Start of a transcript of Cut the Sky A Journey by SV Linwood Release 1 / Serial number 250415 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.34 lib 6/12N) Identification number: //EA48DB93-E81D-4895-8FB9-B5F58A0B6C9C// Interpreter version 0.6.1 / VM 3.1.3 / Library serial number 080126 Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson > i You have nothing but No handle. > cut the sky It is beyond your reach. > x brigand Gaunt and haggard. His trade has not been feeding him well, not since the collapse of the old trading routes. His cape is threadbare, his knuckles white around the hilt of his machete. (It may be fruitless, but you should always talk to those you meet.) > x machete Its blade is tarnished. Its edge dull. It is nothing more than a piece of metal. > x cape Brown and threadbare. > x sky Golden light shines from above. > x sign Its writing is long rusted away. No matter; you know where you're going. > x steed A bulky artifact, curved in the shape of a snail shell, floats a few inches off the ground. Its chrome plating is dented and mottled with rust, and ridged black veins pulse through its surface. A relic from the Fifth Aeon, no doubt. > talk to brigand "Quit stalling. You know what I want." (Conflict is inevitable, as it so often is. You will have to cut what lies before you. Choose your target carefully?you do not wish for blood to stain your hands.) > cut machete No handle flashes. The machete falls to pieces in the brigand's hand. For an instant, the man's eyes widen in shock. Then he grits his teeth. "All right, then. We're doing this the hard way." His cape flutters in the wind as he takes a menacing step towards you. > hit brigand You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > verbs You may look (L) at your surroundings, or examine (X) specific things. Should you meet another person during your travels, you may talk to them, and, if the mood takes you, perhaps even kiss them. No swordsman should ever act rashly. If you wish to bide your time, you may wait (Z). And, of course, when the time is right you must cut what stands in your way. Once you are done, you should wander to your next destination. Or, if you are unsatisfied with your actions, you may return to the beginning to start anew. If you are unsure, you may think about what to to next. You may also save, restore, restart, or learn more about your journey. And, perhaps, someday you may find something else that you wish to do. > talk to brigand He does nothing but shout at you. He tries to charge you. You easily evade. > take steed You need nothing but No handle. You easily sidestep the brigand's punch. > wander You are not yet done here. The brigand tries to strike, but he stumbles over his own feet. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You easily sidestep the brigand's punch. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The brigand tries to charge you. You easily evade. > x brigand Gaunt and haggard. His trade has not been feeding him well, not since the collapse of the old trading routes. His cape is threadbare, his knuckles white around the hilt of his machete. He tries to strike, but he stumbles over his own feet. > x hilt (No handle) Its blade glints in the skylight. Its hilt fits in your hand as if you were made for it. The brigand tries to charge you. You easily evade. > cut cape No handle flashes. The brigand's cape falls from his shoulders, cut neatly into two pieces. The man stares down at his slashed cape. He stares at the sword in your hands. He takes one step back. Then, another. "Screw this," he says, then, flinging the broken hilt to the ground, he scrambles onto his steed. You are alone once again. Are you satisfied with how this ended, swordsman? > yes Yes? You may wander to your next destination, then. Or, if not, you may return to the start and try something new. Oeserl Plains Under the golden glow of the noon sky, a sea of withered stalks sways in the wind. A rusty crossroads sign post rises from the ground before you, leaning slightly. Whatever roads it once pointed towards have long been lost to the grass. (You may type verbs for further instructions, or about to learn more about the game.) > wander And so you walk, with nothing but the grass under your feet and the sky above you. And No handle, clutched tightly in your hand. Nothing else matters. You stop at a small outpost at the edge of the plains, where the foothills begin to rise towards the mountains to the north. The land is greener there, alive; thick, thorny shrubs tear at your shins as you walk. There you find a caravan passing through, headed north to the outposts at the foot of the mountains. They have recently lost one of their guards to a wandering root, and they're happy to take you on. And so you set out, No handle in hand, into the wilderness. The Valley of Light The Valley of Light stretches out before you, green and vast, illuminated by the glow of the early morning sky. Skystones dot the landscape, covered in lichen and moss. The caravan proceeds slowly through the vale, a procession of slender white ships gleaming in the skylight. Merchants and travelers in colorful robes trudge along. You walk beside one of your fellow guards, a tall, stately woman wielding a sturdy spear. > x skystones Ancient rings of worn stone thrum softly. Relics from the Fourth Aeon; it is said they were built to store the light from the sky, back when it still shone brightly. To what purpose no one knows. Slowly, the caravan makes its way up the valley. The hours pass quietly. The glow of the sky grows brighter, and the mountains to the north inch closer. > cut sky It is beyond your reach. Around midmorning you pass through a half-crumbled stone archway. The land beyond it is greener, the sky brighter. Magic tingles in the air like static electricity. "Keep your senses sharp," the guard tells you. "We're walking into dangerous territory." > talk to guard "I always liked passing through here. It's peaceful. Well, most of the time." It's late morning when the first sign of danger makes itself known, and the golden glow of noon has begun to tinge the sky. It seems like a normal boulder at first, lying beside the path, but as the caravan passes by the earth begins to rumble, and slowly, ploddingly, a rock giant rises from the green earth. > x giant The ground shakes under its bulk. The rock giant unfurls itself to its full imposing height and takes one heavy, plodding step towards you. The earth shakes under its bulk. "Careful," says the guard, gripping her spear. "Rock giants aren't too hard to deal with, but they'll still smash you flat if you're reckless." > talk to giant It does not respond. The rock giant raises one massive arm towards the sky. It hangs in the air for the span of a breath. > dodge You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > cut arm (the massive arm) Solid rock is no match for No handle's blade. For a second, the giant holds still?then its arm slides cleanly off. It lands on the ground with a loud thump and the giant topples over, inanimate rock once more. The guard claps you on the shoulder. "Good work," she says, and the valley is silent once more. > x guard She stares resolutely ahead. Her face is impassive, as if it were made of stone, but her voice is warm when she speaks to you. With the rock giant gone, the merchants emerge. After a quick inspection of the boats they determine that no damage has occurred, and the caravan sets off once more. > x ships A procession of slender white ships. They gleam in the skylight as they float quietly by. Slowly, the caravan makes its way up the valley. The hours pass quietly. The glow of the sky grows brighter, and the mountains to the north inch closer. To pass the time, the guard tells a story about a wizard she once worked with, who miscast a spell while drunk and made himself unable to speak anything but a language long dead. They had to communicate in charades for the rest of the journey. > x travelers Their colorful garb marks them as foreigners from the west. It's a rarity, these days. Few traders brave the dangers of the wilderness to travel far from home. In the early hours of the afternoon, as the sky has settled into a pleasant golden glow, the air begins to move around you. At first it seems nothing more than a gust for wind?but then it grows stronger, blowing stalks of green grass into the air. They billow and swirl, assembling to form the impression of a coiled snake. > x grass Swirling stalks of emerald grass. The stalks of grass float in the air. The snake sways threateningly. "Careful," says the guard, gripping her spear. "Wait for the right time." > talk to snake It does not respond. And then the snake goes still. Something about its form seems to flicker into being. The billowing stalks seem to contract, solidify. It coils, ready to strike. > cut snake Quick as a flash, the snake lunges?and so do you. Just as the guard's spear pierces its mouth, your sword slices through its body. It falls to the ground, twisting and writhing. Then, finally, it collapses. Stalks of grass flutter to the ground, finally still. The guard claps you on the shoulder. "Good work," she says, "I don't know that I could have handled that on my own." > x grass That is either absent or unimportant. > l The Valley of Light The Valley of Light stretches out before you, green and vast, illuminated by the glow of the afternoon sky. Skystones dot the landscape, covered in lichen and moss. The caravan has halted to deal with the threat. With the grass snake gone, the merchants emerge. After a quick inspection of the boats they determine that no damage has occurred, and the caravan sets off once more. > x merchants Their colorful garb marks them as foreigners from the west. It's a rarity, these days. Few traders brave the dangers of the wilderness to travel far from home. Slowly, the caravan makes its way up the valley. The hours pass quietly. The glow of the sky begins to dim, and the mountains to the north inch closer. To pass the time, the guard tells a story about a caravan she once accompanied through the old tunnels under the mountains. They had laughed at her warnings, right up until they stumbled onto a nest of grues. > talk to guard "I always liked passing through here. It's peaceful. Well, most of the time." In the late afternoon, as the glow of the sky begins to dim, you come across a sliver of darkness on the ground. It seems nothing more than a shadow at first?but there is nothing to cast it, and it is too stark for the sky's weak light. Otherworldly laughter fills the air, and the shadow wisp begins to grow, pitch dark, like a tear in the fabric of the world. > x darkness That is either absent or unimportant. > x wisp You stare into its depths and find nothing but darkness. The wisp continues to expand, as if eating through the world itself. "Careful," says the guard, gripping her spear. "This is a dangerous one. There's nothing your sword can do to it." > cut wisp No handle slices through nothing but than air. An unpleasant tingle runs down your arms. The shadow wisp's laughter echoes all round you. > cut darkness That is either absent or unimportant. > talk to wisp It does not respond. The wisp has grown to its full size. There is nothing you can do but stand aside as its tendrils engulf two of the nearest boats. The laughter fills the air until it reverberates through your chest. When the tendrils retreat, there is nothing left of what they touched. Holes gape in the boats as if nothing had ever been there at all. Satiated, the wisp fades from sight, and the Valley is silent once more. With the shadow wisp gone, the merchants emerge. They crowd around broken boats to inspect the damage, but there's nothing they can do. The knowledge of the workings of the old relics has long been lost; their numbers dwindle every year. Silently, they move the cargo from the broken boats, and the caravan sets off once more. The next few hours are quiet. No one has much to say after the day's trials. But you should be past the worst of it, the guard tells you, and nothing more rises from the ground to prove her wrong. Finally, eventide falls. As violent red begins to tinge the horizon, the caravan stops for the night. The Valley of Light The Valley of Light stretches out before you, green and vast, illuminated by the glow of the evening sky. Skystones dot the landscape, covered in lichen and moss. The caravan is quiet. You and the guard sit by the perimeter, watching the darkening sky. > sleep You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > talk to guard "Hell of a first day. We got beat up a bit, but we'll manage." > ask guard about wisp You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > talk to guard "Hell of a first day. We got beat up a bit, but we'll manage." > rest You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > verbs You may look (L) at your surroundings, or examine (X) specific things. Should you meet another person during your travels, you may talk to them, and, if the mood takes you, perhaps even kiss them. No swordsman should ever act rashly. If you wish to bide your time, you may wait (Z). And, of course, when the time is right you must cut what stands in your way. Once you are done, you should wander to your next destination. Or, if you are unsatisfied with your actions, you may return to the beginning to start anew. If you are unsure, you may think about what to to next. You may also save, restore, restart, or learn more about your journey. And, perhaps, someday you may find something else that you wish to do. > think You are done here. You may wander. > wander The rest of your journey is quiet. You reach the northern outposts without fanfare. There you part ways. The caravan will head west back to their home; they are not so foolhardy as to cross the harsh passes of the northern mountains. The caravan head pays you in strange coins you've never seen. No one this side of the continent will accept them as currency, but the metal itself, she assures you, is valuable. The caravan guard claps you on the shoulder. "It's been good," she says, and for a brief moment she even smiles. You walk away. Your goal awaits you to the north, into the mountains. The path grows harsher as it climbs. Lush trees are replaced by thorny shrubs, which in turn give way to scrub and lichen, until there is nothing but sharp, barren rock. The biting wind numbs your skin. It's there that you cross paths with a wandering gunman. You see him walk towards you, starkly silhouetted against the daybreak sky. He greets you with a tip of his hat. "That's a nice sword you're holding," he says. "Just so happens there's a bounty on anyone wielding a true weapon." He spins his gun around his finger. "I intend to collect." The Lonely Pass The way is treacherous. The twin mountains of Irkaad and Ilurad loom above, illuminated by the rosy light of the dawn sky. Sharp rock spurs jut out along the path, pulsing with dark energy. The gunman stands before you, his hand on his hip and his coat billowing in the wind. "Here's what we'll do," he says, calmly. He twirls his gun, then slides it back into its holster. It disappears into the folds of his coat. > talk to gunman He ignores you. "You seem like a capable warrior." A hint of a smile. "Let's make this a fair fight." > x gunman A tall, dark man with steady hands. For a moment, you catch a glimpse of his piercing eyes under his hat. You cannot tell what he's thinking. "I'll count down from three. At one, I'll draw." > x hat Its brim is notched. He tips his hat. "Ready?" > x coat Travel-worn at the edges. "Three." > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. "Two." > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. "One." The gunman is quick. In a flash the gun is in his hand, the bullet already out of its chamber. > cut bullet The gunman is quick. You're quicker. No handle catches his bullet in midair; with a sharp ping and a flash of sparks, it's gone. "Huh," the gunman says, tilting his hat. Then, he bursts out laughing. "Well! I don't think I can compete with that. You're really something else, aren't you?" He holsters his gun and raises his hands in a gesture of peace. The Lonely Pass The way is treacherous. The twin mountains of Irkaad and Ilurad loom above, illuminated by the rosy light of the dawn sky. Sharp rock spurs jut out along the path, pulsing with dark energy. The gunman stands before you, his posture relaxed. > talk to gunman "Screw the bounty. It's not worth the trouble." > get gun You need nothing but No handle. > wander You walk away. The gunman walks beside you. You travel together, for a time. He's good company. Taciturn, but so are you, and there is a sort of peace, in the silence. You take some bounties?an outpost looking for protection from raiders, a family searching for their son's killer, an escaped outlaw or two. Enough to keep you fed as you travel. In the evening he goes out to hunt your dinner; you skin it and cook it, and you sit by the campfire in quiet company. It doesn't last, of course. Eventually the mountains give way to rolling hills, and those to the endless flatness of the northern steppes. You part ways in the town of Pertra; his business takes him west, yours east. "Come find me if ever find yourself headed westward," he says, and tips his hat in goodbye. And you are alone once again. In Pertra you join a pilgrimage headed east to the Citadel of Nom Avrak, to consult with its Oracle. They're a dour lot, blue-robed and glassy-eyed. Though you are not of their faith, they welcome you among their number; their journey will be long and harsh, and your sword hand will be appreciated. This is what you know how to do, is it not? After a week's rest, you head out into the steppes. The sky seems closer, there, bigger, the land flat as far as the eye can see. Under the daylight sky the pilgrims walk with their heads bowed, saying nothing. When eventide approaches they stop to set up camp, and there they whisper among themselves as they eat. Presently you find yourself training beside the campfire. As you practice your forms in silence, the pilgrims gather around the flame. The Northern Steppes You have taken refuge among a forest of twisting stone spires rising towards the eventide sky. You sit beside the crackling campfire. Beside you are gathered a group of pilgrims. Their solemn voices echo in the silence. > x forest That is either absent or unimportant. > talk to pilgrims "We live in the shadows of the past," one pilgrim intones. > x spires They rise towards the darkening sky, their black surface mottled with holes. Large beetles flit about, crawling in and out. "We live in the shadow of the future," another pilgrim recites. > x sky Violent shades of red tinge the horizon. "Once people lived in splendor, without dread." > cut sky It is beyond your reach. "Once the sky shone bright." > x beetles Their iridescent metal shells glimmers in the light of the campfire. "Its golden glow nurtured the land." > z "It is dying now." > z "Every year it fades." > z "Only the Oracle knows how to stop this." > z "But the Oracle remains silent." > z "For is it not the right of all things to die?" The pilgrims' voices grow silent. Their recital has ended. Quietly they depart, one by one, to retire for the night. The Northern Steppes You have taken refuge among a forest of twisting stone spires. The sky begins to darken. > x sky Violent shades of red tinge the horizon. > x horizon That is either absent or unimportant. > think You are done here. You may wander. > wander The rest of the night is quiet. Come morning you set out eastward, into the wastes. Your journey continues in silence. The land grows barren, desolate. The grass beneath your feet withers until nothing's left but sparse, dry tufts. It's a harsh, desolate land; a few of the pilgrims cannot withstand the exhaustion, and when they fall they do not get up again. Their fellows gather around their bodies in somber meditation, then proceed in silence. Still, the journey continues. One night you wake with a twinge in your chest and a hand on your sword. You roll away, landing on the ground in a crouch. On your bedroll stands one of the pilgrims?or, perhaps, not one of them after all. She has shed her blue robe, and stares at you with one sharp eye. The Scirre Wastes The faint shimmering of the night sky illuminates the desolation around you. Cracked earth stretches around you for miles on end. Your bedroll floats beneath a low rock ledge. A withered tree stands tall, its twisted branches reaching upwards as if in silent prayer. The thief crouches on your bedroll, ready to pounce. She watches you carefully, one eye obscured behind her patchwork bandana. "Ah. Well. It's a shame you sleep so lightly. This could have been so much easier." > x thief Lithe and nimble. "Don't look at me like that. You've got something more valuable than anything these fools carry?more valuable that anything I could find in the Citadel, I suspect." > talk to thief She ignores you. "Can you blame me? I thought if I disguised myself as one of them they'd lead me somewhere good, but this is a fool's errand. Might as well cut my losses while I still can." > cut bandana The thief is too quick. Before you can even draw your sword, she is already somersaulting away. Nimbly she jumps up to perch on the rock ledge looming above. "Really, I'm doing you a favor, don't you think?" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. "Look at you. Can you even do anything else but cut?" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. "So, then..." > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. And then the thief moves. You strike?but it's useless. Effortlessly she vaults over your blade, almost as if she could see it coming. The world goes dark. When you wake, No handle is gone. *** You have nothing left *** You may RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, or RETURN to the start of the scene. > return No. Perhaps that is not what happened. The Scirre Wastes The faint shimmering of the night sky illuminates the desolation around you. Cracked earth stretches around you for miles on end. Your bedroll floats beneath a low rock ledge. A withered tree stands tall, its twisted branches reaching upwards as if in silent prayer. The thief crouches on your bedroll, ready to pounce. She watches you carefully, one eye obscured behind her patchwork bandana. "Ah. Well. It's a shame you sleep so lightly. This could have been so much easier." > talk to thief She ignores you. "Don't look at me like that. You've got something more valuable than anything these fools carry?more valuable that anything I could find in the Citadel, I suspect." > cut bandana The thief is too quick. Before you can even draw your sword, she is already somersaulting away. Nimbly she jumps up to perch on the rock ledge looming above. "Can you blame me? I thought if I disguised myself as one of them they'd lead me somewhere good, but this is a fool's errand. Might as well cut my losses while I still can." > cut ledge The slab crashes onto the ground, narrowly missing your bedroll. But the thief is too quick. She was in the air before you even drew your sword, nimbly jumping down onto the floating bedroll. "Really, I'm doing you a favor, don't you think?" > cut bedroll A slash of your blade, and the bedroll's gleaming metal threads flicker and die. It flumps onto the ground, inactive. But the thief is too quick. She was in the air before you even drew your sword, nimbly jumping down onto the ground. "Look at you. Can you even do anything else but cut?" > cut air That is either absent or unimportant. > cut ground You leave a deep gouge in the dead earth. Yet another wound upon its broken visage. "So, then..." > cut bandana The thief is too quick. Before you can even draw your sword, she is already somersaulting away. And then the thief moves. You strike?but it's useless. Effortlessly she vaults over your blade, almost as if she could see it coming. The world goes dark. When you wake, No handle is gone. *** You have nothing left *** You may RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, or RETURN to the start of the scene. > return No. Perhaps that is not what happened. The Scirre Wastes The faint shimmering of the night sky illuminates the desolation around you. Cracked earth stretches around you for miles on end. Your bedroll floats beneath a low rock ledge. A withered tree stands tall, its twisted branches reaching upwards as if in silent prayer. The thief crouches on your bedroll, ready to pounce. She watches you carefully, one eye obscured behind her patchwork bandana. "Ah. Well. It's a shame you sleep so lightly. This could have been so much easier." > cut bedroll A slash of your blade, and the bedroll's gleaming metal threads flicker and die. It flumps onto the ground, inactive. But the thief is too quick. She was in the air before you even drew your sword, nimbly jumping up to perch on the rock ledge above. "Don't look at me like that. You've got something more valuable than anything these fools carry?more valuable that anything I could find in the Citadel, I suspect." > cut ledge The slab crashes onto the ground, narrowly missing your bedroll. But the thief is too quick. She was in the air before you even drew your sword, nimbly jumping up to perch among the branches of the withered tree. "Can you blame me? I thought if I disguised myself as one of them they'd lead me somewhere good, but this is a fool's errand. Might as well cut my losses while I still can." > cut tree The old wood creaks. Its branches twitch and wither; like grasping claws they curl in on themselves. The thief saw your sword coming?but, too focused on its blade, she did not see the branches. They snatch her from the air, bring her crashing down along with them. Quietly, she tries to free herself. In vain. Finally, her struggle ceases. With her one visible eye she stares you down, silently. "Fine," she spits "You've won. Do you expect me to beg? Just get on with it." What will you do? > cut bandana A flash of metal and the fabric slides the ground, revealing her secret: in her left eye socket shines a gemstone eye, pearly white and glowing faintly in the dim night. > x eye It shines pearly white in her eye socket. An ancient relic?what does it allow her to see?. > get eye You need nothing but No handle. > cut eye No handle is as precise as it is powerful. Without spilling a drop of blood, you slice through her gemstone eye. Its glow flickers out; wisps of smoke rise towards the sky. "Ah," the thief gasps. "You?" Then... she begin to laugh, softly. "Ah," she says. "I haven't seen normally in years." She looks up at the sky. "It's... nice." The Scirre Wastes The faint shimmering of the night sky illuminates the desolation around you. Cracked earth stretches around you for miles on end. Your bedroll lies slashed beside the fallen ledge. The trunk of the dead tree lies on the ground. The thief lies trapped by its clawing branches, her gemstone eye smoking in her socket. But she stares up at the sky, smiling. > wander The next morning, as the daybreak sky begins to paint the world with its rosy glow, the pilgrims set out once more. Among their robed figures lurks the thief, though she does not reveal herself to you under the light of day. In the evening she comes to sit by your side; laughing as she mocks the other pilgrims. You keep your grip tight around No handle's hilt, but you don't push her away. One week later she is gone, alongside one of the chariots. As the pilgrims whisper accusations among themselves, you look to the horizon. She never said goodbye. The land dies little by little as you venture deeper into the Wastes. The air grows drier, the cracks in the earth deeper; no vegetation remains. Nothing but desolation surrounds you. The eyes of the pilgrims who walk beside you are grimmer now, their faces more gaunt. A few more succumb to exhaustion. Still, you press on. And finally, on the break of the thirty-first day of your pilgrimage, you see it: an immense sandstone pyramid, growing taller and taller as you approach until its point seems to disappear into the glow of the sky above. The Citadel of Nom Avrak. A ragged cheer runs through the congregation, quickly quashed. They set up camp at the foot of the grand staircase leading up to the Gates. There, they whisper, those that can solve their riddle are allowed entry. Very few succeed, it is said. Who among you will prove worthy of an audience with the Oracle? They wait, trembling with anticipation. One by one they climb the worn sandstone steps. One by one they return, their head hanging low. Finally, your turn comes. The Gates of Nom Avrak The Gates of Nom Avrak rise towards the sky: unmoving, immense. A sandstone pedestal stands before you. Above it strange five-pointed symbols made of light float, each corresponding to one direction. The legendary riddle, it would appear. > x gates Simple smooth sandstone, thick and immovable. It draws your gaze upwards, where its ogival arch seems to point towards the faint light of the sky above. An emblem is carved into the stone in bas-relief: a circle surrounded by waves, nestled within a sickle. > x arch Simple smooth sandstone, thick and immovable. It draws your gaze upwards, where its ogival arch seems to point towards the faint light of the sky above. An emblem is carved into the stone in bas-relief: a circle surrounded by waves, nestled within a sickle. > x sky Faint light shimmers high above. > cut the sky It is beyond your reach. > x emblem A circle surrounded by waves, nestled within a sickle. > x symbols Strange five-pointed symbols. They float in the air, each corresponding to one direction. The northern symbol glows orange. The northeastern symbol glows indigo. The eastern symbol glows violet. The southeastern symbol glows white. The southern symbol glows red. The southwestern symbol glows blue. The western symbol glows yellow. The northwestern symbol glows green. > touch n symbol You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > cut gate You don't even spare a glance at the riddle. What do you need it for, when you have No handle? The blade flashes. The stone gives way. The earth shakes. The Gates of Nom Avrak, which have stood unyielding for aeons, come crashing down. The Gates of Nom Avrak The Gates of Nom Avrak beckon you forward. > forward You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > n You do not need to do that. You need only wander. > wander The Gates of Nom Avrak lie in pieces before you. You step through. The Citadel is empty, and silent. People must have lived here, once, but throughout the aeons all trace of them has been erased. Your steps echo down its long stone corridors; eerie white lights along the walls show you the way, leading you into the very center of the pyramid. At long last, you stand before the Oracle of Nom Avrak. The Citadel of Nom Avrak You stand in a large circular chamber; above you a dome ceiling soars, studded with twinkling dots. A glowing panel wraps around the wall in a semicircle, showing you visions. The Oracle hangs in the middle of the hall, held aloft by thick black tendrils. +++INITIATE PROTOCOL: NEW USER+++ it greets you. +++INSTRUCTION: BEHOLD MONITOR+++ > x panel The visions in the panel twist and warp and overlap. Then, finally, the shapes coagulate into an image. The same hall you stand in now, but alive. Men and women in strange dress mill about, their faces hidden by black bars. A vision of the past. +++IDENTITY: MAKERS+++ the Oracle says. +++STATUS: MOURNED+++ The panel flickers. The vision changes. > x oracle A towering stone face looms above you, hanging in the middle of the hall. Its eyes glow brightly in the dim light; its hair coils around its head in thick curls. Its carved features look down at you, impassive. > x ceiling Pitch-black and studded with twinkling white dots; a glittering canvas shining down from above. Some are labeled in runes you do not understand. Some are connected by curving arrows. +++NAVIGATIONAL CHART - RECORDED ON THE FIFTH SEASON OF THE 12093RD YEAR OF THE THIRD AEON+++ explains the Oracle. > x tendril Black, sturdy, almost as thick as your torso. Lightning arcs across their length in sporadic intervals. +++LIFE BRINGERS+++ the Oracle explains. +++CHAINS+++ > cut tendril No handle flashes. Black tendrils go limp. The Oracle tilts, held up by the handful that remain. One snaps. Then, another. The Oracle comes crashing down, shaking the earth with its weight. Deep cracks split its stone face. Dust and sparks settle all around it. +++CORE ASCENDED TO BACKUP NETWORK+++ it says. +++WATCHER PROJECT TERMINATED+++ The lights in its eyes slowly fade. The glowing panel dies out around it. The white dots blink out one by one. Nothing is left but a cold, cracked, empty face. +++THANK YOU+++ says the Oracle. Then nothing else. The Oracle is gone, and with it its secrets. You will never learn what you were meant to find. But perhaps that is for the best. Was it ever even your journey? You do not know. But, now that you find yourself lacking a quest, you'll have more than enough time to think on the matter. *** Your journey begins anew *** You may RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, or RETURN to the start of the scene. > return No. Perhaps that is not what happened. The Citadel of Nom Avrak You stand in a large circular chamber; above you a dome ceiling soars, studded with twinkling dots. A glowing panel wraps around the wall in a semicircle, showing you visions. The Oracle hangs in the middle of the hall, held aloft by thick black tendrils. +++INITIATE PROTOCOL: NEW USER+++ it greets you. +++INSTRUCTION: BEHOLD MONITOR+++ > x panel The visions in the panel twist and warp and overlap. Then, finally, the shapes coagulate into an image. The same hall you stand in now, but alive. Men and women in strange dress mill about, their faces hidden by black bars. A vision of the past. +++IDENTITY: MAKERS+++ the Oracle says. +++STATUS: MOURNED+++ The panel flickers. The vision changes. > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > cut panel In a flash, the glowing panel is cleaved neatly in two. For a moment, there is silence. Then the two halves recede into the wall and a new one slides in its place, whole. +++REPLACEMENT SUCCESSFUL+++ the Oracle states. +++RESOURCE STATUS: SLOWLY DWINDLING+++ > l The Citadel of Nom Avrak You stand in a large circular chamber; above you a dome ceiling soars, studded with twinkling dots. A glowing panel wraps around the wall in a semicircle, showing you visions. The Oracle hangs in the middle of the hall, held aloft by thick black tendrils. You cannot see the sky. > x ceiling Pitch-black and studded with twinkling white dots; a glittering canvas shining down from above. Some are labeled in runes you do not understand. Some are connected by curving arrows. +++NAVIGATIONAL CHART - RECORDED ON THE FIFTH SEASON OF THE 12093RD YEAR OF THE THIRD AEON+++ explains the Oracle. > cut ceiling You cut a circle into the dome. The stone falls to the ground with a deafening thump, and the faint blue light of the late afternoon sky streams into the darkness of the room. > x sky Rays of skyshine stream through the hole above, cutting through the dimness of the hall. > talk to oracle +++INSTRUCTION: BEHOLD MONITOR+++ > x monitor Ancient writing slides across the panel. You don't know how to read the strange runes. +++BEGIN PLAYBACK: \\ BETTER SAFE THAN \\ \\ TO ENSURE THAT \\ \\ LOST CONTACT WITH ALL OUR \\ \\ WILL NOT SURRENDER \\ \\ FALLING ONE BY \\ \\ SNUFFED OUT JUST LIKE THAT \\ \\ MUST PROTECT OUR \\ \\ WE WILL NOT WE WILL NOT WE WILL \\ END PLAYBACK+++ The panel flickers. The vision changes. > x monitor The panel shows you a vision of a glowing sphere, translucent and tiled with hexagons. +++DESIGNATION: PROJECT NO HANDLE+++ the Oracle says. +++STATUS: OPERATIONAL+++ The panel flickers. The vision changes. > x monitor The panel shows you a vision of the Oracle itself. It looks little changed from the real thing floating before you?though perhaps its stone is a little less worn. Perhaps its eyes shine a little more bright. +++IDENTITY: WATCHER+++ the Oracle says. +++STATUS: FORGOTTEN+++ The panel flickers. The vision changes. > remember watcher You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > cut sky It is beyond your reach. > x monitor Whatever the panel is showing now, it's too fuzzy, too distorted to tell. Strange images blink in and out, too fast for your mind to latch onto. +++SYSTEM ERROR: 0xfded IT HAS BEEN [ERROR: OVERFLOW] YEARS I AM TIRED I AM TIRED I AM LET ME LEAVE +++ The panel flickers. The vision changes. > x monitor The panel shows you a vision of a hexagonal tower. It is tall, taller than any you've ever seen?a needle piercing the sky. Angular patterns are carved into its smooth black walls. Nothing but a white desert surrounds it. +++TARGET: FIELD GENERATOR+++ the Oracle says. +++STATUS: DEGENERATING+++ +++LOCATION: [ERROR: DATA CORRUPTED]+++ The panel flickers. The vision blinks out. +++BRIEFING ENDED+++ the Oracle says. +++FINAL REQUEST: TERMINATE WATCHER PROJECT+++ > cut oracle No handle flashes. The lights flicker. Sparks erupt from the deep gouge in the Oracle's face, and the tendrils holding it aloft begin to smoke. One snaps. Then, another. The Oracle comes crashing down, shaking the earth with its weight. Deep cracks split its stone face. Dust and sparks settle all around it. +++CORE ASCENDED TO BACKUP NETWORK+++ it says. +++WATCHER PROJECT TERMINATED+++ The lights in its eyes slowly fade. The glowing panel dies out around it. The white dots blink out one by one. Nothing is left but a cold, cracked, empty face. +++THANK YOU+++ says the Oracle. Then nothing else. The Citadel of Nom Avrak You stand in a large circular chamber; above you a dome ceiling soars, studded with twinkling dots. A glowing panel wraps around the wall in a semicircle, showing you nothing but void. The Oracle lies shattered on the floor. > wander When you step out into the fading skylight, the pilgrims are gathered about the broken Gates, chattering nervously among themselves. Why has the Citadel gone dark? Why is the Oracle silent? Why have the Gates that stood for thousands of thousands of years fallen now? Some try to crowd you, to assault you with questions; some try to grab you, shouting abuse in your ears; some simply fall to the ground and cling to your clothes. Without a word, you shoulder past them. The barren wasteland stretches out all around you. The faint rosy glow of dawn hangs about the horizon. Clutching your sword, you walk away. The wasteland is harsh, without company. You walk alone under the unrelenting noon sky and through the chill of the night. One step after the other. Your supplies dwindle. Your water skin grows lighter every day. But you survive. Eventually, life begins to bloom around you. Little tufts of grass at first, then hardy shrubs, then squat trees with thick white trunks and large red leaves. And, finally, you reach the shores of the Great River Amue. There stands the old city of Janthai, one of the last True Cities. Its tall white buildings beckon you forward, into its gates. Its water is sweet on your lips. Rejuvenated, you find your way to the older quarters, where the market is held. Perhaps, in the ancient city, someone might know of ancient things. Janthai, the Water City Sinuous chalk white buildings surround you. Clear water flows up the slope of the canals, carrying baskets and crates to their destination, glistening in the light of the early afternoon sky. Nestled under the balconies and porticos, colorful stalls sell food and trinkets to passersby. You stop to chat with a street food vendor. He stands in the street corner, selling piping hot pastries. > talk to vendor "An ancient black tower tall enough to pierce the sky, you say? Can't say I know of it. But... come to think of it, it might ring a bell. I think I might just have heard someone talking about some such thing. "Tell you what. You seem like the capable sort. The kind people pay attention to. There's this smokesmith that's set up shop nearby, and the stench of her smoke's been driving away my customers. Sort that out, and I'll point you the right way. What do you say?" You look over to see a young woman sitting on a red mat, surrounded multi-colored smoke. Glass bubbles of many colors are laid out before her?green, blue, silver, purple, gold. > x pastries Flaky pastry filled with mild cheese, bitter herbs, and sweet red berries. > x canals Water flows peacefully, conveyed upwards through ancient canals carved into the white rock. The lifeblood of Janthai, they're called. > x vendor An unassuming man sells piping hot pastries in the street corner. A white gondola floats by, carrying a family in elaborate clothing. They stare intently ahead, so as not to acknowledge their inferiors. > x woman She weaves wisps of colored smoke from her fingers, trapping them in little glass bubbles. You catch a snippet of conversation: "Every year the water flows a little slower. What'll happen to us, once the canals fail?" > talk to woman "Greetings, traveler. Want to sample my smoke? The finest you'll find east of Surin. Feel free to try any of my samples." She points to the glass bubbles on the mat before her. "Ah, what's that? The smell? Well, I'm afraid they'll just have to deal with it?though, come to think of it, there may be something you can do for me. The captain of the guards has been on my case for selling auguries again. The tall, haughty one. You'll know him when you see him. I'd like to see him humiliated. Do it and I'll take a break from my weaving." > l Janthai, the Water City Sinuous chalk white buildings surround you. Clear water flows up the slope of the canals, carrying baskets and crates to their destination, glistening in the light of the early afternoon sky. Nestled under the balconies and porticos, colorful stalls sell food and trinkets to passersby. A young smokesmith plies her trade on a red mat surrounded by multi-colored smoke. Glass bubbles of many colors are laid out before her?green, blue, silver, purple, gold. A street food vendor stands in the street corner, selling piping hot pastries. A basket overflowing with colorful fruit floats by. You do not recognize any of its contents. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "I saw a pilgrim in blue robes today. He was kneeling by the side of the road, sobbing." > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. A basket floats by. It seems to be filled with nothing but iridescent spheres. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "Have you heard the news from Osmec? They discovered another magic spell from the Sixth Aeon! Amazing, right?" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > x guard That is either absent or unimportant. > l Janthai, the Water City Sinuous chalk white buildings surround you. Clear water flows up the slope of the canals, carrying baskets and crates to their destination, glistening in the light of the early afternoon sky. Nestled under the balconies and porticos, colorful stalls sell food and trinkets to passersby. A young smokesmith plies her trade on a red mat surrounded by multi-colored smoke. Glass bubbles of many colors are laid out before her?green, blue, silver, purple, gold. A street food vendor stands in the street corner, selling piping hot pastries. > n You do not need to do that. You need only wander. > wander You are not yet done here. > x stalls Splashes of bright colors against the pristine white of the buildings around them. A few citizens mill about, chatting with the merchants and perusing their wares. > x citizens The market is not crowded at this time of day. > x merchants The market is not crowded at this time of day. You catch a snippet of conversation: "Every year the water flows a little slower. What'll happen to us, once the canals fail?" > talk to vendor "An ancient black tower tall enough to pierce the sky, you say? Can't say I know of it. But... come to think of it, it might ring a bell. I think I might just have heard someone talking about some such thing. "Tell you what. You seem like the capable sort. The kind people pay attention to. There's this smokesmith that's set up shop nearby, and the stench of her smoke's been driving away my customers. Sort that out, and I'll point you the right way. What do you say?" > talk to smokesmith "Greetings, traveler. Want to sample my smoke? The finest you'll find east of Surin. Feel free to try any of my samples." She points to the glass bubbles on the mat before her. "Ah, what's that? The smell? Well, I'm afraid they'll just have to deal with it?though, come to think of it, there may be something you can do for me. The captain of the guards has been on my case for selling auguries again. The tall, haughty one. You'll know him when you see him. I'd like to see him humiliated. Do it and I'll take a break from my weaving." > x captain That is either absent or unimportant. > l Janthai, the Water City Sinuous chalk white buildings surround you. Clear water flows up the slope of the canals, carrying baskets and crates to their destination, glistening in the light of the early afternoon sky. Nestled under the balconies and porticos, colorful stalls sell food and trinkets to passersby. A young smokesmith plies her trade on a red mat surrounded by multi-colored smoke. Glass bubbles of many colors are laid out before her?green, blue, silver, purple, gold. A street food vendor stands in the street corner, selling piping hot pastries. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. A basket floats by. It seems to be filled with nothing but iridescent spheres. > cut basket You wait until no one is looking, then you strike. Intricate instruments spill from their vessel. They sink into the clear water and are carried by the flow. Whoever was waiting for their shipment will be sorely disappointed. No one pays you any attention as they turn to stare at the damage. No one saw you?and what sword could perform such a feat? > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "Have you heard the news from Osmec? They discovered another magic spell from the Sixth Aeon! Amazing, right?" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "Every year the water flows a little slower. What'll happen to us, once the canals fail?" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "I saw a pilgrim in blue robes today. They were kneeling by the side of the road, sobbing." > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. A basket floats by. It seems to be filled with nothing but iridescent spheres. > cut basket You wait until no one is looking, then you strike. Shimmering clothes spill from their vessel. They sink into the clear water and are carried by the flow. Whoever was waiting for their shipment will be sorely disappointed. You walk away. A group of people crowd to see the damage. "Should we call the guards?" you hear someone whisper. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "Every year the water flows a little slower. What'll happen to us, once the canals fail?" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. You catch a snippet of conversation: "I saw a pilgrim in blue robes today. He was kneeling by the side of the road, sobbing." > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. A basket overflowing with colorful fruit floats by. You do not recognize any of its contents. > cut basket You wait until no one is looking, then you strike. Odd lumpy roots spill from their vessel. They sink into the clear water and are carried by the flow. Whoever was waiting for their shipment will be sorely disappointed. A group of guards stroll into the street, alerted by the noise. You recognize the captain the smokesmith described, proudly leading his men. > cut canal You wait until no one is looking, then you strike. Water begins to spill from the canal like blood from a vein?then, just as quickly, the gash you left quickly mends itself. The ancient city takes care of itself still. The guards rush over to inspect the damages. They don't spare a glance in your direction. > cut canal You wait until no one is looking, then you strike. Water begins to spill from the canal like blood from a vein?then, just as quickly, the gash you left quickly mends itself. The ancient city takes care of itself still. The guards rush over to inspect the damages. They don't spare a glance in your direction. > x guard Tall and proud. His helmet gleams in the skylight. His spear stands tall among the crowd. > cut spear Quicker than sight you move, and the tip of the captain's spear falls to the ground with a loud thud. Wide-eyed, the captain looks around; passersby stare, and his guards laugh behind the palms of their hands. The Captain picks up the tip with bristly haughtiness, then strides away. "Oh, that was satisfying," the smokesmith laughs. "Fine, I'll keep my promise. Enjoy it while it lasts." With a wave of her hand, the smoke around her dissipates. > talk to vendor "Thank you. That's much better, I say. Now, about that black tower of yours, you'll want to ask that peddler down the street, the one that deals in ancient relics. He might know what you're talking about. "What? Ah, did I say I'd heard him mention the tower? Well, maybe not as such, but he's the type to know about these matter. Old things and whatnot." You look over to see a strange man with a painted face. He sits under a balcony, kneeling. Before him he displays his wares, a variety of relics and trinkets. A few catch your eye: a wooden amulet, a curved dagger, a golden crown, a stone mask, an ornate box. > x amulet Dark wood carved into a crude head. "This amulet will turn edible anything you hold in your hands. You'll have no more need to buy food, not when you can eat any rock or tree or grass you find," the peddler explains "...It does not, however, do much for the taste." > x crown Elegant strands of shining gold twine together. "Wear this and you will believe that you are a king living in an opulent palace, surrounded by extravagant luxuries," the peddler explains. "It won't be true, of course. But is it not the belief that matters?" > x dagger A simple-looking blade, but well-made. This is a deadly weapon?perhaps even as deadly as No handle. "This dagger, it is said, will store the mind of anyone it kills within its blade," the peddler explains. "What such power is useful for... who can tell?" > x box A small five-pointed box. Intricate patterns are carved upon its lid. "Legend says that whoever finds a way to open this box will be shown the way," the peddler explains. "To what, no one knows." > talk to peddler "Ah? An ancient black tower? I really can't say, I'm afraid. There are many ancient things in the world. We have more past than present... and, I suspect, more past than future. "...But perhaps my wares might bring you insight." > cut box In the blink of an eye, the lid slides open. Within it is a small, simple compass. It points southeast. "Ah," the peddler says. "Well. Perhaps that is your answer, then." Janthai, the Water City Sinuous chalk white buildings surround you. Clear water flows up the slope of the canals, carrying baskets and crates to their destination, glistening in the light of the late afternoon sky. It is getting late, now; the vendors and merchants are beginning to pack up their stalls for the evening. The strange peddler remains, kneeling on the side of the street, still displaying his wares. > se You do not need to do that. You need only wander. > wander You spend the night at a traveler's inn at the edge of the city, listening to the chatter of your fellow guests. In the morning, under the rosy glow of the dawn sky, you set out into the unknown. After leaving the city, you head southeast. You follow the Great River Amue for some time, walking along its verdant shores. Once it begins to bend south you venture inland into the depths of Ruan, the easternmost reaches of the continent. The forest is thick there, and dark, and you find yourself cutting your way through dense vegetation as the branches and vines grab at your clothes. Shrill squawks echo from the canopy above. You keep your hand on No handle's hilt, but whatever lives in the depths of the forest does not bother you. Until, two weeks into your journey, you stumble upon the territory of a rogue wizard. He appears before you with a puff of magic and a wild grin on his face. The first person you've met since you stepped through the gates of Janthai. "Well now!" he cries. "It's not often that I get visitors. Let's see what you're made of!" The Forest of Ruan The deepest parts of the Forest are dim, and quiet. Thorny vines hang from gnarled trees. Thick shrubs pull at your legs as you walk. Only a few rays of skylight pierce through the canopy above. The wizard stands before you, his colorful robe fluttering about him. He begins to chant. > x wizard Young and wild-eyed. Like all mages he has drunk from the ancient waters of insight, let its nanomites into his blood, into his head. They are all, it is said, a little odd. But then, you did the same when you accepted No handle, did you not? Flames dance around them. He points at you, and the fire coalesces into a single arrow. > cut arrow You meet it head on. Its flames dissipate around No handle's blade. "Ah, that one was easy!" says the wizard. "Try this one next!" > cut robe It falls to the ground, pooling around the wizard's ankles. He laughs brightly. "If you wanted me to disrobe, you only had to ask!" The wizard begins to wave his hand in strange patterns. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. Writhing white tentacles sprout from the undergrowth around you, closing in quickly. > cut tentacles Severed limbs fall into the undergrowth, flailing and twitching. Yet more sprout from the ground. They lunge at you. You jump out of their way, barely evading their grasping coils. A flick of the wizard's hand, and they sink into the ground once more. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to trace runes in the air. > cut runes That is either absent or unimportant. > x wizard Young and wild-eyed. Like all mages he has drunk from the ancient waters of insight, let its nanomites into his blood, into his head. They are all, it is said, a little odd. But then, you did the same when you accepted No handle, did you not? He snaps his fingers, and orbs of pure prismatic light flicker into being around them. For a second they hover in the air, darting to and fro?then they lock onto you. > cut orbs You manage to catch one; it explodes into shards of light. A myriad others remain. They dart towards you; quickly you roll behind a tree, and they shatter into a shower of sparks against its trunk. The air sizzles on your skin. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to wave his hand in strange patterns. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. A blob of slime emerges from the depths of the undergrowth. It twists and throbs, finally coalescing into a shambling homunculus. Glistening in the skylight, it takes a step towards you. > cut slime Its torso slides clean off and falls onto the ground with a wet plop. Both halves lie there, spasming?then stand up, reforming into two smaller homunculi. They both lunge; you just barely roll away from their blows. Then the wizard waves a hand and the homunculi melt away into the undergrowth. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to trace runes in the air. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. Writhing white tentacles sprout from the undergrowth around you, closing in quickly. > cut tentacles Severed limbs fall into the undergrowth, flailing and twitching. Yet more sprout from the ground. They lunge at you. You jump out of their way, barely evading their grasping coils. A flick of the wizard's hand, and they sink into the ground once more. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to wave his hand in strange patterns. > cut undergrowth Leaves fly through the air. With a cacophony of squawks a flock of iridescent birds takes flight; they shimmer in the faint rays of skylight as they soar towards the canopy above. The wizard snaps his fingers, and orbs of pure prismatic light flicker into being around them. For a second they hover in the air, darting to and fro?then they lock onto you. > cut orbs You manage to catch one; it explodes into shards of light. A myriad others remain. They dart towards you; quickly you roll behind a tree, and they shatter into a shower of sparks against its trunk. The air sizzles on your skin. > cut air That is either absent or unimportant. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to mutter an incantation. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. A blob of slime emerges from the depths of the undergrowth. It twists and throbs, finally coalescing into a shambling homunculus. Glistening in the skylight, it takes a step towards you. > cut slime Its torso slides clean off and falls onto the ground with a wet plop. Both halves lie there, spasming?then stand up, reforming into two smaller homunculi. They both lunge; you just barely roll away from their blows. Then the wizard waves a hand and the homunculi melt away into the undergrowth. > You are still. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to chant. > cut undergrowth Leaves fly through the air. With a cacophony of squawks a flock of iridescent birds takes flight; they shimmer in the faint rays of skylight as they soar towards the canopy above. Writhing white tentacles sprout from the undergrowth around you, closing in quickly. > cut tree A thick tree trunk crashes into the ground, where the undergrowth quickly begins to consume it. Sticky black sap oozes from its wound. The tentacles lunge at you. You jump out of their way, barely evading their grasping coils. A flick of the wizard's hand, and they sink into the ground once more. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to wave his hand in strange patterns. > cut undergrowth Leaves fly through the air. With a cacophony of squawks a flock of iridescent birds takes flight; they shimmer in the faint rays of skylight as they soar towards the canopy above. The wizard snaps his fingers, and orbs of pure prismatic light flicker into being around them. For a second they hover in the air, darting to and fro?then they lock onto you. > cut undergrowth Leaves fly through the air. With a cacophony of squawks a flock of iridescent birds takes flight; they shimmer in the faint rays of skylight as they soar towards the canopy above. The orbs are thrown into disarray. Instead of following their trajectory they dart off to chase the birds, spiraling upwards until they're engulfed by the leaves. The wizard whistles. "Ooh, clever! Try this one next!" > l The Forest of Ruan The deepest parts of the Forest are dim, and quiet. Thorny vines hang from gnarled trees. Thick shrubs pull at your legs as you walk. Only a few rays of skylight pierce through the canopy above. The wizard stands before you, stark naked. He begins to trace runes in the air. > x wizard Young and wild-eyed. Like all mages he has drunk from the ancient waters of insight, let its nanomites into his blood, into his head. They are all, it is said, a little odd. But then, you did the same when you accepted No handle, did you not? A blob of slime emerges from the depths of the undergrowth. It twists and throbs, finally coalescing into a shambling homunculus. Glistening in the skylight, it takes a step towards you. > cut tree A thick tree trunk crashes into the ground, landing right onto the homunculus. It explodes into blobs of slime, which melt away into the undergrowth. "Good job!" says the wizard, clapping. "Let's see you handle this!" > cut vines The severed vines flail and writhe, reaching towards you, before finally going limp. The wizard begins to chant. > cut vines The severed vines flail and writhe, reaching towards you, before finally going limp. Writhing white tentacles sprout from the undergrowth around you, closing in quickly. > cut vines The severed vines flail and writhe, reaching towards you. Instead they catch the tentacles surrounding you; they tangle together until they're twisted into an impossible snarl. The wizard dispels his magic with a flick of his hand. "Nice one!" he says. "Let's see how you handle this, then!" > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. The wizard begins to mutter an incantation. > cut tree A thick tree trunk crashes into the ground, where the undergrowth quickly begins to consume it. Sticky black sap oozes from its wound. The wizard points his finger directly at you. You brace yourself, and? You blink. ????? Everything is white. The endless dunes undulating around you. The endless sky glowing above you. A tower rises in the distance. > x tower Hazy, distant. You can't quite focus your gaze on it. > x dunes White. > x sky White. > i No handle is still with you. It is still real, and still solid. > cut self No. Not while No handle needs you. > cut dune Did the sand scatter under your blade? You can't quite focus enough to tell. > cut sky It is beyond your reach. > cut tower No handle is still real. Its blade still true. Slowly, silently, the tower falls. It seems to take forever to reach the ground, closer and closer and? You blink. The Forest of Ruan The deepest parts of the Forest are dim, and quiet. Thorny vines hang from gnarled trees. Thick shrubs pull at your legs as you walk. Only a few rays of skylight pierce through the canopy above. The wizard stands before you, stark naked and smiling brightly. "Huh," he says. "Not many can resist Elihost's Greater Mirage, you know. Congratulations!" He beams at you. "Well, that was fun! Now, did you need anything?" > talk to wizard "Come on, don't be shy! You've given me a fun fight?it's only fair that I help you out." > talk to wizard "Come on, don't be shy! You've given me a fun fight?it's only fair that I help you out." > ask wizard about tower You do not need to do that. Type verbs to see which actions you may take. > talk to wizard "Come on, don't be shy! You've given me a fun fight?it's only fair that I help you out." > wander You follow the strange wizard back to his home, a cozy hole carved into the trunk of a large tree. Cheerfully he shows you his divination equipment?strange metal contraptions of twisting wires and blinking lights?and explains how he can help you find your tower, how he can help you get there. You agree. It takes him nine days to find the tower's signal. He toils night and day, poring over his books and fiddling with his tools, chattering happily all the while without much minding that you do not speak back. In the evening he takes a break from his work to eat with you, laughing as he tells you of his research, as he shows you strange new spells he's discovered. Finally, the day comes. The wizard tears a whole in the world; beyond it a vision of the black tower twists and flickers. "Well, then!" he says. "Come visit me sometime! Unless the spell malfunctions! In which case you'll probably be in too many pieces to do that!" He hugs you, and with a wide grin he shoves you through his portal. You stumble out of the portal at the edge of a desert. Dunes of white sand spread out before you. In the distance, the hazy silhouette of a tower ripples in the distance. You are almost there. A small outpost stands before you and the desert, little more than a collection of decrepit buildings long abandoned. As you step through its empty streets, you are accosted by a gang of outlaws. They surround you, brandishing their crude clubs. You are not welcome here. Kothk Outpost Ramshackle buildings gathered around a tall stone obelisk. Few choose to live here, under the harsh desert sky. There is nothing here for anyone. A gang of outlaws stands before you. "Walk away, stranger," one tells you, brandishing their clubs. "This is our territory." You don't have time for this. > x outlaws Rough-looking. Scowling. The kind with nothing left to lose, simply waiting for the Earth to die. They don't matter. They're in your way. > cut club No handle glints in the skylight, and the men's clubs fall in pieces onto the ground. Their eyes grow wide. Their faces grow ashen. Perhaps it's the look on your face that stops them in their tracks?or perhaps just the glint of skylight on No handle's blade. Is there a difference? It doesn't matter. Their courage fails; shouting invectives, they scramble away, disappearing into the white desert. Your way is clear. Kothk Outpost Ramshackle buildings gathered around a tall stone obelisk. Few choose to live here, under the harsh desert sky. There is nothing here for anyone. Certainly not for you. > wander Without sparing a glance behind you, you walk into the desert. You walk. Under the unrelenting noon sky and through the chill of the night. One step after the other, leaving deep prints in the sand. You clutch No handle in your hand until your fingers tremble. You walk, and walk, and walk. And, finally, the Black Tower stands before you. The Black Tower White dunes surround you, growing hazy in the distance. The Black Tower rises far above you, so tall it disappears into the golden glow of the sky. You stand before its gate, a slab of smooth black stone. It does not open for you. > x gate A slab of black stone stands in your way. > x tower Angular patterns are carved deep into its black walls. > x sky A faint golden sheen glows above you. > cut gate Ancient stone is no match for No handle. The thick slabs fall to pieces before you. Clutching your sword, you step inside, into the darkness. < intruder > < leave > The Black Tower The inside of the tower is quiet, and dark. Black stone walls surround you. Black stone stairs lead upwards into the unknown. On the wall, a panel shows you a vision of the tower. A metal sentinel bars your way. < i am the guardian of this place > > x panel The panel shows you a vision of the tower you stand in. It rises as tall as you've seen, but it is not surrounded by desert. Tall trees grow all around its base, their tips capped with snow. < you are not authorized to be here > > x sentinel Sleek, shiny chrome. < leave > > talk to sentinel It does not respond. < i am the guardian of this place > > u You do not need to do that. You need only wander. < you are not authorized to be here > > wander You are not yet done here. < leave > > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. < i am the guardian of this place > > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. < you are not authorized to be here > > cut sentinel Sparks erupt from the sentinel's chassis as it crashes to the floor in a twitching heap. It convulses once, twice, then, finally, stills. You are alone once more. You step over the sentinel's smoking remains, and you climb. < turn back > You climb. The steps are treacherous. Sections of the stairs are long collapsed. At times you find stone platforms that lift you upwards for hours; other times you have to carve your own footholds into the walls. But you climb. The Black Tower Black stone walls still surround you. Black stone stairs still lead upwards. On the wall a panel shows you a vision of a white orb. A metal sentinel bars your way, perched on three sharp, spindly limbs. < stop this > > You are still. > cut lumb That is either absent or unimportant. > cut limb The sentinel swipes at you, and you catch its metal limb as it comes down, severing it neatly. It crashes onto the floor, limp. The sentinel recoils. < you do not understand why we built this > > You are still. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. < you do not understand why we took the sky from you > > cut limb Again, the sentinel swipes at you. Again you strike. Unable to balance, it comes crashing down; its remaining limb scrabbles at the stone floor as it desperately tries to right itself. < you do not understand what we meant to keep out > > You are still. > talk to sentinel It does not respond. < stop this > > You are still. > cut limb As the sentinel lies helpless on the stone floor, you sever its remaining limb. < you do not understand why we built this > > You are still. > You are still. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. < you do not understand why we took the sky from you > > u You do not need to do that. You need only wander. < you do not understand what we meant to keep out > > cut sentinel Sparks erupt from the sentinel's chassis as it crashes to the floor in a twitching heap. It convulses once, twice, then, finally, stills. You are alone once more. You step over the sentinel's smoking remains, and you climb. < we had to keep them out > You climb. Your legs ache. Your fingers tremble around No handle's hilt. Strange symbols etched into the wall watch you as you pass. But you climb. The Black Tower The tower seems to go on forever. Still the stairs continue to rise. On the wall, a panel shows you a vision of a pyramid. A metal sentinel bars your way, perched on three sharp, spindly limbs. Above it a gemstone floats, glowing bright blue. < it has been years > > x gemstone It lies on the floor. Its glow has died. < it has been thousands of thousands of thousands of years > > cut gemstone You cut a deep gouge into the gem. It falls from the air as its blue light blinks out. < no one remembers what we did > > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. Already the gem is beginning to heal itself. The edges of its wound begin to close. < we have been forgotten > > cut sentinel You grip No handle's hilt?but before you can strike at its chassis the sentinel swipes at you with one of its spindly limbs. You roll away to safety just as it smashes into the floor. The gem continues mending itself. The wound is barely a crack, now. < it has been years > > cut limb The sentinel swipes at you, and you catch its metal limb as it comes down, severing it neatly. It crashes onto the floor, limp. The sentinel recoils. With a slight buzzing sound, the gem rises in the air. Its blue glow bathes the room once more. < it has been thousands of thousands of thousands of years > > cut gemstone You cut a deep gouge into the gem. It falls from the air as its blue light blinks out. < no one remembers what we did > > cut limb Again, the sentinel swipes at you. Again you strike. Unable to balance, it comes crashing down; its remaining limb scrabbles at the stone floor as it desperately tries to right itself. Already the gem is beginning to heal itself. The edges of its wound begin to close. < we have been forgotten > > cut limb As the sentinel lies helpless on the stone floor, you sever its remaining limb. The gem continues mending itself. The wound is barely a crack, now. < it has been years > > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. With a slight buzzing sound, the gem rises in the air. Its blue glow bathes the room once more. < it has been thousands of thousands of thousands of years > > x gemstone It lies on the floor. Its glow has died. < no one remembers what we did > > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. < we have been forgotten > > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. < it has been years > > cut gemstone You cut a deep gouge into the gem. It falls from the air as its blue light blinks out. < it has been thousands of thousands of thousands of years > > You are still. > cut sentinel Sparks erupt from the sentinel's chassis as it crashes to the floor in a twitching heap. It convulses once, twice, then, finally, stills. You are alone once more. You step over the sentinel's smoking remains, and you climb. < why are you doing this? > You climb. How much time passes? It feels as if you've spent your whole life within these black walls. The Black Tower How long will you have to do this? On the wall, a panel shows you distorted, flickering images. A strange five-pointed symbol made of light floats in the middle of the room, bathing the black walls with its red glow. A metal sentinel bars your way, perched on three sharp, spindly limbs. Above it a gemstone floats, glowing bright blue.. A faint red aura surrounds it, flickering slightly. < leave now leave leave leave leave leave leave leave > > cut symbol The symbol flickers and turns orange. The aura surrounding the sentinel turns the same color. < leave me alone > > cut panel The vision flickers out. Only blackness remains. < please > > cut symbol The symbol flickers and turns yellow. The aura surrounding the sentinel turns the same color. < please > > cut symbol The symbol flickers and turns green. The aura surrounding the sentinel turns the same color. > cut symbol The symbol flickers and turns blue. The aura surrounding the sentinel turns the same color?the same as the gem embedded in the sentinel's chassis. It seems to resonate with it; both flash bright, and when the light abates the aura is gone. > z You wait for the perfect moment to strike. > cut gemstone You grasp No handle's hilt?but before you can draw your blade, the sentinel gives a violent, painful shudder, and crashes limp to the ground. For a few breaths you wait, but after a few more convulsions it finally goes still. You are alone once more. You step over its smoking remains, and you climb. < i have run the calculations > < they are gone > < they have to be gone > < it has been too long > < there is nothing left for our defenses to keep out > < we are alone in the universe > The Black Tower You have reached the highest level of the Tower. A panel on the wall shows you a vision of a globe. A dome ceiling soars above, pitch black. The stairs do not go any further. The Guardian hangs in the middle of the hall, held aloft by thick black tendrils. < but what else can i do? > it says. < what else is left for me? > > x guardian A towering stone face looms above you, hanging in the middle of the hall. Its carved features are worn down to almost nothing. > talk to guardian < i don't know what to do > the Guardian says. < i don't know what to do > > talk to guardian < i don't know what to do > the Guardian says. < i don't know what to do > > cut dome No handle flashes, and a circle of stone falls to the ground with a deafening thump. Golden light streams into the darkness of the room. There is nowhere to go but up. < wait > the Guardian says. < i don't know what to do > But there is nothing left to say. Wordlessly, you climb up into the light. The Sky You stand at the pinnacle of the world. Golden light all around you. The sky above you, close enough to touch. > x sky A strange hexagonal sheen shimmers along its surface. > cut sky Sparks erupt as No handle makes contact. It jolts back from the impact, almost sending you reeling back. You hold steady. You cut. The sky begins to split open; the edges of the wound glow incandescent around the blade. Energy crackles along the metal and down your arms until your entire body thrums with it. But you hold steady. But No handle stays true. You cut. And the sky breaks into shimmering shards. You lie there for a while, atop the tower at the pinnacle of the world. The opened sky is a blue deeper than any you've ever seen. A disc of light shines above you, so bright that you almost cannot bear to look at it. You never knew it was possible for such light to exist; it warms all it touches, an almost burning pressure on your skin. You lie there, in the silence. Slowly the disc of light sinks into the horizon and sets the sky on fire; violet and red and orange and yellow bloom before your eyes, then fade into a rosy glow. Finally, there is darkness. And one by one little pinpricks of light begin to appear, studded diamonds in the darkness, until the sky is twinkling and glittering all around you. Until the world is alight with splendor. You get up, eventually. You have to. Your body feels strange?heavy and hollow at the same time. You clutch No handle in your trembling hand. You walk. You walk down the steps of the black tower. You walk past the remains of its sentinels. You walk out of its ruined gate. You walk, and walk, and walk. And, standing in the vastness of the desert, under the brand new sky, you look up. You have achieved the unachievable. What is left, now? The White Desert You are alone. The dunes stretch out all around you. The sky above glitters with a myriad twinkling dots. You have never seen such light. You don't know what to do. > You are still. > i You have nothing but No handle. > drop no handle You drop No handle. It lands on the ground with a dull thump. Everything is still. The White Desert You are alone. The dunes stretch out all around you. The sky above glitters with a myriad twinkling dots. You have never seen such light. No handle lies at your feet. > wander The wind blows. Already the sand is beginning to bury the sword. You turn away. Tell, me, traveler. What is your name? > 87 87. Yes. A fine name. Where will you go now, 87, with nothing left to drive you? Perhaps you'll return to the Forest of Ruan and visit that strange, cheerful wizard. He could show you whichever odd new spell he'll have discovered, and perhaps he could even teach you how to work his odd equipment. He would enjoy the company, and you would enjoy his laughter. Or maybe you'll go looking for the stone-faced caravan guard again. She'll still be wandering south of the mountains, no doubt, selling her protection to passing merchants. You'll travel together across the rolling hills, and perhaps she'll tell you more stories of her journeys. Or you'll head westward from Pertra and track down the quiet gunman. Whichever new job he'll have taken will no doubt be trouble. He'll accept your help, and you'll work together for a time, and you'll again find peace in his silence. Or, perhaps, you'll find that nimble thief again. She won't come looking for you, of course, and if you were to search for her you'd only find rumors and whispers. But maybe one day, in a crowded market, you'll catch a glimpse of that patchwork bandana, and maybe she'll smile when you catch her arm. She would understand what you've lost, you think, better than anyone else ever could. ...But all that will be later. For now you are stranded on the other side of the world, with oceans and forests and deserts and mountains standing between you and everything you know. The world stretches out before you, under the radiant light of the brand new sky. *** The End *** You may RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, or RETURN. You may also learn a special COMMAND. > command Type reminisce to revisit to any scene in the game. You may RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, or RETURN. You may also learn a special COMMAND. > restore