The Revenue Men | |
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Category | Story Event |
Type | Story |
Linked to | Fallen London |
Data ID | 135245 |
The Revenue Men is a Sunless Sea Story Event.
Trigger conditions[]
The Revenue Men is triggered when you dock in Fallen London and have the following:
- Something Awaits You ≥ 1 and ≤ 30
Story description[]
Her Enduring Majesty's Customs Service works closely with both the Ministry of Public Decency, and the Masters of the Bazaar. Today, they have selected you for an inspection. Don't cheek them.
Interactions[]
Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes |
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Let them do their worst
You have nothing to hide. |
Vexed and frustrated
They roam your deck like wolves. They tear through your belongings like termites. At last they leave.
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Game note: This will also reduce your Suspicion, if your Suspicion is 5 or more. | |
Declare all controlled goods
Pay the customs duty on any untaxed Souls or Romantic Literature you're carrying. Surrender any smuggled sunlight. |
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Clink, clink
“Her Enduring Majesty thanks you,” one of the Revenue intones. Did he just hide a smile?
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Game note: This will also reduce your Suspicion, if your Suspicion is 5 or more. |
Talk your way out of the search
Today's duty-officer is a patriot. Perhaps you can claim you're on Admiralty business? |
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“Of course!”
You hint at secret business. The duty-officer snaps a salute and barks an order. You may pass!
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Talk your way out of the search
Today's duty-officer is no respecter of the Admiralty. She will look ill on any attempt to frighten her with military credibility. But she's an amateur antiquarian... |
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An exchange of letters
Of course! You two have corresponded - under assumed names, but it's definitely her. She wouldn't dream of importuning such a learned individual as yourself. On your way!
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Set something aside
They needn't know about every little trinket you have. |
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Failed event | Suspicion only increases if current level is no more than 9.
Special is calculated using the following formula: ( 25 + ( Menaces: Suspicion * 40 ) - Contraband Concealment ) * 1.68, e.g.
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Caught you!
They shake their heads with real sorrow. They confiscate your cargo. They apply a sharp fine.
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Successful event | |||
The free-est of trades
They tramp up and down your freshly mopped stairwells in their nasty boots. They poke and pry and prod. But they find nothing.
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