Echo Bazaar/Quotes
Fallen London
The Flit
Rob the Bazaar |
Mrs Plenty's Most Distracting Carnival
"Pay for tickets to the carnival? Oh ho! How droll you are. The very idea!" |
Places of Menace
A slow boat passing a dark beach on a silent river
[Dying feels] like going to sleep. If going to sleep really hurt. |
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A moment of pettiness |
Characters
The Duchess
"In the deepest matters of the Bazaar, always look to love. Always." |
The Relickers
The Shivering Relicker: Don't let [the Night-Whisper] near the Co... the language of Xanadu. Keep it away from the Bazaar spires, and the ruins of previous cities. Altogether too dangerous to take it there. It will talk back. You understand? It will talk back. |
Ambitions
Light Fingers
You've moved to a new area: A small, velvet lined box. You can't see anything. You have just enough space to twist onto your belly or your back. Oh dear God. Oh dear God. |
Stories
Recalling A Dream of Other Places
A dream of a vineyard |
On the Velocipede Squad
Someone has been robbing drunks. Actually, someone is always robbing drunks. But the last drunk was the Chief Constable's aunt. |
Recurring Dreams
Recurring Dreams: The Fire Sermon
You dream that you're flinging books happily on to the Stolen River, the one they used to call the Thames. The river is on fire! Flames leap higher than the houses on either side. Every time you throw another book on, there is a flare of coloured light, like a firework, and a puff of sweet-scented smoke. You look down and realise with horror that you've run out of books: you are flinging your clothes on to the fire. When your clothes are gone, you begin peeling off skin and throwing that. You wake before it goes very much further. |
Recurring Dreams: Death By Water
A dream about your home |
Recurring Dreams: What the Thunder Said
The eye of the storm |
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I will dive into the water! |
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I have reached the thunder! |
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I bid the wind speak |
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Ask a question |
Dreaming Strange Dreams: A Game Of Chess
You can go anywhere. You use secret passages to enter the rooms of your enemies, vulnerable in their sleep. You climb dark staircases and cross vast, silent halls. [...] You can do anything. Anything except scrub this gore from your hands. |
Seeking Mr Eaten's Name
A voice heard in a dream |
Clay Man Stories
"IN POLYTHREME THE BED I SLEPT ON WAS A SLAVE. THE ROOM WHERE I SLEPT WAS HACKED FROM SCREAMING STONE. THE WATER I DRANK BEGGED ME TO STOP. THEY PAID ME IN COIN THAT PLOTTED MY DOWNFALL. THE MEMORIES ARE TROUBLING. THIS PLACE IS BETTER." |
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"I TIRE OF CARRYING BOXES." |
Flavour Text
Enough of these, and you'll know the secrets of earth and sea. |
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Mysteries are fire. Truth burns. |
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Whose soul was this? A queen? A genius? A prophet? It's like looking into the face of the sun. |
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A really good look at that which men should never learn. |
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Even you have a hard time taking yourself seriously in this extraordinary creation. |
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You can't go wrong with an iron hat. Except that you look ridiculous. That's a problem, certainly. |
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Like wearing a live wolf. |
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What were you doing again? |
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"We shall complete you! You will delight in wearing us!" |
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"...what I had to go through to create this..." |
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You never, ever want to put this hat on your head. |
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What could mark a soul? |
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Were your eyes always such a dark grey? Did you hear what the Thunder said? |
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You have observed, stolen, followed, decrypted and occasionally murdered. |
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You stole that which cannot be stolen. |
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Why? In God's name, why? Stop now. Before it's too late. |
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What...what did that place do to you? |
Miscellaneous
The Starveling Cat has moved into your lodgings. May God have mercy on our souls. |
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Something terrible has happened. Perhaps a server has caught fire, or a database flared and guttered like a dying star. |