text: > look around
  Under the Bridge (Tenth)
  The path along the river gives way to a crumbling stone embankment as it passes below the arch of the old stone bridge. A rusty metal hatch is set into the ground opposite from the river, and towards the end of the embankment, a derelict payphone squats, forgotten, under the shadow of the bridge. To the south, the path continues to follow the river.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  an old quarter
  an employee ID card
  a shard of shattered carapace
  a soggy tome
  a long hooked pole
  a grimy rock
  a dead battery
  a moldy, waterlogged journal
  a small, rectangular battery
  an antique locket (being worn and closed)
  The Dollmaker's Journal
  a repaired page
  a trolley schedule
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  Twin Hearts Between the Planes
  a pamphlet of home listings
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (open but empty)
  a book pocket (open)
  a postcard of Big Ben
  the diary of Phyllis Cragne
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three
  a side pocket (open but empty)
  a trash pocket (open but empty)
  a backpack features guide
  a book list
  a library card
  Peter's jacket
  a faint chill (haunting you)
  a cast iron spire
  a waterproof flashlight
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  a pull-string doll
  a glass jar containing an insect
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup
  a familiar gold wristwatch
  a brass winding key
  
  > read the grafitti
  It doesn't seem like there's a whole thesis here, but... at least an anthropology paper? You try to focus, finding yourself looking at "WINONA FOREVER", of which the "NA" has been cleverly scribbled over.
  
  > read the grafitti
  If you've learned one thing from this phone, it's to not hang out under a bridge with a bunch of miscreants. That's how you end up inscribed with an enthusiastic but flawed "ASE OF BASE" logo inside a jagged polygon.
  
  > read the grafitti
  You must have read everything... Or so you thought, but then you find a whole extra column of scribbles, starting with the phrase "BADMOTORFINGER", presented boldly and without comment.
  
  > read the grafitti
  The years have not been kind to this phone, nor was the person responsible for a crude horse, dog (or possibly alligator?) inexplicably labeled "SKANK".
  
  > put coin in the slot
  The coin clatters down into the depths of the machine. There is a buzzing and rattling deep inside, before a faint hiss of static becomes audible from the receiver.
  
  > get the receiver
  You pick up the receiver, trying not to look at the hundreds of tiny holes at both ends, or thinking about what might be inside them (especially as you hold them to your ear...)
  
  > call 258-0987
  As you dial the number, pressing the buttons down the middle row, and then across the next-to-last row, from left to right, you realize that you have made the sign of the cross on the keypad... But upside-down and backwards.
  
  It's pretty typical high-school occult bullshit, but before you can roll your eyes, the phone buzzes to life, and, as if from a great distance, you begin to hear ringing on the other end of the line.
  
  The ring repeats three times, and then stops, leaving you in an ominous silence. Even the restless sound of the river behind you has stopped, and you are suddenly conscious of how, facing the payphone, you've turned your back on the water.
  
  > hang up
  (the phone receiver)
  That number you dialed has done something... You're not quite sure what, but you're even less sure what'll happen if you hang up now.
  
  > look at the water
  The surface of the river has become completely still, like a mirror; You feel as though you could fall through it, into the blue sky beyond the bridge...
  
  The bridge in the reflection is sound and whole, new as the day it was built, and instead of rotting patches of concrete, the underside is covered in a colorful painted mural. Roughly oval in shape, it features a vivid green, eel-like creature with a wavy frill, curled around as though ready to bite its own tail. You don't totally follow the motto encircling it... Something about the commission of an officer? Or an office? But the words "Croceate" and "Variegated Court" stand out.
  
  You tear your eyes away from the mural, to the railing of the bridge, as a woman leans over the edge, wearing an old-fashioned hat...
  
  "VAAAAAAA!" shrieks the phone, causing you to jump and almost drop the receiver, "DIIIIIIIIIGH..."
  
  You frantically slam the phone back down into the cradle, out of sheer panic, and there is a loud splash behind you.
  
  > look at the water
  The surface of the river is white with foam, and splashes violently against the embankment, as though something large had just dove under the surface...
  
  > search it
  The river splashes fitfully against the crumbling stone of the embankment, dark and murky in the shadows. The wrinkled surface of the water yields a rough reflection, an animated expressionist painting of the bridge and sky above, except for where a trail of bubbles mars the view, as though something... large... had recently swum past.
  
  The bridge in the reflection is sound and whole, new as the day it was built, and instead of rotting patches of concrete, the underside is covered in a colorful painted mural. Roughly oval in shape, it features a vivid green, eel-like creature with a wavy frill, curled around as though ready to bite its own tail. You don't totally follow the motto encircling it... Something about the commission of an officer? Or an office? But the words "Croceate" and "Variegated Court" stand out.
  
  > look at the coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a biplane. 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.
  
  > Go south
  River Walk (Adam Whybray)
  A dirt path along the west bank of the Makaskuta - or Blackgourd - River. The air is motionless and sweltry, the urticariate heat drawing sweat profusely from your prickling glands.
  
  Just below you, to your side, the river burbles in vainglorious stupor, foaming in bright patches from the surfacants released from the rotting deposits of the red maples and poplars that line its banks. A single black ash, denuded of leaves, its corky bark blighted with the telltale signs of parasitic infection, quietly interrupts the Autumnal foliage of its deciduous cousins.
  
  The river's waters slith over rocks as lustrous-gray as seal skin, rending them freshly burnished for the mid-September sun, which casts Her rays in refulgent slats through the rust-honey colored trees. It is though Nature, in celebration of Her own fecundity, has chosen to offer Herself up in Equinoxical sacrifice - the rocks laid out before the blazing altar of the sun.
  
  There is a forbidding sign on the bank of the river.
  
  The way up to Backwater town square is northwest. Following the path north leads under the bridge.
  
  On the Makaskuta river is a buoy.
  
  You can also see a freshwater lobster trap (in which is an eggbound crawfish) and a shattered crawfish here.
  
  A mistlike trolley stop sign reads Aqua Line -- River Walk.
  
  > Go east
  Your feet finally touch down on some blackened shore and into some large subterrane. The slick black stone of the cavern arcs high above your head with strange formations that grow downwards and then out in oddly perpendicular angles. The damp rock moves in and out of focus as some pulsing green light illuminates the space.
  
  Taking a step, you feel the sand pulling at your shoes as though it were thick mud or quicksand. Your feet sink with every step, settling on some solid stone platform just beneath this layer of cloying sand that prevents you from being entirely swallowed.
  
  You pass between two monolithic pillars: oily green-black stone of a height that makes you dizzy to comprehend. Between them, a skeletal bridge stretches out across the chasm.
  
  The crossing spans a ravine of tumultuous water that roars like some uncaged beast and echoes around the cavern. Its Stygian call chills you and draws you in by equal measures as you take the first step onto the slats that form the bridge.
  
  Bridge (Daniel Stelzer and Jemma Briggeman)
  You are standing on a bridge spanning east to west in the middle of an echoing cavern. In the center of the bridge is a large ghastly sculpture constructed of pipes that climb up to a cauldron filled with an eerily glowing green moss, the only light source in the room. Beneath your feet you can hear the crashing of the river below. Ahead of you, to your horror, there are slats missing on the bridge - you'll never make it across without replacing them.
  
  On the gap in the bridge are some flat bones.
  
  The rope lies abandoned on the ground in a tangle, one end tied to the bridge, the other to some metallic contraption.
  
  > go to the east
  Outside Pub (Jason Lautzenheiser)
  As the street runs east through this side of town, it narrows as the jagged rooftops on either side of the road reach out to each other. To the north is the pub. You can continue to the west where you see a bridge. As you pause on the narrow brick sidewalk which lays unevenly along the ugly, half-crumbling brick walls, you hear a train whistle in the distance. A sign hangs loosely above the pub entrance and to the side is a murky window.
  
  You can see a newspaper box and a rusty piece of metal here.
  
  > look at the box
  The metal paperbox has a door, with a foggy glass window through which you can still see some of the newspapers inside. There is a large handle that would be used to open the box and beside the handle is a coin slot and a faded sign that reads "25 cents." One of the legs of the rusted paperbox has broken away and has left the newspaper box leaning at an angle. A rusty bar of metal, which appears to be the remains of the leg, lies on the sidewalk.
  
  In the newspaper box are some yellowed newspapers.
  
  > examine the newspapers
  Through the foggy window you can just make out part of the headline, "Ful... Court ....Dead."
  
  > Go west
  Your feet finally touch down on some blackened shore and into some large subterrane. The slick black stone of the cavern arcs high above your head with strange formations that grow downwards and then out in oddly perpendicular angles. The damp rock moves in and out of focus as some pulsing green light illuminates the space.
  
  Taking a step, you feel the sand pulling at your shoes as though it were thick mud or quicksand. Your feet sink with every step, settling on some solid stone platform just beneath this layer of cloying sand that prevents you from being entirely swallowed.
  
  You pass between two monolithic pillars: oily green-black stone of a height that makes you dizzy to comprehend. Between them, a skeletal bridge stretches out across the chasm.
  
  The crossing spans a ravine of tumultuous water that roars like some uncaged beast and echoes around the cavern. Its Stygian call chills you and draws you in by equal measures as you take the first step onto the slats that form the bridge.
  
  Bridge (Daniel Stelzer and Jemma Briggeman)
  You are standing on a bridge spanning east to west in the middle of an echoing cavern. In the center of the bridge is a large nameless sculpture constructed of pipes that climb up to a cauldron filled with an eerily glowing green moss, the only light source in the room. Beneath your feet you can hear the crashing of the river below. Ahead of you, to your horror, there are slats missing on the bridge - you'll never make it across without replacing them.
  
  On the gap in the bridge are some flat bones.
  
  The rope lies abandoned on the ground in a tangle, one end tied to the bridge, the other to some metallic contraption.
  
  > go southeast
  River Walk (Adam Whybray)
  A dirt path along the west bank of the Makaskuta - or Blackgourd - River. The air is motionless and sweltry, the urticariate heat drawing sweat profusely from your prickling glands.
  
  Just below you, to your side, the river burbles in vainglorious stupor, foaming in bright patches from the surfacants released from the rotting deposits of the red maples and poplars that line its banks. A single black ash, denuded of leaves, its corky bark blighted with the telltale signs of parasitic infection, quietly interrupts the Autumnal foliage of its deciduous cousins.
  
  The river's waters slith over rocks as lustrous-gray as seal skin, rending them freshly burnished for the mid-September sun, which casts Her rays in refulgent slats through the rust-honey colored trees. It is though Nature, in celebration of Her own fecundity, has chosen to offer Herself up in Equinoxical sacrifice - the rocks laid out before the blazing altar of the sun.
  
  There is a forbidding sign on the bank of the river.
  
  The way up to Backwater town square is northwest. Following the path north leads under the bridge.
  
  On the Makaskuta river is a buoy.
  
  You can also see a freshwater lobster trap (in which is an eggbound crawfish) and a shattered crawfish here.
  
  An ethereal trolley stop sign reads Aqua Line -- River Walk.
  
  > Go south
  River Walk (Adam Whybray)
  A dirt path along the west bank of the Makaskuta - or Blackgourd - River. The air is motionless and sweltry, the urticariate heat drawing sweat profusely from your prickling glands.
  
  Just below you, to your side, the river burbles in vainglorious stupor, foaming in bright patches from the surfacants released from the rotting deposits of the red maples and poplars that line its banks. A single black ash, denuded of leaves, its corky bark blighted with the telltale signs of parasitic infection, quietly interrupts the Autumnal foliage of its deciduous cousins.
  
  The river's waters slith over rocks as lustrous-gray as seal skin, rending them freshly burnished for the mid-September sun, which casts Her rays in refulgent slats through the rust-honey colored trees. It is though Nature, in celebration of Her own fecundity, has chosen to offer Herself up in Equinoxical sacrifice - the rocks laid out before the blazing altar of the sun.
  
  There is a forbidding sign on the bank of the river.
  
  The way up to Backwater town square is northwest. Following the path north leads under the bridge.
  
  On the Makaskuta river is a buoy.
  
  You can also see a freshwater lobster trap (in which is an eggbound crawfish) and a shattered crawfish here.
  
  A noncorporeal trolley stop sign reads Aqua Line -- River Walk.
  
  > Go east
  Your feet finally touch down on some blackened shore and into some large subterrane. The slick black stone of the cavern arcs high above your head with strange formations that grow downwards and then out in oddly perpendicular angles. The damp rock moves in and out of focus as some pulsing green light illuminates the space.
  
  Taking a step, you feel the sand pulling at your shoes as though it were thick mud or quicksand. Your feet sink with every step, settling on some solid stone platform just beneath this layer of cloying sand that prevents you from being entirely swallowed.
  
  You pass between two monolithic pillars: oily green-black stone of a height that makes you dizzy to comprehend. Between them, a skeletal bridge stretches out across the chasm.
  
  The crossing spans a ravine of tumultuous water that roars like some uncaged beast and echoes around the cavern. Its Stygian call chills you and draws you in by equal measures as you take the first step onto the slats that form the bridge.
  
  Bridge (Daniel Stelzer and Jemma Briggeman)
  You are standing on a bridge spanning east to west in the middle of an echoing cavern. In the center of the bridge is a large detestable sculpture constructed of pipes that climb up to a cauldron filled with an eerily glowing green moss, the only light source in the room. Beneath your feet you can hear the crashing of the river below. Ahead of you, to your horror, there are slats missing on the bridge - you'll never make it across without replacing them.
  
  On the gap in the bridge are some flat bones.
  
  The rope lies abandoned on the ground in a tangle, one end tied to the bridge, the other to some metallic contraption.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a rusty piece of metal
  an employee ID card
  a shard of shattered carapace
  a soggy tome
  a long hooked pole
  a grimy rock
  a dead battery
  a moldy, waterlogged journal
  a small, rectangular battery
  an antique locket (being worn and closed)
  The Dollmaker's Journal
  a repaired page
  a trolley schedule
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  Twin Hearts Between the Planes
  a pamphlet of home listings
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (open but empty)
  a book pocket (open)
  a postcard of Big Ben
  the diary of Phyllis Cragne
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three
  a side pocket (open but empty)
  a trash pocket (open but empty)
  a backpack features guide
  a book list
  a library card
  Peter's jacket
  a faint chill (haunting you)
  a cast iron spire
  a waterproof flashlight
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  a pull-string doll
  a glass jar containing an insect
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup
  a familiar gold wristwatch
  a brass winding key
  
  > put the library card in the side pocket
  You put the library card into the side pocket.
  
  > close side pocket
  You close the side pocket.