Conspiring with the Cult

 is considered a Journal Quality Albion: Worlebury-juxta-Mare in Sunless Skies.

Quest description
"You have met the cult in the Off Season. Perhaps you sympathise with their cause."

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

Journal description

 * [ 1 ] The cult seeks new blood from Worlebury-juxta-Mare
 * [ 5 ] Return to the church in the Off Season for your reward
 * [ 10 ] The cult has another task for you
 * [ 11 ] Take leaflets to the Avid Horizon
 * [ 15 ] Return to the cult in the Off Season to report your success
 * [ 20 ] The cult has one more task for you
 * [ 25 ] Commune with the Fluke in the mists
 * [ 99 ] [COMPLETE]You've done as the Parson, as the Scorn Fluke wished. Somehow this will help the cult prosper

Interaction description
These desciptions appear specifically when the value changes.
 * [ 1 ] The cult seeks new blood from Worlebury-juxta-Mare.
 * [ 5 ] Return to the church in the Off Season for your reward.
 * [ 10 ] The cult has another task for you.
 * [ 11 ] Take leaflets to the Avid Horizon.
 * [ 15 ] Return to the cult in the Off Season to report your success.
 * [ 20 ] The cult has one more task for you.
 * [ 25 ] Commune with the Fluke in the mists.
 * [ 99 ] You've done as the Parson, as the Scorn Fluke wished. Somehow this will help the cult prosper.

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

Result

 * [ 0 ] \"They were kind to you,\" the Bedraggled Parson says, abruptly and without vitriol, only a pale wonder, eyes fever-warm under the wilds of his hair. It is all he extends. \n\nWas he talking about the officials from the Bureau of Entertainments? Or someone else?"
 * [ 1 ] \"Some of them may resist, but it is only because they are afraid. Change is not intrinsic to human nature.\" The Bedraggled Parson bobs his head, mouth pinched to a gash. Surely he'd only desire new parishioners who want to be there?
 * [ 5 ] \"I hear them in my sleep, in the Mists, in the murmur of the On Season as they laugh, glass in their throats. They are crying out for change, for the world to shift. Tell me you've found them.\" The Bedraggled Parson warbles. \"Tell me you've shown them a way home.\" \n\nIt seems his concern for potential new parishioners goes further than merely increasing the number of his followers.
 * [ 10 ] \"We ignore our dreams too easily,\" says the Bedraggled Parson, eyes abstract, fixed on a sky obscured by sinew. \"We pretend that they are nothing but the brain misfiring, that they are memories poorly assembled. But they are more. They are how the gods speak to us. And They Who Must Grieve, they've sent me signs.\" \n\nHe is not talking with you, but at you. Does he care that he's near-incomprehensible? His followers nod, entranced. They understand, or do not care that they don't.
 * [ 11 ] \"We understand that it can feel demeaning.\" When he speaks, it is with the resonance of a choir, symphonic and strange. \"To do such... menial things. But they are necessary. As breathing is necessary, as light, as air.\"\n\nHe seems to be acknowledging the tasks he asks of you. This is almost certainly no indication that he intends to remunerate you suitably.
 * [ 15 ] \"Strangers, sour-faced, sour-mouthed, have begun to fill the Off Season. Is this your doing? If so, thank you.\" The Bedraggled Parson slants a heavy-lashed stare. \n\nThat certainly sounds like the Displeased you encountered in the Avid Horizon. What ship brought them here so swiftly?
 * [ 20 ] \"They are dreaming of you. They Who Must Grieve whisper to me in my sleep of your face, the lines of your throat and nose. They tell me things of you that I do not understand.\" The Bedraggled Parson's regard burns like sepsis, abyss-deep and incurious.
 * [ 25 ] \"Do not keep them waiting.\" The Bedraggled Parson sways his head to a music only he can hear, a mourner in the throes of a dirge. \"You must descend to them.\"\n\nHis encouragement is gentle, but consistent. He knows you will go into the mists eventually. It's just a matter of time.
 * [ 100 ] \"Aaaah.\" There is a new light to his fever-burnished stare, a hunger, deep as the throat of the sea. \"We are rejuvenated. When I sleep, there is another edge to their songs, something better than before.\"\n\nYou could not have cheered the Scorn Fluke. Could not have saved it. But it got something of value from you, and the parson knows this.

Aftermath

 * [ 0 ]
 * [ 99 ] Something has changed. Something in the gasping air, the texture of light, the smell of Worlebury-juxta-Mare. Perhaps, it is the diminished presence of the Bureau officials, how their swagger has tautened to fear. Perhaps, it is the number of tourists with glass in their eyes, their smiles like they'd caught a fever-bright."

Mists

 * [ 0 ] Mists
 * [ 25 ] The Parson leads you away from the corpse-church and towards the edge of the beach. The mist reaches for your ankles.
 * [ 30 ] This is not terrifying at all. Not the thin leather filaments holding your body. Not the jerky descent into the fog, the cottony silence.\n\nBut at least the cheerful cultists at the shore seem optimistic about your chances.

Interactions in Brief
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Interactions in Detail
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