text: > describe your surroundings
  MASTER BEDROOM (ROWAN LIPKOVITS)
  Here we have the master bedroom of Cragne Manor, which is by turns contradictorily capacious and cramped. Though you can't put your finger on it, something about this windowless chamber sucks the very air out of your lungs and puts you on edge. One would have to be a master indeed to achieve any rest in this offputting room.
  
  Though it is relatively sparsely furnished, it wouldn't be much of a bedoom without a bed -- and there it is, a four-poster tall, dingy, imposing and unsettling. Next to it is a bedside table, on which resides some torturously elongated lamp -- apparently the dim room's only light source, currently turned off.
  
  To the west is the hallway door through which you first arrived, and to the east there is also a door to what is most likely a walk-in closet.
  
  > examine the lamp
  (the waterproof flashlight (smelling faintly of mildew))
  A small flashlight, with a rubber ring where it screws together to keep the water out-though some oily substance coats the inside.
  
  Inside the flashlight is a clump of glowing vegetation.
  
  > examine elongated lamp
  Due to the peculiar shape of the bedside lamp and the unusual angle at which the table supports it, you are unable to interact with the lamp without first being in the bed, so in you go!
  
  (sitting on the bed first)
  
  You warily sidle up to the uncomfortable-looking grey bed and briefly perch on its (now confirmed-uncomfortable) edge. It's a bedroom, the bed is its central, nay defining feature -- why not try out the bed, right? Worked out OK for Goldilocks, didn't it? Well, turns out this would have been a bad idea had you thought of doing it instead of momentarily losing agency and having it done on your behalf. Right in the middle of ... whatever it was you were trying to accomplish anyway, you're hit by an invisible wave that feels like a Mack truck pulling a tractor trailer full of fatigue, you briefly lose consciousness and collapse as a veil of sooty burlap is dragged across your field of vision and a thousand thousand chittering things argue spiritedly at the periphery of your mind.
  
  > Go east
  (first getting off the bed)
  (first opening closet door)
  
  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.
  
  > 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.
  
  > look at the shelves
  You can't see how these strangely tilted shelves are staying upright and together, but it's lucky for you that they are, as the piles of clothes and forgotten possessions would bury you if they failed. Their contents are piled high to the point that the ceiling is obscured.
  
  > open the drawer
  Which do you mean, the upper drawer, the middle drawer or the lower drawer?
  
  > Upper
  You open the upper drawer.
  
  > examine it
  The upper drawer is empty.
  
  > open middle drawer
  You open the middle drawer.
  
  > examine it
  The middle drawer is empty.
  
  > open the lower drawer
  You open the lower drawer.
  
  > look at it
  The lower drawer is empty.
  
  > go west
  MASTER BEDROOM (ROWAN LIPKOVITS)
  Here we have the master bedroom of Cragne Manor, which is by turns contradictorily capacious and cramped. Though you can't put your finger on it, something about this windowless chamber sucks the very air out of your lungs and puts you on edge. One would have to be a master indeed to achieve any rest in this offputting room.
  
  Though it is relatively sparsely furnished, it wouldn't be much of a bedoom without a bed -- and there it is, a four-poster tall, dingy, imposing and unsettling. Next to it is a bedside table, on which resides some torturously elongated lamp -- apparently the dim room's only light source, currently turned off.
  
  To the west is the hallway door through which you first arrived, and to the east there is also a door to what is most likely a walk-in closet.
  
  > Go west
  Upstairs Hall, north end (Jason Love)
  Imposing wooden doors lead north to the nursery (which is open) and east to the master bedroom (which is also open); a smaller doorway between them has been closed off with badly painted bricks. The top of the stairs is accessible through a narrow arch to the west, and the hall continues to the south.
  
  The broken doors to the armoire lie on the floor near the center of the room.
  
  The doorless armoire stands against the north-west wall. There's nothing inside.
  
  > go south
  The threadbare carpet holds only the vaguest hints of its original hue, and the yellowing wallpaper is crisscrossed with a web of cracks. The hole that you tore through the wallpaper emits a gentle light. The hallway continues to the north, and there are doors leading to the west, south, and east.
  
  A sudden sparking noise echoes inside the hole.
  
  The hallway fills with a flash of light and shadows flee down the hall. Moments later the clap of thunder causes the entire house to shake and groan.
  
  > go to the south
  Balcony (Reina Adair)
  The balcony has definitely seen better days. Once it was more than likely a fine place to sit and look out over the skyline or whatever one desired to do out here. However, its charm has been lost with the passage of time. The wood, once more than likely shiny and well polished, is now rotten and peeling in various spots. Somehow, despite the way the architecture has aged, the railing at the end of the balcony itself is still somewhat sturdy. All around, the view of the scenery is breathtaking, albeit somewhat unsettling for some reason. Occasionally, a slight breeze blows past you, but you can't tell if its supposed to be warm or cool. The only exit from here is to the north.
  
  A statue with a very strange appearance to it is standing here, almost as if it is watching the area.
  
  A phantom trolley stop sign reads Lavender Line -- Cragne Manor Balcony.
  
  > wait for the black Line
  You lean against the wooden door, hold out your pass, and wait for the black line. Within moments, a spectral trolley arrives. Instead of stopping and allowing you to board, it passes through you,
  and you find yourself transported to
  
  As you descend the unsteady ladder, a piercing shriek freezes you to your core. Perhaps it is merely pressure being released from some ill-maintained valve in the boiler room above. Perhaps it is something else, waiting in the darkness below.
  
  Malign Tunnel (Damon L. Wakes)
  The space beneath the boiler room is damp and narrow, little more than a dogleg corridor set into the earth. Something about its shape, its proportions, is deeply unsettling to you. There is a rusting iron ladder leading to the floor above, and a green door leading to the southwest, its paint flaking onto the uneven stone floor. The curving brick walls on either side of you arc gracefully inwards to form a vaulted ceiling. You would be able to stand comfortably were it not for the pipes that stretch like tendons above your head.
  
  An ethereal trolley stop sign reads Black Line -- Underground.
  
  > go upwards
  Boiler Room (Eric W. Brown)
  The western side of this windowless brick room is dominated by a huge boiler connected to a confusing network of pipes that eventually delivers heat to the rest of the manor. Between the unpleasant humming, the smell of fuel oil, and the heat leaking out, the boiler is leaving you feeling a little lightheaded.
  
  As noticeable as it is, the boiler is hardly the only item of interest. Crammed around it are many devices, at least four of which are clearly bigger and heavier than you. Next to the open doorway leading north there is a keypunch. There's a support column in the middle of the room with a system diagram on it, and lashed to the column there is a faraday cage with a window on its door looking inside. Next to it is a an overlay engine, and behind it a a dimensional stabilizer. Beyond a heavy-duty table near the southwest corner there is a rough hole in the floor, and the surface of the table is dominated by the control panel for the whole system. There is a small steel shelf high on the wall way above the table, and a fluorescent work light above that. On the wall opposite the faraday cage there is a sign hanging from a chain.
  
  It looks like the room has hardly been disturbed in decades, and your presence has kicked up a sizable amount of dust. Although there are some cobwebs, you don't see any spiders. Maybe they got fed up with some combination of the loud noises, bad smells, choking dust, and miserable heat and went someplace nicer.
  
  > go to the north
  Something tells you that Edwin Cragne really would not want you to take his secrets out of this room and that you really ought to leave the journal in the boiler room.
  
  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.
  
  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 coffee
  The swirls in your cup form a gentle ripple. 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.