TRAVELLER RETURNING

(replace:?Sidebar)[]\ (track: 'trintro', 'play')\ (track: 'trintro', 'volume', 0.3)\ (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:2s)[$poem[$tangerine[//The year is 1906, and London has vanished for a second time.//]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(t8n-delay:3s)[First vanishing in a swarm of bats a half-century ago, the knowledge of that great city's new subterranean abode was an ill-kept secret. However, contact between the two worlds was scant, and to all but those in the upper echelons of power, London had left the stage of history much as it had left the surface: in an abrupt, but readily accepted end. But London still had a role to play in the Great Game of Europe. While its rivals scrambled to seize its vulnerable colonies, the former capital of the British Empire desperately sought to retain contact with its far-flung dominions. In this mad imperialistic dash, few above ground gave much pause to the new domain below their feet, and the opportunities therein. As the years passed, a new order began to arise from the chaos. The Cumean Canal, a kilometre spanning watergate bridged the two worlds, and through this, London rejoined the powers of Europe, acting as a new frontier of civilisation in the Underzee. That is, until it vanished, piece by piece, into oblivion. It has been four years since London ceased contact with the surface. The Canal, upon which marbled surface you now stand, has laid empty, the great construct of man and Master left to dissolve in the Mediterranean heat. You and your colleagues that mill upon the pier are to be the first souls to venture underwards since the closing of the gates, an international expedition sponsored by the Emperor himself, to restablish contact with the world below.] $linkrevealdelay[You are a [[TRAVELLER RETURNING.|prologue]]]

(enchant: ?Link, (t8n-depart: "blur")+(t8n-arrive:"dissolve")+(t8n-time:2s))\ (if: $plaintext is "Plaintext enabled")[(set: $tangerine to (font:'Roboto Slab')+(text-colour: #555555))(set: $bethellen to (font:'Roboto Slab')+(text-colour: #555555))]\ (else-if: $plaintext is "Plaintext disabled")[(set: $tangerine to (font:'Tangerine')+(text-colour: #555555))(set: $bethellen to (font:'Beth Ellen')+(text-colour: #555555))]\ (track: 'trwriter2', 'volume', 0.75)\ (track: 'trwriter', 'volume', 0.75)

(track: 'trbeach', 'play')\ (track: 'trbeach', 'volume', 0.3)\ $poem[$tangerine[//Autumn has come to Sicily, you can feel the evening wind begin to pick up, scattering falling leaves onto the lake. A season for departures.//]] You stand at the edge of the Avernus lake, the first lock of the canal just visible as a dark smudge on the rivercrest. Behind you, rusting warehouses play host to the expedition while steamboats bank lazily on the piers, with the final materials for the venture being carted onto proper Neathships. Departure is planned within the hour, but even so preparations are still underway. For your part, a final perfunctory inspection of supplies is required before you rejoin your colleagues at staging ground. [[Inspect the supplies|surfacesupplies]] ──────── [[Return to the staging ground|surfacestaging]]

$poem[$tangerine[//Neathworthy vessels are built different to their surface counterparts, and are less capable of handling rough conditions. Thankfully the stillness of the lake is a close match to the silent waves of the zee.//]] (set: $sawcomputer to true)\ You walk across the sturdy gangplank onto the ship. Below, the last of the cargo is being stored: coal, rations, munitions; the lifeblood of any expedition. Cooped in a smaller corner are the more academic contents: astrolabes, a phonograph and a top of the line Autochrome camera, courtesy of the Royale Académie. At the far end, a curious bulky cabinet sat wedged against a bulkhead, ponderous wires stretching out from it across the hold. Is that a faint hum emanating from it? Everything is present and accounted for. The captain would have checked the manifest regardless, but you aren't leaving anything to chance, not today. [[No more tarrying, to the staging ground.|surfacestaging]]

$poem[$tangerine[//Mothballed Steamtramps line the edges of the warehouses, A Daimler ferries the heavier cargo towards the piers, bound for the support ships that will follow your trail.//]] The rest of the expedition has congregated in a barren patch a short ways off from the warehouses. A small podium has been erected, but lays bare. Aside from the various attendees and shipmates that intersperse the area, three groups mingle in anticipation. (if: $surfacetalk is 0)[$linkreveal[The groups have arranged themselves into their respective cliques. Already, the thin veneer of mutual cooperation is wearing thin, and while the facade remains for now, it's likely that the factiona lines will only become more pronounced down below. ]]\ (if: $surfacetalk is 1)[$linkreveal[The civility of the factions is beginning to break down as the wait continues. The Imperialists have taken to lightly ribbing the high-strung representatives from the Bloc, who's thinly stretched attempt at restraint is the only thing causing the whole expedition to collapse before it starts. The Commonwealthers are stearing clear, but are clearly worried about the French throwing their weight around.]]\ (if: $surfacetalk is 2)[$linkreveal[Your introductions are cut short by a low-level murmur spreading through the assembly. the personal conversations and barbed jabs begin to fall off in response to the approaching sound of fanfare. As the crowd falls silent, [[the Emperor's Orator takes the podium.|surfacespeech]]]]\ (if: $surfacetalk < 2)[(if: $surfacetalkempire is false)[[[ In the centre are the French contingent, well-dressed and better equipped, and nearly outnumbering their combined colleagues.|surfacetalkempire]] ────────] (if: $surfacetalkbloc is false)[[[The Central Bloc conspire amongst themselves in the centre of the assembly, less regal in apperance, but armed to the teeth.|surfacetalkbloc]] ────────] (if: $surfacetalkcommonwealth is false)[[[To the sides of the crowd are a few representatives of the Commonwealth, islands of Britishness in the sea of European exceptionalism.|surfacetalkcommonwealth]]]]

$poem[$tangerine[//Why does this shrouded face and false-voice seem so $blur[familiar?] The thought lodges in the corner of your mind like a stranger's memory.//]] The crowd quiets instantly as the Orator opens his mouth to speak; a moment later, the Emperor's voice echoes out across the grounds. //'May he endure as long as the sun, The Emperor bids both subject and fellow-worker good tidings and safe journeys on this momentous expedition. While the path that lays before you may be perilous, May an abundance of peace follow your steps, and may the fruits of this journey shower our kingdom. You are the labourers of a great work, ''travaillers'' in consort with his will, and will be raised up in recognition as a presence of light, returning civilisation to the darkness below.'// $fancy['Qu'il règne d'une mer à l'autre, des rivières au bout de la terre.'] As the voice dies out, a silence fills the courtyard, The Subterranean Minister awkwardly takes the podium, thanking the Orator before addressing the crowd: 'The Expedition shall depart from the Cumean Canal, venturing below the surface and through the Albertine Locks, making first grounds at the Cumean Staging area. Once a base camp is secured, you as the advance party will make contact with the people of the Underzee, ascertain information regarding the current state of the region, and alleviate any potential obstacles to permanent contact. The crews of the //Rising Pearl//, the //Homecoming//, and the //Last Gift//, will make up the advance party, with the //Homecoming// taking first position. {(link-repeat: "Leading this expedition will be the First Captain,")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[$bethellen[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*An icy-faced woman standing a half head taller than the surrounding crew.]]]] in consultation with the (link-repeat: "First Mate,")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[$bethellen[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*he stands at the back of the crowd dressed in a formal suit, giving an almost-imperceptible nod.]]]] with the (link-repeat: "Imperial Emissary acting and informing on the interests of the throne.'")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[$bethellen[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*He gestures to you with this final statement, a few surrounding crew look to your direction, but are far more interested in the choice of captain.]]]] Murmurs begin to fill the silence before the Minister returns to his speech, 'Terms of payment have already been concluded, but the throne retains the right to intervene in profitable ventures concluded whilst in employ. (link-repeat: "Any treasonous behaviour will be punished severely,")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[$bethellen[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*he spares a glance at the muttering members of the Central Bloc.]]]] as a spirit of cooperation is integral to the fruition of our efforts. All things well, the expedition will conclude in six months hence, and all remaining crew will receive special dispensation in proportion to their contribution and the overarching success of the mission. } God's light be with you gentleman, [[au revoir.|surfacedeparture]]' |footnote>[]

(set: $expeditionstate to 1)\ $poem[$tangerine[//Things are now in motion, all is movement. Departure is imminent.//]] And with that, the work begins in earnest. Saying your final goodbyes, you make your way to the loading docks. The //Last Gift// is already embarked, it's massive rear armament precipitating the need for a head start. The //Pearl// lies similarly low in the water, laden with the lion's share of the expeditions supplies. Only the //Homecoming// is still berthed, waiting for its last passengers. You join the crew milling about the deck of the ship. Your belongings are already stowed, and the ship leaves port smoothly, taking point between her sisters towards the first lock. You'll have very little to do until the canal is reached, so you might as well enjoy this last moment of calm. (link: "Look behind you")[$linkreveal[Joining the crew at the bow, you watch the monolithic gates slowly rise into view. As the sun begins to fall behind you, the basalt-steel pillars begin to take on a reddish hue, then the shadow of the first locks cast over you, and the air is filled with the sound of creaking metal and rushing water.]] ───────── (link: "Look ahead")[$linkreveal[Deciding to leave the crowd, you make your way to the stern. Only a few sailors are gathered here: the ones leaving something behind. Are you one of them? The hair on the back of your neck pricks up as you feel the shadow of the first locks overtake your ship. The sun begins to set beyond the Mediterranean, and gives a final flash before leaving the horizon.]] $passage[On this side of the canal, the first gate is still operable, and by some unseen signal, the first locks begin to push open, a steady stream of water beginning to hurtle [[through the gap.|canalupper]]]

(if: $canaltalk is 0)[(track: 'trintro', 'fadeout', 5) (track: 'trbeach', 'stop') (track: 'trcanal', 'play')]\ $poem[$tangerine[//The first seal has been broken. Excelsior.//]] Inside, the canal is almost pitch black, the surface light slowly receding till the ship is enveloped in darkness. At the captain's orders, lanterns light up across the bow, an eerie-blow colour that isn't quite bright enough to pierce the inky waters below. What was a sizable entrance begins to narrow, and the three ships now sail abreast, lantern-light reflecting off the unnatural contours of the cavern walls. (if: $canaltalk is 0)[$linkreveal[ The space between the intervening locks starts off quite regularly, each mile roughly corresponding to a new gate. Soon however, twists and turns begin to confuse the count, and the gates turn from featureless steel to inlaid obsidian, their otherworldly features rendered almost completely smooth by the lapping waves.]]\ (if: $canaltalk is 1)[$linkreveal[ By the 8th hour mark, the canal has narrowed once again, The //Pearl// and //Homecoming// sail side by side, with the //Gift// trailing behind. The darkness, at first so imposing, has become almost bearable, and an uneasy calm has settled on the expedition. Below, the waters look almost clear, with the canal floor within arms reach, despite what must be a fathom to the bottom of the canalbed.]]\ (if: $canaltalk is 2)[$linkreveal[ Suddenly, a massive lurch rocks the bow, and the ship begins to careen rapidly, jostling violently against her sister. An imbalance in the lock levels forces the water through the gap, and your ships along with it, crashing into both the walls and one another. A crewmate has fallen overboard, and is already being sucked under the waters behind you. This madpace careening stops as suddenly as it started, with the ship evening as it slowly settles past the faulty gate [[into the next chamber.|canallower]]]]\ (if: $canaltalk < 2)[ (if: $canaltalkcrew is false)[[[Spend time with the crew|canaltalkcrew]] ────────] (if: $canaltalkcaptain is false)[[[Talk to the Captain|canaltalkcaptain]] ────────] (if: $canaltalkfirstmate is false)[[[Explore the ship|canaltalkfirstmate]]] ]

$poem[$tangerine[//Dizziness, seasickness, and claustrophobia all compete to turn your stomach over backwards, the canal is not for the faint-hearted.//]] You've returned to the bow after a short break, in which the eerie rocking movement of the ship utterly failed to grant you a rest. It's nearing the 14th hour, and much is the same. Accustomed the darkness by now, you can begin to make out abstract, forlorn shapes in the waters, skillfully avoided by the flotilla, now travelling in single file formation. At first it appears to be unhewn stone, leftovers from the Canal's great construction. upon closer inspection, however, the objects are clearly man-made. Beached and scuttled vessels clutter the passage, the last memories of neath-trade between the two seas. Most of the ships have begun to degrade, abandoned by despairing sailors who traveled the canal only to find the gates unmoveably closed. Some look younger, perhaps sent by earlier, independent expeditions. Regardless, the hulks mark the final leg of your journey, and it is not long before you reach the Albertine Gate, the gatekeeper to the Neath, forever shut to the surface. [[Until now.|canalexit]]

$poem[$tangerine[//If you've come this far...//]] Before you stands the Albertine Gate, the final breaker before the Unterzee proper. Even now, after years of neglect, it remains breathtaking in scope. wider than five battleships abreast. There is no knowledge of how the Bazaar completed such a feat of engineering, and much like its construction, the control of such a gate is a mystery. The Captain signals formation, and your ship berths to the side, letting //The Last Gift// take point. as you watch, a giant tarpulin concealing the aft of the ship is pulled aside, revealing the key to entry: A 155mm Howitzer, courtesy of the Imperial Army. What eldritch mystery had wrought, powder and steel would make undone. The order is given to brace, and the crew holds steady, one man lashing himself to the gunwale. In the moments silence, you wonder just how effective such a brute device would be against the gargantuan walls, then the fuse is lit, and $fade[[the gift is delivered.|cumeanstaging]]

(track: 'trcanal', 'fadeout', 5) (track: 'trringing', 'play')\ (track: 'trringing', 'volume', 0.5)\ (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-delay:5s)["At first, there is nothing, only a blinding encapsulation of sound and light..."] (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-delay:7s)["Then, the forms of the earth begin to regain shape, indistinct outlines that might be reality... "] (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-delay:12s)["Light and sound disentangle themselves, your other senses return timidly, you can taste blood in your mouth, a wetness in your ear..."] (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-delay:15s)[$fade["[[Slowly, hesitantly, you come to your senses...|cumeanstaging2]]"]]

$poem[$tangerine[//What great and terrible power mankind can bring to bear! Pray this remains exceptional.//]] The gate has been breached, that much is certain. Surveying the damage you realise that what you thought was the first volley was actually a sustained firing, with distinct separate pockmarks along the center parting of the gate. Despite the sheer magnitude of force pressed against it, the damage to the gate is minor, and the volley has only succeeded in making a small breach rather than forcing the lock open. A commotion to the port side draws your attention away, the //Last Gift// has begun to take water, listing to one side as the crew abandons ship. The firing of the massive artillery piece nearly shook the vessel apart, and per the orders of your captain, the expedition begins to take the evacuees onto the //Pearl//. The //Homecoming// takes the lead once more. Even with the breach it's a tight fit, and the auxillary trailers are pulled in to avoid getting caught in the jagged edges of the hole. Venturing through the gap, you feel a faint shiver run down your back as you pass under the sundered stone, before [[arriving definitively in the neath.|cumeanexit]]

trintro: ./audio/Castles.ogg trbeach: ./audio/beach.ogg trcanal: ./audio/canal.ogg trringing: ./audio/ringing.ogg trcumean: ./audio/cumean.ogg trwriter: ./audio/typewriter.ogg trwriter2: ./audio/typewriter2.ogg

(track: 'trcumean', 'play')\ $poem[$tangerine[//Welcome Home, such as it is...//]] In its day, the Cumean Staging Area eclipsed even the ports of the surface, alive at all hours with the flow of commerce. For thousands of eager visitors, the vast docking grounds were their first and last sight of the Neath. A true marriage of the industries of the above and below-worlds. Now, it lies in tattered ruins. The few permanent residences of the harbour authority have been scattered to pieces, the subject to a ferocious destructive spree that has torn up half the docking channels. in the midst of the rubble lies the remains of a vast tent-city, the fluttering remnants of which dot the piers to the edge of the southern periphery. Some of these must still be inhabited, for a small crowd has warily formed at the edge of the channel as the //Homecoming// [[pulls alongside to dock.|cumeanexit2]]

$poem[//A faded inscription runs atop the remains of a stately pillar, only the final portion, 'Mare Tenebris,' remains legible.//] As the Imperial Emissary, you are the third off the ship. The first is a crewmate to test the footing, followed by the captain, standing silently to the left of the gangplank. Before you stand the people of the Neath. They are a sobering sight. Sallow faces and withered bodies press against each other, loosely draped with the remnants of sailor's uniforms. Their skin is paleish green, and covered with bruises, whether from poor nutrition or a lack of sunlight is hard to tell. Your next words will be from the Emperor himself, the first Proclamation of Light in this darkness. Choose them carefully. //Address The Neath:// (link-reveal-goto: "As the Empire", "cumeanspeech")[(set: $empire to it +1)] || (link-reveal-goto: "As the Expedition", "cumeanspeech")[(set: $bloc to it +1)] || (link-reveal-goto: "As the Surface", "cumeanspeech")[(set: $commonwealth to it +1)]

trintro: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/Castles.ogg trbeach: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/beach.ogg trcanal: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/canal.ogg trringing: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/ringing.ogg trcumean: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/cumean.ogg trwriter: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/typewriter.ogg trwriter2: file:///D:/Documents/twine/TRAVELLER RETURNING/audio/typewriter2.ogg trintro: ./audio/Castles.ogg trbeach: ./audio/beach.ogg trcanal: ./audio/canal.ogg trringing: ./audio/ringing.ogg trcumean: ./audio/cumean.ogg trwriter: ./audio/typewriter.ogg trwriter2: ./audio/typewriter2.ogg

$poem[$tangerine[//You make this to be a small thing. It is. But even small gestures matter in the end.//]] You clear your throat, see the words to be spoken in your mind. Your mouth opens, and the voice speaks through you; $passage[//(if: $empire is 1)[To the people of the Neath, the empire greets you. Long have you toiled below, separated from the light of civilisation, but now, by the grace and foresight of the Emperor, you are once again rejoined with the world above. This port, once a vaunted symbol of mankind's mastery over the subterranean, will be reborne as the first underlands of the empire! As new subjects of the Sun throne, you too will join this great endeavour, and build with us better world below.]\ (if: $bloc is 1)[To the people of the Neath, the expedition greets you. Long have you toiled below, separated from the light of civilisation, but now, through the toil and strength of our brow, you are once again rejoined with the world above. This port, once a vaunted symbol of mankind's mastery over the subterranean, will be reborne as the first outpost of our expedition. As new members and protectorates you will be witness and co-worker in the great re-discovery of this world and its riches for the betterment of man.]\ (if: $commonwealth is 1)[To the people of the Neath, the people of the surface greet you. Long have you toiled below, separated from the light of civilisation, but now, by the common cause and will of man, you are once again rejoined with the world above. This port, once a vaunted symbol of mankind's mastery over the subterranean, will be reborne as a great meeting-place between our lands. Together with your help, humanity can be joined together once more in prosperity, and in harmony.]//] (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-delay:5s)[Suddenly, just as quickly as they were given to you, the words leave. You take an involuntary inhale, as if to fill your soul back with your own air. You compose yourself, [[and wait for the crowd's response|cumeanspeech2]]]

showControls: false

(unless: (passage:)'s tags contains "menu")[(set: $lastpass to (passage:)'s name)]\ (if: (passage:)'s tags contains "intro" or "menu")[(replace:?Sidebar)[]]\ (else:)[(replace:?Sidebar)[(icon-undo: )$status[$bethellen[(link-goto: "Journal", "status")]]]]

(set: $thoughtstate to (random: 1,5))\ (display: "thoughtstate") (link-reveal: "The State of the Neath:")[ (display: "neathstate")] ───────── (link-reveal: "The State of the Expedition:")[ (display: "expeditionstate")] ───────── (link: "Mark Your Progress")[(save-game:"A")$linkreveal[Progress marked]] (cycling-link: 2bind $plaintext, "Plaintext disabled", "Plaintext enabled") (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[$bethellen[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]]

(set: $poem to (css: "font-size: 40px;"))\ (set: $header to (css: "font-size: 80px;"))\ (set: $thought to (css: "font-size: 420px;"))\ (set: $status to (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:1.6s)+(hover-style:(text-color: #2f2f2f))+(css: "font-size: 15px;"))\ (set: $linkreveal2 to (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-delay:3s)+(t8n-time:1s)+(css: "font-size: 20px;"))\ (set: $linkreveal3 to (t8n: "blur")+(t8n-time:2s)+(css: "font-size: 20px;"))\ (set: $linkreveal to (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:2s))\ (unless: (passage:)'s tags contains "mute")[(either: "(track: 'trwriter', 'play')", "(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')")]\ (set: $linkrevealdelay to (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:1s)+(t8n-delay:5s))\ (set: $blur to (text-style: "blur"))\ (set: $fade to (text-style: "fade-in-out"))\ (set: $sway to (text-style: "sway"))\ (set: $fancy to (text-style: "emboss")+(text-style: "expand"))\ (set: $subheader to (text-style: "emboss")+(text-style: "expand")+(text-colour: #555555)+(text-size:2))\ (set: $passage to (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(t8n-delay:7s))\ \ (set: $tangerine to (font:'Tangerine')+(text-colour: #555555))\ (set: $bethellen to (font:'Beth Ellen')+(text-colour: #555555))\

(if: $neathstate is 0)[$linkreveal["The Neath is unchanged and unchangable and unchanging. An opaque slate yet to to be illuminated."]]\ (if: $neathstate is 1)[$linkreveal["Somehow, somewhere, something has changed in the Neath."]]

(set: $neathstate to 0) (set: $expeditionstate to 0) (set: $empire to 0) (set: $bloc to 0) (set: $commonwealth to 0) (set: $canaltalk to 0) (set: $canaltalkcrew to false) (set: $canaltalkcaptain to false) (set: $canaltalkfirstmate to false) (set: $cumeantalk to 0) (set: $cumeantalkcrew to false) (set: $cumeantalkrefugees to false) (set: $cumeantalkharbourmaster to false) (set: $surfacetalk to 0) (set: $surfacetalkempire to false) (set: $surfacetalkbloc to false) (set: $surfacetalkcommonwealth to false)

(if: $expeditionstate is 0)[$linkreveal["The expedition has yet to depart."]]\ (if: $expeditionstate is 1)[$linkreveal["In these opening acts, the hope of empire rides high, as do the expectations upon yourself. Stand straight and maintain a steady course."]]

$tangerine[(if: $thoughtstate is 1)[$poem[//Collect your thoughts, re-evaluate.//]]\ (if: $thoughtstate is 2)[$poem[//The Neath can wait a moment.//]]\ (if: $thoughtstate is 3)[$poem[//Stop and consider, choices must be made.//]]\ (if: $thoughtstate is 4)[$poem[//Progress cannot be postponed indefinitely.//]]\ (if: $thoughtstate is 5)[$poem[//Even here, you are not alone.//]]]

$poem[$tangerine[//The False Voice speaks truths and lies with equal elegance. Mastering the art takes years, for you, mere weeks.//]] The response is a confused, muted murmur. Clearly they have no idea what you're talking about, most of them probably don't even speak french. After a short silence, a figure in a tattered harbour uniform steps forward, and coughs awkwardly. His voice is hoarse and whisper quiet, but he tries to speak above the silence as he greets you, '~Thank you... for your words. But...who are you? Are you the Royal Navy? ...Has London returned?~' His words are in English, not French, and while the False-Voice speaks in all tongues, it's possible he didn't understand a word you said. You switch languages, conveying the basic facts to the man; London is missing, the Expedition has returned to rediscover it, and it is the flag of //La Royale// that adorns the ships mast. This appears to dishturb the crowd quite deeply, and a low murmur begins to channel through the crowd. There's an ugly disquiet settling upon the meeting, and before he can speak again, A voice cries out from the crowd, {(link-repeat: "'~Expeditions and London be d*mned, have they got any food!?~`")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*Their people are in a bad shape. Most of them are emaciated and all look unwell. Their continued survival can only be attributed to the strange relationship the Neath has with death, and you get the feeling that if you were to roughly shake one of the men, he would simply crumble into flakes of pale flesh.]]]} This sentiment catches fire amongst the people. Curiousity is replaced with desire, and at that moment, the same thought entered the head of crew and crowd alike: //Will this become a battle?// The Expedition's armaments were loaded onto the //Last Gift,// and only a few members of your crew are carrying weapons. The Neathers, in comparison, are already armed with whatever rusted cutlasses and flintlocks they could muster, and while physically weaker, outnumber your crew sizably. The quiet turns to an uneasy shuffling, a shipmate beside you shifts their hand to their sidearm, and The Harbourmaster takes tentative steps backwards. You're about to say something to quell the growing tension when The First Captain steps in front of you and speaks to the crowd, (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(t8n-delay:6s)['All shall be well! [[And all manner of things shall be well.|cumeanspeech3]]] |footnote>[]

$poem[$tangerine[//Words have meaning beyond their mere appearances. You would do well to remember this.//]] Like a spell broken, the tension evaporates into thin air. The Neathers sag, whatever fell spirit that took them vanishing as quickly as it came. For their part, your crew visibly relax, relieved that their first contact with the underwold was to be resolved peaceably. The Captain looks at you pointedly; without a word, she takes the Harbourmaster aside, evidently having more confidence in her ability to explain the situation than yours. The crowd itself disperses, and your crew begin to disembark, setting up a preliminary base camp on the fire side of the harbour. Soon, you are left alone with the First Mate, whose neutral expression has not changed since the expedition began. He motions you aside, and you walk along the stone piers. 'An eventful start to our journey, but rest assured, things are still moving in acceptable motions. You played your part well, (if: $empire is 1)[(link-repeat: "and your speech was quite pleasing to the Emperor's ears, im sure.")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*Can he relay information that quickly? It's possible.]]]] (else:)[(link-repeat: "Though your words could have been more carefully chosen.")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*He says it casually enough, but the message, or threat, is clear.]]]] Of course, when the voice takes you, it can be hard to know just what will be said, but it is still pleasing to see your capability matches the importance of your position.' Your walk has taken you to the edge of the canal, beyond, the unnaturally still waters of the Neath stretch out beyond you, featureless until meeting the light-speckled roof on the horizon. The First Mate's eyes roam the visage as he speaks, 'Your true purpose on this journey is about to be made evident, though you've already had a small taste of the task ahead. I and others will attempt to provide assistance where we can, but the choices you make are to be yours alone. Do not be led down paths you cannot return from, and do not act lightly.' His formidable gaze locks on to yours, $fancy['Stay in the light, colleague,] that is the most singular piece of advice I can give you.' He is silent for a moment, then continues, [['now, let's see what our esteemed Captain has discovered.|cumeanharbourmaster]]' |footnote>[]

$poem[$tangerine[//Below, the role of ally and adversary may shift without warning. Keep them close regardless.//]] Returning to the main platform, you find the Captain waiting for you, the Harbourmaster, looking akin to a feeble child beside her, is hunched against the wall. Nodding to the two of you, she strides over, the Harbourmaster dolefully following. 'They have no knowledge of London. The ships stopped arriving a few weeks before the Canal closed, nobody knows why. We're the first ship they've seen in months, perhaps even a year. There's precious little for us here until the gates are properly opened, but we'll need to leave a base camp here to repair the port facilities once we move on.' Bad news by all accounts, it was hoped that there would be at least some base infrastructure and travel at the canal to build on, but it appears the port has beened abandoned to the zee. The captain continues, 'The land routes north have vanished, and according to the locals travelling by sea is a near-death sentence, some sort of beast or storm system in the area ever since the gates shut. But there are a few ports to the south we can head towards.' She unfurls a vague, scribbled map and shows it you. As you peer at the illegible markings, you realise just how in her element she is. The cold silence of the surface is gone, replaced with a hidden energy. She is genuinely excited about the venture, if still indifferent to its actual purpose. 'If we head straight south and hug the coast, we'll hit the [(link-repeat: "Iron Republic,")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*Some sort of devil-worshipping revolutionaries, according to reports.]]]] good for fueling but not a place to stay long. After that there should be a former Navy station to the southeast before we reach the Elder Continent.' The First mate nods in approval at this path, but the Captain has more to say. 'Elsewise, we can cut past the Republic entirely and head straight for the southeast, taking first landfall at Port Carnelian and following the coast till we reach the [(link-repeat: "Presbyterate.")[(replace: ?footnote)[$linkreveal3[(track: 'trwriter2', 'play')*An indigenous people and nation of the Neath, exceptionally long-lived, by most accounts.]]]] It's risky, but if anyone's still kicking down here, I'd bet it's the Presybters.' The captain finally looks up from the map, 'The choice is yours, Emissary. The crew will be ready to embark by the hour.' (link-reveal-goto: "Head South", "cumeanharbourmaster2")[(set: $direction to 'south')] ───────── (link-reveal-goto: "Head Southeast", "cumeanharbourmaster2")[(set: $direction to 'southeast')] |footnote>[]

$poem[$tangerine[//It is the role of the Emissary to move fate with their decisions. The will is the Emperor's, but the choice is yours.//]] (if: $cumeantalk is 0)[$linkreveal[For a moment, the captain looks at you, awaiting an explanation for your choice, but then she simply shrugs, furls the map, and begins the preparations for departure. The First mate nods curtly, and follows her to the ship. You are left with the Harbourmaster, who has not moved since your talks began. He watches you warily, unsure as to just what his new station and that of his people is.]]\ (if: $cumeantalk is 1)[$linkreveal[The Cumean refugees have begun to relax around the shore crew, exchanging awkward pleasantries where the language barrier can be breached. The Commonwealth members of the Expedition have found unlikely brothers, and have managed to develop an understanding with their new compatriots, while the Continentals remain at an arms length from the tattered figures.]]\ (if: $cumeantalk is 2)[$linkreveal[After hours of preparation, the remaining debris of the canal exit has been shifted to the side, and a temporary basecamp staffed by members of the //Gift// has been set up on the east pier, setting to work on widening the Gate's gap for reinforcements. sitting in the newly-cleared bay the //Homecoming// prepares for departure once more, awaiting only your boarding.]]\ (if: $cumeantalk < 2)[ (if: $cumeantalkharbourmaster is false)[[[Talk to the Harbourmaster|cumeantalkharbourmaster]] ────────] (if: $cumeantalkrefugees is false)[[[Speak with the refugees|cumeantalkrefugees]] ────────] (if: $cumeantalkcrew is false)[[[Check up on the //Pearl//|cumeantalkcrew]]]] (if: $cumeantalk is 2)[(link: "The time has come to leave")[$linkreveal[As you turn to leave, he grabs the coattails of your uniform in a pawing, almost pitiful manner. 'Please,' He pleads, 'We need food, please, before you leave us.' His manner is strange, less like a beggar and more as if he were holding back some great evil. 'We're so...peckish, we can't go on like this.' He is almost on his hands and knees in supplication, and yet, it feels almost like a threat, or premonition. As for supplies, your expedition has little to spare. It's unlikely that a resupply will occur soon, and it's even less doubtful that you'd gain anything from the poor man's request. $passage[(link-reveal-goto: "Give what you can", "cumeandepart")[(set: $refugees to 'helped')] ───────── (link-reveal-goto: "Give nothing", "cumeandepart")[(set: $refugees to 'ignored')]]]]]\

(set: $canaltalk to it +1)\ (set: $canaltalkcrew to true)\ The crew are in mostly high spirits. The excitement of the venture has yet to wear off, and while the current leg of the journey remains uneventful, the soon-to-be-zailors are sharing their predictions on what is to be found below the sun. "Cannibals," reckons the ship's cook. "They all went mad 'n 'et each other." "Naw," counters the bosun, "it was rats, giant subterranean rats everywhere." These and other fanciful notions are debated thoroughly between the crew, but most are purely imaginative conjecture. The only one that really sticks with you is the contribution of a rather quiet deckhand, "Maybe they've gone wherever all the people who were there before went, the cities 'n such. 'N maybe the whole place is waiting for someone else to come down next." That'd be you, then. Something to keep in mind. (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

$poem[$tangerine[//Empathy is a rare trait in the Neath now. There is little room for kindness in the dark.//]] (if: $refugees is 'helped')[His thanks is profuse, if mostly incomprehensible. He continues to shower you with his humble praise as you make you way back to the //Pearl,// Directing an offload of crates to be given to the refugees. It won't be long before the Captain hears of this, but for now the deed is done.] (if: $refugees is 'ignored')[He takes your refusal like a blow to the chest, and watches you silently as you make your back to your ship.] After a few hours, the preparations are finished. A reserve contingent of former crew from the //Gift// will remain at base, while you take the lead in the Expedition's search. The //Pearl,// meanwhile, will head east, circling in a perimeter around the canal to spot out potential closer ports. There is no fanfare on this departure, and as you drift from the piers of the Canal, the raised flag of the Expedition, waving limply in the zee-breeze, is the only marker for your presence on that desolate slab of concrete and stone. Beyond, the zee beckons. Dark and full of mystery. The //Pearl// breaks off as you head southwards, bats fly overhead. $fancy[[[Finally, your journey has begun.|chapterone]]]

(t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:2s)[$poem[//Chapter One//]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(t8n-delay:3s)[$fancy[The Elder Continent]] (after: 6s,)[=(t8n-time:2s)(goto: "endofcontent")

(replace:?Sidebar)[]\ (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:2s)[$header[$bethellen[//Prologue//]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)+(t8n-delay:3s)[$subheader[[[An Afternoon in Sicily|surface1]]]] (after: 6s,)[=(t8n-time:2s)(goto: "surface1")

(t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:3s)[The following is a fan work.] (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:5s)+(t8n-delay:2s)[Fallen London, Sunless Sea, and all related concepts are the property of Failbetter games.] (t8n: "dissolve")+(t8n-time:5s)+(t8n-delay:3.5s)[Some content may not be appropriate for all readers, discretion is advised.] (after: 6.5s,)[=(t8n-time:2s)(goto: "Traveller Returning")

(set: $canaltalk to it +1)\ (set: $canaltalkcaptain to true)\ \ The bridge of the //Homecoming// is rather crowded. The Captain, seeing your arrival, dismisses the navigation officer to make room and greets you with a quick jut of her head before returning to her watch. She's clearly not interested in smalltalk, and while she's never impolite, she answers your questions with the smallest amount of effort, only replying with a simple 'yes' or 'no,' or a short 'mm' no matter the topic. You've run out of good openers, and the silence between the two of you is beginning to get awkward, you're about to take your leave when she clears her throat, "Been fifteen years." You wait for her to continue, "Since I last made the trip down, I mean. I did supply runs between topside and the northern outposts. Trinkets, supplies, honey." Another long pause is filled only by the reverberating sound of water on the caver walls. "Wasn't many people who could take the surface. Sun does something to you, after a while." She seems to breathe more easily the more she talks. "Better down here, less glare." That might have been a joke, but you're not entirely sure. You wait a few more minutes to see if there's anything forthcoming, but the Captain has lapsed back into silence. At any rate, her story explains why she was given the captaincy, not many people on the surface have experience with the Neath, so you're at least a little reassured about her credentials. As you turn to leave, the Captain gives one final remark, "This is the simple part, remember that. Down below, things become... different." And with that you bid her adieu. (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

(set: $canaltalk to it +1)\ (set: $canaltalkfirstmate to true)\ \ There's not much of the ship you haven't seen, but you're still in the dark about some of the cargo that's been loaded. Making your way below decks, you find the cargo hold to be packed mostly with the bland essentials: fuel, rations, repair supplies, and the occasional rat. But what intrigues you most is the strange, flickering object in the far corner(if: $sawcomputer is true)[ that you noticed before departure]. The lights appear to be coming from some diodes attached across the rectangular bulk; beside them, the an arrangement of small levers and tiny buttons are placed almost haphazardly across the face of the device. "A fascinating machine, to be sure." The voice startles you out of your observations. Behind you, the First Mate stands, his face briefly eliminated by the flickering lights of the device. "I'm told that this a one-of-a-kind machine, though I'm sure that's exaggeration. Were you looking for something in particular down here Emissary?" You ask how he knows about the device. "Why, it was on the ship manifest, of course. A collaborative gift, I believe, from our Anglais friends." He cracks a thin smile, "Don't feel like you have to concern yourself with the minutiae of our mission, you'll find that there's designs upon designs on a trip like this. It's far more important that you focus on your chief duties as our executive than to trifle with the scientific whims that the Academie has foistered upon us." He seems genuinely unconcerned with the whole situation, though it's hard to tell given his rather expressionless face. You decide to take his advice, and return to above decks. As you leave, out of the corner of your eye you see the First Mate cassually flick on the levers on the machine down. (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

(set: $cumeantalk to it +1)\ (set: $canaltalkharbourmaster to true)\ Alone, the conversation is still just as hesistant. You wonder what exactly the Captain told him, how much he knows about the world above, and how it's changed. He's uninterested in the surface, for the most part. He asks only how the colonies fair, telling you he had family in Pacific dominions. You speak briefly on the creation of the Commonwealth, its partnership with the British Remnant and its involvement in the Expedition, which appears to cheer him at least somewhat. You leave out the wars that ravaged the colonies, as the ascendant Empires snatched the unprotected colonies from under the British, and the harsh rebalancing of power that followed. Imperialism has thrived on the surface, and it is likely that what remains Commonwealth will be the first casualty in the next great contest of power. (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

(set: $cumeantalk to it +1)\ (set: $canaltalkcrew to true)\ As first impressions of the glorious Underzee go, the crew's verdict is mixed. An Anglais crewmate is wistful, "To think, we had a whole bloody empire down here, right under our noses while we got shafted topside." The continentals are concerned, "Bodes ill, that they were down here for decades and still fell apart, what's that mean for our chances?" muses the Bosun. The more patriotic members, perhaps goaded by the First Mate and chances of quick promotion, are quick to quash doubts. "Look at these sad stooges! If that's the only competition down here, we'll be raising the Tricolore before winter!... Or whatever counts for winter in this bogwater cavern." At least morale has been maintained, and now that there's something more to see than a gigantic tunnel, some of the less invested crew are beginning to look a bit sharper. As long as this doesn't translate to mania, things should be ok. (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

(set: $cumeantalk to it +1)\ (set: $canaltalkrefugees to true)\ There's little amongst the refugees that stands out. Time and isolation have homogenized any outliers, leaving the group to share the same faded drabs of clothing, the same thin, lined face, and the same hungry, lidded gaze. While most of them have resigned themselves to their fate, a few still hold out on hope, and a half dozen carefully maintained dinghys line the westward pier, the last chance at deliverance bobbing gently in the waves. A young man, or at least, younger, explains how he arrived at the gateway to nowhere. "~Was a deckhand on the //Elutheria,// 'bout one year back. Got ambushed by Khanate trireme 'n I jumped before they could board us. Floated on a plank for two days before I ended up at the Cumean. The currents, they all come back to here nowadays.~" It seems like the canal has become a sort of marooner colony since the gates closed. While the bulk of the group have been stranded for years, the occasional drifter, exile, or banished soul has joined their ranks, indicating at least some contact with the greater Neath. The refugees have little else to offer you, best that you leave them to their expert misery. (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

Thanks for playing, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think, and if you have any suggestions or critiques feel free to tell me. Till next time! $fancy[-Skip]

(set: $surfacetalk to it +1)\ (set: $surfacetalkcommonwealth to true)\ \ $linkreveal[The Veteran Diplomat greets you with a wan smile, her few colleagues watching you with hopeful interest. 'It wasn't so long ago that these grounds would have been packed, I remember having to wait weeks for passage on my trip below.' Unlike most gathered, the Diplomat had visited London before it's untimely disappearance. 'On official business, and not for long mind you, but the experience stays with you.' She shares a few tales of her time in the Neath, giant angler-crabs off the starboard bow, the glim-lights of the cavern-roof. It mostly sounds like pure fable, but you'll see for yourself soon enough. As you take your leave, she makes a final request of you, 'If you do find London, wherever she may have gone, please, let them know that Britain has not forgotten them, may their sun never set.'] $linkreveal2[$bethellen[*The Commonwealth is eager for news of London, but there is perhaps more in the Neath that will pique their interest.]] (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

(set: $surfacetalk to it +1)\ (set: $surfacetalkempire to true)\ \ $linkreveal[The Minister of Subterranean Affairs manages to steal you away from the congegration for a moment, drawing you into the whirlwind of civil servants orbiting his periphery. He congratulates you most airily on your special appointment, 'An honour to be sure, but this is no cruise, //tu comprends?// The emperor expects many good things of this venture, not the least of which is a return on investment.' The minister also takes the time to introduce you to the first mate, a silent fellow, handpicked just as you were to accompany the captain on this voyage. 'They'll keep you well-informed if anything //pertinente// to our interests crops up along your journey. Now off you go, //bon voyage// fair traveller!] $linkreveal2[$bethellen[*France has provided the funding and impetus for this voyage, they will expect a profitable venture from your findings below, amongst other things.]] (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]

(set: $surfacetalk to it +1)\ (set: $surfacetalkbloc to true)\ \ $linkreveal[The Prussian Attache heads the Central Bloc's leadership, whether by consent or coercion is unclear. He introduces you briskly to the other members of the committee: The Italian Financier, The Turkish Envoy, and the Austrian Baron all warmly greet you as one would a fellow co-conspirator in some grand scheme. The Prussian pulls you back and begins to insinuate various treasons in his favour, 'Anything that will get the advantage on those thrice-damned Franks will be handsomely rewarded.' evidently the Bloc's participation is one of competition than cooperation. He leaves you with a final initiation, 'There's one of ours awaiting you below. Don't look for them, they'll find you, //Gottes Licht sei mit dir.//'] $linkreveal2[$bethellen[*The Central Bloc is determined to undermine French hegemony, both in this realm and below.]] (enchant: ?Link,(t8n-depart: "instant"))\ $status[(link-goto: "Return", $lastpass)]