The Soft-Hearted Widow

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"The Soft-Hearted Widow is jingling her collecting tin along the queue for the theatre. When she sees your fine clothes, she rattles the tin loudly enough to distress the horses pulling nearby hansoms. Don't you recognise her from somewhere?"[2]

The Soft-Hearted Widow is a well-known philanthropist who offers shelter to new arrivals in London.[3] She provides them with three hot meals a day and initial lodgings — whether a spare guest room,[4] bedroom, or whatever space she can borrow.[5] She is often seen collecting donations, as she campaigns tirelessly for support for her charity.[6]

Over the years, the Widow has taken in more than a few unusual tenants, and their fates frequently haunt her to the point of anxiety and tears. The August Travel-Writer vanished without explanation,[7] leaving the Widow to wonder if she had somehow offended him.[8] (She did not. The Travel-Writer is an assassin[9][10] for the Admiralty, and left in haste upon seeing his estranged father visit.)[11] The Fidgeting Writer, a restless soul haunted by three mysterious figures, also left his lodgings suddenly; the Widow wishes she could have done more to help him in his predicament.[12]

The Widow once had a rather surprising second occupation. Before Knife-and-Candle was outlawed, she worked as a signaler for players of the underground murder-game, discreetly informing them when to make their moves.[13]

The Last Emissary[edit | edit source]

Spoilers ahead: May include midgame or minor Fate-locked content.

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"The man is in a tailored suit. He looks serious, dignified – but the creases by his eyes suggest he's repressing a smile. The woman by his side wears a gown, delicately laced at collar, sleeve and hem. Her hair is piled up, ornamented with roses. She looks exuberant. Is there something familiar about her?"[14]

As her epithet suggests, the Soft-Hearted Widow once had a husband: a member of the Admiralty whom she believes was lost at zee.[15] In reality, he willingly took part in the diplomatic efforts that preceded the Agreement About Nothing of Consequence, undergoing a transformation to become an Emissary to the Flukes.[16] The process drastically altered his body,[17][18] rendering it impossible for him to reveal his survival to his wife (not that he particularly wishes to).[15] To make matters worse, a conflict with the Khanate[19] near the Flukes' embassy derailed the Admiralty’s attempts at diplomatic communication, leaving the Emissary obsolete.[20] He was hidden away in a Veilgarden residence,[21] where he lingers in the shadows, subsisting on the occasional fish that strays into his dwelling[22] and still yearning to complete his original mission.

References[edit | edit source]

  1. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London
  2. ↑ The Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London
  3. ↑ Charm your way into someone's home, Fallen London "Are you a replacement for a child she lost? Or is her interest in you a little more carnal? Either way, you become the Soft-Hearted Widow's guest. You deserve somewhere better, of course. But this will keep you out of the cold. […]"
  4. ↑ A Spare Bedroom, Fallen London "The guest-room of a soft-hearted widow. Three hot meals a day and a real feather-bed go some way towards compensating for the weekly, and noisy, hymn-singing sessions in her parlour."
  5. ↑ Shelter a newcomer to London, Fallen London "The Soft-Hearted Widow has asked you for a favour."
  6. ↑ The Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London "The Soft-Hearted Widow is jingling her collecting tin along the queue for the theatre."
  7. ↑ A Confession of the Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London "The Widow has written of an August Travel-Writer she took in; better heeled than her usual lodgers, but insistent – his plight must have been desperate indeed. He kept odd hours and was often away, but on chilly evenings they shared tea and spoke of the prior Sunday's sermon. Until one November morning, when she found his room empty, and her lodger gone."
  8. ↑ A Confession of the Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London "How had she offended him? She speculates frantically. Was her tea bitter? Her mushroom scones dry? Should she have invited him to dine with her guest – an old friend from the Admiralty – when he visited that week?"
  9. ↑ A Confession of the Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London Wiki note: The August Travel-Writer appears in Sunless Sea. He is an assassin; he would have departed regardless of her actions.
  10. ↑ The August Travel-Writer's Request, Sunless Sea "The August Travel-Writer flips through his notebook while on your deck. "Awful thing, that murder. Commonplace here, I suppose. Fortunately, my interview was illuminating and my business on the Mourn is complete. We can depart. I've another port to visit, if you'd care for another hundred and fifty echoes.""
  11. ↑ A Confession of the Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London "Should she have invited him to dine with her guest – an old friend from the Admiralty – when he visited that week?"
  12. ↑ Track down the Fidgeting Writer, Fallen London "A Soft-Hearted Widow shows you the leaky garret he used to rent. The worst holes are plugged with discarded poem-fragments, the words ruined by the rain. Honey-scent clings to the rafters. "I do miss him," she sobs. "It was an accident. I'm sure it was an accident. When he wrote I wouldn't see him for days on end – I thought he was at his work. I didn't know he..." she can't continue."
  13. ↑ Meet her eyes and make the Sign, Fallen London "This one sometimes carries messages for the Game of Knife-and-Candle. Is it time?"
  14. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London
  15. ↑ 15.0 15.1 The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "For a moment, you remember Margaret. [...] She believes you lost at sea. In a way. A kindness. She would not have understood. Your nation called. You serve. [...]"
  16. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "[...] You are the last of twelve volunteers. Five survived the amber infusion. Two survived to maturity. None have survived the embassy. None yet."
  17. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "A violet mass heaves in the stinking pool – a thing of appendages, of spines. Its limbs flail, splashing to no apparent goal or effect other than to drench your hems in slimy water. At the centre of the mass is a man's face – angular, with deep-set eyes. Its mouth droops in stupid, silent misery."
  18. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "The thing convulses. Its tangled core swells above the water, then collapses back. An appendage reaches towards you, and there is still something human in its joints, its pallid skin. Its face does not change, however – the mouth still sags. The blood-shot, bulging eyes do not blink, but they stare. It is unclear whether there is any intelligence behind them; it is clear, though, that you are seen."
  19. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "Lieutenant! There are four Khaganian vessels. They are manoeuvring to surround us, just as they did off the Carnelian Coast. If we do not fire first, we will not fire at all! And this—" he points at you, "is the last of them! Our last chance!"
  20. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "[...] The zubmarine shudders as a torpedo launches. Moments later, a shockwave rocks the vessel. [...] The Fluke-song changes. It is no longer curious; it is incensed. Their embassy has been profaned, and today they have learned that their domain is worth killing for. [...] Trespassers, they sing as they slay. Trespassers!"
  21. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "The package the Severe Bluejacket left you contains two things: a key, and a piece of paper. The paper bears an address, and this untidy note: 'To you, Sir, I bequeath my final choice. Here is the address where I have kept the Last Emissary. I entrust it to your conscience.'"
  22. ↑ The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London "In one corner is an underwater tunnel – too small for the thing to escape through, but large enough for fish to enter. You soon get to see the creature feed, when a curious fish darts in and begins exploring the walls. The monstrosity falls absolutely still. The fish draws near. The thing whips an appendage out, spearing its prey on its needles. Then it scrapes its wriggling victim into that ever-open mouth. It does not chew. But it palpitates ravenously, rings of interior muscle pulping the fish into a deliquescent morsel."
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