Nervous Pete
Posts: 6
2/7/2015
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Hello there. I bought Sunless Sea, because I had a beer and saw the trailer and was immediately charmed by its aesthetic and the entire notion of chugging along a vast, under-ground sea of inky despair and giant monsters. It seemed a lovable idea.
I've been playing it for around six hours now, and I have been greatly enjoying the game. I appreciate the incredibly atmosphere and world-building the sparse music and the evocative visuals conjure up. And the writing is so nicely judged! My one fear was that it would teeter into a sense of doom and gloom, of whiny emo awfulness. Instead, it's rather witty and agreeable. Just because a great city has been consigned to the hellish murk doesn't mean one can't have a good knees up down at the local ramshackle inn, or go quietly extremely off one's head with great dignity on one's own remote, semi-fortified island.
So the character building, writing, music, atmosphere, concept, goal and general style of play are all grabbing me. Excellent stuff. I'm writing stories with my brain as I'm playing, drinking it all in with my eyes and ears. Yes. Good stuff.
Just one thing.
What the hell am I doing? Because I've no real idea at all. I don't know if my progression is woefully retarded, standard or a smidge ahead standard as everything is so tricky to acquire. Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate the challenge as it does tie in with the sense of being one small captain against the odds and having to carefully judge every expedition. (And when you don't but somehow survive anyway, it's frequently hi-larious.) But despite having the singular feat of not having died yet (oddly can't wait to experience that) I've yet to upgrade the ship at all, buy anything nice for myself or generally purchase anything except food, fuel, repairs and the odd officer or hapless cannon fodder zailor. (Oops, there goes another one - stabbed himself in the eye whilst peeling oranges.)
I've begun to suspect that trading is pretty much a no-no in this game, as I can't find any real run that makes any sort of profit that wouldn't mean a slow, agonising and frankly tedious death of a thousand price cuts. So the secret must be in the quests. And here's the problem for me... I'm finding it so horribly, horribly obtuse!
I know it might just be me not getting it - in fact I suspect it is, because you lot all seem to be having plenty of larks. But I find it very hard to track the quests I've picked up or what I'm generally supposed to do. I know it's a bad idea story and atmosphere wise to blatantly sign-post things, but I have a horrible feeling that answers are to be unlocked through buying random things from the store and sailing into harbours hoping that this somehow prompts a response. And since most of my money goes on fuel and repairs with a little on supplies (steamed crab and bat stew is pretty morish) I find myself being reluctant to blindly buy things. I am making a wee bit of money with admiralty reports and whispering great game secrets, and bringing the odd tale for the antiquarian, but beyond that I'm sort of stumped.
Am I at all on the right track, six hours in? Or am I missing something blindingly obvious? I'm going to continue because it really is a beautiful piece of work, but this being my first rogue-alike I am finding it daunting in all its statty, quest item chicanery. But heigh ho, my engineer could get used to having wasp eggs for eyes, so what am I complaining about?
See you out there on the briny sea. Or more accurately, not. I turn off my lamp most times, guv'nor.
Oh, PS, a little description to a mate in an email enquiring about how I was getting on:
My character's a fallen priest who went down to the underworld and set sail for riches so he should never know the humble poverty of his monastic life again. He explores the oceans, bringing news and stories to the far flung outposts before returning with port reports for the admiralty, along with dangerous whispers of the great game being played by the strategic powers. He has a sweetheart at home and a child which he's acknowledged as his own but is too poor to raise, so he's leaving the waif to fend for scraps for himself. Of late, his crew keep being killed through sheer bad luck or errors of judgement - usually resulting from fishing things out of the water that weren't meant to be fished. He is however very proud that at no point - despite the dire circumstances - has he reluctantly resorted to cannibalism. And that one time when in sight of the home port he sacrificed several deck hands to the gods in exchange for magical fuel totally doesn't count against him. Totally allowed in the Ancient Mariner Rulebook. He's as honest as the day is long - if only because he got the crap kicked out of him and several of his crew killed through clumsily bungling his one criminal mission by selling the crate of lost souls entrusted to him at the wrong port. Now he has a happy crew of officers and is able to take on ships a little bigger than himself, but at night he wakes up screaming having dreamed about a giant eye in the roof of the world. Although tea with the three sisters usually helps him with that for a while.
He has sided himself with the rats against the guinea pigs.
He still has absolutely no clue what he's doing.
Oh! And if you want to see some reasonably interesting photographs on my photoblog, go to petetakespictures.com - it's what I do when I'm not out drinking, reading or wrapping my head around this.
Cheers!
Pete
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Nervous Pete
Posts: 6
2/9/2015
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Well hurrah!
After a seeming eternity of beating my head against a brick wall, things are beginning to come together. I scraped enough for a Salt Lion's deposit and began running goodness back and forth, which almost got me enough for town-house. Then something happened to my regular agents when only a mere one more run's completion from Iron Clad Will and Townhouse satisfaction, and I was all ready to hurl a whiskey bottle through the screen. But then a charming new contact appeared and after a harrowing adventure to a new land - encountering another mysterious port on the way - I had a happy new business deal.
True, pretty much everything about it is alarmingly sinister but I am happily confident that there can be no drawback to dealing with my new, terrifyingly perfect business partners. None at all.
And so I returned, after a near-run thing with a couple of crack pirate torpedo frigates and a quick drop off a shady fellow at a disreputable port. I found myself rolling in cash, if still nightmare-beset, and thus laid down the brass for a townhouse and the almighty Ironclad Will. I introduced my child to their new home and the nursery, whose charming crib is surrounded by wholesome scenes of a monstrous giant crab devouring ship's crews, a night-light with the glowing eyes of luminescent eels and a little dangling thing above the bead in the form of a chime-laden pickled squid for the happy urchin to play with at night. I can tell the dear tike loves it, as I heard the faint scratching on the door and a little mewling sound, which evidently was an affectionate sign of enthusiasm in relating their love for the wonderful room to me.
In the morning I related a tale of sunlit lands, and aside from my child and sweetheart's charming delight, I was moved to feel a great oppression lift off my chest. The nightmares remain, to be sure, but perhaps I can face them now.
I have also bought a new deck-gun, the better for getting at the tender meat of crabs. I plan a few admiralty runs and a little more quality time with my child and then... who knows?
Am loving this rather a bit more, now.
edited by Nervous Pete on 2/9/2015
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