The Masters of the Bazaar

"The Masters of the Bazaar - Mr Wines, Mr Spices, Mr Veils and the rest - speak in high-pitched whispers, and under their concealing cloaks they seem winged or hunchbacked. Fallen angels, stunted pterodactyls, mobile colonies of fungus? They dismiss all personal questions with an airy wave of their gloved hands."

"The Masters apply peculiar customs duties: to fish below a certain size, to green ribbons but not red, to speckled eggs but not plain. Perhaps their strangest tax is a heavy duty on stories of love, but it only applies to stories leaving the Neath..."

The Masters of the Bazaar: it's hard to describe these cloaked, slightly creepy things as anything but, well, alien space bats. They call themselves Mr, but they may not really be men. There are eleven titles, but two space bats take up four of them, and the rest have one apiece for a total of nine bats. Confusing? Fallen London is generally that way...

An Introduction

"Authority is what's left when the money runs out."

The Masters of the Bazaar are in near-complete control of London's trade economy. Each Master oversees a certain form of trade; for example, Mr Iron oversees the trade of metals and weapons. The Masters may seem united, but in truth, many of them run independent (and sometimes counterproductive) schemes that occasionally span far beyond the scope of London. What they are united by, however, is their near universal lack of empathy for the whims of mere humans. While some Masters, like Mr Wines and Mr Apples, may seem keen on pleasing people and giving them a good time, the cadre of cloaked beings are still more than a few rungs higher than humans on the Great Chain of Being, and they are often very quick to (indirectly) remind people of the fact. It is entirely possible to curry favor with these enigmatic beings, but many of them simply use particularly talented humans as pawns for their own schemes and goals.

The Masters generally took on similar jobs and roles in the previous Fallen Cities; for example, they were called Khans during the time of the Fourth. As might be expected of these beings, the Masters are thousands of years old. Don't ever mention the Second City in their presence, however; they will all react in different but unanimously negative ways.

The Masters as a Group

"Are you quite sure you want to know this?" Beyond this point lie major spoilers for Fallen London, Sunless Sea, Sunless Skies, or Mask of the Rose. This may include endgame or major Fate-locked spoilers. Proceed at your own risk. You can find out more about our spoiler policy here.

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Mr Apples/Mr Hearts

"Catch?' There is no 'catch'. All is delight and freedom from care!"

"This upstanding citizen governs commerce in food, wood and immortality. They say it's an ally of Mr Veils."

A peddler of life.

Mr Apples, also known as Mr Hearts, has also been known by the names Mr Barley, the Lord of Blood, the Saint of Flesh, the Paradisal Saint, the Khan of Roots, and the Khan of Hearts. Known for a love of games and gambling (for which reason it created the high-stakes card game known as the Marvellous), this darkly cheery and overly familiar Master is in charge of trade in food, wood, and immortality. It can be found at Mrs. Plenty's Carnival occasionally. As Mr Hearts, it deals in meats, skins, ligaments, bones, bloods, and animals, and runs an emporium at the Labyrinth of Tigers. It's probably the most innocent Master; the worst atrocity it is known to commit is selling a very mysterious meat from suspicious sources at its storefront.

How Marvellous

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Sunless Skies

"Gone. But I could make more. I was Mr Apples, once. As I was once other things, other names, other people."

In the Sunless Skies timeline, when London rose to the skies, a few masters followed. One of them was Mr Apples, now known as the Chiropterous Hoarder. It used to sell Hesperidean Cider for a high price, but it has run out of its precious golden apples, so it now seeks a new and better means of immortality.

Mr Cups

"Work hard for the enrichment of the Bazaar, and us all. Shun seditionists. Practice courtesy & honesty."

That which is empty.

The distant and proper Mr Cups, also known as the Saint of Chalices, is in charge of trade in crockery, pottery, and sculpture. It employs a group of Relickers; these collectors are tasked with salvaging junk or certifiable scraps, which they sometimes pay for with valuable items.

Mr Cups is also known to be possessive in its attempt at monopolizing the trade of clocks. This may be the reason why it and Mr Wines drove the Watchmaker's Daughter, a talented craftswoman whose toys came alive, to suicide.

As Mr Mirrors, it is also in charge of trade in "the frangible and the fine." This includes fine or quality secrets, unlike the more affordable variety proffered by Mr Pages. Mr Mirrors is also known to side with Mr Wines in its dispute over dreams with Mr Spices.

Best Served Cold

"The Bazaar's dream is a folly! Its message will be spurned, and when it is, its heart must not break, but ignite! For vengeance is hot as love! Let it suffer, and let the sun suffer – as I have suffered over the span of five cities!"

A blade you forged in your heart.

Mr Cups is behind the murders of the loved ones of Fallen Londoners seeking their Nemeses. It hired Scathewick to murder seven particular people, to lure seven Surface-dwellers to the Neath. The Surface-dwellers shall have their tales of vengeance etched into the spire of the Bazaar, alongside other love stories by the Lady in Lilac, who was coerced by Mr Cups.

Ironically, Cups' own motivation for this complicated scheme is also revenge. It's grown tired of serving the Bazaar over five cities, and now thinks that the space crab's mission will fail. By tainting the Bazaar's collection of love stories with revenge stories, Mr Cups hopes that it can cause the Sun to "ignite" and suffer. It feels no remorse or regret for what it has done, and will certainly not apologize.

Mr Mirrors

"For years she stalked one Master, Mr Mirrors. It's gone. It's been gone for years. She lured it into dreams. And dreams – nightmares – are her weapons."

""To be reduced to this," it bemoans. "Undone by a perfidious revolutionary, given to my own pet as a toy—" here, it shoots a wounded look across the moor, to where the Claiming Wind harries the heathers, "—and now at the mercy of some anonymous Parabolan vagrant." It turns its fractured eyes on you. "Miserable.""

That which needs to be filled.

The "Mr Mirrors" that many Londoners know of is actually a persona put on by its former colleague, Mr Cups. Also known as the Saint in the Glass, the original Mr Mirrors actually disappeared from the Neath before the events of Fallen London, and Mr Cups took over its identity in its absence.

In an age when the Masters still scoured the skies, Mr Mirrors was hunted down and captured for glass-whispering, a mysterious ritual that involved quietly speaking to a shard of a mirror in a hidden cave in an asteroid in deep space, by its fellow Curators. Glass-whispering is considered a sin to Curator-kind, so Mirrors was likely exiled following its capture. Some time after this, a heavily scarred and ostracized Mr Mirrors chose to follow the other Masters beyond the Avid Horizon to join the Echo Bazaar on its mysterious mission, and with it, carried a box containing the Claiming Wind, a tempestuous entity that Mirrors treated as some sort of pet.

Unfortunately for it, around the time of the Fifth City, Mr Mirrors was imprisoned by a woman with an affinity for the Parabolan: October of the Calendar Council. October did so by disguising her identity and winning the Marvellous, the Masters' high-stakes card game that grants the winner their Heart's Desire. October, being an avid revolutionary, wished that Mr Mirrors would be chained in Parabola in a "prison of its own failures", effectively destroying its presence in reality.

Presently, Mr Mirrors is chained to a fence-post in the centre of a crossroads on a hill deep in Parabola, serving as a fortification guarding the mysterious Grave of Mirrors. This crossroads is known as the Beggar's Wake, and very little remains of Mirrors itself. Meanwhile, its former pet, the Claiming Wind, has been set free, and it will do anything in its power to ensure Mr Mirrors stays chained, just like it was once chained itself. Around the Beggar's Wake, other dreams of Mr Mirrors have manifested as physical locations in Parabola: the Court of Honey and Spices, representing its dream of glass-whispering, the Convocation of Runts, representing its dream of the Avid Horizon, and the Pedlar King, representing its ultimate ambition of becoming a great and terrible king. Within all these dreams, all the aspects of Mirrors have one trait in common, cracked, mirrored eyes.

Mr Fires

"Not bad, my little one. I’ll be keeping an eye on you."

File:Fire.png

To help get through the darkness.

Mr Fires has also been known as the Khan of Fire and the Saint on the Pyre. Known for being the only Master who actually likes living in London, this strict yet confident Master is in charge of trade in coal, gas, and candles (since the fall of the Third City at least), as well as dockside trade and dirigibles. Rumor has it that it intentionally tampers with the love stories of London so as to make them useless to the Bazaar and prolong its stay in the Fifth City. But Mr Fires has a dark side: it also is cruel to its employees, hates unions.

Out of all the Masters, Mr Fires makes the most use of their enforcers, the neddy men. It can usually be found near its office in Wolfstack Docks.

A Moon of Misery

"You visited my Orphanage, you saw my moon-milk research. I was hoping to use the milk to bankrupt London of love stories. It proved insufficient. It is not a convincing forgery; it creates only a shallow obsession that fades after a few years. A blink of the eye."

Mr Fires runs the Orphanage, which is really a secret testing facility for all sorts of atrocious substances.

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Mr Iron

"Tools, printing-presses, guns, steam-engines: taxes from trade in these are payable to Mr Iron. They say it never speaks, but can write with both hands simultaneously."

Some dexterity required.

Mr Iron has also been known as Mr Bronze, the Saint of Blades and the Khan of Swords. Known for communicating only through written means (often writing with both hands at once), this silent and seemingly humorless Master is in charge of trade in tools, engines, weapons, and printing presses. It also heads the Iron and Misery Company, and supervises its Funging Station in Demeaux Island, one of the most abhorrent places in the Neath.

Mr Iron actively discourages notable professions and involvement in stories, as it seems to have a degree of animosity with the Bazaar. Rumor has it that it is also secretly in charge of the game of Knife-and-Candle.

Mr Iron can be occasionally encountered at Mrs Plenty's Carnival, but that's not necessarily a good thing.

Mr Pages

"It is my business to keep secrets, your Grace. Mine and the Ministry’s. We desire only to preserve London from maleficitude."

Something to burn? Or something else entirely?

Known for a bountifacious proclivity towards verboserlous sayitudes, the excitable and friendly Mr Pages, also known as the Saint of Inks, is in charge of trade in anything and everything written as well as all manner of writing implements. Mr Pages employs the Ministry of Public Decency, who are tasked with collecting cool books protecting the public from "pestilent and obstacudent" literature. It's rather ruthless with how it goes about this, however; the censorship of the Ministry is often suffocating, and it's implied Pages killed at least two authors who didn't give up their work. As one of the more accessible Masters, Mr Pages can be encountered throughout the whole of London. It also manages the Bazaar's index of London's Notables, and it may send unsigned letters to those who sufficiently prove themselves.

Revision and Editing

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Mr Spices

"I do not play games! I am a Master of the Bazaar! It is not a matter for games!"

Just a drop.

The irritable and peevish Mr Spices, also known as the Saint of the Silk Road, is in charge of trade in spices, sweet smokes, and prisoner's honey.

Mr Spices and Mr Wines were once friends, but then they fell into dispute over which of them has right and claim to the domain of dreams. One of the more elusive masters, Mr Spices appears very infrequently in the stories of London; it seems that the only situation in which one may encounter it is during the hunt for Jack-of-Smiles (which this Master created in a halfhearted attempt to somehow make more love stories through murder).

Mr Stones

"Mine."

Like a star in the palm of your hand.

The terse and materialistic Mr Stones, also known as Mr Marble, is in charge of trade in all manner of stones and minerals including jewels, quarrystone, salt, blasting powder, and numerous corrosive mineral compounds. It is rumored that Mr Stones tires of life in the Fifth City and wishes to expedite its end. To this end, it is responsible for the Affair of the Box.

Mr Veils

"A scream is just an imperfectly tuned song. And we all have a song in our hearts."

"Mr Veils deals with clothing and fabric, and takes a close interest in the silk-weavers of Spite. But not in any of the more dubious activities in the district of Spite! The mere suggestion is slander!"

Keep your hands clean.

Duplicitous and impatient, Mr Veils, also known as the Khan of Silks, and the Masquerader Saint, is best known for its enjoyment of hunts and songs. It is in charge of trade in clothing and fabrics. Zailors sometimes misattribute Mr Veils as being in charge of Mr Wines' ladies of the evening in their zee-zongs. This Master may (or may not) be responsible for a certain betrayal of which we will not specify.

Mr. Veils assumes another, more malevolent identity as well, which is probably the only known case of a Master actually using its wings.

A Bounty on its Head

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Mr Wines

"To the wicked and the wise! To the hungry and the sharp!"

"Trade in anything drinkable comes under the jurisdiction of Mr Wines. Though it can't be bothered with water. Entertainment, music and the business of the ladies of the evening are also its domain. There's supposed to be some sort of dispute about dreams."

Care for a sip?

Mr Wines has also been called the Khan of Dreams, the Crowned Saint and the Cloaked Emissary. Known for entertaining guests at huge revels, this jovial Master is in charge of the trade in all things drinkable, including medicine and with the exception of water. One of the more accessible Masters, it can be encountered throughout London; for example, it'll occasionally appear at Mrs. Plenty's Carnival. Most of the time, though, it conducts business through its favored servant, Jervaise. It is in charge of a group of dancing beauties who are often misassigned by zailors to Mr Veils.

Though Mr Wines is not known for many atrocities, it and Mr Cups/Mr Mirrors drove the Watchmaker's Daughter, a talented craftswoman whose toys came alive, to suicide. Mr Wines is also London's most notorious check-skipper, and has a reputation for leaving others holding the bill for parties here and there.

Ozymandias

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Mr Sacks

"A knock on your door. A hunched figure. Every year, this Crimson Beast of Winter brings his terrible sack, demanding gifts to fill the void. And now you hear a high-pitched, faintly peevish voice: 'What will you put in my sack?'"

HO HO HO

Mr Sacks appears during the eponymous 12 Days of Mr Sacks, a rather demented version of Christmas. It is also known as the Crimson Beast of Winter. It is - er, they are in fact other figures of note: at first Mr Wines, then various Nomen (and one showman) emulating the other Masters.

Mr Sacks carries around a huge bag, which it uses to collect gifts from the citizenry over the course of the holiday. It's Christmas, only in reverse. And more ghastly, because sometimes, Mr Sacks will collect people.

Mr Chimes

"Who is it? Is it, in fact, one of the Masters of the Bazaar? Is it Mr Iron or Mr Pages trading under another name? Or is it a bold rascal pretending to be an unknown Master?"

For the Exceptional only.

We do know that it runs the House of Chimes. Mr Chimes has also been known as the Khan of Drums; it seems to be a role played by many Masters.

The Masters' Artifacts

Everyone has treasures they'd like to keep under wraps, and the Masters are no exception.

The Crimson Book

"The most stirring, the most wretched, the most savage tales of love and loss are here entombed. It has passed through fire and flood to rest in your hands. Leave it sealed... for now." The Crimson Book contains the most 'savage tales of love and loss' and has 'passed through fire and flood'. This indicates that the Crimson Book may have been written long before the Fifth City; perhaps it is still being added to today? The Masters have allegedly assigned a group of Special Constables to specifically seek out and confiscate any and all copies.

Masters' Blood

"The most grandiose trophy an anarchist might aspire to. Was it shed in battle, or given as a gift?" Masters' Blood has many unusual and unique properties that separate it from normal blood. It is a far deeper red, is cold to the touch, and contains a song: 'an unending fading ring like black space struck with a fingernail.' It also emits a constant low vibration, and if left on a shelf, other items will physically move away from it.

Veils-Velvet
"If Mr Veils shed hair - if blind orphans collected, carded and spun it over the years - it might just look like this." Little is known about Veils-Velvet aside from this quote, which would explain why this fabric is so incredibly valuable.

The Sceptre of Mr Wines

"Topped with a black ruby miniature of an unknown crown, this bronzewood sceptre represents all the authority of some far-away kingdom and its once and former king." A symbol of power that once belonged to a king. The Scepter of Mr Wines is as heavy as lead, covered in frost and talon-marks, and is topped with a jewel from a faraway land. Mr Wines doesn't like looking at it much; maybe it's just insecure.

Mr Spices' Private Stash

"A quantity of a drug you haven't encountered before. You have only the rumours of where it comes from and what it might be." "It's half patent medicine, half substances that should not be capable of existing." This substance is rumored to be a new kind of drug developed by Mr Spices. This drug calms its consumer, and its soporific effect is known to be more effective on bat and bat-like creatures. But the most interesting thing about this substance is its effect on pregnant creatures. Pregnant animals who consume this drug find their offspring stronger; runts of the litter also survive longer. However, they would also become quieter and calmer... ...and it is said that Mr Spices itself is consuming this drug.

What Lies Under the Cloak

"The second source is A Rhyming Revelry, a slim book of nonsense rhymes written by a once-celebrated cellist. He was, for a time, a favourite at Mr Wines’ revels. One rhyme concerns eleven pilgrims who travelled from a cold and windy waste. It enumerates each of the reasons the pilgrims were unwelcome in their homeland."

Mr Apples / Mr Hearts. Art from Sunless Skies.

Based on two controversial sources, one called On the Origins and Descent of the Masters and another called A Rhyming Revelry, we may reveal the following information.

The Masters belong to a species native to the High Wilderness called Curators. These oversized space-bats hunt in the space between stars, often alone. On occasion, a group of Curators may band together to boast of their horde and trade deals, and may fight amongst themselves for supremacy. Curator chiefs are described as "victorious, merciless pedlar-magnates."

In the grand scheme of things, the Masters of the Bazaar weren't Masters at all. Rather, they were a group of misfit criminals who joined forces with the Bazaar to escape "misfortune, failure, and fruitlessness."

A Rhyming Revelry provides hints about the crimes of the Masters, though which crimes correspond to what bat are based on conjecture and guesswork. The circumstances given in A Rhyming Revelry are:

• hoarding (Stones?)

• light-bringing (Fires?)

• impersonation, and the delivery of false testimony (Cups?)

• perpetration of the crimes of knife and of candle (Iron?)

• idleness, and the dwelling-on of dreams (Spices?)

• runtery, aberration (...?)

• pursuit of a Treachery (Apples/Hearts?)

• failure and defeat; a fall from king to beggar (Wines?)

• glass-whispering. And worse: charity (Mirrors?)

• truth-strangling (Pages?)

• violation of the Order of Days, “which determines the hour of the hunt, the feast, the council, the bargain, and the slaughter” (Veils?)

Mr Eaten

"In the migrainous straits of deep sleep, there is a marsh where candle-flames buzz like wasps." WARNING: Beyond this point lie spoilers for Fallen London's most infamous storyline: Seeking Mr Eaten's Name. Turn back now. You can find out more about our spoiler policy here.

"Who is Mr Eaten? A good question, but not a wise one."

"The Drowned Man's brothers - aye, and sisters - gave him to the knives and the lacre."

There is appetite.

Consumed long ago when the Third City fell. Now a reclusive shadow of its former self. The main force behind the nightmarish, incredibly menacing search for its true name. One could pursue this search... but don't. Just don't.

"A reckoning is not to be postponed indefinitely."

References

80.