Deep in the bowels of London is a workhouse. A secret workhouse no one knows of. Until, that is, you are suddenly orphaned. Then you know all about it, only because, immediately after your parents funeral, you are sent directly to the workhouse, never to be seen again....

The name of this workhouse is the Nameless. No one knows for sure why it was named the Nameless, but the orphans figure it's either because no one knows about it or, possibly, because the warden was just too lazy to name it.

There is another name, though. The orphans in Nameless call it Hades the Second. I haven't quite figured out why. Maybe you could help me understand it as I tell you more about our little facility.

Once taken from the streets of London, you are escorted into what looks to be an abandoned warehouse. What no one knows is that it is actually the secret entrance to the Nameless. Now, how, you ask, are we able to keep young hooligans from acting upon curiosity and entering the building? Are there booby traps? Guards posted at every entrance? No. The truth is nothing more than a simple rumor. The good people of London believe that the warehouse is haunted by an evil spirit. And if you happen upon the warehouse and enter the place, you will be cursed and doomed to walk the face of the earth for all of eternity. No matter how many people claim to be searching for the famed "Fountain of Youth," once given the opportunity, they will run for the farthest hill. It's odd, but that's humanity, I suppose. So, there is your answer. If it's human nature to be superstitious, why shouldn't we harness it and use it to our advantage?

Upon entering the warehouse, you will find a large tin wall. The wall is actually a secret panel which leads into a large room. You will enter the room and your guide will use the rope and pulley to begin your descent into your new home. A sudden vibration will make you reconsider your choice to enter this seemingly unsafe contraption, but trust me, you are beyond safe. The vibrations will continue and will increase as you suddenly realize the contraption is moving down. You will clutch the handrails so tightly your knuckles will turn red, then white. You will close your eyes, tightly, waiting for the moment that you will jolt to a stop. That moment will come a full fifteen minutes later.

The first thing you will notice upon entering the Nameless, is the walls. The walls around you will glow orange from the flames that are only inches below your feet. That's where the defects are sent. Don't worry. I'm talking about the defective railways, not you orphans. No, you defective orphans will be sent to yet another workhouse, called the LimitBound. One where your "special needs" will be put to work. But those of you who are quite capable of normal tasks, will be sent to the main workhouse, which we have established as the Nameless, one in which you will be accomplishing more challenging tasks. One of the main tasks is to keep the furnaces burning. Don't worry, darlings, it will only set a mere two hundred degrees higher than lawful. Once you get used to the awful burning sensation, your days will go a lot smoother.


You may be asking yourself, what exactly is this workhouse working so hard to make? Well, have you ever heard of the City and South London Railway? No matter. Once you become settled in your new home, you will be working your fingers to the bone BUILDING the railway. Fun, fun, am I correct? Of course I am.

Oh, and don't you worry your pretty little heads about meals. No, no, you are given one square meal each and every day. Although if your work is below expectations, you will be punished with zero square meals a day. Tut, tut, such a shame. Now, there is an upside! Yes, if your work exceeds the expectations of the warden and the guards, ahem, supervisors, you will be rewarded with TWO square meals that day. Now there is something to look forward, hm?



Now, your head is probably reeling with even more questions. Well, go on, then. Ask away! Adulthood? Oh! What happens once you reach the legal age? Well, the workhouse is legally made to release all orphans upon their 18th birthday. But, don't worry, on the day of your 18th birthday, you will mysteriously vanish from existence.

Why, exactly? Rumors have been circulating about this very issue since the workhouse’s opening almost one hundred fifty years ago:


Upon the day of your birthday, instead of releasing you, they will send to yet another workhouse. One for adults.

Or possibly, the world isn't quite like you remember. Maybe it's an evil, vile place, where, if you don't know how to survive, you'll immediately be vanquished.

Although the orphans have some good and imaginative ideas, neither of these, nor any of the other hundred or so ideas, are correct. There's only one truth behind these disappearances.

Since no one will know about you and the other orphans who are being tortured in this underground hell, no one would know if you simply no longer existed. So what if you didn't? Exactly! On the day of your 18th birthday, you would suddenly no longer exist. Now, you must be asking yourself, how is that possible? Well, it's actually quite possible. It's quite simple, also. All we have to do is have you, the newly turned adult, gather all your meager belongings, telling you only that you are about to be released. But what you don't know, no, no, is that you are not being released into London. No, there would be far too many questions. And, obviously, we couldn't risk having the GLA (or Greater London Authority, for those of you who don't know) investigating our little facility. No, you would not be released into the world at all, actually. Into a flame filled bed you would go, and then off to your eternal home. Then, the bed will be put away until the next poor soul reaches that dreadful day.


Oh, dear me. I've been chattering on about all these dreadful matters. Now, you will be quite nervous to come join us. But don't be. It's actually quite a nice place, once you get used to, well, the heat, the close quarters, and, hehe, the smell of burning flesh.

Anyhoo, welcome. And, please, enjoy your stay at the Nameless.