

Condensation from the cavern's roof, the sloughed chitin of enormous insects, or the dandruff of a tonsorially careless God? In any case, catching snowflakes on your tongue is probably a bad idea. Snow in the Neath? The snow that falls in the Neath every December is something of a mystery. Tears? Or is the sea leaking from the world above? Snow in the Neath? How is it that snow falls in the Neath? It doesn't taste exactly like frozen water. The brass is horribly corroded, but the lenses are essentially intact. It can be seen in the Museum of Mistakes to this very day. The microscope that was used still exists. The learned men of the Department of Chiropterochronometry have attempted to incorporate it into their theories of bat rotation. Snow in the Neath? The Neath's annual snowfall has been studied. There may be no ill effects from handling the stuff that, in the Neath, they affectionately describe as 'snow.'

Snow in the Neath? The snow that falls in the Neath is used to make snowballs, to roll snowmen, and to torment the kind of children who are always tormented at school. Ask them what's wrong with the snow on the ground, and they shrug. Snow in the Neath? In December, enterprising urchins sell bags of snow in Big King Square, even as the stuff lies in drifts around them.
#Sunless sea soulless windows
Snow in the Neath? How does one manage a thing that is so patently not snow, and yet so resembles it? Does one leave it hygienically inside quotes? 'Snow'? Does one shrug and regard it as a blessing from the Bazaar? Does one lock one's doors and windows and hide quaking below stairs, while the servants build the fire high and stuff the window-cracks with rags? I have developed a dislike of zee-captains. I do not expect I will ever dare to release it. The one that lives is locked in the cellar now. Three of my cats tasted the goo when I left it unobserved a moment too long. Snow in the Neath? There's a zee-captain down at Wolfstack Docks who claims you can render Neath-snow into white glim on any kitchen stove. Unless you have a rare flask of Hesperidean Cider, perhaps. Once you've been shot, you're down here for ever. Of course this amnesty from death does not extend to the surface. Old age and disease still take their toll, but a small stabbing or shooting can often be mended with an apology and some deft needlework. Why is Hesperidean Cider so sought-after? Death is not always permanent in Fallen London.

This permits the practice of the violent but strangely boyish game of murderous gentlemen's tag called the Game of Knife-and-Candle. What is the Game of Knife-and-Candle? Death is not always permanent in Fallen London. This has caused the quiet and unacknowledged revision of certain passages in the bibles of the City's churches. What happens when you die in Fallen London? Death is not always permanent in Fallen London. This gives rise to a peculiar overlap between the funeral parlour and the sanatorium. But in any case, once you die and return to life down here, you'll never be permitted to return to the surface.unless you're one of the few who find a way to immortality. If you die of old age or disease, or if you're hacked to pieces, it's a more serious matter. If you're drowned, you'll wake with a hangover. If you're stabbed or shot, someone may come along and sew you back together soon enough. What happens when you die in Fallen London? Death in the Fifth City isn't necessarily the end. These are hints relating to life in the Neath.
