The Floating Parliament

From Sunless Skies Wiki
Jump to: navigation, search
The Floating Parliament
Parliament ambience.png
The Floating Parliament (Sidebar)
Located in Albion
Ports Cromwell's Gate
Shops Black Rod's Boutique

The Floating Parliament is a port located in the outer circle of Albion, located in the same segment as The Brabazon Workworld.

Log Entries[edit | edit source]

A flight of bats rustles past. Parliament is bedevilled by them.
You near parliament, which was transported brick-by-brick from the Neath, lovingly rebuilt in London-in-the-Sky, then exiled here when it proved incapable of doing what it was bloody well told.
"What's that?" a crewman asks, peering from the window. "Parliament," answers his colleague. "What's that?" The first one repeats.

A crewman explains the concept of democracy to the Devil. Laughter ensues.
Inspired by Parliament, the Rat Brigade votes on trying democracy. The result is vetoed.
The Eccentric rubs her temples as the spires of Parliament come into view. "I can hear them arguing from here."
The Fatalistic Signalman peers at the ruins of Parliament. "Knew she wouldn't put up with them for long."
The Inconvenient Aunt adopts a sanctimonious tone: "I hope those of you who can vote, do. It's important."
"If commoners could rule, they wouldn't need royalty." The Princess knows she is not threatened by Parliament.
"My cousin sits in the Lords. Haven't heard from him in a while." The Incautious Driver doesn't sound distressed.
"What is this for?" No explanation of the purpose of Parliament can ease the Forged Companion's bewilderment.

Cromwell's Gate[edit | edit source]

The ancient palace drifts through the void, a monument to British democracy and the greatness it believes it brought to the High Wilderness. An elderly guard watches with suspicion as you dock, but relaxes at the sight of fellow Londoners.


The People's Perpetual Protest
CrateofNostalgicCrockery.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 303690


The People's Perpetual Protest[edit | edit source]

A bell rings, and the protesters outside the Palace drop their placards for a few minutes. Servants flock through the gate bearing trays of scones and piping hot tea. Arguments over democracy pause to debate the urgent matter of whether the jam or cream should go onto the scones first.

Trigger conditions

Calendar icon.png DateClock icon.png An Opportunity at the Floating Parliament,
Clock icon.png An Opportunity at the Floating Parliament ≥ 1


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Enjoy a scone on the lawn
Nothing can go wrong while enjoying an only slightly stale bun.
A pause to reflect
You sit back on the lawn, scone in one hand and knife in the other. However, you become aware of sharp looks aimed in your direction.
Spread the jam first
The classic Cornish method.
Half of the Protest stares at you in disgust. The others nod with satisfaction.

Game note: This will reduce your Terror.

Spread the cream first
The time-honoured Devonshire approach.
Half of the Protest stares at you in disgust. The others nod with satisfaction.
Eat the scone plain
A third way, surely offending nobody.
Both sides of the Protest stare at you, silently slurping their tea with long, disapproving looks.
Enjoy a scone on the lawn
Nothing can go wrong while enjoying an only slightly stale bun.
Not like Auntie used to make
Your Aunt examines the scone with professional distaste. "I suppose one shouldn't complain," she mutters, but marches off to Have a Quiet Word with the baker, anyway. You eat the slightly stale scone, complete with lashings of jam and clotted cream.

Game note: This will reduce your Terror.


Recruit crew from the Protest
Several sign-wavers look weary. Perhaps their arms are tired.
Welcome aboard!
Sure enough, a few members of the Protest have been waiting for transport to anywhere else. They eagerly sign on, happily trading their democratic leanings for your autocratic command.
Advanced alteration value probably needs examination.



Palace of Highminster
Locomotive.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 279619


Palace of Highminster[edit | edit source]

The Empress shipped the Houses of Parliament brick by brick from Old London to the High Wilderness to help her govern. It didn't take long for her to grow weary of the questioning of her authority and have it severed from London. Parliament now drifts free in this distant corner of the sky. It continues to pass laws, but hardly anyone pays attention.


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
A welcoming party
Smiling, nervous young people greet you as you disembark. "Excuse us!" the man in the yellow rosette calls. "Excuse me! A minute of your time?"
Vox Populi
The smiling man wearing the yellow rosette cuts in first. "Captain! Join our campaign to celebrate Albion and restore old-school patriotism to the land by officially renaming Wednesday as Victoria's Day. Praise Her Renewed Majesty for all she has—"

The smiling woman wearing the green rosette effortlessly cuts in. "For killing democracy? For our subjugation? No, Captain! We must make a stand for freedom! We must show the Empress that we will not just sit idle! Join us! As we triumphantly rename her precious Victoria Sponge to The People's Cake."

They look at you with a hungry expectancy.
Vote in support of the Empress
It will be good for the calendar industry, anyway.
The two scribble down your answer. "Thank you," says the man with the yellow rosette, and turns to his opposing number. "One for me! A clear majority!" "Too bad that nobody's listening," mutters the woman in the green rosette. The two disappear towards the Palace of Highminister, where no new laws have made it onto the books in years.
Vote in opposition to the Empress
Quietly. Very quietly. There are ears everywhere.
The two scribble down your answer. "Thank you," says the woman with the green rosette, and turns to her opposing number. "One for me! A clear majority!" "Too bad that nobody's listening," mutters the man in the yellow rosette. The two disappear towards the Palace, where no new laws have made it onto the books in years.
Keep walking
What a ridiculous waste of time.
The two of them show no interest in following you. They continue looking for new arrivals willing to take part in the process – presumably ones who don't know full well that Parliament hasn't been in a position to pass laws in years.
Explore Traitor's Green
It was originally named for Cromwell. Someone clearly holds a grudge.
Drunk and disorderly
The replanted gardens are a pleasant place to enjoy a walk, though the buildings are out of bounds to casual visitors. The Empress' Gate is particularly fortified, by a heavy chain and a padlock too rusted to ever be unlocked.

A few protesters are taking a break to picnic on the lawn, away from the guards. Braver or more foolhardy ones sit on the isle's edge, swinging their legs over the sky as they eat their sandwiches.

It's near them that you spot the fellow in the suit, swaying uncertainly. His footsteps have taken him precariously close to the edge. Nobody seems to have noticed.
Run over to help
He looks like an MP. But even so...
He sees you coming. Startled, he steps back and with a drunken cry is gone – over the edge, and soon little but a dot in the swirling clouds of the Wilderness. A small army of civil servants soon swarms from the nearest gate, staring over the edge, agreeing what appalling timing and manners the fellow had, and already arguing over whether the most appropriate memorial would be a bronze plaque on a bench or a new ficus somewhere within the Parliamentary halls. A tap on your shoulder distracts you. A tall clerk, flanked by two Clay Men. "Excuse us." He glances you up and down. "Yes, very suitable. A moment of your time?"
Sit back and watch
Mr Darwin would no doubt approve.
The drunk man peers over the edge and begins relieving himself. Finished and content, he bends over to adjust his clothing and topples over into the abyss.

A small army of civil servants soon swarms from the nearest gate, peering over and already arguing over who will buy the memorial sapling. They do not seem particularly shocked or surprised, merely inconvenienced.

A tap on your shoulder distracts you. "Excuse us." He glances you up and down. "Yes, very suitable. A moment of your time?"
Accompany the Felined Eccentric and Beleth to watch a session of the House
There is still a public gallery in Parliament, though it is little-used and thick with dust. Beleth perches on the rail that divides it from the floor, and watches curiously.
    • Affiliationacadame icon.png Beleth = 10 [Convince Beleth to leave by taking him to the Floating Parliament, or drive him away by acquiring Impossible Roses at Caduceus]

    • Felinedeccentric icon.png Felined Eccentric ≥ 1 [The Felined Eccentric has boarded your locomotive.]

The debate
It takes some time to work out that the Members of Parliament are arguing over whether the House's lunch hour should routinely be at twelve or at one.

The discussion is a passionate one. There are references to Hastings, to Waterloo, to Cromwell. One MP threatens to tear up the Magna Carta.

To them, words are weapons of war. Deployed like flights of arrows to wither a rivals' reputation, like sappers to undermine an argument, or like boiling pitch to drive a foe from the walls of your case.

Beleth begins to purr. His claws sink into the wood, splintering it. Quietly, you and the Eccentric slip away, leaving him to preside over the debates like a philosopher-king of old.
Enter the House of Commons
A pair of particularly tough Clay Men guard the entrance. They never blink. Only Ministers and MPs are permitted through this entrance.
Enter the House of Lords
Her Renewed Majesty's favourite Lords were escorted to the luxury of the Serene Mausoleum. Nobody has heard from the rest in years.
The end of the party
The eye-burning stink of ammonia hits you first, followed by the buzzing of flies. The Lords sit dead at their benches, surrounded by the empty bottles with which they happily drank themselves into oblivion. Pools of maggots writhe on the floor and drip off tables, fed for generations on the copious bounty of their Lordships' necrotic flesh. But Parliamentary protocol must be carried out. You clear your throat and officially propose the Dignity of Albion Bill to the audience's empty eye-sockets and hollow ears. It is a lengthy bill, but the Lords are polite enough to listen in silence. There are, thankfully, no objections.
Visit the Victoria Tower
First it was the King's Tower. Now it stands as a tribute to the Empress. Everybody avoids it if they possibly can.
A sinister meeting
You climb the stairs past opulent rooms that now play host to little but dust, moths and the occasional sleeping bat. On the top floor, the First Secretary looks out at Albion through an open window, its panes encrusted with years of neglect. "You came," he says. "Perhaps we can be saved after all."
Compile a Port Report
Parliament has seen better days.
The last bulwark
While the palace is off-limits to most, there are always ministers and civil servants whose busy schedules allow a moment for a free drink. You ask the obvious question. What is the point of Parliament when Her Renewed Majesty never gives her assent to any of its proposed laws? They bristle. Tyrants fall. Democracy endures.
Observe the People's Perpetual Protest
A rag-tag mob of protesters has set up camp on the lawn. No two want the same thing, but their cacophonous chanting is impressive.
Sound and fury, signifying business as usual
Parliament has little power, but at least there is a chance it might listen. That is more than protesters can expect at the Throne of Hours. The protesters raise their voices with a spirit of camaraderie and a united belief that words can still make the world a better place, with neither anger in their words nor violence in their demands. At three on the dot, the huge portcullis opens and the protesters are served tea, scones and little cucumber sandwiches cut into triangles. A little recognition of the protesters' ongoing service to this most vital part of British democracy.
Join the protest
You have opinions to get off your chest.
You scream until hoarse, wave borrowed placards and invent witty slogans that trip off the tongue and are quickly picked up by those around you. The world does not seem a notably better place as a result of all this protesting. Still, even a tiny ripple has the potential to become a tidal wave.

Advanced query needs investigation

Ignore the protest
You have better things to do with your time.
The crowd continues raging against whatever it is they disapprove of. You leave them to it and return to the quieter, more civilised greenery of the main lawn.
Ask about the disgraced former courtier
She had friends in Parliament. Perhaps they might be willing to fill in a little of her history for you.
The MP for Lesser Richmond is puttering about the corridors. She sputters into her handkerchief when you mention the courtier's name. She asks you to wait in her office while she fetches the courtier's friend.

A bewhiskered undersecretary appears in the doorway. He offers you the MP's ginger biscuits and a drab of her whiskey. He makes sure the door is firmly closed before he'll tell you anything.

Eventually, he finishes, quite red-faced. You are given to understand the throne was thoroughly cleaned afterwards. The same cannot be said for the courtier's reputation.


Find the Race Marshal
Lord Rochester is propping himself up at the Estranged Bar. He needs to confirm you've reached the Floating Parliament.
Lord Rochester regards you with bleary-eyed delight. "How sensational!", he brays, with rather more esses than are usual. "Jolly glad you made it. Care for a tipple?" He shakes his head. "No, you'd best be on your way." He waves you back to your engine, but not before thrusting a few bottles into your arms for the return leg.
Help the Incautious Driver hunt for the Verdant Fragment
Their connection to its progenitor should assist.

Game note: The more places you search, the easier your search will get. Failing here will not harm your quest.

Failed event

Special is calculated as follows: 70 * 1.67


A failed attempt
The Incautious Driver spends hours sniffing at the air in search of familiar spores, but to no avail. "We should try somewhere else," they reluctantly decide, shuffling with uncharacteristic glumness back towards the train.
Successful event
A taste on the wind
The Driver sniffs at the air for any hint of loose Verdant spores dragged in by passing travellers. "I can taste something. A fear. Not death, but the loss of something important. The Fragment doesn't want to return. It doesn't want to give up what it's become."

They close their eyes, focusing. "I can can taste its design, as well. Its... host knew of a place called Hostrop Deep: a desolate corner of the sky. It meant to hide there. The Deep will be hard to find. When we're close, we'll need to use our scout."

The Deep [Directions are given here].
The First Secretary
Secretary.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 279629


The First Secretary[edit | edit source]

He sits at a huge, mahogany desk in prestigious Downing Corridor. Your conversation doesn't distract him from writing notes in the margins of endless pieces of paperwork. He pauses his scribbling only to sip from a large cup of stone-cold tea, or to scratch his head with the pen's long, silver nib.


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Discuss business
He looks down his nose at you with the grim expression of a headmaster waiting for an excuse to break out his favourite birch rod.
"Ah, the Captain. A moment. Do take a seat."
"Tea? Ah, yes. I will call for some tea. The loss of our dear Minister for—" he hesitates, covertly checking a file— "Election Called(CalledIn), yes, is a tragedy. But we must move on. You seem just the sort I'm looking for. Lucid. Breathing. Have you considered a career in politics?"

He holds up a hand. "No, I do not care about history or affiliations. A bum in the chair will suffice. The Department of Albion Affairs would be a suitable starting point. If you are interested, I will set the wheels in motion."

Game note: Visit the former Minister's port if you wish to stand for election.


Ask about the Dignity of Albion Bill
You've done your part so far. What's the next step?
"Not here, you fool!"
The First Secretary gestures down the corridor. "Anybody could be listening," he whispers. He slides something to you from his side of the table. A key. "The Empress' Tower. Tonight. Come alone."

Game note: You can keep this appointment by visiting the Palace of Highminster.


Discuss the future of Parliament
"Ah, Minister. I have something I wish to show you."
The Dignity of Albion
The First Secretary leads the way to the Prince's Chamber, where a statue of Victoria stands. The face has been chipped off. "A rare survivor from before the Fall of London," he sighs. "When Britain was Great. I had hoped Her Renewed Majesty's restoration of Parliament would mean a return to those days. Alas, as you have seen, it was a token gesture from an increasingly tyrannical monarch." He turns. "I need you to present a law for me: the Dignity of Albion bill. As a mere civil servant, I cannot do so myself. However, while I prepare the ground, I need your help with another matter. The Empress' Royal Astronomer is currently enjoying a forced vacation in Carillon. He is trustworthy. Take him to the great telescope of the Royal Society and request the Final Testament of the Old Sun. I know, I speak in vagaries. I apologise, but it is necessary for all of our safety. All will be explained when you return."
Ask about the state of Parliament
Where is the Prime Minister? Shouldn't they be running things?
A sharp intake of breath
"Very good question, Minister. Unfortunately, our illustrious leader decided it would be a better use of his time to take a boat into the Flooded Cellars. Where the wine is, you know. I am not sure how many bottles are there, simply awaiting a net, but they say that the deeper you go, the finer the vintages that one might find. I suppose I should send a search party when time permits. Until then, I really must finish this paperwork."
Ask about the political situation
Nobody seems to have any party affiliations here.
A regretful sigh
"Ah. You noticed. Yes, these days Parliament is split along rather less productive lines.

"We have the Committee for Radical Sovereignty, devoted to finding ever more inventive ways to cling to the Empress' mighty skirts. The Subcommittee for Public Restoration would be as happy to see her gone, but has yet to come up with any workable plans. Finally, the Select Committee for the Chiltern Hundreds likes things as they are. With all three pulling in their own directions, it is no surprise that little gets done around here."

He pauses. "You may have wondered why I was so eager to bring some new blood into our little family; to wit, yourself. I trust now you have an inkling."
Ask about himself
What is his role in the Parliamentary system?
Primus inter pares
"Minister, I am but a humble functionary. It was my proud duty to serve the elected Prime Minister in an administrative capacity, and as and when we are able to conduct an election, I trust it will be my privilege to continue for his successor. "Until then, my focus is on restoring this once august establishment to greatness, even if it it means dragging Albion kicking and screaming back to the troublesome necessities of democratic process."
Return to the House of Commons
You both have much to be getting on with.



The House of Commons
Parliament ambience.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 279621


The House of Commons[edit | edit source]

The wheels of government continue to turn, but its halls have seen better days. Most are green-tinged from decades submerged in the Stolen River, during that unusual historical interlude when London was stolen by bats. Water still drips from unseen reservoirs of damp. Even so, the House remains a hive of favour-trading, drinks-promising and constant debate.

Trigger conditions

Floatingparliament icon.png Politics and Knavish Tricks ≥ 10

Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Take over the Department for Albion Affairs
A Loquacious Civil Servant strides up to greet you. "Ah, Minister. Right on time."
The Department of Albion Affairs
The Loquacious Civil Servant glides through the labyrinthine house with an ease it took a career to acquire. "This way, Minister. Do step over the drunks in the hall. Journalists, you know. Old habits die hard. Ah, here we go. Your new dominion." He pushes open the door. Your new department's carpeted floor squishes underfoot. Almost nobody glances up as you enter. You are, after all, just the next Minister in a long chain of distractions to their work.
Explore Parliament
You have full access to the House of Commons now, and all its amenities.
A faded empire
Parliament's green-stained halls are hardly what they used to be. Forty years ago, when the bats dragged London deep beneath the earth, its new cloaked Masters stripped the place of its gold and finery. Only the two Houses themselves – the Commons and the Lords – have been properly refurnished. Everyone else makes do. The journalistic lobby has set up a basic printing press in the Estranged Bar, with the New Ministries established in any spare room or corridor. Occasionally, between the drinks and debates, some work gets done.
Visit your Ministerial Department
No doubt the Ministerial Office(Office) is lost without its leader.
Visit the First Secretary
You don't need an appointment. As a Minister, he technically works for you.
Head back outside
The damp air quickly gets oppressive. A short walk would be good.
Disrupt proceedings with a perfect pangolin
The sessions tend to be droning and dull, but you're provisioned with a pangolin of unparalleled perfection.
Order!
You slide into a session and seat yourself in the back, your footsteps swallowed by the slow, sloppy rhetoric of the MPs. How boring. You should remedy this.

Discreetly, you lift your Perfect Pangolin up and whisper to the gleaming nub of her ear. She salutes – beautifully, of course – and races away to interrupt the funerary drivel.

As expected, the Perfect Pangolin performs exquisitely, exciting the session to astonished conversation. The two of you are quickly evicted – although not before you've glutted yourself on gossip.

Advanced query needs investigation

Game note: You have exhausted this opportunity for now.



Your Ministerial Department
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 279627


Your Ministerial Department[edit | edit source]

"The Ministerial Office(Office) is a windowless, airless place at the top of many staircases. Outside your tiny office, a small regiment of clerks led by a Loquacious Civil Servant busies itself with reports and paperwork, then carefully files it all away in an elaborate system designed to ensure nobody ever sees any of it again."

Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Ask about the Will of the People
How do you begin making a new law?
Democracy in action
"A simple matter, Minister," oozes the Loquacious Civil Servant. "Those around Albion territory, which is to say Albion herself and the more... civilised corners of the Reach... will often present themselves upon your arrival with their problems and little requests. Listen, return here, and your humble servants will put the wheels of government into motion."
You have an important message waiting
"Minister. The First Secretary asked me to give you this."
An urgently written note
It comes scribbled in the margin of a document about wheat production, written in sharp red capitals. COME SEE ME. AT ONCE. MOST IMPORTANT. ALBION MUST RISE AGAIN. BRING BLACK INK.
Visit the First Secretary
As First-among-equals, he knows more about Parliament than anyone. A useful font of information.
Contact the First Secretary about the Dignity of Albion Bill
What is your next step with this dangerous document?
Your messenger returns looking nervous
"Uh. He said, and I quote, Minister, to tell 'that idiot' to show a little decorum and that anyone could be listening. Yes. He also said I should give you this and say— what was it? Yes. The Empress' Tower. Tonight. Come alone. Also, he said I'm fired. Am I fired, Minister? I really need this job."
Present the Dignity of Albion Bill
The First Secretary has fired up the whips in your absence. It is time to present it to the House.
A house united
The bought MPs wave the Dignity of Albion Bill through before you are halfway through your opening statement. Those who would have opposed it watch the shadows, fearfully.

The House votes overwhelmingly for Her Renewed Majesty to once again respect the decisions of Parliament and the people it occasionally represents. Just as overwhelming is the relief of every other MP that they aren't the ones with their names on the bill.

The First Secretary meets you afterwards. "Excellent. Very good. Just to cross our 't's, however, I think we should run this through the House of Lords for their approval. I'm sure I have the key somewhere. Ah, here we go. Just a formality, you understand."
Consult the Loquacious Civil Servant
What is your role here, exactly?
The short version
“Minister, the traditional vocation of both this office and one in your esteemed position is to take upon the duty and indeed burden of establishing and integrating new legislation of a beneficial yet cost-effective nature for the pan-Albion citizenry, with a twin focus on problem-elimination and controversy-avoidance paradigms. (1)"

The greater efficiency we demonstrate at this, on at least a prima facie basis, the greater slice of the budgetary pie will be allocated to our department, and the greater Parliamentary status you personally, Minister, shall enjoy. (2) With ascendancy comes reward. Minor ones, as Ministerial salaries are currently primarily a barter-based economy for beverages of noted alcoholic form due to a most regrettable budget shortfall in non-functionary related positions that are typically compensated through prestige. (3)"

"However," he adds, less than enthusiastically, "I do understand that Parliamentary envoys at Her Renewed Majesty’s most celebrated Throne enjoy some budgetary flexibility to reward completed law-related projects, in gratitude for the demonstration of their continued purpose and presence at the moderate-to-highest levels of government. (4)"

He smiles a thin, tight smile. "I believe that covers the basics. I can give you the longer version if you would prefer?"

[(1) Make Laws (2) The more Laws you pass, the higher your status (3) We can't afford to pay you.

(4) Exchange Laws for Sovereigns at the Throne of Hours.]
Make a new law
Time to get to the business of government.

Game note: You can learn the Will of the People at ports around Albion and the Reach. Bring it here to be the foundation of a new Bill. You will be working on this Bill for a week, and unable to leave until it is passed or rejected.


Return to the House
It gets stuffy in here. Time for some moderately fresh air.



Treasonous Talk in the Victoria Tower
Secretary.png
Category Story Event
Type Story
Data ID 279902


Treasonous Talk in the Victoria Tower[edit | edit source]

The First Secretary stares out at Albion. "We were told that the Empress conquered Albion's sun, and founded our new Enduring Empire on its ashes. A lie. Now, with your help, we have proof. Albion's sun, its Judgement, was extinguished long before we came here."


Interactions

Actions Requirements Effects Notes
Ask for more details
Why all the secrecy?
Finders keepers
"Don't you see? Without right of conquest, we are no better than squatters in this territory. Albion no more belongs to us than a dog belongs to its fleas! Or so I believe the other suns would see it. The closest sun rules the Blue Kingdom. Were the truth to come out, it would not sit idly by.

"In that truth, there is opportunity. A chance to restore order, to dethrone the Empress and her Clockwork Sun. To restore the will of the people (through their duly appointed representatives and humble functionaries, naturally.)"

He turns back to the view. "We would be holding an empire hostage to coerce its monarch into doing the right thing. But it is the price of dignity. It is worth paying."
Agree to the plan
Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it is simply better he believes you think so.
United in treachery
The First Secretary breathes a sigh of relief. "I knew that I could count on you. Together, we will restore democracy for the next thousand years. Here. I have prepared everything you require. Take it to the Blue Kingdom. I fear I cannot protect you from the Empress' likely wrath. I can only promise that any sacrifice you make will not be in vain."
Push the traitor from the Tower
His back is turned. It would only take a touch.
Downfall
The First Secretary turns to hear your response just in time to see you coming for him. He shields his face, not realising that your aim is lower. You shove, and he falls backwards through the window and away into the void. You quickly forge a suicide note and pin it to the wall. It isn't long. In his honour, you restrict yourself to scribbling it in the margins of a memo about pork production. But then you are gone. Both the Albion Bill and the Royal Astronomer's notes are safely in your possession, and no one is any the wiser about their contents.
Refuse to get involved with this
This is not what you agreed to.
An unsurprising reaction
The First Secretary glances back at you and then back out at Albion. "A pity. I had thought your Ministerhood suited you. Perhaps I misjudged. If you will not do what must be done, I will find another who will. Your seat can be refilled."
Agree to deliver the Albion Bill
On second thoughts...
The First Secretary breathes a sigh of relief. "I knew that I could count on you. Together, we will restore democracy for the next thousand years. Here. I have prepared everything you require. Take it to the Blue Kingdom. I fear I cannot protect you from the Empress' likely wrath. I can only promise that any sacrifice you make will not be in vain."
Push him from the Tower
You will not be spoken to thus.
The First Secretary turns to hear your response just in time to see you coming for him. He shields his face, not realising that your aim is lower. You shove, and he falls backwards through the window and away into the void. You quickly forge a suicide note and pin it to the wall. It isn't long. In his honour, you restrict yourself to scribbling it in the margins of a memo about pork production. But then you are gone. Both the Albion Bill and the Royal Astronomer's notes are safely in your possession, and no one is any the wiser about their contents.
Give up your position
He can keep it.
You leave the First Secretary staring out at the skies. By the time you return to your office, the word is out. Nobody will meet your eye. The Loquacious Civil Servant is silent as he takes your key. Your parliamentary career is over.

Shops[edit | edit source]

Black Rod's Boutique

Operating from a forgotten, cupboard-sized office, the once-esteemed official known as Black Rod now sells sandwiches from the parliamentary canteen. In addition, in order to raise funds, he can also be persuaded to part with exhibits from Parliament's extensive collections of crockery.

Item Buy Sell
Supplies square icon.png Supplies Sovereigns icon.png 40 Sovereigns Sovereigns icon.png 20 Sovereigns
CrateofNostalgicCrockery square icon.png Crate of Nostalgic Crockery Sovereigns icon.png 50 Sovereigns