A story of mine regarding the shadows of the Fifth City and its inhabitants.
Attention, this is a storylet for players with basic Shadowy without item modification 180 (Just kidding, read ahead).
You’re strolling around the alleys of Spite. You see an Urchin pick an important-looking man’s pocket and smile. Then a cry goes up. Neaby a man is writhing on the ground. There is no blood on the ground around him and nothing seems off. But you hear wispers rising around you: "His shadow", "He’s a ‘shadowless’"…
And you notice that he’s missing his shadow. The familiar dark shade that accompanies every inhabitant of London and, you suppose, every other inhabitant of the Neath.
You look around, maybe hoping to find the man’s shadow. It would certainly be profitable. But no, there’s nothing around you. You…Wait, what was that. Something out of the corner of your eye. You turn around. Nothing. Apart from the stares you get from other people around you.
You act like nothing happened and walk away.
And realize your pocket feels lighter. D____d urchin!
A sagacious criminal with a liking for Chess Games. Hates revolutionaries.
It’s been happening often lately. One moment you are roaming the streets without a single thought, the next you are lying on the ground writhing in pain as your shadow disappears in the darkness of the streets. No one is safe. From the most humble barkeeper to the more important member of high society. The Constables are litterally submerged by requests from the citizens to do something. But, up to now, they only managed to lose their shadows themselves. All around the city people have started to sell hamulets to prevent this kind of things from happening. Their usefulness is, at best, discutable. But it wouldn’t be London if no one had tried to make some money from the situation. F.F.Gerbrandt has been trying to create a new tincture whith the purpose of restoring lost shadows. From what you heard the results have been… scary was the word your contact used. All the while, whenever someone’s shadow gets stolen, because now everyone agrees they are being stolen, you can see people whipping their head around like they’ve seen something. But there’s always nothing, absolutely nothing. Or is there?
One day you’re roaming around the back alleys of Spite, hunting down a courier. If anyone asked you would answer it’s for the informations but, deep down, in the darkness of your mind, you knnow it’s more for the sake of the good old times, when you had just escaped New Newgate and were a Sir. Nobody. You smile. That was the way your old patreon called you with. It never angered you, probably because you knew he was right.
You turn a corner, one with the shadows of the alley, and you see it happening. The courier is on the ground, writhing in pain, his load of secrets and documents forgotten on the ground next to him. And you see it. A black form moving away from him. You start to run. The blackness notices you and also starts to run. Fast. But you’ve learned your ways around here. You round a corner, disappearing from the figure’s line of sight. After a while you round another corner and find yourself in front of the figure. He, or she, notices you turns into another alley, never stopping to run. He surely isn’t a newbie. You run behind the figure and reach a little plaza shrouded in darkness…
The figure has disappeared. D__n it! But at least you know where it disappeared. It’s a start. Now, let’s find out what all of this is about.
Hello, zodiac here. So, as you have noticed this is going to be a multiple part story. Every once in a while a new part will come out for you reading pleasure. If you have any good ideas or writing tips I’ll gladly hear them all. All feedback will give me great pleasure.
Zodiac36gold, a sagacious shadow. I player of chess with the ambition of winning 100 games. A supporter of the Masters with near to no simpathy towards Revolutionaries. I will gladly accept any call for games of any kind.
You lie in wait for days, bringing food from your home and sleeping only for the necessary time. After a week of this you start to think that the figure you saw has told his collaborators that this place isn’t safe anymore. After another week you are sure of this.
It’s when you start to pack your things that something happens. A dark figure appears in the plaza. It looks different from the one you saw last time but you’re not sure. It’s difficult to understand and actually, it’s difficult to even see it. The only hint of its presence is a dark silouette darker than the darkness surrounding you. A smile creeps up your face as you soundlessly walk towards it. The shadowy figure keeps walking like it hasn’t seen you. Or maybe it has? Maybe it’s just pretending it hasn’t noticed you.
It’s when you’re thinking this that something strange happens, and that’s all that needs to be said considering London as a city. The figure reaches a stone stair, walks a few steps up and… starts to walk trough the stone, descending inside it. And then it’s no longer there. You bat your eyes in confusion and walk towards the stair. You knock on the stone, thinking there’s a secret passage under it. But the sound you hear is solid, so that’s not an option. Then you see something. A piece of paper. You take it and read it. "You’ll have to walk in pair with the darkness. And you’ll need candles, lots of them."
So it did notice you.
Hello everyone, here’s the next part of my story. I hope you’ll like it. And, as I said the last time, all feedback will be read and taken into consideration with great happiness.
[color=rgb(194, 194, 194)]Zodiac36gold, a sagacious shadow. I player of chess with the ambition of winning 100 games. A supporter of the Masters with near to no simpathy towards Revolutionaries. I will gladly accept any call for games of any kind.[/color]