User:Welliss/Sandbox/Moseying Tables

A Mosey through Pilgrim's Dawn

Storylet Description

You have the run of the city, now, and though you are no citizen, there are still ways to put this familiarity to use. Pilgrim's Dawn has a name in London, but its arcane traditions and opinionated populace act as a barrier for true tourism. With you at their side, perhaps it could be easier.

All you must decide is who to take.

Option	Text
Go alone	Perhaps you don't want to shepherd a bunch of gormless fools around.
A group of prospective citizens	They have had enough of London, and have heard Pilgrim's Dawn is heaven for the downtrodden. Comparatively.
A gaggle of society sightseers	Pilgrim's Dawn has a romantic image in London. And it's only a train-ride away.
A seminar on Hinterland policing	There is Law here, but how it is enforced differs greatly from in London. Perhaps you can help open constabulary eyes.
A Benthic study into western religion	Situated close to St Tympanus' as it is, Pilgrim's Dawn has become a melting pot of Neathy theology.
A heiratic field trip	The Bishop of Southwark claims that this excursion is to check up on St Tympanus'. You have other suspicions.
Followers of the pipe and of the mandolin	There is a Grand Devil lurking beneath Pilgrim's Dawn. These devils (they say) wish to pay their respects.
A Terpsichorean troupe	There is no better place to practice the Rose Giveth.
A crew with dramatically extended shore leave	They wish to be as far west as possible, while maintaining grip on their souls.
Agents of the Bazaar	You could join them on their regular march to the Burrow Church. They won't thank you for it, though.
The Brazen Brigade	Pilgrim's Dawn is more amenable to the Bazaar's influence than one might expect for a tracklayer city. There is profit to be made here.

Success Description

Option	Text
Go alone	Conversation Alone, you find yourself on the outskirts of the city. Alone, you feel the hinterland's cold, damp breeze prick your skin. Alone, you gaze at the city on the hill: dwarfing you and yet dwarfed by the dark, consuming void of the Neath. You shake off this strange feeling of scale, and set off.
A group of prospective citizens	Hopefuls While none of this group were tracklayers specifically, they all have the same experience of hard work for meagre pay, and of watchubng the fruits of their labour shipped off to homes that would never let them dirty their fine carpets. The air of hesitant optimism is palpable.
A gaggle of society sightseers	Compromise Pilgrim's Dawn is not so exotic as the Elder Continent, and not so accessible as Parabola. As it is, it inhabits a niche for those who want to pursue new experiences but don't want to stray too far from home.
A seminar on Hinterland policing	Punishment The Constables grumble as their superior dumps them into your care. "Make sure they get something out of it," he says, before hopping back on the train. You catch a couple of them fiddling with their truncheons and confiscate them.
A Benthic study into western religion	Practical The atmosphere among the students is electric with excitement. Most of their research is in dull old tomes and dull new papers – hands on field work is a novelty that they don't plan to waste.
A heiratic field trip	An excuse "Right!" the Bishop cries, clapping his hands together. "This way, is it?" He marches off towards the city at a pace you (and more noticably the other clergymen) have trouble keeping up with.
Followers of the pipe and of the mandolin	Infernal politics Pilgrim's Dawn is very hesitant to welcome Hellish visitors – though it does not make the mistake of conflating "Hellish" and "infernal". This information delights your guests, who offer some choice words about Hell.
A Terpsichorean troupe	Receptive Already the smallest, rhythmic pulse can be felt below the earth. Your Terpsichorean troupe, you notice, only blink on the beat. When you set off, their steps match it too.
A crew with dramatically extended shore leave	A tight-knit group These zailors are obviously part of the same crew; you can see it in their muted camaraderie and in the distrustful expressions they reserve for you and others outside their group. Your shared acquaintance lessens their anxiety a little.
Agents of the Bazaar	Adventure capital The group you meet is composed of surveyors, economists and other such colourful individuals. They do not pause their hushed discussions of figures and risks when they meet you, though one of them offers you a handshake without meeting your eye.
The Brazen Brigade	Holy work The Brigade appears on the horizon, uniforms and arms glinting in the moonish light. Soon they're close by and you feel bright eyes on you as you slip in behind them. Though, nobody stops you.

The Fields of Pilgrim's Dawn

Storylet Description

Pilgrim's Dawn spills off its hill and into the Hinterland beyond. Pursuits that require more space must move out here: farming and ranching, mostly, though there are a few disparate fields for sports and the occasional tentative mining operation. And the train tracks, of course.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Being here alone, without the babble of a crowd, you can really take in the deep silence of the Hinterland.
Prospective Citizens	The prospective citizens gaze on the city from afar: the first sight of their could-be home.
Society Sightseers	The sightseers giggle and groan and hike up their skirts from the mud. Not many of them have been this far from cobbled ground before.
Constable Seminar	The constables stand together in an almost regimented fashion. They look very uncomfortable to be out of London.
Benthic Researchers	A few of the students take soil samples or record the false-constellations far above. Most chat and kick their feet, the religion of the city far from these airy wastes.
Clerical Field Trip	It's not uncommon for a priest to keep a personal garden, or some plot of land outside the city. Still, none of them seem quite comfortable to be here in the dry muck of the Hinterland.
Infernal Hagiocrats	Many of these devils are Hell's exiles; they keep stealing glances westwards, though the crumbling walls of the White City are too far off to be seen.
Terpsichorean Troupe	The Terpsichoreans move with rhythm, as ever. One slips in the mud and loses the beat; this draws a sneer or two from the rest of the group.
Shattered Zailors	Being this far from the Zee seems to bring the crew great comfort. Some still sway a little on the muddy ground.
Bazaarine Agents	From the very first glimpse of the city, the agents are watching it with assayer's eyes. The farmers, their efforts tabulated into arcane and unreadable data. The coming and going of the trains, their crowdedness, their speed. The image of the city, broken down into its base aesthetic elements.
The Brazen Brigade	The march begins near Hell, but you only join it when it approaches the city's walls. The rhythm of their steps is unpredictable but perfectly synchronous; you know, somehow, that it matches the beat of the Drummer, far off and inaudable as it is.

Put in small (but non-trivial) field work

Description

Technically, only full-time residents are required to labour for the city. But perhaps you feel like helping out.

Success Description

Root vegetables

The electric light is not powerful enough to support the growth of light-intensive plants. But still, the citizens make do – mushrooms, of course, but also carrots, potatoes, rhubarb. The work is tough but necessary, and the farmers and their peers understand it; this is a noble profession.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	The citizens offer you some fertiliser as thanks. Too much gets imported, they say; the ranches produce plenty and what they need is more light.
Prospective Citizens	One prospective citizen ventures to ask if she could sample the produce. The farmers (prone to charity as their profession requires) agree, and soon the whole group is munching on some root vegetable or another. Something in the earthy tones feels solid, they say, feels right.
Constable Seminar	These are inner-city constables, and they are unused to this brand of hardship. But they are familiar with digging and they are well-muscled enough to help, though you're sure many of them aren't giving it their all.
Clerical Field Trip	The Bishop of Southwark yanks a shovel from a citizen's hand and takes to the task with gusto. "Hop to it!" he cries. "There's no better exercise than that which the Lord provides!"
Terpsichorean Troupe	Can the act of farming be dance? The more ideologically-minded Terpsichoreans say yes, and begin the work with with rhythm and purpose. By the end of the effort the work is done with no leaves charred, which leaves the farmers thankful and the dancers disappointed.
The Brazen Brigade	The way the pilgrimage takes you cuts through a few fields, drawing a clean line of packed earth where no crops have been planted. "Take the same route every time," a farmer says, "so we ended up just workin' around it."

Failure Description

Now you're covered in nightsoil

There can't be that much technique to this, can there? As it turns out there rather is, as you learn by falling off-balance wrestling a mandrake and tumbling onto the soil. Perhaps it's best if you leave the experts to it.

Make way for a cohort of cartographical illuminators

Description

They chart and illuminate the wastes around Pilgrim's Dawn. Look, here come some now.

Success Description

Lamplighters

You see them a long way off, though as specks of light more than individuals. Closer they clarify, though there's nothing surprising to see. The squad is a dozen or so illuminators, riding slick steeds at a canter and leanly packed with light-bulbs, wire and cartographical equipment. Each one of these excursions is roughly the same, chipping some small foothold of light into the oppressive darkness of the Hinterland.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Their direction tells you a little of the city's nascent cartography: their equipment a little more. This time they carry pouches of shredded bone – for placating goat-demons in that direction, perhaps?
Society Sightseers	An illuminator salutes your group from atop her horse, and a couple of your number swoon. "To bring light to far off lands... How romantic," one says, "how thrilling!"
Benthic Researchers	The students spy iconography on the illuminators: pendants which evoke the sun, or Salt, or the Light-in-Exile. Predictably illuminarory deities, but worth noting nonetheless.
Infernal Hagiocrats	The devils roll their eyes at the excursion, but one hagiocrat chastises them. "The Chandler was martyred for love of light," they say. "We must not resent these little creates that they have the same."
Shattered Zailors	When the zailors see the illuminators, they stand a little straighter and puff out their chests. The illuminators, too, fall a little closer into rank. There is a commonality between the groups, and the zailors are quicker to let it breed rivalry than companionship.
The Brazen Brigade	The illuminators drop their horses to a respectful walk as they pass by the slow march of the Brigade. Some salute – a couple even bow – before the cohort takes off again into the black wastes.

Failure Description

Bedazzled

The city outskirts are no match for the luminosity of its centre – and here is that luminosity made manifest, dazzling you and passing by. You're left blinking away afterimages.

Take in the view of the city from below

Description

The walls are not prominent, but perhaps they interest you – carved sigils dot them at regular intervals.

Success Description

A discursive bulwark

The walls are squat compared to the rising mass of the city – designed more to keep animals and trespassers out, rather than to protect against any kind of siege. Every so often, you come across a new Correspondence sigil.

ASotC	Last Sentence
0-6	You can't tell their meanings, but they are inscribed deep into the brick with a steady hand: no mere graffiti.
7-13	They seem to be expanding the wall's influence in some way; the sigils suggest protection, preservation, constancy.
14-20	The preservation of a people, one reads; another, an unchanging border.
21	The preservation of a people, one reads. Equivalently, the prevention of contaminants, or to keep the mind without doubt.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	If you strain your eyes, you can see the Roof above slightly better than you can from London; the city is a beacon in the most literal sense. As you watch, a small airship emerges from behind the city, rising steadily in the lack of wind.
Prospective Citizens	The prospective citizens do not trouble themselves overmuch with the Correspondence. Instead they gaze at the city above: its spiralling streets, its tall houses, its light.
Constable Seminar	The Constables catch sight of figures atop the walls. Ne'er do wells? Criminals? Revolutionaries? There's an uncomfortable moment after the last suggestion – here, unrevolutionary thought is suspicious. And besides, it's just the regular watchmen up there.
Clerical Field Trip	The Bishop of Southwark examines the walls. "Not going to be much use against infernal invasion, are they?" he mutters. "Unless those pagan runes are meant to be some help."
Terpsichorean Troupe	There's not a member of this group without some understanding of the Correspondence, and together they put together the intent of the wall-sigils: to keep Liberationists far from the city.
The Brazen Brigade	The Brigade's few percussionists begin playing their instruments, beats wrapping around and complimenting the one from beneath the earth. From beyond the wall, cheers can be faintly heard.

Failure Description

An effective defence

The Correspondence is difficult to read at the best of times, let alone when accompanied by a thousand other streams of light with their own message and love and law. You come away with singed hair and a lesson in humility.

The Streets of Pilgrim's Dawn

Storylet Description

Coming in from the dull stillness of the Hinterland, the experience of being in Pilgrim's Dawn is overwhelming. The chatter, the beat of the Drummer, the bright electric lights. Citizens stepping and whirling every which way, all interlocking in their perfect machinery of which you are not, quite, a part.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	As a singular body, you are at the whims of the crowd. They corral you to and fro like a loose pebble in a grand, clockwork synchrony.
Prospective Citizens	The city proper provides endless intrigue for its prospective inhabitants. Every tall facade, every street sign, the cobbles, the dancers, the pigeons. This may be their life, and it seems to appeal.
Society Sightseers	The sightseers look to you for guidance. They're less confident than they were when the city was an abstract, and while they're not fearful, they crowd a little closer around you.
Constable Seminar	The constables seem set to fight the citizen's sychronity with their own. Their gait is regimented and steady, and the dancers flow and test their ranks like flame licking stone.
Benthic Researchers	Every citizen wears at least one ring, broach or pendant. Iconography is rife on their whirling figures – but is snatched away before the students can glean any data.
Clerical Field Trip	The churchgoers shoot occasional hesitant looks towards St Tympanus' in the distance. It looms from its hill, even though its height pales compared to that of the city.
Infernal Hagiocrats	The city's buildings are accented with brass and its air is redolent with roses. Some devils mutter and grimace; some sigh; some smirk. Most smirk, really.
Terpsichorean Troupe	The Terpsichore learnt by its London practitioners is variable, accent and dialect colouring the movements. Not so here; every citizen dances with the same voice, achieving a unison envied by your group.
Shattered Zailors	The zailors who so recently conquered their zee-legs are buffeted on all sides by blurred figures. They fall back into the inebrious stumbles of the newly-grounded, which surprisingly serves them better in the ever-shifting crowd.
Bazaarine Agents	The agents purse their lips at the whirling figures. Can dance be sold? Not this dance, certainly.
The Brazen Brigade	Citizens fall away from the Brigade, letting their slow procession bisect the curving streets. Another group would be assailed with pirouettes on all sides, but the Brigade are left to their grave task.

Join the all-consuming dance

Description

It is hard to avoid: compelling, magnetic, enrapturing.

Success Description

Infectious

Just as the dance is easy to fall into, it is difficult to maintain. Part of the point is this disparity – the pleasure and the pain; the wanting and the earning. Most citizens can straddle the line: keep to the beat and the pulse of the city without, if they don't wish to, falling into true dance. You are not quite so experienced.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	To submit to the beat weighs down your speed in obligation and intricacy. If your priority was expediency, it would be faster to force yourself out of the meter and push your way through the crowds.
Prospective Citizens	The prospective citizens are not sure-footed – Pilgrim’s Dawn attracts dancers as tourists, not as permanent residents. Still, the beat is infectious and the citizens welcoming. Soon they all are dancing, sincerity and effort making up for the grace that they lack.
Constable Seminar	The constables have their own rhythm. They stick together and stubbornly resist the city's beat. Though— one of their number is missing, fragmented off from the whole. When you find him, your gaze slides off of him at first – isolated from the rest, he's more than capable matching the rhythm of the citizenry.
Clerical Field Trip	When you encourage your religious entourage to join you in the dance, they prevaricate. They um and ah and well actually and couldn’t possibly. But one young deacon relents, lets the dance grasp his limbs and – as his resistance wanes – begin to drag him from the priests and whirl him through the crowd. Within a few minutes a number more of the clergy are dancing – some under the pretence of retrieving the deacon, some more truthful with themselves. The rest tut unapprovingly.
Terpsichorean Troupe	This is the reason your troupe is visiting Pilgrim’s Dawn. They a slot into the dance with gusto, finding places and partners, whirling and pacing and swapping, sweat gleaming on their brows and sparks leaping at their feet. London has few to practice with – this communal Terpsichore is something unique to Pilgrim’s Dawn.
The Brazen Brigade	Even this, seemingly the lifeblood of the city, does little to influence the Brigade. They keep to the right rhythm, allowing the dancers to slot in alongside and between them, but they do not embrace the dance the way citizens do. Perhaps, in its reclamation from Hell, the Rose Giveth holds no interest to them. Perhaps it is the very association with Hell that taints it. Perhaps it is merely superfluous to their purpose. Whatever the reason, the group marches on.

Failure Description

A sinister affliction

Even for one so familiar with the city as yourself, you can occasionally find the city’s rhythm at odds with you. Citizens label this somewhere between a medical and a spiritual malady, referred to jocularly as “two-left-feet-itis” and generally use it as an excuse to get a day of well-earned bed rest.

You, of course, must continue your tour, inconveniencing the citizenry in your way.

Stroll through the Perennial Gardens

Description

In London, it is said that Pilgrim’s Dawn has a river that runs uphill.

Success Description

A moment's quiet

This is not strictly true, of course. The Perennial Gardens, housing the Silent River (so-called because it has no mouth) is actually completely level: a loop around the city. By red artifice, the whole circle is downhill. This lets the river flow eternally, and makes for a wonderful location to stroll and pick flowers which could pass for Surface-grown.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	As you take in the greenery assisted, as it is, by the brightest street lights found in the city, you notice something. You have taken the downhill path – widdershins, as it were. Most of the citizens you pass are travelling deosil – that is, anticlockwise – uphill.
Society Sightseers	The bright and probing light here pales the gardens in comparison to the Surface, or to Parabola. Still, it is a novelty for the sightseers to visit in real life what they usually can only in dream. When they reluctantly leave, their fineries are stained a faint green.
Benthic Researchers	The researchers fan out around the Gardens, poking around at a few moss-covered shrines. The most common sight is the Daughter, depicted variously as a bird-wreathed woman and a light-wreathed mountain. More sparsely, there’s affection held for the Fathomking and what seems to be the concept of mushrooms.
Infernal Hagiocrats	Some of the devils leave charred footprints in the weak grass; they dip their feet in the river and it hisses. Others amble the garden aimlessly, taking in views which seemingly hold no charm for them. One, however, is picking at the grass and bushes, running their hand through the leaves. “Follicles could be designed to produce this…” they mutter, “and flowers could secrete epiconmunal pheromones… A Prince designed for leisure could be quite a novelty.”
Shattered Zailors	The zailors shudder a little at the shift of down, but settle as the quiet of the garden envelops them. There is a shrine here that they instantly recognise as one to Stone, albeit an interpretation a little different than the Wolfstack traditional. A few linger around it, a few stay well away, and all seem satisfied with this arrangement.
The Brazen Brigade	The Brazen Brigade do not take a route through the gardens. If they did, their steps and regularity would surely have trampled out a path of bare dirt through the grass. So they keep along the road and you enjoy the gentle downwards inclination of this objectively flat ground.

Failure Description

Leafy ambition

Ah. You have stumbled into an area of the Perennial Gardens where plants bloom strange beneath the correspondence-laced light. You hear vile whispers in the leaves of the trees; you must shake a foot to dislodge creeping vines; a pack of daisies grin at you. You make an exit as soon as possible.

Sample the city's leisure

Description

Even in such working city, citizens get days off – and things to do on those days.

Success Description

Hinterland entertainment

Pilgrim’s Dawn is an city that appreciates the arts, the sciences, and the value of good spectacle. Unfortunately, its current means fall a little short of its ideals.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	You, of course, know the city well enough to recognise its unique offerings and how to find them. By the end of this diversion, you find yourself satisfied – intellectually, perhaps, or emotionally, or gastronomically, or in any number of other manners. The city can provide, if you know how to draw it out.
Prospective Citizens	You lead the prospective citizens to a small establishment close into the side of the hill. Through a cramped tunnel and stairway, it leads your group deep into the earth and, eventually, to the Pilgrim’s Dawn communal baths. Your guests are delighted, and let the waters soothe their aches and callouses.
Constable Seminar	There is a great variety in the performances of the Hexagon, but today it presents its most common offering: theatre. The constables are used to seeing their depiction on the stage, but while in London a sweeping raid makes for a compelling climax, here it is more often an inciting incident. A few of your guests must be shushed before they call out in protest; all of them leave with something to chew on.
Clerical Field Trip	There is not, strictly, a museum in Pilgrim’s Dawn. All that exists at the moment is a perfunctory archival building, dusty and unoccupied. Nevertheless, illuminator exploration out west has turned up many a implicatory remnant, from vestiges of ‘68 to refuse of the Waswood and a few skeletons verging on believable. It is the first category that captures the Bishop’s attention, of course, but all evoke a little pondering and humming and quiet discussion from your clerical entourage.
Terpsichorean Troupe	While the Terpsichore is as common as walking to the citizens of Pilgrim’s Dawn, there are those who take it further and dance in forms even more obscure. They carve out their own space on the streets, and while they dance to the same beat as the rest of the city, their pieces are solos. This is more familiar to your Troupe and they join in with vigour, each bringing their own unique form and style.
The Brazen Brigade	You don’t need to find entertainment for your guests; your guests are the city’s entertainment tonight. Tourists gawk and citizens look on with reverence – or at least respect. There are stalls for refreshments set up along the Brigade’s eternal path: not for the devils themselves, but for the onlookers.

Failure Description

An empty call sheet

Pilgrim's Dawn is a city with grand ambition, but not always the means to match it. You sit in the Hexagon amphitheatre for almost an hour before deciding that nobody is performing tonight and leaving unfulfilled.

Seek out furred residents

Description

Wildlife always has the most interesting things to say.

Success Description

A kind afterthought

Pilgrim's Dawn is not a city made for its four-legged members, and yet it does not spurn them. There are no elaborate and wide-spanning tunnels beneath the streets, no miniature buildings with saucers and flap-entrances. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, these residents are more often found on the cobbled streets, eking out lives alongside their human companions.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Alone, however, you have little hope of catching one for a conversation. A cat slips between your legs; a small mischief of rats scatters as you approach. Eventually you relent and content yourself with watching the pigeons and bats in the cavern air. There! An aerial brawl, blitz-quick. You pluck an undelivered note from amongst the feathers fluttering down from the heights.
Society Sightseers	It's not long before one of your number strikes up a conversation with a forthcoming ginger tom. The visitors remind it of its time in London, it seems, and it aims to impress with the amount of gossip it still recalls.
Benthic Researchers	One of the students is already making conversation with a tattered-looking rat. Rat-religion, apparently, has its place in the Church in the Wild: the Dreaming Chorus, the Scholar of Speech. But it is oft-ignored by larger folk, except for use in their eternal debates.
Infernal Hagiocrats	When the Hour of Dance calls and whirls an ancient human into bandage-ribbons and dust, a strange sort of frost-moth is born. There goes one now – this one is has a centipedal form, metres long. Some scuttle, some flit, but this specimen undulates on a dozen paper wings. The devils watch in silence as it flows overhead – westwards.
Shattered Zailors	The sight of rats seem to bring the crew some comfort. After all, if rats are around, the ship must be doing alright. A few of them emerge from the shadows and spend a while chatting with your visitors – the mutual exchange of horror ztories revitalises all's appreciation of their current, solid, standing place.
The Brazen Brigade	The wildlife has a similar respect for the Brazen Brigade's pilgrimage to the humans here. Cats weave between their legs and rats catch rides on their gleaming epaulettes.

Failure Description

Scampering

Just because the animals here are more visible, doesn't mean they're more accessible. You catch glimpes of plenty of ginger toms and rats on rhythmic, mechanical transportation-machines, but they all disappear before you can get a word in edgewise.

Follow a watchman patrol

Description

The uniform is distinctive; shadowing them will be simple.

Success Description

Authority in measured doses

Pilgrim's Dawn's City Watch is a body not entirely unlike London's constabulary, though there are many notable differences. In the chit-based labour system of this city, no-one may perform more than half of their shifts with the Watch, and never for more than six consecutive days. Their responsibilities are lessened – legality stretches further here – but the city still views the position as a necessary evil.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Alone it is easy to go unnoticed, and you get to experience a small slice of the watchmen's route. They chat amicably as they patrol their beat, but at the sound of smashing glass they bolt immediately towards the source. They know the city so well, negotiate so ably with its crowds, that they lose you and you never learn the source of the noise.
Prospective Citizens	Your guests shift uncomfortably in the presence of the watchmen, all too familiar with the flaws with this kind of system. The presence is light enough, however, that they eventually relax. One even responds when a watchman tries to strike up a conversation, though it peters out before long.
Constable Seminar	The watchmen have differing reactions when they notice the gazes of your constabular companions. One straightens her shoulders, patrols steadily and keeps an even more vigilant look-out on the road. The other goes in the opposite direction: relaxing further, telling more jokes, making more small talk with passing citizens. The latter is the longer resident, by far.
Clerical Field Trip	The Bishop inspects the watchmen from afar: their berets, their batons, and their baroque yet tasteful regalia. This he seems to appreciate – their relaxed posture and attitude less so. But when a shriek rings out from another street and the pair make off like dogs off the leash, he grins.
Terpsichorean Troupe	While most citizens are adept at riding the line between walk and dance, keeping the rhythm whilst not losing oneself to it, the City Watch have elevated this skill to an art. They patrol their beats on the, well, beat, and the instant a cry of alarm goes up they're off, boots clacking on the cobble but still keeping the rhythm. A couple of your number applaud.
The Brazen Brigade	As the Brigade approach the watchmen's faces and forms show respect verging on reverence. For a moment you are certain that if the pilgrimage led straight through a house which the devils picked clean as they went, the City Watch would do nothing to stop them.

Failure Description

Loitering

Acting suspiciously is not a crime here or anywhere, as much as London police might wish it so. It is, however, a good way to get authoritative eyes on you, and that never makes for relaxing tourism.

Stop tuning out the open-air recitals

Description

Dredge them out of the background noise.

Success Description

Diamonds in the rough

At any one time you can hear half a dozen readings from the various street corners, balconies and sewer grates of the city. While they are all clad in the same style – that of the Celestials – the content ranges.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	You find a young urchin, reciting from a scrap of paper to passing pelvises, apparently hoping they will spontaneously grow ears and literary appreciation. When she sees you listening she redoubles her efforts, her voice quiet but driven as she speaks of the woe of a lost Frozen Charlotte and the grand, fabled evil of her older brother.
Society Sightseers	A shriek from one of your party – they recognise those stanzas. A mad dash through the streets ends with a tearful reunion; a resident here was once a friend of one of your guests, and has been reciting poetry they wrote together as boys.
Benthic Researchers	The poetry of the city is a gold-laced river for your researchers; a great wealth of knowledge lies within, but must first be removed with the pan of literary analysis. When you reconvene, a pair are arguing if the "pervsasive, wicked call from the dark" is spoken by a specific entity or is merely metaphorical. The literal interpretation seems to be winning.
Infernal Hagiocrats	"Hm," a devil says, seemingly actually interested in the performances. "They bear their souls more comprehensibly here." The rest of the excursion is spent throwing around words like "curdled" and "flickering" and "fermented" and giving one another impressed looks.
Shattered Zailors	One of your number takes this racket as a challenge and begins belting out a zee zhanty with such force that most of the poets are startled out of their recitals. Your other guests join in, and soon even some citizens have grasped the melody – though balk before singing some of the lines.
The Brazen Brigade	There are more poets than usual today, and lined up along the road oddly regularly. When you actualy catch their words, you understand why: each poem is paean to the drumbeat, or to nameless, many-legged saints, or to blades forged of starlight and impossible battles, honourably fought. The Brigade remain stony-faced, which disappoints the onlookers. "Next time," one mutters.

Failure Description

Variations on a theme

The poems here are all Celestial, all egregiously hopeful and blindingly saccharine – so much so that it's hard to tell them apart in the busy street. You grasp for single strands, moments of literary uniqueness that could lead you to a safe and singular harbour, but when you think you've found one it turns out to be multiple and then everything and you are lost once again in the maudlin deluge.

The Peak of Pilgrim's Dawn

Storylet Description

You emerge at the top of the hill, surrounded by spires which grasp in vain at the Roof. The beat of the drum is less up here, padded by distance and the bulk of earth. The endeavours found at the peak are those requiring deep concentration, those of particular and solemn importance, and those simply assisted by the altitude.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Now you have a moment to examine the architecture up here, it almost puts you in mind of the Bazaar. The towers lack that essential violant sigilwork, but the designs clearly take heed from its naturalistic, chitinous structure.
Prospective Citizens	There is not one among your number who has visited the Travertine Spiral, made pilgrimage to the Mountain of Light or even set foot on a dirigible – this is the closest any of them have ever been to the Roof. (Though, in the grand scheme, it's still rather far away.)
Society Sightseers	The buildings and towers up here are adorned a little more elegantly than the purposeful constructions of the lower city. Members of your group coo at the architecture and the brass fittings and the indelible style of it all.
Constable Seminar	The headquarters of the city watch resides up here. Many of your group venture in – those interested, or instructed, to learn about a less severe form of policing. You deign to stay outside.
Benthic Researchers	There are small chapels of the Church in the Wild dotted all around the city; the largest of which resides up here. It pales in comparison to the vast bulk of St Tympanus' itself, but remains a vital study for the Researchers.
Clerical Field Trip	The Bishop of Southwark gazes down at St Tympanus' with reproach.
Infernal Hagiocrats	The fading of the beat seems to disconcert your infernal companions. "Is he alr—" one blurts, but catches themselves.
Terpsichorean Troupe	Even your troupe, inspired as they are by the syncopated rhythm beneath the cobbles, are glad of its slight abatement. The citizens have learned to balance the rhythm like it's second nature; your visitors have not.
Shattered Zailors	A far-gazing lookout sways a little as he stands. Perhaps the heights remind him of his time upon a raven's nest.
Bazaarine Agents	These agents, more than anyone, see the Bazaarine influence in the towers up here. They seem unsure whether it's a mark of appreciation or derision, but neither possibility troubles them. "Cynics can be sold to almost as easily as adorers. Moreso, sometimes."
The Brazen Brigade	Here, the Brazen Brigade rest for a moment. Their journey has been long, much longer than you have accompanied them for, and they take a moment of calm before embarking on the final leg.

Join the rose-scholars' work

Description

Much can be gleaned by observing the Terpsichore from afar.

Success Description

Nib on the pulse

Telescopes with darkened lenses, ink tinted with violant and flame-resistent canvases imported from London, at expense. The rose-scholars examine the movements of the crowd and translate them through rules both interpretive and impartial into sigils unpon the page. More effective than any referendum or polling initiative: what are the words of the city's subconcious?

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	You keep an eye on a single dancer, one of the many, and make your own notations of their movements. You come away with quite a different message to that of the city: a dance not at odds with the citizenry as a whole, but littered with personal affectations and woes. Are your footsteps so easy to read as this?
Society Sightseers	The more academic aspects of the craft are lost on your guests, but they recognise artistry when they see it. A few even rush back down to the streets below, compelled for their footsteps to influence these beautiful works.
Benthic Researchers	Your Benthic Researchers are of a kind with the rose-scholars, and though they have little to teach each other, come away with a good deal of fellow-feeling. "Perhaps the Department of _______ has merit after all," they come away saying.
Infernal Hagiocrats	The devils are dismissive of this technology. Old Hell, apparently, had Princes for this kind of job, who would trace the zeitgeist from below the streets by feeling the vibrations of each footfall. They do admit, at least, that the finished products have a certain appeal.
Shattered Zailors	The words of the city's zeitgeist seem to be, in part, concerned with your zailor guests. Where they have staggered with their bawdy and raucous merriment, a little of that cameraderous essence remains.
The Brazen Brigade	There is a buzz to the sigils today, a tension that speaks to being part of something bigger than oneself.

Failure Description

Impenetrable formulae

The city moves, the scholars write, you watch, and yet these activities fail to link together in your mind. You might know logically that these sequences of sigils are being danced beneath you on the streets, but if you can't see the connections, the information is worthless.

Look down at the Hinterlands

Description

See what Pilgrim's Dawn has wrought on the landscape.

Success Description

The great work

The grand swathes of darkness that form the Hinterland landscape are, slowly, shrinking. Glints of light pockmark the earth, evoking the night sky of the Surface. At regular intervals tower Xanthous Beacons which pin the landscape beneath them like a dying moth to a page.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	You've seen some of the maps produced in Pilgrim's Dawn; their famed accuracy is no myth. It's said that the beacons are a Khanate invention, their light specifically engineered to the purpose of beating maps into sensibility. This is more difficult to confirm.
Prospective Citizens	This work is the city's pride, for reasons both practical and ideological, and living here would necessitate a devotion to this cause. The practical reasons the Prospective Citizens can appreciate; the ideological may take a little work.
Constable Seminar	Lamp-tampering, both within and without the city, is one of its gravest crimes. In many cases breaking a lamp would warrant a more severe punishment here than in London. As two watchmen haul away a young man with brick-dust-red hands, one of your number shouts a few pointers on the art of 'dissuasion'.
Clerical Field Trip	You notice that the eyes of your religious entourage keep drifting westwards, then snatching back when they finally alight on the White City.
Terpsichorean Troupe	There are patterns out there, in the configuration of lampposts and the crawling gallop of horses across the landscape. Your troupe sustains a few migraines before abandoning the line of inquiry.
The Brazen Brigade	During their brief respite, a Brazen Brigadier joins you in your gazing. She points far out west – not to Hell, but into the inky blackness further north – and traces the line of their path before it met you a way away from the city gates. "The drum is only one part of an ensemble," she says, not-so-cryptically.

Failure Description

Star-mad

You gaze down at the landscape: points of light in a sea of blackness. Try as you might, you can't internalise this as any cogent view of Neathy geography; all that you can see is a grand and unveiling starscape.

Witness the Supplication-in-Trade

Description

This is a regular occurence, but it's fulfilled with grave solemnity every time.

Success Description

Econo-theology

There is a small building at the peak of the city, somewhere between a temple and an emporium. All through the month citizens have been visiting it and dispensing stories: from parables that barely take up half a page to thick, leather-bound volumes. Now a Feverish Relicker collects them. Soon he will be on his way down to the station, where a locomotive will bring this cargo to the Bazaar itself. You have time to read a little before he departs.

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Most of the books here are journals, hand-bound and lovingly written, but all anonymous. You have time to nose through a few before the Relicker snatches them from your hands: Pilgrim's Dawn has no lack of dramatics, it seems.
Society Sightseers	Your socialites fan out, each searching for a text which appeals to their sensibilities. By the time the Relocker pushes you out, there is barely a dry eye amongst them.
Benthic Researchers	There is a shelf filled with poems here. Some are simple and down-to-earth but many are paeans to far entities and concepts. The researchers compete for the most interesting find; the winner is an apology-ode to a silver once-king, traces of brightly-coloured dust still visible on the corners.
Infernal Hagiocrats	The hagiocrats turn their nose up at this display. As far as they're concerned, the only higher entity that the city should be showing this degree of reverence to is the one beneath its doorstep.
Shattered Zailors	One of your guests has heard of this tradition; he retrieves a crusty and battered volume from his coat pocket and stuffs it onto an overfull shelf. "Ship's logs," he says to the questioning looks, though you catch a dampness to his eyes as he strides from the building.
The Brazen Brigade	A Brazen Brigadier enters the store-temple behind you and gingerly slides a black-bound volume onto a shelf. When he sees you watching he shoots you a look that says if you touch that spine you'll end up without one.

Failure Description

Mixed successes

All you find on this occasion, before the Relicker removes you, is a number of volumes of actuarial tables and what seems to be a shopping list. Apparently some citizens view the tradtion less with reverence and more as a paper disposal service.

A Hill, Conquered

Storylet Description

You have experienced the breadth of Pilgrim's Dawn – at least, as much of it as can be experienced in a day trip. Now the beginnings of electric dusk are here; it is time to descend again.

Bid your group farewell

Description

They will trickle down the city without your guidance.

Success Description

Riding twilight

Visitors to Pilgrim's Dawn	Second Paragraph
Yourself	Of course, there is nobody else. You're struck with a sense of isolation, up on this hill. Citizens linger and tap in every direction, it's true, but they are one body and you are another. You think on this as you descend the city, electric lights pinging red around you.
A group of prospective citizens	When you reach the base of the city, glowing pink and red in the twilight, you're just in time to see your remaining guests board the train home. There are faces missing there, and their companions know not to wait for them.
Society Sightseers	You hear gasps from your group as they spiral down the city, immersed in a great deluge of reds and pinks and oranges as dusk washes down the city. You catch some wistfully looking at the electric lampposts before being swept away by their fellows.
A seminar on Hinterland policing	There is an interesting mix of bitterness, boredom and a strange contentment on the faces here. You trust that they've learned from their visit – though you don't trust that quite enough to return their truncheons before they leave the gates.
A Benthic study into western religion	The dusk racing down the city's lightbulbs doesnt' entrance the researchers as it does other visitors. If anything they see it as an annoyance, and grumble as they squint at their notes and walk out of your sight.
A heiratic field trip	The lights ping to a dusky pink as the Bishop thanks you for the opportunity and begins to descend the city in bounding strides. One of the priests meekly asks about St Tympanus', but the Bishop is too far away to hear already.
Followers of the pipe and of the mandolin	There is a titter of bemusement from your guests as dusk takes hold of the city and the lights all begin to flick red. As they walk away, they cast strange shadows in the easy light.
A Terpsichorean troupe	The Drummer is more reasonable than once it was; as dusk washes over the city in reds and pinks, the beat lowers in response. The troupe walk off with steps once again their own.
A crew with dramatically extended shore leave	The crew are significantly less wound-up than when they arrived, this view of novel strangeness makes the prospect of returning to their familiar work more appealing. They marvel at the city's slow dusk as they make their way away from you.
Agents of the Bazaar	One of the agents gives you a brief handshake before they all depart. The red lights of twilight cast their faces and suits in sharp, grim angles.

Accompany the Brazen Brigade to St Tympanus'.

Description

Their true destination lies close by.

Success Description

A dour splendour

The ground between the exit of the city and the entrance to St Tympanus' is beaten into a enduring path; no mushrooms or bone spurs sprout here. The broad path leads directly up to the church’s grounds, and that is where the Brigade assemble. They form two ranks, either side of the grand double-doors of the church, and their commander raps neatly. The doors are hurriedly hauled open from the inside by two junior clerics, who follow up with wonky but earnest salutes.

The Church of the Drummer is free to visit, of course, and you have been before, but the accompaniment of the Brazen Brigade lends the venue even more grand solemnity. The high, gilded ceilings ring echoes of their march and the iconography glints with the light of scores of burning eyes.

The Brigade march deeper, across marble floors and down wide staircases, to basement layers and doors that must be hastily unlocked before them. You follow them as far as you can, but when they take a weathered, ancient-looking tunnel down into the heart of the Burrow, there is an overwhelming sense that to follow would be a dread mistake. So the Brigade drop away into the darkness and the old stone door grinds shut behind them.

The Run of St Tympanus'

Storylet Description

You have not been instrumental in the Brigade’s March. Your presence could more be likened to that of a wasp at a picnic – you could not expect a reward. But, when all is said and done, the wasp gets the leftovers. That is to say, with your lingering air of infernal authority, you have the unparalleled access to St Tympanus'.

Throw open the church's storerooms

Description

When it's not splashing out on golden idols and grand friezes, St Tympanus offers food to the hungry.

Your Calloused Hands will become various sustenance items.

Success Description

More than bread and fish

Calloused Hands	Text
0	You order junior theologians to the task like a grizzled line chef and you spread news of a grand feast like a beneficent ruler, but whwn you push open the doors to let the masses into the church there isn't a single scrap of food on the table. Hm. There is a barely-audible growl of a stomach and then the very audible growl of a populace as they stalk out of the church, decrying your practical joke.
1-99	The promised 'feast' would be better described as a 'meal' – there is not enough to sate every appetite, but the novelty of the food does not go unappreciated. The traditional fare for sustenance out here is very earthy and vegetable-rich. Here there is meat and wine and Unterzee fish and tea, donated by well-meaning London patrons. Citizens leave with reminders of once-home and bellies not too full for dinner.
100-299	Pilgrim's Dawn does not struggle for food. It labours for food, certainly, but the earth is forthcoming and there are no pesky seasons to worry about. Still, this feast is bordering on lavish. Mushroom bread with dried solacefruit, brandy and pots of luciously spreadable marrow. There's even seasonings! One might ask whether this was the best use of the church's resources, but its effect on morale cannot be denied.
300+	Surface food! St Tympanus' must have a wealthy donor from sunlit England, or else the frieze business has stalled due to a particularly unproductive month in theology. Whatever the case, amongst the best the Neath has to offer there lie apples, various preserves, bread – real bread! – and other wonders of the sunlight. The citizens gorge themselves on these delicacies and speak loudly about the sun's generosity. When all is said and done no Surface food remains, though glowing faces stagger away from mountains of leftovers.

Piece together St Tympanus' theology

Description

The scholars here have accumulated a wealth of knowledge on Neathy gods.

Your Pious Hearts will become various theological items.

Success Description

Active theology

Pious Hearts	Text
0	There is a strange noise as you enter the debating hall, and it takes you a moment to place it. Of course: the sound of your own thoughts. The hall is full to bursting, as ever, but it seems to have morphed into some kind of discursive battlefield. The two sides speak in hushed whispers amongst their own and throw derisive glares across the central aisle. You make a move to venture into the no-man's-land (as the devils call it) but something tells you that this would draw you into the conflict while simultaneously teaching you nothing of value. You leave quickly.
1-99	Like Regensburg's before it, the Diet of St Tympanus' is never-ending. Here they take that a little more fervently, though, with debate lasting around the clock. As you enter the debating hall you get the distinct sense that this particular argument has been going for at least a dozen hours. "—but the Hooded Saints fear the Changing One," a clamorous theologian protests. "He must be higher on the Chain, or else—" "Is power to determine divinity?" a venomous vicar shoots back. "A bear is stronger than any man. Should we say they are closer to the vault of Heaven than we?" Of course, this leads to an eruption of discussion of animal-saints and the value of speech, largely obscuring the original point.
100-299	The debating hall of St Tympanus' is structured like a lecture theatre: a half-circle of tiered seats facing towards a central speaking area. Usually this pulpit goes unused, with debate held from the seats, but when there is new information to impart, all turn to the centre. This is what you have stumbled into today: bespoke theological research. A team has arrived from the Roof-Library, their hair windswept and robes ragged. They speak of patterns and equivalences and a regimented theology. There is a distinct Mendeleevic impulse to infer possible gods from gaps in these regiments, but this is met with a dozen objections and the hall lapses once again into cacophany.
300+	There is the distinct sound of scribbling as you enter the debating hall, with each scribe listening intently to a squeaking voice from the pulpit. At first you don't see the speaker, but squinting you can make out a tiny figure atop the stand: the Skyfaring Rat. He rambles and hiccoughs and drinks communion wine from a thimble, and he has the most attentive audience all the Neath over. His tale is roundabout and tangent-heavy, but you catch scraps of coherency: creatures of wooden bronze and paper, a goddess gorging herself on contentment, a great crab-corpse floating in the depths of space. It is then that the rat lets out a particularly large burp and teeters off the top of the pulpit. He'll be fine, a deacon says, they place pillows around the stand for this very reason – but it's the end of the sky-sermon for today.

Inspire an Hour of Dance

Description

It will not take much to raise his ire, entombed beyond the glass as he is. You won't need to look far for a reflection.

Your Calloused Hands will become Correspondence Plaques.

Success Description

Dance-plague

Calloused Hands	Text
0	But— hang on. There is no movement behind the glass, no great and chitinous presence in the gold at the edges of your vision. There is drumming, yes, but it's lazy, regimented, predictable. Is the Drummer... sleeping? Can one even sleep in the land of dream? Whatever the case, the Drummer is not giving its whole and glorious self to the beat. There will be no Hour of Dance tonight.
1-99	You honey the rim of a drum and place it in a room of gleaming minor deities. As you begin to play, you don't-quite-see a great and shifting shape respond, mirroring your rhythm but with a dark and frenzied urgency coursing through it. You drop the drumstricks and sprint upstairs, intent to observe the chaos you have set in motion. Already the citizens are at it, limbs afrenzy and unmasked need in their eyes. You do not feel the pull so strongly, not being a citizen yourself, and so you quickly ascend a building and start sketching movements. By the end of the night, all are tired and sore but cameraderous in their suffering, and you have reams of pages of Correspondence-as-dance.
100-299	You dip your drumsticks in honey at let them drizzle onto the skin of your drum. When you begin to play the sound is muted, but resonates in a distinctly unnatural way. When it echoes back to you it is different, and you can't help yourself but to play to this new and stranger rhythm. And it happens again, the beat turning stranger and stranger with each echo, until you are playing a meter that can only be measured in dream-numbers. You drag yourself from the drum (it carries on beating without you) and head into the city. This Hour of Dance is strange and slow, picking up in the sleeping and driving them to walk in time in collective somnambula. These unconcious minds write sigils with their steps, but you must reflect them to read anything sensible.
300+	The moment the honey touches your lips, before you even have a chance to play a single beat, the Drummer responds to your dream-presence. A wild, frenzied rhythm picks you up and carries you through to the grand halls of St Tymapnus', where all must dance. You make rhythmic, whirling beelines from vicar to vicar, even the lightest brush setting them to the same dance as you and you see it in their eyes: all must dance. All of you descend the Burrow and enter the city, a score of reaching, probing limbs of a force so much greater than you, which demands that all must dance. You infect citizen after citizen with the manic need and all must dance, and all must dance, and all must dance until ten thousand legs give out as one. Your dreams are filled with devil-chorus for a week.

Turn your mind downwards

Description

Pilgrim's Dawn is not a natural-born city. Glean what you can from the gods close to home.

Your Pious Hearts will become Emetic Revelations.

Success Description

The mind beneath

Pious Hearts	Text
0	Sorry. Nothing. You cannot formulate any new ways to engage with the earth-god of the city. You amble the streets but keep getting distracted by the smell of a baking pie or the sound of an argument in a home. The deeper instincts that support the city are invisible to you.
1-99	From up close you cannot see it, like the curvature of the Earth or the absurdity of a grudge. But here it is visible to you, the vast bulk which Pilgrim's Dawn lies on. You walk the city with your eyes shut, feeling the ground beneath your feet and trying to keep that distance in your mind. You walk and walk and walk until the moment-to-moment experience is nothing and you can feel the patterns beneath. An imperceptible shifting beneath your feet. An earth-smell that puts you in mind of love and loss. A cloying urge to look upwards.
100-299	You lie face down on the earth. You recieve strange looks, of course, but to commune with the god-that-is-ground, being made to feel beneath is probably of benefit. Soon you drown out the rest of living experience and focus on beneath. You don't notice it immediately, but after a while you feel like you don't want to get up. It's not that's it's comfortable, of course, it's that when you think of leaving the ground, of ascending, a bitter bile rises in the back of your throat. Wouldn't it be wrong, you think. Wouldn't it be a betrayal? Eventually these feelings recede and you can bring yourself to stand again, though the smell of the earth clings to you.
300+	There are strict instructions not to fall asleep in the deep communal baths of Pilgrim's Dawn. You have a good theory as to why. While most of the city works you sneak down the humid tunnels, eventually arriving at an large, empty bath. The waters are warm and sap the stress from your muscles; it must feel divine after a day's work in the Hinterland. The waters are far from pure so you float easily, the echo of water soothing you into a light sleep. You dream of a sibling which shares your face and your body and your mind, how it tears itself apart from you and departs to live with a wealthy suitor. You dream of pain and restrainment, spikes in your body trying to nail you in place. You dream of a sham-marriage to one who doesn't know you and doesn't wish to. You dream of an immeasurable lifetime of suffering and abatement-turned-punishment, and when you wake the tears of the earth mingle with your own.