Visions in Silver

 is considered a WARNINGWARNING in Sunless Skies.

Story description
"You see not what is, but what should be. You remember not what was, but what should have been."

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

Interaction description
These desciptions appear specifically when the value changes.
 * [ 0 ] You are seeing what really is.
 * [ 1 ] You are seeing what really ought to be.

Decreased Interaction description
These desciptions appear specifically when the value decreases.
 * [ 0 ] You are seeing what really is.

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

unseen_queen_description

 * [ 0 ] Amid the rubbish-heaps, space has been cleared for a throne of scrap metal and broken wood. Atop the throne sits a faded portrait. \n\nThe frame is silver-painted wood; it depicts a noblewoman sitting before an open window, hands folded neatly in her lap. Over her shoulder shines a crescent moon. The face has been furiously scratched out. \n\n\"I would prefer you not see me like this,\" says the Unseen Queen mournfully. Her voice is melodious, ethereal, and comes from nowhere."
 * [ 1 ] The Unseen Queen's throne-room is a ceaseless bustle of activity; servants attend her every whim, courtiers bombard her with anecdotes and wait in suspense for her laughter, stewards bring her petitions and scrolls. She waved them all away as soon as the herald announced your arrival, but they soon creep back around her.

unseen_queen_first_mission

 * [ 0 ] When you ask, the rats cease to scurry and the flies no longer buzz. The Queen's portrait sits silently on her rusted throne.
 * [ 1 ] When you ask this question, the bustling courtiers whisper to each other eagerly. They withdraw, leaving you and the Queen momentarily alone."

dustyards_description

 * [ 0 ] You descend to the deepest reaches of London, below even the shrouded slums. This dim realm is called Underlondon, and like most underthings, it is not mentioned in polite company. \n\nOnly the most desperate scavengers venture into Underlondon. Here, the city's rubbish collects in heaps the size of hills; the city's refuse falls like unpleasant, unrelenting rain."
 * [ 1 ] The Unseen Queen's castle is many leagues from your own, and you have ridden a great distance to get here. As you approach from a distance, you can see the castle sitting splendidly atop a mountain, silhouetted against the moon. Reaching it, however, is another matter entirely. \n\nThe path becomes too steep for your exhausted destrier; you will have to proceed on foot, if you can find a path at all through the thick gorse.

search_for_queen

 * [ 0 ] Search amid the detritus for the so-called 'Unseen Queen'"
 * [ 1 ] Try to find a path to the castle

didnt_find_queen

 * [ 0 ] You search for days, clambering across mountain-sized heaps of abandoned, rusting metal. But you don't find anything that could be said to resemble a queen."
 * [ 1 ] You search for days, but the wooded mountain stubbornly refuses to yield up a path to the castle. After so much time wasted tramping back and forth, you sit on a tree-stump and wretchedly assess your situation.\n\nExcept... it's not a tree-stump. It's something which is dreadfully, dishearteningly squelchy. And you're no longer at the foot of a mountain, but at the foot of a mountain-size heap of rubbish. Where are you? How did you get here?

found_queen

 * [ 0 ] After a few hours of searching, you come across a curious sight. \n\nA section of the rubbish-heap has been assiduously cleared and flattened. The pieces of rubbish that remain seem to have been carefully chosen for aesthetic reasons – piping, wire, scrap metal – and assembled into something approaching a throne. \n\nAnd sitting in the throne, a faded old portrait."
 * [ 1 ] After a few hours of searching, the path reveals itself to you, opening up between the tangled trees with such a wonderful suddenness that you almost suspect magic at work. It doesn't take long to climb to the castle, where you call your name to the guard and wait as the drawbridge is lowered across a silver moat. \n\n\"The Unseen Queen awaits you inside,\" says the guard. \"You must have come far. Shall I order the servants to run a hot bath and fetch you a large dinner?\"

speak_to_the_queens_courtiers

 * [ 0 ] Kneel and inspect the rats"
 * [ 1 ] Speak to the Queen's courtiers

queens_courtiers

 * [ 0 ] As you kneel, the rodents form a semi-circle around you. One of them squeaks, runs a little way, then runs back and squeaks again.\n\nFinally you relent, and follow it between several mounds of rubbish. It stops beside the small corpse of some unidentifiable creature that looks like a cross between worm and crab.\n\nWhatever this is, you've never seen it anywhere else. It might be a monster unique to London's undercarriage. Probably best to take it back to the engine for study."
 * [ 1 ] The Queen's courtiers are exceedingly polite. Some are even reverential. \n\n\"The quest for the Cup is the highest of callings,\" explains her seneschal earnestly, nibbling at a wedge of cheese. \"We are always pleased to harbour another sworn knight in our household.\"\n\nAfter a moment's consideration, he rummages in his pockets and retrieves the small, dripping corpse of some unidentifiable creature. It looks like a cross between worm and crab. \"Here,\" he says. \"This is all I can give you for now. I hope it helps on your quest.\"\n\nYou thank him as fulsomely as you can, and try not to sound too taken aback.

duelling_the_quester

 * [ 0 ] A crowd is forming around you, the Chamberlain, and a moaning overseer. \"Why the delay, blaggard?\" asks the Chamberlain, weaving his fountain pen back and forth like a sword. You grab his wrist, but he wriggles free. \"Cheater! Fight me fair and square beneath the moonlight, coward!\" He turns on his heels and flees, darting down an alleyway."
 * [ 1 ] Your foe is waiting atop the hill, sitting astride a destrier of his own. He is a knight in burnished armour, brandishing a sword with a red hilt and black blade. His latest conquest lies mangled at his feet: a demon with eyes of burning coal and flayed skin. As the knight turns his horse, it tramples the demon's corpse.\n\n\"Have you come to challenge me for my sword?\" demands the knight, his eyes gleaming coldly. \"Come, then. You may take it blade-first.\"

shield_description

 * [ 0 ] You hold up the tarnished nameplate torn from the hull of the Parzifal.
 * [ 1 ] You hold up the shining shield, and the walls of the court dance with reflected moonlight. The courtiers start to applaud; the Queen gracefully inclines her head."

throne_description

 * [ 0 ] You tell the Queen the tale of how you sat upon the Blindness Throne, and walked away with your eyesight intact. She listens raptly."
 * [ 1 ] You tell the Queen the tale of how you sat upon the Blindness Throne, and walked away with your eyesight intact. She listens raptly. The courtiers mutter admiringly among themselves.

cloak_description

 * [ 0 ] You unfurl the dirty flag that you found entangled in a weather-vane."
 * [ 1 ] You unfurl the Cloak of the Lion, shimmering like gossamer. As the cloak ripples, the symbol of the lion seems to charge and pounce across the cloth. The courtiers raise an astounded cheer.

proven_worthy

 * [ 0 ] \"I am proud of you,\" says the Unseen Queen. A circle of rats and beetles form at your feet, squeaking and chittering their approval.
 * [ 1 ] The court erupts in wild cheering. A bottle of fine wine is thrust into your hands, and the seneschal proposes a toast. The Queen quietens celebrations with a single upraised finger."

tournament_description

 * [ 0 ] The Grand Tournament stretches over countless acres of mud and filth. The air is filled with sobbing, incoherent shouting, screams; occasionally, the rhythmic thud of fists hitting flesh.\n\nThere are hundreds of questers wandering back and forth in the desolation, some more lucid than others. Most are miserable specimens: bleary-eyed, shivering, wearing threadbare rags. You pass one on his hands and knees, furiously gnawing at a freshly-caught rat and complimenting a non-existent chef."
 * [ 1 ] The Grand Tournament stretches over countless acres of the Queen's gardens. The air is filled with song, laughter, the roaring of crowds; occasionally, the clash and clang of weaponry. Cooks are working tirelessly in the open air, roasting entire pigs on spits, mixing spices, baking crusty breads, and generally filling the air with a barrage of mouth-watering scents. \n\nThe happy atmosphere among the spectators belies the tension among the knights. Each quester is determined to triumph and take up the completed Minute to Midnight.

jousting_success

 * [ 0 ] Your rival jouster is riding a wretched-looking mule, and waving a broomstick. You don't have a steed, so you recruit a sturdy quester and climb onto his shoulders.\n\nYou ride toward each other at incredible speed. (Incredible in its slowness.) Finally you meet at the centre, and you gently push the other fellow from his precarious perch. \n\n\"Victory!\" shouts one of the surrounding questers, banging two tin cans together. \"Glory to the new champion!\"
 * [ 1 ] Your rival jouster is riding a scarred destrier that looks as though it has something demonic in its ancestry. When you ride into the ring, your rival shoots you a sneer, then flips his visor shut. \n\nYour horses thunder toward each other at incredible, ground-shaking speed. Once, twice, three times you clash, and the spectators gasp as though they are witnessing the collision of two gods. Finally, on the fourth pass, you plant your lance squarely under the crook of his arm and lift him bodily from the saddle. \n\n\"Victory!\" shouts the announcer, to the sound of bugles. \"Glory to the new champion!\""

jousting_fail

 * [ 0 ] Your rival jouster is riding a wretched-looking mule, and waving a broomstick. You don't have a steed, so you recruit a sturdy quester and climb onto his shoulders. \n\nYou ride toward each other at incredible speed. (Incredible in its slowness.) Finally you meet in the middle, and his broomstick hits you in the solar plexus with surprisingly vicious accuracy. You topple over and land badly, twisting your arm underneath you. \n\n\"Another challenger falls!\" shouts one of the surrounding questers, banging two tin cans together.
 * [ 1 ] Your rival jouster is riding a scarred destrier that looks as though it has something demonic in its ancestry. When you ride into the ring, your rival shoots you a sneer, then flips his visor shut. \n\nYour horses thunder toward each other at incredible, ground-shaking speed. Once, twice, three times you clash, and the spectators gasp as though they are witnessing the collision of two gods. Finally, on the fourth pass, your rival plants his lance squarely in your solar plexus and lifts you bodily from the saddle. \n\n\"Another challenger falls!\" shouts the announcer, to the sound of bugles. It's an hour before you can walk again."

melee_description

 * [ 0 ] Now you can see clearly, you realise that the melee is not filled with armoured knights. It is a sprawling collection of questers, most of them scrawny and dressed in tatters, battering each other with fists and sticks. The portrait of the Unseen Queen watches it all from atop a heightened throne."
 * [ 1 ] The melee is a terrifying thing, like a monster in itself. A heaving mass of thrashing, convulsing armour. Occasionally a battered knight will crawl out from among the stamping boots and collapse, exhausted, at the edge.

challenger_description

 * [ 0 ] Even outside the moonlit realm, Isery strikes an impressive figure. They are tall, lithe, wearing practical clothes. Is that a set of clawed brass rings on their hand? They've dropped their earlier camaraderie – perhaps it was always a facade, or perhaps it has simply been muscled out by a desire to win. \n\n\"How shall we decide this?\" Isery asks. \"Not that it matters. I can best you in any contest you care name.\"
 * [ 1 ] Isery is a knight in heavy steel mail, androgynous, alluring, their eyes glinting with the promise of violence. They've dropped the earlier camaraderie – perhaps it was always a facade, or perhaps it has simply been muscled out by a desire to win. \n\n\"How shall we decide this?\" they ask, their hand at the hilt of their sword. \"Not that it matters. I can best you in any contest you care name.\""

search_for_queen2

 * [ 0 ] Ugh. Where to begin?
 * [ 1 ] Your vivid memory of that soaring, magnificent castle spurs you on. But first you must fight your way through the tangled woods."

visit_queen

 * [ 0 ] She awaits you on her throne of rust.
 * [ 1 ] The drawbridge lowers with a creak. The guard waves you through."

swear_fealty

 * [ 0 ] A tide of insects scatter as you kneel in the dust and pledge your loyalty.\n\n\"I accept your oath, my knight.\" The Queen doesn't sound displeased, though it is hard to tell anything from the scratched, faded portrait. \"But if you truly wish to demonstrate your loyalty to me, I have just one plea. Forget what you see before you now, and instead choose to walk in a loftier reality. Do not turn your face from moonlight.\"
 * [ 1 ] The Queen's hand flies to her throat when you kneel and make your pledge. She seems both surprised and pleased. \n\n\"If you truly wish to demonstrate your loyalty to me, my knight, I have but one plea.\" She raises her hand, catching the moonbeams that shine through the vaulted window. \"Do not turn your face from moonlight. Walk forever in lofty dreams of the world as it should be.\""

minute_midnight

 * [ 0 ] You went all the way to Brabazon in order to retrieve a fountain pen, you say, holding up the offending article."
 * [ 1 ] You kneel before her throne, holding the black blade aloft. Her courtiers gasp.

shield_description2

 * [ 0 ] You recovered it from the wreck of the Parzifal.
 * [ 1 ] You rescued it from the clutches of a sorceress."

cloak_description2

 * [ 0 ] You found it at the top of a crumbling tower in Pan."
 * [ 1 ] You crossed the Falchion Bridge and recovered it from the antlers of a buried monster.

draw_sword

 * [ 0 ] You retrieve the Chamberlain's battered fountain pen from your pocket. \"This?\""
 * [ 1 ] You draw the black-bladed sword from its scabbard. \"This?\"

tournament_begins

 * [ 0 ] How long does she need? \"The Tournament will begin in two weeks,\" says the Queen. \n\nSilence settles across the wasteland. A gust of wind scatters scraps of paper across her lonely throne. "
 * [ 1 ] The Queen calls up her seneschal and hands him a scroll. \"At last,\" mutters the seneschal. \"The Grand Tournament. We've been waiting for years. How long do I have to make preparations?\"\n\n\"The Tournament will begin in two weeks,\" says the Queen. The seneschal stares at her in abject horror, then turns on his heels and begins shrieking instructions to his attendants.

cup_hesitate

 * [ 0 ] For a moment the painting sits still and silent. Then, the Queen's voice murmurs once more from the canvas.
 * [ 1 ] The Queen hesitates, clasping her hands under her chin.

Interactions in Brief
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Interactions in Detail
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