep hollows of the grove.
 * [ 3 ] The glade is more of a valley, which chases a river that courses laughing through the wild of the wood. Two lines of bronzewood trees mighty and terrible form the spine of the glade, like the pillars of a cathedral.
 * [ 4 ] The glade is as deep and dark as the bottom of a well. Fireflies guide your way through the hollows and hidden places contained therein. At one point, the path narrows so tightly that you are forced to go two by two through the dark.

Interactions in Brief
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Interactions in Detail
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