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An Enclave of the Dead
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 305868

An Enclave of the Dead is a Sunless Skies Story Event.

Story description[]

Airs of the Dead(Enclave)

Trigger conditions[]

Area: Limbo
Frequency: Always (100%)

Interactions[]

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Persuade the dead to show you a piece of lost sigil
Some are centuries old. If you share with them a tale of the wonders that are, they might tell you of wonders that were, before Victoria touched the skies.
Appreciation?
When you speak, the dead are quiet. When you pause for reaction, there are none. When you are done, still they are silent. Did they enjoy the story? Your performance?

One, a head shorter than the others, moves towards you. It grasps your palm, and traces a symbol onto your palm – once. It is not enough for you to learn the whole pattern, but it is a start.

Game note: You will need to feel the sigil three times before you can record the full sigil.

Put together the lost sigil
Twice you have had a sigil pressed into your hand by the dead. Each time you've gained a little more of its shape.
Third time's the charm
A cold hand grasps your own. A stroke across your palm. An arc. A corner. Another stroke and... That's it!
Enjoy their hospitality, alone
It is good to have company. Even the silent, masked company of the dead.
Sojourn
They feed you bowls of petrichor – the delicate, wispy food of the dead, sweet and fragile as meringue. There is no conversation, but they listen politely as you speak. By the time you depart, you feel somewhat refreshed.
Enjoy their hospitality with your crew
The crew are wary, but your hosts insistently press bowls of pale food into your hands.
Sojourn
You tarry a while, waited on by the slow, courteous spirits of the dead. Their food is petrichor, the sweet, spun-sugar confectionery eaten in the Kingdom. The ruins are still and restful. You doze a while, and wake to porcelain masks, watching over you.
Deter your crew from remaining with their loved ones
Your crew say they see familiar figures among the dead. Some wish to remain, with those they had thought were lost.
Failed event Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Abandoned
Try as you might to appeal to their reason or their superstition, some of your crew are convinced they have reunited with lost loved ones. They embrace. Dead fingers fold around living ones. When you depart, some choose to remain behind.
Successful event
False hope
The shades reach out cool hands, touching your crew's hair, or their cheeks, or plucking at their sleeves.

You appeal to your crew's rationality. Are these likely to be the spirits of those they once knew? How big is the sky? How many spirits throng in the Blue Kingdom? What are the odds, really?

Reluctantly, your crew accept your mathematics, and draw away.
Deter your shades from lingering
Some of the shades among your crew seem to recognise the spirits here. They indicate, silently, that they wish to remain here.
Failed event Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Missing
It's no good. The shades are quiet, but determined. And once they have mingled, it's hard to tell which of them were members of your crew and which were not. You depart the enclave fewer than you arrived.
Successful event
Gainful employment
You remind them of your contract; of your generosity; of their duties. Reluctantly, your masked crew disentangle themselves from the enthusiastic dead who had welcomed them and file back aboard your engine.
Let your crew remain behind, if they so choose
They are free to leave.
Reunited
You say your goodbyes and give them your blessing. Perhaps they really have found their lost loved ones. It would be a nice thought.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Share visions of the heavens with them
Speak of the wonders of the heavens. Give them hope.
Renewed
The shades sit at your feet. You are surrounded by an arc of porcelain death-masks, all tipped avidly towards you. When you have finished, they rise with new purpose and turn towards Death's Door. They are determined to try again.
Recruit shades for your crew
What have they to gain, staying here?
New recruits
After a one-sided negotiation, a number of the shades are willing to join you. The other members of the enclave beseech them, silently, to stay, but it doesn't help. A line of wordless spirits file past you onto your engine.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Trade petrichor for souls
These shades only have one thing to sell: their souls.
Pressing your advantge
A single crate of petrichor – the food of the dead – wins you an armful of shimmering souls. The shades that parted with them didn't have receptacles to spare, so you trapped them in milk bottles you salvaged from the galley.
Offer a caged catch to sate their hunger
You have just the thing on board. It's temper is high, its blood red.

Game note: Gain an Unlicensed Chart.

Fair payment
As payment, the shades draw several maps in the dust of the ruins: hidden alleyways through the tangled necropolis of the Kingdom. You copy them into a journal and depart, while the spirits close around the catch in its cage.
Let them drink the ichor in your blood
You have consumed enough petrichor that your blood has begun to turn into ichor: thick as treacle and the colour of milk. The dead crave it.
An exchange
You cut your hand. The shades flock forward, catching droplets of ichor in their cold hands and cramming it under their masks to lick at it.

You feel a scratch in your throat. A sense of choking. Then suddenly you are screeching secrets you never knew.

The dead are forbidden from using their own voices, but not from using yours. The ichor allows them, for a moment, to commandeer your throat. For an hour, you allow them to speak. Sometimes they confess. Sometimes they rant. Sometimes they recite poetry, or sing, or simply delight in repeating words they liked the sound of.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Trade living food for gemstones
The shades are keen to taste flavours they dimly recall from life.
Good business
You open a crate of Murgatroyd's Fungal Crackers, and they fall ravenously on the contents. In return, they give you a cask of gemstones, blazing all the colours of the sky. A satisfactory trade.
Join the silent celebration
Don a mask. Drink the moonlit waters. Dance with the dead.
Failed event
A bit of a muddle
Your crew participate eagerly in the revel. At some point, additional masks are produced and passed out. Your crew don them, as a gesture of courtesy. Intoxicating starlit waters are served in golden cups. There is general indulgence. Later, there is an exchange of masks. After the revel is concluded, some of your crew aren't to be found. Are they behind one of the porcelain masks, among the ranks of the dead? What is more, some of those working in the engine room now seem to be silent shades, diligently working as if they had always been there.
Successful event
Festivities
The silence that hangs over the revel is melancholy, but nevertheless the celebration helps you forget your other troubles. You sport with spirits, chasing them through the tumbled pillars. You dance in a ray of starched sunlight. A lissome shade gives you a white flower, tiny as a button.
Depart quietly
Leave the dead to their affairs.
Away
You climb back onto your engine and steam away. The shades watch you fom behind their solemn masks.
Depart quietly
Leave the dead to their affairs.
Away
You climb back onto your engine and steam away. The shades watch you fom behind their solemn masks.


Links[]

Links In[]

Links Out[]

To Assemble a Name from Scars


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