Wellmouth

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Wellmouth
Whitewell ambience.png
Wellmouth (Sidebar)
Located in the Blue Kingdom
Ports Wellmouth
Shops None

Wellmouth is a platform of the Blue Kingdom. It is across from The White Well.

Guide[edit | edit source]

Captains of any status can interact with the Judas Psalmists.

Captains must be Antedeceased to Seek Matronly Approval.  This costs 1 Selection of Immaculate Souls.

Approved captains can Sweep the Well to change their status from Antedeceased to Yoked.

Log Entries[edit | edit source]

Here, a prison of the Blue Kingdom, reserved for punishment of the erroneous dead.
The White Well, where the guilty are condemned.
Winds claw your engine. The White Well is near.

Wellmouth[edit | edit source]

A smattering of dark cottages at the White Well's edge. It is surrounded by endless rows of tumbled and broken statues, mere specks against the snow.


Wellmouth
Cobwebs.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303448


Wellmouth[edit | edit source]

Howling winds erupt from the frozen abyss, rattling roofs and chasing snow over mist-shrouded streets. Result of the Psalmist war(wellmouth_desc) A voice in your head...(wellmouth_desc)


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Ambition: Descend into the Well to form an alliance with the thing interred within
The suns feared it, and imprisoned it here. Perhaps you and it can help each other...
    • Dyingstar icon.png Ambition: the Truth = 110 [Form an alliance with the Thing in the White Well. You will need a Crimson Promise as proof of your value]

Into the parlour
With harness, pitons, and a carefully-secured rope, you climb down the ice of the well's mouth and into the dark.

Which seethes. And scuttles. And surges up from below, and the darkness is spiders, thousands of spiders. Not common spiders, but sorrow-spiders, each the size of a cat, and the leg of one is knotted to the leg of the next – a living, tidal tapestry of them, gushing across the icy walls.

A voice reaches up from below, and you realise that this seething flood is only a digit, only a finger, of the incomprehensible mass of them trapped deeper in the Well.
Take Asmoday, the Felined Eccentric's angry ginger tom, to the edge of the Well
There, you can hear the furious shrieks of the Failed Dead trying to crawl out. And another, deeper fury: one ancient and without end; skittering and numberless.
    • Fire icon.png Asmoday = 10 [Convince Asmoday to leave by taking him to the White Well, or drive him off by recruiting aid at Magdalene's]

    • Felinedeccentric icon.png Felined Eccentric ≥ 1 [The Felined Eccentric has boarded your locomotive.]

The Beast of the Pit
As you emerge from your engine and cross the ice, the Felined Eccentric looks across the well at the stern silhouette of the Stone-Faced Court. She lowers her gaze, as if the sight of it pains her. "Hurry," she says, her voice tight.

Asmoday pads to the lip of the well and peers curiously down into the dark. His ragged ears twitch at the shrieks from below. He settles down. His eyes are wide and round. His tail twitches.

The Eccentric touches your arm. You leave. Asmoday pays you no heed. This is where he was meant to be.
Seek the lost Correspondence sigil
There are many statues and, in the frost and ice, little to distinguish between them. You have only an approximate map and the supposition that it marks the location of a sigil.
Teetering on the edge
The statue is covered with ice. Hacking away the ice is brutal, miserable work. You find no sigil. The ice may have been all that held the statue together. A fracture groans. Half the statue topples forward, releasing a torrent of spiders that were nesting within its hollow core. And there is the sigil, hidden within.
Speak to the Widows
These cadaverous figures are known as the Widows at the Well. A voice in your head...(speak_widows)
Whispers among the Widows
You've attracted a half-circle of veiled observers by now. They respond to your questions with whispers and hiss among themselves.A voice in your head...(speak_widows2)

"You're in the wrong place," says one of them finally, stepping a little too close. She points to where the lights of Urd twinkle on the other side of the well. "The Stone-Faced Court is there."

"Grandmother will know you're here by now," says another of the Widows. "If you intend to stay, you must meet with her. Else, fly away at once."
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Seek out the Matronly Relict's approval
She squats in a black cottage at the village's heart. Its walls bulge and pulsate oddly. A voice in your head...(relict_approval)
The Matronly Relict
A voice in your head...(relict_approval3) She shuffles aside and gestures silently to an armchair beside a roaring fire. You ignore the insistent skitter-scratching coming from inside the walls, and you enter her parlour.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Meet the Exacting Ombudsman
He has rope, and hooks, and an ice-axe. He is preparing to climb into the Well. A voice in your head...(ombudsman_doom)
A bold descent
"This will be a doddle," says the Ombudsman brightly as he drops over the edge. "I'll pop down, find what's wrong with the Watcher, then come back up and we can work out how to fix it!" You watch as he descends. When you pull the rope back up, much later, the very end has been chewed off. A voice in your head...(ombudsman_doom2)
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Meet the Exacting Ombudsman
He has rope, and hooks, and an ice-axe. He is preparing to climb into the Well. A voice in your head...(ombudsman_doom)
A bold descent
"This will be a doddle," says the Ombudsman brightly as he drops over the edge. "I'll pop down, find out what's wrong with the Watcher, then come back up and we can work out how to fix it!"

You watch as he descends. When you pull the rope back up, much later, the very end has been chewed off. A voice in your head...(ombudsman_doom2)

The Lamentation of Mists will be pleased to hear of the Ombudsman's demise.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Visit the Matronly Relict
Watch the Widows inter one of the Failed Dead
A steady supply of immortals and quasi-immortals trickles from the Stone-Faced Court. A voice in your head...(failed_dead)
The end of an immortal
The Failed Dead is a cadaverous figure in a three-piece suit, his skin tattooed with phrases in Sanskrit. The Widows are dragging him to the edge of the Well atop a rickety cart. Though shackled in heavy iron, he thrashes and writhes like a snake on hot coals.

"I can give you power!" he shouts, voice carrying even above the wind. The Widows' wagon nears the edge. "Wealth! Secrets! Feasts, favours! I've lived a thousand years, I am owed debts by gods! What do you want?"

The Widows titter beneath their veils and tip him unceremoniously into the abyss. A voice in your head...(failed_dead2)

Advanced query needs investigation


Ask about changing your Status Wellmouth's Library
One of the Widows seems to fulfil the role of Wellmouth's archivist. She huddles alone in a library at the edge of the village, surrounded by crammed shelves, her floor obscured by a layer of damp-mangled books.

When you ask her about changing your status, she scrabbles through the tome-heap and retrieves, with triumph, a mouldy journal. She flips to the relevant page. A voice in your head...(status_change2)

"Centuries past, we employed something called a Spider-Sweeper," she says. "It was a role assigned to a Yoked spirit, back when Grandmother tolerated their presence. Perhaps ask her about it?"
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Fulfil your duties as the Spider-Sweeper
A voice in your head...(spider_sweeper)

Game note: This will change your status to Yoked, making you a lowly servant of the Blue Kingdom bureaucracy.

Failed event

Advanced query needs investigation

The Spider-Sweeper's Duty
The White Well's edges are a plunging tangle of clumped sorrow-spiders, thankfully frozen. Under your boots they crumble. With every step of your descent, shards of spider fall into the abyss.

The Failed Dead cling to the well like spiders in a bathtub. They've fought long and hard to avoid death, and they keep fighting even now. A voice in your head...(spider_sweeper2)

He grabs your arm and sinks his teeth so deep he strikes bone. You kick him away and both the immortal and your broomstick fall, spinning endlessly.
Successful event
The Spider-Sweeper's Duty
The White Well's edges are a plunging tangle of clumped sorrow-spiders, thankfully frozen. Under your boots they crumble. With every step of your descent, shards of spider fall into the abyss.

You come across one of the Failed Dead, limbs outstretched, fingertips wormed into ice-cracks. He dabbled in immortality, and ended up here for his trouble.

You swing toward him, broomstick jabbing and prodding, ignoring his yelps. He slips and falls into the abyss with a final screech. An undignified end for one who fought so hard not to end.

For the rest of the day you dislodge more Failed Dead, in much the same fashion. One whispers a confession in your ear before he plunges; another desperately summarises her life. Snatching for immortality, even now.
Fulfil your duties as the Spider-Sweeper
A voice in your head...(spider_sweeper)

Game note: You are already Yoked.

Failed event

Advanced query needs investigation

The Spider-Sweeper's Duty
The White Well's edges are a plunging tangle of clumped sorrow-spiders, thankfully frozen. Under your boots they crumble. With every step of your descent, shards of spider fall into the abyss.

The Failed Dead cling to the well like spiders in a bathtub. They've fought long and hard to avoid death, and they keep fighting even now. A voice in your head...(spider_sweeper2)

He grabs your arm and sinks his teeth so deep he strikes bone. You kick him away and both the immortal and your broomstick fall, spinning endlessly.
Successful event
The Spider-Sweeper's Duty
The White Well's edges are a plunging tangle of clumped sorrow-spiders, thankfully frozen. Under your boots they crumble. With every step of your descent, shards of spider fall into the abyss.

You come across one of the Failed Dead, limbs outstretched, fingertips wormed into ice-cracks. He dabbled in immortality, and ended up here for his trouble.

You swing toward him, broomstick jabbing and prodding, ignoring his yelps. He slips and falls into the abyss with a final screech. An undignified end for one who fought so hard not to end.

For the rest of the day you dislodge more Failed Dead, in much the same fashion. One whispers a confession in your ear before he plunges; another desperately summarises her life. Snatching for immortality, even now.
Hide and spy on the Widows' secret ceremony
You've heard there are rites only enacted when the Widows are alone.
Failed event

Advanced query needs investigation

Compromised
Your train departs (with orders to return tomorrow). The Widows watch it leave, veiled faces upturned. One sniffs the air.

It doesn't take them long to find your hiding-spot. They close in with silent ferocity, jabbing at you with fingertips sharp as needles. There are dozens of them, too many to fight without your crew behind you. Once you've been thoroughly perforated they drag you to the very edge of the White Well, leaving a bloody trail in the snow.

They leave you with one arm dangling into the abyss. Your crew find you bleeding, frostbitten, but alive.
Successful event
A hiding-place
Your engine departs (with orders to return tomorrow). The Widows watch it leave, veiled faces upturned. In well-rehearsed unison, they make their way to the White Well. You follow at a careful distance.

They stand at the Well's edge and raise their voices in chittering song. A seething shudder begins beneath your feet.

In a hideous rush, darkness floods from the eyes and mouths of the broken statues around Wellmouth. It is spiders – spiders! A scrabbling black vastness, an arachnid ocean. They churn and blot the snow, they overcome you. They wrap you in a scurrying shroud – eight million ancient eyes fix upon you—
Deposit the Psalmists
The Twice-Scorned Priest and his flock have travelled a long, long way from New Winchester. Your crew can't wait to be rid of them.
Thy mercy is good, deliver me
The Psalmists emerge from your train, pulling coats tight against the wind. They form a bleak, snow-battered huddle. A few hurry to fetch the wood and tools they brought. Soon, they've laid the foundations for a church.

"We can manage our own affairs for a while," the Twice-Scorned Priest tells you. His nose and ears are already bitter-red from the cold. "Take these maps. We don't need them any more. The church should be finished in two weeks. Visit us then."

As you leave you notice a line of Widows assembled in the distance, watching wordlessly.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Watch the Psalmists inter one of the Failed Dead
The Psalmists have taken to their new duty with savage glee. A voice in your head...(failed_dead3)
The end of an immortal
The Failed Dead is a woman in feathered robes, her head shaved, her eyes as dark as coals. The Psalmists are dragging her to the edge of the Well atop a rickety cart. She awaits her fate with apparent indifference.

Once they reach the edge, the Psalmists prance around her and yell joyful prayers and spit curses in her direction. She does not flinch. With a final "Amen," they kick her unceremoniously into the abyss.

A voice in your head...(failed_dead2)

Advanced query needs investigation


Visit the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
He has taken up residence in the Relict's old cottage, terrible in his triumph.
Hunger
The scent of cooked meat wafts over you as you near the cottage. You quicken your pace.

Advanced query needs investigation


Investigate the bleak little church
It stands a little away from the village, beside a cluster of wooden crosses almost lost in the snow.
The Twice-Scorned Priest
At the church door you meet the Psalmists' leader, a gaunt and bitter old man with a face like a flint tomahawk. In one hand he clutches a knife, as a show of devotion to his creed. He's held it for so long the fingers have withered around the hilt.

He tells you how his cult arrived here. A savage voyage across perilous skies, in a locomotive captained by a truly fascinating individual (whatever happened to them?).

After a contemplative silence, the Priest asks you to stay and listen to his next sermon.
Visit the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
He has taken up residence in the Relict's old cottage, terrible in his triumph.
Advanced query needs investigation



The Relict's Approval
Cobwebs.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303460


The Relict's Approval[edit | edit source]

A voice in your head...(relict_approval2) One of the Widows pours you a warm-ish tea, then kneels at the Relict's side with her head bowed. A voice in your head...(quality_text)

Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Request permission to linger at Wellmouth
The Relict pauses her weaving for a moment. "A tithe of souls must first be paid," says the Widow at her side.
A tithe accepted
Request permission to linger at Wellmouth
The Relict pauses her knitting for a moment. Her eyes and needles glint in the firelight.
Dismissal
"You are Invisible," mutters the kneeling Widow. "You are not permitted here. You are not permitted anywhere." What status would she find acceptable? The Widow averts her gaze from yours, but she answers your question. "Grandmother prefers the living to the dead. She will extend guest rights to the Antedeceased."
Request permission to linger at Wellmouth Dismissal
The kneeling Widow glares at you. "Leave here, spirit. Fly away to the Stone-Faced Court. Wellmouth was ceded to the Widows. As long as we perform our duties, the dead cannot interfere. That is a pact as old as the Court itself." A voice in your head...(relict_approval9)
Leave the cottage
You don't want to stay a moment longer.



The Matronly Relict
Cobwebs.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303465


The Matronly Relict[edit | edit source]

A cup of tea is placed before you. It's not quite warm. A voice in your head...(relicts_cottage) A voice in your head...(quality_text)


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Ask why the Widows live here, on the frozen edge
What exactly are the Widows? Why have they isolated themselves so far from the Stone-Faced Court?
An answer of sorts
A voice in your head...(graven_question)

"We are here to inter the Failed Dead," mutters the Widow sulkily, rubbing her ear. "The Court sends us those who've failed to satisfactorily die, and we lay them to rest. Usually against their will.

"And when we have no guests poking their noses in our business, we perform other duties." The Widow smirks. "Ones that even the Court don't know about."
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Ask to become the Spider-Sweeper
A duty so ancient the Court have forgotten to make it obsolete. Reinstating it will require a bribe.

Game note: This will enable you to change your status to Yoked.

The Spider-Sweeper
A voice in your head...(sweeper_question)

"Grandmother had forgotten this role even existed," says the Widow. "To confirm your appointment, you must perform the associated duties at least once. The Spider-Sweeper's role is to descend into the White Well and dislodge the Failed Dead that cling to its walls."

A voice in your head...(sweeper_question2)

Game note: To become Yoked, you must sweep the Well.

Game note: Since Yoked spirits are not permitted at Wellmouth, you will lose the Relict's permission to speak with her Widows.

Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Enact the Rite of Wedlock
"Before descending, you must unburden yourself of secrets," says the Widow.

Game note: You may only be subject to one well-rite at a time. This one increases your Mirrors at a cost of your Hearts and Iron.

The Rite of Wedlock
A voice in your head...(wedlock_commentary2)

The Well's walls are teeming, cascading, with frozen sorrow-spiders. A voice in your head...(wedlock_commentary)The Relict reaches out and plucks one like fruit, holding it reverently.

"Do you take this spider as your lawful wedded husband?" asks the Widow, words half-snatched by the wind. You nod.

"You may now devour the groom."

It takes several painful swallows to force the lump of ice to slide down your throat. It gets easier as it melts. For a moment, as it warms and softens and descends, you feel the twitch of a leg.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Forsake your current rite
You would be rid of it.

Game note: This will remove your current well-rite, allowing you to take another.

An extermination
The Widow's eyes flash with outrage. "To reject the blessing of a Well is— Ow!"

The Relict interrupts her by reaching out, grabbing her hair, and casually shaking her like a doll.

While the Widow whimpers, the Relict bares her unbearable teeth. She reaches under the armchair and retrieves a bottle of ink-black wine, tiny as a vial between titanic fingers. She pours it into a chipped ceramic bowl with surprising delicacy.

It tastes like Hell distilled, and scalds your throat and tongue. The Relict extends a finger and traces something on your forehead, something that writhes.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Offer to help the Widows drive off the Psalmists
The Psalmists are encroaching on the Widows' territory. You could help them rebuke the cursing priests.
The Matronly Relict Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Ask the Relict about the deaths of the Psalmists
A cluster of baby sorrow-spiders, tiny as pennies and gleaming like dew, suckle moisture from one of her eyes.
The slaughtered congregation
The Relict clicks and twists her head. The sorrow-spiders on her face scuttle in all directions, and nestle in the crevices of her flesh.

"They were uninvited and their presence disturbed us," says the Widow. Is she translating? "We could only toy with them for so long. Their deaths are their own doing."

A voice in your head...(death_psalmists)
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Leave the Relict's cottage
Does the fire sputter out just before the door swings shut?


The Dressing of the Well
Cobwebs.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303513


The Dressing of the Well[edit | edit source]

The rustling flood of spiders encircles the Well and weaves immense gossamer displays at its rim. Whales, gardens, dragons and castles: all manner of wonders rise and are devoured. The Widows watch, hands clasped. You lie on your back, silk-pinned. You can do nothing but stare at the sky, and blink away the occasional inquisitive spider. As you stare up, you realise there is something wrong with the stars. The stars are writhing specks in the web that was the sky.


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the sky.
A purring voice in your head...
Something has noticed you
Your brain feels like it's being hammered on an anvil. Beaten, yes, but also reshaped.

The memories most precious to you are shuffled like cards. Old wounds tease open. Darkest fears are dragged out writhing for inspection. Something is dancing inside your head, skittering excitedly from nook to crevice, but when you try to think what it might be, it scuttles into the shadows.

You cease struggling and let it do its terrible work. When you wake, the spiders and gossamer and Widows are gone. You are alone in the snow, surrounded by silent statues.

But not quite alone.



The Twice-Scorned, Now-Triumphant Priest
Originpriest.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303588


The Twice-Scorned, Now-Triumphant Priest[edit | edit source]

The Priest sits in the Relict's old armchair, his feet up before a blazing fire. He welcomes you with a rotten grin. He's boarded up the Relict's trapdoor and placed a table over it. Eaten the pies(desc)


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
How has the Stone-Faced Court reacted?
The Widows' duties were an essential part of their tradition, and the Court usually react badly to a change in tradition.
An understanding
"I came to an arrangement with the Court before I launched our attack on the Widows," admits the Priest with a smirk. "I'm not totally incapable of politics, you know. Provided we took over their ceremonial duties, the Graven were positively giddy at the prospect of getting rid of the Widows. It seems they were regarded as a little unnerving."
Ask to become the Spider-Sweeper
A duty so ancient the Court have forgotten to make it obsolete. Reinstating it will require a testament that you are, indeed, dead.

Game note: This will enable you to change your status to Yoked.

The Spider-Sweeper
"Why in God's spite would you want such a dreadful duty?" asks the Priest, shaking his head. "It's essentially a glorified janitor. Of course, you can take the role if you wish it."

He rummages in one of the nearby cupboards and pulls out your ceremonial broomstick. "Here. May it serve you well, I suppose. You will need to actually fulfil your duty before you are granted the position."

Game note: To become Yoked, you must sweep the Well.

Enact the Rite of Wedlock
The Priest nods. "The first part of the Rite is to unburden your soul."

Game note: You may only be subject to one well-rite at a time. This one increases your Mirrors at a cost of your Hearts and Iron.

The Rite of Wedlock
The wooden platform creaks alarmingly as you descend, swinging wildly, into the well. The walls teem with clumps of frozen sorrow-spiders. Grimacing, the Priest reaches out and plucks one like fruit.

"Do you take this spider as your lawful wedded husband?" he asks. You nod.

"You may now devour the groom."

It takes several painful swallows to force the lump of ice to slide down your throat. It gets easier as it melts. For a moment, as it warms and softens and descends, you think you can feel the twitch of a leg.

A voice in your head...(wedlock_commentary)
Forsake your current rite
You would be rid of it.

Game note: This will remove your current well-rite, allowing you to take another.

An extermination
"I believe there is a concoction that can cleanse you." The Priest reaches under his armchair and retrieves a bottle of ink-black wine. When uncorked, it hisses and spits like a cobra. The Priest pours it into a chipped ceramic bowl. "Drink." It tastes like Hell distilled, and scalds your throat and tongue. The Priest intones words from the Judas Psalm: "Let them be before the Lord continually, that he may cut off the memory of them from the earth."
Ask for a reward for helping the Psalmists
Without you, they would certainly have perished in the snow.
Words of hatred
"Of course." The Priest grins – have you ever seen him grin? You expect you'd remember those rotted teeth. "The Graven are paying me handsomely for our services. I never expected that life in service of the Judas Psalm would lead me to riches, but it's funny how life turns out." He pours a small glass of brandy and settles back comfortably, offering you a toast. "To the suffering of our enemies. To the crushing of insects. To faith in spite."
Leave the cottage
The walls are mostly silent now, but you can't shake the feeling that something is watching you from the cracks.
Advanced query needs investigation


Eat one of the suspicious pies
Where did the Psalmists get so much meat? Weren't they struggling for food? But the pie smells delicious. Delicious enough, perhaps, for you to put your questions aside.
Deliciously suspicious; suspiciously delicious
The Priest watches you a little too eagerly as you take your first bite, his decaying grin widening. "Good, yes? Our treat. Home made."

It is good. So good that you eat it savagely, wolfishly, shoving pastry and crimson meat into your mouth with a frenzied urgency. Soon you realise that the pie is gone and you are biting and tearing at your own juice-stained fingertips.

It only satisfies for a moment. The Priest smiles indulgently and pushes the platter towards you.

Advanced query needs investigation




The Church of the Judas Psalm
Originpriest.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 305593


The Church of the Judas Psalm[edit | edit source]

The church stands dark and forbidding at the edge of the well.

Trigger conditions

Originpriest icon.png Far From Their Ruined Homes ≥ 3 ≤ 11,
Result of the Psalmist war ≤ 2,


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Check on the Psalmists
Their church is half-buried in snow.
An Abandoned Church
The church is a shell, half-collapsed, bedecked in webs. A little digging reveals the Psalmists themselves, their perfectly-frozen corpses scattered haphazardly among the pews. The Priest died with his knife raised to strike.

They're shrivelled and gaunt beyond imagining. You can't tell if the Widows or the hunger got to them first.

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.

Advanced query needs investigation Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Visit the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
The Priest's congregation has been halved. He awaits new converts, sharpening his knife, watching vigilantly from his window.

The event name changes based on the value for Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned)

Visit the Psalmists
The Priest has been plotting how to deal with the Widows.
The cursing he loved, may it fall on him
You've stumbled upon a funeral. The congregation is half its former size, and they're in the midst of lowering a coffin into a grave. A dozen more coffins are stacked behind, awaiting their resting-place.

The Priest's eulogy boils with rage. Curses and spittle fly in equal measure. When the ceremony is done, he meets you at the graveside.

"Widows attacked in the night," he growls. "We fought them off, but our numbers are too few to survive another battle. I don't care where you find them – we need converts. The best Psalmists can be found among the bitter and desperate. Bring them to us."

Advanced query needs investigation Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Visit the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
One parishioner is gnawing at a twig he found under the snow. If you don't bring supplies soon, the Psalmists will starve.

The event name changes based on the value of Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned)

Check on the Psalmists
Their wooden church stands completed at the Well's edge, dark and ramshackle and icicle-hemmed.

Advanced query needs investigation


Talk to the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
The Psalmists are busy raising a church while the Widows look on.
The Twice-Scorned Priest
The Priest receives you in his half-built church. His congregation are hammering and sawing, but not him. He cannot work. As a show of devotion, he has been clutching a knife in one hand for decades. His fingers have withered lifelessly around the hilt.

"We left Old Tom's Well because we disagreed on the interpretation of a line of the Psalm," he tells you. "A schism, I suppose. But only because those fools were too stubborn to concede their point!

"Yet in the end, New Winchester wasn't right for us either." He glances out over the White Well and scowls. "This place suits our temperament."
Advanced query needs investigation

Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.


Visit the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
The Widows wait outside his church's grounds. You can make out chilling smiles beneath their veils. They await an end to the truce.

The event name changes based on the value of Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned)

Ask for the Priest's forgiveness
The Psalmists have cursed your name, and it is not in their nature to forgive. But self-interest may change their minds.
Failed event Advanced query needs investigation
The Church does not forgive
Before you can launch into your apology, the Priest orders you out of his sight. His followers pursue you back to the locomotive, screaming invective.
Successful event
Knees weak through fasting
For some time, the Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest glowers at you beneath formidable brows. "Very well," he says finally, through gritted teeth. "We'll accept your help and say no more on the matter."
Knock at the Church's door
Have they forgiven you yet?
The Church does not forgive
Someone is reciting curses at you through the keyhole. They get steadily more vicious until you leave.
Advanced query needs investigation



A Misbegotten Church
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303541


A Misbegotten Church[edit | edit source]

The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest stands at his altar, delivering something half-curse, half-sermon. "The Widows have promised to kill us if we don't leave!" he roars, his knife-gnarled fist raised. "May their vittles turn to scorpions in their mouths! May their limbs atrophy, their minds unravel, their souls be damned!" Once the sermon is over, he draws you aside. The Psalmists are running perilously low on food. They need your help.


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Can't they trade with the Stone-Faced Court?
Urd sits glimmering on the other side of the Well. The Graven have food to spare.
Flesh faileth of fatness
The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest spits on the floor. "The Graven fear offending the Widows too much to trade with us or give us work."
Offer to bring them Supplies
You can't just let them starve.
Knees weak through fasting
The Priest nods, chewing his lip until blood trickles down his chin. "Thank you," he says finally, through gritted teeth. He takes you down to the half-dug cellars and shows you their existing supplies. A few sacks of grain, some hanging strips of salted pork, a crate of teeth-cracking biscuits. This wouldn't be enough for a congregation half its size. They'll need more. A lot more.
Refuse to help
You've done enough.

Game note: This will condemn the Psalmists to death.

None to extend mercy
The Priest's eyes flash. "You, too, will forsake me?" he snarls. "Thrice now I have been scorned, and each time I rise unbroken from the dust, and my enemies perish like dogs!"

The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest and his entire parish follow you back to your train, howling, snarling, tearing at their robes and hurling increasingly inventive curses.

Game note: The Psalmists will quickly perish without your help.

Maybe they should consider leaving the White Well?
The Widows don't want them here. Their supplies are already vanishing. The relentless winds are scouring them to the bone.
Desolate places
"No. We have moved enough. This is where we must thrive or die." The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest bows his head. "And if we die, so be it."



The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest
Originpriest.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303550


The Twice-scorned Priest[edit | edit source]

He looks even thinner and flintier than last you saw him. The wind and the hunger chip at him day after day, sharpening him like a knife. A voice in your head...(twice_scorned_priest)

Trigger conditions

Genericcharacter icon.png A voice in your head... ≥ 1


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
You have brought a small amount of Supplies
Enough for the congregation to go to bed tonight without entirely dreading the morning.
Let thy servant rejoice
The Psalmists are hollowed-out, their eyes huge in shrunken faces. They lack the strength to carry the crates from your train. Your crew oblige on their behalf. "Better than nothing," says the Priest. His eyes gleam with a wildness you haven't seen before – hunger has brought the animal to the surface. "Thank you. Thank you. We carry on."
You have brought a moderate amount of Supplies
Enough to drive the wolf away, for at least a little while.
Let thy servant rejoice
With some help from your crew, the Psalmists drag crates of grain and biscuits and salted pork out into the snow. They're too exhausted to cheer, and unpractised at it anyway. "This provides a respite," mutters the Priest. "It gives me time to worry about other things. Like the Widows who prowl around our church at night, singing strange songs in a heathen tongue."
You have brought a large amount of Supplies
Enough to tame the hunger. To turn it from a raging beast into a grumbling companion.
Let thy servant rejoice
Your crates are dragged out into the snow amid a ragged cheer. The Priest proudly shows you that the Psalmists' farming efforts are improving – they've somehow managed to force the frozen ground to produce a single, somewhat edible turnip. And thanks to your generosity, no one will have to eat it.
You have brought a huge amount of Supplies
Enough.
Let thy servant rejoice
The Priest's eyes nearly pop out of his head as your crew pile crate after crate in front of his congregation. You hand him an inventory. His hands shake as he reads aloud.

"Salted pork... salted beef... biscuits, grain, oats... flour, suet, butter (butter!), raisins... Cheese and vinegar... Wine, beer, rum, O Lord..."

You suspect this is the closest that the Cursing Church have ever come to a truly joyful prayer.
The Psalmists finally have enough Supplies to survive
For the foreseeable future, at least.
Stand at the right hand of the poor
"We came close." The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest is sharpening the knife encased in his withered hand. "A few days longer, and there would have been butchery."

He puts down the whetstone. "I have something to tell you. I suspect the Widows are not just here to care for the Failed Dead. Something else dwells below. Something they worship, and cultivate, and feed. I think they need to be stopped before they wake it up.

"Return in two weeks. I need some time to consider our next course of action."
Deliver a new batch of followers to the Priest
They step out into unwelcoming winds, shivering, hands clamped under armpits. The Priest welcomes them with a cursory nod.
Among the multitude
"You. Get chopping wood for the fire. You, keep watch. You three, grab a shovel each and start clearing snow from our porch." The Priest snaps his orders with military efficiency. The new converts hesitate.

"Can we listen to a sermon before we get to work? Perhaps take a moment for prayer?" asks one of the new parishioners. "We had some questions about the theological connotations of—"

"Here's a classic sermon of mine," says the Priest. "May your guts turn to bloated jellyfish if you don't get to work right now!"
Tell the Priest you've delivered him enough followers
    • Iron icon.png The Psalmists' Strength ≥ 1 [The Psalmists' Strength is still very low. They may not survive another battle with the Widows]

    • Originpriest icon.png Far From Their Ruined Homes = 6 [Recruit new followers for the Psalmists at Piranesi, Carillon, or the Brabazon Workworld]

Not to shew mercy
The Twice-scorned(Twice-scorned) Priest assesses his congregation with a critical eye. He sniffs. "This will have to do."

He turns to you. "We attacked the Widows too early before. If we hope to defeat them we will need more than clubs and stones. We will need bullets for our rifles, and a blazing new curse upon our lips."

He hesitates for a moment. "I meant to say when the Widows attacked us, of course."

Game note: Bring the Priest a Crate of Carefully-Packed Munitions and a Moment of Inspiration.

Deliver ammunition, both literal and ideological
The Priest slams his knife into the crate and levers it open. Bullets spill across the snow.

Game note: This will begin the final battle between the Widows and the Psalmists.

Adversaries
"Take arms!" cries the Priest. With a great roar his followers scrabble for bullets, rifles slung over their shoulders. They stream from the church in a stamping, cursing mob, and make a beeline for the silent village of Wellmouth. Widows flood from the cottages and scrabble across rooftops. They await the Psalmists' advance with glimmering eyes.
Tell the Priest you're no longer going to help him
You leave no terms uncertain.

Game note: You will no longer be able to help the Priest.

None to extend mercy
The Priest's eyes flash. "You, too, will forsake me?" he snarls. "Thrice now I have been scorned, and each time I rise unbroken from the dust, and my enemies perish like dogs!" The Thrice-scorned Priest and his entire parish follow you back to your train, howling and tearing at their robes and hurling increasingly inventive curses.
Offer to help the Priest
After the battle, he is a broken man.
A final request
"Our core tenet is to reject forgiveness," says the Priest. "Even if we trusted the Widows to keep the truce, we cannot live in peace alongside an enemy. And I do not trust the Widows. "Leaving New Winchester was a mistake." His words are hissed between gritted teeth. "I think it is time for us to return us there. Could you take us back? I have nothing to offer you as payment. Everything has been taken from me."
Agree to ferry the Psalmists back to New Winchester
One last bitter journey.
Adversaries clothed with shame
The Psalmists file wretchedly aboard your train. They arrived well-fed, angry, in ragged but functional robes; the survivors depart thinner, filthier, their garments hanging from their thin limbs in tatters. Even their anger is gone. Their church stands abandoned, a broken monument to their creed.
Leave the church
As you leave, the Priest begins a sermon. Curses ring in your ears long after the church itself has been swallowed by the driving snow.


Locations
Region Hub Ports Discoveries / Spectacles
The Reach Newwinchester icon.png New Winchester Carillon icon.png Carillon

Hybras icon.png Hybras
Naturereserve icon.png Leadbeater & Stainrod's Nature Reserve
Lustrum icon.png Lustrum
Magdalenes icon.png Magdalene's
Circus icon.png Polmear & Plenty's Inconceivable Circus
Portavon icon.png Port Avon
Portprosper icon.png Port Prosper
Titania icon.png Titania
Traitorswood icon.png Traitor's Wood
Transitrelay icon.png Transit Relays

Signalbox icon.png An Abandoned Signal Box

Default icon.png Faith's Fall
Well green icon.png Old Tom's Well
Regentsgrave icon.png Regent's Grave
Rose icon.png The Flowerfields
Default icon.png The Regent's Tears
Wreckgeneric icon.png The Silent Saint
Reach icon.png The War of Fossils
Wreckgeneric icon.png Wreck of the Parzifal

Albion London icon.png London Avidhorizon icon.png Avid Horizon (The Stair to the Sea)

Perdurance icon.png Perdurance
Brabazon icon.png The Brabazon Workworld
Clockworksun icon.png The Clockwork Sun
Floatingparliament icon.png The Floating Parliament
Serenemausoleum icon.png The Most Serene Mausoleum
Royalsociety icon.png The Royal Society
Transitrelay icon.png Transit Relays
Worlebury icon.png Worlebury-juxta-Mare

Default icon.png Skyhenge

Lantern icon.png St Anthony's Lighthouse
Avidhorizon icon.png The Avid Horizon
Well purple icon.png Well of the Wolf
Wreckgeneric icon.png Wreck of the Boatman

Eleutheria Pan icon.png Pan Achlys icon.png Achlys

Caduceus icon.png Caduceus
Eaglesempyrean icon.png Eagle's Empyrean
Langleyhall icon.png Langley Hall
Piranesi icon.png Piranesi
Houseofrodsandchains icon.png The House of Rods and Chains
Transitrelay icon.png Transit Relays

Default icon.png The Xanthous Moon

Well yellow icon.png The Well of Wonders
Wreckgeneric icon.png Wreck of the Berrenger

The Blue Kingdom Tolltower icon.png Sky Barnet Deathsdoorstep icon.png Death's Door (The Shadow of the Sun)

Forgeofsouls icon.png The Forge of Souls
Whitewell icon.png The White Well (Wellmouth)
Transitrelay icon.png Transit Relay

Deathsdoorstep icon.png Horologion