The House of Rods and Chains

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"The House of Rods and Chains; a ruined palace atop a rotting Messenger. Now home to uninvited guests of a rubbery persuasion."

"You near the House of Rods and Chains, a ruined complex atop a great dead beast. Once it was the favourite Messenger of the sun. Before it disobeyed."

"The Repentant Devil examines the House of Rods and Chains from the window. 'A reminder of how the Judgements treat those who defy them.'"

The House of Rods and Chains is the rotting, stinking corpse of the dead Messenger of the Halved.

A Sense of Déjà Vu

"'Hm? Oh, sorry. It reminds me of old London, and the Echo Bazaar.'"

Once, the House was "the favourite messenger of the sun" - or in this case, the suns, because the Halved was once a binary star. The Halved murdered it for defying an unknown command, after which its servants fled - all seven, except for one.

Similar to the the Echo Bazaar, seven spires once stretched across the messenger's carapace, though only one remains intact. It still has seven doors: Leather, Rubber, Chitin, Scale, Fur, Flesh, and Feather. 

It is home to Rubbery Men, which came from London "in a ship forged from broken shells," and its sole remaining Curator. There are also some zee-captains, who are mysteriously covered in eye markings.

Commingling on the Carapace

"The Rubbery Men have taken over this spiral shaped atrium. They gather here to trade amber and share songs of loss and regret. Its shape gives it excellent acoustics – the songs resonate from the walls, doubling the volume and timbre of their voices."

Golden amber, the color of hope.

The Rubbery Men residing here run a shop called the Throat of Lamentation in the spire that lies beyond the Chitin Door. Within this atrium the Rubbery Men also congregate to sing of their losses and regrets. The Laments are as follows:

• The Lament of the Old Sun
• The Lament of London
• The Lament of False Hope
• The Lament of Axile

Deeper within the House lies the Drowning Coils, which lead to the Shapeling Vats. Here, the Rubbery Men work together to perform amber-alchemy. Golden amber is especially desired, but failed experiments result in worthless black sludge. Deeper still is the Spawning Morass, a massive cave filled with howling, feral Rubbery Men. The Rubberies here built pyres that spew apocyanic light.

Curators in Exile

Like The Echo Bazaar, the House of Rods and Chains had its Curators. However, many of their paths diverged after its death.

Mr Barleycorn

"There were seven of us, once. Outcasts, bound to this Messenger's service. But the Messenger defied the Halved's command, and the Halved slew it. We were free. My colleagues, fled. But I remained to serve the Halved. "Tell the chained one — tell the chained one we still wait in the dark. When it has the courage to break its chain, we will be here." Mr Barleycorn, known as the Seneschal, is the only Curator of its group that remains loyal to the Halved. It resides alone in its belfry within the Spire of Inches, the last remaining spire of the House, and it only allows visitations from those who have proven their worth. It dislikes the Rubbery Men who reside in the House, as it finds them to be poor conversationalists. However, it does often accept tribute of golden amber from them. Within its office lies a doorway to the Unterzee, which leads to the Eye in the Unterzee. Mr Barleycorn offers to ink grotesque eye designs on lost zailors' arms, which according to Barleycorn, are messages of the Liberation of Night. Mr Barleycorn has an interest in music, books, and information - specifically, information regarding the status of its brethren. It uses special Correspondence seals to communicate with them, should they ever be found. Mr Barleycorn also has something that many revolutionaries could only dream of: the attention of its boss, the Halved. Those who wish to communicate with the Halved should can consult Barleycorn for this purpose.

Mr Pennies

"Everything ends," the figure wheezes. "Even law. For everything, a reckoning. Need help. Need hours. Postpone reckoning. Shadows with thistle ropes and broken wings, waiting on riverbank to catch final breath. Everything dies. Must outlast. We trade, yes? Trade Hours? We trade Hours now, yes? Good quality merchandise..." "If the boon of a long-life is that one out-lasts one's mistakes, its curse is that they nip at your heels for eternity. I wonder what Mr Pennies hides from. Perhaps one day I will ask, before I too beg for protection under the mountain." Mr Pennies, known as the Caretaker, is a pathetic, moth-eaten Curator who fled to Lustrum after the House's death. There, it runs a "shop" (more like a begging stand, but charity is a crime) where it exchanges Hours for trinkets and Sovereigns. Mr Pennies dislikes the practice of serving the Messengers; according to it, the Curators who serve them simply go unrewarded. Deep within Lustrum lies Pennies' hideout, the Light in the Mountain, There, it uses its gathered Hours to keep a horde of ailing, elderly Curators alive. According to Pennies, these Curators are sinners who chose agony and life over dying and possibly facing the consequences. Pennies himself is a sinner; it looks after these Curators as a form of penance. Mr Pennies also uses a dangerous Red Science array for its purposes, though it seems to be malfunctioning. Curators who want extra life have to trade in one of their beloved treasures for Hours.

Mr Menagerie

"The light binds. The light blinds. All things it places in a chain. Our place is our worth. Some accept; we liberated." "I confess, I am amazed it has survived. My master was not tolerant of its various weaknesses. Its single-mindedness; its cleaving to antiquated custom. How it chafed at its chains." Mr Menagerie, known as the Runt, is the most rebellious of the seven Curators of this space crab. It travels across the High Wilderness selling animals. This Curator once knew the secret of the stars, but it decided to "burn" the secret from its brain to avoid the attention of the Fire That Follows.

Mr Pipes

"A serving boy returns, bowing apologetically. Mr Pipes is relaxing and has no interest in either chitter or chatter. If you have business, you may present it to one of the staff. Otherwise, his master encourages you to avail yourself of the facilities." "'Perhaps it is true that we live too long.' Mr Barleycorn daubs the seal in ink and presses it to paper. 'I suppose there are less pleasurable paths to follow, though the emptiness awaiting at the end of that one's will be dark indeed. I favour music, myself. A symphony is as potent to me as good wine is to you. Your kind have been bounteous in that regard.'" Mr Pipes, known as the Hedonist, is the space-bat proprietor of the House of Silks, a hookah establishment in Achlys. The locals see it very rarely; it's too busy relaxing. Its rare appearances in public are usually made to welcome smugglers who deliver red honey to its property. It is heavily implied that – unbeknownst to its customers – the honey is used as a secret ingredient in its hookah.