The Case of the Fidgeting Writer
This story can be advanced by clicking on certain items in your inventory, start by clicking on a Tale of Terror and selecting the option There's something familiar about this tale… Click on Sense of Déjà Vu to bring up the first options.
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Tale of Terror!!
The blood freezes! The neck-hairs rise! The spine crackles with fear! The audience is spellbound!!
sells for 50 pence
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There's something familiar about this tale…
'The Mottled Man?' That's a familiar phrase… [This may give you a Sense of Déjà Vu, beginning a story of chance and madness.]
A matter of luck: pretty good odds.
Unlocked with 1 x Tale of Terror!!
A slim, cheaply-produced volume
It's the work of a Fidgeting Writer whose clear talent never translated into success. His works are too unnerving to be widely received, conjuring the crawling sensation of being watched.
But something about it is familiar, like an itch on the inside of your skull. This poem in particular, in which the protagonist is scrutinised by bestial giants.
[Use a Sense of Déjà Vu in your inventory to investigate further.]
You were fortunate!
You've gained 1 x
Sense of Déjà Vu
You've lost 1 x
Tale of Terror!!
This is driving you to distraction!
There's something about this poem-cycle and its convoluted stanzas about gulfs of time and predatory eyes that's d—nably familiar. But you just can't place it!
In the end, frustration wins and you hurl the book from the window. 'Ow!' someone says. You're unconcerned. The book was too slight to do lasting harm, and they're welcome to it.
You were unlucky. Better luck next time…
You've lost 1 x
Tale of Terror!!
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Using your A Sense of Déjà Vu
A Sense of Déjà Vu
You're sure you've heard about the Mottled Man before… [click on this in your inventory to begin the case of the Fidgeting Writer]. You can create one of these by using a Tale of Terror!! in your inventory.
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A Sense of Déjà Vu
What is it about this poem that's so familiar? The uncanny turn of phrase? The unsettling phantasmagoria? The appearance of a mottled giant and his companions?
Put the thought aside
You've more important matters to deal with. This will trade a Sense of Déjà Vu for an Extraordinary Implication.
[Unlocked with 1 x Sense of Déjà Vu]
The world needs a mystery or two to make it tolerable
You give the little book away.
That night you dream of giants. Their gaze presses down on you like a desert noon. One speaks. Its hands are writhing serpents. Its voice rumbles with the weight of centuries. You wake, speaking a language you've never heard.
Lose: 1 x
Sense of Déjà Vu
Gain: 1 x
Extraordinary Implication
Nightmares increase
Touched by Fingerwork increase
Track down the Fidgeting Writer
He doesn't answer your invitation to meet at the Singing Mandrake. Is he avoiding you? If you fail, you'll lose your Sense of Déjà Vu
A matter of luck: pretty good odds.
[Unlocked with 1 x Sense of Déjà Vu]
[Unlocked with Watchful 60]
[Unlocked with 1 x Vision of the Surface]
You make clear you're paying and his reluctance disappears
His eyes are shot with red, his hair unruly. You note first the ragged sleeves and hunger of artistic integrity, then the sweet reek of stale honey.
He tells you about the dreams that inspire his work and how their skies are filled with giants: the Mottled Man, the Serpent-Handed, the Red Bird. You've heard those names before! A long time ago, before your descent. The work of an anonymous surface-poet. Curiously, you came across a copy of it just recently, and bought it for your collection.
Use a Glimpse of Something Larger in your inventory to investigate the surface-poem.
Lose: 1 x
Vision of the Surface
Lose: 1 x
Sense of Déjà Vu
Gain: 1 x
Glimpse of Something Larger
Touched by Fingerwork increase
(5 change points)
A week too late
A Soft-Hearted Widow shows you the leaky garret he used to rent. The worst holes are plugged with discarded poem-fragments, the words ruined by the rain. Honey-scent clings to the rafters.
'I do miss him,' she sobs. 'It was an accident. I'm sure it was an accident. When he wrote I wouldn't see him for days on end - I thought he was at his work. I didn't know he…' she can't continue.
Lose: 1 x
Sense of Déjà Vu
Lose: 1 x
Vision of the Surface
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Using your Glimpse of Something Larger
Glimpse of Something Larger
The Mottled Man, the Jade Bird - you're on the edge of a deep mystery, here… [click on this in your inventory to delve deeper]
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A Glimpse of Something Larger
A Fidgeting Writer and an anonymous Surface poet have written - years apart! - about watchful giants: a mottled man, a bird of cinnabar, another with snakes instead of hands. You've a copy of the surface poem in your collection - it's signed with a strange ideogram…
Publish a paper on the subject and think no more about it
It's a minor curiosity. Let someone else pursue it. [This will trade a Glimpse of Something Larger for for two volumes of Collated Research.]
Unlocked with 1 x Glimpse of Something Larger
Again and again
Once you start looking you find the same motifs again and again. The same monstrous giants, always subjecting the writer to intense scrutiny. Always the work of young, little-known writers who never achieved success.
Joke? Hoax? Prototypical myth? A shared artefact of the human psyche? You build a compelling case. Your paper causes a flurry of interest in academic circles. Other scholars take up the torch, only with more words and less insight.
You've lost 1 x
Glimpse of Something Larger
You've gained 2 x
Collated Research
Approaching the Gates of the Garden increase
(5 change points)
Cancel your appointments and investigate the ideogram
There's something familiar about that, too… [If you fail, you'll lose your Glimpse of Something Larger.]
A matter of luck: pretty good odds.
Unlocked with 1 x Glimpse of Something Larger, Watchful 70, 2 x Correspondence Plaque
Going deeper
It's a clumsy combination of two Correspondence signs: 'a day that lasts a thousand years' and 'a generous gift of murder'. Your investigation shifts to the surface poet - who was he? How did he learn the Correspondence? You find uses of the ideogram by others, all writing similar phantasmagoria. Soon you are awash with it. '…watch'd by eyes big as worlds…' '…the mottled man roars; the heav'ns crack…' '…the monkeys howl, the monkeys burn; their pens scratch words of red and black…'
You're so sunk in your work that an invitation sits unopened on your desk for several days before the brass glint of the seal catches your eye.
You were fortunate!
1 x
Deal with a Devil
You've lost 1 x
Glimpse of Something Larger
You've lost 2 x
Correspondence Plaque
Seeing through the Eyes of Icarus increase
[5 cp]
The perils of academia
The ideogram has the density of certain Mexican picture-scripts, but you can't find an example of it. You scour half the alphabets on Earth before convincing yourself the Correspondence is the answer. Unfortunately, Correspondence study has particular perils. During a vigorous research session your hair ignites into lilac flame. You save your head, but lose your notes in the fire.
You were unlucky. Better luck next time…
You've lost 1 x
Glimpse of Something Larger
You've lost 2 x
Correspondence Plaque
Making Waves increase
[2 cp]
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Using your Deal with a Devil
Deal with a Devil
You've received an invitation to the Brass Embassy [click on this in your inventory to attend.]
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A Deal with a Devil
In the Phlegethon Suite, blue flames simmer in brass lamps. The Infernal Sommelier pours you a glass of boisterous red. He has just offered you the gratitude of Hell if you'll ask no more questions and turn over your research into the case of the Fidgeting Writer. 'Well?' he asks.
Tell him all you know and abandon your research
The offer is generous, and if the Brass Embassy is tangled up in this it's going to be more trouble than it's worth. [This will trade a Deal with a Devil for a Brass Ring.]
Unlocked with 1 x Deal with a Devil
Important work
He pulls a ring from his own finger and hands it to you. 'A token of our agreement. It's an heirloom - it dates to the Third Malebolgean Era. It was intended for a mortal queen, so it hardly burns at all.'
As you leave, he catches your arm. 'Whatever others may say of the work we do here, it is just and it is important. Today you have been a part of that.'
You've lost 1 x
Deal with a Devil
You've gained 1 x
Brass Ring
Hellfarer increase
Make a counter-offer.
All at the Embassy have appetites, and you've heard about his. Try and pry what he knows out of him. [If you fail you'll lose your Deal with a Devil.]
A matter of luck: pretty good odds.
Unlocked with 1 x Deal with a Devil, Watchful 80, 2 x Brilliant Soul
A lesson in temptation
The two souls coil so tightly it's impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. You set the bottle on the table. The Sommelier seems to have forgotten how to blink.
You ask what interest Hell has in the Fidgeting Writer. 'None,' he tells you. 'Others are interested in him, and we are interested in them. We will have our due, whatever promises the Masters made.' He writes down a room number at the Royal Beth. 'If you want to know what's in store for your friend, go there.'
You leave the soul of the conjoined twins on the table. His fingers are prying the stopper off before you've even closed the door.
You were fortunate!
You've lost 1 x
Deal with a Devil
You gain 1 x
Room Number at the Royal Beth
You've lost 2 x
Brilliant Soul
All too common
You place two fine bottled souls before him. He decants, breathes. 'Ah. Two souls - perfect for each other, and they never met. Charming. But not as rare as you might assume.' His tongue isn't loosened. He reveals nothing more. What's worse, you return to your lodgings to find they've been crudely ransacked, and your research taken.
Devils.
You were unlucky. Better luck next time…
You've lost 1 x
Deal with a Devil
You've lost 2 x
Brilliant Soul
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Using your Room Number at the Royal Beth
Room Number at the Royal Beth
Who stays there? How are they connected with the fate of the Fidgeting Writer? [Click on this in your inventory to pay them a visit]
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A Room Number at the Royal Beth
A sign hangs in the corridor outside. 'No knives. No pens.' The room's inhabitant has been there a long time, dosed with a dilution of laudanum. 'I know secrets!' He hisses through the keyhole. 'Secrets of the past! The Mottled Man and his bishop-kings!'
Give him honey and a pen
Somehow, he knows things lost to history. Forget the Fidgeting Writer's case. Wring the most valuable secrets from him. This will trade a Room Number at the Royal Beth for two Antique Mysteries.
[Unlocked with 1 x Drop of Prisoner's Honey]
[Unlocked with 1 x Room Number at the Royal Beth]
How does he know these things?
Is the honey a door, allowing him to step back through centuries? Where - and when - does he go? Each time he returns, he howls like a monkey and the secrets pour from his pen. Your challenge is fitting it all together: a city of high stone - the Third City?…knives and lenses of black glass…bishop-kings and their blood-sacrament…a bargain…a well.
One day he doesn't return from the honey-dream. Was that an escape? You leave, quietly.
Lose: 1 x
Room Number at the Royal Beth
Gain: 2 x
Antique Mystery
Lose: 1 x
Drop of Prisoner's Honey
Walking the Falling Cities increase
Visit him regularly and ask the Manager about his stay
Try to find out what connects him to the Fidgeting Writer's Case. If you fail you'll lose your Room Number at the Royal Beth.
A matter of luck: it could go either way.
[Unlocked with 1 x Room Number at the Royal Beth]
[Unlocked with Watchful 90]
[Unlocked with 1 x An Identity Uncovered!]
'Like the surface of the moon…'
You spend most of your visits in companionable silence, until one day he speaks about the dreams. 'At first they watch, then they lean close - like the surface of the moon! - and begin to eat. They start with your fingers, then suck on your heart. They eat and eat, every bit of you until there's nothing left but them.'
The Manager informs you that his is not an unusual affliction. Its sufferers' condition worsen as long as they are allowed to write about their dreams. Only isolation from their art and a steady regime of laudanum can halt its progress.
It's on one of your visits that you spot a familiar face in the street outside…
Lose: 1 x
Room Number at the Royal Beth
Gain: 1 x
Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
Lose: 1 x
An Identity Uncovered!
Touched by Fingerwork increase
The room next door
You visit regularly, but the laudanum keeps the room's resident dulled and silent. The Manager seems reluctant to discuss his stay, saying only 'Mr. Veils provides a generous endowment to care for the poor souls who suffer from this affliction.'
Then one day, you see someone being shown into the room next door. You recognise the ragged sleeves and red-shot eyes. Your Fidgeting Writer. He looks at you, his eyes glazed with laudanum, and there isn't even a flicker of recognition. It's too late to help him now.
Lose: 1 x
Room Number at the Royal Beth
Lose: 1 x
An Identity Uncovered!
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Using your Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
You hardly recognise him, now. He begs you for help. [Click on this in your inventory to listen to him.]
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The Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
'I daren't sleep!' he tells you, clutching at your arm. 'They eat me! They eat me when I sleep!'
Burn his works. Break his pen. Escort him to the Royal Beth
It's his only hope. This will trade the Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer for a Night-Whisper.
[Unlocked with 1 x Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer]
Not the last
'Another one for the Veils Wing,' the manager of the Royal Beth says, solemnly. A dead-eyed receptionist takes the writer to a small, comfortable room and administers his first dose of laudanum.
As you leave, he calls to you. 'I'm not the first. Not the last. How many others have they eaten? Their appetites are measured in centuries!' His cry agitates the other residents of the corridor. You can hear them behind every door: 'the Mottled Man roars; the heav'ns crack!' '…the serpent's tongue caressed my eye…' 'Give me a pen! Let them have me!'
You still hear them, in the night.
Lose: 1 x
Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
Gain: 1 x Night-Whisper
Nightmares increase
Touched by Fingerwork increase
Make him dream and see what he sees
You have to know. You know an old honey-secret that should ensure you share his dream. If you fail you'll lose the Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer.
A matter of luck: it could go either way.
[Unlocked with 1 x Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer]
[Unlocked with Watchful 100]
[Unlocked with 1 x Extraordinary Implication]
Through a glass, darkly
They fill the sky, distorting horribly at the horizon. The man with cat's teeth and mottled skin. The one whose hands are serpents. The bird whose red feathers whisper like a crowd of murderers. The snakes hiss; cool rain falls on your face. You scream so hard something in your throat tears.
As sense returns, you try to impose reason on the nightmare. Those things: the size, the closeness, the distortion. As if you were seeing them through a lens. And the red bird's feathers - they were beads of cinnabar, common relics of the Third City.
You contact an expert in Third City archaeology at the University. Excited, he invites you to their private museum, and shows you a lens of black glass. Its label reads: 'One of the Chalmsley Lenses. Ritual significance.' That's archaeologist for 'We have no idea.'
Lose: 1 x
Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
Gain: 1 x
Lens of Black Glass
Wounds increase
Nightmares increase
Lose: 1 x
Extraordinary Implication
Walking the Falling Cities increase
The last bite
You dream of giants as big as the sky. Your mind can only contain fragments of them: feathers of cinnabar, mottled skin, coiling serpents. They ignore you, and instead one stoops low and devours the Fidgeting Poet. His screams are piercing, but brief.
When you wake, he's gone. Your inquiries uncover only one more sighting of him. He was at Wolfstack Docks later that night, speaking a language no-one had ever heard. He boarded a ship for the Tomb-Colonies. But the Tomb-Colonists say he never arrived.
Lose: 1 x
Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
Lose: 1 x
Mystery of the Elder Continent
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Using your Lens of Black Glass
Lens of Black Glass
Crowded with faded Correspondence. You have a powerful conviction that someone is watching you. [Click on this in your inventory to investigate.]
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The Last Hope of a Fidgeting Writer
'I daren't sleep!' he tells you, clutching at your arm. 'They eat me! They eat me when I sleep!'
A Lens of Black Glass
The lens dates to the Third City. Its surface is crowded with faded Correspondence sigils. It makes the Fidgeting Writer uneasy, but he's determined to see this through.
Smash it
Enough delving. Enough dabbling. [This will trade a Lens of Black Glass for a Searing Enigma, a Primaeval Hint, a Bazaar Permit, and a Comprehensive Bribe.]
Unlocked with 1 x Lens of Black Glass
The University won't be happy
It shatters, and you hear you hear the giants scream across eight hundred years. The Fidgeting Writer collapses. When he recovers, he's different. He rarely dreams of giants, now. He takes a job in a tallow factory and never lifts a pen again. It's no worse than many lives.
Some time later you receive a delivery. The card reads, 'With the gratitude of Mr. Veils'. Inside are certain privileges as regards the Bazaar and enough cash to make the Traitor Empress give you a quick go on the throne.
You now have 1 x
Comprehensive bribe
You now have 1 x
Bazaar permit
You now have 1 x
Searing Enigma
You now have 1 x
Primaeval hint
You've lost 1 x
Lens of Black Glass
Look through the Lens
You must know the truth. You'll need the right sort of light. [If you fail you'll lose your Lens of Black Glass.]
A matter of luck: it could go either way.
Unlocked with Watchful 120, 1 x Lens of Black Glass, 1 x Mourning Candle.
You hold the gloomy candle up to the glass
You see a bare cave. People huddle on the other side of the lens. Their regalia is archaic: the skin of a spotted cat, a beaked head-dress of red beads, a serpent-headed staff. They're tattooed and emaciated, clearly starving.
One of them lunges for the lens. The Fidgeting Writer screams, hurling the glass away. Something like a wind of colour pushes through, and you snatch a bottle from a nearby display. You shield your eyes, hear a body hit the floor, feel the bottle grow so heavy it thuds to the ground - the lens shatters! All is still.
The Writer fidgets no more. He died of fright, you think. Is that his soul you caught in the bottle? Something else? Whatever it is, it's so heavy you have to send for a gang of clay men and a cart to carry it away. The affair is ended, but you know others are still there behind the glass, reaching out through dreams.
You were fortunate!
You now have 1 x
Coruscating Soul
You've lost 1 x
Lens of Black Glass
You've lost 1 x
Mourning Candle
Not this time
They're there, waiting for you. A hand reaches out through the glass. An old mountain wind blows the candle out. The Writer screams. Something pushes through the lens, crushing you, and everything goes black.
When you come to, the Fidgeting Writer has gone. So has the lens. You search the city. He was sighted again at the docks, speaking a language no-one had ever heard and laughing as if all the world were a joke. His trail ends on the shores of the dark Unterzee.
Now you know what to look for, it's not long before you begin to hear of other young writers dreaming of giants.
You've lost 1 x
Lens of Black Glass
You've lost 1 x
Mourning Candle
