Postman Apocalypse

The Cave of the Nadir is technically extremely secret, its location known only to a select few. But you are a postman, now, and with a strange sigil burning in your mind you can find anything.\n\nThe irrigo light of the Nadir is poison to memory. When you escape, you remember little about what you found inside. \nYou think you did something with a red-haired clothier, who handed you a bottle of strange dark liquor. The Bazaar. You can remember forgetting something, but you don't know what it was. A shade of purple. You gave a skull a card. Or did you give a card a skull? Absence. You remember handing out cards to strange, forgotten sorts, who no longer remember their names. Who sent them the cards? You forget. The Sun. What were you even talking about? Huh? What? Where are you? \n\nYou think you've forgotten more than you learned.\n<<set $Postal -=2>>\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\n\nYou've lost 2 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nWere you supposed to be doing something? Did you do it already?\n[[Maybe just go back to delivering|Going Postal]]\n[[Possibly the Postmaster knows|Mission Select 2]]

The room contains nothing more than a strange puce blob. Still, the dispatcher says this is the place... it's never wrong, after all. You gently leave a letter in the centre of the room. The envelope is rimmed with gold-leaf.\n\nOn your way out, you feel like you can hear a whisper... "M...oth...er...?". This inspires an extreme quickening of pace.\n\n<<set $Postal +=9>>\n<<set $Menace +=4>>\nYou've gained 9 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 4 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nYou emerge, panting, into the gaslamp-light of the Palace's exterior. Wait a moment to catch your breath, and then...\n\n[[Back out onto the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

You spend the rest of your days at Nuncio, giving and receiving rats, puzzling out the nature of strange, terrifying concepts, venerating the Royal Mail. You help the Scuttering Company expand their operations, forming a fruitful rat-postman partnership that turns Nuncio into a powerhouse of the zee and rats-on-a-string into one of the most valued currencies. \n\nRattus Faber engineers become the world's most renowned weaponsmiths, shipbuilders, tinkerers- the demand on the Surface is great enough that Nuncio Co. has to buy out the Iron and Misery Company to meet the quotas. You and your trusty rat sidekick become the wealthiest individuals the Neath has ever seen. Life is good.\n\nOn the downside, you never get those Christmas Cards you were promised.\n\nThis is an ending! Not even a bad one. It'd be better if you got your cards. But, on the other hand, rats.\n\nGAME OVER. [[RESTART?|Start]]

There's not much room to manoeuver on the dock of the Grand Geode; you eventually manage to lose your pursuer by diving into the darkened cargo hold of a nearby ship. The ship you came in on, even. How convenient!\n\nWhat will you do from here?\n\n[[Stay put, go home|North]]\n[[Swim out to the Dawn Machine|THE SUN]] NOTE: THIS IS A REMARKABLY BAD IDEA

You throw the orb at the Sun. It floats in front of you for a few seconds, not really doing much, and then explodes into darkness! Your engine roars back into life, and you plunge through the blackness, unable to see or hear or do anything as you rocket forward.\n\nYou emerge mere inches away from the Sun's surface. Your Bombazine suit is useless at this range; it absorbs all the light it can in a half-second, and then combusts entirely. Your ship also combusts entirely. You, too, are scorched by the sun. Nothing remains but a regret.\n\nThis is an ending! Judge your distances carefully before you throw things at a tremendous ball of gas.\n\nGAME OVER. [[RESTART?|Start]]

Stories have spread of a dreadful machine, far to the South. If you ask the Ministry of Public Decency, they'll claim it doesn't exist. Maybe they'll whack a [REDACTED] stamp on you, just to prove the point. Ask the Admirality, and they'll tell you to mind your own business. \nBut zailors returning from long zee voyages have brought tales, of a dread shining radiance, a brilliant orrery, lights like the far-off sun. Of course, zailors tell many tales, but these zailors have a wary look to them. They look like survivors, not blaggards.\n\nSo, of course, word has spread, legends grow, rumour mills... and now you have a stack of cards addressed to the Dawn Machine to deliver. Pranks, probably... but some of these envelopes look like Navy stationery. The mail always gets through... and you've volunteered, for some reason.\n\nYou'll have to stow away on an Admirality ship; no zailor worth his zalt will voluntarily risk life and limb just to make a delivery like this. Fortunately, one's docked right now!\n\n[[Sneak aboard|South]]

[[Five...]]

Tangles of webs cloud your vision, snag your feet... in the dark, spider's eyes glow. Mercifully, they do not strike... yet. You remain totally, utterly lost.\n\n[[Fumble onwards|either("Lost Rocks 2","Council")]]

You don't actually bother to say anything, instead you just run.\n\nWebs tangle around every limb. Spiders leap out at you from every angle. Just keep moving! Just keep moving!!\n\nThere! That's the Nativity! If you just press on, you'll make it back, both eyeballs intact.\n\n...and that's when the biggest sorrow spider you've ever seen lands on your face.\n<<set $Menace +=13>>\n\nYou've gained 13 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n\n[[Everything aches.|Run 2]]\n\n

Let's see...\n\nThis card is <<print either("rectangular","spherical","a cube","rat-shaped","square","egg-shaped","a floating patch of unusually solid air","odd","cool","pear-shaped","unusual","not","conventional","card-shaped","unconventional","ominous","lemon-scented","void-scented","strawberry-scented","ammonia-scented","covered in mysterious goo","plain","suspicious","cuboid","circular","many-faceted","nightmarish","imaginary","carved into your mirror","conveyed to you in sleep","dissonant","written in symbols, like those on the flanks of the Bazaar","inscribed on an ancient tablet","carved into the skin of a delivery-goat","just kinda there", "unplain", "mysterious","surrounded by bees","full of friendly gallblighters","emanating a blue fog","cardy","Christmassy","Ratmassy","Hallowmassy","Massy","extremely","unfathomable","stored inside a box of sunlight","stored inside a box of moonlight","glowing amber and gold","written on the back of a deed for a derelict mansion","relayed to you by means of cat","flecked with serpent-venom","from a future that never was","from a past that never was","from a certain future","from an alternate present","a present","given to you by a cloaked figure","produced by Mr Sacks","a lemon","trapped inside your kitchen drawer","a manifestation of time","endlessly flickering between timeplanes","a probabalistic waveform","blue","not card-shaped","fortunate","unfortunate","swarming with Huz","full of bloatfingers","actually a kind of exotic worm","just plain ol' normal Christmas card fare","a reminder of your dreadful fate","a living card from Polythreme","a candle","a reminder of your future","a reminder of your past")>>, coloured <<print either("red","blue","green","orange","black","irrigo","violant","peligin","viric","cosmogone","apocyanic","gant","blood","cyan","gold","magenta","white","yellow","emptiness","sunset gold","sky blue","octarine","nothing","blankness","chocolate","egg-white","rat-fur","void-dye","carmine","carnelian","sapphire","pearl","something you really can't describe","a hue you saw once in a dream","death","snow","diamond","gold","fear","steam-grey","spiderweb","razor","russet","amber","Bazaar-black","spire-white","night","navy","Dawn-Machine-gold","aubergine","coffee","midnight","curiosity","maroon","crimson","powder blue","greener","blacker-than-black, the colour of the unlawed sky","amber","blue amber","wobbly amber","lemon","lemon-slime","eggshell","egg yolk","eggshell-black","Christmas","bean","Master-blood","airag","wine","lacre","mystery","with all the hues of the sunrise","with all the hues of the moonrise","sunlight","moonlight","blood","tears","strangely","impossibly","beige","Beige Two","cat-hair","Huz-carapace","bloatfinger-flesh","paint catalogue red","typewriter black","in pigments from the Elder Continent","with paints stolen from July's Roost","with pigments brewed from marshwater","with Drownie-tears","other red","aquamarine","ultramarine","spacemarine","Master-eye blue","ultrablack","hotblack","pelican","virrigo","cosmogant","apocyan","apogant","pelirrigo","virigin","virigant","cosmocyan","Unterzeegreen","mirror-silver","shiny gold","shiny","glitter","with gloam-foam","skyglass","ravenglass","carnation","stocking-red","like the spires of Caution","tongue","brass","lengual-pink","cat paint-pink","honey-yellow","honey-red","panther-black","hyphens","with the shade of a gallblighted eye","green and gold","with all the glories of the horizon","with your past","with unsavory details","colours","dreams","nightmares","extracted venom","extracted poison","bees","ivory","stygian ivory","the shade of the far country","dark","darker","yet darker","pewter","glory","griswine","candle-black","wax-white","false-light","knife-token","steel","iron","bronze","sapphire","ruby","emerald","gemerald","soul-stain","enamel","tooth enamel","devilbone","Irem-rose-red","butter","scarab-carapace","phosphoresence","platinum","with Dr. Schlomo's writings, rendered into a paste and spread thinly over everything","Correspondence","stone-tentacle","destiny","newspaper-grey","soul-green","soul-blue","soul-grey","soulfully","wax","ray-drenched cinder","like a memory of light","enigmatically","like zzoup","like dark-dewed cherries","like an unkind truth","like an unwelcome rumour","royal-blue","pink","flint")>> and <<print either("red","blue","green","orange","black","irrigo","violant","peligin","viric","cosmogone","apocyanic","gant","blood","cyan","gold","magenta","white","yellow","emptiness","sunset gold","sky blue","octarine","nothing","blankness","chocolate","egg-white","rat-fur","void-dye","carmine","carnelian","sapphire","pearl","something you really can't describe","a hue you saw once in a dream","death","snow","diamond","gold","fear","steam-grey","spiderweb","razor","russet","amber","Bazaar-black","spire-white","night","navy","Dawn-Machine-gold","aubergine","coffee","midnight","curiosity","maroon","crimson","powder blue","greener","darker-than-dark, the shade of Liberated Night","obsidian","lemon","pink","blacker-than-black, the colour of the unlawed sky","amber","blue amber","wobbly amber","lemon","lemon-slime","eggshell","egg yolk","eggshell-black","Christmas","bean","Master-blood","airag","wine","lacre","mystery","with all the hues of the sunrise","with all the hues of the moonrise","sunlight","moonlight","blood","tears","strangely","impossibly","beige","Beige Two","cat-hair","Huz-carapace","bloatfinger-flesh","paint catalogue red","typewriter black","in pigments from the Elder Continent","with paints stolen from July's Roost","with pigments brewed from marshwater","with Drownie-tears","other red","aquamarine","ultramarine","spacemarine","Master-eye blue","ultrablack","hotblack","pelican","virrigo","cosmogant","apocyan","apogant","pelirrigo","virigin","virigant","cosmocyan","Unterzeegreen","mirror-silver","shiny gold","shiny","glitter","with gloam-foam","skyglass","ravenglass","carnation","stocking-red","like the spires of Caution","tongue","brass","lengual-pink","cat paint-pink","honey-yellow","honey-red","panther-black","hyphens","with the shade of a gallblighted eye","green and gold","with all the glories of the horizon","with your past","with unsavory details","colours","dreams","nightmares","extracted venom","extracted poison","bees","ivory","stygian ivory","the shade of the far country","dark","darker","yet darker","pewter","glory","griswine","candle-black","wax-white","false-light","knife-token","steel","iron","bronze","sapphire","ruby","emerald","gemerald","soul-stain","enamel","tooth enamel","devilbone","Irem-rose-red","butter","scarab-carapace","phosphoresence","platinum","with Dr. Schlomo's writings, rendered into a paste and spread thinly over everything","Correspondence","stone-tentacle","destiny","newspaper-grey","soul-green","soul-blue","soul-grey","soulfully","wax","ray-drenched cinder","like a memory of light","enigmatically","like zzoup","like dark-dewed cherries","like an unkind truth","like an unwelcome rumour","royal-blue","pink","flint")>>. There is a design featuring prominent elements of <<print either("rats","snow","birds","zee-bats","the Unterzee","giant crabs","an egg","you. Huh","Dr. Schlomo","the Sun","the Dawn Machine","the Cheesemonger","Mt. Nomad","The Bazaar","Mr. Sacks","a Rubbery Man","a rugged zailor","Mr Eaten","Mr Wines","Mr Hearts","Mr Spices","The Vake","Mr Veils","a nun","Sinning Jenny","giant-er crabs","the Avid Horizon","postmen","Christmas Cards","Velocipedes","the Tiger Keeper","Nuncio's Royal Male","goats","blood","a slow boat on a silent river","a Rat of Glory","the Knife-and-Candle","Jack-of-Smiles","knives","the Shuttered Palace","elements","a cheerfully festive devil","God","the coming apocalypse","The Mountain of Light","eternal darkness","the Dragons Which Devour Time","the RNG","glacierats","Death","a really gross tomb-colonist","your unknown fears","your known fears","lacre","unknowable geometries","midnight","stars","the New Sequence","glim","false-stars","your rival","assassins","reckonings","money","mushrooms","spirifers","albino rats in snow","the Fourth City","The Third City","The Second City","The First City","Polythreme","nightmares","Parabola","a curious clothier","crystals","autumn leaves","a well","your own death. Oh dear","distressing cannibalism","Huffam","Huffam! May his skin burst and his tongue boil eternally","The Boatman","spider-councils","Lorn-Flukes","The Fathomking's Hold","aspects","design","unimaginable concepts","the Sundered Sea of the Bazaar","Caution, that far-off city at the Elder Continent's heart","caution","the North","the Chapel of Lights","a hungry, hungry well","your forgotten scandals","the Liberation of Night","Irem","Adam's Way","the Surface, far above","the under-Unterzee","the Peligin Wash","zzoup","butchered zee-creatures","the end of all things","the blood of the Masters","the East","Frostfound","your own life","horseheads","feathers","truth","beauty","rat bees","mutation","amalgamy","the colour of the unseen","the breath of the void","the tracks between the stars","the transit of messages","couriers","the Seven-Serpent","bloatfingers","bloatapples","chertapples","the fires of the deep earth","the glories of the deep sky","the freedom of being free","the imprisonment of freedom","the Americas","Nuncio","whatever the Red Science is","a rock from space","a rock, not from space","flint","a piece of a royal scientist","skeletons","determination","the consumption of the soul","elements","God","the College of St. Cyriac","the Chapel of Lights","the guardian of the Chapel of Lights","Correspondence","the shell of a star","a coffin","heartmetal","suffering","unfunny jokes","eight million puns","the eyes of heaven","vampires","cool vampires","the invention of the sunglass","moonlight","sunlight","bagels","coffee","energy","a treatise proposing that the fish of the Unterzee will rise up and destroy London, claiming it as their own sovereign nation, which they will rule over for three thousand years before being defeated by the seashells, which will rise up in turn to protest their exclusion from the grand fishperson empire","the Fathomking's Hold","avarice","swank","a platinum ship","a platinum chip","unlawed time","the grip of the Dawn Machine","the ecstacy of eating chains","the desires of the heights")>>.\n\n<<print either("Now, lets look inside!","The following message flashes across your eyes;","Suddenly, you become aware of the contents","What does it say?","What's inside?","Nothing is written within. But that night, when you sleep, you hear these words...","Time to read!","As you look at the card, a voice in your ear whispers...","What does the card say?","This is what the card says;","This is its message","Hopefully this isn't a bad idea...","But forget that card, have a look at this one:","Inside that card, you find another card...","This reminds you of a message...","","A passing postperson offers this translation:","If you'd ever studied Ancient Greek, you'd know this is what it says:","Might as well read it","Time to use the ol' visionspheres","Bring this card to a wise scholar, and this is what they might say:","You trade your card to a passing urchin, who passes on this message:","The card shouts at you!","To fully understand this card, you must consume it","Hey!","Reading this probably won't be the worst decision you make all day.","Incorporating the card in a four-course meal reveals this truth:","Here's a colon:","Here's a comma,","Well...","From that, we get this,","As far as Benthic College understands, this is the message it's supposed to convey:","In Parabola,","You slide the card under the Glass Door of the Bazaar. Through that door, you hear these words...")>>\n<<print either("Dear","You will be a candle for us all,","Oi,","Attention;","Help,","Wow,","Hey","Alert","Hello","Greetings","-","","Agh! It's","Thinking of you,","I hate you, goddammit","You're the worst,","Festive greetings,","Happy Holidays,","Merry Christmas","Comrade","Salutations","You,","The name of my hated foe;","Oh no it's","The Liberation Of","I wish my name was","Hail","Yo","Greeting,","Oh, it's","You're","I'm","What do I put here,","Goodbye","Who is","Incredible,","Hi hi hello","Ratmas tidings,","Festive wishes,","You are","Welcome","Ayyyy","Ay","Your name isn't","Doctor","Professor","Hey! Is this thing on,","Where you at,","What's the haps","Are you sitting comfortably,","Hola","Good morning","Good evening","Goodnight","Happy Christmas","Good Christmas","Merry Holidays","Enjoyable Holiday","Hope you have a good Christmas,","Hope you have an acceptable Christmas,","Hope you have a terrible Christmas,","Hope you have a decent Ratmas,","You were expecting a Christmas card, but it was me,","What have you achieved,","Was it worth it,","Can you help me solve this puzzle,","But nobody came.","The winds are wild,","Do you recall how we came to that place,")>> <<print $Name>><<print either(".","!","?","...","",":",";","-","‽")>>\n<<print either("Cheers!","Merry Christmas!","The lacre is deep.","Happy holidays!","Festive Festive Season Of Your Choice!","Wonderful Winter!","I'm trapped in a Christmas Card factory, send help!","I hate you, please die.","You're pretty cool.","Happy birthday!","Ratmas greetings!","Hello.","I will destroy you utterly, this I vow.","aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.","Happy Soon To Be New Year!","We are best friends now.","We are arch nemeses now.","Cool!","Wow.","Good work.","Get well soon!","Who even are you?","No hard feelings.","Good Time.","","This card will self destruct in 5 seconds.","[a squiggly weird symbol that hurts your eyes].","[chess notation].","[a long winded love poem].","[The entire text of Shakespeare's Macbeth].","Egg.","Happy Hallowmas!","I came back from the grave to tell you that","I don't want you to know that","The following statement is false;","Happy It!","Good Morning.","What's the deal?","What's happening?","Hey, is this thing on?","Hola.","Good morning.","Good evening.","Goodnight.","Happy Christmas.","Good Christmas.","Merry Holidays.","Enjoyable Holiday.","Hope you have a good Christmas.","Hope you have an acceptable Christmas.","Hope you have a terrible Christmas.","Hope you have a decent Ratmas.","You were expecting a Christmas card, but it was me, Ratmas Card!","What have you achieved?","Was it worth it?","Can you help me solve this puzzle?","You should probably be aware that","Did you know that","It's not true that","If I were real I would","I want you to know that","The New Sequence, no,","The Calendar Council, no,","The Masters, no,","Me, no,","You, no","")>> I hope your <<print either("holidays","rats","horrendous diseases","legs","foodstuffs","camels","family","friends","eggs","copies of Macbeth","ravens","bits of wax","thoughts","ears","houses","warty bits","lives","terrible habits","table manners","secrets which only I know","scandalous appetites","tendencies to consume everything around you","Christmas Cards","beliefs","hideous visages","secret identities","journeys","Echoes","valuables","plots","grand designs","chairs","Revolutionary plots","relics","candles","years","eyes","faces","hopes","dreams","meals","archaeological expeditions","trips across the Zee","scandals","secrets","obscenities","loves","hates","lodgings","Rats of Glory","hopes and dreams","determinants","waveforms","cats in boxes","cats freed from boxes","chains","amalgamous lovers","deadly enemies","deadly friends","pet bloatfingers","chertinesses","wounds","nightmares","suspicions","fruits","secret japanese comics","phrasebooks","boxes","boxen","contraband items","red honey habits","acquaintances","assistants","guns","gun's","swoords","bishops","memories of the Surface","contaminated biomasses","zombies","unzombies","testimonials","kisses","seasons","lives","alternate selves","musical performances","christs","masses","Ratmasses","rat masses","cinders","damns","dams","faces","souls","inhumanities","love stories","well-songs","secret miracles","spoors","paintings","secrets framed in gold","ambitions","enigmas","medals","copies of your words","secret adorations of the Dawn Machine","public adorations of the Dawn Machine","revolutionary pamphlets","materials for the Great Work","letters of the Name-Which-Burns","spires","banes","vanes","knot-names","names","timeplanes","punches","beetles","gallblighted eyes","trade secrets","cats","orbs","statues","flakes of flint","head-mushrooms","memories of Paris","glimpses of the future","balls of twine","contraband mirrorcatch boxes","tendencies to jump on a bollard and yell about halfpeople","tendencies to writhe in blood-ivy","tendencies to bleed from the eyes","battle tendencies","punchghosts","Drownies","blemmigans","stories","aspects","knives","snarling stones arising from sleep","reflections","choirs")>> are <<print either("commingled","good","great","hidden","exposed","dead","terminated","unwell","sad","destroyed","laid bare","on fire","cheerful","festive","safe","unsafe","taken by the well","lost","eaten","liberated","wobbly","spiteful","lacreous","disgusting","hideous","like your face; godawful","like your face; very attractive","like your face; forgettable","trapped in the post","all mine","kept secret and safe","forgotten","dark","salty","melted as wax","consigned to the Wax-Wind","Liberated","afraid","kept in the dark","erased","happy","healthy","gallblighted","imprisoned","eaten by a knot-oracle","cheerfuller","locked in a prison of flint","dropped on a basalt floor","cracked","okay, I guess","full of hope","filled with determination","told lots of extremely good jokes","Welsh","forgotten entirely","fed to the Seven-Serpent","lost in Frostfound","stuck in Wisdom","put inside a box, which is then given to someone who drops it into the Unterzee","","just, uh, there","overgrown with mushrooms","eaten by the Huz","burned in the rose-fields of Hell","well-drawn","fed to the Behemoustaches","the subject of wonderful blemmigan poetry","dropped into the Sundered Sea","reanimated as a lacre-golem","thrown through the Avid Horizon","broadcast to the heavens","eaten by a star","killed","utterly exterminated","foiled by a tiny dog","defeated by a plant","accidentally consumed","weird","caused by a case of mistaken identity","the subject of a really bad poem","just some nonsense a Tortoise made up","flayed by the Blue Prophets","whispered in the spires of the Bazaar","written in the margins of the Master's Daybook","stored within the ur-sock","transformed","transfigured","amalgamated","forbidden","expressly responsible for new laws being created","explicitly responsible for the Liberation of Night","the key to it all","explicitly reponsible for the destruction of the Sequence","prevented by the Great Chain","forever immortalised","frozen in ice","frozen in flint","frozen in law!","scrutinized by the White","remembered in Salt","cast out of the Garden","just kind of alright","almost always forgotten","almost never remembered","confounded","hidden within the Dark Room","hatched","chertified","turned into a horse","remembered as a tale told under the earth","exalted by the suns")>><<print either(".","?","!","","‽")>>\n<<print either("All the best,","I hate you,","The seventh city will never fall, and all of us will live.","You disgust me,","I love you,","Goodbye,","Please consume yourself, for all of our sakes,","Are you dead yet?","The assassins will strike at dawn,","Merry Christmas,","Happy Holidays,","Goodbye forever,","I hope to never see you again,","Sincerely,","Insincerely,","Sardonically,","Eternally yours","Regretfully,","Sclera. Limbus. Noctis. Animus.","From the shadows,","Right behind you,","Good night,","Merry Ratmas,","May you and your rats be saved,","FOR THE LIBERATION,","May we some day meet again,","This will be the last time you hear from me,","Destroy this letter,","From a safe distance,","Wishing you the best,","Have a stab-free season,","Get stabbed repeatedly,","Stop, no, please, I beg you,","From the depths,","You'll never take me alive!","Hyperbolically yours,","In the name of Dawn,","For the Judgements,","This broadcast brought to you by","Sponsored by","","In another world, I would be","In memory of Satan,","In roses,","In lacre,","In memory,","My real identity will remain a secret, but always think of me as","You'll never guess who I am, but I'm definitely not","Remember me when I go East,","Remember me when I go North,","Remember me when I go South,","Remember me, just, in general,","Forget me","By the time you read this, it's already too late,","This is the only way I can communicate, please, help, I have been widely distributed through the fabric of reality,","You will be a candle for us all","I am filled with determination,","Let us eradicate this worthless world and move on to the next,","Never hope to halt what comes,","The Chain Forbids.","No.","It's rude to gossip about someone who's listening,")>>\n<<print either("Your friend","Your mother","Your aunt","Your arch-nemesis","Your eternal love","Your hated foe","The Postmaster","The Manager","Mr Wines","Mr Eaten","Mr Spices","Mr Rats","Mr Hat","Me","You","Your benefactor","Your malefactor","I don't actually know you, I just sent this at random","Her Eternal Majesty","The Bazaar","Your dad","Your uncle","Your soon-to-be murderer","The Risen God","Hillock","The Sun","The Royal Mail's Emissary","The Fathomking","Sven","The Cheesemonger","The dark reflection of your soul.........","The Merchant Venturer","A hatred elemental","Death","Fate","Your long-lost aunt","Your evil dad","Your hate-filled left hand","","The assassins which will arrive at dawn","Someone you don't know, will never know, but who will always know you","The Duchess","Your daughter","Your son","Your long-lost sock","Your sister","Your brother","Your pursuer","Your minor nemesis","Your acquaintance","Your best pal","An animate egg","The long-dead God","The Radical Factotum","December","The Dawn Machine","The Admirality","Satan","Your secret admirer","The Brimstone Convention","A Devil","Your worst nightmare!","You, but from the future","Huffam. (Man, you hate that guy)","Huffam","The Boatman","The Emissary of Spiders","The Sun","The Radical Factotum","February","Lilac","All your old friends","All your old enemies","The Royal Male","","Salt","silence","Sans","W.D. Gaster","Mr Candles","Mr E","Mr Apples","Mr Hearts","Mr Names","Mr Mirrors","Mr Cups","Mr Fires","Mr Iron","All of us here in the Bazaar","Mr Sacks","July","August","September","October","November","December","January","February","March","April","May","June","The Commodore","Your Reflection","The Blithe Graduate","The Listless Baronet","The Deluged Docent","The Wistful Deviless","The Tartar Priest","Alexis","The Server, shortly before guttering like a dying star","A dying star","The White","The Messenger","The Message","The depths themselves","me irl","u irl","The Spirit of Ratmas Past","The Spirit of Ratmas Future","The Spirit of Ratmas Never","The Septemberist Council","The Huz","The Bloatfinger Gang","A Starved Man","The Nacreous Outcast","THE BISHOP OF SOUTHWARK","Posthumanity","The Thief of Faces","Amalgamy","The Great Chain","The Sequence","The Council of Dragons","Time","Another egg","The egg which hatched Parabola","The guy who really wants a high five","The Sallow Spirifer","Your soul","The Soulless Messenger","The Orts","The Surgeon's Child","The Cladery Heir","Not who you think","A Bat with Attitude","An Exceptional Hat","A wild pair of Lenguals","Pluralization","Emperor Crispin IV, Greatest Of His Name","The Delightful Adventuress","The Merciless Modiste","The Pirate Poet","Me","Goku","The Smiling Priest")>>.\n<<set $Cards +=1>>\n<<set $Postal -=10>>\nYou've gained 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Cards>>).\nYou've lost 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n<<if $Postal >= 200>>\n[[Look at another!|Cards Get F'reals]]\n<<endif>>\nLooking through more cards will cost a small amount of Gloom of Neath, as the Postmaster is a tyrannical monster, deep down.\n[[An ending!|True End]]\n[[Actually, you really want to deliver some more cards|Going Postal]]

You wander about the house for a while. Nothing much happens. You still receive no Christmas Cards.\n\n<<if visited() % 2 is 0>> <<print either("A red-cloaked figure peers in your window, then strolls off", "Some rats engage in battle just outside your door. It is very impressive; the snow is higher than they are", "You attempt to make toast, but your bread has frozen solid", "An urchin throws a snowball at your window. It leaves a curious stain- almost like frozen tears.", "An individual in a Royal Mail uniform creeps by, hunched over beneath a massive sack. They do not stop at your door. Not even for a moment", "A cat leers in through a window", "An urchin attempts to sell a pail of snow to a passerby. Suddenly; a tremendous roar! Your windows rattle. The urchin nods, apparently satisfied, and hands over the pail.", "Sounds of a scuffle! Inches of thick, Neathy snow are not enough to dissuade the participants of the Game of Knife and Candle, apparently.", "You hear shouting, a long way off.", "Someone has written something in the condensation on your window. THRON?", "A rat falls down your chimney. It's a pretty big rat, so you keep it.", "Damn, but it's cold.", "Someone outside slips in the snow. They start crying when they hit the ground; huge, mournful sobs. It can't have hurt that much, can it?", "Say, is that a Master shovelling your neighbour's path? No, no, that's impossible. Just someone in a heavy cloak, no doubt.", "One of your pets looks judgementally at you.", "Your Christmas Card quality remains unchanged, at 0.","A door-to-door salesman offers to sell you a packet of illegal, non-Bazaar Christmas Cards, on the down low. Your glare sends him scuttering away.")>> <<endif>>\n\n<><<if $Sad is 2>>Melancholy hasn't increased, because it's higher than 4<<endif>><<if $Sad is 1>>Melancholy has increased to 5!<<set $Sad to 2>><<endif>><<if $Sad < 1>> Melancholy is increasing...<<set $Sad to $Sad + 0.2>><<endif>><<endnobr>>\n[[Mope some more|Mope]]\n[[Go back to bed|BAD END]]\n[[Sigh, and go outside|The Lacreous Streets]]\n

You march out onto the street, Excalibrat held tightly in both hands. It's time to pass judgement.\nYour sword is a sword forged from order. Order and rats. Orderats. You swing it through every ratpile in the city, one-by-one. They order themselves into nice, neat packages, and then conveniently scurry off to deliver themselves. This is the Excalibrat's all-powerful, um, power! It's a pity it only works on rats, but there's plenty of rats here for you to work on.\n\nIn no time at all, the streets are clear of rodentine obstruction. Some people may be unable to enter their houses ever again, but that's not your problem now. All you know is, Ratmas is saved!\n\nNow... what are you going to do with this sword?\n\n[[Toss it into the Stolen River|Ratmas Sword]]\n[[Become the God-Destroyer of Rats|Ratmas Satan]]\n[[Hang it up on your wall, go home, have a drink|Ratmas Peace]]

The Sun swells to fill your entire field of vision. Try though you might, you can't avoid looking at it. Sorry, Benthic guy.\nYou think you could get a little bit closer... maybe.\n\n[[Drift closer|Icarus 2]]\n[[Toss the cards at it|Missed, pal]]\n<>\n<<if $Samber is 1>>\n[[Toss the Bazaar's Echo at it|Courier's Dream]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Toss rats at it|Ratmasun]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Unclear >=1>>\n[[Toss your orb at it|Mist, pal]]\n<<endif>> \n<<endnobr>>

The Postmaster bites her thumb. "Frankly, I have no idea how the hell you're going to survive this. We have a squad of benefactors lined up to assist; festive cheer truly works miracles for co-operation. And threats. Threats work really well too. It's still going to be risky. I mean, obviously, but it needs saying."\n\n"This is going to be the most ambitious act any postman has ever accomplished. But we do not do these things because they are easy; we do them because they are hard. We've got the backing of the Masters of the Bazaar on this one, somehow. Mr Apples has offered a half-measure of Hesperidian Cider, enough to stop you from shrivelling once you reach the Surface. Additionally, Mr Wines has provided ten casefuls of Bottled Oblivion, so you can forget about the entire ordeal; before or after, your choice." \n \n"In addition, many Londoners have chipped in;" The Postmaster takes a long breath, "Dauncey's have provided a majestic full-body Bombazine suit which, we are told, will shield you against the light. Crawcase Cryptics have some kind of abtruse ritual "to guard against the light of Judgements", whatever the hell that means. Carrow's have offered some kind of really big gun; no idea what the hell you'd need that for. The Cheery Man wants you to bring some kind of box with you, but I don't think there's room. \n\nAnd, of course, the big one; the Merchant Venturer and Benthic College have collaborated on creating some kind of craft, like a ship that goes to the stars. Professor Denuntiatus from the Department of Infernal Rarefactions has informed me that it has only roughly a 43.224% chance of exploding before it leaves the ground. Which means that, technically, the odds are in your favour."\n\nThe Postmaster exhales massively. "You know, you can still back out. Nobody actually expects you to take these"- she waves a paltry stack of novelty cards- "all the way to the Sun. But, at the same time... if anyone could do it, it'd be you."\n\n[[Actually, uh, maybe later|Mission Select 2]]\n[[NEITHER RAIN NOR SNOW NOR etc. etc. etc. There's a job to do, and you'll do it|Praise the Sun]]

Onwards.\n\n\nAfter some time, the darkness begins to fade. Mauveness replaces it; not the mauve of the place-between-places, but a similar sort of mauveness. A colour like the sky's sister.\n\nAnd then, suddenly, there is no darkness at all. Bright (mauve) sky, rolling hills, shining sun! And... rats. Lots of rats. \nStill, perhaps this place is not so bad. Perhaps you could get used to it. Maybe... maybe you should start collecting rats. You know, as a hobby?\n\n[[Far off in the distance, murine mountains loom.|http://rattus.storynexus.com/]]\n\n\nCongratulations! You have reached an ending! And you didn't lose any limbs along the way.\n[[RESTART?|Start]]

Taking a deep, dark breath, you step forward, into the space too dark for language to describe. Fortunately, you are not killed instantly.\nYou take another step forward. Another. Another.\n[[Stride|Rat Zone 2]]

Today, the Rocks are the plain grey of spiderwebs, broken only by the occasional wine bottle.. Nervous merchants deny the existence of spiders; the very same spiders perched atop their heads, their shoulders, their faces. Your Christmas Cards bring a little colour into their dull grey lives. The Sorrow-Spiders squint fiercely at you- the eightfold stare of an arachnid is unparalleled- but do not interrupt you.\n\nWhen all is said and done, you still have a few letters left over, signed with messy scrawls. Almost as if they were written in the dark... or by someone lacking the use of their eyes. A mystery, for sure.\n\nOne which isn't left unanswered for long; a blindfolded man steps forward, offering to take them for you. "Apples for the tree, eh? We don't often hear from our brothers in London. The avaricious masters graciously accept their correspondence. And... ah, are these rats I feel? Excellent, excellent. Well, off you go, said the spider to the fly."\n\nYou raise your eyebrows. "Apologies. Just a little... joke."\n\n<<set $Menace +=3>>\n<<set $Postal +=17>>\nYou've gained 3 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 17 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\n[[Leave while you can. Spiders are not known for their sense of humour|Zafe Zailing]]\n[[Stare down the blindfolded man|Rock On]]

You whisper your name to the well. It is nothing, now. Nothing.\n<<set $Name to "nothing">>\n<<set $Well +=10>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n<<display 'The well'>>

The Rat of Glory growls; not with secrets, but with anger! It's an L.B. Master Thief-Assassin, and he's mad as hell!\n\nYou wake up a few hours later, sore and missing many rats.\n\n<<set $Postal +=2>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\n<<set $Rat = 0>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\nYou've gained 2 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\nYour "Unstrung Rat" quality has gone!\n\n[[Painfully hand out some cards on the street|Going Postal]]\n[[Painfully return to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

<><<if $Mad is 1>>You launch into a tirade, cursing the city's postal system, your distress at the state of the streets, the aesthetic nightmare of the blue-and-gold Royal Mail uniforms and, above all, cursing your lack of Christmas cards! \n \nThe postman listens to all of this, and stays silent. Then, remaining silent, he tosses his cigarat over his shoulder and grabs you by the lapels! \n"Listen, you think you have it bad? You think you have it bad? You couldn't last five minutes in this job." \n \nYou suddenly find yourself face-down in the lacre, your mouth full of a taste like grief. "In fact... I'd like to see you try. Head to the Post Office, they'll be glad for the help at this time of year. Otherwise, I'll make sure you never see those cards of yours. Ever." \n \nYou make a vague, slushy noise. By the time you've gotten up, the postman is already gone. You aren't sure which one of you was ruder. \nSo, what will you do?<<endif>>\n<<if $Chill is 1>>You converse for a while with the postman, talking about the weather, about Hallowmas past, about rats, the zee, the Bazaar's prices, surface memories, rumours of non-Sacks Masters in red cloaks, counterfeit Christmas Cards and other things too mundane to mention. Eventually you work up the courage to ask if he knows anything about your severe lack of Christmas cards. \n \nThe postman stares at you for a few seconds, sighs, looks at you again. "Look, you have no idea how big the backlog is. No idea. If you head to the Post Office, they may be able to help you. May. I make absolutely no promises. Now I need to go back to work." He pushes past you and walks off around a corner, out of sight. \n \nSo, what will you do?<<endif>>\n<<if $Sad is 2>>You truly are the most wretched of creatures! You bemoan your total lack of festive deliveries, making yourself out to be the most neglected, hated Londoner in all of... well, London. Not one single person bothered to think of you this Ratmas! \n \nThe postman blinks several times, then bursts into laughter. You feel profoundly awkward. \nGiggling occasionally, the postman explains that this year, a tremendous backlog of Christmas Cards has built up, and with all the staff off at Nuncio there's just no way to keep up. \n"Still," he says, suddenly serious."With an attitude like that, maybe you are totally friendless. Maybe you should swing by the Royal Mail, pick up a uniform. You'll get to meet new people, get some workplace camaderie, it'll be... adequate. Me, I'm catching the first tramp steamer I can get. I'm long overdue for a holiday, and I hear Whither is nice this time of year. Good luck with whatever it is you're doing." \n \nSo, what will you do now?<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n<<if $Mad is 0 and $Chill is 0 and $Sad neq 2>>You don't feel anything particularly strongly enough for you to have a very interesting conversation. You learn that the Royal Mail has been totally incapable of keeping up with the tremendous delivery backlog, probably due to the sudden influx in counterfeit cards. The postman suggests you should head over to the Mail office, pick up a uniform and help out; the Postmaster may deign to present you your Christmas Cards as a gift for a job well done.\n\nSo, what will you do?<<endif>>\n\n[[Take the advice; head to the Post Office|Royal Mail]]\n[[Ignore the advice; leap headalong into the ratpile|The Ratpile]]\n[[Give up on the whole thing and go to the pub|The Medusa's Head]]

Over the lip. Down and down and North and round. He drowned; you are only a vessel. Now that vessel is full. The spark is extinguished. Well-borne...\n\nFor a time, it hurts a great deal. Then it doesn't hurt at all. Of his bones are coral made. Your bones, your bones will ring the well.\n\nA reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely. This is a reckoning, for you. An ending.\n\n

"You know, I've never really been certain. We just kind of gravitated here. The older postmen have a deep-seated hatred of outsiders; you remember " His voice drops to a whisper... "But... I don't think the Royal Mail approves of non-postmen"\n\nOminous. And a little threatening. But you can't learn anything further from him.\n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why so many rats?|Rattsey]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

You had thought the Grand Mailing List would just be a rather large chalkboard covered in addresses or something. At first glance, that's exactly what it is. At second glance, likewise. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth glances, though, something strange begins to happen to the addresses. \nThey start to swim, squiggle and split, resolving into patterns utterly alien to your eyes. There's something entrancing about them, though... no matter how hard you try, you can't look away. It reminds you of the blazing sigils on the flanks of the Bazaar, but subtly different, like a stranger who resembles a friend from a certain angle.\n\nYou're drawn out of your reverie by the Postmaster clapping you on the back. Her cup of tea appears to have reignited itself. "Oh, yes, that's our new dispatches system. Chap from Benthic set it up for us. Said it was to test a theory. No idea what he was on about, but it's damned useful. You'll get used to it, don't worry... If you last, that is."\n\nAnd, indeed, names and addresses already begin to form at the forefront of your mind. You grab a satchel and as many letters as you can carry, and head for the door.\n\n"Oh, and before you go, I thought I'd let you know: I have a few special parcels I decided it'd be better to keep off of the main Mailing List. You will be considered in very high esteem if you manage to succeed. And, well, high esteem may get you to your cards more quickly."\n\nWorth keeping in mind. [[Well, off you go then.|Going Postal]]

Postman Apocalypse

Merry Christmas. If anything can ever be merry ever again. This poor soul has been waiting, waiting so long for these parcels of festive cheer. Their restorative effect is dramatic; colour returns to his face, he begins to stand once again. Is this the fate that awaits you, if you fail in your tasks?\n\nThe two of you hobble to an ancient, decaying rowboat. It's barely seaworthy, but it will do. It has to.\n\n[[Leave|Marsh Home]]\n[[Stay|Winking End]]\n

The postmen are the unsung heroes of London, the cogs that keep the [[Bazaar's engine]] ticking. Without those brave souls to ferry dining requests, correspondence chess matches, boxes full of mysterious contents, boxes full of spider or cat, strange slips of paper whose contents echo in dreams, illegal Knife and Candle tokens, and rats, the city would fall apart in a matter of days. Since the city was translated downwards, the average lifetime of the London postman is approximately eight seconds.\nSome are stabbed by every bravo in a ten mile radius, some are clawed to shreds by an angry spider or an angrier cat, and some simply disappear, heading North or East across the [[wide black zee]].\n\nStill, enough lectures on postmen; you have [[deliveries to make.|Mission Select]]

The Rat of Glory slumps, growling out ancient secrets. This makes you feel better, somehow.\n<<set $Postal +=7>>\n<<set $Menace -=7>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\nYou've gained 7 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\n[[Time to deliver|Going Postal]]\n[[Time to deliver, but better|Mission Select 2]]

You carefully place the bundle of cards onto the statue's base, taking care not to accidentally bump a candle or one of the many, many piles of rats.\n\nSecrets flood into your mind; betrayed messages, conspiracy in darkness, words unsaid, things unsent... You forget them as suddenly as they arrived, but some truths cling nevertheless. Not all of them are things you really wanted to hear...\n<<set $Postal +=20>>\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\nYou've gained 20 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nIt occurs to you that you don't really need to actually return to London. This island is a haven for postmen (and rats); it doesn't seem so bad, on the whole. You could just stay.\n\n\n[[Go home|Rat Back]]\n[[Stay here, the true home of postmen|Nuncio End]]

You rap gently on the door. Before your very eyes, it begins to heal; the cracks run together, thin, disappear. Remarkable!\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\nThen you remember the squadron of Special Constables charging your way. Oh no.\n\n<<display "Trunchin'">>

The cards float and flip in the air, but they burn to cinders before they ever reach the Sun.\n\nWhich isn't a good thing. You were counting on those cards. Without them, you may have no way home.\n\n<<display 'Icarus 3'>>

"Now we're talking! I take it you want a Rat of Glory, then." You nod, hopefully. "Alright. SVEN! GET ME TWO F7 BATCHES, ON THE DOUBLE"\nAn even larger rat rumbles outside, carrying two small rat candles. "Truth is, we don't even know ourselves which of these are fake any more. If you take two of them, you should get at least one real one. Good luck."\n\n<<set $RoG +=2>>\n<<set $Rat -=100>>\n<<set $Postal +=8>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\n\nThe door slams shut. Now where will you go?\n\nYou've gained 2 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\nYou've lost 100 x Unstrung Rats (new total <<print $Rat>>).\nYou've gained 8 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n[[Back to your usual rounds|Going Postal]]\n[[Get a good look at the Rats first|Glorious Rat]]\n[[Let's see what the Postmaster has planned|Mission Select 2]]

The Sun is distressingly close now. You feel like you could almost reach out and grab it.\n\n[[Drift closer|Crispy]]\n<>\n<<if $Samber is 1>>\n[[Toss the Bazaar's Echo at it|Courier's Dream]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Toss rats at it|Ratmasun]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Unclear >=1>>\n[[Toss your orb at it|THE LIBERATION OF NIGHT]]\n<<endif>> \n<<endnobr>>

"Hmph. Well, you tall folk always want something. SVEN! GET ME AN R88, ON THE DOUBLE."\n\nAn extremely large rat hands you a small, waxen rat. The craftswork is extraordinary.\n<<set $Postal +=7>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\n<<set $RoG +=1>>\nThe door slams shut. Now what will you do?\n\nYou've gained 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\nYou've gained 7 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Back out onto the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Examine the rat more closely|Glorious Rat]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]\n

The rats lie thick around Watchmaker's Hill; getting to the Baronet's Larder is treacherous. After a few near-escapes, you finally make it to the Baronet's mansion, on the western outskirt of the Hill. Knock four times on the door, and wait.\n\nThe door opens; you need to look down to spot the opener. The chief rat, Hillock, stares expectantly up at you.\n\n[[Request a Rat of Glory|Welp]]\n[[Deliver your Cards|Larder 3]]\n

"Aha! The boys will be happy to get these. It's always good to know someone cares about you. Now, is that all?"\n\n[[Request a Rat of Glory|Larder 5]]\n<<if $Rat >= 100>>\n[[Hand over some rats|Larder 6]]\n<<endif>>

The amber floats out in front of you. It is incinerated in an instant, but its message remains; a general sentiment of well-wishing, the longing of absence, the loneliness of soltitude.\n\nThe Sun seems to ruminate on this for a moment... then it unleashes a tremendous flare, a raw blast of energy! You've prepared for this; it was what you were waiting for. Leap into the bird's other head, quickly! \n\nThis side of the craft hasn't been fitted with an engine, like the other. However, it does have a tremendous sail; designed to let you ride out the energy flare and, hopefully, arrive home. So far, Benthic University haven't let you down... lets hope they manage to keep it up. The engine-head drops away, job done.\n\nYou extend the sail just in time; it billows, flinging you far away from the Sun. The Earth appears in a matter of seconds, filling your vision. You're going to crash! \n\n<<set $Mannerwell to 1>>\n<<set $Postal +=100>>\n<<set $Menace to 0>>\n<<set $Samber to 0>>\nA twist in your tale! Your 'All manner of thing...' quality is now 1!\nYou've gained 100 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYour 'Going Postal' quality has gone!\nYou've lost 1 x Bizarre Echo (new total 0).\n\nYou splash down, conveniently, in Lake Avernus. The water slams into you like a steel wall, but your impact is cushioned by your light-bloated Dauncey suit.\nMost of the academics have regained consciousness by now, although your arrival slams most of them back into the sweet nothingness of sleep. They'll be fine. All manner of thing shall be well. Even though you think you've broken a rib or six.\n\n[[Back down, down to the Neath.|Mission Select 2]]

Carved into the wall, the words "NEITHER GLIM NOR SNOW NOR GLOOM OF NEATH SHALL STAY THESE BRAVE MESSENGERS FROM THEIR DUTY" shout out to anyone who'll listen. Mind you, the "Neither" has been vandalised, but they'll probably fix that soon enough.\n\n[[Head inside]]

The Tiger Keeper looks expectantly at you as you place the Christmas Cards on a side table. When you pull the parcel of rats out of your postbag, his expression changes to one of surprise. Well, not quite surprise; it's the sort of expression you have when something you were expecting to happen actually happens.\n"Ah, yes. The rats. I've missed these... or at least, that what I'd say if I actually missed them. Which I don't, really. I suppose I had better reward you, then." The word "reward" is said in the tone of voice more commonly associated with "murder".\nThe tiger begins to speak in a strange, twisted language, which you can neither understand nor even really hear, like a warped dog whistle. Even though you can't hear them, the words stick to your mind like set concrete. You unhappily leave as the Keeper's laugh rattles the whole first coil.\n<<set $Postal +=12>>\n<<set $Menace +=11>>\n<<set $Rat -=100>>\nYou've gained 12 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 11 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 100 x Unstrung Rats (new total <<print $Rat>>).\n\nThe gate guard lets you pass without so much as a leer; the Tiger Keeper's judgement is punishment enough.\nSo, where will you go now?\n[[Back to delivery|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

On closer inspection, the postman seems to be smoking a rat's tail. Huh. A cigarat.\nAnyway, yeah, time for a questioning!\n<>\n<<if $Mad is 1>>[[Demand an explanation!|Postal Answers]] <<endif>>\n<<if $Chill is 1>>[[Start a little conversation, then broach the subject|Postal Answers]] <<endif>>\n<<if $Sad is 1>>[[Confess your woes|Postal Answers]] <<endif>>\n<<if $Mad is 0 and $Chill is 0 and $Sad is 0>>[[Ask if he knows anything about festive cards, and your profound lack thereof.|Postal Answers]] <<endif>>\n[[Stare at the postman for a few seconds, then leap into the ratslide|The Ratpile]] \n[[Take a place on the wall beside the Postman, look around|Gawk]]\n<<endnobr>>

You manage to stumble upon a concerned-looking clerk fairly quickly. Babbling out a quick explanation, you push the satchel into his arms before he has time to realise that you're not actually a Marine.\n\nYou catch interesting snippets of rumour on the way out, but you get the impression that you'd have learned more if you delivered the cards yourself. Whatever; your work here is done. Back to London.\n<<set $Postal +=20>>\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\nYou've gained 20 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nThe ship from earlier waits; unguarded, fortunately. \n[[You don't have to wait for long before it starts up, carrying you all the way home.|North]]

Some say, out there across the waves, you may find an island populated entirely by postmen, driven mad by the burden of their messages... and possibly something else, besides. They say the island is inhabited by thousands of rats, and that candles burn at the foot of a grand statue all through the eternal night of the Neath. They say the statue has a crown, and holds a rat aloft. They say lots of things. Some of them might even be true.\nOne way or another, postmen come and postmen go, but the [[Bazaar's engine]] of commerce and communication never truly stops. \nEven now, the blue-and-gold messengers dash across the city, trying to stop an endless tide of festivity. Others toss their satchels down wells and into snowdrifts and break for Wolfstack Docks. Tramp-steamer captains are making a steady wage ferrying these postmen around, and through their tales, rumour is born.\n\nWhich category will you fit in? [[There's only one way to find out.|Mission Select]]

There are correspondences everywhere, if you know where to look. Some daring theorists at the University suggest that the Bazaar, too, is a postman, and have postulated that the high turnover rate of couriers in the city is related. This theory was rubbished by Summerset College, on account of featuring the working class too heavily.\n\nStill, even accounting for the hazardous working conditions, there's something about this city drives postmen to abandon their mission, to betray messages, to set off across the [[wide black zee]], never to return. \n\n[[Anyway, you'd better return to what you were supposed to be doing.|Mission Select]]

Perhaps you can use things you've collected to, well, collect yourself.\n<>\n[[Go to the pub|The Bridge Without]] \n<<if $Cards >= 1>>\n[[Look at your Christmas Cards]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Rat >= 100>>\n[[Send someone some rats, off the record|Ratsending]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Light a Rat of Glory|either("Glorious Curative","Glorious Make Things Worse")]] \n<<endif>>\n[[Actually, you're fine, time to hit the road|Going Postal]] \n[[Actually, you're fine, time to hit the Postmaster. Um, wait, not that|Mission Select 2]] \n<<endnobr>>

Septuple-thick black lenses, stolen from an Admirality barge. A tight-fitting black overall, from Daunceys, complete with some kind of strange balaclava. It's surprisingly light, given its size. Several good luck charms. Lenguals? Presumably to help operate the craft. <<if $Cards >=1>>All of your Christmas Cards.<<endif>> <<if $Samber is 1>>The white-and-black amber, a Bazaarine Christmas Card.<<endif>> <<if $Rat >=100>>As many rats as you can carry.<<endif>> <<if $RoG >=1>>Ominous rat candles, to light your way.<<endif>> <<if $Cramber is 1>>The Christmas-infused Amber from Flute Street<<endif>><<if $Unclear >=1>>The strange orb you found in your postbag.<<endif>>\n\nThat should be everything. Your craft waits, humming like an extremely cheerful person on their way home. Of course, you're about to do entirely the opposite.\n\nIt resembles a bird's head; two bird's heads, really, facing in opposite directions. You clamber into something which approximately seems to be a seat. The last remaining conscious academic gives you a thumbs up, starts fiddling with something, and [[begins a countdown...|Countdown]]

You're not sure who wrote these cards... they have a suspiciously slimy feel to them, and a slight scent of lemon. Whatever their source is, the calming effect they have on the pool-creatures is remarkable. In no time at all, the pools are calm once more. Soggy envelopes bob gently beside the spiny things, but otherwise all is still.\n\nJob done, you prepare to make your way all the way back up to the snowy streets of London... but your Rubbery antagonist catches you by the leg!\n\n<<if $Cards >=1>>\nIt occurs to you that you still have one Christmas Card left. It's one of your own... but the Rubbery doesn't need to know that.\n<<endif>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\n<<set $Postal +=5>>\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\n<<if $Cards >=1>>\n[[Give the Rubbery some seasonal cheer|Fluke 3]]\n<<endif>>\n[[Shake it off, leave|Depths Above]]

At this distance, your rats have enough momentum to reach the Sun. They sink into the fires, and are gone.\n\nThe Sun seems to ruminate on this for a moment... then it unleashes a flare, a raw blast of energy! You've prepared for this; it was what you were waiting for. Leap into the bird's other head, quickly! \n\nThis side of the craft hasn't been fitted with an engine, like the other. However, it does have a tremendous sail; designed to let you ride out the energy flare and, hopefully, arrive home. So far, Benthic University haven't let you down... lets hope they manage to keep it up. The engine-head drops away, job done.\n\nYou extend the sail just in time; but, no, it snaps off! It catapults off into the void, never to be seen again. Well, the University tried, at the very least. You resign yourself to your fate.\n\nJust before the roaring flame consumes you, something smashes into the craft, sending it hurtling towards the Earth! You barely have time to even register this before you come in to land.\n<>\n<<set $Postal +=100>>\n<<set $Menace to 0>>\n<<set $Rat -=100>>\n<<endnobr>>\nYou've gained 100 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 100 x Unstrung Rat (new total <<print $Rat>>).\nYour 'Going Postal' quality has gone!\n\nYou splash down, conveniently, in Lake Avernus. The water slams into you like a steel wall, but your impact is cushioned by your light-bloated Dauncey suit.\n\nMost of the academics have regained consciousness by now, although your arrival slams most of them back into the sweet nothingness of sleep. You, too, almost fall unconscious, but the sight of an object embedded in the back of the craft startles you awake. \n \nMany of the rats you threw into the Sun were consumed, destroyed, burned. A few survived, somehow; they fused together in the heat of the starfire, forming... a sword. The Excalibrat. Yank the blade out from your ship; a handle forms from the melted remains. This is a sword with a purpose.\n<<set $Excalibrat to 1>>\nYou've gained 1 x Excalibrat (new total <<print $Excalibrat>>).\n\n[[Return below, with a sense of destiny|Mission Select 2]]

The Marine's eyes widen when he sees you produce the parcel of rats. He hears out your story, at the very least, but then just shakes his head. "Sorry, but the Dawn Machine is absolutely off limits. Completely. You shouldn't even be here. But... listen, give me those rats and you'll at least get home safe.\n\nYou don't really see any other options, here, and you did already offer him the rats. Not long later, you're skipping over the waves in a Navy steam-clipper. These things are fast.\n\nYou blearily disembark at Wolfstack Docks, head spinning. A Ministry of Public Decency operative stares at you from a nearby shadow. It's a very expressive stare. It says "Speak one word of this to anyone, and you'll be [REDACTED]."\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\n<<set $Rat -=100>>\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 100 x Unstrung Rat (new total <<print $Rat>>).\n\n[[Meekly go deliver some letters|Going Postal]]\n[[Go back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]

<<set $Cards -=1>>\nYou stoop down, pressing your card into the Rubbery's rubbery arm. It looks at it for a few moments, then stuffs it into a suit pocket. Then, slowly but surely, it begins to haul itself to its feet, like a horrendous creature rising from a nightmare's depths.\n\nThe spooky effect is altogether ruined by it squonking happily at you. You'd say it almost looked pleased, if you were able to discern the emotions of squid. There is an awkward pause, filled largely with distressing squelching noises.\n<<if $Cramber is 0>>\nThe squelches cease. The Rubbery appears to have procured a rather large lump of amber; you don't think you'd like to know where from. Still, it is the season of giving... and it would be discourteous to refuse a gift, even from a strange wobbling octopus thing. You accept it with something approaching gratitude.\n\nIt shines red, green, gold... like a Surface Christmas tree. When you hold it, you feel hopeful, joyous, festive. Keep it safe.\n<<set $Cramber +=1>>\n<<set $Postal +=6>>\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\n\nYou've gained 1 x Ambermas (new total 1).\nYou've lost 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Cards>>).\nYou've gained 6 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n<<else>>\nThe squelches cease. The Rubbery produces a bouquet of rats, arranged neatly. How, er, nice. Festive.\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\n<<set $Rat +=200>>\n\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Cards>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 200 x Unstrung Rat (new total <<print $Rat>>).\n<<endif>>\n\n[[Your business here is concluded; time to begin the trek upwards.|Depths Above]]

"Well, I told you, the Royal Male sorts out all the mail. It's protocol."\n\nYou explain you're more interested in the specifics; why it was built, what it has to do with protocol, all that sort of stuff.\n\n"Well, um, that stuff's supposed to be top secret. But you're another postman, so I think I can trust you. That statue was built by the first visitors to the island. I no idea who it's supposed to represent, but it's always been called the Royal Male."\n\n"It has always been protocol to give things to the Royal Male for processing. Even back in London, right? It may have been differently royal, and a different mail, but the concept is the same. And without protocol we have nothing."\n\nHmm. There's a mystery there, but you're not sure you'll be able to untangle it. Other questions present themselves.\n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[Why so many rats?|Rattsey]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

The journey upwards is much harder, and your candle is much dimmer. You do what you can to keep it burning; fortunately, it never entirely goes out. The uphill march gives you time to ruminate on your trip below...\n<<set $Postal +=14>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 14 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\nThe lights and sounds of London seem impossibly intense when you finally reach the surface. Still, you have a job to do. The walls of the Royal Mail say so.\n\n[[Onto the streets!|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Mail|Mission Select 2]]

You barely even have time to generate a monosyllabic numberthought when the craft roars into life, slingshotting you up above the clouds at relatively improbable speeds. Flares of colour the Surface has never seen spread out behind you; Violant, Cosmogone, Apocyan... the stars will glare them to nothing, you've been told, but the colour isn't the important part. A clutch of bizarre cinders, drenched ambers and extremely hazardous compounds spit raw energy at the ground, firing you up into the chill darkness of the void. Fortunately, you do not explode. \n\nThe Earth stretches out far behind you, green and gold and white and blue. It curves into a ball, shrinks, and is gone in a matter of moments.\n\nYou hang in the spaces between the star and the planet, like a gull gliding over the sea. The Sun's light washes over you, like you are a very lost gull stuck in the sea somehow. This place is a haven of metaphor and simile; move on, before you come up with something that'd cause a poet to combust.\n\nTime passes. You begin to wish that you'd brought a cold drink or something. It's a long trip, and there's nothing to even really look at besides the occasional floating rock and not the Sun. You don't not avoid looking at the Sun several times.\n\nEventually, the engine begins to slow. This close to the Sun, not even the Neath-rock casing can protect it.\n\nThe Sun is close, but its size makes judging distances difficult... still, you don't think you have a good chance of hitting from here.\n[[Drift closer|Icarus]]\n[[Toss the cards at it|Missed, pal]]\n<>\n<<if $Samber is 1>>\n[[Toss the Bazaar's Echo at it|Courier's Dream]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Toss rats at it|Missed, pal 3]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Unclear >=1>>\n[[Toss your orb at it|Mist, pal]]\n<<endif>> \n<<endnobr>>

"No, I'm sorry, but I can't accept. No gifts from outsiders without approval from the Royal Mail. Protocol again, I'm afraid."\n\nOh well. Hopefully you don't have to pay some important tax on them.\n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why so many rats?|Rattsey]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

You resign yourself to just lazing about in bed all day, every day, forever. After all, nobody cares about you enough to even bother sending you a Christmas Card!\n\nThat night, a torrent of rats buries your Lodgings of Indistinct Quality. Yes, even if you live way up on a stalactite. \n\nWhen you discover this, you become so miserable that you spontaneously decompose. Your ratomb is discovered by a squad of Sixth City archaeologists, who note your final resting place down as an area of ritual significance.\n\nGAME OVER\n[[RESTART?|Start]]

Luckily enough, it's nighttime by the time you arrive at Avernus, the point where the Neath meets the Surface via the Canal. Even with the Sun in hiding, it's still almost unbearably bright, and a nagging feeling at the back of your mind makes you think you're about to fall upwards every time you look at the sky.\n\nReally, it's just as well you're doing this under cover of darkness; it means the Sun will be less bright when you get there. That's how this all works, right?\n\nYour craft waits at a field not far from Naples; a gaggle of academics from the University have already prepared a launch site, performed the necessary calculations, whispered hopeful prayers to ward against explosions and collapsed in a panic by the time you get there. One of the few remaining conscious souls shakes your hand, and cautiously advises you not to look directly at the Sun. You'll try not to.\n\n[[Time to get suited up|Suitable]]

<<if $Samber is 0>>\nYou carefully place the festive Amber you obtained in Flute Street into a small lacre pool, then slash your finger open on a jagged-edged envelope. Ow! Ow! \nIt's okay, though; you needed to do this. Instinct guides you as you drop blood onto the slowly-sinking amber. Then, you toss in the cards intended for the Bazaar in as well. The lacre froths, boils, bubbles; shapes form in the lacre. Hatred, passion, disgust, obsession, betrayal; they take shapes, formed from the fuel you provided. They don't last long, but they sear themselves deep into your mind. Eventually, the last card sinks deep below the surface, and the bubbling ceases.\n\nThe amber begins to sink too, slowly at first. It never entirely disappears. The lacre froths around it, but never totally claims it. After a few moments...\n\nThe amber shoots straight into the air! But you expected this; the Bazaar told you so. You lean forward, plucking it from the air. It has lost its festive lustre now, but something else has replaced it; an optimistic echo, that all shall be well, all manner of thing shall be well, that this Christmas shall be well. Merry, too. Of course, not in those exact words; in reality, it echoes with an alien thought, something that should be totally incomprehensible to you. But, well, it's not. Something has changed.\n\nYou reemerge from the Wicket, the white-and-black lump of hope resonating strongly in your hand. There's only one place this can go, now, but you'll find that out when you get there.\n<>\n<<set $Cramber =0>>\n<<set $Samber =1>>\n<<set $Postal +=35>>\n<<set $Menace +=10>>\n<<endnobr>>\nYou've gained 1 x Bizarre Echo (new total 1).\nYou've lost 1 x Ambermas (new total 0).\nYou've gained 35 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n<<else>>\nYou carefully place the festive Amber you obtained in Flute Street into a small lacre pool, then slash your finger open on a jagged-edged envelope. Ow! Ow! \nIt's okay, though; you needed to do this. Instinct guides you as you drop blood onto the slowly-sinking amber. Then, you toss in the cards intended for the Bazaar in as well. The lacre froths, boils, bubbles; shapes form in the lacre. Hatred, passion, disgust, obsession, betrayal; they take shapes, formed from the fuel you provided. They don't last long, but they sear themselves deep into your mind. Eventually, the last card sinks deep below the surface, and the bubbling ceases.\n\nThe amber begins to sink too, slowly at first. It never entirely disappears. The lacre froths around it, but never totally claims it. After a few moments...\n\nIt sinks entirely! But truths and mysteries bubble up, buoyed by the hope that all shall be well. You feel... reassured.\n<>\n<<set $Cramber =0>>\n<<set $Postal +=45>>\n<<set $Menace =0>>\n<<endnobr>>\nYou've lost 1 x Ambermas (new total 0).\nYou've gained 45 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYour 'Going Postal' quality has gone!\n\nYou emerge out onto the street, filled with hope. \n<<endif>>\n[[The people on the streets still need your deliveries|Going Postal]]\n[[To the Post Office. Perhaps you can end this now.|Mission Select 2]]

The Tiger Keeper reclines on a chaise-longue. He has a rather nice hat.\n"Ah, yes, the ambitious postman. What do you have for me? It's not rats, is it?"\nYou suddenly become aware of the multitude of stains all over the carpet. Perhaps you should be tactful.\n\n[[Just hand over the Christmas Cards|Tiger Card]]\n<<if $Rat >= 100>>\n[[Hand over Cards, and something a little extra|Tiger Anger]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >= 100>>\n[[Hand over Cards, and something a lot extra|either("Tiger Awe","Tiger Anger 2")]]\n<<endif>>

A clearing! At last! You pant and gasp, trying to catch your breath...\n\nOh. Oh dear.\n\nA huge webbed figure stands before you, towering overhead. You stare.\nThousands of eyes stare back. You'd almost say they looked... bemused?\n\nA voice! "Do you have something for us?"\n\n[[Yes! Take these Christmas Cards!|Council Joy]]\n[[Um... no. In fact, you'll just be going|Council Run]]

The Tiger Keeper looks expectantly at you as you place the Christmas Cards on a side table. His eyes widen as you produce a Rat of Glory from your postbag. "Good heavens! I'd thought these had all been claimed by the Scuttering Squad or burnt up in enigmatic fires. And you're just going to give it to me? Remarkable! I'll make an exception just this once. Actually, no, that's a lie; I'll make an exception for any of these things you can find. Pull up a chair... there's probably one that doesn't have too much blood on it somewhere"\n\nYou begin to sit down, when the Rat of Glory awakens! A Rattus Faber master-thief shakes off a thin layer of wax, tosses away a false wick and dives at the Tiger Keeper!\n\nThe battle is not so one-sided as you may think. The Assassin is trained in many combative arts, and is small and quick besides. The Tiger is lithe and powerful, but much slower than the tiny rodent. The Assassin lands many blows on the Keeper, ducking and leaping all over the cramped office.\n\nThe Keeper realises that there's no way that he'll ever be able to catch the rat, so he changes tactic. Opening his maw wide, he bellows an impossible sound; it brings to mind ancient caged beasts, hopelessness, entrapment. This dazes the Assassin long enough for him to pop it in his mouth. Crunch, crunch.\n\nThe Keeper dismisses you, under strict orders to make sure any further Glorious Rats aren't fakes. You have absolutely no idea how to tell. And you have a massive headache besides. The gate guard wisely leaves you alone.\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\n<<set $Menace +=15>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 15 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\nWhere next?\n[[Back onto the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]\n

[[Thr-HURK!]]

You carefully place the bundle of cards onto the statue's base, taking care not to accidentally bump a candle or one of the many, many piles of rats. Off to the side, you leave your own parcel of rats, freshly imported from London.\n\nSecrets flood into your mind; betrayed messages, conspiracy in darkness, words unsaid, things unsent, unfound truths, the contents of unrecovered parcels, the taxes of the sky... You forget them as suddenly as they arrived, but some things cling nevertheless. Not all of them are things you really wanted to hear...\n<<set $Postal +=30>>\n<<set $Menace +=11>>\nYou've gained 30 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 11 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nIt occurs to you that you don't really need to actually return to London. This island is a haven for postmen (and rats); it doesn't seem so bad, on the whole. You could just stay.\n\n[[Go home|Rat Back 3]]\n[[Stay here, the true home of postmen|Nuncio End]]

[[Four!]]

The norther you go, the darker everything gets. The sky dulls from a dim mauve to a dark violet. The rats darken to an endless plain of black. Even the air seems to be fading into darkness.\n\nEventually, nothing is left but blackness. Absolute darkness; but, just ahead of you, something even darker awaits. If you walk forward, you will never see London again, you know this for certain. But... perhaps you never would have. Maybe this dark hole in reality is your only hope for survival. Maybe it will end you, entirely, forever. There's only one way to find out!\n\n[[Turn back, south. You think it was South? Not North, anyway.|Rat Area 3]]\n[[Enter the abyss|Rat Zone 1]]

Legal, properly-licensed Christmas Cards issue from the Paper Door of the Bazaar. By what mechanism are they produced? You have a sudden, terrible vision of Mr Pages sat dourly behind a desk, clutching a jar of glitter and a pen. Well, it'd make sense... the word "Merrificent" is not one used often. Some say the Bazaar itself sends cards to those it finds worthy... though you think the Masters are probably involved with that, too.\n\nMany of the city's more eccentric residents are rather fond of the Bazaar; some might even consider it their passion. Some of these envelopes have strange, curling symbols in lieu of an address. They bring to mind strange, dark cold spaces, and baleful glares from the thrones of heaven...\n\nYou're interrupted by your reverie by a loud blast, a shockwave, a flash of darkness! You rush forward, through the Sidestreets, towards the Bazaar.\n\nHm. Well, you haven't seen the Paper Door before but you're fairly sure it's not supposed to be tremendously cracked. Most of the paper has been scorched or blasted away to boot. Maybe you should just knock?\n\nPolice whistles! Special Constables and Neddy Men dash across the bridge from the House of Chimes, headed your way! If you're going to do something, do it fast!\n\n[[Knock]]\n[[Hide in the nearest shop|Penstock]]\n[[Surrender!|Trunchin']]

The path to Flute Street consists mostly of miles of deeply-sloped darkness, lit only by a solitary candle. Your solitary candle, as it happens. It's a pretty big candle.\nOccasionally, you see suspicious shapes dance in the shadows. Possibly, there was a slug.\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\nAha! Amber light, just ahead. You must be almost there!\n\nSuddenly; you are stopped by a pair of Rubbery gatekeepers! Keepers of something, anyway. They have a keepersy look.\nThey demand... well, something that sounds like a wet mop being shaken violently, as far as you can make out. The fact that you're unable to present whatever they're flailing about seems to be a source of great distress.\n\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Present a present|Street Flute]]\n[[Shrug, go home|Depths Above]]

The Tiger Keeper looks expectantly at you. .You place a stack of Christmas Cards on a side table, hands shaking. \n"Oh, is that all? Pity. I was hoping I'd get to sharpen my claws", the Tiger Keeper yawns. "Well, don't let me keep you waiting. I'm sure you have plenty of things to deliver. On you go."\n<<set $Postal += 5>>\n<<set $Menace += 2>>\nYou've gained 5 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nAlmost anticlimatic. It's like he was expecting you to bring some rats. Oh well, whatever. You edge your way past the tiger at the gates, who glowers at you for not buying a ticket.\n\n[[Back to regular duty|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]

What you see is something that may once have been a man. Whatever he is now, he is a man no longer; men generally do not have putrid green, swelling flesh, oozing and bulging with strange fluids. \n\nStill, you have a duty to do. You boldly march over and hand the shuddering beast a single letter. It smells of desert sands and of cats.\n\nOkay, that's done... now you can...\nRun!\n\n<<set $Postal +=11>>\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\nYou've gained 11 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nYou emerge, panting, into the gaslamp-light of the Palace's exterior. Wait a moment to catch your breath, and then...\n\n[[Back out onto the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

The Postmaster looks dejected when you refuse her offer, but you've had altogether enough of this whole couriering business. You've delivered enough to last you several lifetimes. Maybe you should hire servants to deliver things for you in future.\n\nIn the days and weeks to come, you begin advocating for better treatment for the city's postmen. You may not want to deliver anything again personally, but you'd prefer that the city's messengers are much better treated than they are now. You successfully negotiate for reduced hours, hazard pay, improved benefits, anything to make the life of the courier more comfortable.\n\nYou even build a tremendous, fancy retirement home on Nuncio, designed to ensure that postmen are treated well long after they finally leave London for good. They're provided with plenty of rats, of course. By the door, a plaque is inscribed; "The Messenger's Rest".\n\nThis is an ending! Perhaps not the best ending, but a pretty good ending. You've changed the face of the Neath forever, in your own way.\n\nGAME END. [[Restart?|Start]]

This time, you have time to take in your surroundings. To the South, the Elder Continent shimmers, green and gold and mushroomy. To the Southwest... no, no, look away. It's not time yet.\n\nBehind you; a shining glorious rock, facted with crystals. This brilliant geode has been converted into a Navy base; docks, doors, ships. And a stern-faced Royal Marine, gazing right at you. Oh dear.\n\n[[Explain your mission|Public Indecency]]\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Explain your mission, and proffer some rats|Public Decency]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >= 1>>\n[[Explain your mission, and proffer an exceptional rat|Geode Dude 2]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Cards >=1>>\n[[Explain your mission, offer a Christmas Card|Geode Dude]]\n<<endif>>\n[[Run!|either("Public Indecency","A Narrow Escape")]]

The blindfolded man coughs again. Then; a growling noise behind you. You whip around; your tramp-steamer is leaving! Wave and shout though you might, it zails off West, never to return.\nThe man chuckles.\n\n\nYou spend the rest of your days on the Rocks, a humble silk-trader. Soon, your days in London become a fog, buried underneath days of web and silk. Perhaps, one day, you become a spider-cultist, giving of your eyes to become a Weaver. Maybe you smuggle aboard another steamship, and are lost at zee. Possibly you rebel, one day, trying to burn down the Nativity and every spider in it. You might even succeed.\n\nBut you never return to London, and you certainly never receive another Christmas Card in your life.\n\nThis is an ending! Next time, possibly don't try to get in a staring contest with a blindfolded man.

Nothing happens! The pair of you laugh heartily at your suspicious glares, and resume your festive carousing.\nYou rest for a little while in the glow of the Far-Travelled Collector's fire, and then head back outside, ready to face the world.\n<<set $Postal +=9>>\n<<set $Menace -=7>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\n\nYou've gained 9 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\n[[Back out on delivery duty|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]

You carefully place the bundle of cards onto the statue's base, taking care not to accidentally bump a candle or one of the many, many piles of rats. Then, you place one of your own cards off to the side. Just to test a principle.\n\nSecrets flood into your mind; betrayed messages, conspiracy in darkness, words unsaid, things unsent, the parcels that never came... You forget them as suddenly as they arrived, but some truths cling nevertheless. Not all of them are things you really wanted to hear...\n<<set $Postal +=25>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\n<<set $Card -=1>>\nYou've gained 25 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lose 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Card>>).\n\n\nIt occurs to you that you don't really need to actually return to London. This island is a haven for postmen (and rats); it doesn't seem so bad, on the whole. You could just... stay.\n\n[[Go home|Rat Back 2]]\n[[Stay here, the true home of postmen|Nuncio End]]

You return home, at long last. Some kind soul has cleared your path for you; unfortunately, your entranceway is clogged with rats. You don't really have anyone to blame for this but yourself, on reflection. Swiping the Excalibrat through all of these is unlikely to help much. Fortunately, your shovel has miraculously remained unstolen; you carve a path into your house. You can tidy it up later. \n\nThe Excalibrat looks marvellous hanging above your fireplace; it also makes a convenient firestarter, being a sword of flame and all that. You enjoy a cup of highly festive egg-hot, and listen. The sound of Christmas Cards being pushed through your letterbox continues long into the day. It is a pleasing thing to be loved.\n\nThis is an ending! Perhaps not the best ending, but a pretty good ending nevertheless. Peace, rats, cards, swords. It's the simple things.\n\nGAME END. [[RESTART?|Start]]

Most people would fall head over heels just to get a sip of the legendary Hesperidian Cider; for you, it's just another slightly odd part of your day. It's been a pretty bizarre adventure, overall. You're assured that this isn't enough Cider for true immortality, but it should be enough to let you get to the Surface without melting on the spot. Maybe. Mr Apples makes no promises. \nYou suspect this may be some sort of sales tactic, but you don't have time to complain; your ship leaves for the Cumaean Canal in a few minutes. The Travertine Spiral is clogged with visitors at this time of year, and it's also massive and tiring; you need to save your strength for the solar ascent.\n\nThe Canal is not far from London; the trip is short enough that nothing interesting happens to you. Pity.\n\nThe Canal is a marvel of engineering; you have plenty of time to gawk as the ship slowly ascends through the waterlocks and gates to the [[Surface]].\n\n

The Scuttering Company Barge is ready to go when you are. The captain seems reasonably pleased with whatever deal she's managed to forge with the Nuncio Branch. \n\nThe zees are still as they were, fortunately. The ship cuts through the waves, speeding back to London in near-record time. There's still nowhere to sit, unfortunately. As you pace the decks, you spot an envelope on the floor. Hang on, that's one of your Christmas Cards! The one you left back at Nuncio, even. How in the hell...?\n<<set $Postal +=3>>\n<<set $Card +=1>>\nYou brace yourself as the ship comes in to dock... but it doesn't dock at all! It slams straight into the side of the harbour, tearing a tremendous gash in the hull. Engineers chitter anxiously, bounding for the safety of the docks. The boat begins to capsize- leap ashore, quickly!\n\nA rat hangs his head low as the ship sinks below the waves. He is reprimanded by the captain; not harshly, but you feel sorry for him anyway. The braking system needs more work, evidently. At present, it's more of a breaking system.\n\nThe rat captain offers you a handshake; it's all she can really do, given that her cargo is currently scraping the zeefloor. It'll do.\n\nYou've gained 3 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Card>>).\n\nNow, then, what shall you do next?\n[[Hit the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Go back to the Royal Male. I mean, uh, Mail|Mission Select 2]]

The Scuttering Company Barge is ready to go when you are. The captain seems reasonably pleased with whatever deal she's managed to forge with the Nuncio Branch. As your ship pulls out of harbour, you spot a figure waving happily from the dock. Hey, that's your friend from earlier! You grin happily as the ship speeds out of Rattsey.\n\nThe zees are still as they were, fortunately. The ship cuts through the waves, speeding back to London in near-record time. There's still nowhere to sit, unfortuantely. \nYou brace yourself as the ship comes in to dock... but it doesn't dock at all! It slams straight into the side of the harbour, tearing a tremendous gash in the hull. Engineers chitter anxiously, bounding for the safety of the docks. The boat begins to capsize- leap ashore, quickly!\n\nA rat hangs his head low as the ship sinks below the waves. He is reprimanded by the captain; not harshly, but you feel sorry for him anyway. The braking system needs more work, evidently. At present, it's more of a breaking system.\n\nThe rat captain offers you a handshake; it's all she can really do, given that her cargo is currently scraping the zeefloor. It'll do.\n\nNow, then, what shall you do next?\n[[Hit the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Go back to the Royal Male. I mean, uh, Mail|Mission Select 2]]

You fast, you meditate. You could stay here forever, forever, like the pale lifeless wretch to your <<print either("right", "left")>>. Perhaps you should.\n<<set $Well +=7>>\n<<set $Menace +=17>>\nYou've gained 17 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n<<display 'The well'>>

The bony face of the Boatman leers at you as you fumble through your postbag. You find what you're looking for eventually; a few ornate-looking letters in fancy envelopes with addresses written in flowing cursive.\n\nNervously, you pass the cards to the Boatman. He takes one look at them, starts cackling, and tosses them over his shoulder, straight into the river.\n\nWell, that was worthwhile.\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nNow how are you going to get back?\n\n[[Chess]]\n[[Dice]]\n[[Charity]]\n[[Actually, you'll just stay here.|Deff]]

"Alright then. No need to bother with trying to elaborately off yourself; just visit the Carnival. There's a mirror there that leads straight to the Boatman... somehow. Don't worry too much about it; just try not to die for too long."\n\nTo the Carnival it is!\n\nThe Hall of Mirrors is strange; looking in the wrong mirror may cause worse things than death. Eventually, you find the one you're looking for; a strange panel smelling of blood. You look at your reflection; it seems normal at first. You lean in to get a closer look... and you fall straight through the mirror, landing bodily on a slow boat on a silent river.\n\nThis is the place, then.\n\n[[Hand over the cards|Death 3]]

<<if $Menace <= 50>> <<if $Menace < 0>> You're too sane! Too sane! <<set $Menace to 0>> <<endif>>\n"Ah, <<print $Name>>, you're back."\nThe Postmaster has A List. She checks it twice, then presents it to you, with a faintly worried look in her eyes. She won't even let you go to some of these places if she thinks you aren't capable enough.\n\nTaking on these missions will raise your Going Postal quality; if it gets too high, you may be unable to continue. However, they do provide more Gloom of Neath than standard deliveries, and possibly other rewards besides. Some options may be more involved than others. Raise your Gloom of Neath high enough, and you may finally be able to recover your Christmas Cards.\n\n<<if $Menace >=10>> You're beginning to have second thoughts about this whole postal thing. [[Maybe you should motivate yourself somehow.|Curative]]<<endif>>\n<>\n[[Just the usual rounds|Going Postal]]\n \n<<if $Postal >= 5>>[[The Royal Beth]]\n<<else>><s>The Royal Beth</s> - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 5 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 10>>[[The Baronet's Larder]]\n<<else>><s>The Baronet's Larder</s> - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 10 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $RoG >= 1>>[[What will you do with your Rat of Glory?|Glorious Delivery]] \n<<else>> \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Postal >= 15>>[[A slow boat|Dead]]\n<<else>><s>A slow boat</s> - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 15 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 25>>[[The Shuttered Palace]]\n<<else>><s>The Shuttered Palace</s> - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 25 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 30>>[[The Labyrinth of Tigers]]\n<<else>><s>The Labyrinth of Tigers</s> - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 30 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 40>>[[The Cave of the Nadir|either("The Cave of the Nadir","The Cave of the Nadir 2")]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 40 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 50>>[[Nuncio]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 50 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 65>>[[Saviour's Rocks]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 65 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 85>>[[Flute Street]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 85 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 100>>[[The Dawn Machine]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 100 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 125>>[[The Bazaar]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 125 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 150>>[[The Sun]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 150 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 177>>[[Winking Isle]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 177 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 190>>[[The Heart of the Ratpile]]\n<<else>>??? - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 190 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Postal >= 200>>[[Your Christmas Cards, At Long Last|Cards Get]] \n<<else>>Your Christmas Cards, At Long Last - Unlocked with Gloom of Neath 200 - you have <<print $Postal>>\n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n<<else>>\n<<if $Cramber is 1>>\nYou can't take this any more. The rats, the cards, the swimming sigil in your hindbrain dispensing addresses unceasingly. Tip your satchel out... wait. There's that amber you got, down in Flute Street. Perhaps you should take it with you.\n\nWhen you grab the amber, seasonal cheer floods through your veins, like the rats flooding the streets. You feel a little more resolved, surer, safer. Nuncio won't have you today!\n<<set $Menace -=10>>\n<<set $Cramber = 0>>\nYou've lost 1 x Ambermas (new total 0).\nYou've lost 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n[[Now, ah, where were we?|Going Postal]]\n<<else>>\nYou can't take this any more. The rats, the cards, the swimming sigil in your hindbrain dispensing addresses unceasingly. Enough! You need to get out of this city; no matter where you look, all you can think of are letters left unsent, parcels stamped, unsent, rats. \nYour tramp steamer leaves tonight. You understand, now. Nuncio waits.\n\nThe tramp steamer never arrives; the captain was an incompetent, and plowed headalong into <<print either("Rowena's Rocks","the nearest giant crab","an Albino Moray","Straight off the edge of the Zee, somehow","A Heptycheer","the side of Nuncio, slipping beneath the waves before you could make it ashore","Pigmote Island","London","Hunter's Keep","The High Gate of the Avid Horizon, journeying out far beyond the known zee","The well of the Chapel of Lights. It was very impressive","The Dawn Machine","Westergren's Fire","Irem, somehow","The Dubois Maelstrom","a tiny rock")>>. The ship was lost with all hands, and you never returned.\n\nBad end! Oh no! Maybe you can find some items to help... next time, next time.\n[[RESTART?|Start]]\n<<endif>>\n<<endif>>

These gaudy rectangles; they are nothing more than trinkets, anchors, symbols of your slavery to society. They have value, nevertheless, and the well is always hungry.\n<<set $Card -=1>>\n<<set $Well +=14>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Card>>).\n\n<<display "The well">>

You turn to enter your homestead once more, just in time to see a blob of lacre fall off your roof and block the entrance. Well, guess you're stuck.\n\n[[Gawk]]\n[[Attempt to find a co-operative postman|Postal Orders]]\n[[Dive into the huge ratdrift|The Ratpile]]\n[[Let's just go to the pub|The Medusa's Head]]

The uniforms of the Royal Mail have changed several times over the years, like islands at zee. These days, the postmen sport a fetching (to some, at least) blue and gold suit and a traditional peaked cap. Of course, given the [[new hazards]] postmen run into these days, some modifications have been made; steel underwiring for the hats, a layer of thick leather underneath the suit jacket, and a handy pouch for laudanum rations. \n\n\nAnyway, yes, the [[Grand Mailing List|Mission Select]] still waits.

You toss your satchel forward, praying that its gaudy contents will at least buy you favour.\nHundreds of spiders swarm over it, dragging the contents every which way, tearing open envelopes before your very eyes. Cards! Shining rectangles of festive joy... not all of which are genuine Bazaarine articles. Some envelopes contain nothing but rats; these are devoured in the blink of an eye, leaving only pitiful skeletons in paper wrappings.\n\n"Ah... yes. This will be satisfactory. Our Emissary will show you the way. Goodbye... and Merry Christmas."\nChittering! The sound of arachnid merriment. You've never seen sorrow-spiders look so joyous, except possibly when they've found an eyeball.\n\nA blindfolded man flanked by spiders leads you outside, back to your ship. The Festival is winding down, now, but you manage to grab a few bottles of Morelways lying unseen by a crate.\n\nWhen the captain asks where you went, you merely shudder.\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\n<<set $Postal +=18>>\nYou've gained 18 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Say nothing, and drink to forget|Zafe Zailing]]

The Neddies and Constables are on you in a flash, a whirl of sticks and truncheons. Fortunately, your satchel absorbs many of the blows, but it still hurts like hell. An officer hauls you to your feet, pulling you up to her eye level.\nYou brace yourself for an incredible yelling, when someone tugs at her collar. The actual culprit is lying a few feet away, sack full of bombs and pamphlets spilling out onto the street. \nYou escape with nothing more than a grumbling. Apparently, this revolutionary interrupted the Annual House of Chimes Constables Banquet; the irritation in the air is palpable. They'll have to wait for this one to come back from the River before they can put him to trial. And then kill him again, probably. Yeesh.\n\nThere's too much Constable activity now for you to risk doing anything near the Bazaar; maybe you should try again later.\n<<set $Postal +=4>>\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\nYou've gained 4 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Deliver near the Sidestreets, while you're here|Going Postal]]\n[[Go straight back to the Post Office|Mission Select 2]]

The Postmaster bolts upright when you mention "work", although she slumps a little when you clarify that you want Christmas Cards in return. It won't be easy to get them; but if you're willing to assist, then the Postmaster promises she'll get someone to at least look. Or pretend to look. Or...\n<<set $Postal to 1>>\n<<set $Menace to 1>>\nBefore she can condradict herself any further, the Postmaster hands you a [[uniform]] and pushes you off towards the [[Grand Mailing List|Mission Select]].\n\n\nAn occurrence! Your Going Postal quality is now 1!\nAn occurrence! Your Gloom of Neath quality is now 1!

Wait... where are you? \n\n\nThis isn't the Festival any more. Oh dear.\n\n\nYou get the distinct impression you've had altogether too much to drink.\n\n[[Fumble|either("Lost Rocks 2", "Council")]]\n

You grab two random letters from your satchel, shoving them towards the two baffled Rubberies. Maybe, by some coincidence, they're even the right cards. You doubt anyone involved can even tell.\n\nThe flopping noises change timbre; now they're more akin to a wet glove oscillating wildly. You take a few experimental steps forward- they do not attempt to stop you, or even try to do anything at all. You leave them staring in abject confusion at your gift of paper rectangles.\n\nThe reaction you get from the other Rubberies is roughly identical. Perplexed stares, a noise like a hosepipe caught in a drain, more perplexed stares. You feel like you've done some good, somehow.\n\nAs you prepare to leave, a Rubbery flops towards you, flooping in anguish. It makes wild wobbly gestures, practically falling over itself to try and make you look... [[over there.|A Fluke]]

The Royal Bethlehem Hotel is as eccentric as it is extravagant. You haul your satchel through the front door, and pass out cards to the expectant guests. One for you, sir, with the magnificent albeit suspicious collection of hats, one for the lady claiming to be the manifestation of a long-dead god, one for the individual pining for the memory of candles... and, ah, yes, here's one for the Manager himself. It smells of cut grass, moss, orchards, time.\nThe Manager smiles broadly as you present him the letter. Is that... hunger you can see in his eyes? You make for the door, not waiting for a response.\n\n<<set $Postal +=4>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\nYou've gained 4 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Back out on the usual rounds|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

You walk, jog, run, hop and do strange rolling movements, but in the end, you're still lost, totally lost, in a strange featureless rat wasteland.\n\n<<display "Rat Area 3">>

jquery:off\nhash:off\nbookmark:on\nmodernizr:off\nundo:on\nobfuscate:off\nexitprompt:off\nblankcss:off\n

"Well, you know the legend," His voice takes a sing-song tone. "Postmen fleeing across the zee, seeking solace in Rattsey. Well, I got sick of carrying invitations left and right for trivial things... I decided I'd start ripping open envelopes, selling the contents to blackmailers and rumourmongers. Not all messages get delivered, do they?"\n\n"But then one day, I opened a letter and it was just... vile. It was like a bad batch of Rubbery Lumps, you know what I mean? It was from one noted high-society dame to a fresh-faced archaeologist who just made his first major discovery. Something about it just made me feel... empty. Like the city had nothing for me any more."\n\n"I sold almost everything I had, bought passage on a tramp-steamer. Stole one of the lifeboats. I decided I'd let the currents decide my fate... and, well, here I am. Coincidence or fate? I only got here a few months ago, but I rather like it here. It's like a community, you know?"\n\nMaybe you do. What else would you like to know?\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why so many rats?|Rattsey]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

You clamber into the crate; and not a moment too soon, because a pair of burly Navy men burst into the room and start hefting things ashore. Neither of them even notice the extra weight when they lift your crate aloft.\n\nSpeaking of your crate; it's full of beetles! Much more lustrous than the usual London sorts; these ones shine with the radiance of a Surface sunrise... Still, you don't have time to gawk. You wait for the thunderous footsteps of the zailors to fade away, and emerge from the crate.\n\nA burst of light from the South! Back in the crate! Back in the crate!\n\n[[Emerge once more, with an extra layer of caution|Geode 2]]

It's a long line. Get comfortable.\n<<print either("Rats. Always with the rats","A postman tips his peaked cap to you","Someone has taken something from the statue! They are chased off the island, evidently a stranger to Nuncio's customs","A Rat Barge locked in deadly battle with a dreadnought! The barge flees, outgunned","A Rat Barge destroys a corvette! The squeaks of victory can be heard even from here","A rat offers to sell you a fine watch, but you're short on Echoes","Whispering..","False-stars twinkle, far above. Legend has it that one of the constellations you can see here resembles some kind of rodent","Furious squeaking! Two of the Scuttering Company's Nuncio Regiment brawl on the docks","You see your postman friend from earlier, standing in line with a double-armful of rats","Rodents run rings around you.","The line's moving awfully slowly; someone really ought to kickstart it","A zubmarine passes! You catch a glimpse of a red-haired woman through one of the portholes.","Chittering from the shadows","Step cautiously over the candles; you hear strange things about them, now and then")>>.\n[[Shuffle, shuffle, cough|Wait in line]]\n<<if visited() % 10 is 0>>\n[[You're up! Time to leave whatever it is you're leaving.|Nuncio's Nuncio]]\n<<endif>>

When you read "The Shuttered Palace", you thought that you'd be delivering to courtiers, servants, maybe the Duchess or the Empress' handmaid. Not so. Instead, the sigil leads you to the dark sub-basements of the palace, a labyrinthine maze of locks and dead ends. Strangely, the doors open at barely a touch. You recall the slogan emblazoned on the Post Office's exterior; possibly not even septuple-locked doors can stay this brave messenger from their duty.\n\nAfter many twists and turns, you arrive at a door. It looks no different to any of the other doors you've passed, but you know that this is The Place.\n[[You cautiously push your way in to find...|either("Cantigaster","Empress' Child")]]

Ah! It was trying to nudge you towards those pools, over there. Some manner of Rubbery bathing area? You hand the Rubbery a card, by way of thanks, and set off towards the water.\n\nOh. Well, uh, these aren't baths at all!\n\nIn each of the pools, an enormous spiked creature rolls and tumbles, squirting vast amounts of ink into the water. The Rubbery you met earlier squamously makes its way towards you, brandishing its card. With a flourish, it tosses the letter into one of the pools!\n\nAlmost immediately, the creature within stops thrashing and settles back into place. Was that a fluke, or what?\n\nThe Rubbery gestures at you, at the pools, at you again. You raise an eyebrow; it raises its tentacles, and makes a sound like a distressed whirlpool. It attempts to snatch your satchel, but its legs get tangled, and it collapses in a heap in front of you.\n\nThe Rubbery stares pitifully up at you, burbling quietly... but you think you know what it wants, now.\n<<set $Postal +=6>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\nYou've gained 6 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal(new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Start dropping cards in the pools|Fluke 2]]\n[[Just go home|Depths Above]]\n\n

The depradations of the Courier! Betrayal of the betrayer of messages' messages. Ah yes.\n<<set $Well +=70>>\n<<set $Samber -=1>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Bizarre Echo (new total 0).\n\n<<display "The well">>

Finally! Now's your chance to submit something to the Royal Mail for processing. This close, the statue seems impossibly tall... it strikes a chill into your heart. How do they get used to living in the shadow of such a thing?\n<>\n[[Just the cards.|Delivery]] \n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[The cards, and a present for your postman friend.|Ratlivery]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Card >=1>>\n[[One of your own cards|Cardlivery]]\n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>

The man coughs, quietly. It dawns on you that you're veritably surrounded by spiders.\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Leave while you can|Zafe Zailing]]\n[[Keep staring|Rock Off]]\n

<><<if visited("Mope")>> After sadly moping around your house <<print visited("Mope")>> times, you embark on your quest to figure out why exactly you haven't received any cards whatsoever. <<endif>><<else>> \n<<if $Chill is 1>> You calmly set out on your quest to determine where all your Cards have gone.<<endif>>\n<<if $Mad is 1>> You angrily set out on your quest to determine where your Cards have gone.;<<endif>>\n<<if $Chill is 0 and $Mad is 0>>You boldly set out on your quest to discover why you haven't received any Cards.<<endif>><<endnobr>>\n\nAs expected, the streets outside are clogged with thick Neath-snow; lacre. Some say it's the secretions of a giant crab. At the moment, though, all you care about is getting it out of the way of your door.\n\n[[SHOVEL]]\n\n\n

"This isn't strictly a delivery mission; more like an acquisition one", the Postmaster explains. "The Scuttering Squad have been operating out of a larder in Watchmaker's Hill for quite some time now. We're on fairly good terms with them; we'd like you to see if you can get them to hand over a Rat of Glory or two. Oh, yes, they're not just a myth; the Scuttering Squad has the biggest stash of them in London. Be careful, though; they also distribute fakes. Do try to make sure you get a real one."\n"And... I do know I said this wasn't a delivery mission, but there are some cards for Hillock and his crew. Their mercenary companies are very popular with a certain sort."\n\n[[Off you go, then.|Larder 2]] Bring plenty of diplomatic wiles.\n

All shall be well. You paid a high price to learn this, on that far-off desparate spit of land. Why can't everyone else see that? Only a scant few people seem to realise the truth.\n\nOn your travels, you've heard of a safe haven, a place where wells are venerated as they should be. Not Mutton Island- it's close, but tradition is only the shadow of devotion. No, you need to go further North.\n\nNobody in their right mind would go near Void's Approach; it's dark, far, Mt Nomad devours the unwary, it's cold... the place is dangerous, badly regarded. But it's where you need to go. You get the captain of a tramp-steamer headed for Whither stinking drunk, and he zails you straight there. Shame about his ship.\n\nYou feast at the Chapel; the meat is rich and red. Some might say a little too red... but you are no longer one of those people. You establish a base of operations at the Chapel, journeying out to collect hopefuls from all over the zee. Mutton Island, Codex, Nuncio, escaped Varchaasi, Venderbight, even London. \n\nThey gather at the Chapel; the initiation is harsh. You have them spend a night with the well, a night in the well, alternating for a week. The Priest had no say in this; after what you did to him, he'll never have any say again. Your congregation grows, like corpse-fungus.\n\nPerhaps some day, the whole Neath will be lit by a certain number of candles...\n\n\nThis is an ending! Perhaps not the best ending, but a pretty good ending. You've changed the face of the Neath forever, in your own way.\n\nGAME END. [[RESTART?|Start]]\n

The trip to the Marsh is slow, mournful. Both of you have lost many, many things. But somewhere in the emptiness, a tiny hope still remains. The hope that all may still be well, in the end.\n<<set $Postal +=30>>\n<<set $Allwell to 1>>\nYou've gained 30 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nA twist in your tale! Your 'All shall be well...' quality is now 1!\n\n\nYour hands are cut, scarred from clutching the lip of the well. Your memory fades like a drop of ink in the sea. Was it a dream? A nightmare? An imagining, brought on by despair and tiredness? \n\nYou tell yourself it was. You know it was not. All shall be well. A reckoning shall not be postponed. You have work to do.\n\n[[Try and bury the memory with tedium|Going Postal]]\n[[Perhaps it's time to end this. The Royal Mail waits.|Mission Select 2]]

The Postmaster looks up at you, more concerned than normal. "Some brave fool has decided they want to send Death a Christmas Card. We're dedicated to making sure the mail always gets through, so we have to honour it. Are you sure you're up for it?"\n\n[[No, actually|Mission Select 2]]\n[[Hell yeah!|Death 2]]

Far across the wide black zee, sorrow-spiders, cultists and silk-merchants coexist in almost-peaceful harmony. Distant though it is, it still has ties to London; and, well, it's Christmas everywhere. Someone has to make the delivery, and that someone is you.\n\nThe voyage East is long, and mostly uneventful, save for a close shave with <<print either("a shoal of Bound-Sharks","a daring Khaganian trimaran","the biggest crab you've ever seen","a (fortunately inattentive) Lorn-Fluke","a rock","the Pirate Poet","corsairs","falling stalactites","a crewmember possessed by Storm","a whirlpool","a broken engine","a contagious nightmare","suspicious coral","a really, really big crab","Mt Nomad! An attempted shortcut through Void's Approach was cut short by its arrival. Fortunately, you manage to shake it off","a minor mutiny")>> not far from <<print either("the Principles of Coral","Nuncio","the Salt Lions","the Uttershroom","the Chelonate","the Gant Pole","Mt. Palmerston","the Sea of Lilies","a dark, cold and spacious expanse","a really huge eye, which was more terrifying than your pursuer, but thankfully remained static","the Melting Isles","Visage","an uncharted island! No time to stop, sadly")>>. Fortunately, the captain is a hardened veteran, and the ship escapes mostly unscathed. \n\nStill, you contemplate how close you came to your end as Saviour's Rocks rises on the horizon. It would have been rather ignominous to die in the process of delivering to spiders.\n<<set $Menace += 2>>\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[The ship docks; you disembark.|either("Plain Rocks", "Festival Rocks")]]

There's not much to see here, but perhaps you can learn something...\n\n<<print either("A postman walks by. He seems to have gone postal. Heh.","A Rattus Faber is here. It is terrified.","Some of the rats... move","A Rubbery Postman lunges at you! It makes flolloping sounds with its tentacles, gesturing wildly, before collapsing at your feet. It sinks into the ground, and you do not see it ever again.","An egg? It hatches; a rat crawls out? You remain utterly confused.","A pillar of rats lands beside you, and slowly burrows into the ground.","Above; a winged creature, like a rodent nightmare.","The sky flickers and turns magenta, just for a moment.","A ray of light brushes your hand. For a moment, you think it turned you into a rat... but only a moment","You see someone. They do not see you. They never will.","A glob of lacre falls from the sky, turning to vapour as it hits the ground.","You regret now. You regret. Ratgret.","Rats. Rats rats rats. Rat rats rat rat rat rats. Rats.","A scrap of paper! 'The Rat Codes' is written across the top. Sadly, whatever it was attached to has long been lost.")>>\n\n[[Keep standing around|Rat Gawk]]\n[[Stop standing, start going|Rat Area 3]]

No. This is your place, now. One rises, another falls. Take your place by the well. You shall remain here, for now. For ever? Maybe so. Someone must tend the Well House.\n\nPerhaps some day, the next year, a postman performs the same ministrations as you, meditating on the well, delivering cards. Maybe they leave, maybe they take your place. Maybe nobody ever comes, and you huddle around the well for the rest of your life. Maybe Winking Isle becomes flooded with pilgrims, venerating the well with their numbers and with their spirit. Maybe none of these things happen. \n\nYour reckoning may come, one day. One day. Its postponement is not indefinite. Your ending, however, comes now.

In the places between stars... no, no, this memory is not for you. The well has its own secrets.\n<<set $Well +=49>>\n<<set $Cramber to 0>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Ambermas (new total <<print $Cramber>>).\n\n<<display 'The well'>>

Spacemarine9\n

The nearest building happens to be Penstock's, the city's premier land agency. Pressed hard against the Bazaar's flank, it's known for having mostly reasonable prices and modest amounts of reliability. The constables may still be on your tail, though; maybe you should ask Penstock for assistance.\n<>\n<<if $Rat >= 100>>\n[[Bribe him with rats|Nostock 1]]\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $RoG >= 1>>\n[[Bribe him with a really big rat|Nostock 2]]\n<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Cards >=1>>\n[[Give him one of your Christmas Cards|Nostock 3]]\n<<endif>>\n \n[[Tell him about your Mission|Yestock]]\n \n[[Walk outside and surrender|Trunchin']]\n<<endnobr>>

The Sun is distressingly close now. You feel like you could almost reach out and grab it.\n\n[[Drift closer|Crispy]]\n[[Toss the cards at it|Sunmas]]\n<>\n<<if $Samber is 1>>\n[[Toss the Bazaar's Echo at it|Courier's Dream]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Toss rats at it|Ratmasun]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Unclear >=1>>\n[[Toss your orb at it|THE LIBERATION OF NIGHT]]\n<<endif>> \n<<endnobr>>

After a few minutes of frantic shovelling, a path begins to form. And that's when your expectations encounter the unexpected. You expected to see... well, more snow, you suppose. Instead, what you see is rats. <s>Hundreds</s> <s>thousands</s>... no, hundreds of thousands of them! It's like a great glacier has rolled across London's streets, except the glacier is rats. Glacierat.\n\nPostmen, postwomen, postpeople and the occasional postsquid scarper to and fro in front of, around and sometimes on top of the giant rat flow. Maybe one of them can help with your tragic dilemma?\n\n[[Go back indoors|Rejected]]\n[[Gawk]]\n[[Attempt to find a co-operative postman|Postal Orders]]\n[[Dive into the huge ratdrift|The Ratpile]]\n[[Let's just go to the pub|The Medusa's Head]]

Not the Medusa's Head for you tonight. You deserve something a little more upmarket.\nAfter spending some time boozing with your postal compatriots, you feel a little more secure about your grand holy postal mission. Still, all that boozing has made you forget a few of your experiences.\n<<set $Postal -=7>>\n<<set $Menace -=5>>\nYou've lost 7 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nBack to work, then!\n[[Out on the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[In the Post Office|Mission Select 2]]

You refuse the Postmaster's offer, to her disappointment. You've recieved a much better one, one from the Bazaar itself. The benefits package is better, as is the pay and the uniforms are comfier to boot. Although their monochrommatic design leaves much to be desired.\n\nYour desires are sated in short order; after every successful delivery, a blazing glyph forms somewhere on the uniform. And such deliveries! You carry strange and ominous parcels to every corner of the Neath, the Surface and far beyond; out as far as the High Wilderness, the Kingdoms of the Judgements.\n\nYou get the impression that you're being groomed for... something. But, frankly, you don't care; your days in the Neath are spent in luxury, your time further afield is exciting and ever-changing. You frequently return with strange currencies from far beyond; their study forms an entirely new school at the University. You are toasted at every salon, invited to every party. 'The Courier's Courier' becomes a popular drinking song in every tavern. In short, life is good. Real good. But, in the end, the accounting cannot be postponed.\n\nThis is an ending! Perhaps not the best ending, but a pretty good ending. You've changed the face of the Neath forever, in your own way.\n\nGAME END. [[Restart?|Start]]\n

<<if $Well >= 77>>\nYour pilgrimage here is finished. You now, now. All shall be well. One day. All shall be well. Yes. Yes. All shall be well. A reckoning is not to be postponed. Not in the end. Not for long.\n<<set $Menace to 49>>\nAn occurence! Your 'Going Postal' quality is now 49!\n\n\nThe well is sated.\n\nA boat waits. Not yours, no. But there is one thing left.\n[[Give a card to the pale wretch|Festive Well]]\n<<else>>\nThe well gapes, like an open throat, like a knife-wound, a gap in nothing. Sit for a while. There is time, now. There is time, at last. There is time.\n\nThis is the season of giving, yes? Give something to the well. They have taken so much, so much. But you can wrong that right. It will gain you nothing.\n<>\n\n<<if $Name neq "nothing">>\n[[Give your name to the well|Well name]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Card >=1>>\n[[Give a card to the well|Card Well]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give a Rat of Glory to the well|Well Glory]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Menace <=50>>\n[[Give time to the well|Well menace]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Postal >= 50>>\n[[Give knowledge to the well|Well Postal]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Cramber is 1>>\n[[Give amber to the well|Well Amber]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Samber is 1>>\n[[Give a Bizarre Echo to the well|Echo Well]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Unclear >= 1>>\n[[Give a wrongness to the well|Liberated Well]] \n<<endif>>\n[[Give yourself to the well|Well Death]]\n<<endnobr>>\n<<endif>>\n

\nTwas the night before Ratmas, when all through the house\nNot a creature was stirring, not even a mouse--\n\n...well, apart from the rats, that is.\n<>\n<<set $Postal = 0>>\n<<set $Mad = 0>>\n<<set $Chill = 0>>\n<<set $Sad = 0>>\n<<set $Cardss = 0>>\n<<set $Rat = 0>>\n<<set $Name = 0>>\n<<set $Menace = 0>>\n<<set $RoG = 0>>\n<<set $Cramber = 0>>\n<<set $Samber = 0>>\n<<set $Allwell = 0>>\n<<set $Mannerwell = 0>>\n<<set $Excalibrat = 0>>\n<<set $Well = 0>>\n<<endnobr>>\n\nEnter a username to\n<<textinput $Name [[BEGIN YOUR QUEST|The Beginning]]>>\n\nThe above username doesn't have to be a Fallen London username, go hog wild. Maybe certain names unlock secrets...\n\n[[Fallen London is © 2014 and ™ Failbetter Games Limited: www.fallenlondon.com. This is an unofficial fan work.|http://www.fallenlondon.com]]

You lean against the wall and take in your surroundings. Snowy paths, a street blocked by rats, postmen scurrying to and fro... what else is there to see?\n\n<<print either("A postwoman falls into a densely-packed heap of rats. She does not re-emerge.","You catch the faintest glimpse of a white-trimmed red robe, in the corner of your eye, but when you turn you find nothing but lacre.","You take a deep breath, which causes your eyes to fill with tears. Just the cold, right?","Someone walks by in a grey clay mask. They're terribly late; Hallowmas was more than a month ago! Oh, hang on... that's a Clay Man.","You contemplate eating some snow.","Sounds of a scuffle! Inches of thick, Neathy snow are not enough to dissuade the participants of the Game of Knife and Candle, apparently.", "You hear shouting, a long way off.", "An urchin offers you a pail of snow for an exorbitant price. You decline, on principle. You're not here for a taste of lacre.", "Shouting; closer, but still too faint to make out.", "Someone hands you a Christmas Card! Hoora-- oh, this is a bill. Not your bill, fortunately. Hide it under some rats.", "A Rattus Faber! It stares up at you, squints, shrugs, leaves. It doesn't seem to be particularly perturbed by the rats all over the road.","Few businesses employ Rubbery Men. Nevertheless, you can see several of the squid-faced beings in the blue-and-gold livery of the Royal Mail. Times must be hard.","An anarchist hands you a badly-printed pamphlet, proclaiming the benefits of THE LIBATION OF NIGHT. Sounds alright; you could use a drink.","Damn, it's really cold.","Is that sorrow-spider clutching a festive card? Maybe it's just an especially oblong eyeball.","A Noted Correspondent throws a bottle at you! It slams into the snow and explodes. Hopefully that wasn't anything valuable.","Someone squeezes past you, wearing a frankly ridiculous-looking Christmas Stocking on one foot. It looks like it was designed for something with claws...","A phaeton thunders past! It doesn't slow down, but instead rides straight up over the glacierat. Hardcore.","A ferocious goat stomps into the street! It unleashes a ferocious bellow; windows shatter, snow falls from rooftops, postpersons are sent flying! You are miraculously left unscathed.","Frost-moths! Ack!","A devil! Nothing special, really. It's just a devil.","Police-whistles! Some shady looking sorts scramble over the rat mountain, pursued by black-suited Special Constables.","Someone hands you a parcel of rats! This startles you, and the rats spill out into the grand rat flow, marginally widening it.","A hideous crab-thing attaches itself to your boot. Kick it away!","Someone opens a window and screams, and screams, and screams. They should quiet down; it's not time to make restitution yet.","A chill runs down your spine. Wait, no, that's a blob of lacre. Still chilly, though","A lost guinea pig wanders out onto a clear patch of street. Before you even have time to fawn over it, a colossal venge-rat leaps out from the gutter and carries the cavy into an alley! You do not see the pig again.","Ragged costermongers hawk counterfeit Christmas Cards to passersby. Unlicensed Christmas cards are technically illegal, but they've propagated far out of control. More work for the postmen, of course...","A postman scrambles atop the ratpile! He hands out fistfuls of rats to passersby, a manic glint in his eyes.")>>\n\n[[Keep staring|Gawk 2]]\n[[Quit staring: Accost the Postman|Postal Gawk]]\n[[Quit staring: Leap into the Glacierat|The Ratpile]]\n[[Sod it: Just go to the pub|The Medusa's Head]]

The Machine is a bright, whirling nightmare; it brings to mind an unholy fusion of THE SUN and the Bazaar. Rings whirl, cross, twirl, each one inscribed with dozens of tiny symbols. Even with your new glasses, staying this close is like staring right at THE SUN.\n\nPaddle closer, closer; even with your eyes closed, THE SUN... Machine is unbearably bright. THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN... no, no, snap out of it. You have a job to do. Neither rain nor snow nor glare of light shall stay you from your duty.\n\nTHE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN no, too close, back, back! THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN... alright, that's more like a safe THE SUN distance. You toss your postbag into the water and row, frantically, back towards THE SUN, no, the dock.\n\nThe bag hits the water... even with your back turned, you can tell that it's been enveloped by impossibly bright light. You hear a roar, and then all is rose-gold.\n\nTHE SUN light slams into you like a hammer, knocking you into your boat, face-down. Even like this, the brightness is extraordinary; it makes no difference if you close or open your eyes. Although keeping them open hurts a lot more.\n\nEventually, the light subsides. You manage to make it back to shore, practically blind though you are. You get the vague impression that a crowd of Navy staff has gathered at the dock, gawking at the incredible auroral display of light, but you don't even care. You stagger into the Admirality ship and squint your eyes shut in the darkness. The brightness rings in your eyes.\n<<set $Postal +=35>>\n<<set $Menace +=15>>\nYou've gained 35 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 15 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Eventually, the boat have started to move|North]]

The Sun seems to ruminate on this for a moment... then it unleashes a flare. Not a very large one, but it'll do. You've prepared for this; it was what you were waiting for. Leap into the bird's other head, quickly! \n\nThis side of the craft hasn't been fitted with an engine, like the other. However, it does have a tremendous sail; designed to let you ride out the energy flare and, hopefully, arrive home. So far, Benthic University haven't let you down... lets hope they manage to keep it up. The engine-head drops away, job done.\n\nYou extend the sail just in time; it billows, flinging you far away from the Sun. You travel at... a reasonable pace, and slowly descend to Earth after a few moments.\n\n<<set $Postal +=100>>\n<<set $Menace to 0>>\nYou've gained 100 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYour 'Going Postal' quality has gone!\n\nYou splash down, conveniently, in Lake Avernus. The water slams into you like a steel wall, but your impact is cushioned by your light-bloated Dauncey suit.\nMost of the academics have regained consciousness by now, although your arrival slams most of them back into the sweet nothingness of sleep. Hopefully they'll be okay. Hopefully you'll be okay; your arm doesn't seem to bend any more. \nYou feel like you probably should have brought the Sun more than just cards, though...\n[[Maybe next time?|Mission Select 2]]

If the Sun is its master, let it be drowned. Darkness is just one way to be drowned, and the well knows darkness, oh yes.\n<<set $Well +=28>>\n<<set $Unclear -=1>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Obscure Object (new total <<print $Unclear>>).\n\n<<display 'The well'>>

It takes him a mere five turns to topple your king. His laughter bores into your skull like an angry rat with a pickaxe.\n<<set $Postal +=1>>\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\n\nYou've gained 1 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Rematch|either("Chess 2", "Chess 3", "Chess 4")]]\n[[Try the die|Dice]]

"Sending rats to the Tiger Keeper used to be a time-honored tradition, you know? Then, one day, he decided enough was enough, and just stopped accepting them. I do wonder if he'll change his mind just for Ratmas... still, plenty of Christmas Cards to go around, either way. Do try not to get disembowelled; we're running low on replacement uniforms."\n\nNot the most reassuring words to hear before you set out to meet a tiger. You sashay past the tiger prowling around the entrance; by Postmaster's orders, these have to go direct.\n\nThe Tiger Keeper's lair is hidden on the first coil, through an empty cage. There's no letterbox; [[you're going to have to go in.|Tiger Keeper]]

"This place has been known as Rattsey long, long before anyone lived here. I think the rats might always have lived here, to some degree. But plenty have come here from London, too, stowed away aboard passing steamers or hidden in a postman's satchel."\n\n"We get a lot of use out of the rats; they're a useful currency. They're abundant, but not particularly easy to catch. Trading rats is Protocol. They're also used for personal transactions, occasional trade with zailors. And you can put them in a stew, if you're hungry. Oh, and every week, we provide rats to the Male, and they are distributed in a fair and equitable manner." He says the last line like providing a statue with rat tithes is just common sense.\n\nAn island with a strange history. Still, you've heard of stranger. \n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

You remain unnoticed once more on your way back. A zailor almost spots you, but her dark glasses cloud her sight.\n\nYou have another exciting excursion as you pass the Republic once again, getting into <<print either("a literary debate","an argument","a philosophical debate","a waking nightmare","a riddle contest","a lyrical clash","a barrel","an eating contest","a rousing zee-shanty song session","a party","a fistfight","a dilemma","a staring contest","a metaphysics debate","a game jam","a fruitful marital arrangement","a parlour game")>> with <<print either("an invisible force claiming to be God","oxygen","yourself","a migratory devil, just passing through","the ship","the Unterzee","the entire Republic","a barrel","a very confused Admirality operative, who assumes you're a hallucination","a hallucination","your shadow","an animate rope","your long-lost aunt","Salt","the law","a small round yellow thing","the concept of concepts","a bundle of Twine")>>. The whole ordeal is less confusing the second time around, but you don't learn quite as much either.\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\n<<set $Postal +=3>>\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 3 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\nEscaping onto the crowded docks of London is a much more difficult task; you suspect an Admirality zailor spots you on your way out. Run, quickly, into the crowds! You'll become just another postman in a busy city.\n\n[[Dash towards the nearest residential area|Going Postal]]\n[[Sprint back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]

The Tiger Keeper looks expectantly at you as you place the Christmas Cards on a side table. His eyes widen as you produce a Rat of Glory from your postbag. "Good heavens! I'd thought these had all been claimed by the Scuttering Squad or burnt up in enigmatic fires. And you're just going to give it to me? Remarkable! I'll make an exception just this once. Actually, no, that's a lie; I'll make an exception for any of these things you can find. Pull up a chair... there's probably one that doesn't have too much blood on it somewhere"\n\nYou spend a few hours in conversation with the Tiger Keeper, learning about the business operations of the Labyrinth of Tigers, the meaning of rats, the secrets of tigers and the laws which underpin your universe. You feel enlightened, and also somewhat relieved. It is somehow reassuring to know your place in a grander scheme.\n<<set $Postal +=15>>\n<<set $Menace -=5>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\nYou've gained 15 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\nYou totally ignore the gate guard on your way out.\n\nWell, now that you know all the secrets of the world, what will you do next?\n[[Deliveries on the street|Going Postal]]\n[[Postmaster's Orders|Mission Select 2]]

The Bazaar, they say, is nothing more than a postman on a grander scale. Of course, those who say it are rarely taken seriously, but perhaps there's some truth to it...\n\nSigils burn above, like the one that burns in your hindbrain and yet completely different. If you squint, you can make out fragmented shards of meaning.\n\nThe Courier... seeks a Courier... to courier? Not the most incredibly clear message. But postman blood runs through your veins now; obfuscated addresses and unclear destinations are practically second nature to you. The only question is... do you want to?\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\n<<set $Menace +=5>>\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Want to what? Huh?|Namber]]\n[[Toss the cards into a pool, leave via Penstock's elevator|Bizarre]]\n<<if $Cramber is 1>>\n[[Place the Ambermas in the nearest pool|Echo]]\n<<endif>>

The glories of the inks of the undernight! The fats of saints. Back and forthigan. The well consumes.\n<<set $Well +=27>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\n<<display "The well">>

The voyage back is peaceful, the crew cheered by the fact that not all of them have been eaten by spiders. You think you catch a few glimpses of the dread octomaran, the Tree of Ages... but it's probably nothing. It's probably a myth, anyway.\n\nNothing sturdier than a jillyfleur ever attacks your ship, but time at zee is hell on the nerves even when nothing happens. You learn a few things from shipboard chatter.\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\n<<set $Postal +=5>>\nYou've gained 5 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n\nWolfstack Docks! Breathe deep. After so much zee air, the smogs of London are a welcome change.\n\n[[Stretch, then just go back to delivery like nothing happened|Going Postal]]\n[[Yawn, then head back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

You toss the sword into the river. A hand reaches up and catches it, sinking back below the waves. A Drownie? Or something entirely more mythic? None of your concern, now. To the pub!\n\nYou while away the last few hours of Ratmas by getting completely drunk in every pub in the city. Even the fairly shady ones. How many hours are in a Ratmas, anyway? Who cares! More wine!\n\nWhen you finally return home, your path has mercifully been cleared of snow. Your door is another story altogether; it's totally clogged with a mixture of rats and Christmas Cards. Still... it's hard to stay grumpy about such an outpouring of affection. It takes a while, but you manage to forge a path for yourself through the pile of festivity. You collapse, just inside the door, and sleep for a whole day straight. You've Earned It!\n\nThis is an ending! Perhaps not the best of endings, but a pretty good one overall. Plenty of boozin' to go around.\n\nGAME END. [[RESTART?|Start]]

You stand at a crossroads of fate.\n\n[[Go home, set fire to your Royal Mail uniform|Peace at last]]\n[[Sign up for a long-term Postal Employment Contract|A Steady Job]]\n<<if $Allwell is 1>>\n[[A reckoning|Chapel of Lights]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Mannerwell is 1>>\n[[An Employment Contract... but not with the Royal Mail|Courier's Courier]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Allwell is 1 and $Mannerwell is 1>>\n[[Not to be postponed indefinitely|True Ending]]\n<<endif>>

The rats hover in the air for a few moments, before turning into extra-crispy lumps of carbon. Oh. Well, now what are you going to do?\n<<set $Rat -=100>>\nYou've lost 100 x Unstrung Rat (new total <<print $Rat>>).\n\nThe Sun is distressingly close now. You feel like you could almost reach out and grab it.\n\n[[Drift closer|Crispy]]\n[[Toss the cards at it|Sunmas]]\n<>\n<<if $Samber is 1>>\n[[Toss the Bazaar's Echo at it|Courier's Dream]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Toss rats at it|Ratmasun]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $Unclear >=1>>\n[[Toss your orb at it|THE LIBERATION OF NIGHT]]\n<<endif>> \n<<endnobr>>

You lean against a wall and take in your surroundings. Snowy paths, a street blocked by rats, postmen scurrying to and fro... what else is there to see?\n\n<<print either("A postwoman falls into a densely-packed heap of rats. She does not re-emerge.","You catch the faintest glimpse of a white-trimmed red robe, in the corner of your eye, but when you turn you find nothing but lacre.","You take a deep breath, which causes your eyes to fill with tears. Just the cold, right?","Someone walks by in a grey clay mask. They're terribly late; Hallowmas was more than a month ago! Oh, hang on... that's a Clay Man.","You contemplate eating some snow.","Sounds of a scuffle! Inches of thick, Neathy snow are not enough to dissuade the participants of the Game of Knife and Candle, apparently.", "You hear shouting, a long way off.", "An urchin offers you a pail of snow for an exorbitant price. You decline, on principle. You're not here for a taste of lacre.", "Shouting; closer, but still too faint to make out.", "Someone hands you a Christmas Card! Hoora-- oh, this is a bill. Not your bill, fortunately. Hide it under some rats.", "A Rattus Faber! It stares up at you, squints, shrugs, leaves. It doesn't seem to be particularly perturbed by the rats all over the road.","Few businesses employ Rubbery Men. Nevertheless, you can see several of the squid-faced beings in the blue-and-gold livery of the Royal Mail. Times must be hard.","An anarchist hands you a badly-printed pamphlet, proclaiming the benefits of THE LIBATION OF NIGHT. Sounds alright; you could use a drink.","Damn, it's really cold.","Is that sorrow-spider clutching a festive card? Maybe it's just an especially oblong eyeball.","A Noted Correspondent throws a bottle at you! It slams into the snow and explodes. Hopefully that wasn't anything valuable.","Someone squeezes past you, wearing a frankly ridiculous-looking Christmas Stocking on one foot. It looks like it was designed for something with claws...","A phaeton thunders past! It doesn't slow down, but instead rides straight up over the glacierat. Hardcore.","A ferocious goat stomps into the street! It unleashes a ferocious bellow; windows shatter, snow falls from rooftops, postpersons are sent flying! You are miraculously left unscathed.","Frost-moths! Ack!","A devil! Nothing special, really. It's just a devil. Merry Christmas, devil.","Police-whistles! Some shady looking sorts scramble over the rat mountain, pursued by black-suited Special Constables.","Someone hands you a parcel of rats! This startles you, and the rats spill out into the grand rat flow, marginally widening it.","A hideous crab-thing attaches itself to your boot. Kick it away!","Someone opens a window and screams, and screams, and screams. They should quiet down; it's not time to make restitution yet.","A chill runs down your spine. Wait, no, that's a blob of lacre. Still chilly, though","A lost guinea pig wanders out onto a clear patch of street. Before you even have time to fawn over it, a colossal venge-rat leaps out from the gutter and carries the cavy into an alley! You do not see the pig again.","Ragged costermongers hawk counterfeit Christmas Cards to passersby. Unlicensed Christmas cards are technically illegal, but they've propagated far out of control. More work for the postmen, of course...","You overhear a snippet of conversation... 'I hear sending parcels of rats is fashionable these days. What will they come up with next?'")>>\n\n[[Keep staring|Gawk]]\n[[Quit staring: Accost a Postman|Postal Orders]]\n[[Quit staring: Leap into the Glacierat|The Ratpile]]\n[[Sod it: Just go to the pub|The Medusa's Head]]

The only ship heading to Rattsey you can find is a jury-rigged Scuttering Company Rat Barge. The rats aboard seem skeptical, but they're willing enough to give you a lift as long as you don't cause trouble.\n\nThe ship was once a light cutter, a fairly cramped ship to start with. Now it's been totally redesigned to meet the needs of a small regiment of rats; just trying to find a place to sit is nigh-impossible. You resolve yourself to pacing on the decks, trying your damnedest to avoid stepping on any of the miniscule crew.\n\nRattsey is normally a fair distance out to zee; today, it's not far from Hunter's Keep. You don't have long to wait before Nuncio pulls into sight. The towering statue of a postman holding a rat aloft is the first thing you see; and the second, third, seventh and nineteenth things you see, for that matter. It's visible long before anything else, partially because of its size... but mostly because it's lit by a blazing bonfire of candles.\n\nOther Rat Barges throng the waves; normally a menace to zailors, they allow their ratty brethren to pass unscathed. It's said something in the Rattsey air makes rats bold; these ratty corsairs would hesitate to attack so viciously elswhere.\n\nThe ship stops so suddenly that you very nearly pitch overboard. "Sorry, guv'!", squeaks a tiny rat engineer. He then starts babbling on about experimental braking mechanisms and inertial cancellation and other highly technical details you can't possibly comprehend.\n<<set $Postal +=5>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\nYou've gained 5 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nA swarm of rats leap overboard, chittering to their kin onshore! You disembark much more cautiously; your kin onshore look much more reserved.\n\n[[Get your bearings]]

The ball sinks into the Sun, leaving no trace. You brace yourself for a blast of light, a solar flare you can ride out home. That's what Professor Denuntiatus told you to expect.\n\nInstead, you're hit by a wave of darkness. Absolute blackness, the sort not found even in the Neath. The stars wink out. Nothing remains. Something tells you that the Sun is gone, gone for good. Perhaps the lack of sweltering heat blasting you in the face.\n\nIn the darkness, your engine reignites. It still provides light, even in this all-consuming darkness. You try to orient yourself back towards Earth.\n\nWhat have you done? What have you done? What have you done? Is this for the best? Or have you damned every living thing on the planet to a slow, sorry death?\n\nIt's too late to worry, now; what's done is done. You splash down in... what might be Lake Avernus, the only light in a dark, dark world. You catch flickers of figures in the blackness before your engine dies, its power spent.\n\nIn the days and weeks to come, you will be hailed as a saviour, a villain, a person who did a thing. Revolutionaries toast your name in the darkness. Perhaps you welcome the attention, perhaps you regret your actions. None of us can escape our destiny. You hear plans to expand the field of darkness swallowing your planet; to pursue the absolute extinction of light, the eradication of stars. Maybe you're even a proponent of these plans. Either way, you adapt, grow, become one with the darkness. Chaos is restored. Light died at your uncreating word.\n\nBut nobody ever sends you a Christmas Card ever again.\n\nThis is an ending! The price of freedom is light. And Christmas Cards.\n\nGAME OVER. [[RESTART?|Start]]\n\n\n\n

You die. Forever. Your soul slips down the Silent River and becomes nothing... or does it? \n\nYeah. Yeah, it does. Sorry.\n\nCongrats! You died. Next time, try not to die. Game over.\n\nGAME OVER. [[RESTART?|Start]]

After a brief stroll, you manage to find a postman who doesn't seem too busy; he's leaning against a wall smoking a [[cigarette|Rattail]], which does not seem like a particularly strenuous activity. Time to bother an overworked public servant for your own personal gain!\n<>\n<<if $Mad is 1>>[[Demand an explanation!|Postal Answers]]<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Chill is 1>>[[Start a little conversation, then broach the subject|Postal Answers]]<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Sad >= 1>>[[Confess your woes|Postal Answers]]<<endif>>\n \n[[Ask if he knows anything about festive cards, and your profound lack thereof.|Postal Answers]]\n<<endnobr>>\n[[Stare at the postman for a few seconds, then leap into the ratslide|The Ratpile]]\n[[Take a place on the wall beside the Postman, look around|Gawk 2]]

The Rat of Glory comes to life! A seasoned warrior of the Scuttering Squad pulls the wick off of his head, shakes off the wax, and lunges! The Far-Travelled Collector attempts to fight it off with an antique Khanate sabre, but it snaps in half mid-swing. The assassin jabs him in the neck, rendering him unconscious immediately, and then turns to you...\n\nWhen you wake, some of your things have gone missing, and the warrior-arts of the assassin will linger in your dreams for many years to come. The Far-Travelled Collector is weeping; he has lost many things.\n<<set $Rat = 0>>\n<<set $Postal +=13>>\n<<set $Menace +=10>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\n\nYour "Unstrung Rat" quality has gone!\nYou've gained 13 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\nWell... you're feeling a bit dazed, but you still have work to do.\n[[Back on the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]

Many, many postmen have cracked under the strain of couriering in the Neath over the years. Some time ago, it was discovered that all these postmen tended to gather around one focal point; Nuncio, an island of emissaries. Cartographers named the area "Rattsey", for ratever reason cartographers name things. They say many things about Nuncio; that it's filled with rats, that its residents venerate the Drowned Man, that they burn strange candles all through the night, perform strange rites at the foot of a gigantic statue, built from mysterious whispering stone. \nThey say that the postmen of the island never stop being postmen, that they just adapt to a new, smaller environment, passing rats around until they deteriorate, sending endless dinner invites which are unilaterally ignored, writing cryptic messages on bits of paper understood by none. They say many, many things. Some of them may even be true.\n\nYou know this much; Nuncio exists, and it is indeed populated by postmen. Rats, too. Some of those postmen still have friends and family back here in London. The Scuttering Company have recently made it public knowledge that they've set up operations overzees, in Rattsey.\n\nThe introduction of a shipment of Christmas Cards may totally destabilize the island, crashing whatever economy they've built, leaving a card-dominated wreck in its place. But, on the other hand, the Postmaster will be mad if you don't make the delivery.\n\nFortunately enough, Rattsey is fairly close to London at present; the Unterzee may undergo another Alteration soon, so now would be the time to go.\n\n[[Go time!|Rat Barge]]

You beg the Boatman to bring you back to life.\n\nHe just shakes his head. Well, that was pointless.\n\n[[Chess]]\n[[Dice]]

No matter what you do or don't try, you eventually land bodily on cold, grey earth. \n\nWait, not earth... rats. Oh boy.\n\n[[Get your bearings|Rat Area 2]]

Silence. Huh. What's supposed to come after Thr-HURK again?\n\nYou look around anxiously. All around you, nothing has been left standing. The last of the academics has collapsed in a fit of worry and excitement.\n\nWell, not much you can do about that now. Suppose you better start counting, then.\n\n[[Tw-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa|The Final Countdown]]

You turn the Rat over and over in your hands. It's quite the artifact, although you wonder who exactly created it.\n\nFabricated from an L.B. master-thief, wick'd with puzzle-damask, tinted with the inks of the undernight. The Scuttering Company has been known to place its cunningest agents into a death-like sleep and disguise them as Rats of Glory, to smuggle them into candle-collections.\nThis is probably not a fake. Maybe.\n\n[[Back to your rounds, then.|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

Hillock stares at you for a brief moment, before coming to a decision. "No."\n\nThe door shuts in your face. Back to the Post Office, so.\nThe journey back is more treacherous than you expected. You suspect you can see Scuttering Squad troops at the edge of your vision, laughing at your distress.\n<<set $Menace += 5>>\nYou've gained 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>)\n\n[[Back to regular rounds|Going Postal]]\n[[Sheepishly return to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]\n

The Postmaster gives you the address of a man who'd like to add the Rat of Glory to his collection. \n\nYou meet him in a spacious manor with a zeeside view. The Far-Travelled Collector invites you inside, and you chat amicably, feasting on fruits imported from far across the zee. The Rat sits on a side table, glowering at the pair of you.\n\n[[Both of you turn to look at it, when...|either("Glorious Assault", "Glorious Peace")]]

The Marine's eyes practically pop out of his sockets when you present the Rat of Glory. "Where the hell did you get one of those? Never mind, I don't care! Give it to me, now! Do whatever the hell you want with the Machine... but, here, take these."\n\nHe tosses you his pair of dark spectacles, then runs off, clutching the Rat tightly. Not quite the reaction you expected. And you still have to deliver these letters.\n<<set $Postal +=5>>\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\nYou've gained 5 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\n\n[[Hop in a rowboat; deliver the letters by hand|THE SUN 2]]\n[[Try and find someone inside the Geode to take the cards|Inner Geode]]\n[[Toss the spectacles over your shoulder, go home|North]]

You spend a few hours in the pub, drinking heavily to forget your woes. It doesn't really work all that well, but there's nothing better to do.\nAfter some time, you begin to wonder if you do have something better to do.\n\n[[Stagger outside, leap into rats|The Ratpile]]\n[[Go bother a Postman|Postal Orders]]\n[[Actually, you'll just stay here, thanks|The Medusa's Head]]

The fortunes favour you, today. You roll two sixes, utterly thrashing the Boatman's score. Grumbling, he lets you off on the bright shore.\n<<set $Postal +=2>>\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\n\nYou've gained 2 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nYou're alive again! London's smog has never tasted sweeter. Now where will you go?\n[[Back to the rounds|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

No go; he rolled higher. The Boatman cackles and proffers the dice again.\n<<set $Menace +=1>>\n<<set $Postal +=1>>\nYou've gained 1 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 1 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\n[[Roll again|either("Dice 2", "Dice 3")]]\n[[Chess seems more your speed|Chess]]

THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUNTHE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN\n\n<<set $Postal +=25>>\n<<set $Menace +=35>>\nTHE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN <<print $Postal>>\nTHE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN <<print $Menace>>\n\n[[THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN|Going Postal]]\n[[THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN|Mission Select 2]]

It's no use; the Marine is merciless, swift, and very possibly hard of hearing. You end up in a darkened room somewhere deep in the Geode. Public Decency Evaluators ask you many probing questions. Occasionally, there is a stick.\n\nEventually, you find yourself at Wolfstack Docks, with no memory of anything but a tremendous headache. Is that a bottle of Oblivion in your hand? Have you been drinking? Is that a Decency Evaluator? Ow, no, headache, never mind.\n<<set $Postal -=5>>\n<<set $Menace +=10>>\nYou've gained 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 5 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\n[[Stagger around, handing out cards|Going Postal]]\n[[Wobble back to the Post Office|Mission Select 2]]

You approach a stranger, hand them a parcel of rats, and run off. It makes you feel better about yourself.\n<<set $Rat -=100>>\n<<set $Menace -=5>>\nYou've lost 5 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 100 x Unstrung Rats (new total <<print $Rat>>).\n\nThat's done, back to work.\n[[Send cards|Going Postal]]\n[[Send cards to special someones|Mission Select 2]]

How do you approach the postman?\n<>\n<<if $Mad is 1>>[[Demand an explanation!|Postal Answers]]<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Chill is 1>>[[Start a little conversation, then broach the subject|Postal Answers]]<<endif>>\n \n<<if $Sad >= 1>>[[Confess your woes|Postal Answers]]<<endif>>\n \n[[Ask if he knows anything about festive cards, and your profound lack thereof.|Postal Answers]]\n<<endnobr>>

"You know... the glacierats are not a freak phenomenon. You may have heard of the cultural tradition of Ratmas? It's a recent phenomenon, but wildly popular for no reason we can grasp. Anyway, um, you've seen the backlog of Christmas Cards in here- really, truly, honestly, that's not much worse than any other year. The problem is the rats."\n\nThe Postmaster walks over to the window and makes a dramatic flourish.\n"Behold! The entire supply of unsent rats!" There's not much outside the window, except for a wall and a single, solitary rat.\n"Er, wrong window. This window!" She makes another flourish. "This is the right window, yeah? Yeah, it is. Okay. Basically, all those rats in the street? Well, they're all technically parcels, stamped and paid for, a rat for every corner of London. But we just don't have the manpower, and we've lost dozens more to the strange allure of jumping into the damn thing, and nobody can even possibly keep track of where the hell the rats are supposed to go and they're just going to lie there because nobody's going to move them! Gah!"\n<<if $Excalibrat is 0>>\n"I don't even know where or what to deliver here. I don't even think there's anything you can do. I just wanted to get this off my chest. Sorry."\n<<set $Menace +=10>>\n<<set $Postal +=10>>\nYou've gained 10 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Awkwardly choose something else|Mission Select 2]]\n\n<<else>>\n"I don't even know where or what to deliver here. I don't even think there's anything you can do"\nActually, you think there is something you can do. You brandish the remarkable sun-forged ratblade you obtained from your space trip. It glints with a destructive light.\n\nThe Postmaster's eyes widen. \n\nThe sword symbolises order out of chaos, the restoration of order. If anything can solve this problem...\n\n[[Emerge out onto the streets, with fire sword.|Ratmas End]] Warning; this will end the game, although it's technically a win.\n[[Stow the Excalibrat away; some other time, perhaps|Mission Select 2]]\n<<endif>>\n

"Ah! You must be the Courier I was told to expect. Frankly, I wasn't thinking of an actual courier. You have my apologies. Right this way; she's been expecting you"\n\nHuh. Well, that was a fairly unexpected result. Penstock leads you to a tiny, hidden elevator, glowing with a strange alien light. "Tread carefully. This is a meeting, Courier to Courier, in a great divide... she means you no harm, but an errant step may prove fatal. Ware lacre. One day, your path may lead you to a long road... and that day may be today."\n<<set $Postal +=3>>\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\nYou've gained 3 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nAnd with that, the door rattles shut, and you descend.\n\nA sea of white; a sky of red-black. This is the heart of the Bazaar. Or, at the very least, somewhere near the chest cavity. Glyphs glow overhead; you cannot understand them, but the meaning gets through anyway.\n\n[[Courier]].

The Mailpile you once thought insurmountably large has decreased in size dramatically over the course of the day. Your cards have been separated out now; they lie on the Postmaster's desk. The Postmaster herself has some words for you;\n"Well, here we are. Your cards, as promised. Frankly, given the ludicrous amount of effort you put out, they seem kind of miniscule in comparison. But, well, you did ask."\n\n"Your service has been a credit to the indominable spirit of London. If you want to keep the job... then, well, I can't imagine anyone will protest. Anyway, your cards."\n\n[[Your cards! At long last!|Cards Get F'reals]]

The well is always hungry. It eagerly consumes your tales, tales of rats, letters, postmen. They seem absurd, here, but the well absorbs them greedily.\n<<set $Well +=21>>\n<<set $Postal -=50>>\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've lost 50 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\n<<display 'The well'>>

The canteen is surprisingly clean, especially since it's full of rats. Like the rest of the island. The pair of you pick your way across the room. You fill mugs with tea from a large metal container. It occurs to you that, if it weren't for the rats, this place would look awfully like the Royal Mail breakroom.\n\nThe tea is decidedly average. "Okay, so, you've probably seen the Royal Mail already." The office back in London? Yes, that's where you came from. But... on reflection, it doesn't sound like Mail is what he's saying.\n "No! No, that's the Royal Mail. I'm talking about the Royal Male. The statue? You can't miss it. Anyway, all deliveries have to go through the Male. It's protocol. Otherwise the [strange noise] gets mad, and when it gets mad... well, you know."\n\nAh, strange island customs. Well, giving cards to a statue doesn't seem too difficult; it's probably easier than handing them out one-by-one, actually.\n\n"Anyway, you can do that later. You have other questions, yeah? I suppose I might as well help you out. Nothing better to do."\n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why so many rats?|Rattsey]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

You are now mere inches away from the Sun's surface. Your Bombazine suit is useless at this range; it absorbs all the light it can in a half-second, and then combusts entirely. Your ship also combusts entirely. You, too, are scorched by the sun. Nothing remains but a regret.\n\nThis is an ending! Try not to get too close to a giant fire orb.\n\nGAME OVER. [[RESTART?|Start]]

The Postmaster looks at you quizzically. "Where? What?". But you saw it; there, washed out with irrigo ink. You know the place. Well House, Winking Isle... just off shore. Baptist's Marsh... or was it Bugsby's Marsh? Are they the same? A mistake? An imagining? No matter. You know where you're going.\n\n[[An imagining? Could this really just be a dream, a forethought?|Mission Select 2]]\n\nNo, resolve yourself. Wolfstack Docks. Traditionally, they brought Blind Helmsmen to lead the way, to part the zees. You; you have no need of these things. A hunger guides you. Push your boat out to zee, row as hard as your arms will let you. The island rises like a hunger, ominous and forgotten.\n\nCast your boat aside; you need it no more. Skeletons ring the well, dusty, unremembered. A pale weak thing leans into the well, a desperate scrap of nothing. The island, too, is nothing; nothing but stone, nothing but the well. The well. The well.\n<<set $Menace +=7>>\nYou've gained 7 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n\n[[The well]].

The game runs close; it could easily have gone in your favour instead, had he not made a single mistake towards the end of the game. You punished it mercilessly, and the Boatman's king toppled shortly afterwards. He offers you a bony hand, and you shake. He leaves you off at the bright shore immediately afterwards.\n<<set $Postal +=4>>\n<<set $Menace +=3>>\n\nYou've gained 4 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 3 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nYou're alive again! London's smogs have never tasted sweeter. Now where will you go?\n[[The usual rounds|Going Postal]]\n[[Back to the Postmaster|Mission Select 2]]

The game runs close; it could easily have gone in your favour instead, had you not made a single mistake towards the end of the game. The Boatman punished it mercilessly, and your king toppled shortly afterwards.\n<<set $Postal +=3>>\n<<set $Menace +=2>>\nYou've gained 3 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[A rematch|either("Chess 2", "Chess 3", "Chess 4")]]\n[[You'll try the die|Dice]]

The Boatman is feeling festive; you only need to beat him once to get back to the shores of the living.\n\n[[Roll the dice|either("Dice 2", "Dice 3")]]\n[[Actually, you'll just play chess|Chess]]

<>\n<<if $Name is "Mr Eaten">> <html>CANDLES SHOULD STAY BURIED</html>\n\nNah, just kidding. All shall be well, one day.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "Ratan">> Hail, ratty one.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "Rat">> There are plenty of your kind, here.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "Spacemarine9">> Greetings, creator. Or someone masquerading as the creator. Makes no difference, in the end.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "Alexis">>If this is the real Alexis, place a jellyfish behind the oldest oak tree you can find at midnight to confirm your identity. If not, hi, hello, welcome to the video game. How do you check if you're the real Alexis? Many philosophers have tried and failed to determine a method. You can only find the truth within yourself.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "Alexis Kennedy">>You may have to accept rats here. Sorry about that.\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "deadcrystal">> heres an egg ()\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "Flyte">>This game contains hazardous levels of pun, if you play it you may die.<<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "nothing">>You were nothing, and now, now you are less than nothing <<set $Name to "">><<endif>>\n<<if $Name is "RNG">>This is not your domain, but randomness persists everywhere.<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n\nIt is no longer the night before Ratmas, as far as days and nights work in the Neath. You awaken to discover yourself in Lodgings of Indistinct Quality. But, well, of course. They're your lodgings, after all. You are an Individual of Indeterminate Importance, but you're beginning to suspect that nobody actually appreciates the import of your importance or the fluency of your influence. Because, well, it's been December for a whole week! And you haven't received a single Christmas Card!\n\n[[Mope]]\n[[Mope harder|Mope]]\n[[Go outside, with the intent to making a complaint|The Lacreous Streets][$Mad = 1]]\n[[Go outside, with the intent to not make a complaint|The Lacreous Streets][$Chill = 1]]\n[[Go outside, with the intent to figure out your intent when you get there.|The Lacreous Streets]]\n[[Go back to bed|BAD END]]

<<if $Menace < 50>>\n<<if $Menace < 0>> You're too sane! Too sane! <<set $Menace to 0>> <<endif>>\nEvery time you look at a letter, you know exactly where it needs to go. Unfortunately, getting around isn't all that easy, with rats and lacre clogging the streets. You do what you can.\n<<if $Menace >= 10>> You're beginning to have second thoughts about this whole postal thing. [[Maybe you should motivate yourself somehow.|Curative]]\n<<endif>>\n\nThe winter postmen see many sights on their route. What will you see?\n\n<>\n<<print either("Rats fight in the gutters! The dead pile up, making the huge rat flows in the streets even larger.","Urchins continue to sell buckets of snow, almost indistinguishable from the rest. Their prices seem to have increased; the ear-shattering screams of their customers have grown louder still.","A door with no letterbox! You knock, politely; it is answered almost immediately. The house is full of sorrow-spiders! A blindfolded man outstretches his hand; you hand him the letter, and make a quick exit.","Your path is blocked by a glacierat; go around. You don't want to risk falling in.","This house has been completely subsumed by Christmas Cards. You slide another one in anyway.","This delivery takes you to the side of a great stalactite; a mail dirgible has been provided. Strange things glitter above, in the Roof, as you leave a pile of cards on the balcony. You've heard strange things about the Starved Men, and you have no desire to meet one. Conclude your business quickly, lest you return... scathed.","Your next delivery is to a caravanserai at the Forgotten Quarter. You remember nothing but a shade of lilac.","A letter for Clathermont! You catch a peek as he opens it; Ornate designs, like the graffiti of Ladybones Road.","You pass by the Brass Embassy. The devils appear to be enjoying the Christmas festivities as much as anyone else.","Some correspondence for zee-captains! You hand out brightly coloured paper at the Medusa's Head; the barman will take the cards for those still at zee. They may even come back for them.","A Rubbery Man flollops as you hand him an amber-scented card.","Two postmen lie here, sharing a bottle of Morelways. Their satchels are still full.","The Radical Factotum accepts a Christmas Card. Black envelope, black card.","One of the Bazaar's sigils blazes violently as you pass.","An auroral rupture from the South! THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN","You pass the Velocipede Squad Annual Christmas Pub Crawl, just narrowly avoiding projectiles and fists as they ride past, wobbling.","This isn't a Christmas Card! It's a Knife and Candle token in an envelope. You toss it away just before a screaming assailant perforates your nice new uniform. She watches the token arc into the snow, dejected.","Mr Sacks passes you by. Then another Sacks. Then another. Huh.","The ground shakes. 'Stone pigs!', exclaims a nearby Bazaarographer.","You reach into your satchel as you approach a postbox; your questing hand finds only rats. This is correct.","A large box rattles violently; drop it by the door, then run.","Mrs Plenty graciously accepts a card, although her face falls when she sees the candle motif.","Carolers walk by, singing tunes like 'The Rat's Ending' and 'Frosty the Noman'. They're horrendously off-key, but there's plenty of spirit to go around.","You catch a flicker of a leopard in a window. When you turn to look, a tabby cat glowers at you.","That person you just passed looked pale as snow. Hopefully they're alright.","A postwoman falls into a densely-packed heap of rats. She does not re-emerge.","Someone walks by in a grey clay mask. They're terribly late; Hallowmas was more than a month ago! Oh, hang on... that's a Clay Man.","An anarchist hands you a badly-printed pamphlet, proclaiming the benefits of THE LIBATION OF NIGHT. Sounds alright; you could use a drink.","Damn, it's really, really cold.","A deviless in the Royal Mail uniform! She has a distant, ironic grin","Someone is babbling on about souls, for some reason. You whack him with a snowball.","A raven swoops overhead, darker than the Neath's deep spaces.","You stamp your feet to keep out the cold, and accidentally send a Rattus Faber flying. Oops.","A delivery for Mahogany Hall; you are instructed to put the cards in front of a mirror, and then to leave immediately.","Cards for the Clay Men at Wolfstack Docks; each one carved from the walls of the Clay Quarters, all covered in Loamsprach poetry. A neddy man grumbles at you for paying attention to the workers, but you hand him a card too and he cheers up.","Hansom drivers swear viciously at each other. Gives them something to do while they're stuck in the snow.","Playing cards in the gutter; a rare sight. Before you can do anything, an immaculately dressed individual grabs one and sprints towards the University.","Rats, rats, rats, rats, rats, rats, rats.", "A tiger prowls outside the Labyrinth of Tigers, collecting cards for the exhibits.","A hideous crab-thing attaches itself to your boot. Kick it away!","Someone opens a window and screams, and screams, and screams. They should quiet down; it's not time to make restitution yet.","A chill runs down your spine. Wait, no, that's a blob of lacre. Still chilly, though","A lost guinea pig wanders out onto a clear patch of street. Before you even have time to fawn over it, a colossal venge-rat leaps out from the gutter and carries the cavy into an alley! You do not see the pig again.","Some cards for the Topsy King. A Raggedy Man accepts them in proxy. 'Most capering goden!'","The way to this house is clogged not with rats, but velocipedes. The recipient of the card thanks you very, very loudly.","Among the piles of Christmas Cards, the usual invites to dinner, to Caligula's Coffee House, to sparring bouts and chess games mingle. Fortunately, you can often kill several birds with one stone, metaphorically. Probably literally too, if you tried.","Someone has requested that you drop this card down a well. Well, you might as well.","Ragged costermongers hawk counterfeit Christmas Cards to passersby. Unlicensed Christmas cards are technically illegal, but they've propagated far out of control. More work for the postmen, of course... which means more work for you.","Murmured rumours of a revolutionary attack on the Paper Door of the Bazaar. Only rumours, of course...","A pair of Special Constables stop you near Ladybones Road. They seem to be awfully interested in some sort of Christmas Card List, but after extensive questioning they let you go. Surely nobody has grand, dreadful designs for Christmas Cards?","Festive decorations in Jekyll Park! Someone has festooned an oversized mushroom with tinsel and interesting bits of glim.","Is that false-star red?","You begin to suspect some of the Christmas 'Cards' you carry are actually rats in envelopes.")>>\n \n<<if visited() % 10 is 0>>\n You find some rats in your postbag with no defined owner. Well, I guess they're yours now <<set $Rat +=100>>\n \nYou've gained 100 x Unstrung Rats (new total <<print $Rat>>)<<endif>>\n \n<<if visited() % 25 is 0>>Say, this is one of your Christmas Cards! Score!<<set $Cards +=1>> \n \nYou've gained 1 x Christmas Card (new total <<print $Cards>>)\n <<endif>>\n<<if visited() % 55 is 0>>You find a strange sphere in your satchel, dark as midnight sleep. A leaflet is attached! "FOR THE LIBERATION"<<set $Unclear +=1>> \nYou've gained 1 x Obscure Object (new total <<print $Unclear>>).\n \n<<endif>>\n<<set $Postal += 1>>\nYou've gained 1 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n<<endnobr>>\n\n[[Trudge onwards|Going Postal]]\n[[Go back to the Royal Mail|Mission Select 2]]\n\n<<else>>\n<<if $Cramber is 1>>\nYou can't take this any more. The rats, the cards, the swimming sigil in your hindbrain dispensing addresses unceasingly. Tip your satchel out... wait. There's that amber you got, down in Flute Street. Perhaps you should take it with you.\n\nWhen you grab the amber, seasonal cheer floods through your veins, like the rats flooding the streets. You feel a little more resolved, surer, safer. Nuncio won't have you today!\n<<set $Menace -=10>>\n<<set $Cramber = 0>>\nYou've lost 1 x Ambermas (new total 0).\nYou've lost 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n[[Now, ah, where were we?|Going Postal]]\n<<else>>\nYou can't take this any more. The rats, the cards, the swimming sigil in your hindbrain dispensing addresses unceasingly. Enough! You need to get out of this city; no matter where you look, all you can think of are letters left unsent, parcels stamped, unsent, rats. \nYour tramp steamer leaves tonight. You understand, now. Nuncio waits.\n\nThe tramp steamer never arrives; the captain was an incompetent, and plowed headalong into <<print either("Rowena's Rocks","the nearest giant crab","an Albino Moray","Straight off the edge of the Zee, somehow","A Heptycheer","the side of Nuncio","Pigmote Island","London","Hunter's Keep","The High Gate of the Avid Horizon, journeying out far beyond the known zee","The well of the Chapel of Lights. It was very impressive","The Dawn Machine","Westergren's Fire","Irem, somehow","The Dubois Maelstrom","a tiny rock")>>. The ship was lost with all hands, and you never returned.\n\nBad end! Oh no! Maybe you can find some items to help... next time, next time.\n[[RESTART?|Start]]\n<<endif>>\n<<endif>>

You need something absorbent, something capable of carrying a message a great distance. Something... amberine?\n\n<<if $Cramber is 0>>\n[[You don't have anything like that, unfortunately|Bizarre]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $Cramber is 1>>\n[[You have something like that; and you'll use it|Echo]]\n[[You have something like that; but you'd rather not use it|Bizarre]]\n<<endif>>

Perhaps you expected that leaping through would lead you to some majestic land full of festive joy, or that you'd somehow find all your Christmas Cards in the clutter.\n\nUnfortunately, you'd be wrong. You get stuck. Buried under a mountain of festive cheer, there's nowhere to go at all.\n\n\nWhen they finally clear out the last of the Christmas Cards, in July 189X, they find you. You have survived on glue and paper for many... months? years?, and you are finally free.\n\nYour first action is to climb into a postbox, scrawling an address on your head; "SOMEWHERE WITHOUT CHRISTMAS"\n\nThe parcel is never delivered.\n\n\nThis is an ending! Safety note; do not leap into large piles of festive greeting cards! It may end badly for you!\n[[RESTART?|Start]]

The Boatman is a master of the chessboard; few can hope to ever defeat him at his best. Fortunately, he does take pity on newcomers, and will often throw games in their favour.\nToday, he's feeling a little pitiless.\n\n[[Just play dice instead|Dice]]\n[[Take your place, make your move|either("Chess 2", "Chess 3", "Chess 4")]]

Something tells you that this is a place-between-places; not quite the Neath, and yet... not quite another place. The rat-surface stretches out in all directions; you can see no land-marks in particular. A few lost souls wander, confused and alone. The sky is a particular shade of purple; no sign of the London street you were standing on just a few minutes ago.\n\nSo, what will you do?\n\n[[Stand around|Rat Gawk]]\n[[Go North-ish|either("Zone Portal","MUDA")]]\n[[Go East. Maybe|either("MUDA","MUDAMUDA")]]\n[[Go in a direction. Maybe it's west|either("MUDAMUDA","MUDAMUDAMUDA")]]\n[[South? Possibly|either("MUDA","MUDAMUDAMUDA")]]

There is no earthly way of knowing which way you're actually going.\n\n[[Stand around|Rat Gawk]]\n[[Go North-ish|either("Zone Portal", "MUDA","MUDAMUDA")]]\n[[Go East. Maybe|either("MUDA","MUDAMUDA")]]\n[[Go in a direction. Maybe it's west|either("MUDAMUDA","MUDAMUDAMUDA")]]\n[[South? Possibly|either("MUDA","MUDAMUDAMUDA")]]

You look at your Christmas Card(s), in all their festive glory. It's a mildly reassuring experience.\n\n<<set $Menace -=3>>\nYou've lost 3 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Look at it some more|Look at your Christmas Cards]]\n[[Put it back in your bag; deliver other people's cards|Going Postal]]\n[[Put it back in your bag; deliver special cards|Mission Select 2]]

Rats skitter in the shadows. Reticient postmen stroll around the foot of an enormous statue; you have to crane your neck to see it. It depicts a man, in the old-style Royal Mail uniform, a rat held up in one colossal hand. In lieu of the traditional peaked cap, the postatue wears a simple crown, the kind you might expect a lord of a small but prosperous medieval fiefdom to have.\n\nYour attempts to hand the postmen their cards are not met with approval; you receive only baleful stares, grunts and general unhelpfulness. Eventually, you find someone who can at least tell you what you're doing wrong.\n\n"Listen, you aren't doing this according to protocol. All packages have to be approved by the Royal Mail. If you don't follow protocol, then it all falls apart. You get it, right? If you don't follow protocol, then the [strange noise] gets angry. And when it's angry, things go wrong."\n\nYou look quizzically at the Nuntius. "Look, I shouldn't even be talking to you out here; meet me in the canteen, I'll explain it over a cuppa." With that, he walks off, into a squat, grey building. \n\nYou'd better follow him if you want to find out what the hell's going on. [[Onwards.|Canteen]]

You offer the Marine one of your scant few recovered Christmas Cards. This one was designed like a postcard from the Surface, a sunrise of red and yellow and gold.\n"Ah! This card! The inks, the dyes... yes, yes. Acceptable. If the rest of them are like these, then the Machine will be happy, yes indeed. I'll arrange... suitable transport for the rest."\n\nHe takes your postbag! Somehow, you don't think you're going to get that back, no matter how much you protest. The Marine walks off into the heart of the Geode, bag in tow. Fortunately, your most important possessions are in your other bag. \n<<set $Cards -=1>>\n<<set $Postal +=24>>\n<<set $Menace +=8>>\nBack to the cargo hold of that ship, then. The Dawn Machine flares bright as you sneak aboard, blasting shining rays through the portholes. Even in the darkness of the cargo hold, you still need to squint. Still, the Machine seems... happy? None of your concern, now; job's done.\n\nThe ship's engine starts up again after a few hours. [[Homeward bound.|North]]

On the outside, the Royal Mail Head Post Office is a very grand, imposing building. It's as old as the Department of Menace, apparently, and no less impressive. It really works for that Royal prefix. Its [[walls]] loom high and mighty.\n\nThe inside, on the other hand, is a totally different story. Rats and Christmas cards are scattered all over the room. A huge pile of letters, not far removed from the rat-pile outside your house, has consumed most of the building. Somewhere, someone is screaming... several someones, by the sound of it. A very stressed out Postmaster is manning the front desk, weeping into a tepid cup of tea.\n\n[[Sprint past the Postmaster, dive into the pile of letters|The Mailpile]]\n[[Actually, the pub sounds good right about now|The Medusa's Head]]\n[[Pluck up the courage to ask the dejected Postmaster about taking on some extra work|The Postmaster]]

Some part of you looks at a huge pile of rats and decides "I'm gonna jump into those rats". Before you even have time to think further than "jump", you're plunging headfirst into the furry mass!\n\nYou fall, and fall, and fall... the pile is, evidently, much deeper than it seems.\n\n[[Attempt to stop|Rat Area]]\n[[Attempt to speed up|Rat Area]]\n[[Do nothing|Rat Area]]

"Huh? Oh, right, the (weird noise again). You're a new postman, so I take it you've seen the Dispatches board at the Royal Mail? It's nothing more than the application of a concept, something that's been resonating in the Neath since the Bazaar arrived."\n\n"It's a fragment, a tangled contradiction; the desire to both deliver messages and to betray them. The Dispatches board just accentuates the delivery part, but too much time on the job strengthens the other aspect. There are postmen here who've never seen or heard of that board, but they still know about the [strange noise]."\n\nHe suddenly looks embarassed. "Sorry. I, uh, I've been studying this for a while. Gives me something to do in between the rats. Sorry if that seemed needlessly complicated; I've got a correspondence partner in Benthic, and they tend to get needlessly snooty if you don't embellish as much as possible."\n\nInteresting. But confusing.\n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why so many rats?|Rattsey]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

Penstock tears open your parcel in a flash! He starts counting the rats out, one by one. "Ah, no, I'm sorry. This is inadequate." Huh?\n"A Marsh House costs three hundred rats, not one hundred. I'm sorry. Please come back some other time with the correct sum." He hands you the parcel back, just in time for you to hear a Neddy Man shout "'ey, lads, in 'ere!". Oh dear.\n\n<<display "Trunchin'">>

"Hm? Is this a gift for me? Well, it's terribly kind of you, but I must refuse. These are officially strictly prohibited, but it is Christmas, so I won't tell a soul. Perhaps you might send it to the Royal Bethlehem? I hear one notable guest there has an... affinity for them."\n\nThis is absolutely the wrong time of year to bribe people, on reflection. You hastily stuff the Rat back into your bag, just in time for you to hear a Neddy Man shout "'ey, lads, in 'ere!". Oh dear.\n\n<<display "Trunchin'">>

Penstock scrutinizes your card for a few moments. Then; "I'm sorry, there seems to have been a mixup. This card is addressed to you. Happy holidays? Now, if you're here to talk land, we've just received exclusive rights to several more Leases at the Bazaar..." \nOh no! This isn't what you want at all! You grab your card and spin around, right into the face of a leering Neddy Man. Oh, good.\n\n<<display "Trunchin'">>

The Scuttering Company Barge is ready to go when you are. The captain seems reasonably pleased with whatever deal she's managed to forge with the Nuncio Branch. \n\nThe zees are still as they were, fortunately. The ship cuts through the waves, speeding back to London in near-record time. There's still nowhere to sit, unfortuantely. \nYou brace yourself as the ship comes in to dock... but it doesn't dock at all! It slams straight into the side of the harbour, tearing a tremendous gash in the hull. Engineers chitter anxiously, bounding for the safety of the docks. The boat begins to capsize- leap ashore, quickly!\n\nA rat hangs his head low as the ship sinks below the waves. He is reprimanded by the captain; not harshly, but you feel sorry for him anyway. The braking system needs more work, evidently. At present, it's more of a breaking system.\n\nThe rat captain offers you a handshake; it's all she can really do, given that her cargo is currently scraping the zeefloor. It'll do.\n\nNow, then, what shall you do next?\n[[Hit the streets|Going Postal]]\n[[Go back to the Royal Male. I mean, uh, Mail|Mission Select 2]]

You slowly, painfully, excruciatingly open your eyes. Well, at least they're still there. Small mercies.\n\nYour vision is blurred. Still, you can see enough to recognise the captain of the ship you took, looking down on you, a concerned look in her eyes.\n\nYou spend a few days anchored at the Chelonate, though you never leave the ship. Slowly but surely, with the help of the ship's Surgeon and suspicious remedies bought from the Chelonians, you return to good health. You'll never shake the fear of spiders, though.\n<<set $Postal +=20>>\nYou've gained 20 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\n[[Time to return to London, then!|Zafe Zailing]]

You are unable to accept the Postmaster's offer. This is because you have exploded.\n\nIt comes as a shock, certainly. Very few people expect to explode out of the blue. But your explosion has an extremely remarkable effect; goodwill and cheer begins to spread through the Neath, up through the Roof to the Surface, and far beyond... \n\nFor once, all really is well, and all manner of thing is actually well. Your sheer outburst of goodwill mends hearts, cures minds, heals wounds. The Drowned Man undrowns. The Bazaar and the Sun reunite, by some miracle of non-linear space. The guy who said the assassins would arrive at dawn repents. Across the zee, corsairs abandon their guns, pirates drop their cutlasses. Vicious crabs cease their assault on foolhardy passersby. All is well, and all manner of thing is well.\n\nBut what about you? It's difficult to be well after exploding violently. But you persist, somehow, an intangible spirit of goodwill. The Ghost of Ratmas Past, Present, Future. A manifestation of magnanimity, goodwill, peace.\n\nAnd if you don't like that ending, try this one;\nYou go out drinking with Mr Eaten, you high five the Bazaar, you wear sunglasses with the Sun, you send rats to a tiger and remain unmauled, you successfully land a triple backflip and surf on the back of a Bound-Shark. All is still well, and totally rad to boot.\n\n\n\nThis is an ending! The Best Ending, in fact. The best ending... really, is one you choose yourself. That's the true secret. The spirit of Ratmas was inside you all along. Happy Christmas!\n\n\nGAME END.

The inside, on the other hand, is altogether less opulent. Rats and Christmas cards are scattered all over the room. A huge pile of letters, not far removed from the rat-pile outside your house, has consumed most of the building. Somewhere, someone is screaming... several someones, by the sound of it. A very stressed out Postmaster is manning the front desk, weeping into a tepid cup of tea.\n\n[[Sprint past the Postmaster, dive into the pile of letters|The Mailpile]]\n[[Actually, the pub sounds good right about now|The Medusa's Head]]\n[[Pluck up the courage to ask the dejected Postmaster about taking on some extra work]|The Postmaster]]

The calamari-faced Rubbery Men are, as a rule, considered seventh-class citizens. Although they are near-universally discriminated against, they have staunch defenders in many high places, as well as several quiet appreciators in many more slightly lower places. \n\nThe location of Flute Street is widely debated; some argue that it's an urban myth, created entirely of whole cloth. Presumably those people think Rubbery Men sleep upside-down, hanging from the roof. Do Rubbery Men even sleep? Possibly, you're about to find out.\n\nAs a postman, you have no need for geographical debate, wide or otherwise. Set stock in your postal intuitions (and in the blazing symbol which still lingers in your mind).\n\n[[Onwards and, er, downwards!|Depths Below]]

You had heard that Saviour's Rocks is predominantly dull and grey, the colour of spiderwebs and lost hopes. What you see is entirely the opposite; a riot of colour, music, dancing! Something tells you that it's the sort of festivity that can only be born from endless misery and toil...\n\nStill; you resolve to enjoy yourself while you can. It's not often you accidentally discover a dour journey has transformed into a riotous party. Your deliveries of Christmas Cards barely raise spirits at all- unsurprising, if they were any higher, they'd be through the Roof- but they cheer for you regardless. There is wine and fish aplenty for you here.\n<<set $Menace -=10>>\nYou've lost 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\n[[Carouse!|Lost Rocks]]

His eyes widen. "I thought these were a myth! Nobody's ever brought one here, certainly not me. Which means... there's no approved protocol! To hell with it! Even if there was, I'd ignore it just for this."\n\n"Ah, but you deserve a reward, no? Here... I found this one day behind the Royal Mail. I don't know where it came from, but I can't read it. Maybe you can? You can probably sell it to the University if you can't, they'll put it in a glass case and marvel at it."\n\nHe hands you a slim volume, entitled "THE HISTORY OF NUNCIO". [[The contents of the book are written in a strange dimension, like they're for someone standing above you to read...|https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qawPCFKNGjL6htX3KK0kgRPTESE6FvVVOTxcuXLbEsA/edit]]\n<<set $RoG -=1>>\n<<set $Postal +=25>>\nYou've lost 1 x Rat of Glory (new total <<print $RoG>>).\nYou've gained 25 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\nWell, whatever, that's none of your concern any more. You have other business to attend to.\n\n[[How did you get here?|Origins]]\n[[What's with the statue?|The Royal Male]]\n[[Why is everyone here a postman?|Nuntians]]\n[[What's that... weird noise all about?|The Sigil]]\n<>\n<<if $Rat >=100>>\n[[Give him some rats|Protocol!]] \n<<endif>>\n<<if $RoG >=1>>\n[[Give him a really big rat|Protocol Abandoned]] \n<<endif>>\n<<endnobr>>\n[[No more questions!|Procession]]

You toss your stack of cards into a frothing milky pool. They sink like a stone, causing strange and exotic shapes to boil at the surface of the water. Affection, love, ironic spite; these things take physical form for brief moments, then collapse.\n\nThe Bazaar's sigils blaze mournfully; they express sadness, but not surprise; the inevitable disappointments of thousands of years. You slump, sadly, into Penstock's elevator. Even if you don't care for the Bazaar, the atmosphere in there was... mournful.\n<<set $Postal +=30>>\n<<set $Menace +=15>>\nYou've gained 30 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 15 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nThe Special Constables are long gone by the time you emerge from Penstock's. What now?\n\n[[Gently weep, then deliver some letters|Going Postal]]\n[[Sadly return to the Post Office|Mission Select 2]]

The Admirality ship runs with only a skeleton crew. Fortunately, they're too busy trying to keep the ship afloat and not eaten by crabs to find you. You don't even think the concept of a stowaway aboard even occurred to them.\n\nFor this reason, the voyage is mostly quiet, dark and still. Apart from when you passed the Iron Republic; you ended up getting into <<print either("a literary debate","an argument","a philosophical debate","a waking nightmare","a riddle contest","a lyrical clash","a barrel","an eating contest","a rousing zee-shanty song session","a party","a fistfight","a dilemma","a staring contest","a metaphysics debate","a game jam","a fruitful marital arrangement","a parlour game")>> with <<print either("an invisible force claiming to be God","oxygen","yourself","a migratory devil, just passing through","the ship","the Unterzee","the entire Republic","a barrel","a very confused Admirality operative, who assumes you're a hallucination","a hallucination","your shadow","an animate rope","your long-lost aunt","Salt","the law","a small round yellow thing","the concept of concepts","a bundle of Twine")>>. Thankfully, you were mostly unharmed, save for a few minor confusion contusions. You even learned some things along the way.\n<<set $Menace +=3>>\n<<set $Postal +=6>>\nYou've gained 3 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\nYou've gained 6 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\n\nYou barely have time to collect your thoughts after your Republican escapade when the ship slams to a halt. Looking out a porthole, you can see the light of the Elder Continent not far away. Now's your chance!\n[[Actually, maybe this isn't such a good idea. Stay put.|North]]\n[[Clamber inside a crate|Geode]]

You walk. You find nothing. You walk some more. You find some more nothing. This continues for quite some time.\n\n<<display "Rat Area 3">>

You become known as a legendary ratter, a menace to murine lifeforms everywhere. Life is chaos; your sword makes things much neater by turning rats into corpses. It's dirty work, but someone has to do it. I mean, it doesn't have to be you, but go ahead. \n\nIt doesn't take long before another, newer ratpile begins to form; a neatly stacked pyramid of marsh-rats, river-rats and many other rats besides. This is your new home, now; the only home that fits the Death of Rats. Emissaries bring you tribute, families from the Hill bring you gifts for your labours. If it's comforting to be loved, being feared is exhilarating. Emphasis on the rat.\n\nThis is an ending! Not the best ending, perhaps, but a pretty good one nevertheless. Hail Ratan!\n\nGAME END. [[RESTART?|Start]]

The Cave of the Nadir is technically extremely secret, its location known only to a select few. But you are a postman, now, and with a strange sigil burning in your mind you can find anything.\n\nThe irrigo light of the Nadir is poison to memory. When you escape, you remember little about what you found inside. \nYou think you did something with a red-haired clothier, who handed you a bottle of strange dark liquor. The Bazaar. You can remember forgetting something, but you don't know what it was. A shade of purple. You gave a skull a card. Or did you give a card a skull? Absence. You remember handing out cards to strange, forgotten sorts, who no longer remember their names. Who sent them the cards? You forget. The Sun. What were you even talking about? Huh? What? Where are you? \n\nSome memories stil cling, contextless and confusing though they are.\n<<set $Postal +=4>>\n<<set $Menace -=2>>\n\nYou've gained 4 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've lost 2 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nWere you supposed to be doing something? Did you do it already?\n[[Maybe just go back to delivering|Going Postal]]\n[[Possibly the Postmaster knows|Mission Select 2]]

You finish the last dregs of your tea, thank the postman for his time, and head outside. The postmen have stopped milling around; they are gathered with a sense of purpose at the foot of the great statue on the hill. One-by-one, they reverentially leave objects- usually rats- at the base of the statue, and then go back to gazing grumpily out at the zees.\n\n[[Wait in line]]\n[[Dash in, dump your cards on the statue, leave|Protocol Breaker]]

The Postmaster is more than happy to sign you up for a long-term employment contract. You spend many years working for the Royal Mail, burning through the days in a kind of happy tedium. Of course, most people wouldn't consider your daily tasks tedious; regular trips to the far edges of the Neath. Irem, Kingeater's Castle, the Chelonate, deep into the Elder Continent- many would consider visiting these places a kind of drawn-out suicide, but for you they're just places where you go to do a thing. Nothing shall stay you from your duty.\n\nWhen you're appointed Postmaster after less than a decade, it hardly comes as a surprise. Under your watchful eye, treaties are delivered, deals are brokered, materials and supplies arrive unharmed. Nothing shall stay your messengers from their duties either; of this, you are certain.\n\nThis is an ending! Perhaps not the best ending, but a pretty good ending. You've changed the face of the Neath forever, in your own way.\n\nGAME END. [[RESTART?|Start]]

The gathered postmen glare balefully at you as you skip the line to dump your card burden on the statue.\n\nUnkind truths flood your mind as you walk towards the dock. Things people thought but never sent, the gifts which could have turned your life around, had they not been lost in transit, the Christmas Cards you'll never receive...\n\nThat last one was just petty! But it thoroughly sours your mood, and you're left with a tremendous headache to go with it. The punishments of protocol breakers...\n<<set $Postal +=15>>\n<<set $Menace +=10>>\nYou've gained 15 x Gloom of Neath (new total <<print $Postal>>).\nYou've gained 10 x Going Postal (new total <<print $Menace>>).\n\nThe Scuttering Company have just finished up their dealings with their Nuncio Branch. They're ready to leave when you are.\n[[And you're very ready to leave now|Rat Back]]

You're pretty sure you just kinda walked in a circle. With no frame of reference, it's hard to tell... but some of those rats looked familiar.\n\n\n<<display "Rat Area 3">>