A new religious brochure is in circulation around Fallen London. While this is nothing new, and its content is not out of the ordinary (espousing the virtues of solemnity and family etc…) there is a strange advertisement hidden in the corner of the last page.
NEEDED: Individuals of particular talent and skill.
Must be willing to work with rubbery men[/li][li]Ability to work under pressure [/li][li]Working eyes, limbs, all bodily functions in decent order. [/li][li]Own supply of candles [/li][li]NO DEVILS
If interested please come to Mrs Plenty’s carnival before midnight, the reward will be considerable assuming the criteria of the mission is carried out to the satisfaction of the employer. Ambulemus in lumine et servire Domino. S.W
He waited in Ms Plenty’s Carnival. He did not know what the deal with this advert was or what the latin meant, but the no devils line had made him curious. "Surely putting no devils on the list would attract their attention? Either whoever wrote this is a fool or he WANTS the devils to know. Either way it should be fun." As someone who dislikes the devils, his interest was piqued, as as a rather bohemian individual who did whatever pleased him at the time, he was curious enough to listen to whatever this would be employer had to say. A considerable reward was interesting too of course. edited by Kylestien on 2/16/2015
Doctor Wolfram took one look at the advert, screwed it up and threw it in the bin. No devils indeed! What sort of idiot even delivers this sort of junk to an old steamer anyway, he wondered. Especially one occupied by such a person as himself. edited by doctor wolfram on 2/16/2015
The carnival began to empty as midnight approached, drops of moisture on the gates made a gentle melody and the still air gave the impression of a calm before a storm. Samael was waiting in the shadows of the game tent, slowly counting his rosary and observing the souls entering the carnival. One caught his eye, a confident man with a bohemian disposition. The bohemian community was not known for its piety, but without the eloquence of poets then the true form of the lord could never be realised. It mattered little however, as he was no devil, and had come to aid Samael in his lamentation. edited by Samael Waylander on 2/16/2015
He looked around. So where was this mysterious employer? He looked about and saw someone loitering in the shadows of the game tent, playing with some rosarys, or at least what he hoped were rosaries and not something else. He dithered a bit on whether to approach the apparent employer or wait for him to reveal himself. In the end, he chose on waiting. “These poius types love a good entrance and grand speech, who am I to take it from them?” so he stood there patiently waiting with the others.
Amber Harwood walked into the carnival and looked around. She wore a simple black dress with a belt with a pouch that held several candles and lock picking tools. She cautiously looked around, wondering if this was some sort of trap and she’d end up robbed or worse. One couldn’t be too trusting in the Neath, a lesson Amber was learning more and more as time went on.
She’d only been in the Neath about six months and really wasn’t all that well versed in the strangeness that seeped into everyday life here. But she was determined to learn and cling to at least some form of sanity and morals, even if she had to lighten the pockets of a few people time to time.
[quote=Samael Waylander]NEEDED: Individuals of particular talent and skill.
[ul][li]Must be willing to work with rubbery men[/li][li]Ability to work under pressure [/li][li]Working eyes, limbs, all bodily functions in decent order. [/li][li]Own supply of candles [/li][li]NO DEVILS[/quote]
[/li][/ul]Mx.Bitterhorn* fingered the leaflet with their clammy hands again. Not the most pious or renowned of curates, and certainly not an IMPORTANT one, in practice – after all, how many people truly lived in the Vicarage encompassing what were now the black swamps of the south and east, at least for any significant length of time? The Vicar had far more subordinates than was strictly necessary, one had to admit. And yet, this curious advert had caught the Church’s eye and been handed down from one politely disinterested hand to the next until it had finally reached that which now held the leaflet at Mrs. Plenty’s.
Presently, this rather unwholesome individual folded the leaflet into a perfect square, which soon disappeared tracelessly somewhere within the void of a sable felt overcoat. Colorless eyes dilated to black holes in the tent’s interior before finding the small crowd gathering in a far corner. Thus, as quietly as their perpetually-moist leather shoes would allow (curse that damnable squeak!), Bitterhorn stepped tentatively forward, donning an oily smile and creasing their eyebrows in a plasuible caricature of sincerity and compassion. After all, one never knew when an unexpected glance might light upon ones face a few seconds too early… and what was this occupation if not a primer in keeping up appearances until they soaked through the skin of deceit and became as one with ones own true intentions?
Information was survival - and they would have it, by fair means or foul.
*the missing letter is nebulous, as though written hastily in a crabbed & rangy hand; an awkward afterthought lost in a minim-forest
The beads ran through Samael’s fingers like sand through an hourglass. “more could come if they wished but introductions must be made, professionalism is respected” he thought as he made his way to the possible employees. A young lady had joined the party, a deer caught in the light perhaps, or a wolf. Who knows these days. Despite his hard and craggy appearance Samael had a surprisingly soothing voice, like red honey poured into your ear.
“Salutem young friends. I see you all noticed my little advertisement in the brochure, which I hope you all read in full. Now the job at hand is somewhat complicated and I assume most of you here are mostly interested in the reward. I can offer you all 100 echoes now, and a further reward when we finish. Understand that the job is difficult and your souls are at risk. The job itself is a…retrieval…of sorts, more can be explained if you decide to continue…”
He spoke. "So, let me get this right. You expect us to accept a job, with no knowledge of what we are retrieving, presumably from devils, who are hard to rob, and do a difficult job that could very well result in our souls being taken and destroyed or tormented, all for 100 echoes and the promise of a greater reward of which we know not and might be something silly like salvation? …I like you. I’m in. Though I think you are mad. I like mad." edited by Kylestien on 2/17/2015
“madness has been confused for piety many times in the past but I appreciate your faith, faith is a long forgotten commodity…and while I wish I could offer you salvation, that honour can only be achieved through your own righteousness” said Samael bowing his head slightly to Kylestein. A man had come forward with a smile that would float on water, and not in a good way, but appearances could be deceiving thought Samael. “another? very good, very good. Do the rest of you have any questions or can I assume you are all ready to know the venture?”