You may call me Yi Sang. I am the first mate of the Pequod.
HP | 69.0 + (2.39*lvl) |
DEF |
Trigger | Dialogue |
---|---|
Identity Acquisition | You may call me Yi Sang. I am the first mate of the Pequod. |
Morning Greeting | I pray that the waves did not keep you up at night. The Lake remains tranquil today... Perhaps we may be availed a brief moment to savor its sights for once. |
Afternoon Greeting | Hm... I grow weary of this diet of desiccated fins. How do you fare? |
Evening Greeting | Do not sail overlong under the night sky. It is common wisdom that such practice invites peril to a journey. Please, do get yourself some rest. |
Chatter #1 | See, this is the part of a Whale that you must assail. If a singular, powerful strike is difficult to execute, apply multiple strikes to a single point. Then you should be able to perform effectively. |
Chatter #2 | Deckhands! Cease your loitering and return to your stations! ... Ah, apologies. That may have been quite loud for you. I apologize. |
Chatter #3 | The life of a sailor is... Quite all right. Once this endeavor is complete, however, I wish to start a café of my own. I have begun dreaming of a leisurely life, free from urgency. |
Post-Uptie Chat 1 | Do not let go of the rope! To release the rope is to release your hold on life! Be wise... yet bold! |
Post-Uptie Chat 2 | Captain Ishmael has not ordered you to your deaths! We must... All of us must kill it and return to where we belong! |
Idle | Hm... All is silent, save for the sound of the vessel hewing across the waters. This is also quite pleasant. |
Uptying | Thus I must step up to the occasion, then...! Very well. Wield the harpoon I shall! |
Deployment | It appears that I must let go of the helm and join the fray. |
Stage Entry | Do not let go of the harpoon. |
Viewed in Battle | Is the Captain in danger? |
Commencing Attack | Please, allow me to demonstrate. |
Enemy Stagger | Hm! They appear to be quite spent. |
Staggered | Haah... |
Enemy Killed | Tsk. There is no oil to be gleaned from this fellow. |
Death | Ha ha ha... Thus does my... voyage... end... |
Check Passed | This was a trivial endeavor. Even a third mate should have little trouble accomplishing this task. |
Check Failed | Ahem... I have very seldom set my foot outside the ship... Do understand. |
Victory Cry | The end of this voyage rises upon the horizon. Let us persevere but for a little longer! |
Extra Conditions Fulfilled | We have done it! Not many pirates or Whales shall dare attack this vessel again. Hm hm, this was quite the satisfactory outcome. |
Defeat Wail | ... Our vessel is far too damaged to continue... Let us anchor and repair. ... Then we shall set sail to the Lake once again. |
The First Mate's Harpoon
On Crit, inflict 2 more Bleed Potency with a Skill (6 times per turn)
The First Mate's Acumen
INDIGO x 4
On Crit, 1 ally with the most <<((Breath))Poise>> inflicts 2 additional Bleed Potency with a Skill (6 times per turn)
Impale
Impale
Impale
Impale
Relentless Stabbing
Relentless Stabbing
Relentless Stabbing
Relentless Stabbing
Ambush
Ambush
See! Is this approach not much more convenient?
Oh, ooh...
The child was pointing at something with a gentle smile on his face.
This plank of wood was once used to tie the sails to a mast, but now its primary function was to suffer as a practice target for the sailors.
The plank was riddled with hundreds of marks from various weapons...
But the deepest marks were the most recent, made by none other than the child himself.
The secret, dear fellows, is alacrity. This isn't to say that you mustn't hurl your weapons with your weight behind it. However...
Wielding his spear, the child adjusted his stance once again.
The spear was long and narrow, yet keenly whetted. It was perfect for both swinging and stabbing motions.
Once the weapon has punctured the flesh of your foe, alter your center of gravity like so. This maneuver shall be followed by...
W-wait. Wait. That move looks way too advanced for us.
Yeah. What kind of explanation is that, boss? That's like if we were in an art class and you asked us to draw a whole owl from two circles.
... Is that so?
The child made a peculiar expression as he rubbed his chin.
He was probably starting to wonder if his instructions weren't getting through to the junior sailors.
He was hoping that, with these training exercises, he could train the sailors to be stronger. So that more of them would survive when facing the inevitable Waves...
... but it was no easy task.
Facing the Waves, challenging the Whales... always resulted in losses.
Lucky sailors met a swift death or were swept away to the sea by the Waves.
Some unlucky, wounded sailors survived the encounters with the Whales. This meant that they had to watch as their own bodies and minds were slowly overwritten by that of the Mermaids.
"... Lower the skiff."
The Captain often ordered the child to lower the skiff.
And the child knew exactly why. On the Pequod, no one was allowed to die. Not without the Captain's explicit orders.
But there had to be some other explanation for their disappearances, and that was what the skiff was for.
The child used to protest the Captain's orders.
"We could have at least tried to save them." "Why did the ship have to sail directly into the Waves? Why now?"
... But now, the child knew.
The first mate still answers directly to the Captain. And the Captain could not be defied.
That's why the child let the sailors play their silly pranks on him.
That's why the child spent so much time trying to teach the junior sailors how to fight with these training sessions.
But watching them disappear one by one from the ship made the child realize something. That in the end, nothing he did mattered.
"... Once this voyage is over."
He had naught but a single wish left.
And the most he could do to speed the voyage on even a little bit... was to obey the Captain of the Pequod without question.
To obey Captain Ishmael.