Aug 17, 2023 7:17 am
✅ The Game System and Rules Version.
We will be using Alas for the Awful Sea, which is, in the writers' own words, "a story-focused tabletop roleplaying game about a ship’s crew navigating the remote British Isles. There, they face a world consumed with suspicion, sadness, and desperation." Now, the game won't be set in the British Isles, but everything else mentioned there is very much true.
✅ The Pitch.
This will be a game of Alas set within my own folklore/mythology-focused alt-history weird nautical horror (that's a lot of descriptors) world, which I've been working on for around two and a half years. Expect plenty of horror, especially of the body, psychological, and thalassic varieties. Also, if you're into mythology/folklore, whales, or anything to do with the early 19th-century, this is the game for you.
✅ Adult Content or Controversial Themes.
I do not expect the game to have any of your typical 18+ content, and I've oh-so-conveniently written a lot of the early 19th century's prejudices out of the world via the logic of "everything is terrible, if you want to kiss boys go ahead, I'm too busy dealing with the beasts from the depths trying to eat my mind." However, definitely warning for body horror, as well as generally weird uncanny stuff.
✅ Character Restrictions.
No restrictions, but I may create a couple of custom ship roles/descriptors to better fit the world.
✅ Game Duration and Post Frequency.
I'll definitely try to keep up a minimum of 3-4 posts per week, but in my experience interest tends to fluctuate, so more is better as long as we don't dip below the minimum.
✅ Specialized Software and Resources.
Access to some sort of copy of Alas would be preferred, but it's not very complicated so don't worry about it, I can assist if you don't have a copy.
✅ Player Experience Requirements.
Open to anyone, as long as you're capable of making interesting characters and weaving an interesting story!
✅ How to Apply.
Drop a comment, if I get more interest than I'm expecting, I may have to find out some way to pare things down. Or maybe I'll just choose based off of your vibe. So you better have an immaculate vibe.
✅ Welcome Marginalized Groups
Heck yeah, everyone is welcome, unless you're really mean and icorrigibly evil. Unredeemable villains are not welcome.
If you're interested in reading more about the world, here's a bit of a ramble I've assembled that gives you the world's basic vibe.
[ +- ] Lore Dump!
Rather than Alas for the Awful Sea’s typical setting of the remote British Isles, the game will be taking place in a setting of my own creation: the far more remote Pariah’s Tides. The Pariah’s Tides are a sea beyond the seven, a vast sunless ocean home to outcasts and rejects, the lost and forgotten. The story is almost always the same. A freak storm suddenly descends upon a ship, and after much whirling and howling, it is cast out, whole or in pieces, into ink-black waters under foreign stars. Just about anyone can find themselves subject to a crossing from reality into the nonsensical Tides, but they seem to primarily target those with few ties to the rest of the world. Some manage to find their way back out, bringing wondrous, unbelievable (and they are very rarely believed) stories of the land on the other side of the storm, but the vast majority live the rest of their lives among the myriad isles of the Pariah’s Tides.
But let’s cut the waxing and wane poetic for a second. What, precisely, are the Pariah’s Tides? Now, I certainly can’t give you the full answer, but I can tell you the general phenomena experienced by its inhabitants, and allow you to draw your own conclusions. Perhaps the first thing a newcomer to the Tides notices is the darkness. The Pariah’s Tides lack a Sun, and they have for a long time. Reason dictates that this can’t have always been the case, because while a missing Sun is understandable, an altogether absent one is entirely preposterous. This line of reasoning is only aided by the common phrase "since the Sun set in the North," indicating a time long past, which can be heard echoed across the Tides, whatever it may mean.
Instead of a Sun, the Pariah’s have two natural sources of light, if you can call them natural. The Moon lives in the South, emitting a dim, cold light that flickers and gutters like a candle in a breeze, going out every day (or night, which is which is a matter of some debate) until it starts back up twelve hours later. The Stars hang in the sky, and burn constantly, but proximity is a large factor in how much light they provide. After all, the Stars of the Pariah's Tides are much closer than those of the rest of the world. Where the Stars and the Moon cannot provide light, mankind must pick up the slack. This is typically achieved through the burning of whale oil, one of the Tides' most valuable resources, though obtaining it from the screaming, squamous denizens of the deep that bear little resemblance to actual whales is an entire ordeal itself.
Enough about that. The second thing that one would likely notice is that almost everything makes noticeably less sense than it ought to. Not no sense, mind you. In fact, some amount of sense can still be located within most occurrences on the Pariah's Tides, it's just better at hiding than it is in the rational world. What exactly does this mean? It means that, if things work out just right, you can meet your Aunt Myrtle for tea at noon, attend yesterday's meeting of the Tremontaine Intriguing if Slightly Abnormal Baubles Enthusiasts Club, receive tomorrow's mail, and still have time left to wake up in the morning. Time, space, common logic, it's all a bit fuzzy. Each city is like a maze of constantly changing streets, navigable only by those with a level head and a powerful gut feeling, and the same goes for the sea itself. Places just don't stay in place. Luckily, methods of subverting this unique problem have been developed, although there is always some amount of chance involved when traversing the Tides, or (god forbid) planning next week's luncheon for the Tremontaine Society for the Perusal of Texts of Eldritch Import.
The "Hub" location of the Tides, in which the majority of its stories take place, or at the very least begin, is the isle of Tremontaine. It is one of the many United Isles of America, a group of islands that entered the Pariah's Tides anywhere between forty and sixty years ago, following the failed American Colonial Rebellion of 1775-1783, and the subsequent swallowing of many of the colonies' major cities in massive storms that deposited them in the Pariah's Tides. A major port city, even before the great storm of 1783, it is a hub of tidal trade and seafaring activity, rivaled only by the UIS' capital isle, Gotham. This is where your journey will begin, and hopefully you'll at least manage to get out of it before your journey ends.
But let’s cut the waxing and wane poetic for a second. What, precisely, are the Pariah’s Tides? Now, I certainly can’t give you the full answer, but I can tell you the general phenomena experienced by its inhabitants, and allow you to draw your own conclusions. Perhaps the first thing a newcomer to the Tides notices is the darkness. The Pariah’s Tides lack a Sun, and they have for a long time. Reason dictates that this can’t have always been the case, because while a missing Sun is understandable, an altogether absent one is entirely preposterous. This line of reasoning is only aided by the common phrase "since the Sun set in the North," indicating a time long past, which can be heard echoed across the Tides, whatever it may mean.
Instead of a Sun, the Pariah’s have two natural sources of light, if you can call them natural. The Moon lives in the South, emitting a dim, cold light that flickers and gutters like a candle in a breeze, going out every day (or night, which is which is a matter of some debate) until it starts back up twelve hours later. The Stars hang in the sky, and burn constantly, but proximity is a large factor in how much light they provide. After all, the Stars of the Pariah's Tides are much closer than those of the rest of the world. Where the Stars and the Moon cannot provide light, mankind must pick up the slack. This is typically achieved through the burning of whale oil, one of the Tides' most valuable resources, though obtaining it from the screaming, squamous denizens of the deep that bear little resemblance to actual whales is an entire ordeal itself.
Enough about that. The second thing that one would likely notice is that almost everything makes noticeably less sense than it ought to. Not no sense, mind you. In fact, some amount of sense can still be located within most occurrences on the Pariah's Tides, it's just better at hiding than it is in the rational world. What exactly does this mean? It means that, if things work out just right, you can meet your Aunt Myrtle for tea at noon, attend yesterday's meeting of the Tremontaine Intriguing if Slightly Abnormal Baubles Enthusiasts Club, receive tomorrow's mail, and still have time left to wake up in the morning. Time, space, common logic, it's all a bit fuzzy. Each city is like a maze of constantly changing streets, navigable only by those with a level head and a powerful gut feeling, and the same goes for the sea itself. Places just don't stay in place. Luckily, methods of subverting this unique problem have been developed, although there is always some amount of chance involved when traversing the Tides, or (god forbid) planning next week's luncheon for the Tremontaine Society for the Perusal of Texts of Eldritch Import.
The "Hub" location of the Tides, in which the majority of its stories take place, or at the very least begin, is the isle of Tremontaine. It is one of the many United Isles of America, a group of islands that entered the Pariah's Tides anywhere between forty and sixty years ago, following the failed American Colonial Rebellion of 1775-1783, and the subsequent swallowing of many of the colonies' major cities in massive storms that deposited them in the Pariah's Tides. A major port city, even before the great storm of 1783, it is a hub of tidal trade and seafaring activity, rivaled only by the UIS' capital isle, Gotham. This is where your journey will begin, and hopefully you'll at least manage to get out of it before your journey ends.
