A.Journal

Checks

421 checks

Easy

Place it on the luggage rack on the lower floor. Point up. Cross fingers.

Easy

Sub-level 4. You didn't go that far down.

Challenging

Your throat the dark silo of your own forgotten body.

Medium

Your eye gravitates toward the framed credentials on the wall, the dusty anatomical torso, all of it.

Medium

He looks around the houseboat. It feels incomprehensible to him now. How he came to be on it.

Easy

The Sunset is an upper, upper-class district north of Quisach.

Medium

The Quisach backways are known more for fly-tipping and feral boars than for 'families'.

Challenging

A whole room of this tiny houseboat is dedicated to a person who never visits.

Medium

Because this place feels hollow enough as is.

Medium

Far off Portofiro's beaten tourist path.

Medium

The girl glances at the window, searching the narrow portrait of the city beyond.

Medium

The aimless, over-scarfed teen hanging around the plaza.

Medium

Challenging

A geometrically precise matrix of cocaine.

Medium

Challenging

Not just to your apartment. He's asking if he can live your life with you.

Medium

He freezes, even his thigh hair seems to stand still in horror.

Medium

Buildings like this do not conform to 'lists'. Their rules are ancient, etched on the underside of the keystone, transferred by psychic dispatch to anyone who stays within them long enough.

Easy

Try the mailbox. People's entire lives pass through them.

Medium

No one will find your body down here. The water will cover you up.

Easy

A map of resentments, a territory of pain.

Trivial

'Bootleg Bazaar': No co-ordinates found. Some kind of marketplace, but not one you've ever been to.

Easy

Grand Lich confirmed and triangulated.

Easy

Reno, of Renotel -- the network of dolphin payphones. Invisible courier of the city.

Easy

Nothing down there but disused buildings and kicked-in doors.

Medium

Direct line of sight to the Campaign from here. You can see all of Party Alley from its top floor.

Easy

Renotel -- the dolphin payphones. Invisible courier of the city.

Medium

A near-fatal casualty of Party Alley. White collar, judging by his attire.

Easy

There's another way: The old fire exit.

Easy

You might have better odds if you go by the south and come up through the rusty gate.

Easy

Your mental map of the area is woefully incomplete. You'll be working at a disadvantage here.

Medium

That's the problem here. Everyone demands results, but no one's willing to stomach the cost.

Challenging

In his head, the city's alleyways and vacant lots are assembled like a criminal line-up. In each of them, a cadaver, grimly laid out.

Easy

This calls for deep urban forensics.

Legendary

Perform urban forensics on the rubbish.

Formidable

Where did the package go?

Medium

His steps trace no further back than the first floor of Foto 24.

Challenging

A hush falls over the city. Two million bystanders, eavesdropping.

Medium

There's nothing down there either.

Medium

Stranded on the island of you.

Medium

Medium

Her body conforms to the shape of the recliner, the recliner to the shape of her body.

Easy

Hidden in the shade of Saint Erentudris' Basilica, three streets away and five years early to your appointment with a bullet.

Medium

Novessa sputters beneath an implacable leaden sky. Smoke billows from Obrekh furnaces. Stone gryphons leer down on Kalandar Square. Rail lines thread through blocks of dark slate and vermillion-streaked towers. The streets teem with people -- an endless, thrumming patchwork of crimson, charcoal, and indigo.

Easy

Marks to be revered from seating many people over the years.

Challenging

For fuck's sake. Leave these people to their madnesses.

Challenging

Medium

That's twice you've been saved by a trash animal. Kin?

Medium

Get them out of here. You're all going to be crushed.

Godly

Show them that the building is dangerous.