Somsphet

My wife and I have grown to hate Pierre. Don't know where it started but it's been a while.

So we started the No Pierre challenge.

Rules. You can't buy anything from Pierre. No backpacks, seeds, trees, anything.

You CAN sell your merchandise to Pierre. Forcing him to pay you is funny.

You can't use the shipping box either. Sell everything to the proper merchant yourself. Give the mayor a break.

You can't use JoJo mart either. I feel that should go without saying but I wanted to be clear.

Goal. Ginger island within 3 years.

The ONLY hard part is apples. Only two locations. The fruit cave and the weird travelling merchant lady. We call her Mabel.

Otherwise, have fun. The game actually doesn't get that much harder, it's just a fun way to make Pierre feel bad. He isn't useful to us except for his money. Maybe we'll do a full run without selling anything to Pierre next time

I first pirated ksp over ten years ago. I loved the game so much I bought it and both dlc. Worth every cent.

I've been playing ever since then for the last decade. And you know what?

I've never once been to Mun. Or outside orbit for that matter.

I've spent the last ten years designing fighterjets and advanced AA ground defenses. Why? Because I love this game and I love how I can ignore the base game and just enjoy myself making explosions.

Maybe one day I'll get bored. But it is not this day

How do you describe a dream?

Very badly I'd imagine. So try describing something specific. Like how a dream feels. We all know what a nightmare feels like. But a dream feels different. Like an harbour or a port. A calm serenity as you slowly descend into madness.

In a really good dream, you can see a nightmare long before it arrives, and if you are clever, you can prepare.

This is still about ports and harbours mind you.

Malenar is one such dream. A city in the sky made of wood, cloth, ropes and tar. Or these days, spit, grit, and glitter glue.

I described a world devastated, humanity exiled to the sky.

Now I describe our sanctuary. My dream. Where my heart goes to soar. A City in the Sky. Malenar. It used to be something in old Low German. "Man in Sky" or something. It was one of the first Cityships, one of the oldest left to be certain. We had the resources to loose, and thus, lost everything. Just as we lost everything we became pirates as a whole. The only thing big enough to prey on other Cityships, is other Cityships of course. Ever balloon armored and armed, every bulkhead secure. The outer shackles are more like ablative armor then anything else. But many call the outer shackles Home, myself among them. I have right of inner bunk space, but I choose to stay near the air. Either I get to my suit in time, or I don't. A razor thin wire of certainty. Either live or die. That's the only way to survive after all isn't it?

I'm rambling. How do I describe Malenar? Other then a bunch of pirates and other disorganized crime. Other then a slight dream of serenity. I guess to describe Malenar is to describe home. Maybe your home is different then mine. But mine is where my heart is. A dream in the sky amongst the clouds. Not falling, but soaring. In-between the nightmares and the waking world, a fine line between horizon and ocean. Defined only by your own eyes as real. That is Malenar.

That is why I dream.

Everyone builds airships wrong.

Every airship you have ever seen is upside down.

The keel faces the ground? As if it was still on the ocean?

The masts face the sky? How are you supposed to feel the winds of your sails are even higher then your balloon?

Which of course leads to the balloon. Your life line. Why is it always exposed?

An airship must have its keel to the sky, attached to the balloon. All masts face to the ground,where the trade winds can catch them. This allows your ship to get higher into the sky without shaking itself apart. The keel and the balloon are the most important heavily armored parts of the ship. Without the keel, the airship collapsed in on itself. Without the balloon, the airship just collapses into the ground.

The masts being lower then the keel allows us to maneuver and maintain a healthy altitude, while at the same time allowing clear line of sight to the ground. Allowing us to get closer to the ground without danger of hitting the ground.

Of course hitting the ground is the same as hitting an iceberg in days of old. The difference being a mountain doesnt move. They can be used to navigate, but it's the trade winds that lead us around the world.

All guns always point down . Your target is usually broadside or below you. Lighter ships can gain higher altitude, meaning Cityships cam and will arm weapons for aerial attacks.

A ship that is smaller then it was the week before lost a fight. As a ship gets smaller, it cannibalizes more of itself to remain airborne.

Eventually we won't have anymore resources to plunder Eventually we are all that will remain. Our balloon will collapse sooner or later. All we can do is sail on and hope.

Keep your eyes on the ground. Maybe eventually it would be worth scavenging the surface for resources. But only after an intense artillery bombardment. A heavy trooper presence. And a limited amount of ground time. Grab what you can, getback to the ship, no lollygagging. In and out.

You ready?

What kind of world is so uninhabitable, that humanity had to evacuate? What kind of catastrophe could occur, that wouldn't effect the upper atmosphere?

Could humanity survive in the clouds?

Yes and no.

Humans are natural pirates. The Surface was a lost cause. Everyone knew this. Every fort, bastion, castle and impressive wall collapsed and fell under the weight of the oncoming tide. The Grin. We couldn't stop it. So now it owns the surface.

We couldn't escape to Space, so we are stuck. Purgatory. Limbo. Between a rock and a hard place, or in this case, a dead rock and dead vacuum.

So humans turned to their natural piratey ways. With limited resources, and airships capable of blowing up at the smallest flame, rules were.... Encouraged. If you didn't follow the rules, you were fair game. Which means no one had to follow your rules.

So we raid and plunder Cityships. Then we nest in our own, called Malenar. It used to mean something else in Old German, but no one remembers that anymore.

No one aims for the balloon. If you pop it, all the resources are lost permanently. Surface salvaging is never worth the effort. Never worth the loss of life.

So we aim for the wooden bits, we use weapons that won't burn but will shatter.

But our most important asset are the Riggers. Only the big Mothers can carry biplanes, but a ship our size has something similar. We attached some wire harnesses to a couple brave idiots, then throw them off the side of the ship.

It's so stupid it works. Most of the time. If the wire snaps, you have a very limited time to be saved or splat. Less then a minute in most cases. One guy managed to fall for about 90 minutes but he was impossibly high.

When falling, every one knows the last thing to go through your mind is your feet.