Smoke and Mirrors
Three decades ago.
Had it been that long?
The year is 1889, thirty long years since 1859. The date where the prosperous Great Britain would suffer a blow like no other. One that would wrench his precious heart from his chest with such speed and surprise that he'd not been even able to react accordingly. London, his precious capital, had been taken by a strangest thing.
A cloud of bats? Hehe...heh.. I wouldn't have believed it..
Taken as the Fifth City, the next host for the infamous Echo Bazaar. Said to be a mile under the surface, the setting of the most unusual of people, the most colorful of creatures. Oh yes, even the proximity of this place to Hell is part of it's charm. Not a spec of sunlight or moonlight, I'm afraid. The light's up there? Said to come from gems or crystallized fungus. In the city proper, lamps are all the rage.
And mushroom wine! Can you believe it? The dead usually don't stay like that down here... Best watch your step in the Neath.
The Masters of the Bazaar go by many names, but they are seen as figures of influence. Many factions here look after their own interests, and it's best to be on good terms with everyone. One never knows if a few favors could mean the life or death of someone, after all.
Traitor Empress! Hahaha~ The moonish light is beautiful tonight...
Welcome to Fallen London, where souls can be traded (under a license of course, Hell doesn't approve otherwise) and death means nothing.
You really ought to try Prisoner's Honey. Just avoid the Red kind....
And unfortunately, one Arthur Kirkland isn't very much sane for it, either. Rather comes from getting one's heart forcibly taken to host some bizarre underworld where church dogma and common sense usually amounts for nothing.
Had it been that long?
The year is 1889, thirty long years since 1859. The date where the prosperous Great Britain would suffer a blow like no other. One that would wrench his precious heart from his chest with such speed and surprise that he'd not been even able to react accordingly. London, his precious capital, had been taken by a strangest thing.
A cloud of bats? Hehe...heh.. I wouldn't have believed it..
Taken as the Fifth City, the next host for the infamous Echo Bazaar. Said to be a mile under the surface, the setting of the most unusual of people, the most colorful of creatures. Oh yes, even the proximity of this place to Hell is part of it's charm. Not a spec of sunlight or moonlight, I'm afraid. The light's up there? Said to come from gems or crystallized fungus. In the city proper, lamps are all the rage.
And mushroom wine! Can you believe it? The dead usually don't stay like that down here... Best watch your step in the Neath.
The Masters of the Bazaar go by many names, but they are seen as figures of influence. Many factions here look after their own interests, and it's best to be on good terms with everyone. One never knows if a few favors could mean the life or death of someone, after all.
Traitor Empress! Hahaha~ The moonish light is beautiful tonight...
Welcome to Fallen London, where souls can be traded (under a license of course, Hell doesn't approve otherwise) and death means nothing.
You really ought to try Prisoner's Honey. Just avoid the Red kind....
And unfortunately, one Arthur Kirkland isn't very much sane for it, either. Rather comes from getting one's heart forcibly taken to host some bizarre underworld where church dogma and common sense usually amounts for nothing.