text: > Go downwards
  Sa-ho! By Huron's fibrillating uvula, this is a party! Here in this GRAVEL PIT, a collection of rowdies and jackanapes have made an outlaw camp, with drink and music and fighting galore! The center of attention seems to be a GLADIATOR'S RING.
  
  You see a nearby CHALLENGE POST, and a PARTY OF ROGUES stands by, engaged in revels and high jinks.
  
  > Examine post
  The CHALLENGE POST is a wooden pole hung with dyed banners, each representing a GLADIATOR willing to meet challengers. Beginning with the lowest, the banners are BLUE, GREEN, GOLD, and RED. There is room for one more banner above the others, but RED is presently the highest on the POST.
  
  A nearby rogue espies your curiosity, and sayeth "If ye wish a bout, barbarian, SEIZE the banner of your chosen foe, to display your challenge!"
  
  > seize green
  As you pluck the GREEN BANNER from the CHALLENGE POST, the assembled rowdies cheer! You are ushered into the gladiator's ring, where you stand face-to-face with the famed Klengon Criminal, THRANG! "Prepare for mighty battle, barbarian!" he shouts, and cracks an arrogant grin.
  
  You take a moment to REGARD your opponent ... THRANG is a regal-looking KLENGON, with a mustache so long he tucks it into his belt. He wields an impressive KLENGON WAR HAMMER as if he were born to maim weaker men with it.
  
  > Assail THRANG
  By Huron's cantankerous torpidity, a fine hit! You scored 9 points
  of damage!
  
  THRANG attacks! You have suffered 11 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  You lunge deep, and strike! You scored 13 points of damage!
  
  THRANG sneers contemptuously, for he has missed!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  You attack! You scored 8 points of damage!
  
  With a mighty KLENGON WAR GRUNT, THRANG leaps to the attack! You
  have suffered 13 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  Taste barbarian rage, THRANG! You scored 12 points of damage!
  
  THRANG circles, cat-like, then swings high with his KLENGON WAR HAMMER! You have suffered 6 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  By Huron's malfunctioning mucus! A mighty blow! You scored 16
  points of damage!
  
  THRANG attacks with great brutality! You have suffered 11 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  By Huron's tyrranical toenail clipper! Thine arm hath failed thee!
  
  THRANG laughs a hearty laugh, and attacks! You have suffered 9
  hits of damage!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  By Huron's thrice-blessed loincloth, your TWO-HANDED SWORD lands
  home! You scored 8 points of damage!
  
  With a mighty KLENGON WAR GRUNT, THRANG leaps to the attack! You
  have suffered 6 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail THRANG
  By Huron's terrifying tirades, a blow to be remembered! You scored
  12 points of damage, leaving THRANG at your mercy!
  
  THRANG is defeated!
  
  With your final blow, THRANG is cast to the dust and gravel, his body bloodied, his towering ego reduced considerably.
  
  The crowd erupts in cheers, and you accept their ale and accolades. Extending the hand of fellowship to your foe, you help THRANG to his feet, and he smiles a grudging smile. "You are a worthy foe, barbarian. You fight like a true KLENGON."
  
  The crowd cheers again, and you nod in silent assent. THRANG bows in respect, and wanders away to heal for a while, and eventually the crowd returns to their revels.
  
  Sa-ho! By Huron's painless paludism, this is a party! Here in this GRAVEL PIT, a collection of rowdies and jackanapes have made an outlaw camp, with drink and music and fighting galore! The center of attention seems to be a GLADIATOR'S RING.
  
  You see a nearby CHALLENGE POST, and a PARTY OF ROGUES stands by, engaged in revels and high jinks.
  
  > regard BRIDGE
  This ancient bridge crosses a stream running down from the uplands to the east, and disappearing into a small CULVERT at the base of a cliff. This cliff, and the SLAVER KING'S CASTLE atop it, casts an icy shadow over the bridge. There is no path to the CASTLE from here, but the ROYAL ROAD lies to the north.
  
  Your ears pick up the dying-song of the BRUNTA BIRD, calling out to its mate in the final throes of psychic suffocation.
  
  > use POLE on SLUG
  The TELEPHONE POLE is not yours to toy with, barbarian. Neither is the RUIN SLUG.
  
  > regard the archway
  The RUINS bespeak of a life unlike your own, and all is too far gone to learn much from looking.
  
  > Assail archway
  When thy saga is writ and thy story told and maidens swoon to hear it, the tale-tellers will, in kindness and in mercy, skip the part where the DEBRIS hath distracted thee so.
  
  > Go north
  The pine trees have the first dustings of winter, here, and you espy much more snow to the east, in the FROSTED UPLANDS. The runoff feeds a briskly-flowing stream, which flows west toward the CASTLE. Marshier country lay to the south.
  
  A bit upstream from you, a GRIZZLY BEAR is fishing for food, but not having much luck. The BEAR doesn't seem hostile.
  
  You enjoy the cool moistness of the breeze on your skin.
  
  > use BAIT on STREAM
  You turn the STINKY BAIT this way and that, considering its possible combinations with the BRISKLY-FLOWING STREAM. You extend your thumb for comparison, because you saw a DWARF do that once and it looked pretty cool.
  
  > use the eye on INCENSE
  With a lick of flame from the decomposing eyeball, the incense takes to light briefly, then to slow ash, and begins releasing fragrant smoke.
  
  There is a sharp smell of ozone, and a faint electric sizzling can be heard nearby.
  
  > seize INCENSE
  The ACOLYTE OF TRAGA shakes his head gently. "The incense is sacred to our faith, barbarian. I would never give it up cheaply ... I would only trade the INCENSE for something of real value in advancing my ambitions, something I could hang over the heads of those foolish lords who serve the SLAVER KING."
  
  > use the secrets on ACOLYTE
  "Barbarian you are a marvel! Strong of arm and politically savvy as well? You are a dark miracle sent by our unholy lord, I have no doubt! Thank you so much! Please, avail yourself of our INCENSE, if you have need of it."
  
  There is a sharp smell of ozone, and a faint electric sizzling can be heard nearby.
  
  > seize INCENSE
  The ACOLYTE OF TRAGA nods assent. "Take it with the manifold blessings of my demon-gods, barbarian."
  
  Seized.
  
  There is a sharp smell of ozone, and a faint electric sizzling can be heard nearby.
  
  > Assail WRAITH
  You miss!
  
  The VOLTAIC WRAITH unleashes twin arcs of STATIC IRE! You have suffered 21 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail WRAITH
  By Huron's uncorrectable underbite, a fine hit! You scored 12
  points of damage!
  
  The VOLTAIC WRAITH misses, and hisses, and this is good news!
  
  > Assail WRAITH
  You attack! You scored 17 points of damage!
  
  With a sinister CRACKLING, the air around you EXPLODES with violent ELECTRIC DEATH! You have suffered 12 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail WRAITH
  You leap, and strike! You scored 12 points of damage!
  
  The WRAITH attacks! You have suffered 18 hits of damage!
  
  > Assail WRAITH
  You lash out with the rage of your barbarian ancestors! You scored
  14 points of damage, leaving the VOLTAIC WRAITH at your mercy!
  
  The VOLTAIC WRAITH is defeated!
  
  The VOLTAIC WRAITH hisses and pops, and evaporates in a puff of acrid ozone. You hear a distant echo, an electric, sizzling voice: "BARBARIAN! YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE LAST OF MY ELECTRO-SPITE!"
  
  The snow on this mountain slope is all but undisturbed, and it glows a rich orange in the light of the setting sun. You can see that sun, far to the west, sinking into the sea. Its rays touch also on an ornate structure: You may (if you dare) ENTER a black TEMPLE to the Viraxian Demon-Gods.
  
  > Regard CORPSE
  It's the finest example of a HALF-DIGESTED CORPSE you've seen since you were enslaved.
  
  You can feel your flesh sizzling as the DIGESTIVE JUICES continue to rise ...
  
  > Pillage
  EYEPATCH OF ODIN: Seized.
  FLESH-TOTEM OF DARTH VIRAXIS: Seized.
  
  You can feel your flesh sizzling as the DIGESTIVE JUICES continue to rise ...
  
  > use the eye on INCENSE
  With a lick of flame from the decomposing eyeball, the incense takes to light briefly, then to slow ash, and begins releasing fragrant smoke.
  
  As the smoke from the incense curls away into darkness, you hear a pained rumbling from the SEA MONSTER.
  
  You can feel your flesh sizzling as the DIGESTIVE JUICES continue to rise ...
  
  > wait
  You stop to rest for a moment.
  
  You can feel your flesh sizzling as the DIGESTIVE JUICES continue to rise ...
  
  > wait for a while
  You stop to rest for a moment.
  
  You can feel your flesh sizzling as the DIGESTIVE JUICES continue to rise ...
  
  This incense is strong stuff; it could choke a SMOG MONSTER ...
  
  The squishy flesh beneath you begins to heave and undulate! There is a mighty roar, and a sickly wet sound ...
  
  It's definitely the smoke from the VIRAXIAN INCENSE! This beast cannot bear the irritation in its unholy bowels! You suppose that you, too, are something of a bowel irritant.
  
  Suddenly, you are squeezed tight by the constricting walls, and you feel you may be crushed to death and dissolved at the same time ... but then you are free, flying damply through the air, for a wet landing back on land ...
  
  An elderly LIGHTHOUSE is here (you could go IN), warning ships against the dangers of the rocky coastline. This stretch includes some soft sand as well as rocks ... a small beach looking out on the SEA OF GREAT PERIL. Over some bluffs to the immediate south, you can hear the sounds of the SLAVER KING'S harbor town. To the east are some pines.
  
  > Inventory
  You bear the following (both on your person and stashed in your trusty THESKIAN DUFFEL BAG): a FLESH-TOTEM OF DARTH VIRAXIS, the EYEPATCH OF ODIN, a DELICATELY-OILED CLOTH, a SLAB OF SNOW-SERPENT MEAT, a TWO-HANDED SWORD (held at the ready), an EAR OF CORN, a SUIT OF CHAINMAIL ARMOR (being worn), a SUIT OF BURLAP ARMOR (currently un-used) and a FLASHLIGHT.
  
  > use EYEPATCH
  You have heard that the god ODIN gained wisdom for losing his eye, but it feels more to you like losing some of your balance and gaining a dangerous blind-side in combat! But you suppose it makes you look menacing.
  
  > go to the south
  This busy MARKETPLACE is the heart of the town, nestled against the mighty GATES of the CASTLE. You are careful to keep a low profile here, directly beneath the looming facade of the SLAVER KING'S own citadel.
  
  A lone GUARD stands watch before the GATES, staring ahead dutifully and ignoring the throng of the MARKETPLACE.
  
  > Go south
  You tread carefully, here. This is the city of the SLAVER KING, and he may have spies anywhere! Fortunately, the crowd here at the docks is a varied, noisy mass of people and creatures from all corners of Vanth. The MARKETPLACE further north surrounds the CASTLE entrance. The DARK ALLEYWAY immediately south might offer shelter if the guards come running.
  
  A GROUP OF PIRATES stands around the gangplank of a mighty PIRATE SHIP, deciding who may or may not go IN.
  
  One pirate hoists a small child - his son - to his shoulder, and points at you. "You see that man? Now that's a REAL pirate, not a scurvy old beggar like me. I want you to be just like 'im when you grows up, lad."
  
  > Go inside
  The jolly PIRATES wave merrily as you head up the gangplank, happy to see such a fine PIRATE as yourself among their company.
  
  Aboard the vessel there are few signs of life, only a single peg-legged DWARF, swabbing the deck with a combination CRUTCH and MOP. You note with curiosity that the DWARF also wears a heavy coat of CHAINMAIL, and something in his bearing suggests that he was once a Warrior, like you (of perhaps half your Level).
  
  The DWARF pauses from his chores for a moment to greet you. "Avast ye, me hearty! Me name's GUNWAR, what rhymes with HAR! Har."
  
  The ship is mostly deserted at the moment; the PIRATES are OUT on the quayside. The deck here is admirably stained with the blood of many a cutlass-duel, and littered with the usual ROPES and MASTS and nautical miscellany. Most of the hatches are securely locked, but you find one open passage leading downwards.
  
  GUNWAR the peg-legged DWARF is here, swabbing the deck.
  
  > Parley with GUNWAR
  "I've never eaten a BEE GIRL QUEEN myself, but I hear they're 81% tasty."
  
  > Parley with GUNWAR
  "Knew some LIMB TRADERS down along the SALTY COAST," says GUNWAR. "Good people."
  
  > Parley with GUNWAR
  You and GUNWAR compose a spontaneous dirty limerick about the perils of FRANKENSTEIN ARMOR.
  
  > regard the ropes
  The ship is well-provided with ROPES and MASTS and other NAUTICAL STUFF ... but you are an upland barbarian; it all means little to you.