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| The Stair to the Sea | |
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| The Stair to the Sea (Sidebar) | |
| Located in | Albion |
| Ports | The Home Office |
| Shops | The Hungry Traveller |
The Stair to the Sea is a platform in Albion. It is located near Avid Horizon, at the edge of the chart.
Log Entries[]
A stair zig-zags down to the sea, where a flotilla of old ships lie mouldering.
Below you, a graveyard of abandoned ships. Dark, thirsty waters lap at them.
Ships rot on a silent sea. Only gloomy cults and homesick castoffs dwell here.
The Quiet Sea[]
| The Stair to the Sea | |
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| Category | Story Event |
| Type | Story |
| Data ID | 313657 |
A narrow ledge is lodged into the ice here. A stair thin as a shaft of starlight, plunges into the mists below.
This is the stairway down to the Flotilla, a makeshift raft of broken and abandoned ships, home to the similarly broken and abandoned.
All came through the Avid Horizon but were forbidden, for legal reasons, from entering Albion. The nearby Home Office keeps them contained here. Left thus to their own devices, they have formed cults.
Trigger conditions[]
Location: The Stair to the Sea
Area: The Quiet Sea
Frequency: Always (100%)
Interactions[]
| Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes |
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| Descend the Stair
Board the Flotilla. It's considered polite to bring an offering. Food or fuel for preference, but anything that can eaten or burnt for warmth would suffice.
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Down to a sunless sea
The winds rattle the iron railings, as though trying to throw you from the stair into the churning sea hundreds of feet below. You cleave hard to the block of ice, its chill on your cheek, as you make the slow descent.
Your fingers are thoroughly frozen by the time you reach the bottom, and stand on the rusted iron platform that marks the beginning of the Flotilla.
On the Quiet Sea
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| On the Quiet Sea | |
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| Category | Story Event |
| Type | Story |
| Data ID | 281082 |
On the Quiet Sea[]
The sea all around is shrouded in rolling mist. You can make out boats nearby, bobbing forlornly in the freezing water. Some are roped together, others set apart. Lights speckle the water; cultists still dwell in at least some of the old steamships.
This platform is deathly silent however. No one is here to greet you.
Interactions
| Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes |
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| Search for your Driver
A few cultists point to a crater in the ice, and a long trail leading deeper into the mists. The Driver is somewhere ahead.
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A Driver returned
You scour the wreckage of the Flotilla, and finding nothing, head away from the cults on the habitable ships, and strike out into the frigid reaches of the Quiet Sea.
Your crew carry lanterns aloft, which sends shadows skittering across the ice floes. Your voices are soon raw with shouting. And then, when you were on the verge of giving up — A familiar voice cries out. "Addressed As(CapitalInformal)! Over here. Afraid the engine's totalled. But I'm in one piece!" As the lantern light reveals the extent of the damage, you're forced to concede the Driver's assessment. Their grin is unmistakable even in the gloom.
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Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.
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| Leave an offering
The sea is peopled with the forgotten and the abandoned. It is customary to leave an offering at the Flotilla. For help; for hope; for home. Perhaps someone will come to collect it.
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An Offering at the Gate
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| Sit in contemplation
There is little else to do here.
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Hic sunt dracones
Why are you here? At the edge of the Horizon, on an all but empty flotilla. Far from the place where you were born, no way back. If you even wanted to return.
How many waited for the Gate to open? How many came through, unable to go further, unable to return. Where are they now? Are there any still there? You would need to fly to the Gate itself to find out. The water burbles. You see your face emerge in the sea below, visible through the mist. |
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| A voice in the mist
A figure in a soaked oilskin steps out of the mists. "We noted your sacrifice."
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 A Conversation with a Careful Masquerader
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| A voice in the mists
A figure in a hooded cloak steps out of the mists. "Your sacrifice was most perspicant!"
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A Conversation with a Jolly Anchorite
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| A voice in the mists
A figure in an antiquated frockcoat steps out of the mist. "A fine evening to you. We were impressed with your offering."
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A Conversation with an Illuminated Archivist
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| Sacrifice hours to appease the Burrower Below
A half-mad skyfarer once told you that the Burrower devours time, and that the door at the Avid Horizon was sacred to her.
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Appeased
You pour barrel after barrel of hours into the sea at the statues feet. There is no sign that your offering is accepted. The sea does not tremble. The statues do not stir. You must simply hope that this was enough.
You row away, your little boat much lighter without its lucrative cargo.
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| Approach the Gate
Once, thousands spilled through from the world you left behind. Now it is half-submerged and there have been no newcomers in more than a year. Your crew plead with you to stay.
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Failed event | ||
| On a Sunless Sea
Two vast winged shapes guard a gate of something like resin, smooth but uneven. It is deep gant – the colour that remains when all other colours have been eaten. Ice crusts over the crack between its valves. You approach. Your breath freezes, falls tinkling from the air.
A merciless wind blows from everywhere to everywhere. It passes without effort through your bridge-coat, your flesh, your lungs. There is no way forward. Turn back.
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| Successful event | |||
| On a Sunless Sea
The air is still and frigid. Your teeth chatter. Ice floes drift by in the mists. The Gate is far from the flotilla. Your breath freezes in the air.
A little craft loosely moored to the rest appears serviceable. Oars nest in the berth. You cut the rope and jump in, pushing out into the mist. The Gate rises like a sepulchre. Its statues – twin cowled figures – raise their wings in an arch. The Gate between the statues is gant, the colour that remains when all other colours are devoured. It is sealed, sarcophagus-tight. When you touch it, it sears your fingers with the bitterest cold. It will not open for you. This is the end of the sky. You can go no further. | |||
| Search for the 'Displeased'
The Parson asked you to meet with them, to encourage them to join him at Worlebury.
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On a Sunless Sea
There's nothing here save for the cold and the teethed wind, tracing fingers down your spine. No one is nearby.
If you're going to talk to the Displeased, you'll need to go further. You'll need to find the acolytes here and gain their favour before you'll be able to persuade them to travel. Game note: If you have not yet encountered the acolytes who reside here, leave an offering to convince them of your piety. You will need to be embraced by the Displeased before you can speak of this subject. |
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| Return to the Flotilla
Lights in the mist suggest the various mystics have returned from their contemplations.
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Aboard the Flotilla
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Advanced query needs investigation
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| Depart
What is there here for you?
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