text: [Themes: Fantasy, animal NPC, humor, insect NPC]
  
  > About you
  You look a right proper adventurist in your top hat, bowtie, and greatcoat (even if the coat is a mite threadbare), but you feel rather like one who's sorely missing his dragonfly.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  your last farthing
  your top hat (being worn)
  your bowtie (being worn)
  your double-brested greatcoat (being worn)
  
  > go to the northeast
  This store has a peculiar array of items for sale, although the shelves are largely empty now. Hard times all round, you suppose. Curious-looking rocks and crystals can be had at various prices, and there are a few pieces of basic archer's equipment for sale as well. A sign notes that the archery equipment is on clearance.
  
  The proprietor-- the eponymous Merchant Guy, you presume-- sits behind the counter, eyeing you with thinly-veiled suspicion.
  
  On the counter are a polished piece of labradorite, a small crystal ball and a bismuth crystal.
  
  On the shelves are a glass prism, a calcite prism, a magnifying glass lens and a jar of silica.
  
  Beside the counter is a basket for archery supplies. Inside it you see a short arrow, an archer's arm-guard and a bow.
  
  > ask Guy about the dragonfly
  "My good man, I don't suppose you've seen a lost dragonfly of late? I... seem to have mislaid my special dragonfly. She answers to the name of Emma."
  
  "Ain't no dragonflies round 'ere," says the proprietor.
  
  He regards you mistrustfully.
  
  > ask Guy about the bow
  You have a look in the basket. It doesn't look too promising. "Archery equipment on clearance, you say? How much for the bow?"
  
  "One farthing. Firm. And I don't want no 'agglin neither from the likes of you," he clarifies.
  
  > ask Guy about the lens
  Studying the contents of the shelves, your eye falls upon a magnifying glass lens. You take it and hold it up to the light, examining it carefully. "How much for the magnifying glass lens?" you enquire.
  
  The proprietor quotes a figure considerably above one farthing. You replace the magnifying glass lens on the shelf.
  
  He glowers at you suspiciously.
  
  > look at Guy
  He has a handlebar moustache and a curmudgeonly mien.
  
  He eyes you with hostility.
  
  > ask Guy about the labradorite
  You take a closer look at the polished piece of labradorite, picking it up off the counter and turning it this way and that as you examine it. "How much for this?" you enquire.
  
  The proprietor quotes a figure. Needless to say, it's more than one farthing. You replace the polished piece of labradorite on the counter.
  
  He regards you balefully.
  
  > ask Guy about the glass prism
  Studying the contents of the shelves, your eye falls upon a glass prism. You take it and hold it up to the light, examining it carefully. "How much for the glass prism?" you enquire.
  
  The proprietor quotes a figure considerably above one farthing. You replace the glass prism on the shelf.
  
  He watches you angrily.
  
  > Sing
  You sing a few bars of Yarel's Lament. Emma doesn't seem to fancy your singing voice, but she's not here to complain, is she?
  
  He eyes you hatefully.
  
  > Xyzzy
  To tell the truth, an incantation or two would come in right handy about now. Alas, it is your sister, not you, who is schooled in the Uncanny Arts.
  
  He scowls at you mistrustfully.
  
  > go outside
  You're in Skry Im, a collection of ramshackle cottages and shops at the crossroads of the King's Highway and the Way of the Sea. One such ramshackle shop can be found to the northeast: Merchant Guy's Specialty Minerals and Archery Supplies. Also there's a ramshackle inn to the southwest.
  
  > go to the southwest
  The cleverly-named Skry Inn is closed at present. What little business it does, it typically does after sundown. Presumably the proprietors clean up the place or sleep during daylight hours-- although based on what you saw of the establishment last night, likely they do more of the latter than the former. You're pretty sure your dragonfly isn't to be found in there anyway.
  
  > go northwest
  Just farmland that way and not really any roads or points of interest to speak of. It seems an unlikely direction for your dragonfly to have gone.
  
  > go to the south-east
  Southeast is some nondescript farmland and beyond that the Fae Forest. Surely Emma would not have gone that way.
  
  > go to the north
  Emma always did dislike the cold-- so much the more so since becoming a dragonfly. You find it unlikely she would have headed towards the frigid North Countries. The Midlands are quite cold enough in the fall, she has said many times.
  
  > go south
  You consider the possibility that your dragonfly set off along the Way of the Sea to points south. She has mentioned wanting to see the swamps and jungles of the Darklands before, but it isn't like her to just run off in the middle of the night.
  
  > go east
  Back east toward the mountains is the way you came from. It is possible she backtracked, but you can't think why.
  
  > go to the west
  Of all the directions Emma could have gone, west to the sea seems the most likely, relatively speaking. But there's little reason for her to simply leave you behind-- it's not as if a dragonfly can hire a ship. And in any case, you aren't about to go gallivanting off that way without a firm lead.
  
  > remove the hat
  You see little need to get undressed now, cold as it is. And that's to say nothing of polite society's rules of decorum.
  
  > go to the northeast
  This store has a peculiar array of items for sale, although the shelves are largely empty now. Hard times all round, you suppose. Curious-looking rocks and crystals can be had at various prices, and there are a few pieces of basic archer's equipment for sale as well. A sign notes that the archery equipment is on clearance.
  
  The proprietor-- the eponymous Merchant Guy, you presume-- sits behind the counter, eyeing you with undisguised suspicion.
  
  On the counter are a polished piece of labradorite, a small crystal ball and a bismuth crystal.
  
  On the shelves are a glass prism, a calcite prism, a magnifying glass lens and a jar of silica.
  
  Beside the counter is a basket for archery supplies. Inside it you see a short arrow, an archer's arm-guard and a bow.
  
  > ask the man about the Archery Supplies
  He says, "See 'ere now-- I don't care to say nothin' 'bout that. So's either BUY somethin' or get out me shop if ye please. I amn't in the mood for entertainin' drifters."
  
  > examine the arrow
  The toy arrow reminds you of that old riddle:
  
  dragon flies like... what?
  
  The answer: labradorite! You're given to understand that the punchline makes more sense if one speaks Old Low Dwarvish.
  
  > examine the guard
  For the archer who dislikes the snap of the bowstring scraping the skin off his forearm. It's little more than a thin cloth rag and some drawstrings, however. For the archer on a budget.
  
  He watches you balefully.
  
  > look at the bow
  A child-sized bow-- a toy, in fact. Were you to actually use it in an engagement, your only chance would be that your foe die of laughter.
  
  > ask Guy about the arrow
  You have a look in the basket. It doesn't look too promising. "Archery equipment on clearance, you say? How much for the short arrow?"
  
  "One farthing. Firm. And I don't want no 'agglin neither from the likes of you," he clarifies.
  
  He glares at you hatefully.
  
  > examine the labradorite
  It shimmers blue and green in the light, like a dragonfly.
  
  He watches you balefully.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  your last farthing
  your top hat (being worn)
  your bowtie (being worn)
  your double-brested greatcoat (being worn)
  
  He glowers at you angrily.
  
  > take the labradorite
  Merchant Guy watches you like a hawk. A very suspicious hawk. It's quite unlikely you'd be able to get away with pilfering the polished piece of labradorite-- at least not while he can see you.
  
  > ask the man about the labradorite
  You take a closer look at the polished piece of labradorite, picking it up off the counter and turning it this way and that as you examine it. "How much for this?" you enquire.
  
  The proprietor quotes a figure. Needless to say, it's more than one farthing. You replace the polished piece of labradorite on the counter.
  
  > Offer bowtie to man
  You see little enough sense in doing anything like that to your bowtie.
  
  He eyes you suspiciously.
  
  > buy the arrow
  You cast a critical eye on the items in the clearance basket, examining each from several angles, tsk-tsking and tut-tutting with slightly exaggerated disapproval. "You have only the one arrow?" you ask after a few moments.
  
  "Toy bow don't need but one," the proprietor responds. "One farthing for each piece in the basket. Or two for the lot," he adds.
  
  "A farthing for one arrow?" you ask incredulously. You pick the arrow from the basket and hold it up to your eye, looking carefully down the length of it. "And the arrow is out of true anyway. Not worth much of anything, is it?"
  
  The proprietor takes the arrow out of your hand and puts it back in the basket. "Don't make much difference to a kid, y'ask me. Two farthings for the lot," he repeats.
  
  "One. For the lot." You meet the proprietor's hostile gaze with equanimity. For one tense moment, it's a stand-off. Then, wordlessly and reluctantly, he holds out his hand. You pay him your one farthing, taking care not to move too quickly, and casually pick up the whole basket.
  
  "And I shall save you the trouble of throwing out this worthless basket as well." For a moment, the merchant looks as though he's about to object, but he just glares at you murderously instead. "Pleasure doing business, my good man," you say cheerfully.
  
  He scowls at you balefully.
  
  > examine basket
  A worn-out basket made of dried rushes. It looks to be on the verge falling apart, but it is usefully opaque nonetheless.
  
  In the basket are a short arrow, an archer's arm-guard and a bow.
  
  > buy the arrow
  You cast a critical eye on the items in the clearance basket, examining each from several angles, tsk-tsking and tut-tutting with slightly exaggerated disapproval. "You have only the one arrow?" you ask after a few moments.
  
  "Toy bow don't need but one," the proprietor responds. "One farthing for each piece in the basket. Or two for the lot," he adds.
  
  "A farthing for one arrow?" you ask incredulously. You pick the arrow from the basket and hold it up to your eye, looking carefully down the length of it. "And the arrow is out of true anyway. Not worth much of anything, is it?"
  
  The proprietor takes the arrow out of your hand and puts it back in the basket. "Don't make much difference to a kid, y'ask me. Two farthings for the lot," he repeats.
  
  "One. For the lot." You meet the proprietor's hostile gaze with equanimity. For one tense moment, it's a stand-off. Then, wordlessly and reluctantly, he holds out his hand. You pay him your one farthing, taking care not to move too quickly, and casually pick up the whole basket.
  
  "And I shall save you the trouble of throwing out this worthless basket as well." For a moment, the merchant looks as though he's about to object, but he just glares at you murderously instead. "Pleasure doing business, my good man," you say cheerfully.
  
  > put the basket on man
  Not while there's something still in it.
  
  He glares at you angrily.
  
  > take all from the basket
  short arrow: Prehended.
  archer's arm-guard: Acquired.
  bow: Commandeered.
  
  > put basket on man
  You upend the basket and put it over Mr Guy's head-- a trick you saw once. You do so hate to have to engage in such chicanery, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
  
  > take the labradorite
  Removed.
  
  > take all
  basket: That seems to belong to Merchant Guy.
  small crystal ball: Appropriated.
  bismuth crystal: Acquired.
  glass prism: Taken up.
  calcite prism: Appropriated.
  magnifying glass lens: Pocketed.
  jar of silica: Seized.
  
  > examine the labradorite
  It shimmers blue and green in the light, like a dragonfly.
  
  > Wave labradorite
  There would probably be talk if you were seen doing any such thing to a polished piece of labradorite.
  
  > Rub labradorite
  You suddenly realize that you don't really need to do that to the polished piece of labradorite. Most likely.
  
  > shoot bow
  This bow is so flimsy it would likely break if you tried to shoot it in earnest. Frankly, you'd be better off throwing the arrow at your target.
  
  > throw the arrow
  Better not drop that. It might come in handy later.
  
  > drop all
  jar of silica: Dropped.
  magnifying glass lens: Better not drop that. It might come in handy later.
  calcite prism: Dropped.
  glass prism: Dropped.
  bismuth crystal: Dropped.
  small crystal ball: Dropped.
  polished piece of labradorite: Dropped.
  bow: Better not drop that. It might come in handy later.
  archer's arm-guard: Better not drop that. It might come in handy later. short arrow: Better not drop that. It might come in handy later.
  
  > look through the lens
  Thoroughly searching the square with the magnifying glass, you discover some dragonfly tracks! How fortunate for you that Emma's left wing is still recovering from that bit of unpleasantness with the goblin fanatics, rendering her earthbound for the time being. Evidently she went southeast.
  
  > go to the southeast
  You carefully follow the tiny dragonfly tracks southeastwards through the farmland and into the dark forest. Why on earth would she...? But no matter; you enter the forest. The gnarled, twisted trees of this place resent your intrusion and seek to impede you at every turn. Nonetheless you press on as any proper adventurist would...
  
  Your dragonfly's trail has led you here, to the gloomy underbrush of this centuries-old forest. Apparently she continued south from here.
  
  Unfortunately, a swarm of venemous time flies impedes further progress.
  
  > Examine flies
  The flies swarm menacingly to the south of your position, preventing you from following the dragonfly tracks any farther. The undergrowth is too thick and the light thorugh the forest canopy too dim to try to go round and find the trail again further along-- it is difficult enough following these tracks directly what with all the dead leaves still covering the forest floor.
  
  > show the arrow to flies
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > open the jar
  It is sealed very, very tight. You don't seem to be able to get it open.
  
  > Wave arrow
  You look ridiculous waving the short arrow.
  
  > throw the arrow at the flies
  Foregoing the use of the useless bow, you hurl the arrow into the midst of the time flies. As one, they descend onto the arrow and begin to devour it. At least... you think they are devouring it. In any event, the swarm now covers the arrow, leaving your path clear to the south.
  
  > Go south
  You press on boldy southwards, carefully following the trail with the help of the magnifying glass. Surely it can't be that much farther-- how far can an earthbound dragonfly get in less than a day's time?
  
  You suddenly emarge from the trees into a broad clearing. In the midst of it is some manner of infernal altar made from one solid piece of polished obsidian.
  
  On the infernal obsidian altar is Emma.
  
  As you might've known all along, the diabolical Doctor Magnusson is here as well, up to no good as usual. "Charlie, my dear lovely boy!" he exclaims upon seeing you. "Your sister and I were beginning to fear you wouldn't make it!"
  
  > examine Emma
  She's rather on the petite side, and has pearlescent wings and a shimmery blue-green carapace like polished labradorite-- she's been thus ever since that unfortunate mishap long ago. She's presently unconscious and tied to an obsidian altar. A tiny smoking censer dangles above her.
  
  > look at Doctor
  He sports a bowler, a purple cravat, a black velvet waistcoat, and a van dyke beard. You also notice that he wields a wavy-bladed sacrifical dagger.
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  a jar of silica
  a magnifying glass lens
  a calcite prism
  a glass prism
  a bismuth crystal
  a small crystal ball
  a polished piece of labradorite
  a bow
  an archer's arm-guard
  your top hat (being worn)
  your bowtie (being worn)
  your double-brested greatcoat (being worn)
  
  > examine the censer
  A tiny smoking censer hangs from a little stand on the altar. You surmise that the incense fumes from the censer are keeping Emma unconscious.
  
  You decide you've seen quite enough. "Doctor Magnusson... It seems," you choke out, mostly keeping your composure, "you've set upon my sister without cause. I fear I'm obliged to demand satisfaction, sir."
  
  Magnusson sighs. "Must it come to this?" He meets your gaze for a moment. "Yes I suppose it must, mustn't it? Very well then, I've no pistols, so it's swords or nothing."
  
  "Swords it is then."
  
  "You've a blade...?" he asks.
  
  You shake your head. "Sadly, we had a bit of a set-to with some ruffians in the mountains--" you start to explain, but Magnusson waves off this trifle and starts to root about for a pair of swords suitable for dueling. He discovers some on the ground behind the altar, and stoops to pick them up. As he stands, he bumps the incense-burning censer, knocking it off the altar-- apparently without noticing. He approaches and extends the swords to you, hilts first. They are a pair of dueling sabres, one with a brass hilt, one bronze, but otherwise seemingly identical.
  
  "Choose your weapon, my dear Charlie, and we shall get this sorted."
  
  > look at brass
  It looks just like the other, aside from the hilt.
  
  > look through the lens
  No need for that-- you've found her. Now to effect her rescue!
  
  > look at the censer
  It's fallen from its place on the altar and now lies upon the ground. Magnusson evidently did not note its fall.
  
  > take censer
  The tiny smoking censer is too far away.
  
  > give the labradorite to Emma
  She appears to be unconscious.
  
  > look in the crystal ball
  Looking through it causes images to be weirdly distorted.
  
  > take the bronze
  You choose the bronze-hilted sabre and step back, falling to a fencer's stance. Magnusson raises his blade as well.
  
  "Defend yourself!" he cries, and lunges toward you. The clash of steel rings out like a bell across the clearing, putting a nearby flock of birds to the wing...
  
  You gradually come round, wakening to the sound of steel on steel. A... a swordfight? What's going on?
  
  Charlie leaps forward, shouting and swinging wildly up high. Magnusson narrowly avoids the blow, and responds with a risky attack against his foe.
  
  > About yourself
  Still a dragonfly, alas.
  
  Magnusson swings toward his opponent's legs. Charlie leaps back, dodging the attempt, and offers up a textbook riposte, shouting exultantly.
  
  > Down
  Being bound to an altar rather constricts your freedom to do much of anything.
  
  Charlie lunges forward, blade aimed toward his opponent's midsection. Magnusson deflects the assault, and returns an unexpected counterattack of masterful precision.
  
  > Inventory
  You aren't carrying anything of course, being a dragonfly. But as it happens, you have one readied spell: BURN.
  
  Magnusson thrusts toward his opponent's legs. Charlie steps aside, avoiding the attack, and returns a standard reprise, shouting exultantly.
  
  > Burn
  What do you want to burn?
  
  > Burn doctor
  Charlie will doubtless be put out by this, with his peculiar code of honor, but nevertheless... You call forth a spirit of burning against Doctor Magnusson. In your weakened state you're not capable of engulfing him in a pillar of flames, but you are able to burn his hand sufficiently hard that he's forced to let go his weapon.
  
  Charlie kicks away the dropped sword and presses the point of his own blade to Magnusson's adam's apple. "Yield, cur!" he calls dramatically, a bit winded by the sound of it.
  
  "I yield," Magnusson concedes. "And your sister is now awake, it would seem," he adds, not without bitterness.
  
  "Indeed." Charlie thinks for a moment, then twitches his sword to the side. "Begone. And pray we never cross paths again, Magnusson." Magnusson stands and flees into the woods without a word or a glance behind.
  
  > take the dragonfly
  You are still securely bound. One should hope that your brother would release you after going to all this trouble to find you.
  
  > examine charlie
  Charlie grins back at you and doffs his hat in a mock-formal bow.
  
  > release Emma
  (Freeform conversation is not implemented in this game. To communicate, ask Charlie about something.)
  
  > ask Charlie about the rescue
  "Might I trouble you to help me off this altar?" you ask.
  
  "Oh! Of course-- forgive me." At a single stroke, Charlie cuts your bonds with his newly-liberated bronze-hilted sabre, newly liberating you as well. "Are you all right?"
  
  "I will be," you reply. "I need to rest before I can send us, however."
  
  "Very well." Charlie reaches into his pocket and withdraws a piece of polished labradorite!
  
  "And just where did you steal that, if may I ask?" you ask, trying not to sound too delighted.
  
  He laughs. "Best not to enquire too closely."
  
  > examine the labradorite
  ...And after a few hours of rest, you let Charlie know that you're ready to go. He picks you up gently with one finger.
  
  "Xyzzy!" you call. You both disappear in a puff of orange smoke.