Pacific Ocean II: Trying-Out the Weird

5) Trying-Out the Weird
The Offshore Grounds, September 22-24, 1845

A) Hauling Up the Carcass
Once the boats and castaways have been retrieved, the whale is hauled to the starboard flank of the Quiddity and the cutting-in stage is lowered. The whale’s size and color are a subject of much discussion—“He’s 95 barrels at least, and black is pitch!”

Anomaly: The Scars
As described above, the body of the Raging Bull features signs of recent combat. His right flank is riven by a terrible scar, and a sizable chuck has been bitten from his starboard flipper. More strangely, a series of circular wounds twist around his hindquarters. Puckered into the blubber, each circle is about three inches in diameter. Did a giant squid wrap its prodigious tentacle around the whale? But what kind of squid has razor-sharp suckers?

Anomaly: The Patterns
Anyone coming in close contact with the whale’s skin immediately notices the blackness is not complete. The entirety of the whale’s skin is covered with a strange, hieroglyphic pattern that eerily suggests writing. Being matte-black in “coloration” against the whale’s more glossy black skin, the patterns are only evident under a certain slant of light. (It’s a shame the Quiddity doesn’t have UV lighting, or they’d be in for a surprise!) To most of the sailors, the patterns are just a curiosity. However, to any player character suffering from the Call of Dagon, they represent something else. Any player character afflicted by the Call must make a Sanity roll when studying the whale’s skin, modified by an appropriate penalty die:

Failing the roll brings no loss of Sanity, but instills the belief that the patterns are indeed some form of writing. Or at the very least, meaningful. This interpretation may be colored by the character’s individual interests: Lowell finds them mathematical, Rachel considers them magical, while Redburn wonders if they’re an ancient language.

Pynchon Takes Interest
No matter the characters’ degree of fascination in the whale’s skin, the first mate is certainly intrigued. Indeed, after studying the whale’s eye for a few moments, he orders Redburn, Beckett, or a player character harpooneer to flense a rectangle of flesh from around the creature’s right eye, and a second from its hump—“About a yard wide either way, and keep the skin on the blubber! Take it to the trypots, but don’t boil it ‘til I give the say-so.” Normally, questions directed at Pynchon are met with a withering stare, but if any player character is also seeing patterns, the Quéraude recognizes a fellow traveler and exchanges a meaningful glance. If their relationship has been positive, Pynchon might even reply, “Strange as it seems, these black whales…you can sometimes tell where a certain island is, our next destination, an uncharted island… Katau Peidi…” Veterans of the Quiddity’s last cruise recognize “Katau Peidi” as an inhabited island occasionally frequented by the Kingsport whaling ships.

Following Pynchon’s command requires a Whalecraft roll. If the task is performed by a character afflicted by the Call of Dagon, he’s forced to make a second Sanity roll on the previous table. If he already failed the original roll, a second failure suggests there’s a cartographic element to the pattern, almost like a map of some kind…?

The Map
Once the two pieces of blubber have been hauled on deck, Pynchon and Joab study them with great curiosity, murmuring to each other in low tones. Joab unrolls a private chart and makes a few marks. The officers trade a knowing look, then break off the meeting with curt nods. Pynchon points to the slabs of blubber—“All right men, keep these here for now. Once the pots are fired, toss ‘em in.”

B) The Cutting-In
Once Pynchon’s request has been carried out, the men begin the cutting-in. It’s unusually difficult, as the blubber is quite tough and oily, but soon Quakaloo (or Dixon) gets the blubber hook is in place. It may take a few Strength rolls at the windlass, but the first blanket piece tears away and the flensing proceeds.

Anomaly: Sharkless Waters
The cutting-in proceeds as usual, the whale’s body rotating as blubber is spiralized from gleaming flesh. The first player character to make a Hard Whalecraft roll makes an observation—the waters remain shark-free! (If no player characters notice this anomaly, a regular sailor pipes up—“Oy, where’s John Shark? Did he miss the invitation?”) It’s not exactly unheard-of, but it’s pretty rare, especially for a whale this size.

Anomaly: Foul Blubber
After a few hours have passed, something unexpected happens at the scarf: the blubber refuses to separate from the carcass. In order to part the reluctant blubber, the harpooneers working the spades must make a pair of synchronized Strength rolls. As soon as both rolls are made, the blubber splits with an awful sucking sound, and several things happen at once. First, the harpooneers are sprayed with a foul liquid; like rancid oil but worse. Second, the meat below the blubber is exposed as rotten—there’s something wrong with it, something diseased. And finally, something appears to have moved inside the whale’s meat—many small somethings, like mole crabs burrowing under sand to avoid detection. The foul spray requires Constitution rolls from both spademen, with failures resulting in painful vomiting.

Wrapping cloth around their faces and exercising a bit more caution, the harpooneers continue hacking off the blubber, but the entire blanket piece seems rancid. A Spot Hidden roll observes that this area corresponds with the puckered wounds around the whale’s hindquarters. Did the squid cause this corruption? Was the bull in pain? That might explain his maddened state…

C) Try It Out!
Pynchon orders the infected blanket lowered to deck—“Not all the way, just for a look-see.” As the rancid oil oozes onto the deck, the men wrap their faces with scarves. Pynchon directs Redburn and Beckett to hack a pair of crude books from the dangling blanket. The renewed stench triggers another wave of Constitution rolls. With a pained look on his face, Pynchon instructs Quentin and Matty Shoe to fire the trypots—“I don’t know lads, let’s try this and see. Maybe they’ll boil clean?”

The harpooneers fire the starboard pot and fork the books into the hot iron. As blubber meets scalding iron, the hiss of sizzling bacon fills the air. Suddenly the books explode with life, spewing forth dozens of small, shrimp-like creatures! They scramble up the sides of the pot, their bodies sticking to the iron with a terrible frying sound. Those that emerged from the top of the books scurry in place, running in frantic circles as their islands melt beneath them. They’re boiled alive as the blubber liquefies, emitting a high-pitched chittering sound. Witnessing this exodus of unexpected parasites costs 0/1 Sanity points.

Anomaly: The Parasites
About the size of crickets and translucent gray in color, the parasites combine the most repulsive qualities of shrimp, mollusk, and hookworm. Fortunately they are harmless to humans; but there’s something indescribably awful about them that makes the albino creatures of Lowell’s cave seem cute by comparison.

Reactions to the Parasite
The moment things settle down, the same realization strikes everyone at the tryworks—is the entire whale infested by these creatures? Pynchon glances at the two “maps” and orders them tossed into the trypot. Both render as expected—no parasites! Breathing a sigh of relief, he has a few more bible leaves brought to deck for testing, but everything seems normal. He issues a command to Mr. Coffin—“Just throw the rancid blanket into the sea. Once you’re clear of the filth, proceed as normal.” If Lowell wishes to acquire living samples of the parasite, he must make a successful Persuade roll to overcome the disgust of the mate. If he’s successful, the Professor may cut into the diseased blubber and retrieve 2D6 creatures for further inspection. The infected blanket is then dropped into the ocean and the fouled trypot is scrubbed clean.

D) Ambergris!
Another twist of the carcass and the whale returns to normal, its blubber pulling away from parasite-free flesh. If no player has thought to mention it, an Idea roll connects “sick whale” with “ambergris.” Cutting through the blubber along the whale’s alimentary canal, Coffin is rewarded with buried treasure—a few handfuls of ambergris, at least a couple hundred dollars’ worth! (See “Ambergris” under “Sperm Whale” for details.) Dumping the grey jelly into a bucket, he instructs Beckett or Redburn to “Pick out the beak and inform Mr. Pynchon.” Meanwhile he continues flensing the whale.

Anomaly: The Sathic Seed
Picking through ambergris is not a pleasant task, but what is on a boiling whaleship? At least the ambergris has a pleasant odor, almost like lilacs. But instead of the expected squid beak, it turns out the gelatinous substance is cocooning something quite stranger. The size of an olive and colored a nauseating cockroach-brown, the thing resembles a tiny sea urchin, or two spiderlike creatures fused back-to-back. There seems to be a wrinkle in the center; if pried open, the wrinkle folds back to reveal an eyeball with a cream-colored iris and a barred pupil—not unlike the eye of an octopus. (This costs 0/1 Sanity points.) The thing seems quite dead. A Science or Natural World roll draws a blank. Is it a sea urchin? If the object is shown to Mr. Pynchon, he certainly dismisses it as a sea urchin.

If the player character who made the discovery fails to notify Professor Lowell, the Keeper may want to position the doctor nearby—after all, news of ambergris is spreading through the ship, along with hopes for a handsome bonus. It’s immediately clear that the “specimen” is identical to the one found in Talbot’s House back in Kingsport! (Chapter 1, Encounter 24.) Originally pried from the arm of the harpooneer Diego Salva, Talbot believed it was responsible for the Spaniard’s terrible mutations. Is this thing responsible for the strange blubber and the parasites? Although this specimen seems every bit as dead as Talbot’s, the presence of the unblinking eye makes it more complete.

E) Splicing the Main-Brace
Once the last strip of blubber has been removed, Joab himself calls, “Five and forty more!” Whipple adds gleefully, “Almost twice that, Cap’n!” Indeed, even without the infected blubber, the exceptional whale is worth nearly 88 barrels of oil. Coffin is allowed to invite the men to “splice the main-brace,” and Joab nods to the second mate, “I think a double splicing is in order today?”

The men drink their grog thirstily, commenting on their greasy luck, the terrors of the fight, and fond memories of dead or injured crewmates. Afterwards they break into six hour try-watches, taking their meals on the fly and sleeping in filth-encrusted clothing. It’s time to begin the real work!

F) Bailing the Case
The cutting-in crew returns to the stage to pry free the monster’s jaw and sever its massive head. The head is hauled up to deck—it’s time to bail the case and retrieve the precious spermaceti oil. For the first time since setting sail, Mr. Pynchon himself supervises the process, finding the case and ordering one of the smaller sailors into the cavity with a conical bucket. (Usually Ricardo Reis, Duke Nelson, or James Cabot.) A Psychology roll detects the mate’s unusual interest in the process, from finding the case to measuring the exact amount of oil—about 612 gallons. If asked about the spermaceti, Pynchon declares it’s “exceptionally fine,” and “should fetch an excellent price that’ll benefit every man on ship.” Indeed, the oil is exceptionally fine, something a Whalecraft roll notes when squeezing it out before rendering. After it’s been rendered, cooled, and stowed, Pynchon appoints a few sailors to paint the casks black.

Huile de cachalot noir
If any player character pushes Pynchon about the oil, the black casks, or uses the phrase huile de cachalot noir, the mate laughs—“This isn’t the first of these black bulls we’ve caught in these waters; though he was the meanest. Captain Warnock had the idea of painting the casks to ‘distinguish’ the oil. I believe Addison Sleet sells it for a premium, even uses a fancy French name.” The Keeper must decide how Pynchon responds to more pointed questions. At this point in the campaign, Pynchon’s relationship with each player character is unique, so the Keeper should moderate the outcome of such discussions. This could range from being zapped with Cloud Memory to being told, “We shall use this oil to induct you into the Covenant on All Hallows’ Eve!” Beckett may be particularly interested, but when all is said and done, there’s nothing overtly suspect about the oil itself. Aside from painting the casks black, it’s treated and stored like normal spermaceti. (Though a black cask is never tapped for use onboard the ship.)

Testing the Oil
It’s relatively easy for a player character to steal a sample of huile de cachalot noir for testing. It appears identical to the oil found in the Congregational Church. If a sample is burned, it produces a pale green flame that’s curiously devoid of heat, and cannot be spread to another substance. Anyone who touches the flame feels a slight chill and experiences a fleeting sense of déjà-vu. A Kingsport Cult roll recalls legends of a “cold green flame” associated with the Kingsport Witch Cult, with a Hard success connecting it to vague notions of immortality.

G) The Jaw
The whale’s jaw is left to rot in the sun for a few days, then the teeth are pried loose. Any sailor with an Art/Craft (Scrimshaw) skill of 20% or higher is allowed a tooth, but the largest of the teeth is claimed for the Quiddity herself, and added to the ship’s barbaric décor. If the bull killed any sailors with its bite, his comrades take grim pleasure in tearing the teeth from their rotting sockets, mocking the whale as they furtively pass a bottle of aguardiente smuggled onboard at Atacames. While Mr. Coffin is free to act as his player desires, the rest of the officers turn a blind eye to the tars’ unauthorized drinking.

H) Clean-Up
Once the blubber had been boiled and the “stink” discarded, the men cut “lippers” from the whale’s flukes and prepare lye from his ashes. The cleaning is done with a particular zeal, the men reminded of the diseased blubber with its parasites and foul stench. Only after the leviathan has been purged do the men turn to their lost comrades, holding a solemn funeral on the freshly-holystoned deck and committing their remains to the deep.

I) Lowell’s Studies
The Raging Bull has produced several biological curiosities that Lowell may wish to study. If Lowell has dispelled the Lacuna and accepted final Communion with Sarah, he’ll find he’s become surprisingly adept at analyzing advanced concepts, guided by flashes of intuition and sudden insights into chemical principles and anatomical relationships. For the purposes of studying the sick whale’s anomalous bounties, Lowell may call upon three “scientific insights” during his investigation: one +1D10 bonus die on a science-related Skill roll, one consequence-free push attempt on a failed roll, and one reduction in difficulty of a roll by one degree (so an Extreme roll becomes a Hard roll, etc.).

The Tentacle
Disgorged from the whale’s stomach during its flurry, this initially appears to be a partially-digested squid tentacle. A Science (Biology) or Natural World roll quickly dismisses that notion—the tentacle may have ridged suckers, but it’s composed of a rough, horny substance that resembles chiton or keratin. Indeed, the soft meat has been fully digested by the whale’s juices; so this thing has been lodged in the bull’s stomach for quite some time. No wonder it was foul-tempered! Further inspection reveals additional oddities. Instead of the usual tapering or spade-like tip, the tentacle undergoes two successive trifurcations, tapering to nine whip-like appendages that resemble crustacean antennules. Each of these “antennules” terminates in a barbed spine. The spines are black in coloration and approximately 3 inches long. A Science (Biology) roll draws a complete blank, as does a Sea Lore roll. This is something unique! Further probing allows a Spot Hidden roll to determine that the barbed spines are retractable and hollow—perhaps they inject poison?

The Poison
If Lowell discovers that the spines are hollow, be may subject them to further analysis. A Hard Science (Chemistry) roll detects minute traces of toxin inside the spines. (If the “stonefish venom” has already been discovered in the Sathic seeds, this proves to be something different.) A second Science (Chemistry) roll determines the toxin is paralytic in nature. An Extreme success on this roll discovers that alcohol mitigates the effects! Whatever this creature is…perhaps drunkenness is actually a preventative against paralysis?

The Parasites
If Lowell is able to obtain a sample, the parasites may be studied in detail. A Science (Biology) roll confirms they resist classification, and have no evolutionary precedent: part crustacean, part mollusk, and part nematode, each creature boasts a curled “tail” that can be extended by seven full inches! Further analysis by a Hard Science (Biology) roll confirms their parasitical nature—they feed from blubber, and lay eggs in the layer between blubber and muscle. A Hard Science (Chemistry) roll discovers the creatures have been somehow metabolizing the whale’s natural oil into a more refined form closer to spermaceti oil. This suggests some ancient symbiotic relationship, one unseen among “normal” sperm whales. Familiarity with huile de cachalot noir and an Extreme success on the Chemistry roll establishes a connection between this metabolized spermaceti and the “black-cask” spermaceti in the creature’s case. Is this “metabolized” oil some form of precursor?

The Sathic Seed
Before he examines the “sea urchin,” the Keeper may wish to review what Lowell discovered about Talbot’s specimen in Chapter 1. This fresh specimen is more intact, and answers the question of what occupied the center of the “pit.” This central eye is surprisingly complex; a Science (Biology) roll finds similarities to the eye of an octopus. This means that the creature is an animal of some kind, which discounts any earlier hypotheses suggesting the “urchin” was an egg case or seed pod. But why is the eye inside the case? As before, if the thing is subjected to chemical analysis, 1D4 hours and a successful Science (Chemistry) roll discovers trace amounts of an unknown compound, with an Extreme success relating it to stonefish toxin. An Extreme Science (Chemistry) or Extreme Science (Biology) roll discovers its mutagenic effects on cells—nothing major, but Lowell can definitely see changes to microscopic organisms.

White Leviathan, Chapter 5—Pacific Ocean II
[Back to Encounter 4, Raging Bull | White Leviathan TOC | Forward to Encounter 6, Gam with the Persephone]

Author: A. Buell Ruch
Last Modified: 9 March 2024
Email: quail (at) shipwrecklibrary (dot) com
White Leviathan PDF: [TBD]