>>3508255
>ask a question
>What do you know of Hood's movements? Does her force patrol at a predictable interval, or in response to certain events? Can we lure her out or ambush her?

>If we lack intelligence, then I can lead a reconnaissance in force. (a good excuse to get lost at the right time)

And welcome back.

>>3508471
This

>What do you know of Hood's movements? Does her force patrol at a predictable interval, or in response to certain events? Can we lure her out or ambush her?

>If we lack intelligence, then I can lead a reconnaissance in force. (a good excuse to get lost at the right time)

You cast a withering gaze at the submarine and cross your arms, intending to make your willingness to defend the girl known. Causing the abyssal to make a nervous gurgling breath and glance back at your sister, her eyes conveying unease and confusion over Bretagne’s apparent unwillingness to force the issue of the destroyer.

For her part, your sister traces an idle finger along the weathered edge of the table, a faint amused smile on her lips, apparently awaiting a response from you.

You will yourself to calm, sensing the issue of L’Audacieux has at least been delayed and return your attention to your sister. “I presume you’ve been keeping a close eye on Hood. What do you know of her movements or disposition. Does her force patrol at a predictable interval? Can we even provoke them or her out? If we’re to lure her out we need proper bait.”

“Ah!” Bretagne exclaims with probably over exaggerated delight in her tone. “Finally, to business. Truth be told we have been keeping a close eye on Hood, though frustratingly she seems to avoid any effort of provocation at our end.”

You frown and consider the statement. “I sense that there’s a caveat somewhere there.”

Your sister grins proudly, “Right as ever Dear Sister. Hood seems to take particular delight in fighting those returnees who continue to defend the humans. Truth be told, I can appreciate the fact that she too seems to have a particular grudge against her former countrymen.”

“And you wished for me and L’Audacieux to act as bait.” You add flatly, crossing your arms on the table.

A look of genuine hurt flashes across the bright blue of your sister’s eyes. “As I said earlier. Hood has an immense sense of pride, were we to stage a battle between us on the doorstep I have little doubt that she’d personally sally forth to join the frey. At that point it’s a matter of turning all our guns to bare against her.” she makes a dismissive gesture with her hands, “We needn’t worry about making it convincing, we’ll just have you sink a few escorts.”

>accept
>accept (lie)
>decline
>suggest an alternative plan
>ask a further question

>>3509512
>>accept

File: 1280px-Flag_of_Philippe_P(...).png (37 KB, 1280x853)

37 KB PNG

>>3509512
>>accept
She's clearly not gonna budge on this issue. I just hope we dont get fucking caught.
>>3508255
Also welcome back OP. Glad to see that you didn't die irl.

>>3509512
>accept

>accept

“I get the sense you’ve already laid all the groundwork for this operation of yours sister.” you offer, only slightly teasing. “But-” you add with a twinge of reservation “I will support you in this endeavour, we will sink Hood..”

Bretagne straightens her posture and smiles an unreadable smile, clasping her hands together “Excellent.” she offers, “Together we shall finally find our revenge on those who have been so long unaccounted for their actions.”

You nod, already quietly mulling over the implications of your promise.

Your sister smiles broadly. “I am pleased to see my sister so agreeable to circumstances.”

“Getting revenge for the both of us and bringing Hood down a few pegs. What should I find disagreeable?” You offer, the words
The submarine makes a nervous sucking breath, drawing both of your attention to the girl. You with curiosity and your sister with an annoyed frown. “Be so kind as to show my sister to her quarters.” Bretagne mutters with annoyance.
Your sister’s minion takes a nervous gurgling breath. “Mistress, shall I take the other one to the brig?”

Bretagne casts a frustrated look towards you before glancing back towards the submarine in anger. “No. Of course not.” she announces, clearly attempting to placate you. “The are both our guests. I am certain they will both be on their best behaviors, the old captain’s quarters shall suffice.”

The submarine takes a wet sucking breath. “Yes My Lady” she offers, before turning towards you. “If you’re ready to depart we can head out.”

L’Audacieux shoots you a longing look and you can sense the Destroyer’s eagerness to leave from here.

You nod to your guide, signaling your departure and the submarine takes a deep gurgling breath before treading onwards. Out the door.

“We shall talk again in the morning dear sister.” Bretagne offers as you stand up to follow. “I trust we both have a lot to consider and plan for.” she offers a half wave.

Your destroyer escort nearly bolts to the door, standing and making her way out with you, hugging closely near your flank. Neither the submarine nor your sister seems to make comment over the destroyer’s eagerness to leave.

>>3510138

Passing into the hallway, you scarcely have time to glance to the destroyer before your guide stops, only a few doors over, and gestures you towards an open passage. You follow confidently, reassured that your firepower and relationship with your sister are more than enough to keep you safe in this place.

The room is, as the others, clearly in a state of extreme disrepair. The small room is home to but a pair of small bed, flanking on either side and in a state of disrepair. Their sheets and covers near brown with stains and damage. The paint on the walls is peeled, revealing mold and mildew that has grown amongst the damp sea air.

Sensing her duty done, your guide takes a deep sucking breath and steps back, departing from you without offering a word of parting.

At her passing L’Audacieux lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you Provence. I think you saved me from something really nasty back there.”

>ask the destroyer a question
>suggest you poke about the Abyssal lair
>suggest you rest up for the morning
>suggest a plan
>try to escape
>other

>>3510145
>suggest you poke about the Abyssal lair

>>3510145
>ask the destroyer a question
What is the closest friendly port from Gibraltar? Rota may be too much to hope for, but after the mission, we can pull a Fletcher and claim we need to refuel or repair at a port that is conveniently closer than Bretagne's lair.

>>3510145
>ask the destroyer a question
So....how do you feel about this whole Hood thing? You didnt really get the chance for much input back there.

>ask the destroyer a question
Did you notice Bretagne said, throw her to the others into the brig - are there any french shipgirls missing or are those most likely only italians?

>ask the destroyer a question (several questions)

L’Audacieux takes a seat on the bed, apparently unconcerned with the filthy state, landing with a thump on the sheets, a green dust of dried algae and salt billowing up. The distress on her expression still evident, though the barely concealed panic she displayed during dinner has given way to a look of unease.

You close the door behind the submarine take a seat on the tattered bed across from your escort, doing your best to bring yourself level to the destroyer. “Are you alright?” you ask

The girl lets out another sigh, then shakes her head. “I wasn’t expecting Bretagne to be quite so unwell.” she glances up to you “Thanks for helping me back there by the way. I don’t relish the idea of being in Abyssal captivity.”

“I was the one who dragged you down here L’Audacieux.” you offer a reassuring smirk and cross your arms proudly “Besides, what kind of battleship abandons her escort in the face of the enemy?”

She smiles slightly, apparently reassured by your comment. “Still,” she replies. “I owe you my gratitude.”

You nod, acknowledging the thanks before continuing the conversation. “But my sister’s comment back there did worry me.” you begin, “If there is a brig here, that implies the Abyssals take prisoners. Have we lost anyone recently? If there’s a chance our comrades are stuck here-” you begin, mulling over the thought.

L’Audacieux’s nervous expression returns. “I didn’t even know Abyssals took prisoners. But we have lost girls before, it was just assumed they had been sunk. We can’t leave anyone stuck there” The destroyer comments in a pleading tone, “not in this place.”

You nod. “We need to figure out where we stand and what we can do. We’re pretty heavily outnumbered. Speaking of plans, what’s your opinion on my Sister’s quest to kill Hood? You didn’t get the chance to interject there.”

The destroyer looks discomforted by the question. “As far as plans go, it seems like a good one and I can’t deny that killing Hood would bring a certain satisfaction to the both of us. Besides, if anything it would help our war effort by having the Abyssals fight each other.”

You fold your arms, sensing the destroyer has more to say.

>>3511197
“I can’t help but feel that Bretagne is manipulating us.” your escort adds in a quiet tone, glancing at the doorway. “She’s up to something. Something she hasn’t told us about yet, Abyssals are smart and devious, Provence.”

You, mulling over the destroyer’s comment. “What is the closest friendly port from Gibraltar?” you ask. “We might be able to slink out of the mission be claiming a need to refuel or repair at a port that is conveniently closer than Bretagne's lair.”

“Rota’s been bombarded pretty badly, last I heard, I think the navy pulled out of most of the southern coast.” She mulls over the question. “I think Cadiz is still operating, the Royal Navy has been pretty active in the Atlantic.” she shrugs “With the Royal Navy and Hood out there, it’s possible Bretagne hasn’t able to get scouts out that way, so even if it’s not we could just bluff.”

The conversation dies down as plans begin to form

“But Provence-” your escort begins again. “You saw how violently Bretagne reacted when you suggested leaving to form a squadron. I’m not sure she’s willing to see you leave her side at all.”

“She did seem a tad obsessive over me.” you admit hesitantly. “But what other option do we have?”

L’Audacieux looks uncomfortable, seeming to lack an answer. “There’s the issue of the brig too. If we leave after the operation and anyone is down there-” the destroyer trails off, worry evident in her expression.

>suggest a plan
>poke about the abyssal ship
>suggest getting rest
>other
>ask a question

>>3511199
>>poke about the abyssal ship
Provence can check on the brig. I imagine it has guards but they're less likely to be violent with Bretagne's sister.

Waiting on another vote to continue

>>3511199
>poke about the abyssal ship
Ask Surcouf for a tour. The best way to not get caught is to act like we belong.

>>3513139
>>3511918
>>poke about the abyssal ship

You nod idly, mirroring the concern the destroyer has raised. “Perhaps.” you begin with some finality. “It would be a good idea to do some exploring while we are still here, just to verify if anyone really is stuck down there.”

The destroyer looks uneasily at you. “I’m not sure your sister would welcome us delving too deeply and the ship is well guarded.”

You offer the destroyer a reassuring glance. “And for that reason you should remain here. I’ll risk her wrath with me, but you seem a target for her ire. Besides, I’m sure I can strongarm Surcouf into making it a ‘tour’”

L’Audacieux seems unconvinced but eventually gives an almost imperceptible nod of acquiesce. “Be careful Provence.” She offers quietly, “and for both our sake don’t put too much stock into your status as Bretagne’s favorite. She may be your sister but that doesn’t mean she has your best intentions in mind.”

You find yourself with little rebuttal or answer to the comment and decide to use the opportunity to depart, giving a curt gesture of farewell and step outside the room into the darkened hallways of the Abyssal fortress and begin to retrace your steps.

>>3513529

Your sister and your guide seem absent from the hall, even as you round to the great hollowed out space that serves as Bretagne’s throne. You begin to ponder your options and realize with a frown that you have little bearing or idea on how to find what you’re looking for without the submarine’s help. Considering your best course of action, your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of light footsteps coming from the passageway leading back to your quarters and the dining room. Turning back, you prepare yourself to rebuke L’Audacieux for following you, but are surprised to see the figure isn’t her.

The white haired girl is clearly an Abyssal, though not one you have seen before. Judging by her small size, only slightly smaller than L’Audacieux, she’s some sort of escort. Her exact class however is hard to define between the black metal rigging which is covered in confusing gaping mouth like gunports, dazzling cannons, and strange studded black orbs. The girl glances at you quizzically with her bright violet eyes, unsure of what your purpose is before breaking out in an awestruck grin.

“You are Our Lady’s kin.” she mutters, though her voice comes out as a muffled airy echo, you can hear the adoration in her voice. She clutches the bucket she’s carrying closer to her chest, which you now realize is full of the discarded dinner that your sister unceremoniously backhanded out of Surcouf’s hand.

“Battleship Provence” you mutter, crossing your arms and taking an odd pride in the Abyssal’s awe of you. “I am Bretagne’s sister.”

The girl nods excitedly, before tilting her head in confusion “Our Lady did not give instruction that you would be out.” she mutters uncertainty “How may I help you Lady Provence? Have you lost your way from your quarters?”

You shake your head. “I was actually looking for Surcouf.” you mutter dryly, “but she seems to have left in some hurry.”

“Surcouf-” the girl echos as if the word’s meaning is alien to her.
>ask the girl a question
>ask the girl if she can help you find the submarine
>ask the girl to guide you to the Brig
>ask the girl to show you around
>other

>>3513539
>>ask the girl to guide you to the Brig

>>3513575
Giving it an hour and then going to write up the next bit. Thread has been quiet these past few days.

>>ask the girl to guide you to the Brig

You do your best to swallow the unease the Abyssal natural seems to draw within you “You know.” You offer, putting a up at what you guess the submarine's height would be. “She's a submarine.”

The girl offers an uncomfortable look, seemingly confused and slightly distressed that she can't answer your question.

“Nevermind that. Truth be told I was just looking for someone to show me around.” You cast a sideways glance at the escort. “I don't suppose you would mind showing me the way.”

She looks hesitant at the idea of leading you on. “Our Lady did not command this.” She explains. Her tone is difficult to gauge through the distant and echo-like quality that that accents it, but you detect a faint undertone of unease at your request. “We must act as Our Lady commands. Our Lady is our guide.”

You try to offer a reassuring and casual smile, but suspect your mixed emotions over the situation and proximity to the Abyssal make it less genuine than you hope. “It's quite alright. As you said, she is my sister. I'm not some upstart troublemaker. I didn't catch your name by the way.”

The girl seems to process the statements slowly, glancing thoughtfully at the floor briefly before returning to you with a confused expression on her face. “Name?” She asks hesitantly.

You frown at her question. “You know?” You ask discomforted slightly, “You called me 'Lady Provence. What should I call you?”

The Abyssal bows its head and seems to look almost ashamed. “Lady Provenance needs not trouble herself with that. This one does not need an honorific. I am unworthy.”

You offer a placating hand out to reassure the small ship but mixed thoughts over her comment cause you to pull it back again. Mulling over what the creature just said. “Alright then.” You quietly add. “Do you think you could help Lady Provence find her way around the ship.”

Hesitation again. “Our Lady did not command this,” it offers in quiet echo.

“But Lady Provence did.” You correct in a soft but commanding tone. “If my sister asks simply tell her that much.”

The Abyssal pauses with worry, before nodding slightly. “Yes Lady Provence.” it finally relents. “Where can I guide you?”

You offer a proud smile, intending to reinforce the Abyssal decision to agree to your demands. “I found myself fascinated over the idea that the Abyssals would have any sort of code for war or court.” You explain, wishing you had come up with a better like beforehand as you do. “I'd like the see the brig.”

The word’s effect is instantaneous on your guide. Her glowing violet eyes, widening in the first instance of terror you can recall seeing in an Abyssal and from the rest of her expression you're sure the girl would be white with terror if she had any pigment to lose.

>>3514676
“We must act as Our Lady commands. Our Lady is our guide.” the escort repeats in an almost imperceptible tone. This time the sentence sounds less like an rebuff of your request and more like a mantra of prayer.

>Ask the girl a question
>Demand she take you
>Other

>>3514680
>>Ask the girl a question
Gain her confidence first. Ask her what she does for fun, maybe play a quick game with her, like hopscotch. Grab some midrats from the mess, wander around and just shoot the breeze, and then suggest we go point and laugh at the prisoners.

>>3514676
>>Ask the girl a question
What is in the brig then, little one?

>Gain her confidence first. Ask her what she does for fun.
>Ask her what's in the brig
>(Sorry. There weren't many replies so I'm going to try to do an awkward middle ground here)

The Abyssal's breath comes in ragged panicked gasps. You offer an assuaging hand gesture in an attempt to return her to a semblance of calm, offering a friendly pat over the snow white matted hair of the girl, biting down the bile that seems to rise at being so close to her. “You're not being punished or taken to the brig.” You reassure quietly, “I'd just like for someone to show me around Bretagne's little kingdom while she's busy.”

The escort swallows nervously, eyeing you again with a sense of apprehension. “We are not acting out of turn?” She asks hesitantly, as if expecting your reassurances to be a ruse.

You nod. “Of course not,” you reply in a gentle tone. “How about you show us somewhere fun. What do all of you do for leisure around here?”

She displays an uneasy confusion similar to when you asked the Abyssal her name and fidgets awkwardly with the bucket in her hands, avoiding your gaze

You frown and cross your arms. “Nothing fun to do-” you mutter dryly. “My sister really keeps everyone here on a short leash.”

“Our Lady is our guide,” the girl quickly answers with an eager tone, apparently cured of her unease with mention of your sister's name.

“Yes-” you begin before an idea crosses your mind. “What about food?” You ask, “is there a canteen we can chat?”

The girl ponders the question briefly before offering the bucket, offered with both hands fully outstretched. The insides are still full of the fish carcasses, emaciated and putrid.

“I'm not the least bit hungry,” you quickly lie, offering a hand to refute the bucket.

The girl pulls the bucket back, again puzzled by your reaction.

“

>>3516289

“Look.” You begin quietly, glancing about the wide open space of your sister's impromptu throne room, eventually spotting a discarded steel beam laying haphazardly on the steel floor. “How about we take a seat there?” You suggest offhand. “You can eat while we chat.”

The Abyssal seems to offer no reaction, but after some lengthy and uncomfortable pause you elect to lead the way, crossing the room and taking a seat yourself. Only after you sit down does the girl follow, crossing the room and sitting before you cross legged on the cold steel floor, looking up at you expectantly. You're about to correct her when your comment dies in your throat with a sigh, she seems contented enough and you're not about to lead her by the nose any further.

You being to think of possible topics to broach with the girl that she may be receptive to, finally settling with “What do you do here?”

She brightens and you detect a sense of small pride behind her glowing eyes. “We keep the post safe.” She answers, “Our Lady relies upon us to drive back the lapdogs and the heretics. We are untested.” She admits with a slight downcast to her pride. “Fresh. But Our Lady has told us that we are most important to keeping her fortress secure.”

“Heretics?” you ask with a frown.

“Those who do not serve the betrayers but do not follow Our Lady's light.”

You ponder the sentence briefly. “So other Abyssals like Hood?”

It doesn't look like she understands the word “Abyssal”, but the girl nods at mention of Hood’s name.

You nod and realize that the conversation has veered far from where you first intended. “Is that what the Brig is for than?” You ask. “Reeducation of Heretics?”

A look crosses her eyes. Not the active terror that the girl displayed when convinced punishment was in store, but certainly horrified apprehension.

“No Lady Provence.” She answers in a quiet tone.

“What is kept there then?” You ask, driving the question onward.

“It is where they illuminate.” She answers in a hushed whisper, avoiding your gaze and gripping the handle of the bucket hard enough to bend it out of shape. “It is where the Lapdogs are introduced to Our Lady's faithful.”

>Ask a question
>Ask her to show you
>Demand that she show you
>Get L’Audacieux to safety
>Confront your sister
>Return to L’Audacieux
>Other

>>3516291
>Ask a question
>Do the Lapdogs eventually join the Faithful? What do you know about these Lapdogs? Do you want me to show you a game we guards can play on prisoners, hon hon hon?

(thinking) May we can bring these prisoners with our forlorn hope

>>3516763
It looks like replies are coming in slow. I'm going to head off for the night, but tomorrow I think I'll try and post a little more rapidly, even if we're not getting much activity. More fun that way imo.

>>3516291
>>Ask her to show you

>Ask a question
>Do the Lapdogs eventually join the Faithful? What do you know about these Lapdogs? Do you want me to show you a game we guards can play on prisoners, hon hon hon?
>Show me

You pause and mull over her statement. “Do they eventually join the faithful?”

The Abyssal nods and seems slightly take aback by your question. “Of course Lady Provence. Our Lady is the truth. It is impossible for them to resist that. One by one all will follow her guidance.”

You nod, pondering how best to convince the Abyssal to guide you. “It sounds like a lovely place.” You remark dryly after some time. “Maybe you ought to take me down there. You seemed to lack for entertainment and I’m sure we can rectify that down there.” You offer your best attempt at a sardonic smile and rise to a stand.

The escort continues to look at you uneasily over the idea, still sitting on the floor with her bucket.

“I'm certain my sister could use the help illuminating the lapdogs and we could use the amusement. Or do you think Lady Provence is unfit for the task?”

A protest forms on the Abyssal's face, but she hesitates before standing unsteadily, still clutching her bucket. “I will guide you Lady Provence,” she finally relents, “but it is not a good place,” she begins to walk towards the exit, guiding you onwards.

You follow, debating asking a question but decide to wait to see the brig for yourself, your journey begins along the familiar path outwards, passing again the two large pale guards that stand outside the ship’s ruined bow, guarding your sister. Your new guide appears to ignore them and they spare you only an unreadable cursory glance as you pass, apparently content to let you leave.

The outside air is surprisingly warmer than the inside of the Abyssal fortress. Though the wind gives a chill as it guides rough waves into the gap between the two sections of the broken ship. Your escort continues onward towards the stern, stepping onto a small bridge linking the two sections, a rusty patchwork of various parts ripped from the sides of the vessel. You glance before you towards the ruined stern, where dozens of passageways and doors like exposed to the wind, exposing the skeleton of the ship.

“Lady Provence?” Your guide asks from the bridge, noting your unease.

You offer a reassuring look, dropping the discomfort from your expression. “It's nothing” you assuage.

The girl doesn't reply, continuing onwards into the passageways, deeper into the ship, every few minutes she descends, taking you even lower towards the bowels of the fortress. The improvised lights of burning oil come less frequently here and the air descends into a biting chill. Eventually, she leads you down an improvised stairway into near darkness, you step off it and are surprised to feel the cold chill of near freezing water greet your foot.

“We're here.” Your guide mutters in a hushed tone, taking you further down the passage.

>>3517563
You glance down the hallway. In the distance, a single door stands bolted shut, lit by a single time of burning fuel. Standing next to it, an Abyssal holds guard. She's roughly the size of the British cruisers you fought earlier, and appears well armed with the undefinable array of Abyssal weapons that you've come to expect from their girls. Her head is faced towards you, clearly aware of your presence though her expression is difficult to read. Her mouth is impassive and her eyes are concealed by a thick jagged helmet of polished black metal.

“You are not to be here.” She remarks coldly as you approach. Your response is only half formed in your throat when you realize she isn't speaking to you.

“Lady Provence wanted to see Our Lady's work.” your guide explains, a hint of unease in her voice. “She said she could help illuminate the faithless.”

The face snaps up, now regarding you impassively. “She is not to be here either. Our Lady has decreed as such.”

“I am Your Lady's kin.” You explain, deliberately choosing your guide’s words. “I wish to enter.”

“Then you will need to consult with Our Lady.” The guard impassively explains. “this room is for her, her choice lieutenants, and the unbelievers who need guidance.”

>Attempt to persuade (write in)
>Fight the guard
>Suggest a compromise
>Go ask Bretagne
>Ask question
>Other

>>3517589
>Attempt to persuade (write in)
"And who is more trusted than family?"
>Suggest a compromise
"Of course, I expect you to accompany me."

>>3518277
Backing this.
We in the deep shit now bois

>>3518750
>Attempt to persuade (write in)
"And who is more trusted than family?"
>Suggest a compromise
"Of course, I expect you to accompany me."

You cross your arms and adopt a serious attitude. “And you assume my sister doesn't trust me?” You ask, letting the accusation hang in my voice. “Who can my sister trust if not her family?”

The question looks to take the sentry off guard. Her posture or expression offers little clue, but she seems to hesitate, looking for a diplomatic solution to your question. “It is not a question of trust Lady Provence. Our Lady had not instructed me to let you in.”

“No. I expect she didn't. I've come on my own. However if my sister expects my assistance I need to understand her affairs and she needs to be willing to let me take initiative to help.”

“I can't let you into the brig unaccounted for Lady Provence.” The sentry explains matter of factly.

You put on act of confusion over the statement. “No of course not,” you explain. “I expect you'll need to show me in.”

The the edge of the guard’s mouth twitches downwards briefly in frustration. “This I can accommodate,” she relents, grabbing the iron bar jamming the door shut. “The minelayer stays outside,” she adds as an addendum before swinging the door open. The look of terror your companion gives off makes her demand a very acceptable compromise.

The door opens. Utter darkness seems to blanket the inside, save for a small shaft of light let in by the open doorway you stand before. A wave of unpleasant scent, decay, bodily fluids, and some pungent chemical smell seems to drive itself towards you. The combination of odors is strong even amongst the background of decay in the Abyssal fortress and you fight hard to avoid wretching over the smell.

As if unperturbed by the smell the guard takes a step inside and you hesitantly follow into the darkness, brushing your hand before you as if attempting to drive off the scent.

Your eyes adjust slowly to the near pitch darkness. The first sight that catches you attention is the corpse. Bloated and yellow, it lies just beyond the edge of the light. Glossy black worms, resembling large leeches wither over the skin, pushing themselves into the wounds and the fold of the tattered clothes as if fleeing from the light or noise that came with your entry. At first you suspect it's one of the shipgirls, but even amongst the decay it becomes apparent that the corpse is a man, dressed in the tattered remains of a blue uniform.

>>3518982
You do your best to remain nonplussed by the sight, glancing about the small lightless room to avoid staring. It becomes apparent that the body is not the only source of foul odor. All over the floor, filthy clumps of fluid and matter stain the deck. The three occupants of the room scarcely seem any less dirty. They sit on their knees, their arms secured to the ceiling by long rusted chains. All three are gagged and blindfolded, wearing uniforms tattered into obscurity. Two of them sequestered in the corner and escorts in size seem to offer no reaction to your entrance, hanging defeated and limp. The third, larger than the other two seems to do her best to push herself away, sounds of terror and muffled cries come out from under the gag.

“Have you seen all you need to see?” the guard asks dryly. “Or did you have further business here?”

>Attempt escape
>Ask a question
>Take a closer look at something (write in)
>Return to your quarters
>Other (write in)

>>3518983
>Take a closer look at something (write in)
Look for dogtags on any of the bodies.
>Ask a question
"Who are these pigs? Can I punish them?" Proceed to kick/stomp them in Morse code -- "Stay Strong", "Help is Coming", &c. whilst theatrically mocking them verbally as a cover

>>3519919
Or if kicking is too violent, try sexual assault. Grabbing T&A in a Morse pattern works too, and provides an easy basis for the fake verbal abuse. It might really distract the guard too.

I blame Fuck Quest for this idea.

>>3518983
>ask who they are?

>ask who they are?
>Look for dogtags on any of the bodies.

You nod towards the girls chained to the ceiling and turn to their jailer, “Who are they?”

“Heathens.” she answers dryly. “Lapdogs. Though if you were asking their identities, I don’t know. Your newfound friend might be able to tell you who those two are.” she answers only half glancing at the pair of unresponsive girls dangling limply. She she tilts her head briefly towards the actively panicking figure. “This one was found some days ago. Our Lady was most generous in sparing her life.”

You pace towards the worried figure, bringing your face near level to her blindfolded eyes. Her face is familiar to you, though the recognition is difficult to place where beneath the tear streaked grit covering it. You place a hand against her cheek. The figure recoils and lets out a choking panicked gurgle. light tap, against her cheek. “Where did my sister find you?” You ask in a sultry and domineering tone, grabbing her face and pushing it towards your own. You begin lightly drumming on the side of her head, hoping your action is imperceptible to the guard, spelling a message of encouragement. “Help comes”.

If the prisoner notices the message however, she does a good job of hiding it, recoiling from your grasp with another choked sob. The sob turns into a gurgling choke and a wet cough, her panicked crying causing black ichor and blood to spray from her mouth over your hand.

“Lady Provence. I must ask that you do not antagonize the prisoner.” The guard reprimands. “Despite appearances this is delicate work.”

You frown and stand, wiping your hand on your pants. “I see. My apologies.” You offer the warden before standing and taking a step back, the girl before you still sobbing in terror.

>>3520923
Your feet kick something soft and you turn around, noticing with some minor revulsion that you’ve backed into the corpse in the middle of the room. You glance down, and reach towards the neck, noticing a small steel chain wrapped around the yellow flesh. You reach towards it and note with some revulsion that it appears to rise up to meet you as the flesh beneath it is disturbed by a leech wriggling beneath the skin. You pull the dogtag up and take a glance at the name on it. The man’s name is unfamiliar, but the writing on it clearly identifies his place in the Italian Navy. You notice the Abyssal staring at you impassively and stand, briefly running through explanations for the action, but deciding against it when no question regarding your action comes from her.

“Have you learned what you need to learn of Our Lady’s affairs?” she asks, betraying no tone of emotion

You hesitate briefly before nodding. “Yes.” you mutter. “I think we are finished here.”

She nods and glances out the door, her gaze guiding you back into the hall. You offer a last sympathetic look towards the jailed girls and step out, followed by the guard who swings the heavy iron door closed behind her, stealing the last of the light from the room with a heavy thud.

Your guide stands in the hallway, an anxious look still on her face. “Do you have somewhere else you need to see Lady Provence?” she asks, clearly eager to be away from here.

>yes (write in)
>no, you need to speak with L’Audacieux
>no, you need to speak with your sister
>no, you have something else to do (write in)
>ask a question

>>3520948
>ask a question
"What sort of intelligence do you gather from the prisoners? What have you learned? Any patterns?"
If there is no answer, then
>no, you have something else to do (write in)
Hang out with the minesweeper and invite her to a slumber party. Hopefully, we can turn her into an intelligence asset over time.

>>3522005
Oops, I thought we were talking to the guard. Changing to
>yes (write in)
The workshop. What sort of logistics do the Abyssals have?

>>3520948
Supporting >>3522065

>>3522065
Sure
Altho we might not wanna get TOO nosy. Before we run into someone who gets suspicious.

>>3522005

>ask a question
>The workshop. What sort of logistics do the Abyssals have?

“I’d like to see the workshop and understand what logistics my Sister has to bear against Hood.” you ask, stepping away from the door and beckoning the minelayer onwards. “Logistics is after all key to winning wars.”

The girl seems relieved over your request and quickly turns around, pushing her way towards the stairs. You offer a last forlorn look towards the brig’s doors, its watcher staring back at you impassively behind her black faceless helmet. You ascend with your guide, following her upwards and out of the thick air of the lower levels.

Even the minelayer’s mood seem to grow less dour as you ascend, passing through the hallways and past the occasionally abyssal, who regard you with mixed often unreadable expressions.

Eventually she brings you closer to the surface and the scent of salt air begins to become noticable again, however its twinged with an unidentifiable ozone smell and the steady beat of metal on metal becomes audible. She continues to lead you down nondescript steel hallways and up stairwells until she pauses outside a large doorway, where the noise and smell seems to come from. The sounds of busy work and manufacturing. As you approach, she pushes the door open, revealing the room’s exterior.

Even without the stripped and ruined forms of exotic aircraft filling the room, the large expanse makes it clear that the space originally served as a hanger. Now it evokes the feel of a blacksmith or a foundry. The first thing that greets you is the sweltering heat of the room. Even from the back of the hanger, the two large furnaces, smashed together from recovered components of the ship, bricks, and the unusually black metal the abyssals radiate an intense uncomfortable heat.

Nearly all the available floor space of the Workshop seems occupied, either via exotic cobbled together machinery or by large piles of unidentifiable scrap being melted and reprocessed into new components that are hammered and forged into place by the Abyssals laboring in the shop. Many of them appear to be small, barely humanoid creatures that skitter about dragging components out of scrap piles or manning the forge, but a few larger ones seem to offer direction. More humanoid in appearance, where many abyssals bear crude and exotic cannons, these girls backs appear to be alive with crude cranes and piston claws that shift large pieces of scrap metal into their work space. Focused on their work, the laborers of the room seem unmoved by your entrance

“Is it too your liking Lady Provence?” your guide excitedly asks, snapping you out of your focus.

You decline to answer, stepping further into the forge for a closer look.

>ask a question
>go ask one of the workers a question
>ask to review somewhere else
>take a closer look
>return to L’Audacieux
>other

>>3526482
>ask a question
These workers....the ones with cranes, who are they? They dont seem like ships.

Then we really should get back. I dont like leaving our buddy this long in this hellhole.

>>3526482
>>3527118
and
>take a closer look

>>3526482
>take a closer look

>>3528101
My bet would be they either cant speak or are only semi-sentient. Altho I'm curious how cranes got Abbysified

>>3527118
>>3527690
>>3528101
>>3528125
>These workers....the ones with cranes, who are they? They dont seem like ships.
>take a closer look

You step further into the workshop, doing your best to ignore the intense heat within. “Who are they?” You ask your guide, gesturing to a snow white haired Abyssal currently enthralled with bending a shaping steel around an object on a table before her. “You know, the girls with the cranes?”

She seems confused again by the statement, this time however her confusion seems to be over your ignorance rather than the question itself. “They are repair vessels Lady Provence. They serve Our Lady diligently by crafting arms and armament for our cause.”

“Ah.” You answer in affirmation, stepping closer to the Abyssal, noting with some unease that the project the repair ship is focused on seems to be almost alive. The craftsman’s work, shaping thin braces of metal seem to meld with a wriggling and squirming pile of pale flesh. The mass's movements struggling in place as the Abyssal fastens the two elements together together.

“What is she doing?” you ask, attempting to hide the discomfort from your voice.

Your guide looks at the project and shrugs, “Apologies Lady Provence. I’m not sure. I hear Our Lady in her great foresight seeks to improve our naval aviation wings though. Perhaps that’s what they work at?”

You nod idly, considering the work the creature is performing.

"It is so." The repair ship explains tonelessly, not bothering to divert her gaze from the project in question, intently eyeing the pulsating mass of flesh and metal through a small eyepiece attached to the side of her head. “We meld tirelessly for Our Lady. She needs aircraft to break the fortress of the heathens and we provide.”

You nod again. “I’m sure you’re doing great work.” you offer noncommittally.

“We serve Our Lady to the best of our abilities.” she adds, no hint of pride or rebuke in her tone.

The minelayer steps up to your flank hesitantly, glancing up at you as she approaches“Are you again satisfied with what you’ve seen here, or is there something else that you must understand?” She steps further into your line of sight and offers an eager smile “I will take you elsewhere if you desire Lady Provence. I am happy to serve.”

>ask a question
>go ask one of the workers a question
>ask to review somewhere else
>take a closer look
>return to L’Audacieux
>other

>>3529466
>take a closer look
>ask a question
What kind of airplanes are we in need of?

>>3529466
>>return to L’Audacieux
I doubt our room hasn't had any visitors from Bretagne

>>3529466
>>return to L’Audacieux

>>3530191
>>3533463
>>3534956

>apologies for the wait. Family emergency this weekend.

>What kind of airplanes are we in need of?
>return to L’Audacieux

You step forward and eye the repair ship’s work, though find yourself no more able to understand the mixture of surgery and construction that the Abyssal seems to be working on so intently. You offer a frown, “What sort of airplanes are we in need of?”

“Our Lady has instructed us to construct bombers Lady Provence.” The Abyssal answers, her gaze still completely focused on her work “as well, we need fighters to keep the skies clear so that we can punish the heretics from above.”

You nod in understanding. Giving one last concerned look towards the pulsing mass on the workbench before turning again back to your guide. “I think I’m ready to return to my quarters. Could you show me the way back?”

The minelayer nods enthusiastically “at once Lady Provence” she answers quickly. “We are happy to serve”.

>>3536318
You step out the room and let the Abyssal take the lead, guiding you again down the battered and worn corridor’s of the ruined carrier until the loud noises of the workshop begin to fade and the salty sea air begins to overpower the musky smell of decay that seems to fill the Abyssal fortress. Finally the halls began to grow familiar again until you step once again into the bow section of the ship and are greeted by the dark and foreboding form of your sister’s throne. Empty at the moment, but still lit by the same scattered flames that kept it illuminated during the morning. Stepping behind your guide down the hallways towards your quarters you notice immediately that something is wrong. Firstly by the way the escort in front of you begins to tense up in her steps, radiating a discomfort similar to her behavior at the brig. Secondly and more obviously is the familiar silhouette of a certain Abyssal battleship leaning against the hallway. Actually, you mentally correct yourself you move closer they’re leaning directly against the door to your quarters.

You grab your guide by the shoulder and stop her, surprising the Abyssal and causing her to jump slightly in your hands. You pry your eyes from the shape and offer the girl a smile. “Thanks.” you mention stepping by the minelayer. “I can make my way back from here.”

She seems relieved by your dismissal of her. “I am happy to serve Lady Provence.” she offers with a short courtesy.

“You are not dismissed.” The silhouette rebuffs, her tone sharp and distorted, as if spoken through a particularly harsh gramophone. The figure steps off the door and you’re surprised to notice that despite the similarities in build that she’s not in fact, your sister. Her hair is shorter and her face seems to replace the confident regal authority that Bretagne manages to exude with an aura that promises brutal violence. Complementing her brutish looks, the woman’s body and portions of her head seem to be covered with the brutal jagged metal of many Abyssal ships in a manner that makes it difficult to figure where the woman ends and the metal begins. “You have questions to answer.” The woman finishes, eyeing the minelayer intently and causing your former guide to shrink back noticeably.

You stand your ground defiantly crossing your arms and allowing the Minelayer to to slink behind you.

“Your sister was worried over you.” the battleship promises, glancing back towards the doorway to your quarters. “She was worried over where you had gotten off to. You’ll forgive her for going to your companion for answers.” the woman smirks slightly, leaning back onto the door. “After all, she prides herself in keeping guests safe.”

>ask her to move
>force your way past her
>ask her a question
>other

>>3536321
>ask her to move
And here I stand. Both of our curiosities are satisfied. I will be speaking with them now.

>>3536394
>ask her to mov
>And here I stand. Both of our curiosities are satisfied. I will be speaking with them now.

You cross your arms and adopt a defiant posture. “Here I stand.” you announce drly. “Both of our curiosities are satisfied. I will be speaking with them now.”

The battleship’s expression doesn’t seem to change from the malevolent glare she’s been offering but she steps off the door and moves herself to arms length of you, leaning close. “As a favor to her sister, I’ll give you some free advice. You take a lot of stock in being your Bretagne’s favorite.” she offers, quietly, clearly attempting to keep her voice away from your sister. “Know that your blood relation does not make you untouchable, nor her blind.”

You prepare a reply, but the battleship steps back and looks away, clearly not interested in anything you have to say and offering you an unobstructed route into the room. Biting back any retort, you take the opportunity to press on into your living quarters.

The nature of your sister’s dialogue with l’Audacieux is evident as soon as you enter. While your sister sits at the end of your bed, relaxed in posture, your escort seems to have retreated into a far corner of her own bed, clearly doing her best to push herself away from whatever aggressive line of questioning Bretagne has heaped upon her. The pair of them seem to abandon their conversation with your entry, your sister offering a polite smile and l’Audacieux giving an unconcealed expression of relief.

“Dear sister.” Bretagne offers in a relieved tone, rising from the bed and bringing you into an uncomfortably tight and desperate embrace. “I was ever so worried that you had gone again.” she mutters in a sad tone.

You pat her unsteadily on the back, doing your best to resist the growing uneasy feeling that rises with close proximity to Abyssals. “I hadn’t meant make you worry,” you explain, “It was just a simple look at the little kingdom you’ve created.”

You can feel her enthusiastic smile through the embrace, “and I hope it was a productive trip.” she proudly replies, still not relenting your grip. “But please don’t go off on your own like that again. We were all very worried over you, I thought you might have left the fortress and you mustn't do that- not with Hood’s agents prowling the waters.”

You break the embrace, prying yourself from Bretagne’s grip and offer what you hope sounds like a heartfelt apology.

>>3536807

“Well. It appears all the worry was for nothing. “With the hours growing late, I think it might be best for us to reconvene in the morning?” she mutters quietly before enthusiastically brightening and clapping you on the shoulder “Maybe we can go and try and bait some of Hood’s patrols? A good group effort to showcase our mutual strengths?”

>accept and bid Bretagne farewell, you need rest
>accept and bid Bretagne farewell, you need to talk to your escort (write in)
>accept but ask Bretagne a question about what you’ve seen
>decline
>other

>>3536808
>accept and bid Bretagne farewell, you need to talk to your escort (write in)
>inform l'Audacieux about the prisoners
>ask her what Bretagne was questioning her about

>>3536835
>accept and bid Bretagne farewell, you need to talk to your escort (write in)
>inform l'Audacieux about the prisoners
>ask her what Bretagne was questioning her about

You offer what you hope is a pleasant enough smile to your sister and return her enthusiasm to the idea of an attack on Hood’s patrols.

“Most excellent Dear Sister.” Bretagne purrs slyly, standing up and making her way towards the door. “Have a pleasant night and let’s prepare to hunt in the morning.”

You offer a confident nod. “Goodnight Bretagne,” you return before your sister departs, shutting the door carefully behind her.

The closing of the door is followed near immediately by a deep relieved sigh from l’Audacieux, the girl relaxes slightly and fidgets uncomfortably with her hair. “Thanks Provence.” she quietly mutters, glancing apprehensively towards the door.

“She didn’t hurt you did she?” you ask the destroyer “What was she asking about?”
Your escort shakes her head tiredly “No.” she quietly mutters. “She was just intense. Asking me where you were. She seemed to think I was hiding something.” the destroyer hesitates and shivers, avoiding your gaze. “Like I was conspiring against her- against you- I’m sorry Provence, I know I volunteered for this, but It might have been a mistake. I think your sister is looking for any excuse to throw me in the brig and I don’t like the sound of that.”

You shake your head solemnly in agreement. “I managed to get a look down there. It’s pretty dire. They’ve got three girls chained up and in all honesty it doesn’t look like they’re going to last much longer.”

The destroyer pales and gives the ground a worried look. “We can’t let them languish there Provence.” she pleads. “Not in this place.”

You offer l’Audacieux another reassuring look. “We’ll get them out of there,” you assure the destroyer, giving her what you hope is a comforting pat on the head. “But we can’t do it now. Not without knowing our situation better, let’s rest tonight. My sister may not have your best in mind but I don’t think she’ll try anything nefarious tonight. We’ll strategize in the morning”

She gives a half-hearted smile that you suspect she intends to exude confidence but fails utterly. “Right.” the destroyer mutters tiredly, glancing at the soiled sheets with distaste. “Best get some sleep than in the morning.”

You nod and offer departing remarks before settling on your own filth encrusted bed.

>>3536929

You are battleship Lorraine and you are not having a good day. The morning started well enough, the Italians may have their faults as warships but their food is second to none and your breakfast was punctuated by excited plans with Émile Bertin and the British shipgirls for training with your newly arrived dear sister Provence. The opportunity to spend time honing skills with Provence filled you with a newfound appreciation for your second life and was something you’ve been awaiting a long time. you reflect with bittersweet recollection.

Now as the sun sets through the windows of your quarters, everything seems less rosey. Your sister is gone and it’s your fault- driven away by the English and by your insistence on burying the past and getting along with her former foes. You tightly grip the collar of the greatcoat, still damp after your sister wore it into the docks and let out a deep sigh.

“Provence” you mutter quietly, gazing down at the greatcoat. “Where have you gone off to?

You reach towards your table towards your glass of Brandy and note with a frown that it seems to be missing, glancing up to where it was. Émile Bertin stands above you, returning your gaze sterly and setting the glass on a nearby shelf out of your reach. “Now is not the time Lorraine.” she mutters disapprovingly, glancing at the empty bottles laying scattered on the table. “We must tell the Navy Provence is missing, a coordinated search is in order.”

You ponder the idea, but it fills you with unease. Provence is your sister, mustering the Navy against her, even out of benevolence feels wrong and is likely to bring undue attention to her amongst the other ships and officers. But what other options do you have?

>suggest going to the Italian destroyers, you recall your sister was close to one of them and she might be able to offer excuse.
>Suggest going to Gorizia, the Italian cruiser your sister talked to about her dreams.
>Suggest going to the British carrier, her planes can offer a wide search pattern and is likely to rile less attention from the navy
>suggest the French ships, though extremely limited in number search the surrounding base and water, it’s foolhardy but might draw out something
>suggest asking the British cruisers your sister fought, maybe she said something to the girls
>check the docks, you recall your sisters strange dreams originated there.
>other

>Suggest going to Gorizia, the Italian cruiser your sister talked to about her dreams.

>>3536931
>Suggest going to Gorizia, the Italian cruiser your sister talked to about her dreams.

>>3536931
>suggest going to the Italian destroyers, you recall your sister was close to one of them and she might be able to offer excuse.
This build up is gonna be great when it all explodes

>>3537058
>>3537485
>Suggest going to Gorizia, the Italian cruiser your sister talked to about her dreams

“No.” you tiredly rebuke the cruiser, thinking the matter over. “Provence doesn’t need the entire Navy mustering to track her down. I think I know already about where she is or-what’s she doing. She mentioned before she left, dreams she’s been having. The dreams are about our sister.”

Émile Bertin says nothing, standing above you still with a disapproving glare.

“I think I need to talk to Gorizia.” you muse aloud in a slurred tone, standing on unsteady legs. “Provence was meeting with her. She knew about Bretagne”

The journey to the cruiser’s room passes in a half drunk haze as you wander through the hallways, idly doing your best to recall just how many empty bottles of brandy were on your table by the time you left. The number is on the edge of your mind by the time you’ve realized your legs stopped. Right outside a door labeled “Gorizia” and “Fiume”. You offer a pounding knock on the door and hear a series of voices inside, one confused, the other rather furious. The door swings open, revealing a scarred and angry Italian cruiser. Clearly from her lack of dress she just woken up.

“Gorizia.” you offer, identifying the woman before you with a half smile. “I’m looking for Provence.”

“She’s not here.” The Italian scowels, moving the close the door on your face.

You extend an arm, blocking the door open. You may be ever so slightly intoxicated, but you’ve still got the horsepower of a battleship backing you up and the Italian cruiser quickly abandons her efforts shortly with an annoyed grimace. “I know, she’s gone.” you sadly answer. “We had a fight and she left.”

A concerned voice sounds from within the room, opening a rapid fire dialogue between the two Italians that ends with Gorizia offering an intense gaze in your direction, undermined by an unusual amount of concern for the cruiser. “Gone where?” she asks, opening the door to the room in invitation

You shake your head and step inside. “I was hoping you could help with that.” you answer, doing your best to keep your tone as sober sounding as possible. “She talked to you about her dreams. About Bretagne, she mentioned seeing her again before she left.”

The Italian thinks over this grabs a pack of cigarettes from a bedside table and lights one up, before tossing the pack to the room’s second occupant, a blonde of similar build to Gorizia seated upon the second bed with a concerned expression, presumably Fiume.

>>3537624

“I think Provence is trying to find her.” You uneasily start. “But I don’t know where she is now.”
“Where did the dreams take place?” Fiume interjects through a now lit cigarette.

“The dockyards-” you mumble again before letting out a half smile. “She had just gotten into a fight with the British. She doesn’t seem to be willing to let bygones be bygones.”

“Same place as the first.” Gorizia confirms aloud. “You haven’t had similar visions have you?”

“No. Never. Whatever Bretagne is now, I don’t think she forgives me for fighting for the allies.” you frown and let out a sigh, running your fingers through your hair tiredly. “For that matter, Provence doesn’t either.”

The standing cruiser takes a thoughtful drag of her cigarette. “It might not hurt to try. Though if you haven’t had anything so far, it might just be wasting time.”

“What’s the alternative?” You ask tiredly.

She thinks about this for a second “I know there are Abyssals near Algeria. Even after the battle of Algiers they seem to be getting all the more restless, aggressive, pushing us harder. We lost a squadron the other day, nearly to a man except for the little minelayer Lepanto.”

“That’s near where my sister came back.” you muse aloud. “Near the old colony.”

“Near Mers-el-Kébir” the Italian adds idly, stoking her cigarette. “The Abyssals are creatures of habit. Emotionally grounded to the past. Perhaps you will find your sisters there.”

>Head west immediately, there’s no time to waste and Provence is in trouble
>try the dockyards. Maybe Bretagne’s recent communication with her sister can be replicated
>Wait until morning and head west in force, with whoever you can convince to help.
>inform the admiralty and suggest planning an operation, there will be delay, but you need to make a concentrated effort.
>you need to try and find more evidence, maybe someone else can help you here?
>other

>>3537632
>you need to try and find more evidence, maybe someone else can help you here?
Go to the Italian DDs for more clues.

>inform the admiralty and suggest planning an operation, there will be delay, but you need to make a concentrated effort.

>>3537761
>you need to try and find more evidence, maybe someone else can help you here?
>Go to the Italian DDs for more clues.
>inform the admiralty and suggest planning an operation, there will be delay, but you need to make a concentrated effort.

You mull over the cruiser’s implications and nod, the gesture more dramatic than you intended under the brandy’s influence. “Maybe I should talk to her- Lepanto. The girl my sister ran into. I know Provence spent a lot of time with her and that destroyer.”

“Legionario” the Italian cruiser offers before shrugging. “I’m not sure how much the Lepanto can help given your sister couldn’t talk to her- but Provence may have offered Legionario something that she did not tell us.”

“Thanks.” you offer, standing upright and offering a guilty and not at all drunk smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for barging in- it’s just.” you trail off, stumbling backwards slightly.

The Italian’s expression remains sternly unreadable and she takes a drag from the cigarette, you take that as an opportunity to step out, pulling the door back open and stepping into the dimly lit corridors. Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and offering an disapproving expression of greeting is Émile Bertin.

You frown at her as the door shuts behind you to the sound of angry Italian. “Émile, what are you doing here? How did you know where I was going?”

“You told me.” the cruiser offers with an angry grimace. “And someone needs to make sure you don’t make a fool of the French Navy.” she lectures, reaching forward to adjust your cap that had fallen lopsided onto your head. “Clearly you’re too drunk to do it yourself.”

You shoot her an angry look, the disapproval in your gaze doing nothing to move the cruiser. “Provence is missing.” you slur angrily, “I need to find her.”

“One of my charges is missing as well. One of the girls I’ve been told to lead and protect. Do you think I don’t empathize?” She asks, her anger and frustration suddenly boiling through the question. “You’re not going to find her by yourself Lorraine. And you’re sure as shit not going to do it drunk. Even if you do, what are you going to do? Randomly wander the coastline fighting any Abyssal you come across until she falls back into your lap?”

“If I have to.” you answer countering the cruiser’s anger with an immediate determination that surprises even yourself.

The cruiser’s expression softens before she sighs and shakes her head offering the expression of disappointment you’ve seen her give her destroyer charges. “You can’t do that Lorraine.” she mutters. “I’ll go to the admiralty. We need to make a concentrated effort together, not send you in half cocked and alone firing your cannons wildly.”

>>3539287
You prepare a retort but it dies in your mouth as your brandy-addled brain begins considering the merits of her plan. “Okay.” you admit before adopting an uncompromising state. “You go to the admiralty. But I want to talk to the destroyers. I know Provence talked a lot with them.”

“Okay.” Émile relents finally, “I’ll make some calls.”

You nod and turn down the hallway. Doing your best to walk straight and upright, for the cruiser’s benefit if not yours.

The destroyers seem just as annoyed by your intrusion as the cruisers did, and the door to the quarters Legionario shares with her sister Alpino opens, revealing the groggy form of Legionario. The destroyer’s currently clad in a set of red and white striped pajamas that you frankly would have found adorable had you not been both drunk and desperate to find Provence.

“Ciao- Lorraine?” the destroyer mutters, rubbing sleep and confusion from her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“Ciao.” you reply tersely, “Provence is missing, so is one of our destroyers.” you offer in response to the girl’s second query, the suddenness of the statement causing the destroyer’s eyes to widen in alarm, leaving you with a guilty pang over your inconsideration.

She opens the door and steps back, offering you a path inside her room and bringing you inside before closing the door quietly behind her. “Where-?” she begins. “Is this about Bretagne?” she finishes quietly.

You nod along. “I think so. she mentioned our sister before she left ”

“She mentioned her briefly once after seeing her in dreams. But we hadn’t even gotten to talk much since she got back from the convoy.” the destroyer turns serious “How can I help Lorraine? Please. Provence is my friend and I won’t just sit by while she’s gone.”

>ask her something in particular
>tell her your plan
>ask for advice
>other

>>3539290
>ask her something in particular
The convoy -- where again did you make contact with the Abyssals? From which direction?

>>3539290
Support >>3539650

>>3539650
Supporting

>>3539968
>>3539692
>>3539650

>ask her something in particular
>tell her your plan
>ask for advice
>other

>ask her something in particular
>The convoy -- where again did you make contact with the Abyssals? From which direction?

“When you were attacked in the convoy heading to Toulons about where did you make contact with the Abyssals?”

The Italian seems flustered by the question “You didn’t see?”

“Sort of” you admit, “But I just traded fire from a distance, it was hard to pick out where the Abyssals were coming from or where the ambush started.”

“Oh-sorry. I wasn’t in the convoy” she offers with a disappointed tone, before jumping up with newfound determination. “I’ll go ask Mitraglieri.” she adds, making her way to the door. “I told her to watch Provence too, so I’m sure she can help.”

You begin to form a comment but it dies halfway in your mount as the destroyer bounds out the door and you hear sudden knocking sounds and yelling in Italian from out in the hallway. A door swings open and the confused Italian chatter bears closer until a second girl enters, confused tired and wearing pajamas identical to Legionario. You’d think it cute, but you’re too drunk and strained to offer a teasing rebuke.

“Miss Lorraine?” the new girl asks clearly confused and tired like every other Italian you’ve been interrogating today. “I heard Provence is gone. Where did she go?”

“I was hoping you can help with that,” you answer with a tired smile, “During the attack on the convoy to Toulons. Which way did the Abyssals attack?”

“But what does that have to do with-?” She begins before thinking the question over briefly. “It was about two hours in and kind of chaotic. First we had a sonar contact and periscope sighting, that was to the port side. The west.”

“So the submarines came from the same direction from the surface ships we traded fire with?”

She shakes her head. “The one who shot at us, she surfaced to the starboard. I don’t know if it was the same submarine travelling past our convoy to attack or a different one though.”

“That does seem an unusual method of attack.” you admit thoughtfully. “My sister was in the frigate during the attack though, yes?”

The girl nods. “Luigi Cadorna was very adamant that she remained there, I don’t think she ever left the bridge.”

How do you proceed
>ask further questions
>Wait until morning and head west in force, with whoever you can convince to help.
>you need to try and find more evidence, maybe someone else can help you here?
>try the dockyards. Maybe Bretagne’s recent communication with her sister can be replicated
>ask the british who fought with her
>talk to the minelayer
>other

>>3540044
>>talk to the minelayer
Lepanto was in the general area when Provence woke up. Could be useful.
>>Wait until morning and head west in force, with whoever you can convince to help.
Then we should form that rescue team. Sis needs our help!

>>talk to the minelayer
Lepanto was in the general area when Provence woke up. Could be useful.
>>Wait until morning and head west in force, with whoever you can convince to help.
Then we should form that rescue team. Sis needs our help!

“Well it seems like the Abyssals interested in Provence are mulling somewhere west of here.” you mull over thoughtfully. “Somewhere in Algeria”

“That’s still a long coastline.” Legionario points out with a frown. “And Abyssals can be sneaky.”

You nod, “The girl my sister first ran into- the minelayer, Legionario. Maybe she can help?”

“She’d at least be able to get us closer.” Legionario agrees, brightening slightly. “Wait here. I’ll go get her.”

“You’re going to wake the whole base at this rate,” Mitraglieri sulks as her sister darts out of the room, leaving the two of you in awkward silence and making you aware of your gradually increasing sobriety as the minutes stretch out. You give the door a good stare, willing the destroyer to come back. Your thoughts and worries grow as you find the first break since your sister left again that wasn’t filled with alcohol.

“I’ll help.” Mitraglieri offers quietly, breaking the heavy silence that was built between you. “I didn’t know Provence well. But Legionario likes her. I like people who Legionario likes.”

You smile tiredly at her offer. “Thanks.” you reply. “I’m grateful.”

She nods happily before the door swings open, a determined looking Legionario guiding a young looking minelayer who, unlike all of the other girls you’ve disturbed on your quest to find your sister, seems fiercely awake and determined. Lepanto enters the room and immediately seats herself directly across from you, shooting you an intense look before barking a short phrase in Italian.

>>3541385

“She wants to help.” Legionario translates, though even to your alcohol addled mind the minelayer’s intent was obvious.

“Thanks.” you reply with another tired smile. “I’d like to know where you found Provence. Where the Abyssals who attacked her came from.”
Legionario translates the questions, leading to the minesweeper shaking her head and blurting out something in Italian in a determined tone.

“Lepanto says Provence saved her, she didn’t find Provence.” Legionario translates with a sheepish look. “She doesn’t know where the Abyssals came from, but said they got attacked a few miles east from Algiers.” The destroyer patiently waits as the minelayer provides additional details. From the distressed look on Lepanto’s face she’s not happy to recount the attack, but seems genuinely determined to help find your sister. “She said they attacked from the west while laying mines and the Abyssals hit them with long distance gunfire and hidden torpedo boats. She got seperated and made her way some ways east for some time before being hit and slowed down. That’s when your sister showed up, also from the west.”

“She came from the same direction as the Abyssals?”

Legionario repeats the question in Italian and the minelayer nods and answers. “Yes.” your translator confirms, “though she didn’t see Provence amongst the group earlier. Lepanto thinks she arrived from the north or from inland.”

“I see.” you confirm, standing and ruffling the determined minelayer on the head. “Thanks- to all of you. I need to talk to some friends to see if we can’t get my sister to come back home.”

>(pick 1-2 groups for Lorraine to go to for help)
>ask the British for help, they have air cover to help with the search and help ID any Abyssal sneakyness. Seeing Royal Navy roundels flying above her may not put your sister in the best mood though.
>ask the Italians for help, you don’t have a good read on Gorizia but you’re pretty sure you could get a few destroyers to assist.
>ask Émile Bertin for help. You know the girl prefers to wait for a concentrated attack but you know how matronly she can get and one of her destroyers is missing too.
>go on your own, you’re a battleship and any show of force might put Provence and whoever else might be out there on edge.

This is going to be the last bit for the Lorraine POV and probably the end of Part 3. I have a weekend work event coming up, but will start again with Part 4 monday afternoon. As this is my first quest threat, I’d appreciate C&C or anything else you can offer to help it run smoother in the future. Thanks

>>3541392
>ask Émile Bertin for help. You know the girl prefers to wait for a concentrated attack but you know how matronly she can get and one of her destroyers is missing too.

>>3541392
>ask the Italians for help, you don’t have a good read on Gorizia but you’re pretty sure you could get a few destroyers to assist.
>ask Émile Bertin for help. You know the girl prefers to wait for a concentrated attack but you know how matronly she can get and one of her destroyers is missing too.
Probably the best mix. The brits coming along would probably provoke disaster. If not from Provence them whatever Abyssals are in the area

>>3541392
>ask Émile Bertin for help. You know the girl prefers to wait for a concentrated attack but you know how matronly she can get and one of her destroyers is missing too.
>ask the Italians for help, you don’t have a good read on Gorizia but you’re pretty sure you could get a few destroyers to assist.