Part 27: Dissolution

Journal entry 26 – Dissolution

From the Journal of Captain Petra Blackwood,

August 1st, 1888




London has brought with it a welcome, if short, respite. I've had my crew load a cart with a massive pile of unusual items to bring to the Department of Marine Acquisitions. The Alarming Scholar's eyes almost popped out of her (his?) head when I put them all on display – Most of them are artifacts from Varchas, but there are other treasures buried within. In any case, I came away with quite a price for it all.



On my way to go drop off my port reports, I passed a strange man asking about blemmigans. It seems he'd take them off my hands... But London is no real home for a blemmigan, to be paraded about on a leash and taught to repeat dirty limericks on command. I'll find them real homes.



With the money from the Admiralty and Marine Acquisitions, I'm quite wealthy. I could buy myself a manor, if I wanted... But I don't. I have something else in mind. If I'm going to hunt down a legend, I'm going to need something bigger than a corvette.



And now I have it.

I set my crew on getting the ship prepared properly, and I got to spend a nice night with my family.




The next morning, over breakfast, my son announced that he wanted to go to zee. The Dapper Chap thought he was joking, but he seemed quite serious about it. I took him aside and asked him some very serious questions.



He seemed genuine. And I've heard a younger folks setting out... Hell, I have one aboard myself. But I wasn't about to let him go somewhere dangerous. I found a captain I knew, who runs safe trips from London to the Colonies, and signed the little whelp up.

I'll miss him, in a way. I hope he isn't eaten by bats.

With all that delt with, it was time to depart once more. The crew had prepared my frigate to depart. Our hold is full, both with supplies and fuel and everything the coral needs. We'll soon see this to the end.



August 2nd, 1888



We've arrived at Venderbight; The crew are starting to get used to this place. Most of them leave the ship now when we dock, and enjoy a little time without the deck rocking under them.



Near the docks, a man approached me, and asked to join my crew. He called himself Gugs, and seemed salty enough. The new ship has many empty berths, and so I permitted him to come aboard.



As we made our preparations for departure, I released one of the blemmigans down the gangplank. There's plenty of places here for a little mushroom to live.



Perhaps too many, really, but I'm sure it'll all work out in the end.

Omitting an encounter with a Lifeburg

August 4th, 1888



We paid a short visit to Wither today. Mostly just long enough to collect information about the port to submit to the Admiralty.



While exploring, I came across a familiar stand selling familiar meats. A fantastic lunch.



Upon returning to the ship, I offered my last Blemmigan a chance to make a home here; it didn't appreciate the offer, the little scamp. In any case, there was nothing more to be done there for now – but leaving would not be so simple.



A lifeburg spotted us as we departed.



While powerful, the weight of the frigate makes it turn and accelerate slowly. We aren't able to outpace things quite as easily as we were before, and the lifeburg simply got too close. Fortunately, we can handle a few hits from these things, now.



As the Lifeburg sunk, I heard someone mutter that this was Gug's fault, somehow. He'd apperently set up a shrine to Salt in the hold.




I wasn't going to buy into something like that, of course. If Salt exists, I don't think it has anything to do with lifeburgs. I set the matter clear among the crew.

Hey, it looks like the most recent patch added a time delay to 'Your new crewman has a shrine to Salt'! That's pretty cool.




Once we pulled apart what was left of the Lifeburg, we discovered the remains of another ship – someone who must have been leaving Mt. Palmerstone, based on the contents of the casks we discovered. The discovery of the Zzoup is fortuitous, since our cook hasn't been willing to let up for a moment about it.





While he made amazing new culinary leaps with it, he seems to need something from Khan's Heart. Dangerous. But given the kinds of dinner he's provided for us in these months at zee, I don't know how I could refuse him.

August 9th. 1888



I arrived at Port Cecil early in the morning. Fortunately, I don't think the person I will be calling on sleeps late.





I gave the coral-mind the last two pieces it required. The secrets it tells me make little sense; I feel like I am getting only small glimpses into a much larger puzzle. Perhaps someday, it will all make sense.




As we prepared for the last game, I could see the Rubbery man was terrified. He may have been made this thing's emissary, but he was not a willing participant in the grave-pact he'd entered, it seemed.

Normally, I'd take a vote from the thread here. But I'm going to level with you all – The rewards for throwing this match do not, in any way, make up for winning it. In particular, you get a item that is incredibly helpful in combat, and there's no real other way to get it without getting very lucky. We're going to need it for Mt. Nomad. So we're winning the match.




There was, however, no real way out – not for him or for me. I'd come this far, and wasn't going to let a squid putting on puppy-dog eyes deny me my prize. And it was worth it, so very worth it; I've returned to the ship with a cartful of Scintillack and a new decoration.




August 11th, 1888



We've arrived in Khan's Heart, and before I could even finish preparations to disembark the Poissonnier was asking me for assistance.




He needed a small handful of drowning-pearls to go about his business here. I let him have them, of course – I trusted him to not throw us to the White-and-Golds, and otherwise keep himself out of trouble.



While he was gone, I had a chance to enjoy a little bit of the local music.



When he returned, he seemed... Different. I wonder what he did out there – it certainly wasn't 'get a cookbook', but I had never really thought that was what he was here for. In any case, he claims he is prepared to create a feast unlike anything anyone has ever seen – All he needs is a fluke-core, or some kind of avian poet.

Well, I know where to find one of those things, at least.

Shortly after departing, we stopped in at Khan's Shadow, in order to pick up some supplies. Fuel and food, for our trip back to London. While I was there, I realized that there might just be enough dark and wet here to support a few mushrooms.




Hopefully they'll find it a welcoming home.

Omitting regular visits to Shepard's Wash, Gaider's Mourn, and a short stop at London.

August 15th, 1888



We've returned to the tomb-colonies; my coffer is nearly empty, and I have something that I think will be of interest to the Last Curator. His generosity should be enough to propel us on another voyage.






I was right. Although the Scintillack burned it, it seemed happy with the exchange. I'll be returning promptly to London, and outfitting us for another, farther expedition – We have much to do still. Much to do.

Okay goons, voting time – This is probably going to be Petra's last ship, and it'll take us through to the endgame. What's its name?