No ‘Regerts’ with Deep Regrets

I set out to sea for a six-day expedition, wary and excited in equal measure. I’d heard the tales from grizzled old Hugo, a stereotypical angler, that fishing in the deep sea made for better opportunities - bigger catches and better pay at port - but came with the risk of ocean madness. Like most, I laughed them off, until the day he returned to port fully insensate, insisting his name was Hogu and refusing to remove his diving bell, one slitted eye peering out at us.

Monday - Lost my favorite sock

Fishing is a game of chance, so I rolled the dice and cast my line into the first shoal of the shallowest depth, revealing a … pram?!? All at sea were forced to confront a regret. I decided not to attempt to catch the baby carriage, as the thing was middling and foul and worthless at port, except for bringing me more regrets. I cast two more times while at sea on Monday, both times allowing myself and my shipmates to cast away our regrets (my companions found me very droll), and caught a striped marlin and a sunfish.

Tuesday - Cursed at a nun

I set my bearings for port with my wits fully and proudly intact. The harbormaster offered me the opportunity to refresh my can of worms, which I hadn’t yet used, along with my dice. I could also unburden myself of the shackles of one regret - thankfully, I had none. 

My full sanity meant my two previous catches, both large and fair, were worth more at market. I decided to mount the striped marlin as my prize catch, making it worth a whopping 21 if I could maintain my sanity throughout the week. I sold the sunfish for $6 in fishbucks and spent it to purchase a rod and reel that would make fish easier to catch.

Wednesday - Took a redhead to sea

All on the adventure, whether at port or at sea, were invited to refresh their worms. I should soon take advantage of these worms.
I’d had such luck my first two days of the adventure that, when I returned to sea, I decided to take my chances in a deeper shoal. I dropped a sinker to move down one depth and used my can of worms to take a peek at the top fish of the shoal before casting my line, revealing the dunkleosteus. This was a large creature, and foul - catching it would require me to discard the top fish of all shoals at sea, but it was worth a lot as well. I decided to catch it, though doing so did require me to carry the burden of an additional regret. Continued fishing on Wednesday netted me a middling and foul bubo. My regrets continued to accumulate.

Thursday - Got a bad tattoo

Myself and my companions were all paid $3 each in fishbucks as a bonus for the day. Instead of heading to port, I decided to stay at sea, but I was required to move up one depth. I dropped two sinkers to fish as deeply as I could; my ambitions outpaced my abilities. 

Oh what alarm and terror when I immediately revealed the large and foul kraken and took on three more regrets, while my companions each acquired another! I bested the beast by eating the bubo I caught Wednesday and refreshing a die, but it added another regret to my expedition. I could hardly stomach beholding the behemoth that nearly toppled my craft.

Friday - Shattered the last bottle of rum

Once again, each intrepid explorer was given leave to refresh her can of worms. 

With the mighty kraken and dunkleosteus in hand, I returned to port, cursing myself for mounting the striped marlin as my prize catch. The kraken would have to be mounted as a trophy. I sold the dunkleosteus for $6 in fishbucks, finding that I was slowly going mad, and my foul catches were worth more now than when I was fully in control of my wits. Should I give in tomorrow, my last day at sea, and give in to the careless freedom of pure insanity? I pondered the possibility as I purchased more dice, items and supplies to improve my chances.

Saturday - Summoned an ancient evil

On the final day of the expedition, the bonus was increasing the increment on one die by one. I used the Halley’s Diving Bell I’d purchased at port to move my boat down one depth. Then I dropped a sinker to move to the deepest point yet again. The large shadow on the middle shoal told me a large beast lurked beneath. Would it bring me success, or only deep regrets?

I decided to find out and cast my line, revealing a horrifying devil called a hollow earth infant. Simply revealing it caused me three more regrets, while catching it required me to discard the top three fish of every shoal. But it was worth much, so I gave into its evil glare and pulled the thing aboard. 

My next catch was small and foul, a varicolla. More regrets piled onto my soul, and I refreshed a die. Lastly, I hooked a pustor, which is as off-putting as it sounds, and flipped a curious fish coin, raising my regrets - and my ocean madness - to an alarming level.

All desires for fishing sated, the journey ended with an accounting of regrets and fish. A companion was forced, with much dismay, to discard their most valuable mounted fish due to the amount of regret they had accumulated. 

My madness level made the number of foul fish I’d collected quite valuable, though not enough to make me the most successful of the seafarers. 

Though I regretted many things - losing a leg to piranhas, sitting in oil in my nice trousers - I don’t regret my time on the voyage of Deep Regrets.