Nacreous Outcast is a potential Cook crew member.
"It drips eagerly. Perhaps if it comes to your cabin you should put down some sort of matting."
The Nacreous Outcast can be obtained by initiating the Pulse of the Principles storyline.
The Nacreous Outcast can be promoted to the Nacreous Survivor by choosing to lose the match at the conclusion of the Pulse of the Principles storyline.
Alternatively, if you choose to win the match, you can purchase him back as the Nacreous Survivor from the Fathomking at the extreme cost of:
1 x Colossal Fluke-Core, 1 x Searing Enigma, 7 x Captivating Treasure, 7 x Scintillack (the combined sale value of these items on London markets is 8,990 echoes).
Note: If you wish to revive the Nacreous Survivor later, it is critical that you have dinner with him before finishing the Pulse of the Principles quest
|Increase your Hearts
Share an interesting truth of your own, and your officer may impress you.
"Flif your hanf on the ftool. Farphaf! Ophen your eyess."
The Outcast has gnostic secrets of profound culinary import to impart. Even its lesser revelations are enough to touch your dreams with the dread of drowning. Perhaps fortunately, it gets so excited when it talks about the greater revelations that you don't have any idea what the hell it's on about.
|Game Note: Spend a Secret to improve your Hearts, unless it's higher than 150.|
|Invite it to dine with you
You'll need a suitable morsel.
|It shakes its head firmly, tentacles slapping its neck
"Shalt-Flions," it lisps. "Shaltsh Ftention." It turns an earnest eye to you. Apparently it wants to visit the Salt-Lions before it will speak further to you. At least no other crew were around to witness a Rubbery Man rejecting a human invitation.
|Invite it to dine with you
You'll need a suitable morsel.
|An untidy dinner
Where did it learn to cook? Not in its amber-smeared home-tunnels, because it obviously prefers its food raw. Between gulps and flabbers, it attempts to chat.
It's hard to decipher its words. Its mouth is full of fish-flesh; its mind is alien; and besides, it's terribly shy. Consequently, the evening is not a great success.
But you learn a little of its past. It was abandoned in Port Cecil for Rubbery crimes - crimes whose nature quite slip the surly bonds of language. The Principles found it an apt tool, and has been its patron ever since. It begins to say "I ushed to love - " and then suddenly excuses itself.
|Proposition to the Narcreous Outcast
It is not unknown for romantic tastes at sea to grow specialised.
|Principles' End: Principality ≥ 11 Romance: an Affair with... ≤ 0 Nacreous Survivor ≤ 0||Sadness?
"The Outcast shakes its head. "Nishe," it manages. "But- I belong to Prinshiplesh. Excush. Excush." It leaves, with a single longingly glaucous glance."
|Shattered Citadel Encounters||Let the Nacreous Outcast approach the altar
He burbles: his frondules tremble.
|"Imitatorsh," the Outcast burbles. "They shtole our Axile artsh. They fought. They would be ush." It shakes with rage or laughter, and collapses before the altar. "Shtill, the change remainsh. The change remainsh!"
It's the longest speech you've ever heard from it. It remains motionless in prayer while you search. An inscription on the altar reads SO ARE WEE SHAPEDE. The stonecraft is perfect, but the spelling seems eccentric. Two stone knives rest on its surface, along with a chunk of flint that might be a knife, a tool or simply a lump of rock.
Three human skulls wait in a niche at the back. Two have warped and lengthened jaws: the third has slumped and run like a melted candle, although it feels as solid as any bone to the touch. What now? You can press on, but the going will get harder from here. Or you could turn back with your treasures.
You've brought the Nacreous Outcast here. With luck, it knows why.
|Moist wide eyes
"Shaltsh Ftentshion," it insists. "Godshly!" It gestures at the face of the northern sphinx. It brandishes the cruet.
|Game note: You'll need Salt's Attention to continue. You can gain it in Whither, among other places.|
The face of the northern sphinx is all but gone, but the Nacreous Outcast scrambles doggedly up. It pauses at the top, and then flips into the air - an arc as precise as a compass-line, down into the darkness of the zee. It's gone with barely a splash.
You wait. There is no reason for alarm. It can probably breathe water. You wait longer. There is a certain degree of decorous alarm. Longer still, and the alarm manifests in the form of zailors clustering casually by the rail - only casually, because no one would admit any concern for the fate of a Rubbery Man.
The Rubbery Man surfaces! It mounts the steps to the quay, with the ceremonious delight of a vicar mounting the steps to a pulpit. It holds a sphinxstone chess-piece aloft in its hand... "Principles," it wheezes.
|The Pulse of the Principles||Offer assistance with dissolution
In the flow of air through the cavern, you hear the voice of the Principles, langorously pleading. "I offer an assistant," it flutes. "And scintillack. You enjoy scintillack, aren't you?"
|Principality = 6||An assistant
A Rubbery Man rises from a cyst in the floor. An iridescent cicatrice crosses its face. Even in this flood of silvery light, it pulses like a fevered moon. It shuffles closer.
"Shalt-Flions," it wheezes. Unprecedented! A Rubbery capable of human speech (in however debased and pitiful a mode!)
"My emissary," the cave whispers. "Treat it gently." The whisper follows you back up the steps. "Take it to the Salt-Lions..."
|The Pulse of the Principles||Win the match
The Principles will be reduced, as it desires, to a mindless hump of coral. The Outcast stands trembling behind the board, ready to enact the Principles' moves: its mind will be destroyed with its master's.
||Move and counter-move. The pieces click and hiss on the board. The victory is easy. The Emissary whimpers and topples his own Kin; he begins to melt like snow in a desert wind.
Scintillack sloughs from the roof, gathers around you in great shining drifts. The voice of the Principles washes over you like the zee, urgently chanting secrets. For every one you hear, another two are lost to the grinding of the rock, or incomprehensible to a mind that has not laired centuries beneath the waves... but you learn, and learn. Your brain is bursting with knowledge.
Now the voice of the Principles falters, is gone. It subsides into happy mindfulness with a last melodious sigh. The Outcast's face blinks at you from its puddle of goo, and then it too dissolves.
The Wakeful Idol which sat on the chess-board now squats by your feet, eyes bright. The Principles had suggested that it would become more, when the Principles became less. It seems a little taller, somehow.
|The Pulse of the Principles||Lose the match
You are enmeshed in an alien scheme. Perhaps you mistrust it. Perhaps you pity the Outcast. Whatever your motives, you will throw the match on purpose, leaving the Principles trapped in consciousness, defeating the purpose of this whole quest.
You make a foolish move. Another. Hope dawns in the Outcast's moistly shining eyes. The Principles rumbles as it guesses your intent. The Outcast twitches with delight. It moves its Night. Your Kin is imperilled.
"Now I regret," the Principles sighs. "Now at last I regret. I regret trusting you, stranger. And you, my Emissary, who was almost me -"
The Emissary makes its final move. You topple your Kin. The cave around you is silent. The Outcast straightens, taller than you have ever seen him: it extends a slippery appendage to shake your hand. Together, you climb the steps back to Port Cecil. The Principles never speaks to you again.
|The Throne-Cyst||"Give me back my Outcast."
"Its mind is gone," the King warns you. "But if you have a Fluke-Core, the Core can become its new identity - "
|0 x Nacreous Outcast 0 x Nacreous Survivor 1 x Colossal Fluke-Core 1 x Searing Enigma 7 x Captivating Treasure 7 x Scintillack Learning About: The Nacreous Outcast ≥ 1||A triple hybrid?
Guards in thorned exoskeletons issue from a dark slit behind the throne. Your Nacreous friend walks between them. Its eyes are unreadable. "It is not as it was," the King informs you. "That is gone forever. Rejoice. You walk in the company of a risen god."
|Cooks||Bandaged Chef-Paramount • Bandaged Poissonnier • Nacreous Outcast • Nacreous Survivor • Scrimshaw Chronicler • Shady Cook|
|Chief Engineers||Gall-Eyed Engineer • Genial Magician • Prudent Magician • The Satisfied Magician • The Urbane Magician • Maybe's Daughter • Maybe's Rival • Nobody's Daughter • Tireless Mechanic|
|First Officers||Carnelian Exile • Sigil-Eaten Navigator • Sigil-Ridden Navigator • Sly Navigator • The Merciless Modiste • Your Father|
|Gunnery Officers||Irrepressible Cannoneer • Longshanks Gunner • Presbyterate Adventuress • Wistful Deviless|
|Surgeons||Brisk Campaigner • Cladery Heir • Determined Doctor • Disillusioned Doctor • Haunted Doctor • Indomitable Campaigner • Plausible Surgeon • The Lady in Lilac • The Scarred Sister|
|Mascots||Albino Tinkerer • Comatose Ferret • Elegiac Cockatoo • Eyeless Skull • Guinea Page • Keeper-Moth • Monkey Foundling • Parabolan Kitten • Parabolan Panther • Vigilant Idol • Wretched Mog|