[quote=Sara Hysaro]Is this the code to solve or am I barking up the wrong tree?
TYRA NTSGARD ENS FO UR FORTY
Right on the spot! Well, it WAS an invitation after all…
“A tortoise arrives at your door bearing a heavy stock card, smudged with odd blue-voilet stains and smelling of molten correspondence plaques. It bears only a name and address. The tortoise cocks her head at you with a hopeful expression.” Forgot who sent me this lovely message, Had it on my clipboard for too long.
Oh, that was mine! I’m delighted you enjoyed it. :D
Just got his cheery little missive:
For you: bjorntfh has invited you to accept their Calling Card. Do so, and they’ll become an Acquaintance. "As you lay at the well your meditations are interrupted by the faint sound of sand and gravel being moved. Standing you see a sopping figure drag itself out of the Zee and slowly crawl to you, trailing a long umbilical. As it gets closer you realize that it is actually a rope, attached to a noose around the poor man’s neck. He weakly holds out a small card to you. As you take it the noose is suddenly drawn tight and the man is dragged down the beach back into the ocean by his neck, leaving a wake of scattered bloody stones and then foamy water behind him. Taking a moment to examine what he gave you, you find yourself now in possession of a pale white square of soft and pliable material, the surface of which is neatly marked in tiny blue script, while the edges are embroidered with black silk. It reads: "May this missive find you Well. We of the Seeker-Council congratulate you on your astounding progress and will gladly assist you in whatever manner we can. As you can see, our reach even extends to this place, as it should. Expect some Holiday Cheer soon. Signatory to the Seeker-Council, Bjorntfh." On the lower left corner of the card you notice a tiny C marked into the material."
Hermiting isn’t what it used to be.
A friendly note I recieved from a Mr Rory Townsend
In murky times such as these, even a solitarian such as myself appreciates the value of… I hesitate to say &quotfriends&quot, but certainly aquaintances. You have proven yourself to be a competent individual, and I think that future collaborations between us would result in mutual benefit
which I have to admit it almost bought a tear to my eye
Ewan C sent me this lovely thing
A card in truth: a playing card - the seven of diamonds, as it happens - embossed with Ewan C’s credentials. And also with the smallest, most elegant of sapphires
I always was fond of sapphires…
And finally ashdenej graced my doormat with this
An enamel card! It feels oddly rigid. It appears to be made from the tooth of some hopefully long-dead creature. The corners are wrong. The edges are wrong
…I really hope it doesn’t bite.
edited by Hex on 12/4/2013
From Edlaine Saphburgh to Seeker of Names:
Mr.Feld, Mr. Names… thanks, you’re making me blush!
On my own, i should say that Miss Fenwick’s card has a most delicious enigma seamed in itself. Thanks for the ring!
I got this delightful one from OScarletO:
A small glass box that could be made of smoke for its swirling sooty hue is sitting upon your desk, tucked to the side as though it were a paperweight, holding down today’s mail instead of part of today’s mail. Fitting in the palm of your hand, it is clearly quite delicate, the lid kept tight by spring-loaded hinges - should one slip in opening, the snap of the lid could shatter the entire piece, you figure. Within lies a ribbon of puzzle-damask in the most luxuriant crimson hue, curled into a circle roughly the size of your ring finger. There can only be one person bold enough to offer this symbolic gift as her calling card…
Something new in its place:
For you: MayExist would like to send you a box of… something. "Say RNG three times into a mirror while holding a knife and a lit candle. Blow out the candle. Hand the knife to the person passing you in the darkness. Your package will contain 77 Enigmas."
edited by Leraika on 12/22/2013
I felt this exquisite passage should be preserved:
[quote=dragonridingsorceress]I felt this exquisite passage should be preserved:
Thank you :) I sent the cards out last night and forgot to paste in the message consistently so some of them went out blank. Glad you liked it![li]
I just got another really great one:
The Incorrigible Raconteur has invited you to accept their Calling Card: a polite overture to other social actions! Accept, and they’ll become an Acquaintance.
“The post has been sparse today. Perhaps the postman was waylaid by urchins? You remember the scarab-man saying something about it, while he was refilling the street-lamps. Or did you dream that? Regardless, there is only a single letter of note for your attention today: the envelope is a sumptuous ivory colour, immediately evoking the taste of clotted cream -real cream! You’d almost forgotten it existed- and the address on the front is perfunctory but flowing. Inside, a neat card with neat writing neatly begs your attention. The ink is a delicious cerulean, and almost cheeky with presumption. You can’t help but feel that if handwriting could tip you a saucy wink, this one would. It reads: “My dearest; Whilst we are far from boon companions, your name has reached my ears more than once. Delivered by friendly tongues that I greatly value the opinion of, I feel it only fair that I extend this invitation to you, that I might sample your worth first-hand. Accept, and I can promise you a whirlwind of subterranean delights, hitherto unknown to sane man or partially-crazed beast! Refuse, and I shall bear you no ill will. May we both live to bask in the Light of the Mountain again. Yrs, The Incorrigible Raconteur.” …Again?”
I just came to post that one myself.
Miss Perative is looking for an Author of note to be guest of honour at their salon. Would you do them the kindness of attending?
““My dear! Those Temperance ladies have been after me to have them to my salon–en MASSE, yet!–and I couldn’t think of a finer guest of honour than you. I rather like the notion of you reading a bit from your most scandalous work, if only to watch them grow offended… then titillated… then completely raving! The sooner we get rid of them, the sooner we can kick up our feet and crack open a bottle of Wines’ finest. To Temperance! (And the lack thereof!) Feel free to save the invite for a time when it can do your reputation the most good.””
"A card falls through the letterbox, the deep blue ink and cream card immediately familiar to you. Another note from the Raconteur of your acquaintance! This one has a seal on one side: a mountain, and a hand grasping an apple. The wax is purple, which somehow strikes as a little unseemly, but it gives off a reassuringly expensive air - and an aroma of something dark and mysterious. “My dearest friend,” reads the card, its cerulean ink equally soothing and eye roll-inducing. “I would be positively consumed with delight if you should see your way clear to joining me for drinks at Caligula’s Coffee House. I have reserved one of their nicer tables, paid a little extra for something that looks a lot like flowers at first glance, and whilst I have never had much of a taste for the bean… Well, I believe they say that the company is what makes up nine-tenths of an outing! We shall simply have to stuff ourselves with cream cakes to force down that last tenth. I will await your reply with barely concealed delight. Yrs, The Incorrigible Raconteur.” "
I get a lot of good ones - including those sent to Dr Taupe-Wainscot, which shall appear in the narrative! - but Hubris got this rather smashing message.
"Esteemed Sir, I am nobody of importance, neither is there anything worthwhile to know about my past; what is important is my future, for I will be, no doubt, an individual of portentous works and name. Back in Ulster, I was granted an insight from a blow that could just as easily have deigned to kill me; instead, it showed me a garden of brass wherein flowed Milk and Honey, and the warm, religious choir of bees filled the air that was no air. My purpose is clear, my soul spoken for, my supplication for your patronage could not be any more grandiose if Sennaherib himself prostrated himself before you to ask for the secret words needed to build his bloody city. But do not make the mistake to think me for a scholar, Sir. Gladly I deliver the truth that I am but a fiend and I have done on the Surface things that are vile and unspeakable and the same tongue licks my heart here below the earth. Not only that, I must go further hereafter for the sake of sweet saint and her gospel that to write I must crack open skulls and fill the empty pews where idiots spoke of wheels-in-wheels and Babylonian spirits with the diligent and timeless and above all the veritably existent. If you will not give me the Milk of the Brass Embassy, the day will not come when I will taste the Honey of the Iron Republic and all the words that I saw back when I lay bleeding in that wretched pub in Lifford - my chrysalis, my hexagon - will be gone, retroactively and perfectly. Yours truly, Bombastus Conleth."
I just got something that has to be the best social action I’ve ever received.
You have received a letter from Silas the Showman (Silas the Showman in Fallen London). "Dear Sir or Madam, I am a one-time prince of Hell of some importance. I would ask you to allow me to introduce myself; my name is however unfortunately unpronounceable by vocal cords that have not been stretched by screams of unimaginable torment. I am contacting you because I have amassed great wealth which is now in jeopardy. I am in need of trustworthy individuals with whom my former subjects have no relationship. I seek your cooperation and assistance in the transfer of 7’777’666.00 echos worth of Nevercold Brass Slivers and bottled non-liquids to London. To show my appreciation I will offer you 15% of the total sum including 20% of interest earned. Please treat this issue confidentially. Please assist me in acquiring the funds for a ship permit as well as the crew and supplies required for the journey. I wait to hear from you. [Disclaimer to avoid confusion: This is a joke account neither run nor endorsed by Failbetter Games.] "
Apart from my copy of Silas’ letter, I received this lovely little missive in the post:
“The box appears at your lodgings in the arms of an errand-urchin. You reach in your pocket for a bit of rostygold for him, but he puts up his hands and shakes his head. “No need! The missus took care of me.” He cannot wait to run away. You aren’t expecting a gift, but a scholar of your standing is accustomed to surprise deliveries. You unwrap the paper around the box and find a note in ornate penmanship. “A token of admiration in honor of your most recent research into the Correspondence. It brought to mind the tale of Fenella Racine and her Handlebar-Moustachioed Balladeer, the two lovers who killed each other over a rumored third party. Their ribbons found their way into my possession. I do believe they are drenched in each other’s blood. Profoundly romantic, don’t you agree?” You open the box; the soft sheen of Surface-Silk slips into your hands, and you unfold it gingerly. The two Black Ribbons have been entwined together, gorgeously and heavily, into very nearly the shape of the sigil you have just deciphered, ‘Unthinkable mutual harm as a foundation for intimacy.’ The Perative woman is known for black-market trading, but even you could not have expected that she would forward these two Ribbons to you. It’s her way of saying that your status as the third party in question will go no farther than this box. You examine the knotted black silk strips, adjust the angle of a serif, and the ribbons catch fire. Your lodgings smell of old blood.”
Thanks, Miss Perative!
[quote=Cocytus]Apart from my copy of Silas’ letter, I received this lovely little missive in the post:
"The box appears at your lodgings in the arms of an errand-urchin. You reach in your pocket for a bit of rostygold for him, but he puts up his hands and shakes his head. "No need! The missus took care of me." He cannot wait to run away. You aren’t expecting a gift, but a scholar of your standing is accustomed to surprise deliveries. You unwrap the paper around the box and find a note in ornate penmanship. "A token of admiration in honor of your most recent research into the Correspondence. It brought to mind the tale of Fenella Racine and her Handlebar-Moustachioed Balladeer, the two lovers who killed each other over a rumored third party. Their ribbons found their way into my possession. I do believe they are drenched in each other’s blood. Profoundly romantic, don’t you agree?" You open the box; the soft sheen of Surface-Silk slips into your hands, and you unfold it gingerly. The two Black Ribbons have been entwined together, gorgeously and heavily, into very nearly the shape of the sigil you have just deciphered, ‘Unthinkable mutual harm as a foundation for intimacy.’ The Perative woman is known for black-market trading, but even you could not have expected that she would forward these two Ribbons to you. It’s her way of saying that your status as the third party in question will go no farther than this box. You examine the knotted black silk strips, adjust the angle of a serif, and the ribbons catch fire. Your lodgings smell of old blood."
Thanks, Miss Perative![/quote]
[li]
curtsy I am sending a few more in honor of the Correspondence translations I liked, but of course now the RNG has decided to be stingy with sending me to the Square of Lofty Words. Glad you enjoyed!