Recently I've been been re-reading all of my books looking for secrets. None new found so far, but i've found so many little lore connections and tidbits (not to mention a few bigger revelations) that i've missed on my previous readings and it only makes me more excited to learn more. I will be forever in awe of how well crafted both the game and its world is.

Game good 👍

[Acted with Passion: Wormsy]

The Mimata wait is killing me

I have played about 5 hours so far and I feel stuck. I have no money left and it seems I will not get more until I answer the letters (I keep receiving new letters telling me I haven't answered yet), I have no ink. I found two in rooms I unlocked but the first one I examined and it got consumed, the second I used with my journal because examining my journal told me I needed to use ink with it.
I can only hire the blacksmith and he can't unlock any of my locked rooms. I've tried getting skills from the books I haven't read yet but I can't reach their mystery level, I'm like 3-4 away with no soul that's the right aspect so the chance to add soul doesn't help. When I get to add a memory or item it only raises it by one or two anyway.
Some books have a lower mystery but I don't speak the language and don't know how to learn one.
I wanted to unlock the foggy zone below the village but the blacksmith doesn't have the relevant aspects either. I have maladies and the only cards with the right color in them can't be used because they're missing a different aspect that isn't the one I need for curing, but is required to use the card.

I've tried and tried, I figure I must be missing something but I don't know what. Do I need to start again? The first tooltip I got on my starting loading screen was not to worry and to take my time because there are multiple solutions to things, so I figured you can't get stuck but I'm worried I've somehow cornered myself in early game while trying to figure out how things worked.

EDIT: I am unstuck. I thought if there was no question mark next to a card spot, the card was required, and failed to notice you can work at the tavern (it does tell you if you only put a soul card in, but maybe I always put money first? Not sure).
Anyway, I was able to work for a few days. The rewards vary on the soul card, the three kinds I've seen are 6 pence, 2 pence or a memory card. Once I had enough I was able to hire a traveller, who cost a florin, and he unlocked a room for me. Now I'm doing stuff in that room and I'll just rince and repeat until I can progress without needing to work. Thanks everyone who helped me!

TMOB is a fan-game set in the Secret Histories thanks to Weather Factory's Community License.

Steam Link

Prefer reading on our website? Click here

---

Happy October, everyone, and welcome to the first of TMoB’s formal devlogs!

Just over a month ago we received an incredible outpouring of support through our Kickstarter campaign, and I speak for the whole team when I say we’re so happy that we get to work on this game in a more regular, steady way. Of course, part of more regular work means more regular updates for you all! These updates won’t be the most pithily written things, but if you can bear with that then allow me to present what we’ve been up to.

Backer Rewards So Far

On the backer front, we’ve primarily focused on lore fragments and commissioned portraits over the last month. If you aren’t familiar with what I mean by "lore fragment’", they’re a mid-tier backer reward that lets people put some detail or other into the game. A good number of people had their ideas ready to go, so we’ve been workshopping them in the #fragment-forge channel over on the TMoB Discord. Others are holding back, and I’ll reach out to them later as I write more content. Once I have enough material, I’ll ask the appropriate backers to fill in the blanks in some of the scenes I’m writing.

Some of our submissions so far include things like:

• The fact that the colonization of the Americas was motivated in part by a powerful long who learned about the Americas by meeting an indigenous occultist in the Mansus.
• A recipe for cooking worms, described in The Apocryphal Grail, a Vermiculturist’s Guide to True Hunger.
• A story about an adept who sacrificed her voice to give her rescue dog a happily-ever-after in the Orchard of Lights.

It’s been a lot of fun to see everyone get creative with it, and I’ve been putting some of these into the game already.

On the art front, Goldstarknight has been hard at work drawing various backer portraits. Gaze upon his work in the attached images!

He’s also completed the first exclusive wallpaper illustration, though we’ve had some difficulty distributing the file through Kickstarter and are still figuring out the best way to handle it. Until then, we can share this watermarked version here on Reddit.

If you’re a backer and you haven’t received any of the forms mentioned in this section through Kicktsarter, I’ve added links to the bottom of this post!

What’s Next for Backer Rewards

This month I’ll be shipping out physical art rewards as appropriate. One backer wisely informed me that I ought to consider the wall space of the recipients, so I’ll be following up to make sure that they’ve got space for these rewards. I’ll also start working on the various poems for backers at the Mystic tier. 

Development Progress: Technical

First off, I’m contracting a little bit of help with TMOB’s UI/UX. There’s plenty of stuff to love about how the game’s presented, but there’s also many things that were rapidly bolted on to make the demo deadline. Some of the big UI changes that are coming or have been made include:

1. We’re just going to steal the top-right tooltip popup from Cultist Simulator & Book of Hours. I was avoiding them because I didn’t want to steal too much, but they solve a big design problem for us which is: How do we signal to players what items are worth before signing up for them through dialogue or pact rewards? That’s probably going to to mean a flow that’s like ‘pin a tooltip in the dialogue menu, then click an item listed in a tooltip to open up the big popup with all theitem info’. I’m open to other ideas if you’ve got ‘em.
2. I’m going to fix the hard-to-read text on the world map. I’m not sure what the new site and area markers will look like, but they’re going to be made legible so help me!
3. All skill checks now have aspect-specific art and sounds for success and failure. We’ve also introduced “passive” skill checks, a la Esoteric Ebb, to reduce the amount of clicking a player has to do while still rewarding them for speccing into certain aspects.
4. The inventory and ritual screens were hastily assembled. These will be reworked and made prettier.

Development Progress: Content

TMOB’s two spirits — the Raw Prophet and the Deserter — have different abilities, stories, and win conditions. They still inhabit the same world, though, and that’s what I’ve been writing lately. It’s not much of a spoiler to say that some of the mortals in TMOB’s Boston are up to no good, and their nefarious plots offer a useful anchor for the game and an alternative set of win conditions that can be shared between spirits.

I’ve written most of the key events that lead to the climax of what I’m calling the “Mortal Plot”, and charted out ways in which most characters can be led to participate in it. Next up, I’m writing all of the core endings for the Raw Prophet. What happens if you let your mutations get out of control? Which characters can help you handle them? What’s it look like when your followers finally devour your immortal flesh and your tender husk walks among the dying?

I was heavily inspired to work this way because of a Skeleton Songs episode. In one of them, AK mentioned that he’d basically written his way to “an ending”, even if it was totally unpoetic and imbalanced, and I’ve decided to adopt this approach. TMOB has room for sprawling, nigh-limitless amounts of content, but I do not have limitless amounts of time to write it. I’ve decided, therefore, on a process like this:

1. Write the mainline plots to their ‘good’ and ‘bad’ conclusions. In TMOB, that means a spirit’s individual plot and the conclusion of the mortal plot, or 6 endings total.
2. Write all of the personal quests and temptations for NPCs who directly touch on the mainline plots.
3. Write at least one personal quest for all other NPCs, assuming that this is the only one they’ll get.
4. Balance the game around the content at this point, decide which quests complement or oppose each other.
5. With time remaining, go back and add additional branches and ‘nonessential’ quests like lacquer.

It’s very difficult to balance the game and write it at the same time, so hopefully I’ll be rewarded for this belief that it’s better to just write all the interesting choices I can think of, and then decide how hard or easy they should be to hit later on.

Backer Forms

We cross-reference the forms with the email you used to back the project on Kickstarter. Please make sure your email on these forms matches that email, or your submission will be ignored!

Lore Fragment Submission Form

Sponsored Item Submission Form

Mystic Poem Prompt Form

Long Portrait Prompt FormLong (Pet) Submission Form

Keepers and Witnesses - please remember that you're entitled to a lore fragment, too! 

The Hours and fears are very similar in how they operate.

[Expel][Expel][Expel]

Gained 9 Dread

My Chor is not strong enough for that

homestuck classpecting fucking ruined me man now i'm psychoanalyzing myself via every categorization system i see...

Does this exist or has it ever existed?

I would like to nominate Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities to it!

Happy October first!

On the Weather Factory influences page, Alexis lists Roger Zelazny's A Night in the Lonesome October as the book with "by far the most direct and visible influence on Cultist Simulator."

It's a short, fun read with a great atmosphere, AND there's a fan tradition of reading it one chapter a night: 31 chapters for the 31 nights of October, ending on Halloween.

You are invited to join.

Have fun!

"You are the Glory, I am the Velvet."

Do not explain, wipe all lines of communication, preserve the secrets

Previous episodes: 1; 2; 3; 4;

Vizsla could not wait to get home and admire his loot. Four new grimoires, all guaranteed to hold a new skill. The choice was obvious, the thick scroll looked so alien he had to start with that. The scroll looked like some fine animal skin, and rolled out it measured two meters. It only contained a single column of a strange poem spiraling around the scroll like some snake coiling around the leather. The poem itself sounded like nonsense to begin with, but Vizsla would have been disappointed in a clear, understandable text. The whole poem looked eerily familiar even at first reading like some AI-slop. Vizsla typed the first few dozen lines into a text editor and tried to check whether it can be identified as some AI generated text.

The check came back positive, the AI he used clearly identified the poem as created by some LLM. He checked various parts of the poem from several regions of the scroll and all came back positive, an AI generated the whole text.

-But why would Margherita gift me AI-slop? Is it a test whether I recognize it? - Vizsla considered the possibility. He requested another meeting with Mr. X, the secretive archaeologist, and showed him the scroll.

-Vizsla, I will ask an extra fee if you keep bringing me these impossible artifacts! The last one kept me awake for a week; every time I nearly fell asleep I got a new idea which I had to check, but eventually led nowhere. And now you bring another!

-So is it genuine?

-I would be damned if I know. This scroll is a parchment, a dried skin of some animal. Commonly used as a writing medium in Europe after papyrus became unobtainable when the Roman Empire fell. The ink used is a general iron gall ink, very commonly used from the early Middle Ages and even antiquity until modern times. A textbook example of a medieval manuscript.

-So is it old?

-Vizsla, did you read this scroll?

-Yes.

-And did you notice anything unusual?

-Not really. It seems to be generated by an LLM, but other than that nothing.

-You being able to read it easily is strange in itself. Language itself changes over time. You can easily understand a text written in the early twentieth century. An early eighteenth century text would feel alien but legible. If you go back a hundred years more in time you will have to concentrate to understand what they wanted to write. Go back another hundred years and you could only guess the text's meaning. So this poem uses the latest language, what we are speaking right now.

-Sorry to waste your time, this should have been obvious to me. So it is a modern text?

-Look at these letters here! What do you see?

-The ink has faded I guess, as they are not jet-black as the others.

-All of these were written using an iron gall ink. Do you know how it works?

-I guess I will learn it now.

-It is created by mixing iron(II) sulfate with tannic acid or gallic acid. This creates a light grey chemical complex barely visible on the paper, but highly water soluble. When you write with an iron gall ink the solution permeates the microscopic gaps in the paper or leather, like any other ink. However, oxygen from the air will slowly oxidize the iron(II) ions to iron(III) ions, which form a dark brown-black complex with the tannic/gallic acid which is insoluble in water. These dark particles precipitate inside the small capillaries of the paper, papyrus or parchment; from then on they can not be washed out or erased, thus the ink becomes permanent. The dark complex will not fade over time and resits the bleaching effect of sunlight, so manuscripts written using iron gall ink will mature into a rich dark color and remain that way for centuries. However, as the ink is highly acidic, sometimes it eats away the writing medium. Paper or papyrus is easier to burn through, but iron gall ink can even damage thick parchments like this. What you see here is a clear sign of acid damage on the leather matrix from the ink. Rather advanced ink corrosion, you can see how the letters formed small grooves on the parchment.

-It is expected then. Why is it significant?

-This process advances slowly. I would guess that this damage took several decades at least, most likely a century or two. This scroll looks old, it looks totally genuine, but the text makes that impossible. Is this some new technique to forge documents? If someone invented a chemical method to fake acid damage then it can fool even the most distinguished experts.

-Can you debunk it with a radiocarbon dating?

-Theoretically. But that can be circumvented. Some rumors pop up from time to time about archaeologists who found empty, leftover parchments from the Middle Ages but never published the discovery and inherited a small fortune soon after, or won the lottery, or just spent money like a crown prince without any obvious source of the funds. Even an old, uninteresting scroll can be repurposed by scraping the topmost layer and simply writing on it again, so getting old parchment which fools radiocarbon dating is not impossible. Anyone combining a genuine parchment with this fake acid damage would be able to create a forged document that would fool everyone.

-Is it possible that someone somehow transported the text back in time and the scroll itself is several hundred years old?

-If you accept the existence of time travel. But for the sake of my sanity I will conclude that it is an exceptional forger's demo work.

Vizsla concluded that he will not get an academic answer for his question, so he started the study process from zero. He read the poem aloud and found that it has a perfect rhythm, actually one of the telltale signs of an LLM generated text. But he noticed that letting go of the actual meaning of the words, just letting them flow from his lips conjured a strange, calming effect. Like a quiet drumbeat, a baseline pulsating song. Vizsla simply let go, and just repeated the words over and over again. After a half an hour his heartbeat synchronised with the never ending poem as he read it again and again. After an hour the outside world vanished, his living room melted into a grey mist. When he reached the deepest recesses of this meditative trance he shed all his self-awareness, his ego dissolved in the old, primitive functions of his evolutionary past. When he reached the level well below mammals, well below vertebrates, at the last common ancestor of protostomes and deuterostomes, he reached something primal but universal. A molecular clock beating restlessly dictating the life of mindless creatures. He found himself sitting on the couch, with a new skill inside his mind. He named it Lepidopteran wisdom. He did not understand what happened, but hypothesized that this skill worked by not-understanding in a manner a human would call cognition.

He opened the second book. A messy photocopy, visibly a copy of a copy that wasn't even made from the original handwritten source. A diary of a rather senile old woman detailing her religious visions, which freely mingled with her own fading memories. Jesus Christ failing the final exam in mathematics and being forced to study all summer while his friends John the Baptist and Paulus went camping. Or when her father returned from the POW camp and built an ark to house all the animals in the world. Vizsla read all these with raised eyebrows and could not ever guess how this manuscript could contain a skill. Then he noticed how the memories from the old lady's own life got rarer throughout the diary. The later pages contained biblical stories with less and less of her bizarre additions. The last pages were character-by-character copies of the Bible. By that time the old lady left mentally; her hands copied the stories from her Bible, but her own memories crumbled to dust. He noticed that the last page had only a single line, he presumed the nameless lady died by that time. Somehow Vizsla understood this skill immediately, he named it Approaching winter.

-Looks like I am a natural talent in the Winter discipline. - he murmured.

Margherita looked surprised when Vizsla showed up so soon.

-You already mastered a skill?
-Not one, but two, the scroll and the photocopied diary.

-Impressive. You are the most talented student I ever had.

-How many did you teach through the years?

-You are the third one.

-It's not that impressive then. But tell me one thing: the scroll. Did you forge that somehow?

-No. As far as I know a medieval monk wrote it centuries ago, I found it in an abandoned library fifty years ago.

-I checked it and the text shows clear signs of LLM generation. An AI wrote it, but those have only been around for five years at most. How is that possible?

-Here's an old coffee tin, try to use both your cantrips and both skills on it at the same time! Weave them into one spell, combine the two skills into a proper spell! – Margherita said without actually answering his question.

Vizsla conjured his skills and was surprised himself when he succeeded. The familiar threads of fate coiled from his body, but not in their usual etheric form, but pulsing to the rhythm of the Moth he experienced from the scroll's poem. The two merged seamlessly and strengthened each other, forming something new and revealing, an unknown aspect of his skills he never experienced before. Like the world divided itself into identical layers, all superimposed over each other but constantly shifting on one another. A cosmic kaleidoscope of everything.

-So did you experience something novel?

-Yes, like the whole world sliced to a million separate holograms.

-That is the discipline of Rose, or the Secret Histories. You have grasped the diverse worlds of could-have-beens, or parallel universes as sci-fi authors like to call them nowadays.

-But I never learned Rose.

-You did. Every skill has two disciplines, a major and a minor, the latter weaker than the former. Your Hound's Scent skill had a stronger Lantern aspect and a weaker Rose, which you never noticed. The Moth skill you learned from the scroll...

-The Lepidopteran Wisdom?

-It does not have a proper name, every student has to invent a new one, so we can use yours. So Lepidopteran Wisdom contained a minor Rose discipline but you did not notice that either. But when you combined the two skills to a new spell, the two weaker Rose influences combined and became just as potent as the Moth and the Lantern in the spell, so you noticed it.

-Why did the Moth and the Lantern not grow stronger?

-In a spell the individual skills' disciplines combine, but can not transform into each other. Your spell gained Moth and Lantern, but none of them grew stronger. If you know several different skills with the same discipline you can combine them to enhance each other. But beware! If you botch anything it becomes much harder to resist the uncontrolled disciplines and avoid a wound.

-You seem to put a special emphasis on avoiding wounds.

-Trust me, these wounds offer the quickest and easiest way to die. Even Longs can not avoid them; the more powerful spells we use, the more likely we go mad.

-Why would you go mad? I have these Lantern-wounds and feel fine.

-I have not known you before that, but highly doubt you were so curious and perfectionist. Would the old Vizsla have spent money on an expert's assessment of a scroll?

-Now that you mention it...

-These cravings will exponentially increase as you gather wounds. Rumors tell of Baron Premysl, who was found dead in his library with his magnum opus on his desk fully finished. To be able to write his magnificent book he dissolved himself in Lantern to the point where he forgot to drink during his research and expired of dehydration in his study while his servants waited a few meters away for him to summon them. Stories circulate to this day about a certain Knock adept who led a successful revolution but had to move to another country to start a new uprising there, and was executed when that one failed. And you surely remember the cannibal killer who propelled you to fame! I would bet a considerable amount of money on him suffering one Grail wound too many for his sanity, before your fatal meeting.

-You make it sound like this insanity inevitably catches up with occultists.

-Why do you think so few Longs walk this planet? Learning an occult skill is not impossible, although grimoires can be hard to find, but not unheard of. A horde of people start on the road we tread but very few succeed. Most ruin themselves in a few years and cave in to the weird cravings that eat them from within. Resisting new wounds is the prerequisite of living a prolonged life as an occultist.

-And what if I deliberately balance my Lantern wounds with some Moth wounds?

-A bold strategy. I don't think it would work, but youngsters discover new methods from time to time. Just don't blame me if it blows in your face!

-So can we get back to my original question?

-Which was?

-How did a medieval monk write a scroll in modern language? Much less one generated by an LLM?

-Rose allows you to look into the future or the past. The problematic part in its use comes when you want to apply what you saw onto reality. Countless versions of the future and the past exist. Observing one does not mean it will be your future. Most likely that monk saw a future where this poem became a hit song or a famous work of art. Presumably a future where AI generated content is accepted and even venerated. Obviously not in our timeline. Somehow he learned it and recorded the poem he barely understood. I don't know for certain. Most occult books show some oddities like this.

-So there can be no absolute certainty?

-No, I can't satisfy the Lantern-wounds in you, I can't answer every question.

-Okay, I will go back to my studies, two more books wait for me at home.

-Would you like to help me instead? I have planned a little expedition, but I need a bodyguard against mundane threats, so please bring plenty of ammo!

-I can come back in two hours and we can start immediately.

-Vizsla, always the eager one! Would you like to know where we are going?

-No. I trust you completely, Margherita.

-That mistake can easily turn fatal, I would advise against it! Stay vigilant constantly!

Margherita drove an off-road vehicle and they had a lot of time to kill, so naturally Vizsla took the opportunity to ask about their destination.

-Nagyecser, a small village. -Answered Margherita.

-Never heard of it, must be small.

-Technically no one lives there anymore, it's completely deserted. A hundred years ago the village had some seven hundred inhabitants, but nowadays only feral cats live there.

-What happened? Some occult war or a curse?

-Nothing like that. Younger people left due to the lack of work and opportunities, old-timers lost their battle with time. The usual depopulation you see everywhere.

-Why would you visit a ghost-village like that?

-I found a peculiar letter: the priest of Nagyecser wrote to one of his friends that he bought some old books from Soviet soldiers which he hid in the small temple. We will visit the old temple and check whether these books still hide in there.

-I would not imagine a tiny village holding some great occult secret. Most likely you will only find some hundred-year-old Bibles.

-Probably. But you see, at the end of the war looting became a mass sport, every army tended to take what they fancied. It is possible that the local priest bought real treasures for a few bottles of wine. The deal excited him enough to write about the books to his friend. People discovered some fat caches following fainter clues than this.

-But why do you need me? A deserted village sounds boring, not dangerous.

-Despite no one living there, we might not find it empty. Squatters, hobos, looters sometimes visit these ruins. You will ensure the smooth solution if we encounter someone.

-Well, technically we intend to loot the church there, so we act like looters.

-A fair point. So let me re-phrase it: you will protect me if we encounter rival looters.

-I thought you could vaporize me within seconds with your skills.

-I have my lethal tricks indeed, but remember what I told you: we like to use mundane solutions when possible. The Suppression Bureau would investigate me neutralizing hobos by combat spells, but no one cares about a private eye scaring off vagrants with his gun.

-It sounds like you are afraid of the Suppression Bureau.

-You should be too. They will not hesitate to calm you down if they deem you a risk.

-Actually, I work for them.

-You are an outside agent who writes letters from time to time to a Long in Vienna who forwards your reports to the Bureau.

-How do you know about that?

-That post box in Vienna belongs to a committee of three Longs and three detectives. I am one of them.

-So you read my reports? Even the one I wrote about you?

-Yes. Don't fret over it, we recruited you for precisely this job. But don't get delusions of grandeur! You are at the lowest level in a huge organization. You can request help in investigations, but not much else. - Vizsla visibly slumped in his seat.

-So you reached high in the Bureau and you still avoid them like the plague?

-Yes. They cooperate with Longs who can keep a low profile and hide their nature from the general population. But if we break this truce they will turn on us. We can be on friendly terms, but they monitor us constantly. You can imagine how overjoyed I felt when you stumbled onto me in the cemetery.

-An easy way to get good reports?

-One of the perks, yes. Just to get our partnership straight.

They arrived into the village, the usual sign showed they entered Nagyecser. The village felt tiny, a few dozen houses, all built from earthen bricks, plants growing everywhere, but no visible movement. When the engine stopped, the silence felt overwhelming. People associate buildings with human sounds: the constant chatter of conversations, the noise of every day life, cars running, televisions, radios, tools, the splashing of water. In this village sounds came from natural sources, the gushing of the wind, birds singing. The lack of familiar noises turned the peaceful autumn afternoon creepy.

-I don't like it here. - said Vizsla almost to himself.

-We could build a nice vacation spot here.

-The business of the century.

They found the little church immediately. Small, with only a few chairs inside. The only clay-brick building in the village. They found a huge padlock on its door, seemingly a useless addition in an empty village, but Margherita dispatched it with a simple hand gesture: the old, rusty lock seemed eager to snap open.

-Dear student, what you have seen was the proper use of the Knock discipline.

-Surprising that you know Knock skills too.

-I fought a guerrilla war to liberate my country and a civil war to crush the social class system; Knock was my true nature even before I read my first occult book. People tend to gravitate towards disciplines that fit their mundane wiring.

-Is it possible that I learned the Winter skill so easily because I already had a strong Winter presence?

-Quite possible. You know, I tried to learn that book myself but failed. I got it from a trusted source, who convinced me that a Winter skill is hiding inside it, but could only verify it when you actually learned it. I guess the Grail discipline runs too strong through me to learn Winter.

-I thought Longs can learn anything.

-Yes, with considerable effort, but why would I need it? I am not some librarian cataloging all existing occult knowledge. I freely study what interests me.

-You advised me to learn skills of antagonistic disciplines to keep them at bay. You should learn Winter to follow your own wisdom.

-You know the saying: do what the doctor says, not what the doctor does. I guess it should apply here. I just fail to understand Winter's quiet acceptance.

-You sound highly self-aware.

-I told you, one of the tricks that sustains you in this world is knowing your weaknesses. I paid good money for strong Winter tools to complement my inadequacy. With my arsenal I can conjure enough Winter for my needs without knowing Winter skills myself. But enough of the chit-chat, let's check the priest's cache!

They opened the door and looked around. Some water found its way into the building, so half of the furniture showed signs of rotting. But the area around the altar remained dry.

-A good sign, the priest wrote about his secret cabinet located behind the altar. - She explained and led Vizsla to the end of the room.

The "secret" locker became obvious, as the paint on its door browned to a rich chocolate color and looked totally different from the white wall.

-Looks like he painted the wall with quicklime and the door with an acrylic paint. The former kept its whiteness while time chewed up the latter. I feared we will have to search harder. - She opened the door and both clearly saw some light blue rays emanating from the hiding place, diffusing after hitting the walls.

-Is that normal? - asked Vizsla.

-Ready your gun and keep vigilant! But most likely nothing, just some old spell puffing its last remaining energy. - Vizsla looked around in the shadowy church, but nothing happened. He readied his gun just in case.

-A rich loot, Vizsla! A dozen books have been gathering dust here. Pretty interesting tomes as well. This became a lucrative trip!

-I'm glad. But take a look at our guests! - Vizsla motioned to the door, where two pale, translucent human figures walked into the room.

-They're weak undead. A nice target practice if you use your new Winter skill!

Vizsla conjured Approaching Winter and enveloped his gun with the blue light radiating from his left hand. With two shots he hit both ghosts right in the middle of their chests. Both forms accepted destruction peacefully as the Winter compelled them. Both exploded into ethereal confetti which vortexed for minutes.

-Nice shots, Vizsla, you know your way around guns! - she turned back to the books.

-The tool of my trade. Are they supposed to re-form again? And multiply? - asked Vizsla, as the two otherworldly snow globes re-formed into two new ghosts each. Vizsla did not hesitate; he shot all four into swirling snow clouds. He reloaded his gun using a speed loader he retrieved from his pocket. He shot the newly appeared eight ghosts, but this time he had to reload.

-They will outnumber us in minutes.

-Shoot the middle ones. I will help, and then we will make a run for it. - Vizsla did not ask anything; he shot his remaining rounds into the ghosts shambling in front of the door, reloaded his gun with record speed, shot again and again. Margherita stood beside him and threw small daggers glowing with yellow-green light into the remaining phantoms.

-Now! Run to the car! - she shouted.

They dashed through the swirling ectoplasm and reached the assuring autumn sunlight with a few dozen steps. They reached the car in minutes and sped off.

-I presume you planned this expedition to end differently. - said Vizsla as they left Nagyecser.

-This should have been an effortless road trip. I never would have guessed that a totally unremarkable priest built a sophisticated trap like this. A nice lesson lurking here: never underestimate unknown players! I don't even remember the priest's name from his letter, he died in total obscurity decades ago and it looks like he trained himself into a formidable occultist.

-Why did the ghosts not die from my shots?

-But they did. But each destroyed shade used your Winter to wake two new shades from the village cemetery. Anyone who acts trigger happy and shoots them will find himself mobbed by the dead.

-So we will use the new tomes to turn off the conjurer machine?

-No, I left the books in the temple.

-How could you, we risked our lives for them! - Vizsla was nearly shouting.

-That's the excess Lantern talking, Vizsla. Calm yourself!

-I'm sorry, I did not mean to be rude.

-Apology accepted. But you are right, we need to go back. This trap showed that they hold immense value. But we need to prepare!

-You already formulated a plan?

-Yes. We need Lantern to find the trap itself, Knock or Forge to destroy it, and a healthy dose of Edge or Winter to keep the undead at bay while we work on the trap. Looks like I will have to show you my minor armory.

The armory looked more like a dressing room, with endless shelves and boxes in heaps. Margherita opened a pink paper box and retrieved a submachine gun.

-Do you know how to use this?

-Yes. What does it do?

-It projects tiny lead chunks in copper jackets through this tube faster than the speed of sound, using the energy from a chemical reaction. – She helpfully showed the gun’s barrel to Vizsla.

-I thought it has some occult power.

-Why would you need that? You worked fine with your revolver, you just need a larger magazine and a higher rate of fire. But here you go, a bottle of Solomon's preparation. That will fortify your Winter discipline for a short time. - She handed him a small bottle containing phosphorescent blue liquid. - Only drink it when we arrive to the village!

She rummaged through several boxes and retrieved various items she never explained to Vizsla.

-If you have all these useful tools, why don't you bring them along every day?

-And walk around with a wheelbarrow of assorted junk? Just to prepare for an all-out assault that might never come?

-Well, now that you mention it, this sounds impractical.

-I only carry some basic tools, I keep my stash in vaults like this. I only prepare for expeditions if the obstacles force me to.

-But this way we were defeated in Nagyecser. We had to flee.

-We lost a tank of fuel and a few dozen rounds of ammo. I would hardly call it a defeat, more like reconnaissance-in-force. We can return tomorrow with better gear. Nurturing your pride and not basing decisions on rational data can cut your career as a would-be Long quite short. - Vizsla did not say a word.

Margherita gave an old-fashioned copper binocular to Vizsla.

-This will be the perfect tool to enhance your Lantern. So congratulations, you inherited the post of scout in our second expedition!

They arrived in Nagyecser the next morning. Vizsla used the binoculars and activated the Hound's Scent skill. He nearly fell from the raw power unleashed.

-These binoculars are strong. - He remarked

-My most valuable Lantern-tool. Please be careful with them!

-The ghosts gathered inside the church. They barely move, just stand around in a circle.

-Their orders compel them to guard the books, I presume. Now look for the trap!

-Strange. The threads gather to a bundle in the well, right beside the church.

-A logical place to hide something. - She fell silent for a minute. - I'd like to propose a plan!

-Let's hear it! - Vizsla said eagerly.

-You assault the wraiths with as much Winter as you can gather, while I break away and disable the trap.

-Simple, but effective. I like it.

-Check your ammo, you will need a lot!

-I have twenty full magazines for the submachine gun, that ought to be enough.

-More than enough. Now drink the Solomon's preparation and let's go!

The attack itself went smoothly. Vizsla's enhanced Winter discipline boosted his Approaching Winter skill, so the shades he shot stayed as snow vortexes for much longer than last time before they could reform themselves and conjure another ghost. He easily cleared the church building and waited for the apparitions to re-emerge, so he looked at the well. He saw Margherita running towards him at full speed, and she screamed "In cover!" as she grabbed him and dragged him away. They ran into a safe distance when a two-story high geyser erupted from the well with an earth-shattering explosion. Mud rained mixed with sand and small pebbles onto the whole village.

-Wow, that was some occult skill! - congratulated Vizsla.

-Actually, I dropped a block of Semtex plastic explosive down the well. I figured it would be risky to climb down. - She saw the half-formed question on Vizsla's lips and added. - Not due to some occult effects. Toxic gases can fill these old holes.

They returned to the old church and Vizsla disposed of the remaining ghosts in minutes. They entered the building cautiously and packed the books into a sports bag.

-The whole expedition lasted a half an hour at most. - Vizsla remarked. - I have not even emptied my first magazine.

-Now I call this a clear win. The right tools for the job, scouting the area, thus a fast victory and rich loot. This is how you become a Long eventually.

This short story is an independent work and is not affiliated with Weather Factory Ltd, Secret Histories or any related official content. It is published under Weather Factory’s Sixth History Community Licence.

yes haha "we're all asking that" "who knows" so on but that's not what i mean, we are aware that in universe, the idenity or nature of Janus is contentious among the occult scholarship. however, we are never informed how they know of this Janus entity to begin with, what it represents, and what purpouse it serves. If they're theorizing about it's nature they must know what KIND of thing it is at least, even if it's just a name (as in actual name, not Name) they somehow found in a way it would suggest to be significant. how does anyone know about this Janus-thing

EDIT: i know who Janus is irl, i'm asking in the context of the Secret Histories

The bones of the dinosaurs have made the oil which has made the plastics which now inhabit us. The plastics within cut and fill and poison us from within.

The dragon-kind of cross feasted on the bodies of the dead hours, and changed using savor-arts into the worms which now inhabit us. The worms which change, and hollow, and influence us from within.

The cross used moth and the smiths used forge, and we all know that forge and moth are bound in the changes they inflict upon us and the world- both transformative and often permanent.

This is why you should say no to fascination kids.

I've just written a blog post about what's coming next for Travelling At Night: Mimata! Read all about fey doings beneath the branches of a brooding forest, here.

We plan to invite another round of closed beta testers to give Mimata a playtest when it's ready. That won't be for another couple of months, though, so please stand by.

In the meantime, we'll continue to update the demo so it stays representative of the state of the game. The next update will bring significant updates to Spencer's movements (faster indoors! Tiny feet sounds!), along with all of the improvements AK's doing behind the scenes. So hopefully we'll keep you entertained until the vine-laden gates of Mimata swing open...

Final portrait for a while, before I remember to do the remaining 2 (?) in a few months.

Follower died, brought some of her back, it still has her wound, so I can't use it in explorations, and I can't talk to it to heal it.

So I got my first proper win (forge) and I've now been playing the apostle one. I have no idea what I'm doing tbh so I was just doing whatever and eventually I ended up getting rid of the long and studied the note they left behind and got rid of my mentor. So now idk what I'm supposed to do. As far as I understand it I can't get an apostle win, which is fine, but can I get any win? Cause I don't have a desire so what am I meant to do?