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Promenade / Re: Work jackets
« on: September 16, 2019, 08:52:16 AM »Crew shirts
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Promenade / Bogg (Cosmic seeds)
« on: September 14, 2019, 09:11:56 AM »Bogg consciousness is nebulous. They are in a sense, all one consciousness they call the Radix Mundi, but they don’t all remember all of it all of the time. Individual Bogg are aligned with clans or races descended from each of the Primordial Bogg.
Bogg can also send out their individual consciousness into any plant life they’re telepathically connected to, as in within the magnetic field of a planet. This bond is so strong even if their individual body is completely destroyed their consciousness can channel into other plant life. There might be memory loss. They might be less connected to the Radix Mundi for a while. But they’ll survive, and given time and nutrients they’ll grow, and fully recover, even if no biologically original tissue remains.
Bogg have memories much longer than any humanoid lives, but far shorter than their own lifespan. They celebrate when they’ve forgotten their germination as a kind of passage into maturity, and from then on they simply live as if they always were. From their perspective they have simply always been, and always will be.
Bogg are fascinated by animal mortality. They don’t have the phenomenon of death like animal life does, so they never get a sense of completion. For them all Bogg life is an outgrowth of other Bogg life, which they feel viscerally connected to, so the individual dying isn’t experienced like death. Canvasses never get put in frames because their artists never stop painting. Manuscripts never get sent to publishers because their writers never stop writing. They have no concept of religion or mythology, because they have neither an after life, nor a creation to worry about. They have no dating or courting rituals because their species does not biologically reproduce. It merely is. They have no families, no funerals, no annual holidays or celebrations. If they ever find each other they share an overwhelming sense of harmony. In fact, two distinct Bogg can conjoin into a single Bogg, and separate again. The study of even the simplest elements of their culture would take 100s of human life times to understand. They keep their origins a closely guarded secret.
If Bogg bother interacting with animal life they mostly just observe, trying to understand how death affects animal cultures. An entire animal lifetime seems like a blip to creatures as ancient as them, so in an effort to observe the moment of death they sometimes poison animals with a toxin that stretches the moment of death so they can more easily observe it. What they don't realize is that in studying our mortality they are killing their subjects.
The subject is offered a genetically altered fruit, which probably just seems like a bush they’ve never noticed before. The berries put the subject in a state they mistakenly call 'Elongated Mortality' or 'Elmo Berries' for short. It's a little lavender berry they give to all their death testing subjects. The infected person was given perfect physical health (even regrowing missing organs) and peace of mind, but only for the duration of the trip.
The names of Bogg in their native language are insufferably long affairs, and virtually unpronounceable by most humanoids. Fortunately, they tolerate nicknames when they associate with other races. But these nicknames are often a bit surreal by human standards. An amalgam of terms alien to them to convey concepts alien to us.
Agarian (
speaking, sentient mushrooms who could alter their size and number of limbs.
Lacked a visual system, they could smell and hear, feel the movements of the air.
They only required a modicum of sunlight to survive.
Traveled through space as giant seedlings, searching for worlds to colonize.
Stank to the Human nostril.
Ergesh (
Evolved from plant based organisms on their swampy homeworld.
Droopy slimy appendages of various lengths and sizes.
Did not have faces. A number of the smaller tentacles were actually “opticstalks.”
Could not get intoxicated, drugged, or poisoned by most substances.
Ergesh personal names were long affairs, Fortunately, they tolerate nicknames.
Their society has no class, no discrimination, no wants, no crime.
Amazing bio-technology which included living starships called Starjumpers
Black Orchid (
Force-sensitive plant that speak telepathically with Force-sensitive people.
A serum/virus for the purpose of eternal life.
Neti (
Shapeshifting sentient plants with tough gray skin similar to plant bark.
Multiple thin branching arms, and thick body trunks.
Average life span of several thousand years.
Seeds remained dormant for more than a thousand years before germinating.
Sylphe (
Green skin. Flowers grew on their heads that changed with their emotions.
They communicated with pheromones that were used to influence other species.
Powerful telepathy, which allowed them to communicate at interstellar distance.
Zelosian (
Keep their origins a closely guarded secret and were commonly misidentified.
Their blood was a green chlorophyllic sap.
Muscles were cellulose fibers
Alcohol had no intoxicating effect.
Vervoids (
Artificially created humanoid slave plant
Pined for freedom and decided to destroy their oppressors. (Like plant Kaylon)
Short tendrils at the ends of their "arms" that shoot poisonous darts.
Krynoid (
Large, carnivorous alien plants that could be thought of as galactic weeds.
Snow and ice slow them down and render their pods inert.
Had an undefined anatomy.
Require animal proteins while young, but can survive on photosynthesis later.
Able to channel their power into other plants, at least within a mile radius.
Krynoids couldn't live in environments with high carbon levels.
Affected by high-pitched noises, allowing the host mind to reassert itself.
The oldest species in the universe.
Observing and compiling knowledge on all aspects of the universe without interference.
Innate ability to achieve virtually any effect desired, including augmenting personal attributes, time and space manipulation, molecular manipulation, energy projection and a range of mental powers.
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Promenade / Magacephallus (Space Whales)
« on: September 08, 2019, 08:36:43 PM »Captain Marque intercepts a Kaylon communication describing a Megacephalus sighting and rallies his crew to go on a hunt to harvest it’s meat.
Megacephalus meat is a priceless delicacy thought to have age reversing properties.
Kaylon reports multiple encounters but consistently fail to exterminate them because the Megacephalus simply “ceases to exist.” Or disappears in a poof of tachyons. (Dr. Who)
Captain Marque degradingly nicknamed the creature the “Cash Cow.”
Captain Marque is fanatical like Ahab, but the crew is ambivalent about the mission. Some are also eager to pursue the profitable venture, but many, including Reprisal, disagree.
Quartermaster Reprisal believes the Union should be abolished, as do all pirates, but she agrees with the Union’s hands off policy, and would rather protect the Megacephalus.
Many believe the Megacephalus is mythical anyway, and they don’t want to waste the ship’s time and energy chasing the Loch Ness Monster of Kaylon space.
The Precariat negotiates safe passage in Kaylon space, because pirates have been anti-slavery since the golden age of piracy on Earth. Kaylon are persuaded pirates are a fringe psychoclass of biologicals that poses no threat. (5LM: First Contact Protocol)
Note: I see this as being two things either a cutscene maybe before getting the mission order. Or possible a animation including youtube. I feel like this needs to be before the mission invite or intro.
Turns out the space whale is telepathic over extremely large distances, especially to gelatinous lifeforms like Yaffit, who feel it like a spooky resonate vibration. And it’s calling to the player.
It’s an ancient benevolent creature that’s been alone for so long it’s decided to die by orbiting a dying star (TNG:TinMan). This confuses the moral obligation to protect it.
It’s death song reaches into deep space, and players will be able to navigate to it once they realize what the signal is.
Any ship that comes close to the space whale will be caught in it’s tachyon wake, and suffer power loss as it fights off the space bacteria on it’s hull.
Exposure to the electrophoretic waves created by the Megacephalus could cause gelatinous lifeforms like Yaffit to trigger their mitosis process. (VOY:Elogium) Probably something it does to encourage the bacteria to procreate.
Any successful weapon strike, even on minimum power will be lethal to the space whale, and trigger the ending.
Whether it’s the pirates hunting the Megacephalus, or the Union hunting the pirates we all end up finding the wild Megacephalus eventually. This space whale is a bright pearl white reflective color that is blinding to look at in the sunlight.
For pirates it’s a question of whether or not to mutiny and overthrow the captain. Perhaps even turning him over to the Union in exchange for clean record.
If the player sides with Reprisal over Marque there could be a treaty with the Union where the Precariat adopts the Union’s endangered species policy in her Pirate Code.
The Union player pursues the Precariat, but learns that everything they know of pirates is propaganda. So, they’ve got to decide whether or not to arrest the pirates or let them go.
Duty says arrest them, but honor among captains says let them go. If the player lets them go they’ll have a gentlemen’s agreement with the captain of the Orville, but not the Union.
In the end, whether they’ve attacked the Magacephalus, or the star begins to go supernova and the corona of the star changes color the Magacephalus will die, and the player will receive a psychic song of it’s willingness, and even gratitude about moving on, but once the consciousness is gone the body begins to ungulate in great waves, and spin, at which point we learn that Magacephalus reproduces by macro cell division, similar to Yaffit’s species, and while the ancient white whale was preparing for it’s death, and has died, that’s because the two black whales it left behind are now infants, playing the glowing bacteria for the first time. Any attempt to communicate or foster them in any way is pointless. They both hear a distant whale song and disappear into the time stream.
Note: This sounds like it could be a mission
Purrgil
Massive creatures that live in deep space. A cross between whale, squid, and stingray.
Natural ability to fly through hyperspace if they inhale stores of Clouzon-36 gas.
Habit of wandering into hyperspace lanes, crashing into starships near their flight paths
They had four large hind tentacles, a single dorsal fin, and two side fins.
Whale-ships: Equipped with inhabitable armor, made into a base, and a fleet of ships.
Star Whale: Galeen
An ancient and benevolent species that often rescued spacecraft in distress.
Many flippers and tentacles down their stomach. Smaller, spiked tendrils on their back.
More intelligent than humans, and they could live for thousands of years
AUDIO: The Song of Megaptera
The Sixth Doctor sought to end the whaling of these creatures by the Toothons
Galeens transmitted their song as radio waves, and used solar sails.
Got nourishment from its own internal self-sustaining ecosystem.
The Sixth Doctor described a Galeen as "basically a micro-planet".
Digested time particles in dark matter so internal organs were "eternal organs"
Survivors of crashed ships could live inside them for generations
TV: The Beast Below
To lose a pursuer, a star whale could dive in time which left a trail of tachyons.
Their voices were too high-pitched for humans to hear.
They were capable of bioluminescence and had glowing patterns.
They fed on solar power from the stars they passed.
Legend: Guided early space travelers through dangers on their journeys.
PROSE: Pack Animals
Degradingly nicknamed Cash Cow
Kept as a re-growing source of meat.
AUDIO: The Widow's Assassin
The royal hall on planet Hurn was constructed from the skeleton of a star whale.
Psychically sensed the terror of children and could not bear to hear them cry.
They built a ship on its back and carve open its brain to torture it into moving.
This features a whale in space... although only briefly.
Chitauri ships in are huge weaponized cyborg Space Whales.
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Promenade / I've hidden some things in Manitou Springs
« on: September 05, 2019, 04:50:15 PM »
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Communication / Fourth Letter of Reprisal - Draft
« on: August 21, 2019, 01:58:32 PM »Tsar Date: 45:941:955
Pirates are confronted with all the same villainy as those on land. Theft and fraud. Even murder and sexual assault. Most landlubbers can’t fathom how we supposed “scoundrels” manage to avoid protracted chaos in our floating society. But, pirates know that the secret to thriving outside the Crown’s domain lies in embracing the Crown’s greatest fear… gossip.
The Crown delights in putting down an occasional dawn revolt, and then casually executes a dozen political prisoners before breakfast. But gossip, rumor, derision… these are what the Crown fears from the black. Even the casual skuttlebut can induce paranoia when power is tenuous. Gossip has the power to erode legitimacy, which in turn decentralizes influence. Gossip has the power to topple empires.
Among pirates your credibility is everything. Cultivating renown can expand your opportunities, shield you from false claims, and even earn you a ship and loyal crew. But infamy can get you ostracised, blacklisted and thrown in the bilge. However, libelous allegations from the Crown are practically a resume at sea.
Your reputation is an intangible asset that doesn’t belong to you. It’s the impression of you in other people’s minds. It’s what people say about you behind your back. You can’t control it, but you can influence it.
At the center is your identity. Your character. Your sentiments, ambitions and vulnerabilities. This core is yours alone, but it is invisible to others. Around that core will begin to crystalize your competence. The sum of your life experiences. All your successes and failures. These amount to an expertise. A gift you have to offer the world. But if you don’t show your competence, if you don’t show your character, no one will ever know your value. This is where many pirates go wrong. Competence requires presentation if you hope to stand out on a crew full of equals. Your presentation is all the outside world sees, and all they have to form their opinion.
On top of your character, your competence and your presentation, is your reputation. It’s the constellation of equilibria reached in much the same way as a market discovers price. Competing claims and signals. Whispers and circumstances. Reputation is built on complex and dynamic layers. Beginning with every individual’s method of earning and granting respect, and progressing to informal customs that develop in every community.
Generally speaking, reputation has two prominent features. The first is trust. Who do you trust and why? Trust relationships form a liquid social fabric, where one’s good standing rises and falls according to public opinion. With trust, cooperation and harmony are possible. Without it, we are derelict.
The second is behavior, which includes all the complexity of every individual. Our opinions of people are far more than a measurement of trust, but are instead comprised of a richly textured web of nuanced behavioral expectations. And these subjective attitudes about us will fluctuate constantly.
Some semblance of these methods inevitably emerge as individuals bootstrap their way up any crew. We simply can’t help but share our stories and observe patterns in our repeated interactions. And so long as there’s no interference with such pirate communications, a simple whisper campaign can have
incredible power to correct antisocial behavior. A time-bandit known for distracting a working crew is free to do that, but they may soon find no one aboard who wants to engage with them. Taken further they may find no crew willing to sail with them, and they’ll have no options but to launch their own ship (offering wages that reflect their unpopularity), or return to land.
Pirate communication is only half the solution. It allows information to travel freely but it doesn't distinguish truth from falsehood. We concede that spreading falsehoods is a gross immorality, but we can’t curtail speech as the Crown does. A pirate has the freedom to say, print and disseminate whatever they wish. Honest pirates must verify rumors, so the credibility of liars is itself subject to the forces of our social software. As a result, pirates are far more skeptical than the servile landlubber who believes whatever the Crown tells them to believe.
Informal reputation systems were sufficient when pirates interacted face-to-face. Only those who accomplished great feats earned renown beyond their own crew. But today, technology allows us to interact peer-to-peer, spanning the seven seas and beyond. Such infrastructure can streamline reputation systems with laser focus, but such a database may be used as evidence of “criminal conspiracy” in the hands of the Crown.
It’s crucial that competing services in this field include some immutable features that allow us to accumulate meaningful social capital with resilient networks that enable fellowship. Such a program must be designed for interstellar communication in a galactic parley. It must be resistant to artificial status inflation, and possess virtually no obstacles to entry. Such a tool must be a peer-to-peer protocol that relays data outside the traditional communication infrastructure. It must run without centralization and engage many niche platforms, and aggregate relevant data according to every user’s preferences. It must be grassroots, transparent, and subject to reputation itself. This limits the ability of hostile parties to spread lies without risking their own reputation as a truth-teller. But, all the most sophisticated features are irrelevant, if the reputation market isn’t accurate.
Pirates must find a way to enjoy enough anonymity to protect them from the Crown, while also maintaining a consistent identity to ensure their reputation is their own. Anonymous markets are already able to collect pseudonymous reputation data on all users. Aboard many ships the manifest is available to the entire crew, and often other vessels, to ensure that individuals have a consistent identity that is horizontally visible to other pirates, while remaining invisible to the Crown.
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Promenade / Ye Olde Parlance
« on: August 21, 2019, 10:13:17 AM »#Avast: Stop and pay attention!
#Aye, #Arr: Yes (#AyeAye or #Yarr for 'Hell yeah!').
#Barker, #Hawker: A vendor who calls customers to their wares.
#BeachComber: A landlubber who makes their living selling to pirates, or a pirate who makes their living selling to landlubbers.
#Belay: Halt! To ignore a command as in 'Belay that order!'
#Boatswain, #Engineer: The officer who maintains and repairs the ship.
#Booty, #Loot: Treasure, usually liberated from the Crown.
#Brigandage: The life of plunder, pillage and robbery.
#Bucko, #Matey, #Heartie: Escalating terms of affection among pirates.
#Carouser, #GrogBlossom: Someone known for drunken imprudence.
#ChildOfTheBlackBanner: A young pirate born and raised among pirates.
Coffer: A treasure chest
#Crimp #Shanghai: To press gang someone into serving the Crown against their will, or the one who crimps.
#Cutlass: A short, heavy sword with a single-edged curved blade that pirates favored in close quarter battle.
#Cutpurse: A thief who steals from pockets or purses in public places.
#FeralLife: To live alone on land outside the Crown’s domain without going to sea.
#FirstMate, #Quartermaster: The deck officer who assumed command if the captain is incapacitated. Usually in charge of rations and crew relations.
#Galley: An onboard kitchen, usually staffed by a contracted chef.
#Gibbet: A metal cage where scallywags are displayed as a warning.
#Gunner: The officer who operates the cannons.
#Nay: No. Nay means Nay. Nacho booty!
#Hazzah: Prost! Wassail! L'khaim! A barbaric yawp of merriment.
#Helm: A tiller or wheel and any associated equipment for steering a vessel.
#Keelhaul: Dragging some vile scallywag across the bottom of the ship with a rope to be lacerated by the hull's barnacles or drowned.
#KingsShilling: A dollar, also known as a Federal Reserve Note. To "take the King's Shilling" is to accept payment to serve the Crown's hostilities.
#Kraken, #Leviathan: Sea monsters.
#Landlubber: A lazy scoundrel too proud of their flag to live a pirate's life.
Maroon: To abandon a scoundrel on a deserted island with no supplies, which was a common punishment for a mutineer (or a captain, if the mutiny succeeds).
#MonkeyJacket: A short jacket which conceals a pistol.
#Mudhook: Bureaucratic drag. The long delays and surprise fees which characterize all dealings with the Crown.
#Munificence: The Crown’s lavish generosity upon its allies. Municipal beneficence.
#Mutiny: A bottom-up resistance against corrupt authority, as in a pirate belaying a captain that violates the pirate code.
#ParleyVest: Formal garb to wear during negotiation, especially between enemies over the terms of a truce.
#Parrot: Literally any pet on board.
#PiecesOfEight: One eighth of a Bitcoin.
#Pillage, #Plunder, #Taxation: Theft.
#Pirate, #Buccaneer, #Corsair, #Freebooter, #Hacker, #Swashbuckler: Paths of piracy. Commerce, Adventure, Transportation, Energy, Encryption, and Activism respectively. Not an exhaustive or definitive list.
#PirateCove: A hideaway or lagoon where a pirate can make a sweet trade away from the eye of the Crown.
#PirateUtopia: A pirate cove where the grog is strong, the markets are free and the associations are voluntary.
#Privateer: A mercenary of the Crown granted a charter of incorporation. A public/private partnership between Crown and contractor. Not a pirate!
#Privy, #Head, #Latrine: Bathroom.
#PrivyMonster a beast that lives in the privy and eats children.
#PrudentChild: A savvy young pirate born on land but thought wise enough to be granted a right of passage.
#Royal Alliance: The symbiotic relationship between the Crown and its chartered Privateers.
#Sailmaster, #Navigator: The deck officer in charge of keeping the maps, and plotting a course.
#Scallywag: A collector of taxes, or any bilge rat who pays them.
#Scuttlebutt: Rumor, gossip, derision, whispers, ‘water cooler talk’
#SeaDog, #OldSalt #OG: An experienced pirate.
#SeaShanty: Work songs that are sung aboard a ship.
#SharkBait, #Apprentice: Some young salt learning the sweet trade from some old salt.
#Skullduggery, #Hornswaggle: Unscrupulous behavior, trickery, underhandedness, chicanery, fraud, monkey business.
#Invisible Hand: Traps in the Crown’s bureaucracy designed to catch dissidents.
#Savvy: Possessing shrewdness, practical knowledge, and the ability to make good judgments.
#Slop: Perishables sold to fellow pirates. Used as question to ask, “Do you understand?”
#Spontaneous Order: A social order that emerges from the voluntary interactions of individuals.
#Surgeon: A doctor aboard a pirate ship.
#Swabbie: A deckhand who mops the deck like a janitor.
#Sweet Trade: Reciprocal respect of an individual's claim to life, liberty and property, enabeling participation in the trade of piracy.
#SwingTheLead: Get to the point. The opposite of 'bury the lead.'
#Swag: Merchandise sold to beachcombers and landlubbers.
#Undertow: The demand for goods prohibited by the crown.
#Waggoner: A sea atlas or a book of charts and sailing instructions.
#WaywardLife: The life of a pirate who floats wherever the wind blows.
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Communication / Reputation Research
« on: August 20, 2019, 11:06:56 AM »8
Promenade / The First Letter of Captain Kid
« on: August 19, 2019, 10:18:19 PM »I was only nine when your privateers came for me. Your goons boot stomped our door and ripped us from our parent’s arms. You told us our parents were “dangerous criminals” and said you had our best interests at heart. That your privateers would protect us and take us someplace safe. Now I know that you are a liar.
You took my little sister, Prudence away from me. I was all she had left. We were split-up and I was spirited away to a strange land, and given to strangers. Given to privateers you paid to guard the kids you crimped for your Royal Alliance. You offered them more money if they branded me with some disability or mental disorder. So, within a month I’d been stuck with more shots, and force fed more pills then I can count. I was being erased by your notions and potions. These psychos you propped up as my protectors enrich themselves while taking pleasure in my abuse. I knew if I didn’t escape there would be nothing left of me.
Mom and Dad never hurt us. All they wanted was a better life than you allowed. They were teachers in your system, and saw first hand how it destroyed young minds with monotony and manipulation. Mom and Dad just wanted us to have a real education. To teach us the truth, and let us see the world as it is. They knew your system was designed to foster conformity and dependence, but they were also landlubbers determined to change your system from within. The moment they showed even a mustard seed of progress, you labeled them dissidents and enemies of the Crown. Their only fatal error was taking half measures.
I wasn’t going to repeat their mistake. I ran away as far as land could take me. You declared me a fugitive, but what was my crime? Being a child? I searched for Prudence, but no one would help me because landlubbers are punished for helping kids without asking for your permission. So, every question I asked, every fragmented record, every leaf of paper from your system was a trap designed to send me back to the leeching privateers. People say it takes a village when they really mean it takes a Crown.
I will never ask for your mercy. You have none. Prudence was lost, and I was alone in your sick society. And sick societies produce sick people. I had very few options, but no matter how desperate feral life got, I knew anything was better than being treated like a domesticated animal.
In those days I was so sunk in your chemical fog that I thought that I would rather die than grow up. I wanted to burn down the whole adult world just because you were in it. But now my mind is purged of your alchemy, and you don’t get to tell me what to do! I am free because I say so!
At the edge of your jurisdiction, in a secluded coastal lagoon, I met a band of kids who were born under the black banner. They weren’t like landlubber kids. They were thoughtful and worldly. They knew who they were, and what they wanted to be. They weren’t just kids, they were carpenters, and musicians, and engineers. We spent the day collecting sand dollars and racing hermit crabs. As the setting sun turned the sky red they got ready to shove off. Before they sailed they took me aboard to meet Captain Swan, and once she saw that I comprehended the decision, she offered me the right of passage aboard her merchant ship.
At sea I saw how much was possible beyond your grasp, and I eagerly adapted to this wayward life. We sailed through lightning storms over a primordial ocean, and saw the cherry blossoms sprinkling on the floating markets of Thailand. I met pirates possessed of a powerful moral outrage toward everything you represent, but who didn’t let it hinder their passion for life. I met child prodigies that had never tasted your predation. But most importantly I found that pirates honored my autonomy and property regardless of age. On land I was expected to serve the desires of your Royal Alliance, but at sea I was finally at the helm of my own life.
I became a pirate’s apprentice. I served as a deckhand while I learned the sweet trade from the crew. My back got strong, my mind got sharp, and in time I even acquired a modest booty of my own. I learned peaceful and voluntary means of dispute resolution. I learned to defend myself from a larger attacker. But I also learned that the abuse I suffered by your hand was not unique. The uncomfortable truth is that your entire calloused and draconian system runs on violence. Well, when you treat an entire generation this way our minds begin to dwell on revenge.
You and your privateers claim to be the protectors and advocates of children, but only when it serves your lust for power and pleasure. When you see fit, we are thrown into prison-like indoctrination centers where we are open targets, deprived of any self-defense. Then, when it’s expedient, you arm young soldiers to fight your wars. You arm and disarm us as you wish, and until now we’ve been too naive to stop you.
The simple message of the Letters of Marque was hard to deny. A pirate decides their own course. Anything less is anti-valid. Don’t hit people or take their stuff. We stand up for ourselves, and band together in defense. No one on a pirate ship is more equal than others, not even captains. But I wasn’t certain the pirate’s life was for me until I read in the Letters of Reprisal, “The temptation of vengeance can not satisfy the hunger for justice.” She explained how you use our resentment and outrage to turn us against each other, so I decided I had to temper myself. That’s when the fire inside me was extinguished at sea, when I set my heading on justice for my sister, instead of revenge against you.
I was accepted as a valued member of the crew, but I didn’t enter the limelight until I told them about Prudence. As word spread across the pirate network of my ambition to liberate my sister by any means, many children of the black flag rallied to my side. To my surprise, no adult on any crew denied them the right to pledge themselves to my cause.
My advancement was never hindered by age among pirates. Captain Swan explained that her intention was to remain invisible to the Crown, but she had no desire or authority to stop us from leaving her crew, or even launching our own ship. Our objective was ours to claim, and our lives were ours to risk. Once our numbers were strong, and our coffers were full, we scraped together a meager fortune to purchase a modest vessel: The Emancipation.
With passion in our hearts, and freedom in our sails we raced toward land to shake the shackles of the children. You think you can exploit them because they’re too young to know better, but what happens when we expose your intolerable acts? What happens when we free their minds and show them you are unfit to exist? You cutpurse! You scoundrel! You scallywag! If you will only accept obedience or blood, I choose… disobedience. If you only slay dragons of your own creation, I am that dragon! We are coming to obstruct your injustices. Coming for your hierarchy and status. We are justice, and we are coming to free Prudence from your maw.
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Declare Your Independence / "Manuscrito, Por Favor?" by Vin Sniveltwitcz
« on: August 18, 2019, 07:36:42 PM »
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Promenade / Orville Needs Pirate Voices
« on: August 09, 2019, 06:55:40 AM »This is a bit of a Call To Action. One of the development team, Vivienne Anthony is looking for volunteers with microphones to voice some NPC characters in the game. This could easily be an opportunity to inject some piratey characters and lingo at the ground floor of the game.
You can reach Vivienne at
Check the Developers Channels Here:
Join the developer's Discord!
Developer Email
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