Search Requests

SEARCH REQUESTS

At game start, the map is completely unexplored and covered by a "fog of war" obscuring its features. New characters will be randomly dropped onto the island's shores; from there, to uncover tiles on the map and figure out more about where they are, search requests are required to document movement, attempt to uncover hidden materials and passages, discover or confront dangers, find old ruins and create new settlements, and potentially, solve puzzles related to the mystery of the island itself.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

Search requests are a required mechanic of this game. A search request for the current AC cycle must be submitted in order to pass AC without a strike.
Mistakes in search requests will never be penalized. Don't be afraid to eyeball a distance or make an approximate guess; if the math doesn't quite match up, or the path doesn't exist, I will offer alternate destinations and work with you in order to decide how the search request will resolve.
Search requests will rarely be immediately fatal. Unless your character is doing something intentionally reckless, I will do my best to offer paths of escape for any sudden dangers that arise.
You can be as precise or as vague as you want. If you want to exactly plot out the squares your character will travel through and search every IC day, that is totally fine. It's also fine to simply report that your character is staying in one place all month, or to give a starting point and a desired destination, with a general request to search a wide area. Just note that, the more vague you are in your request, the more I will extrapolate to fill in the blanks.
Retroactive/backdated search requests are allowed. They just can't be used for the current month's AC if they fall outside of the current month's AC period, or overwrite a previously submitted search request. Forward-dated search requests are also allowed as long as they fall within the same IC day that the request was posted (for example, if you post a search request on IC Day 30 morning, you can make that search request last for the entirety of IC day 30, not just the morning of).
Thoroughly searching a square, rather than just traveling through it, halves movement through that square. So if you choose to search every square along a path, you'll only travel half as far as someone moving with purpose to a destination. Remember that simply traveling through a square will still fully reveal it.
IC Days are split into three 8-hour increments. Each of these corresponds to one OOC day. Morning is from 4AM -> 11:59AM, Day is from 12PM -> 7:59PM, and Night is 8PM -> 3:59AM.
Several examples of search requests are provided below to help illustrate how they work. If you still have questions, please ask them in the FAQ (or in your search request!).

MAP REFERENCE/TRAVEL CONDITIONS

TRAVEL CONDITIONS | IC DAYS 15 → 17

MORNING

DAY

NIGHT

BEACH

OCEAN*

JUNGLE

FOOTHILLS

MOUNTAINS

4 squares/hour
(32 total)
3 square visibility

4 squares/hour
(32 total)
5 square visibility

4 squares/hour
(32 total)
1 square visibility

2 squares/hour
(16 total)
3 square visibility

2 squares/hour
(16 total)
5 square visibility

2 squares/hour
(16 total)
1 square visibility

1 square/hour
(8 total)
0 square visibility

2 squares/hour
(16 total)
2 square visibility

2 squares/hour
(16 total)
3 square visibility

1 square/hour
(8 total)
1 square visibility

1 square/hour
(8 total)
5 square visibility

1 square/hour
(8 total)
7 square visibility

1 square/hour
(8 total)
3 square visibility

*The average human can only tread water for three hours

LEGEND

- Preexisting Structure

- Ocean

- Reef

- Deep Water

- River

- Natural Landmark

- Beach

- Jungle

- Mangroves

- Character-Made Landmark

- Foothills

- Mountain

Click on any of the map tiles for details.

III

VII

VIII

XII

XIII

XIV

XVI

SUBMISSIONS

# | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z
All new characters will be given a toplevel to this post. To submit a search request, fill out the below form and copy/paste it as a response to your toplevel.

IC DATES: The IC dates the search request covers (I would also recommend putting this in the subject line to make it easier to keyword search later). You can use whole days, partial days, or a combination of either. To verify what IC days line up with real-world days and events, consult the Calendar.

STARTING SQUARE: The square your character is starting their search request on, format TILE.COLUMN.ROW. This should line up with your previous search request, or your starting location if newly arrived/revived.

ENDING SQUARE: The square your character is ending their search request on. If you're not sure where they'll end up (the area is unexplored/your character has a vague idea of where they want to go/you're not sure on the math/etc.), you can give a more rough answer here. Something like "they want to make it to Tile II," or "as close to II.AA.3 as possible" are perfectly valid answers.

DETAILS: The meat of your request. This is where you describe:

The path your character is taking,
The squares you want them to search,
Any special actions your character is taking during this period of time (or inaction), and
Any other special notes or questions you might have about this request.

Again, you can provide as much or as little information as you want; saying that your character is simply moving from point A to point B without searching anything is 100% acceptable.

NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Chill, no need for the spears.]

No idea how well the concept of chill translates, but Dirk just puts the apparently-offensive radio away and goes without issue. Is this going well? Fuck if he knows.

Dirk's protestations, of course, result in a firm poke in the back with a spear. It's not hard enough to draw blood, but it sends a message.

No one else speaks to him on his guided tour into the village. The other villages Dirk spotted spying on their exchange earlier now watch him warily from around doorways and behind huts, clicking and humming under their breath to the others in earshot. One of the guards breaks off to go gather away a child, not much more than eight or ten and wearing what appears to be a modified hemp sack for clothes, away from where they're gawking close to the edge of the road.

The other four push Dirk to the far side of the village - square XI.U.14 - where, in the sun and facing the sea, sits a much larger, more elaborate wood, thatch, and metal scrap building. Inside sit three middle-aged people on...airplane chairs? Yes, definitely airplane chairs, raised atop wooden crates and pallets above a rough stone and sand floor. Each of them wears an assortment of obviously scavenged, modern-looking clothes, patched with scraps and some natural materials.

The guards behind Dirk stop just within the doorway, rhythmically slamming the butts of their spears into the ground (a pattern that Dirk will immediately recognize as spelling "S.O.S.") before they block his way out. The person in the center - a woman, long, sandy blonde hair, heavily tanned and freckled, wearing a loose dress over a pair of torn jeans - speaks first.

[Name, outsider?] Unlike the guards, she uses the formal form of Morse code, down to clicking out the punctuation. [Or should I ask for your sign?]

Oh thank fuck, proper English. Translating the broken semi-phonetic shit into Morse code on the fly was giving him a headache.

[Dirk. Callsign is HE412T. Feel like giving me some actual answers?]

The three elders share a look.

[That depends on the answers you seek,] tuts the woman on Dirk's left. Dark-skinned with a full head of braids, threaded with twine, shiny strands of plastic, and various other interesting bits that could feasibly be found from beachcombing, her makeshift clothes are practical and her expression is flat. [The first ones wanted to destroy our faith, and the last ones wanted to destroy our people. You'll have to forgive us for being wary.]

The "faith" thing reminds him of something someone on the radio had mentioned, and Dirk matches their flat stare with an unreadable one of his own behind the dark shades.

[Are any of your people on the radio network? Or do you at least know who left these things for us in the first place?]

The woman on his left shakes her head while the woman in the center answers. [No,] she says, brow furrowing with dismay. [They denied us that privilege generations ago, as punishment for our faith. You can thank the Glencolans for your devices.]

[Probably,] interjects the elder seated to Dirk's right. He has the look of a businessman spat out of a desk job in some western city's downtown, salt-and-pepper hair with a scraggly five o'clock shadow that probably comes back at eleven, with a mismatched suit jacket, pants, and tie (wrapped around his forehead) to complete the look. [Our people haven't talked since the division, either. We can't be certain that they're directly involved.]

Dirk frowns. Okay, obvious next question:

[Who are the Glencolans?]

All three of the elders look at one another.

[You really don't know?] clicks the woman on the left. [They at least had the decency to tell the last batch they left here.]

[Like I told your people, no one I talked to on the radios seemed to have any idea what was going on. If anyone does, they were keeping quiet.]

[It wouldn't surprise me if they're doing it on purpose,] says the woman on the left with a huff. The man frowns at her, exasperated, but the woman in the center interrupts before they have time to argue.

[Then allow us to fill in some of the gaps they have left,] she clicks loudly, leaning back in her chair. [Settle, child, and be thankful. We usually save the telling of our history for celebrations.]

She gestures at the floor in front of her. There aren't any other chairs; she apparently expects Dirk to sit on the ground.

Welp. He's hardly gonna make a fuss now. Dirk settles himself down on the ground in front of them, gesturing as if to say proceed.

She quirks an eyebrow at him and hmphs with mild derision, but this doesn't stop her from continuing.

[The Glencolans were the first to inhabit the island. They learned terrible secrets about the world beyond worlds and tried to use them for themselves, but the gods of those worlds took notice, and did not approve. They smote our world to try and erase their secrets; however, at the last moment, the Glencolans used that knowledge against them to save themselves, preserving their home island while the rest of the world burned.

[One of the gods - The Great Whale, Whose Song Shakes the Heavens - took pity on our little sphere. She saw that the Glencolans were wicked, but our people were good, and that we should inhabit the earth when it is one day fit to live in. She struck our great ark from the sky before it could be destroyed, and though many perished, enough of us were spared by Her mercy to live on alongside the Glencolans. Our once separate peoples on the ark became whole - we became the Pacairs.

[For a time, there was peace. But the Glencolans had not learned their lesson. They rebuilt their ancient weapons of sin and tried to use them again, except this time they brought forth a god. They were fortunate that it was The Great Whale. Her Song spoke to us, and we knew at once that She would spare us as long as we acknowledged what She had given up for us, and tried to make this hell a place She could one day call heaven. We tried to tell the Glencolans; they told us that we were mistaken, and that gods didn't exist. For their blasphemy, Her Song drove them away into exile, where they have remained ever since.]

...Huh. Ok.

Dirk thinks he can parse some more tangible, real world detail out of all that mythologizing. It reminds him of the ancient tablets and ruins and shit that had dotted his and his friends' planets, framing the simple facts of their session in religious prophecy. And even if Dirk hasn't lived typical modern Earth culture, he's seen enough movies and shit to pick up on what's going on here. He's seen Lost, okay?

And fortunately, he at least has enough tact to know it's probably not a good idea to pick apart this religion to its worshippers.

[...Do you know where they were exiled to?]

The man points to the wall of the building - the one facing the ocean, to the southeast.

[Across the sea,] he hums, contemptuously. [They've tried to get back, many times, but The Great Whale's always denied them. For a few generations we thought they were all dead.]

All three of the elders look momentarily uncomfortable.

[...Until recently, anyway,] admits the woman in the center. [We were only children then.]

Dirks nods his understanding, face unreadable as ever.

[Do you have any art of the Great Whale? Paintings or statues or anything?]

Seems likely for a religion, unless said religion has some kind of stigma against idolatry. The whale they keep mentioning is the piece of the puzzle he doesn't quite know what to do with without more information, and it seems kinda boorish to just outright ask if they're talking about a literal whale or a metaphor for a storm or some kind of actual supernatural being.

The man looks vaguely perplexed, while the two women are, apparently, amused.

[No,] chuckles the one on the left. [Can you imagine--trying to capture the likeness of a god? Her form is vast and incomprehensible. The fact that She even has a physical form is one of Her simpler miracles.]

Ok, physical being. That's something.

[And what kind of "miracle" is this Song? How did it stop the Glencolans from coming back to this island?]

(He doesn't actually spell out the morse code for the quotations, as much as he wants to.)

[Her Song is as incomprehensible as Her form,] gently explains the woman in the center. [It's not something that can be described - it has to be experienced. Perhaps one day you can--]

[--If we agree that you are worthy,] interrupts the woman on the left, tone as stern as the sharp glare she shoots at the woman in the center, [you may be permitted to attend a ceremony in Her honor and experience Her glory for yourself. This is not something to be decided lightly.]

The man nods once in firm agreement before he cuts in. [We know you aren't the only one here,] he clicks. [Our scouts have seen others, when the old secrets were screaming across the island. How many? Do they all have devices like yours?]

There's a slight frown, because that sounds like something that'd either be an illuminating experience or just getting sacrificed by some cultists, and he's not sure which possibility he's leaning towards right now.

[Hell if I know. I only woke up a few hours ago. I'm the guy with the least amount of information here.]

And yet he's apparently immediately stumbled across the people with the most answers. Life is truly unfair.

The three elders share another glance at one another, the man looking especially unimpressed. The woman in the center is the one that ends up addressing him again.

[Of course. You must be very disoriented,] she clicks, waving to the row of four guards blocking the front door. They move as a unit to encircle Dirk. [We'll give you a place to shelter for the night while we...discuss everything we've learned today. You will be granted another audience with us at first light. Dismissed.]

The guards synchronously tap another S.O.S. into the floor with their spears, then turn to usher Dirk out of the building.

Well, shit. Looks like he's staying the night.

Dirk is whisked away to neighboring square XI.V.14, moved much faster and with firmer purpose than before through the scattered huts and around gawking villagers, to one of the buildings on the northern edge of the village. Large squares of metal and concrete stuck into the walls give it a more sturdy, secure appearance, although the inside isn't much more than a series of simple cots - some actual mattresses, more of them a mix of blankets and tarps stuffed with plants - and assorted wooden chests and repurposed suitcases for storage. A few other villagers are milling about inside, also with makeshift weapons.

[u stay heer,] clicks one of Dirk's escorts, gesturing at one of the far beds before roughly pushing him inside by the shoulder. [get som 1 if u hav 2 leev. wak u up 4 talk 2morow.]

Most of the escorts leave at that point. Two of them take up positions at the front door, and the smattering of villagers inside do their best to ignore Dirk while they continue whatever hushed conversation they were having earlier, then eventually they take it outside. He will be left alone here for the remainder of Day 008.

He's admittedly not too broken up about being ignored after all that surprise morse socializing with complete strangers. He just sits his ass down on whatever cot is furthest in the corner and settles in for now. There's temptation to search the room for useful shit once all the villagers are gone, but he's pretty sure looting their shit won't endear him to anyone, so he just passes the time quietly by finally getting back to everyone on the radio.

The villagers that pass in and out of the building seem just as content to leave Dirk alone. He's only directly addressed twice: Once around sunset to be given a cup of fresh water and a plate of roasted vegetables (some familiar and some not), then once a couple hours later to gather his dirty dishes and escort him to the communal bathroom glade behind the village. Fifteen minutes later and they're ushering him back to the same building for an overnight stay.

Interestingly, most of the cots remain empty in this barracks-like hut during the night, and it seems like the people that come in and out rotate every few hours, freely swapping weapons and napping in each other's bunks with impunity. There is never a point where there aren't two villagers stationed by the front door, and as the night drags on, Dirk might catch them stealing looks over their shoulders to stare at him at the far end of the room.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Search Requests

SEARCH REQUESTS

RULES AND GUIDELINES

MAP REFERENCE/TRAVEL CONDITIONS

SUBMISSIONS

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