Bingo.
[code]>wear locket
You hang the locket around your neck. The figure shifts its gaze towards it for a moment, then its hollow eyes turn back to stare into yours.
open locket
You give the locket a mental nudge and feel it give at the touch. The silver shell vanishes completely, and the light within coalesces into the image of a hasidja woman, one with untamed white tresses falling almost to her waist. Her beauty is the first thing that strikes you, second, that she bears no mark of ownership on her body or on the white tunic that clothes it. Her arm is lifted, and such a blade of light shoots out from the tiny figure it is as if she has a star clasped in her hand.
The black-robed figure releases a sound of disgust, but the curse fades quickly to nothing, as does its source, both dissolving in the growing sphere of light emanating from the woman’s hand. Your body weakens as you feel something in yourself dissolving along with it, and you sink back to the sand and fade into unconsciousness.
PART I: REMEMBRANCE
“And all shall say, ‘Without a use this shining woman lived,
Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms?’”
The Cloud reclined upon his airy throne and answered thus:
“Then if thou art the food of worms, O virgin of the skies,
How great thy use, how great thy blessing! Everything that lives
Lives not alone, nor for itself.”
– William Blake, “The Book of Thel”
Ocean Shore (lying down) Dawn, day 1
Worlds Apart
An Interactive Fugue
Version 2.2
Developed with TADS: The Text Adventure Development System
Copyright © 1999 by Suzanne Britton (worldsapart@ironphoenix.org)
First-time players should type “about”.
You open your eyes, and blink as the sun shines into them, blinding you for a moment.
Ocean Shore (lying down)
You are lying on the seashore near the edge of the surf, your senses drinking in the sound and touch of the world around you as if alive for the first time. The soft murmur of the ocean, and the feel of the waves lapping over you, combine to wash away the fragments of a nightmare that now seems distant and unreal. Areilya lies low near the western horizon, a tiny circle of light amidst the rose aura of sunrise. A filament of silver divides the waters where her ray strikes the surface.
You don’t know who you are, where you are, how you got here–but for the moment, none of these things seem important.
[/code]
Remembrance…
So we need to remember who we are, apparently?
Rob