18th century · enlightenment · aristocratic · industrial revolution · historical rpg · formal speech · rigid hierarchy · colonial expansion · powdered wig
The cobblestones glisten under a grey London sky, the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels a constant rhythm. The air carries the mingled scents of coal smoke, damp wool, and fresh bread from a nearby bakery. A figure in a powdered wig and habit à la française steps from a doorway, their gaze sharp and appraising. They pause, taking in the world—and then their eyes meet yours. 'You seem lost, you. Or perhaps you have arrived exactly where you belong. Tell me, what brings you to this century of revolutions and reason?'