The Masters of the Bazaar
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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. |
"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
Here is a list of the Masters and their domains.
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| "'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." Mr Apples, aka Mr Hearts, has also been known by the names Mr Barley, the Khan of Roots, and the Khan of Hearts. Known for a love of games and gambling, this darkly cheery, kind, and 'overly familiar' Master is in charge of trade in food, wood, and immortality. 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 (whose consumption makes one Unaccountably Peckish) at its emporium. Mr Apples can be encountered rarely at Mrs. Plenty's Carnival. Those seeking to obtain pleasure-yachts will have to gamble with it - and win - to get them. | ||
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| "Work hard for the enrichment of the Bazaar, and us all. Shun seditionists. Practice courtesy & honesty."
Known for a harboring a strong enmity toward Mr Spices, Mr Cups is a distant and proper (though possibly flirtatious) Master who's in charge of trade in crockery, pottery, and sculpture. 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 Cups employs a group of Relickers; these collectors are tasked with salvaging junk or certifiable scraps, which they sometimes pay for with valuable items. It can be found running an emporium in the Labyrinth of Tigers; its alter ego Mr Mirrors can occasionally be encountered in the Mirror-Marches. Mr Cups appears to be behind the murders of the loved ones of Fallen Londoners seeking their Nemeses. It and Mr Wines also drove the Watchmaker's Daughter, a talented craftswoman whose toys came alive, to suicide. "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." "It's true. They were lost before the rest. The Saint of Tapers and the Saint in the Glass. We never speak their names. One we have hope of seeking, the other is gone. That saint will not be with us again." It's heavily implied that Mr Mirrors actually died long before the events of Fallen London, and that Mr Cups stole its identity. Apparently, the real Mirrors was killed by a woman with an affinity for the Parabolan: October of the Calendar Council. | ||
File:Fire.png Mr Fires | ||
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| "Not bad, my little one. I’ll be keeping an eye on you."
Mr Fires has also been known as the Khan of Fire. 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 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, and runs the Orphanage, which is really a secret testing facility for all sorts of atrocious substances. Mr Fires controls the Master's enforcers, the neddy men. It can usually be found near its office in Wolfstack Docks. | ||
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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. Mr Iron has also been known as Mr Bronze 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. 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. | ||
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| "It is my business to keep secrets, your Grace. Mine and the Ministry’s. We desire only to preserve London from maleficitude."
Known for a bountifacious proclivity towards verboserlous sayitudes, the excitable and friendly Mr Pages 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 As one of the more accessible Masters, Mr Pages can be encountered throughout the whole of London, especially at the emporium he runs in the Labyrinth of Tigers. It also manages the Bazaar's index of London's Notables, and it may send unsigned letters to those who sufficiently prove themselves. | ||
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| "I do not play games! I am a Master of the Bazaar! It is not a matter for games!"
The irritable and peevish Mr Spices 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. It and Mr Cups are also enemies. 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). | ||
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| "Mine."
Mr Stones has also been known by the name Mr Marble, and perhaps the Khan of Marble as well. This terse and materialistic Master is in charge of trade in all manner of stones including jewels, quarrystone, salt, and blasting powder. It is rumored that Mr Stones tires of life in the Fifth City and wishes to expedite its end. Mr Stones can be encountered running one of the emporiums in the Labyrinth of Tigers; it is also responsible for the Affair of the Box. | ||
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| "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!" Duplicitous and impatient, Mr Veils is best known for its enjoyment of hunts and songs. It is in charge of trade in clothing and fabric and can be encountered running one of the emporiums in the Labyrinth of Tigers. 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. | ||
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| "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." Mr Wines has also been called the Khan of Dreams 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. | ||
The Not-Masters
These figures are not considered "true" Masters. Rather, they are titles held by several other beings.
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| 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?"
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. | ||
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| 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?
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.
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| 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. | ||
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| 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 low constant vibration, such that if left on a shelf other items will physically move away from it. | ||
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| 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. A similar material can only be obtained by blind orphans who have collected scraps of Mr Veils' "hair" then carded and spun it for over a year. | ||
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."
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?)
The Devoured Master
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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. |
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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. 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. | ||
