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| An Exhibition of Unsettling Portraits | |
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| Category | Story Event |
| Type | Story |
| Data ID | 291125 |
An Exhibition of Unsettling Portraits is a Sunless Skies Story Event.
Story description[]
The Popular Portraitist has found success with impressionist portraits of his latest muse, who is – he claims – a devil. A small crowd of refined tastes mingle, drink adequate wine, and concoct elaborate theories on the messages hidden in the paintings.
Trigger conditions[]
Area: Limbo
Frequency: Always (100%)
Interactions[]
| Actions | Requirements | Effects | Notes |
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| Examine the portraits
Each depicts his muse (who is, people speculate, his mistress) in a different pose or tableaux, and is prefixed Portrait of a Devil.
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A fervid imagination
His work is striking. In each piece, he takes his muse's perfect features – her delicate lips, her impeccable nose, her amber eyes, the parabolic arches of her eyebrows – and arranges them in impossible configurations upon her face.
In A Study in Solemnity one of her eyes gazes at you from the centre of her forehead. In To Muse at Midnight her mouth splays diagonally across a cheek.
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| Follow him to his muse's residence
Where is he keeping her? And who is she, really? You could lurk outside the gallery, and follow him when he leaves.
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Losing the trail
He leaves late, one hand securing his hat against a stiff sea breeze. You follow him beneath the lamp-posts and into a tangle of backstreets and yards, where he vanishes after rounding a corner. It is as if he disappeared into the shadows beyond the gaslight. Where did he go?
Worlebury-juxta-Mare
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Game note: You may be able to pick up his trail elsewhere in Worlebury.
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| Ask about his work and his muse
You hear the devils are not pleased with his work.
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Hell hath fury
The Brazen Magistrate in London has called his work 'a spiteful and irresponsible act of artistic calumny'. Carillon's Presiding Deviless calls him "a grisly panderer of avaricious character."
The Portraitist pales. "If Hell is angry with me," he says, "imagine their opinion of my muse. No, do not ask me about her. I will say nothing." Technically, the devils who followed London into the heavens are unaffiliated with Hell, which they left behind. They are pariahs, now. Still, old terminologies die hard, especially among those inclined to poetry.
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| Take your leave
Return to the town, and the uncanny odours of the mist-sea.
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Worlebury-juxta-Mare
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Links[]
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