The Delight: Difference between revisions
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{{Spoiler}}{{Character|title1=The Delight|location=[[The Unterzee]]|allegiance=[[The Presbyterate]]|notable_members=The Second Sacristan|alias=|image1=Shipbig.png|caption1=All aboard...}}<blockquote>''"When the Prester sat down to His table – so the story goes – He bade His cup-bearer to wait always at His right hand. But the table was too long. He needed a second cup-bearer to bring wine from the other end. Larger, stronger than the first, in order to carry the wine."<ref name=":0">{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Look_closer_at_the_Delight|Look closer at the Delight|Fallen London|}}</ref>''</blockquote>'''The Delight''' is a [[Presbyterate]] | {{Spoiler}}{{Character|title1=The Delight|location=[[The Unterzee]]|allegiance=[[The Presbyterate]]|notable_members=The Second Sacristan|alias=|image1=Shipbig.png|caption1=All aboard...}}<blockquote>''"When the Prester sat down to His table – so the story goes – He bade His cup-bearer to wait always at His right hand. But the table was too long. He needed a second cup-bearer to bring wine from the other end. Larger, stronger than the first, in order to carry the wine."<ref name=":0">{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Look_closer_at_the_Delight|Look closer at the Delight|Fallen London|}}</ref>''</blockquote>'''The Delight''' is a [[Presbyterate]] flagship. | ||
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== What You See... == | == What You See... == | ||
<blockquote>''"Everything fits here exactly where it's meant to fit. Interlocked. Meticulous. Shipshape, in the zailor's parlance. Ropes lashed neatly. Sails trimmed. Masked zailors, much like yourself, moving in concert to serve the Prester's Hand. You click into place, one more cog in the well-oiled crew. You're exactly where you should be, too."''<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Aboard_the_Delight|Aboard the Delight|Fallen London|}}</ref></blockquote>The Delight is a black brig with black sails.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Study_the_smouldering_fleet|Study the smouldering fleet|Fallen London|}} ''"But one vessel floats beyond the flames. It is a black brig with black sails."''</ref> Her sails catch the slightest breeze effortlessly as she journeys across the [[Unterzee]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Look_aloft|Look aloft|Fallen London|}} ''"Enormous sails catch the zee-breeze. Even the slightest puff, embraced, compels their sheets to surge outward like someone's chest swelling with pride. You watch them rise and fall and rise again."''</ref> | <blockquote>''"Everything fits here exactly where it's meant to fit. Interlocked. Meticulous. Shipshape, in the zailor's parlance. Ropes lashed neatly. Sails trimmed. Masked zailors, much like yourself, moving in concert to serve the Prester's Hand. You click into place, one more cog in the well-oiled crew. You're exactly where you should be, too."''<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Aboard_the_Delight|Aboard the Delight|Fallen London|}}</ref></blockquote>The Delight is a black brig with black sails.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Study_the_smouldering_fleet|Study the smouldering fleet|Fallen London|}} ''"But one vessel floats beyond the flames. It is a black brig with black sails."''</ref> Her sails catch the slightest breeze effortlessly as she journeys across the [[Unterzee]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Look_aloft|Look aloft|Fallen London|}} ''"Enormous sails catch the zee-breeze. Even the slightest puff, embraced, compels their sheets to surge outward like someone's chest swelling with pride. You watch them rise and fall and rise again."''</ref> | ||
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Everything is exactly as it's supposed to be. You are exactly where you should be.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Aboard_the_Delight|Aboard the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''"Everything fits here exactly where it's meant to fit. Interlocked. Meticulous. Shipshape, in the zailor's parlance. Ropes lashed neatly. Sails trimmed. Masked zailors, much like yourself, moving in concert to serve the Prester's Hand. You click into place, one more cog in the well-oiled crew. You're exactly where you should be, too."''</ref> You are among friends.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Chat_with_the_other_Masked_Corsairs|Chat with the other Masked Corsairs|Fallen London|}} ''"Cousins. Siblings. Family. Friends. These are your brethren. Your kin. You already belong. There isn't one person, above or below, dawn-burnt or shadow-bound, whose expression wouldn't shine when faced with this glowing camaraderie. How easy it is to speak with them! How freely the words flow! They understand all your moods and manners."''</ref> From here, you can see the [[Mountain of Light]],<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Put_the_Shattered_Mask_back_on|Put the Shattered Mask back on|Fallen London|}} ''"You look through the mask. You see the Mountain. Its pinnacle is a diamond in the distance [...] Every facet in the diamond gleams with a different colour, and those colours spill down the Mountain's face [...]"''</ref> and all the beauties of the [[Elder Continent]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Put_the_Shattered_Mask_back_on|Put the Shattered Mask back on|Fallen London|}} ''"Every grain of sand another jewel. And lush lawns, plashing waterfalls, succulent fruit, clear fountains, flowers, silver pagodas, palaces, temples, all rise shimmering from the painted oases. Nidah. And then more and more sand for miles and miles, and jungles, and forests, and rivers, and swamps that stretch across a continent for leagues, even for lifetimes. And then the zee, wave after wave, crests glittering in the Mountain's light, which has still travelled all this distance – just to pour itself into your eyes. Just for you on the good ship Delight."''</ref> | Everything is exactly as it's supposed to be. You are exactly where you should be.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Aboard_the_Delight|Aboard the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''"Everything fits here exactly where it's meant to fit. Interlocked. Meticulous. Shipshape, in the zailor's parlance. Ropes lashed neatly. Sails trimmed. Masked zailors, much like yourself, moving in concert to serve the Prester's Hand. You click into place, one more cog in the well-oiled crew. You're exactly where you should be, too."''</ref> You are among friends.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Chat_with_the_other_Masked_Corsairs|Chat with the other Masked Corsairs|Fallen London|}} ''"Cousins. Siblings. Family. Friends. These are your brethren. Your kin. You already belong. There isn't one person, above or below, dawn-burnt or shadow-bound, whose expression wouldn't shine when faced with this glowing camaraderie. How easy it is to speak with them! How freely the words flow! They understand all your moods and manners."''</ref> From here, you can see the [[Mountain of Light]],<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Put_the_Shattered_Mask_back_on|Put the Shattered Mask back on|Fallen London|}} ''"You look through the mask. You see the Mountain. Its pinnacle is a diamond in the distance [...] Every facet in the diamond gleams with a different colour, and those colours spill down the Mountain's face [...]"''</ref> and all the beauties of the [[Elder Continent]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Put_the_Shattered_Mask_back_on|Put the Shattered Mask back on|Fallen London|}} ''"Every grain of sand another jewel. And lush lawns, plashing waterfalls, succulent fruit, clear fountains, flowers, silver pagodas, palaces, temples, all rise shimmering from the painted oases. Nidah. And then more and more sand for miles and miles, and jungles, and forests, and rivers, and swamps that stretch across a continent for leagues, even for lifetimes. And then the zee, wave after wave, crests glittering in the Mountain's light, which has still travelled all this distance – just to pour itself into your eyes. Just for you on the good ship Delight."''</ref> | ||
''Something is wrong here.'' | ''Something is wrong here. Reload the page to take off your Shattered Mask.'' | ||
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== ...Is Not What You Get == | == ...Is Not What You Get == | ||
<blockquote>''"Cup-bearer is a rough translation. Verger. Valet. Butler. Sacristan. Call it whatever you like, but you don't want to be brought back from the market."<ref name=":0" />''</blockquote>Take off the mask. The Delight is a ship of horrors - hewn from the living, dripping timber of the [[Bleeding Forest]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Aboard_the_Delight|Aboard the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''"Something like sap oozes from the vessel's wooden planks. Sticky, wet, dripping from each timbre and beam, puddling on the decks, leaking into the surrounding zee. Hewn from the Bleeding Forest, the lumber still bleeds. Masked zailors leave footprints in the muck. It clings to their boots, stretching and syrupy. You cannot touch the rails, the cabin walls, even the ropes, without staining your hands crimson."''</ref> No wonder she leaves blood in her wake.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Study_the_smouldering_fleet|Study the smouldering fleet|Fallen London|}} ''"Now you see the blood being pumped in fresh gouts from the brig, as another ship might pump out bilge-water, spreading the crimson tide in its wake."''</ref> Perhaps the sails are alive, too.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Look_aloft|Look aloft|Fallen London|}} ''"No breeze is required to blow the Delight on its course. Its sails routinely fill themselves, expanding and deflating, like massive lungs gasping to breathe. Indeed, their great folds glisten, heave, and flex. Titanic sheets scraped raw and fitted, stretched, pinned to the masts, as a skinned animal's hide would be stretched on a drum."''</ref> | <blockquote>''"Cup-bearer is a rough translation. Verger. Valet. Butler. Sacristan. Call it whatever you like, but you don't want to be brought back from the market."<ref name=":0" />''</blockquote>Take off the mask. The Delight is a ship of horrors - hewn from the living, dripping timber of the [[Bleeding Forest]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Aboard_the_Delight|Aboard the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''"Something like sap oozes from the vessel's wooden planks. Sticky, wet, dripping from each timbre and beam, puddling on the decks, leaking into the surrounding zee. Hewn from the Bleeding Forest, the lumber still bleeds. Masked zailors leave footprints in the muck. It clings to their boots, stretching and syrupy. You cannot touch the rails, the cabin walls, even the ropes, without staining your hands crimson."''</ref> No wonder she leaves blood in her wake.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Study_the_smouldering_fleet|Study the smouldering fleet|Fallen London|}} ''"Now you see the blood being pumped in fresh gouts from the brig, as another ship might pump out bilge-water, spreading the crimson tide in its wake."''</ref> Perhaps the sails are alive, too.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Look_aloft|Look aloft|Fallen London|}} ''"No breeze is required to blow the Delight on its course. Its sails routinely fill themselves, expanding and deflating, like massive lungs gasping to breathe. Indeed, their great folds glisten, heave, and flex. Titanic sheets scraped raw and fitted, stretched, pinned to the masts, as a skinned animal's hide would be stretched on a drum."''</ref> | ||
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The birds and the bats are trapped in the hold with the dead. They are surrounded by piles of their own excrement,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Descend_to_a_lower_deck|Descend to a lower deck|Fallen London|}} ''"You smell the hold before you enter it. An eye-blistering stench – worse than a barnyard, more potent than a cesspool – is concentrated down here in the dark. Ammonia. Guano. Nightsoil. Not to mention the sweltering heat, and the squawks and the shrieks, from the countless birds collected by the Prester's Hand."''</ref> caged and collared and crammed into bags on shelves.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Retrieve_your_Almost-Tame_Blue_Prophet|Retrieve your Almost-Tame Blue Prophet|Fallen London|}} ''"Shelves extend throughout the hold, bending beneath the weight of innumerable bundles. There are little labels – Dermanura, Nycteris, Palaeonycteris, Vespertilio – to indicate which specimens are on which shelves. So many bags; so much squirming. [...] When you unhood the Blue Prophet, there is wild rage in its voice: Death to the Delight! And the other captives, in cages, in collars, in the squirming bags that start to squirm more violently, echo the sentiment with their own ear-piercing shrieks."''</ref> The Delight hunts them when not pursuing a target,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Ask_about_tracking_down_the_Delight|Ask about tracking down the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''"I still think about the birds. We were hunting them too. More items on the Prester's shopping list."''</ref> and now they cry for help.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Ascend_to_a_higher_deck|Ascend to a higher deck|Fallen London|}} ''"Creatures cry out behind you. None speak in a human tongue, and yet you understand. Their panic. Their desperation. Their cries diminish as you climb, but they are never entirely gone. Under the lapping waves, the shouting crew, the creaking timbres and ropes, there is a constant murmur that means: Help."''</ref> It is a law of the Elder Continent that "thou shalt harm no thing that flies," but an exception is made for the Prester's servants.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Discuss_their_contract_with_the_Mithridate_Office|Discuss their contract with the Mithridate Office|Fallen London|}} ''"Tanah-Chook. Venderbight. Apis Meet. Cline. All ports they touched in their pursuit. Not just for the Youthful Naturalist, but for other targets. "Thou shalt harm no thing that flies, for they carry the airs of the Garden," recites an Eye-patched Soprano. "Only to my servants is it given to hunt them – and you'd better believe we hunted them.""''</ref> While all the birds are destined to adorn the banquet tables of Nidah in the end,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Examine_the_birds|Examine the birds|Fallen London|}} ''"Eagles enchained. Peacocks leashed. Blackbirds captured to bake into a pie. Bats to roast, goshawks and geese to baste, swans to marinate in nightingale gravy, with butterflies and frost-moths breaded, fried, and sprinkled for a crisp garnish. Perhaps the creatures know their destinies. Perhaps that's why they flap their wings and thrash against the bars. Bloody feathers. Screeches. Claws scratching for liberty beyond their reach."''</ref> it seems the Prester is searching for [[Blue Prophets]] in particular.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Devise_a_plan_to_board_the_Delight|Devise a plan to board the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''""When we weren't chasin' that scholarly chap, the Commander had us huntin' birds," says the Cutthroat Tenor. "Never did capture a Blue Prophet. Now yours would make a fine tribute.""''</ref> One can only guess at the reasons, but perhaps He seeks an army of Prophets to foresee the deaths of His enemies... | The birds and the bats are trapped in the hold with the dead. They are surrounded by piles of their own excrement,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Descend_to_a_lower_deck|Descend to a lower deck|Fallen London|}} ''"You smell the hold before you enter it. An eye-blistering stench – worse than a barnyard, more potent than a cesspool – is concentrated down here in the dark. Ammonia. Guano. Nightsoil. Not to mention the sweltering heat, and the squawks and the shrieks, from the countless birds collected by the Prester's Hand."''</ref> caged and collared and crammed into bags on shelves.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Retrieve_your_Almost-Tame_Blue_Prophet|Retrieve your Almost-Tame Blue Prophet|Fallen London|}} ''"Shelves extend throughout the hold, bending beneath the weight of innumerable bundles. There are little labels – Dermanura, Nycteris, Palaeonycteris, Vespertilio – to indicate which specimens are on which shelves. So many bags; so much squirming. [...] When you unhood the Blue Prophet, there is wild rage in its voice: Death to the Delight! And the other captives, in cages, in collars, in the squirming bags that start to squirm more violently, echo the sentiment with their own ear-piercing shrieks."''</ref> The Delight hunts them when not pursuing a target,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Ask_about_tracking_down_the_Delight|Ask about tracking down the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''"I still think about the birds. We were hunting them too. More items on the Prester's shopping list."''</ref> and now they cry for help.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Ascend_to_a_higher_deck|Ascend to a higher deck|Fallen London|}} ''"Creatures cry out behind you. None speak in a human tongue, and yet you understand. Their panic. Their desperation. Their cries diminish as you climb, but they are never entirely gone. Under the lapping waves, the shouting crew, the creaking timbres and ropes, there is a constant murmur that means: Help."''</ref> It is a law of the Elder Continent that "thou shalt harm no thing that flies," but an exception is made for the Prester's servants.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Discuss_their_contract_with_the_Mithridate_Office|Discuss their contract with the Mithridate Office|Fallen London|}} ''"Tanah-Chook. Venderbight. Apis Meet. Cline. All ports they touched in their pursuit. Not just for the Youthful Naturalist, but for other targets. "Thou shalt harm no thing that flies, for they carry the airs of the Garden," recites an Eye-patched Soprano. "Only to my servants is it given to hunt them – and you'd better believe we hunted them.""''</ref> While all the birds are destined to adorn the banquet tables of Nidah in the end,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Examine_the_birds|Examine the birds|Fallen London|}} ''"Eagles enchained. Peacocks leashed. Blackbirds captured to bake into a pie. Bats to roast, goshawks and geese to baste, swans to marinate in nightingale gravy, with butterflies and frost-moths breaded, fried, and sprinkled for a crisp garnish. Perhaps the creatures know their destinies. Perhaps that's why they flap their wings and thrash against the bars. Bloody feathers. Screeches. Claws scratching for liberty beyond their reach."''</ref> it seems the Prester is searching for [[Blue Prophets]] in particular.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Devise_a_plan_to_board_the_Delight|Devise a plan to board the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''""When we weren't chasin' that scholarly chap, the Commander had us huntin' birds," says the Cutthroat Tenor. "Never did capture a Blue Prophet. Now yours would make a fine tribute.""''</ref> One can only guess at the reasons, but perhaps He seeks an army of Prophets to foresee the deaths of His enemies... | ||
== Scientific and Cultural Inspirations == | ''Reload the page to put your Shattered Mask back on.'' | ||
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==Scientific and Cultural Inspirations== | |||
The species of poppy quoted as being the source of Saviour's Sap, ''Papaver longinus,'' is fictional. One species of poppy produces opium - an infamously addictive sedative and pain reliever that also induces vivid dreams and euphoria, thanks to a cocktail of alkaloids found within. Some other species of poppy also contain alkaloids used for medicinal purposes, but in lower quantities. | The species of poppy quoted as being the source of Saviour's Sap, ''Papaver longinus,'' is fictional. One species of poppy produces opium - an infamously addictive sedative and pain reliever that also induces vivid dreams and euphoria, thanks to a cocktail of alkaloids found within. Some other species of poppy also contain alkaloids used for medicinal purposes, but in lower quantities. | ||
In Christian apocrypha, [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longinus Longinus] was the name of the Roman centurion who wounded Jesus on the cross with his lance. While earlier legends held that he was condemned for eternity for this deed, some later traditions decided that he was also the centurion who stated that Jesus was the son of God; in this story, he was thus one of the first converts to Christianity. He is venerated as a martyr and saint by Roman Catholics, Anglicans (by extension since their church splintered from Catholicism, and Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Christians. | In Christian apocrypha, [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longinus Longinus] was the name of the Roman centurion who wounded Jesus on the cross with his lance. While earlier legends held that he was condemned for eternity for this deed, some later traditions decided that he was also the centurion who stated that Jesus was the son of God; in this story, he was thus one of the first converts to Christianity. He is venerated as a martyr and saint by Roman Catholics, Anglicans (by extension since their church splintered from Catholicism, and Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Christians. | ||
== References == | ==References== | ||
{{Scroll box|text=<references/>}} | {{Scroll box|text=<references/>}} | ||
[[Category:The Elder Continent]] | [[Category:The Elder Continent]] | ||
[[Category:The Unterzee]] | [[Category:The Unterzee]] |
Revision as of 22:55, 26 September 2024
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Beyond this point lie spoilers for Fallen London, Sunless Sea, Sunless Skies, or Mask of the Rose. This may include midgame or minor Fate-locked content. Proceed with caution. You can find out more about our spoiler policy here. |
"When the Prester sat down to His table – so the story goes – He bade His cup-bearer to wait always at His right hand. But the table was too long. He needed a second cup-bearer to bring wine from the other end. Larger, stronger than the first, in order to carry the wine."[1]
The Delight is a Presbyterate flagship.
<choose uncached=""> <option>
What You See...
"Everything fits here exactly where it's meant to fit. Interlocked. Meticulous. Shipshape, in the zailor's parlance. Ropes lashed neatly. Sails trimmed. Masked zailors, much like yourself, moving in concert to serve the Prester's Hand. You click into place, one more cog in the well-oiled crew. You're exactly where you should be, too."[2]
The Delight is a black brig with black sails.[3] Her sails catch the slightest breeze effortlessly as she journeys across the Unterzee.[4]
The Presbyterate commissioned the Delight and ordained its Commander to be direct enforcers of the Prester's will.[5] She is armed with the most dangerous weapons of the immortal empire: she can summon the Wax-Wind against the Prester's enemies,[6][7] and in the unlikely event that this fails, she can also summon swirling, singing flocks of bats and birds to capture a target alive[8] - should the Prester want them alive, anyway. She carries a store of Traitor Tongues as well:[9] the voices, in a manner of speaking, of the people of Cline. They are truth itself, you see.[10]
The ship is suffused with incense made from a substance called Saviour's Sap, which apparently comes from a species of poppy;[11] this thickly smoky incense,[12] which smells of roses,[13] is known to induce visions and inspire devotion.[11] The incense is also used as a weapon against the Delight's enemies in battle.[14]
The Commander of the Delight is the Second Sacristan.[15] This agent of Nidah,[16] also called the Prester's Hand,[17] is unusually tall and gangly, with clawed[18] and many-jointed limbs.[19] Curiously, all the zailors aboard the Delight are masked, with lacquer, stone, or... wax, perhaps?[20] When they gather in the Sacristan's cabin, they kneel before their captain's radiance, under the light of hundreds of candles.[21] The Sacristan is haloed, wreathed in sunbeams - something divine.[22]
The zailors worship and labor together as they travel on, making candles for the captain and the Prester.[23] Below decks, they rest, eat, drink, and be merry. The air is filled with music.[24] The food is delicious, the alcohol plentiful, the cutlery immaculate.[25] Even the Prester's prisoners - there is a special place for them, here[26] - sit in prayer and reverence.[27]
The hold of the Delight contains a magnificent menagerie of animals - birds, bats, insects - captured from all across the zee and held in cages of silver and gold.[28][29] Soon the birds will sing for the Prester in Nidah.[30] But for now, they all sing for you. Even the zee itself sings for you. Every sound around you is music.[31]
There are prisoners in the hold, too; of course they must be caged, as the penitent pilgrims they are,[32] but the Prester will accept their atonement and grant them salvation.[33]
Everything is exactly as it's supposed to be. You are exactly where you should be.[34] You are among friends.[35] From here, you can see the Mountain of Light,[36] and all the beauties of the Elder Continent.[37]
Something is wrong here. Reload the page to take off your Shattered Mask. </option> <option>
...Is Not What You Get
"Cup-bearer is a rough translation. Verger. Valet. Butler. Sacristan. Call it whatever you like, but you don't want to be brought back from the market."[1]
Take off the mask. The Delight is a ship of horrors - hewn from the living, dripping timber of the Bleeding Forest.[38] No wonder she leaves blood in her wake.[39] Perhaps the sails are alive, too.[40]
The air smells of roses - and carnage.[41] And the bats and birds are not singing. They are shrieking and squawking and ripping and tearing.[42]
The masks control the minds of the zailors aboard,[43] at least some of whom were taken from London as mercenary-slaves to the Prester.[44][45] The masks are lacquer, stone - or flesh over flesh.[46] Tearing off and breaking a mask is the only way to free the person wearing it.[43]
The crew are kept in cramped quarters, packed like sardines;[47] they are fed stale biscuits and... oh God, viscera?[48] The wax of the candles they make is rendered from the remains of those claimed by the Wax-Wind.[49] The heavily shackled prisoners aboard might even be the lucky ones here.[50] At least until they die and are brought to the hold, their corpses hanging in cages.[51] Or until their Traitor Tongues are ripped from their bodies.[52]
The Second Sacristan keeps candles in their cabin. Some of the candles were once human.[53] They call the Sacristan the Prester's Hand; how many hands does it have?[54][55] And what on earth is it hiding beneath its captain's hat and cravat?[56][57] (Correspondence. It's hiding Correspondence.)[58]
The birds and the bats are trapped in the hold with the dead. They are surrounded by piles of their own excrement,[59] caged and collared and crammed into bags on shelves.[60] The Delight hunts them when not pursuing a target,[61] and now they cry for help.[62] It is a law of the Elder Continent that "thou shalt harm no thing that flies," but an exception is made for the Prester's servants.[63] While all the birds are destined to adorn the banquet tables of Nidah in the end,[64] it seems the Prester is searching for Blue Prophets in particular.[65] One can only guess at the reasons, but perhaps He seeks an army of Prophets to foresee the deaths of His enemies...
Reload the page to put your Shattered Mask back on. </option> </choose>
Scientific and Cultural Inspirations
The species of poppy quoted as being the source of Saviour's Sap, Papaver longinus, is fictional. One species of poppy produces opium - an infamously addictive sedative and pain reliever that also induces vivid dreams and euphoria, thanks to a cocktail of alkaloids found within. Some other species of poppy also contain alkaloids used for medicinal purposes, but in lower quantities.
In Christian apocrypha, Longinus was the name of the Roman centurion who wounded Jesus on the cross with his lance. While earlier legends held that he was condemned for eternity for this deed, some later traditions decided that he was also the centurion who stated that Jesus was the son of God; in this story, he was thus one of the first converts to Christianity. He is venerated as a martyr and saint by Roman Catholics, Anglicans (by extension since their church splintered from Catholicism, and Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Christians.
References
|