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Knives and Spiders | |
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Category | Story Event |
Type | Story |
Data ID | 303572 |
Knives and Spiders is a Sunless Skies Story Event.
Story description[ | ]
Far From Their Ruined Homes(battle_text)
Trigger conditions[ | ]
Location: The White Well
Area: Limbo
Frequency: Always (100%)
Interactions[ | ]
Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes |
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Join the fight on the Psalmists' side
Perhaps you can turn the tide.
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Failed event | |
A bold manoeuvre
You lead your crew in a charge up the street, tearing into the Widows' flanks. You quickly discover that they're as evasive as smoke. You stab at them and they scuttle out of reach; you shoot at them and they skitter on all fours into alleyways.
A Widow abruptly drags one of your crew beneath the snow in a thrashing red flurry. Another of your crew slashes at her with his sabre, only to have another appear behind him and drive her sharpened fingertips through his throat. He collapses choking. Your crew retreat before the Widows' onslaught. The Psalmists will have to fight without you.
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Successful event | |||
Bombardment
Your engine casts the Widows' village in sudden shadow. They stare up, screeching, and then perish in tangled agony under a hail of shelling. Their cottages burn. Their corpses writhe amid the flames.
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Join the fight on the Widows' side
Once again the Psalmists haven't even attempted to co-exist with their neighbours. They've gone too far.
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Let his days be few
"Betrayal!" shouts the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest. He spits curses your way. It does him no good.
Between your crew's sustained gunfire and the emergence of more and more Widows from the shadows, the Psalmists start to drop like flies. They retreat fighting to the town-square and stand back-to-back, firing their guns until the bullets run out. The Widows close in. You raise your rifle and shoot the Priest directly in the chest. He is still swinging his knife as he falls.
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Let them fight among themselves
This isn't your battle. Best to stay out of it.
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The battle rages
Widows and Psalmists clash in the street, thrashing silhouettes half-hidden by howling mist and gunsmoke. There's no point trying to observe. You catch only the occasional glimpse of carnage, flinchingly gruesome.
You and your crew retreat to the train and wait for the racket to die down. Someone suggests backgammon and cocoa.
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Inspect the carnage
Someone must have 'won,' whatever 'winning' means here.
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Let them be before the Lord
A fresh layer of snow has already blanketed the Psalmists' bodies. They lie in a huddle at the village's centre, propped back-to-back, rifles still clutched in frozen hands.
The Matronly Relict appears at your side, softly clucking her tongue. She gestures, and the surviving Widows begin to drag the corpses one by one into her tar-black cottage. You manage to salvage the Priest's body, at least, before the Widows get to him. The Priest mentioned that his sect split off from the cult at Old Tom's Well. Perhaps they'd welcome the chance to bury their wayward son.
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Inspect the carnage
Someone must have 'won,' whatever 'winning' means here.
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The broken in heart
As it turns out, no one is quite sure who won. The Priest is delivering a sermon to a few battered survivors as they bury their dead. The tangled corpses of Widows are lying in bloodless heaps, disoriented spiders erupting from every pore.
Both sides want time to lick their wounds. A truce is agreed. The Matronly Relict and the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest meet in the village square to shake hands; his looks tiny enclosed in the Relict's vast paw. "Won't last," mutters the Priest as he stumps away. It could be a prediction or a promise.
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Inspect the carnage
Someone must have 'won,' whatever 'winning' means here.
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Gone like the shadow
The corpses of Widows lie in tangled heaps, disoriented spiders erupting from every pore. The surviving Psalmists stalk the streets, prodding the dead with bayonets. When they reach the Relict's tar-black cottage, they hesitate, then kick down the door.
Empty, like a shucked skin. The Relict has knitted herself a trapdoor and disappeared down it. When he lifts the woven flap the Priest finds a single endless thread, descending into the infinite abyss of the Well. "This is a victory," says the Priest, lowering the flap of the trapdoor and carefully stepping away from it. "You will all be rewarded for your bravery." He glances your way. "Especially you. Meet me after we've finished cleaning up."
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Links[ | ]
Links In[ | ]
[[The [qvd:138643(Twice-scorned)] Priest]]
Links Out[ | ]
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