Leviathan hunting…in spaaaaaaace!

Leviathan hunting…in spaaaaaaace!

Leviathan hunting…in spaaaaaaace!

OK, not really. I just read the bit about the marriage of an ink-black sky and sea, both cradling ever-shifting stars, the result a maddening void which, presumably, seems likened to the cold darkness of outer space in our world. Hell (pun intended), it may actually be a three-dimensional journey, the various kingdoms shifting in the darkness. Only by navigating the strange, subconscious ghost-currents can members of the Cartographer’s Guild guide ships through the night-waves. Or not. Who knows? 🙂

I see some great moments akin to Alien and Event Horizon happening to those who sail deep into the void.

26 thoughts on “Leviathan hunting…in spaaaaaaace!”

  1. You take the carriage to the docks, the salt and tar smell of the sea making it known before you arrive. You board, and are left in a cabin while your luggage is brought up by block and tackle. The bed is hard but the sheets are freshly laundered, and from outside you can hear the dockworkers and sailors calling to one another and the soft slap of the waves against the hull.

    A week later it’s dark. Even with the lantern lit the corners of your tiny cabin seem to hold a lurking gloom. Your sheets have the tang of your own fevered sweat, and as you hold them tight, eyes flicking about, you realise you can no longer hear the waves against the hull…

  2. What if getting lost at sea sometimes brings you to chthonic shores upon which stand alien structures? Such places might only be referenced in blasphemous tomes or on the cracked lips of the mad and in the bleeding dreams of cultists.

    One of my favorite albums is Blue Oyster Cult’s Imaginos and for years its story has inspired ideas I’ve yet to use. Blades is the first game that feels the perfect fit.

  3. One of my favorite recent scores was the crew on a leviathan hunter at sea facing a demon onboard. It was very Virus/Event Horizon/Alien, in no small part because of what people have said upthread.

  4. A ship’s navigator is it’s most important crew member. So much so that a smart captain will always have more than one navigator on board, usually the main navigator and their apprentice.

    The navigation room on a ship is always below deck in the bowels of the ship. Bedecked with maps and arcane instruments, it is the navigation porthole that is the most important tool of the ship navigator. Built by hand by the finest spirit mask artisans of Duskvol, the navigator’s porthole is built specially to afford a view beneath the water line into the depths of the sea.

    With coastlines out of sight, a ship must rely on their navigator’s mastery of how to plot a path using the strange constellations that shine in the deep dark sea. The navigator’s porthole offers the clearest view of those strange stars in the inky black waters. It is also through these portholes that navigators delve for the great leviathans in the depths.

    The navigator’s porthole is kept shuttered and locked when not in use. When the navigator is set to use the porthole, a guard is stationed at their door so that no one is allowed in — no matter what horrific sounds come from inside. Many stories are told of overconfident captains barging into the navigation room, only to run out screaming and fall into a catatonic stupor.

  5. Timothy Walsh , it’s in my car on CD as we post! Remember CDs? Oh, when we were young…

    How about that song, “The Siege And Investiture Of Baron Von Frankenstein’s Castle At Weiserria”? Crazy-cool tune.

    Anyway, that mirror is an absolute must in Blades.

  6. Colin Fahrion , I know I do this a lot, but extra +1s, bud!

    Might I add my addition of the Siren? I really like your navigator and would like mixing it with my idea.

    The ship’s Siren is a powerful psychonautical Whisper. This post is considered almost holy and the Siren is willingly bound by sacred chains in a nigh-impregnable room, the walls etched with runes of silver. Only the ship’s spark-wright deafened Spirit Warden is allowed entry to the Siren’s chamber. The Siren hums incessantly, their incomprehensible, maddening tune echoing through the depths, calling to the chthonic beasts the ship is seeking. Once the song is joined, they sing louder…louder…until the void across the Black Wall is filled with the screaming song of the blasphemous duo. No mortal can survive the song, it’s ancient melody rendering them undone. The ink-black waters are soon breached and the crew sets to work, claiming their bloody prize. Without the Siren’s song, the leviathan would be impossible to tether and would tear even the mightiest Hunter to shreds.

    (I had to add more cuz work had me doing stuff)

  7. Done. I had them as both (not genderless, wrong term) but then the classic Sirens of myth popped into my head. I agree that it’s better with both sexes.

    I thought up Sirens a while ago, but Colin’s Navigators are honestly so much cooler. 🙂

  8. Ben Liepis Not only are Sirens not let out into cities without Spirit Warden escort, rune etched carriages and especially designed gags on grounds of not letting their incomprehensible yet surprisingly catchy tunes get out, but also because demons will flock to Sirens. The singing of a Siren rings beautifully to the ears of fiends. Depending on the temperament of the local demon populations news of a Siren can result in them ripping each other apart to get her, the organisation of a sanctum where demons regularly gather to listen or a new acquisition for the Head Demon of that region. However a demon won’t keep a Siren forever because spending to much time without the Sea and the Leviathan Song stains a Siren’s mental state. If she goes years without it, she will eventually grow depressed and her singing distressed and hollow, despite what other good fortunes she may have at which point her singing will no longer bring joy to the demons, despite their best efforts to make her feel better. At which point rash demons end up killing her in frustration. In Iruvia they devised a system to defend against this, Sirens are rotated between ships to diabolic meeting places in accord to ancient pacts, most imperial cities however have nothing of the sort. Conflicts over Sirens have been known to cause massive ruckuses with Spirit Wardens, Leviathan Hunters, Demons and the factions controlled(overtly or not) by said demons. The Leviathan Song itself can cause weird things to happen to those who pick up it’s tune. This runs the gambit from insomnia, obsession, (arguably divine) inspiration, paranoia, changes in personality, irritation, harmony and clarity. Except for Tychorosi, who are reminded of their homeland, whatever that means for them.

  9. Ben Liepis Really like your Siren idea too! No reason a ship can’t have both. I mean Leviathan hunting is a serious endeavor so it makes sense that it requires a lot of different people with specific arcane skills to get it done!

  10. Gorinich Serpant , holy shit that is awesome! Like, just wow. Yeah, mine! 🙂

    Seriously, that, as well as other things we’ve all posted, are going in my games. Damn, I haven’t been this inspired by a game in years!

    Oh, I’m also stealing your name for an NPC because it’s very cool.

  11. Ben Liepis Many thanks, glad I could tickle your cranium. I wouldn’t have come up with it if you didn’t post your idea as well. Yeah for brain scratching!

    The little kid in me who originally selected Gorinich as their Club Penguin username wants to say that Gorinich is the name of a three headed dragon in Russian folklore. So there is some allusions you can add to an NPC with that name.

  12. Gorinich Serpant , a Russian dragon, eh? That is pretty neat. Hmm, I’m going to have to think about how dragons fit into the cosmological bestiary of Blades, if at all.

  13. Ben Liepis Dragons could be like Leviathans but with an affinity to fire and air rather than water and stars. They could have buggered off somewhere after the cataclysm or maybe they are still bound in the seals of the Immortal Emperor while only the Leviathans got out. Which would mean that there are several other varieties of mega demon still under wraps, waiting to be broken out.

  14. Perhaps they lie in buried prison-tombs in Tycheros, or in lands unknown, such as the Unmade Isles* of the Void Sea.

    *The Unmade Isles are thought by most to be pure legend. There are countless rumors of lost ships returning from the farthest reaches of the Void Sea, the crew missing, driven hopelessly mad…or worse. The only known ship believed to have returned in relative safety was the “Imaginos”, captained by the Iruvian explorer, Franzin Del Rio. His diary gives descriptions of immense, haunted ruins whose very sight drove many of his men mad. Filled with terrible wonders, demons and the restless dead, the descriptions of this broken city bear an impossible resemblance to things and places long-lost. The few Pre-Shattering scholars who believe the tales marvel at the possibilities, arguing endlessly over the truth of his accounts. None of the expeditions attempting to verfiy his claims have returned.

    Del Rio and his ship haven’t been seen in decades, his existence relegated to a seaman’s myth and cautionary tale. Those inclined to believe the stories know of only two links to Del Rio’s past: his granddaughter (a reclusive, Iruvian noblewoman) and the black mirror gifted to her upon her grandfather’s return.

    Is the granddaughter still alive? If so, where?

    Where is Del Rio’s diary? His ship?

    What became of the black mirror? What does it do?

    Anyway, a work in progress.

  15. Ben Liepis My brain farted while reading this and thought that the text said that a woman and a black mirror were Del Rio’s parents.

    Franzin Del Rio should not be confused with the mystic called Franzin “Old Fartbag” Del Rio as they are not related. This mystic’s claim to fame is that his presence somehow repels ghosts and that his smell quite mundanely repels the living. He claims that his father was black mirror but refuses to explain how that makes any sense. The Fartbag gets by from people paying him to go away.

  16. What’s crazy is he’s the target for the crew’s next score! How about that? The assassins need to kidnap him for a cult who worships old cheese and feet.

    They aren’t very frightening.

  17. I don’t know about that. I heard that they can give you an odor that sticks to you even when your spirit leaves your body. It won’t kill ya sure, but you’ll stick out like a sore thumb and no one will take you seriously with a faint cheesy aroma.

  18. Not going to lie, I’ve been considering the idea of the psychonautical Whisper for sometime now. Mine actually incorporated facets of both the Siren and the Navigator into one package. Not only because the idea of a psionic navigator is just plain awesome to me and thematic as heck, but also because I’ve been considering other sea vehicles like submarines where navigation is going to be tricky without it being some sort of mind bending arcane horror.

    Trapped in a iron box with minimal air, in a void of madness and darkness pretty much writes itself.

    I bring all of this up because I wanted to add my own two cents about Leviathan Hunters. I always saw them not only like oil rigs with the long crew times but also incredibly dangerous. Like an episode of Deadliest Catch on steroid that’s filmed on a 40k deathworld.

    One of the first things I wondered about in regards to the Deathlands and places like Serveros; the book mentions horrors, ghosts, and demon as well as a semi-poisonous miasma. Which is all awesome. But, what happened to all the animals?

    I mean, the obvious answer is they mostly died off. Except, we have those exceptions like the ghost eating horses and spirit seeker crows. So why not more animals? What are the Serverosi tribes hunting? Those blind eels that everyone eats…what do those eat? So what I’m getting at is there should be an entire ecosystem in that ocean. Some of it natural, some of it not. Some of the natural twisted into new and unnatural shapes.

    So my Leviathan Hunters employ a full contingent of Marines and the odd group of Bravos to sure up numbers and act as fodder. The Void Sea should be alive and probably always hungry. Every voyage probably loses men and loses soldiers by the score, but there are always more. Both because the blood has to keep flowing to keep life going. But also because they pay pretty well, probably more than the average laborer could dream of in a lifetime. So people that don’t expect to have a future are sure to take the gamble. Get rich or die trying as they say.

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