Descend into Fallen London

Fallen London

Three decades ago, London was stolen by bats. Dragged deep into the earth by the Echo Bazaar. The sun is gone. All we have is the gas-light of Mr Fires. But Londoners can get used to anything. And it's quiet down here with the devils and the darkness and the mushroom wine. Peaceful.

But then YOU arrived.

marshasisolak's Mantelpiece

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marshasisolak's Scrapbook

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marshasisolak's Journal

" *shakes some actions right out of their little box* Me? No, I'm not addicted. Not a bit."

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" After all, you wouldn't be daft enough to engage in the unlicensed soul trade. Riiiiiiiiiiight."

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" Jack-of-Smiles is still dangerous. (But I want my action refresh anyway.)"

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" Never mention the Second City to the Masters of the Bazaar. "

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" ...and if you decode its complicated patterns you inevitably decide you're God, to the considerable "

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" The neddy men are the Masters' private enforcers, a shambolic freelance army of cudgel-waving thu..."

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" The Square of Lofty Words is always worth a visit. Go and throw some bread to the philosophers."

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" The Starveling Cat! The Starveling Cat! Wraps round your throat like a cheap cravat!"

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