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"The air tastes of salt and rot. Up close, the carcass of this ancient crustacean resembles a battlefield. Its carapace is pockmarked from the impacts of space detritus, and cracked open from the impact of six spires. Doors of Leather, Rubber, Chitin, Scale, Fur, Flesh and Feather lead inside, each of them carved and branded with a letter of the Correspondence."[1]
The House of Rods and Chains is a deceased Messenger located in Eleutheria.
Homely?[]
"Hm? Oh, sorry. It reminds me of old London, and the Echo Bazaar."[2]
The House of Rods and Chains was once the favored Messenger of the Halved, but was slain for disobedience.[3][4] Its body now rots in the expanse of Eleutheria, and its structures and interior have fallen to ruin and decay.[5][6] It is unknown whether the House died before or after the Halved began suppressing its own light in favor of darkness.
The House has features reminiscent of the Echo Bazaar,[7] such as seven doors of differing materials,[8][9] and spires atop its body.[10] However, it has several distinguishing traits: firstly, the House's doors are marked with sigils of the Correspondence, and are made of leather, rubber, chitin, scale, fur, flesh, and feather.[11] Secondly, the House had seven spires made of obsidian,[12] but it is unclear how many spires the Bazaar has, or what material they are made of.
The House's spires have long collapsed, but one remains, called the Spire of Inches.[13] This spire is inhabited by Mr Barleycorn, who stayed loyal to the Halved after the House's death.[14] Within Barleycorn's study is a two-way portal to the Neath, which manifests in the High Wilderness as a rippling altar,[15] and below the Unterzee as a massive, glaring eye.[16][17]
The Curators of the House[]
"Correspondence is seared into this broken wax seal. One shard reads: 'Not to be forgot.' Another: 'What awaits. Why we must stay.' There are other words, hard to piece together: Pennies and Pipes; Barleycorn and Menagerie."[18]
The House of Rods and Chains once had a set of Curator servants,[19][20] similar to how the Echo Bazaar has its Masters.[21][22] However, all except Mr Barleycorn fled their duties after its death. Originally, the House had seven Curators,[14] but the identities of only four are known. All four were acquaintances of the Masters, but chose not to follow them to the Neath.[23][24]
The Rubbery Guests[]
"It takes every last drop of your strength, and the Chitin Door fights you all the way. It is as thick as armour plating, and almost as heavy. Inside, a hundred Rubbery Men carefully ignore your arrival. Refugee Londoners, you recognise, the giveaway being their hats on their tentacled faces and the yellowing copies of the Gazette under their clammy armpits. Such earnest social camouflage never helped them fit in with society back home, but it seems old habits die hard."[25]
"They came to this place in a ship forged from broken shells. They had followed your kind from the Neath. Perhaps they believed they would find their lost Axile here. It is fortunate that they are used to disappointment. I tolerate them. They cannot disturb the Messenger – its purpose is long served. And their amber is ever so pretty."[26]
The House of Rods and Chains is home to a large colony of Rubbery Men,[27] who arrived on a vessel of broken shells after London's departure to the High Wilderness.[28] They gather in the Throat of Lamentation behind the Chitin Door, and retain some habits from their days in London, such as wearing hats or carrying newspapers.[27][29] The Rubberies here run a market to exchange amber for goods[30] and services,[31][32] and stave off the House's decay using embalming fluids and labor.[33] Mr Barleycorn does not think highly of them, but it appreciates the amber they donate as tribute.[34][35]
The Rubberies of the House seem desperate to find their home planet of Axile,[36] and Barleycorn suspects they traveled here in search of it.[28] Unfortunately, the Rubberies' explorations have been fruitless,[28] and their spirits are low.[37] To express their yearning and anguish, they congregate in the Throat of Lamentation to sing, using the room's acoustics to amplify their voices.[38]
The laments of the Rubberies are:
- The Lament of the Old Sun: A song of the Rubberies' lost home and the sorrowful journey that brought them here.[39]
- The Lament of London: An elegy that recalls the bells, bustle, and musical performances of old London.[40]
- The Lament of False Hope: A performance where the Rubberies break into groups, such that one group orbits the other. The music is initially joyous, but ends in dejection.[41]
- The Lament of Axile: Begins with a chorus to dream of home, then breaks into individual performances so every Rubbery Man's shames and losses are heard.[42] This lament is also performed on the House's surface: the Rubberies cry out to the skies in grief,[43] but bond over their shared homesickness and hope.[44]
Deep below the Throat are the Drowning Coils,[45] a network of waterlogged corridors and rooms, some of which store dross.[46][47] The Rubberies here do not abide by the civilities of those above,[48] and they tinker with the Shapeling Arts to combine amber with other materials to produce valuable golden amber.[49] Deeper still is the Sprawling Morass,[50] a cavern filled with noxious gasses that have rotted away its walls and hallways. The area is flooded with a foul, knee-deep liquid, and chunks of amber are littered throughout.[51] The Rubberies who gather here are described as "feral,"[52] and commingle in colonies and feed off weeds growing in pools of white ammonia.[53] The only lights in these depths are from apocyan pyres, attended to by Rubberies who howl in endless lament.[53]
Historical Inspirations[]
Rods and chains are units of length, equal to 16.5 feet and 22 yards respectively.
References[]
Curator gallery fanart by Feivelyn.
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