text: > go down
  That's impossible.
  
  > take the lacre
  There's no way you're going to touch that stuff. Not with your bare
  hands, anyway.
  
  > use the pail
  'Use' isn't specific enough. Why don't you try:
  Lighting
  Drinking
  Attaching
  Digging
  Pulling
  Playing
  Unlocking
  Reading
  Drying
  
  > look at the ritual
  The instructions to some kind of rite, in shaky writing.
  
  1. The shape the sacred shape never more never less always eight the
  sacred shape LIGHT THEM.
  2. Ring the bell to get the audience's attention
  3. Repeat after me.
  
  On the back is an incantation, though much of the ink is smudged.
  
  > examine incantation
  The instructions are written in the queen's english, but the
  incantation is written in mongolian - the language of the fourth city.
  But it's not really the right time for mongolian conjuring, so you
  decide not to.You don't understand a word of it. Maybe if you did
  you'd be able to read it out loud.
  
  > go to the east
  Here in a broad cavern, across a sea of foamy pits, is a stone altar.
  West is a cage-elevator, situated on a flat stone clearing. A
  stairwell south leads even further into the bowels of the earth.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  an ivory key
  some brilliant sap
  a chair
  a handwritten book
  a flint-and-steel lighter
  a maze map
  a set of ritual instructions
  a pail
  a brass key
  a bell
  a pickaxe
  the theoretical location of a hideout
  a rusty lamp (providing light)
  a pint of fry oil
  a detective's fedora (being worn)
  the spare towel
  a knapsack (open but empty)
  a compelling note
  
  > Go east
  A small room with rough cave walls, but an inhabited one. Cave
  paintings near the wall serve as decorations, and empty wine bottles
  are scattered all over the room. West is the exit.
  
  An entity stands in the room, giving you a headache.
  
  An old wooden desk is here.
  
  > ask the archaeologist about temple
  "The amber is weird," the archaeologist admits. "Doesn't look like any
  fourth city temple I know about." She sighs. "I guess I'd better get
  back to applying for grants.
  
  > examine the clay
  A triangle, but made from sturdy clay. One of the creatures that began
  to appear here and there after the shift, albeit to fill a role
  London's had for centuries. This one looks bored.
  
  > Go south
  You stand in a grand hall, built from a rich marble. Even weathered by
  time, it's magnificent. The exit is to the north. A side-room, so
  small that it seems like an afterthought, is to the west. Presumably
  there were other chambers here, but they've long since been buried in
  debris.
  
  > look at the debris
  Solid, heavy rubble prevents your passage.
  
  > Go west
  than constructed. East, a jagged tunnel leads back into the temple you
  came from.
  
  > Light candles
  What do you want to light the candles with?
  
  > Lighter
  The candle's flames roar to life as you light them. Each one is a
  bright point of light, and for a moment, you can almost see the shape
  they form.
  
  > ring bell
  The bell makes a loud, hollow sound that makes contact with your lines
  and stays there. Your vision blurs.
  
  > read the incantation
  "I address you, who live in the directions of up and down." You begin
  to read aloud in a voice that is not your own, and in a language
  you've never heard before. "I call upon a world I will never be able
  to see, in its grand infinities, that it may speak to me, and that for
  a moment, that I might begin to understand. There is a shape beyond a
  circle, and it is you, it is Euclid, the square that has been squared,
  spare me your fate and give me your lines." You raise your voice. "I
  open the door!"
  
  [PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE]You feel the world shake around you, hear
  the distant cry of an unfamiliar animal, but nothing appears. The
  triangle, resting against the wall behind you, stands shakily.
  
  > examine triangle
  Unlike the skeleton you remember seeing, this triangle is alive. Even
  if they are bleeding slightly.
  
  > talk
  (to the three-sided occultist)
  "I always wondered if it would have worked," the occultist says. "We
  were so close to completing the ritual, before- well, before. And we
  tried so hard. Our cult, that is." They sigh. "But after
  seventy years of waiting, I guess this was what I was waiting for."
  The occultist hands you a wooden comb, carved to resemble a hawk.
  "Thanks for trying, I suppose. For tying up that last loose end."
  
  You smell smoke, and feel the temperature start to rise. "Our time's
  almost up," the occultist says. "I don't have anything to keep me
  here, not any more."
  
  > look at the comb
  A wooden comb, carved and painted to look like a hawk. The fact that
  it's a genuine fourth city relic, albeit one in suspiciously good
  condition, makes it rather valuable.
  
  before your eyes. "Goodbye," says the occultist quietly. "And thank
  you."
  
  A clearing full of old, burnt rubble. Any structure that might have
  been here has been long since destroyed, but perhaps a few relics
  remain. East is the entrance to the Forgotten Quarter.
  
  The memory of smoke stings your eye.
  
  > Go east
  You stand at the edge of an ancient city - The Forgotten Quarter. Or
  what's left of it, anyway. What wasn't destroyed by London was
  stripped away by looters, making the whole place feel rather empty. To
  the north, the empty ruins connect to an empty street. Far to the west
  is a nondescript pile of rubble. South is an archeological dig site.
  
  > Go west
  A clearing full of old, burnt rubble. Any structure that might have
  been here has been long since destroyed, but perhaps a few relics
  remain. East is the entrance to the Forgotten Quarter.
  
  > Go south
  A magnificent dig site, heading into the stone that encases a lot of
  the ruins. This one is almost abandoned, though. The way out of the
  Forgotten Quarter is to the north. The entrance to an ancient temple
  is visible to the south.
  
  A clay triangle is hard at work at the dig site.
  
  A bored archaeologist lies on a crate, worn out.
  
  > talk to the archaeologist
  "I can't thank you enough," the archaeologist says. "After my
  crew quit, I didn't know what to do, but Brick's been a
  lifesaver. I call him Brick, since they're made of clay- we've been
  getting along great. Sometimes, we even finish each other's..." The
  clay triangle stares into space. "...Sentences."
  
  > ask the archaeolo about the pavilion
  Which do you mean, the pavilion or the distant pavilion?
  
  > First
  about the first mural.
  
  > Dig
  What do you want to dig?
  
  > put the comb in the case
  The accipitrine comb fits perfectly.
  
  > put it in the case
  Taken.
  
  The green-glass mirror doesn't seem to fit.
  
  > Light tubes
  What do you want to light the arc light with?
  
  > Go east
  The house abandoned. Locked or not, anything of any real value has
  been long since ransacked. A door to the west leads outside.
  
  You can see an unspeakably hideous painting here.
  
  > Climb bin
  Little is to be achieved by that.
  
  > go east
  The place has a rather homey atmosphere. Ancient objects of all shapes
  and sizes are for sale along the walls, though most of them just look
  like junk. Outside, the desolate lane awaits. In the east wall of the
  shop is the door to a back room.
  
  A beautiful old rug is spread out across the floor of the shop. There
  is no price tag.
  
  Running the shop is a weary antiquarian.
  
  > Show painting
  (to the weary antiquarian)
  The weary antiquarian is unimpressed.
  
  > go east
  The Lair Of Mr. Pages
  Instead of the back room of an antique shop, you appear to have
  stumbled onto some kind of chair warehouse. A chairhouse, if you will.
  Antique furniture has been placed in neat piles around the room. The
  antique shop proper is west.
  
  Mr. Pages himself, conspicuously without his usual flock of guards and
  assistants, lounges in an old Queen Anne seat. This must be important.
  
  > give the chair
  (to Mr. Pages)
  Mr. Pages does not move or speak for a long time. When he does, it is
  to grab you in a tight hug, pressing his leathery bulk against your
  lines. "My passion for furnishments!" He squeals. "You recallembered!"
  
  > Go west
  The place has a rather homey atmosphere. Ancient objects of all shapes
  and sizes are for sale along the walls, though most of them just look
  like junk. Outside, the desolate lane awaits. In the east wall of the
  shop is the door to a back room.
  
  A beautiful old rug is spread out across the floor of the shop. There
  is no price tag.
  
  Running the shop is a weary antiquarian.