Editing The Delight
From The Fifth City Wiki
The edit can be undone. Please check the comparison below to verify that this is what you want to do, and then publish the changes below to finish undoing the edit.
Latest revision | Your text | ||
Line 31: | Line 31: | ||
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. [...] 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 [...] You hold open his skin where his shell would attach to his spine. They have hooked something inside [...] 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 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. [...] 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 [...] You hold open his skin where his shell would attach to his spine. They have hooked something inside [...] 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 | 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 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 [...] 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 [...] 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. [...] there is a constant murmur that means: Help."''</ref> It is a law of the Elder Continent that "thou shalt harm no thing that flies," but an exception is made for the Prester's servants.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Discuss_their_contract_with_the_Mithridate_Office|Discuss their contract with the Mithridate Office|Fallen London|}} ''"Tanah-Chook. Venderbight. Apis Meet. Cline. All ports they touched in their pursuit. Not just for the Youthful Naturalist, but for other targets. "Thou shalt harm no thing that flies, for they carry the airs of the Garden," recites an Eye-patched Soprano. "Only to my servants is it given to hunt them – and you'd better believe we hunted them.""''</ref> While all the birds are destined to adorn the banquet tables of Nidah in the end,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Examine_the_birds|Examine the birds|Fallen London|}} ''"Eagles enchained. Peacocks leashed. Blackbirds captured to bake into a pie. Bats to roast, goshawks and geese to baste, swans to marinate in nightingale gravy, with butterflies and frost-moths breaded, fried, and sprinkled for a crisp garnish. Perhaps the creatures know their destinies. Perhaps that's why they flap their wings and thrash against the bars. Bloody feathers. Screeches. Claws scratching for liberty beyond their reach."''</ref> it seems the Prester is searching for [[Blue Prophets]] in particular.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Devise_a_plan_to_board_the_Delight|Devise a plan to board the Delight|Fallen London|}} ''""When we weren't chasin' that scholarly chap, the Commander had us huntin' birds," says the Cutthroat Tenor. "Never did capture a Blue Prophet. Now yours would make a fine tribute.""''</ref> One can only guess at the reasons, but perhaps He seeks an army of Prophets to foresee the deaths of His enemies... | The birds and the bats are trapped in the hold with the dead. They are surrounded by piles of their own excrement,<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Descend_to_a_lower_deck|Descend to a lower deck|Fallen London|}} ''"You smell the hold before you enter it. An eye-blistering stench [...] 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 [...] 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. [...] 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... |