Fantasy Delicious Friend... | Fallen London Information

[0stinato]

"The Bazaar stole London three decades ago. Of course only anarchists and revolutionaries say 'stole' any more. Everyone who matters has grown to know and love the status quo. It's quiet down here. All those jewels and mushrooms and all that black water. What could be better?"

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Locations
Veilgarden - (Persuasive) a place for the sharp-tongued and dry-throated, where games between pub patrons are as simple as reading or as deadly as shooting.
- The Singing Mandrake, the pub, of sorts, for the common rabble.
- The Honey-Dens, take a sip of Prisoner's Honey and be transported to another place... and you'll hopefully have a good time.
- Literature and Poetry abound!
- You can write, too!

Spite - (Shadowy) a place for the dark and quick, where you do best to keep your hands in your pockets or risk someone else's sneaking in.
- The Alleys of Spite, watch your pockets, or watch other people's.
- Casing jobs, a good thief takes his time and builds up to the heist... a great one does it in his sleep.
- The drunks in the gutters don't even notice you.
- Maybe the Widow will notice you.

Watchmaker's Hill - (Dangerous) you should venture there if you're looking to get physical. You can pay to fight, or get paid to kill.
- Feducci's Illegal Fighting Rings, are you keen to see teeth and blood in the air? Pay a small fee and you can be the cause of them.
- Medusa's Head, the public house for those with strong fists and stomachs.
- Pick up killing requests, if you have the aim for it.
- Perhaps you can even hunt the notorious Jack-of-Smiles.

Ladybones Road - (Watchful) if your eyes are as quick as your wit, you'll fit in well there. An aspiring detective or one with the ear for secrets may have their fun there.
- There's a highway to Hell near here, only question is... where?
- If detective work is your passion, spend some time at Ladybones Road.
- Catch a cat, how about that? What does he say, what does he say?
- Clathermont's Tattoo Parlour, it offers more than just permanent ink. It offers mental scarring too.

Mrs Plenty's Carnival - a place to let off steam and enjoy yourself, should you be willing to buy (or steal) a few tickets.
- The Refreshment Pavilion, a great time if you like not knowing what's between your teeth.
- The Big Top, meet your friends and enemies here. Or maybe it's just someone in makeup.
- Travel beneath the Neath! So dark you forget what light is.
- Don't get too close to the exhibits, you might get thrown out.

Wolfstack Docks - if rioting, spider fights and salty zee air make you smile, definitely wander down there. You may get your hands dirty, but the zailors are no stranger to that.
- Spider fights, gamble, bet and trade. Or, if you're feeling brave, go and catch your own!
- The riots are frequent, but are you on the side of the law or the rebels?
- The burning in the distance... who could have caused that?

The Bazaar - the place that is both famous and infamous, the bazaar is the essence and heart of the city. Buy, sell, barter and trade, all under the careful and watchful eye of the Bazaar. Some refer to the Bazaar as a female, though some refer to her as male. She takes no offence to either. Or does she?
- Buy things with Echoes!
- Sell things for Echoes!
- Don't rob her!
- I mean it!

 

[Mr_DC]

Bohemians - Writers, actors, musicians, painters and other reprobates. There is a certain glamour in attic and gutter, but surely there are better ways to make a living.
While the Neath provides more than enough inspiration and patronage for artists, it provides just as many vices. Veilgarden's honey dens are packed full of Bohemians and the occasional spies.

The Church - Theology in London, down in the earth among the devils, is a tricky business. The Church has learnt to adapt.
After losing the war with Hell shortly after landing in the Neath, the Church found its position weakened. To regain its strength, the Church learned to appreciate the status quo.

The Constables - The Constables protect the rich, the powerful, and the Masters. But sometimes, too, they protect the wretched poor.
The men in blue hunting criminals, the men in black protecting Masters' interests, the men on velocipedes delivering brutal justice. These are the Constables.

Hell - Courteous, rapacious, merciless, beguiling. The emissaries of Hell are here for one purpose: souls. Well, and also perhaps the company, the sights and a little chamber-music.
While their home is Hell, the Devils of London reside in the Brass Embassy. Charismatic beyond measure with one thing on your mind. Don't let the smiles and amber eyes fool you, they aren't interested in your flesh.

Society - Riches, power, beauty, refinement. The great, if not necessarily the good.
Those who make the world of London keep turning. The lavish parties may make the high Society seem aloof but make no mistake - they know how to remain powerful.

Criminals - Wherever there's poverty, darkness, despair, there's folk to make a profit on it. And London has these a-plenty.
From the pickpockets of Spite and the Fisherking urchins who fish valuables from the rooftops to the mad Raggedy men of the mad Topsy King. These are the individuals who know how to make a profit without hard work. At least, not on their end.

The Great Game - For half a century, the agents of the Powers played their Great Game in central Asia. Now London is their tournament-ground. The Great Game is played between the Bazaar's Masters, the surface cities, and other powers. Spies and assassins are their pawns.
Anyone could be a spy. Everyone can be a pawn. Many dabble in the Great Game, doing odd jobs for small rewards. Few actually know how to use the Game to their advantage - and how to survive while doing it.

Revolutionaries - Some call them the dynamite faction, but they're very far from united. Socialists, anarchists, foreign agents: only their hatred of the Masters unites them.
If you desire a change from the greed of the Masters or you simply like blowing up wealthy bankers, the Revolutionaries will take you in as one of their own. Just don't ask how exactly they treat their own.

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[, ...bats]? 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 have no legal authority. They are merely influential businessmen, when all's said and done. Very influential businessmen, possibly immortal, probably not human. But nevertheless.