Originally published April 2016

Due to my recent obsession with the rogue-lite, story-focused, H.P. Lovecraft sailing simulator, Sunless Sea, I decided to make my playthrough more personally interesting by sharing the adventures of my second ship captain from his journal. Sadly, my first was lost in the great computer upgrade.

If you haven't read the last entry, click here.

Northeast of London - September 14, 1880

I had made the risky decision to take a more direct course back to London for the sake of saving fuel and charting out my map a little more. As a result, we have very few land masses in our path to help give any of us an idea of where we are. At one point a zailor lost his nerve and fired a flare into the air, convinced he saw something moving beneath us. As the other, more reserved, crew members restrained the fellow I was able to make out the island that sat adjacent to Venderbight. In that moment of fear-fueled madness that would normally spread like a disease among the crew, the light of the flare gave us all a little hope and some reassurance as to where we were in this world.

As the flare popped and fell, I could vaguely make out shapes in the stone sky. At that moment, I felt truly at peace with myself but also wholly insignificant. As grand as my song of the zee may become, echoing in this grand chasm of darkness, what stirs beneath the waves is more than capable of swallowing us all whole at any moment. Let us hope our travels take us where we need to go as quickly and efficiently as possible, so as not to tempt the old gods to a meal.

Fallen London - September 15, 1880

The sigh of relief we all let out upon our return home was as loud and forceful as the exhaust from the ship. All of us had gained a real sense of fear out on the silent waters of the Unterzee. Even after the fool's outburst and flare fiasco, it didn't take long for the dark to settle in again making us all wary.

I had to make the difficult decision to ride a good distance without the torch lit for the sake of our fuel reserves. Once we reached the foggy outcrop of the Corsair Forest, we lifted our spirits a bit with some pirate hunting. We chased down a vessel that had lodged itself against an island, incapable of defending itself, and scuttled her in the name of glorious London. They were carrying some supplies we were not short of, but the minor victory helped calm everyone's nerves and allowed us to take a moment from thinking of what lurked below or above. With our spirits revitalized, we rode back to London's open arms with the light of the land to guide us.

Now that we've safely pulled into port I can begin taking care of my errands to hopefully pay for our next venture. I think I'll stop in at the admiralty first and, if they pay me well enough for the reports, I may spend a little for a night on the town. I could use a break from the stress, and drinking with the crew may help relieve some tension before heading into my apartment.

South of London - September 17, 1880

It's been a full day since we left London and I can't stop thinking about her. She had such radiant, alabaster skin that caught my eye as soon as I walked into the pub last night. I had to swallow a few pints before my thoughts settled from the initial impact of her beauty. Fortunately for me, any foolish behavior I exhibited may have been dampened by my mate's kind words.

Niles, the cunning sea dog, had already been talking her up and overselling me. I think he's trying to make his way into my first officer spot without formally requesting it. The joker doesn't know that I would give him the spot if he'd ask for it, as he just proved how good he is at smooth-talking; an admirable trait for someone who is likely to spend some time ashore with various natives in our adventure.

After Niles left us alone at the table, we sat and talked together for hours with her about London and the Unterzee. She seemed genuinely interested in the perspective of a poet at zee and was quite curious about the wildlife we had encountered thus far. She said that her father was a biologist who had been studying the behavior of the various crab species of the Unterzee. He and his fellow scientists wrote several books on the creatures and had been investigating the blue luminescent species of the southern waters when they were attacked and killed by pirates down by the Mangrove College.

When I gave my condolences, she seemed relatively at ease about everything. "Don't get me wrong, Captain. If you encounter pirates, every vessel you send to the zee's bottom will give me a small measure of pleasure, but my father knew the risks. His passion led him to dangerous places, but it was still something he loved doing. It inspired me to follow in his footsteps and study biology in hopes of adding to the research he started."

I asked her if she wished to join our crew as a biological correspondent, but she merely shook her head and replied with a laugh, "I get zee sick," she said.

What an evening. The woman was such a delight, though the coy fox never gave me her name. I hope I may meet her again so I might be able to find that out at least.