Post by RAE on Nov 15, 2009 1:44:41 GMT -5
The year is 1834 in London–the city of dashed hopes and lost dreams.
Never sleeping for fear of not waking up. Lurking in the shadows of eighteenth century England,
London is the biggest city under the reign of his majesty–and the worst. One cannot
blink for risk of being attacked; bodies have been left to rot in the gutter when
investigations come to a halt; criminals are left to roam wild and the streets are no
place for those without defence. Not even the wicked can escape the devil and the
innocent are slaughtered for crimes they did not commit.
Nevertheless, the thriving inner-city is well-known for its entertainment; festivals,
bear baiters and illegal circus travellers. The smell of freshly baked bread and the
butcher’s meat fills the smoggy air. Little girls in pretty dresses skip merrily across a
hopscotch scrawled on the ground, while ragamuffins chase the chickens, only to be
scolded by an irritated gentleman arm-in-arm with his wife, holding a parasol over her
head–a wise choice given most of the residents throw the contents of their chamber
pots from the upper windows. During the day there’s never a moment of silence, not
even drowned out by the sound of Big Ben chiming in the distance or the church bells
ringing for service. At night the streets are alive with drunken stragglers and the
occasional wench offering her services.
The royals dance to their masquerade balls. The nobles mingle at Mrs Nextdoor’s
dinner parties. The knights fight their epic battles and the civilians go about their daily
business. The poor children slave away in the workhouses while the gypsies dance for
shillings. The outlaws roam the land while pirates rule the seas. The year is 1834 in London.
Down with the king!
z6.invisionfree.com/Down_with_the_king/index.php?
Never sleeping for fear of not waking up. Lurking in the shadows of eighteenth century England,
London is the biggest city under the reign of his majesty–and the worst. One cannot
blink for risk of being attacked; bodies have been left to rot in the gutter when
investigations come to a halt; criminals are left to roam wild and the streets are no
place for those without defence. Not even the wicked can escape the devil and the
innocent are slaughtered for crimes they did not commit.
Nevertheless, the thriving inner-city is well-known for its entertainment; festivals,
bear baiters and illegal circus travellers. The smell of freshly baked bread and the
butcher’s meat fills the smoggy air. Little girls in pretty dresses skip merrily across a
hopscotch scrawled on the ground, while ragamuffins chase the chickens, only to be
scolded by an irritated gentleman arm-in-arm with his wife, holding a parasol over her
head–a wise choice given most of the residents throw the contents of their chamber
pots from the upper windows. During the day there’s never a moment of silence, not
even drowned out by the sound of Big Ben chiming in the distance or the church bells
ringing for service. At night the streets are alive with drunken stragglers and the
occasional wench offering her services.
The royals dance to their masquerade balls. The nobles mingle at Mrs Nextdoor’s
dinner parties. The knights fight their epic battles and the civilians go about their daily
business. The poor children slave away in the workhouses while the gypsies dance for
shillings. The outlaws roam the land while pirates rule the seas. The year is 1834 in London.
Down with the king!
z6.invisionfree.com/Down_with_the_king/index.php?