Start of a transcript of: YOU ARE A WARRIOR POET, trained in your discipline through four years of study in the Department of Poetry and War at the prestigious College of Myth and Legend, in your home land of Mourdrascus. Or at least, you will be a Warrior Poet -- officially, that is -- and able to pursue a lucrative and adventurous career as a professional -- only once you graduate. To do that, the Prefect of your Department, Professor Zylock, needs to approve your senior thesis. However, a vicious misfortune has plagued you: the Professor turned out to be a dastardly crook! Just before the end of your final academic year, Zylock abandoned his duties, stole the Department's most valuable artifact -- the Mantablasphere -- and went on the run. A star student, truly the finest amongst your fellows, you were called before the Academic Tribunal as they debated in hushed whispers between themselves about how to deal with this unfortunate catastrophe. And after some time, they delivered their final judgement on the matter: you, an untested and inexperienced undergraduate, were to venture out across the Infinite Sands, alone, to chase after the Professor, hunt him down, and retrieve the Mantablasphere. The decision left you flabbergasted. Should such a task fall on your shoulders? Certainly not. Were there others more experienced and capable -- perhaps even members of the staff -- who should be chosen to go after the delinquent Professor? Absolutely. Was it, then, solid reasoning, and a healthy regard for human life, that led the Tribunal to their decision? Not in the least. It was the long term resiliency of the College that the Tribunal cared about, and nothing more. The Department of Poetry and War has been dwindling for some time, as more and more new students take on sexier subjects, like Psionics, Wizardry, and Business Administration. There are only ten members of your graduating class, including you. Clearly, the Administrators decided it wasn't worth committing any valuable resources to the problem, except for one of the few students left in the College's least important degree program (which they will likely shutter in the next couple of years anyway). So they sent you on your way to cross the desert, find the deserting Professor Zylock, and recover the pilfered Mantablasphere. And if you succeed -- well, maybe then, you can graduate. << press any key >> WARRIOR POET OF MOURDRASCUS, Part 1: The City of Dol Bannath A text-based fantasy adventure game by Charles M Ball Release 1 / Serial number 250906 / Inform 7 v10.1.2 THE TREK ACROSS the expanse of the Infinite Sands stressed your ability to maintain meditative selflessness to its limits. Mile after mile of dunes went by under the slow plodding gait of your Ashungui Camel, countless nights passing while you traveled, each stretch of time between dusk and dawn seeming like the same as the one before. The brutal sun pierced your crude shelter during the days, penetrating your dreams while you suffered fitful sleep, until the cooler nights allowed you to continue on. If not for your training in mental discipline from the College of Myth and Legend, you would have been a mumbling head case halfway into the journey, lost to the sands like many foolish travelers who venture alone into the desert, unprepared for its merciless torment of boiling heat and dismal emptiness. But you lasted, and finally you have arrived at a flourishing city on the southern border of the sand sea. Will you find Professor Zylock here, in Dol Bannath? Well...perhaps? His head start on you was only two days, but as an Academic Prefect of the Department of Poetry and War, he has at his disposal a number of advanced Rhymes that you have yet to master. He may have bested your time crossing the desert by a week or more. The question is, where was he heading with the Mantablaspere? And what did he intend to do with it? Your task is set out for you, and now, with the sun starting to set, and a cool breeze bathing you from the direction of the Copper Sea, you enter the city. Dizzying culture shock again tests your cognitive durability as the sights, smells and sounds of civilization assault your sensitive faculties. Your camel, having taken you across the great expanse of the Infinite Sands, is now worth much more in trade than as transportation, so you trot your animal companion into the Camel Pit at Market Square, and consider your options for selling the beast. (You can type ABOUT for some useful information.) Inform 7 v10.1.2 Identification number: //599DC550-4E02-4F60-85F1-118DF48EA928// Interpreter version 1.3.7 / VM 3.1.3 Questions version 5.2 by Michael Callaghan Rideable Vehicles version 3 by Graham Nelson >about Warrior Poet of Mourdrascus is a text-based adventure game. It was not written to irritate you, but it still might. Many conventions typical of interactive fiction are present here, but the variety of commands required is not intended to challenge the player. LOOK (or simply L) will tell you where you are. Most paths of progress are revealed when you EXAMINE (EX or simply X work too) something or someone (including what you are already carrying), or when you TALK TO someone. You will also need to UNLOCK some things and OPEN some things, possibly BUY some things, and PICK UP or TAKE things, as well as a few other actions which should not be difficult to arrive at. You will encounter some enemies and may need to ATTACK them. Some things you find will help you in battle, but you must WEAR them to gain their bonus. INVENTORY or simply I will show you what your player currently carries on their person, and what is being worn, and other useful information. Moving through the world is accomplished in the longstanding tradition of following the directions on a compass, such as GO NORTH or GO SOUTHWEST. The least verbose navigation is achieved by the shortest references to these directions, such as simply S (for south) or NW (for northwest). You can die in combat, which will end the game. You can SAVE your game, and RESTORE a saved game. If playing in a browser, this works with cookies, so if you clear your cache or use a different browser, saved games will be deleted or inaccessible. You also can UNDO your last command if you make a mistake (but note: in rare instances, this may produce odd results). Finally, the author wishes to graciously thank the generous beta testers of this game, especially Rovarsson, James H, Steve, and Mike K. Their invaluable input made finishing this work possible. And now it is time to embark on your chase, to retrieve the Mantablasphere from Professor Zylock, and, finally, get your degree. >x me As good-looking as ever. >i You are carrying: a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business two gold pieces -- You have 15 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 0. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >x outfit Somewhat faded after your trek across the Infinite Sands, the colors of the College of Myth and Legend, still conspicuous, adorn your outfit, consisting of a pair of light cotton leggings, a tunic, and a robe with a hood. >x dagger A simple weapon, easy to carry, easy to use, and somewhat dangerous in the hands of an undergraduate Warrior Poet such as yourself. >x amulet Obtained during your first year at the College of Myth and Legend, your undergraduate amulet gives mystical power to your Rhymes. A more powerful Graduate Amulet waits for you upon graduation -- if you can return to Mourdrascus with the Mantablasphere (and with or without Professor Zylock himself, you guess, given what little you were told when the Academic Tribunal sent you after the delinquent Professor). >x letter It reminds you of sitting before the Academic Tribunal with the issue of your graduation under consideration, following Professor Zylock's unexpected criminal flight with the stolen Mantablasphere, prize of the Department of Poetry and War. The choice for you to go after Zylock was quite a shock, but the Administrators had little sympathy for your objections; from their point of view, the Department of Poetry and War was losing favor, so if its Prefect and best graduating student both were never heard from again, who would there be to stand in the way of its dissolution? Further reasoning carried that the operation was exactly the sort of thing you will be doing after graduation (albeit then for pay), and the experience might help you land a quality job. (Grudgingly you sympathized with this perspective, but it still bothered you a bit being forced into the position.) So they wrote up this useless letter informing anyone interested that you were operating in the capacity of a proper representative of the College of Myth and Legend, at the prestigious University of Mourdrascus, and they sent you on your way. >x gold A coin for commerce, convenient for its wide acceptance across kingdoms and townships near and far. >read letter It's the letter given to you by the Academic Tribunal when they decided, in their infinite wisdom, to send you out on this quest to hunt down Professor Zylock and retrieve the Mantablasphere. It essentially says that you are acting as a proper representative of the College of Myth and Legend, at the prestigious University of Mourdrascus. It's unlikely that anyone will care, but if your journey proves to be a success, perhaps you'll frame it and hang it on your wall as a keepsake one of these days. >l In The Camel Pit Several camel merchants await customers in the pit. To the west is a merchant in rich red robes, to the north is a merchant with an eye patch, and to the east a merchant in fancy green garb. >x camel Which do you mean, the camel merchants or the Ashungui camel? >ashungui The Ashungui is a noble breed, and it has borne travelers into and across the Infinite Sands throughout the history of civilization. >x merchants There are three camel traders doing business in the Pit today. You are quite sure any one of them will be eager to obtain your sturdy mount. >w Red Robed Merchant's Tent Rich red silks and flowing embroidered cotton adorn the merchant under her billowing canopy. "You there," you announce, "camel lady! Across the Infinite Sands I have traveled, and now I have arrived at your fair city. This camel bore me with grace, and stamina, eating little and drinking less along the way. Now I would sell her to you; what do you offer?" The merchant gives you an odd look, but with a shrug, she approaches and strolls around your animal, inspecting its teeth and coat. "It is a fine Ashungui camel, there is no doubt. Unfortunately, I cannot offer you her full worth in coin; but, along with forty gold pieces, I can give you this silver dirk, a much superior weapon to the small knife on your belt." You can trade your camel for forty gold pieces and the dirk, or you can try another merchant. Would you like to trade? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >n In The Camel Pit Several camel merchants await customers in the pit. To the west is a merchant in rich red robes, to the north is a merchant with an eye patch, and to the east a merchant in fancy green garb. >n Blue Robed Merchant's Tent The camel merchant has a patch over one eye, but the flashy jewelry and expensive royal blue robes he wears suggest both class and taste. Bringing your camel before him, you tug the lead so that the animal stands in profile. "Camel merchant! Here I have a steed of immeasurable worth!" you announce, with a grand wave of your hands toward your calm and sturdy mount. "She carried me across the Infinite Sands, though to look at her, you would think she spent the entire month lounging in fresh water under the shade of a lofty palm tree! What say you, merchant? Give me an offer!" He listens to your pitch with a blank expression, then approaches your camel and begins examining her, prodding and squeezing her hindquarters and lifting each of the animal's hooves from the ground to inspect it. "Your camel has indeed traveled far, but is no worse for wear, that I can see," he says finally, then turns his single eye on you. "You hail from the College of Myth and Legend, in far off Mourdrascus, do you not?" Apparently there is something conspicuous about your garb. "To pay you in gold for this camel would leave me with little left for further business today; however, you may be interested in this Poet's Jewel of Rhyming with Orange that I have to trade. I can offer it to you, along with forty gold pieces, for the animal." He shows you the Jewel, a burnt orange gem which sits against the forehead and adds to the effect of a Poet's Rhymes. You can trade your camel for forty gold pieces and the Poet's Jewel of Rhyming with Orange, or you can try another merchant. Would you like to trade? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >n In The Camel Pit Several camel merchants await customers in the pit. To the west is a merchant in rich red robes, to the north is a merchant with an eye patch, and to the east a merchant in fancy green garb. >e Green Robed Merchant's Tent The camel merchant's robe, the color of spearmint leaves, is sashed by a belt of golden silk. "You are lucky today, camel woman, for here I present to you this beast," you announce, as you lead your mount onto a low platform in the center of the merchant's stall. "She bore me across the Infinite Sands, and now she yearns to return, carrying some new fortunate traveler. Look upon her!" The merchant rises from her seat with a smile. She dishes a small tin cup of fresh water out of a basin, handing it to you, which you happily accept. She takes a few minutes to examine your animal. "I had my eye on you when you led this sturdy mount into the pit," she says, holding her hand before the beast's hissing nostrils. "For this specimen, I cannot pay you enough in gold, but I can offer you a sturdy leather chest piece with matching vambraces, and greaves, to protect you on your journey in these lands. That, as well as forty gold pieces, is my offer." You can trade your camel for forty pieces of gold and some leather armor, or you can try another merchant. Would you like to trade? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >y The merchant hands you your item and gold pieces and says, "Excellent. You have made a fine trade today, traveler." They lead your camel away. In The Camel Pit Satisfied with your transaction, you look south from the Pit toward Market Square, catching the pungent scents of exotic, spicy food and hearing cries from barkers announcing a range of curious wares. >x armor Made with fine attention to detail from the boiled and cured hide of the cliff-dwelling Antlerbeast, this armor is comfortable and stylish, and still provides protection when those you encounter are hostile and won't succumb to your sublime Verse. (This item provides protection 2 during battle, but you must be wearing it.) >wear armor You put on the leather armor. >l In The Camel Pit Satisfied with your transaction, you look south from the Pit toward Market Square, catching the pungent scents of exotic, spicy food and hearing cries from barkers announcing a range of curious wares. >smell You smell nothing unexpected. >listn I didn't understand that sentence. >listen You hear nothing unexpected. >s Market Square Your time in the desert dulled your senses with merciless repetition, moon and star light casting a bland, monotone glow on the landscape during your travel by night, the plain yellow sand reflecting the glaring sun while you rested during the heat of the day. Entering Market Square, you are met with a kaleidoscope of sensations painful to your raw faculties. Spicy aromas remind you that you haven't eaten anything but dried fruit and salted meat for thirty days, but you are keen that if you ate any of these rich stews or sticky, spiced rices right now, they would likely make you sick. Hungry though you are, you know that you need rest before you can continue your search, or enjoy any of the pleasures of the magnificent city. Time to find an inn or a boarding house, and for once in a long while, a comfortable bed. Looking beyond the busy stalls and noisy merchants, you see a narrow alleyway to the east; south is a road that runs along the market's border; and to the west, the market ends at a wall with a gate, beyond which rises the steeple of a squat stone church. >l Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. Exotic scents and intriguing sights abound, but it's all a bit too dizzying in your fatigued state after your long journey; it's time to find an inn or a boarding house where you can rest for the night. Looking beyond the busy stalls and noisy merchants, you see a narrow alleyway to the east; south is a road that runs along the market's border; and to the west, the market ends at a wall with a gate, beyond which rises the steeple of a squat stone church. >x sights You can't see any such thing. >x stalls There's a lot going on in the market today, but your fatigue after the long journey through the desert is starting to weigh in on you. Better to find an inn and explore Market Square in the morning, after you are refreshed by a good night's sleep. >w Outside the Cemetery Wall Between Market Square and a cemetery here there is a very old stone wall. The barrier extends above the stones with thick, rusted iron bars, six or eight inches apart, each topped with a fat, triangular spike. There is a solid iron gate on rusted hinges, flanked by a crimson shrub on one side and a prickly bush on the other, each growing out of its own large planter. Beyond the gate to the west appears to be a small burial ground outside a chapel. East is Market Square. >x shurb You can't see any such thing. >x shrug You can't see any such thing. >x shrub Someone must be taking care of the colorful plant, it looks pruned and groomed. >* lol I didn't understand that sentence. >prune it Cutting it up would achieve little. >* nice I didn't understand that sentence. >x bush You take a closer look at the prickly bush and see a tarnished brass key pushed into the soil at the trunk of the spiky plant. >x key A tarnished brass key that looks as old as the ancient gate that it unlocks. >take it As carefully as you can, you reach your hand into the bush to snatch the key. The thorns hidden in the flowers are quite sharp and keep stinging your hand, but eventually you are able to extract the key with only a little bit of blood resulting from the scratches. (You suffer 1 hit point of damage.) >* eek I didn't understand that sentence. >x key A tarnished brass key that looks as old as the ancient gate that it unlocks. >l Outside the Cemetery Wall Between Market Square and a cemetery here there is a very old stone wall. The barrier extends above the stones with thick, rusted iron bars, six or eight inches apart, each topped with a fat, triangular spike. There is a solid iron gate on rusted hinges, flanked by a crimson shrub on one side and a prickly bush on the other, each growing out of its own large planter. Beyond the gate to the west appears to be a small burial ground outside a chapel. East is Market Square. >n You can't go that way. >x gate A heavy iron gate is set in the center of the wall separating Market Square from a cemetery outside a chapel. >unlock gate What do you want to unlock the solid iron gate with? >key You unlock the solid iron gate. >open gate You open the solid iron gate. >w Cemetery Although much of the architecture you see around Dol Bannath is odd and foreign to you, this yard next to a chapel is unmistakably a burial ground. Tombstones of varying sizes mark burial plots organized in rows, and the presence of flowers at some of the graves suggest many buried here are regularly visited by their surviving persons. The chapel is west, and to the east, beyond an iron gate set into an ancient stone wall bordering the cemetery, you hear the sounds of Market Square. >x tombstones There are a few interesting tombstones here. Most look like whomever lies before them was buried a long time ago. You step up to a random grave and read the epitaph: Rest in Peace Dear Uncle Lester: He spent his days drinking and abusing his liver He never left the house, then one day he got sober He went out to look for what life had to offer He started with fishing, and drowned in the river. >x flowers You can't see any such thing. >x tombstones Another tombstone reads: In memory of Clumsy Clem: In battle he fell, but he won't be getting back up this time. >w Chapel This humble stone building has a high steeple that supports a large iron religious symbol. The building looks to have stood here for perhaps centuries, showing an age far beyond any other structure you have seen in this part of Dol Bannath. Once inside, you are taken in by the reverent quiet that possesses the place. Wooden pews line the floor facing a raised dais that supports a pulpit, behind which is a large statue of a saintly looking figure. The main entrance is two large, arched, oaken doors, fronted by stone steps on the outside; Ten Flowers Road leads southeast from here. Another exit, to the east, is a small door that leads to a reasonably well groomed yard, dotted with gravestones. A man sits on a wooden stool at a writing table to the left of the dais. He is dressed in a robe and chapeau, both decorated in a ceremonial fashion. This cleric seems engrossed in the dusty tome before him. He scratches his beard and turns the page, takes up a feather quill and scribbles a note onto a leaf of parchment beside the tome. A few moments after you enter, he lifts his old gray eyes to you for a moment, smiling briefly before returning to his reading. >l Chapel The chapel is quiet, with wooden pews lining the floor facing a raised dais and a pulpit. Behind the pulpit is a large statue of a saintly looking figure. The main entrance is two large oaken doors; through them to the southeast is Ten Flowers Road. A smaller door to the east leads to the cemetery. The cleric is at his table studying a dusty old tome. >x symbol You can't see any such thing. >x pews The pews are as old as the building itself, worn at their edges and corners, their stain faded in the places where worshipers have sat countless times over the centuries. >x dais The dais is a raised platform supporting the pulpit, implicitly granting authority over spectators in the pews to whomever should take their place behind the speaking podium. >x statue The figure depicted wears a flowing robe, with a cane in one hand, and blank eyes that stare vacantly, straight ahead. You read about this revered fellow in college: it is Herbeus, the blind saint. >x doors You can't see any such thing. >x tome You're guessing that would be the driest, most boring text you could possibly put before your eyes. >x table The table is plain, but looks to be of solid construction, and has probably been sat at for hundreds of years. The cleric sits at the table now as he studies a dusty tome. Next to his elbow are a feather quill, an inkwell, and a leaf of parchment where he's scribbled some notes. >x cleric The cleric looks placid in his concentration as he studies his dusty tome. >x parchment It would be rude to look over the cleric's shoulder and read what he is writing. >talk to cleric You eye the cleric and see that he is quite consumed by his studies. Best not to disturb him until you have something of substance to talk about. >s You can't go that way. >out But you aren't in anything at the moment. >se Ten Flowers Road This handsome avenue edging the southern border of Market Square is shaded by tall trees that reach out over the street, their bushy crowns overhead creating a patched tunnel of foliage. Across the street from the entrance to the market is a curious creature about four feet tall with green skin, large pointed ears, and a honking snout sprouting boldly from his face. He is a goblin, a creature only of legend back in Mourdrascus. From what you know about them, they prefer mountains and forests, and abhor the desert. This is the first one you've ever seen. His face is painted white, with black and red accents around his eyes and mouth, and he stands on a brightly painted crate in a comical little outfit, juggling five bean bags. A clown, there is no denying it. A few spectators are gathered around him, silently watching his concentration. Looking east, you see that the road ends at a T-intersection with a wider thoroughfare, in the other direction, the road curves northwest and meets the chapel you visited. You can also enter Market Square to the north from here. >x goblin The clown is intently concentrating on his juggling. The five bags of beans rotate through his hands skillfully as he tosses them high up in the air with one hand and catches them with the other. Next to his crate is a copper bowl for donations. It is mostly empty. >x beans You can't see any such thing. >x bowl Sadly, the clown's donation bowl is rather empty. >donate I didn't understand that sentence. >put money in bowl You can't see any such thing. >put coin in bowl You can't see any such thing. >i You are carrying: a tarnished brass cemetery key forty-two gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 14 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 2. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >put gold in bowl The clown's concentration remains resolutely focused on his juggling. But for just a flash second, you think you might have seen the briefest glint of gratitude for your charity in his eyes. Or did you? >talk to goblin You step through the small crowd of spectators and start to speak to the performer. Immediately the clown loses his concentration, and all his juggling bags fall onto the street around his perch. There is a hushed gasp that comes from the spectators watching, and the clown stands for a moment on his painted crate, regarding you silently, not really looking angry; just sad. He steps off the tiny stage, muttering quietly to himself in a language you can't understand. He gathers up his five little bags, climbs back up on the crate, and starts juggling again. The spectators give you a look that is a bit nasty, and then turn their attention back to the clown. >* oops I didn't understand that sentence. >l Ten Flowers Road This handsome avenue edging the southern border of Market Square is shaded by tall trees that reach out over the street, their bushy crowns overhead creating a patched tunnel of foliage. Across the street from the entrance to the market is a curious creature about four feet tall with green skin, large pointed ears, and a honking snout sprouting boldly from his face. He is a goblin, a creature only of legend back in Mourdrascus. From what you know about them, they prefer mountains and forests, and abhor the desert. This is the first one you've ever seen. His face is painted white, with black and red accents around his eyes and mouth, and he stands on a brightly painted crate in a comical little outfit, juggling five bean bags. A clown, there is no denying it. A few spectators are gathered around him, silently watching his concentration. Looking east, you see that the road ends at a T-intersection with a wider thoroughfare, in the other direction, the road curves northwest and meets the chapel you visited. You can also enter Market Square to the north from here. >l Ten Flowers Road This handsome avenue edging the southern border of Market Square is shaded by tall trees that reach out over the street, their bushy crowns overhead creating a patched tunnel of foliage. Across the street from the entrance to the market is a curious creature about four feet tall with green skin, large pointed ears, and a honking snout sprouting boldly from his face. He is a goblin, a creature only of legend back in Mourdrascus. From what you know about them, they prefer mountains and forests, and abhor the desert. This is the first one you've ever seen. His face is painted white, with black and red accents around his eyes and mouth, and he stands on a brightly painted crate in a comical little outfit, juggling five bean bags. A clown, there is no denying it. A few spectators are gathered around him, silently watching his concentration. Looking east, you see that the road ends at a T-intersection with a wider thoroughfare, in the other direction, the road curves northwest and meets the chapel you visited. You can also enter Market Square to the north from here. >x trees You can't see any such thing. >e Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >x sea From here you can see, well off the coast of Dol Bannath, in the expanse of the red-hued Copper Sea, a few shadowy islands in the haze at the horizon. You have heard of the archipelago out there, where there are perhaps a hundred spots of land beyond those visible, both big and small, all with idyllic tropical weather, and many of them deserted, with untouched landscapes of lush and wild beauty. >x merchant East of you, a carriage decorated in a lively fashion is parked under the shade of a bowlax tree at the side of the road. A smiling merchant is in attendance, inviting passersby to browse his modest assortment of goods. Perhaps this roving vendor is worth a quick look. >x tree East of you, a carriage decorated in a lively fashion is parked under the shade of a bowlax tree at the side of the road. A smiling merchant is in attendance, inviting passersby to browse his modest assortment of goods. Perhaps this roving vendor is worth a quick look. >x merchant East of you, a carriage decorated in a lively fashion is parked under the shade of a bowlax tree at the side of the road. A smiling merchant is in attendance, inviting passersby to browse his modest assortment of goods. Perhaps this roving vendor is worth a quick look. >x goods You can't see any such thing. >x vendor You can't see any such thing. >talk to vendor You can't see any such thing. >talk to merchant The vendor's traveling shop is too far away. >x shop East of you, a carriage decorated in a lively fashion is parked under the shade of a bowlax tree at the side of the road. A smiling merchant is in attendance, inviting passersby to browse his modest assortment of goods. Perhaps this roving vendor is worth a quick look. >e Mufstasa's Deals A traveling merchant has parked his carriage along Grand Port Avenue, under the shade of a towering bowlax tree. The operation may or may not be legal, given what you know about the bureaucracy in Dol Bannath when it comes to doing business in the city, but the merchant trading his possessions here appears to be as honest as anyone else, as far as you're concerned. He wears a handsome, colorful outfit, and smiles dashingly in greeting when you approach. After a quick perusal of what he his offering, however, you see that he has nothing you are interested in buying. You can leave Mufstasa's shop by going west from here. >x merchant An older man with a leathered face, the merchant has the kindest eyes and most pleasant bearing of anyone you have ever met on this side of the Infinite Sands. If only he could accompany you on your journey? But come now, that's ridiculous. >x wares You can't see any such thing. >x goods You can't see any such thing. >talk to merchant "Not interested in buying, eh traveler?" he says. His eyes quickly size up your apparel and equipment. "Well, I'll make you a fair offer, if you have anything you'd like to sell." >w Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >s The sea looks gorgeous, and you are keen to explore the port, but there must be a place around here where you can get some rest before you do any more exploring. >n Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses, and it relieves you to see the familiar token on a few signs hanging outside the buildings here: the small rendering of a bed, carved into the wooden placards along with some other pictures and symbols. It soothes your weary thoughts to see that you can rent a room for the night at one of these places, and finally get some much needed rest. As the sun begins to sink behind the wood and brick buildings, you see one of the guesthouses has a welcoming torch aflame next to its front door; the other lodgings are similarly marked by a torch, but all are unlit. You presume those have no vacancy. The inn with the lit torch has a sign showing a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel, and it is to the east. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >x palace The avenue leads uphill to the north, where you see an imposing wall of immense proportions. Barely peeking out from behind it are the very tops of a few tall spires and stone towers. >w Narrow Alley. Perhaps down this alleyway you can find an inexpensive boarding house with an available bed, you wonder? You enter the shadowed lane, finding it to be little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel, and a solitary figure, in a dark cloak with a hood drawn over his face, sitting on the back stoop of one of the buildings. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. > I beg your pardon? >x cat Where you come from, cats are furry, delightful, four-legged creatures of mischief. But the ratty feline you see here is not one of those. This disturbing little creature has tiny antlers, small round ears, and a creepy little eye on the back of its head. It is sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. >x figure The cloaked figure is sitting on a low stoop at the back door of one of the buildings. He appears to be fiddling with some small thing in his hands. >x thing The cloaked figure has something in his hands, is it flashing? Is it made of metal? Is it a blade? >talk to figure You open your mouth and are about to speak, but the cloaked figure shifts where he sits in a certain kind of way, and gives you a particular sort of look from the shadow of his hood, which altogether unsettles you. And you decide you'd rather not engage him in conversation after all. >e You start on your way when suddenly the cloaked figure is up on his feet, and you see the unmistakable flash of a steel blade in his hand as he approaches you menacingly. From within the shadow cast over his face by the hood of his cloak, you see a greasy smile. "What's the hurry, stranger?" comes the human's gravelly voice. "That's a fat purse you have there, and a nice new set of armor you're wearing. I'll try not to damage it too much before I take it off of your corpse!" You turn and square up the ruffian. "So, criminal, you intend to murder and rob me, eh? Not so fast!" you say, and you take a firm grip of your weapon by its hilt. "I am a Poet and a Warrior, and now you will know the bite of my blade and the blast of my Rhymes!" You recall your training in Poetry and War, steel your wits, and get ready to battle the cloaked ruffian! Will you ATTACK with your dagger, RECITE a mystical Rhyme, or FLEE? Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > recite Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 ! Combat Round 1: Dizziness threatens as you recall your training and start to summon the awesome power of your Rhyme. Overhead, foreboding clouds suddenly gather and emit blinding flashes of lightning -- a great and instantaneous storm of electricity caused by the mysterious forces at your command. The cloaked ruffian is momentarily startled by the surprising change in the weather, and there is fear in their gaze as they train their eyes on you, uncertain of what is about to be called upon them. When you release your awesome Poetry, your voice seems to come from everywhere at once: "Pease porridge hot..." The cloaked ruffian reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, taking 5 hit points of damage, leaving them with 5. The cloaked ruffian attacks you with their chipped knife: a roll of 16 with attack rank 8 -- a hit! But your armor absorbed the damage! You have 14 hit points left. Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 !! Combat Round 2: A crack of thunder startles the cloaked ruffian as you lift your arms high and summon the mysterious, mystical power that infuses your dangerous Rhyme. The ground trembles beneath your feet, magical energy crackling around you as you rumble a ragged noise from your core that quakes along your esophagus, clearing your throat before you begin. When you release the first sound, your voice comes as a shrill beast of destruction -- a fearsome serpent of murder -- a harbinger of death! Your terrible voice announces: "Little Jack Horner..." The cloaked ruffian reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, taking 6 hit points of damage, leaving them with -1. You have defeated the cloaked ruffian! >l Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >x ruffian You can't see any such thing. >x corpse The face of the man you killed looks peaceful in demise. His dead body slumps against the wall near a sewage barrel, where he collapsed when you defeated him. His leather satchel is stained with blood. His chipped knife lays on the ground near him. You wonder if you should hide the body to keep yourself out of trouble, but the alley is shrouded in shadows already, the corpse is mostly hidden from view, and no one seems to have noticed the evidence of your skirmish. >search robber The face of the man you killed looks peaceful in demise. His dead body slumps against the wall near a sewage barrel, where he collapsed when you defeated him. His leather satchel is stained with blood. His chipped knife lays on the ground near him. You wonder if you should hide the body to keep yourself out of trouble, but the alley is shrouded in shadows already, the corpse is mostly hidden from view, and no one seems to have noticed the evidence of your skirmish. >x knife An imperfect weapon with a chipped blade, useful only if you had nothing else at your disposal. (This weapon does 2-4 damage.) >x satchel The dead robber's bloodstained satchel is closed. You see that there is a hole where the satchel's seams are coming apart; that must have happened during the battle. The purse is useless now. It also looks flaccid and empty, but there might be a little something in there. >open it You open the bloodstained leather satchel, revealing the dead ruffian's polished key. >take ke You can't see any such thing. >take poished You can't see any such thing. >take polished Taken. >x it This little key was in the satchel carried by the robber who accosted you in the alleyway near Market Square. It might open a padlock, or perhaps a lockbox for jewelry or some other small valuables. >l Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >x cat Where you come from, cats are furry, delightful, four-legged creatures of mischief. But the ratty feline you see here is not one of those. This disturbing little creature has tiny antlers, small round ears, and a creepy little eye on the back of its head. It is sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. >pet cat I didn't understand that sentence. >x rubble A disgusting pile of rubble. >search it Yuck! No thanks. >take cat The weird little creature is not coming with you. >e Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >n Palace Gate Grand Port Avenue's northern direction steadily climbs to the highest vantage point in the city, where it comes to the walls and main gate of the presidential palace to the north. Looking south down the avenue from here, the view is spectacular, with all the bustle of the city laid out before you, and the scintillating coast line of the Copper Sea beyond, shimmering in its characteristic reddish, metallic hue. The walls surrounding the palace are massively high and imposing, and the palace gate itself is a monstrous feat of engineering constructed of a solid iron frame and a decorative web of sturdy iron paneling that, as you've heard, is a storyboard mosaic depicting some of the earliest stories in the history of the ancient city. The gate is fronted by a deep moat and a wide, thick, wooden drawbridge. The gate is closed. The drawbridge is down, and where it meets the terminus of Grand Port Avenue, a soldier in brightly colored regalia stands chatting with a uniformed official of some variety or another. You wander near them idly and listen in on their conversation. "Well, Constable," the guard is saying, "the Sergeant has always had good things to say about you. And I'm on your side. It couldn't be less fair for President Creatius to strip your force of most of its deputies, and then blame you for --" "-- and not just the deputies," the Constable interrupts, his tone incredulous. "Clerks, desk lieutenants...I'm up to my neck in paperwork. Cleaning staff!" The guard nods supportively. "Believe me, if the Palace Guard had any spare manpower to put on the streets and bring down the crime running rampant in this city, I'd be all for it. But we're as strapped as you are, Constable. President Creatius doesn't seem to care." The Constable scoffs. "You and I both know the Guard has plenty of spare manpower. The President won't let them leave the palace walls, because he's a --" Before the Constable can say anything scandalous, the guard taps him on the arm and makes a subtle gesture toward you, and reluctantly but purposefully, the Constable shuts his trap. Then he takes a longer look at you, noting your equipment, and says, "You there! You don't look like an ordinary tourist here for the Market Festival. What do you say for yourself? What's brought you to Dol Bannath?" As you step closer to speak, the guard looks at you too, with a demeanor that is somewhat more respectful. "That," he informs the Constable, "is a Warrior Poet, from Mourdrascus, unless I'm mistaken." The Constable's brow lifts in surprise. "A Warrior Poet? Really?" Something about his tone offends you mildly. Perhaps, you think to yourself, you should show him what you're made of, with a little Mary Had a Little Lamb, or maybe hit him with some Little Jack Horner. That would teach him. "That is correct," you announce, "I am a Poet and a Warrior, trained in the ancient arts by respected Masters of my discipline, from the fabled College of Myth and Legend." Fabled is a strong word, but you use it. The Constable's face is stoic and betrays little. "Well," he says, "Warrior Poet, if you come across any criminal activity while visiting Dol Bannath, and you'd like to stretch your vocal cords, we're offering a reward for any information that leads to an arrest. Just speak with Guardsman Riptorius here, when he's on duty. He can collect the information, and pay you for it." The Constable and Guardsman Riptorius exchange parting glances, and the Constable strides off across the drawbridge, disappearing through the gate, which opens just enough to let him through and then clangs shut again. >talk to guard Guardsman Riptorius returns your greeting solemnly. "Remember, Warrior Poet," he says, "if you come across any useful information about criminal activity in the city -- leading to an arrest -- I would like to hear it. I may be able to pay you." You consider bringing up the violence you have been involved in, but then, there is no one to arrest, except perhaps yourself, so for now you decide to keep quiet about it. You also consider mentioning that traveling merchant, but you might want to sell something to him later, so you say nothing about him either. >l Palace Gate The presidential palace, surrounded by massively high and imposing walls, is here at the top of Grand Port Avenue. The view from here is spectacular, with all the bustle of the city laid out in a panorama below, and the scintillating coast line of the Copper Sea beyond, shimmering in its characteristic reddish, metallic hue. A wide, wooden drawbridge is down over a deep moat around the walls of the palace, and at this end of the bridge stands Guardsman Riptorius. At the northern end, the huge iron palace gate with its intricate mosaic blocks the only way into the palace compound. As the Constable noted when you first arrived at the palace gate, if you have any information about criminal activity in Dol Bannath (leading to an arrest), you can talk to the guard about it, and perhaps collect a reward. >x palace The impenetrable walls around the presidential palace rise at least a hundred feet toward the sky, and only a few of the tallest spires and towers from inside the compound peek out above them from your vantage point. >x guardsman Guardsman Riptorius stands at the end of the drawbridge that leads to the imposing palace gate, looking alert. >x mosaic The heavy gate of sturdy iron is wrought with intertwining imagery of legendary figures and events from the early history of the city. In one part of the mosaic, camel riding lancers duel before the earliest city royals in the first Market Festival many hundreds of years ago. >s Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >e Resting Laurel Inn The lobby of the Resting Laurel Inn is warm and welcoming, with a few plush furnishings laid out for lounging before a large, brick fireplace. Along one wall is a reception desk, but no one seems to be attending it at the moment. A well-lit corridor is to the east, with several doors opening off of it. The exit, to Grand Port Avenue, is to the west. On the reception desk are a brass bell and a printed flyer. >x desk The reception desk is a counter of polished wood, taking up space along one wall of the lobby. No one is behind the desk. On the reception desk are a brass bell and a printed flyer. >x flyer A printed flyer, advertising rooms at the guest house for visitors of the Dol Bannath Market Festival. Apparently, you have come to the city during this event, which promises lively entertainment and exotic vendors not found during the Market's usual operations. No wonder the guesthouses are all full; according to the flyer, visitors from near and far arrive in Dol Bannath for the Market Festival. Perhaps after a good night's rest, you'll sacrifice a bit of time from your search to return to the Market and see some of these things for yourself. >x bell A shiny brass bell with a small button on top, waiting to be rung. >ring bell The bell rings with a clear, piercing sound. After a few moments, emerging from a narrow doorway behind the desk comes a young lady with a bright disposition wearing a green tunic and black, billowing trousers. She smiles and says, "Welcome to the Resting Laurel Inn! We have one room left, and the rate is 5 gold pieces, if you're interested." Would you like to rent a room at the Resting Laurel Inn for 5 pieces of gold? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >y You hand over the gold pieces. The receptionist thanks you and hands you a room key; it has the number 6 stamped into it. "Your room is just down the hallway there, at the end, on the left. You'll find fresh water and a warm towel waiting for you; enjoy your stay!" With that, she excuses herself and disappears back through the door behind the reception counter. >e Guest Room Corridor The guest room doors are lined along each side of this well lit corridor. Your room, guest room six, is to the north. To the west is the lobby. You can see a guest room door here. >unlock door What do you want to unlock the guest room door with? >i You are carrying: a room key the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key thirty-six gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 14 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 2. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >unlock door with room key You unlock the guest room door. >s You can't go that way. >n (first opening the guest room door) Your guest room is small and simple, but certainly cozy enough, and the moment you close and lock the door behind you, fatigue from your travels hits you like a camel's kick. You set your pack down next to the bed, and hardly have the energy to rinse your face and hands and have a drink of water. The cool water feels good on your face, though, and the moist towel, sitting on top of a wood burning furnace, relieves you with its warmth even more after you disrobe and clean some sweat and grime from your skin. You find that the bed is soft and comfortable, and you're asleep the moment you lower your head onto the pillow. You sleep deeply, and awaken refreshed and invigorated. In fact, with a brand new day ahead of you, the prospect of searching Dol Bannath for some clue about Professor Zylock seems almost hopeful. Your stay includes a breakfast of mogwai eggs baked in a tortoise shell with tengo root, grilled asobi fish, a side of tremor fruit, and hot black coffee, all delivered on a tray to your room in the morning by a smiling attendant. You consume the meal heartily. After finishing, you take up your pack, leave the room and lock the door behind you. Back in the lobby, again the reception desk is unattended; but you notice, next to the flyer, a narrow slot for returning room keys. You drop your key in. (You are now at maximum health.) << press any key >> Resting Laurel Inn The lobby of the Resting Laurel Inn is warm and welcoming, with a few plush furnishings laid out for lounging before a large, brick fireplace. Along one wall is a reception desk, but no one seems to be attending it at the moment. A well-lit corridor is to the east, with several doors opening off of it. The exit, to Grand Port Avenue, is to the west. On the reception desk are a brass bell and a printed flyer. >w Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >save Ok. >w Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >x barrel A few of these sanitation barrels dot the alley. A pulley mechanism seems to enable second and third floors of these buildings to lower waste containers down and deposit their filthy contents into the barrels. From here no stench reaches your nostrils, suggesting the barrels have some kind of stench containing quality, but you'd rather not get any closer to investigate. >search barrels You find nothing of interest. >w Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. Of the many stalls vying for your attention (and coin), a few in particular stand out. To the northwest, a small mob of onlookers crowds up to a loose barrier fronting the blazing forge of a master craftsman. Meanwhile, it is from a fragrant food stall to the northeast where the most sublime aromas arrive to tantalize your nose. And, last but not least of interest to you is a large colorful tent to the southeast, constructed using a material that departs from the drab, heavy canvas used by most stalls in Market Square. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >nw Blazing Forge of Hadiqor Zamarouk The fiery heat of Hadiqor Zamarouk's furnace penetrates the crowd watching the renowned artisan in his temporary smithy. The blacksmith swings a great weighty hammer down, clanging like a bell repeatedly onto the glowing hot blade of what is surely soon to become a magnificent sword. Sparks fly from each impact as he flattens the flame softened steel against a large, soot covered anvil. To one side of the blacksmith's stall is a wood display case, its glass top revealing a few completed works that are for sale. Behind it, a young apprentice waits to serve potential customers. The rest of the busy market invites you back to its menagerie of sounds to the southeast. >x blacksmith The master craftsman wears canvas work pants and a leather apron, his otherwise naked torso glistening with a sheen of sweat. He is hard at work, his features displaying a focus and concentration that defy the presence of the many onlookers. >x case On display in the case are a number of ornamental pieces -- small daggers and utility knives, some delicate chains and necklace pieces, and a ring or two. Considering the reputation of the blacksmith as a maker of legendary weapons and armor, you're a bit surprised that most of what's for sale here is just for decoration. And as you have learned so far, your mission is a dangerous one. So, though one of these trinkets might make a nice keepsake, you cannot waste your scant funds on souvenir shopping when Professor Zylock is still at large with the Mantablasphere. There is something of interest here, however. Your eyes are drawn to a beautiful curved scimitar with a jeweled hilt and next to it, a smooth and shiny bronze buckler that reflects the flickering fire of the furnace in its polished edges. >x scimitar Bearing the stamp of the master himself at the end of this handsome blade's pommel, this curved scimitar forged by Hadiqor Zamarouk is a formidable weapon indeed, with decorative jewels near its hilt, perfectly balanced and weighted for precise combat. Its price is 25 gold pieces. (This weapon does 4-9 damage.) >x buckler This round buckler is about the size of a serving plate, with a sturdy leather grip fastened to its concave side, making for excellent additional protection when employed adroitly in the off hand. Its price is 10 gold pieces. (This item provides protection 1 during battle, but you must be wearing it.) >buy it You hand over 10 gold pieces for the shiny buckler. >wear buckler You put on the shiny buckler. >se Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; a fragrant food stall, to the northeast; and to the southeast, a large colorful tent. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >ne Zahareen's Fine Foods A fast moving line of customers is queued up to partake of the scrumptious dishes offered by Chef Zahareen at her market stall. The tantalizing bouquet of aromas produced by her gourmet offerings has your mouth watering when you survey the succulent choices available: charred ribs of marinated antlerbeast; a trio of lakefish dumplings with grated sheckle root and leopard pepper sauce; a wilted sabreleaf salad with spindle fronds and whampus berries; and a slice of shumpert pie. The chef herself is here, behind a wide table displaying her enticing culinary creations. She smiles warmly and chats in a neighborly fashion with her customers while packaging up these delights for them. When you are done here, the rest of the Market thrives to the southwest. >x ribs The fat still crackles when the chef lifts one of these juicy ribs from the coals and folds it into thick to-go wrapping of dried saurbark. Its price is 5 gold pieces. >x dumplings Only the best and freshest fish from the Copper Sea make it into Zahareen's seafood dumplings. Its price is 5 gold pieces. >x pie Chef Zahareen herself invented shumpert pie, and no one has ever matched the perfect balance of remarkable flavors she achieves with her secret recipe. Its price is 5 gold pieces. >x chew You can't see any such thing. >x chef The famous chef wears a red apron over a cream colored blouse with billowing sleeves. Her dark hair is tied up in a bun. "Marinated for 36 hours," she tells a customer about the antlerbeast. >talk to chef Your turn comes up and the chef's selections are arrayed before you. You exchange a few pleasantries with Zahareen, trying not to look too eager. You are aware that there is a special cosmic interconnectedness between those who, like yourself, are capable of harnessing the universe's magical energies, and the invigorating power of food that has been prepared with the highest level of artistry and skill, such as Chef Zahareen possesses. Any one of these nutritious creations would do wonders for your body and soul should you be fatigued or injured. >se You can't go that way. >sw Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; Zahareen's Fine Foods, to the northeast; and to the southeast, a large colorful tent. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >se Oasis of Dreams The chaotic bustle of Market Square outside the Oasis of Dreams is quieted pleasantly by the heavy curtains at its entry. Inside this warmly lit haven, you are soothed by a subtle herbal fragrance, and your ears are enchanted by a soft, wandering melody. The beautiful song is weaved by a silver skinned elf musician seated on silk pillows and colorful blankets, plucking away skillfully on a delicate stringed instrument and singing sweetly with an intoxicating timbre that sounds like liquid glass. Another elf, who could be the musician's twin, sits on a stool beside a copper till. The elf shopkeeper smiles to you, welcomingly. A surprisingly small selection of wares are on display in this comfortable, circular space, each singular item sitting on its own low pedestal for viewing, protected beneath a pristine crystal dome. Two other shoppers browse idly around, taking time to examine the beauty of each intriguing artifact on display before moving onto the next one, reminding you of an afternoon spent in the fine art museum back at the University of Mourdrascus. You can leave the Oasis of Dreams by going northwest, back to Market Square. You can see Ring of the Ebon Flame, Johydee's Mask, an Orb of the Dragon, and an unblemished Sauridian ornament here. >x ring The Ring of the Ebon Flame: you are familiar with this item, and seeing it before your eyes sends a shiver rippling through your flesh. Fashioned about one hundred years ago by a renowned Wordsmith, this ring saps energy from the cosmos and focuses it into the mystical power of a Poet's magic Rhymes. If only you could afford it... Its price is 500 gold pieces. (This item makes your Poetry more deadly with a bonus of +3, but you must be wearing it.) >x mask In your Senior seminar on Artifacts and Relics, you studied many powerful creations that exist throughout the known world, and a few legendary items that have either been lost to the ages or may have only ever been myths. You recognize this one: it is Johydee's Mask, once imbued with the power to transform its wearer's face unmistakably into that of someone else. Throughout history it was used for evil purposes, until a court wizard named Feldwyn sucked the magic out of it a few hundred years ago. It remains a unique and valuable collectible. Its price is 75000 gold pieces. >x irb You can't see any such thing. >x orb The textbook for your Artifacts and Relics seminar listed seven different types of Orbs of the Dragon, though it is possible that more exist. Each gives its bearer remarkable power over a particular subspecies of Dragon. The ruby decoration on this item tells you it is attuned to Red Dragons -- fire breathers. Once the most common Dragon in existence, they are the rarest to be found these days. Its price is 1750 gold pieces. >x ornament On one display stand is a striking looking item indeed. Constructed using an otherworldly material that changes colors constantly due to some unknown chemical property, you recognize it as a Sauridian antiquity. These mysterious objects all originate from the small continent of Syborea, a great distance from here across the Copper Sea. They are rare in these lands, and highly collectible. This one is the shape of a regular octahedron, about the size of two fists, and you are mesmerized as you watch the shifting colors and fantastical patterns that animate each of its eight sides. It is priced at 500 gold pieces. Another customer, the small, green-skinned goblin, quietly examines the ornament. >x goblin The short, green-skinned goblin has a great, protruding snout, and large, pointed ears. She browses around a pedestal displaying a fine example of Sauridian antiquity, and what's more, you notice that a pendant hanging from a delicate chain necklace around her throat is unmistakably a small Sauridian artifact. She must be a collector. >x pendant The goblin's pendant glows in shifting colors and patterns in the way of all Sauridian artifacts. >talk to goblin You give the green goblin a friendly smile and she nods in return, but you can't think of any subject you'd like to discuss with her just now. >talk to elf Who do you mean, the elf musician or the elf shopkeeper? >musician The elf musician is not interested in conversation. >talk to shopkeeper The shopkeeper is very enjoyable to talk to, and before you know it you have spent the better part of an hour being bewitched by stories of her travels throughout the world, collecting and selling rare and valuable artifacts and curiosities. She's been everywhere, and seen more things than you imagine you will ever see in your short lifetime; she, after all, is several hundred years old, and will live hundreds more. Eventually you reveal to her your mission, and at the mention of the Mantablasphere, you see the first hint of emotion cross the elf's perfectly contoured, silver toned face. What that emotion was, you're not quite sure. Envy? Opportunity? Curiosity? Greed? It's impossible to say. "In times past," she tells you, "Warrior Poets were plenty. I myself had one in my employ for a time. But your profession is not so common anymore, especially outside of Mourdrascus." You nod gravely. "It takes a certain innate talent to summon the mystical power behind my explosive Poetry," you inform her matter-of-factly. "You must be born with it, as I was. As time goes on, the number born with abilities has waned. No one is sure of the reason. Now my school's days are likely numbered, and there will be fewer of us still." "All the more reason I am pleased to have met you, Mourdrascan," she replies. "I imagine in your future adventures, you may come across some rare and interesting artifacts out in the world. If you do, seek me out where I travel, I can make it worth your while. That includes your Mantablasphere..." You notice something passes behind her eyes for a split second, when she mentions the Department's stolen artifact again. "As a gesture of good faith, I will offer you a steep discount on something I have in my shop that you may be interested in. Have a look at that ring over there. 500 pieces of gold is its price, but for you, I will ask a mere 30 pieces of gold. I hope you will make the trade. It will serve as a reminder that your fortune can improve significantly by doing business with me." You thank the shopkeeper of the Oasis of Dreams and ensure her that you will seriously consider her offer. >x ring 30 pieces of gold for the Ring of the Ebon Flame! You are familiar with this item, and seeing it before your eyes sends a shiver rippling through your flesh. Fashioned about one hundred years ago by a renowned Wordsmith, this ring saps energy from the cosmos and focuses it into the mystical power of a Poet's magic Rhymes. Its price is 30 gold pieces. (This item makes your Poetry more deadly with a bonus of +3, but you must be wearing it.) >i You are carrying: a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key twenty-six gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 15 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >s You can't go that way. >e You can't go that way. >out But you aren't in anything at the moment. >nw Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; Zahareen's Fine Foods, to the northeast; and to the southeast, the calm serenity of the Oasis of Dreams beckons. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >s Ten Flowers Road This handsome avenue edging the southern border of Market Square is shaded by tall trees that reach out over the street, their bushy crowns overhead creating a patched tunnel of foliage. Across the street from the entrance to the market is a curious creature about four feet tall with green skin, large pointed ears, and a honking snout sprouting boldly from his face. He is a goblin, like the one you saw in the Oasis of Dreams in Market Square. They are rare even in Dol Bannath, you presume, having seen no others among the city folk. His face is painted white, with black and red accents around his eyes and mouth, and he stands on a brightly painted crate in a comical little outfit, juggling five bean bags. A clown, there is no denying it. A few spectators are gathered around him, silently watching his concentration. Looking east, you see that the road ends at a T-intersection with a wider thoroughfare, in the other direction, the road curves northwest and meets the chapel you visited. You can also enter Market Square to the north from here. >w You can't go that way. >nw Chapel The chapel is quiet, with wooden pews lining the floor facing a raised dais and a pulpit. Behind the pulpit is a large statue of a saintly looking figure. The main entrance is two large oaken doors; through them to the southeast is Ten Flowers Road. A smaller door to the east leads to the cemetery. The cleric is at his table studying a dusty old tome. >talk to cleric You eye the cleric and see that he is quite consumed by his studies. Best not to disturb him until you have something of substance to talk about. >e Cemetery Although much of the architecture you see around Dol Bannath is odd and foreign to you, this yard next to a chapel is unmistakably a burial ground. Tombstones of varying sizes mark burial plots organized in rows, and the presence of flowers at some of the graves suggest many buried here are regularly visited by their surviving persons. The chapel is west, and to the east, beyond an iron gate set into an ancient stone wall bordering the cemetery, you hear the sounds of Market Square. >x tombstones Another tombstone reads: Here lies Two Toes Eddie: Loving husband of Tina Three Toes Generous Father to Club Foot Frank Together they made a complete... family. >e Outside the Cemetery Wall Between Market Square and a cemetery here there is a very old stone wall. The barrier extends above the stones with thick, rusted iron bars, six or eight inches apart, each topped with a fat, triangular spike. There is a solid iron gate on rusted hinges, flanked by a crimson shrub on one side and a prickly bush on the other, each growing out of its own large planter. Beyond the gate to the west appears to be a small burial ground outside a chapel. East is Market Square. >e Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; Zahareen's Fine Foods, to the northeast; and to the southeast, the calm serenity of the Oasis of Dreams beckons. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >e Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >e Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >s Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >e Mufstasa's Deals A traveling merchant has parked his carriage along Grand Port Avenue, under the shade of a towering bowlax tree. A handsome, colorful outfit adorns the merchant selling his possessions here, and his smile is so generous, you can't help but feel welcome. After a quick perusal of what he his offering, however, you see that he has nothing you are interested in buying. You can leave Mufstasa's shop by going west from here. >talk to mufstasa "Not interested in buying, eh traveler?" he says. His eyes quickly size up your apparel and equipment. "Well, I'll make you a fair offer, if you have anything you'd like to sell." >w Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >s Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >i You are carrying: a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key twenty-six gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 15 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >l Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >x merchants Merchants haggle loudly with ship captains in languages you don't understand, bartering over goods that are equally foreign: fruits with spiky skins and pulsing hues, and crates of unidentifiable sea life, their astonishing forms a class of deep ocean wildlife you have never witnessed. >w Dunes Trail This dirt trail winds through high white sand dunes peppered with green shrubs. The breeze from the sea is pleasant and invigorating, and the sound of the surf beyond the barrier of the dunes is calming. Going east, the trail meets a set of rickety wooden steps that climb up to the busy Port of Dol Bannath. The trail extends snakelike going west, curving along between the dunes. >x shrubs Growing out of the sand are these small seaside shrubs, sprouting low to the surface of the dunes as they take in rays of the bright sun overhead and the mist cast over them by the rough surf crashing into the shoreline. >listen You hear nothing unexpected. >w Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. But you are not alone here: a raven haired woman, dressed in thick fur covering, pokes around a mess of seaweed, rotting cloth and damaged wood boxes that has washed up into the cove with the surf. She trains her attention on you when you step out into the open, and takes from her belt a shiny and sharp looking cutlass. Now she is walking toward you with a calm expression on her face, saying nothing, though you get the impression that the cutlass in her hand is saying enough. >undo Dunes Trail [Previous turn undone.] >e Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >e Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >l Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >e Cargo Docks These docks are quieter than where the fishermen land to ply their trade, but the activity here is just as earnest and busy: muscled and shirtless longshoremen join in lines to pull fat ropes connecting to massive crates through squeaking pulleys and high crane arms to load and unload great quantities of goods bound for (or arriving from) foreign lands across the sea; foremen direct tackmasters leading oxen-pulled carts of barrels and baskets and boxes of cargo up gangplanks and into the holds of massive sea-faring vessels preparing for their long voyages ahead. >x crane Large cranes swivel to and fro from the ships' decks to the docks, transferring containers of all sizes on pallets suspended by thick, heavy ropes. >e You can't go that way. >u You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >w Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >n Ticketing Office Inside the ticketing office, the noisy business of the fishing docks is softened to a background hum, riding in on a cooling ocean breeze through a pair of open windows. On the walls hang a number of posters advertising various exciting destinations to be reached sailing the Copper Sea, such as the picturesque bays and coastal mountains to the east, warm vacation destinations among the islands peppering a region of the sea just off the coast to the south, and the fascinating foreign ports of Syborea, Ull Korso, and Pantyr, each a long journey from here across the great ocean. It is crowded in here at the moment, people gathered before the marketing posters and timetables, discussing upcoming journeys, and lined up to purchase tickets. Above the din, you hear a voice with an unmistakable accent -- that of a native of your homeland. You peer among the crowd to find whomever it is that speaks with the recognizable bent of a fellow Mourdrascan, and discover it is the clerk himself, behind the ticketing counter, serving the lined up passengers one by one. The exit is to the south. You can see a Mourdrascan Clerk here. >x clerk Listening to him speak as he books passengers for ship passage on the Copper Sea reminds you of how far you are from your home, Mourdrascus, a grueling 30 day journey away across the Infinite Sands. >talk to clerk The ticketing office is quite busy, and a number of customers stand in the way of you and any opportunity to capture the attention of your countryman. Perhaps you can approach him later, during a quieter time. >w You can't go that way. >s Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >w Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >w Dunes Trail This dirt trail winds through high white sand dunes peppered with green shrubs. The breeze from the sea is pleasant and invigorating, and the sound of the surf beyond the barrier of the dunes is calming. Going east, the trail meets a set of rickety wooden steps that climb up to the busy Port of Dol Bannath. The trail extends snakelike going west, curving along between the dunes. >w Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. But you are not alone here: a raven haired woman, dressed in thick fur covering, pokes around a mess of seaweed, rotting cloth and damaged wood boxes that has washed up into the cove with the surf. She trains her attention on you when you step out into the open, and takes from her belt a shiny and sharp looking cutlass. Now she is walking toward you with a calm expression on her face, saying nothing, though you get the impression that the cutlass in her hand is saying enough. >save Ok. >x woman She's not saying anything, but she is coming toward you with her cutlass out. Apparently, she has claimed this beach, and is willing to fight you to keep it for herself and her mateys. >talk to woman The shifty pirate is not interested in conversation. The pirate and her cutlass inch closer to you. You need to move along, or things are going to turn nasty. >attack woman You recall your training in Poetry and War, steel your wits, and get ready to battle the shifty pirate! Will you ATTACK with your dagger, RECITE a mystical Rhyme, or FLEE? The pirate and her cutlass inch closer to you. You need to move along, or things are going to turn nasty. Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 ! Combat Round 1: Dizziness threatens as you recall your training and start to summon the awesome power of your Rhyme. Overhead, foreboding clouds suddenly gather and emit blinding flashes of lightning -- a great and instantaneous storm of electricity caused by the mysterious forces at your command. The shifty pirate is momentarily startled by the surprising change in the weather, and there is fear in their gaze as they train their eyes on you, uncertain of what is about to be called upon them. When you release your awesome Poetry, your voice seems to come from everywhere at once: "Star light, star bright..." The shifty pirate reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, taking 5 hit points of damage, leaving them with 5. The shifty pirate attacks you with their cutlass: a roll of 17 with attack rank 7 -- a hit! 3 points out of 4 are absorbed by armor, leaving 1 inflicted! You have 14 hit points left. Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 !! Combat Round 2: You raise your dominant hand high above your head and lift your chin regally, closing your eyes as you recall your training. A deafening silence closes in, swallowing up every tiny sound until your heartbeat is a tremendous clamor, your blood coursing through your veins a thunderous river through an echoing canyon. The shifty pirate widens their eyes in horror, momentarily overcome by the same unsettling experience. Before they can make sense of this mystical phenomenon brought on by the mysterious power of your Rhyme, you release the monstrous Verse, sounding out with the force of a howling gale: "Hickory dickory dock..." The shifty pirate reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, taking 4 hit points of damage, leaving them with 1. The shifty pirate attacks you with their cutlass: a roll of 10 with attack rank 7 -- a hit! 3 points out of 6 are absorbed by armor, leaving 3 inflicted! You have 11 hit points left. Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 1 !!! Combat Round 3: You attack the shifty pirate with your dagger: a roll of 7 with attack rank 5 -- a hit! 1 points out of 3 are absorbed by armor, leaving 2 inflicted! The shifty pirate has -1 hit points left. You have defeated the shifty pirate! >x pirate You can't see any such thing. >l Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. A pirate's corpse is here. The smashed boxes and rotting cloth she was interested in before the battle are soaking in the shallows of the tide, wrapped up in a mass of deep green seaweed. You can see some thick fur covering and a cutlass here. >x woman You can't see any such thing. >x corpse The surf sweeps in over the sand and licks at the corpse of the pirate you scuffled with, lying dead on the beach, still bleeding. >search her You can't see 'her' (nothing) at the moment. >search corpse You find nothing of interest. >x covering Made from the skin of some thickly furred beast, this covering looks warm, if not particularly comfortable. (This item provides protection 1 during battle, but you must be wearing it.) >take it That's hardly portable. >wear it (first taking the pirate's corpse) That's hardly portable. >take covering Taken. >wear covering You can only wear one set of armor at a time. >l Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. A pirate's corpse is here. The smashed boxes and rotting cloth she was interested in before the battle are soaking in the shallows of the tide, wrapped up in a mass of deep green seaweed. You can see a cutlass here. >x cutlass A short, broad-bladed sword with a slightly curved edge, traditionally favored by sailors for its versatility and ease of use in close quarters. (This weapon does 3-7 damage.) >i You are carrying: some thick fur covering (protection 1, only applies when wearing it) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key twenty-six gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >take cutlass Taken. >wear it You can't wear that! >i You are carrying: a cutlass (3-7 damage) some thick fur covering (protection 1, only applies when wearing it) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key twenty-six gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >e Dunes Trail This dirt trail winds through high white sand dunes peppered with green shrubs. The breeze from the sea is pleasant and invigorating, and the sound of the surf beyond the barrier of the dunes is calming. Going east, the trail meets a set of rickety wooden steps that climb up to the busy Port of Dol Bannath. The trail extends snakelike going west, curving along between the dunes. >se You can't go that way. >e Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >e Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >n Ticketing Office Inside the ticketing office, the noisy business of the fishing docks is softened to a background hum, riding in on a cooling ocean breeze through a pair of open windows. On the walls hang a number of posters advertising various exciting destinations to be reached sailing the Copper Sea, such as the picturesque bays and coastal mountains to the east, warm vacation destinations among the islands peppering a region of the sea just off the coast to the south, and the fascinating foreign ports of Syborea, Ull Korso, and Pantyr, each a long journey from here across the great ocean. It is crowded in here at the moment, people gathered before the marketing posters and timetables, discussing upcoming journeys, and lined up to purchase tickets. Above the din, you hear a voice with an unmistakable accent -- that of a native of your homeland. You peer among the crowd to find whomever it is that speaks with the recognizable bent of a fellow Mourdrascan, and discover it is the clerk himself, behind the ticketing counter, serving the lined up passengers one by one. The exit is to the south. You can see a Mourdrascan Clerk here. >talk to clerk The ticketing office is quite busy, and a number of customers stand in the way of you and any opportunity to capture the attention of your countryman. Perhaps you can approach him later, during a quieter time. >w You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >s Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >w Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >n Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >n Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >n Palace Gate The presidential palace, surrounded by massively high and imposing walls, is here at the top of Grand Port Avenue. The view from here is spectacular, with all the bustle of the city laid out in a panorama below, and the scintillating coast line of the Copper Sea beyond, shimmering in its characteristic reddish, metallic hue. A wide, wooden drawbridge is down over a deep moat around the walls of the palace, and at this end of the bridge stands Guardsman Riptorius. At the northern end, the huge iron palace gate with its intricate mosaic blocks the only way into the palace compound. As the Constable noted when you first arrived at the palace gate, if you have any information about criminal activity in Dol Bannath (leading to an arrest), you can talk to the guard about it, and perhaps collect a reward. >talk to guard Guardsman Riptorius returns your greeting solemnly. "Remember, Warrior Poet," he says, "if you come across any useful information about criminal activity in the city -- leading to an arrest -- I would like to hear it. I may be able to pay you." You consider bringing up the violence you have been involved in, but then, there is no one to arrest, except perhaps yourself, so for now you decide to keep quiet about it. You also consider mentioning that traveling merchant, but you might want to sell something to him later, so you say nothing about him either. >s Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >i You are carrying: a cutlass (3-7 damage) some thick fur covering (protection 1, only applies when wearing it) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key twenty-six gold pieces some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >s Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >e Mufstasa's Deals A traveling merchant has parked his carriage along Grand Port Avenue, under the shade of a towering bowlax tree. A handsome, colorful outfit adorns the merchant selling his possessions here, and his smile is so generous, you can't help but feel welcome. After a quick perusal of what he his offering, however, you see that he has nothing you are interested in buying. You can leave Mufstasa's shop by going west from here. >sell covering You present the thick fur covering to the merchant. He looks it over. "I'll give you 2 gold pieces for this," he says. Would you like to make the sale? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >y You sell the thick fur covering for 2 gold pieces. >* oi I didn't understand that sentence. >n You can't go that way. >w Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >n Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >w Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >w Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; Zahareen's Fine Foods, to the northeast; and to the southeast, the calm serenity of the Oasis of Dreams beckons. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >n You have no reason to go back to the Camel Pit. >w Outside the Cemetery Wall Between Market Square and a cemetery here there is a very old stone wall. The barrier extends above the stones with thick, rusted iron bars, six or eight inches apart, each topped with a fat, triangular spike. There is a solid iron gate on rusted hinges, flanked by a crimson shrub on one side and a prickly bush on the other, each growing out of its own large planter. Beyond the gate to the west appears to be a small burial ground outside a chapel. East is Market Square. >w Cemetery Although much of the architecture you see around Dol Bannath is odd and foreign to you, this yard next to a chapel is unmistakably a burial ground. Tombstones of varying sizes mark burial plots organized in rows, and the presence of flowers at some of the graves suggest many buried here are regularly visited by their surviving persons. The chapel is west, and to the east, beyond an iron gate set into an ancient stone wall bordering the cemetery, you hear the sounds of Market Square. >x tombstones Now, this one is especially interesting. The inscription reads: Ozul Mephasteses 1023 - 1097 You are momentarily taken aback, for, as odd as it seems to find Ozul Mephasteses buried here beside this small church, this must indeed be the grave of the famed Mourdrascan who not only hails from your homeland, but from your school. Several of your classes in the Department of Poetry and War were held in Mephasteses Hall. Ozul, born almost 600 years ago in 1023, is a famed hero, whose Rhymes were instrumental in the War of Antiphocles that resulted in the independence of Mourdrascus. You guiltily admit that you retain little knowledge of Ozul's life after the war, but apparently, he too crossed the Infinite Sands, and came to this land for adventure, but ended here, in Dol Bannath, in this otherwise unnoteworthy cemetery. Perhaps someone in the church can tell you more. >* oh OK, is that important You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >w Chapel The chapel is quiet, with wooden pews lining the floor facing a raised dais and a pulpit. Behind the pulpit is a large statue of a saintly looking figure. The main entrance is two large oaken doors; through them to the southeast is Ten Flowers Road. A smaller door to the east leads to the cemetery. The cleric is at his table studying a dusty old tome. >talk to cleric "You there! Cleric! Churchman!" you call to the priest. "Come forth now, and address me. I have questions." The cleric pushes his book away and raises his eyes to you curiously. But after a moment, he scoots his stool back and stands, folding his hands together as he slowly circles around his writing desk and approaches you. "Welcome to a church of Our Savior, stranger. Would you like to procure a copy of our ancient text, the Answrible? First time buyers receive a...tantalizing discount." Thinking back to the Introduction to World Religions class you took as a Freshman, you do recall the substance of the tome. You were not impressed. "I've read your book, holy man. It made no sense to me." The cleric reacts to this comment with a subtle appearance of displeasure. "No," you continue, "what interests me is what you know about a grave in your cemetery. Ozul Mephasteses rests here. What can you tell me of him?" From here the cleric proves to be most helpful. He tells you about another traveler who came to the chapel just two days ago, also asking about the dead Mourdrascan. You immediately wonder if this traveler was your quarry, Professor Zylock, and after getting a description of the man, you are certain it was. Zylock spent a few hours here, exploring some old books in the church library downstairs. Then he asked this priest how one might travel from Dol Bannath to the island of Attar, an unremarkable rock that is part of a sprawling archipelago in the Copper Sea, well off the coast of this city. The cleric informs you that he directed Zylock to the port, south of here, where ships set sail to the archipelago regularly, and where passage can be booked at the ticketing office there. With this lead, you thank the cleric, decline his invitation to visit the church library, and drop a gold coin into a donation bowl on your way out through the chapel entrance, where you find yourself on Ten Flowers Road. Ten Flowers Road This handsome avenue edging the southern border of Market Square is shaded by tall trees that reach out over the street, their bushy crowns overhead creating a patched tunnel of foliage. Across the street from the entrance to the market is a curious creature about four feet tall with green skin, large pointed ears, and a honking snout sprouting boldly from his face. He is a goblin, like the one you saw in the Oasis of Dreams in Market Square. They are rare even in Dol Bannath, you presume, having seen no others among the city folk. His face is painted white, with black and red accents around his eyes and mouth, and he stands on a brightly painted crate in a comical little outfit, juggling five bean bags. A clown, there is no denying it. A few spectators are gathered around him, silently watching his concentration. Looking east, you see that the road ends at a T-intersection with a wider thoroughfare, in the other direction, the road curves northwest and meets the chapel you visited. You can also enter Market Square to the north from here. >* Oh OK that was load-bearng I didn't understand that sentence. >e Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >e Mufstasa's Deals A traveling merchant has parked his carriage along Grand Port Avenue, under the shade of a towering bowlax tree. A handsome, colorful outfit adorns the merchant selling his possessions here, and his smile is so generous, you can't help but feel welcome. After a quick perusal of what he his offering, however, you see that he has nothing you are interested in buying. You can leave Mufstasa's shop by going west from here. >s You can't go that way. >e You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >w Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >s Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >e Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >n Ticketing Office Inside the ticketing office, the noisy business of the fishing docks is softened to a background hum, riding in on a cooling ocean breeze through a pair of open windows. On the walls hang a number of posters advertising various exciting destinations to be reached sailing the Copper Sea, such as the picturesque bays and coastal mountains to the east, warm vacation destinations among the islands peppering a region of the sea just off the coast to the south, and the fascinating foreign ports of Syborea, Ull Korso, and Pantyr, each a long journey from here across the great ocean. It is quiet in the ticketing office at the moment, so it is easy to hear that the clerk behind the ticketing counter speaks with a familiar accent, recognizable immediately as that of a native of your homeland. The clerk must be a Mourdrascan, like yourself. The exit is to the south. You can see a Mourdrascan Clerk here. >talk to clerk "Aha!" you announce. "A countryman!" Bumping aside another traveler waiting to purchase a ticket, you stride up to the window where the Mourdrascan is handing a customer his excursion pass. "Well met, friend from the homeland!" You extend your arm across the counter and grasp the man's wrist in a vigorous Mourdrascan handshake. He reacts with some reservation at first, but when he registers the telltale colors of your Warrior Poet's garb covering your arms and peeking out from the straps of your leather armor, he returns your greeting with equal aplomb, revealing that he too went to the University of Mourdrascus, and you start talking. He, of course, graduated in Business Administration. "Poetry and War, eh?" the alumnus muses, relaxing onto one elbow behind the counter as he settles into your conversation. "Isn't that department..?" "On the chopping block?" you finish his sentence for him. "Most likely," you reply. "And it's a shame, really." Then, you lower your voice, and close some the space between the two of you. "With a simple little rhyme, you see -- a nursery rhyme, really -- I could light your clothes on fire, or belt your body with a blast of energy that would..." dropping the volume of each word as you speak it, inviting him to lean in even closer until you finish with a whisper: "...put you to sleep. Forever." The clerk is more than impressed, his face momentarily frozen in puzzled awe, while he pictures himself being broken apart by the potent syllables of your destructive Poetry. The moment of tension is brief, and then breaks when he slaps his palm down onto the counter, and bursts forth with sudden laughter. You join in with your own walloping guffaw of hilarity, and the raucous explosion of mirth between you makes the travelers lined up in the office flinch with surprise, and then settle impatiently as they wait for the clerk to finish his personal aside with you. He introduces himself as Peitr. "Listen chum, I'll get a lunch break in about an hour. Meet me outside and I'll introduce you to oysters from the Copper Sea." You gladly accept a lunch of raw oysters and a bottle of ale, all of which Peitr treats you to, at a wooden bench on a pier across from the ticketing office, under the warm Dol Bannath sun. The two of you share stories about University life, and bond over your mutual dislike of the students in the Psionics department. "Nerds!" he scoffs, and you nod in agreement, adding, "Pinheads!" To be honest, you never particularly liked anyone in the Business Administration department either, but Peitr seems all right. After you give him the details of your journey, he says, "Look, sea travel is way overpriced right now. No kidding, highest it's been in probably a decade. What do you think I'm doing here? The commissions are primo. So let's be real, you're not going to afford a ticket to Attar. But, I might be able to help you." Now it's the clerk's turn to lower his voice. He imparts to you that most ship captains will take alternate forms of payment. "Captain Curtaz, of the Sloppy Seconds, for instance, he loves good coffee beans. And prostitutes. Captain Moya, of the Reverend's Pride, she's a gambler. Challenge her to a card game and you can win yourself passage. And Captain Eargo, of the Lucky Swell, loves anything Sauridian, he goes nuts for that stuff. Anyway, good luck." He takes a final swig of his beer, tosses the empty into the ocean, and heads back to his office to continue clerking. Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. > e Cargo Docks These docks are quieter than where the fishermen land to ply their trade, but the activity here is just as earnest and busy: muscled and shirtless longshoremen join in lines to pull fat ropes connecting to massive crates through squeaking pulleys and high crane arms to load and unload great quantities of goods bound for (or arriving from) foreign lands across the sea; foremen direct tackmasters leading oxen-pulled carts of barrels and baskets and boxes of cargo up gangplanks and into the holds of massive sea-faring vessels preparing for their long voyages ahead. One of the ships docked here and taking on goods catches your eye, when you see her name prominently labeled on her impressive hull: The Lucky Swell. A large man with powerful shoulders stands beside her, who must be Captain Eargo. Peitr from the ticketing office told you that the man might trade passage to Attar Island on his ship, in exchange for a Sauridian artifact. You should talk to him. You can see Captain Eargo here. >x eargo You see nothing special about Captain Eargo. >talk to eargo You approach Captain Eargo. He is dismissive of you at first, needing to attend to his business, but during your studies in Poetry and War you happened upon a few short texts that scholars claim to have translated from certain items of Sauridian origin. These are not magical Rhymes, but when you recall one to him, it works like a charm, and suddenly you have his attention. You tell him a bit about your travels from Mourdrascus and your desire to sail to Attar Island, and he confirms that the destination is on the way of his upcoming journey. "Suppose I was able to return to you with a Sauridian artifact, before you set sail on your next voyage," you offer. "Could you find room for me on The Lucky Swell?" He gives you a sly grin and nods. "Some who collect items of Sauridian make are hobbyists, others are rich and bored and looking for something to spend their money on. I, however, am a fanatic. I freely admit it; there is little I would not do, Mourdrascan, for the right specimen to add to my collection. Bring me a suitable item of genuine Sauridian creation, and I will take you to Attar." You shake hands on the bargain, and leave him to his duties. >w Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >n Ticketing Office Inside the ticketing office, the noisy business of the fishing docks is softened to a background hum, riding in on a cooling ocean breeze through a pair of open windows. On the walls hang a number of posters advertising various exciting destinations to be reached sailing the Copper Sea, such as the picturesque bays and coastal mountains to the east, warm vacation destinations among the islands peppering a region of the sea just off the coast to the south, and the fascinating foreign ports of Syborea, Ull Korso, and Pantyr, each a long journey from here across the great ocean. The after-lunch rush is in full swing. The exit is to the south. You can see a Mourdrascan Clerk here. >s Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >w Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >n Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >w Ten Flowers Road This handsome avenue edging the southern border of Market Square is shaded by tall trees that reach out over the street, their bushy crowns overhead creating a patched tunnel of foliage. Across the street from the entrance to the market is a curious creature about four feet tall with green skin, large pointed ears, and a honking snout sprouting boldly from his face. He is a goblin, like the one you saw in the Oasis of Dreams in Market Square. They are rare even in Dol Bannath, you presume, having seen no others among the city folk. His face is painted white, with black and red accents around his eyes and mouth, and he stands on a brightly painted crate in a comical little outfit, juggling five bean bags. A clown, there is no denying it. A few spectators are gathered around him, silently watching his concentration. Looking east, you see that the road ends at a T-intersection with a wider thoroughfare, in the other direction, the road curves northwest and meets the chapel you visited. You can also enter Market Square to the north from here. >n Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; Zahareen's Fine Foods, to the northeast; and to the southeast, the calm serenity of the Oasis of Dreams beckons. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >se Oasis of Dreams The chaotic bustle of Market Square outside the Oasis of Dreams is quieted pleasantly by the heavy curtains at its entry. Inside this warmly lit haven, you are soothed by a subtle herbal fragrance, and your ears are enchanted by a soft, wandering melody. The beautiful song is weaved by a silver skinned elf musician seated on silk pillows and colorful blankets, plucking away skillfully on a delicate stringed instrument and singing sweetly with an intoxicating timbre that sounds like liquid glass. Another elf, who could be the musician's twin, sits on a stool beside a copper till. The elf shopkeeper smiles to you, welcomingly. A surprisingly small selection of wares are on display in this comfortable, circular space, each singular item sitting on its own low pedestal for viewing, protected beneath a pristine crystal dome. Two other shoppers browse idly around, taking time to examine the beauty of each intriguing artifact on display before moving onto the next one, reminding you of an afternoon spent in the fine art museum back at the University of Mourdrascus. You can leave the Oasis of Dreams by going northwest, back to Market Square. You can see Ring of the Ebon Flame, Johydee's Mask, an Orb of the Dragon, and an unblemished Sauridian ornament here. >x ring 30 pieces of gold for the Ring of the Ebon Flame! You are familiar with this item, and seeing it before your eyes sends a shiver rippling through your flesh. Fashioned about one hundred years ago by a renowned Wordsmith, this ring saps energy from the cosmos and focuses it into the mystical power of a Poet's magic Rhymes. Its price is 30 gold pieces. (This item makes your Poetry more deadly with a bonus of +3, but you must be wearing it.) >x ornamnet You can't see any such thing. >x ornament On one display stand is a striking looking item indeed. Constructed using an otherworldly material that changes colors constantly due to some unknown chemical property, you recognize it as a Sauridian antiquity. These mysterious objects all originate from the small continent of Syborea, a great distance from here across the Copper Sea. They are rare in these lands, and highly collectible. This one is the shape of a regular octahedron, about the size of two fists, and you are mesmerized as you watch the shifting colors and fantastical patterns that animate each of its eight sides. It is priced at 500 gold pieces. "Quite a marvel, don't you think?" Interrupting your captured attention is another customer, also standing here, admiring the fascinating object. She is a goblin, a rare sight indeed, with green skin, large pointed ears, a great, protruding snout, and large sparkling eyes the color of polished redwood. She stands just tall enough to view the Sauridian ornament on its pedestal. What's more, you notice that she wears a small pendant from a delicate chain around her throat which is also unmistakably Sauridian in origin. She must be a collector. >x goblin The short, green-skinned goblin has a great, protruding snout, and large, pointed ears. She browses around a pedestal displaying a fine example of Sauridian antiquity, and what's more, you notice that a pendant hanging from a delicate chain necklace around her throat is unmistakably a small Sauridian artifact. She must be a collector. >talk to goblin The green goblin stands at the pedestal upon which a beguiling, unblemished Sauridian ornament is displayed. "Greetings, little green dwarf," you introduce yourself, taking in the goblin's diminutive stature and plain attire. "You seem to appreciate these curious Sauridian artifacts. Normally, I have no use for them -- though at this moment I seek to obtain one. I am a Warrior," you say, "and a Poet; I learned my trade at the legendary University of Mourdrascus; certainly you've heard of it. My dangerous adventures leave me with little time for a collecting hobby." Either the goblin misses the disdain in your tone for those who collect useless knick-knacks, or else she decides to ignore it. "Collecting," she says, turning her attention back to the ornament on its pedestal, "provides some joy to those of us whose lives are not so exciting as yours." You accept the reasoning behind this suggestion, knowing that the peasant classes require their pointless pursuits as they struggle to find meaning in their inconsequential lives. "But," she continues, "why would you want a Sauridian artifact, if not to join our community of enthusiasts?" You briefly tell the goblin about your travels, and your need to voyage to Attar Island, in the Copper Sea. "I have yet to gather a fortune from dangerous adventuring, and the prices here in Dol Bannath, for things like ship passage and Sauridian ornaments, are beyond my meager means. But, if I could present a certain ship captain with a Sauridian collectible, he will give me passage to where I must go. And," you gesture to the pendant hanging from the goblin's necklace, "I could not help but notice the charm you wear. Perhaps you would part with it, in barter, or, for a fair price?" So begins a process of bargaining with the goblin that takes most of an hour. You try to insert a few Rhymes into your haggling, but she is wise to your tricks and does not succumb to your attempts to charm her. Maybe all goblins are as wily in negotiating as she is, or perhaps you unknowingly said something to motivate her to drive an especially hard bargain? Either way, by the end you decide never to engage in deal-making with her kind again. This time, luckily, you had your services as a Poet and a Warrior to bring to the table. You learn that she and her brother, a talented street performer, came to Dol Bannath for the Market Festival. Her brother, on his way to set up for his show, was accosted by a ruffian, and robbed, in a dark alley near Market Square. Along with some coin, the robber took her brother's permit, which allows him to perform inside the Festival. "My brother and I are not fighters," she says; "we are defenseless. But you -- a trained Warrior, and Poet -- if you could find and vanquish this criminal, and return with my brother's permit -- for that, I would give you my Sauridian pendant. The robber may have the permit on his person, or possibly at his hideout, which I happen to know is a hidden cave, north of Shipwreck Cove, to the west of the Port." "Little goblin, I believe I met this robber already, in that same dark alleyway, and I dispatched him with my deft blade and the witty, explosive power of my awesome Rhymes," you say. She shows surprise, raising soft, sculpted eyebrows singed with purple highlights. "Did you take the permit from him?" You are not sure he had it, but you might go back and check his body, if it is still there. "I may return to the alleyway and see," you say. "But how do you know about his secret hideout?" "A little bird told me," she responds, which is something goblins are rumored to say all of the time, and you are inclined to believe it, because goblins are also rumored to possess the power to speak with animals. "Or a rather large bird, actually. A hawk," she clarifies. "Keep whatever else this robber stole, if you wish, but find my brother's permit, and bring it to me. I will be at the Resting Laurel Inn, in the Lodging District. If you do this, I will give you my pendant." She gives you her name: it is Chantal. After striking a deal with you, she goes on her way, leaving you to admire the mystical shifting patterns of the Sauridian ornament once again. >* whew I didn't understand that sentence. >e You can't go that way. >nw Market Square Market Square is bustling with activity. The crowd of visitors mills about in an aimless swirl, decorated by garb of every conceivable color and style. The sound of booming barkers and hectic hagglers mixes with the upbeat and raucous call of cobblestone crooners, creating a chaotic cacophony that is both celebratory and intense. The Dol Bannath Market Festival, a yearly episode when the market expands its offerings to include choice goods and rare entertainments from regions near and far, is in full swing around you. The most intriguing places to visit are Hadizor Zamarouk's forge, to the northwest; Zahareen's Fine Foods, to the northeast; and to the southeast, the calm serenity of the Oasis of Dreams beckons. To leave the Festival, you can go east, through a narrow alleyway; west, toward a gate leading to a squat stone church; or south, to Ten Flowers Road. >e Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >search corpse The face of the man you killed looks peaceful in demise. His dead body slumps against the wall near a sewage barrel, where he collapsed when you defeated him. His leather satchel is stained with blood. His chipped knife lays on the ground near him. You wonder if you should hide the body to keep yourself out of trouble, but the alley is shrouded in shadows already, the corpse is mostly hidden from view, and no one seems to have noticed the evidence of your skirmish. >x satchel You see that there is a hole where the satchel's seams are coming apart; that must have happened during the battle. The purse is useless now. >e Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >s Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >s Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >w Dunes Trail This dirt trail winds through high white sand dunes peppered with green shrubs. The breeze from the sea is pleasant and invigorating, and the sound of the surf beyond the barrier of the dunes is calming. Going east, the trail meets a set of rickety wooden steps that climb up to the busy Port of Dol Bannath. The trail extends snakelike going west, curving along between the dunes. >w Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. The hideout Chantal the goblin told you about must be in a cave in the cliffs on the north side of the cove. It should be easy to find now that you know where to look. A pirate's corpse is here. The smashed boxes and rotting cloth she was interested in before the battle are soaking in the shallows of the tide, wrapped up in a mass of deep green seaweed. >n Robber's Hideout You would have missed the narrow entrance to this dim cave if Chantal the goblin had not told you where to look. A bushy tree with many fat branches sprouting from its squat, thick trunk easily obscures the opening into the cliff side. You pick your way through the foliage and enter a short passage leading to a cavern formed between two great masses of rock, lit by sunlight filtering from above through a crevice that separates them. Inside the cave you can see that the criminals who are menacing the populace from this hideout have set up camp here. There are a few dirty bedrolls arranged around a campfire (currently unlit), while over at the edge of the cave looks to be a cache of stolen goods. Beside the bedrolls is a medium sized lockbox. All of this bears some investigation, however your attention is immediately drawn to the other occupant of the place: some rapscallion, a member of the pirate gang no doubt, exhibiting highly unwelcoming behavior -- waving a nasty looking spiked club, he barks at you, making it clear that he wants you to leave, immediately. The exit is to the south. You can see a rapscallion here. >save Ok. >x rapscallion The angry rapscallion swings his club through the air, apparently letting you know he's not at all afraid of bashing your head in. You're going to have to do something about this adversary if you want to have a look around this place. >attack him You recall your training in Poetry and War, steel your wits, and get ready to battle the rapscallion! Will you ATTACK with your cutlass, RECITE a mystical Rhyme, or FLEE? Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 ! Combat Round 1: A crack of thunder startles the rapscallion as you lift your arms high and summon the mysterious, mystical power that infuses your dangerous Rhyme. The ground trembles beneath your feet, magical energy crackling around you as you rumble a ragged noise from your core that quakes along your esophagus, clearing your throat before you begin. When you release the first sound, your voice comes as a shrill beast of destruction -- a fearsome serpent of murder -- a harbinger of death! Your terrible voice announces: "Jack and Jill went up the hill..." The rapscallion reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, but with a save roll of 19, their willpower is strong and they resist the damage from your Rhyme! The rapscallion has 8 hit points left. The rapscallion attempts to strike you with the spiked club: a roll of 2 with attack rank 10 -- the rapscallion misses! You have 11 hit points left. Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 !! Combat Round 2: A sudden blast of freezing wind sweeps past you as you settle your mind and let the awesome, mysterious power of your training begin to possess you. The rapscallion looks up in surprise as lightning flashes overhead and cracks of thunder echo from a sudden gathering of dark clouds on high, summoned by the fearsome magic of your horrifying Verse. When you release your Rhyme, your voice stabs, pierces, rends, cuts; the very fabric of existence threatens to shatter when you say: "Mary Mary, quite contrary..." The rapscallion reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, taking 5 hit points of damage, leaving them with 3. The rapscallion attempts to strike you with the spiked club: a roll of 1 with attack rank 10 -- the rapscallion misses! You have 11 hit points left. Enter 1 to attack, 2 to recite, or 3 to flee: > 2 !!! Combat Round 3: You raise your dominant hand high above your head and lift your chin regally, closing your eyes as you recall your training. A deafening silence closes in, swallowing up every tiny sound until your heartbeat is a tremendous clamor, your blood coursing through your veins a thunderous river through an echoing canyon. The rapscallion widens their eyes in horror, momentarily overcome by the same unsettling experience. Before they can make sense of this mystical phenomenon brought on by the mysterious power of your Rhyme, you release the monstrous Verse, sounding out with the force of a howling gale: "This old man, he played one..." The rapscallion reels from the awesome power of your mystical Verse, taking 6 hit points of damage, leaving them with -3. You have defeated the rapscallion! >save Ok. >l Robber's Hideout Foliage obscures the entrance to this cave in the cliffs, which is dimly illuminated by a shaft of light directing downward through a crevice above where two massive rock formations meet. Inside the cave you can see that the criminals who are menacing the populace from this hideout have set up camp here. There are a few dirty bedrolls arranged around a campfire (currently unlit), while over at the edge of the cave looks to be a cache of stolen goods. Beside the bedrolls is a medium sized lockbox. On the floor of the cave is the body of the thief you killed. The exit is to the south. You can see a spiked club here. >x club A heavy wooden cudgel with an iron band around its head. Rusted iron spikes are sticking out of the iron band. A crude and dishonorable weapon. (This weapon does 3-5 damage.) >take it Taken. >l Robber's Hideout Foliage obscures the entrance to this cave in the cliffs, which is dimly illuminated by a shaft of light directing downward through a crevice above where two massive rock formations meet. Inside the cave you can see that the criminals who are menacing the populace from this hideout have set up camp here. There are a few dirty bedrolls arranged around a campfire (currently unlit), while over at the edge of the cave looks to be a cache of stolen goods. Beside the bedrolls is a medium sized lockbox. On the floor of the cave is the body of the thief you killed. The exit is to the south. >x cache You can't see any such thing. >x goods There are some large wall paintings stacked against the edge of the cave, and a few bags of loot are strewn about next to them. Spilling from the bags are valuables such as silver platters and dishware, expensive art and collectibles, and some fine cloths. At the moment, the thought of profiting from these freshly pilfered goods seems ignoble to you, even though, as a general rule, you are not really a stickler about such things. Regardless, it's all too bulky and cumbersome for you to tote with you anyway. Perhaps you can alert some authorities about it all, but for now, best to leave it be. >search goods You find nothing of interest. >x lockbox The lockbox is rusted, and dented, but still looks quite sturdy. >unlock it What do you want to unlock the rusted lockbox with? >tarnished That doesn't seem to fit the lock. >i You are carrying: a spiked club (3-5 damage) twenty-seven gold pieces a cutlass (3-7 damage) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >unlock lockbox with polished You unlock the rusted lockbox. >open it You open the rusted lockbox, revealing a performance permit, seven gold pieces, a petrified scarab, and a purple velvet pouch. >take permit Taken. >x it A brief, official document that permits a certain goblin clown to perform his act on the grounds of the Dol Banath Market Square, limited to the duration of the annual Market Festival. >take gold Taken. >x scarab A petrified beetle, about the size of a baby's fist, turned to stone after being buried in the ground for a thousand years. Not magical, but certainly very pretty. >take it Taken. >x pouch A small pouch made of rich purple velvet, with a length of twine spun from golden thread that ties it closed. >take it Taken. >open it You open the purple velvet pouch, revealing a small collection of precious stones. >x stones Each little jewel in this collection is about the size of a small fingernail. If you ever make it back to Mourdrascus, these should fetch a good price to help you kick-start your adventuring career, and you don't mind keeping them. >s Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. A squat, bushy tree, growing along the cliff to the north, obscures the cave where the criminals made their camp. A pirate's corpse is here. The smashed boxes and rotting cloth she was interested in before the battle are soaking in the shallows of the tide, wrapped up in a mass of deep green seaweed. >e Dunes Trail This dirt trail winds through high white sand dunes peppered with green shrubs. The breeze from the sea is pleasant and invigorating, and the sound of the surf beyond the barrier of the dunes is calming. Going east, the trail meets a set of rickety wooden steps that climb up to the busy Port of Dol Bannath. The trail extends snakelike going west, curving along between the dunes. >e Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >n Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >e Mufstasa's Deals A traveling merchant has parked his carriage along Grand Port Avenue, under the shade of a towering bowlax tree. A handsome, colorful outfit adorns the merchant selling his possessions here, and his smile is so generous, you can't help but feel welcome. After a quick perusal of what he his offering, however, you see that he has nothing you are interested in buying. You can leave Mufstasa's shop by going west from here. >i You are carrying: a purple velvet pouch (open) a small collection of precious stones a petrified scarab twenty-eight gold pieces a performance permit a spiked club (3-5 damage) a cutlass (3-7 damage) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >sell scarab You present the petrified scarab to the merchant. He looks it over. "I'll give you 10 gold pieces for this," he says. Would you like to make the sale? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >n You keep the petrified scarab. >i You are carrying: a purple velvet pouch (open) a small collection of precious stones a petrified scarab twenty-eight gold pieces a performance permit a spiked club (3-5 damage) a cutlass (3-7 damage) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >sell dagger You would prefer to keep that. >sell club You present the spiked club to the merchant. He looks it over. "I'll give you 1 gold pieces for this," he says. Would you like to make the sale? Please enter Y or N (Yes or No) >y You sell the spiked club for 1 gold pieces. >i You are carrying: twenty-nine gold pieces a purple velvet pouch (open) a small collection of precious stones a petrified scarab a performance permit a cutlass (3-7 damage) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >sell stones You present the small collection of precious stones to the merchant. He handles it carefully and examines it with wide eyes, clearly impressed. "Beautiful," he says, handing it back to you. "Unfortunately, it's worth more than I can afford." >w Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >n Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >n Palace Gate The presidential palace, surrounded by massively high and imposing walls, is here at the top of Grand Port Avenue. The view from here is spectacular, with all the bustle of the city laid out in a panorama below, and the scintillating coast line of the Copper Sea beyond, shimmering in its characteristic reddish, metallic hue. A wide, wooden drawbridge is down over a deep moat around the walls of the palace, and at this end of the bridge stands Guardsman Riptorius. At the northern end, the huge iron palace gate with its intricate mosaic blocks the only way into the palace compound. As the Constable noted when you first arrived at the palace gate, if you have any information about criminal activity in Dol Bannath (leading to an arrest), you can talk to the guard about it, and perhaps collect a reward. >talk to guard "Guardsman," you say, "attend to my voice, for I have information that I believe you would hear." "Okay," replies the guard. He listens closely as you relate to him your visit to Shipwreck Cove. You describe the goods hoarded by the pirates in their secret hideout. You inform the guard triumphantly, "With my powerful Rhymes and the sharp blade of my steel, I dispatched a member of their criminal gang in their hidden cave." Then you add, "One of their number met his end when he clashed with me in some dark alleyway in town." And as if that were not enough, you say, "The cove was crawling with dangerous pirates, but they were no match for my destructive Poetry and the lethal sharpness of my blade." Guardsman Riptorius is glad to hear of the valuable stolen property, and assures you the Constable will be delighted about the news. He is gracious in his thanks. Just as the Constable said, the guard imparts to you a reward for the information in the sum of 20 pieces of gold. "As for the killing," Guardsman Riptorius says, "well, since there is no one to arrest, besides perhaps yourself, I cannot offer you compensation. But go, Warrior Poet, knowing you have made Dol Bannath safer, and keep your freedom." >s Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >e Resting Laurel Inn The lobby of the Resting Laurel Inn is warm and welcoming, with a few plush furnishings laid out for lounging before a large, brick fireplace. Chantal, the goblin you met in the Oasis of Dreams, is here, sitting before the fire and concentrating on a game of solitaire. Along one wall is a reception desk, but no one seems to be attending it at the moment. A well-lit corridor is to the east, with several doors opening off of it. The exit, to Grand Port Avenue, is to the west. On the reception desk are a brass bell and a printed flyer. >x goblin That's her all right, Chantal, the goblin from the Oasis of Dreams, Sauridian artifact collector, sister of the goblin clown. She's playing a game of solitaire. She wears a small Sauridian pendant around her neck. >talk to her (Chantal) You take a seat in a plush chair next to Chantal the goblin, and place the performance permit you found in the robber's hideout near Shipwreck Cove down onto the low table where she is playing her game of solitaire. She looks at it, and then at you, leaning back in her chair and smiling. "Thank you, Mourdrascan," she says. "My brother's fortunes will increase tenfold, performing for the crowds in Market Square, instead being consigned to a street corner. It pains me some to part with this beautiful pendant, but a deal is a deal, and you have held up your end of the bargain. I give it to you, and wish you luck in your travels." You nod, take the pendant, and put it in a pocket in your robe. "I wish I could stay and see more of your brother's act, but I must journey now across the Copper Sea, to Attar Island, and complete my quest. Farewell Chantal." You take your leave. Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >w Narrow Alley. This shadowed lane is little more than a path of firm, dry dirt between brick and wood buildings that rise three stories on each side. Halfway along you see a ratty, domesticated feline creature, no longer than your forearm, sniffing around a pile of rubble next to a sewage barrel. The corpse of the robber that attacked you is next to one of the sewage barrels. The chipped knife he used is on the ground near him. To the west is Market Square, and to the east, the alley meets a wide cross street. >s You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >e Lodging District This section of Grand Port Avenue hosts most of the city's rooming houses. Among these, the Resting Laurel Inn is to the east, identified by its sign with a figure reclining amidst a green painted laurel. It's the only boarding house here that has its torch lit. North from here, the avenue makes a steep climb toward a hilltop surrounded by a high wall, beyond which are signs of a regal structure; a palace, perhaps. In the opposite direction, the avenue slopes down, toward the port and the vast and scintillating Copper Sea. Opening between two buildings to the west is a narrow, dark alleyway. >s Grand Port Avenue The breeze from the sea sweeps up Grand Port Avenue, carrying with it the scents of fish and salt and sand. The avenue runs north and south; going west from here is Ten Flowers Road, and to the south, the avenue descends steadily until it reaches the port. Pausing as you look that way, you take a moment to admire from this elevation the great expanse of the sparkling Copper Sea, dotted with a few islands in the hazy distance. Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the avenue, a traveling merchant has set up shop under the shade of a bowlax tree. >s Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >s You can't go that way. >e Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >e Cargo Docks These docks are quieter than where the fishermen land to ply their trade, but the activity here is just as earnest and busy: muscled and shirtless longshoremen join in lines to pull fat ropes connecting to massive crates through squeaking pulleys and high crane arms to load and unload great quantities of goods bound for (or arriving from) foreign lands across the sea; foremen direct tackmasters leading oxen-pulled carts of barrels and baskets and boxes of cargo up gangplanks and into the holds of massive sea-faring vessels preparing for their long voyages ahead. The Lucky Swell is still docked here, and Captain Eargo looks in your direction expectantly. You can see Captain Eargo here. >i You are carrying: a Sauridian pendant forty-nine gold pieces a purple velvet pouch (open) a small collection of precious stones a petrified scarab a cutlass (3-7 damage) a shiny buckler (protection 1) (being worn) the dead ruffian's polished key a tarnished brass cemetery key some leather armor (protection 2) (being worn) a faded Warrior Poet's outfit (being worn) a dagger (2-5 damage) a Warrior Poet's undergraduate amulet (being worn) a letter of official college business -- You have 11 Hit Points out of a maximum of 15. (If this reaches zero, you are defeated.) -- Your Poetry Bonus is 0. (This adds to the overall potency of your Poetry.) -- Your Poetry Power is 2-6. (This is the base damage done by your Rhymes.) -- Your Attack Rank is 5. (An attack roll of this value or higher scores a hit with your melee weapon.) -- Your Protection is 3. (This reduces the amount of damage inflicted on you.) >x pendant The goblin's pendant glows in shifting colors and patterns in the way of all Sauridian artifacts. >give pentant You can't see any such thing. >give pendant (to Captain Eargo) You greet the Captain again, and show him the Sauridian pendant you were able to obtain from Chantal, the goblin. He holds it in his thick, calloused hands and admires it for a long moment, his eyes intently focused on its shifting colors and patterns. "Beautiful," he says, and before you know it, you are assigned a bunk on The Lucky Swell, sailing for Attar Island. *** CONGRATULATIONS -- you have completed the Warrior Poet of Mourdrascus, Part 1: The City of Dol Bannath! You have gained passage on The Lucky Swell, to continue your quest in the upcoming Warrior Poet of Mourdrascus, Part 2: Attar Island! THANK YOU FOR PLAYING! *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, or UNDO the last command? > undo Cargo Docks [Previous turn undone.] >e You can't go that way. >e You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >w Fishing Docks The smell of sea life dominates the senses here, as does the constant noise of port activity: fervent haggling, and the calls of fishermen landing and securing their vessels to the docks. You watch your step as you move among the busy crowd of sailors spilling onto the docks from their trawlers, to meet with buyers and move their bounty. Eager bargain hunters, and ship captains weary from gathering the day's catch, collect around large barrels of seafood to conduct their commerce, as you weave your way between the comings and goings of these sea men and fishmongers. Further east, larger ships making voyages in the import and export trade are moored to the cargo docks; and to the north is the ticketing office, a small building dwarfed between high, imposing warehouse structures on each side. >w Dol Bannath Port The Port of Dol Bannath is alive with activity, a place where the vast Copper Sea meets the ancient city. As you walk along the wooden planks, the smells of fish and saltwater hang in the air, mixed with unfamiliar spices from distant lands. Ships of all shapes and sizes are moored along the docks, and merchants haggle loudly with ship captains, bartering over crates and barrels of seafood and cargo. Grand Port Avenue goes north from here, climbing in elevation as it cuts through the heart of the city. The fishing docks extend to the east, and to the west, the port concludes where high sandy dunes stretch out and trace along the shoreline. >w Dunes Trail This dirt trail winds through high white sand dunes peppered with green shrubs. The breeze from the sea is pleasant and invigorating, and the sound of the surf beyond the barrier of the dunes is calming. Going east, the trail meets a set of rickety wooden steps that climb up to the busy Port of Dol Bannath. The trail extends snakelike going west, curving along between the dunes. >w Shipwreck Cove Closed in on all sides by high rocky cliffs, this small cove opens up to the ocean, with a sandy beach and many sharp, treacherous rocks protruding from the angry surf. To the east, a dirt trail winds away toward the Port of Dol Bannath. A squat, bushy tree, growing along the cliff to the north, obscures the cave where the criminals made their camp. A pirate's corpse is here. The smashed boxes and rotting cloth she was interested in before the battle are soaking in the shallows of the tide, wrapped up in a mass of deep green seaweed. >n Robber's Hideout Foliage obscures the entrance to this cave in the cliffs, which is dimly illuminated by a shaft of light directing downward through a crevice above where two massive rock formations meet. Inside the cave you can see that the criminals who are menacing the populace from this hideout have set up camp here. There are a few dirty bedrolls arranged around a campfire (currently unlit), while over at the edge of the cave looks to be a cache of stolen goods. Beside the bedrolls is a medium sized lockbox. On the floor of the cave is the body of the thief you killed. The exit is to the south. >