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| The Thing in the Mist | |
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| Category | Random Event |
| Type | Random |
| Data ID | 303919 |
The Thing in the Mist is a Sunless Skies Random Event.
Story description[]
A sudden jolt. "I think we hit something, Addressed As(SpeechFormal)," your driver observes.
The mists are thick. You could turn back, and search for it?
Trigger conditions[]
Terror ≥ 60 ≤ 89,
Location: The High Wilderness
Area: The Sky
Frequency: High Terror (100%)
Interactions[]
| Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| Keep going
Only forward.
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Blissful ignorance
Better not to know. Whatever treasure, horror, or debris wandered into your path, you will leave it to the mists.
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| Double back
It would use up fuel. There might be danger. But perhaps whatever you hit was valuable. Or perhaps it needs help.
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Failed event | |
| No luck
The impact hasn’t damaged your engine, but a stoker was badly burned when it threw them against the fire-grate. Your search of the mists yields nothing. Whatever it was you hit has moved on.
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| Rare failed event (50%) | |||
| An altercation
You scout the mists. Suddenly, your locomotive shudders under another impact, this time from below. There is a thunderous roar. Whatever it was you hit, it is big, aggressive and offended. “An aeginae!” your driver cries, as they reverse course, frantically.
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| Successful event | |||
| A Caged Catch
Searching the mists you discover a sinuous, many-winged creature of the skies, still stunned from its impact with your engine. Your crew tie and cage it.
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| Double back
It would use up fuel. There might be danger. But perhaps whatever you hit was valuable. Or perhaps it needs help.
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Failed event | Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.
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| Damage
You scour the mists. Abruptly, the wind picks up, throwing a hail of debris into your path. The ruin of an unfortunate locomotive thunders against your hull like a shotgun blast. You are forced to return, empty-handed and battered, to your original course.
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| Rare failed event (50%) | |||
| A fruitless search
You scout the mists, but find only debris from a ruined locomotive. Nothing that remains is intact enough to salvage. You return to your course, before whatever caused this returns.
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| Successful event | |||
| A fortuitous find
Retracing your course you find a scattering of locomotive debris and an intact crate spinning in the wind. You drag it aboard, and discover it is filled with tea. Thank heaven it was unharmed. That could have been a disaster.
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| Offer whatever it was to the Burrower Below
The Burrower once tunnelled paths through the sky. She is always hungry.
Game note: Reduce Terror by 50, but increase your Nightmares. |
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Failed event | |
| Capricious
"Trust no gifts," a superstitions stoker once remarked. "If a thing crosses your path, offer it up."
On this occasion, though, maybe the offering was not to the god's taste. Later that day you glimpse leviathan shapes, moving through the fog.
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| Successful event | |||
| Accepted
A watchful rite. A sleepless vigil; a promise made; a mouthful of roots, chewed and spat out.
Is it a comfort, to know you are not alone? To be watched by one of the capricious gods of the turning sky? Their attention can draw other, unwelcome things.
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| Offer whatever it was to the Waste-Waif
The Waste-Waif occupies abandoned places. It is lonely, but spurns company. It likes toys.
Game note: Reduce Terror by 50, but increase your Nightmares. |
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Failed event | |
| Capricious
"Trust no gifts," a superstitions stoker once remarked. "If a thing crosses your path, offer it up."
On this occasion, though, maybe the offering was not to the god's taste. You glimpse leviathan shapes, moving through the fog.
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| Successful event | |||
| Accepted
A simple rite. Open windows; shivered words; a wind, welcomed in.
Is it a comfort, to know you are not alone? To be watched by one of the capricious gods of the turning sky? Their attention can draw other, unwelcome things.
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| Offer whatever it was to the Storm that Speaks
The Storm that Speaks rages in the night. It covets that which has passed.
Game note: Reduce Terror by 50, but increase your Nightmares. |
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Failed event | |
| Capricious
"Trust no gifts," a superstitions stoker once remarked. "If a thing crosses your path, offer it up."
On this occasion, though, maybe the offering was not to the god's taste. You glimpse leviathan shapes, moving through the fog.
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| Successful event | |||
| Accepted
A funereal rite. A quenched lamp; smoke in the dark; a quiet chorus of secrets.
Is it a comfort, to know that you are not alone? To be watched by one of the capricious gods of the turning sky? Their attention can draw other, unwelcome things.
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Links[]
Links In[]
Links Out[]
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