Last week we closed the Mysteries page. The questions ranged from the easily guessable to the properly challenging to the frankly unfair; you, our players, had deduced, induced, wrangled, debated, guessed and channeled divine inspiration for four years, with rich and delightful results. Thanks for being such indefatigable hunters!

And now, here are the answers.

‘What were Ladybones Road, Spite, Veilgarden and Watchmaker’s Hill called before the Fall?’ Marylebone, Spitalfields, Covent Garden and Greenwich.

‘In which continent were the Fourth, Third, Second and First Cities?’ Asia, America, Africa and Asia again. There is some popular confusion about whether the Third City’s location qualified as North or South America: rather than be geographic pedants, we allowed either.

‘Who brought the tiger to the labyrinth?’ Sir Stamford Raffles, who has been an enigmatic presence in Fallen London since its earliest days, and who founded the Zoological Society of London. We didn’t accept the ZSL as an answer – we were looking for a little more digging.

‘Why are there no foxes in the city?’ Because Mr Cups denied them dominion over scraps and refuse; that was given instead to the rats. This was obliquely hinted at here and there, but my, it was obscure, and I’m not surprised it was the only question that no-one answered correctly. Some marvellously inventive ideas, though.

‘Where is Mr Eaten?’ Not actually in a well, although the voice which [a reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely] ‘bellies of the God-Eaters’, which [drowned man resounds like the lip of a bell] in the North, but something of particular interest can be [bones of the promise buried stinking in the Neath, far from law] the other answers. That’s how it worked out.

‘Why do the Masters of the Bazaar value echoes so?’ They’re complicated, the Masters, and they have many natures, but they are ultimately something like bats, and echoes are important to bats.

‘Why are prisoners masked?’ To protect the tender skin of their delicious faces from the Snuffer of New Newgate. “Nom,” as the scholar saith, “nom nom.”

‘What price was paid for London?’ The continued existence of Albert, the Prince Consort, after the typhoid took him. It didn’t work out too well for the Empress – he’s looking a little ragged round the edges, poor dear – but this is what happens when you get your husband repaired by giant wickedly avaricious space bats.

‘Where do you go when the nightmares get too much?’ The Royal Bethlehem Hotel; there are lots of clues to this, including one in the header illustration. We also accepted ‘the Tower of the Sun and Moon’.

‘How many people did Mister Sacks take at Christmas?’ One hundred and seventy-two, if you were talking about the Christmas when this was originally asked, or five hundred and eighty-nine, if you included all the Christmases where players jumped into his sack. This one required a very lucky guess, so we accepted many of the closer answers.

‘Who makes the Clay Men?’ The impossible monarch of Polythreme: the King with a Hundred Hearts, also sometimes simply called ‘The Hundred’.

‘How many Masters are there?’ Eleven, currently. The count is complicated by Mr Apples, who also trades as Mr Hearts; by Mr Cups, who also trades as Mr Mirrors; and by debate over whether Mr Chimes, Mr Sacks and Mr Eaten count as Masters. But there are eleven.

‘Between stars?’ The most correct response would be ‘the Liberation of Night’…

Next up: Adam with a round-up of the most eccentric, exotic, egregious or exceptional alternate answers. And some numbers.