Day 12: Mr Sacks, at its limits

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You step outside the back door […] And there at the back, a crimson blotch lies on the ground. […] Melting lacre drips from the fur trim of the hood. The face within is a blurred, unreadable horror. "My dear...please..." it whispers.

[Find the rest of the story at https://www.fallenlondon.com]

Unlocked with Experiencing Strange Times: Twelve Days of Mr Sacks exactly 11, Days of Mr Sacks is 12-37 (World Quality, now locked)

Options:

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Assist the wreck of Sacks

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Take advantage of the situation

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Send your Rubbery Friend to help

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Now this is what you've been waiting for

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Allow your devilish associates to take care of this

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Approach with the Perennial Scholar