The Delight: Difference between revisions

Revision as of 23:25, 26 September 2024

"There are some things we were not meant to know, they say. But you wouldn't be down here if you took that seriously."

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.

What You See...

"Everything fits here exactly where it's meant to fit. ... 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."^[38]

Take off the mask, and see this ship of horrors for what it is. The Delight is a black brig with black sails, hewn from the living, dripping timber of the Bleeding Forest.^[39] No wonder she leaves blood in her wake.^[40] Perhaps the sails are alive, too.^[41]

The Presbyterate commissioned the Delight and ordained its Commander to be direct enforcers of the Prester's will.^[42] She is armed with the most dangerous weapons of the immortal empire: she can summon the Wax-Wind against the Prester's enemies,^[43]^[44] and in the unlikely event that this fails, she can also summon flocks of bats and birds to capture a target alive - though perhaps those trying to protect her target will not be so lucky. For the bats and birds are not singing; they are shrieking and squawking and ripping and tearing.^[45] The Delight carries a store of Traitor Tongues as well;^[46] these parasites devour and replace their host's tongue, forcing them to give away all their secrets.^[47] If left unchecked, a Traitor Tongue will burrow into the host's body^[48] and begin to grow their regrets into a shell.^[49] This is what the Presbyterate does to its captives to make them talk.^[50]

The ship is suffused with thick and smoky incense made from a substance called Saviour's Sap, which apparently comes from a species of poppy, and is known to induce visions and inspire devotion.^[11] The air smells of roses - and carnage.^[51]

The Commander of the Delight is the Second Sacristan.^[52] This agent of Nidah,^[53] also called the Prester's Hand,^[54] is unusually tall and gangly, with clawed^[55] and many-jointed limbs.^[56] Curiously, all the zailors aboard the Delight are masked; the masks control the minds of the zailors aboard,^[57] at least some of whom were taken from London as mercenary-slaves to the Prester.^[58]^[59] The masks are lacquer, stone - or flesh over flesh.^[60] Tearing off and breaking a mask is the only way to free the person wearing it.^[57]

The crew are kept in cramped quarters, packed like sardines;^[61] they are fed stale biscuits and... oh God, viscera?^[62] The wax of the candles they make to pass the time is rendered from the remains of those claimed by the Wax-Wind.^[63] The heavily shackled prisoners aboard might even be the lucky ones here.^[64] At least until they die and are brought to the hold, their corpses hanging in cages.^[65] Or until their Traitor Tongues are ripped from their bodies.^[49]

The Second Sacristan keeps candles in their cabin. Some of the candles were once human.^[66] They call the Sacristan the Prester's Hand; how many hands does it have?^[67]^[68] (They are infinite.)^[69] And what on earth is it hiding beneath its captain's hat and cravat?^[70]^[71] (Correspondence. And more hands.)^[72]

The birds and the bats are trapped in the hold with the dead. They are surrounded by piles of their own excrement,^[73] caged and collared and crammed into bags on shelves.^[74] The Delight hunts them when not pursuing a target,^[75] and now they cry for help.^[76] 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.^[77] While all the birds are destined to adorn the banquet tables of Nidah in the end,^[78] it seems the Prester is searching for Blue Prophets in particular.^[79] 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

↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London
↑ Aboard the Delight, Fallen London
↑ Study the smouldering fleet, Fallen London "But one vessel floats beyond the flames. It is a black brig with black sails."
↑ 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."
↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "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. [...] And this second cup-bearer He bade to wait at His left hand, until such times as He saw fit to send someone on errands. To the market and so forth. [...] 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."
↑ Given to the Wax-Wind, Fallen London "The Wax-Wind blows from the Elder Continent, and today it blows towards you. [...] the Delight vanishes from view as your ship is engulfed."
↑ Speak with the Youthful Naturalist (Battling the Wax-Wind), Fallen London ""It has my scent [...] I've seen it hunt before. Across the Listening Desert outside Nidah. It won't stop until it strips my bones. Until it renders me into tallow! Where do you think all that wax comes from?""
↑ Point a spy-glass at the cloud (With Delighted), Fallen London "Not clouds. Bats. And zee-birds too. There must be thousands. Millions? Through the spy-glass, you can watch them wheeling in the most hypnotic flight patterns. Each airborne creature fits perfectly into the flock, wings and bodies aligned, despite their diverse species, like pieces in the same jigsaw puzzle. If sounds were sunbeams, then their chorus would rise like the dawn. Golden voices. Harmony. Even the zee, as your ship draws closer, smells like a garden fresh with dew."
↑ Put a stop to these proceedings, Fallen London "Along the walls, urns brim with tongues that glisten like garnets. They carry one into the captain's cabin on a silver dish, leaving the Shrouded Captive to atone later."
↑ The Traitor Tongue Speaks, Fallen London "Into the Youthful Naturalist's mouth, the Second Sacristan has poured truth itself. Truth is something that shines like a blood-red ruby. Its light sparkles behind his teeth. It shimmers on his lips. The Second Sacristan leans forward to listen, and what the Youthful Naturalist says – each word he speaks – resonates with the music of the spheres."
↑ ^11.0 ^11.1 ^11.2 Speak with the Unlikely Florist (On the Cathedral Steps), Fallen London "Then she goes on to explain that Saviour's Sap is a nickname for various crimson resins from the Elder Continent. Entirely unscientific. One can never be certain which plant is being referenced. His Lordship, however, is probably writing about Papaver longinus. "The fumes are incredibly strong. Known to induce visions and inspire devotion. [...] Impossible to cultivate, but very good for incense. It's favoured by certain religious orders for all of the obvious reasons." She wanted to personally warn you not to inhale any. Well, any more. Nobody knows how long the effects can last."
↑ Breathe deeply, Fallen London "Even out here at zee, the aroma doesn't disperse. Thick clouds enshroud the vessel like a fog. Sometimes you struggle to see through the smoke. You would gasp for fresh air, but there is no fresh air."
↑ Breathe deeply, Fallen London "Roses, roses, roses. All the roses in the world, blossoming at daybreak in a dew-drenched grove. Petals distilled into this scarlet scent, which fills your head with springtime."
↑ More Blood in the Water, Fallen London "A familiar aroma reaches your nose on the wind. The fact that there is wind is curious enough, but then you notice the waves. The aroma grows stronger as the waves grow bloodier. Your vessel glides through a burning-hot fog. Like smoke from a forest on fire. Like a whole town smouldering. Suddenly at your side, you perceive the Delight as you blink stinging tears from your eyes."
↑ Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "[...]awaiting orders from her gaunt and towering commander: the Second Sacristan."
↑ Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "She goes on to explain how the Mithridate Office enlisted mercenaries for the College of Mortality. "The money? Too good to refuse." But despite Nidah's deep coffers, their soldiers, their ships, they only sent one agent of their own. "Wanted to avoid official deployment, which is why the Commander hired so many low-life criminals – such as yours truly.""
↑ Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "Get her to tell you everything she knows about the Prester's Hand."
↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "And towering over them by at least three feet, wrapped in a great pea-coat buttoned snug as a straitjacket, their commander also lifts a spy-glass with a gangly, clawed limb – to look at you."
↑ Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "At this range, you can see how the Sacristan's pea-coat, buttoned so tightly, is nevertheless bulging like an overstuffed sausage. The Sacristan raises a limb – triple, quadruple, no, at least quintuple-jointed [...]"
↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "Other zailors aboard the Delight are wearing masks. Lacquer. Stone. Something smooth like tallow or beeswax."
↑ Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin, Fallen London "Candles glow, hundreds, around the cabin. Their wicks are fiery beams, as if the world were a stained-glass window and the candles were cracks through which sunlight could directly pour. [...] All the corsairs, kneeling, bright with glory that shines from without and also from within. They are panes in the stained-glass. Their bodies are living light. They line the walls, bowed before their radiant captain..."
↑ Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin, Fallen London "...for nothing shines more than the Second Sacristan. Sleeves streaming with sunbeams. Haloed. Bearing a golden cup upon a silver plate. The cup brims with pure honesty."
↑ Worship with the Devoted Deckhands, Fallen London "Labour itself is worship. [...] Your pulse is a steady beat, more music as you work. Kneeling with the others. Threading wicks. Rendering fat. Crafting candles, large and small, to adorn the deck. Candles for the captain's cabin. Candles to burn at the Prester's table, which is the Prester's altar, when you return to Nidah. You will need a great many candles. The Prester's table is large; everyone in the world has a seat. But the Wax-Wind has given the crew a bounty. "
↑ Descend to a lower deck, Fallen London "Here are the crew's quarters. Here is where they rest their heads, where they drink, where they dream, where they guard the Second Sacristan's cabin. More music filters through the door, thunderous and sublime as the great organ at St Fiacre's Cathedral."
↑ Take food and drink, Fallen London "Sparkling cutlery. Brimming tankards. Merriment as the tankards spill foam in a toast! Every dish served, each silver lid lifted, reveals another sumptuous morsel. [...] And the flavours you taste! Nectar. Ambrosia. Marvels on the tongue. If the Prester's Hand serves such delicacies here, then what miracles must appear at the Prester's own table?"
↑ Ask about the Youthful Naturalist (Imprisoned in Dripping Amber), Fallen London "They'll keep him locked up good and tight until then. Got a special place on the Delight for prisoners. He's probably snug in the hold as we speak."
↑ Attend to a Shrouded Captive (With Evidence 1), Fallen London "His hands are clasped, his fingers interlaced – precisely as fingers are meant to be interlaced, each fitting perfectly between the other digits – to beg the Prester's forgiveness for his sin."
↑ Descend to a lower deck, Fallen London "What birds aren't gathered here to sing sweetly? You step, as you step into the ship's hold, into a garden at dawn and a forest at midnight [...] Winged creatures, bats, even insects [...] are assembled, collected in silver cages, from the remotest islands and most distant lands."
↑ Examine the birds, Fallen London "Gilded cages fill the hold where cargo would more typically be stowed."
↑ Examine the birds, Fallen London "Peacocks strut behind the bars, emeralds and sapphires flashing in bejewelled plumage. Nightingales pour golden notes from diamond beaks. Robins with ruby feathers, and bluejays with aquamarine, and topaz canaries hop from perch to dazzling perch, each more mellifluous than the bird before. They sing together, practising here in the hold, as they will sing for the Prester himself in Nidah at their journey's end."
↑ Prepare to board the Delight, Fallen London "You can hear the zee perfectly now. Every ripple, drip, splash, trickle resonates inside your lacquer mask. Your own footsteps – thump-thumping across the gangway – are instruments in the symphony too. You cross the churning orchestra. You step onto the Delight's deck. Your offering is accepted. You, as the symphony swells – with the spray crashing over the rail, each droplet a twinkling bell in the mist – are accepted as well."
↑ Examine the other cages, Fallen London "Nidah is so very far away. Most souls would struggle to make the pilgrimage. But the Second Sacristan has blessed these lucky few with a charter. Of course, they must be caged; they are criminals, blasphemers, who would find themselves imprisoned in any lawful land."
↑ Examine the other cages, Fallen London "And yet the Prester will still accept their atonement, for who needs salvation more than the sinner?"
↑ 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."
↑ 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."
↑ 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 [...]"
↑ 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."
↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London
↑ 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."
↑ 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."
↑ 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."
↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "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. [...] And this second cup-bearer He bade to wait at His left hand, until such times as He saw fit to send someone on errands. To the market and so forth. [...] 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."
↑ Given to the Wax-Wind, Fallen London "The Wax-Wind blows from the Elder Continent, and today it blows towards you. [...] the Delight vanishes from view as your ship is engulfed."
↑ Speak with the Youthful Naturalist (Battling the Wax-Wind), Fallen London ""It has my scent [...] I've seen it hunt before. Across the Listening Desert outside Nidah. It won't stop until it strips my bones. Until it renders me into tallow! Where do you think all that wax comes from?""
↑ Point a spy-glass at the cloud (Without Delighted), Fallen London "Not clouds. Bats. Thousands. Millions? Enough to be mistaken for a storm. Through the spy-glass, you can watch their erratic flight patterns. Dipping, diving, frenzied – no, these aren't just bats. There are also zee-birds. You've never seen so many flock together. Now you can hear their cries. The noise steadily grows, shrieks and squawks commingled into one great droning scream. Louder, louder, as you zail closer, and a familiar scent gradually climbs into your nostrils: blood."
↑ Put a stop to these proceedings, Fallen London "Along the walls, beneath the instruments, ceremonial urns brim with blood. But not just blood. Severed tongues twist in the clots like great earthworms. The Masked Corsairs remove one with a hook. They rest it, squirming, on a silver plate, in order to carry it into the captain's cabin."
↑ The Traitor Tongue Speaks, Fallen London "Blood wells from the Youthful Naturalist's lips. His teeth are crimson. Inside his mouth, his new tongue is installing itself. Engulfing the old, consuming it down to the root, nibbling until its fangs are anchored. The Second Sacristan leans forward as the tongue begins to speak. It will betray the Naturalist's most secret thoughts."
↑ Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named :0
↑ ^49.0 ^49.1 Administering the Prester's Justice, Fallen London "The Shrouded Captive would scream, but his tongue is slipping down his throat – pulled backward as you labour together with the Prester's agents. You hold open his skin where his shell would attach to his spine. They have hooked something inside, something that squirms. They pull it, slowly, from the incision, and his tongue continues to disappear. His tongue is no mere tongue. It is the squirming thing: the front end, as it were, if the Masked Corsairs have caught the back."
↑ Ask about the Youthful Naturalist (Imprisoned in Dripping Amber), Fallen London "My guess is that he knows something they wanna know. They've got techniques in Nidah for making people talk. Nasty techniques. They'll keep him locked up good and tight until then."
↑ Breathe deeply, Fallen London "You would gasp for fresh air, but there is no fresh air. Only more cloying rose-scented vapour. And underneath the incense, when a rare breeze lifts the curtain for a fleeting instant: carnage."
↑ Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "[...]awaiting orders from her gaunt and towering commander: the Second Sacristan."
↑ Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "She goes on to explain how the Mithridate Office enlisted mercenaries for the College of Mortality. "The money? Too good to refuse." But despite Nidah's deep coffers, their soldiers, their ships, they only sent one agent of their own. "Wanted to avoid official deployment, which is why the Commander hired so many low-life criminals – such as yours truly.""
↑ Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "Get her to tell you everything she knows about the Prester's Hand."
↑ Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "And towering over them by at least three feet, wrapped in a great pea-coat buttoned snug as a straitjacket, their commander also lifts a spy-glass with a gangly, clawed limb – to look at you."
↑ Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "At this range, you can see how the Sacristan's pea-coat, buttoned so tightly, is nevertheless bulging like an overstuffed sausage. The Sacristan raises a limb – triple, quadruple, no, at least quintuple-jointed [...]"
↑ ^57.0 ^57.1 Ask about the Shattered Mask, Fallen London "Thank Salt and Storm and all the false-stars that it's cracked. [...] I don't typically like to lose a duel. Ain't good for career advancement. But I'd still be on the Delight if you hadn't smashed that thing, instead of spending my days in these lovely quarters. When it was still in one piece, I couldn't take it off. [...] That isn't right. After I put it on, I didn't want to take it off. Life made more sense, but I couldn't say how. Now I can hardly remember what happened."
↑ Lend yet another hand to the fight, Fallen London "She scrambles away on all fours, panting and staring wildly. "This isn't the Mithridate Office. Where am I?" Another knife, concealed inside her boot, is suddenly in her hand. "Don't send me back. Not the Delight. Anything but that nightmare!""
↑ Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "She goes on to explain how the Mithridate Office enlisted mercenaries for the College of Mortality. "The money? Too good to refuse." But despite Nidah's deep coffers, their soldiers, their ships, they only sent one agent of their own. "Wanted to avoid official deployment, which is why the Commander hired so many low-life criminals – such as yours truly." When she first met the Prester's Hand, in a dilapidated warehouse near the docks, she found the shabby scenery "funny" after the riches the Mithridate Office had promised. Other zailors were there. Then the Sacristan opened a bag filled with masks. "After that, none of us cared about the money anymore.""
↑ Chat with the other Masked Corsairs, Fallen London "Some wear lacquer masks. Some, stone. Some don't seem to be wearing masks – until you see the seams around their skulls. Flesh masking flesh."
↑ Descend to a lower deck, Fallen London "Narrow stairs. Tight, dark, and cramped. [...] You almost slip, with the bleeding walls, the ceilings, floors [...] Here are the crew's quarters. Too many people, too close together, packed like eels into a tin, and you're just another. Squeeze through. Wriggle. The Second Sacristan's cabin is ahead, guarded by more masked servants. Screams carry through the closed door."
↑ Take food and drink, Fallen London "You only note the worm halfway through the biscuit – the first of many. It is a stale biscuit. It has been stale for ages. You almost crack your teeth, but you must eat. Your stomach growls. Your throat is parched. Tankards brim with scarlet sludge, which has little bits floating on the surface and much larger bits floating below."
↑ Worship with the Devoted Deckhands, Fallen London "Labour itself is worship, and the zailors are making candles. Blubber heaped on the deck. Greasy smoke. Spluttering cauldrons. The Wax-Wind has provided the crew with copious material, and you toil with them to render the tallow. Mingled with the blubber, you discover the Youthful Naturalist. You discover his skin, anyway [...] Now you know where the Wax-Wind took his cast-off body."
↑ Attend to a Shrouded Captive (With Evidence 1), Fallen London "Not that he could give one easily. His arms are bound, hands chained together, legs locked in heavy manacles. Imprisoned for high crimes against the Design."
↑ Examine the other cages, Fallen London "These enclosures are larger than the birdcages. Shackled figures dangle from hooks mounted inside [...]"
↑ Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin, Fallen London "Candles burn throughout the cabin. Rather large candles. Hundreds amassed like humans huddled for warmth – and some are humans. Empty skin filled with wax; flames guttering in scooped eyes; wicks woven from greasy hair. Corpse-fat to feed the fire."
↑ Evade the right arm, Fallen London "Fabric shreds. Buttons bounce. The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bursts asunder at the seams, ripped by its own razor hands. More arms erupt from within."
↑ Negotiate with a beckoning hand, Fallen London "You barely repulse one hand before twenty more lunge."
↑ Abandon ship!, Fallen London "Birds burst from the hold. Bats flock into the air. Insects swarm – bees, frost-moths, butterflies – and a hundred thousand arms strain after them."
↑ Blessed by the Prester's Hand, Fallen London "The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bulges. Massive lumps shift inside. Beneath the traditional captain's cap, you see no face, even at this close range. But concealed by the Sacristan's knotted cravat, there are more lumps where most zailors would have a face. Long arms extend with long claws at their ends. Too many elbows. Impossible joints. Segmented limbs that spread, prepared to seize you in their grip."
↑ Beat back a burning hand, Fallen London "You catch one final glimpse as the cravat unravels too: fingers for a face; ruby eyes stuck in gold rings. They sparkle through the smoke, glinting beneath the captain's cap..."
↑ Climb around the fingers, Fallen London "Only now do you notice the sigils inscribed on the arms, the long strings of calligraphy [...] A single glance, and suddenly the text burns in your brain: I am eternal. Again and again, repeating on each limb: And yet my reign is circumscrib’d by Law and Fate. Carved into every talon: I will feast at my funeral, and my child shall be my cup-bearer. [...] Yet I am generous: all shall feast."
↑ 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."
↑ 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."
↑ 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."
↑ 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."
↑ 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.""
↑ 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."
↑ 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.""

[1] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London

[2] Aboard the Delight, Fallen London

[3] Study the smouldering fleet, Fallen London "But one vessel floats beyond the flames. It is a black brig with black sails."

[4] 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."

[5] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "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. [...] And this second cup-bearer He bade to wait at His left hand, until such times as He saw fit to send someone on errands. To the market and so forth. [...] 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."

[6] Given to the Wax-Wind, Fallen London "The Wax-Wind blows from the Elder Continent, and today it blows towards you. [...] the Delight vanishes from view as your ship is engulfed."

[7] Speak with the Youthful Naturalist (Battling the Wax-Wind), Fallen London ""It has my scent [...] I've seen it hunt before. Across the Listening Desert outside Nidah. It won't stop until it strips my bones. Until it renders me into tallow! Where do you think all that wax comes from?""

[8] Point a spy-glass at the cloud (With Delighted), Fallen London "Not clouds. Bats. And zee-birds too. There must be thousands. Millions? Through the spy-glass, you can watch them wheeling in the most hypnotic flight patterns. Each airborne creature fits perfectly into the flock, wings and bodies aligned, despite their diverse species, like pieces in the same jigsaw puzzle. If sounds were sunbeams, then their chorus would rise like the dawn. Golden voices. Harmony. Even the zee, as your ship draws closer, smells like a garden fresh with dew."

[9] Put a stop to these proceedings, Fallen London "Along the walls, urns brim with tongues that glisten like garnets. They carry one into the captain's cabin on a silver dish, leaving the Shrouded Captive to atone later."

[10] The Traitor Tongue Speaks, Fallen London "Into the Youthful Naturalist's mouth, the Second Sacristan has poured truth itself. Truth is something that shines like a blood-red ruby. Its light sparkles behind his teeth. It shimmers on his lips. The Second Sacristan leans forward to listen, and what the Youthful Naturalist says – each word he speaks – resonates with the music of the spheres."

[:2-11] 11.0 ^11.1 ^11.2 Speak with the Unlikely Florist (On the Cathedral Steps), Fallen London "Then she goes on to explain that Saviour's Sap is a nickname for various crimson resins from the Elder Continent. Entirely unscientific. One can never be certain which plant is being referenced. His Lordship, however, is probably writing about Papaver longinus. "The fumes are incredibly strong. Known to induce visions and inspire devotion. [...] Impossible to cultivate, but very good for incense. It's favoured by certain religious orders for all of the obvious reasons." She wanted to personally warn you not to inhale any. Well, any more. Nobody knows how long the effects can last."

[12] Breathe deeply, Fallen London "Even out here at zee, the aroma doesn't disperse. Thick clouds enshroud the vessel like a fog. Sometimes you struggle to see through the smoke. You would gasp for fresh air, but there is no fresh air."

[13] Breathe deeply, Fallen London "Roses, roses, roses. All the roses in the world, blossoming at daybreak in a dew-drenched grove. Petals distilled into this scarlet scent, which fills your head with springtime."

[14] More Blood in the Water, Fallen London "A familiar aroma reaches your nose on the wind. The fact that there is wind is curious enough, but then you notice the waves. The aroma grows stronger as the waves grow bloodier. Your vessel glides through a burning-hot fog. Like smoke from a forest on fire. Like a whole town smouldering. Suddenly at your side, you perceive the Delight as you blink stinging tears from your eyes."

[15] Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "[...]awaiting orders from her gaunt and towering commander: the Second Sacristan."

[16] Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "She goes on to explain how the Mithridate Office enlisted mercenaries for the College of Mortality. "The money? Too good to refuse." But despite Nidah's deep coffers, their soldiers, their ships, they only sent one agent of their own. "Wanted to avoid official deployment, which is why the Commander hired so many low-life criminals – such as yours truly.""

[17] Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "Get her to tell you everything she knows about the Prester's Hand."

[18] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "And towering over them by at least three feet, wrapped in a great pea-coat buttoned snug as a straitjacket, their commander also lifts a spy-glass with a gangly, clawed limb – to look at you."

[19] Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "At this range, you can see how the Sacristan's pea-coat, buttoned so tightly, is nevertheless bulging like an overstuffed sausage. The Sacristan raises a limb – triple, quadruple, no, at least quintuple-jointed [...]"

[20] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "Other zailors aboard the Delight are wearing masks. Lacquer. Stone. Something smooth like tallow or beeswax."

[21] Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin, Fallen London "Candles glow, hundreds, around the cabin. Their wicks are fiery beams, as if the world were a stained-glass window and the candles were cracks through which sunlight could directly pour. [...] All the corsairs, kneeling, bright with glory that shines from without and also from within. They are panes in the stained-glass. Their bodies are living light. They line the walls, bowed before their radiant captain..."

[22] Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin, Fallen London "...for nothing shines more than the Second Sacristan. Sleeves streaming with sunbeams. Haloed. Bearing a golden cup upon a silver plate. The cup brims with pure honesty."

[23] Worship with the Devoted Deckhands, Fallen London "Labour itself is worship. [...] Your pulse is a steady beat, more music as you work. Kneeling with the others. Threading wicks. Rendering fat. Crafting candles, large and small, to adorn the deck. Candles for the captain's cabin. Candles to burn at the Prester's table, which is the Prester's altar, when you return to Nidah. You will need a great many candles. The Prester's table is large; everyone in the world has a seat. But the Wax-Wind has given the crew a bounty. "

[24] Descend to a lower deck, Fallen London "Here are the crew's quarters. Here is where they rest their heads, where they drink, where they dream, where they guard the Second Sacristan's cabin. More music filters through the door, thunderous and sublime as the great organ at St Fiacre's Cathedral."

[25] Take food and drink, Fallen London "Sparkling cutlery. Brimming tankards. Merriment as the tankards spill foam in a toast! Every dish served, each silver lid lifted, reveals another sumptuous morsel. [...] And the flavours you taste! Nectar. Ambrosia. Marvels on the tongue. If the Prester's Hand serves such delicacies here, then what miracles must appear at the Prester's own table?"

[26] Ask about the Youthful Naturalist (Imprisoned in Dripping Amber), Fallen London "They'll keep him locked up good and tight until then. Got a special place on the Delight for prisoners. He's probably snug in the hold as we speak."

[27] Attend to a Shrouded Captive (With Evidence 1), Fallen London "His hands are clasped, his fingers interlaced – precisely as fingers are meant to be interlaced, each fitting perfectly between the other digits – to beg the Prester's forgiveness for his sin."

[28] Descend to a lower deck, Fallen London "What birds aren't gathered here to sing sweetly? You step, as you step into the ship's hold, into a garden at dawn and a forest at midnight [...] Winged creatures, bats, even insects [...] are assembled, collected in silver cages, from the remotest islands and most distant lands."

[29] Examine the birds, Fallen London "Gilded cages fill the hold where cargo would more typically be stowed."

[30] Examine the birds, Fallen London "Peacocks strut behind the bars, emeralds and sapphires flashing in bejewelled plumage. Nightingales pour golden notes from diamond beaks. Robins with ruby feathers, and bluejays with aquamarine, and topaz canaries hop from perch to dazzling perch, each more mellifluous than the bird before. They sing together, practising here in the hold, as they will sing for the Prester himself in Nidah at their journey's end."

[31] Prepare to board the Delight, Fallen London "You can hear the zee perfectly now. Every ripple, drip, splash, trickle resonates inside your lacquer mask. Your own footsteps – thump-thumping across the gangway – are instruments in the symphony too. You cross the churning orchestra. You step onto the Delight's deck. Your offering is accepted. You, as the symphony swells – with the spray crashing over the rail, each droplet a twinkling bell in the mist – are accepted as well."

[32] Examine the other cages, Fallen London "Nidah is so very far away. Most souls would struggle to make the pilgrimage. But the Second Sacristan has blessed these lucky few with a charter. Of course, they must be caged; they are criminals, blasphemers, who would find themselves imprisoned in any lawful land."

[33] Examine the other cages, Fallen London "And yet the Prester will still accept their atonement, for who needs salvation more than the sinner?"

[34] 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."

[35] 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."

[36] 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 [...]"

[37] 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."

[38] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London

[39] 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."

[40] 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."

[41] 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."

[42] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "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. [...] And this second cup-bearer He bade to wait at His left hand, until such times as He saw fit to send someone on errands. To the market and so forth. [...] 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."

[43] Given to the Wax-Wind, Fallen London "The Wax-Wind blows from the Elder Continent, and today it blows towards you. [...] the Delight vanishes from view as your ship is engulfed."

[44] Speak with the Youthful Naturalist (Battling the Wax-Wind), Fallen London ""It has my scent [...] I've seen it hunt before. Across the Listening Desert outside Nidah. It won't stop until it strips my bones. Until it renders me into tallow! Where do you think all that wax comes from?""

[45] Point a spy-glass at the cloud (Without Delighted), Fallen London "Not clouds. Bats. Thousands. Millions? Enough to be mistaken for a storm. Through the spy-glass, you can watch their erratic flight patterns. Dipping, diving, frenzied – no, these aren't just bats. There are also zee-birds. You've never seen so many flock together. Now you can hear their cries. The noise steadily grows, shrieks and squawks commingled into one great droning scream. Louder, louder, as you zail closer, and a familiar scent gradually climbs into your nostrils: blood."

[46] Put a stop to these proceedings, Fallen London "Along the walls, beneath the instruments, ceremonial urns brim with blood. But not just blood. Severed tongues twist in the clots like great earthworms. The Masked Corsairs remove one with a hook. They rest it, squirming, on a silver plate, in order to carry it into the captain's cabin."

[47] The Traitor Tongue Speaks, Fallen London "Blood wells from the Youthful Naturalist's lips. His teeth are crimson. Inside his mouth, his new tongue is installing itself. Engulfing the old, consuming it down to the root, nibbling until its fangs are anchored. The Second Sacristan leans forward as the tongue begins to speak. It will betray the Naturalist's most secret thoughts."

[:0-48] Cite error: Invalid <ref> tag; no text was provided for refs named :0

[:1-49] 49.0 ^49.1 Administering the Prester's Justice, Fallen London "The Shrouded Captive would scream, but his tongue is slipping down his throat – pulled backward as you labour together with the Prester's agents. You hold open his skin where his shell would attach to his spine. They have hooked something inside, something that squirms. They pull it, slowly, from the incision, and his tongue continues to disappear. His tongue is no mere tongue. It is the squirming thing: the front end, as it were, if the Masked Corsairs have caught the back."

[50] Ask about the Youthful Naturalist (Imprisoned in Dripping Amber), Fallen London "My guess is that he knows something they wanna know. They've got techniques in Nidah for making people talk. Nasty techniques. They'll keep him locked up good and tight until then."

[51] Breathe deeply, Fallen London "You would gasp for fresh air, but there is no fresh air. Only more cloying rose-scented vapour. And underneath the incense, when a rare breeze lifts the curtain for a fleeting instant: carnage."

[52] Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "[...]awaiting orders from her gaunt and towering commander: the Second Sacristan."

[53] Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "She goes on to explain how the Mithridate Office enlisted mercenaries for the College of Mortality. "The money? Too good to refuse." But despite Nidah's deep coffers, their soldiers, their ships, they only sent one agent of their own. "Wanted to avoid official deployment, which is why the Commander hired so many low-life criminals – such as yours truly.""

[54] Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "Get her to tell you everything she knows about the Prester's Hand."

[55] Look closer at the Delight, Fallen London "And towering over them by at least three feet, wrapped in a great pea-coat buttoned snug as a straitjacket, their commander also lifts a spy-glass with a gangly, clawed limb – to look at you."

[56] Observe the enemy ship, Fallen London "At this range, you can see how the Sacristan's pea-coat, buttoned so tightly, is nevertheless bulging like an overstuffed sausage. The Sacristan raises a limb – triple, quadruple, no, at least quintuple-jointed [...]"

[:3-57] 57.0 ^57.1 Ask about the Shattered Mask, Fallen London "Thank Salt and Storm and all the false-stars that it's cracked. [...] I don't typically like to lose a duel. Ain't good for career advancement. But I'd still be on the Delight if you hadn't smashed that thing, instead of spending my days in these lovely quarters. When it was still in one piece, I couldn't take it off. [...] That isn't right. After I put it on, I didn't want to take it off. Life made more sense, but I couldn't say how. Now I can hardly remember what happened."

[58] Lend yet another hand to the fight, Fallen London "She scrambles away on all fours, panting and staring wildly. "This isn't the Mithridate Office. Where am I?" Another knife, concealed inside her boot, is suddenly in her hand. "Don't send me back. Not the Delight. Anything but that nightmare!""

[59] Ask about the Second Sacristan, Fallen London "She goes on to explain how the Mithridate Office enlisted mercenaries for the College of Mortality. "The money? Too good to refuse." But despite Nidah's deep coffers, their soldiers, their ships, they only sent one agent of their own. "Wanted to avoid official deployment, which is why the Commander hired so many low-life criminals – such as yours truly." When she first met the Prester's Hand, in a dilapidated warehouse near the docks, she found the shabby scenery "funny" after the riches the Mithridate Office had promised. Other zailors were there. Then the Sacristan opened a bag filled with masks. "After that, none of us cared about the money anymore.""

[60] Chat with the other Masked Corsairs, Fallen London "Some wear lacquer masks. Some, stone. Some don't seem to be wearing masks – until you see the seams around their skulls. Flesh masking flesh."

[61] Descend to a lower deck, Fallen London "Narrow stairs. Tight, dark, and cramped. [...] You almost slip, with the bleeding walls, the ceilings, floors [...] Here are the crew's quarters. Too many people, too close together, packed like eels into a tin, and you're just another. Squeeze through. Wriggle. The Second Sacristan's cabin is ahead, guarded by more masked servants. Screams carry through the closed door."

[62] Take food and drink, Fallen London "You only note the worm halfway through the biscuit – the first of many. It is a stale biscuit. It has been stale for ages. You almost crack your teeth, but you must eat. Your stomach growls. Your throat is parched. Tankards brim with scarlet sludge, which has little bits floating on the surface and much larger bits floating below."

[63] Worship with the Devoted Deckhands, Fallen London "Labour itself is worship, and the zailors are making candles. Blubber heaped on the deck. Greasy smoke. Spluttering cauldrons. The Wax-Wind has provided the crew with copious material, and you toil with them to render the tallow. Mingled with the blubber, you discover the Youthful Naturalist. You discover his skin, anyway [...] Now you know where the Wax-Wind took his cast-off body."

[64] Attend to a Shrouded Captive (With Evidence 1), Fallen London "Not that he could give one easily. His arms are bound, hands chained together, legs locked in heavy manacles. Imprisoned for high crimes against the Design."

[65] Examine the other cages, Fallen London "These enclosures are larger than the birdcages. Shackled figures dangle from hooks mounted inside [...]"

[66] Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin, Fallen London "Candles burn throughout the cabin. Rather large candles. Hundreds amassed like humans huddled for warmth – and some are humans. Empty skin filled with wax; flames guttering in scooped eyes; wicks woven from greasy hair. Corpse-fat to feed the fire."

[67] Evade the right arm, Fallen London "Fabric shreds. Buttons bounce. The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bursts asunder at the seams, ripped by its own razor hands. More arms erupt from within."

[68] Negotiate with a beckoning hand, Fallen London "You barely repulse one hand before twenty more lunge."

[69] Abandon ship!, Fallen London "Birds burst from the hold. Bats flock into the air. Insects swarm – bees, frost-moths, butterflies – and a hundred thousand arms strain after them."

[70] Blessed by the Prester's Hand, Fallen London "The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bulges. Massive lumps shift inside. Beneath the traditional captain's cap, you see no face, even at this close range. But concealed by the Sacristan's knotted cravat, there are more lumps where most zailors would have a face. Long arms extend with long claws at their ends. Too many elbows. Impossible joints. Segmented limbs that spread, prepared to seize you in their grip."

[71] Beat back a burning hand, Fallen London "You catch one final glimpse as the cravat unravels too: fingers for a face; ruby eyes stuck in gold rings. They sparkle through the smoke, glinting beneath the captain's cap..."

[72] Climb around the fingers, Fallen London "Only now do you notice the sigils inscribed on the arms, the long strings of calligraphy [...] A single glance, and suddenly the text burns in your brain: I am eternal. Again and again, repeating on each limb: And yet my reign is circumscrib’d by Law and Fate. Carved into every talon: I will feast at my funeral, and my child shall be my cup-bearer. [...] Yet I am generous: all shall feast."

[73] 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."

[74] 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."

[75] 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."

[76] 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."

[77] 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.""

[78] 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."

[79] 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.""

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 The crew are kept in cramped quarters, packed like sardines;<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Descend_to_a_lower_deck|Descend to a lower deck|Fallen London|}} ''"Narrow stairs. Tight, dark, and cramped. [...] You almost slip, with the bleeding walls, the ceilings, floors [...] Here are the crew's quarters. Too many people, too close together, packed like eels into a tin, and you're just another. Squeeze through. Wriggle. The Second Sacristan's cabin is ahead, guarded by more masked servants. Screams carry through the closed door."''</ref> they are fed stale biscuits and... oh God, viscera?<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Take_food_and_drink|Take food and drink|Fallen London|}} ''"You only note the worm halfway through the biscuit – the first of many. It is a stale biscuit. It has been stale for ages. You almost crack your teeth, but you must eat. Your stomach growls. Your throat is parched. Tankards brim with scarlet sludge, which has little bits floating on the surface and much larger bits floating below."''</ref> The wax of the candles they make to pass the time is rendered from the remains of those claimed by the Wax-Wind.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Worship_with_the_Devoted_Deckhands|Worship with the Devoted Deckhands|Fallen London|}} ''"Labour itself is worship, and the zailors are making candles. Blubber heaped on the deck. Greasy smoke. Spluttering cauldrons. The Wax-Wind has provided the crew with copious material, and you toil with them to render the tallow. Mingled with the blubber, you discover the Youthful Naturalist. You discover his skin, anyway [...] Now you know where the Wax-Wind took his cast-off body."''</ref> The heavily shackled prisoners aboard might even be the lucky ones here.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Attend_to_a_Shrouded_Captive_(With_Evidence_1)|Attend to a Shrouded Captive (With Evidence 1)|Fallen London|}} ''"Not that he could give one easily. His arms are bound, hands chained together, legs locked in heavy manacles. Imprisoned for high crimes against the Design."''</ref> At least until they die and are brought to the hold, their corpses hanging in cages.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Examine_the_other_cages|Examine the other cages|Fallen London|}} ''"These enclosures are larger than the birdcages. Shackled figures dangle from hooks mounted inside [...]"''</ref> Or until their Traitor Tongues are ripped from their bodies.<ref name=":1">{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Administering_the_Prester%27s_Justice|Administering the Prester's Justice|Fallen London|}} ''"The Shrouded Captive would scream, but his tongue is slipping down his throat – pulled backward as you labour together with the Prester's agents. You hold open his skin where his shell would attach to his spine. They have hooked something inside, something that squirms. They pull it, slowly, from the incision, and his tongue continues to disappear. His tongue is no mere tongue. It is the squirming thing: the front end, as it were, if the Masked Corsairs have caught the back."''</ref>
-The Second Sacristan keeps candles in their cabin. Some of the candles were once human.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Enter_the_Second_Sacristan%27s_cabin|Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin|Fallen London|}} ''"Candles burn throughout the cabin. Rather large candles. Hundreds amassed like humans huddled for warmth – and some are humans. Empty skin filled with wax; flames guttering in scooped eyes; wicks woven from greasy hair. Corpse-fat to feed the fire."''</ref> They call the Sacristan the Prester's Hand; how many hands does it have?<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Evade_the_right_arm|Evade the right arm|Fallen London|}} ''"Fabric shreds. Buttons bounce. The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bursts asunder at the seams, ripped by its own razor hands. More arms erupt from within."''</ref><ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Negotiate_with_a_beckoning_hand|Negotiate with a beckoning hand|Fallen London|}} ''"You barely repulse one hand before twenty more lunge."''</ref> And what on earth is it hiding beneath its captain's hat and cravat?<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Blessed_by_the_Prester%27s_Hand|Blessed by the Prester's Hand|Fallen London|}} ''"The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bulges. Massive lumps shift inside. Beneath the traditional captain's cap, you see no face, even at this close range. But concealed by the Sacristan's knotted cravat, there are more lumps where most zailors would have a face. Long arms extend with long claws at their ends. Too many elbows. Impossible joints. Segmented limbs that spread, prepared to seize you in their grip."''</ref><ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Beat_back_a_burning_hand|Beat back a burning hand|Fallen London|}} ''"You catch one final glimpse as the cravat unravels too: fingers for a face; ruby eyes stuck in gold rings. They sparkle through the smoke, glinting beneath the captain's cap..."''</ref> ([[Correspondence]]. It's hiding Correspondence.)<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Climb_around_the_fingers|Climb around the fingers|Fallen London|}} ''"Only now do you notice the sigils inscribed on the arms, the long strings of calligraphy [...] A single glance, and suddenly the text burns in your brain:'' I am eternal. ''Again and again, repeating on each limb:'' And yet my reign is circumscrib’d by Law and Fate. ''Carved into every talon:'' I will feast at my funeral, and my child shall be my cup-bearer. [...] Yet I am generous: all shall feast.''"''</ref>
+The Second Sacristan keeps candles in their cabin. Some of the candles were once human.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Enter_the_Second_Sacristan%27s_cabin|Enter the Second Sacristan's cabin|Fallen London|}} ''"Candles burn throughout the cabin. Rather large candles. Hundreds amassed like humans huddled for warmth – and some are humans. Empty skin filled with wax; flames guttering in scooped eyes; wicks woven from greasy hair. Corpse-fat to feed the fire."''</ref> They call the Sacristan the Prester's Hand; how many hands does it have?<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Evade_the_right_arm|Evade the right arm|Fallen London|}} ''"Fabric shreds. Buttons bounce. The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bursts asunder at the seams, ripped by its own razor hands. More arms erupt from within."''</ref><ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Negotiate_with_a_beckoning_hand|Negotiate with a beckoning hand|Fallen London|}} ''"You barely repulse one hand before twenty more lunge."''</ref> (They are infinite.)<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Abandon_ship!|Abandon ship!|Fallen London|}} ''"Birds burst from the hold. Bats flock into the air. Insects swarm – bees, frost-moths, butterflies – and a hundred thousand arms strain after them."''</ref> And what on earth is it hiding beneath its captain's hat and cravat?<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Blessed_by_the_Prester%27s_Hand|Blessed by the Prester's Hand|Fallen London|}} ''"The Second Sacristan's pea-coat bulges. Massive lumps shift inside. Beneath the traditional captain's cap, you see no face, even at this close range. But concealed by the Sacristan's knotted cravat, there are more lumps where most zailors would have a face. Long arms extend with long claws at their ends. Too many elbows. Impossible joints. Segmented limbs that spread, prepared to seize you in their grip."''</ref><ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Beat_back_a_burning_hand|Beat back a burning hand|Fallen London|}} ''"You catch one final glimpse as the cravat unravels too: fingers for a face; ruby eyes stuck in gold rings. They sparkle through the smoke, glinting beneath the captain's cap..."''</ref> ([[Correspondence]]. And more hands.)<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Climb_around_the_fingers|Climb around the fingers|Fallen London|}} ''"Only now do you notice the sigils inscribed on the arms, the long strings of calligraphy [...] A single glance, and suddenly the text burns in your brain:'' I am eternal. ''Again and again, repeating on each limb:'' And yet my reign is circumscrib’d by Law and Fate. ''Carved into every talon:'' I will feast at my funeral, and my child shall be my cup-bearer. [...] Yet I am generous: all shall feast.''"''</ref>
 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...

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Revision as of 23:25, 26 September 2024

What You See...

...Is Not What You Get

Scientific and Cultural Inspirations

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