text: [Themes: Fantasy, male protagonist, culinary theme, France, strong NPCs]
  
  > Go downward
  Darkness presses in on every side; nothing is visible, and you are sure only of your own possessions.
  
  > 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.
  
  > link door to the teapot
  Bending your will, you form the link between the double doors and the hinge-lidded teapot.
  
  > 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.
  
  > take the stone
  (putting the white handkerchief into the sack to make room)
  Taken.
  
  > 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.
  
  > 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).
  
  > 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.
  
  > enter the fireplace
  You get into the fireplace.
  
  > look at the brick
  A reddish-brown brick darkened by smoke, and pushed forward from its position among the others.
  
  > link the brick to the stone
  Bending your will, you form the link between the brick and the stone block.
  
  > break the stone
  With your bare hands? That could be uncomfortable.
  
  > take the stone
  Taken.
  
  > throw the stone at wall
  (the wall)
  The stone block hurls through the air, smacks the wall, and falls on the ground.
  
  > hit the brick with the stone
  (first taking the stone block)
  From here you cannot reach the stone block.
  
  > 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.
  
  > enter the fireplace
  You get into the fireplace.
  
  > 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.
  
  > 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.
  
  > 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.