Start of a transcript of The Four Eccentrics An Interactive Fiction by Mild Cat Bean Release 1 / Serial number 191005 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.33 lib 6/12N) The cover is adapted from a photo by Tim Green - Autumnal Steps, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51918109. Identification number: //D302386A-757A-491F-A433-8F2F87F6CC89// Interpreter version 2.1.6 / VM 3.1.2 / Library serial number 080126 Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson >l Park (in the pit) You are lying in a shallow pit, arms and legs outspread, just below the surface of the earth. A wispy tangle floats above your head. >x tangle Fragments of a dream, perhaps one that belonged to you? In the unravelling threads you can see a dog racing up the hill, faster and faster, the wind exhilarating on its rider's face as the steed accelerates. Suddenly the hill runs out, rider and dog racing through thin air, rider twisting back to look at the cliff's edge and wonder how they didn't see it coming. Your destrier dog is gone and it is just you, falling, fallingÖ Then you plunge into gray cloud. The foggy, gummy layer resists your passage briefly, before you plummet into dazzling light... The tangle of threads sublimates, and in seconds it is as if it were never there. >l Park (in the pit) You are lying in a shallow pit, arms and legs outspread, just below the surface of the earth. >u When finally you can think clearly enough to stand you find you are unhurt -- but deeply disconcerted. Is it still possible to wake up, and escape this dream? You get out of the pit. Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >i your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) >wear left arm (somewhat clumsily) Thlup! The limb snaps on like it was attached with magnets. You put on the left arm. >x me You feel just like yourself, but strangely different. >x globes The globes look made of lead at first glance, and when you push one with your foot, it certainly feels heavy enough to be. But up close their metal is more translucent, and inside each can be seen a faint moving image, as if through grey and dirty water. >x globe The globes look made of lead at first glance, and when you push one with your foot, it certainly feels heavy enough to be. But up close their metal is more translucent, and inside each can be seen a faint moving image, as if through grey and dirty water. >take globe With some effort, you manage to heave one of the leaden globes into your arms. You really want to put it down as soon as possible. >x it The globes look made of lead at first glance, and when you push one with your foot, it certainly feels heavy enough to be. But up close their metal is more translucent, and inside each can be seen a faint moving image, as if through grey and dirty water. >i Lost Dream of a Hearty Meal >x lost dream In this one, someone is sinking their teeth into a pink and juicy steak. But the color is faded, as if it washed out as the dream sank back to earth. >drop it You set down this burden with a sigh. You're glad to give it up, but even this short period of proximity has made you feel a certain nostalgia for what could have been. >x stones The stones are taller than you and shaped roughly like pickles standing on end. >x trees These trees seem to be more akin to coral than to more familiar perennial woody plants. >x tower It is a ways off to the north; to judge from this distance it must be a hundred feet high, but only the upper reaches are visible from here. The tower is ivory-white in color, with an elaborate curled top like a Corinthian column. >x path You can't see any such thing. >x cliff You can't see any such thing. >x cliffs You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >x canal You can't see any such thing. >x pavilion The pavilion sits on a raised platform, with steps leading up to a open doorway. It is made of a diaphanous material hanging in luminous folds around the various arched windows overhead. You can barely make out some furnishings of some sort inside. >enter it Gauzebo Going up the steps, you have to step over a large pile of unopened mail addressed to "The Dream Architect" just inside the doorway. Looking around, you find yourself inside a structure reminding you of both workshop and fortune-teller's tent. Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies an elegant woman. >x mail A large pile of unopened mail addressed to "The Dream Architect" is heaped just inside the doorway. >search mail You find nothing of interest. >x woman The woman in a black evening gown with handmade black lace trim rests upon the couch in a deep sleep, possibly even a coma. Her fingers are ink-stained, and at first you think her face has been draped in garlands of flowers. But on closer inspection, you see that her head itself is entirely composed of blossoms, her bright sweetpea lips strung between two rosy cheeks, the closed moonflowers of her eyes beneath a smooth and creamy calla lily forehead, and the dark monkshood of her hair gathered up in coils atop her head. The beauty of her face is marred by a wound, a dark stain on one magnolia temple. A large weevil of some sort seems to have lodged itself deep into her brain. You realize with a slight shock that this woman must be the Dream Architect! >talk to woman That's not a verb I recognize. >about That's not a verb I recognize. >help That's not a verb I recognize. >ask woman about herself She takes in the book in your hands and the crushed weevil on the floor, and sighs. "Ah, at least not all my dreams went amiss. You've done well, with what little help I could offer from my hebetude, but I'm only an architect of dreams. The Ancient Expert should have come to my aid long since." >ask woman about expert "The Expert has always been the one to put any problems to rights, and I fear the worst. Please go to the Tower where she lives, in the old North End of the city; I'm not well enough yet myself, but I can tell you a trick to getting through that mazy slum." She explains to you how to navigate the northern alleys to reach the Corinthian Tower. "Find out what the matter is and bring me word, and together we will consider what is to be done." >take all vermilion book: Taken. chartreuse book: Taken. ecru book: Taken. zaffre book: Taken. gamboge book: Taken. oxblood book: Taken. bronze book: Taken. >read vermilion You read to the Dream Architect in hopes it might help, but no visible change occurs. You realize what you really need is a book that is stronger medicine than this one. >x it You read to the Dream Architect in hopes it might help, but no visible change occurs. You realize what you really need is a book that is stronger medicine than this one. >read chartreuse You read to the Dream Architect in hopes it might help, but no visible change occurs. You realize what you really need is a book that is stronger medicine than this one. >read ecru You read to the Dream Architect in hopes it might help, but no visible change occurs. You realize what you really need is a book that is stronger medicine than this one. >read zaffre You read to the Dream Architect in hopes it might help, but no visible change occurs. You realize what you really need is a book that is stronger medicine than this one. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >read zaffre "By heating mercuric calc and collecting the gas emitted, Priestley found he had at last isolated truly dephlogisticated air. He demonstrated this conclusively by introducing the embers of a previously lit wooden splint, which transferred its phlogiston to the gas, causing it to suddenly burst into flame once more." Reading an excerpt from this tome tastes a little off, as though its information is well past its expiration date. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book an oxblood book a gamboge book a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book a chartreuse book a vermilion book >read bronze A heavy leather tome, with bronze fittings and a large locked hasp that prevents it from opening. Its cover, however, declares it in Gothic block lettering to be The Collected Fairy Tales of the Sisters Ffey. >read oxblood "When she climbed under the bed with me, I suddenly realized why no other monster would haunt this girl: she wasn't afraid of us. It was only those heavy footsteps coming down the hall each night that she truly feared. And I vowed then and there that this night would be the last time he came for her. After all, I was her monster..." After reading a short passage from a horror story, you feel a little disturbed, but also strangely invigorated. >read gamboge "An alternative architectural theory based on scientific laws is now competing with purely aesthetic theories most common in architectural academia. This entire body of work can be seen as balancing and often questioning design movements that rely primarily upon aesthetics and novelty. At the same time, the scientific results that determine this approach in fact verify traditional and vernacular understandings in a way that purely historical appreciation cannot." You find yourself chewing over the words repeatedly, but they provide no more nourishment the third time around than they did the first. >read ecru "Glass brick has an R value between 1.75 and 1.96; when injected with argon gas and with a layer of low-emissivity glass between the halves, heat dispersion is reduced from a thermal transmission coefficient U of 2.8 W/m=?K to a U value of 1.8 W/m=?K." Just a quick glance into this manual makes you feel a little queasy, and you find it impossible to digest. >read chartreuse Her Anxiety by W. B. Yeats Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing. Prove that I lie. Such body lovers have, Such exacting breath, That they touch or sigh. Every touch they give, Love is nearer death. Prove that I lie. >read vermilion Jenny Kiss'd Me by Leigh Hunt Jenny kiss'd me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in! Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add Jenny kiss'd me. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) an oxblood book (a volume of horror stories) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a chartreuse book (poetry) a vermilion book (poetry) >x knowledge The Dream Architect explained that it takes more than simply trying to go westwards through the labyrinthine North End: you must also have a focused, persistent purpose in your heart that can strike through the cluttering slums of distraction. >l Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >x couch You see nothing special about the reclining couch. >lie on couch I only understood you as far as wanting to lie. >sit on couch The couch is too small for two unless you are very well-acquainted. >x rug You follow the entrancing spiral of muted colors as they blend into one another, around, and around, when with a start you find you have rather lost track of time. >take ru You can't see any such thing. >take rug While borrowing a few of her books may be an absolute necessity, this is clearly the artist's property. Maybe you should help her first, and then see about asking her if you could have it? >pull rug It is fixed in place. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x monument In one obtuse corner of the market plaza is a huge block of crystal, a geometric solid of some kind without any right angles. Inside, somehow, is a highly lifelike statue of an extremely disgruntled looking rotund man, holding his arms akimbo as if gesticulating in the midst of argument. Slumped against the side of the block which is closest to upright is a bored-looking guard. >x guard Her old, bedraggled uniform matches the rather downcast look on her face. >ask guard about monument The guard starts, as if thinking about something else. She scrambles to her feet, hastily straightening her uniform. There is no reply. >ask guard about herself There is no reply. >ask guard about me There is no reply. >ask guard about crystal "Oh, hello! I'm on duty at present for... ah, sorry, this crystal thing here is the famous Rhomboid Prism. The Expert supposedly uses it sparingly, but my fath--um, the current inmate was a baker imprismed almost a year ago for trying to stretch his poetry out by mixing it with doggerel. She should have released him by now; the poor man has done far more than his allotted time." >open crystal It isn't something you can open. >touch it You feel nothing unexpected. >break it You're not quite ready to resort to violence. >x statue The surface of the crystal prism is smooth and cool, and translucent with only a slight pale cloudiness to the crystal's interior. Each plane of the shape is perfectly smooth. The figure inside is perfectly realized, as if a real person had been trapped in amber. >x fountain At the fountain's center stands the sort of highbrow abstract sculpture you've never found particularly appealing. There is no water in the fountain, but the edge of the stone basin at least serves as a bench for the citizenry. At the moment, this only amounts to a single middle-aged shopper resting beside her basket of books. >ask shopper about herself There is no reply. >ask shopper about fountain "Oh, my dear, it used to be so dazzling to watch the water dance here! When I was a young girl, on hot days my mother used to let me jump in to dance along with it!" She seems lost in reverie for a moment. "But it hasn't looked right, or worked like it ought to for a very long time, and now I'm left with only my memory of how it was. But I suppose the Expert has grown old like all of us, and no longer comes down from her tower to fix such small things." >ask shopper about expert There is no reply. >ask guard about expert "She's a neglectful jerk, if you ask me. Sure, maybe he deserved it, but for no more than a few days. And she's never come back to even check up on him in all this time!" >x sculpture A welded stack of curving, contorted bronze shapes that from this angle might tax the imagination to suggest a tubular flower bud with drooping stamens. >x fabric It does not seem very fashionable to your eye, and lacks any buttons, clasps or other ornamentation. But it has plenty of open neck- and arm-holes available, if you wanted to try it on. >wear fabric (first taking the market cloak) You pick up a length of the cloak. The people wearing it look towards you encouragingly. You find the hem and duck under, then slip your head up through an available opening, with two adjacent holes for your arms. And when you take a step toward the rest of the market, you find that the holes move freely through the cloth with you. Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl wanders amongst the market-goers, holding up a medical kit that she is offering for sale. A tall genial woman stands near the center of the market idly holding a bottle of ink. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >ask girl about herself There is no reply. >ask girl about kit There is no reply. >buy kit Nothing is on sale. >x girl Her smile is small and mysterious. Her hair sticks up around her pointed face in a tall brush of white fronds. She is holding a medical kit. "Interested?" asks the girl. She lets you take a closer look at the medical kit. "It's yours for two poetry." >give poetry to girl You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) an oxblood book (a volume of horror stories) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a chartreuse book (poetry) a vermilion book (poetry) >give chartreuse to girl "Thank you!" she says. "I can't let it go for less than two, though." >give vermilion to girl The girl flips through the vermilion book. She traces a line with her finger and her smile expands like a crescent moon. "Oh, nice, I haven't read this one. Here you go, I hope it helps." She hands you the medical kit and skips away happily. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) an oxblood book (a volume of horror stories) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a medical kit (closed) >x kit A wooden box with a caduceus engraved on the lid. >open it You open the medical kit, revealing forceps, a cotton bandage, a scalpel, and a vial. >x vial You see nothing special about the vial. >read it You see nothing special about the vial. >x woman She has pleated the communal cloak around her angular body in a complex fashion. Her eyes are wide and shaped like almonds. She is holding a bottle of ink. "Afternoon," says the tall woman. She lets you take a closer look at the bottle of ink. "This is all I have left to sell today. But I suppose I could let it go for just one poem." >x ink A bottle of sepia ink. The tall woman carelessly holds the bottle up to the sunlight. "Nothing special, I'll let it go for just one poem, but in the right hands it will serve to make real what is yet only imagined." >x fellow His skin is wrinkled in a lacy pattern and he is bald as a pebble. He is holding an ethereal sieve. "Why hello there," says the elderly fellow. He lets you take a closer look at the ethereal sieve. "It's yours for four." >x sieve It looks like a simple metal sieve. The old fellow waggles the sieve temptingly. "Designed to strain the celestial pablum for undiluted liquid starlight. It's a steal at four poetry, if I say so myself." >l Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman stands near the center of the market idly holding a bottle of ink. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >s You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >s Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >take all There are none at all available! >x books You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >x book Which do you mean, bookshelves, the bronze book, the oxblood book, the gamboge book, the zaffre book, or the ecru book? >bookshelves You see nothing special about bookshelves. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a beggar holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >x beggar He is remarkably dirty for a man sitting beside a canal. >ask beggar about himself "Oh, coins is just a hobby I took up to while away all the time I had, without a broom or a bridge to sweep in the first place. It's a simple enough game--would you like to play coins with me?" >play Squatting over a wide paving stone, the fellow places coins in three lines of 7, 5, and 3. He explains to you that on each turn you can move or remove one coin, or all but one in a given row. You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by making all the rows have an even number of coins. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by making all the rows have an even number of coins. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, you win almost by accident. This game is trickier than it looks! He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by making all the rows have an even number of coins. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, you win almost by accident. This game is trickier than it looks! He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, you win almost by accident. This game is trickier than it looks! He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >l Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. >x cup You see nothing special about the chipped enamel cup. >search it You find nothing of interest. >ask beggar about cup "Oh, coins is just a hobby I took up to while away all the time I had, without a broom or a bridge to sweep in the first place. It's a simple enough game--would you like to play coins with me?" >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. >s Alas, you lack a boat. And it's much too far to swim! >e You can't go that way. >n Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >w You pick an alley according to a system that seems reasonable enough, and set off into the mazy North End. Every now and then, an irregularly shaped tenement forces the alley to angle to the left or right, a little and sometimes a lot. Unable to see the sun, all the bends and angles soon scramble your sense of direction, and the shadowy confines make it difficult to identify any landmarks, contributing further to the labyrinthine sense of the place. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >ne You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >n You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >ne You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, south, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, south, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, north, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >x tree The grand old elm's columnar trunk reaches high above the nearby roofs, its spreading bouquet-like foliage topped only by the nearby tower. It seems inconceivable that it could have been selectively pruned to produce this effect, but somehow only five distinct sunbeams pierce down to the clearing floor. >climb tree Little is to be achieved by that. >touch tree You feel nothing unexpected. >smell tree You smell nothing unexpected. >x tower Finally having reached the foot of the Corinthian Tower, you can still only barely make out the ornate carvings at its top, due to the intervening canopy of the tree. >enter tower (first opening Towerdoor) Try as you might, you can find no way to get the tower door to open. >x door The simple black door has, to your surprise, no knocker, bell, or even handle! It bears, instead, a little brass plaque. It is currently shut tight. >x plaque It reads: "Play, friend, and enter." >play That was a rhetorical question. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) an oxblood book (a volume of horror stories) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a medical kit (open) forceps a cotton bandage a scalpel a vial >read bronze A heavy leather tome, with bronze fittings and a large locked hasp that prevents it from opening. Its cover, however, declares it in Gothic block lettering to be The Collected Fairy Tales of the Sisters Ffey. >take plaque That's hardly portable. >play That was a rhetorical question. >play friend You can't see any such thing. >x me You feel just like yourself, but strangely different. >l Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >x shade The grand old elm's columnar trunk reaches high above the nearby roofs, its spreading bouquet-like foliage topped only by the nearby tower. It seems inconceivable that it could have been selectively pruned to produce this effect, but somehow only five distinct sunbeams pierce down to the clearing floor. >x sunbeams From some point high in the foliage, a sunbeam splits into five perfect strands of light which angle to the ground in a perfectly straight line, like nothing so much as the strings in a harp. >play sunbeams Under your fingers the beams have a buzzy vibration to them, and when plucked fill the glade with a resonant effervescence. But your fingers feel clumsy and hesitant, and you struggle to produce even a proper scale. If only you could get a little practice in first with some more experienced musicians. >s You can't go that way. >w You can't go that way. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, north, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, south, and southeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, north, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >e With a little luck you manage to find your way back to the canal. You take some deep breaths, glad to have a respite from the claustrophobic confines of the city slums. Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >w You can't go that way. >sw Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. A single sequin blazes up from the ground to catch your eye, perhaps an indication that this place is sometimes more lively. >x sequin Up close, the sequin looks less striking; scratched and dusty, it speaks forlornly of lost grandeur. >take it Taken. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) an oxblood book (a volume of horror stories) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a sequin a medical kit (open) forceps a cotton bandage a scalpel a vial >open bronze Unfortunately you can't, until you find a key that will unlock the heavy hasp. >x trees You can't see any such thing. >w You can't go that way. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >enter cloak That's not something you can enter. >wear cloak (first taking the market cloak) Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman stands near the center of the market idly holding a bottle of ink. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >x sieve It looks like a simple metal sieve. The old fellow waggles the sieve temptingly. "Designed to strain the celestial pablum for undiluted liquid starlight. It's a steal at four poetry, if I say so myself." >out But you aren't in anything at the moment. >remove cloak You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >se Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >w You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >sw You can't go that way. >s You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >se You can't go that way. >e Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >nw You can't go that way. >ne You can't go that way. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >ask fellow about music You can't see any such thing. >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, you win almost by accident. This game is trickier than it looks! He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by making all the rows have an even number of coins. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, you win almost by accident. This game is trickier than it looks! He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, you win almost by accident. This game is trickier than it looks! He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by making all the rows have an even number of coins. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >play You give the game a try. In the end, he wins by removing the last coin. He grins at you. "Not bad for a beginner! Wanna play again?" >l Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >x wall You can't see any such thing. >n You can't go that way. >w North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >sw You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >sw You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >x tower Finally having reached the foot of the Corinthian Tower, you can still only barely make out the ornate carvings at its top, due to the intervening canopy of the tree. >s You can't go that way. >w You can't go that way. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >e With a little luck you manage to find your way back to the canal. You take some deep breaths, glad to have a respite from the claustrophobic confines of the city slums. Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >w You can't go that way. >sw Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x fountain At the fountain's center stands the sort of highbrow abstract sculpture you've never found particularly appealing. There is no water in the fountain, but the edge of the stone basin at least serves as a bench for the citizenry. At the moment, this only amounts to a single middle-aged shopper resting beside her basket of books. >x books You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >x shopper The woman has dark, intelligent brows and wears a brightly patterned shawl. From her basket, it appears she has been shopping. >ask shopper about books There is no reply. >ask shopper about basket "Yes, I was rather fortunate today. My husband and I will not starve this week, at least." >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) an oxblood book (a volume of horror stories) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a sequin a medical kit (open) forceps a cotton bandage a scalpel a vial >give oxblood to shopper You give the oxblood book to the shopper. >take oxblood That seems to belong to the shopper. >l Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x shopper The woman has dark, intelligent brows and wears a brightly patterned shawl. From her basket, it appears she has been shopping. >x basket You can't see any such thing. >ask shopper about oxblood There is no reply. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a sequin a medical kit (open) forceps a cotton bandage a scalpel a vial >x forceps You see nothing special about forceps. >take forceps Taken. >take bandage Taken. >take scalpel Taken. >take vial Taken. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x vial You see nothing special about the vial. >search it You find nothing of interest. >open it It isn't something you can open. >drink it There's nothing suitable to drink here. >x scalpel You see nothing special about the scalpel. >x bandage You see nothing special about the cotton bandage. >l Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >cut monument Cutting it up would achieve little. >s Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >ask architect about music You can't see any such thing. >ask architect about me You can't see any such thing. >ask architect about herself You can't see any such thing. >ask woman about music There is no reply. >ask woman about me There is no reply. >ask woman about tower "The Expert has always been the one to put any problems to rights, and I fear the worst. Please go to the Tower where she lives, in the old North End of the city; I'm not well enough yet myself, but I can tell you a trick to getting through that mazy slum." She explains to you how to navigate the northern alleys to reach the Corinthian Tower. "Find out what the matter is and bring me word, and together we will consider what is to be done." >ask woman about door There is no reply. >ask woman about sunbeams There is no reply. >ask woman about musicians There is no reply. >ask woman about musician There is no reply. >ask woman about mail There is no reply. >ask woman about books There is no reply. >ask woman about poetry There is no reply. >l Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >x ceiling Jupiter appears to be looping through Virgo at the moment, but by the time you've worked out that it is trining Pluto, opposing Chiron, and squaring Saturn you already have a crick in your neck. This would be much easier done while lying on the couch. >x posters You become acquainted with the locations of the mount of Luna and the column of fornix, though already you can't quite remember which is associated with memory and which with imagination. >x blueprints Some of these buildings fold into themselves or spiral up fantastically, while another seems uncomfortably similar to the house you grew up in. >x mirrors The mirrors have dark varnished frames and flaking silver backs that seem to keep or lose more light than they reflect. In one you see your father looking back at you. >u You can't go that way. >l Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >take globe With some effort, you manage to heave one of the leaden globes into your arms. You really want to put it down as soon as possible. >n (staggering under the weight of the Lost Dream) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >give globe to woman Who do you mean, the guard or the shopper? >shopper You give Lost Dream of a Great Adventure to the shopper. >s Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >take globe With some effort, you manage to heave one of the leaden globes into your arms. You really want to put it down as soon as possible. >n (staggering under the weight of the Lost Dream) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >give globe to guard (Lost Dream of a Road Trip to the guard) You give Lost Dream of a Road Trip to the guard. >x lost dream Which do you mean, Lost Dream of a Road Trip or Lost Dream of a Great Adventure? >road In this one, someone is speeding down an empty highway in a bright yellow convertible. But the color is faded, as if it washed out as the dream sank back to earth. >x lost dream Which do you mean, Lost Dream of a Road Trip or Lost Dream of a Great Adventure? >great In this one, someone is cutting through foliage with a machete. But the color is faded, as if it washed out as the dream sank back to earth. >l Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >wear cloak (first taking the market cloak) Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman stands near the center of the market idly holding a bottle of ink. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give gamboge to woman The woman considers the gamboge book carefully. "Oh dear, this isn't really the sort of book I could use." >read it "An alternative architectural theory based on scientific laws is now competing with purely aesthetic theories most common in architectural academia. This entire body of work can be seen as balancing and often questioning design movements that rely primarily upon aesthetics and novelty. At the same time, the scientific results that determine this approach in fact verify traditional and vernacular understandings in a way that purely historical appreciation cannot." You find yourself chewing over the words repeatedly, but they provide no more nourishment the third time around than they did the first. >read zaffre "By heating mercuric calc and collecting the gas emitted, Priestley found he had at last isolated truly dephlogisticated air. He demonstrated this conclusively by introducing the embers of a previously lit wooden splint, which transferred its phlogiston to the gas, causing it to suddenly burst into flame once more." Reading an excerpt from this tome tastes a little off, as though its information is well past its expiration date. >read ecru "Glass brick has an R value between 1.75 and 1.96; when injected with argon gas and with a layer of low-emissivity glass between the halves, heat dispersion is reduced from a thermal transmission coefficient U of 2.8 W/m=?K to a U value of 1.8 W/m=?K." Just a quick glance into this manual makes you feel a little queasy, and you find it impossible to digest. >cut woman Cutting her up would achieve little. >cut cloak Cutting it up would achieve little. >l Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman stands near the center of the market idly holding a bottle of ink. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >ask girl about vermilion There is no reply. >ask girl about herself There is no reply. >ask woman about herself There is no reply. >ask man about himself There is no reply. >w You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >n You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >w You can't go that way. >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >w North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >play sunbeams Under your fingers the beams have a buzzy vibration to them, and when plucked fill the glade with a resonant effervescence. But your fingers feel clumsy and hesitant, and you struggle to produce even a proper scale. If only you could get a little practice in first with some more experienced musicians. >n (first opening Towerdoor) Try as you might, you can find no way to get the tower door to open. >nw You can't go that way. >ne You can't go that way. >w You can't go that way. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, south, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >sw You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >se You can't go that way. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, north, and southeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >e With a little luck you manage to find your way back to the canal. You take some deep breaths, glad to have a respite from the claustrophobic confines of the city slums. Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give sequin to fellow You can't see any such thing. >give sequin to man You can't see any such thing. >x sequin Up close, the sequin looks less striking; scratched and dusty, it speaks forlornly of lost grandeur. >givve it to man That's not a verb I recognize. >o give Sorry, that can't be corrected. >give it to man You can't see any such thing. >give vial to man You can't see any such thing. >x man You can't see any such thing. >x fellow You can't see any such thing. >l Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. >x beggar He is remarkably dirty for a man sitting beside a canal. >give sequin to beggar He refuses, looking fairly embarrassed. "Really, I couldn't accept such charity." He gestures to the pedestrian traffic with a lop-sided, optimistic smile. "With people starting to cross the bridge again, I'll soon be able to earn my own living again." >ask beggar about bridge "This bridge was my charge for many years; I kept it clean, and passers-by would tip me for my efforts. But things have been bad for a while now, and getting worse. And when the Dream Architect fell ill, the town took a real downward turn--everything started falling apart, and when my bridge went, I was trapped on this side of it with nowhere to go and no way to make my livelihood. The Expert ought to be out fixing these problems, but alas, no one seems to have seen her." >ask beggar about architect You see a momentary flash of pride: "One of our most acclaimed Eccentrics, second only to the Ancient Expert herself!" But then his face falls. "The Dream Architect lives in the Gauzebo, in the park. I went to see her after my bridge went out, but I saw quick enough there was naught I could do for her, and even less she could do for me." >ask beggar about expert "She dwells in the Corinthian Tower that overlooks all the island. It's her job to fix any problems that arise, but either she's dead or deserted us, because she hasn't been seen in ages. >ask beggar about music There is no reply. >ask beggar about musicians There is no reply. >ask beggar about musician There is no reply. >ask beggar about tower "Just over there, hadn't you noticed it?" He's pointing towards the northwest, at the ornate tower you first noticed in the park. >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >listen You hear nothing unexpected. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >listen You hear nothing unexpected. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >x button You can't see any such thing. > I beg your pardon? >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x clock You can't see any such thing. >push button You can't see any such thing. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x button You can't see any such thing. >x smock You can't see any such thing. >l Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >ne You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >nw You can't go that way. >w You can't go that way. >sw You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >se You can't go that way. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >se Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. >x dock A weathered dock juts out into the bay, presumably for traveling to and from the island visible out in the bay, but no boats are tied up here. A small loading crane sags to one side in disrepair. A waterlogged bale of fibrous cargo eddies against one of the dock's pilings. >x bale Leaning as far down as you dare, you make out that the soggy bale is in fact composed of several hundred slim books lashed tightly together. >take bale It's much too far to reach it from up here. There's a crane on the loading dock that could probably reach it, if only it were working. >x crane On closer inspection, the crane actually looks to be in decent condition. Its arm and cable are intact, a steel hook dangling from the far end, and the winch turns easily enough. The reason the front end sags toward the canal seems to be that its design requires a counterweight in an empty socket at the back. Even a sufficiently large rock would probably fit the bill. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >s You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >take globe With some effort, you manage to heave one of the leaden globes into your arms. You really want to put it down as soon as possible. >e (staggering under the weight of the Lost Dream) Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A waterlogged bale of fibrous cargo eddies against one of the dock's pilings. >put globe on crane You gasp in relief as you roll its weight into the hollow socket at the back of the crane. The heavy globe fuses at once to the socket, and you are pleased to see the crane's front end rise and level off. You find that the crane's arm can now be maneuvered quite effortlessly. >use crane With a little practice, you soon have the knack of guiding the crane around, and once you hook the bale it is but a few seconds work at the winch to crank it, dripping, out of the canal and onto the dock. >x bale Pulling apart its bindings, you are disappointed to find nearly all the books in the bale sodden and utterly spoiled. But you manage to extract one slim surviving volume from the center that is still basically dry. >take it You can't see 'it' (nothing) at the moment. >take bale You can't see any such thing. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a mauve book a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >read mauve In the Night It doesn't seem to matter how often I shovel out the path. In the night the knife-like wind always smoothes it back like frosting. >l Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >search mass You find nothing of interest. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >wear cloak (first taking the market cloak) Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman stands near the center of the market idly holding a bottle of ink. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >give mauve to woman "Wonderful doing business with you; I do hope you can find a good use for this." She hands you the bottle of ink and strolls away. >x ink A bottle of sepia ink. >open it It isn't something you can open. >writ That's not a verb I recognize. >write That's not a verb I recognize. >paint That's not a verb I recognize. >draw That's not a verb I recognize. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >put ink on bandage What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >put ink on left arm Putting things on the left arm would achieve nothing. >drink ink There's nothing suitable to drink here. >put ink on vial What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >l Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman wanders about the maze-like folds and crannies of the market cloak, giving each person who passes an appraising glance. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >put ink on fellow What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >x limb You can't see any such thing. >x limbs You can't see any such thing. >x arms You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >out But you aren't in anything at the moment. >exit But you aren't in anything at the moment. >e You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x limbs You can't see any such thing. >x limb You can't see any such thing. >put ink on cloak What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >e You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >put ink in cup That can't contain things. >put ink on cup What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >put ink on beggar What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >put ink on head Putting things on your head would achieve nothing. >put ink on leg Which do you mean, the right leg or the left leg? >right Putting things on the right leg would achieve nothing. >put ink on arm Which do you mean, the right arm or the left arm? >right Putting things on the right arm would achieve nothing. >put ink on arm Which do you mean, the right arm or the left arm? >left Putting things on the left arm would achieve nothing. >l Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. >x up You see nothing unexpected in that direction. >x cup You see nothing special about the chipped enamel cup. >take cup That seems to belong to the bridge-sweeper. >ask beggar about cup "Oh, coins is just a hobby I took up to while away all the time I had, without a broom or a bridge to sweep in the first place. It's a simple enough game--would you like to play coins with me?" >w You can't go that way. >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >hint That's not a verb I recognize. >help That's not a verb I recognize. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >take weevil You extract the wriggling parasite and crush it swiftly under your foot. The woman on the divan does not awaken, but gives a sigh and visibly relaxes. At once a delicate lilac-scented cloud emerges from the wound in her head, in which there appears to be a vaguely outlined image. >take cloud That's hardly portable. >x cloud The shape in the fragrant mist at first looks like no more than a jumbled mass of lines. But when you shift to look at it from a different angle, it suddenly resolves itself into the architectural outlines of a bridge, like a tracing just waiting to be inked in. >take it That's hardly portable. >serach it That's not a verb I recognize. >ask woman about bridge There is no reply. >l Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. Above her head floats a cloud of insubstantial lines. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >e Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >n Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >x bridge You can't see any such thing. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. The street ends in what surely ought to be a bridge over the dark waters of a canal, but it seems to be missing. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >x bridge The arched stone span appears to have collapsed, leaving only the broken teeth of its pilings jutting up through the glassy water below. >x water You can't see any such thing. >e And just how do propose to do that, with no bridge to cross on? >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. Above her head floats a cloud of insubstantial lines. >use ink (using a quill from the drafting table) Feeling a bit silly, you trace the bridge design with the atramentum you purchased. And yet, its bluish-black liquid seems to soak into the lines already laid down as if into a sponge! Within moments the ink is spreading out from the lines into the image itself, drying to a stony brown as the bridge assumes an almost photographic reality. Just as this process seems to be complete, the whole bridge dims and vanishes. As it fades, you notice a new dream emerging from the puncture in the Dreamer's temple. >x dream At the end of an unspooling thread, a darkly translucent bowler hat has emerged and inflated like a balloon. Now it hangs in the air above the Dream Architect, drifting one way, then another, but still anchored somewhere within her head. >use ink You enjoy sketching some amusing figments in the air, which promptly some to life and dance off on the breeze. >x dream At the end of an unspooling thread, a darkly translucent bowler hat has emerged and inflated like a balloon. Now it hangs in the air above the Dream Architect, drifting one way, then another, but still anchored somewhere within her head. >use ink You enjoy sketching some amusing figments in the air, which promptly some to life and dance off on the breeze. >cut thread Holding the thread firmly in one hand, you snip it off as close to the hat as possible. At once, the thread slips through your fingers and retracts speedily back into the Dreamer's head. Simultaneously, the hat becomes quite tangible and felty in your hands. You watch for a moment, but no further dreams seems to be forthcoming. >wear hat At once you feel a tingling sensation in your scalp, as if countless root tendrils had just grown down into your brain. >s You can't go that way. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >e You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. >e You climb a sloping lane between once-grand houses whose gaudy colors have faded to gray shadows, their windows missing and moldings fallen. Now and then you glance a face or movement, but it soon vanishes from sight. Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >ne You step into a warm dimness. Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. A broom stands in one corner beside an empty hat rack. >take broom Taken. >x it A serviceably sturdy straw broom, its handle about the length of one of your legs. >wear it Both possible locations for that appendage already seem to be occupied. >remove right leg Pop. Well look at that, it comes right off! >wear broom You put on the broom. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >l Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >s (with a sweeping bounce) Storage Room A small room with a close, woolly atmosphere. A crystal garment safe stands just within the wall's curve. Its door is closed. Inside it are a Clock Smock, a West Vest, a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves, and a Gown Chair. >open safe (first unlocking the garment safe) You lack a key that fits the garment safe. >take all Clock Smock: The garment safe isn't open. West Vest: The garment safe isn't open. Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves: The garment safe isn't open. Gown Chair: The garment safe isn't open. >n (with a sweeping bounce) Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >e Your footsteps fall silent and springy on the felt floor. (with a sweeping bounce) Felt Factory A vast and darkened factory floor the size of a warehouse. The shapes of great soft machines loom before you in the shadows, but dust clinging to every felted surface betrays that workers have not bustled here for quite some time. A light is on in an elevated workshop however, accessible by a nearby wrought iron staircase. The door you came in by is back through the western passage. >take all There are none at all available! >u (with a sweeping bounce) Workshop Here a dozen bowler-hatted workers bend over tables and small looms crafting garments of curious proportions. Restlessly striding about the room is a man with the vibrantly feathered head of a lorikeet, a bowler hat fitted down atop his gem-green feathers and a pipe clutched in the corner of his beak. >x man The bird-headed man fluffs his cheeks and looks you up and down, puffing critically on his pipe. "Well, you must be the new errand-runner I begged the Expert for, months ago. Nice of you to finally join us! I'm the Sartorial Engineer, head of the Hat Vault and your new boss. Now listen, ages ago I commissioned a propeller from a geometric lecturer over in Night Town, and I've finally got a design that should get us around the time problem there. I hope you're up to the job." He hands you a crystal key. "You'll need the Clock Smock from the safe downstairs. Now take very good care of it; it took quite a lot of fine stitches in time to get it just right." He turns at once back to his work, and you suppose you are dismissed. >d (with a sweeping bounce) Felt Factory A vast and darkened factory floor the size of a warehouse. The shapes of great soft machines loom before you in the shadows, but dust clinging to every felted surface betrays that workers have not bustled here for quite some time. A light is on in an elevated workshop however, accessible by a nearby wrought iron staircase. The door you came in by is back through the western passage. >w (with a sweeping bounce) Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >s (with a sweeping bounce) Storage Room A small room with a close, woolly atmosphere. A crystal garment safe stands just within the wall's curve. Its door is closed. Inside it are a Clock Smock, a West Vest, a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves, and a Gown Chair. >open safe (first unlocking the garment safe) (with the crystal key) You open the garment safe. >take all Clock Smock: Taken. West Vest: Taken. Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves: Taken. Gown Chair: Taken. >x smock A garment of some stiff fabric. Gears spin and click, and somewhere inside its folds a pendulum swings. The front of the smock has hands like a clock, which swing drunkenly, seeming to indicate it is no particular time here. >wear it You put on the Clock Smock. >x vest You see nothing special about the West Vest. >wear it Your current outfit is much too bulky to don any additional garments, however aesthetically pleasing you might judge the combination to be. >x suit You see nothing special about the Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves. >wear it Your current outfit is much too bulky to don any additional garments, however aesthetically pleasing you might judge the combination to be. >x chair You see nothing special about the Gown Chair. >wear it Your current outfit is much too bulky to don any additional garments, however aesthetically pleasing you might judge the combination to be. >sit on it That's not something you can sit down on. >l Storage Room A small room with a close, woolly atmosphere. A crystal garment safe stands just within the wall's curve. Its door is open. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a broom (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >n (with a sweeping bounce) Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >w You can't go that way. >sw (with a sweeping bounce) Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >n You wander through the slums until you come to a cliffside overlook, where you have an unobstructed view of the mangrove swamp north of the city. The canal through the city seems to originate down there somewhere, and the whole forest looks flooded from here. After you've had your fill of the scenery, you trudge back up the hill to the empty court surrounding the Hat Vault. >e You wander for a time in the slums, but see and learn nothing particularly edifying. You eventually find yourself back atop the hill, in the empty court surrounding the Hat Vault. >se You can't go that way. >s You wander for a time in the slums, but see and learn nothing particularly edifying. You eventually find yourself back atop the hill, in the empty court surrounding the Hat Vault. >sw You can't go that way. >nw You can't go that way. >w (with a sweeping bounce) Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. >w (with a sweeping bounce) Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >w You can't go that way. >s (with a sweeping bounce) Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w (with a sweeping bounce) Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >w You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >n (with a sweeping bounce) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. (with a sweeping bounce) Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. (with a sweeping bounce) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >s (with a sweeping bounce) Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion (with a sweeping bounce) Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >x woman The woman in a black evening gown with handmade black lace trim rests upon the couch in a deep sleep, possibly even a coma. Her fingers are ink-stained, and at first you think her face has been draped in garlands of flowers. But on closer inspection, you see that her head itself is entirely composed of blossoms, her bright sweetpea lips strung between two rosy cheeks, the closed moonflowers of her eyes beneath a smooth and creamy calla lily forehead, and the dark monkshood of her hair gathered up in coils atop her head. The beauty of her face is marred by a wound, a dark stain on one magnolia temple. >x stain A large weevil of some sort seems to have lodged itself deep into her brain. How appalling! >take weevil You can't see any such thing. >ask woman about night town There is no reply. >ask woman about expert "The Expert has always been the one to put any problems to rights, and I fear the worst. Please go to the Tower where she lives, in the old North End of the city; I'm not well enough yet myself, but I can tell you a trick to getting through that mazy slum." She explains to you how to navigate the northern alleys to reach the Corinthian Tower. "Find out what the matter is and bring me word, and together we will consider what is to be done." >out (with a sweeping bounce) Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n (with a sweeping bounce) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >ne (with a sweeping bounce) Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >n (with a sweeping bounce) Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >w (with a sweeping bounce) North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and southeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, north, and east, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >s You head off down the alley that is closest to your intended direction, or at least your best guess at it. North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, south, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >e (with a sweeping bounce) With a little luck you manage to find your way back to the canal. You take some deep breaths, glad to have a respite from the claustrophobic confines of the city slums. Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s (with a sweeping bounce) Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >s (with a sweeping bounce) Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w (with a sweeping bounce) Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n (with a sweeping bounce) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >wear cloak (first taking the market cloak) Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a chartreuse book. A tall genial woman wanders about the maze-like folds and crannies of the market cloak, giving each person who passes an appraising glance. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >remove it You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >i Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a broom (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x clock A garment of some stiff fabric. Gears spin and click, and somewhere inside its folds a pendulum swings. The front of the smock has hands like a clock, which swing drunkenly, seeming to indicate it is no particular time here. >move clock Nothing obvious happens. >turn clock Nothing obvious happens. >search it You find nothing of interest. >n You can't go that way. >e You can't go that way. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. (with a sweeping bounce) Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >x clock A garment of some stiff fabric. Gears spin and click, and somewhere inside its folds a pendulum swings. The front of the smock has hands like a clock, indicating it is just after two o'clock; below the hands is a little sunface. >x sunface You can only assume that the enameled smiling sun, designed to swing around on a pin, indicates that the smock's time must refer to the early afternoon. It looks like it could be reversed by giving it a little push, like a button. >push it The sun face spins around, revealing a moon face. With the dramatic sweep of a stage curtain closing, night falls around you. Apruptly, dancers in vibrant costumes and ostentatiously glittering masks are whirling all about, jostling and bustling you as you try to regain your bearings. Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. A ladder leans against one building, allowing access up to a balcony crowded with music and motion. >u (with a sweeping bounce) Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >x band They are playing with real gusto, and seem unperturbed by the tight confines. The drum major even finds space for a rather avant garde baton-twirling act. >x major Wait, hold on... that's not a baton he's spinning, it's a bladed propeller of some sort! Surely that goes a bit beyond avant garde. >ask major about propeller The drum major glances at you briefly. "Hang on -- we're actually short a flugelhorn at the moment. Any chance you could step in and help us out until our regular gets back? Please say yes!" >yes Someone hands you a fancy looking trumpet, which has some music helpfully clipped atop it. You hit several false notes before you start to get a feel for the instrument -- getting you some dirty looks from your neighbors -- but you're startled how comfortable it is and in what seems like no time you're into the swing of things and really enjoying yourself. You're almost disappointed when a woman in the band's garish costume finally clambers up the ladder and gestures for her instrument back. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a broom (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >ask major about propeller The drum major glances at you briefly. "The lecturer said nobody was using it and she didn't want to juggle it, so she gave it to me. If you want it, I'll just need something else that's long and flips end over end nicely. You have something like that, I'm open to a trade. The weirder the better, I like a challenge!" He never once misses a beat in his impressive aerial display during his reply. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a broom (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give chair (to the drum major) He simply shakes his head, indicating that it is not a satisfactory substitute. >give suit (to the drum major) He simply shakes his head, indicating that it is not a satisfactory substitute. >give vest (to the drum major) He simply shakes his head, indicating that it is not a satisfactory substitute. >remove broom You take off the broom. >give broom (to the drum major) He nods curtly in acceptance and with a deft flip he transfers his makeshift baton to you as you are tossing the profferred substitute to him. >wear leg Which do you mean, the right leg or the left leg? >right You put on the right leg. >x propeller It's a propeller like that of a small boat engine. It looks precisely like what the Sartorial Engineer sent you to fetch. >l Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >d Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. A ladder leans against one building, allowing access up to a balcony crowded with music and motion. >e You can't go that way. >u Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >w Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >x candles You can't see any such thing. >x lecturer As you draw closer, you see that while she addresses her audience, she is juggling an octahedron, a regular hexahedron, a tetrahedron, and a sphere: these airborne subjects of her talk seem to form a perfect arch above her while her arms mill in ceaseless motion. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give ecru (to the lecturer) Her stern glance warns you off this puckish attempt to interrupt her lecture. >give zaffre (to the lecturer) Her stern glance warns you off this puckish attempt to interrupt her lecture. >give gamboge (to the lecturer) Her stern glance warns you off this puckish attempt to interrupt her lecture. >l Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >x lecturer As you draw closer, you see that while she addresses her audience, she is juggling an octahedron, a regular hexahedron, a tetrahedron, and a sphere: these airborne subjects of her talk seem to form a perfect arch above her while her arms mill in ceaseless motion. >x octahedron It's a theoretical object with eight faces composed of a rigid indefinite substance. There's something curious about her juggling, the way the objects sometimes grow less blurry and seem truly fixed in the air, as if you could simply climb right up them. It appears to be an effect of her hypnotically symmetrical method, but you'd have to ask her about it to be sure. >ask lecturer about objects The lecturer is too occupied with her subject matter to attend to your questions just now. >ask lecturer about juggling "You know, I could use a couple more polyhedra to elucidate the peculiar characteristics of the more complex topologies. Would you mind fetching them for me from the vendor down in the plaza? This should cover it." She deftly produces a poetry book from somewhere, and tosses it to you out of the midst of her constantly moving montage. >w The walls, floor, and ceiling of the passage--reddish wood heavily varnished--are filled with wavering reflections as you descend creaking steps into the dimness. The funereal scent of incense wells up around you. Archway At the foot of the staircase is a stone archway with a wide brass bell hung at its apex. Both sides of the arch are decorated in macabre fashion with numerous skeletal arms, hanging down like withered branches. Beyond the archway to the west you can dimly make out a small, alcove-like crypt. Sounds of the party in the salon can be faintly heard echoing down the stairs just to the east. >x arms You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >w As you step under the arch, the bell suddenly lets out a brassy clangor and the skeletal arms on boths sides leap abruptly to life, seizing hold of you. Panicked, you struggle and squirm and finally manage to stumble backwards out of their grip. >l Archway At the foot of the staircase is a stone archway with a wide brass bell hung at its apex. Both sides of the arch are decorated in macabre fashion with numerous skeletal arms, hanging down like withered branches. Beyond the archway to the west you can dimly make out a small, alcove-like crypt. Sounds of the party in the salon can be faintly heard echoing down the stairs just to the east. >d You can't go that way. >e Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >d Archway At the foot of the staircase is a stone archway with a wide brass bell hung at its apex. Both sides of the arch are decorated in macabre fashion with numerous skeletal arms, hanging down like withered branches. Beyond the archway to the west you can dimly make out a small, alcove-like crypt. Sounds of the party in the salon can be faintly heard echoing down the stairs just to the east. >e Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >e Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >d Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. A ladder leans against one building, allowing access up to a balcony crowded with music and motion. >out But you aren't in anything at the moment. >talk to vendor That's not a verb I recognize. >x vendor A burly, bearded man in suit and tails is doing a brisk business in masks, snacks, and various, mostly festive, trinkets. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a left arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x cerulean Nostalgia My cat is perfectly content lolling on the couch or watching the cars rush past her window in the rain. She did not petition me, full of nostalgia, for a return trip to the barn where she was born to see if she still remembers her matted, overworked mother, the chuckling hens, the scent of ancient hay, the distant lowing of cows. Yet here I am, distinctly teary-eyed. >give it to vendor "No, no, I'm not selling anything to you for less than an actual arm or a leg." >remove left arm You take off the left arm. >give it to vendor (somewhat clumsily) The vendor is startled almost speechless. He stares with bafflement at your proffered payment, then throws back his head and laughs. "All right, all right. You may not be dressed for it but you belong here, sure enough. Here, take these, and go have yourself a good time with them if you can." He hands you the pair of geometric baubles you were eyeing. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) an icosahedron a dodecahedron a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >wear vest (somewhat clumsily) Your current outfit is much too bulky to don any additional garments, however aesthetically pleasing you might judge the combination to be. >u Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >w Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) an icosahedron a dodecahedron a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >ive icosahedron to lecturer That's not a verb I recognize. >give icosahedron to lecturer (somewhat clumsily) "Excellent!" she exclaims as her juggling arc rises higher. "Now the last one!" >give dodecahedron to lecturer (somewhat clumsily) "Perfect," she smiles proudly. "Now see here, everyone: once all of the Platonic solids are in the air, they form a remarkable resonance structure. You there," she juts her chin at you. "As you've been so helpful, perhaps you could conclude by demonstrating this little trick for my seminar. Just go on up to this roof behind me, won't you?" >u Miraculously, the way the geometric figures hang in the air is now far more than illusion. You find their perfectly symmetrical arch reaching to the open roof above is as fixed as stone, and with a little focus you scamper up the juggled objects as if they were a perfectly solid staircase. Starlit Roof The noise and bustle down below seems muted by the swaddling dark up here. Yet the night is drizzled with stars, which rain their shining light down in occasional drips and and gobbets from the sky. There are perhaps a dozen other people up here already, all raptly gazing up while wandering about in a seemingly aimless fashion. >x people Pausing to watch them, you realize at once that their movements aren't aimless at all: they are in fact trying to catch the light rain of celestial pablum on their tongues. >catch rain It takes some time to get the hang of it and even then it takes a bit of luck, but you finally catch a shining drip on your tongue. It tastes of soul-searing clarity, washed away in an instant by eons of distance and oblivion. You are left with an intense longing for more, even though you already can't remember quite what it was like. >catch rain It takes some time to get the hang of it and even then it takes a bit of luck, but you finally catch a shining drip on your tongue. It tastes of soul-searing clarity, washed away in an instant by eons of distance and oblivion. You are left with an intense longing for more, even though you already can't remember quite what it was like. >catch rain It takes some time to get the hang of it and even then it takes a bit of luck, but you finally catch a shining drip on your tongue. It tastes of soul-searing clarity, washed away in an instant by eons of distance and oblivion. You are left with an intense longing for more, even though you already can't remember quite what it was like. >catch rain It takes some time to get the hang of it and even then it takes a bit of luck, but you finally catch a shining drip on your tongue. It tastes of soul-searing clarity, washed away in an instant by eons of distance and oblivion. You are left with an intense longing for more, even though you already can't remember quite what it was like. >l Starlit Roof The noise and bustle down below seems muted by the swaddling dark up here. Yet the night is drizzled with stars, which rain their shining light down in occasional drips and and gobbets from the sky. There are perhaps a dozen other people up here already, all raptly gazing up while wandering about in a seemingly aimless fashion. >x stars The stars seem not so remote as you were somehow expecting, more like little trompe l'oeil holes painted on the underside of a great nocturnal basilica--but with a paint so dazzling that it has now melted and drips this celestial pablum down upon its congregants. >x people Pausing to watch them, you realize at once that their movements aren't aimless at all: they are in fact trying to catch the light rain of celestial pablum on their tongues. >x rain A light rain is falling, in ethereal gleaming drops at unpredictable intervals. >d You step carefully down the staircase of geometric solids, thanking the lecturer for the profoundly educational experience. Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >x lecturer As you draw closer, you see that while she addresses her audience, she is juggling a dodecahedron, an icosahedron, an octahedron, a regular hexahedron, a tetrahedron, and a sphere: these airborne subjects of her talk seem to form a perfect arch above her while her arms mill in ceaseless motion. >e Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >d Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. A ladder leans against one building, allowing access up to a balcony crowded with music and motion. >x vendor A burly, bearded man in suit and tails is doing a brisk business in masks, snacks, and various, mostly festive, trinkets. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >remove right leg (somewhat clumsily) You take off the right leg. >give it to vendor (somewhat clumsily) No, no, find someone else to be the subject of your ridiculous version of haggling. The rest of my wares are for the party-goers." >take arm (the right arm) (somewhat clumsily) You already have that. >take all ladder: (somewhat clumsily) Taken. left arm: (somewhat clumsily) There is no reply. >wear left arm (somewhat clumsily) (first taking the left arm) (somewhat clumsily) >wear right leg (somewhat clumsily) You put on the right leg. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a ladder a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x left arm You see nothing special about the left arm. >take it (somewhat clumsily) There is no reply. >wear it (somewhat clumsily) (first taking the left arm) (somewhat clumsily) >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a ladder a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >ask vendor about left arm There is no reply. >ask vendor about arm There is no reply. >e You can't go that way. >l Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. >out But you aren't in anything at the moment. >push sunface You can't see any such thing. >x smock A garment of some stiff fabric. Gears spin and click, and somewhere inside its folds a pendulum swings. The front of the smock has hands like a clock, indicating it is just after two o'clock; below the hands is a little moonface. >push moonface The moonface spins around, revealing a sunface. With soft implacable force, daylight scrapes away the night, and you are suddenly alone once more in the deserted plaza. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a ladder a bladed propeller a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) > I beg your pardon? >l Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >e You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A few curious pedestrians are crossing from the hilly city to explore the long severed western section of the island. >e Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >se You can't go that way. >ne Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >e Felt Factory A vast and darkened factory floor the size of a warehouse. The shapes of great soft machines loom before you in the shadows, but dust clinging to every felted surface betrays that workers have not bustled here for quite some time. A light is on in an elevated workshop however, accessible by a nearby wrought iron staircase. The door you came in by is back through the western passage. >u Workshop Here a dozen bowler-hatted workers bend over tables and small looms crafting garments of curious proportions. Restlessly striding about the room is a man with the vibrantly feathered head of a lorikeet, a bowler hat fitted down atop his gem-green feathers and a pipe clutched in the corner of his beak. >give propellar to man You can't see any such thing. >give propeller to man (somewhat clumsily) "Fantastic!" the colorfully-feathered Engineer exclaims, turning to his busy workers. "We have the propeller -- soon you'll all be getting your back wages!" A cheer goes up around the workshop, and several of the workers actually come over and shake your hand enthusiastically. They sober quickly, however, and join their boss in stitching and riveting the propeller to a project that had lain abandoned to one side. After a little while they stand back, and the Sartorial Engineer holds up a long coat with gracefully sweeping curves, a compact backpack, and a lovely prow in front. "Here you are," he says, giving you the garment. "I shouldn't have to tell you how important this is. Your next errand is to get over to the island and get me the latest edition of the Industrial Handbook, so we can turn out duplicates of this prototype and restore regular commerce on the mainland." >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x boat coat You see nothing special about the Boat Coat. >wear it (somewhat clumsily) Your current outfit is much too bulky to don any additional garments, however aesthetically pleasing you might judge the combination to be. >remove clock (somewhat clumsily) You take off the Clock Smock. >wear coat (somewhat clumsily) You put on the Boat Coat. >i Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x coat You see nothing special about the Boat Coat. >l Workshop Here a dozen bowler-hatted workers bend over tables and small looms crafting garments of curious proportions. Restlessly striding about the room is a man with the vibrantly feathered head of a lorikeet, a bowler hat fitted down atop his gem-green feathers and a pipe clutched in the corner of his beak. >w You can't go that way. >d Felt Factory A vast and darkened factory floor the size of a warehouse. The shapes of great soft machines loom before you in the shadows, but dust clinging to every felted surface betrays that workers have not bustled here for quite some time. A light is on in an elevated workshop however, accessible by a nearby wrought iron staircase. The door you came in by is back through the western passage. >w Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >nw You can't go that way. >sw Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >w Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A few curious pedestrians are crossing from the hilly city to explore the long severed western section of the island. >w Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >w You can't go that way. >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >w North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the northwest, north, and southeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with a door at its foot. >play sunbeams (somewhat clumsily) Under your fingers the beams have a buzzy vibration to them, and when plucked fill the glade with a resonant effervescence. After a little experimentation, you settle into a comfortable two-handed position, try a few arpeggios, then dive into an improvisational bagatelle. Your solar music floats into the air with the aroma of bread baking over hot coals, and a number of birds gather in the branches above to bask in its glow. Across the stretch of lawn to the north, the tower door creaks open. >n Tower Floor The ground floor of the tower is spare, with only a few hooks on the wall for theoretical hats or cloaks, and a round, plain rug on the floor. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The tower door, perfectly conventional from this side, leads south out of the tower. Sitting on the rug is a curious white and orange cat--long-haired, with its fur sticking out to its extremities and crackling with electricity. "Welcome to the Corinthian Tower." The cat's laconic tone does not match how carefully it seems to be eyeing you. "I'm afraid we're not up to our usual standards due to the main resident being indisposed, so if you've come looking for help, I'm afraid you're out of luck." >x cat Blue-lavender arcs crackle across its fur, which also frequently emits golden sparks. Its whiskers quiver and it looks at you expectantly. >sak cat about expert That's not a verb I recognize. >o ask Sorry, that can't be corrected. >ask cat about expert "She's been like this for some time, I'm afraid. She'd been growing slower and more forgetful for a while, and I noticed her leaves had begun to fall. But then one morning she just didn't get up, and she no longer even responded when I sharpened my claws on the quilt. I still cuddle with her on a regular basis, but it doesn't seem to help. I don't know what else to do." >u Tower Workroom A busy, cluttered workroom. On one set of tables are what to your unpracticed eye appear to be alchemical arrays, while the other seems to be dominated by tools of celestial investigation. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. "This was the workroom, once upon a time. I'm afraid it's a bit of a mess, partly because the Expert never tidied it up much in the first place, and partly because our few visitors musically-talented enough to get in have often felt compelled to take a souvenir from here before they left." >u Tower Living Room A cozy living area, complete with kitchen, dining area, and some more comfortable seating, all lit by many wide windows high on the wall. A number of pictures hang on the wall, both paintings and photographs. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. "I would like to draw your attention to some of the fine cushions we have on this floor, which I have carefully arranged so one is always fully in a sunbeam." >u Turret Bedroom A room hung with curtains, giving it a warm and cozy feel. At its center is a four-poster bed. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the tower roof. The shrunken form of an elderly woman with a head of deeply weathered wood lies on the bed, moaning softly. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. "And here we are. Sorry, I know you were probably still holding out hope." >x woman On her pillow lies a corona of withered dry leaves, like a halo of mortality. >x corona You can't see any such thing. >x leaves You can't see any such thing. >x halo You can't see any such thing. >x pillow You can't see any such thing. >x head Apart from some minor cosmetic quibbles, you've always felt it was perfectly serviceable. >take woman (somewhat clumsily) The cat jumps onto the bed, and tenderly sniffs its old master lying in your arms. The body, light and still now as dry kindling, shows no response; even the moaning breaths have gone. "Yes, it's time," the cat sighs. "She was a good master, but I think that now you'd better do what seems right. I will wait in the tower for your return. I am willing to stay on as your tutor, though we'll have to discuss terms when you get back." >o Sorry, that can't be corrected. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x fate You've seen for yourself that the Expert is on death's doorstep, and will never resume her crucial role. It's imperative that you tell the Dream Architect the truth about this as soon as possible. >d Tower Living Room A cozy living area, complete with kitchen, dining area, and some more comfortable seating, all lit by many wide windows high on the wall. A number of pictures hang on the wall, both paintings and photographs. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >d Tower Workroom A busy, cluttered workroom. On one set of tables are what to your unpracticed eye appear to be alchemical arrays, while the other seems to be dominated by tools of celestial investigation. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >d Tower Floor The ground floor of the tower is spare, with only a few hooks on the wall for theoretical hats or cloaks, and a round, plain rug on the floor. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The tower door, perfectly conventional from this side, leads south out of the tower. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >s Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with an open door at its foot. >s You can't go that way. >w You can't go that way. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, south, and southeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >e With a little luck you manage to find your way back to the canal. You take some deep breaths, glad to have a respite from the claustrophobic confines of the city slums. Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >enter pavilion Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >tell woman about expert (the Dream Architect about that) After leaning forward to take in your report, she sinks back now against the couch. "I've long feared this day, but the time has come. We need a new Expert." Then her delicately petaled lips purse with a new thought. "I must say though, you've proved yourself eminently qualified for the job! I realize it's quite a lot to ask, but if you're willing to accept that responsibility, go to Book Island and speak to the Book Farmer about the seedling he has been cultivating in his greenhouse. He can do everything necessary for your initiation." >ask woman about island (the Dream Architect about that) There is no reply. >l Gauzebo Though the structural material of the place looked flimsy at a distance, its walls support bookshelves, dark mirrors, detailed reference posters for chiromancers and neuroanatomists, and structural blueprints tacked up on corkboard. The draped ceiling appears to be decorated with a thorough diagram tracking the planets through the zodiac. A large spiral-woven rug covers the floor beneath an upright drafting table and is partly obscured by a pile of unopened letters. Opposite the door is a reclining couch, upon which lies the Dream Architect. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >w You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >out Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >e You can't go that way. >se Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >e You can't go that way. >n Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >e You can't go that way. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >s You've got the coat for it, but you're a bit high up to launch from here. >d You can't go that way. >s You've got the coat for it, but you're a bit high up to launch from here. >sw You can't go that way. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >s You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >e Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >w You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >sw You can't go that way. >se You can't go that way. >s You walk for a time along the cliffs, gazing out to sea. You wonder if you will ever return home, or if this is your home now. >ne You can't go that way. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >e You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >n You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >e Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >sw You can't go that way. >w Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >d The coat's side panels extend down and scoop under you, coming together in a watertight seal. Meanwhile, the propeller backpack is pulled smoothly down into the water, tilting you back at a gentle reclining angle. The blades begin a gentle purr, and you glide smoothly out onto the water. Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >s South Canal The canal passes by a weathered old wharf and loading crane here, where it opens into the bay. To the south lies an island plantation, while the bridge is just visible to the north. >s You find a landing dock and climb up, the boat coat folding back into dormancy as you proceed onto land. Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >x farmer He is wearing an unbleached linen work shirt and blue coveralls with large, baggy pockets and dirty knees. His head does indeed appear to be an old-fashioned manual typewriter. At your approach he straightens up and places his pouch of seeds in one pocket, and clips his pen into a chest pocket. He assesses you with what feels like 50-odd small eyes in his keyboard, then the typebars suddenly start clacking, and with a carriage return a small card emerges from the top, which he hands to you. It reads, "Welcome to Novalis Opus. I am the Book Farmer. Are you looking for work?" >yes You agree to labor in the book fields for a while, and are offered a weeding fork, a ballpoint, and eraser. Unsure what to with the latter two, you take the long-handled fork and focus on extirpating as much as you can of the purple weed the Farmer points out to you. You find the work has an oddly energizing and satisfying quality, and you soon lose yourself in it completely. At some point, you realize with a start that you've been laboring for hours. Retreating to the shade with some other workers on break, they offer you a small poetry chapbook from a basket of fresh fruit. >take book (the Book Farmer) (somewhat clumsily) Several of the workers run toward you, waving their tools. "Don't pick that, it's not ready yet! If you want some produce, you'll have to earn it like the rest of us. Just talk to the Book Farmer over there." They gesture toward the typewriter-headed man planting in the bare patch. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a malachite book a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >read malachite The Longing The snow falling thick and wet today has entirely obscured the hill behind my house where nearly every day I walk, watching buds emerge, wood frogs sing, berries ripen, leaves wither and blow. Tomorrow, I will attempt to decipher the winter hieroglyphics of the forest's countless invisible comings and goings. But for now, how curiously pleasant it is over a hot mug of tea to be unable to see my favorite patch of woods. >l Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >x farmer He is wearing an unbleached linen work shirt and blue coveralls with large, baggy pockets and dirty knees. His head does indeed appear to be an old-fashioned manual typewriter. >x crops There is an extraordinary variety of crops, yet all their produce is some type of book. Just strolling about nearby, you notice a glossy bush festooned with some rather spicy-looking romances. >x fork You see nothing special about the weeding fork. >x bush You can't see any such thing. >x typewriter He is wearing an unbleached linen work shirt and blue coveralls with large, baggy pockets and dirty knees. His head does indeed appear to be an old-fashioned manual typewriter. >use it (somewhat clumsily) >l Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >l Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >x greenhouse You peer in through the glass of the greenhouse to see tables of seedlings, and some potted plants bearing the farm's typical fruit--presumably varieties requiring more specific conditions. There are also two particularly large pots in one corner with even more peculiar-looking shrubs. You try the door, but find it locked. >x workers Some of the locals seem to be employed on the farm, helping out with the regular work of the place. Some are thinning a row of feathery stems to give the skinny volumes, their tops just visible above the dirt, room to expand. Others are watering, or weeding, or pruning, and a few are picking and arranging the ripe produce on the shelves of specially designed wheel-barrows. >x pots One is a small woody plant with feathery fern-like leaves, growing in shredded pages instead of soil. The other pot holds a bulging book almost as thick as it is wide, with a tall spreading canopy of convoluted branchlets. Just above the soil, the word "Industrial" can be read along the top edge of its massive root. >take it (somewhat clumsily) Several of the workers run toward you, waving their tools. "Don't pick that, it's not ready yet! If you want some produce, you'll have to earn it like the rest of us. Just talk to the Book Farmer over there." They gesture toward the typewriter-headed man planting in the bare patch. >work That's not a verb I recognize. >ask farmer What do you want to ask the Book Farmer for? >book Which do you mean, the Book Farmer, the malachite book, the cerulean book, the bronze book, the gamboge book, the zaffre book, or the ecru book? >farmer (the Book Farmer first taking the Book Farmer) The Book Farmer has better things to do. >ask farmer about greenhouse The Book Farmer saunters over to the greenhouse, gesturing for you to follow. Unlocking the door, he proceeds inside, his head firing up a comment for you. clataclackitackitatackity clackclickitytacktack ticktackita brrrp ding The card reads, "Besides a nursery, this greenhouse is also a safe place to keep our most valuable crops, such as certain powerful medicinal plants, or that unique cutting I've been tending to for the Expert for a while now. I also have this heavy tome for the Engineer, if you'd be willing to deliver it for me. He's probably desperate for it by now." The Farmer uproots a hefty looking book from a pot and gives it to you. >ask farmer about expert clatickatackclackity ticktwackaclick clatackitatackitatickity brrrp ding The card reads, "Our Ancient Expert is responsible for watching over our beloved city from the Corinthian Tower. The Expert has always been quick to resolve any disputes and other problems that arise, but she has not been seen abroad for some time, and I'm afraid things have started to go rather badly on the mainland without her. >tell farmer about expert This provokes no reaction. >tell farmer about architect This provokes no reaction. >ask farmer about architect There is no reply. >w You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >out You're already out in the open air, all of Book Island spread before you, which is about the most rural place you've seen here so far. >l Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >d You can't go that way. >u You can't go that way. >x earth You can't see any such thing. >x patch Coming a little closer, you see the peculiar farmer is poking seeds into the ground one at a time with what appears to be a fountain pen. >x pen You can't see any such thing. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) an industrial handbook a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >read handbook "Be sure to determine process capability before statistical control has been established, using the common cause variation. As characteristic fluctuations are highly sensitive to abnormal capability distributions, data transformation may be necessary to stabilize the causation predictability index in order to approximate normality." It almost feels like you could grasp this material, if you knew what it was talking about. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) an industrial handbook a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give expert to farmer (somewhat clumsily) tackclackity twackatick clatackitickity brrrp ding The card reads, "No, no, you keep that for now. If I need something from you, I'll ask." >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) an industrial handbook a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >l Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >x crops There is an extraordinary variety of crops, yet all their produce is some type of book. Just strolling about nearby, you notice bushy brassicas, veined pages swelling up from within. >x brassicas You can't see any such thing. >ask farmer about greenhouse clickaclack-tatackity ticktwackaclick ticktackita brrrp ding The card reads "Ah, you've come about the Seedling of Knowledge, haven't you? I thought when we first met that you might be back--you've more than a little of the Expert about you, you know." >ask farmer about seedling tacktackityclack clickaclatackity clikatiktackaclackaclack brrrp ding The card reads, "The Expert requested some years ago that I propagate a personal cutting--looking to the future, as it were. This Seedling has grown slowly but steadily, fertilized with a strong regimen of insights and knowledge. It appears ready for transplant, and none too soon it would seem. "All I need for the procedure is a bit of pure liquid starlight. Bring me that, and all this knowledge will be yours! >ask farmer about seedling tacktackityclack clickaclatackity clikatiktackaclackaclack brrrp ding The card reads, "The Expert requested some years ago that I propagate a personal cutting--looking to the future, as it were. This Seedling has grown slowly but steadily, fertilized with a strong regimen of insights and knowledge. It appears ready for transplant, and none too soon it would seem. "All I need for the procedure is a bit of pure liquid starlight. Bring me that, and all this knowledge will be yours! >ask farmer about starlight There is no reply. >l Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >n South Canal The canal passes by a weathered old wharf and loading crane here, where it opens into the bay. To the south lies an island plantation, while the bridge is just visible to the north. >n Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >u Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >w Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >x fellow You can't see any such thing. >x beggar He is remarkably dirty for a man sitting beside a canal. >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) an industrial handbook a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >e You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >e Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >ne Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >e Felt Factory A vast and darkened factory floor the size of a warehouse. The shapes of great soft machines loom before you in the shadows, but dust clinging to every felted surface betrays that workers have not bustled here for quite some time. A light is on in an elevated workshop however, accessible by a nearby wrought iron staircase. The door you came in by is back through the western passage. >u Workshop Here a dozen bowler-hatted workers bend over tables and small looms crafting garments of curious proportions. Restlessly striding about the room is a man with the vibrantly feathered head of a lorikeet, a bowler hat fitted down atop his gem-green feathers and a pipe clutched in the corner of his beak. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) an industrial handbook a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give handbook (to the Sartorial Engineer) (somewhat clumsily) The Engineer siezes the book and rushes off. He bustles back a moment later though, as if belatedly remembering you. "Well, I guess the Expert wasn't wrong about you after all! You've done a fine job, so here are your wages. This will keep us busy for the time being." He hands you a poetry book, nods curtly, and returns to his work. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >read titian The Little Tailor of Summer Nights by Jason Harlow When the day's humidity has broken and the risen moon makes dew drops glisten like stars across the expanse of your lawn, a moth approaches the deck lamp outside your bedroom window, its wings aflutter casting shadows against the wall that form the very patterns from which dreams are sewn. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give ecru (to the Sartorial Engineer) (somewhat clumsily) He cocks a critical and beady eye. "No, that won't do at all." >x man The bird-headed boss flits from worker to worker, keeping up a steady stream of admonishments and suggestions on how to improve on a design. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) > I beg your pardon? >l Workshop Here a dozen bowler-hatted workers bend over tables and small looms crafting garments of curious proportions. Restlessly striding about the room is a man with the vibrantly feathered head of a lorikeet, a bowler hat fitted down atop his gem-green feathers and a pipe clutched in the corner of his beak. >d Felt Factory A vast and darkened factory floor the size of a warehouse. The shapes of great soft machines loom before you in the shadows, but dust clinging to every felted surface betrays that workers have not bustled here for quite some time. A light is on in an elevated workshop however, accessible by a nearby wrought iron staircase. The door you came in by is back through the western passage. >w Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >s Storage Room A small room with a close, woolly atmosphere. A crystal garment safe stands just within the wall's curve. Its door is open. >n Hat Vestibule The hat's curving outer wall defines a cozy, curving space. Sounds are muffled here, all echoes swallowed up by the structural felt. The door out to the plaza is to the southwest. There is a storage room just to the south, while a vaulting passage heads east, further into the hat. >sw Outside the Hat Vault At the top of the hill, the city withdraws as if in awe around a vast domed edifice. This factory-sized building at the plaza's center is in the shape of a gigantic bowler hat; unlike any other hat you've seen, however, it has a perfectly ordinary door above the brim, just to the northeast. >n You wander through the slums until you come to a cliffside overlook, where you have an unobstructed view of the mangrove swamp north of the city. The canal through the city seems to originate down there somewhere, and the whole forest looks flooded from here. After you've had your fill of the scenery, you trudge back up the hill to the empty court surrounding the Hat Vault. >w Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >w Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give fork (to the bridge-sweeper) (somewhat clumsily) He refuses, looking fairly embarrassed. "Really, I couldn't accept such charity." He gestures to the pedestrian traffic with a lop-sided, optimistic smile. "With people starting to cross the bridge again, I'll soon be able to earn my own living again." >wear fork (somewhat clumsily) Both possible locations for that appendage already seem to be occupied. >w You can't go that way. >s Wharf The park is bordered on this side by a wide canal, with a loading dock positioned just where the canal flows into a bay to the south. To the north can be seen what might be a bridge over the canal; to the northwest is a busy marketplace. An open park lies to the west. A pulpy mass of former books sits in a discolored pool of ink-stained water, a sad heap of soggy ruin. >w Park You are in a park, dotted with standing stones and spiral-branched trees. An ornate tower is visible in the distance to the north; a path heads in that direction. Picturesque seaside cliffs border the park to the south and west, while its eastern edge is marked by a wide canal. At the park's center is a translucent, gauzy pavilion. Nearby there is a shallow, oddly-shaped pit. Globes of a dull metallic grey lie here and there in the grass like fallen balloons. >n Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >wear cloak (somewhat clumsily) (first taking the market cloak) (somewhat clumsily) Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman wanders about the maze-like folds and crannies of the market cloak, giving each person who passes an appraising glance. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >x fellow His skin is wrinkled in a lacy pattern and he is bald as a pebble. He is holding an ethereal sieve. >x sive You can't see any such thing. >x sieve It looks like a simple metal sieve. The old fellow waggles the sieve temptingly. "Designed to strain the celestial pablum for undiluted liquid starlight. It's a steal at four poetry, if I say so myself." >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a market cloak (being worn) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >w (somewhat clumsily) You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x fountain At the fountain's center stands the sort of highbrow abstract sculpture you've never found particularly appealing. There is no water in the fountain, but the edge of the stone basin at least serves as a bench for the citizenry. At the moment, this only amounts to a single middle-aged shopper resting beside her basket of books. >x shopper The woman has dark, intelligent brows and wears a brightly patterned shawl. From her basket, it appears she has been shopping. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) a zaffre book (an alchemical encyclopedia) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give zaffre Whom do you want to give the zaffre book to? >woman Which do you mean, the guard, the shopper, or the Ancient Expert? >shopper (somewhat clumsily) You give the zaffre book to the shopper. >x expert Her withered body lies limp in your arms. She has gone completely still. >give vial to expert You can only do that to something animate. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >push sunface It wobbles under your finger; you'd have to be wearing the clock smock to get the proper leverage. >remove coat (somewhat clumsily) You take off the Boat Coat. >wear clock (somewhat clumsily) You put on the Clock Smock. >push sunface The sun face spins around, revealing a moon face. With the dramatic sweep of a stage curtain closing, night falls around you. Apruptly, dancers in vibrant costumes and ostentatiously glittering masks are whirling all about, jostling and bustling you as you try to regain your bearings. Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. >x vendor A burly, bearded man in suit and tails is doing a brisk business in masks, snacks, and various, mostly festive, trinkets. >ask vendor for poetry You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >ask vendor for book Which do you mean, the titian book, the malachite book, the cerulean book, the bronze book, the gamboge book, or the ecru book? >u I only understood you as far as wanting to ask the vendor for up. >u Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >x band They are playing with real gusto, and seem unperturbed by the tight confines. The drum major even finds space for a rather avant garde baton-twirling act. >x major Wait, hold on... that's not a baton he's spinning, it's a broom of some sort! Surely that goes a bit beyond avant garde. >ask major for broom The drum major glances at you briefly. "You know the deal. Give me something long that I can toss and flip, and I'll trade you for what I've got here." >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a weeding fork a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give fork (to the drum major) (somewhat clumsily) He nods curtly in acceptance and with a deft flip he transfers his makeshift baton to you as you are tossing the profferred substitute to him. >wear broom (somewhat clumsily) Both possible locations for that appendage already seem to be occupied. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >w Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >x lecturer As you draw closer, you see that while she addresses her audience, she is juggling a dodecahedron, an icosahedron, an octahedron, a regular hexahedron, a tetrahedron, and a sphere: these airborne subjects of her talk seem to form a perfect arch above her while her arms mill in ceaseless motion. >ask lecturer for book Which do you mean, the titian book, the malachite book, the cerulean book, the bronze book, the gamboge book, or the ecru book? >titian (the lecturer first taking the titian book) The lecturer has better things to do. >u Starlit Roof The noise and bustle down below seems muted by the swaddling dark up here. Yet the night is drizzled with stars, which rain their shining light down in occasional drips and and gobbets from the sky. There are perhaps a dozen other people up here already, all raptly gazing up while wandering about in a seemingly aimless fashion. >d Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >w Archway At the foot of the staircase is a stone archway with a wide brass bell hung at its apex. Both sides of the arch are decorated in macabre fashion with numerous skeletal arms, hanging down like withered branches. Beyond the archway to the west you can dimly make out a small, alcove-like crypt. Sounds of the party in the salon can be faintly heard echoing down the stairs just to the east. >w As you step under the arch, the bell suddenly lets out a brassy clangor and the skeletal arms on boths sides leap abruptly to life, seizing hold of you. Panicked, you struggle and squirm and finally manage to stumble backwards out of their grip. >x bell A wide brass bell, its clapper quivering as you lean in to inspect it. >take clapper (somewhat clumsily) That seems to be a part of the bell. >push clapper Nothing obvious happens. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >put bandage on clapper What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >remove clapper (somewhat clumsily) You aren't wearing the clapper. >cut clapper Cutting it up would achieve little. >x bell A wide brass bell, its clapper quivering as you lean in to inspect it. >put bandage on bell What? Don't be absurd! That's obviously not a serviceable limb. >take bell (somewhat clumsily) That seems to be a part of the arch. >x arch With each one attached to a shoulder joint rooted in the mortar between the stones of the arch, the skeletal arms look like they retain a disturbing range of motion, even if they happen to be limp and still at the moment. The bell above them hangs like a brassy sentinel. >search bell The bell is empty. >ring bell That's not a verb I recognize. >push bell Nothing obvious happens. >move bell Nothing obvious happens. >open bell It isn't something you can open. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel a cotton bandage forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >play bell (somewhat clumsily) Leaning in carefully to avoid triggering the bell, you swaddle the clapper in cotton gauze, until the bell is completely muffled. >w The clapper of the bell gives a mighty effort, thwacking away vigorously, but produces no more than a muted rustle. The skeletal arms remain limp, and you pass through undisturbed. Cryptcove Lit by its own eerie greenish corpse-light, a ghoul lies in an open sarcophagus watching your approach. On the wall behind it is a coat of arms. The ghoul is dressed in a moth-eaten sable cloak, with numerous rings on its fingers and a key hung around its neck. >x ghoul In response to your uneasy glances, the ghoul speaks in weary tones. "Oh, don't worry, I'm too exhausted to eat you right now. One thing they don't warn you about unlife: how hard it is to get a good night's sleep. Especially with that lot upstairs partying for what seems like forever. I'd give anything right now for just a little shut-eye." >give vial (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) "I don't want that!" The Ghoul waves its tainted claws and you back away again to a safe distance. >x coat (the Boat Coat) You see nothing special about the Boat Coat. >x coat of arms The shield painted on the wall depicts two argent keys in saltire on an azure field, and bearing the motto Reserare Libri. Beneath it are a crossed sword and axe, which you realize with a start are not painted, but very real -- if a bit rusty. >x cloak You can't see any such thing. >x key (the crystal key) You see nothing special about the crystal key. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give sequin (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) "I don't want that!" The Ghoul waves its tainted claws and you back away again to a safe distance. >give forceps (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) "I don't want that!" The Ghoul waves its tainted claws and you back away again to a safe distance. >give scalpel (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) "I don't want that!" The Ghoul waves its tainted claws and you back away again to a safe distance. >give ladder (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) "I don't want that!" The Ghoul waves its tainted claws and you back away again to a safe distance. >give expert (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) "I don't want that!" The Ghoul waves its tainted claws and you back away again to a safe distance. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give bronze (to the Insomniac Ghoul) (somewhat clumsily) You look up from the book in the middle of reading it a story, to notice that the ghoul has dropped into a deep slumber. Its fanged jaw has gone slack, and its lengthy, lugubrious tongue droops off to one side. >x ghoul The ghoul is snoring steadily, but clearly not loud enough to wake the dead. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >l Cryptcove Lit by its own eerie greenish corpse-light, a ghoul lies in an open sarcophagus snoring rather horribly. On the wall behind it is a coat of arms. The ghoul is dressed in a moth-eaten sable cloak, with numerous rings on its fingers and a key hung around its neck. >take key (the skeleton key) (somewhat clumsily) You very cautiously lean over the creature and use your trusty scalpel to sever the cord on which the key hangs. Leaving the snoring ghoul undisturbed by this operation, you pocket the key. >x it A fairly small key carved from age-browned bone. Its tiny teeth, however, are many-jointed and look as if they would fit neatly into any lock. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales, locked) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >unlock bronze That doesn't seem to be something you can unlock. >open bronze There is a soft scrabbling sound as the fingers of the skeleton key fit themselves to the lock, and when you turn it the hasp pops open with a loud click. >x it You begin a story called Azra Borealis, or The Girl Who Spoke to Trees: "Once upon a time, a girl was born to a poor woodcutter who knew the language of trees. As she grew older, she began to beg her father not to cut this tree, or that one, which she had befriended. The woodcutter loved her too much to deny her, and soon grew desperately poor as he was unable to carry out his livelihood, and began to fear that his family would starve." >x it "The trees guided Azra to the seecret treasure, deep in the woods, of a princess who had perished unrescued after 100 years of sleep. But robbers fell upon her as she returned home, taking her riches and tying her up. "We steal from the rich and give to the poor," they assured her, "for all the world is richer than we, and nobody is poorer than ourselves."" >x it "The robbers tied Azra to a tree, so she pled to it for help. And in the night, the tree grew sharp ridges in its bark to cut her ropes and free her, which is why to this day hackberry trees look so oddly ridged. But after fleeing the bandits in the night, at dawn Azra found herself in an unfamiliar kingdom, where the trees were all strangers and none could tell her the way home." >x it "At first the prince was pleased with the serving girl his intended bride had befriended, for Azra was plain and common-born, and the prince believed it would keep her attention from wandering to his more handsome rivals. But the princess began to spend more and more of her time with Azra, and they moved from strolling the royal gardens discussing what the trees thought of the lady's suitors, to spending whole days going out into the forest, just the two of them, to converse with the much older and wiser trees there. Finally, the prince grew bitterly jealous that the princess clearly preferred Azra's companionship to his own, and he resolved to do away with her." >x it "Azra pled with the royal huntsman, but he hardened his heart and did as the prince had ordered, slaying her in the clearing where she had thought to meet the princess, and cutting her into five pieces before burying her. In anger, the trees shook and swayed and thrashed as if in a storm as the huntsman made his way back, so that he barely returned to the castle, and in great fear for his life. In fact, he was so terrified that he lost the courage to ever enter the woods again, and soon lost his position and was forced to muck out stables for his daily bread." >x it A heavy leather tome, with bronze fittings. Its cover declares it in Gothic block lettering to be The Collected Fairy Tales of the Sisters Ffey. As engrossing as you find Azra's tale, you realize that there are more pressing things at the moment. With an effort of will, you promise yourself the story's conclusion once things are a bit more settled around here. >l Cryptcove Lit by its own eerie greenish corpse-light, a ghoul lies in an open sarcophagus snoring rather horribly. On the wall behind it is a coat of arms. The ghoul is dressed in a moth-eaten sable cloak, with numerous rings on its fingers. >take rings (somewhat clumsily) Tempting, yes. But there's no way to get a ring without fiddling with the creature's putrefied fingers, and you shudder to think what the ghoul might do if it woke up after finally drifting off, to find you trying to rob it. >take ring (somewhat clumsily) Tempting, yes. But there's no way to get a ring without fiddling with the creature's putrefied fingers, and you shudder to think what the ghoul might do if it woke up after finally drifting off, to find you trying to rob it. >take arms skeletal arm: (somewhat clumsily) You're not going to be able to just pull one free; you'll need a heavy-duty tool to chop one off. axe: (somewhat clumsily) You carefully unhook the axe from the wall. Wiping off a little of the rust, you find the armament is still in fairly good condition. >l Cryptcove Lit by its own eerie greenish corpse-light, a ghoul lies in an open sarcophagus snoring rather horribly. On the wall behind it is a coat of arms. The ghoul is dressed in a moth-eaten sable cloak, with numerous rings on its fingers. >x coat of arms The shield painted on the wall depicts two argent keys in saltire on an azure field, and bearing the motto Reserare Libri. Beneath it hangs a rusty sword. >take sword (somewhat clumsily) Unfortunately, the sword crumbles into rusty bits as soon as you start to dislodge it. So much for being well-armed -- though fortunately nobody around here seems at all threatening. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) an axe a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >wear axe (somewhat clumsily) You put on the axe. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) an axe (being worn) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >l Cryptcove Lit by its own eerie greenish corpse-light, a ghoul lies in an open sarcophagus snoring rather horribly. On the wall behind it is a coat of arms. The ghoul is dressed in a moth-eaten sable cloak, with numerous rings on its fingers. >cut ghoul You already have that. >e (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) The clapper of the bell gives a mighty effort, thwacking away vigorously, but produces no more than a muted rustle. The skeletal arms remain limp, and you pass through undisturbed. Archway At the foot of the staircase is a stone archway with a wide brass bell hung at its apex. Both sides of the arch are decorated in macabre fashion with numerous skeletal arms, hanging down like withered branches. Beyond the archway to the west you can dimly make out a small, alcove-like crypt. Sounds of the party in the salon can be faintly heard echoing down the stairs just to the east. >cut arms You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >cut arm (the right arm) Cutting it up would achieve little. >e (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >e (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >e You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >d (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. >save Ok. >l Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. >push moonface The moonface spins around, revealing a sunface. With soft implacable force, daylight scrapes away the night, and you are suddenly alone once more in the deserted plaza. >remove smock You take off the Clock Smock. >wear coat You put on the Boat Coat. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >ne (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e (your axe-arm swinging menacingly before you) Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >d Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >d You can't go that way. >s South Canal The canal passes by a weathered old wharf and loading crane here, where it opens into the bay. To the south lies an island plantation, while the bridge is just visible to the north. >s Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >x woman Her withered body lies limp in your arms. She has gone completely still. >n South Canal The canal passes by a weathered old wharf and loading crane here, where it opens into the bay. To the south lies an island plantation, while the bridge is just visible to the north. >n Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >n North Canal Here, the canal is funneled out of a flooded mangrove swamp to the north into its neat confines, to flow south through the city. >n Mangrove Swamp The heavy canopy closes in above you as you leave the city behind. You steer between interlocking stands of trees propped up on roots like countless fingers. Sitting on the edge of a large clump of trees where several roots make a natural hammock, a woman is fidgeting with a broken axe handle. >x woman (the Ancient Expert) Her withered body lies limp in your arms. She has gone completely still. >x What do you want to examine? >woman (the Ancient Expert) Her withered body lies limp in your arms. She has gone completely still. >give axe (to the anxious woman) (first taking the axe off) She exclaims with joy and seizes the tool at once, handing over a book to you in exchange. At once she sets to work on the trunk of a nearby tree, and in no time has split it open. From within, then, she helps a young man emerge who grins with delight and embraces her. Winking her thanks to you, she slips the axe into her belt and leads the man off into the trees, heading south back towards the city. >x woman Her withered body lies limp in your arms. She has gone completely still. >s North Canal Here, the canal is funneled out of a flooded mangrove swamp to the north into its neat confines, to flow south through the city. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a taupe book a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >read taupe Weather Prediction Will it snow, do you think? Or perhaps a light drizzle with fog? Weltering, sticky, and hot? Or would you prefer it to be autumnally clear and cool, sunny with just a few high scudding clouds like distant ships hastening to the horizon, the day after your death? >s Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >u Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >w Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >sw Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >wear cloak (somewhat clumsily) (first taking the market cloak) (somewhat clumsily) Within the Folds of the Market Cloak Ridges and valleys of fabric drape from your shoulders to spread across the square. The heads and arms of marketgoers protrude from opening in the cloak all around you. A smiling girl stands near one edge of the market cloak reading a vermilion book. A tall genial woman wanders about the maze-like folds and crannies of the market cloak, giving each person who passes an appraising glance. A elderly fellow boldly hawks his wares, holding up an ethereal sieve. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a market cloak (being worn) a broom a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a taupe book (poetry) a titian book (poetry) a malachite book (poetry) a cerulean book (poetry) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >give taupe to man (somewhat clumsily) "Thank you kindly," says the fellow. "And the rest? It costs four, you know." >give titian to man (somewhat clumsily) "Thank you kindly," says the fellow. "And the rest? It costs four, you know." >give malachite to man (somewhat clumsily) "Thank you kindly," says the fellow. "And the rest? It costs four, you know." >give cerulean to man (somewhat clumsily) "And a good day to you. Here you go, don't break it." He hands you the ethereal sieve and strides away. >w (somewhat clumsily) You shrug your way to an edge of the cloak and slip if off. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >remove coat (somewhat clumsily) You take off the Boat Coat. >wear smock (somewhat clumsily) You put on the Clock Smock. >push sunface You can't see any such thing. >x smock A garment of some stiff fabric. Gears spin and click, and somewhere inside its folds a pendulum swings. The front of the smock has hands like a clock, which swing drunkenly, seeming to indicate it is no particular time here. >x clock A garment of some stiff fabric. Gears spin and click, and somewhere inside its folds a pendulum swings. The front of the smock has hands like a clock, which swing drunkenly, seeming to indicate it is no particular time here. >sw You can't go that way. >w The wavering hands on your smock's clock face snap into place, indicating it is just after two o'clock. At the same time a little button, shaped like a sunface, pops out with a click, just below the hands. Dusty Afternoon A drab and dusty plaza. Anonymous buildings sag together like sleeping beasts. Lobed patches of sunlight drape over the stone like blankets. The windows are all shuttered, the doors sealed, the awnings furled, and the trees at each corner sag their leaves as if in torpor. A drowsy street heads east to the market. >push sunface The sun face spins around, revealing a moon face. With the dramatic sweep of a stage curtain closing, night falls around you. Apruptly, dancers in vibrant costumes and ostentatiously glittering masks are whirling all about, jostling and bustling you as you try to regain your bearings. Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. >u Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >w Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >u Starlit Roof The noise and bustle down below seems muted by the swaddling dark up here. Yet the night is drizzled with stars, which rain their shining light down in occasional drips and and gobbets from the sky. There are perhaps a dozen other people up here already, all raptly gazing up while wandering about in a seemingly aimless fashion. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) an ethereal sieve a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a vial a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x sieve It looks like a simple metal sieve. >l Starlit Roof The noise and bustle down below seems muted by the swaddling dark up here. Yet the night is drizzled with stars, which rain their shining light down in occasional drips and and gobbets from the sky. There are perhaps a dozen other people up here already, all raptly gazing up while wandering about in a seemingly aimless fashion. >x people Pausing to watch them, you realize at once that their movements aren't aimless at all: they are in fact trying to catch the light rain of celestial pablum on their tongues. >catch rain (somewhat clumsily) >catch rain in sieve I only understood you as far as wanting to catch the celestial pablum. >put rain in sieve (first taking the celestial pablum) (somewhat clumsily) That's hardly portable. >wear sieve (somewhat clumsily) You can't wear that! >use sieve (somewhat clumsily) >l Starlit Roof The noise and bustle down below seems muted by the swaddling dark up here. Yet the night is drizzled with stars, which rain their shining light down in occasional drips and and gobbets from the sky. There are perhaps a dozen other people up here already, all raptly gazing up while wandering about in a seemingly aimless fashion. >i Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) a broom a Boat Coat a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock (being worn) a bowler hat (being worn) your head (being worn) a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) vial of pure starlight an ethereal sieve a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >d Salon A large, elliptical room open to the night sky, its walls hung with translucent drapes. Candles burn at the center of concentric orreries suspended from horizontal threads. The candlelight fills the salon with overlapping cones of light. Doors to the east open onto the sounds of brassy music and general revelry, while a gloomy stairway descends into the building to the west. Oddly, there is no ceiling, and over the lip of the high wall you spot the feet of people walking about on the roof of a neighboring building. A lecturer standing at the foot of this wall, surrounded by a crowd of students. >e Balcony A tiny balcony overlooking the bustling hopping singing dancing late-night plaza. A ladder propped against the balustrade goes down to the plaza, while glass doors, flung wide, head west into a glimmering salon. It doesn't seem possible, but somehow an entire marching band has crowded onto this narrow balcony. They are led by a flamboyant drum major. >d Wild Night A festive throng fills the plaza, lit by strings of colored lights festooning the balconies and trees. Boisterous music permeates the air beneath the babbling roar of the party, making the surrounding buildings vibrate and echo with excitement. Striped awnings are unfurled everywhere above windows thrown open to show gleaming, bustling interiors. Now that you're looking for him, you spot a vendor with a table in one corner of the plaza. With some effort, you make your way through the throng to get a closer look. >push moonface The moonface spins around, revealing a sunface. With soft implacable force, daylight scrapes away the night, and you are suddenly alone once more in the deserted plaza. >remove coat (somewhat clumsily) You aren't wearing the Boat Coat. >remove smock (somewhat clumsily) You take off the Clock Smock. >wear coat (somewhat clumsily) You put on the Boat Coat. >e The hands of the clock smock lose their vigor, take up their random swinging. With a snick, the sunface vanishes back inside the smock's workings. Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >d Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >s South Canal The canal passes by a weathered old wharf and loading crane here, where it opens into the bay. To the south lies an island plantation, while the bridge is just visible to the north. >s Novalis Opus Spread out before you lies a vast plantation covering the whole of this verdant island. You note a greenhouse, and workers sprinkled across the fields, tending or harvesting, though there seems to be something a little odd about the crops. A farmer with what appears to be a typewriter for a head is kneeling nearby, working over a bare, furrowed patch of earth. >s You can't go that way. >give vial to farmer (somewhat clumsily) The Book Farmer takes the vial, holding it up briefly as if judging its quality, and it shines brilliantly even in the bright sunlight. Then he leads you to the greenhouse, instructing you to lie down in a nursery bed beside the leafy Seedling. Finally, he tips just a few drops of the starlight into your mouth. The world goes white. You experience a timeless moment of euphoria, laced with an inexplicable itching ache like that of a loose tooth. When you come to, the Book Farmer is helping you to your feet. He hands you a small card, on which is printed simply, "Welcome, Young Expert." >x card You can't see any such thing. >i The whole universe seems to be passing through your mind, and for the moment it's hard just to be stable on your feet. Everything seems to shimmer with possibility around you. You can't say how, but you can even tell that the Farmer himself is grinning broadly behind his keyboard. As you exit the greenhouse door, the Farmer steadying you, you feel some of your foliage brush the lintel and realize with a rush that he has indeed replaced your head with the Seedling. Even now, you can feel its roots throughout your being, and its knowledge seeping into your mind. First and foremost, you know you that you must return to the Tower, and perform a ritual to lay the former Expert to rest. >n South Canal The canal passes by a weathered old wharf and loading crane here, where it opens into the bay. To the south lies an island plantation, while the bridge is just visible to the north. >n Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >u Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >w Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >w You can't go that way. >n Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >w North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the southwest, north, and northeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >w Following the Dream Architect's directions, you wend through the twisting streets to find your way to the foot of the tower. Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with an open door at its foot. >n Tower Floor The ground floor of the tower is spare, with only a few hooks on the wall for theoretical hats or cloaks, and a round, plain rug on the floor. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. A recollection sprouts in your regrowing memory, of a useful tool hidden under the rug. The tower door, perfectly conventional from this side, leads south out of the tower. Sitting on the rug is a curious white and orange cat--long-haired, with its fur sticking out to its extremities and crackling with electricity. >x cat Blue-lavender arcs crackle across its fur, which also frequently emits golden sparks. Its whiskers quiver and it looks at you expectantly. >u Tower Workroom A busy, cluttered workroom. On one set of tables are what to your unpracticed eye appear to be alchemical arrays, while the other seems to be dominated by tools of celestial investigation. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >u Tower Living Room A cozy living area, complete with kitchen, dining area, and some more comfortable seating, all lit by many wide windows high on the wall. A number of pictures hang on the wall, both paintings and photographs. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >u Turret Bedroom A room hung with curtains, giving it a warm and cozy feel. At its center is a four-poster bed. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the tower roof. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >u Tower Roof From here you have an incredible view over the entire island. To the south you see Book Island and its splayed plantation; to the east is the hill crowned with the Hat Vault, and to the west lies a part of the city stuttering between light and dark. There is also a curious wrought-iron staircase spiralling up to--evidently--nowhere. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. "It is lovely to come up here now and then. Sometimes a bird or fly is even obliging enough to land and provide a bit of entertainment as well." >u Tower Floor The ground floor of the tower is spare, with only a few hooks on the wall for theoretical hats or cloaks, and a round, plain rug on the floor. A stairway spirals up the outer wall leading to the next floor high overhead. A recollection sprouts in your regrowing memory, of a useful tool hidden under the rug. The tower door, perfectly conventional from this side, leads south out of the tower. The cat follows you through the tower, its fur crepitating and shedding sparks. >move rug It is fixed in place. >search rug You find nothing of interest. >look under rug (somewhat clumsily) You lift one side of the rug to discover a tiny hidden compartment in the floor. An ivory, antler-shaped wand lies gently secreted in the space. >take wand (somewhat clumsily) Taken. You recall again the ritual you must complete in order to grow fully into your new role as the island's resident Expert. >x ritual To lay the Ancient Expert to rest, your inherited knowledge of the ritual instructs you to take her body into the deepest part of the mangrove swamp, and put it into the water there. >s Outside the Corinthian Tower You emerge into a small grassy clearing, a green respite from the smothering alleys. A single great tree keeps the clearing in a deep, cool shade, except for a sequence of sunbeams that have somehow penetrated its canopy. To the north side of the clearing stands an ivory-white tower with an open door at its foot. >s You can't go that way. >e North End Close, narrow alleys run between high buildings wedged tightly together. You eventually come to an intersection from which the alleys seem to lead off to the west, south, and southeast, though you must admit you've rather lost your bearings in here. >e With a little luck you manage to find your way back to the canal. You take some deep breaths, glad to have a respite from the claustrophobic confines of the city slums. Canal Path The path along the canal intersects the ends of various alleys all heading west into the city, before the path itself comes to an end at a high city wall. >s Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >d Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >n North Canal Here, the canal is funneled out of a flooded mangrove swamp to the north into its neat confines, to flow south through the city. >n Mangrove Swamp You steer between interlocking stands of trees propped up on roots like countless fingers. >n Deep in the Mangrove Swamp You've come to the deepest part of the mangrove swamp now. Yet curiously, the water here is no longer so dark and brackish; an opening in the canopy even lets a little sunlight filter down into the depths beneath you. >x opening You can't see any such thing. >drop expert As the stiff wooden body of the previous Expert slips from your arms into the crystal water, you feel a moment of absolute calm and certainty. This is who you are now. At long last, this land is where you belong. You watch her body sink down amid the ancient roots, seeing there the fate of countless Experts who came before you and those who will come after; one day, you know, you too will mingle your bones and branches in this wellspring of all magic. But for now, you turn your trusty boat coat back toward the city. There is so much work to be done. *** The End *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, see some suggestions for AMUSING things to do, QUIT, or UNDO the last command? > amusing > Game End Self-modification Other Amusements Game End > Self-modification Other Amusements Game End > Self-modification Other Amusements Can you complete the game without removing any of your limbs? Can you find a way to replace all of your limbs? After wearing the Seedling of Knowledge, did you set matters aright in Rhomboid Square? Please press SPACE to continue. Game End > Self-modification Other Amusements Game End > Self-modification Other Amusements Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, see some suggestions for AMUSING things to do, QUIT, or UNDO the last command? > undo Deep in the Mangrove Swamp [Previous turn undone.] >s Mangrove Swamp You steer between interlocking stands of trees propped up on roots like countless fingers. >s North Canal Here, the canal is funneled out of a flooded mangrove swamp to the north into its neat confines, to flow south through the city. >s Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >w You can't go that way. >u Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >w Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >sw Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x monument In one obtuse corner of the market plaza is a huge block of crystal, a geometric solid of some kind without any right angles. Inside, somehow, is a highly lifelike statue of an extremely disgruntled looking rotund man, holding his arms akimbo as if gesticulating in the midst of argument. Slumped against the side of the block which is closest to upright is a bored-looking guard. >break it You're not quite ready to resort to violence. You recall again the ritual you must complete in order to grow fully into your new role as the island's resident Expert. What you're doing feels very important, of course, but you know that soon you must perform the ritual. >open it It isn't something you can open. >wave wand You wave the Expert's Wand. >i Knowledge (Succession Ritual) Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) Seedling of Knowledge (being worn) a broom a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Expert's Wand an ethereal sieve a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) >x wand A forking antler of burnished ivory, with a leather grip worn black with age. >wave wand at monument I only understood you as far as wanting to wave the Expert's Wand. >i Knowledge (Succession Ritual) Knowledge (Ancient Expert's fate) Knowledge (musical practice) Knowledge (labyrinth secret) Seedling of Knowledge (being worn) a broom a Boat Coat (being worn) a Gown Chair a Bicycle Suit with Wheels and Shelves a West Vest a Clock Smock a right arm (being worn) a right leg (being worn) a left leg (being worn) a bronze book (a book of fairy tales) a gamboge book (an architectural catalog) an ecru book (a technical manual) the Expert's Wand an ethereal sieve a skeleton key the Ancient Expert a ladder a crystal key a quill a bottle of ink a scalpel forceps a sequin a medical kit (open but empty) > I beg your pardon? >l Rhomboid Square A moderately busy market plaza, laid out somewhat but not entirely less like a rectangle than a diamond. To one side is some sort of crystal monument, and not exactly opposite this is an intriguing fountain. Paths lead from the four skewed corners of the square: south to the Gauzebo Park, northeast between shabby buildings, southeast towards the side of a canal, and west to narrow plaza. The central portion of this not really a square is covered by heaps and drapes of soft grey fabric, a communal cloak covering the bodies of several dozen chattering and gesticulating people; their heads and limbs protrude from its various vents and holes. >x guard Her old, bedraggled uniform matches the rather downcast look on her face. >e You can't go that way. >quit Are you sure you want to quit? n >e You can't go that way. >ne Shabby Neighborhood A potholed street from the southwest is lined with buildings either boarded up or falling down. A bridge heads east over the dark waters of a canal. A narrow walkway leads north and south along the canal's edge. On the corner near you stands a bridge-sweeper holding a chipped enamel cup. The bedraggled fellow rattles his cup with a lop-sided smile. "Spare a coin for a newly re-employed bridge-sweeper?" >e Canal Bridge The bridge runs east to west over a canal running almost perfectly perpendicular, north to south; steps at one end lead down to the water's edge. A steady stream of pedestrian traffic suggests the city is quickly coming back to life. >d Central Canal The canal flows more or less straight here from the north, headed south between high stone walls toward the sea. The vaulted mass of the bridge looms overhead, and steps lead up to it from the water's edge. >n North Canal Here, the canal is funneled out of a flooded mangrove swamp to the north into its neat confines, to flow south through the city. >n Mangrove Swamp You steer between interlocking stands of trees propped up on roots like countless fingers. >n Deep in the Mangrove Swamp You've come to the deepest part of the mangrove swamp now. Yet curiously, the water here is no longer so dark and brackish; an opening in the canopy even lets a little sunlight filter down into the depths beneath you. >save Ok. >drop expert As the stiff wooden body of the previous Expert slips from your arms into the crystal water, you feel a moment of absolute calm and certainty. This is who you are now. At long last, this land is where you belong. You watch her body sink down amid the ancient roots, seeing there the fate of countless Experts who came before you and those who will come after; one day, you know, you too will mingle your bones and branches in this wellspring of all magic. But for now, you turn your trusty boat coat back toward the city. There is so much work to be done. *** The End *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, see some suggestions for AMUSING things to do, QUIT, or UNDO the last command? >