text: [Themes: horror]
  
  > Go downwards
  Carefully, you descend the creaking steps.
  
  Basement (Ivan Roth)
  It's dark and chilly down here. A damp, mildewy carpet of dimly visible design covers half the floor. It must have been luxuriously soft before it started rotting.
  
  A rickety staircase leads back up towards the heavy wooden door to the kitchen. A flimsy plywood door leads north, but you know what lies in that direction. The dimly-lit basement extends in every other direction, south, east and west.
  
  A metal hatch opens into darkness below.
  
  > examine the dagger
  The dagger has a glossy black blade made of a material you can't identify, with a serrated edge. The blade curves upward, but in a strangely non-uniform way that suggests the equation used to described the curve would be quite complicated. You can see your own face reflected in it, distorted by the blade's odd shape, but you can't make out your eyes; you see only dark emptiness where they should be.
  
  Also, you have no nose -- not even holes.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > go to the west
  You feel cool air swirling around you as you stand in the manor's wine cellar. Stone floors, stone walls, and dim lighting keep the household's dwindling wine collection fresh and oaky.
  
  A large wooden wine rack covers one entire wall of the room, but with only a few bottles left on it. You can see a door to the west Another exit leads east.
  
  You've smashed or removed every bottle of wine, and the rack stands empty before you.
  
  You can see a wine cask here.
  
  > go west
  Your ears pop and you stumble as you step across the threshold, reeling in a momentary gravitational slippage.
  
  Laboratory (Michael Gentry)
  Hard, white light reflected from steel walls pricks painfully at your eyes. Through the glare you can make out the implements of some sort of laboratory, squirming sculptures of metal and glass dripping curdled fluids and spurting foul-smelling puffs of steam. A way out lies east, but otherwise there seem to be no other exits from this place.
  
  The author is here, hunched over and fidgeting intently with a roiling knot of impossible space that floats in the middle of the room.
  
  Distracted, the author stares into the depths of the impossible space, stroking his forehead. "Just, uh, need to clue this puzzle better . . ." he says. "But that would, uh, make this scene more difficult . . ."
  
  > examine the coffee
  The swirls in your cup form a pair of dandelions. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  The impossible space's surface momentarily reflects, by means of some strange convolution that you cannot quite visually process, itself.
  
  > kill the author
  (wielding the crooked dagger (smelling faintly of mildew))
  Without hesitation, you bury the crooked dagger (smelling faintly of mildew) in the author's chest, all the way to the hilt. He coughs once, spraying dark blood. He looks more disappointed than surprised, but still manages to croak out, "Why, uh, why did you . . ."
  
  You see no reason to tell him, however.
  
  The blood-slick hilt of the dagger slips from your hand as the author staggers backwards and falls into the impossible space. In an instant his body is pulled in through itself, spaghettifying into an infinitely long tubule that somehow flares out and back around to enclose the entire universe before fading away. The impossible space itself churns and spins with increasing fury, until with a sound like an unbelievably massive tarp being pulled through a mail slot by a hypersonic jet, it twists away into nothing.
  
  *** You have achieved the death of the author ***
  
  . . . though perhaps the game is better for it.
  
  A silver mirror lies on the floor.
  
  > look at the mirror
  A heavy silver mirror, tarnished and clearly old. When you glance into it the reflections of the house seem to resolve, the inhuman angles and dizzying design resolving into a more sensible pattern.
  
  > go east
  This large closet, illuminated only by the light coming through the door, is so filled with a jumble of clothes that your head spins as you contemplate the mess. In fact, it's so untidy that it's difficult to look at the disorder directly. Squinting through the chaos, you see shelves leading up to the ceiling on one side and a cabinet on the other.
  
  > look at the mirror
  A heavy silver mirror, tarnished and clearly old. When you glance into it the reflections of the house seem to resolve, the inhuman angles and dizzying design resolving into a more sensible pattern.
  
  > look through mirror
  You somehow look calmer in the mirror, and the horrible world behind you seems a little less chaotic—a little easier to deal with.
  
  > examine the cabinet
  Your eye can't quite resolve the angles of the cabinet, but the three (three?) drawers it contains are plain to see. There is an empty frame on the top that might have held a mirror once, but whatever was inside it has been removed.
  
  > put the mirror in the frame
  The mirror fits perfectly in the old frame.
  
  > look at the mirror
  The reflected pile of clothes miraculously resolves itself into a kind of sense, allowing you to differentiate clothes from within the mass. Space folds in upon itself, and then all the shirts, pants, and underwear fold themselves as well, filling the cabinet drawers—and leaving the shelves empty.
  
  > look at the shelves
  The shelves are, thanks to your heroic efforts, bare. On the ceiling above the shelves you see a trapdoor.
  
  > examine the trapdoor
  The trapdoor leads up into darkness.
  
  > Go upwards
  You emerge from the rickety staircase into Cragne Manor's attic, a cavernous black womb.
  
  Far below, the ground shakes, and the Manor sways around you.
  
  From this corner of the attic, paths lead south and west, or you can head back down the rickety staircase. A damp wind flows through a gash in the exterior wall.
  
  You can see a walkie-talkie and a desiccated sausage here.
  
  A mistlike trolley stop sign reads Eggplant Line -- Cragne Manor Attic.
  
  > examine coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a diamond engagement ring. Objects of desire either mean that you are surrounded by great treasures and opportunities or that you need to be more careful with your physical belongings. Possibly both.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > look at the walkie
  This bulky device may or may not be a proper walkie-talkie. It might be old military equipment, or a kid's toy made up to look like military equipment. It has a large speaker, a long antenna, and a single button.
  
  > look at the sausage
  A desiccated sausage as big as your finger, far past its sell-by date. Years past.
  
  > look at the coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a blank, mirrored surface. Lack of a symbolic image means that you have accomplished everything you must in your current environment and should move on to find new challenges in order to grow as a person.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > go west
  Branching Corridor (Zachary Hodgens)
  A trace amount of sunlight filters in impossibly through imperceivable cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the barren wooden walls and floorboards of this narrow passageway. A short distance away you find yourself in a crossroads of sorts. Corridors leading elsewhere go off toward the northwest, west, and east. Another corridor to the southeast dead-ends suddenly, blocked by a pair of large potted cacti.
  
  You can see a gold cactus and a fuzzy cactus here.
  
  The trace rays of sunlight beaming down from above get in your eyes.
  
  > About yourself
  You've been through a lot, but there's more to go.
  
  The sunlight shining down is still in your eyes, no matter where you turn your head. A bead of sweat slides down your face.
  
  > examine the coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a blooming rose. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  The sun will not let up. Was it even sunny outside before you entered the mansion? How long have you been in here? You're beginning to distrust your recollection of events so far.
  
  > examine the gold cactus
  On the left side of the hallway is a gold cactus. This cactus is lacking a center trunk, and instead is a mass of many mid-length stems branching out of the soil. Every inch of this cactus is covered in sharp-looking spikes. The light filtering in from above gives the cactus a golden hue.
  
  The sun continues to assault your senses. Your eyes are beginning to lose focus and you are sweating profusely. The air is so dry in here, it's unbearable.
  
  > examine fuzzy
  On the right side of the hallway is a fuzzy cactus. A single trunk comes up from the soil and branches out in to a multitude of branches in all directions. The branches are covered in tiny spikes that give the cactus an overall fuzzy appearance.
  
  The sun is unyielding. You have lost the context of even the idea of "cold". Heat is your new reality.
  
  > get the gold cactus
  It's far too large and heavy to pick up, but you could probably move it around with some force.
  
  Four and a half billion years ago, a swirling mass of hydrogen and helium became a shinging beacon of light in an endless universe of darkness. It brought together a collection of space debris that over the aeons became a set of planets all its own. Its light allowed life to flourish on one of these planets: your planet. The sun has spent billions of years of effort all to arrive at this moment: the moment where it finally gets to meet you!
  
  The sun is here now. At long last you feel your body evaporating in its absolute light. All at once you are rejoined with your divine creator and you are no more.
  
  > take back
  Your fatal mistake wasn't that long ago! Try UNDO instead.
  
  Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, UNDO the last command or TAKE BACK the action that sealed your fate (for when UNDO is not enough)?
  
  > go east
  From this corner of the attic, paths lead south and west, or you can head back down the rickety staircase. A damp wind flows through a gash in the exterior wall.
  
  An insubstantial trolley stop sign reads Eggplant Line -- Cragne Manor Attic.
  
  > Go west
  Branching Corridor (Zachary Hodgens)
  A trace amount of sunlight filters in impossibly through imperceivable cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the barren wooden walls and floorboards of this narrow passageway. A short distance away you find yourself in a crossroads of sorts. Corridors leading elsewhere go off toward the northwest, west, and east. The corridor to the southeast is still impeded, now by a second pair of large potted cacti.
  
  You can see a flowering cactus and a tall cactus here.
  
  The trace rays of sunlight beaming down from above get in your eyes.
  
  > look at the flowering
  On the right side of the hallway is a flowering cactus. This is the kind of cactus that is made up of a whole bunch of teardrop-shaped paddles that tessellate out from its base. In the light you can see that flowers have started to bloom at its tips.
  
  The sunlight shining down is still in your eyes, no matter where you turn your head. A bead of sweat slides down your face.
  
  > examine tall
  On the left side of the hallway is a tall cactus. Now this is a very traditional-looking cactus. It has a tall green center trunk and two large branches bent at right angles, as if the cactus was flexing its arms at you.
  
  The sun will not let up. Was it even sunny outside before you entered the mansion? How long have you been in here? You're beginning to distrust your recollection of events so far.
  
  > pull the flowering
  You pull the flowering cactus back several feet, giving you enough room to get by and access a safer side of the tall cactus.
  
  Despite everything you know, things continue to get even hotter. It is as if the sun itself is being drawn closer to the surface of the Earth, closer to you.
  
  > pull tall
  You've got a mess of cacti behind you already, it's probably better to push this out of the way instead.
  
  The sun is almost here now. You can feel its radiance burning in every cell of your body. You can see its imperishable light beaming in through every crack and seam of the room.
  
  > go to the east
  From this corner of the attic, paths lead south and west, or you can head back down the rickety staircase. A damp wind flows through a gash in the exterior wall.
  
  An ethereal trolley stop sign reads Eggplant Line -- Cragne Manor Attic.
  
  > Go west
  Branching Corridor (Zachary Hodgens)
  A trace amount of sunlight filters in impossibly through imperceivable cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the barren wooden walls and floorboards of this narrow passageway. A short distance away you find yourself in a crossroads of sorts. Corridors leading elsewhere go off toward the northwest, west, and east. The corridor to the southeast is still impeded, now by a second pair of large potted cacti.
  
  You can see a tall cactus here.
  
  The trace rays of sunlight beaming down from above get in your eyes.
  
  > go to the south-east
  You make your way into the observatory. Your head pounds with the incoherent horror of the day, but here among the stars there is calm.
  
  You carefully sidestep through the maze of cacti you have built.
  
  The Observatory (Joey Jones)
  The observatory is a cramped domed room cluttered with all manner of mechanical contrivance. The way out is northwest.
  
  At the top of the dome is a large telescope. Immediately beneath it is a huge device of brass and gears and dozens of multifaceted lenses.
  
  To one side of the dome is a worn wooden lectern, set before a large chalk circle.
  
  The device is projecting a star sign upon the walls of the dome.
  
  > About yourself
  As you walk through the observatory, stars twinkle across your skin.
  
  > look at the coffee
  The contents of your coffee cup startle you so much that you almost drop it. Instead of organic liquid curves and swirls, the cream forms a weblike pattern of jagged geometric lines that radiate out from the center at irregular intervals like bolts of lightning.
  
  According to the book you read, images like this occur when your fate depends on so many separate actions and courses of destiny that it can no longer be adequately divined by a leftover cup of now-cold muck water.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > examine the telescope
  The telescope is huge and it juts out of the dome into the night sky. Rather than having an eyepiece, a series of mirrors reflects the output into the device beneath it.
  
  > examine the device
  (the walkie-talkie (smelling faintly of mildew))
  This bulky device may or may not be a proper walkie-talkie. It might be old military equipment, or a kid's toy made up to look like military equipment. It has a large speaker, a long antenna, and a single button.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > examine brass
  (the brass nameplate (smelling faintly of mildew))
  "Charles Cragne, Owner"
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > look at the gears
  The device appears to be a planetarium projector. It reflects the stars from the telescope onto a series of mirrors that bounce them through an internal orrery which links them up into star signs to project onto the dark walls of the dome.
  
  Sticking out prominently from the device are a crank and a dial for turning, a toggle for pushing, and a lever and a pulley for pulling.
  
  > examine the crank
  The crank is crooked and appears to only turn in one direction.
  
  > put the nameplate in the sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the brass nameplate (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  > look at the dial
  The dial is rugose and appears to only turn in one direction.
  
  > look at the toggle
  The toggle is red and is of the sort that returns to its initial position once pushed.
  
  > examine the lever
  The lever is lopesided and is of the sort that returns to its initial position once pulled.
  
  > look at the pulley
  The pulley is squamous and is of the sort that returns to its initial position once pulled.
  
  > look at the lectern
  The wooden lectern is worn smooth at the top. Evidently in the long history of the Manor, many books have been placed upon it.
  
  > examine the circle
  A chalk circle spreads out on the floor below the lectern, perfectly round. The chalk is accreted upon layer-upon-layer of earlier circles.
  
  > examine the star sign
  Lines light up novel connections between the stars, making an uncanny new star signs that spread across the walls of the observatory.
  
  The Adept is ascending opposing the Noose.
  
  > turn the crank
  You turn the crank one step, revealing upon the wall the sign of the Despair.
  
  > Keep going
  You turn the crank one step, revealing upon the wall the sign of the Watcher.
  
  > turn the dial
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Tome.
  
  > turn the dial
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Stranger.
  
  > look at Sign
  You decipher the star signs lining the walls: the Watcher is ascending opposing the Stranger.
  
  > turn crank
  You turn the crank one step, revealing upon the wall the sign of the Hook.
  
  > turn the dial
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Phylactery.
  
  > continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Vial.
  
  > Continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Eyes.
  
  > Keep going
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Gate.
  
  > Continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Chain.
  
  > Continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Mask.
  
  > Continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Fortune Teller.
  
  > keep going
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Nemesis.
  
  > Keep going
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Pyre.
  
  > Keep going
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Baleful Hound.
  
  > continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Crown.
  
  > Keep going
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Abyss.
  
  > continue
  You turn the dial one step, unveiling the sign of the Key.
  
  > pull the lever
  You pull the lever and the projector adjusts its focus: now the Hook is above the Key.
  
  > pull the pulley
  You pull the pulley and the projector turns 45 degrees: now the Hook is in motion.
  
  > pull the pulley
  You pull the pulley and the projector turns 45 degrees: now the Hook is descending.
  
  > pull the pulley
  You pull the pulley and the projector turns 45 degrees: now the Hook is in stasis.
  
  > examine the star sign
  You decipher the star signs lining the walls: the Hook is in stasis above the Key.
  
  > go northwest
  Branching Corridor (Zachary Hodgens)
  A trace amount of sunlight filters in impossibly through imperceivable cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the barren wooden walls and floorboards of this narrow passageway. A short distance away you find yourself in a crossroads of sorts. Corridors leading elsewhere go off toward the northwest, west, east, and southeast. Several large potted cacti line the walls of the passageways.
  
  The trace rays of sunlight beaming down from above get in your eyes.
  
  > examine the tall cactus
  On the left side of the hallway is a tall cactus. Now this is a very traditional-looking cactus. It has a tall green center trunk and two large branches bent at right angles, as if the cactus was flexing its arms at you.
  
  The sunlight shining down is still in your eyes, no matter where you turn your head. A bead of sweat slides down your face.
  
  > go to the northwest
  Your reading glasses frost over at the edges. You feel a sharp pain from the cold spot on your shoulder, and feel like there's a library book you--or Emmett, perhaps--hasn't read yet from this location.
  
  Invasive Library (Justin de Vesine)
  Once a study or a small sitting room, a particularly invasive species of library has taken over this space. Walls obscured by stacks of books. Ceiling hidden by stacks of books. The floor might as well be tiled with books. There's a path of sorts from a small doorway to the south to a desk amidst the overgrown collection, and to the southeast, a bookshelf has been shoved aside to reveal a passage through the wall.
  
  A sussuration of paper rustling fills the still air.
  
  > examine coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a blooming rose. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > listen
  This sort of overgrown library is usually very quiet, but there's a soft, persistent rustling here, as though the books object to something's presence.
  
  > look at the desk
  Dark oak. Simple lines and sturdy construction. No drawers for things to get lost in. You would be proud to have it in your office.
  
  > search it
  It is covered in index cards.
  
  The rustling seems to be centered around a small water-damaged green book.
  
  > examine the index cards
  Mountains of index cards. Some stacked, some scattered, all bearing the same neat handwriting.
  
  > search them
  The index cards all appear to be card catalog entries for the same book, Life Beneath Nightmares.
  
  > listen
  This sort of overgrown library is usually very quiet, but there's a soft, persistent rustling here.
  
  book.
  
  > examine green Book
  A thin book, inexpertly bound, with "Life Beneath Nightmares"
  embossed on the sickly green cover in quite astoundingly tacky gold foil. As a small mercy, the author's name is obscured by the insignia of the Backwater Public Library.
  
  > read it
  for baroque and impenetrable language, even by comparison to much of the more self-indulgent class of literature. Searching this book for meaning, despite the relatively small number of pages, might take weeks and involve more notebooks, coffee, and after-session wine than you are prepared to invest, and it would almost certainly end with your brain leaking out your ears. A quick skim, however, suggests you can save all that time by assuming it is mostly complaining about modern youth corrupting the moral fabric of society, the impertinence of women daring to have opinions, and the get-rich-quick scheme of the hour; any subtle nuance of worth that could be dragged out of it just isn't worth the trouble.
  
  It bears the insignia of the Backwater Public Library.
  
  As you finish reading the passage, your own hands grow cold, and the book briefly frosts over before fading again, leaving traces behind only in the library insignia.
  
  > examine book list
  This is your notification that your status with the Backwater Public Library is DELINQUENT due to NON-RETURNAL.
  You are NOT PERMITTED to check out books or to access special library materials until your status is cleared.
  
  To clear your status, you must return ALL books you currently have checked out:
  
  Life Beneath Nightmares
  
  > read the Nightmares
  for baroque and impenetrable language, even by comparison to much of the more self-indulgent class of literature. Searching this book for meaning, despite the relatively small number of pages, might take weeks and involve more notebooks, coffee, and after-session wine than you are prepared to invest, and it would almost certainly end with your brain leaking out your ears. A quick skim, however, suggests you can save all that time by assuming it is mostly complaining about modern youth corrupting the moral fabric of society, the impertinence of women daring to have opinions, and the get-rich-quick scheme of the hour; any subtle nuance of worth that could be dragged out of it just isn't worth the trouble.
  
  It bears the insignia of the Backwater Public Library.
  
  > look at the coffee
  The swirls in your cup form -- weird, they've entirely dissipated. Lack of a symbolic image means that you have accomplished everything you must in your current environment and should move on to find new challenges in order to grow as a person.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > go south
  Abandoned Nursery (Harrison Gerard)
  An octagonal room. Dust coats the walls. In one corner, a crib. In the other, a dollhouse. Exits lead northwest, north, and northeast.
  
  You can see a "Gossipin' Gertie" doll and a vacuum cleaner here.
  
  > look at the coffee
  The swirls in your cup form a bactrian camel. Modes of transportation mean that your current environment presents challenges that can only be overcome by seeking fresh perspectives elsewhere until you're ready to return.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > examine the crib
  An antique. It's rotting.
  
  > examine the dollhouse
  A large wooden dollhouse. Its exterior is a nearly perfect match for Cragne Manor, but there's something odd about the interior.
  
  > examine the interior
  The interior rooms of of the miniature manor are all mixed up. Staring at the jumble for too long gives you a headache, however the most noticable feature is a large and frenzied spiderweb coating the inside.
  
  > examine gertie
  The doll is an antique. It wears a little smock, now nearly rags; and its face peers up at you.
  
  > look at the vacuum
  A big old antique vacuum cleaner. It seems to be missing a component.
  
  The vacuum cleaner is currently switched off.
  
  > Go northeast
  Science Tower (Riff Conner)
  This round, tall room must be a tower. I don't know if you were given a description of the manor from the outside, or if it mentioned a tower if you were, but if you were and it did, this is probably that tower. At a guess it's around fifty feet tall, although it's very shadowy up at the top so it's difficult to estimate it accurately.
  
  It appears to be some kind of science lab, although you would expect a science lab to have more stuff in it; perhaps all the stuff that was easily moveable has already been taken away. There's a large table in the center of the room, and everything else is up against the walls: a complex-looking control console, a large chalkboard, a metal cabinet, an old iron ashtray stand, and a wooden barstool with a hamster cage on top of it.
  
  The whole place has a thick smell of science throughout it (assuming science smells like chalk dust, hamster, cigarettes, and electricity), and rain is pounding at the windows. There are exits to the east and southwest.
  
  On the chalkboard is a yellow sticky-note.
  
  > look at the leather bracelet
  It's a brown leather strap a quarter-inch wide, wrapped twice around your wrist and fastened with a simple metal snap. It has an embossed pattern of knotwork vines and leaves. It is non-interactive.
  
  > examine the coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a single cherry. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > examine table
  The large table in the middle of the room appears to be some kind of operating table, or at least that's what you surmise from all the strange equipment connected to it. Thick electrical cables run all around the perimeter of the surface, which is metal engraved with complex patterns of lines and symbols reminiscent of an old nautical chart. Rather than having legs, the table rests on a rectangular central pillar made of steel planks and machinery. All in all, it seems pretty important.
  
  Thunder booms loudly outside, rattling the windows.
  
  > look at the console
  This big metal console is covered with blinking lights and glowing vacuum tubes (do vacuum tubes glow? Well these ones do anyway) and two of those big zappy Jacob's Ladder things, and even a lava lamp for some reason. The front panel has a huge array of dials and switches and gauges, none of which are labelled in a way that makes sense to you. That is, apart from three large central buttons: a blue one, a green one, and a yellow one, labelled "SKYLIGHT", "LIFT", and "ANTENNA", respectively.
  
  > look at the blue button
  It's a blue push-button labelled "SKYLIGHT". Presumably it operates the skylight up above. That is probably the safest guess of any you'll make tonight.
  
  > examine the green button
  It's a green push-button labelled "LIFT". I can't really tell you any more about it than that.
  
  A bright flash of lightning illuminates the windows, as presaged by the thunder a moment ago. ...Wait a minute, that isn't how lightning works.
  
  Must be some weird eldritch thing, I guess.
  
  > look at the yellow button
  It's a yellow push-button labelled "ANTENNA". You don't know what it does. ...Yet.
  
  > look at the chalkboard
  (the chalkboard)
  One of those big old slate chalkboards set in a wooden frame with a pivot so you can flip it over and use the other side. It also has little wheels so you can move it around, but I'm going to tell you right now that it's perfectly fine where it is.
  
  It has a long and elaborate mathematical equation written on it (in chalk, naturally).
  
  On the chalkboard is a yellow sticky-note.
  
  > read it
  One of those big old slate chalkboards set in a wooden frame with a pivot so you can flip it over and use the other side. It also has little wheels so you can move it around, but I'm going to tell you right now that it's perfectly fine where it is.
  
  It has a long and elaborate mathematical equation written on it (in chalk, naturally).
  
  On the chalkboard is a yellow sticky-note.
  
  > look athe sticky-note
  This faded yellow sticky-note is hanging onto the chalkboard with its last sticky breath. The handwriting on it is tough to read, but it appears to say "For the love of [unreadable] don't forget to open the skylight before raising the table this time."
  
  > turn the chalkboard
  (the chalkboard)
  It is fixed in place.
  
  > flip it
  You flip the chalkboard over and find that the squiggly symbols in the equation have somehow bled through the slate to the other side. That's odd.
  
  You flip the chalkboard back over to make it easier to not think about that.
  
  > look at the cabinet
  It's a plain gray metal cabinet, such as might store tools and cleaning supplies in a boiler room, or pens and stationery in the office space attached to a warehouse. If this manor doesn't have an elevator, the movers did a lot of cursing.
  
  Thunder booms loudly outside, rattling the windows.
  
  > open it
  Fortunately, it isn't locked. What a hassle that would be, am I right? Unfortunately, it doesn't contain anything very exciting, like weird fetal monsters pickled in formaldehyde, or unlabelled jars of chemicals. Just a pen, a paper bag, and an old key.
  
  > examine the pen
  (the black fountain pen (smelling faintly of mildew))
  A black fountain pen. It looks like the ink is long dried up.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > put the fountain pen in the sp.
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the black fountain pen (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  A bright flash of lightning illuminates the windows, as presaged by the thunder a moment ago.
  
  > look at the pen
  On closer inspection, it isn't a pen at all -- it's one of those telescoping pointer things that lecturers use to... point at things. Back before lasers stopped being expensive and magical. It's currently retracted, but you could EXTEND it.
  
  > examine Key
  Which do you mean, the old iron key, the silver and ivory key or the ornate bronze key?
  
  > look at the old iron key
  This heavy old black iron key probably unlocks something pretty important, if you had to guess.
  
  > get it
  Taken.
  
  Thunder booms loudly outside, rattling the windows.
  
  > examine the ornate bronze
  This old, slightly tarnished bronze key is covered in fine, lacy designs.
  
  > look in the cabinet
  The gray metal cabinet is empty.
  
  A bright flash of lightning illuminates the windows, as presaged by the thunder a moment ago.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying:
  an ornate bronze key
  an old iron key
  a bag of peanuts (closed)
  a pointer thingy (retracted)
  Life Beneath Nightmares (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a desiccated sausage
  a walkie-talkie (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a leather cord and pendant (being worn)
  a wine bottle (smelling faintly of mildew)
  some Nilla wafers (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a box of Nilla Wafers (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a wad of cash (smelling faintly of mildew)
  some assorted teeth (smelling faintly of mildew)
  Limerickus Dirtius (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a stubby pencil (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a vintage Black Sabbath tee shirt (being worn)
  a black horn (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a torn notebook (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a creased square of paper (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a jar of old keys (smelling faintly of mildew) (open)
  a silver and ivory key
  a small blue journal (which you know is a journal because it says "Mein Journal" on the front) (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a bottle of Pepto-Bismol (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a copper amulet (being worn)
  an a worn out, decaying picture (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a little stoppered vial of blue liquid (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a battered yellow JogMaster (being worn)
  a slip of paper (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a calfskin coat (being worn)
  a pewter box (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a silver urn (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a pair of reading glasses (being worn)
  a cold spot on your collarbone (haunting you) (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a book list (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a golden apple (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a FFFFFFFF punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 923647F1 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a C353F128 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 0B46E931 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an AE9B711D punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 00A02209 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a can of salt (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a blank punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  the Journal of Edwin Cragne (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an Isole Perdute (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Lettera Segreta (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Prurito Notturno (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Piccoli Uomini Blu (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusted toolbox (smelling faintly of mildew) (open)
  a jar of screws (open but empty)
  a scrap of paper (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a snowglobe (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a mallet (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a metal flask (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pinch of snail paste (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an Italian magazine cutting (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a police report ("Francine Cragne") (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a note from a seesaw (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a piece of chalk (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a black box (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a shard (smelling faintly of mildew)
  red-rimmed porcelain plates (smelling faintly of mildew)
  red-rimmed porcelain cups (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a spray bottle that used to contain fungicide (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a gallon jug of white vinegar (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of garden shears (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusty flathead screwdriver (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a trophy for a dog race (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a black business card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusty piece of metal (smelling faintly of mildew)
  some yellowed newspapers (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an employee ID card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a long hooked pole (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a grimy rock (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a backpack features guide (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a trolley schedule (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pamphlet of home listings (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an antique locket (smelling faintly of mildew) (closed)
  a repaired page (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a waterproof flashlight (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a filthy rug (smelling faintly of mildew)
  Daniel Baker's note (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pull-string doll (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a glass jar containing an insect (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of stone earplugs (being worn)
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (closed)
  a book pocket (closed)
  a side pocket (closed)
  a trash pocket (closed)
  a gold jacket (being worn)
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  
  > put the rug in sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the filthy rug (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  > put the insect in the sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the glass jar containing an insect (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  > put the grimy rock in the sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the grimy rock (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  > put the yellowed newspapers in the sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the yellowed newspapers (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  > put the shard in the tp
  You unzip the trash pocket, deposit the shard (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the trash pocket back up again.
  
  > put the features guide in the sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the backpack features guide (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  Thunder booms loudly outside, rattling the windows.
  
  > put the porcelain plates in the tp
  You unzip the trash pocket, deposit red-rimmed porcelain plates (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the trash pocket back up again.
  
  > put the porcelain cups in the tp
  You unzip the trash pocket, deposit red-rimmed porcelain cups (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the trash pocket back up again.
  
  > put the police report in the sp
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the police report ("Francine Cragne") (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  A bright flash of lightning illuminates the windows, as presaged by the thunder a moment ago.
  
  > put the trophy in the sp.
  You unzip the side pocket, deposit the trophy for a dog race (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the side pocket back up again.
  
  > put the black box in the tp
  You unzip the trash pocket, deposit the black box (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the trash pocket back up again.
  
  > open the bag
  You open the paper bag, and discover a single lonely peanut inside it.
  
  > examine the peanut
  (the bag of peanut)
  It's a small paper bag with a cartoon peanut stenciled on the front with the "word" PNUTS below it.
  
  In the bag of peanut is a single peanut.
  
  > examine single peanut
  A single peanut in the shell. Or rather, a single peanut shell, which has two peanuts inside it, but we call it a peanut anyway instead of "a peanuts". It's probably linguistically related to "a pair of pants".