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| A Disturbance in the Night | |
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| Category | Random Event |
| Type | Random |
| Data ID | 291576 |
A Disturbance in the Night is a Sunless Skies Random Event.
Story description[ | ]
You wake suddenly. Your candles have burned low and your eyes are still heavy with sleep. You are alone in your cabin. The winds of the Wilderness howl outside. You can feel the motion of the engine below you.
Something isn't right.
Trigger conditions[ | ]
Date ≥ 
You'll Come Back,
Welcomed Home ≥ 1
An Unwillingness to Leave ≥ 5
In Combat ≤ 0,
Location: The High Wilderness
Frequency: Always (100%)
Interactions[ | ]
| Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes | ||
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| Answer your door
Someone is knocking.
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Sleep interrupted
It is a stoker, in her nightcap and gown. Her face is abnormally pale and her eyes hollowed. The residue of tears stain her cheeks.
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain." She trails off, rubs her eyes, and takes a deep breath. "I've got a request. Can't we go back to Langley Hall? Not right away – but soon – we. I need to go back." She looks at you imploringly.
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Agree
Someday soon.
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She smiles, shedding the exhaustion. "Oh, the lads are gonna be so happy, Captain. Thank you. I shan't disturb you again." She heads back to her bunk.
Your crew are excited to return to Langley Hall. So much so that they start to make mistakes in their work.
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| Decline
You are captain of this train.
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Her face falls. "I see, Captain. Of course. Sorry to bother." She heads back to her bunk.
When you depart the next port, she is nowhere to be found.
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| Investigate a noise from the galley
You can hear voices and the scent of bacon is mouthwatering.
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Midnight feast
You creep through the dark carriages of your engine, following the smell of sizzling meat. The galley door is open, and light washes out from inside. Peering in you spy half a dozen of your crew setting up a midnight feast, replete with blankets, wine and costumes. They raise their mugs in toast to Lord Langley.
A signaller spies you as he lowers your glass. "____! Captain's here!"
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Join the midnight feast
It will be good for morale, if not your waistline.
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Shocked faces turn to delight. Space is made for you on the blanket and wine poured into a much battered mug. A toast is made in your honour. You only leave the galley after many hours – having had your fill of food and conversation.
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| Put a stop to this at once!
You won't see food wasted.
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Faces fall as you enter in high dudgeon. You oversee a quick return of the stocks and supervise a thorough clean of the galley. No, you won't get any sleep, but neither will they. There won't be any more plundering of the kitchen, at least. As they finish, one of the stokers goes to ask you something, but thinks better of it.
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| Investigate the music
Someone is playing the violin!
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Night music
You can hear the sounds of a jig, echoing through your locomotive. How no one else is up and raising murder is beyond you. You trace the music to its source: a stoker's cabin. His bunk-mate is swaddled in his blankets outside the door, holding his hands over his ears.
"Captain! Please, make him stop." Inside, you find your stoker in evening dress, with a fiddle under his chin. You recognise the melody. You heard it in Langley Hall.
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Support the fiddling stoker
He does play well.
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The fiddler smiles delightedly. The sleepless stoker is much less pleased – only your rank prevents him from speaking his mind. The playing continues well into the night, and the next three after.
After the next port, you do not see the fiddler's bunk-mate again.
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| Support the sleepless stoker
No one should be forced from their bunk by such a racket.
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The fiddler listens impassively to your instruction, and with some dignity, stows his instrument back in its case, before stalking back to bed. His bunkmate is profusely grateful.
Over the next few nights, various crew complain of hearing fiddling in various parts of the engine, but when you check, the stoker is always quietly asleep.
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| Follow the scent of burning
It's not something cooking, and the alarm hasn't been sounded. What could it be?
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Clandestine smoke
You follow the scent of smouldering past the galley and up to the bridge. A fire roars in an impromptu pit. A group of your engineers are arguing about the best way to distribute the coal. Someone is roasting marshmallows.
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Join them
It will be good for morale. Probably.
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You take advantage of the smoke to sneak in and steal a marshmallow. You eavesdrop on conversations – no one says anything even remotely scandalous about you. Tut. Eventually, you reveal yourself, to discover everyone had already noticed. Ale is passed, marshmallows are eaten – only after many hours is the fire allowed to burn low
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| Put a stop to this
You shouldn't waste fuel.
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You roar and remonstrate; how, you ask despairingly, can you have employed so many fools? How many hands does it take to render an engine adrift in an uncaring sky? This many. No one meets your gaze.
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| Leave them be
Your crew could use a break.
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You creep away, away from the warmth and companionship in the bridge, and back through the dark carriages to your cold bed where you will sleep alone.
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| Go back to sleep
It's only the wind, howling out in the dark.
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Long dark night
You press your head to the pillow. A few minutes later you are awake again. You feel an ache in your chest, and the image of Langley Hall swims behind your eyes. The call of sleep pulls you again.
You could, you realise, take a nip of something to ensure an undisturbed sleep. Or you might risk dreaming and find whatever it is that keeps slipping from your grasp.
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A dram of whiskey
To ease the night terrors.
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The whiskey goes down like comforting fire. You are out cold in moments. Yours is a dreamless and fuggy sleep. So deep, in fact, that it's long into the next shift before anyone dares rouse you.
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| Perchance to dream
You'll dare it.
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Moments after closing your eyes, you are dragged into sleep. You are at Langley Hall. Light floods from the windows; laughter and music and the sound of glasses clinking can be heard from within. Here you will always be safe, if you would but come home.
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