The following is a transcript of a walk through the interactive fiction
title "The Dreamhold" in standard mode.  As far as practical, it relies on
logical actions as determined from information already revealed in the
current session and the reasonable expectations of a player familiar with
interactive fiction in general, but not this title in particular.  The
final score is 7 + 7 points out of a possible 7, in 438 turns.


 * * *


Time shifts and flattens, days and decades folding aside like pages in a
book. You can see--


THE DREAMHOLD
A tutorial adventure by Andrew Plotkin. Copyright 2003-4.
First-time players should type "about".
Release 5 / Serial number 041231 / Inform v6.21 Library 6/10 


You wrench your eyes open. Rough grey stone. Grey stone ceiling. Your head
hurts, and -- You're lying on the floor. You're staring at the ceiling, and
it's rough and grey, and you don't recognize it.

You roll slowly (smooth cold floor?) and try to sit up. It hurts. You crawl
upright. The walls, rough stone also, scrape your aching fingers. You can't
-- there was white agony, felt like raw light tearing you apart. You can't
remember anything after that.

You can't remember anything before that. Gone. You clutch at memory, and
there's nothing but empty air.

Cell
This space, barely wider than outstretched arms, seems to have been chopped
raw and square from unfinished stone. Only the floor is smooth -- a fine
white surface beneath your feet. There is a narrow gap in the east wall.

[Don't know how to get started? Type "help" and then hit enter.]

>inventory
You are carrying a quill pen.

[You're carrying something unusual -- well, it's hard to say if it's
unusual or not, just yet. Type "examine the pen" to take a close look at
it.

Or just "x pen" will work. "Examine" can be abbreviated to one letter, and
you can always leave out nonessential words like "a", "an", and "the".]

>examine pen
You are holding a quill pen -- a sturdy black feather, its tip carefully
cut to a nib. You have no memory of where you got it, or when, or why.

>e
You duck your head and push through the gap.

Narrow Hallway
You are standing in a short windowless hallway. To the east is the foot of
a flight of stairs, which rises out of sight. To the west, the hallway
narrows, ending in a small gap of a doorway.

[Looks like you've taken the first step. Well done.

Let me introduce myself. I am the Voice of this tutorial. Most games don't
have me; but in this game, I will watch over your shoulder and give you
some help. With a little practice, you'll soon be moving around the text
adventure world in style.

Back to the story. Remember what's going on? Actually, you don't. As the
introduction said, you can't remember who you are or what you're doing
here!

Amnesia. Yes, it's a cliché, but it'll do for a tutorial.

I'll let you go on exploring. The west corridor leads back to the cell
where you started, so you'll want to try up the stairs instead. Type "up"
or "climb stairs".]

>e
You begin climbing the stairs. They seem to go on for a long while...
pressing between dim stone walls (where is the light coming from? You
haven't seen a window yet)... climbing... (how far?)...

Until you pass through a doorway into warm candlelight.

Crowded Study
You stand amid clutter, oddments, shelves and stacks. The chamber is
comfortably broad, centered around a massive and well-worn wooden desk. But
so much is jammed in, around the desk and up the panelled walls, that you
barely find room to stand. Books; papers; dried plants; animals stuffed and
preserved, antique instruments, candles of any hue. You don't recognize
half of it, and you can't name half the rest.

There are wide doorways on the north and east sides of the room. A door of
heavy wood stands closed to the south, and stairs descend into dimness to
the west.

You see an immense book on the desk. Behind the desk is a tall glass-
fronted cabinet. Beside that is a small brass trunk, which is closed.

If there were a quarter as much here, and a tenth as many books, you might
be in any scholar's study. But this knowledge must represent lifetimes of
work -- lifetimes under a single hand. You do not know where you are, but
you know what this place is: a dreamhold. A wizard's high house.

You do not find yourself afraid. A dreamhold is more than merely dangerous.

>examine desk
The desk is heavy and plain, a massive wooden construction. Surprisingly,
the surface is bare, except for an immense book.

Something in the chaos catches your eye. It looks like a white papier-mache
mask, lying beside the desk.

>read book
The book lies open. You frown at the fine, angular hand but discover that
you can read it:

    The Theory & UNDERSTANDING of Portalls;
The lesser, which make a single place of many, and the Greater, which open
from NOW into Time in Memory, or Prophecy Foretold, or even a Moment's
Fancy;

All portals are perilous. Perilous thresholds to cross, and more perilous
to create; For there is no plying of the World, or of Time, that does not
happen in the Mind of the learned one who conceives of the journey. Of your
Thought is the portal built, arch and capstone. Slip but a moment of your
attention, and the Portal will fall into ruin; All its might, and yours,
crumbled into eggshell fragments that stray upon the Wind; ...

The facing page shows an elaborate circular diagram, annotated here and
there with tiny mathematical notes. The only comment you understand, tucked
in a margin, says "Best to draw in a well-insulated space -- 35 Ll. of
uncut stone? -- move house to Emmen Valley, work into mountain?"

>turn page
You turn a page of the immense book, and then another, and another. The
handwriting is unchanged, but the languages are varied and unfamiliar. You
find no more text that you can read; so you turn back to the diagram.

>take white mask
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.

Your score is displayed in the top right corner of the window. "1 of 7"
means you've achieved one out of seven main goals. The score increased when
you picked up the white mask; so presumably there are seven masks to find
in the game.

You can get a full account of your score by typing "score".]

>examine white mask
It looks like a paper mask, half life-size... but its curves are a
delicately-shaded illusion. The mask is flat -- an inexplicable cutout of a
human face.

You can tell little about the person depicted. You have only an impression
of unformed childhood.

>don white mask
The mask has no ribbons to tie -- it is not even curved to fit a human
face. In any case, it's half life-size. It cannot be worn.

Nonetheless, you try raising the mask before your eyes....

...Memory stirs...

A child runs through the forest. A robe, richly bright-embroidered, has
slipped off one skinny shoulder -- a child old enough to be put in clothes,
too young to know what it means to wear them. A silver-haired child whose
glance darts from tree to bird, caught everywhere.

A mother's voice shouting. Not patient, not yet urgent. The child attends
this, with the same interest as bush, flower, fascinating new rustle
underfoot...

The name, again.

A moist leaf, torn from a tree, clutched in a small fist. Tossed in the
air. Blown about, blown upwards again and again, as the child dances back
and forth, face raised, flushed, puffing madly...

Mother's voice interrupting the game. The child spins once more, dashes
back towards dinner.

The leaf flutters about in the air. It circles a tree; then rises to a high
branch, clings there. It seems to bend this way and that; then it casts
loose, and flutters determinedly after its thoughtless maker.

You yank the mask away with a shudder. What are these memories? Do they
belong to the wizard whose house you are disturbing?

>open trunk
You hesitate a moment. Prying into a wizard's possessions? But you're
already standing in his home; and you could as easily be damned for making
free with his candlelight as with his trunk.

You reach out, flip up the brass lid, and step back in one movement... A
copper key glints at the very bottom of the trunk.

>take copper key
Taken.

>examine books
Books are lined up on shelves, stacked on the floor, scattered in hazard
across everything else in the room. You glance at a few titles, gingerly
lift a cover -- but you recognize none of the many scripts and languages
you find.

>examine door
The door is of heavy wooden planks strapped with iron; the knob is secured
with a thick iron lock. The door is closed.

>unlock door with copper key
The copper key is too small to fit the door's heavy lock.

[The key doesn't match this door. But have you explored everywhere yet?
There may be another door elsewhere which this key unlocks.]

>n

Sitting Room
This room seems more inviting. The walls are painted with delicate patterns
of flowers, which merge into a soft-hued carpet beneath your feet. Two
chairs and a cushioned settee face a bright-flickering fireplace on the far
wall.

A desert landscape painting hangs above the fireplace.

You see doorways to the south and in the southeast corner of the room. A
white-painted door to the east is closed.

>examine painting
The painting shows a stark, rocky desert at dawn. The sunlight stains the
dusty stones to harsh scarlets and rust; but the land seems serene for all
that, unthreatened.

>take painting
You lift the desert landscape painting down from its hook.

>examine door
The door is neatly carpentered in panels, and painted white. It has an
ornate copper doorknob and a tiny keyhole. The door is closed.

>unlock door with copper key
The copper key unlocks the door. You turn the knob and swing it open.

>e

Curving Hall
You are in a high, dim corridor, walled in cracked and moldering plaster.
The only light comes from tiny flickering candles above. The hall curves
gently around from the south to the northwest. You see an open door to the
west; archways open to the northeast and east.

>s

Curving Hall, South End
The curving corridor ends here. The blank plaster wall to the south
features a large window; sunlight pours in, brightening this end of the
hall. You can go through the archway to the east, take the closed door to
the west, or return north along the corridor.

>examine window
A broad glass pane -- inhumanly smooth and flawless -- looks out over a
sunlit, mountainous world.

You must be looking out of a sheer cliff, for you can see no ground below
the windowsill. Far below, stone slopes break and crumble into a verdant
valley. Sunlight glints off water -- threads of stream amid the greenery.
Beyond the valley, the mountains rise again, and mountains beyond that.

You stand for a moment, wondering at the view. "If I were a wizard," you
think, "I would build a house overlooking..." But the thought frays,
wanders, and is lost.

>e

Dim Shed
This room looks like nothing so much as a small, windowless garden shed.
The floor is bare dirt; the walls are unfinished planks. The only light
falls in through the archway to the west. A narrow opening to the north
leads to a steep stairway, which climbs away into darkness.

A single glove is lying in the corner, lost and alone.

>take glove
Taken.

[To wear an item of clothing, such as this glove, use the "wear thing" or
"put on thing" command. To take it off again, try "remove thing" or "take
off thing".]

>examine glove
It's a single glove -- the right. From the heavy palm padding and the
ground-in dirt, you guess it's a gardening glove.

>u
You set foot on the narrow stairway.

Landing
The cramped stair reaches a landing here; it reverses and continues upward
to the south. The walls are close and dark.

>u
You continue climbing.

Landing
The cramped stair reaches a landing here; it reverses and continues upward
to the north. The walls are close and dark.

>u
You continue climbing.

Landing
The cramped stair reaches a landing here; it reverses and continues upward
to the south. The walls are close and dark.

>u
You emerge into open air -- chill and fair-scented.

Mountain Path
You stand at the foot of a low rocky cliff. It squats above you, but it
obscures little of the vast blue sky that stretches all around. Mossy
boulders hem you in on either side; a tidy path winds to the south between
them. To the north the path enters a crack in the cliff, meeting stairs
which vanish down into enclosed darkness.

>s
The boulders open out as you follow the path.

Mountain Garden
A tiny pleasance-garden is nestled here, high on a mountainside. Odd bits
of statuary stand among the sculpted slopes and hillocks; small marble
pillars mark the borders of the knotted paths. The lawn is perfectly
trimmed. The mountain towers above you to the north; high on its face you
see a featureless white dome. Above that, the sun shines in a wide blue
mountain's sky.

A tidy path runs north between mossy boulders. A wider path curves west,
down a grassy slope, and up to the east. To the south, a few marble steps
lead to a balcony, which looks out over a verdant valley. You can see a
particularly tall statue on the balcony.

>e
You climb the path, fog trailing around your feet.

Cool Bower
You stand on a small promontory which juts out of the face of the mountain.
Shrubs and raised flowerbeds lie around you, except for the path which
slopes down to the west. To the south and east, a sharp dropoff looks out
over a lush green valley.

In the center of the bower, a single dense bush squats, sullen and dark.
Its branches knot heavily around each other, then spread into sprays of
delicate, blue-green needles. Strangely, a chill fog seems to spread out
from under the bush; it rolls across the ground and spills from the edges
of the promontory.

>examine bush
The bush is broad and squat. Its blue-tinged needle-like leaves grow
profusely, hiding heavy branches and small clusters of translucent white
berries.

>take white berries
You reach for a berry... ow!

You snatch back your hand, rubbing frost from your finger. The cold was
intense enough to blanch your skin.

The fog ripples gently on the ground, caught by a breath of breeze.

>don glove
You put on the glove.

>take white berries
You reach into the bush, and -- with your gloved hand -- carefully strip a
handful of berries from a branch.

After a few moments, their translucency dulls to a cloudy white, and the
chill you feel through the glove diminishes. Gingerly you prod a berry with
your bare finger. It's cool, but no longer burning-cold.

>w

Mountain Garden

>w
As you descend the path, you see a thread of smoke rising ahead.

Warm Bower
This corner of the garden is cozily tucked into a natural alcove,
surrounded by stone bluffs on three sides. The sun is hot on your face. To
the south, the ground drops away, revealing a lush valley far below. The
path back to the garden curves up around an outcropping to the east.

Small shrubs dot this garden bower, but a single tall and wild bush
dominates the space. Its branches twist in intricate profusion, then leap
chaotically upward, spraying gold-veined leaves through the air.

>examine bush
The wild bush is not broad, but it is taller than you. Its leaves are
narrow, glossy, many-pointed, and veined with gold amid a yellow blush.
Clusters of brilliant orange berries hang half-concealed amid the tangled
black branches.

You catch a whiff of woodsmoke -- the same smoke you saw while descending
the path. You glance around for the fire...

...And realize that the smoke is drifting from the bush. You see no flames,
nor even ember-glow; but grey wisps curl from the coal-black stems and
branches. The smoke trails up from the bush, buoyed on its own heat, and
vanishes upward in a wind-tossed ribbon.

>take orange berries
You reach into the bush, and -- with your gloved hand -- carefully strip a
handful of berries from a branch.

After a few moments, their orange color dulls slightly, and the heat you
feel through the glove diminishes. Gingerly you prod a berry with your bare
finger. It's warm, but no longer scalding.

>e

Mountain Garden

>s
You step up to the balustrade and look out, to the south...

Marble Balcony
Below this gently curved balcony, the world drops away into a green vista.
The stony slopes of the mountainside beneath you crumble, invaded by
bracken and tree, until the mountain pines merge into verdant forest and a
lush valley floor. A bright thread marks a stream; a distant valley lake is
a silver arc. Beyond the valley, and around it, taller mountains stand like
patient shadows in the blue air.

In the center of the balcony, looking out -- as you are -- over the valley,
a white marble statue towers over you. Incongruously, you can see a small
gold mask balanced on the statue's face.

>examine statue
The statue is twice life size; it dwarfs you. Its form is curiously
abstract. You can make out no gender, no personality in the marble curves.
But... the statue gazes out from the balcony. Its weight is forward, its
head turned, as if something in the distant valley had just caught its
attention. Or... something rising from the valley, perhaps. For the chin is
raised; the eyes, if you could see them, would be level.

Those eyes are hidden by an absurdly small gold mask. The mask would not
fit a child, and is unusually flat besides. It's not so much worn as
balanced on the statue's brow.

>climb statue
You try to swing yourself up on the marble knee, but the statue shifts
unsteadily beneath your weight. You'd best not.

>push statue
You brace yourself against the statue and heave. It's heavy... but it tips,
slowly... and then bang it smacks down on the tiles. The gold mask flutters
gently down beside it.

>take gold mask
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.]

>examine gold mask
It looks like a gold paper mask, half life-size. But its curves are only
delicate shading; the mask is flat, a gold cutout of a face.

The face depicted is young, with an impression of strength overlaid by
exhaustion.

>don gold mask
Gingerly, you raise the mask to your face....

...Memory stirs...

A man and a woman; they lean on each other, a dim and distant exhaustion.
Between them, they cradle a dark-haired infant. It is the only thing in the
world, as they always are.

A silver head shakes; a hand draws back the blanket. The infant has a
clubbed foot -- twisted and drawn in.

The couple put out their hands, once again. Light curls out of the air.
Blue and green, violet and no color at all, luminous currents slide down
the infant's limbs. It twists and whines, fretting, but the child is
exhausted as well.

Then the light splinters and is gone. The foot is unchanged. The infant
gathers itself for another howl. Its parents rock it absently, but they are
looking at each other. The silver-haired one snaps a word -- both know the
anger is self-directed, and is despair.

>n

Mountain Garden

"Nothing delights a wizard's mind so much as a formal garden."

"As a focus of power?" --Eagerly.

The reply is a laugh. "Why spoil it?" And then soberly. "But as you carry
yourself through years and ages, do not hold such a garden -- even a living
one -- unchanged. Such an artful place is smaller than your mind; you
cannot inhabit it without growing small and comfortable within it. Build it
-- destroy it -- rewrite it from lifetime to lifetime. Some masters of
magic," the voice adds in afterthought, "come to prefer the gardening."

>n

Mountain Path

>n
You enter the narrow stairway and begin to descend. After only a few steps,
you find yourself at the bottom. Odd....

Dim Shed

"To stand in a dreamhold is to be no more than a thought in a wizard's
dream." Or so it is said... somewhere. Certainly this stairway is
changeable as a dream.

[The first time you enter a room, you'll see a detailed description. But if
you return to a room, you see just the room name, followed by a list of the
more portable objects lying around.

You can type "look" or "l" at any time to see the full description. But if
you get tired of that, try the "verbose" command. In "verbose" mode, the
game will give a detailed description of each room as you enter it -- every
time you move.]

>w

Curving Hall, South End

>n

Curving Hall

>e

Mosaic Room
The walls and ceiling of this room are entirely covered with tiny blue
tiles. On the east wall, a few black and grey tiles seem to depict birds on
the horizon of a mosaic sky. The only exit is an archway to the west.

A delicate cage of brass wire hangs from a curved stand in the center of
the room. Within the cage is a single ripe apple.

>examine cage
You've seen -- you might have seen -- such cages in the market, holding
songbirds in their shining wire embrace. This one, however, contains a ripe
and perfect apple. You cannot imagine why. The cage door is closed.

>examine apple
The apple looks ripe and fresh; it might have been plucked moments before
you entered the room.

>open cage
You pull open the wire door. Then you jerk back; something invisible seems
to burst from the cage. It rolls across the room like lightning or
dessicated time. It echoes.

The apple spots, rots, and sinks into itself in a single instant. Within a
heartbeat, the fruit is a withered husk -- as if it had sat in that cage
for decades.

[You may have made a mistake. You're not likely to get that apple back.
(One never knows, of course, but that decay looked very final.) What can
you do about it?

One option is to type "undo". This will let you "back up" one move -- back
to just before you opened the cage. Everything will be the same, except
that the cage will still be closed and the apple will still be fresh.

In this game, you can only "undo" one move in a row. So if you do something
else now (even "look" or "examine apple"), you won't be able to jump back
to before the cage opened. The "undo" command is intended only to fix
immediate mistakes.

If you want to go back more than one turn, you'll have to use the "restart"
or "restore" commands. Type "help saving" for more information.

(Actually, many games protect you from severe mistakes. Since this is an
introductory game, you don't really have to worry about accidentally
running into a dead end. If you truly need a fresh apple, you'll probably
find another way to get one.)]

>w

Curving Hall

>ne

Atelier
This cramped, boxy room appears to have been an artist's studio. The walls
and floor are splattered with paints of many colors. Strangely, the room is
nearly empty; you see no stacks of canvas or bottles of pigment. The exit
is southwest.

A rough wooden easel is set up at one end of the room. Displayed upon it is
a painting -- a bright mountain landscape.

At the other end of the room, a tripod props up what looks like a small
telescope.

A pigment-daubed board, no doubt the artist's palette, is sitting in a
corner.

>look in telescope
You bend and peer into the telescope's lens. You see a tiny dot of light in
the distance... and then the... world turns... sideways....




Metal Culvert
You find yourself standing in a dark culvert of some kind. The curving
walls are polished metal, antique with tarnish. To the south, the channel
ends in a circular glass barrier; to the north, it opens out into light.

>n
The light grows brighter as you walk up the culvert....

Mountain Pool
Jagged mountains tear the skies in every direction. They are unreal,
impossible peaks -- knife-like spires of rock. But in this sheltered nook,
life flourishes. A small mossy pool, cool and shadowed with tiny fish, has
gathered below a rock-spring.

On the shore of the pool is a brown paper mask.

>take brown mask
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.]

>examine brown mask
It looks like a brown paper mask, half life-size. But its curves are only
delicate shading; the mask is flat, a brown cutout of a face.

The face shows steely regret.

>don brown mask
Gingerly, you raise the mask to your face....

...Memory stirs...

In a darkened library, someone works alone. The tall shelves are crowded,
but the rows of titles fade into shadows; only the desk is illuminated. A
map is spread upon it. The pen, moving across its face, annotates and
speculates.

Nearly half the map is tinted red. Along the border, marks and notations
cluster like wasps.

The silver head snaps up, as an officer enters. He holds a pale cylinder,
the length of a tall man's finger. He places it on the desk; he bows; he
turns and leaves. At no point do his eyes rise from the floor.

The cylinder, unrolled, proves to be a length of parchment: filthy, closely
lettered. The tall figure reads it, once. Then the pen, taken up once
again.

In the blank heart of the red-tinted region, quick strokes now emblazon the
shape of a crutch.

>s
The world seems to smear out of shape as you move. After a few steps, you
see nothing but running colors....




Atelier
This cramped, boxy room appears to have been an artist's studio. The walls
and floor are splattered with paints of many colors. Strangely, the room is
nearly empty; you see no stacks of canvas or bottles of pigment. The exit
is southwest.

A rough wooden easel is set up at one end of the room. Displayed upon it is
a painting -- a bright mountain landscape.

At the other end of the room, a tripod props up what looks like a small
telescope.

A pigment-daubed board, no doubt the artist's palette, is sitting in a
corner.

>take mountain painting
Taken.

>look in telescope
You bend and peer into the telescope's lens. You see a tiny dot of light in
the distance... and then the... world turns... sideways....




Metal Culvert
You find yourself standing in a dark culvert of some kind. The curving
walls are polished metal, antique with tarnish. To the south, the channel
ends in a circular glass barrier; to the north, it opens out into light.

>n
The light grows brighter as you walk up the culvert....

Platform in the Void
You stand on a narrow wooden platform, which is suspended somehow in a
vast, incomprehensible space. The platform stretches to the east and west.
The space beyond is not dark, nor is it light... you are unable to focus
upon it.

>s
The world seems to smear out of shape as you move. After a few steps, you
see nothing but running colors....




Atelier
This cramped, boxy room appears to have been an artist's studio. The walls
and floor are splattered with paints of many colors. Strangely, the room is
nearly empty; you see no stacks of canvas or bottles of pigment. The exit
is southwest.

A rough wooden easel is set up at one end of the room.

At the other end of the room, a tripod props up what looks like a small
telescope.

A pigment-daubed board, no doubt the artist's palette, is sitting in a
corner.

>put desert painting on easel
You put the desert landscape painting on the easel.

>look in telescope
You bend and peer into the telescope's lens. You see a tiny dot of light in
the distance... and then the... world turns... sideways....




Metal Culvert
You find yourself standing in a dark culvert of some kind. The curving
walls are polished metal, antique with tarnish. To the south, the channel
ends in a circular glass barrier; to the north, it opens out into light.

>n
The light grows brighter as you walk up the culvert....

Red Desert
A stark desert is spread in every direction. The harsh grit beneath your
feet is littered with dusty stones, small and large. The sun is a red glare
on the horizon, turning the world to strokes of scarlet, rust, and shadow.

A crumpled white wad is lying here, half-buried in the sand.

>take wad
You scoop up the crumpled wad, and try to smooth it out. It proves to be a
letter of credit, or something similar.

>examine letter
"Letter in hand... sum of 5000... in reparation, military action of the
month of... fields, property, six barrels of wine, one cow..."

>s
The world seems to smear out of shape as you move. After a few steps, you
see nothing but running colors....




Atelier
This cramped, boxy room appears to have been an artist's studio. The walls
and floor are splattered with paints of many colors. Strangely, the room is
nearly empty; you see no stacks of canvas or bottles of pigment. The exit
is southwest.

A rough wooden easel is set up at one end of the room. Displayed upon it is
a painting -- a stark desert landscape.

At the other end of the room, a tripod props up what looks like a small
telescope.

A pigment-daubed board, no doubt the artist's palette, is sitting in a
corner.

>take desert painting
Taken.

>take palette
Taken.

>put palette on easel
You put the palette on the easel.

>look in telescope
You bend and peer into the telescope's lens. You see a tiny dot of light in
the distance... and then the... world turns... sideways....




Metal Culvert
You find yourself standing in a dark culvert of some kind. The curving
walls are polished metal, antique with tarnish. To the south, the channel
ends in a circular glass barrier; to the north, it opens out into light.

>n
The light grows brighter as you walk up the culvert....

Sea of White
You are in the midst of a choppy, heaving sea. Impossibly, you stand
balanced upon the milk-white waves. You can see no land in any direction.

A small tangle of string floats on the surface nearby.

>take string
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.

Note that your score (in the top right corner) is now "3 of 7, +1". The
"+1" indicates one optional goal achieved. THE DREAMHOLD has various "side
quests" -- extra discoveries you can make. You don't need to find these to
win the game. They're there for extra fun, and to add to the texture of the
game world. (How many optional discoveries are there? Explore and find
out!)

You can get a full account of your score by typing "score".]

>examine string
You draw the string out in your hands. It's less than a foot of crude,
hairy twine, and it's wracked with knots.

But strange -- each knot seems to have a different shape. If they are
letters, as they might be... you laboriously spell out the word PORTRAIT,
knotted over and over down the string.

>s
The world seems to smear out of shape as you move. After a few steps, you
see nothing but running colors....




Atelier
This cramped, boxy room appears to have been an artist's studio. The walls
and floor are splattered with paints of many colors. Strangely, the room is
nearly empty; you see no stacks of canvas or bottles of pigment. The exit
is southwest.

A rough wooden easel is set up at one end of the room. Lying on the easel
is a palette.

At the other end of the room, a tripod props up what looks like a small
telescope.

>sw

Curving Hall

>nw

Curving Hall at Pedestal
The dingy plaster walls of this corridor curve out of sight to the west and
southeast. Tiny candles provide the only illumination. Archways lead north
and northeast.

A short pedestal of black marble stands by the inner wall.

>n
You blink into the dimming light as you step through the arch.

Natural Passage
This is a narrow passageway, which winds between irregular stone walls into
the world's underdarkness. The passage was clearly not carved by human
hands. Creamy limestone laps and drips in ancient, water-worn folds. For
the first time, you have the sense of being far, far underground. The
archway to the south is the only source of light; the passage vanishes into
cave-blackness, somewhere to the north.

>n
You venture into the lightless passage...

Darkness
You are somewhere within utter darkness, somewhere within the earth.

[Oh, dear. You've walked into a very dark place.

Going "south" probably won't get you back; you can't tell directions in the
dark. So what now? One option is to type "undo". This will let you "back
up" one move -- back to just before you walked in here. Everything will be
the same, except that you'll be in the Natural Passage, and you'll be able
to see.

In this game, you can only "undo" one move in a row. So if you do something
else now (even "look" or "south"), you won't be able to jump back to the
lit Passage. The "undo" command is intended only to fix immediate mistakes.

If you want to go back more than one turn, you'll have to use the "restart"
or "restore" commands. Type "help saving" for more information.

Or you could stumble around in the dark, and try to find your way out.
Since this is an introductory game, there is a way out. And maybe more to
discover, as well.]

>s
You have no sense of direction in the dark.

You strain, hopelessly, to see anything. But perhaps your eyes are
adjusting somewhat... there is a dim glimmer of light in the distance.

>go toward light
You stumble slowly ahead, feeling blindly for a wall... and then you can
see the outline of your hand against the light.

Natural Passage
This is a narrow passageway, which winds between irregular stone walls into
the world's underdarkness. The passage was clearly not carved by human
hands. Creamy limestone laps and drips in ancient, water-worn folds. The
archway to the south is the only source of light; the passage vanishes into
cave-blackness, somewhere to the north.

>n
You venture into the lightless passage...

Darkness
Darkness is all around you... infinitely far away, and an inch from your
groping hands.

>go away from light
You set your back to the light, as best you can. And you move, slowly --
reaching ahead with every step -- into the empty and utter dark.

The trace of light dims behind you.

Darkness
Darkness is all around you... infinitely far away, and an inch from your
groping hands.

But you can make out the faintest glimmer of light, somewhere.

>go away from light
A faint drip of water echoes in the black. Perhaps you move along the verge
of a river.

The trace of light dims behind you.

Darkness
You are somewhere within utter darkness, somewhere within the earth.

But you can make out the faintest glimmer of light, somewhere.

>go away from light
Every step you take is invisibly, indistinguishably identical to the last.

The trace of light dims behind you.

Darkness
You are in the unchanging, unleavened darkness of the world below ground.

But you can make out the faintest glimmer of light, somewhere.

>go away from light
The black world moves invisibly past, as you advance into nowhere.

The trace of light dims behind you.

Darkness
You are in the unchanging, unleavened darkness of the world below ground.

But you can make out the faintest glimmer of light, somewhere.

>go away from light
Something moves against the face of the darkness.

But it is not light.




Subterrane World
The world is picked out, not in shades or tints or degrees of black; but in
qualities of darkness. Each has a name; each whispers to you. 

In utter night, you sense the cavernous space around you -- vaulted roof as
clear in the darkness as the rough-hewn floor. Without sight, you perceive
behemoth columns of stone, shaped to perfect smoothness and standing in
perfect circular array. Eyeless, you are aware of the vast carved form high
above.

In the center of the stone circle is an acute angle of darkness: a dagger,
balanced on its point.

>take dagger
You reach out (your hand, you suddenly notice, is the only indistinct form
in this sightlessness) and seize the dagger's hilt.

It is surprisingly heavy; and the hilt is obsidian, glassy-smooth against
your fingers. But your attention is gripped by the rent which the blade
leaves behind -- a narrow crack of emptiness against darkness.

[An extra discovery has been added to your score.]

>examine dagger
The dagger is of simple, unbeautiful angles -- broad triangular blade,
squared hilt, no guard or pommel. Its surface is an aching reflection of
the blackness around you. But the edge is oblique, the point blunt. This
blade could never have been used for mundane cleaving.

>enter rent
You move towards the rent.

The darkness parts around you. What remains is not light; but a flickering
motion, and a sound as of the voice of fluting wind...



...and then the flickering is light; ordinary, flickering flames, which
illuminate a comfortably familiar room.

Sitting Room (on the settee)
This room seems more inviting. The walls are painted with delicate patterns
of flowers, which merge into a soft-hued carpet beneath your feet. Two
chairs and a cushioned settee face a bright-flickering fireplace on the far
wall.

You see an empty hook above the fireplace.

You see doorways to the south and in the southeast corner of the room. A
white-painted door to the east is open.

>stand
You stand up.

>examine fire
If you doubted this was a dreamhold, you're certain now... the fireplace
holds no wood, no ash. An odd basket of coiled silver wire holds a heap of
glassy, glowing, cherry-red spheres. Insubstantial flames flicker above the
spheres, and a mild warmth touches your face and body. But the spheres do
not truly burn; they are not consumed.

>take sphere
With your gloved hand, you pluck one sphere from the glowing heap. Almost
immediately, its red light fades, leaving a dim grey glassiness.

Hmm. You cautiously hold your other hand above the grey sphere, then touch
it. You feel only cool glass.

>e

Curving Hall

>s

Curving Hall, South End

>w
You pull the door open, revealing a narrow flight of stairs ascending out
of sight. You follow them up.

Dark Dome, East
You stand at the east edge of a vast round space. It stretches out to the
west, arching into an immense dome. A diffuse illumination spreads across
the lower reaches, barely bright enough to see by.

There is an open archway to the east; beyond it, stairs descend. You can
also see a ladder in the distance, at the north edge of the dome.

>n

Dark Dome, North
You stand at the north edge of a vast round space. It stretches out to the
south, arching into an immense dome. A diffuse illumination spreads across
the lower reaches, barely bright enough to see by.

A ladder reaches both upwards and downwards from here, passing through
openings in the floor and in the dome's skirt. You can also see a doorway
off in the distance, at the far east edge of the dome.

>w

Dark Dome, West
You stand at the west edge of a vast round space. It stretches out to the
east, arching into an immense dome. A diffuse illumination spreads across
the lower reaches, barely bright enough to see by.

At the north edge of the dome, off in the distance, you can see a ladder.
All the way across the dome to the east, a doorway is barely visible.

>s

Dark Dome, South
You stand at the south edge of a vast round space. It stretches out to the
north, arching into an immense dome. A diffuse illumination spreads across
the lower reaches, barely bright enough to see by.

At the east edge of the dome, off in the distance, you can see a doorway.
All the way across the dome to the north, a ladder is barely visible.

>n

Dark Dome, Center
You stand at the center of a vast round space. An immense dome arches above
you. A diffuse illumination spreads across the lower reaches, barely bright
enough to see by.

In the distance to the east, you can see a doorway; a ladder is visible far
to the north.

A low metal pyramid stands in the center of the floor. Its surface shines
with a dim, oddly shifting gleam. Its base has hinges along one edge, and a
handle opposite.

>examine pyramid
It's a six-sided pyramid, perhaps a yard across and standing higher than
your knee. It seems to be made of metal, but it has a strange sheen -- as
if the surface were engraved with countless parallel lines. Hinges at the
base of one edge, and a handle, imply that the pyramid could be pulled
open.

>open pyramid
You crouch, seize the handle, and pull. The pyramid swings smoothly to the
side, and falls open. It seems to be hollow... strange, then, how heavy it
felt.

Revealed within is a conical basket of coiled wire.

>examine wire
It's a small construction of silver wire -- a spiralled cone, mouth-up. The
basket is empty.

>put sphere in wire
As you drop the grey sphere into the basket, its glassy surface flares with
a brilliant white light.

You shield your eyes as the dome is flooded with light.

>close pyramid
You heave the pyramid back upright, covering the basket. The white light
from the sphere is cut off; but gradually you see patterns in the darkness
above you. The dome is filled with flickering, jittering sparks of
patternless white light.

The images above you slowly change. The dome now contains tumbling bubbles,
each surrounded by a whirling cloud of gold light.

>wait
Time passes.

The images above you slowly change. The dome now contains shapeless blobs
of red light -- each filled with smaller speckles and spots. The blobs flow
slowly across the dome, like droplets of red wax in a hot sea.

>wait
Time passes.

The images above you slowly change. The dome now contains spiralled nets of
light, hung with beads in every shade of brown, ochre, and tan. The beads
spark and flash, flinging light at each other. The flashing patterns form
slow waves that surge and crest across the dome.

>wait
Time passes.

The images above you slowly change. The dome now contains overlapping disks
and lines of green light. They are in constant motion, growing, shrinking,
moving apart, collapsing together. Sometimes several link rigidly together,
move as one; and then drift apart. Occasionally a disk flares up, or
vanishes entirely.

>wait
Time passes.

The images above you slowly change. The dome now contains blue spheres of
light, whirling in the darkness. Each sphere is marked with brown and grey
patterns, like maps of an island archipelago.

>wait
Time passes.

The images above you slowly change. The dome now contains familiar stars.
Among the constellations, you can see the Iron Moth to the north; Parhu's
Galley and Juinua's Wall to the east; the Cloak of Night and the Southern
Axe to the south; the Doorstep of Heaven to the west; and the Crutch and
the Bull-and-Cow directly above you.

>examine bull
The Bull and Cow are small star-groups near the zenith. Jernos desired
Seroa, the wife of the Southern king. She turned herself into a sparrow and
fled; he turned himself into a horhawk and followed her. Seroa hid herself
in many other shapes, but each time Jernos changed into something that
could find her. Finally she turned herself into a bull. Jernos turned into
a cow, but a cow was too stupid to chase Seroa further. Seroa-the-bull
mounted the Jernos-the-cow and sired eight brass calves.

You've never been quite sure what the moral of that story was supposed to
be.

>examine crutch
The Crutch is a bright zig-zag of stars high overhead. King Maijnir the
Farsighted quarrelled with his son Walking Boy. He wounded Walking Boy's
foot, and then exiled him to walk the boundaries of his kingdom, bearing
only rags, tatters, and a crutch of gold.

>e

Starry Dome, East

>examine galley
Parhu's Galley is visible to the east. A row of dim stars mark the oars of
the galley slaves. Parhu flung himself into the sea and drowned, but he did
not rescind his oath, and so his slaves are bound to row forever after
Parhu's Ruby, the red star beyond the Galley's prow.

>examine wall
The stars of Juinua's Wall run high above the eastern horizon. Juinua of
Junorr was given a prophecy, that her blood would stain the walls of Junorr
before her thirtieth year. Instead of tearing down the city wall, she
ordered it built higher -- a new course of great stones every year. In her
twenty-ninth year, she was crushed by a stone as she supervised the work on
the wall. Or, depending who tells the tale, she died giving birth to a
stone; or she was murdered by the master builder; or she died of the flux
in an overcrowded city street.

>s

Starry Dome, South

>examine cloak
The Cloak of Night is a ragged patch of starless dark, low in the south,
just above the horizon. The Lady of Summer leaves it lying there half the
year, while she dances. In winter she takes up her cloak to wrap herself,
as she sits by the fire to tell stories.

The Cloak is low on the dome, just above your head. It seems low enough to
touch.

>take cloak
You reach up and pull. Heavy, black cloth flows silently down into your
arms.

[An extra discovery has been added to your score.]

>examine cloak
It's a heavy armful of black cloth. Black, blacker -- blacker than that.
But light, like twinkling dust, drifts in the deepest folds.

>don cloak
You swing the cloak around yourself. It is not so heavy on your shoulders;
but warm, very warm.

>examine axe
An irregular double-curve of stars, high in the south, the Axe takes the
form of the traditional southern weapon. The Hero of Torcova lived so close
to his axe that the storymongers called it his wife. (Fortunately for them,
he was a hero.) When he was mortally wounded at Deven, the axe agreed to
die in his place. The Hero remained nameless in Torcova, awaiting the
greatest battle to come, and the axe moved towards Heaven.

>w

Starry Dome, West

>examine doorstep
The Doorstep of Heaven is a near-perfect circle of stars in the western
sky. It marks the gate, or guards the gate, through which the dead travel
to the All-Place. Funereal ceremonies always begin when the Doorstep rises,
day or night.

>n

Starry Dome, North

>examine moth
The stars of the Iron Moth hang high in the northern sky. The Moth never
sets; it flutters constantly around and around the Utter North, which is
always near its bright left antenna. Lodestones are dust from the Moth's
wing.

>u
You climb up, through the dome, and a long way farther...

Translucent Dome
You are in a small round dome, much smaller than the vast dark space below.
The curving surface is translucent, bright with the daylight filtering in
from outside. The floor beneath your feet is a harsh metal grating. The
ladder runs from a hole in the grating, near the south side, up to a
matching opening in the dome above.

A low platform fills the center of the floor. The platform is piled high
with split lengths of wood.

A tall triangle of beaten copper rises along the north side of the dome.

>u
You climb up and out.

Catwalk, South
This railless catwalk circles the outer edge of a pale dome. You stand at
the southern edge of the circle; the catwalk disappears around the dome to
the east and west. A few iron steps lead up to an opening in the dome, from
which a ladder descends inside.

The dome is nestled high on the shoulder of a sunlit mountain peak. Below
you, a small terrace is filled with knotted and spiralled garden paths. And
far below that, green and bright, a lush valley spreads out into the
distance.

>w
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving west around the dome.

Catwalk, West
You are at the western edge of a catwalk which circles a pale dome. The
dome rises from the face of a sunlit mountain peak, which towers to the
north. To the south, the stone slopes descend to a wide valley, shining
green in the afternoon light.

>n
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving north around the dome.

Catwalk, North
You stand on a narrow, railless catwalk, which girdles the translucent dome
to the south. To the north, the mountain rises massively above you. But the
dome stands on its own promontory; the mountain face is several yards away.
The ravine between dome and mountain is deep and jagged.

There is a tiny ledge on the face of the mountain. You can just make out a
black mask balanced on the ledge.

>e
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving east around the dome.

Catwalk, East
You are at the eastern edge of a catwalk which circles a pale dome. The
dome rises from the face of a sunlit mountain peak, which towers to the
north. To the south, the stone slopes fall to a verdant valley.

>s
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving south around the dome.

Catwalk, South

>d
You step up to the opening and climb down into the dome.

Translucent Dome

A low platform fills the center of the floor. The platform is piled high
with split lengths of wood.

A tall triangle of beaten copper rises along the north side of the dome.

>examine copper triangle
It is a thin sheet of hammered copper, as wide at the base as your
outstretched arms. The sheet tapers as it rises, curving inward as it hugs
the dome's inner surface. Its peak is halfway up the dome. The shape
reminds you of a billowing sail.

The copper triangle stands to the north, but its base rests in a narrow
track that runs all the way around the dome.

>examine track
A narrow circular track runs around the room, a bare finger's width from
the dome's lower edge. The copper sail rests in this track on the north
side of the dome.

>examine wood
The wood is laid out in an immense, semicircular heap. It looks like
nothing so much as a bonfire, ready for the spark.

>put orange berry in wood
You toss the orange berry into the heaped wood. It bursts and flares,
spattering sparks of fiery juice. The wood crackles, slow to catch... but,
after a few moments, a tongue of flame is licking up through the pile.

A few moments more, and the heap is a roaring bonfire. You blink, turning
from the intense heat.

>u
The sky fades to night as you climb.

Catwalk, South; Night

>w
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving west around the dome.

Catwalk, West; Night

>n
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving north around the dome.

Catwalk, North; Night

The copper sail inside the dome is visible here, a dark silhouette. It
blocks the firelight; a long black shadow falls north across the catwalk
and out into the empty air.

>examine shadow
The shadow of the sail is an immensely elongated triangle, stretching out
to the north, across the catwalk and out into space. It's odd, in fact, how
it seems to hang in the air. A strip of utter black beyond the catwalk,
reaching as far as the mountain face...

>n
You edge one foot forward onto the path of black shadow. It feels... not
substantial, but somehow resistant to your probing. You gingerly press
down. The shadow bears your weight.

Clenching your fists -- wishing for a handrail -- you take a step forward.

And another. In a few strides, you have crossed the ravine.

Ledge; Night
You are standing at the end of a long, black tongue of shadow which hangs
incomprehensibly in empty air. The strip of darkness bridges a deep ravine
between a fire-lit dome to the south, and the cliff-face of a towering
mountain, to the north.

A narrow ledge angles across the mountain face, directly in front of you.
Balanced on the ledge is a torn black mask.

>take black mask
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.]

>examine black mask
It looks like a black paper mask, half life-size. But its curves are only
delicate shading; the mask is flat, a black cutout of a face.

This mask is torn. The left part of the black face, through the eye, has
been ripped away. What remains has a worn expression of irritation -- and
perhaps, far below, doubt.

>don black mask
Gingerly, you raise the mask to your face....

...Memory stirs...

The one who stands in the field has silver hair, but it is cropped, and
faded with streaks of white. The field has no corn, only muddy ruts.

Behind the tall figure is a city; a bright city, with white spires, but
perhaps a cold one. There are lights within it, but they do not move.

Before the tall figure is an army. Its soldiers are arrayed in mail and
gilt tabards. The sign on their tabards is unrecognizably changed. There
are very many of them, and they have come a very long way, but now they too
are still.

The front rank shifts, and three figures come forward. Each carries a tall
spear, held upright; brilliant blue luminosity whirls and knots on each
spearpoint. The light falls on the silver-haired figure, and casts a long
red shadow behind him, pointing back at the city.

The three soldiers begin to bring their spears down. The blue radiance
flares hungrily.

Then it goes out. The tall figure has raised one hand. No more than that;
the spears are clattering atop each other in the mud, and the three
soldiers are on their knees, huddled over their empty hands.

The gilt ranks shift again, and now it is no ordered movement. Mail-bound
faces look up, at the aching black opacity which has begun to open above
the silver one's raised hand. The hurting blackness is the sky now, and the
army begins to run--

...your memory ends abruptly.

>s
You move gingerly back to the safety of the catwalk.

Catwalk, North; Night

The copper sail inside the dome is visible here, a dark silhouette. It
blocks the firelight; a long black shadow falls north across the catwalk
and out into the empty air.

>e
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving east around the dome.

Catwalk, East; Night

>s
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving south around the dome.

Catwalk, South; Night

>d
You step up to the opening and climb down into the smoky heat of the dome.

Translucent Dome

A low platform fills the center of the floor. Upon it is a blazing bonfire.
Its heat fills the dome, hot enough to sting on the skin.

A tall triangle of beaten copper rises along the north side of the dome.

>d
You descend.

Starry Dome, North

>d
You climb down through a narrow shaft...

South Alcove
This is a small, curved alcove, off a large chamber to the north. A plain
iron ladder leads up through a shaft.

A vast machine spins endlessly in the chamber to the north.

>n

Orrery
You stand in a wide, tall, and dimly lit chamber. It has six sides; smaller
alcoves open to the north and south.

The chamber is dominated by a vast machine: an engine of gears, shafts, and
clattering motion. It is primarily a great stately disk of brass which
turns on a tilted axis. Smaller wheels pirouette on the disk's face,
bearing globes of delicate glass in their complicated courses.

The great brass disk continues its revolution. The silver wheel is borne
out of reach.

You notice a blue mask fluttering from one of the glass globes on the
machine's wheels.

>examine brass disk
The brass disk nearly fills the room. It rises at a sharp angle; its lower
edge is a few inches above the floor, but the opposite edge approaches the
high roof. Intricate arcs and lines are engraved across its surface,
measuring you know not what. The disk turns with a slow, steady rotation.

A large globe of blue glass is embedded at the disk's center. The globe
bears a delicate pattern of brown and white, like a map of islands in an
impossible curved sea. The globe is fixed; the disk rotates around it.

A silver wheel makes its own revolutions on the lower left side of the
disk. Opposite it, on the upper right side, a copper wheel turns. The
wheels are also carried slowly around with the great disk's motion. Each
wheel bears its own colored globes.

The great brass disk continues its revolution.

>examine blue globe
The blue globe rests, unmoving, at the center of the great brass machine.
It is mottled with delicate brown and white patterns -- as if the map of an
island archipelago had been painted on a sphere.

The silver wheel whirls past the top of its orbit. The copper wheel,
opposite it, is at its lowest.

>examine copper wheel
The copper wheel is incised with precise radial lines. At its center is a
banded globe of red glass. There is a small green globe at the wheel's rim,
circling slowly as the wheel turns.

The copper wheel now occupies the lower side of the great brass disk, as
the engine continues its stately revolution. The green globe has passed the
outermost edge of the brass disk.

The great brass disk continues its revolution. The copper wheel is borne
out of reach.

>examine red globe
At the center of the copper wheel is a large globe of red glass. It is
banded in every shade and tint -- crimson, rust, scarlet, magenta, rose.

The great brass disk continues its revolution.

>examine green globe
A globe of green glass revolves around the edge of the copper wheel. The
green surface is irregularly pocked and cratered. The globe is currently
passing the center of the brass disk.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the great disk. The silver
wheel is at the lowest.

>examine silver wheel
The silver wheel is engraved with spiralling moiré metrics. At its center,
a globe of violet glass rotates slowly. A smaller globe of tan is carried
around the silver wheel's rim with its motion. The tan globe is itself
circled with heavy rings of frosted glass.

The silver wheel now occupies the lower side of the great brass disk, as
the engine continues its stately revolution. The ringed tan globe is
swinging past the center of the brass disk, and the blue globe which rests
there.

The great brass disk continues its revolution. The silver wheel is borne
out of reach.

>examine violet globe
At the center of the silver wheel is a swollen globe of glittering violet
glass, streaked with silver and black.

The great brass disk continues its revolution.

>examine tan globe
A globe of tan glass revolves around the edge of the silver wheel. It is
currently passing the outer edge of the brass disk. The tan globe is
circled by heavy rings of frosty white; you can see a blue mask caught in
the rings.

The silver wheel whirls past the top of its orbit. The copper wheel,
opposite it, is at its lowest.

>wait
Time passes.

The great brass disk continues its revolution. The copper wheel is borne
out of reach.

>wait
Time passes.

The great brass disk continues its revolution.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the great disk. The silver
wheel is at the lowest. The tan globe, at the nadir of its own revolution
around that wheel, is sweeping just inches above the floor. The mask,
fluttering from the tan globe, is now within reach.

>take tan globe
You grab hold of one of the globe's rings. Your hand knocks the blue mask
loose, and it falls to the floor.

But the silver wheel continues merrily on its way... and in seconds your
feet leave the floor. You are swinging higher into the air, sprawled across
the wheel.

The silver wheel swings away from the floor.

[Great... the mask is lying on the floor now, but you're up in the air and
rising higher every second. You might want to release the ring, slide down
to the floor, and take the mask. Or maybe you want to continue your ride.
Up to you.]

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel bears you higher.

You catch sight of something hanging in the gloom above the machine. It
looks like a grey cord, or strip, of some soft material. It dangles
directly over the topmost edge of the great, inclined brass disk.

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel swings past the highest point of the great disk. You are
not quite at the upper edge, however; the tan globe is still rotating away
from the center.

>d
You release your grip, and slide helplessly down the face of the machine,
towards the blue globe. You twist desperately... and manage to land,
crouching, on the globe's upper surface.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The silver wheel, opposite it, is directly below. The tan globe,
carried on the silver wheel's rotation, is swinging past you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The green globe, carried on the copper wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The copper wheel, opposite it, is directly below.

>wait
Time passes.

The tan globe, carried on the silver wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The silver wheel, opposite it, is directly below.

>wait
Time passes.

The green globe, carried on the copper wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The tan globe, carried on the silver wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The copper wheel, opposite it, is directly below.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The silver wheel, opposite it, is directly below. The tan globe
and the green globe are both swinging past the heart of the machine.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The copper wheel, opposite it, is directly below.

>wait
Time passes.

The tan globe, carried on the silver wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The green globe, carried on the copper wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The silver wheel, opposite it, is directly below.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The tan globe, carried on the silver wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The copper wheel, opposite it, is directly below.

>wait
Time passes.

The green globe, carried on the copper wheel's rotation, is swinging past
you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The silver wheel, opposite it, is directly below. The tan globe,
carried on the silver wheel's rotation, is swinging past you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The brass machine revolves remorselessly around you.

>wait
Time passes.

The silver wheel spins past the highest point of the brass disk, directly
above you. The copper wheel, opposite it, is directly below. The green
globe, carried on the copper wheel's rotation, is swinging past you.

>d
You slip from the sphere and slide down. The green sphere is just below,
and you manage to roll onto it -- although you are now spread-eagled across
its rough surface. And rotating gently. How uncomfortable.

The copper wheel swings away from the floor.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel bears you higher.

>wait
Time passes.

The copper wheel swings past the highest point of the great disk. The green
globe is at its outer edge -- nearly at the chamber's roof. The grey strip
may be within reach....

>take strip
From your unstable perch, you reach up... and touch soft, heavy leather. It
comes free with no effort at all. You snatch wildly, and manage to keep the
grey strip from slithering away from you.

The copper wheel swings away from the ceiling.

[An extra discovery has been added to your score.]

>examine strip
It's a belt of soft, heavy, worn grey leather. Tiny dark stitches trace a
pattern of curved feathers, or perhaps scales, across the leather -- frayed
in places, but still visible.

The copper wheel continues its descent.

>d
You allow yourself to slide off the green globe. Oof.

Orrery
You stand in a wide, tall, and dimly lit chamber. It has six sides; smaller
alcoves open to the north and south.

The chamber is dominated by a vast machine: an engine of gears, shafts, and
clattering motion. It is primarily a great stately disk of brass which
turns on a tilted axis. Smaller wheels pirouette on the disk's face,
bearing globes of delicate glass in their complicated courses.

You can also see a blue mask here.

The silver wheel whirls past the top of its orbit. The copper wheel,
opposite it, is at its lowest.

>don belt
You wrap the belt around your waist, under the cloak, and tie the ends
loosely.

The great brass disk continues its revolution. The copper wheel is borne
out of reach.

>take blue mask
Taken.

The great brass disk continues its revolution.

[Your score has gone up.]

>examine blue mask
It looks like a blue paper mask, half life-size. But its curves are only
delicate shading; the mask is flat, a blue cutout of a face.

The face shows distant interest.

The copper wheel spins past the highest point of the great disk. The silver
wheel is at the lowest.

>don blue mask
Gingerly, you raise the mask to your face....

...Memory stirs...

The rooflines of the city are slate over brick; but the tower is older
stone. A silver-haired figure looks down from an embrasured window. The
largest building in view faces the tower, across the square, perhaps in
challenge. Its brick arches frame an intricate web wrought of iron. The web
shapes a symbol: an ornately styled crutch.

A small carved crutch hangs at the figure's throat; but this is simple, a
few splinters of wood. Absent fingers have smoothed the rough wood to a
polish, here and there.

The people in the square do not look up; they go about their business
quietly. Or -- all do but one. One dark cloak is thrown down suddenly. A
woman stands revealed in bright-dyed rags. She is shouting, up at the
tower, out through the square, around at the citizens who move away from
her. She spins, gesticulating. She points at the arched building; she
points at the tower.

Above, looking down, a brow furrows beneath silver hair.

But the guards are coming, pushing through the crowd that melts away from
the square. In moments, the ragged woman too is cleared from sight.

The face in the window watches this. Not, perhaps, pleased; but satisfied
enough. And then the face turns away, back to the books and artifices
within the stone tower.

The great brass disk continues its revolution. The silver wheel is borne
out of reach.

>n

North Alcove
This is a small, curved alcove, off a large chamber to the south. An
archway to the north reveals a flight of ascending stairs.

A pale gauzy rag is crumpled at the alcove's edge.

"But is it reality?" The question sparkles with unheeded eagerness; the
questioner's gaze is fiercely entangled among the turning rings and
delicate gears.

"Of course it is not," comes the reply. "The model has not even the right
form. The sky is not full of wheels upon wheels. But--" overrunning the
interruption "--that does not mean the model lacks power." The voice is
suddenly dry. "Symbolism and intent, child. What better symbol for power
than this: a machine just within our own limits of understanding?"

The machine hums through new configurations.

>take rag
You lift the rag and spread it in your hands. It's finer than you had
originally thought -- a delicate cobwebby gauze -- but the weave is wracked
with holes.

The machine clatters and whirrs.

>examine rag
The scrap is perfectly round; its weave spirals like a cobweb, and the fine
strands glint pearl-pale. But holes mar it everywhere, as if an uncaring
child had forced fingers through the gauze again and again.

The machine spins on.

>u
You ascend the narrow stairs to a white door, which you pull open.

Curving Hall, West End
The curving corridor ends here, in a blank plaster wall relieved by a
single window. The window looks out on a strange subterranean prospect to
the west. You can return east, pass through the archway to the north, or
take the stairs which descend to the south.

>examine window
A broad glass pane -- inhumanly smooth and flawless -- looks out over a
dark cavern.

This end of the corridor seems to be deep underground. A natural cave
spreads out below; its mammoth columns and cascades of flowstone are only
dimly picked out by the candlelight behind you. The farther reaches are
hidden in darkness. But the shining waterfall before you is easily visible.
A stream pours in from your right, tumbles from a ledge, and plummets into
a pit beneath the window. The water seems to sparkle with some natural
phosphorescence.

>n

Arboretum
The walls here are painted white and are utterly undecorated. An archway
leads south.

In the center of the room stands an earthenware tub. From it sprout a
tangle of vines, broad fan-like leaves, and an enormous golden flower. The
luxuriant growth clashes, you think, with the room's stark emptiness.

An iron key is balanced neatly on the edge of the tub.

>take iron key
Taken.

[Another key -- always a pleasant find. Remember that it could unlock
either a door you have not yet found, or one you have already tried and
found locked.]

>smell flower
You lean forward and take a deep breath of the flower's aroma.

Memory nearly bursts through.




Dank Jungle (in the earthenware tub)
You are standing waist-deep in an empty earthenware tub, in the midst of a
trackless jungle.

Heavy, entangled trunks and vines loom in every direction, as far as you
can see -- and you can't see far. The sky is entirely obscured by layers of
vegetation. Only a murky green light filters down to you. But golden
flowers dot the trees, like bursts of sun.

>stand
You swing your legs out of the tub, and find the world swinging around
you...




Arboretum
The walls of the room are painted in green slashes, like the trunks of
uncounted trees, and splashed with gold. An archway leads south.

In the center of the room stands an earthenware tub. From it sprout a
tangle of vines, broad fan-like leaves, and an enormous golden flower.

>s

Curving Hall, West End

>e

Curving Hall at Pedestal

A short pedestal of black marble stands by the inner wall.

>ne

Harp Chamber
Broad golden pillars march around the edge of this circular chamber. The
walls between the pillars are deeply set, painted in variegated shades of
blue and sea-green, and lit from some hidden source. An archway leads
southwest, and there is a door to the east. The eastern door is closed;
blinding light seeps out around its edges.

In the center of the room, the remains of a tall harp stand in proud ruin.

Off to one side, lying on the floor, you see something that looks like a
short bundle of straw.

>examine harp
This once-proud instrument looks as if it was destroyed in inferno --
although the room shows no other signs of a fire. The harp's pillar and
frame are blackened and cracked; the soundbox is split apart. The few
remaining strings are curled knots of ash.

"What is this," you wonder, "in a wizard's house?" A failed spell? A
defeated enemy? A strayed memory? Or a warning, or a word of past or
prophecy. Or a splinter of charred wood.

>examine straw
You take a closer look at the bundle of straw. Your best guess is that it's
a torch of some sort. The straw is tied tightly at one end, forming a
handle; the other end is splayed, and seems to be slightly charred.

>take torch
Taken.

>examine door
Intolerable brilliance seeps around the edges of the closed door. You can
see no keyhole, only a simple latch.

>open door
The door is jammed fast against its latch; you can move neither of them. It
feels as if a mountain's weight leans against the other side of the door.

>sw

Curving Hall at Pedestal

A short pedestal of black marble stands by the inner wall.

>n
You blink into the dimming light as you step through the arch.

Natural Passage

>put orange berry in torch
You thrust the orange berry into the straw bundle. It bursts, spattering
juice that immediately flashes to flame. Sparks lodge throughout the
straw... which crackles in response. In seconds the torch is burning
brightly.

>n

Vaulting Cavern
A high, arched space opens around you, deep within the earth. The floor is
unevenly interspersed with stalagmites and stone columns; your torchlight
glitters in droplets from the stalactites above. Between the pale, hanging
pinnacles of frozen stone, a vein of dark ore streaks the vault.

A narrow passage leads away to the south. A broader one enters on the west
side; it once crossed the cave, but the eastern exit has collapsed. A low
crawl runs northeast. At one edge of the cave, a pit descends abruptly.
Wisps of steam rise from its depths.

>w

Shore of River
You stand on the eastern shore of a black river -- a silent sheet of
mirror-dark water which slips by as you watch. Somewhere, far to the south,
you hear the thin roar of falling water. A broad passage leads back to the
east.

The far shore is a narrow ledge of scree. You can see a green mask lying
amid the rubble there.

>put white berry in river
You toss a white berry into the water.

The response catches your breath away: planes of frost crackle across the
river's surface. Water eddies up around the obstruction, and is subsumed as
quickly. The ice snaps and groans, cracking and splitting and freezing
again faster than you can follow.

In seconds, an uneven sheet of ice has formed across the entire width of
the river. It seems solid, although water hisses and bubbles underneath.

>w
Treading carefully, you cross the ice.

Far Shore of River
You have reached the western side of the subterranean river. A narrow shelf
of loose rubble slopes down to the water's frozen edge. The ice still spans
the river, although it is slowly wearing away in the silent current. The
shore does not extend far up-stream or down; but at the top of the slope, a
narrow crawl leads southwest, away from the river-passage.

A green mask is lying in the scree.

You can see the upstream edge of the ice slowly, but steadily, wearing away
in the current.

>take green mask
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.]

>examine green mask
It looks like a green paper mask, half life-size. But its curves are only
delicate shading; the mask is flat, a green cutout of a face.

The face depicted shows satisfaction, but no triumph.

The ice creaks alarmingly.

>don green mask
Gingerly, you raise the mask to your face....

...Memory stirs...

A tent rests in mud; it is rigidly upright, defying its stains and any
weariness. Once-gold laces twitch against once-white cloth. Then a figure
is emerging. It too is rigidly upright, stained and dirtied, although the
hair remains silver.

Facing the tent are four soldiers. The man they surround is a soldier too;
but his red sashes are hasty, crudely torn from some flag and stitched to a
soldier's common clothes. He looks too young for them.

The man carries no weapon, though his escorts eye him as if he might pull
one out of any puddle of mud. What he carries instead is a length of hacked
wood with a shattered handle. He kneels -- in the mud -- and lays it at the
tall figure's feet.

The eyes that peer down from beneath silver hair seem only tired. The
figure turns away, and reaches for the tent flap again. But a fist clenches
on the lacing; harsh yellow light splinters the air.

A length of wood, which might once have been a crutch -- once, a war ago --
flares into fire, ember, and ash.

>sw

River Crawl
You are crouched in a narrow twisting crawlway. A faint rushing sound,
distant above you, reveals that you are some way below the dark river. The
crawl slopes upward to the northeast, back the way you came, and angles
even more sharply downward to the southeast.

>d
You continue crawling down the steepening slope. You soon find it difficult
to maintain your grip...

Then, with a horrible lurch of your stomach, you slip. The stone floor
drops away entirely; your torch goes spinning through empty space as you
flail, falling, for a hold that is not there.

After a long second, you slam into a rocky ledge.

Ledge in Pit
You are balanced on a ledge, leaning against the wall of a twisty,
irregular pit. Across from you, and slightly above, you can see a narrow
opening in the wall. A climbable rough path leads upward. You might be able
to descend further, but the pit beneath you is nearly vertical, and the
stone is damp and slippery with condensation.

A warm breath of air rises slowly up the pit, steadily, carrying with it an
eddying stream of mist.

Your torch, thankfully, has landed nearby.

>put white berry in pit
The white berry vanishes into the depths, glancing crystalline motes from
the stone as it falls.

Seconds later, an icy crackle resounds from far below. The warm mist turns
in an instant to a hard glitter in the air, as a wave of cold billows up
the pit. The walls bloom white into frost.

>take torch
You pick up the flaming torch.

>d
You slowly inch your way down the pit.

Deep in Pit
The shaft is roughly vertical here, and you cling to holds in the wall,
hoping desperately that you do not slip. Below you, the pit narrows even
further; the smooth walls gleam with ice. The climb above looks marginally
safer.

The air is chill, and a skein of frost furs the stone all around.

The cold seems a little less bitter now.

>wait
Time passes.

>wait
Time passes.

The air grows milder; the frost on the pit walls is thinning.

>wait
Time passes.

The last traces of frost are gone now.

>d
You brace your knees and back against the smooth stone, one way and the
other, and begin the slow descent.

Depths of Pit
You hang in a narrow shaft, wedged knees-to-back between the walls. One
hand clutches your torch; with the other, you cling to an angle in the
rock. You are certain you cannot keep hold here for long.

You see a tarnished bracelet before you, wedged into a hollow in the pit
wall.

Below you, the shaft widens out -- an impossible descent, which leads only
to a bubbling underground pool, jagged with rocks and shattered ice.

>take bracelet
You steady your hold, lean slightly forwards, and manage to pop the
tarnished bracelet out of its hollow. Even better, you manage not to drop
it down the shaft.

The air rising from the pit carries a hint of warmth.

[An extra discovery has been added to your score.]

>u
You slowly chimney your way back upwards.

Deep in Pit

A wisp of steam rises past you now.

>u
You slowly inch your way back upwards.

Ledge in Pit

A warm breath of air rises slowly up the pit, steadily, carrying with it an
eddying stream of mist.

>u
You reach the top of the pit safely.

Vaulting Cavern

The warm current of air is stronger now, and wisps of steam rise from the
pit.

>ne

Confusing Passage
The passageway runs from southwest to northeast, more or less. Great
columns and masses of stone rise from floor to ceiling; the tunnel divides
and enjoins around them, a confusing wrangle of minor branches.

>ne
You pick your way through the stone formations.

Dead End
The passage from the southwest comes to an abrupt end here, in a round,
water-worn alcove. The eastern wall is of dressed granite -- an intrusion
in these deep natural caverns. A heavy iron door is set into the wall; it
is tightly shut.

>e
You push on the door -- and then set yourself and heave again; for it is as
massive as it looks, and weighted to close of its own accord. By leaning
hard against the iron, you get it open, and slip through.

Cistern, West
You are at the edge of an immense and empty elliptical chamber. The walls
are of granite blocks, tightly fitted and dressed, bare of window or
ornament. It feels like a vast cistern, not a place for human habitation.
The only exit is the door directly west.

The floor is a flat, perfect plane of black stone... or metal... or glass.
You can't tell what it is. The roof, far above, is an equally flat and
perfect surface of featureless, luminescent white. Both spread out
eastward, defining the chamber between them. And halfway in between, a
glass catwalk runs around the wall, girdling the room.

A black column rises along the east wall, from the black floor up to the
catwalk.

The iron door swings to with a faint boom.

>e

Cistern, East
You are at the eastern side of the elliptical cistern, standing next to a
low glass platform. The platform is about three strides across; it juts out
from the granite wall, a bare inch above the dead-black floor.

High above you, a glass catwalk runs around the room's perimeter.

A black column rises along the east wall, from the black floor up to the
catwalk. It passes just to the right of the platform.

A heavy iron lever rises from the platform, by the wall.

>pull lever
(first stepping onto the glass platform)
You pull the lever, which clunks stiffly down. The clunk is echoed from
below you.

A curious thick gurgle sounds, somewhere below you.

>d
You step from the platform down onto the black surface.

The gurgle is louder now.

>z
Time passes.

Suddenly, the black surface beneath you -- the entire floor -- begins
sinking away, in ripples, like draining oil. The black column lengthens (or
is uncovered) as it goes. The true bottom of the cistern is quickly
revealed: a deep, sloping well, lined with granite blocks, as the walls
are.

You are borne down with the tide, until the last few courses of stone
emerge from the blackness beneath your feet.

Cistern, Bottom
You are at the bottom of the cistern, at the edge, where the down-sloping
floor meets the east wall. Directly above you hangs the glass platform;
yards above that, the catwalk circumnavigates the room; and above that, the
white ellipse of the ceiling spreads its featureless radiance.

A black column rises along the east wall, from the floor up to the catwalk.
It passes just to the right of the platform.

At the lowest angle of the floor, just by the wall, you see a black circle
-- a small disk of the featureless substance which once floored this entire
chamber. The black column merges into its rim.

A heavy iron wheel is set into the eastern wall.

[If you get tired of typing "look" or "l" every time you return to a room,
you can try the "verbose" command. In "verbose" mode, the game will give a
detailed description of each room as you enter it -- every time you move.]

>z
Time passes.

>turn wheel
You spin the wheel to the left until it stops. A faint vibration within the
metal -- perceptible only when you laid hands on it -- slowly stills.

Between a breath and a breath, the black column vanishes. It goes from the
top end down -- like a rope cut loose from the catwalk, slithering straight
down into the well without a waver or a splash.

The remaining circle of black sinks away, revealing a brass grating at the
bottom of the slope.

You now see a line of handholds -- a ladder -- cut into the wall, where the
column previously rose. They ascend from the cistern's bottom, where you
stand, past the glass platform, up to the catwalk.

>u
You seize the stone handholds and begin climbing.

Cistern, East (on the glass platform)

Handholds cut into the wall, to the right of the platform, form a ladder
leading both up and down.

A heavy iron lever rises from the platform, by the wall.

>u

Cistern Catwalk, East
You stand on the catwalk -- or rather, in the catwalk. The glass surface is
curved, forming a shallow trough. It begins here, on the east side of the
cistern, and follows the wall around to the north.

Just past the end of the catwalk, a ladder runs down the wall.

A heavy brass pipe protrudes from the wall, between the catwalk and the
ladder. The end of the pipe is a curved fitting, which ends in a graceful
brass spout. But the spout does not point down; it curves to the right,
towards the ladder.

A red mask is lying in the trough.

>take red mask
Taken.

[Your score has gone up.]

>examine red mask
It looks like a red paper mask, half life-size. But its curves are only
delicate shading; the mask is flat, a red cutout of a face.

The face depicted wears a mix of confidence and anger.

You raise your head. You think you can hear voices in the distance.

>don red mask
Gingerly, you raise the mask to your face....

...Memory stirs...

True and heavy beams of wood frame the hall; it is dominated by a high
table. At the head of the table, a tall figure stands -- silver hair,
intricately stitched robes -- drawing all eyes.

A sharp gesture. To one side, a half-grown boy frowns, tries to ask a
question. He is shushed fiercely and without a glance.

At the door, uniformed guards carry in a bundle of cloth. The silver-haired
figure stares at it -- stares at it for long moments.

A guard, moved finally by the silence, unfolds the cloth. Eyes jerk; but
there is still no sound.

Eventually, the tall figure moves a hand again. The wet red stains that
have been revealed sparkle, glow, and slowly vanish from the cloth. It is
only a gesture; it is all anyone can do; it is nothing.

Muffling a cry, the boy leaps up and limps for the door. Hurrying, his
uneven steps are more halt than usual. His face twists in pain; but no one
moves to help him.

The distant voices are growing more distinct, if not louder.

>examine pipe
The pipe is a thick tube of hammered brass, with heavy fittings. It extends
about a foot from the wall; it is just beyond the catwalk's end and just
above the catwalk's level. The end of the pipe is a graceful curved spout,
which bends towards the ladder.

The spout looks slightly loose on its fitting, as if you could turn it.

>turn spout
You rotate the spout to the left. It now curves out over the catwalk.

A note of laughter peaks amid the voices.

>n

Cistern Catwalk, Northeast
You stand in the glass trough, on the northeast side of its arc. It runs
northwest and southeast from here.

A large, curved slab of glass is leaning in the trough here. It rests on
edge, nearly upright, although the way it wedges against the sides keeps it
from falling.

You can also see two blobs of gum (a small gum blob and a big gum blob)
here.

>take slab, small gum, big gum
large glass slab: The slab seems somewhat jammed in place, but you give a
tug and lift it free.
small gum blob: Taken.
big gum blob: Taken.

>nw

Cistern Catwalk, North
You stand in the glass trough, on the north side of the chamber. It runs
east and west from here. The catwalk is somewhat cracked at this point. The
cracks spiderweb several feet of the glass surface; at their center, a
small hole is broken right through.

>examine hole
Several cracks converge, leaving a gap in the glass surface the size of
your thumb.

The distant voices natter imperiously.

>put small gum in hole
The blob fits perfectly into the hole; the resin squishes firmly around the
edges.

>w

Cistern Catwalk, Northwest
You stand in the glass trough, on the northwest side of the chamber. It
runs southwest and northeast from here. The catwalk is rather cracked at
this point. A web of cracks spreads nearly across the trough; at their
center, a large hole is broken right through.

>examine hole
Several cracks converge, leaving a gap in the glass surface the size of
your fist.

>put big gum in hole
The blob fits perfectly into the hole; the resin squishes firmly around the
edges.

>sw

Cistern Catwalk, West
You stand in the glass trough, at the west edge of the chamber. It runs
south and north from here. The catwalk is heavily cracked at this point.
The cracks spiderweb several feet of the glass surface; at their center, a
medium-sized hole is broken right through.

>examine hole
Several cracks converge, leaving a gap in the glass surface the size of an
egg.

>s

Cistern Catwalk, Southwest
You stand in the glass trough, on the southwest side of its arc. It runs
southeast and northwest from here.

Parallel waves of cracks mar the glass surface. The fractures are even
thicker to the east; there the trough seems ready to fall into splinters.

>se
The glass squeals alarmingly, and you feel sharp-edged splinters shifting
under your foot's weight. You hastily step back, fearing that the cracked
glass will give way entirely.

>examine cracks
You see nothing special about the cracks.

One of the distant voices rises for a moment in anger.

>put slab in cracks
The cracked area is much too large to cover with your slab of glass.

>nw

Cistern Catwalk, West

>put slab in hole
You lower the slab carefully, covering the hole in the trough.

>n

Cistern Catwalk, Northwest

>ne

Cistern Catwalk, North

>e

Cistern Catwalk, Northeast

>se

Cistern Catwalk, East

Just past the end of the catwalk, a ladder runs down the wall.

A heavy brass pipe protrudes from the wall, between the catwalk and the
ladder. The spout on the end of the pipe curves left, towards the catwalk.

>s
The catwalk ends here. You can only follow it north.

>d
You shift yourself to the handholds and descend.

Cistern, East (on the glass platform)

Handholds cut into the wall, to the right of the platform, form a ladder
leading both up and down.

A heavy iron lever rises from the platform, by the wall.

>d

Cistern, Bottom

A brass grate is set into the lowest angle of the floor, just by the wall.

Simple handholds cut into the wall form a ladder leading upwards.

A heavy iron wheel is set into the eastern wall.

>turn wheel
You spin the wheel to the right until it stops. As you do, a faint,
unsteady vibration grows in the metal.

The black column reappears -- but not where it used to be. It spills down
from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room, to the floor, and then
down the slope, in one dark silent fall.

Black pools on the grating, hiding it from sight. But the black substance
rises no higher.

>u
You seize the stone handholds and begin climbing.

Cistern, East (on the glass platform)

A black column descends along the southeast wall, from the catwalk down to
the floor, and then down the slope to the bottom of the room.

Handholds cut into the wall, to the right of the platform, form a ladder
leading both up and down.

A heavy iron lever rises from the platform, by the wall.

The voices hasten into an urgent babble, for a moment.

>u

Cistern Catwalk, East

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

Just past the end of the catwalk, a ladder runs down the wall.

A heavy brass pipe protrudes from the wall, between the catwalk and the
ladder. The spout on the end of the pipe curves left, towards the catwalk.
An arc of the blackness falls from the spout; it merges seamlessly into the
black substance which fills the trough.

>n

Cistern Catwalk, Northeast

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>nw

Cistern Catwalk, North

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>w

Cistern Catwalk, Northwest

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>sw

Cistern Catwalk, West

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>s

Cistern Catwalk, Southwest

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

The voices hasten into an urgent babble, for a moment.

>se

Cistern Catwalk, South
You stand on the black surface which fills the catwalk. It runs east and
west from here.

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>e

Cistern Catwalk, Southeast
The black catwalk curves around from the southwest, but it bends sharply
outward here -- straight into the southeast wall, where it ends.

A brass grate is set into the wall, at the trough's end. The black
substance runs up to the grate; but it does not pass through -- it seems to
be blocked by a gauzy pale film that coats the brass. Instead, the
blackness spills up and over the edges of the catwalk, joining the black
column beneath your feet.

A crumpled black wad is lying here, barely visible against the catwalk.

>take wad
(the crumpled black wad)
You pluck the wad from the catwalk, and try to smooth it out. It proves to
be a chart, incised with fine white lines and lettering.

>examine chart
The chart depicts ruling dynasties through time. Its lettering is inhumanly
precise, etched in white on an odd black material. The chart's scale is so
large that individual names do not appear; single lives are only jogs and
serifs in the asterisms of descent.

You recognize a few of the family names, a few of the countries and states
and kingdoms -- not many, and all seem distant and unimportant. But your
eye is drawn to a rift in the middle of the chart. Many lines end there.
New lines begin beyond it. Dynasties across the world seem to break or
shear from that brief stretch... though "brief" is an interval of
centuries, if you read the scale correctly.

A concise note by the rift reads: "Colloquially, the Silver Demon Age.
Plague? War? Widespread turmoil and political instability. Records
unusually rare from this era."

And below that, in a different and familiar scrawl: "History is larger than
any one man: this therefore is no history."

>examine grate
It's a round slab of rough hammered brass, pierced by finger-sized holes.
The surface of the grate is covered with a pale gauzy web. The grating is
half-submerged in the black substance, but nothing seems to be flowing
through it.

>sw

Cistern Catwalk, South

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>w

Cistern Catwalk, Southwest

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>nw

Cistern Catwalk, West

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

The voices hasten into an urgent babble, for a moment.

>n

Cistern Catwalk, Northwest

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>ne

Cistern Catwalk, North

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>e

Cistern Catwalk, Northeast

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

>se

Cistern Catwalk, East

A black column descends from the catwalk on the southeast side of the room.

Just past the end of the catwalk, a ladder runs down the wall.

A heavy brass pipe protrudes from the wall, between the catwalk and the
ladder. The spout on the end of the pipe curves left, towards the catwalk.
An arc of the blackness falls from the spout; it merges seamlessly into the
black substance which fills the trough.

>s
The catwalk ends here. You can only follow it north.

>d
You shift yourself to the handholds and descend.

Cistern, East (on the glass platform)

A black column descends along the southeast wall, from the catwalk down to
the floor, and then down the slope to the bottom of the room.

Handholds cut into the wall, to the right of the platform, form a ladder
leading both up and down.

A heavy iron lever rises from the platform, by the wall.

The distant voices natter imperiously.

>d

Cistern, Bottom

A black column descends along the southeast wall, from the catwalk down to
the floor, and then down the slope to the bottom of the room.

At the lowest angle of the floor, just by the wall, you see a black circle
-- a small disk of the featureless substance which once floored this entire
chamber. The black column angles down the slope to merge with its rim.

Simple handholds cut into the wall form a ladder leading upwards.

A heavy iron wheel is set into the eastern wall.

>w
You walk up the slope.

Cistern, West

A black column descends along the southeast wall, from the catwalk down to
the floor, and then down the slope to the bottom of the room.

A brass grate is set into the the floor near the door.

>examine grate
It's a round slab of rough hammered brass, pierced by finger-sized holes.
You can see only darkness below.

The distant voices continue to murmur.

>put gauze on grate
You begin spreading the circle of gauze across the grating. It clings, and
seems almost to shift in your fingers; and now you see that the holes in
the pale web line up precisely with the holes in the brass beneath it. In a
few moments, the grating is entirely covered.

>e
You walk down the angled floor.

Cistern, Bottom

A black column descends along the southeast wall, from the catwalk down to
the floor, and then down the slope to the bottom of the room.

At the lowest angle of the floor, just by the wall, you see a black circle
-- a small disk of the featureless substance which once floored this entire
chamber. The black column angles down the slope to merge with its rim.

Simple handholds cut into the wall form a ladder leading upwards.

A heavy iron wheel is set into the eastern wall.

>u
You seize the stone handholds and begin climbing.

Cistern, East (on the glass platform)

A black column descends along the southeast wall, from the catwalk down to
the floor, and then down the slope to the bottom of the room.

Handholds cut into the wall, to the right of the platform, form a ladder
leading both up and down.

A heavy iron lever rises from the platform, by the wall.

The voices seem to intone a single word in unison.

>push lever
You push the lever, which clunks stiffly back up. The clunk is echoed from
below you.

A curious thick gurgle sounds, somewhere below you.

>wait
Time passes.

The gurgle is louder now.

>wait
Time passes.

The distant voices natter imperiously.

The bottom of the cistern begins filling once again with the black
substance. It ripples outward from the base of the column.

The black tide rises to the level of the platform. Then it is rising
beneath your feet; and the catwalk is approaching; and then the catwalk is
submerged as well. The tide lifts you towards the shining roof.

>wait
Time passes.

The black floor continues to rise, and you along with it.

>wait
Time passes.

Your ascent continues. The chamber is beginning to seem much less lofty
than it once was.

>wait
Time passes.

The voices are very, very far away.

The bright glow of the roof is getting closer.

>wait
Time passes.

The roof is nearly within reach now.

You glance around in panic. You still can't see any way out.

>wait
Time passes.

The black floor and the white ceiling meet, and merge. The infinitesmal
gap, too narrow even for a ray of light or darkness, excludes all
possibility; within that moment you see all your own time, moving more
swiftly than thought.

Nothing is simpler, for that moment, than to move into it.




Grey Chamber
This space forms an ellipse around you; but the walls are featureless, and
the planes above and below are indistinct, indistinguishable. You do not
recognize this world. Even the silence is not the silence of the caverns.
Your movements raise no echo.

A small gap to the west reveals an opening to more familiar stone and
darkness.

A shield, a gleaming triangular buckler, hangs between floor and roof. Its
bright lines are the only sharp edges about this place.

>take buckler
Taken.

The voices are muted and infinitely far.

[An extra discovery has been added to your score.]

>w
You creep into the gap. The air seems to change around you, to the common
cool damp of the caverns. In moments, you emerge -- into a familiar
confusion of stone. You look behind you, trying to remember which passage
let you free.

Confusing Passage

A small gap is visible in the stone to the southeast.

"The technique of the memory palace is commonplace," says a voice you
remember, "not just among wizards, but in all the mantic disciplines. One
commonly uses one's home as an anchor: familiar rooms, passages,
possessions become the keys to organized thought and knowledge. By passing
through the house-in-mind, one passes unerringly through memory."

"Of course, among wizards, the technique may be elevated to a new plane."

>sw
You pick your way back to the cavern.

Vaulting Cavern

>s

Natural Passage

>s

Curving Hall at Pedestal

A short pedestal of black marble stands by the inner wall.

>se

Curving Hall

The distant voices continue to murmur.

>w

Sitting Room

>se

Curtained Room
The walls of this small room are entirely swathed in heavy brocade
curtains. The only openings are to the west and northwest, and a closed
lead-slab door to the south.

In the center of the room is a massive, high-backed chair of some pale
wood. Directly before it is a tall mirror in a standing frame.

As you cross the room's threshold, the voices go silent -- a sudden and
simultaneous hush, as of exultant expectation.

>examine mirror
It seems to be a plain oval mirror, suspended in a frame of iron bars. You
can't look directly into it from where you're standing.

>examine chair
The chair is cut from heavy planks of pale wood. It has a solid base, high
arms and back -- nearly a throne, you think. The joinery is rough, but the
surface has been finished to a smooth fineness. The chair is positioned in
front of a standing mirror.

>sit on chair
You sit down in the chair, facing the mirror.

>examine mirror
You blink and stare into the mirror. How odd.

The mirror reflects your chair, and the curtains behind you, perfectly. But
your own form is unclear -- as if the mirror were touched with some
distorting oil. The blurring is strongest around your upper body; your head
appears to be a faceless blank.

Nervously, you raise your hand to your own face. Everything feels in its
place. But your reflection has raised a blurred hand to a featureless void.

And dim red, green, blue, black, brown, gold, and white shadows seem to
flit around your reflected body. Then they are gone.

[If you want a hint on using the masks, type "help hint".

If you want the Tutorial Voice to stop popping up to offer hints, you can
type "tutorial off". The hints themselves will still be available via the
"help hint" command.]

>put white mask on mirror
You hold the white mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of your
face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in the
surface of the mirror. Or is it now worn by your reflection?

You know this: When you sneak out at night to gaze up at the stars, you can
hear them laugh and tell each other stories. Cannot everyone?

>put gold mask on mirror
You hold the gold mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of your
face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in the
surface of the mirror.

You know this: Life takes its own course, and sometimes no reason nor
argument nor urgent need can divert its speaking tide.

>put red mask on mirror
You hold the red mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of your
face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in the
surface of the mirror.

You know this: The incidents are not the essence, and the blood is not the
life. But the incidents of blood are a symbol beneath every human thought.

>put brown mask on mirror
You hold the brown mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of your
face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in the
surface of the mirror.

You know this: Mathematic art may chart the course of a messenger, or an
army, more precisely than a knotted string on a peg-nailed map. But the
simple string is an art which can be seen and felt. Thus does the general
see and feel.

>put green mask on mirror
You hold the green mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of your
face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in the
surface of the mirror.

You know this: To win a battle is never a gain. It only means you may
resume the burdens you bore before the war. You do not look forward to
them.

>put blue mask on mirror
You hold the blue mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of your
face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in the
surface of the mirror.

You know this: The dance of symbols is the movement of the people. Perhaps
you have not studied them enough... but your own studies, the symbols of
worlds within and above, press you so.

>put black mask on mirror
You hold the torn black mask up against the mirror, over the reflection of
your face. Then the mask is no longer in your grasp; it seems to float in
the surface of the mirror.

You know this: These people interrupt your studies--



And your mind, splintered and cleaved as it is, begins to draw together.
The masks -- yes! elements of yourself; you see the structure! -- seek
reabsorption. It will be slow, but unceasing.

>examine mirror
Your reflection is a patchwork -- fragments orbiting lazily above the
chair. You nonetheless feel sure that one is missing.

>stand
You stand up from the chair, as layers of memory shift like waves within
you.

One layer is still broken and half-blind. The missing fragment of the
seventh. What part of you....

>w

Crowded Study

"You tear the borders of nations!" comes the angry shout. "No. You are the
nail, obdurate from an ancient age, upon which nations snag and tear
themselves. No thought has passed in the civilized world for an dozen
centuries which did not scrape upon your presence!"

"So?" you reply. "Then soon you shall have peace. I shall tear open the
borders of the world. I shall take the step outside."

And your eye snags again upon the book, the heart of this place, in which
you have nearly done that work.

>read book
The book lies open to the critical page:

    The Theory & UNDERSTANDING of Portalls;
The lesser, which make a single place of many, and the Greater, which open
from NOW into Time in Memory, or Prophecy Foretold, or even a Moment's
Fancy;

All portals are perilous. Perilous thresholds to cross, and more perilous
to create; For there is no plying of the World, or of Time, that does not
happen in the Mind of the learned one who conceives of the journey. Of your
Thought is the portal built, arch and capstone. Slip but a moment of your
attention, and the Portal will fall into ruin; All its might, and yours,
crumbled into eggshell fragments that stray upon the Wind; ...

The facing page shows an elaborate circular diagram, annotated here and
there with tiny mathematical notes. This is the culminating step of your
long work. You are sure, in the yet-fogged halls of your memory, that every
other preparation is complete. You recall writing the comment in the
margin: "Best to draw in a well-insulated space -- 35 Ll. of uncut stone? 
-- move house to Emmen Valley, work into mountain?"

You have no recollection of the labor that must have followed. But it will
come; and there is no reason to delay turning initial failure into triumph.
The door to your laboratory is before you, and the privacy spell can no
longer confound you.

>turn page
You flip back through the formulae, reacquainting yourself with the
arguments.

>unlock door with iron key
The iron key unlocks the door. You turn the knob and swing it open.

>s

Iron Corridor
This hall is a windowless square tube of dark hammered iron, stretching
south. Yellow light trembles in a hanging sconce above you.

Ahead, the air is mirrored with the privacy spell you left in place. The
lamp is reflected in it, again and again, into the seeming distance.

>examine spell
The spell hovers to the south, mindlessly awaiting the approach of some
uncrafty explorer. It isn't even smart enough to recognize you, although
you could smash it with a thought.

>break spell
You reach into the spell, grasp a strand of the thought you bound into it,
and snap. The spell unweaves neatly.

"The work was well enough, for an offhand guard spell." You shrug off the
reflexive criticism. Far more interesting work awaits.

Iron Passage
You are in a short connecting passage, walled in hammered iron. A heavy
wooden door stands to the north; to the south is a large chamber. A single
sconce hangs above your head.

>s

Laboratory
You stand in a chamber built of massive squared stones. The only exit is a
plain doorway in the north wall. Shelves line the east side of the room;
the opposite wall is painted with an elaborate mural. Between them, a
worktable -- a single heavy granite slab, cluttered with the tools of your
work.

In the center of the worktable is a complex apparatus of mirrors and
lenses. The table also contains an empty flask, a wooden basket, a leaden
jar, and a scrap of paper.

>examine table
The granite table is several inches thick; it rests on immovable boulders.
The work space is dominated by a complex optical apparatus. Also on the
table are an empty flask, a wooden basket, a leaden jar, and a scrap of
paper.

>look under table
The table is supported by four irregular outcrops of granite, which rise
through the floor to precisely equal height. Between them, a small drain
opens between the slate flagstones.

>examine drain
You see a small hole in the floor, beneath the worktable. The rim is
slightly stained from all the various concoctions and alchemic mistakes
you've poured down it.

>examine scrap
You have the formulation of the necessary ink scrawled here: "Winter
lithontree resin, and sea-blood corundum -- combine -- ensolve by exposure
to (2 pulses) month-aged noonlight." Easy enough to repeat. The hard part
was gathering those substances.

>examine basket
Standing on the table is a rough wooden basket. It is at least two feet
tall, and broad and heavy to match. The basket is full of lumps of golden
resin.

>examine jar
It's a cylindrical jar of grey lead, with a narrow pouring-spout. You can
see a stock of glittering blue dust inside.

>take resin
You choose a lump from the basket.

>put resin in flask
(the lump of resin in the empty flask)
The lump of resin plunks into the flask.

>take jar
Taken.

>pour dust in flask
You carefully pour blue dust onto the lump of resin in the flask, until it
is full.

>put jar on table
You put the leaden jar on the table.

>take flask
Taken.

>examine apparatus
An intertwined bloom of struts supports shining lenses and mirrors, all
held in precise positions. An oval loop of wire projects out from a niche
in the arrangement. The oval loop is empty. Next to the loop hangs a gold
pull-chain.

>put flask in loop
The flask fits neatly into the heart of the apparatus.

>pull chain
You pull the chain, and the flask swings up into the apparatus. After a
moment of blinding refractions, it swings back down. The lump of resin is
visibly swelling, even as the light fades; the blue dust is being absorbed
within. In moments, the mixture is a homogenous brown gel.

>again
You pull the chain, and the flask swings up into the apparatus. After a
moment of blinding refractions, it swings back down. The gel has liquified
into a beautiful velvet-black ink.

>take flask
You pluck the flask from the optical apparatus.

>examine mural
(the mural)
The mural is stylized but finely detailed. You wonder once again at its
origin... it was here when you built the room. Such things are inevitable
in a house such as yours. But you still wonder.

The angular figure is painted against a red sky -- dawn or dusk, you've
never been sure. It strides confidently forward towards a curious sign: a
recircled orb, marked with the astrological symbol of the Doorstep of
Heaven.

The figure wears a black cloak, open enough to show a silver snakeskin belt
beneath, and a heavy gauntlet which might be leather. Slung on one shoulder
is a small, decorative shield; the other arm bears a dark bracer or
wristlet. The figure holds a black dagger outstretched in its gauntlet. The
other hand holds high an intricately knotted thread; and the figure's eyes
are fixed upon this, as if upon a map or the key to a riddle.

You look upon the painted figure, and then upon your possessions. All
present; but they're not properly arrayed.

>inventory
You are carrying a flask (containing some ink), a buckler, a crumpled black
chart, a tarnished bracelet, a burning straw torch, an iron key, a grey
leather belt (being worn), a night cloak (being worn), an obsidian dagger,
a knotted string, a desert landscape painting, a crumpled white letter, a
mountain landscape painting, a handful of orange berries, a handful of
white berries, a glove (being worn), a copper key, and a quill pen.

[You're carrying quite a lot of stuff -- including two handfuls of berries.
You might be wondering how you can juggle it all. Some games limit the
number of things you can carry, or provide you with some kind of sack to
carry your loot around in.

However, many games -- including this one -- simply ignore the problem.
Packing your luggage, or stowing it in some central location, isn't all
that much fun. Therefore, the game lets you carry around as much as you
want.]

>don bracelet
With some effort, you slip the bracelet over your left hand.

>examine mural
(the mural)
The mural is stylized but finely detailed. You wonder once again at its
origin... it was here when you built the room. Such things are inevitable
in a house such as yours. But you still wonder.

The angular figure is painted against a red sky -- dawn or dusk, you've
never been sure. It strides confidently forward towards a curious sign: a
recircled orb, marked with the astrological symbol of the Doorstep of
Heaven.

The figure wears a black cloak, open enough to show a silver snakeskin belt
beneath, and a heavy gauntlet which might be leather. Slung on one shoulder
is a small, decorative shield; the other arm bears a dark bracer or
wristlet. The figure holds a black dagger outstretched in its gauntlet. The
other hand holds high an intricately knotted thread; and the figure's eyes
are fixed upon this, as if upon a map or the key to a riddle.

You look upon the painted figure, and then upon yourself, in satisfaction.

>n

Iron Passage

>n

Crowded Study

>examine desk
The desk is heavy and plain, a massive wooden construction. Surprisingly,
the surface is bare, except for a torn black shred and an immense book.

>take shred
Taken.

>examine shred
It's the left side of a face, sketched on black paper. It seems to have
been torn from a drawing of you.

>don shred
You hold the black shred up before your left eye.

-- too late, for your bitter wrath is descending--

You yank it away, shivering. Could that have been you?

>e

Curtained Room

In the center of the room is a massive, high-backed chair of some pale
wood. Directly before it is a tall mirror in a standing frame.

>sit on chair
You sit down in the chair, facing the mirror.

>put shred on mirror
You hold the torn black shred up against the mirror, over the reflection of
your eye.

And then it is gone, and your reflection is complete.

--the mail-clad mob swirled, and turned, and began to run. Of course it was
too late. You watched their life force separate into strands... still
swirling. Interesting. You regarded the scene until the last tendrils
dissipated. There had been a pattern to it, beyond the overlay of animal
pain and terror.

You returned to your cityworld, considering a possible theorem. Further
interruptions would be unlikely, for at least a generation, and you needed
the time to think.

And you have made good use of that time. The mistake in your portal diagram
is obvious in retrospect. A thousand worlds await beyond that threshold;
and you plan to make use of them all.


    *** You have come to an ending ***



[This is an ending of THE DREAMHOLD. But it is not the only ending. Many IF
games encompass variations, and it is often worth going back to see if you
missed a more satisfying outcome. If you want to back up and try a
different way, type "undo".]

Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, UNDO your last move, or
QUIT?
> undo
Curtained Room
[Previous turn undone.]

>stand
You stand up from the chair.

>nw

Sitting Room

>e

Curving Hall

>s

Curving Hall, South End

>w
You ascend the stairs.

Starry Dome, East

>n

Starry Dome, North

>u
You climb up, through the dome, and a long way farther...

Translucent Dome

A low platform fills the center of the floor. Upon it is a blazing bonfire.
Its heat fills the dome, hot enough to sting on the skin.

A tall triangle of beaten copper rises along the north side of the dome.

>push copper triangle
You reach wide to grasp the sail's edge, and give an experimental shove.
You were right -- it slides along the track, although the motion is stiff
and the track squeals painfully. With some effort, you drag the triangle
sideways around the dome, until it stands on the east side.

>push copper triangle
You drag the triangle sideways around the dome, until it stands on the
south side.

>push copper triangle
You drag the triangle sideways around the dome, until it stands on the west
side.

>u
You climb up and out, into the night.

Catwalk, South; Night

>w
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving west around the dome.

Catwalk, West; Night

The copper sail inside the dome is visible here, a dark silhouette. It
blocks the firelight; a long black shadow falls west across the catwalk and
out into the empty air.

>w
You step out onto the path of black shadow.

Shadow Path, West of Dome; Night
You are standing on a long, black tongue of shadow which hangs impossibly
in empty air. To the east stands the fire-lit dome; the path stretches away
to the west. To the north side of the path, the mountain towers, a black
shape against the starry fields. On the other side, the garden slumbers in
green; and below that, the valley.

>w
You venture farther from the dome.

Shadow Path, Far West of Dome; Night
The shadow path narrows as it runs; a few yards farther west, it converges
to a point and is gone. The dome is a red bauble to the east. To one side,
the mountain towers, a black shape against the stars. On the other side
falls the dim green valley.

>w
The path will take you no further.

>e

Shadow Path, West of Dome; Night

>e
You step gingerly back to the safety of the catwalk.

Catwalk, West; Night

The copper sail inside the dome is visible here, a dark silhouette. It
blocks the firelight; a long black shadow falls west across the catwalk and
out into the empty air.

>s
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving south around the dome.

Catwalk, South; Night

>d
You step up to the opening and climb down into the smoky heat of the dome.

Translucent Dome

A low platform fills the center of the floor. Upon it is a blazing bonfire.
Its heat fills the dome, hot enough to sting on the skin.

A tall triangle of beaten copper rises along the west side of the dome.

>put white berry in fire
You toss a white berry into the bonfire. An odd blue light crackles across
the burning wood. And the fire changes.

Blue and indigo flames dance across the wood, snap in the air, flash as
high as the dome's apex. The embers burn turquoise and emerald. The heart
of the bonfire is a dim, aching violet. And a piercing, insistent chill
radiates from the flames -- numbing your skin and frosting your breath.

>u
A peculiar red glow spreads across the sky as you climb.

Catwalk, South; Unearthly

[An extra discovery has been added to your score.]

>w
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving west around the dome.

Catwalk, West; Unearthly

The copper sail inside the dome is visible here, a dark silhouette. It
blocks the firelight; a long black shadow falls west across the catwalk and
out into the empty air.

>w
You step out onto the path of black shadow.

Shadow Path, West of Dome; Unearthly

>w
You venture farther from the dome.

Shadow Path, Far West of Dome; Unearthly

>w
The ringed moon hovers before you. You settle your regalia about yourself,
and step forward.

For a moment, the voices of the stars are a thousandfold rushing whisper.
And then the portal opens; and you can understand every word and note.

Somewhere, a child runs through a moonlit forest, gazing up at a bright-
marked figure which has always shone, will always shine beyond the
Doorstep. It is only within your mind that the song begins at this
moment... The stars are welcoming you home.


    *** The end ***


Thank you for playing. You've reached the end of THE DREAMHOLD; but that
doesn't mean there isn't more hidden in the game. You made seven additional
discoveries beyond the riddle of the masks; there may be others.

And there are many other games to discover beyond THE DREAMHOLD. If this
game was your first experience of interactive fiction, and if you enjoyed
it, then you should play more. You are now familiar enough with the IF
interface to try any well-designed game. (I won't promise that you won't
have trouble! Some games are meant to be tricky. But you'll have as fair a
shot as any IF player.)

IF comes in a huge range of forms and styles. THE DREAMHOLD is a fairly
serious, surrealist fantasy exploration. But there are also silly games,
detective stories, science fiction scenarios, romances, and nightmares.
Some games are puzzle-fests; others focus on character, dialogue, or
branching story variants. All these can be found at the IF Archive:
<http://ifarchive.org/>

So many games are collected there that it's hard to navigate them. Baf's
Guide is an excellent categorized index: <http://wurb.com/if/>

Baf's Guide lets you search for IF games by author, title, genre, rating,
or origin. It also contains capsule reviews, to help you choose the game
you want to play.

I hope you've gotten a glimpse of what text adventure gaming can be. Have
fun. 

                                -- Andrew Plotkin, <erkyrath@eblong.com>

Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, UNDO your last move, or
QUIT?
> undo
Shadow Path, Far West of Dome; Unearthly
[Previous turn undone.]

>e

Shadow Path, West of Dome; Unearthly

>e
You step gingerly back to the safety of the catwalk.

Catwalk, West; Unearthly

The copper sail inside the dome is visible here, a dark silhouette. It
blocks the firelight; a long black shadow falls west across the catwalk and
out into the empty air.

>s
You edge along the precarious catwalk, moving south around the dome.

Catwalk, South; Unearthly

>d
You step up to the opening and climb down into the welcome coolness of the
dome.

Translucent Dome

A low platform fills the center of the floor. Upon it is a bonfire, blazing
in strange shades of blue. An icy chill radiates from the flames.

A tall triangle of beaten copper rises along the west side of the dome.

>d
You descend.

Starry Dome, North

>e

Starry Dome, East

>e
You descend the narrow stairs.

Curving Hall, South End

You abruptly hear the sound of harp music, although you can see no source.

>n

Curving Hall

>w

Sitting Room

>s

Crowded Study

>examine diagram
The diagram takes up an entire page of the immense book. The whole is
inscribed in a circle; but it has countless partitions, spirals, and inner
elaborations.

You glare at the diagram in irritation. You have spent months studying it.
You could redraw it perfectly if you were blindfolded, drunk, and singing
bawdy Morovnan sea ballads. What could have gone wrong?

>w
You descend for a long while.

Narrow Hallway

>w
You duck your head and push through the gap.

Cell

>dip pen in ink
You dip the quill's nib carefully into the ink. When you withdraw it, ebon
light refracts from a quivering droplet.

>draw diagram
You kneel on the floor, bring the diagram clear in your inner eye, and
begin. The first line is clear and precise, ink-black against the smooth
white floor.

Your work is swift, but not hasty. You dare not miss one mark or detail; it
was just such an error which destroyed your last attempt, and nearly
destroyed you. After a time your knees ache, and your neck is sore, from
your bent position. You do not slow. Magic requires concentration.

When the last arc closes the circle, your mind is clear -- neither
surprised nor relieved. All is now ready.

>enter diagram
You step into the center of the circle, and seize the spell with both
hands.

Around you, the world folds into kaleidoscope reflections.




Cell, Possibly
This space, barely wider than your outstretched arms, seems to have been
chopped raw from unfinished stone. Only the floor is smooth -- an intricate
web of geometric marks which swirls from wall to wall. Eight narrow gaps
pierce the walls, one in each compass direction.

>ne
You move across the diagram.

White Hallway, Possibly
You are in a high, dim corridor, walled in cracked and moldering white
plaster. The only light comes from tiny flickering candles above; intricate
geometric marks cover the floor. The hall curves gently away in all eight
directions.

You hear words:

"It's easy to think of \||/|| as a story." The name is a meaningless burst
of noise. "That's self-delusion. A story is about someone else, but the
story is told to you -- or you tell it. It's about part of you.

"There's a story about the birth of /||\|||, the first word, the first
spell. The first child. But the end of |/|/\| wasn't a story, because /\/
wasn't about anything about \|/|/|, at the end."

>e
You move across the diagram.

Gold Harp Chamber, Possibly
Broad golden pillars march around the edge of this circular chamber. The
walls between the pillars are deeply set, painted in variegated shades of
yellow and amber, and lit from some hidden source. The floor is still awash
with geometric marks. Archways lead in all directions.

In the center of the room stands an unstrung harp of gold.

You hear words:

"I remember the master saying that the world was blind bits of meaningless
matter. All us kids reacted the same way, of course -- that's silly, that's
only unalive things, people are different. /||/\\| was saying it with the
rest of us. |/|\/ was already seeing life and thought and that stuff
directly -- saying it was all dead was even sillier to \|/ than to the rest
of us.

"||||/\| got a funny look after that, though. Like, thinking about the
little charts and patterns we were taught in basic alchemy, the ones that
controlled how dead matter moved and combined. Once \|\ said something
about if people moved the same way. I said, what, if they were dead? Then
we laughed and yelled Necromancy, you know, and ran down to the pond to
play chase-the-zombie. Little kids."

>se
You move across the diagram.

Red-Curtained Room, Possibly
The walls of this small room are entirely swathed in heavy red brocade
curtains. Geometric diagrams cover the floor. Openings lead in all eight
directions.

In the center of the room is a standing mirror frame, which is empty.

You hear words:

"Well, I hardly know. What does any mother know? Isn't your baby the most
beautiful thing in the world? Your own blood... but you think of yourself
as the child's blood, really. \|\|\ was more perfect and wonderful than we
were. We knew that.

"And then, such a talent -- my husband and I were never surprised. It was
only fair. All parents are like that.

"Afterward, I might have wondered if it was too much. But I wasn't alive
any more, of course."

>s
You move across the diagram.

Brown Shed, Possibly
This room looks like nothing so much as a small, windowless garden shed.
The floor is a plane of geometric diagrams, but the walls are unfinished
brown planks. Narrow openings in every direction lead to eight steep
stairways, which climb away into darkness.

You hear words:

"Is it possible? None of it is possible. The world is meaningless points of
dumb matter; that's the first thing we tell them. Matter can't stand up and
start changing the world. Except that it does; we do. You have to start
with the absurdity, or you won't get anywhere.

"And the meaning in our heads, which can't be there in the first place,
certainly can't get out and start changing the world, ignoring even the
blind interacting strictures of matter. That's impossible too. Except that
it happens.

"That's why we call magic 'the Moral Art' -- it's about the way we see the
world, not about the world itself. Maybe it always has been in our heads,
and not in the world at all. That would just mean that it's more real to us
than the world is -- as real to us as we are.

"I love that idea. Wouldn't it be funny?"

>sw
You move across the diagram.

Green Bower, Possibly
A tiny pleasance-garden is nestled here, high on a mountainside. Shrubs and
raised flowerbeds lie atop a plane of geometric markings. A lush green
valley is visible in the distance; eight paths run in all directions.

You hear words:

"See, now, you're talking about \/|\\/| as a General, as a Princeps, as a
Pontifect. And that made sense once. If you speak for the people you're a
Pontifect, if you lead an army you're a General, if you conquer a city-
state you're a Princeps.

"After the boy died, though, |\\\ stopped doing that. Sure-sure, it took
decades really. /\\\/| still marched with the armies and collected the
taxes and heard the Pontifects and sat over the laws.

"But if you rewrite trade routes by changing the weather, then you're a, a
what? How do you talk about that? If you invent a new nation, what are you?
If you change what money means? If you create a new way to make laws, based
on something you see in dreams of another world?

"I was born in a city-state and I died in a nation -- that's what they were
calling it -- and I didn't even live more than one lifetime. I can't
imagine what it's like for ///|||/. Well, that goes without saying, sure."

>w
You move across the diagram.

Blue Mosaic Room, Possibly
The walls and ceiling of this room are entirely covered with tiny blue
tiles. The floor is a plane of geometric diagrams. Archways lead in all
directions.

A tiny brass bird perches on a curved stand in the center of the room.

You hear words:

"Everyone who can read knows the world is a ball. Some wizards can fly or
see high enough to see the curve. I suppose you cannot see towns or roads
from that high. Much as you cannot see people from up on a mountain.

"You can still see yourself, however. And you aren't any bigger.
Comparisons are misleading.

"Events seem smaller as they move into the past, and that's just as much an
illusion. The tragedy or triumph looms as large as ever it did. You may not
feel it, but the influence has shaped everything you've been since then."

>nw
You move across the diagram.

Black Night, Perhaps
You are surrounded by deep sky. In all directions you see stars in their
slow-eternal coursing. The infinite diagram remains below you, dark
markings on blackness, but even its geometry is not dense enough to bisect
the night.

Someone is talking, though not to you:

"Limits? I don't believe I know any."

>n
Around you, the world goes as flat as a page in a book.




You pause between moments to consider the possibilities. What might stand
ahead? The fragments of your past seem no more than the shuffled cards of a
lost game. The future is anywhere, now.

You move into the next moment.


    *** The end ***


Thank you for playing. You've reached the end of THE DREAMHOLD; but that
doesn't mean there isn't more hidden in the game. You made seven additional
discoveries beyond the riddle of the masks; there may be others.

And there are many other games to discover beyond THE DREAMHOLD. If this
game was your first experience of interactive fiction, and if you enjoyed
it, then you should play more. You are now familiar enough with the IF
interface to try any well-designed game. (I won't promise that you won't
have trouble! Some games are meant to be tricky. But you'll have as fair a
shot as any IF player.)

IF comes in a huge range of forms and styles. THE DREAMHOLD is a fairly
serious, surrealist fantasy exploration. But there are also silly games,
detective stories, science fiction scenarios, romances, and nightmares.
Some games are puzzle-fests; others focus on character, dialogue, or
branching story variants. All these can be found at the IF Archive:
<http://ifarchive.org/>

So many games are collected there that it's hard to navigate them. Baf's
Guide is an excellent categorized index: <http://wurb.com/if/>

Baf's Guide lets you search for IF games by author, title, genre, rating,
or origin. It also contains capsule reviews, to help you choose the game
you want to play.

I hope you've gotten a glimpse of what text adventure gaming can be. Have
fun. 

                                -- Andrew Plotkin, <erkyrath@eblong.com>

Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, UNDO your last move, or
QUIT?
>