Start of a transcript of Intro to The Devil's Music An Interactive Fiction by Harkness Munt Release 1 / Serial number 190801 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.33 lib 6/12N) First time players, please type ABOUT. Identification number: //06B12B04-56C7-490A-BA28-33B3C0CACCEF// Interpreter version 1.2.9 / VM 3.1.2 / Library serial number 080126 Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson Exit Lister version 11 by Eric Eve >about Just a quick note: The goal of the first part of the game was supposed to be getting into the farmhouse. Due to unforeseen madness, I didn't quite get that far. Still, I thought people should have something to work towards as they play so I added a few extra items which will only be found in the introcomp version of the game. You should know them when you find them. If you have any questions, comments, or bug reports, please contact me at ammophila.procera@gmail.com. Thank you. >n Rickety Front Porch Everything here is hazy and formless, and I immediately recognize this as an unimplemented area. We have many such places in Hell. A door hovers before me, more distinct than its surroundings. >x door My instincts inform me that this is the entrance to Ezra Mayhew's farmhouse. A strange smell pricks at my nostrils when I'm near it, sweet and acrid like witchwork, but if there's a sigil here then it must be on the other side of the door. >open door Something about the door repels me. I'm unable to get too close. >x sigil My celestial brothers scribed it upon me when I was cast down, to imprison me in this flesh. It might be I could disrupt it, briefly, but only once. The sigil was born in the Void and is like a living thing. It learns. >s Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >s Road to Hell Everything here is hazy and formless, and I immediately recognize this as an unimplemented area. We have many such places in Hell. >n Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >e I follow the road up for a time, but when it veers and descends toward a stand of pines, I abandon it and keep climbing. Grassy Upland Evening light transmutes the grass into nodding stalks of gold, and the river's a steel ribbon, miles off to the west. The ridgeline slopes down towards a town to the southeast, presided over by a stately white church. The sun hugs the horizon, bleeding rose and violet into the sky. A gust of wind carries the scent of sweet clover. Thunder sings. A heron wings over the hilltop, its neck crooked back. It utters a strangled call as it heads toward a line of trees to the southwest. >x heron The bird is already long gone. >*ooh, nice line! You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >w Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >w I travel a mile, maybe more, as the road marches steadily down towards the river valley. Shaded Lane My toes click against the flagstones, and acorns crack underfoot. The lane cuts a path straight as a spear's throw to the west, towards a line of pale columns. Oak boughs vault overhead in a dark filigree, knotted with plumes of Spanish moss. A strange odor wafts from the southwest. Something about it is familiar. >x me After I fell, my brothers sealed me into a shell of flesh, like the other creatures of this world. The binding sigil slithers just under my skin, glistening ultraviolet. Sensing my gaze, it digs itself deeper into my arm. >x sigil My celestial brothers scribed it upon me when I was cast down, to imprison me in this flesh. It might be I could disrupt it, briefly, but only once. The sigil was born in the Void and is like a living thing. It learns. >i I am carrying: a collecting sack (closed) a Hadean scroll >x scroll The papyrus splits as I unfurl the scroll and read. It's a contract between one Ezra Mayhew and myself, recorded in bile and blood. His final payment has come due today. That would be why I'm here. >*hadean, nice You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >read scroll The papyrus splits as I unfurl the scroll and read. It's a contract between one Ezra Mayhew and myself, recorded in bile and blood. His final payment has come due today. That would be why I'm here. >sw The odor grows stronger as it draws me into the wood. The wind shifts as I skirt the edge of a low meadow, and for a moment I lose the trail. Only for a moment. Creek Bank Bulrushes and river cane have conquered a creek bank. A covered bridge spans the sluggish water to the south. A trail cuts up through a ravine to the northeast. The scent I've been tracking is intense here, and grows stronger as I approach the bridge. >smell I smell nothing unexpected. The sharp call of a bittern comes from somewhere in the cane. >s Covered Bridge A tangle of thick woody vines drapes the south end of a long covered bridge, and a muddy creek flows beneath. The smell from the vines is almost overpowering. >smell I smell nothing unexpected. >x vines A thick tangle of vines spills down over the far end of the bridge. The smell is most intense in that direction. >search vines I tear aside some of the smaller vines. Their touch is like acid on my skin, and I grow light-headed from their stench. I can see the source of it now. Some of the thicker vines have been trained to grow into the shape of a warding sigil, probably the work of some hedge witch. For a moment, I sense something massive gliding through the turgid water below. >g The vines have been woven into the shape of a warding sigil. >x water I can't see any such thing. >search water I can't see any such thing. >l Covered Bridge A tangle of thick woody vines drapes the south end of a long covered bridge, and a muddy creek flows beneath. The smell from the vines is almost overpowering. >x creek I can't see any such thing. >n Creek Bank Bulrushes and river cane have conquered a creek bank. A covered bridge spans the sluggish water to the south. A trail cuts up through a ravine to the northeast. The scent I've been tracking is intense here, and grows stronger as I approach the bridge. >s Covered Bridge A tangle of thick woody vines drapes the south end of a long covered bridge, and a muddy creek flows beneath. The smell from the vines is almost overpowering. >s As I attempt to step onto the south creek bank, something arrests my movement, and the strange smell intensifies. I'm unable to pass. >w I can't go that way. >e I can't go that way. >i I am carrying: a collecting sack (closed) a Hadean scroll >n Creek Bank Bulrushes and river cane have conquered a creek bank. A covered bridge spans the sluggish water to the south. A trail cuts up through a ravine to the northeast. The scent I've been tracking is intense here, and grows stronger as I approach the bridge. >ne Shaded Lane My toes click against the flagstones, and acorns crack underfoot. The lane cuts a path straight as a spear's throw to the west, towards a line of pale columns. Oak boughs vault overhead in a dark filigree, knotted with plumes of Spanish moss. A strange odor wafts from the southwest. Something about it is familiar. >e Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >s Road to Hell Everything here is hazy and formless, and I immediately recognize this as an unimplemented area. We have many such places in Hell. >n Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >e I follow the road up for a time, but when it veers and descends toward a stand of pines, I abandon it and keep climbing. Grassy Upland Evening light transmutes the grass into nodding stalks of gold, and the river's a steel ribbon, miles off to the west. The ridgeline slopes down towards a town to the southeast, presided over by a stately white church. The sun hugs the horizon, bleeding rose and violet into the sky. A gust of wind carries the scent of sweet clover. Thunder sings. I watch for a spell, as a steamboat fights against the current and trundles away upriver, into the distance and out of sight. >w Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. As I watch, an insect nymph hooks its claws into the bark of a tree and climbs. It shudders and waits to molt. >w I travel a mile, maybe more, as the road marches steadily down towards the river valley. Shaded Lane My toes click against the flagstones, and acorns crack underfoot. The lane cuts a path straight as a spear's throw to the west, towards a line of pale columns. Oak boughs vault overhead in a dark filigree, knotted with plumes of Spanish moss. A strange odor wafts from the southwest. Something about it is familiar. >sw I head into the wood and across the meadow. Then I drop down into a steep-sided ravine and follow it to the edge of the creek. Creek Bank Bulrushes and river cane have conquered a creek bank. A covered bridge spans the sluggish water to the south. A trail cuts up through a ravine to the northeast. The scent I've been tracking is intense here, and grows stronger as I approach the bridge. >s Covered Bridge A tangle of thick woody vines drapes the south end of a long covered bridge, and a muddy creek flows beneath. The smell from the vines is almost overpowering. >about Just a quick note: The goal of the first part of the game was supposed to be getting into the farmhouse. Due to unforeseen madness, I didn't quite get that far. Still, I thought people should have something to work towards as they play so I added a few extra items which will only be found in the introcomp version of the game. You should know them when you find them. If you have any questions, comments, or bug reports, please contact me at ammophila.procera@gmail.com. Thank you. >help Just a quick note: The goal of the first part of the game was supposed to be getting into the farmhouse. Due to unforeseen madness, I didn't quite get that far. Still, I thought people should have something to work towards as they play so I added a few extra items which will only be found in the introcomp version of the game. You should know them when you find them. If you have any questions, comments, or bug reports, please contact me at ammophila.procera@gmail.com. Thank you. >l Covered Bridge A tangle of thick woody vines drapes the south end of a long covered bridge, and a muddy creek flows beneath. The smell from the vines is almost overpowering. >x creek I can't see any such thing. >x bridge I can't see any such thing. >i I am carrying: a collecting sack (closed) a Hadean scroll >open sack I fumble with the heavy lacings and release the seals. The sack falls open. >look in sack I feel inside the sack, but find nothing. >move sigil (the warding sigil) It is fixed in place. >l Covered Bridge A tangle of thick woody vines drapes the south end of a long covered bridge, and a muddy creek flows beneath. The smell from the vines is almost overpowering. >s As I attempt to step onto the south creek bank, something arrests my movement, and the strange smell intensifies. I'm unable to pass. >push sigil (the warding sigil) It is fixed in place. >e I can't go that way. >w I can't go that way. >n Creek Bank Bulrushes and river cane have conquered a creek bank. A covered bridge spans the sluggish water to the south. A trail cuts up through a ravine to the northeast. The scent I've been tracking is intense here, and grows stronger as I approach the bridge. >*ooh, there's an exit list at the top! You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >ne Shaded Lane My toes click against the flagstones, and acorns crack underfoot. The lane cuts a path straight as a spear's throw to the west, towards a line of pale columns. Oak boughs vault overhead in a dark filigree, knotted with plumes of Spanish moss. A strange odor wafts from the southwest. Something about it is familiar. >w Great House Veranda A colonnade of fluted marble runs the length of the plantation house, and a long arcade of oaks shades a paved lane to the east. The aroma of a wood fire and roast chicken from the kitchens out back has me slavering. >w I can't go that way. >x house I've never understood why men would choose to lock themselves up in fancy boxes when they could run feral and free. >n I can't go that way. >s I can't go that way. >e Shaded Lane My toes click against the flagstones, and acorns crack underfoot. The lane cuts a path straight as a spear's throw to the west, towards a line of pale columns. Oak boughs vault overhead in a dark filigree, knotted with plumes of Spanish moss. A strange odor wafts from the southwest. Something about it is familiar. >e Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >n Rickety Front Porch Everything here is hazy and formless, and I immediately recognize this as an unimplemented area. We have many such places in Hell. A door hovers before me, more distinct than its surroundings. >n Something about the door repels me. I'm unable to enter. >s Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >s Road to Hell Everything here is hazy and formless, and I immediately recognize this as an unimplemented area. We have many such places in Hell. >n Crossroads The air vibrates with cicada song and settles in my lungs like wet velvet. It's getting on toward dusk, and the sunlight slants beneath the thunderclouds, painting the leaves lemon-green against the slate sky. The road slinks down into a copse of hickories, meets another, and both wind away again. North and south. East and west. >e I follow the road up for a time, but when it veers and descends toward a stand of pines, I abandon it and keep climbing. Grassy Upland Evening light transmutes the grass into nodding stalks of gold, and the river's a steel ribbon, miles off to the west. The ridgeline slopes down towards a town to the southeast, presided over by a stately white church. The sun hugs the horizon, bleeding rose and violet into the sky. A gust of wind carries the scent of sweet clover. Thunder sings. >se Churchyard Lichens creep across the low wall, and beyond it, grave markers float in a sea of wildflowers beneath a towering steeple. To the south, the church gleams a warm alabaster in the light of the dying sun, and just off to the east rests a little stone outbuilding, surrounded by rose bushes. A old wooden gate blocks the doorway of the outbuilding, secured by a heavy chain and padlock. >s The church is to the south. If I could get one of the windows open I might be able to get inside. >open window I try to open the window, but the latch is just out of reach. >i I am carrying: a collecting sack (open but empty) a Hadean scroll >e The gate is locked up tight, but there's a gap at the top. I might be able to climb through. >climb What do you want to climb? >gate I scrabble up to the top of the gate. I only make it partway through the gap before I'm wedged in tight. Churchyard (on the top of the gate) The light inside the windowless outbuilding is dim, and it smells of old pottery and rotting flowers. A bench runs the length of one wall, laden with a gardener's tools and old altar vases. It appears as though the building is being used as a potting shed. I can see a pair of gloves hanging from a hook inside the shed. >take gloves I can't quite reach the pair of gloves from here. I'll need to find a way to get it down first. >jump I flex my knees and take a great leap. >jump to gloves I only understood you as far as wanting to jump. >s The church is to the south. If I could get one of the windows open I might be able to get inside. >e I struggle to slide through the gap, but I only manage to wedge myself in tighter. There just isn't enough space above the gate. >l Churchyard (on the top of the gate) The light inside the windowless outbuilding is dim, and it smells of old pottery and rotting flowers. A bench runs the length of one wall, laden with a gardener's tools and old altar vases. It appears as though the building is being used as a potting shed. I can see a pair of gloves hanging from a hook inside the shed. >jump I flex my knees and take a great leap. >d I get off the top of the gate. Churchyard Lichens creep across the low wall, and beyond it, grave markers float in a sea of wildflowers beneath a towering steeple. To the south, the church gleams a warm alabaster in the light of the dying sun, and just off to the east rests a little stone outbuilding, surrounded by rose bushes. A old wooden gate blocks the doorway of the outbuilding, secured by a heavy chain and padlock. >x padlock An old padlock secures the gate. >climb gate I scrabble up to the top of the gate. I only make it partway through the gap before I'm wedged in tight. Churchyard (on the top of the gate) The light inside the windowless outbuilding is dim, and it smells of old pottery and rotting flowers. A bench runs the length of one wall, laden with a gardener's tools and old altar vases. It appears as though the building is being used as a potting shed. I can see a pair of gloves hanging from a hook inside the shed. >i I am carrying: a collecting sack (open but empty) a Hadean scroll >throw scroll at gloves Futile. >get gloves with scroll I only understood you as far as wanting to get the pair of gloves. >x tools I'll be able to see that better if I can get into the shed. >enter shed That's not something I can enter. >e I struggle to slide through the gap, but I only manage to wedge myself in tighter. There just isn't enough space above the gate. >d I get off the top of the gate. Churchyard Lichens creep across the low wall, and beyond it, grave markers float in a sea of wildflowers beneath a towering steeple. To the south, the church gleams a warm alabaster in the light of the dying sun, and just off to the east rests a little stone outbuilding, surrounded by rose bushes. A old wooden gate blocks the doorway of the outbuilding, secured by a heavy chain and padlock. >w I can't go that way. >nw Grassy Upland Evening light transmutes the grass into nodding stalks of gold, and the river's a steel ribbon, miles off to the west. The ridgeline slopes down towards a town to the southeast, presided over by a stately white church. The sun hugs the horizon, bleeding rose and violet into the sky. A gust of wind carries the scent of sweet clover. Thunder sings. >help Just a quick note: The goal of the first part of the game was supposed to be getting into the farmhouse. Due to unforeseen madness, I didn't quite get that far. Still, I thought people should have something to work towards as they play so I added a few extra items which will only be found in the introcomp version of the game. You should know them when you find them. If you have any questions, comments, or bug reports, please contact me at ammophila.procera@gmail.com. Thank you. >