text: [Themes: Fantasy, female protagonist, fantasy]
  
  > press the green
  When this story began, it began this way....
  
  In a place that was no place at all, three presences gathered. One was dead, one would never die, and one existed somewhere in between.
  
  The Undying commanded the ghost, *Speak, as you spoke to me.*
  
  The ghost, a translucent, haggard man, showed fear in every quiver of his insubstantial being, yet he spoke before the Presences. "My lords, when I was born, a geas and star were cast upon my path. There was a deed that I was fated to do, yet I was torn from life before it could be completed. This was not in the stars, and it was not in my fate, yet it came to be. I have been wronged."
  
  *You have been wronged.*  It was the Other, and each word twisted the shape of the ghost's existence. *Yet past is past, and done is done. You cannot return to life. You must go on.*
  
  *Yet who could alter what I set into motion?*  The Undying's words were stern, and, like the Other's words, they beat upon the ghost and caused the ghost to vibrate like a bell. *There are few who could change this soul's path, and only one who would. There must be an answer for this.*
  
  *We will answer between ourselves, then,* said the Other. *It is nothing to this ghost. I will send him on his way.*
  
  *No,* said the Undying.
  
  There was a pause.
  
  *no?* said the Other, and, with that soft syllable, a cold wind raced over every leaf in some faraway forest.
  
  *No,* said the Undying. *For he accepted his path and his fate, and, in accepting, he gave all that he was. Mortal though he is, he lost all, and he has earned protection. In the name of the King, I claim his redemption.*
  
  *What is dead is dead, and dead shall not breathe,* the Other said indifferently. *He is lost, and he rots beneath the stones.*
  
  *But I will mark his path again,* said the Undying. *And I will set another upon that path, and I will send this ghost to watch over his successor. If his successor accepts the path as deeply and fully as he, then that one will reap where this one has sowed. And I call upon you to witness and to obey.*
  
  There was a silence like the silence before a storm, when the very sky draws breath, but there was no sky in this place that was not a place.
  
  *Set your star upon his successor, but leave your geas upon this ghost,* the Other said. *What you have done shall not be undone, but I, too, have my rights. I, too, am among the stars, though I stretch beyond them as well.*
  
  *You are among the stars,* said the Undying. *I accept your obedience, and I accept your claim.*
  
  The Other considered. *Then this path is mine, as well, to shape. A little.*
  
  *A little,* the Undying acceded.
  
  The Other turned its attention to the ghost. *We will choose, you and I, until the clay of your successor's being is created. This, I will choose first: your successor's gender. She will be she, as you have been he, thus creating balance. Balance,* the Other added to the Undying, not unsardonically, *is of the essence.*
  
  *So let it be,* the Undying replied blandly. Then, to the ghost: *It is your choice, now.*
  
  And in the place that was no place, a concept came, and another, until nine concepts were arrayed before the ghost. The ghost perceived these nine:
  
  a spiderweb - the concept of Agility
  a dandelion - the concept of Endurance
  a book - the concept of Brilliance
  a mask - the concept of Cunning
  a candle - the concept of Awareness
  a crown - the concept of Presence
  a rose - the concept of Guile
  a jewel - the concept of Serenity
  
  *Choose,* said the Undying, *and what you choose will be born in your successor.*
  
  There was no up, no down, no north, no south, no dawn, and no dusk. This was a place that is no place at all. The passing of time itself was all but meaningless -- yet there was meaning in the passage of time; not much, but enough that three presences gathered here meaningfully, and enough that they could converse.
  
  The ghost perceived a sword, a spiderweb, a dandelion, a book, a mask, a candle, a crown, a rose, and a jewel.
  
  > choose the book
  The ghost hesitated for a long moment before reaching out to choose the book.
  
  The Other said, *Brilliance. As you will. In return, I choose Awareness.*
  
  To the ghost, the Undying said, *Your successor will have Brilliance. She will think methodically but clearly, and she will see through those who would confuse her mind with Cunning. But one who is Aware will endure against her and see the end of her road before she can reach it.*
  
  The book, mask, and candle faded from the ghost's perception. The sword, the spiderweb, the dandelion, the crown, the rose, and the jewel remained.
  
  *Choose again,* said the Undying, *and what you choose will be born in your successor.*
  
  > choose the rose
  The ghost hesitated for a long moment before reaching out to choose the rose.
  
  The Other said, *Guile shall be hers. In return, I choose Presence.*
  
  To the ghost, the Undying said, *Your successor will have Guile. She will be subtle and strong in persuasion, and those with Serenity will yield before her, convinced her aims are their own. But one with Presence will entrance her to follow a new banner and forget her own will.*
  
  The rose, crown, and jewel faded from the ghost's perception. The sword, the spiderweb, and the dandelion remained.
  
  *Choose again,* said the Undying, *and what you choose will be born in your successor.*
  
  > choose the dandelion
  The ghost hesitated for a long moment before reaching out to choose the dandelion.
  
  The Other said, *Endurance. So be it. In return, I choose Agility.
  
  To the ghost, the Undying said, *Your successor will have Endurance. She will have stamina and resilence, and she will endure every blow heaped upon her by one with Power. But one with Agility will find her secret weaknesses, and her body will fail first.*
  
  The sword, spiderweb, and dandelion faded from the ghost's perception. *We have determined her heart and her mind and the strengths of her body,* said the Undying. *Now we shall determine the shape of this body.*  And it seemed to the ghost, then, that five pieces of wood appeared before him, each different in hue: birch, ash, maple, rosewood, and ebony.
  
  *Choose,* the Undying said to the ghost, *and all will see your choice upon her skin.*
  
  > look at the maple
  The maple wood is golden and burnished to a rich shine.
  
  > choose the maple
  The ghost hesitated for a long moment before reaching out to choose the piece of maple.
  
  The other four woods faded away, leaving only the piece of maple. Upon the piece of maple, the ghost perceived an indistinct, eyeless face.
  
  The Undying gestured again, and now seven small gems materialized: a ruby, a topaz, an emerald, a sapphire, an amethyst, a tiger eye agate, and a small dark diamond.
  
  *Choose,* the Undying said to the ghost, *and all will see your choice in her gaze.*
  
  > look at the amethyst
  Purple, faceted, and sparkling, the amethyst attracts the eye.
  
  > examine the sapphire
  Light and dark blue coruscate through the center of the gem.
  
  > look at the diamond
  Dark rainbows decorate the depths of the black jewel.
  
  > look at the emerald
  A grass green star hovers just off the surface of the emerald.
  
  > ask undying about the gems
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > examine the topaz
  Sharp yellow light glints through the topaz's depths.
  
  > choose the ruby
  The ghost hesitated for a long moment before reaching out to choose the ruby.
  
  The other six gems faded away, leaving only the ruby. It wavered and twinned, and then the pieces of ruby fused with the face of tan wood, shining softly in the place that was not a place. Yet the face was incomplete, and the Other contemplated it.
  
  *I choose... this,* said the Other.
  
  And with the Other's words, a change came over the face, which became covered in downy fur. The nose and mouth elongated into a snout, and small fangs appeared beneath the lips. The face lost its indistinctness to become that of a chirop -- one of the spindly children of the mountains. Her fur was as tan as a piece of polished maple, and her eyes were as crimson as two crimson rubies, with the light of intelligence shining in their depths. Her expression was secretive, and she looked healthy and well-fed.
  
  > About yourself
  *It is done,* said the Undying. *There will come a day when my star marks her sky, and when that time comes, it will be the time of your geas once more. Then you will be free to guide her, and if she walks upon the true path, then she will gain all that you should have gained.*
  
  *Or lose,* said the Other, *all that you should have lost --*  And for a moment, the words that shook the ghost's very substance carried something like sorrow and something like pain, made brighter by the light of life so near, the touch of death so far.
  
  *But for now,* said the Undying, in a way that could not be denied, *you will wait --*
  
  And, bound by the power of a word and a star, the ghost slept, and the world changed in many ways before he wakened.
  
  Phoenix's Landing: Destiny
  
  Much later, and in a place that was far more real, a young chirop ventured from home with her tradefather for the very first time. She knew nothing of stars, geasa, ghosts, Presences, or anything else except that she was very proud to be along on this trip.
  
  Unfortunately, while she knew nothing of the stars, they knew something of her....
  
  It's the first time that you've been allowed to travel on a trading mission. All your life has been secluded within the confines of a mountain cavern-town far to the west, but this year, your creche-fathers agreed that you should accompany your tradefather instead of the assistant that your tradefather normally hires for the journey.
  
  After weeks of travel (first down the rocky slopes and through rambling hills, and then through the twisting, shadowy forests) you get your first real look at the city of Phoenix's Landing. Above the tall stone walls, you can see the tops of the buildings. Two towers at the center rise highest of all, and, from your tradefather's stories over the years, you recognize them immediately as the temple to Ivrul and the governance hall. Golden fields border the city to the west and south, with a few small buildings clumped here and there. The dark face of Char Cliff rises above it to the north, marking the base of First Mountain.
  
  When you raise your eyes to First Mountain, the city seems no larger than a child's city built from shards of fallen stone. The city nestles beneath the cliff as a pup to its mother, yet it is larger than any city you have ever seen. You have no plans to visit the chiroptera here, but you know that other creche-clans dwell in the range beyond Char Cliff, and the thought is oddly comforting.
  
  But -- the city! You can see it more clearly, now, and excitement bubbles up within you.
  
  To journey through the shadowy forests, you joined a caravan, and now the mounted guardsmen scatter forward and back, tending to their various claims since the forest's dangers are receding away. The boredom of the past week fades as you bounce slightly on the seat of your wagon and strain to see more.
  
  Each wagon has to pause for inspection at the guard house on the near side of the bridge.
  
  You are far enough back in the line of wagons to grow deeply impatient as you wait for your opportunity to enter the city. Once the wagon has been inspected, it clatters over the broad, flat bridge and passes through the gates into the milling city beyond. You catch only a few brief glimpses of the buildings beyond.
  
  Then it is your turn. Your wagon rolls forward over the rutted road and halts. "Inspection," the shaghal guard growls. "All parties present themselves."
  
  At your father's signal, you hop down from the wagon.
  
  Most of the other wagons have already passed over the bridge, but a few wait patiently behind yours. Before you, a broad, sturdy bridge stretches over a wide and rather dubious-looking river. Beyond the bridge, the gate of Phoenix's Landing gapes open to receive you.
  
  Father is here with you, which is rather a relief. The city looks awfully large this close up.
  
  The large shaghal guard stands here inspecting wagons and merchants before he approves them to enter the city.
  
  Father says quietly, "Achatli, this should only take a moment, but please be on your best behavior."
  I beg your pardon?
  
  > examine the river
  A faint swirl of grease drifts over the surface of the murky grey water.
  
  > look at the bridge
  The bridge is almost as dusty as the road.
  
  The guard approaches Father, identifies himself as Greshen, and demands both of your names, which your father supplies. Greshen nods slightly in reply.
  (You memorize Greshen's name for future reference.)
  
  > look at Father
  You take a moment to study your clan's tradefather -- the one who interacts with other races and visits cities beyond the chirop mountains of your home. He is your true father as well, but this is much less important than his position in the creche-clan, and you tend to forget about it from time to time. Despite this, you have always been pleased by your resemblance to one another -- you share his tan fur and crimson eyes. Someday, he will retire. Because you are female, you could never hold the title of tradefather in a creche-clan, but you can hope for enough training that you can spend your life traveling and bartering. Maybe you will even serve the creche-clan in your tradefather's stead for a time. It is a slim hope, but a hope.
  
  Greshen inspects the contents of your father's wagon.
  
  > Oops greshen
  Shaghal are the furred people of the plains and valleys. They typically have brown or black fur and brown, black, amber, green, or dark blue eyes, although the occasional specimen displays an unsettling crimson hue. Shaghal have two arms, two legs, and walk upright, as all people do, but their faces are distinctly canine, with short muzzles, black noses, and white, sharp teeth, rather like jackals or wolves.
  The resemblance is enhanced by triangular ears set high atop the skull and a plumed tail. For all of that, their hands are five-fingered and dextrous, and you know better than to underestimate their intelligence.
  
  This particular shaghal has mahogany brown fur and dark amber eyes. He carries a short, heavy staff wrapped in leather in one hand, and he also bears a curved axe at his hip. He displays the scarlet and silver crest of Phoenix's Landing on his shoulder.
  
  Greshen seems to be taking an awfully long time with his inspection.
  
  > talk to Father
  His attention is on Greshen and he doesn't want to be disturbed.
  
  Greshen finishes his inspection and turns to your father. "Everything seems to be in order here," he says.
  
  "I'm glad to hear it," Father replies.
  
  > examine the crest
  The crest of Phoenix's Landing is a flame-wreathed scarlet bird silhouetted on a bright silver mountain, all set on a field of black. The crest appears on the shoulder of this jerkin.
  
  For the first time, Greshen's amber gaze slides over your face as he looks away from Father. One of his ears twitches, and he looks surprised. Instead of saying anything, though, he rummages in his vest for a piece of paper. After scrutinizing the paper for a long moment, he stares intently into your eyes, and then he shakes his head.
  "You'll have to wait here for a moment," he says, and signals to a human guard standing closer to the gate. The human guard nods briefly and goes into the city with a purposeful air.
  
  > think about Greshen
  Greshen is a shaghal guard in Phoenix's Landing.
  
  > think about Father
  The other races are unfortunate to have only one father apiece. Like any other chirop born to a healthy creche-clan, you have five fathers, all well beloved: your lorefather, your lawfather, your lifefather, your hearthfather, and your tradefather. Yet you are more like your tradefather than any other of your fathers, and you know he is your blood-father as well. You have a special closeness to him, and it is a deep privilege to go on this journey with him. Your tradefather's role as a father is to teach you and your siblings about how to interact with the other races, and his duty as a member of the clan is to trade so that the clan will prosper.
  
  > ask Greshen about the paper
  Father might be annoyed if you did that.
  
  A graceful chirop priest strides through the gate. He glances about briefly before Greshen beckons him over.
  
  "Eyes of Justice," Greshen says respectfully. "There was a missive that came out, and I think...." Instead of finishing the sentence, he shows the slightly crumpled piece of paper to the young priest.
  
  The priest peruses the paper and then looks down at you.
  
  > think about the humans
  Humans are the populous people of the oceans. They have two arms, two legs, and walk upright, as all people do. Their skin is normally light or dark brown, though there are paler or darker exceptions, and they have eyes in a wide variety of colors. Although both genders grow hair from the tops of their heads, human men can be readily distinguished from human women because the women do not grow fur on their faces. Although they appear weak and unprotected, they are surprisingly versatile and thrive in a variety of enviroments.
  
  "A greeting to you, in virtue and honor," the priest says. "I understand your name is Achatli. Is this your first time in the city of Phoenix's Landing?"
  
  [1] "It is true. I have never been here before."
  [2] "Of course not. I am well familiar with the city."
  [3] "What's your name?"
  
  > 3
  "I do have the advantage of you, and I can see that you feel that's unfair," the priest says. "As you will. I am Hachachi of the Stars. And now you will answer my question, perhaps?"
  
  (You memorize Hachachi's name for future reference.)
  [1] "It is true. I have never been here before."
  [2] "Of course not. I am well familiar with the city."
  
  > 1
  Hachachi nods. "I hope you like it here. Before I can permit you into the city, though, my superior -- High Caerwyn of the Stars -- requests to meet with you. I trust you have no objection?"
  
  [1] "It would be my pleasure."
  [2] "That seems all right...."
  [3] "Is there another way?"
  
  > 3
  Hachachi frowns slightly. Turning to your father, he explains, "It is merely a precaution, but there is an omen about a girl with the markings and hue of this child, and we expect the one we seek before the moon's cycle ends. I wouldn't worry," he adds, "but it really is important that High Caerwyn inspects her."
  
  Father hesitates for a long moment. Greshen tenses slightly in response to Father's tension, and for a moment, you fear something horrible will happen, but then Father says, "All right. I'll be with her, of course."
  
  Hachachi nods. Turning to Greshen, Hachachi says, "Please take this wagon to the side and ensure that it remains safe. We should return within the hour, but there's no need to block traffic."
  
  Leaving the wagon behind, you cross the broad bridge and enter the vast city from its western gate. "This is West Flame Gate," Hachachi says conversationally, "and people call this neighborhood the Silver District. You'll bring your wagon through this way later this evening. Over there is the Full Cup, a very good inn -- I recommend the ale highly."
  
  He continues to converse as you move through the city, but the sound flows around you like the mountain wind -- present, but disregarded. You pay more attention to the various wagons in the market square you pass, to the way passersby part for the young priest, to the low buildings on all sides, and to the people -- so many people! You have never seen so many people in all your life, let alone all in one place. From your father's past stories, you know that this was once a chirop town, but that many humans and shaghal moved here as the city grew in prominence, and now it is a notable center of trade.
  
  In your heart, you had somehow pictured a town like your home, but the buildings surrounding you are very different from the caves where you grew up. You did not know there were so many chirop clans in all the world, and here, those clanmembers mingle with an equal number of humans and scattered groups of shaghal. You are comforted by the presence of your father.
  
  Looking forward, you see a bridge at the end of the street, and, beyond that bridge, you see a white spire that can only be the governance hall. The governance hall and the temple of Ivrul are placed upon an island at the center of the city, and now, you are close enough to glimpse sunlight sparkling off the surrounding waters.
  
  A wide-shouldered human woman stands to the left of the bridge's base. Like the shaghal guard at the gate, she bears the scarlet and silver crest of Phoenix's Landing on one shoulder, though she carries a spear instead of an axe. Hachachi nods a greeting to the human guard, who nods briefly in return and gestures you across the bridge.
  
  There are tiled paths here rather than cobbled streets, and Hachachi turns left along one of those paths, guiding you past the governance building and toward four buildings standing in a cluster. The tallest of these by far is the silver spire that you saw before, which you recognized as the spire of Ivrul of the Mists. That, however, is not your destination. Instead, the priest escorts you to a stately building of grey marble, and you walk beneath an archway marked with a silver star. This is the temple of Ferran of the Stars.
  
  Beyond the archway is a courtyard, and you pass through the courtyard, through the doors, and down a short hall before entering a silver-walled chamber. The most noteable feature of the room is a stunning blue tapestry depicting a heron among reeds. A human woman garbed in black leather is seated to one side.
  
  > bow to the woman
  With your father at your side, you enter. Behind you, Hachachi says respectfully, "High Caerwyn, I present Achatli for your examination." (You memorize High Caerwyn's name for future reference.)
  High Caerwyn nods. "Thank you, Hachachi. I will summon you when it is time."
  Hachachi steps back into the hall and closes the door gently behind him.
  
  The chamber is dominated by a wide tapestry hanging opposite the door. In shades of blue, black, silver, and gold, it depicts a magnificent heron standing among reeds and gazing skyward toward a night filled with stars. The walls are panelled in dark wood with a subtle silver shimmer. A massive black cabinet stands to one side, and a matching table has been positioned among four chairs at the center of the room.
  
  High Caerwyn is sitting on the tall chair positioned in front of the tapestry.
  I beg your pardon?
  
  > think about the names
  Your thoughts circle without profit.
  
  > examine Achatli
  There is no reflective surface nearby in which you can get a proper look at yourself. However, despite your best efforts to remain tidy, your fur is dusty from the road, and you are not completely comfortable with your current appearance. You would definitely welcome the opportunity to tidy up.
  
  Father has promised that opportunity once you are safely inside the city, which is another reason to hope for speed.
  
  > examine Caerwyn
  Humans are the populous people of the oceans. They have two arms, two legs, and walk upright, as all people do. Their skin is normally light or dark brown, though there are paler or darker exceptions, and they have eyes in a wide variety of colors. Although both genders grow hair from the tops of their heads, human men can be readily distinguished from human women because the women do not grow fur on their faces. Although they appear weak and unprotected, they are surprisingly versatile and thrive in a variety of enviroments.
  
  High Caerwyn is garbed in a fitted, coal black leather vest over an equally dark cloth shirt. Her ankle-length skirt is similarly made of fine leather, and it has been split up each side to allow for maximum freedom of motion. A tear-shaped medallion hangs upon her brow from a fine silver chain, and several necklaces ornamented with various sigils encircle her throat. The overall effect is ornate and militant at the same time, and not at all what you expected, though you have rarely encountered worshippers of Ferran of the Stars.
  
  "Achatli, be welcome," High Caerwyn greets you. "I am Caerwyn, the High Priestess of Ferran of the Stars. Tell me, what do you know about the Divine Judge?"
  
  [1] Tell Caerwyn in detail what the chiroptera teach about Ferran.
  [2] Claim to know nothing about Ferran.
  
  > 2
  "The easiest way to show you is to do it," High Caerwyn says. From a concealed pocket in her skirt, she takes a polished wooden case no larger than her palm. When she opens the case, she reveals a set of onyx stones, each carved with a rune, and a folded square of blue silk. She spreads the silk across the chair at her side. "I will need a strand of your hair," High Caerwyn says. You draw your fingers through your hair, coming away with a single strand, and pass it to her. She loops the strand of hair end-to-end, forming a circle upon the silk.
  
  High Caerwyn closes the case and rattles it for a moment before opening it. As she pours the stones across the silk, sudden silvery-blue light radiates up from the silk, and the strand of hair vanishes. The nine stones roll to rest in a four-pointed star -- one at the center, two on each arm. Only the center stone faces upright, and that one bears the same stylized star as you saw above the archway.
  
  "What does that mean?" Father asks, though the tone of voice suggests that he has his suspicions already.
  
  The high priestess sits very still for a moment before picking up the case and putting away her set of stones. "This is inconclusive, but I would like to talk with your daughter alone for a moment." Father opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off in a clear, sharp voice. "We will be here, and you will be right outside the door. I assure you, there is nothing to fear."
  
  "Unacceptable," Father says coldly. "We will discuss what must be discussed, you and I, and you will involve my daughter further only with my consent."
  
  "She is nearly to her age of majority ," High Caerwyn states. "She has the right to hear about such things herself. If she is geased -- and she does seem to be -- then she must know what will come of it."
  
  "And if I refuse?" your father demands. There is a long pause as Father and High Caerwyn stare at one another, his crimson eyes locked to her dark blue eyes.
  
  The priestess of Ferran looks away first. "Then it could be her life," she says simply.
  
  Your father presses the advantage. "If it is her life, then what you know must be shared with me fully before you speak to her further. She is bright and special and tireless, and she is honored for her learning by every one of her fathers. I will permit nothing to harm her."
  
  This last, you recognize as trade manners; it would not do for this priestess to think you are of low value to your creche-clan, lest she believe that you -- and Father -- could vanish without your family's notice. Still, you warm beneath his praise.
  
  High Caerwyn nods. "Very well." She rises from her chair, goes to the door, and summons the graceful chirop priest. "Escort Achatli to the Cat Chamber, please, and remain until her father comes or until I join you."
  
  The priest bows gracefully to Caerwyn, half-spreading his arms to expose his patagium as he does, and then backs out of the room. At your father's nod, you follow the priest.
  
  The Cat Chamber turns out to be a short way down the corridor to the left. Hachachi follows you in and closes the door.
  
  This chamber is nearly identical to the previous room, including the dark walls and precisely positioned black furniture. The primary difference is in the tapestry, which depicts a spotted cat instead of a heron, and which has been executed with accents of gold, yellow, and green upon black instead of blue and silver upon black.
  
  Hachachi is standing nearby.
  
  > examine Hachachi
  He is chirop, just like you -- one of the lithe, lightly furred people of the mountains. Your father has told you of other chiroptera here, and it is a comfort to see one now. Like you or your father, this chirop has a membrane called the patagium that stretches from hip to wrist, connecting his arms to his body in the fashion of a bat's wings. His face is small and fuzzy, and you know that fangs are hidden within the small snout.
  
  This particular chirop is light tan in hue, with piercing black eyes. Several braids have been woven into the crest of longer hair that runs back from his brow. He wears a two-tone tunic in light and dark grey, and the tunic has been split neatly down the sides so that his patagium is not hampered -- a fairly traditional style of garb, which you and your family also favor, though the stylized star embroidered on his collar is not traditional. He is young, yet carries himself with an air of authority.
  
  > think about the patagium
  Your thoughts circle without profit.
  
  "Would you like to sit down?" Hachachi gestures to the ring of four chairs.
  
  > sit
  Did you mean to sit on the floor? (There's a black chair positioned facing the tapestry right there....)
  [Please respond with YES or NO.]
  
  > No
  You seat yourself in one of the black chairs. Hachachi nods his approval.
  
  The priest draws a small key from a hidden pocket and opens the black cabinet. At this angle, you can't really see anything of the contents of the cabinet, but when Hachachi turns back toward you, he is holding a small, opaque bottle and a pair of porcelain cups.
  
  "Are you familiar with desert appleshy?" he inquires.
  
  [1] "Desert appleshy? I don't think so...."
  [2] Remain silent.
  
  > 1
  "It is made by the jinn," Hachachi says as he uncorks the bottle and pours carefully. The liquid that swirls into the cups is pale gold, but tinged with faint iridescence. "The name is more fantastic than the flavor, I fear, but it has the virtue of lasting long and well in darkness -- so we keep a bottle in each room to quench thirst at appropriate times."
  
  Keeping one cup for himself, he sets the other on the table and then takes a moment to put the bottle away.
  
  Hachachi sits down on the black chair positioned to the right of the tapestry.
  
  > Xyzzy
  Yes, Colossal Caves is awesome. Now stay focused.