Savoir-Faire
Emily Short
cover art culinary theme fantasy feelies food puzzle France Historical last lousy point long-form magic male protagonist medium length parser physical simulation Published 2002 simulationist puzzles standard difficulty strong NPCs systematic puzzles walkthrough Xyzzy Awards 2002 XYZZY Best Game XYZZY Best Individual PC XYZZY Best Puzzles XYZZY Best Story
The beautiful life is always damned, they say. As for you, you've overexpended yourself: fifteen years of prominence, champagne, carriage rides in the Tuileries, having your name whispered behind manicured hands, getting elegant ladies out of elegant fixes - and you're in debt. Bound by oath and honor to a pack of scoundrels. Your father, old peasant that he was, could have warned you against their type.
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The beautiful life is always damned, they say. As for you, you've overexpended yourself: fifteen years of prominence, champagne, carriage rides in the Tuileries, having your name whispered behind manicured hands, getting elegant ladies out of elegant fixes -- and you're in debt. Bound by oath and honor to a pack of
scoundrels. Your father, old peasant that he was, could have warned you against their type.

You'd hoped to find the Count at home; your original plan was to ask him for an advance on the money you expect to earn on your estate in a month or two. But according to the local population, the Count hasn't been home in months, and Marie, who was in residence until recently, has vanished as well. "No one around the big house now," says one of the peasant women tersely. "Even turned off the cook, they did."

But you need the money at once; if you return to Paris without it, your creditors are unlikely to be forgiving. So you walked over the fields anyway, and got in through the gap in the kitchen garden wall. You will just have to find what you can.

West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

A tangle of climbing roses covers almost completely the wall and door of a shed to the southeast.
You examine the herbs
A bed of herbs, containing, currently, bay, parsley, and mint.
You take the herbs
You'll have to specify which herbs you would like.
You get all
roses: The roses are equipped with really ferocious thorns.
mud: In your bare hands? Surely you jest.
water: In your bare hands? Surely you jest.
You take the bay
You pick some of the growing bay.
You take parsley
You pick some of the growing parsley.
You take the mint
You pick some of the growing mint.
You look at the ditch
Little more than a damp hollow of earth under the pipe opening.

In the drainage ditch is not very much mud.
You look at mud
A bit of unpleasant mud.
You take mud
In your bare hands? Surely you jest.
Look around
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

A tangle of climbing roses covers almost completely the wall and door of a shed to the southeast.
You examine the pipe
The pipe leads through the wall into the house.
You examine well
A dark circle of stone, the depths of which you cannot see. The water comes up within reach.

A bar of iron crosses the well, to support a bucket on a rope (which, however, is itself lacking).

In the well is a body of water.
You examine the sundial
A sturdy old sundial, its bronze weathered green. Unlike various tawdry sundials you have encountered in your life, it has a firmly-attached gnomon that is unlikely to come off in times of trouble.
You pick a the rose
The roses are equipped with really ferocious thorns.
About yourself
Tall, thin, and fashionably dressed; greying prematurely at the temples, but not-- (the ladies all insist)-- not old; perhaps a little tired around the eyes, and a little jaded. Very little of your peasant heritage reveals itself in you.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
three food items:
a sprig of mint
a sprig of parsley
a bay leaf
a dashing hat (being worn)
a swordstick
a sword
a snuffbox (which is closed)
You examine the hat
Made of black felt, and quite ordinary, except for the breadth and sweep of the brim, and the majesty of the pure white feather.
You examine the sword
A slender and flexible blade, and more decorative than useful, though there have been a few occasions when it became helpful against brigands in the street. The design at the hilt is a bit ornate, but not unpleasantly so.
You examine the snuffbox
A little pastel-colored metal box in which you keep your supply of snuff.

Something about the snuffbox tickles your recollection.
You remember the snuffbox
...

"Don't play magic pranks on the guests," said the Count,
confiscating the little box you had been using to control the Marquis' snuffbox (so it would refuse to open when he tried the little one-handed flick he was so fond of, and then pop open of its own when he set it down...).

"Why NOT?" you demanded, twisting under the painful grip he had on your shoulder. "You don't mind if I play with the servants."

"First," said the Count, clearing the links from the box with a brush of his fingers, "I hope you do not play anything malicious on the servants; it is only all right as long as it is games and they do not mind." He set the box down. "And second, the Marquis is nobility."

"I do not understand."

The Count sighed. "I thought you might not. Pierre, you are an-- unusual case, being exempt from this rule, but you know that for the most part, only the nobility are able to perform the lavori d'Aracne; and of them, only the most noble families, who have access to the Honors of the Court. To play magic tricks on the Marquis, therefore, is to remind him that his lineage is not as good as ours. He will be insulted and grow angry, and I cannot afford to allow that to happen."

...
Look around
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

A tangle of climbing roses covers almost completely the wall and door of a shed to the southeast.
You hit roses
With your bare hands? That could be uncomfortable.
You kiss roses
You can only do that to something animate.
You examine the roses
More thorns than the usual, and fewer blooms, or so it seems to your eye.
You go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (which is closed).

A string of andouillettes hangs from a beam of the ceiling.
You look at the beam
The heavy beams (five in all) were each cut a very long time ago from a very large tree.
You look at the tables
Higher than a table you might eat at, and designed for people to use when standing up.
You look at andouillettes
Veal cased in tripe. Tasty food. The servants used to eat them with fried onions -- a good, hearty smell that leaked out of the kitchen while you played outside, until you went inside, and sometimes they would let you eat at the kitchen table rather than with the Family.
You look at the bread
A roughly rectangular loaf of bread, reddish brown, and shriveled to rock-like hardness by being left to sit around for so long. The fact that it went uneaten is explained by the fact that one face is burnt black -- someone left it in the oven too long, evidently.
You take the bread
Taken.
You describe your surroundings
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables is a delicate contraption (which is closed).

A string of andouillettes hangs from a beam of the ceiling.
You look at contraption
The body of the contraption is mostly just a large box, into which things can be put, and an assembly of clockwork parts in a separate case, not to be interfered with. There is also a dial which may be set to various positions, and a spindle, on which is a cylinder with a pattern of strange bumps on it, labeled "Andouillettes Recipe".

The delicate contraption is currently switched off.
You stand on the table
You get onto the kitchen tables.

On the kitchen tables you can see a delicate contraption (which is closed).
Cut andouillettes
What do you want to cut the andouillettes with?
Sword
It's difficult to chop up the andouillettes from this vantage point.
You get down
You get off the kitchen tables.

A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables is a delicate contraption (which is closed).

A string of andouillettes hangs from a beam of the ceiling.
You get the tripe
You still can't quite reach the andouillettes from here. Close, though.
You jump
You leap, catch the beam over your head with one hand, snatch the sausages in the other, and land back on the table with only a slight thump.
You look at contraption
The body of the contraption is mostly just a large box, into which things can be put, and an assembly of clockwork parts in a separate case, not to be interfered with. There is also a dial which may be set to various positions, and a spindle, on which is a cylinder with a pattern of strange bumps on it, labeled "Andouillettes Recipe".

The delicate contraption is currently switched off.
You turn on the contraption
The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. From inside the box comes a plaintive mechanical voice which declares, "Monsieur le Chef!! You need more! andouillettes!!!"

The mechanism whirrs a moment longer before its functioning gives out.
You look at the dial
A dial which can be rotated to show one word at a time, labeled 'SHAPE'. Currently the word showing is NONE.
You turn the dial
You turn the dial gently with one finger, and it clicks around to display the setting LEAF.
You put the tripe in the contraption
(first opening the delicate contraption)
You open the contraption, revealing a clove of garlic.
You put the andouillettes into the delicate contraption.
You take the garlic
You're carrying too many things already.
You drop the bread
Dropped.
You take the garlic
Taken.
You turn on the contraption
There is a regretful clicking noise from the vicinity of the lid-catch. Just as you think you are going to have to close it yourself, a gloved mechanical hand reaches up and slams the contraption shut from the inside.

The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. From inside the box comes a plaintive mechanical voice which declares, "Monsieur le Chef!! You need more! olive oil!!!"

The mechanism whirrs a moment longer before its functioning gives out.
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing some andouillettes.
You describe your surroundings
Kitchen (on the kitchen tables)
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room-- though they look somewhat less high from this perspective.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables you can see a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which are some andouillettes).
You go north
You'll have to get off the kitchen tables first.
Down
You get off the kitchen tables.

A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which are some andouillettes).
Go north
A small, workmanlike room with a floor of white stones. The principal features of the room are a counter, with a large inset washbasin also made of stone, and a tall wooden cupboard.

On the countertop are a sponge, a butcher knife and a sack (in which is a single yellow onion).
You take the onion
You're carrying too many things already.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a sword
a dashing hat (being worn)
a swordstick
a snuffbox (which is closed)
four food items:
a clove of garlic
a sprig of mint
a sprig of parsley
a bay leaf
You put the food in the sack
Which do you mean, the single yellow onion, the clove of garlic, the sprig of mint, the sprig of parsley or the bay leaf?
All
single yellow onion: (first taking the single yellow onion)
(putting the bay leaf into the sack to make room)
Taken.

Done.
clove of garlic: Done.
sprig of mint: Done.
sprig of parsley: Done.
bay leaf: (first taking the bay leaf)
Taken.

Done.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a sack (which is open)
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
a swordstick
a sword
a snuffbox (which is closed)
You look at the sack
An ordinary sack made out of rough cloth.

In the sack are five food items (a bay leaf, a sprig of parsley, a sprig of mint, a clove of garlic and a single yellow onion).
You look around
A small, workmanlike room with a floor of white stones. The principal features of the room are a counter, with a large inset washbasin also made of stone, and a tall wooden cupboard.

On the countertop are a sponge and a butcher knife.
You take all
sponge: Taken.
butcher knife: Taken.
You look at the sponge
A sea sponge, sized and rounded like an apple. It is currently bone dry.
You put sponge in the sack
You put the sponge into the sack.
You examine the knife
An ordinary kitchen knife, perhaps a foot long.
You open the cupboard
You open the cupboard, revealing three metal dishes (a cup, a plate and a hinge-lidded teapot).
You take all
cup: Taken.
plate: Taken.
hinge-lidded teapot: Taken.
You look at the basin
Nothing more than a large stone bowl. In the bottom is a hole, which can be plugged up; when the plug is removed, the water runs out by a pipe and waters the ground outside.

In the bottom of the hole you can see something glinting.
You look at the hole
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole is a shiny silver cylinder.
You examine the cylinder
A cylinder of silver metal as long as the middle joint of your thumb. On the surface are a series of strange bumps, depressions, and grooves, seeming carefully wrought and utterly intentional. The core of the cylinder is hollow, but over one end is a piece of paper which bears a label, in careful lettering, which reads, "Tea Recipe."
You examine the hole
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole is a Tea Recipe.
You go south
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which are some andouillettes).
You fill the pot with the water
The hinge-lidded teapot is closed.
You open the teapot
You open the hinge-lidded teapot.
You fill the pot with the water
You put some water in the hinge-lidded teapot. This fills the hinge-lidded teapot to the brim.
Go north
A small, workmanlike room with a floor of white stones. The principal features of the room are a counter, with a large inset washbasin also made of stone, and a tall wooden cupboard.
You put the water in the sink
You put some water in the drain hole, exhausting the supply in the hinge-lidded teapot.

The water goes out the drain.
You examine the hole
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole is a Tea Recipe.
You search pipe
The pipe is empty.
You examine the ditch
Little more than a damp hollow of earth under the pipe opening.

In the drainage ditch is some mud.
You cut the roses with the knife
In order to make any headway, you would still have to be in rather undesirable proximity to the sharp poky bits of the rose bushes.
I tall
You are carrying:
three metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a plate
a cup
a butcher knife
a sack (which is open)
a sponge
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
a swordstick
a sword
a snuffbox (which is closed)
You put the sponge in the water
(first taking the sponge)
(putting the snuffbox into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put the sponge into the well.
The sponge sinks into oblivion.
You fill the sponge with the water
Which do you mean, the water in the well or the water in the hinge-lidded teapot?
You fill the sponge with the water from well
(first taking the sponge)
(putting the snuffbox into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The sponge is not something you can fill.
You put the sponge in the teapot
You put the sponge into the hinge-lidded teapot. You consume some of the water in moistening the sponge.
You examine the sponge
A sea sponge, sized and rounded like an apple. It is currently sopping wet.
Go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which are some andouillettes).
Up
Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.

On the drying rack is a white handkerchief.
You examine it
A square of good linen; rather nice, really. It is currently colored white.
You look at the beds
All of the beds are of the rickety sort with a thin straw mattress. Usually this was accompanied by several layers of blanket -- the Count was not an unreasonable man, and the servants were not ill-treated. But the blankets are gone now.
You examine fireplace
Not nearly as large as the ones downstairs, of course, and principally intended for keeping the inhabitants toasty when the winter set in especially hard.

Something about the fireplace tickles your recollection.
You remember the fireplace
...

Anton's wife Leonie stood by the fireplace. "The new maid -- I think she is a snoop."

Anton shrugged his broad shoulders. "She chops potatoes," he said.

"Nonetheless I don't trust her. Give me the money." And she took the little sack of coins Anton held out to her, their savings, and concealed them behind a brick in the fireplace.

...
You search the fireplace
The fireplace is empty.
You enter the fireplace
You get into the fireplace.
Look around
Servants' Dormitory (in the fireplace)
Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.
You look at the fireplace
Not nearly as large as the ones downstairs, of course, and principally intended for keeping the inhabitants toasty when the winter set in especially hard.

In the fireplace is yourself.
You look at the brick
A reddish-brown brick darkened by smoke, and pushed forward from its position among the others.
You take the brick
Age and heat have hardened the cement holding the brick in place.
You take the snuffbox
(putting the swordstick into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You link the brick to the snuffbox
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.
You look at plate
One of a set of special dishes that the Count made. The idea was that all of the china plates in the house were linked to this one plate, which could then be washed and dried, minimizing the expenditure of time and water. Similar arrangements were made for other parts of the standard place setting; the Count spent innumerable hours refining the links.

The reason that the plate is metal rather than china is that, when the link-system was first instituted, a clumsy maid ravaged the Countess' entire crystal collection by accidentally chipping a glass.

In order to make the linkages possible, however, it has been painted a glossy white, and the crest of the family executed on one side in intricate detail.
You clean the brick with the sponge
(first taking the sponge)
(putting the butcher knife into the sack to make room)
You dampen the brick with the sponge.
You look at the rack
A sort of contraption of several long bars which will support clothing thrown over it to dry.
Wring sponge
You wring out the sponge, causing it to drip water all over the place.
You examine the sponge
A sea sponge, sized and rounded like an apple. It is currently slightly damp.
You take the knife
(putting the cup into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You drop the knife
Dropped.
Wave sword
You wave the sword. The butcher knife shakes slightly, as though moved by a breath of air.
You take the knife
Taken.
You go downwards
You'll have to get out of the fireplace first.
You leave
You get out of the fireplace.

Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.
You cut the roses with the sword
(first taking the sword)
You draw the sword from its sheath. The sword is not sharp enough to slash effectively through the roses.
You put the knife in the roses
(first taking the butcher knife)
(putting the plate into the sack to make room)
Taken.

Those can't contain things.
You throw the knife at the roses
The butcher knife shoots end over end through the air. It strikes the roses solidly, falling on the ground.
Go west
A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors, west, bar your access to the main house.

Lying to one side, and thereby doing no good at all, is the stone block often used as a doorstop.
You open the door
They seem to be locked.
You examine the doors
A pair of white-painted doors that lead into the upstairs corridor of the house. Each door panel is decorated with the family crest, picked out in ostentatious gold, as though to warn servants not to wander that direction uninvited.
Go downward
Darkness presses in on every side; nothing is visible, and you are sure only of your own possessions.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a butcher knife
a sword
a sponge
a snuffbox (which is closed)
a white handkerchief
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow-looking  onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
Close teapot
You close the hinge-lidded teapot.
You link door to the teapot
Bending your will, you form the link between the double doors and the hinge-lidded teapot.
You open the teapot
You open the hinge-lidded teapot, revealing not very much water.

The double doors open slowly of their own accord, the ancient hinges protesting.
You take the stone
(putting the white handkerchief into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You examine the stone
Just a chunk of roughly squared stone from one of the nearby fields. Possibly once it had some value as masonry, but not any more.
You go east
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which are some andouillettes).
You go upwards
Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.
You enter the fireplace
You get into the fireplace.
You look at the brick
A reddish-brown brick darkened by smoke, and pushed forward from its position among the others.
You link the brick to the stone
Bending your will, you form the link between the brick and the stone block.
You break the stone
With your bare hands? That could be uncomfortable.
You take the stone
Taken.
You throw the stone at wall
(the wall)
The stone block hurls through the air, smacks the wall, and falls on the ground.
You hit the brick with the stone
(first taking the stone block)
From here you cannot reach the stone block.
You go outside
You get out of the fireplace.

Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.

You can see a stone block here.
Go inside
You can go only down.
You enter the fireplace
You get into the fireplace.
You hit the brick with the stone
The stone block strikes the brick.
West
A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors give west onto the main house.
West
A grand room, for dining in style. The plastered ceiling is several times your height. The air now is cool and deep, the sunlight glancing through the windows and scattering from the chandelier, putting points of light at your feet, over the table, across the painted wallpaper and the handsome wood paneling.

Woodworked columns frame the exits west and southwest.

Heavy double doors open east to the kitchen.
You examine wallpaper
Painted with images such as the queen entering a room accompanied by waiting women. The main subject of each picture is realistic, but there are fantasies around the edges: a fox standing on two legs, dressed in the coat and hose of a courtier, with a broad hat; a girl's gown trailing into peacock feathers.

Something about the wallpaper tickles your recollection.
You remember the wallpaper
...

"So the man linked himself to a suit of armor. And then he left the suit of armor at home, and went off to war to fight in his bare skin, thinking that whatever happened to him, the links would protect him. But at home his wife was horrified to see the armor slashed in pieces before her eyes..."

"Anabelle," interrupted the Count, standing at the doorway with a hand on his vest. "Do you really think this story is appropriate for the children?"

The Countess shrugged, half-smiling as she always had when the Count overrode her authority. "I hardly think it is any more disturbing than the other things Marie reads," she said lightly. "The dining room is more frightening than this story."

"I don't mean that, of course." The Count smiled over you and Marie -- you on the floor, Marie with her skirts spread around her on the chaise. "But our children should not be told silly
superstitions about linking." He came into the room then, touching the Countess' shoulder with an affectionate gesture. "Marie," he said, "What is wrong with your mother's story?"

"The man has confused reverse-links and ordinary ones," Marie replied. "And he would have to be very stupid to do that, because reverse-links are harder to make and you can always tell when you have done it."

The Count nodded at her. "Very good." He kissed the Countess and went out again...

...

Hmm. Something to eat would be good.
Look around
A grand room, for dining in style. The plastered ceiling is several times your height. The air now is cool and deep, the sunlight glancing through the windows and scattering from the chandelier, putting points of light at your feet, over the table, across the painted wallpaper and the handsome wood paneling.

Woodworked columns frame the exits west and southwest.

Heavy double doors open east to the kitchen.
You go to the south-west
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and the walls are dressed with yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.
You examine the marble
Veined colorfully in cream and muted orange, turned glossy with much polishing.
You examine the hangings
Hangings cover up the whole of the west wall, concealing it thoroughly. (Now that you think of it, wasn't there a door through there or some such thing?)
You look behind the hanging
You lift the hangings out of the way with both hands -- they are heavy, and it's a struggle to move them far enough to get a good glimpse.

Behind them there seems to be a door, yes, but locked, and with its key still in the lock. You drop the hangings again disconsolately.
You take the key
You can't get the ornate key from this side: it's been put into the lock from the inside.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a stone block
a butcher knife
a sword
a sponge
a snuffbox (which is closed)
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You describe your surroundings
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.
You examine the clock
Hand-carved by a German carver from dark wood; it was a present to the Count by a political ally. The Countess considered the clock a bit gauche, but was persuaded that it would be impolite not to display it.

It consists of the face, a pendulum and pair of weights, and a little door above the face that opens when the hour is struck. It is not ticking at the moment. The clock shows the time to be 10:13.
You examine the pendulum
Metal, and shaped like a disc at the end of a rod. As so often.
Swing pendulum
You give the pendulum an encouraging shove, but the friction of the system seems to be against it, and it soon falls still again, the main mechanisms of the clock unawakened.
You look at the weights
The weight is hanging at the bottom of a length of chain.

It was a long journey down here, and you're wishing you had had something to eat.
You pull the weights
You give a tug to the weight chain and pull it all the way back up to the top.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the clock
It consists of the face, a pendulum and pair of weights, and a little door above the face that opens when the hour is struck. It is currently on and ticking. The clock shows the time to be 10:14.

Just on the quarter-hour the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings a brief warbling tune, then withdraws into its little door.
You look at your surroundings
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock clicks closed.
Go downward
Darkness presses in on every side; nothing is visible, and you are sure only of your own possessions.
Go up
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go north
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner, the planets rotating in their orbits.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.

The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
You examine the bookshelves
The shelves line both sides of the room from floor to ceiling.

The model universe clicks.
You search the bookshelves
You peruse the nearest books. Your eye picks out, at random, On Vegetable Dyes and Clock Repair.

The model universe clicks.
You take the books
What, all of them?

The model universe clicks.
You take the Dyes
(putting the snuffbox into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
You take the Clock Repair
(putting the sponge into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The model universe clicks.
You read the Dyes
You flip through the pages, becoming transfixed by a discussion of how the Celts, supposedly, were wont to dye clothing in a decoction of powdered lichen and stale piss, brewed together for three weeks and then strained.

But beside this pleasant concoction there are references to others, such as onion skin boiled in water to produce a pleasant yellow.

The model universe clicks.
I wide
You are carrying two books (Clock Repair and On Vegetable
Dyes), a stone block, a butcher knife, a sword, a hinge-lidded
teapot (which is open), inside which is not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot), a sack (which is open), inside which are a sponge, a snuffbox (which is closed), a white handkerchief, two metal dishes (a plate and a cup), a swordstick and five food items (a bay leaf, a sprig of parsley, a sprig of mint, a clove of garlic and a single yellow onion) and a dashing hat (being worn).

The model universe clicks.
You look at the handkerchief
A square of good linen; rather nice, really. It is currently colored white.

The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.
You read the Clock
A detailed discourse on how to take care of and repair an assortment of common and mechanical clocks. It begins with comprehensible matters, such as pulling up the weights to begin the operation of the pendulum when the clock has stopped, and other bits of routine maintenance; it finishes with diagrams of a clock's inner workings that are almost embarrassingly intimate and far too complex for you to follow.

The model universe clicks.
You examine model
Fitted out with tiny planets on arms, and the major moons of the planets, revolving around a center. There is no sun, however; there is only a sort of holder designed to contain something spherical.

Most of the planets are ordinary balls of solid metal, except for Jupiter. They are in motion.

Oddly, the contraption also seems to be linked, and quite unsubtly, to something in the foyer, to the south. You can feel the pull of it.

The planets turn slowly around the empty sun-holder.

Something about the model universe tickles your recollection.
You remember the model
...

The Count was standing in the library, tinkering with the model; Marie was bent over it as well, instructing him about what to connect where.

"I will never understand," he remarked to you, "how it is that she has such a mechanical mind. Not the least interest in diplomacy..."

"It is my cold heart, Papa," she replied, tossing aside her clockmaking tools.

"It is done?" he asked her.

"Put the light in," she said, "and then make it go."

You turned away. "Stay and see how it works!" Marie called after you.

"Sorry, infant, the road to Paris is long..."

...

The model universe clicks.
You examine the jupiter
Jupiter is a large sphere of copperish metal, though it is pierced through and has a sort of lens inserted in the center.

The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
You take the jupiter
The planets are not removable.

The planets turn slowly around the empty sun-holder.
You look at the lens
The lens looks as though, were something in the central holder, it would focus the light out and away.

The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
You go south
You're getting pretty hungry.

Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You pull the weights
You give a tug to the weight chain and pull it all the way back up to the top.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the pendulum
Metal, and shaped like a disc at the end of a rod. As so often.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You touch the pendulum
Smooth and cool.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
Sf1
Ok.
Look around
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You check your inventory
You are carrying two books (Clock Repair and On Vegetable
Dyes), a stone block, a butcher knife, a sword, a hinge-lidded
teapot (which is open), inside which is not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot), a sack (which is open), inside which are a sponge, a snuffbox (which is closed), a white handkerchief, two metal dishes (a plate and a cup), a swordstick and five food items (a bay leaf, a sprig of parsley, a sprig of mint, a clove of garlic and a single yellow onion) and a dashing hat (being worn).

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
Go upwards
Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving rooms. (You and Marie used to sit up here when the Count had guests, watching them arrive downstairs in their magnificent clothing, until you got old enough to be introduced yourselves.)

North is the old conservatory.
You go to the east
In days gone by you ran up and down these halls with Marie, and were barely able to stop at the end, skidding in your stockings the last few feet before the stairs began. She's gone now, both the little girl with dusk-blonde curls and the somewhat older one with dangerous slanting eyes and cleverly backwards magics; the dust falls long and slowly, the walls echo with absence.

West is the top of the staircase, and rooms open to the north and east.

The door east is closed.

A small portrait hangs on the wall.
You examine the portrait
Oil on wood, of a small, pinch-faced girl who gazes down on you with awareness and pity. It is not especially well-executed, and probably
You examine the portrait
worth little on the market, but it has always filled you with a kind of resentment -- even now.

Oil on wood, of a small, pinch-faced girl who gazes down on you with awareness and pity. It is not especially well-executed, and probably worth little on the market, but it has always filled you with a kind of resentment -- even now.
You go east
You'll have to get the tall door unlocked first.
Go north
This was the countess' favorite room, and it is more richly decorated than any other in the house, betraying her taste for the brightly-colored and the jewel-like. The count brought her some things from his travels, and made others for her. Most of the contents seem to be gone -- the chairs and sofas, and the wall hangings -- but some bits remain.

A thick-pile Persian rug lies on the floor, patterned in lapis and emerald.

Against one wall is a glass case full of rare and valuable clockwork figures.
You examine the case
The case is specially made of glass and wood. Inscribed into the surface of the glass with a fine cutting tool are the words: "CAREFUL! DO NOT BREAK!"

Inside are mechanical dancers and a clockwork bee.

Something about the glass case tickles your recollection.
You remember the case
...

Many years ago, the Countess stood at this case, looking at the contents. "Sometimes I feel like one of these," she said, softly. "Trapped..."

She met your eye. "You don't understand what I am saying, do you?"

You shook your head.

"They are made of gears and magic links," she said. "They have no choices."

...
You look at the bee
A life-sized golden bee, its wings made of planed gems. It is, unfortunately, equipped with an ingenious equivalent of a sting -- a tail endowed with blades that will cut into any sensitive thing it settles on. And these have been tipped with a vicious poison.
You examine the dancers
The dancers are antique, and peculiar. Their costume replicates an English mode of the sixteenth century: the lady wears a skirt of beaten copper, pierced in designs, and around the gentleman's neck is a ruff of folded silver, though with long neglect it has begun to darken. As for their skin, it is all carved ivory.

They both of them stand on a floor made up of cogs, to permit them to spin and dance around.
You take the dancers
The glass case isn't open.

It comes into your mind, yet again, that you'd hoped to find some sustenance here.
You examine the rug
So thick and luxurious that it seemed the strangest possession in a house of wonders, when you first came here. Marie used to lie on it, eschewing chairs and sofas, and read in a triangle of sunlight, the halo of her hair and the bleeding color of the carpet so bright it burned to look at. And then she'd fall asleep--

It's a deep, thick carpet, so comfortable that your mother would have been happy to have it for a bed. The pattern is intricate and peculiar.
You look at the pattern
It's a deep, thick carpet, so comfortable that your mother would have been happy to have it for a bed. The pattern is intricate and peculiar.
You move the rug
You move the rug to reveal... the floor.
Look around
This was the countess' favorite room, and it is more richly decorated than any other in the house, betraying her taste for the brightly-colored and the jewel-like. The count brought her some things from his travels, and made others for her. Most of the contents seem to be gone -- the chairs and sofas, and the wall hangings -- but some bits remain.

A thick-pile Persian rug lies on the floor, patterned in lapis and emerald.

Against one wall is a glass case full of rare and valuable clockwork figures.
Go south
A long empty room with shined wooden floors, perfect for sliding in stocking-feet. West is the top of the staircase, and rooms open to the north and east.

The door east is closed.

A small portrait hangs on the wall.
You go west
Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving rooms.

North is the old conservatory.
You go north
A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is a celestial bauble.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.
You examine the bauble
A delicate ornament made of glass, containing inside it a little sun and star that whirl infinitely in the hollow space. It was a plaything of Marie's, which (due to careful reverse linking to a perfectly round rock) she could hurl at walls and never break, drop down staircases and find intact at the bottom. But it is very doubtful that the link has lasted out the years.
You get the bauble
It is too high for you to reach.
You look at the pianoforte
Legs and case are fashioned out of a dark, heavy wood, with the keys of the usual colors. The music stand is empty, which is an odd sight. The Countess used to bring composers to the house, to talk to and sometimes to sponsor in small ways; her own compositions she was too reserved to share with the musical groups, but she would labor over them in the afternoons, filling the upstairs with the sounds of trills and runs, always soaring and bird-like.
You play the piano
You sit down at the piano and begin to play, as you have not in years: a minuette.
I tall
You are carrying:
two books:
Clock Repair
On Vegetable Dyes
a stone block
a butcher knife
a sword
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a sponge
a snuffbox (which is closed)
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You link the sponge to the bauble
Bending your will, you form the link between the sponge and the celestial bauble.
Reverse link bauble to sponge
The two are already linked.
Unlink bauble
You succeed in unlinking the celestial bauble from the sponge.
Reverse link bauble to sponge
Bending your will and all your attention, you manage to make a reverse-link between the celestial bauble and the sponge, feeling their properties begin to merge together.
You examine the bauble
A delicate ornament made of glass, containing inside it a little sun and star that whirl infinitely in the hollow space. It was a plaything of Marie's, which (due to careful reverse linking to a perfectly round rock) she could hurl at walls and never break, drop down staircases and find intact at the bottom.

The effect has proved easy enough to copy now that you are a bit more practiced in your skills, though at the time it seemed very difficult.
You examine the shelf
A high shelf on which the countess used to display things she thought would be good for you to observe but not touch: ivory figurines, a crucifix made of gold, an asphyxiated butterfly in a glass jar.
You take the sponge
(putting the sword into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You drop it
Dropped.

You should have stopped at an inn on the way down. And eaten.
You throw the sponge at the bauble
(first taking the sponge)
The sponge shoots through the air. It strikes the celestial bauble, which rolls off the high shelf. It strikes the ground with a
clenk of glass on stone. The sponge falls on the high shelf.
Inventory
You are carrying:
two books:
Clock Repair
On Vegetable Dyes
a stone block
a butcher knife
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a sword
a snuffbox (which is closed)
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You throw the Clock Repair at the bauble
Clock Repair strikes the celestial bauble, which rolls off
the high shelf. It strikes the ground. Clock Repair lands
on the high shelf.
You get the bauble
Taken.
You examine model
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner, the planets rotating in their orbits.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.

The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.

Fitted out with tiny planets on arms, and the major moons of the planets, revolving around a center. There is no sun, however; there is only a sort of holder designed to contain something spherical.

Most of the planets are ordinary balls of solid metal, except for Jupiter. They are in motion.

Oddly, the contraption also seems to be linked, and quite unsubtly, to something in the foyer, to the south. You can feel the pull of it.

The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.
You put the bauble in the holder
The celestial bauble clicks neatly into position.

The model universe ticks ever so faintly in its motions.
You wait awhile
Time passes.

The model universe ticks ever so faintly in its motions.
You look at the planets
All the moons and planets are made of different materials to represent their different types.

In the model universe is a celestial bauble.

The lens inside the Jupiter ball glitters in the ambient light.
You examine the lens
The lens looks as though, were something in the central holder, it would focus the light out and away.

In the model universe is a celestial bauble.

The lens inside the Jupiter ball glitters in the ambient light.
You examine the bauble
A delicate ornament made of glass, containing inside it a little sun and star that whirl infinitely in the hollow space. It was a plaything of Marie's, which (due to careful reverse linking to a perfectly round rock) she could hurl at walls and never break, drop down staircases and find intact at the bottom.

The effect has proved easy enough to copy now that you are a bit more practiced in your skills, though at the time it seemed very difficult.

The model universe ticks ever so faintly in its motions.
You go north
A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is Clock Repair.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.

You can also see a sponge here.
You go to the west
In your hunger, you hallucinate the hearts of artichokes.

Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting sunlight over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.
You look at the mirror
Framed with twists and curls of gilded wood, most abstract, though along the top are floral swags.
You look through the window
Through the windows you can see the gardens -- first a wide patch of green, and then the flower plots delineated by hedges and topiary, and the scattered statues.
You examine the desk
A deep, satin-lustrous cherry, with gilt-metal decorations. The years have not been kind, and it has cracked and split in several places; the finish is damaged, and where there is inlaid mother of pearl, it is beginning to come up from its bed. But it is still a sound piece, and features two drawers.
You open the drawer
Which do you mean, the top drawer or the bottom drawer?
Top
You open the top drawer, revealing some household papers.
You look at the papers
A small pile of papers, written over in Marie's handwriting, dealing with various day-to-day matters: menus for dinner parties, seating diagrams for the table, an account of how she had spent her pin-money.
You read the papers
You pick out of the pile some notes for the design of the contraption in the kitchen downstairs: Marie's project, apparently. There are lists of foods, and sketches, which you cannot entirely follow, of machinery, with the links drawn in in colored ink. Whatever she was doing, she seems to have been quite intent on it and for a long time.
You open the bottom drawer
You open the bottom drawer, revealing a dark wooden box.
You look at the box
Which do you mean, the dark wooden box or the snuffbox?
Dark
A dark wooden box that smells faintly exotic.
You open it
You open the dark wooden box, revealing an mirror inset inside the box, a pearl necklace and an old letter.
You open the letter
You crack the seal, aware that you are trespassing on what was meant to be a private confidence.

Inside is the count's long black writing: he used to sit at his desk in the gold lamplight, tossing back the lace of his cuff with a little flick so that it would not drag in the ink.
You look at the mirror
(the gilt-wood mirror)
Framed with twists and curls of gilded wood, most abstract, though along the top are floral swags.
You link the mirror to mirror
(the gilt-wood mirror to the gilt-wood mirror)
Redundant; all things are themselves.
You read the letter
At the top of the page is a sketch of dancing figures. Then:

Devv Rtare,

Ea tu irymhg flolehi e uo rte aose, aeruwsrm ssot. Ea ytfisto kfho
tu niame morv es mias, liess tadp. I moiero ardson. Leaovslo ni smeol nao tfyss nti atte.

Eng deyr tairlsro or ebtdnt ruo, u tastfcoi omatcnn oli epss ltnf
uic -- hse rfoetns nm mode -- e, e edyle. S a eofd. Thhaw fee in aim yd dynwadt, sdore httv eneo hengey oguar. Tphp! gehe tlooer w, own plinh lri. L lt ara nsycgro holi iw ouerey wrvlio ie emk: uwt, tmeo irthsoleo, esk lstela nohdy fo rell. Teesana r rtv lntv heodhae bygeny ea osthelo dui iwsarfn: Ielly dsllio yh ly fuo taoefuo n y oh bto od. Irytfdn. Ooh teguueh r. Sgrret ihmdo ewalh ntaplathy tflg echeaimhet. Rvaeyc g efo, erap rui urroln, ebi mitdr c mghee. Ecness iarost, fryt aiyrohk; toyuee bufr rle mom. Sea mi btnsaso feen wro pdw. Enrlahlb meu. Ol ui. Ag h tniyetse l yreowlo. Irm hd ug neoet, hoownht tt ulsao i ratr pcs nmgre. K dy i ayil dr col aeltl acum hlska si. Cat n oso sod r wmhy. Irieooaybnr kwa.

Uyeie cto sn lh wutt. Lihwuha leece, sd.al db danoee e tdsac sese.
Ta p aothm enco ier dt eauoio v nsf noe gslgkre tiytyr eno. Hdopk. Utra ot loe tudo psylin ioodege. Tun aarhw oss hds an tesesli loeny tiyi o guvo tt rdeuwoae tdia abhes lsr aue myotsho.

Ot mrisu haamt re. Rnovfeb cree yue yr sotro yiucn ulnrof ricmon
wssht dtlhe h. I hoeae. Kanwl rnt gatae a ash ylube halle f in sdtold oyhrd, wwo eek eour. Ce ee av stponeil. A nd rn onhihwo eif eaky meina fmunte tcloyfe. alw o. orrytunh. Eihadi fk ar o fa e. I h dhnb n idiyuks imctoitiatnni nshtaon. Risoa hysy vtily oi hs iounevf.
You look at the mirror inset
A shining panel that reflects whatever is inside the box.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity dark squares of prepared chocolate.
Link inset tgilt-wood
Bending your will, you form the link between the mirror inset inside the box and the gilt-wood mirror.
Unlink inset
You succeed in unlinking the mirror inset inside the box from the gilt-wood mirror.
Reverse link inset tgilt-wood
Bending your will and all your attention, you manage to make a reverse-link between the mirror inset inside the box and the gilt-wood mirror, feeling their properties begin to merge together.
You look at the inset
A shining panel that reflects whatever is inside the box.
You look at the gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
Framed with twists and curls of gilded wood, most abstract, though along the top are floral swags.
You describe your surroundings
Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting sunlight over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.
Unlink gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
You succeed in unlinking the gilt-wood mirror from the mirror inset inside the box.
Link gilt to inset
(the gilt-wood mirror to the mirror inset inside the box)
Bending your will, you form the link between the gilt-wood mirror and the mirror inset inside the box.
You look in the inset
In the mirror you see reflected your own face, a bit distant and strange. And then a desk. Around the edges you can make out other indications of Marie's Chamber.
You look in the gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
In the mirror you see reflected your own face, a bit distant and strange. And then a pearl necklace and an old letter.
Go east
A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is Clock Repair.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.
Go south
Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving rooms.

North is the old conservatory.
Go downward
Stone walls, ribbed ceiling, but only a packed-earth floor in spots. The room is lined on both sides with boxes and barrels, which take on odd shapes in the semi-darkness and seem vaguely menacing. You feared this room as a child, and it still seems cold and unnerving.

The twisting stairs ascend to the ground floor.

An ordinary wooden door seals the east exit.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sponge
On Vegetable Dyes
a stone block
a butcher knife
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a sword
a snuffbox (which is closed)
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You look at the door
An ordinary wooden door.
You open it
You open the cellar door.
Search boxes
You look inside one of the nearby barrels and find some vanilla beans, of which you take one.
You eat the apple
(first taking the apples)
(putting the butcher knife into the sack to make room)
Oh, no, no. You don't just cram yourself with whatever pathetic foodstuff lies at hand -- no one with any self-respect lives that way. What you want is a meal, prepared with some sensitivity and forethought.
You take the apple
You already have those.
Go east
An awkward wedge of space between the foundations of the main house and the walls of the new-built wine cellar, east. The staircase does not leave much room to stand in; it is straight and carefully planed lest anyone trip with a priceless bottle of wine.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the east.

An ordinary wooden door opens west into the root cellar.
You go to the east
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

An open russet door leads northeast.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.
You open grey-blue
That's already open.

In your hunger, you hallucinate creme caramel.
Go south
Almost all gone now, though the labels still adhere to the racks, indicating where a '67 rested, or an '82, waiting to be taken up to the dining room.

A closed russet door leads east.

There is a grey-blue trap door closed in the middle of the room, just visible among the dust as a less-dusty area.

An open grey-blue door leads north.
You open the trap door
It seems to be locked.
You go to the north
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.

An open russet door leads northeast.

A closed red door leads east.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.
You go to the east
You'll have to get the red door leading east unlocked first.
You examine the red door
Which do you mean, the red door leading east or the red vault door?
East
A red door leading east, currently closed.
Go northeast
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals. The Count always used to say that a good cognac would close a diplomatic matter more quickly than any bribe. He never let you and Marie stay, of course, on the evenings when he had business; you would be sent up to the conservatory with the Countess, to practice your music and wait for him to finish whatever matters kept him with his guests.

A closed russet door leads east.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

A closed green door leads south.

An open russet door leads southwest.
You open the russet
(the russet door leading east)
It seems to be locked.
You go southeast
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

A closed yellow door leads southwest.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.

An open peacock door leads northwest.

A closed peacock door leads west.

There is also a single bottle of mead remaining in one of the slots.
You look at the opening
A small hole in the south wall.
You search it
Through the hole you see Cheese Corner. You can dimly make out a heavy chest, a silver key and a green glass jar.
You examine the white
(the white door leading north)
On close examination, you have the impression that the paint on this door has either faded or been washed over with whitewash; you can still see faint streaks of some darker color, but their efficacy would seem to be gone.
You take the mead
(putting the stone block into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You wash white with the sponge
(the white door leading north with the sponge)
You scrape at the door ineffectually for a while -- just long enough to reveal that it would take all day to remove the white from the door. But you can see that the underlying paint color was once blue.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
two food items:
some apples
a vanilla bean
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sponge
On Vegetable Dyes
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a stone block
a butcher knife
a sword
a snuffbox (which is closed)
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You look at the snuffbox
A little pastel-colored metal box in which you keep your supply of snuff.
You open it
You open the snuffbox, revealing a quantity of snuff.
You open the box
(the dark wooden box)
That's already open.
You take the snuff
You put a pinch -- really just the tiniest bit -- on the back of one hand and lift it to your nose. Refreshing, invigorating, and mercifully not spoilt with an excess of perfume such as everyone seems to prefer these days.

In your hunger, you hallucinate a salad of dressed spinach greens in a vinaigrette.
You eat the snuff
(first taking the snuff)
Your nose is assailed by a vigorous prickling. Really, it is possible to overdo this sort of thing.
Lick snuff
That would be a disastrous misapplication.
You take mead
You already have that.
You examine the mead
Aside from the contents, an entirely ordinary bottle. The cork is still wedged firmly in place.
You look around
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit. All are gone now.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

A closed yellow door leads southwest.

An open peacock door leads northwest.

A closed peacock door leads west.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.
Go northwest
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

An open russet door leads southwest.

A closed russet door leads east.

A closed green door leads south.
Go southwest
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open russet door leads northeast.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.

A closed red door leads east.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.
You look at the chains
So heavily wreathed in chains and locks, in fact, that it is hard to imagine the keys even still existing. The locks are thickly rusted over, and would in all likelihood refuse to accept a key if you tried.
You break the chains with the stone
(first taking the stone block)
(putting On Vegetable Dyes into the sack to make room)
The stone block strikes the red vault door.
You examine the locks
Which do you mean, the brass door or the red vault door?
Inventory
You are carrying:
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
two food items:
some apples
a vanilla bean
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sponge
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
On Vegetable Dyes
a butcher knife
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
five food items:
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You examine the necklace
More a girl's ornament than a woman's, with small lustrous pearls, but the pendant is cut diamond and the clasps are gold. Her mother gave it to her one birthday -- the same year that you had bought, by carefully hoarding your allowances, a bracelet of onyx beads for her, threaded on silk and silver... But she never wore your little trinket.

No matter. You have bought better jewellery for other women since, and it has most certainly been worn.
Link heavy to east
(the red door leading east)
The linkages on the doors are very old, and set with a power stronger than your raw will alone can manipulate.
Look around
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open russet door leads northeast.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.

A closed red door leads east.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.
Go northeast
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

An open russet door leads southwest.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

A closed russet door leads east.

A closed green door leads south.
Go southeast
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit. All are gone now.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

An open peacock door leads northwest.

A closed yellow door leads southwest.

A closed peacock door leads west.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.
Reverse link white to letter
(the white door leading north to the old letter)
The linkages on the doors are very old, and set with a power stronger than your raw will alone can manipulate.
You go to the northwest
In your hunger, you hallucinate curls of toasted bread. The image is more vivid than the vision of food has any right to be.

Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

An open russet door leads southwest.

A closed russet door leads east.

A closed green door leads south.
You closthe wine-cellar door
You close the brass door.
You examine the brass
The wood core of the door has been covered with flat brass panels, perhaps for reinforcement but more likely for decoration.
Go west
(first opening the brass door)
You open the brass door.

An awkward wedge of space between the foundations of the main house and the walls of the new-built wine cellar, east. The staircase does not leave much room to stand in; it is straight and carefully planed lest anyone trip with a priceless bottle of wine.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the east.

An ordinary wooden door opens west into the root cellar.
Up
A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors give west onto the main house.
Go north
You can go only east, west or southwest.
Go west
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner, the planets rotating in their orbits.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.

The lens inside the Jupiter ball glitters in the ambient light.
You take the bauble
(putting the sponge into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The model universe clicks.
Examine books
You peruse the nearest books. Your eye picks out, at random, Guide
to Assorted Wines.

The model universe clicks.
You take the Wines
(putting the dark wooden box into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.
You read it
... from the region of Avignon, in the territories that belonged
to the Pope, comes the peppery red Chateauneuf du Pape...

The model universe clicks.
Examine books
You peruse the nearest books. Your eye picks out, at random, The Lavori d'Aracne.

The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.
You take lavori
(putting the vanilla bean into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The model universe clicks.

In your hunger, you dream of onion soup.
You read it
On the subject of mirrors: Unusual and costly mirrors of special
power exist which enhance the workings of the lavori d'Aracne; they may be recognized by their failure to reflect in the ordinary way. Some make it easier to form a link through the mirror than through open air, allowing the magician to reverse-link items that are otherwise too dissimilar to use. Likewise, such a mirror...

But then, unfortunately, it breaks off, the page apparently having been chewed out and carried away by something or other.

The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.
Examine books
You have found all the books that seem interesting. The rest are dusty and dull-looking.

The planets turn slowly around the empty sun-holder.
You go upward
Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving
Unlink inset
rooms.

North is the old conservatory.

You succeed in unlinking the mirror inset inside the box from the gilt-wood mirror.
You search inset
In the mirror you see reflected your own face, a bit distant and strange. And then a pearl necklace and an old letter.
You go north
A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is Clock Repair.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.
You go to the west
Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting sunlight over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.
You search the gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
In the mirror you see reflected your own face, a bit distant and strange. And then a desk. Around the edges you can make out other indications of Marie's Chamber.
You link the mirror to bauble
(the gilt-wood mirror to the celestial bauble)
The mirror is incompatible with anything that is not similarly reflective.
You take the gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
Too heavy for you to remove.
You link the bauble to the sun
(the sunlight)
(first unlinking the celestial bauble)
You succeed in unlinking the celestial bauble from the sponge.
Bending your will, you form the link between the celestial bauble and the sunlight.

The celestial bauble starts to glow with reflected light.
Go north
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner, the planets rotating in their orbits.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.

The model universe clicks.
You put the bauble in the holder
The celestial bauble clicks neatly into position, shining over all the surrounding planets just as the sun ought.

The model universe spins, turning slowly around the light at the center, and each of the planets itself turning. After a few moments, Jupiter rotates until the lens catches the light from the sun and casts a light on a particular book on the shelves, entitled "The World is Hollow."

Then they come to a halt.
You take Hollow
(putting the apples into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You read it
The pages of the book have been hollowed out, leaving a square hole. In The World Is Hollow is a jeweled pin.
You take the pin
(putting the bottle of mead into the sack to make room)
Taken.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity an omelette of herbs and chives.
You look at it
Decorated with fine-chip diamonds, and formed into the shape of a complicated bow of several strands, for a lady's use. The clasp is currently shut.
You open it
You open the jeweled pin.
You examine the portrait
Oil on wood, of a small, pinch-faced girl; the writing on the back says it is the Baroness D'Envers at a young age, which would make her some distant cousin of the Count, several generations back, and also related to the man currently holding all your notes.

It is not especially well-executed, and probably worth fairly little on the market.
Look around
A long empty room with shined wooden floors, perfect for sliding in stocking-feet. West is the top of the staircase, and rooms open to the north and east.

The door east is closed.
You take the rug
(putting Guide to Assorted Wines into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You throw the stone at the glass
(first taking the stone block)
(putting The Lavori d'Aracne into the sack to make room)
The stone block races through the air before striking the glass case. The glass case breaks. It leaves behind the clockwork bee and the mechanical human dancers and the stone block comes to rest on the ground.

The clockwork bee buzzes faintly, spreading its jeweled wings.
You smash the glass with the stone
(first taking the stone block)
The stone block strikes the glass shards, which smash dramatically.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
You smash the bee with the stone
(first taking the stone block)
The bee flits sideways just in the nick of time. Trapping it by speed is evidently not going to be very successful, since it has a clear advantage over you in that department.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
Reverse link bee with stone
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they seem as though they will never go together.

Reverse links are even pickier than regular links that way.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
You check your inventory
Please give one of the answers above.
You look at what you're carrying with you
You are carrying:
a rug
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
two books:
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (providing light)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sponge
a butcher knife
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
two books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
On Vegetable Dyes
seven food items:
some apples
a vanilla bean
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
a dashing hat (being worn)
You open the mead
Opening a container of mead while it is in the sack seems like an invitation to disaster.
You read Wines
(first taking Guide to Assorted Wines)

(putting The Lavori d'Aracne into the sack to make room)
Taken.

...should then attend to the possibility that the vines have themselves been tainted...
Keep going
... from the region of Avignon, in the territories that belonged
to the Pope, comes the peppery red Chateauneuf du Pape...
You go south
A long empty room with shined wooden floors, perfect for sliding in stocking-feet. West is the top of the staircase, and rooms open to the north and east.

The door east is closed.
You descend
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.

In your hunger, you hallucinate little grey-pink mushrooms. Or perhaps frosted petits-four.
You go to the northeast
A grand room, for dining in style. The plastered ceiling is several times your height. The air now is cool and deep, the sunlight glancing through the windows and scattering from the chandelier, putting points of light at your feet, over the table, across the painted wallpaper and the handsome wood paneling.

Woodworked columns frame the exits west and southwest.

Heavy double doors open east to the kitchen.
You remember the wallpaper
...

"So the man linked himself to a suit of armor. And then he left the suit of armor at home, and went off to war to fight in his bare skin, thinking that whatever happened to him, the links would protect him. But at home his wife was horrified to see the armor slashed in pieces before her eyes..."

"Anabelle," interrupted the Count, standing at the doorway with a hand on his vest. "Do you really think this story is appropriate for the children?"

The Countess shrugged, half-smiling as she always had when the Count overrode her authority. "I hardly think it is any more disturbing than the other things Marie reads," she said lightly. "The dining room is more frightening than this story."

"I don't mean that, of course." The Count smiled over you and Marie -- you on the floor, Marie with her skirts spread around her on the chaise. "But our children should not be told silly
superstitions about linking." He came into the room then, touching the Countess' shoulder with an affectionate gesture. "Marie," he said, "What is wrong with your mother's story?"

"The man has confused reverse-links and ordinary ones," Marie replied. "And he would have to be very stupid to do that, because reverse-links are harder to make and you can always tell when you have done it."

The Count nodded at her. "Very good." He kissed the Countess and went out again...

...
You go to the east
A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors give west onto the main house.
You link roses to the bay leaf
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they seem as though they will never go together.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a rug
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (providing light)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sponge
a butcher knife
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
seven food items:
some apples
a vanilla bean
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
two books:
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
a dashing hat (being worn)
two books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
You put the sponge in the pipe
(first taking the sponge)
(putting The World Is Hollow into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You wedge the sponge into the drain hole, blocking it.
You fill teapot
What do you want to fill the hinge-lidded teapot with?
Water
Which do you mean, the water in the well or the water in the hinge-lidded teapot?
You fill the teapot with well
(first taking the well)
That's hardly portable.

In your hunger, you hallucinate fresh white cheese.
You fill the teapot with the water from well
You put some water in the hinge-lidded teapot. This fills the hinge-lidded teapot to the brim. The water mixes with what was already there.
You put the water in the washbasin
You put some water in the drain hole, exhausting the supply in the hinge-lidded teapot.
You look at the drain
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole are some water and a Tea Recipe.
You examine Recipe
A cylinder of silver metal as long as the middle joint of your thumb. On the surface are a series of strange bumps, depressions, and grooves, seeming carefully wrought and utterly intentional. The core of the cylinder is hollow, but over one end is a piece of paper which bears a label, in careful lettering, which reads, "Tea Recipe."
You go to the east
You can go only south.
Go east
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

A tangle of climbing roses covers almost completely the wall and door of a shed to the southeast.

(You can see a few drops of the water beginning to drip from the outflow pipe into the drainage ditch, but the sponge seems to be holding most of it back.)
You fill the teapot with water from well
You put some water in the hinge-lidded teapot. This fills the hinge-lidded teapot to the brim.
You put the water in the washbasin
The mouth of the hole is too narrow to allow you to get liquids back out of it.
You put the water from the teapot in the washbasin
You put some water in the drain hole, exhausting the supply in the hinge-lidded teapot. The water mixes with what was already there.
You look at the drain
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole are a great deal of water and a Tea Recipe.

Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole are a great deal of water and a Tea Recipe.

In your hunger, you hallucinate little grey-pink mushrooms.
You examine the drain
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole are a great deal of water and a Tea Recipe.
You take the sponge
Taken.

The water goes out the drain. The water mixes with what was already there.
Y.
debugcheapnitfol quit with exit status: 0
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a rug
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a sack (which is open)
a stone block
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (providing light)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a butcher knife
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
seven food items:
some apples
a vanilla bean
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
three books:
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
a dashing hat (being worn)
Guide to Assorted Wines
You read the Guide to the Wines
...some dry wine such as Sauvignon Blanc...
Shake bottle
Nothing much results of this.
You break bottle with the stone
(the washbasin)
(first taking the washbasin)
That's hardly portable.
You take the stone block
(putting Guide to Assorted Wines into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You drop the mead
You set the bottle of mead down gently.
You hit bottle with the stone
(the stone block)
The stone block strikes the blue bottle. The blue bottle cracks dramatically, depositting the mead.
You link the cork to Tea Recipe
Bending your will, you form the link between the cork and the Tea Recipe.
You examine the drain
Dark and hollow.

In the drain hole are a great deal of water and a Tea Recipe.
You examine Tea Recipe
A cylinder of silver metal as long as the middle joint of your thumb. On the surface are a series of strange bumps, depressions, and grooves, seeming carefully wrought and utterly intentional. The core of the cylinder is hollow, but over one end is a piece of paper which bears a label, in careful lettering, which reads, "Tea Recipe."
Unlink cork
You succeed in unlinking the cork from the Tea Recipe.
Reverse link cork to Tea Recipe
Bending your will and all your attention, you manage to make a reverse-link between the cork and the Tea Recipe, feeling their properties begin to merge together.

The Tea Recipe floats on the surface of the water.
You take Tea
(putting the hinge-lidded teapot into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You open Tea
That would be impossible even if the Tea Recipe weren't reverse-linked.

In your hunger, you hallucinate curls of toasted bread.
You look around
A small, workmanlike room with a floor of white stones. The principal features of the room are a counter, with a large inset washbasin also made of stone, and a tall wooden cupboard.

You can see a puddle of mead and some glass shards here.
Go south
(treading gingerly around the glass bits)

A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which are some andouillettes).
You look at contraption
The body of the contraption is mostly just a large box, into which things can be put, and an assembly of clockwork parts in a separate case, not to be interfered with. There is also a dial which may be set to various positions, and a spindle, on which is a cylinder with a pattern of strange bumps on it, labeled "Andouillettes Recipe".

The delicate contraption is currently switched off.

In the delicate contraption are some andouillettes.
You take Andouillettes Recipe
(putting the jeweled pin into the sack to make room)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.
You put Tea Recipe on spindle
The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
You turn on the contraption
There is a regretful clicking noise from the vicinity of the lid-catch. Just as you think you are going to have to close it yourself, a gloved mechanical hand reaches up and slams the contraption shut from the inside.

The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. An irritable mechanical voice shouts from within, "I shall be requiring the cup in which to put this item!"
You put the cup in the contraption
(first taking the cup)
Taken.

(first opening the delicate contraption)
You open the contraption, revealing some andouillettes.
You put the cup into the delicate contraption.
You turn on the contraption
There is a regretful clicking noise from the vicinity of the lid-catch. Just as you think you are going to have to close it yourself, a gloved mechanical hand reaches up and slams the contraption shut from the inside.

The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. From inside the box comes a plaintive mechanical voice which declares, "Monsieur le Chef!! You need more! water!!!"

The mechanism whirrs a moment longer before its functioning gives out.
You touch Recipe
(the Andouillettes Recipe)
You run a finger reverently over the pattern of bumps and grooves, so artfully inscribed.
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing a cup.
You take the cup
(putting the small portrait into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You turn Recipe
(the Andouillettes Recipe)
Nothing obvious happens.
You take the teapot
(putting the rug into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You examine the teapot
A hinge-lidded teapot, glossed in white and decorated with the crest of the family, just as though it belonged to the family china pattern. The lid is attached with a hinge, and there is a long and delicate spout.
You fill the cup with the water
You put some water in the cup. This fills the cup to the brim.
You go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (which is empty).
You read Recipe
(the Andouillettes Recipe)
Andouillettes Recipe: andouillettes, olive oil, dry white wine,
single yellow onion, sea-salt.
You read Recipe
(the Andouillettes Recipe)
Andouillettes Recipe: andouillettes, olive oil, dry white wine,
single yellow onion, sea-salt.

In your hunger, you hallucinate thinly-sliced venison. Or perhaps the hearts of artichokes.
You read the Guide to the Wines
(first taking Guide to Assorted Wines)

(putting the stone block into the sack to make room)
Taken.

... from the region of Avignon, in the territories that belonged
to the Pope, comes the peppery red Chateauneuf du Pape...
You read Tea Recipe
The label is smudged and illegible.
You put the cup in the contraption
You put the cup into the delicate contraption.
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing a cup, inside which is some water.
You put water in the cup in contraption
You put some water in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the cup. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption.
You put the water in the teapot in the contraption
You put some water in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the hinge-lidded teapot. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption. The water mixes with what was already there.
You turn on the contraption
There is a regretful clicking noise from the vicinity of the lid-catch. Just as you think you are going to have to close it yourself, a gloved mechanical hand reaches up and slams the contraption shut from the inside.

The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. From inside the box comes a plaintive mechanical voice which declares, "Monsieur le Chef!! You cannot make an intinction without something to, how-you-say, steep!"
You put the mint in the contraption
(first taking the sprig of mint)
Taken.

(first opening the delicate contraption)
You open the contraption, revealing a cup and a great deal of water. You put the sprig of mint into the delicate contraption.

The sprig of mint bobs to the surface of the water.
You turn on the contraption
There is a regretful clicking noise from the vicinity of the lid-catch. Just as you think you are going to have to close it yourself, a gloved mechanical hand reaches up and slams the contraption shut from the inside.

The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. There is a bubbling, boiling noise from within the contraption.
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing a cup, inside which is some mint tea.
You take it
You might spill the mint tea.
You drink Tea
(the mint tea)
You upend the cup and take a sip of the mint tea, leaving only another few sips. Unmistakeably pepperminty.
You search the fireplace
The fireplace is empty.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity onion soup. Or perhaps creme caramel.
You go to the east
You'll have to get out of the fireplace first.
You cut the brick with the knife
(first taking the butcher knife)
It's just an ordinary knife, not diamond-edged.
You go west
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

The clockwork model universe has stopped; a beam of light from the "sun" at the center, focused through Jupiter, shines in the direction of the shelves, highlighting a spot where The World Is Hollow
used to be.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.
You look at the portrait
(the framed portrait)
The old man appears to stand in a vague, ruddy landscape; all the artist's attention was spared for his clothing, which is rendered in shimmering detail, lustrous silks and fur, and for the giant bi-partite mound of wig on his head, whose curls fall over each shoulder.

Something about the framed portrait tickles your recollection.
You remember the portrait
(the framed portrait)

...

"He can make links," the Countess hissed. Neither of them saw
you in the doorway of the library.

"Anabelle--"

"And don't tell me that your father strayed into some peasant's bed in his dotage, because I have seen Pierre's mother and she is
not old enough to--"

"Anabelle, calm yourself." He put a hand on her shoulder, spoke in his voice of diplomacy.

"Now you will tell me that he is some by-blow of someone passing through the village, I suppose? Some guest of ours, perhaps?" she asked bitterly. "I wondered why you were so ready to accept him--"

"I swear to you, Pierre is no son of mine. Nor, I think, is he any relative of ours for many generations. It is possible that these things appear sportively even among the lesser classes, you know..."

She shrugged his hand away. "There's something you aren't telling me," she said. "I always know it, you say so yourself."

He sighed. "I will tell you, Ana, but it is not what you think..."

...
You take the portrait
(the framed portrait)
The portrait is doubtless worth a good deal, but it is also taller than you are.
You examine the frame
The frame is carved with fruits and lightly gilded.
Go down
The mirror inset inside the box ceases glowing.

Darkness presses in on every side; nothing is visible, and you are sure only of your own possessions.
Link inset to gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
Bending your will, you form the link between the mirror inset inside the box and the gilt-wood mirror.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a butcher knife
a rug
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a sack (which is open)
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
two metal dishes:
a plate
a cup
a swordstick
seven food items:
some apples
a vanilla bean
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
three books:
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
a dashing hat (being worn)
Guide to Assorted Wines
Go east
A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is Clock Repair.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.

In your hunger, you dream of the small, bitter oranges of Jerusalem.
You examine the piano
Legs and case are fashioned out of a dark, heavy wood, with the keys of the usual color. The hinged lid lies closed, and there is a music stand, empty.
You open the lid
(the pianoforte)
You prop open the piano, revealing the strings within, and the hammers.
You look at the strings
Stretched metallic wire of varying lengths.
You examine the hammers
The hammers that strike the wires when the keys are pressed.
You take the hammers
That's fixed in place.
Go down
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

Exactly on the hour, the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings 4 times, then withdraws into its little door.
Go downwards
Stone walls, ribbed ceiling, but only a packed-earth floor in spots. The room is lined on both sides with boxes and barrels, which take on odd shapes in the semi-darkness and seem vaguely menacing. You feared this room as a child, and it still seems cold and unnerving.

The twisting stairs ascend to the ground floor.

Through the open door to the east you can make out the foot of the servants' staircase.
Go downward
You can go only east or up.
You closthe grey-blue door
(the grey-blue door leading north)
You close the grey-blue door leading north.

The grey-blue door leading down opens.
Go down
Used solely for storage of extra items (whether or not associated with the wines). The room is barely large enough to stand up in. (Now that you consider it, this room is probably the source of Marie's fables about the oubliette "somewhere in the wine cellar." This story always struck you as improbable, but you can't imagine that a person barred in here would get out easily. You also can't imagine the Count or any of his recent ancestors being moved to take such an action.)

The trap door is open to the room above, and you could easily pull yourself up through it if you so desired.

You can also see a blue glass jar (which is closed) (in which is some sea-salt) and a red glass jar (which is closed) (in which is a quantity of sugar) here.
You take the blue
(the blue glass jar)
(putting Guide to Assorted Wines into the sack to make room)
Taken.

In your hunger, you hallucinate sausages fried in onions and olive oil.
You take the red
(putting the hinge-lidded teapot into the sack to make room)
Taken.
Go upwards
Almost all gone now, though the labels still adhere to the racks, indicating where a '67 rested, or an '82, waiting to be taken up to the dining room.

A grey-blue trap door stands open in the middle of the room.

A closed grey-blue door leads north.

A closed russet door leads east.
You opethe grey-blue door
(the grey-blue door leading north)
You open the grey-blue door leading north.

The grey-blue door leading down shuts.
You go north
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

An open russet door leads northeast.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.
Go northeast
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

A closed russet door leads east.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

A closed green door leads south.

An open russet door leads southwest.
Go southeast
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit. All are gone now.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

An open yellow door leads southwest.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.

An open peacock door leads northwest.

A closed peacock door leads west.
Close NW
(the peacock door leading northwest)
You close the peacock door leading northwest.

The peacock door leading west opens.
You go west
With all the doors that lead out of this area, and the heavy pillars that support the roofbeams, there is little room for anything to be stored at all. The absence of racks has not prevented a heavy layer of dust from gathering here too, however.

An open peacock door leads east.

A closed green door leads north.

A closed green door leads south.

A closed red door leads west.

Over to one side, dropped as though carelessly by someone with a large number of things to carry, is a gleaming silver cylinder.
You examine the cylinder
A cylinder of silver metal as long as the middle joint of your thumb. On the surface are a series of strange bumps, depressions, and grooves. The core of the cylinder is hollow, but over one end is a paper label, which reads, "Chocolate Recipe."

Smaller writing on the label indicates the ingredient list.
You read it
Chocolate Recipe: vanilla bean, sugar, cocoa beans.
You take it
(putting the jeweled pin into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You open red
(the red door leading west)
It seems to be locked.
You look at the green door leading south
A green door leading south, currently closed.
You open north
(the green door leading north)
It seems to be locked.
You look around
With all the doors that lead out of this area, and the heavy pillars that support the roofbeams, there is little room for anything to be stored at all. The absence of racks has not prevented a heavy layer of dust from gathering here too, however.

A closed red door leads west.

An open peacock door leads east.

A closed green door leads south.

A closed green door leads north.
Go east
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit. All are gone now.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

An open peacock door leads west.

An open yellow door leads southwest.

A closed peacock door leads northwest.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.
You go to the southwest
Not a room of its own; barely a large enough niche to walk into, in fact.

An open yellow door leads northeast.

You can also see a round metal tin (which is closed) and an iron key here.
You examine the tin
A thin metal container, somewhat old.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity thinly-sliced venison, cold from the roast. Or perhaps dark squares of prepared chocolate.
You open it
You open the round metal tin, revealing some dark beans.
You look at the beans
A handful of dark beans.
You take the key
(putting the small portrait into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You look at the key
A key of iron metal, with a russet string tied through it.
You take the tin
(putting the rug into the sack to make room)
Taken.
Go northeast
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit. All are gone now.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

An open yellow door leads southwest.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.

A closed peacock door leads northwest.

An open peacock door leads west.
You look at the opening
A small hole in the south wall.
You look through the opening
Through the hole you see Cheese Corner. You can dimly make out a heavy chest, a silver key and a green glass jar.
You put the hand in the opening
Smooth and cool.
Close yellow
(the yellow door leading southwest)
You close the yellow door leading southwest.
Look around
Tall, slender bottles of ice-wine once resided here, delicate and sweet; and other fine vintages, waiting to be served with the cheese and fruit. All are gone now.

In the south wall, the stonework has crumbled a bit, revealing an opening through to the room beyond. You could get a glimpse through if you were careful not to cut off all the light in the process.

A closed yellow door leads southwest.

A closed peacock door leads northwest.

An open peacock door leads west.

A closed white door leads north; it looks oddly streaked.
You close the west door
You close the peacock door leading west.

The peacock door leading northwest opens.
You go to the northwest
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

A closed russet door leads east.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

A closed green door leads south.

An open russet door leads southwest.
You close the russet door
(the russet door leading southwest)
The russet door leading southwest is, as it turns out when you struggle with it for a bit, in fact rusted in the open position.
Go southwest
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

An open russet door leads northeast.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

The wine-cellar door is closed.
You unlock the red door with the key
Which do you mean, the red door leading east or the red vault door?
You close the south door
You close the grey-blue door leading south. As you do so, you hear from the room beyond it a peculiar screech and crashing noise, as though wood and metal had strained and then given way.
You go to the southwest
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open russet door leads northeast.

The wine-cellar door is closed.

A closed red door leads east.

A closed grey-blue door leads south.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

In your hunger, you dream of fresh white cheese.
You opethe wine-cellar door
You open the brass door.
You take Andouillettes
(putting the butcher knife into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You put the dark beans in the contraption
(first taking the dark beans)
(putting the blue glass jar into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put the dark beans into the delicate contraption.
You put the vanilla in the contraption
(first taking the vanilla bean)
Taken.

You put the vanilla bean into the delicate contraption.
You open the red jar
You open the red glass jar.
You put the sugar in the contraption
You put some sugar in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the red glass jar. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption.
You take Andouillettes Recipe
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.
Close contraption
You close the delicate contraption.
You turn it on
The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. An irritable mechanical voice shouts from within, "I shall be requiring the plate on which to put this item!"
You put the plate in the contraption
(first taking the plate)
Taken.

(first opening the delicate contraption)
You open the contraption, revealing three food items (a quantity of sugar, a vanilla bean and some dark beans).
You put the plate into the delicate contraption.
You turn it on
The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. There is such a long silence from inside the box that you think nothing is happening at all. Then, after a great pause, you begin to smell a distinctly sweet chocolatey smell.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity sausages fried in onions and olive oil, perhaps with a dash of dry wine. Or perhaps flaking puff pastry, wrapped around chicken and a white-wine mushroom sauce.
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing a plate, on top of which is a chocolate leaf.
You look at the leaf
Which do you mean, the chocolate leaf or the bay leaf?
Chocolate
A dark chocolate confection, formed into the shape of a leaf.
You link the chocolate to the roses
(the roses)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.
You put the snuff on the roses
(the roses)
(first taking the snuff)
You put a pinch -- really just the tiniest bit -- on the back of one hand and lift it to your nose. Refreshing, invigorating, and mercifully not spoilt with an excess of perfume such as everyone seems to prefer these days.
You look at the roses
(the roses)
More thorns than the usual, and fewer blooms, or so it seems to your eye.
You link the bay leaf to roses
(the roses)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they seem as though they will never go together.
You get the dirt
That's hardly portable.
You put the dirt on the roses
(the roses)
(first taking the soil)
That's hardly portable.
Empty snuffbox on roses
(the roses)
The roses can't contain things.
You throw the stone at the roses
(the well at the roses)
(first taking the well)
That's hardly portable.
You look at the roses
(the roses)
More thorns than the usual, and fewer blooms, or so it seems to your eye.
You look at the blooms
They're the red sort, of course, with a broad spread of petals -- but all grow up out of reach.
You look at the thorns
They grow in great abundance and sharpness.
Go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (which is empty).

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity frosted petits-four. Or perhaps creme caramel.
You examine the curtain
Hangings cover up the whole of the west wall, concealing both the wall and the door beyond.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
Move hangings
The door is still there.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the keyhole
A keyhole in a fitted brass plate. There is an ornate key in the keyhole, pushed in from the other side.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a plate
a chocolate leaf
an Andouillettes Recipe
some andouillettes
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
an iron key
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a sack (which is open)
a blue glass jar (which is closed)
some sea-salt (which leaves the blue glass jar about half full)
a butcher knife
a rug
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
a swordstick
six food items:
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a cup
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
a dashing hat (being worn)

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You link the ornate key to the iron
The keys resist linking, almost as though they were made to do so.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You put the rug under the door
(first taking the rug)
(putting the red glass jar into the sack to make room)
You can't get to the gothic door to do anything to it at the moment.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go north
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

The clockwork model universe has stopped; a beam of light from the "sun" at the center, focused through Jupiter, shines in the direction of the shelves, highlighting a spot where The World Is Hollow
used to be.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.
Slide
What do you want to slide?
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a rug
a plate
a chocolate leaf
an Andouillettes Recipe
some andouillettes
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
an iron key
a sack (which is open)
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a blue glass jar (which is closed)
some sea-salt (which leaves the blue glass jar about half full)
a butcher knife
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
a swordstick
six food items:
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a cup
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
a dashing hat (being worn)
You go east
In your hunger, you hallucinate fresh white cheese. Or perhaps purple-black Hellene olives in a tray, with the pits still in.

An awkward wedge of space between the foundations of the main house and the walls of the new-built wine cellar, east. The staircase does not leave much room to stand in; it is straight and carefully planed lest anyone trip with a priceless bottle of wine.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the east.

An ordinary wooden door opens west into the root cellar.
You go east
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

A closed grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

An open russet door leads northeast.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.
You close the red jar
You close the red glass jar.
You open the blue jar
Opening a container of sea-salt while it is in the sack seems like an invitation to disaster.
You take blue jar
(putting the iron key into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You open it
You open the blue glass jar.
Look around
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open russet door leads northeast.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.

A closed red door leads east.

A closed grey-blue door leads south.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a blue glass jar (which is open)
some sea-salt (which leaves the blue glass jar about half full)
a rug
a plate
a chocolate leaf
an Andouillettes Recipe
some andouillettes
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a sack (which is open)
an iron key
a red glass jar (which is closed)
a butcher knife
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
a swordstick
six food items:
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a cup
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
a dashing hat (being worn)
You link the red jar to red door
Which do you mean, the red door leading east or the red vault door?
East
The linkages on the doors are very old, and set with a power stronger than your raw will alone can manipulate.
You link the red jar to vault door
(first unlinking the red vault door)
The linkages on the doors are very old, and set with a power stronger than your raw will alone can manipulate.
You close the blue jar
You close the blue glass jar.
Reverse link red jar to blue jar
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.

Reverse links are even pickier than regular links that way.
You examine the snuffbox
A little pastel-colored metal box in which you keep your supply of snuff.

In the snuffbox is a quantity of snuff.
You open the south door
You open the grey-blue door leading south.
You examine the russet door
A russet door leading east, currently closed.
You unlock it with the iron key
(first taking the iron key)
(putting the round metal tin into the sack to make room)
You unlock the russet door leading east.
You open the russet
You open the russet door leading east.
You go to the east
Little remains -- the countess was exceedingly fond of her Rieslings, and it required constant restocking to keep this portion of the cellar properly supplied during her life.

A closed green door leads north.

A closed blue door leads east.

An open russet door leads west.

A dusty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc lies here.
You get the wine
(the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc)
(putting the andouillettes into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You go west
In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity the hearts of artichokes.

Almost all gone now, though the labels still adhere to the racks, indicating where a '67 rested, or an '82, waiting to be taken up to the dining room.

An open russet door leads east.

An open grey-blue door leads north.

There is a grey-blue trap door closed in the middle of the room, just visible among the dust as a less-dusty area.
Blanc
That's already closed.
Go east
Little remains -- the countess was exceedingly fond of her Rieslings, and it required constant restocking to keep this portion of the cellar properly supplied during her life.

An open russet door leads west.

A closed blue door leads east.

A closed green door leads north.
You go north
With all the doors that lead out of this area, and the heavy pillars that support the roofbeams, there is little room for anything to be stored at all. The absence of racks has not prevented a heavy layer of dust from gathering here too, however.

A closed peacock door leads east.

An open green door leads north.

An open green door leads south.

A closed red door leads west.
You go north
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

An open russet door leads east.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

An open green door leads south.

A closed russet door leads southwest.
Go east
This area is devoted to wines for second-class guests, which the Count reserved for the servants, visits from the curate, or hinting away a houseguest who had overstayed his welcome. "It seems that we are down to the Sangue de Toro," he would say, smoothing his vest with one delicate hand and looking regretful as he decanted a ruddy stream into the goblet of some unfortunate.

On particularly bad occasions he would order the steward to shake the bottle in advance.

The ransackers of the cellar seem not to have reached this room, however: many of the bottles sit intact on their shelves (if anyone cared to sample them).

A closed white door leads south; it looks oddly streaked.

An open russet door leads west.

In one corner is a massive wine barrel.
You look at the barrel
A large barrel rolled into the corner.
You open it
You open the wine barrel, revealing a navy bundle.
You take the bundle
(putting the Andouillettes Recipe into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You examine it
A sort of bundle or package of cloth wrapped around something.
You open south
(the white door leading south)
You open the white door leading south. It swings more lightly than most of the doors hereabouts.
You open the bundle
You open up the cloth bundle, which turns out in fact to be a fine cloak, wrapped tightly around some documents. (A shame to risk such a good cloak, you reflect; the barrel is probably proof against damp, but there's always the chance of something getting inside. But perhaps whoever wrapped it up expected to be back soon.)

In your hunger, you hallucinate little grey-pink mushrooms.
You look at the documents
A sheaf of documents, written over in the Count's handwriting, and bound together with a wrapping of thick oilskin.
You read them
The documents appear to be records of some of the Count's work: letters from highly-ranked members of the king's council; charts of family lines, with the relationships of blood marked in black and the human links marked in red, indicating members of rival families and dynasties held hostage to each other by magic.

Several names leap out of the charts at you. D'Envers, the Count's several-times-distant cousin (and the source of your current distress). D'Envers' mother, recently deceased, formerly hostage-linked to the Countess... several other hostages, recently dead (but, you thought, for natural causes).

But you know too little of the Count's business to guess what this would mean, except perhaps that the careful arrangements have begun to come unstuck lately. Even a local outbreak of plague could do that, if it killed too many of the wrong people at the same time.
You examine the cloak
A fine navy cloak for a woman, lined with swansdown.
Go west
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

An open russet door leads east.

A closed russet door leads southwest.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

An open green door leads south.
Go south
With all the doors that lead out of this area, and the heavy pillars that support the roofbeams, there is little room for anything to be stored at all. The absence of racks has not prevented a heavy layer of dust from gathering here too, however.

An open green door leads north.

A closed red door leads west.

A closed peacock door leads east.

An open green door leads south.
You go to the south
Little remains -- the countess was exceedingly fond of her Rieslings, and it required constant restocking to keep this portion of the cellar properly supplied during her life.

An open green door leads north.

An open russet door leads west.

A closed blue door leads east.
Go west
Almost all gone now, though the labels still adhere to the racks, indicating where a '67 rested, or an '82, waiting to be taken up to the dining room.

An open russet door leads east.

A closed grey-blue door leads north.

A grey-blue trap door stands open in the middle of the room.
Go north
(first opening the grey-blue door leading north)
You open the grey-blue door leading north.

The grey-blue door leading down shuts.

The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

A closed russet door leads northeast.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.
You look at the Clock
It consists of the face, a pendulum and pair of weights, and a little door above the face that opens when the hour is struck. It is currently on and ticking. The clock shows the time to be 6:38.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You set Clock to 12
The clock now shows 12:00.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go north
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

The clockwork model universe has stopped; a beam of light from the "sun" at the center, focused through Jupiter, shines in the direction of the shelves, highlighting a spot where The World Is Hollow
used to be.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.
You take the bauble
(putting the plate into the sack to make room)
The celestial bauble slips out of its holder, and the planets go dark.
You put the salt in the red
(first taking the red glass jar)
(putting the rug into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The blue glass jar isn't open.
You put the salt in the red
The red glass jar is closed.
You open red
You open the red glass jar.
You put the salt in red
You put some sea-salt in the red glass jar, exhausting the supply in the blue glass jar. There is still some room remaining in the red glass jar.
Jar
You put the celestial bauble into the blue glass jar.
Jar
A blue glass container with a wide mouth and a stopper.

In the blue glass jar is a celestial bauble.
You close the blue jar
You close the blue glass jar.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a red glass jar (which is open)
some sea-salt (which leaves the red glass jar about half full)
a navy cloak
some documents
a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (which is closed)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
a blue glass jar (which is closed)
a celestial bauble (providing blue light)
a sack (which is open)
a rug
an Andouillettes Recipe
some andouillettes
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a butcher knife
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
a swordstick
six food items:
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
three metal dishes:
a plate
a chocolate leaf
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a cup
a dashing hat (being worn)
You go to the east
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

A closed russet door leads northeast.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.
You go northeast
(first opening the russet door leading northeast)
You open the russet door leading northeast. From the other side of the room comes the distinct sound of another door slamming shut.

Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

A closed russet door leads east.

An open peacock door leads southeast.

An open green door leads south.

An open russet door leads southwest.
Go east
(first opening the russet door leading east)
You open the russet door leading east.

The russet door leading southwest closes.

The ransackers of the cellar seem not to have reached this room, however: many of the bottles sit intact on their shelves (if anyone cared to sample them).

An open white door leads south; it looks oddly streaked.

An open russet door leads west.

In one corner is a massive wine barrel.
Close white
(the white door leading south)
You close the white door leading south. It swings more lightly than most of the doors hereabouts.
Close box
Which do you mean, the dark wooden box or the snuffbox?
Dark wooden
You close the dark wooden box.
You examine the south door
On close examination, you have the impression that the paint on this door has either faded or been washed over with whitewash; you can still see faint streaks of some darker color, but their efficacy would seem to be gone.
Look around
The ransackers of the cellar seem not to have reached this room, however: many of the bottles sit intact on their shelves (if anyone cared to sample them).

An open blue door leads west.

A closed blue door leads south; it looks oddly streaked.

In one corner is a massive wine barrel.
You open the south door
You open the blue door leading south.
Go west
Port, tokay, sherry; amontillado; casks, bottles furred with age and sealed with clots of red wax and ribbon seals.

An open blue door leads east.

A closed blue door leads southwest.

An open blue door leads southeast.

An open black door leads south.
You go south
With all the doors that lead out of this area, and the heavy pillars that support the roofbeams, there is little room for anything to be stored at all. The absence of racks has not prevented a heavy layer of dust from gathering here too, however.

A closed blue door leads east.

An open black door leads north.

An open black door leads south.

A closed black door leads west.
You go south
Little remains -- the countess was exceedingly fond of her Rieslings, and it required constant restocking to keep this portion of the cellar properly supplied during her life.

An open black door leads north.

An open blue door leads east.

A closed blue door leads west.
You open the dark wooden box
You open the dark wooden box, revealing an mirror inset inside the box, a pearl necklace and an old letter.
Go east
Thanks to the insistence of the Count, this portion of the wine cellar was cleared out for the storage of fine cheeses; instead of bottle racks there are shelves for storage.

An open blue door leads west.

There is a tiny hole in the north wall, through which one might view the room beyond.

One corner of the room is occupied by a heavy chest.

A silver key sits here.

You can also see a green glass jar (which is closed) (in which are two food items (a goat cheese and a great deal of olive oil)) here.
Open chest
You open the heavy chest, revealing two food items (a salers and a wedge of brie).
You take all
blue door leading west: That's fixed in place.
chink in wall: That's fixed in place.
heavy chest: That's fixed in place.
silver key: (putting the blue glass jar into the sack to make room) Taken.
green glass jar: (putting the iron key into the sack to make room) Taken.
salers: (putting the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc into the sack to make room)
Taken.
wedge of brie: (putting the documents into the sack to make room) Taken.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity thinly-sliced venison. Or perhaps dark squares of prepared chocolate.
You look at the silver
(the silver key)
A key of silver metal, with a reddish string tied to it.
You examine the salers
An aged, creamy yellowish cheese with an uneven grey-brown rind. It has a sharp and distinctive flavor, though it does not fall under the category of stinky cheeses.
You examine the brie
Oozing and ripe, somehow. You would expect it to be thoroughly ruined by now -- this is not a cheese that should age -- but the Count's powers were diverse, and extended to careful protections of his possessions.
You look at the green
A green glass container with a wide mouth and a stopper.
You read Recipe
Andouillettes Recipe: andouillettes, olive oil, dry white wine,
single yellow onion, sea-salt.
You go west
Little remains -- the countess was exceedingly fond of her Rieslings, and it required constant restocking to keep this portion of the cellar properly supplied during her life.

An open blue door leads east.

A closed russet door leads west.

An open green door leads north.
You open the russet
You open the russet door leading west.
Go west
Almost all gone now, though the labels still adhere to the racks, indicating where a '67 rested, or an '82, waiting to be taken up to the dining room.

An open russet door leads east.

There is a grey-blue trap door closed in the middle of the room, just visible among the dust as a less-dusty area.

An open grey-blue door leads north.
You go north
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

An open grey-blue door leads south.

A closed red door leads east.

A closed russet door leads northeast.

A heavy red door, wreathed in chains and locks, leads north into the vault, where the best wines were kept during your youth.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.
You unlock vault with silver
(the silver key)
That doesn't seem to fit the lock.
You look at the silver
(the silver key)
A key of silver metal, with a reddish string tied to it.
You unlock e with silver
(the silver key)
That doesn't seem to be something you can unlock.
You unlock the red with the silver
Which do you mean, the red door leading east, the red vault door or the red glass jar?
East
(the silver key)
You unlock the red door leading east.
You open east
(the red door leading east)
You open the red door leading east.

The red vault door opens.
Go north
Thick-layered with dust, with a cool ancient air.

The vault door stands invitingly open.

You can also see a pine chest (which is closed) and a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed) here.
You get Chateauneuf
(putting the navy cloak into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You look at it
A grand old bottle, a fine year: you recognize the vintage and know a Duke in Paris who would give his own daughter's hand in marriage in exchange for a gift like this. Worth it? Quite possibly.

In your hunger, you dream of creme caramel, elegantly centered in its pool of sweet liquid and garnished with three-- no, make it four-- fresh raspberries. Or perhaps fresh white cheese, still in the soft balls.
Open chest
You open the pine chest, revealing four pieces of silverware (a silver-plated corkscrew, a fork, a spoon and a table knife).
You take all from the chest
silver-plated corkscrew: (putting the silver key into the sack to make room)
Removed.
fork: (putting the green glass jar into the sack to make room) Removed.
spoon: (putting the salers into the sack to make room)
Removed.
table knife: (putting the wedge of brie into the sack to make room) Removed.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
four pieces of silverware:
a table knife
a spoon
a fork
a silver-plated corkscrew
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
a red glass jar (which is open)
some sea-salt (which leaves the red glass jar about half full)
a sack (which is open)
a green glass jar (which is closed)
two food items:
a goat cheese
a great deal of olive oil (which leaves some room in the green
glass jar)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is closed)
a celestial bauble (providing blue light)
a rug
an Andouillettes Recipe
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a butcher knife
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
a swordstick
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
three metal dishes:
a plate
a chocolate leaf
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a cup
nine food items:
a wedge of brie
a salers
some andouillettes
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a single yellow onion
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading east)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
two bottles of wine:
a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (which is closed)
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dashing hat (being worn)
You put the sword in the swordstick
(first taking the sword)
(putting the bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape into the sack to make room) Taken.

You put the sword into the swordstick.
You link swordstick to the mead
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.
You link the sword to the cork
(first unlinking the sword)
You succeed in unlinking the sword from the butcher knife.
Bending your will, you form the link between the sword and the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
You take the sword
You draw the sword from its sheath.

The bottle of Sauvignon Blanc gives up its cork at this point.
Link Blanc to Pape
(first unlinking the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc)
You succeed in unlinking the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the sword. You wouldn't want to jeopardize such a valuable commodity, surely.

to the Pope, comes the peppery red Chateauneuf du Pape..���"
Go south
The air is cool here, protected by deep walls of stone. Heavy beams overhead support the weight of the upper floors. A thick dust overlays everything.

The vault door stands invitingly open.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the west.

A closed russet door leads northeast.

An open red door leads east.

An open grey-blue door leads south.
Go west
An awkward wedge of space between the foundations of the main house and the walls of the new-built wine cellar, east. The staircase does not leave much room to stand in; it is straight and carefully planed lest anyone trip with a priceless bottle of wine.

The wine-cellar door -- sturdy wood in yellowish brass panels -- stands open to the east.

An ordinary wooden door opens west into the root cellar.
Open contraption
That's already open.
You put the tripe in contraption
(first taking the andouillettes)
Taken.

You put the andouillettes into the delicate contraption.
You examine the onion
The pale yellow skin is still tight and glossy.
You put the onion in the contraption
You frown dubiously at the onion with its skin still on. It might not be good to put it in unpeeled.
You peel onion
You peel the onion of its skin.
You eat the onion
Oh, no, no. You don't just cram yourself with whatever pathetic foodstuff lies at hand -- no one with any self-respect lives that way. What you want is a meal, prepared with some sensitivity and forethought.
You put onion in the contraption
You put the peeled onion into the delicate contraption.
You put the salt in the contraption
You put some sea-salt in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the red glass jar. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption.
You open green
Opening a container of olive oil while it is in the sack seems like an invitation to disaster.
You take the green
(putting the red glass jar into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You open green
You open the green glass jar.
You open it
That's already open.
You put the oil in the contraption
You put some olive oil in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the green glass jar. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption. The olive oil mixes with what was already there.
You examine Recipe
Which do you mean, the Chocolate Recipe or the Andouillettes Recipe?
You take Recipe from the spindle
(putting the silver-plated corkscrew into the sack to make room)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.

In your hunger, you hallucinate onion soup, with its crust of baked cheese. Or perhaps purple-black Hellene olives.
You pull the sword
(putting the fork into the sack to make room)
You draw the sword from its sheath.
You put Andouillettes Recipe on the spindle
The bottle of Sauvignon Blanc gives up its cork at this point.

(first taking the Andouillettes Recipe)
(putting the spoon into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
You put Blanc in the contraption
(first taking the delicate contraption)
It is both too large and too delicate to remove.

(taking the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc)
(putting the table knife into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put some Sauvignon Blanc in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the blue bottle. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption. The Sauvignon Blanc mixes with what was already there.
Close contraptio
You close the delicate contraption.
You turn it on
The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. An irritable mechanical voice shouts from within, "I shall be requiring the plate on which to put this item!"
You put the plate in the contraption
(first taking the plate)
(putting the onion skin into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put the plate into the delicate contraption.
You turn it on
The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. From inside the contraption comes a sound of chopping, and then a hot sizzle. The unmistakeable smell of frying onions rises to greet you from inside the contraption's box.

A moment later, there is some additional sloshing, and slowly the smell becomes more complex, redolent of wine and meat. There is a puff of steam around the edges of the lid, and then the mechanism's parts come discreetly to rest.
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing a plate, on top of which are two food items (some cooked andouillettes and a chocolate leaf).
You examine andouillettes
Which do you mean, the cooked andouillettes or the Andouillettes Recipe?
Cooked
Marvellous: the sausage is sliced and cooked perfectly in wine and olive oil, seasoned with salt, and accompanied by savory fried onions. The pieces of sausage are arranged loosely into a leaf shape, which is perhaps as much as one should expect.
You eat them
(first taking the cooked andouillettes)
You really ought to eat these in the appropriate surroundings.
You go north
A small, workmanlike room with a floor of white stones. The principal features of the room are a counter, with a large inset washbasin also made of stone, and a tall wooden cupboard.

In your hunger, you dream of poached turbot on a platter. Or perhaps creme caramel.
You link the cork to Tea
Bending your will, you form the link between the cork and the Tea Recipe.
Reverse link cork to Tea
Bending your will and all your attention, you manage to make a reverse-link between the cork and the Tea Recipe, feeling their properties begin to merge together.

The Tea Recipe bobs to the surface of the water.
You take Tea
(putting the green glass jar into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You go south
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which is a plate (on which is a chocolate leaf)).
You put Chocolate in green
You put the Chocolate Recipe into the green glass jar.
You put the leaf in the green
(first taking the bay leaf)
(putting the Chocolate Recipe into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put the bay leaf into the green glass jar.
Inventory
You are carrying:
some cooked andouillettes
a blue bottle
a sword
a cork
a sack (which is open)
a green glass jar (which is open)
a goat cheese
four pieces of silverware:
a table knife
a spoon
a fork
a silver-plated corkscrew
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is closed)
a celestial bauble (providing blue light)
a rug
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a butcher knife
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a white handkerchief
a swordstick
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
The Lavori d'Aracne
On Vegetable Dyes
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
a cup
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
eight food items:
an onion skin
a wedge of brie
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
two bottles of wine:
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dashing hat (being worn)
two recipe cylinders:
a Tea Recipe
a Chocolate Recipe
You go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (in which is a plate (on which is a chocolate leaf)).
You take the plate
(putting the Chocolate Recipe into the sack to make room)
Taken.
Chocolate
(putting the Tea Recipe into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You put the chocolate leaf in the jar
Which do you mean, the green glass jar, the red glass jar or the blue glass jar?
Green
You put the chocolate leaf into the green glass jar.
You examine the chocolate leaf
A dark chocolate confection, formed into the shape of a leaf.
You link the chocolate leaf to the roses
(the roses)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.

In your hunger, you hallucinate a heavy Christmas-time cake with candied fruit and smothered in brandy, such as Englishmen sometimes bring with them to Paris. And you have always considered them an abomination heretofore.
You open blue
Which do you mean, a blue bottle or the blue glass jar?
Bottle
(the bottle of mead)
Opening a container of mead while it is in the sack seems like an invitation to disaster.
You take bauble
(putting the cork into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You put it in the green
You put the celestial bauble into the green glass jar.
You link the chocolate leaf to the roses
(the roses)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.
Go upwards
Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving rooms.

North is the old conservatory.

In your hunger, you hallucinate the small, bitter oranges of Jerusalem.
You look at the roses
Ivory and powder-blue, with a tracery of blush roses.
You take the gilt
(the gilt-wood mirror)
Too heavy for you to remove.
You examine the floorboards
Long slender boards of fine wood.
You read Lavori
(first taking The Lavori d'Aracne)

Taken.

On the subject of mirrors: Unusual and costly mirrors of special
power exist which enhance the workings of the lavori d'Aracne; they may be recognized by their failure to reflect in the ordinary way. Some make it easier to form a link through the mirror than through open air, allowing the magician to reverse-link items that are otherwise too dissimilar to use. Likewise, such a mirror...

But then, unfortunately, it breaks off, the page apparently having been chewed out and carried away by something or other.
You drop the leaf
(the chocolate leaf)
Dropped.
You go downward
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

Just on the quarter-hour the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings a brief warbling tune, then withdraws into its little door.
Go east
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

A tangle of climbing roses covers almost completely the wall and door of a shed to the southeast.

You can also see a dark wooden box (in which are an mirror inset inside the box (providing light), a pearl necklace and an old letter) here.
You take dark wooden box
Taken.

In your hunger, you dream of creme caramel, elegantly centered in its pool of sweet liquid and garnished with three-- no, make it four-- fresh raspberries. Or perhaps thinly-sliced venison, cold from the roast.
You search the inset mirror
In the mirror you see reflected a chocolate leaf and a desk. Around the edges you can make out other indications of Marie's Chamber.
You link the chocolate leaf to the roses
(the roses)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.
Reverse link chocolate leaf to roses
(the roses)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.

Reverse links are even pickier than regular links that way.
Sf5
Ok.
You read Dyes
(first taking On Vegetable Dyes)

(putting the sword into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You flip through the pages, becoming transfixed by a discussion of how the Celts, supposedly, were wont to dye clothing in a decoction of powdered lichen and stale piss, brewed together for three weeks and then strained.

But beside this pleasant concoction there are references to others, such as onion skin boiled in water to produce a pleasant yellow.
You continue
You flip through the pages, becoming transfixed by a discussion of how the Celts, supposedly, were wont to dye clothing in a decoction of powdered lichen and stale piss, brewed together for three weeks and then strained.

But beside this pleasant concoction there are references to others, such as onion skin boiled in water to produce a pleasant yellow.
You fill the teapot with the water from well
(first taking the hinge-lidded teapot)
(putting the blue bottle into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put some water in the hinge-lidded teapot. This fills the hinge-lidded teapot to the brim.
You take the onion skin
(putting the cooked andouillettes into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You take the cup
(putting the plate into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You put Tea on the spindle
(first taking the Tea Recipe)
(putting The Lavori d'Aracne into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The spindle is shaped to hold exactly one cylinder at a time.
You take Andouillettes from the spindle
(putting the dark wooden box into the sack to make room)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.
You put Tea on the spindle
The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
You look at the dial
A dial which can be rotated to show one word at a time, labeled 'SHAPE'. Currently the word showing is LEAF.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity creme caramel, elegantly centered in its pool of sweet liquid and garnished with three-- no, make it four-- fresh raspberries. Or perhaps thinly-sliced venison, cold from the roast.
You turn the dial
You turn the dial gently with one finger, and it clicks around to display the setting ROSE.
You turn the dial
You turn the dial gently with one finger, and it clicks around to display the setting FISH.
You continue
You turn the dial gently with one finger, and it clicks around to display the setting SHOE.
Continue
You turn the dial gently with one finger, and it clicks around to display the setting HEART.
Continue
You turn the dial gently with one finger, and it clicks around to display the setting NONE.
You put Chocolate on the spindle
(the Chocolate Recipe on the spindle)
(first taking the Chocolate Recipe)
(putting On Vegetable Dyes into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
Open contraption
That's already open.
You put Chocolate in the contraption
(the Chocolate Recipe in the delicate contraption)
(first taking the Chocolate Recipe)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.

The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
Go southwest
You can go only east, west or down.
Go west
Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting light from the celestial bauble over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.

You can also see a chocolate leaf here.
Go down
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

Exactly on the hour, the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings 3 times, then withdraws into its little door.
You put Chocolate in the contraption
(the chocolate leaf in the delicate contraption)
You put the chocolate leaf into the delicate contraption.
You put the plate in the contraption
(first taking the plate)
Taken.

You put the plate into the delicate contraption.
You turn on the contraption
There is a regretful clicking noise from the vicinity of the lid-catch. Just as you think you are going to have to close it yourself, a gloved mechanical hand reaches up and slams the contraption shut from the inside.

The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. There is a faint grumbling from inside the machine, and the sounds of rearrangement...
Open contraption
You open the contraption, revealing a plate, on top of which is a chocolate rose.
You take the rose
(putting the onion skin into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You link the roses to the chocolate rose
(the roses to the chocolate rose)
Bending your will, you form the link between the roses and the chocolate rose.
You cut the chocolate rose with the knife
Which do you mean, the table knife or the butcher knife?
Butcher
(first taking the butcher knife)
(putting the cup into the sack to make room)
The chocolate rose cuts partway through, then splits of its own accord in rough surfaces, becoming a pile of small bits.

The roses split into a pile of small bits.
You look at the roses
Ivory and powder-blue, with a tracery of blush roses.
You examine the shed
Built out of rough stones, not hewn into rectangular shape like those of the main house, and framed in weathered wood.

In your hunger, you hallucinate dark squares of prepared chocolate.
You enter the shed
Disused for quite a long time, evidently. There is dirt in the corners, and some evidence of inhabitation by rodents or perhaps even a larger animal, now and then. Some rust stains on the walls indicate where tools used to hang, but no longer do.

A rope ladder lies in a heap on the floor.
You examine it
Made of hefty rope and still apparently sound, with rungs made of wood. At the top on each side is a hook, allowing it to be put on something (rather than tied).
You examine the rust
Streaks on the wall, nothing more. The phantom shapes suggest the former presence of a shovel, hoe, etc. Why they've been removed is anyone's guess, but it's quite clear that much of the landscape around the house has been let go, the kitchen garden remaining tended longer than everything else.
You examine the dirt
Standard garden-variety dirt.
You eat the dirt
(first taking the dirt)
Nothing to be gained by that, and you don't relish the idea much.
Go outside
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.
Swim
It would be a cold and unwelcoming swim.
You go inside
Your options are west into the kitchen or southeast into the shed.
You put Tea in the contraption
The spindle is shaped to hold exactly one cylinder at a time.
You take Chocolate Recipe
(putting the Andouillettes Recipe into the sack to make room)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.
You put the cup in the contraption
(first taking the cup)
Taken.

You put the cup into the delicate contraption.

In your hunger, you dream of an omelette of herbs and chives.
You put the water in the contraption
You put some water in the delicate contraption, exhausting the supply in the hinge-lidded teapot. There is still some room remaining in the delicate contraption.
You put the onion skin in the contraption
(first taking the onion skin)
Taken.

You put the onion skin into the delicate contraption.
You turn on the contraption
The machine's gears spin into action; a series of fine flanges, like the keys of a music box, move into position against the surface of the cylinder, which rotates steadily. There is a bubbling, boiling noise from within the contraption.
You open it
You open the contraption, revealing a cup, inside which is some onion dye.
You put the handkerchief in the dye
Which do you mean, the onion dye in the cup or On Vegetable
Dyes?
Onion
(first taking the white handkerchief)
(putting the hinge-lidded teapot into the sack to make room)
You examine the hanky
A square of good linen; rather nice, really. It is currently colored yellow.
You cut the cement with the knife
(the butcher knife)
It's just an ordinary knife, not diamond-edged.
You examine the stone
Just a chunk of roughly squared stone from one of the nearby fields. Possibly once it had some value as masonry, but not any more.

In your hunger, you dream of poached turbot on a platter.
You take Recipe
(the Tea Recipe)
(putting the plate into the sack to make room)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.
You put Chocolate in the contraption
The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
You put Chocolate in the contraption
(first taking the Chocolate Recipe)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.

The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a Tea Recipe
a yellow handkerchief (sodden)
a cup
not very much onion dye (which leaves some room in the cup)
a rope ladder
a butcher knife
a sack (which is open)
two metal dishes:
a plate
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
an Andouillettes Recipe
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a cork
a green glass jar (which is open)
a celestial bauble (providing green light)
a goat cheese
four pieces of silverware:
a table knife
a spoon
a fork
a silver-plated corkscrew
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is open but empty)
a rug
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a swordstick
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
four books:
On Vegetable Dyes
The Lavori d'Aracne
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
eight food items:
some cooked andouillettes
a wedge of brie
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
three bottles of wine:
a blue bottle
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dashing hat (being worn)
You examine plate
A plate, glossed in white and decorated with the crest of the family, just as though it belonged to the family china pattern.
Describe the surroundings
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables are a loaf of stale bread and a delicate contraption (which is empty).
Go west
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.
You link handkerchief to the hangings
Bending your will, you form the link between the yellow handkerchief and the yellow hangings.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
Burn handkerchief
You don't have a candle or any flint.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
Tie handkerchief
You tie the handkerchief into a tight little knot.

The yellow hangings writhe and twist, but the attempt to tie themselves into an enormous knot goes badly. They tear along the middle with a tremendous unnatural ripping noise, and fall from the hooks that held them in place, leaving only a heap of brocade on the floor. The wall itself is bared, and the door in the wall.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the heap
Huddled and ripped on the ground.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You put the rug under the door
(first taking the rug)
The gothic door is flush against the stone threshhold, so much so that it is difficult even to see light between the two.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You examine the door
A wooden, pointed door in a very old style; this part of the building dates to a previous version of the house, from which only the chapel and a few other rooms survive.

There is a conspicuous keyhole plate in the door.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the keyhole
A keyhole in a fitted brass plate. There is an ornate key in the keyhole, pushed in from the other side.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the ornate key
It's not exactly easy to get a good look.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the plate
Which do you mean, the keyhole or the painted metal plate?
You link the ornate key to the silver key
The keys resist linking, almost as though they were made to do so.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a rug
a Tea Recipe
a yellow handkerchief (tied in a sopping knot)
a cup
not very much onion dye (which leaves some room in the cup)
a rope ladder
a butcher knife
a sack (which is open)
two metal dishes:
a plate
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open but empty)
an Andouillettes Recipe
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a cork
a green glass jar (which is open)
a celestial bauble (providing green light)
a goat cheese
four pieces of silverware:
a table knife
a spoon
a fork
a silver-plated corkscrew
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is open but empty)
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a stone block
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a swordstick
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
four books:
On Vegetable Dyes
The Lavori d'Aracne
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
eight food items:
some cooked andouillettes
a wedge of brie
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
three bottles of wine:
a blue bottle
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
a bottle of mead (which is closed)
a dashing hat (being worn)

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.

In your hunger, you dream of dark squares of prepared chocolate.
You link the keyhole to the corkscrew
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they seem as though they will never go together.

Just on the quarter-hour the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings a brief warbling tune, then withdraws into its little door.
You look at the pin
Decorated with fine-chip diamonds, and formed into the shape of a complicated bow of several strands, for a lady's use. The clasp is currently open.

The cuckoo clock clicks closed.
You link the pin to the butcher knife
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the mead
Aside from the contents, an entirely ordinary bottle. The cork is still wedged firmly in place.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You read the Guide
(first taking Guide to Assorted Wines)

(putting the butcher knife into the sack to make room)
Taken.

...some dry wine such as Sauvignon Blanc...

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You read the Guide
... from the region of Avignon, in the territories that belonged
to the Pope, comes the peppery red Chateauneuf du Pape...

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You read the Guide
...mead, a wine made of honey and very sweet...

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You open the mead
Opening a container of mead while it is in the sack seems like an invitation to disaster.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You take the mead
(putting the rope ladder into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You open the mead
(first taking the corkscrew)
(putting the yellow handkerchief into the sack to make room)
Taken.

Delicately you extract the cork and then remove it from the corkscrew.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You examine the Clock
It consists of the face, a pendulum and pair of weights, and a little door above the face that opens when the hour is struck. It is currently on and ticking. The clock shows the time to be 12:00.

In the mechanical clock is a cuckoo.

The cuckoo clock clicks closed.
You go to the north
This was the countess' favorite room, and it is more richly decorated than any other in the house, betraying her taste for the brightly-colored and the jewel-like. The count brought her some things from his travels, and made others for her. Most of the contents seem to be gone -- the chairs and sofas, and the wall hangings -- but some bits remain.

Against one wall is a glass case full of rare and valuable clockwork figures.
You look at the case
The case is specially made of glass and wood. Inscribed into the surface of the glass with a fine cutting tool are the words: "CAREFUL! DO NOT BREAK!"

Inside are mechanical dancers and a clockwork bee.
You look at the bee
A life-sized golden bee, its wings made of planed gems. It is, unfortunately, equipped with an ingenious equivalent of a sting -- a tail endowed with blades that will cut into any sensitive thing it settles on. And these have been tipped with a vicious poison.
You open the book
(Guide to Assorted Wines)
That's not something you can open.
You pour mead in Hollow
(first taking The World Is Hollow)
(putting the Tea Recipe into the sack to make room)
Taken.

the pages.
You look at the cup
A cup, glossed in white and decorated with the crest of the family, just as though it belonged to the family china pattern.

In the cup is not very much onion dye.
Empty cup
onion dye: (putting the rug into the sack to make room)
You pour the onion dye out onto the ground.
You pour the mead in the cup
You put some mead in the cup. This fills the cup to the brim.
Open case
That's not something you can open.

In your hunger, you hallucinate poached turbot on a platter and hedged around with lightly seared summer vegetables.
You examine the cup
A cup, glossed in white and decorated with the crest of the family, just as though it belonged to the family china pattern.

In the cup is some mead.

In your hunger, you dream of onion soup.
Empty teapot
The hinge-lidded teapot is empty already.
You pour the cup into the teapot
(first taking the hinge-lidded teapot)
(putting Guide to Assorted Wines into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put some mead in the hinge-lidded teapot, exhausting the supply in the cup. This fills the hinge-lidded teapot to the brim.
Break glass
(the glass case)
With your bare hands? That could be uncomfortable.
You break the glass with the stone
(the glass case with the stone block)
(first taking the stone block)
(putting the cup into the sack to make room)
The stone block smacks the glass case. The glass case breaks, spilling the clockwork bee and the mechanical human dancers.

The clockwork bee buzzes faintly, spreading its jeweled wings.
You wear the cloak
(first taking the navy cloak)
(putting the silver-plated corkscrew into the sack to make room)
You put on the navy cloak.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
You throw the cloak at the bee
(first taking the navy cloak)
(putting the silver-plated corkscrew into the sack to make room)
You'd have to practice a long time before you had any hope of hitting a target that size.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
You open the mead
(first taking the corkscrew)
(putting the yellow handkerchief into the sack to make room)
Taken.

Delicately you extract the cork and then remove it from the corkscrew.
You pour the mead in the teapot
(first taking the hinge-lidded teapot)
(putting the Tea Recipe into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You put some mead in the hinge-lidded teapot. This fills the hinge-lidded teapot to the brim.
You drop teapot
Dropped.

In your hunger, you hallucinate curls of toasted bread, dripping with butter.
You look at the teapot
A hinge-lidded teapot, glossed in white and decorated with the crest of the family, just as though it belonged to the family china pattern. The lid is attached with a hinge, and there is a long and delicate spout.

In the hinge-lidded teapot is some mead.
You break the glass with the stone
(the glass case with the stone block)
(first taking the stone block)
(putting the rug into the sack to make room)
The stone block smacks the glass case. The glass case cracks dramatically, spilling the clockwork bee and the mechanical human dancers.

The clockwork bee buzzes faintly, spreading its jeweled wings.
Go south
(treading gingerly around the glass bits)

A long empty room with shined wooden floors, perfect for sliding in stocking-feet. West is the top of the staircase, and rooms open to the north and east.

The door east is closed.
Go north
This was the countess' favorite room, and it is more richly decorated than any other in the house, betraying her taste for the brightly-colored and the jewel-like. The count brought her some things from his travels, and made others for her. Most of the contents seem to be gone -- the chairs and sofas, and the wall hangings -- but some bits remain.

You can see some glass shards, some mechanical human dancers and a hinge-lidded teapot (in which are a clockwork bee and some mead) here.

The bee buzzes around the mead.
You take the dancers
(putting Guide to Assorted Wines into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You link the dancers to the letter
Bending your will, you form the link between the mechanical human dancers and the old letter.
Unlink dancers
You succeed in unlinking the mechanical human dancers from the old letter.
You take the teapot
(putting the silver-plated corkscrew into the sack to make room) Taken.
You open it
You open the hinge-lidded teapot, revealing a clockwork bee and some mead.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
Go downwards
In your hunger, you hallucinate frosted petits-four. Or perhaps the hearts of artichokes, pickled and speared.

Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

An old gothic door framed in stone leads west. The wooden door is currently closed.

A sad heap of used yellow brocade huddles on the floor here.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You link the dancers to the Clock
(first unlinking the mechanical clock)
You succeed in unlinking the mechanical clock from the model universe. You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go to the north
Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.

A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner.

On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.
Link dancers to universe
The whole of the model has been associated as one object for the purposes of linking; you cannot link parts of it alone.
Link model to dancers
You find it too difficult to forge a link to the model universe, for some reason.
You take bauble
(putting the cork into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You put it in model
The celestial bauble clicks neatly into position, shining over all the surrounding planets just as the sun ought. The beam of light shines through the lens of Jupiter again, just as it did before.
You take Recipe from the spindle
(putting the sword into the sack to make room)
It takes a bit of wiggling to get the cylinder to come free, but you extricate it without too much difficulty.
You put Chocolate on the spindle
(the Chocolate Recipe on the spindle)
(first taking the Chocolate Recipe)
(putting the blue bottle into the sack to make room)
Taken.

The cylinder slips into place with a satisfying click, as though some mechanism has engaged.
You go southwest
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

On the half-hour the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings a brief warbling tune, then withdraws into its little door.
You take the leaf
(the chocolate leaf)
Taken.
You descend
In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity flaking puff pastry, wrapped around chicken and a white-wine mushroom sauce.

Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You put the chocolate leaf in the contraption
You put the chocolate leaf into the delicate contraption.
You put the plate in the contraption
(first opening the delicate contraption)
You open the contraption, revealing a chocolate leaf.
You put the plate into the delicate contraption.
You link the chocolate rose to the roses
(the roses)
Bending your will, you form the link between the chocolate rose and the roses.
You eat the rose
After the chocolate rose has been on the ground, you're certainly going to leave it uneaten.
Clean rose
(the roses)
You achieve nothing by this.

In your hunger, you dream of the small, bitter oranges of Jerusalem.
You drop andouillettes
Which do you mean, the Andouillettes Recipe or the cooked andouillettes?
Cooked
Dropped.
You eat cooked Andouillettes
(first taking the cooked andouillettes)
After the cooked andouillettes have been on the ground, you're certainly going to leave them uneaten.
Cooked
(first taking the cooked andouillettes)
Taken.

You put the cooked andouillettes on the plate.
You go to the west
You can go only south or east.
Go east
A grand room, for dining in style. The plastered ceiling is several times your height. The air now is cool and deep, the sunlight glancing through the windows and scattering from the chandelier, putting points of light at your feet, over the table, across the painted wallpaper and the handsome wood paneling.

Woodworked columns frame the exits west and southwest.

Heavy double doors lead east.
You go east
(first opening the double doors)
You open the double doors.

The hinge-lidded teapot opens.

A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors give west onto the main house.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
Unlink teapot
You succeed in unlinking the hinge-lidded teapot from the double doors.
Go east
(first opening the double doors)
You open the double doors.

A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors give west onto the main house.
You link the brick to the bread
(first unlinking the brick)
You succeed in unlinking the brick from the stone block.
Bending your will, you form the link between the brick and the loaf of stale bread.
You break bread
Attempts to break it fail; truly this is the loaf of adamant. You'd have to soften it up somehow first.
You go downwards
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables is a delicate contraption (which is empty).

In your hunger, you dream of dark squares of prepared chocolate.
You go east
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.
You put the bread in well
You put the loaf of stale bread into the well.
The loaf of stale bread sinks into oblivion.
Go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables is a delicate contraption (which is empty).
Wet bread
What do you want to wet the loaf of stale bread with?
Water
You consume some of the water in moistening the loaf of stale bread.
You look at the bread
A sopping wet and crumbly rectangular loaf of bread. The fact that it went uneaten is explained by the fact that one face is burnt black -- someone left it in the oven too long, evidently.
Go west
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables is a delicate contraption (which is empty).
You break the bread
The loaf of stale bread breaks into bready-chunks, crumbling to nothing.

The brick cracks into pieces and falls out of its place. The bag on a string is revealed in the space behind the former brick.
You look at your surroundings
Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.

In the fireplace are some bits of shattered brick.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a bag on a string (which is closed)
some mechanical human dancers
a stone block
a bottle of mead
some mead (which leaves some room in the bottle of mead)
a sack (which is open)
two corks
a rug
a yellow handkerchief (tied in a sopping knot)
a rope ladder
a butcher knife
a plate
some cooked andouillettes
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
an old letter
a sword
a green glass jar (which is open)
a goat cheese
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is open but empty)
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a swordstick
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
seven food items:
a wedge of brie
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
two bottles of wine:
a blue bottle
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
four pieces of silverware:
a silver-plated corkscrew
a table knife
a spoon
a fork
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
On Vegetable Dyes
The Lavori d'Aracne
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
two recipe cylinders:
a Tea Recipe
an Andouillettes Recipe
a dashing hat (being worn)
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is closed)
a cup
not very much onion dye (which leaves some room in the cup)
You look at the bag
A little linen bag on a grimy drawstring, able to be worn on the wrist or neck and protect one's valuables.
You open it
You open the bag on a string, revealing some silver coins.
You take the coins
(putting the hinge-lidded teapot into the sack to make room)
Taken.
Bite coins
You'd chip a tooth.
You look at the brick
Fragments of brick, some with surfaces darkened by smoke, the rest raw and red.

In your hunger, you hallucinate onion soup, with its crust of baked cheese. Or perhaps a heavy Christmas-time cake with candied fruit and smothered in brandy, such as Englishmen sometimes bring with them to Paris. And you have always considered them an abomination heretofore.
You link the coins to the dancers
It is illegal to link minted coinage, and quite difficult to do anyway.
You link the corkscrew to the dancers
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.
You examine the knife
Which do you mean, the butcher knife or the table knife?
Butcher
An ordinary kitchen knife, perhaps a foot long.
You link the sword to the dancers
(first unlinking the sword)
You succeed in unlinking the sword from the blue bottle.
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.
You look at the tin
A thin metal container, somewhat old.
You link the dancers to yourself
Linking yourself is generally considered a very bad idea.
You examine the brie
Oozing and ripe, somehow. You would expect it to be thoroughly ruined by now -- this is not a cheese that should age -- but the Count's powers were diverse, and extended to careful protections of his possessions.
You remember the dancers
The mechanical human dancers raise no special memories for you.

In your hunger, you hallucinate flaking puff pastry, wrapped around chicken.
You eat the Cheese
Which do you mean, the goat cheese, the wedge of brie or the salers?
Goat
(first taking the goat cheese)
(putting the stone block into the sack to make room)
Cheese is for after the rest of the meal.
You eat letter
(first taking the old letter)
(putting the mechanical human dancers into the sack to make room) That's plainly inedible.
You examine the wooden box
A dark wooden box that smells faintly exotic.

In the dark wooden box are an mirror inset inside the box and a pearl necklace.
You look at snuff box
A little pastel-colored metal box in which you keep your supply of snuff.

In the snuffbox is a quantity of snuff.
Go downwards
A long, cross-beamed room, originally washed with white, though smoke has tinged the walls above the massive fireplace in which roasts are prepared. In addition, there are thick high tables that run the length of the room.

To the east is the kitchen garden through which you entered; west is the corridor that connects with the main house. To the north there is the little scullery, and upstairs is the attic where the servants sleep.

On the kitchen tables is a delicate contraption (which is empty).
You go southwest
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

An old gothic door framed in stone leads west. The wooden door is currently closed.

A sad heap of used yellow brocade huddles on the floor here.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You break the mirror with the stone
(the gilt-wood mirror with the stone block)
(first taking the stone block)
(putting the bag on a string into the sack to make room)
The stone block strikes the gilt-wood mirror. The gilt-wood mirror breaks.

The mirror inset inside the box breaks dramatically.
You break the mirror with the stone
(the gilt-wood mirror with the stone block)
(first taking the stone block)
(putting the bag on a string into the sack to make room)
The stone block strikes the gilt-wood mirror, which shatters dramatically.
You examine mirror
A shining panel that reflects whatever is inside the box.
You look at your surroundings
Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.

You can also see some glass shards here.

In your hunger, you imagine in great clarity a heavy Christmas-time cake with candied fruit. Or perhaps thinly-sliced venison, cold from the roast.
You examine shards
Pieces of broken glass, thoroughly shattered and useless.
You look at the east
(the tall door)
A single tall door with gilt trim marking out its panels. It is dense with the links the Count laid on it -- to lock by itself when closed, to submit to no links by anyone else. When you lived here, it responded to a touch of your hand, though there was also a key used by the servants.
You touch east
(the tall door)
Apparently it has forgotten you.
Slide
What do you want to slide?
You touch the door
Apparently it has forgotten you.
You remember the door
...

Through here lies the Count's study, and the room that used to belong to you when you were a child.

...

In your hunger, you hallucinate creme caramel. Or perhaps curls of toasted bread, dripping with butter.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
an old letter
a goat cheese
some silver coins
a bag on a string (which is open but empty)
a bottle of mead
some mead (which leaves some room in the bottle of mead)
a sack (which is open)
some mechanical human dancers
a stone block
two corks
a rug
a yellow handkerchief (tied in a sopping knot)
a rope ladder
a butcher knife
a dark wooden box (which is open)
an mirror inset inside the box (reflecting white light from the sunlight)
a pearl necklace
a sword
a green glass jar (which is open but empty)
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is open but empty)
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a swordstick
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
seven food items:
a wedge of brie
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
two bottles of wine:
a blue bottle
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
four pieces of silverware:
a silver-plated corkscrew
a table knife
a spoon
a fork
four books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
On Vegetable Dyes
The Lavori d'Aracne
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
two recipe cylinders:
a Tea Recipe
an Andouillettes Recipe
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is closed)
a plate
some cooked andouillettes
a dashing hat (being worn)
a cup
not very much onion dye (which leaves some room in the cup)
You examine the cloak
A fine navy cloak for a woman, lined with swansdown.
You look at the fork
A silver fork with the crest of the family stamped on the handle.
You link the dancers to the iron key
(first unlinking the mechanical human dancers)
You succeed in unlinking the mechanical human dancers from the old letter.
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.
You go north
This was the countess' favorite room, and it is more richly decorated than any other in the house, betraying her taste for the brightly-colored and the jewel-like. The count brought her some things from his travels, and made others for her. Most of the contents seem to be gone -- the chairs and sofas, and the wall hangings -- but some bits remain.

You can see some glass shards here.
Close east
That's not something you can close.

In your hunger, you dream of fresh white cheese, still in the soft balls. Or perhaps a heavy Christmas-time cake with candied fruit and smothered in brandy, such as Englishmen sometimes bring with them to Paris. And you have always considered them an abomination heretofore.
Close double
You close the double doors.
You link the teapot to double doors
Bending your will, you form the link between the hinge-lidded teapot and the double doors.
You go southwest
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

An old gothic door framed in stone leads west. The wooden door is currently closed.

A sad heap of used yellow brocade huddles on the floor here.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go to the east
The south door leads only out of the estate, where you are not ready to go. You can go only north, west, northeast, up or down.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You take it
(putting the bag on a string into the sack to make room)
Taken.
Go down
You can go only south or west.
You open double
You open the double doors.

The mechanical bee buzzes around the mead.

The hinge-lidded teapot opens.
You link the bee to dancers
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they seem as though they will never go together.

The bee briefly attempts a landing on the mead.
Close double
You close the double doors.

The hinge-lidded teapot shuts.
Go upwards
In your hunger, you dream of curls of toasted bread, dripping with butter.

Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving rooms.

North is the old conservatory.
You go west
Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting sunlight over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.

You can also see a hinge-lidded teapot (which is closed) here.
You open teapot
You open the hinge-lidded teapot, revealing a clockwork bee and some mead.

The bee buzzes around the mead.
You take teapot
Taken.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
You go north
In your hunger, you dream of the small, bitter oranges of Jerusalem.

A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is Clock Repair.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.
You go west
Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting sunlight over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.

You can also see a hinge-lidded teapot (which is closed) here.
Go downwards
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

An old gothic door framed in stone leads west. The wooden door is currently closed.

A sad heap of used yellow brocade huddles on the floor here.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

Just on the quarter-hour the cuckoo clock opens up its door and a mechanical bird flies forward. It sings a brief warbling tune, then withdraws into its little door.
You eat the sausages
It would help if you had, say, a fork.
You take the fork
(putting the silver coins into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You eat the brie
(first taking the wedge of brie)
(putting the goat cheese into the sack to make room)
It seems a bit uncouth just to take bites out of the brie without slicing it or anything. Even if no one's watching.

Goodness, but you're exhausted.
You cut the brie with the knife
Which do you mean, the butcher knife or the table knife?
Table
(first taking the table knife)
(putting the old letter into the sack to make room)
You slice yourself a piece of the brie.
You look at the table
(the table)
A glossy mahogany table. Seats 25 easily; supports a massive epergne without complaint. Once the Baroness of Venchy (who was not an entirely respectable lady, having been an actress for some years before the Baron met her)-- once, elevated by spirits, she also became elevated by this very table, and delivered herself of two monologues and her overskirt before anyone had the presence of mind to call her to a halt.

Goodness, but you're exhausted.
Go upwards
Goodness, but you're exhausted.

Staircase, First Floor
The top of a broad curving stair: east is the long salon that goes the length of the house, downstairs are the foyer and the grand receiving rooms.

North is the old conservatory.
Go west
You could really go for a nap.

Stripped of the clutter it once possessed, the room still offers a charming view through the north window of the old grounds, and the way out is to the east. The wallpaper and floorboards are still as fine as ever.

Hanging on the wall is an elegant gilt-wood mirror, reflecting sunlight over the ground before it.

Her desk remains, pushed against the wall.
You examine the window
Windows framed in the old style, arched at the top with a little knot of carved flowerettes and ribbon-work.

You could really go for a nap.
You open it
These windows do not open or close.

Goodness, but you're exhausted.
You go east
A chilly northern exposure, perhaps, but really quite lovely. This room used to be where Marie would practice her music, and the Countess play her compositions; Marie's own room lies to the west.

On the high shelf is Clock Repair.

The pianoforte stands in the center of the room.

Goodness, but you're exhausted.
Descend
Odd. Eating has made you a bit sleepy.

Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

An old gothic door framed in stone leads west. The wooden door is currently closed.

A sad heap of used yellow brocade huddles on the floor here.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go east
(first opening the double doors)
You open the double doors.

The hinge-lidded teapot opens.

A narrow corridor between the kitchen and the main house, which has a thick separate wall. The two buildings are only barely attached, to discourage fires. A small staircase leads down.

Double doors give west onto the main house.

The clockwork bee, detecting your presence, stirs angrily to life. You make a few noble efforts to bat it away, but all to no avail. With deadly accuracy it finds your skin; there is a sharp sting, then a gradual dulling...
Sleep
You need a proper bed to sleep in.

Goodness, but you're exhausted.
You enter the bed
You get onto the bed.
You jump
You jump a few times on the bed, childishly.
Sleep
You close your eyes...

You're standing alone, in a darkened room. It's hard to be certain, but it seems that you are probably underground, and that the walls are stone. You're a bit dirty.

There's a bowl of standing water. You glimpse into it, and see Marie's face. This unnerves you, so you examine yourself, and you are Marie -- dressed in a gown you've never seen before, but it's tattered. You are handcuffed, and the cuffs chafe.

Then the scene grows more distant, and you feel as though you are pulling out of Marie's eyes, and seeing her now from the outside. Then you realize that you are looking through a strange window, and all around the edge of the window are odd markings. You're still somewhere deep underground, or possibly underwater...

You wake up with a start.
Look around
Servants' Dormitory (on the bed)
Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.

In the fireplace are some bits of shattered brick.
You read Dyes
(first taking On Vegetable Dyes)

(putting the hinge-lidded teapot into the sack to make room)
Taken.

You flip through the pages, becoming transfixed by a discussion of how the Celts, supposedly, were wont to dye clothing in a decoction of powdered lichen and stale piss, brewed together for three weeks and then strained.

But beside this pleasant concoction there are references to others, such as onion skin boiled in water to produce a pleasant yellow.
You wait a while
Time passes.
You eat the brie
Which do you mean, the slice of brie or the wedge of brie?
Slice
What do you want to slice?
You eat the slice
You polish off the slice of brie. Each taste melts on the tongue.
Go downward
What do you want to slice down with?
Go downward
(first taking the floor)
You can't reach from here.
You go downwards
You get off the bed.

Up here the female servants used to sleep. Now there is only a dreary row of unmade beds; a rack for drying washing; the fireplace, hollow and untended. Time was, when you were very young, that you used to creep in here for chatter and gossip, and the language you were used to hearing at home.

In the fireplace are some bits of shattered brick.
You link the dancers to the letter
Bending your will, you form the link between the mechanical human dancers and the old letter.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the piano
Legs and case are fashioned out of a dark, heavy wood, with the keys of the usual color. The lid is propped open on a metal stick, and there is a music stand as well, though it is without music.
You link the dancers to piano
(first unlinking the mechanical human dancers)
You succeed in unlinking the mechanical human dancers from the old letter.
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.
You play the piano
You sit down at the piano and begin to play, as you have not in years: a minuette.

The dancers, as though touched by the music, come to life. They meet, and bow, and then begin to dance, now taking hands, now letting go, now apart, now together, up and down their cogged dance floor.
You link the dancers to the letter
Bending your will, you form the link between the mechanical human dancers and the old letter.
You play the piano
You sit down at the piano and begin to play, as you have not in years: a minuette.

The dancers, as though touched by the music, come to life. They meet, and bow, and then begin to dance, now taking hands, now letting go, now apart, now together, up and down their cogged dance floor.

While the dancers dance, the characters on the Count's letter begin to shuffle themselves: each sixth letter steps out of line, bows, and slides across the paper into a new position. The punctuation, the capitalization, fade away in the brisk music, and new forms appear.
You read the letter
"Daughter," it begins. "If I ever leave you or am lost,
there are some matters you must know of. First-- I have laid aside some provisions, a small store only, against disaster: money, letters of introduction to certain persons, but most of all the means to defend yourself, if need comes. They are hidden, and the ways to find them woven up long ago where only the proper light will show it. You're a clever girl, Marie. I know you will not resort to them heedlessly.

"Look after the servants: they have been loyal and good all your
life. If you find you wish to sell any of the odder things I brought your mother, don't give them away cheap. They'll fetch a large price from M. Couligne in the Rue des Arbres. If you marry, for your mother's sake let it be a man who is well-born, but for mine, please daughter, not someone who will deny you the right to practice your craft.

"And last -- my dear girl, this will come as a shock to you, and I
am sorry. But when you were stuck in the well as a child, and so close to death, I became desperate, and took the very dangerous step of linking you to Pierre, so that you would not die as long as he lived. So you see, it was not only gratitude that made us raise him almost as your brother, but concern for your very life, since your mother and I knew that as long as he was healthy and well, so would you be. Therefore, child, keep an eye on him, and if ever he is in want, look after him carefully. I know that you are fond of him in any case, but think on this in addition: his very life is yours."

It is signed, "Your loving father."
You take the bauble
(putting the fork into the sack to make room)
The celestial bauble slips out of its holder, and the planets go dark.
You put the bauble in the blue
(the bottle of mead)
The neck of the bottle is much too small.
You put the bauble in the blue jar
You put the celestial bauble into the blue glass jar.
You take the bauble
(putting the wedge of brie into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You put the bauble in the green jar
You put the celestial bauble into the green glass jar.
Close box
(the assortment of boxes and barrels)
You close the assortment of boxes and barrels.
You close the wooden box
You close the dark wooden box.
Search boxes
You look inside one of the nearby barrels and find some hunks of salted pork.
You put the bauble in the blue
(the bottle of mead)
The neck of the bottle is much too small.
You put the bauble in the blue jar
You put the celestial bauble into the blue glass jar.
You examine the rug
It's a deep, thick carpet, so comfortable that your mother would have been happy to have it for a bed. There is a peculiar pattern woven into the rug, obvious in the blue light, that looks somewhat like this:

....................#####..####...#####.. ......................................... .............#####..####...####...####... ......................................... ...###.###..........#####.........#####.. ......................................... .....###.###....###...####......#####.... ......................................... ...............#####..####......####..... ......................................... ................................#####.... ......................................... ........#####..#####..................... ......................................... ........####...####...................... ......................................... ...............#####..#####..#####.......
You look at the rug
It's a deep, thick carpet, so comfortable that your mother would have been happy to have it for a bed. There is a peculiar pattern woven into the rug, obvious in the green light, that looks somewhat like this:

..#...#...#..#...#....................... ..#...#...#..#...#..#......#...#..#...... ..#...#...#.............................. ...#..#..#...#...#..#......#...#..#...... .............#...#.........#...#......... ......................................... .............................#........... .....#..#..#...#...#..#...#..#..#........ ....#...#...#................#........... ....#...#...#..#...#..#...#..#..#........ ....#...#...#..#...#..#...#..#........... ......................................... ......................#......#........... ........#......#......#......#........... ......................#......#........... ........#......#......#......#........... ........#................................
You put it in the red jar
You put the celestial bauble into the red glass jar.
You fill the cup with water from well
You put some water in the cup. This fills the cup to the brim. The water mixes with what was already there.
You fill the cup with the water
The cup is already full.
You examine the cup
A cup, glossed in white and decorated with the crest of the family, just as though it belonged to the family china pattern.

In the cup is a mixture of water and onion dye.
Empty cup
water and onion dye: You pour the water and onion dye out onto the ground.
You fill the cup with the water
You put some water in the cup. This fills the cup to the brim.
You link the water in cup with the water in well
Liquids repel linkage, not being discrete bodies. (The Count once demonstrated this by linking a block of ice and letting you watch the link fade as the ice warmed.)

The sun burns off some of the water and onion dye.
You examine drain
What you can see of the drain hole is chiefly that it is blocked at this end by the sponge.
You look at what you're carrying with you
You are carrying:
On Vegetable Dyes
a slice of brie
a table knife
a bottle of mead
some mead (which leaves some room in the bottle of mead)
a sack (which is open)
an old letter
some silver coins
a bag on a string (which is open but empty)
some mechanical human dancers
a stone block
two corks
a rug
a yellow handkerchief (tied in a sopping knot)
a rope ladder
a butcher knife
a dark wooden box (which is closed)
a sword
a green glass jar (which is open but empty)
a red glass jar (which is open)
a celestial bauble (providing red light)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is open but empty)
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a swordstick
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
two bottles of wine:
a blue bottle
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
three books:
Guide to Assorted Wines
The Lavori d'Aracne
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
two recipe cylinders:
a Tea Recipe
an Andouillettes Recipe
eight food items:
a wedge of brie
a goat cheese
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
three pieces of silverware:
a fork
a silver-plated corkscrew
a spoon
two metal dishes:
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is closed)
a plate
a dashing hat (being worn)
a cup
some water (which fills the cup to the brim)
You examine the blue bottle
(the bottle of mead)
Aside from the contents, an entirely ordinary bottle. Currently open and corkless.

In the bottle of mead is some mead.
You link the blue bottle to well
(the bottle of mead to the well)
Bending your will, you form the link between the bottle of mead and the well.
Empty bottle of mead
mead: You pour the mead out onto the ground.

The level of the water in the well sinks out of sight.
You look at well
A dark circle of stone, the depths of which you cannot see. The water does not begin until many feet down, and is for all reasonable purposes inaccessible from here.

A bar of iron crosses the well, to support a bucket on a rope (which, however, is itself lacking).
You put the ladder on the bar
(first taking the rope ladder)
Taken.

You adroitly fasten the rope ladder to the bar.
You put all in the sack
On Vegetable Dyes: Done.
slice of brie: Done.
table knife: Done.
blue bottle: Done.
You put it in the well
The celestial bauble falls into the distance.
You look at well
A dark circle of stone, the depths of which you cannot see. The water does not begin until many feet down, and is for all reasonable purposes inaccessible from here.

A bar of iron crosses the well, to support a bucket on a rope (which, however, is itself lacking).
Link the bottle of the mead to well
Bending your will, you form the link between the bottle of mead and the well.
Empty bottle of mead
mead: You pour the mead out onto the ground.

In the hot sun, the mead would appear to be evaporating.

The level of the water in the well sinks out of sight.
You put the bauble in the bag
(first taking the celestial bauble)
Taken.

You put the celestial bauble into the bag on a string.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a dashing hat (being worn)
a cup
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a bag on a string (which is open)
a celestial bauble (providing white light)
a dashing hat (being worn)
a cup
You drop the cup
The cup is already here.
Wear the bag
You put on the bag on a string.
Go downward
You cling to the rope ladder, deep within the well. The sky has narrowed above you to a coin of pale blue. The damp stones brush against your body as you move, no doubt leaving stains on the elegance of your attire, but there is no longer time for such concerns.

An opening in the north wall. You could crawl, if you chose.
You go north
You squirm your way through the close packing of stones, a tunnel not much wider than your body...

A room like a coffin of rock: rock lines the floor, packed rocks vault the roof, in a shape little longer than a man's body, and just tall enough to accommodate you in sitting upright. There is an odor of dampness and vague decay, though you can feel, brushing round you in the air, the web of strong protections. The room does not seem to have been soaked, despite the water level in the well outside.

The sloping passage leads back into the body of the well, to the south.

There's a rounded stone in the back wall that looks loose.

Pushed to one side is a heavy box.
Examine box
Like the strong box that people take in their coaches for traveling.
You open it
You open the box, revealing an important paper and some gold coins.
You look at them
A nontrivial portable fortune, obviously packed up with exactly that in mind. The coins are brightly minted, but old.
You read it
The text is too long to read, but you get the sense of it quickly. It is an order from the King: the traitor the Baron D'Envers, otherwise the heir through primogeniture of the estate of the Count, is prevented from the enjoyment of that inheritance, though for unnamed reasons he is not to be executed.

The text goes on to add that these matters are to be kept private, but that Marie is female heir effective to the Count's line, with all the rights and honors preserved, and that anyone she marries, regardless of background, will become rightful Count.
You look at your surroundings
A room like a coffin of rock: rock lines the floor, packed rocks vault the roof, in a shape little longer than a man's body, and just tall enough to accommodate you in sitting upright. There is an odor of dampness and vague decay, though you can feel, brushing round you in the air, the web of strong protections. The room does not seem to have been soaked, despite the water level in the well outside.

The sloping passage leads back into the body of the well, to the south.

There's a rounded stone in the back wall that looks loose.

Pushed to one side is a heavy box.
You look at stone
About as large as your head, but a bit broader and flatter.
You take the stone
Moving the rock reveals a strange mirror imbedded in the back wall.
You examine the mirror
It is, or should be, a mirror, but it is surrounded by odd markings. A spot at the bottom of the frame seems worn by touch. At one point there is what would seem to be a maker's mark, an ornate letter C.
You search mirror
It is dark and clouded.

otherwise too dissimilar to use."
You touch the mirror
You touch the frame of the mirror, but nothing happens. Perhaps the mirror has not been activated (in whatever way that would work.)
Kiss mirror
You can only do that to something animate.
You put all in the bag
round stone: The bag on a string will accommodate only small items. important paper: The bag on a string can really only accomodate one object at a time.
gold coins: The bag on a string can really only accomodate one object at a time.
Examine box
Like the strong box that people take in their coaches for traveling.
You put all in the box
round stone: Done.
important paper: That won't fit into the box, given what else is already there.
gold coins: Those won't fit into the box, given what else is already there.
You put all in the box
important paper: Done.
gold coins: Done.
Go upwards
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

You can see a cup (which is empty), a sack (in which are a slice of brie, On Vegetable Dyes, an old letter, some silver coins,
some mechanical human dancers, a stone block, two corks, a rug, a yellow handkerchief, a butcher knife, a dark wooden box (which is closed), a sword, a green glass jar (which is empty), a red glass jar (which is empty), a navy cloak, some documents, a blue glass jar (which is empty), a round metal tin (which is empty), a small portrait, a jeweled pin, a snuffbox (in which is a quantity of snuff), a swordstick (which is empty), two keys (a silver key and an iron key), three books (Guide to Assorted Wines, The Lavori
d'Aracne and The World Is Hollow (which is empty)), two
recipe cylinders (a Tea Recipe and an Andouillettes Recipe), three bottles of wine (a blue bottle (which is empty), a blue bottle (which is empty) and a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)), four pieces of silverware (a table knife, a fork, a silver-plated corkscrew and a spoon), eight food items (a wedge of brie, a goat cheese, a salers, some apples, a bay leaf, a sprig of parsley, a sprig of mint and a clove of garlic) and two metal dishes (a hinge-lidded teapot (which is closed) and a plate)) and a sticky mixture of mead, water, and onion dye here.
You examine the key
Which do you mean, the ornate key, the silver key or the iron key?
Ornate
It's not exactly easy to get a good look.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You link the ornate to the table knife
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You look at the sword
A slender and flexible blade, and more decorative than useful, though there have been a few occasions when it became helpful against brigands in the street. The design at the hilt is a bit ornate, but not unpleasantly so.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You link ornate to the sword
Bending your will, you form the link between the ornate key and the sword.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You twist the sword
You rotate the sword in mid-air, but it turns too smoothly, without friction: like a key being turned outside of a lock.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You put the sword in the swordstick
(first taking the sword)
Taken.

You put the sword into the swordstick.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You turn it
You rotate the sword in its sheath. There is a clicking noise from the gothic door as the ornate key also rotates in place.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You open the gothic
You open the gothic door.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You go west
The walls in this area are unfaced stone, without the plastering, scrollwork, and wallpaper of the main building. To the west is the family's private chapel, for their devotions when they did not feel like attending the parish church.

A staircase of worn stone steps leads up to the area above the chapel.

The door to the foyer is back to the east.
Go west
The old private chapel, octagonal-shaped, with tall windows of stained glass, casting a dazzling pattern of blue and green on the ground. Here the family used to hold its private worship services, keeping a form of the official religion that would no doubt have scandalized the parish curate.

There's a conspicuous rat-hole where the stone floor meets the wooden beams.
You examinthe rat-hole
A dark concavity, lined with the gathered debris of past services; bits of paper curled into the shadows, and string, and gnawed grey cloth. Most notably, there are a gilded key, a wadded paper and a rat.
You touch the rat
Keep your hands to yourself!
You take the key
(the gilded key)
The rat nips your fingers sharply, drawing blood. You squeeze the offended digits until the flow is staunched. "Bastard scion of Lucifer!" you yell at it.

It stares back at you beadily.
You kill the rat with the sword
(first taking the sword)
You draw the sword from its sheath. You stab. It dodges. The point of your sword buries itself into the wood and takes a moment to pull out again.

With this kind of luck, it's going to take a lot of stabs before you get anywhere. Maybe you'd be better off with a subtler strategy.
You go to the east
The walls in this area are unfaced stone, without the plastering, scrollwork, and wallpaper of the main building. To the west is the family's private chapel, for their devotions when they did not feel like attending the parish church.

A staircase of worn stone steps leads up to the area above the chapel.

The door to the foyer is back to the east.
Go east
Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble.

The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.

An old gothic door framed in stone leads west.

A sad heap of used yellow brocade huddles on the floor here.

On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.

The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
You put the teapot ithe rat-hole
(first taking the hinge-lidded teapot)
Taken.

You block the rat hole with the hinge-lidded teapot.

Of course, the rat is still in there, and you don't fancy the idea of trying to starve it out.
You take the teapot
You take the hinge-lidded teapot, freeing up the hole again.
You look at the wedge
Oozing and ripe, somehow. You would expect it to be thoroughly ruined by now -- this is not a cheese that should age -- but the Count's powers were diverse, and extended to careful protections of his possessions. Of the wedge, only a couple of pieces remain.
You examine the salers
An aged, creamy yellowish cheese with an uneven grey-brown rind. It has a sharp and distinctive flavor, though it does not fall under the category of stinky cheeses.
You drop the brie
Which do you mean, the slice of brie or the wedge of brie?
Slice
What do you want to slice the rat hole with?
You drop it
Dropped.

Seeing the cheese lying tantalizingly out on the floor, the rat scurries out and takes it.
You take the key
(the gilded key)
The rat runs along the wall to its home with unseemly haste.

The rat nips your fingers sharply, drawing blood. You squeeze the offended digits until the flow is staunched. "Creature of Lucifer!" you yell at it.

It stares back at you beadily.

In the rat-hole, the rat eats a bit more of its dinner.
You kill the rat with the sword
You're closer this time, you can feel it -- the rat is out, exposed, and unprotected. You strike--
You put the teapot in the hole
It dodges your attack adeptly. Speed and agility are on its side.

The rat scurries back into its hole.

You block the rat hole with the hinge-lidded teapot.

Of course, the rat is still in there, and you don't fancy the idea of trying to starve it out.
You put the teapot in the hole
Seeing you move, the rat scampers back into the rathole with unseemly haste.

(first taking the hinge-lidded teapot)
Taken.

You block the rat hole with the hinge-lidded teapot.

Of course, the rat is still in there, and you don't fancy the idea of trying to starve it out.
You open the teapot
Seeing you move, the rat scampers back into the rathole with unseemly haste.

You open the hinge-lidded teapot, revealing a clockwork bee and some mead.

The rat nibbles methodically at the slice of brie. It seems to be getting quite a bit of soft brie goo on its nose and whiskers.

The bee hovers above the mead.
You open it
You open the hinge-lidded teapot, revealing a clockwork bee and some mead.

The mechanical bee buzzes around the mead.
You take the slice of the brie
Taken.

The mechanical bee briefly attempts a landing on the mead.
You put it in the teapot
You put the slice of brie into the hinge-lidded teapot.

The rat emerges from its hole and sniffs with interest around the outside of the hinge-lidded teapot.

The bee hovers above the mead.

The rat makes the fatal judgement error of attempting to go after the cheese. This rouses the bee to anger; there is an agonized squeal, and then both bee and rat fall still, the one spent, the other dead.
You take all from the hole
gilded key: Removed.
wadded paper: Removed.
You read wadded
...can be used to view the other member of a strong link. Under
most circumstances there is a word of some sort required to activate such viewing devices, which may be spoken to it or in its presence.

Next to this in handwriting: "(Our mirror from the workshop in the Rue des Arbres.)"
You read Lavori
(first taking The Lavori d'Aracne)

(putting the sword into the sack to make room)
Taken.

On the subject of mirrors: Unusual and costly mirrors of special
power exist which enhance the workings of the lavori d'Aracne; they may be recognized by their failure to reflect in the ordinary way. Some make it easier to form a link through the mirror than through open air, allowing the magician to reverse-link items that are otherwise too dissimilar to use. Likewise, such a mirror...

But then, unfortunately, it breaks off, the page apparently having been chewed out and carried away by something or other.
You go to the east
The walls in this area are unfaced stone, without the plastering, scrollwork, and wallpaper of the main building. To the west is the family's private chapel, for their devotions when they did not feel like attending the parish church.

A staircase of worn stone steps leads up to the area above the chapel.

The door to the foyer is back to the east.
You go upward
The worn and winding staircase is not so easy to climb, you find; it would be worse with a flickering candle in the dark. But still you manage...

As a child, you were never allowed in here; it is the only part of the house that is completely unfamiliar to you, though some parts were better known than others. The room, like the chapel below it, is made of stone, unfaced; high windows, clear rather than stained glass, admit a pure light. It is also octagonal, and the ceiling ribs meet at a boss overhead, shaped like a coiled dragon.

It does not have the bare appearance of most of the other rooms of the house. There is a full company of furniture -- a tall-backed ebony and ivory chair, poster bed, wardrobe, inlaid florentine table. A staircase of worn stone steps leads back down.

On the inlaid table are a fanciful book and an unfinished letter.

There is a trunk in the middle of the room, its lid thrown open and its contents beginning to spill out.
You read the fanciful book
(first taking the fanciful book)

(putting the gilded key into the sack to make room)
Taken.

It seems to be set in Italy and to involve a number of improbable situations. There is a daring heroine who gets herself into assorted scrapes, and also a mysterious (and magic-using!) hero who appears to let her out of them again (but then always irritatingly departs without a word).
You read unfinished
Dear Father,

Things have gone badly since you last wrote. I refused the hand of D'Envers, as you recommended (though I cannot say that I had any desire to wed him in any case), and, if he were a gentleman, that would have been the end of the matter. But a few days later I caught one of the maids going through my personal things, and when I questioned her it came out that D'Envers had bribed her to see if he had a rival! I turned her off immediately, but things became worse. There are men of the D'Envers livery passing by the estate on various pretenses, and I am constantly watched.

I moved my things into your room -- it seems safer. I have shut
away some of the valuables. I am about to leave as well -- I will try to get to Pierre in Paris. He will know what to do.

I wish you had left me some hint of what you were doing, what you intend...
You examine the chair
Made of ebony but fitted, at the top of the back, with faces made of ivory and inset into the heavy wood; and as for the upholstery, it is done in fine silver on black.
You examine the bed
An old, slightly battered frame, massive and sheltering, with posts like the masts of a ship.
You open the wardrobe
You open the wardrobe, revealing a selection of dresses.
You search the wardrobe
In the wardrobe is a selection of dresses.
You take the dresses
No point in taking the entire armload of gowns. You'd only get them damaged, and you can hardly afford to replace them.
You wear the dresses
(first taking the selection of dresses)
No point in taking the entire armload of gowns. You'd only get them damaged, and you can hardly afford to replace them.
You examine table
(the inlaid table)
The top surface of the table is ornamented with inset stone in design; it looks Florentine.
You examine the trunk
The sort of trunk that someone packs things into in preparation for a journey.

In the trunk are a bracelet, an ivory silk gown and a pair of shoes.
You look at the bracelet
A bracelet of onyx beads, threaded on silk and silver. It has a clasp that opens and closes.
You take it
(putting the wadded paper into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You remember the bracelet
...

You remember buying it quite clearly, but have not seen it since you gave it to her. It is an odd trinket for a grown woman, especially one with so many other jewels at her disposal.

...
You examine the gown
An exquisite gown of ivory silk: its vast skirts are embroidered with an intricate colored pattern of birds and foliage, and the bodice is decorated with outsized bows.
You take it
(putting the clockwork bee into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You examine shoes
(the pair of shoes)
Ivory dress shoes for a woman with delicate feet (Marie; the Countess had larger extremities). The heels are studded with diamond chips. They're worth a small fortune.
You take the shoes
(the pair of shoes)
(putting the rat corpse into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You wear the gown
Even if your dignity would allow such a ludicrous gesture, you very much doubt that the gown would fit you. It looks about Marie's size.
You wear the shoes
(the pair of shoes)
Mincing about in Marie's heeled shoes is not likely to help you much.
You examine the dragon
The boss is left over from an earlier, more primitive time, and have a certain fierceness in the carving of the dragon and claws.
You drop the rug
(first taking the rug)
Taken.

Dappled blue and green light plays over the rug.
You examine it
It's a deep, thick carpet, so comfortable that your mother would have been happy to have it for a bed. There is a peculiar pattern woven into the rug, made visible by the matching pattern of blue and green light. It looks somewhat like this:

..#...#...#..#...#..#####..####...#####.. ..#...#...#..#...#..#......#...#..#...... ..#...#...#..#####..####...####...####... ...#..#..#...#...#..#......#...#..#...... ...###.###...#...#..#####..#...#..#####.. ......................................... .....###.###....###...####...#..#####.... .....#..#..#...#...#..#...#..#..#........ ....#...#...#..#####..####...#..####..... ....#...#...#..#...#..#...#..#..#........ ....#...#...#..#...#..#...#..#..#####.... ......................................... ........#####..#####..#......#........... ........#......#......#......#........... ........####...####...#......#........... ........#......#......#......#........... ........#......#####..#####..#####.......
Unlock east
What do you want to unlock east with?
You unlock the east door with the gilded key
(first taking the gilded key)
You unlock the tall door.
You look at the key
(the gilded key)
A gilded key.
Go east
(first opening the tall door)
You open the tall door.

A large room with windows that face south, and a fireplace along the east. The place is a mess. Other rooms have looked bare, but this one-- this room has been ransacked. Furniture has not simply been removed or disarranged, it has been thrown around, in some cases even chopped up. The handsome secretaire has been turned into splinters.

North is the doorway into the room that was once your bedroom.

An open door leads back west into the corridor.
You examine windows
Windows framed in the old style, arched at the top with a little knot of carved flowerettes and ribbon-work.

Something about the wreckage tickles your recollection.
You remember the wreckage
...

You sat on one of the chairs, legs dangling, while your father talked to the Count.

"Whatever you like," the Count said. "We owe you everything... My daughter's life..." He spread his hand, and you felt awed that this man could owe your father anything.

Then your father glanced at you sideways, turned the cap in his hands, and began: "My lord, we have many mouths at home."

...
You look at the fireplace
A handsome fireplace with the family crest carved in stone on the mantel.

In the fireplace are some remains of papers.
You read remains
Not the sort of thing you can just read, even if they were intact.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a gilded key (which opens the tall door)
a pair of shoes
an ivory silk gown
a bracelet (being worn)
two books:
a fanciful book
The Lavori d'Aracne
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
a slice of brie
some mead (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a sack (which is open)
a rat corpse
a clockwork bee
a wadded paper
a sword
an old letter
some silver coins
some mechanical human dancers
a stone block
two corks
a yellow handkerchief (tied in a sopping knot)
a butcher knife
a dark wooden box (which is closed)
a green glass jar (which is open but empty)
a red glass jar (which is open but empty)
a navy cloak
some documents
a blue glass jar (which is open but empty)
a round metal tin (which is open but empty)
a small portrait
a jeweled pin
a snuffbox (which is open)
a quantity of snuff
a swordstick
two keys:
a silver key (which opens the red door leading west)
an iron key (which opens the russet door leading east)
two recipe cylinders:
a Tea Recipe
an Andouillettes Recipe
three bottles of wine:
a blue bottle
a blue bottle
a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape (which is closed)
four pieces of silverware:
a table knife
a fork
a silver-plated corkscrew
a spoon
eight food items:
a wedge of brie
a goat cheese
a salers
some apples
a bay leaf
a sprig of parsley
a sprig of mint
a clove of garlic
a plate
three books:
On Vegetable Dyes
Guide to Assorted Wines
The World Is Hollow (which is open but empty)
a bag on a string (being worn and open)
a celestial bauble (providing white light)
a dashing hat (being worn)
Describe the surroundings
A large room with windows that face south, and a fireplace along the east. The place is a mess. Other rooms have looked bare, but this one-- this room has been ransacked. Furniture has not simply been removed or disarranged, it has been thrown around, in some cases even chopped up. The handsome secretaire has been turned into splinters.

North is the doorway into the room that was once your bedroom.

An open door leads back west into the corridor.
Go north
A large, bright, sunny room, which you still regard with affection.

In your absence it has turned into a general sitting room. Gone is the table where you used to study -- it took you a long time to learn to read as well as Marie, but you did not care to be left behind by someone two years younger than yourself; also the wardrobe, which astonished when you found that it was to contain nothing but clothes for you.

On the windowsill is a vase (in which are some dead roses).
You examine the roses
Dried and disintegrating, though you can tell that they were once red. The petals are crumbling into a papery dust around them, however.

Something about the dead roses tickles your recollection.
You remember
What do you want to remember?
You remember the roses
...

"How does he treat you?" Your mother, standing outside in the field in her best dress because she refused to be brought inside the house. "Is he very strict? Does he beat you?"

"No, of course not, Maman. It is just as though he were my own Papa."

She frowned, looked away. "And I suppose you are learning all sorts of things," she said.

"Oh, yes, much more than at home."

She made a little gesture; then her mood changed. "But you must be missing the sweet bread I make at home, no? I'll bring you some in a basket."

"No, Maman, the cooks make me anything I want."

...
You examine the vase
A tall vase of some kind of turned stone, ornamented somewhat on the outside but neatly cylindrical inside.

In the vase are some dead roses.
You take it
(putting The Lavori d'Aracne into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You eat the roses
(first taking the dead roses)
(putting the fanciful book into the sack to make room)
They're plainly inedible.
Search window
Through the windows you can see the gardens -- first a wide patch of green, and then the flower plots delineated by hedges and topiary, and the scattered statues.
You go west
A long empty room with shined wooden floors, perfect for sliding in stocking-feet. West is the top of the staircase, and rooms open to the north and east.

The door to the Count's study stands open.
You go east
West is the wall of the kitchen. Most of the space along the wall is planted with herbs -- bay, parsley, stalks of mint -- left of the open doorway. To its right is only a drainage ditch, catching the outflow of a pipe that comes through the wall.

In one corner of the plot is the well, drilled many deep feet; in another is the antique sundial.

You can see a cup (which is empty) and a sticky mixture of mead, water, and onion dye here.
You take the swordstick
(putting the ivory silk gown into the sack to make room)
Taken.
You wear the pin
(first taking the jeweled pin)
(putting the pair of shoes into the sack to make room)
You slip the jewelled pin on. You close the jeweled pin.
Wear the rat corpse
(first taking the rat corpse)
You can't wear that!
You look at what you're carrying with you
You are carrying:
a rat corpse (as far from yourself as possible)
a jeweled pin (being worn)
a swordstick
some dead roses
a vase
a gilded key (which opens the tall door)
a bracelet (being worn)
a hinge-lidded teapot (which is open)
a slice of brie
some mead (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot)
a bag on a string (being worn and open)
a celestial bauble (providing white light)
a dashing hat (being worn)
You put the roses in the teapot
You put the dead roses into the hinge-lidded teapot.
You put the rat in the teapot
You put the rat corpse into the hinge-lidded teapot.
You put the key in the teapot
(the gilded key in the hinge-lidded teapot)
You put the gilded key into the hinge-lidded teapot.
You drop the teapot
Dropped.

The sun burns off some of the mead, water, and onion dye.
You drop the vase and the swordstick
vase: Dropped.
swordstick: Dropped.
Go north
You squirm your way through the close packing of stones, a tunnel not much wider than your body...

A room like a coffin of rock: rock lines the floor, packed rocks vault the roof, in a shape little longer than a man's body, and just tall enough to accommodate you in sitting upright. There is an odor of dampness and vague decay, though you can feel, brushing round you in the air, the web of strong protections. The room does not seem to have been soaked, despite the water level in the well outside.

The sloping passage leads back into the body of the well, to the south.

Pushed to one side is a heavy box.

You can also see a round stone and a mirror here.
You examine the mirror
It is, or should be, a mirror, but it is surrounded by odd markings. A spot at the bottom of the frame seems worn by touch. At one point there is what would seem to be a maker's mark, an ornate letter C.
You say couligne
(to the mirror)
When you speak the word, the mirror brightens somewhat, attentive to your intentions.
You touch the mirror
The mirror brightens and clears.

You make out the image of Marie, alone, in a room high in a tower. The place is bare, except for a cot, and the clothes she is wearing.

On the wall of the room you can discern the painted emblem of the house of D'Envers.

Marie rubs at the handcuffs, shifting her hands.
You look at the handcuffs
(the handcuffs through the mirror)
Ugly, thick metal that bind Marie's wrists.

Marie shifts uncomfortably from one position to another.
You link the handcuffs to the pin
(the handcuffs through the mirror)
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just a little too different. Maybe if they looked more alike.

Marie shifts uncomfortably from one position to another.
You link the handcuffs to the bracelet
(the handcuffs through the mirror)
Bending your will, you form the link between the handcuffs and the bracelet.

Marie shifts uncomfortably from one position to another.
You remove the bracelet
You take off the bracelet.

Marie pokes at her hair hopelessly, perhaps trying to restore it to some semblance of order.

The handcuffs fall open. Marie appears surprised, but not too surprised to react; she immediately pulls the handcuffs off fully and throws them on the ground.
You examine marie
(Marie through the mirror)
She seems bedraggled and dispirited. She is wearing a good dress, but it has been on her for a while, and is ruined by damp and dirt, and frayed at the hems.

Marie sits down against the wall, with a disgusted expression.
You examine the cot
(the cot through the mirror)
It looks mostly clean, at least, which is a mercy.

Marie sits down against the wall, with a disgusted expression.
You examine the mirror
It is, or should be, a mirror, but it is surrounded by odd markings. A spot at the bottom of the frame seems worn by touch. At one point there is what would seem to be a maker's mark, an ornate letter C.

Marie pokes at her hair hopelessly, perhaps trying to restore it to some semblance of order.
You search it
In the mirror you see reflected some handcuffs, a cot, Marie and a window. Around the edges you can make out other indications of Prison Room.

Marie sits down against the wall, with a disgusted expression.
You look at the window
(the window through the mirror)
The window seems to be glass, but with iron bars across it, ensuring against an easy escape even if the hypothetical escapee could reach it.

Marie sits down against the wall, with a disgusted expression.
You look in the mirror
In the mirror you see reflected some handcuffs, a cot, Marie and a window. Around the edges you can make out other indications of Prison Room.

Marie walks across the width of the room and stands looking up through the high window for a moment.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a jeweled pin (being worn)
a bracelet
a bag on a string (being worn and open)
a celestial bauble (providing white light)
a dashing hat (being worn)

Marie pokes at her hair hopelessly, perhaps trying to restore it to some semblance of order.
Link pin to window
Bending your will, you form the link between the jeweled pin and the window.

Marie sits down against the wall, with a disgusted expression.
You open the pin
You open the clasp. Naturally, the pin falls off.

Marie flinches as the window swings abruptly open, spraying bits of stone as it does so. You can't hear through the medium of the mirror, but you imagine that it must make a great deal of noise: Marie puts up her arms around her head as though to protect her ears and face.

Then she takes them down again.
Wait
Time passes.

Marie goes to where the cot is and pushes it under the window, obviously in preparation for climbing out.

Just as she does so, however, the door behind her opens, and D'Envers walks in. He says something sharply, which you are unable to hear. She feels around on the bed; you see her hand close around something behind her, and your hopes rise -- but then you see it is only a pillow, roughly round in shape.
You link the pillow to the bauble
(the pillow through the mirror)
(first unlinking the celestial bauble)
You succeed in unlinking the celestial bauble from the sunlight.
You valiantly try to link the two objects, but they are just too dissimilar.

The conversation in the mirror seems to be growing more heated. Marie's fingers tighten on the pillow, which, unfortunately, does not look likely to protect her against a beating from D'Envers.

As for her captor, his breathing has gotten faster and there is a red flush in his face, which is probably the prelude to violence.

It is now pitch dark in here!
Reverse link pillow to stone
(the pillow through the mirror)
Bending your will and all your attention, you manage to make a reverse-link between the pillow and the round stone, feeling their properties begin to merge together.

D'Envers strides towards Marie, and she swings the pillow in his face; it hits so hard that his head snaps back and his nose streams blood. He falls without even crying out.

Marie stands over him for a moment, startled. She leans forward and touches D'Envers' wrist, and then stands up and kicks him hard in the ribs.

Only then does she climb out the window...

Your townhouse in Paris

Marie sips from the cup of coffee in her hand. "I still do not understand," she says, "why you were at the estate in the first place."

You shrug. "I had-- certain obligations." Her eyes meet yours, and she waits. "Gambling debts," you elaborate. "I was hoping your father would advance--"

"I did not know you gambled."

"Under ordinary circumstances, I do not. I was-- led into it, in a way, by an acquaintance, and found myself indebted through him to the Baron D'Envers. He became quite unpleasant about the matter." You examine your fingernails. "In the event, it seems that I am absolved of these debts. I doubt his heir will press them."

She nods. You consider whether to tell her the rest of what you learned. But she speaks first, frowning into her cup. "I should tell you, Pierre, it might not be a coincidence, your trouble with D'Envers." She bites her lower lip. "You see, he was pressing me to marry him, and he might have had the impression-- that is to say, he might have thought--"

You raise your right eyebrow. "If you used me as an excuse, Marie, do not worry about it," you say, with great generosity. "I have been the subject of more embarrassing rumors."

She opens her mouth again, and you smile...

*** You have won ***

In that game you scored 118 out of a possible 125, in 1333 turns, giving you the rank of returned prodigal.
Full
In that game you scored 118 out of a possible 125, in 1333 turns, giving you the rank of returned prodigal.

The score was made up as follows:

5 eradicating a rat
2 redecorating the foyer
3 having an interesting dream
5 forging your first reverse-link
4 turning on the universe
5 catching the clockwork bee
4 success in a culinary venture
3 finally getting over your hunger
5 floating the tea recipe
3 getting rid of a tangle of roses
2 snooping in the Count's papers
2 snooping in the King's papers
3 activating the magic mirror
3 operating at a distance
8 rescuing Marie from a sticky situation
28 collecting items of some value
30 visiting various places

118 total (out of 125)