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Rosegate
Rosegate (Map)
SS Locations Rosegate Map.png
Rosegate (Gazetteer)
SS Locations Rosegate.png
Located in Stamford's Expanse
Ports Rosegate
Shops Proving Ground
Shipyard None

Rosegate is an underzee port accessible for captains with a zubmarine from the Zubmariner DLC, in Stamford's Expanse, near the Isle of Cats and Visage.

Rosegate[]

Port description[]

It's not so much a port, as a shop with a dock. Coloured ceiling lights shine onto display cases lining the walls. A large shop-counter dominates the room. Cigars, ashtrays, guillotines, matches and carved boxes are all for sale. Each step here transports you into a new realm: at one moment, the heady aroma of summer flowers; then, the earthy fug of fungus; the bitter warmth of morning coffee; the sickening sweetness of sweat and midnight honey.

Interactions[]

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Take a pamphlet

Neatly printed histories of the shop are stacked high on one of the display cases. A notice encourages visitors to take one.

Self-published plaudits

The pamphlet describes Rosegate as a cigar shop, with a factory on the upper floor. (True.) Here, they produce and sell an unparalleled variety of cigars. (Also true.) The Tobacconist is described as a world-renowned figure, respected for his dedication to his craft and the brilliance of his vision. (Hmm.) The pamphlet boasts that his genius will forever alter the tobacconists' art. (Well, that remains to be proven.)

Sample a high quality cigar

A rosewood box full of cigars sits on the counter. They smell of beeswax.

The Crotchety Tobacconist cuts you a cigar and lights it. You draw slowly - your mouth fills with a flavoured fog; heavy on the tongue, like honey liqueur. The Tobacconist smiles. "Your mouth will start to burn, soon. Tolerate it - it's a transition phase, before something rather refreshing. See what I mean? Just hold..."
Go away! We're closed!

The Crotchety Tobacconist sits smoking behind the shop-counter. The ashtray next to him is stacked with cigar butts. "I cannot assist you until my Apprentice returns." Well, where did his Apprentice go?

"I sent him on an errand. He just had to collect a parcel from - b____r, where was it? Either the Empire of Hands or the Tomb Colonies." He sits up and stretches. His joints crack loudly. "I have very important work, and it can't continue without him. Please, unless you've news of the boy, leave me be."
Witness a reunion

The Crotchety Tobacconist bends over the shop-counter, annotating a large sheet of paper. He glances up at the Dogged Apprentice, and bites down on his cigar. His face is blackened with soot. "Last batch blew up on me. Doesn't look like you've been doing much better yourself."

A man's hope

The Crotchety Tobacconist reaches across the counter to shake your hand. "Our patron has forsaken us. He's only interested in his project to the south. He left my Apprentice to starve, and he hasn't arranged a delivery of the materials I require. I've run out of rubies to try to convince him otherwise. Which makes your intervention all the more propitious." He puffs a great ring of smoke into the air above your head; it takes several moments for the halo to disperse.

"Addressed As, we're on the verge of a tremendous breakthrough. I'm about to create something beautiful. Something noble. A cigar which will burn underwater. I think I've finally found the right mixture." He taps the sheet on his counter - it is covered in incomprehensible scrawling, equations beyond the mathematical. "Three flavours. Something robust; something bitter; and something luscious. Once I have them, I can finally complete it."

Witness a reunion

The Crotchety Tobacconist bends over the shop-counter, annotating a large sheet of paper. He glances at the Dogged Apprentice, and bites down on his cigar. His face is blackened with soot. "Last batch blew up on me. Welcome back."

A man's hope

The Crotchety Tobacconist reaches across the counter to shake your hand. "Our Patron has forsaken us. He's only interested in his project to the south. He left my Apprentice to starve, and he hasn't arranged a delivery of the materials I require. I've run out of rubies to try and convince him otherwise. Which makes your intervention all the more propitious." He puffs a great ring of smoke into the air above your head; it takes several moments for the halo to disperse.

"Addressed As, we're on the verge of a tremendous breakthrough. I'm about to create something beautiful. Something noble. A cigar which will burn underwater. I think I've finally found the right mixture." He taps the sheet on his counter - it is covered in incomprehensible scrawling, equations beyond the mathematical. "Three flavours. Something robust; something bitter; and something luscious. Once I have them, I can finally complete it."

The creation of a cigar

The Crotchety Tobacconist has a dream: to create a cigar that can be smoked underwater. And with your help, it might come true.

"Bitter. Luscious. Robust. Three flavours, and we'll have the cigar."
Challenge the Tobacconist to a game of cards

Business is slow today, as it is everyday - the shop's not on the typical trade routes. The Tobacconist may well appreciate a game.

Magnanimous in victory

The game is close, but his set of Jacks drives off your Beloved, earning him the victory. He relaxes back in his chair, and puffs contentedly at a particularly fat cigar. "Well played, Addressed As," he says, pushing a box of cigars over to you. "Well played. Have one of these." He closes his eyes and draws deeply before emitting a steady stream of hazy smoke. It smells like a London fireplace. Like home.

Rare event (50%)
Angry in defeat

There: a Cruel Queen and Besieged King - you bind his shark. You'll win in two turns, unless he concedes defeat now. The Crotchety Tobacconist snorts, snatches the cards off the table, and flings them into the air. He storms up the stairs to his workshop. The Dogged Apprentice waits till the door has slammed before scurrying over, muttering apologies.

Deliver supplies to Rosegate

Without their patron, the Tobacconist and his Apprentice have to subsist on their stale stores of food. Even the Apprentice is growing crotchety. They will pay well for fresh rations.

The Crotchety Tobacconist rings open his till and counts out your payment. Most of the notes are mouldy and crumbling with age, but it will still count as legal tender.
Buy a crate of cigars for the ship

The Tobacconist smiles convivially. "I've a flavour that may intrigue you, Addressed As. It's as hearty as any stew. It'll take your mind off hunger."

The Dogged Apprentice carries the crate onto your zubmarine. The Crotchety Tobacconist finishes writing out your receipt. "An Absolute pleasure," he says, signing his name with a flourish. "I hope you enjoy them thoroughly."
Attend a free public lecture

The Crotchety Tobacconist has been developing a series of lecture to share with the public. And now that the public has finally arrived...

An hour's rest

The Dogged Apprentice does have a life beyond making cigars, if only for an hour a day. He'd gladly spend it with you.

A cigar break

The Crotchety Tobacconist is rarely seen at rest. But sometimes he'll step away from the shop-counter and the workbench to enjoy his pleasures by the hearth, blazing at the back of the shop.

Is the Crotchety Tobacconist well?

He isn't smoking.

He stoops over the glass counter, and gazes at his reflection. "It can't wait any longer. We'll make do with what we have. Come back later."
Put a blemmigan ashore

Rosegate isn't the largest port, but there are many nooks where a mushroom may hide.

The blemmigan wriggles excitedly. Tendrils flick in and out, as if it is tasting the air of Rosegate. Abruptly, it scurries beneath an ostentatious display case and vanishes.
Set down your traveller from Dahut

She was on her way here, before her travel was interrupted. Her appetite for cigarillos is unabated.

Shopping again

The Drownies tempted her with a false cigar, she says: but here is the source of the real thing, and there's no comparison at all. She walks the aisles, as enthralled as anyone might be in the sway of Dahut. She can't reward you, she says. But perhaps the Composer in Wrack who arranged her freedom will be glad to know she was set free.


Rosegate: After the Cigar
SS rosegategaz.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 234658

Rosegate: After the Cigar[]

Rosegate: After the Cigar replaces the above after SS pocketwatchsmall.png Rosegate: The Tobacconist's Impatience reaches 16 and you finish the chain of events beginning with SS cigarsmall.png Final Preparations.

Port description[]

Coloured lights still shine down on the gleaming counter. The rich aroma of cigars still permeates the air. But the ever-full ashtrays are missing and there is nothing new on display.

Interactions[]

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Take a pamphlet

Neatly printed histories of the shop are stacked high on one of the display cases. A notice encourages visitors to take one. They have not been changed since your business here.

The pamphlet describes Rosegate as a cigar shop, with a factory on the upper floor. (Still true.) Here, they produce and sell an unparalleled variety of cigars. (They no longer produce cigars here.) The Tobacconist is described as a world-renowned figure, respected for his dedication to his craft and the brilliance of his creative vision. (His dedication is well beyond doubt.) The pamphlet boasts that his genius will forever alter the tobacconists' art. (Not implausible.)
A last request

The Crotchety Tobacconist and the Dogged Apprentice sit in abject silence, at opposite corners of the counter. "Neither of us has anything left here," the Tobacconist says, and sighs. "And arrangements for Rosegate have arrived. If you'll do nothing more, just take us away from here."

The Crotchety Tobacconist strides past you, not pausing to bid farewell to Rosegate. He only shouts over his shoulder: "To the Iron Republic," and boards. The Dogged Apprentice is slower to board; he all but shuffles to you. "The Grand Geode," he whispers, before entering the vessel and leaving Rosegate to the dark.
Smoke a cigar with the Powdered Custodian

A new gentleman sits behind the glass counter, polishing it to a blazing shine. He smiles as you approach. "Welcome to Rosegate, Addressed As. May I entice you to a cigar?"

The Powdered Custodian cheerfully cuts and lights cigars for you both. "It's grand to enjoy a few words with these cigars. God knows how much longer I'll be down here alone." He puffs, and spends the next minute coughing into his arm.

After he recovers, he attempts a smile. "Forgive me; I may be the current proprietor of Rosegate, but I'm merely a stand-in. After my patron heard Rosegate had been abandoned, they sent me in to replace the Tobacconist. Though we revoked our support for him, Rosegate is too great an investment to leave to the zee-beasts."

A last request

A suitcase sits in front of the shop-counter. One or two errant socks hang from the seams. "It's time for the work to truly begin," the Crotchety Tobacconist says. "Arrangements for Rosegate have already arrived. All's settled; could I just trouble you to take me from here?" He blows a ring before glancing at his Apprentice, sitting in the other corner of the counter. He corrects himself. "Take us?"

The Crotchety Tobacconist strides into your zubmarine, humming a jaunty tune. "To the Iron Republic!" he cries, before resuming his song. The Dogged Apprentice is slower to board; he all but shuffles to you. "The Grand Geode," he whispers, before entering your vessel and leaving Rosegate to the dark.
Put a blemmigan ashore

Rosegate isn't the largest port, but there are many nooks where a mushroom may hide.

The mushroom wriggles excitedly. Tendrils flick in and out, as if it is tasting the air of Rosegate. Abruptly, it scurries behind an ostentatious cigar box and vanishes into the dark.
Drop off the prisoner from Dahut

Not quite what she was expecting.

Looking around

She looks around her with an expression of mixed eagerness and dismay. This is the destination she has been seeking all this time, but she did not expect to find the shop without its former proprietor.

"All the same," she says, straightening her back as she often did in the cells of Dahut. "I have seen worse. You may safely leave me here, Addressed As. I need a cheroot, and time to consider."

She can't reward you, she says. But perhaps the Composer in Wrack who arranged her freedom will be glad to know she was set free.


Locations
Ports Abbey RockAdam's WayAestivalAigulAntheAvid HorizonChapel of LightsChelonateCodexCumaean Canal Staging AreaDahutDemeaux IslandEmpire of HandsFallen LondonThe Fathomking's HoldFrostfoundGaider's MournGant PoleGodfallGrand GeodeHideawayHunter's KeepIremIron RepublicIsle of CatsKhan's GloryKhan's HeartKhan's ShadowKingeater's CastleLow BarnetMangrove CollegeMount PalmerstonMutton IslandNookNuncioPigmote IslePolythremePort CarnelianPort CecilRosegateSalt LionsScrimshanderShepherd IslesStation IIIThe UndercrowThe UttershroomVarchasVenderbightVisageWhitherWisdomWrack
Places of Interest An Abyss...The Admiralty Survey OfficeAvernusThe Brass EmbassyDawn MachineDrydockThe EyeThe Forgotten QuarterThe House of the QuestionLight-ShipNaplesQuaker's HavenRoser's WharfSurfaceThe UniversityViennaWolfstack DocksThe Wreck of the NocturneYour Lodgings
Characters Blind BruiserMerchant VenturerThe Dark-Spectacled AdmiralThe FathomkingThe First Curator
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