The Mage Wars: Statue
by Jim Fisher (2003)
Genres: Science Fiction


action: %
response: (circa 9243)

"Daddy!"

"Daddy!"

You are accosted by two gleeful children as you walk into their dimly illuminated bedroom. They bound up in unison and leap on you from their respective beds. You first catch Kylina -- your six-year-old daughter -- then immediately pick your four-year-old son -- Mathen -- out of the air. Both children hug you tightly making you smile, comforted by this familiar nightly ritual. You squeeze both of them together in your arms, enjoying the sensation of your two children. You've always loved this moment -- the embrace before you put them to bed.

A small bedroom with two beds, one for each of your children. The illumination spell, a common casting available these days in every home in Darisia, is set very low so as to facilitate their falling asleep.

Kylina, your six-year-old daughter, has your eyes and Cylest's long dark hair.
action: About you
response: Starting to grey, but still in excellent health. If not for your fame, no one could possibly guess your real age.
action: You examine Mathen
response: Mathen, your four-year-old son, has short blonde hair. His smile is missing his two front teeth.

Kylina kisses you on the cheek then smiles a contrived farce of a smile at her brother.
action: You hug Kylina
response: You pull your daughter close and give her a hug then kiss her on the forehead. She smiles and gives you a kiss on the nose.

Mathen gives you a hug, squeezing tightly around your neck, and crosses his eyes at his sister.
action: Ms.
response: Children's Bedroom       Marcus Philbrook                 [MSpk] 5 Press X to exit
>What story would you...<
Once upon a time, there were three little pigs...
Captured the conquering lord...
action: You go to the north
response: Children's Bedroom       Marcus Philbrook                 [MSpk] 5 Press X to exit
What story would you...
>Once upon a time, there were three little pigs...<
Captured the conquering lord...
action: P.
response: Children's Bedroom       Marcus Philbrook                 [MSpk] 5 Press X to exit
>What story would you...<
Once upon a time, there were three little pigs...
Captured the conquering lord...
>ask about their preferred story
"What story would you like for me to tell you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"Tell us about when you were young!" answers Kylina decisively.

"Yes! Tell us the statue story!" Mathen agrees, clapping his hands together.
action: Ms.
response: Children's Bedroom       Marcus Philbrook                 [MSpk] 6 Press X to exit
>Where do I begin...<
>tell statue story
You smile, and take in a long breath. "Let me see, where do I begin? Oh yes...

"It had been three weeks since my spirit had died, three weeks since all the color had drained from the world, three weeks since..."

"No. Don't start there!" Mathen interrupts. "Start before that, when Mommy was a little girl!"

"That's not before, you dummy!" scorns his sister. "Mommy was after, while Daddy was sleeping!"

"Nuh-uuuh!"

"Yes she was!" Kylina glares at Mathen. Mathen retorts by sticking his tongue out at her.

"It's okay," you say smoothly. "We can start with Mommy. Maybe the story goes better that way."

Mathen smiles smugly at his sister, who decides to ignore him.

You think for a moment about where to begin. "Okay," you start. "Mommy -- that is, 'Cylest' -- had wandered away from the others..."

(circa 9223)

Cylest had wandered away from the others. The museum was amazing and she wanted to see all of it, but the statue -- THE statue, was too captivating. She had listened to the stories all of her life. It was the statue made by the ancients, the only remnant of a civilization before recorded history. None knew how the statue had been made or how the ancients had managed such realism. No one could even guess about what it was made from. The mages claimed that it was immune to most of their magiks and what little they could find out about it raised more questions than answers.

Cylest had always been enraptured by the mystery surrounding the statue. Although most thought it to be simply a statue of amazing detail, many believed that it was once a real man. It was a commonly told children's story that the statue was truly a dark mage who slept until his chosen time to rise again and enslave the world. It was said he was a mage of powerful evil -- more evil even than Noric the Dark who had been exiled with great difficulty into the Thanatos desert for leading an insurrection against her father. But Cylest secretly believed the statue was an ancient hero, captured by an evil mage of great power and made to suffer for all eternity. The statue was the single interest that she could always remember having, so she had jumped at the chance to visit the museum where it was housed. After the museum guide had led her party by it, she had taken the first opportunity to sneak away and return.

Now, as she stood knee-high before the statue of the ancients and stared up into its heart-wrenching expression, she was ensnared by the romance of it all. The tall, mysterious, ancient man -- unloved, rejected, and distraught by loneliness -- stood waiting only for someone to love him. Yes, she thought as she peered into his sad, distant eyes. I do love him. And she always had, for the entire seven years of her life. He needed her love and she could not deny him of it. The grownups would not understand, but it didn't matter. She would prove her love...

Museum, Statue Exhibit (in the glass case)

From within the case, sharing space with the statue, Cylest felt like an artifact herself, looking out into the empty museum.
action: You look at the statue
response: The statue was of a tall, handsome man, brimming with mystery and otherworldliness. The man held a strange box in his left hand, his thumb pressed against it purposefully. An ancient coat covered the man's torso and extended down to his knees. A small aperture in the coat, just within Cylest's reach, was visible.
action: You check your inventory
response: Cylest was carrying:
a promise pin (providing light)
action: You talk to the statue
response: [You can only do that to something animate.]
action: You examine the aperture
response: She looked closely at the small aperture in the statue, a gap in its strange ancient garb. It was a pocket. A perfect place to put the symbol of her love!
action: You examine pin
response: Cylest opened her fist and looked down at her promise pin. The pin, adorned with a glowing crystal, was symbolic of eons of Darisian tradition and her father would be livid when he found that she had taken it. It was to be given to her betrothed when she was old enough to make the decision. Well, she was old enough. She was seven years old -- almost eight -- and certainly old enough to love. After all, she loved this statue and the mysterious man that it represented. And the statue -- she was sure -- returned her love.
action: You look in the pocket
response: Cylest jumped several times, bobbing up and down just enough to see into the pocket. It was dark, but appeared to be empty. Not for long, Cylest told herself.
action: You put the pin in the pocket
response: Cylest reached up above her head and dropped the pin into the open pocket. There was a metallic tinkle as the pin slipped down the gap in the stone. She was certain that the statue would awaken for her now. It would come to life since she had proven her love for it. The ancient man would embrace her and sweep her away from her terrible life. Any moment he would open his lips and speak...

"Cylest!" cried a stern voice from behind, making her jump. "What are you doing in there?" She turned to see her father's aide staring at her from outside the glass casing. "Those display cases are meant to keep people from touching the artifacts! Get out of there, now!" he commanded. "That is no way for a princess to behave!"

Princess Cylest nodded at his reprimand, and silently followed him as he led her back to the group, relieved that he had not seen what she had done with her pin.

C H A P T E R . I
(circa 1997)

It had been three weeks since my spirit had died, three weeks since all the color had drained from the world, three weeks since the horror had visited and marred me forever. I had knelt amidst the wreckage of glass and metal. I had held Karen's limp form upon my lap. I had closed her unseeing eyes. It had been three weeks since my reason to live had left this world and I had kissed my wife's cold, bloodied lips goodbye.

The loss was unbearable, the pain beyond measure. I had emerged dreadfully intact from the wreckage that had once been my automobile. I was unforgivably unscathed. To those around me, I seemed healthy and vibrant. Yet I was but a shell; dead in all ways that mattered.

From my reflection, only an obscenity glared back. The perversity of it all taunted me. Not a scratch upon the killer who drove his love to her death. Not a bruise for the driver whose very reason to live was crushed in his passenger seat.

And so it was that three weeks -- or minutes, or decades -- after the accident, I included myself in the secret. As I stared at my reflection in the coffee pot, I let myself in on the plan. As I did, I knew at once that I had made the decision weeks ago -- in the midst of the wreckage -- and kept it secret even from myself.

Teresa had said that it was too soon for me to return to work, but I had dismissed her concerns. I needed to immerse myself, I had said. But it was a lie, and Malcolm had known. He watched me closely, scrutinizing my actions. He was as suspicious as any partner and friend of twenty years would be. But today was the meeting, and he could not be in two places at once.

Today would be the day that I would realize my plan and put an end to this lifelessness...

The Mage Wars: Statue
(INTROCOMP 2003 version)
Copyright (c) 2003: Jim Fisher

The coffee nook was nothing more than a recessed counter top with a sink, providing easy access from the Northern boardroom. The office coffeemaker rested on the counter.

In the empty coffeepot, which I still held, my refracted reflection returned my gaze, reminding me of the perversity of my existence.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: I was carrying:
a white lab coat (being worn)
a coffeepot
a coffee mug
some coffee
action: You drink the coffee
response: I downed the coffee. It was not entirely pleasant having the after-taste that coffee has after it has sat too long after brewing. Still, it was remarkably warm and fresh for a cup of coffee that was possibly ten-thousand years old.

The meeting was progressing in the boardroom to the North. Malcolm was showing the two investors one of the petra-eikons.
action: You put pot on the coffeemaker
response: I returned the coffeepot to its place in the coffeemaker.
action: You check your inventory
response: I was carrying:
a white lab coat (being worn)
a coffee mug

"As soon as Dr. Philbrook rejoins us," Malcolm was saying, "I can give you a demonstration of the device. I think you will be quite impressed."
action: You look at the coat
response: White and long, the coat came down to my knees. It had a single pocket at the bottom which I seldom used.
action: Look around
response: The coffee nook was nothing more than a recessed counter top with a sink, providing easy access from the Northern boardroom. The office coffeemaker rested on the counter, cradling the coffeepot.

From the boardroom I could hear one of the two investors ask a question. Malcolm murmured a vague reply, and cleared his throat in a private, unspoken inquiry as to my well-being.
action: You put the mug on the counter
response: I put the coffee mug on the counter.

"The Petrian device is really something of a..." I could hear Malcolm beginning one of his sales pitches. They weren't too bad, but they weren't what investors wanted to hear. It was apparent that he was stalling until I came back before delving into the details.
action: You go to the north
response: The boardroom was elegant and lavish. The East wall was comprised of windows framing a scenic view of the cityscape. Light shined through, distilled by tinting, and illuminated the room's centerpiece, a large marble table. A windowed wall and door exhibited the hall to the West. To the South was a small coffee bar.

Two investors sat at one end of the table, their backs to the windowed door and hall.

On the marble table was a cage (which was closed).

Malcolm, dressed in the sleek office attire he wore on such occasions, sat at the head of the table; a deep concern for me shown on his face.

"It is real?" asked one of the two men. He was holding the life-sized statuette of a turtle in his hands. The other man looked at it over his shoulder. Both seemed to be scrutinizing it for some flaw.

"Yes," responded Malcolm with a chuckle. "It is as real as this one." Malcolm pulled the cloth from the cage, revealing the kitten within. It had been sleeping, but awoke at the light. The kitten began to mew as Malcolm opened the cage and reached for it.
action: You examine the kitten
response: The fluffy white kitten mewed happily.

Both men's eyes widened as Malcolm attached the Petrian device's electrode to the purring kitten's paw. It began to lick his right hand and he stroked the kitten playfully. In his left hand, he held the Petrian device.

"Will it hurt?" the first man asked with a mixed expression of horror and fascination.

"Not at all," replied Malcolm smiling. "The effect is instantaneous. The kitten will experience no sensation and will be unaware even of the passage of time."

"How much time?" asked the second man.

"Whatever we choose," replied Malcolm. "For this example, I've set the device for thirty days. I could just as easily have set it for thirty millennia."
action: You look at the device
response: It was partially obscured as Malcolm held it, but I had seen it many times. I did, after all, help invent it. There was one more, partially damaged but still functioning in the testing lab. I had plans for that one. It was small, about the size and shape of a portable stereo.

Malcolm moved his hand from the kitten to the Petrian device. The kitten jumped playfully and tried to pursue his hand.

Then Malcolm pushed the button and the kitten froze, turning instantly to a colorless grey stone material. It fell off the table, having been frozen in mid leap, and made a loud noise as it hit the floor. The two men gasped at the fallen kitten, paying no attention to the electrode which automatically retracted to the device.

Malcolm reached down and picked the newly created statuette up from the floor and set it on the table. "If you have any questions," said Malcolm with a smug smile. "Dr. Philbrook and I will try to answer them as best we can."

For a moment, both men were speechless. They looked at the stoned kitten -- a newly created eikon -- with obvious wonder. It was always the same with these investors. This was the calm before the storm of questions.
action: You look at the kitten
response: The kitten, neither fluffy nor white any longer appeared to be a small statue chiseled out of stone, a petra-eikon.

"Can you bring the kitten out of this stoned state early?" one of the investors asked Malcolm.

He shook his head. "Once the Petrian energy imbues the subject, it dissipates at a constant rate. We've had no success at either speeding up or prolonging its effect."

As he spoke these words I realized that they weren't entirely true, but he didn't know yet. I had meant to tell him when I first made the breakthrough... but that had been just three weeks ago. All meaning in my life had been taken from me the very next day.
action: You examine the investors
response: Wearing almost identical black suits, the men were as two peas in a pod. I had participated in dozens of meetings exactly like this, and the investors were always the same. Karen and I used to joke that there was a cloning laboratory somewhere from which all investors came. I smiled at the fond memory of us joking, then winced at the pain of the realization that there would be no more of that happiness.

"And prolonging? What about trying to stone a statue that's already stoned?" The man looked at Malcolm, a curious expression on his face.

"No," He answered. "In the Petrian state, the subject no longer exhibits any of the qualities of organic matter and the process only affects the living."
action: You ask the inventors about the petrian state
response: (Asking investors)
"I don't know anything about that," The investors said.

One of the men looked at me with a quizzical expression. "It only affects living matter?"

Suddenly the ache in my heart was too extreme. I could not endure this meaningless drivel which was once so important to me. An urgent desire to leave came over me.
action: Ms.
response: Boardroom              Dr. Marcus Philbrook               [MSpk] 27 Press X to exit
>I believe I have discovered a way to revive... [Malcolm]<
Yes, and minimal inorganic material.
Please excuse me.
action: You go south
response: On the counter was a coffee mug (which was empty).
action: Look around
response: The coffee nook was nothing more than a recessed counter top with a sink, providing easy access from the Northern boardroom. The office coffeemaker rested on the counter, cradling the coffeepot.

On the counter was a coffee mug (which was empty).
action: You go to the north
response: The boardroom was elegant and lavish. The East wall was comprised of windows framing a scenic view of the cityscape. Light shined through, distilled by tinting, and illuminated the room's centerpiece, a large marble table. A windowed wall and door exhibited the hall to the West. To the South was a small coffee bar.

Two investors sat at one end of the table, their backs to the windowed door and hall.

On the marble table were a stone kitten statuette and a cage (which was empty).

Malcolm, dressed in the sleek office attire he wore on such occasions, sat at the head of the table; a deep concern for me shown on his face.

"It could survive the surface of a star?" asked the other investor. "You could leverage this technology to build spacecraft out of cheap, flexible material such as plastic, then?"

Malcolm shook his head. "The Petrias energy only affects living matter."

"Oh yes," the man said. "You said that."
action: Look around
response: The boardroom was elegant and lavish. The East wall was comprised of windows framing a scenic view of the cityscape. Light shined through, distilled by tinting, and illuminated the room's centerpiece, a large marble table. A windowed wall and door exhibited the hall to the West. To the South was a small coffee bar.

Two investors sat at one end of the table, their backs to the windowed door and hall.

On the marble table were a stone kitten statuette and a cage (which was empty).

Malcolm, dressed in the sleek office attire he wore on such occasions, sat at the head of the table; a deep concern for me shown on his face. One of the investors mumbled a pointless question. Malcolm gave a generic response.
action: Go west
response: (first opening the hall door)

It was a short hallway connecting three doors to the open Southern lobby. To the East was a glass wall and door dividing the hall from the boardroom. The mahogany door of Malcolm's office lay closed to the West. The door to the North led to the development lab where we performed all research on the Petrian device. On the wall, mounted next to the door was a security scanner.
action: You look at the mahogany door
response: The door to Malcolm's office, like the door to my office, was made of solid, rose stained mahogany. Intricate designs were etched into the wood in various places adding a touch of elegance. Karen had picked out the two doors when we had first opened the office.
action: Examine scanner
response: It was a semi-flat rectangular box, mounted on the wall. It produced a very small, almost insignificant hum as it waited patiently for a security badge to be passed over it.
action: %
response: (circa 9243)

"Daddy!"

"Daddy!"

You are accosted by two gleeful children as you walk into their dimly illuminated bedroom. They bound up in unison and leap on you from their respective beds. You first catch Kylina -- your six-year-old daughter -- then immediately pick your four-year-old son -- Mathen -- out of the air. Both children hug you tightly making you smile, comforted by this familiar nightly ritual. You squeeze both of them together in your arms, enjoying the sensation of your two children. You've always loved this moment -- the embrace before you put them to bed.

A small bedroom with two beds, one for each of your children. The illumination spell, a common casting available these days in every home in Darisia, is set very low so as to facilitate their falling asleep.
action: You put the kids in the bed
response: Kylina : You put Kylina on the bed.
Mathen : You put Mathen on the bed.

"Would you tell us a bedtime story, Daddy?" Kylina asks.

"Yes! Tell us a story, Daddy! Please?" says Mathen, thinking this a good idea. By his enthusiasm, one would think that you hadn't told them a bedtime story last night, or the night before, or each and every night for the last several years.

"Please, Daddy?" Kylina has no reservations about begging for bedtime stories.

"Pleeeeeease?" they plead in unison.

You laugh. "Okay, okay."

"Yay!" They cheer, and the two children begin to jump on their beds in excitement, each bobbing up and down in alternating intervals.

[In addition to the traditional Ask/Tell method of speaking,
menu-based conversation is available using "MENUSPEAK" when the
"MSpk" indicator appears on the status line and the input prompt is doubled (>>). Alternatively, the "MENUSPEAK" command can be
abbreviated as "MS" or "MSPK."]
action: You tell the Children about the story
response: Which do you mean, the three pigs story, the conquering lord story or the statue story?
action: You tell the Children about the statue story
response: You smile, and take in a long breath. "Let me see, where do I begin? Oh yes...

"It had been three weeks since my spirit had died, three weeks since all the color had drained from the world, three weeks since..."

"No. Don't start there!" Mathen interrupts. "Start before that, when Mommy was a little girl!"

"That's not before, you dummy!" scorns his sister. "Mommy was after, while Daddy was sleeping!"

"Nuh-uuuh!"

"Yes she was!" Kylina glares at Mathen. Mathen retorts by sticking his tongue out at her.

"It's okay," you say smoothly. "We can start with Mommy. Maybe the story goes better that way."

Mathen smiles smugly at his sister, who decides to ignore him.

You think for a moment about where to begin. "Okay," you start. "Mommy -- that is, 'Cylest' -- had wandered away from the others..."

(circa 9223)

Cylest had wandered away from the others. The museum was amazing and she wanted to see all of it, but the statue -- THE statue, was too captivating. She had listened to the stories all of her life. It was the statue made by the ancients, the only remnant of a civilization before recorded history. None knew how the statue had been made or how the ancients had managed such realism. No one could even guess about what it was made from. The mages claimed that it was immune to most of their magiks and what little they could find out about it raised more questions than answers.

Cylest had always been enraptured by the mystery surrounding the statue. Although most thought it to be simply a statue of amazing detail, many believed that it was once a real man. It was a commonly told children's story that the statue was truly a dark mage who slept until his chosen time to rise again and enslave the world. It was said he was a mage of powerful evil -- more evil even than Noric the Dark who had been exiled with great difficulty into the Thanatos desert for leading an insurrection against her father. But Cylest secretly believed the statue was an ancient hero, captured by an evil mage of great power and made to suffer for all eternity. The statue was the single interest that she could always remember having, so she had jumped at the chance to visit the museum where it was housed. After the museum guide had led her party by it, she had taken the first opportunity to sneak away and return.

Now, as she stood knee-high before the statue of the ancients and stared up into its heart-wrenching expression, she was ensnared by the romance of it all. The tall, mysterious, ancient man -- unloved, rejected, and distraught by loneliness -- stood waiting only for someone to love him. Yes, she thought as she peered into his sad, distant eyes. I do love him. And she always had, for the entire seven years of her life. He needed her love and she could not deny him of it. The grownups would not understand, but it didn't matter. She would prove her love...

Museum, Statue Exhibit (in the glass case)

From within the case, sharing space with the statue, Cylest felt like an artifact herself, looking out into the empty museum.
action: You look at Statue
response: The statue was of a tall, handsome man, brimming with mystery and otherworldliness. The man held a strange box in his left hand, his thumb pressed against it purposefully. An ancient coat covered the man's torso and extended down to his knees. A small aperture in the coat, just within Cylest's reach, was visible.
action: You drink the coffee
response: I downed the coffee. It was not entirely pleasant having the after-taste that coffee has after it has sat too long after brewing. Still, it was remarkably warm and fresh for a cup of coffee that was possibly ten-thousand years old.
action: You put the pot on the maker
response: I returned the coffeepot to its place in the coffeemaker.
action: You go to the north
response: The boardroom was elegant and lavish. The East wall was comprised of windows framing a scenic view of the cityscape. Light shined through, distilled by tinting, and illuminated the room's centerpiece, a large marble table. A windowed wall and door exhibited the hall to the West. To the South was a small coffee bar.

Two investors sat at one end of the table, their backs to the windowed door and hall.

On the marble table was a cage (which was closed).

Malcolm, dressed in the sleek office attire he wore on such occasions, sat at the head of the table; a deep concern for me shown on his face.

"It is real?" asked one of the two men. He was holding the life-sized statuette of a turtle in his hands. The other man looked at it over his shoulder. Both seemed to be scrutinizing it for some flaw.

"Yes," responded Malcolm with a chuckle. "It is as real as this one." Malcolm pulled the cloth from the cage, revealing the kitten within. It had been sleeping, but awoke at the light. The kitten began to mew as Malcolm opened the cage and reached for it.
action: You examine the kitten
response: The fluffy white kitten mewed happily.

Both men's eyes widened as Malcolm attached the Petrian device's electrode to the purring kitten's paw. It began to lick his right hand and he stroked the kitten playfully. In his left hand, he held the Petrian device.

"Will it hurt?" the first man asked with a mixed expression of horror and fascination.

"Not at all," replied Malcolm smiling. "The effect is instantaneous. The kitten will experience no sensation and will be unaware even of the passage of time."

"How much time?" asked the second man.

"Whatever we choose," replied Malcolm. "For this example, I've set the device for thirty days. I could just as easily have set it for thirty millennia."
action: You look at the device
response: It was partially obscured as Malcolm held it, but I had seen it many times. I did, after all, help invent it. There was one more, partially damaged but still functioning in the testing lab. I had plans for that one. It was small, about the size and shape of a portable stereo.

Malcolm moved his hand from the kitten to the Petrian device. The kitten jumped playfully and tried to pursue his hand.

Then Malcolm pushed the button and the kitten froze, turning instantly to a colorless grey stone material. It fell off the table, having been frozen in mid leap, and made a loud noise as it hit the floor. The two men gasped at the fallen kitten, paying no attention to the electrode which automatically retracted to the device.

Malcolm reached down and picked the newly created statuette up from the floor and set it on the table. "If you have any questions," said Malcolm with a smug smile. "Dr. Philbrook and I will try to answer them as best we can."

For a moment, both men were speechless. They looked at the stoned kitten -- a newly created eikon -- with obvious wonder. It was always the same with these investors. This was the calm before the storm of questions.
action: You tell the investors about the kitten
response: That did not seem to be an appropriate topic for the given context.

"Can you bring the kitten out of this stoned state early?" one of the investors asked Malcolm.

He shook his head. "Once the Petrian energy imbues the subject, it dissipates at a constant rate. We've had no success at either speeding up or prolonging its effect."

As he spoke these words I realized that they weren't entirely true, but he didn't know yet. I had meant to tell him when I first made the breakthrough... but that had been just three weeks ago. All meaning in my life had been taken from me the very next day.
action: You tell the investors about the device
response: That did not seem to be an appropriate topic for the given context.

"And prolonging? What about trying to stone a statue that's already stoned?" The man looked at me, a curious expression on his face.
action: You answer the the investors
response: (to Malcolm)
There was no reply.

"No," Malcolm answered. "In the Petrian state, the subject no longer exhibits any of the qualities of organic matter and the process only affects the living."

One of the men looked at Malcolm with a quizzical expression. "It only affects living matter?"

"Yes," he replied. "And a very small amount of inorganic matter in close proximity to the subject."

The man thought about this silently, obviously not convinced.

Suddenly the ache in my heart was too extreme. I could not endure this meaningless drivel which was once so important to me. An urgent desire to leave came over me.
action: You leave
response: [You'll have to say which compass direction to go in.]

"What happens if you break the statue?" one of the men asked.
action: Ms.
response: Boardroom              Dr. Marcus Philbrook               [MSpk] 14 Press X to exit
>I believe I have discovered a way to revive... [Malcolm]<
Please excuse me.
We know of no way to damage an eikon...
action: Go west
response: (first opening the hall door)

It was a short hallway connecting three doors to the open Southern lobby. To the East was a glass wall and door dividing the hall from the boardroom. The mahogany door of Malcolm's office lay closed to the West. The door to the North led to the development lab where we performed all research on the Petrian device. On the wall, mounted next to the door was a security scanner.
action: You look in the pocket
response: The pocket was empty.
action: Go west
response: (first opening Malcolm's office door)

Malcolm's office was clean and well organized, much as the man himself. His desk, a polished cherry wood, commanded all attention.

On the cherry desk was a mailing package (which was empty).
action: You examine package
response: A white shipping carton, open and empty, with an excessive amount of postage affixed. It was addressed to Malcolm's son, Brandon, who lived on campus at Dartmouth. Malcolm and his son were very close.
action: You open the package
response: No. The package was Malcolm's and I wasn't in the habit of using his things.
action: You examine the desk
response: Polished to a glassy smoothness, the desktop had been carved from a single piece of cherry wood.

On the cherry desk I could see a mailing package (which was empty).
action: You open the desk
response: No, that was Malcolm's desk and I wasn't going to riffle through his things.

No, that was Malcolm's desk and I wasn't going to riffle through his things.
action: You examine the door
response: Malcolm's office was clean and well organized, much as the man himself. His desk, a polished cherry wood, commanded all attention.

On the cherry desk was a mailing package (which was empty).

The door to Malcolm's office, like the door to my office, was made of solid, rose stained mahogany. Intricate designs were etched into the wood in various places adding a touch of elegance. Karen had picked out the two doors when we had first opened the office.
action: You close the door
response: I closed Malcolm's office door.
action: You examine the door
response: The door to Malcolm's office, like the door to my office, was made of solid, rose stained mahogany. Intricate designs were etched into the wood in various places adding a touch of elegance.
action: Go east
response: (first opening Malcolm's office door)
action: You open the lab door
response: There was no handle on this side of the door so it could not be opened in the conventional manner. Having been through it a thousand times, I knew that the door would open automatically when I slid my ID badge through the mounted security scanner.
action: Inventory
response: I was carrying:
a white lab coat (being worn)
a coffee mug
action: You look at the coat
response: White and long, the coat came down to my knees. It had a single pocket at the bottom which I seldom used.
action: You look at the pocket
response: Just a single pocket, sewn into the lab coat.
action: You go south
response: The lobby was a clean, almost sterile room that greeted people when they stepped off of the elevator. It hosted a large, wooden desk behind which sat our receptionist Teresa, who greeted everyone with a pleasant smile. There was a small slot which opened to the mail chute located conspicuously against the South wall. My office door lay to the West, the rest of the office resided down the short hallway to the North.

Teresa ruffled through the papers on her desk, performing her duties in a neat and efficient manner.

"Hello, Doctor Philbrook," greeted Teresa. She smiled brightly, but it was an artificial smile. I could see the concern reflected in her eyes, a concern reflected in the eyes of everyone I worked with.

I knew I should be appreciative for their concern and that it was rooted in caring, but I despised it. I grew weary of their sympathy for a pain that would never heal, and tired of people tiptoeing around me.

It will soon be over, I thought.

>>
The only exits lay north and west.
"Is everything going all right with the meeting?" she asked.

I nodded, putting on a good face as I forced myself through this excruciating exchange of small talk.
action: Ms.
response: Lobby                  Dr. Marcus Philbrook               [MSpk] 41 Press X to exit
Hello, Teresa.
>I've left something in my office...<
action: P.
response: Lobby                  Dr. Marcus Philbrook               [MSpk] 41 Press X to exit
>Hello, Teresa.<
I've left something in my office...
>tell Teresa hello
"Hello, Teresa," I said and smiled a lifeless veil of a smile, trying to mask my despondency.
action: Ms.
response: Lobby                  Dr. Marcus Philbrook               [MSpk] 42 Press X to exit
>I've left something in my office...<
>tell Teresa about meeting
"I've left something in my office which I need to get. Malcolm can handle the investors for awhile." It was a lie, but sounded better than: "I'm going to my office to cry and stare out the window in misery. Malcolm can handle the investors for awhile."

"Yes sir," Teresa said, seeming satisfied, at lEast for the time being, with some personal assessment of my well-being. She turned her attention to the papers on her desk.
[I beg your pardon?]
action: Go west
response: (first opening my office door)

Karen had been gifted at interior decorating and she had put a great deal of effort into my office. The room was exquisite; the view of the city from my window was breathtaking. Everything in the room had been hand-picked for its elegance, from the gorgeous mahogany desk to the cherry wood Venetian blinds. What had once filled me with pride was now an excruciating reminder of my lost love. Everything in this room we had picked together, Karen and I.

There, in my home away from home, I sank deeper into the depths of despair.

On the mahogany desk were a stone rabbit statuette and a picture frame.
action: You look at the statuette
response: It was one of my most prized, yet gruesome, statuettes. The rabbit had been the prey of some small predator. It had been partially mauled and its side slashed open by the attacking animal's talons. I had stumbled upon the scene at the last possible moment and the attacker had fled, too late to save the rabbit. Fear showing in its eyes, its entrails exposed, the rabbit had been eikonized the instant before death.

Tears filled my eyes as I looked at the frightened rabbit that stared forever into Death's face. I cried for my rabbit that had been mauled and taken from me in my passenger seat.

Karen! Open your eyes! Karen! Please wake up! Stay with me, sweetheart! Karen...

For a time, I was overcome with remorse.
action: You look at the frame
response: It was a picture of me and Karen during our vacation to Cancun the previous summer.

We had solicited a stranger to take our picture for us and had been unable to contain our laughter long enough for the solemn poses we had tried for. Karen, joy blazing from her beautiful face, clasped her arms tightly around my waist. A snapshot of my loss which now twisted my innards and wrenched from me any pretense of healing.

Almost, I could hear her laughter. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks.
action: You look at the desk
response: It was an elegant desk of polished mahogany which I had made efforts to keep clutter free. It framed a single drawer.

On the mahogany desk I could see a stone rabbit statuette and a picture frame.
action: You open the drawer
response: I opened the drawer, revealing my ID badge.
action: You open the drawer
response: The drawer was already open.
action: You get the badge
response: Taken.
action: You take the badge
response: I had that already.
action: You go to the east
response: The lobby was a clean, almost sterile room that greeted people when they stepped off of the elevator. It hosted a large, wooden desk behind which sat our receptionist Teresa, who greeted everyone with a pleasant smile. There was a small slot which opened to the mail chute located conspicuously against the South wall. My office door lay to the West, the rest of the office resided down the short hallway to the North.

Teresa ruffled through the papers on her desk, performing her duties in a neat and efficient manner.
action: Go north
response: I stepped into the hall, facing the lab door. Out of the corner of my eye, through the window, I could see into the conference room. Malcolm was trying futilely to put the design principles behind the Petrian Device into layman's terms for the investors. He took notice of me with a quizzical expression on his face, but seemed to have his hands full answering questions. In a few moments, when he realized my intent, he would do anything to stop me.

It was a short hallway connecting three doors to the open Southern lobby. To the East was a glass wall and door dividing the hall from the boardroom. The mahogany door of Malcolm's office lay closed to the West. The door to the North led to the development lab where we performed all research on the Petrian device. On the wall, mounted next to the door was a security scanner.
action: You show the badge to the scanner
response: [You can only do that to something animate.]
action: You go north
response: (first opening the monitoring lab door)
There was no handle on this side of the door so it could not be opened in the conventional manner. Having been through it a thousand times, I knew that the door would open automatically when I slid my ID badge through the mounted security scanner.
action: You slide the badge through the scanner
response: I slid the card over the scanner.

"Authorization granted," chimed a melodic female voice. There was a brief beep and the monitoring lab door opened.

Malcolm visibly started as he heard my badge run through the scanner. He stopped talking in mid-sentence and turned to face me through the window. Both men turned too, to see what he was looking at. I had to act, I knew. There would be no second chance now.
action: Go north
response: The monitoring lab consisted of an instrument console and a large window into the testing lab. It was from there that all tests of the Petrian device were observed. The door to the testing lab lay North. Next to it, mounted on the wall was a security scanner, exactly like the one in the hall. The lab exit, leading to the hall, lay to the South.

The hall door swung closed with a click.
action: You slide the badge through the scanner
response: I slid the card over the scanner.

"Authorization granted," chimed a melodic female voice. There was a brief beep and the testing lab door opened.
action: You look through window
response: The glass exposed rooms in two directions: The testing lab to the North, and the hall to the South.

The testing lab door swung closed with a click.
action: You go to the north
response: White and clean, the testing lab was where all real testing was done on the Petrian device. Calibration, adjustments, repairs -- it was all done in this lab where every detail could be observed through the window from the monitoring lab to the South. Even the exit -- also on the Southern wall -- had a glass window. A workbench was centered neatly in the room.

On the workbench was a Petrian device.

Through the window, I could see into the monitoring lab. Beyond that, visible through the door window, was Malcolm in the hall. He pressed up against the glass and peered in, obviously panicked. Our eyes met and he yelled something to me. I couldn't hear him through the lab's sound proofing, but I didn't need to. We knew each other too well. He knew what I was up to, I knew how he felt about it.

The monitoring lab door swung closed with a click.
action: You look at Device
response: One of only two prototypes, this Petrian device was damaged. The other, which Malcolm had been demonstrating to the potential investors, was the only one that worked completely. This one would do everything that I needed it to, though. It was small, hand-sized, and if not scrutinized, it could easily have been mistaken for a portable stereo. What looked like a single headphone was actually an electrode which retracted automatically into the device when not being used. There was a dial, broken and spinning freely. There was also a small, red button used to initiate the process.

Past the monitoring lab and into the hall, I could see Malcolm swipe his badge. The hall door opened giving him access to the monitoring lab. I needed to act. Malcolm would already have stopped me save for the single glass door that stood between us.
action: You get it
response: The red button was hardly portable.

Malcolm knew what I had in mind. He shook his head vigorously at me, and screamed silently for me to stop.

Teresa reached the console and turned on the audio system. "Marc! Don't do this!" she pleaded. "I know this has been horrible for you, but what you are trying do... this is not the way!"

I gazed without reaction at the red button on the Petrian device. It was as red as my beautiful wife's blood upon my shirt as she died in my arms that wretched night.
action: You get Device
response: Taken.

Malcolm was fumbling with his badge and the scanner on the outside of the test lab. I had only a moment to act before it was too late.
action: You look at the clones
response: The opposing mirrors were clean and glassy, but tinted so as to reflect a gloomy reality. Puck's endless line of reflections faded to darkness as they stretched into infinity.
action: You examine the bag
response: Gray and well-used, the rough bag was marred with grisly stains; its seams pulled tightly around its ghastly contents.
action: Go north
response: It was the North end of the mirrored hall. Far to the South, a strangely unbalanced distance away, loomed a line of countless towering spiral staircase. Immediately to the North was the imposing silver door to the master's inner chamber.
action: You examine the door
response: Large and imposing, the door was brushed silver, textured in a manner which repressed reflection.
action: You knock on the door
response: The door was opened by a large guard. Puck recognized him from the common grounds. Siedmeur was his name. He looked down at Puck and opened the door wider, motioning for him to enter.
action: Go north
response: The guard closed the door and Puck's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the inner chamber. On the far side of the room, covered in robes, sat the master! Although he knelt upon a dark pallet and faced away, Puck immediately diverted his eyes. Puck was not worthy to look even upon the master's back.

Then came the soft, gentle words: "Good evening, Puck." Puck's heart leapt. The master knew him by name! He could not believe his ears. "Please be so kind as to remove Mage Limech from the bag he currently rests in and place him upon the altar." For a moment Puck almost forgot what he had been carrying.

It was a dark room covered in dark drapes. The pungent stench of decay was overwhelming. It wafted throughout the room with an almost tangible presence, like a wraith of Death. Distant murmuring drifted in from beyond the drapes, a rhythmic whisper of anguish. Centered in the chamber was a large stone altar set only a few feet off the floor. A dull silver door lay to the South.

Siedmeur, part of the master's elite guard, stood at attention next to the Southern door, watching silently.

The dark master was there, only partly discernable from the shadows.
action: You open the bag
response: Puck opened the bag revealing the dead traitor, the mole. Limech had been one of the mages that had served the master. At lEast he had pretended to. But the master had known him for what he was. Limech had been a spy for Darisia, a spy for the jealous mages that had exiled the master. So Limech had earned his own death. And those that received his reports had finally received his severed heart as a reminder of who they dealt with.

But that had been weeks ago, and Limech's corpse was badly decomposing. Why did the master again desire the dead mage? Why was Puck to deliver the heartless carcass of a dead spy to the master? Puck did not know. Perhaps it had something to do with the rumors of the supreme one's new work. Perhaps the master would find it in his heart to show him, Puck, what the entire kingdom wondered about.
action: You take the corpse
response: Puck struggled for a moment, pulling the rotting carcass from the bag. Limech's head flopped limply to the side, his mouth open. Puck held him in both arms, letting the bag fall to the floor. The pungency of death was about.

The master spoke again, annoyance resonating in his voice. "If it is not too much of an inconvenience for you, please put the body on the altar." His gentle words were a mockery, spoken in the most menacing of tones.
action: You put the body on the altar
response: Puck laid the long dead mage upon the altar. Limech's joints popped and cracked gruesomely with the action. His chest, visible now, had been ripped open, his heart cut out; a chilling reminder of his gory demise.

It was only for a moment that Puck was lost in the horror of it. For just an instant he stared at the macabre delivery, then he again heard the master's voice: "Levios!" Puck was startled by the proximity. The master had moved quietly to the altar and stood next to him. Puck tried to step back and give the master space to do his work, but found that his feet no longer touched the floor. He was floating! Panicked, Puck flailed his arms around him. "Strictum," the master said, and Puck's arms snapped to his sides.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: Puck was paralyzed and floating in mid-air. He was unable to do anything.

From his black robes, the master pulled out a long silver blade. It was a sacrificial dagger. "It seems," he spoke in a ghastly tranquil tone, "that I have misjudged the importance of the heart. I have need of a replacement."

"But my Lord," the ensnared Puck murmured. "I have sacrificed everything for you."

The dark mage nodded grimly. "And so you have earned release from your suffering existence."

And with that, the master casually thrust the blade into Puck's chest. A gurgling cry escaped Puck's lips as he died.

Siedmeur tried to stare at nothing and let his eyes lapse out of focus, but it didn't help. His peripheral vision was too keen and his eyes too well adapted to the darkness. He had no choice but to observe with complete awareness as the master cut the heart from the deformed little man's floating cadaver. The guard swore that he would never get used to this no matter how many times he had to witness it.
action: You examine the master
response: No, he would not dare to gaze directly upon the master. It was best to keep his eyes averted.

Although he avoided direct eye contact with the master, Siedmeur was nevertheless aware of what Noric was doing. He was aware of the organic sucking sound as Noric pulled the heart from the little man's chest. He was aware of the master turning his knife on the aged cadaver on the altar. He was aware of the constant dripping as a pool of blood formed under Puck's floating corpse.

Siedmeur wanted to vomit.
action: You examine the corpse
response: (Puck's corpse)
Siedmeur glanced at the little man's disfigured corpse and tried to hide his revulsion. Puck's chest had been cleaved open. The warm blood was beginning to congeal around the empty, gaping lesion.

After an endless span of time, Noric lifted his hooded head from his work and looked at Siedmeur. The guard shuddered. Who knew when the master might need another heart?

With a flick of the master's wrist, the little man fell to the floor. "Put him in the bag and take him away," Noric ordered, then he resumed his work on the dead mage.
action: You take Puck
response: The dead, little man was a light burden in Siedmeur's strong arms, but a heavy burden to Siedmeur's fragile spirit.
action: You put Puck in the bag
response: Siedmeur dumped the carcass into the blood stained bag, drawing it up by the sides so that the body settled in the bottom.

"Be quick about it," Noric commanded. "My patience thins."
action: You take the bag
response: Siedmeur had that already.
action: You go south
response: (first opening the mirrored hall door)
Siedmeur managed to close the door behind him before he vomited. A chill ran down his spine and he broke out in a cold sweat as he dropped the little servant's remains. The guard knelt in the corner and closed his eyes tightly, unable to escape his own reflection. It was several minutes before his retching subsided.

Siedmeur had witnessed scenes such as this more than a dozen times in his years of service, but this one affected him more substantially than the others. He couldn't say why for certain. Perhaps it was because he had known of the little man. Their paths had crossed on a number of occasions. But they never would again.

The guard shivered and stood. He took deep, controlled breaths, trying to calm his nerves. The master's projects had grown darker and more frightening. Though he would never dare speak such blasphemy, in his mind Siedmeur questioned Noric's sanity. What could he do? The guard shook his head. There is but one thing to do, he thought to himself as he bent to pick the servant's carcass from the floor. Obey.
Nortoche stood, shrouded in darkness, on the front steps and faced the closed museum. It was locked by this time of night, many hours past closing. Of course, he wouldn't have been there if it were open. Those that worked the museum by day would frown upon what he intended to do. Not that his intentions were bad.

When Cylest, his beloved, was a child, she had taken her pin -- her PROMISE pin -- and hidden it in the statue! He had laughed at her when she first told him the story. It was just one of those crazy things that little girls did, he supposed.

Cylest's father could certainly have managed its retrieval through the proper channels but she was set against this, claiming that it would bring her dishonor. Nortoche didn't really understand what she was talking about, but as their relationship became more serious, he began to have a vested interest in recovering the pin.

So there he was, in yet another compromising situation, this time in the name of love, preparing to break into a museum and take back a promise pin, which no one knew was there, from an ancient statue which had possessed it for almost a dozen years.

He shook his head at the craziness of it all and toyed with the globe which Cylest had procured for him despite its extreme rarity. The princess was not without her resources, he thought to himself. Nort tossed the orb playfully into the air meaning to catch it, but missed. The orb landed at his feet with a metal clink.

It was the front steps of the Ancient Artifacts Museum, which was pretty ancient itself. The imposing front door stood locked and closed to the North. Although it was dark, small garden trails could still be seen winding through the bushes, one to the NorthWest, the other to the NorthEast.

Nortoche could see a golden orb there.
action: You take the orb
response: Upon contact with the golden orb, Nortoche felt a surge of energy resonate through his body.
action: You examine the orb
response: Perfectly round, about the size of a large walnut. The small globe was smooth and Nort could see his distorted expression in it. This was anti-magik, he knew, and it could be used just once. When he threw it, all magik in a small diameter would disappear, the globe included.
action: About yourself
response: Nort checked himself over, running his fingers through his frizzy hair and pressing out the wrinkles from his expensive new robes. Cylest had given the robes to him, and after he retrieved her promise pin she would be his forever, despite what any other Darisian thought. As she always told him, he was more stylish than most Dars could recognize. It had to be true, how else could he have captured the heart of the princess?
action: You examine the door
response: The museum entrance was oversized and quite imposing. It seemed to be carved from a single block of hardwood.
action: You examine the bushes
response: Well tended, the plant life was thriving.
action: You go northwest
response: This was a small walkway, winding through the shrubbery around the museum. The imposing wall, fashioned from cobbled brick was an arm's reach away to the East. The thick bushes made straying from the trail from the trail impractical. The trail itself encircled the museum, disappearing around the corners to the NorthEast and SouthEast.
action: You look at bricks
response: Simple and unadorned, the wall was made of plain, earthen bricks.
action: You climb the bricks
response: The brick wall were not significant. (It is not necessary to refer to them in the course of this game.)
action: You go northeast
response: Behind the museum amidst trees and bushes. It was quite dark and the crescent moon above provided only minimal light. The trail continued its encircling path around the museum, leading SouthEast and SouthWest. Due South was the museum's garden and beyond would be a wall of windows, provided so that visitors within the museum could admire the aesthetics without.
action: You go south
response: A pungent scent swept across Nort's nostrils in a tingling rush. This garden hosted an army of extravagant flowering plants. The museum windows formed a glass wall to the South through which visitors could admire the floral display. The garden was renowned for its beauty and many came simply to view the flowers and had little interest in the museum's archeological treasures.

Nort considered the bottom window, trying to see the inner latch inside. Cylest had assured him that she had pulled some strings and that the bottom window would be unlocked, but he hesitated. If she was wrong and the window was still locked, then the museum's security spells would trigger when he tried to open it. That would summon the mages and he definitely didn't want to face them.
action: You open bottom window
response: Nortoche opened the glass window. Cylest had been right -- no alarm spell. Being a princess obviously had its advantages.
action: You enter it
response: Museum, Peace Exhibit
This was a peaceful, organic section of the museum. Potted plants rested in every corner and climbing ivy worked its way over various crevices and ledges giving a warm, natural feeling. The Northern wall was made up of sections of glass, providing a scenic view of the gardens outside. The loWest section was actually a window with a handle that could be opened. A glass display case containing an open book was featured in this area. An engraved silver plaque on the case glistened in the dim luminosity.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: You read the plaque
response: "The Book of Rehsif"

"Little is known of the person named Rehsif-Mij other than the fact that he was an ancient historian. This so-called book of Rehsif, found long ago, is the last remnant of his work and is believed to be between three and four millennia old. Only a few paragraphs in the book, on a single page, are still legible and are believed to have been written in Rehsif's native language called "Anglosh." All knowledge of "Anglosh" and the ability to translate it has been lost to modern scholars for hundreds of years. The only remaining vestibule of knowledge concerning the language is the translation of the few readable snips of text from this ancient book into a once common Darisian dialect. The translation itself, which appears below, is close to a thousand years old and bears only a vague resemblance to modern Darisian:

"...a fresh weapon unlike the collective had sight of in the previous. The weapon potentialed caustic, and when the caustic was unconstrained, there ushered not alone the departing of the Great Battle, but desolation in the escort..."

"...freshly made was the All..."

"...potential saturated the All in the infinitesimal and unioned within. Yoked the All to the whim of the minor count who arrayed the saturated by will; a fresh aristocracy approached..."

"...aged magiks of sionce were mislaid and overcome by the approaching of the fresh magiks arrived by the saturated All. Sionce reduced, to depart yet. The All conformed to the decree of the wyzurds..."
action: Examine book
response: The book, which lay open within the case, was obviously very old. Parts of the hand-written text appeared to be legible and could possibly be read, although the book itself was in such poor condition that touching it directly would probably render it dust. Everyone knew that this was the state that the book had been found in almost two thousand years before. Owing to the miracles of modern magik, the book had not aged a day since.
action: Close window
response: Nortoche closed the glass window.
action: Exits
response: Exits lead in all directions.
action: Go east
response: Museum, War Exhibit
Ancient weapons adorned the walls. The metallic gleam in the dim lighting furthered an ambiance of war and desolation. The single glass case, centered in this section, contained a large, box-like device the purpose of which was mysteriously non-obvious.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: You examine Device
response: The artifact was large and square with symbols printed on the side. It had an opening, a gap in the metallic skin, which revealed its inner workings. Atop the artifact was a vertical stem, hosting a plug, that was obviously designed to interface with another object. There was also a panel on the side of the artifact (which was closed) and a solitary square button on the front.
The artifact was currently switched off.
action: You examine the symbols
response: The ancient symbols were beyond comprehension; their meaning lost in time along with all the knowledge of the ancients.
action: You look at the gap
response: The opening in the side of the machine was simply a missing cover, torn off and lost at some point in history. It revealed the inner guts of the machine, complex electronics and moving parts that made the machine function. The most prominent of the inner parts were three gear pegs arranged in a precise pattern: two upper pegs, one lower peg.
action: You examine the stem
response: It was a short, swiveling stem which rose out of the machine. On the end of the stem there appeared to be a plug of some kind.
action: You examine the panel
response: The access panel was closed.
action: You examine the pegs
response: The two upper pegs, unlike the lower peg, each supported a small gear.
action: Exits
response: Exits lead in all directions except the North.
action: Go northwest
response: Museum, Industrial Exhibit
Manufactured paraphernalia bejeweled the brushed metal walls. A plethora of ancient metallurgical tools and gear fed the industrial motif of this section. The central artifact, encased within glass was a large box-shaped machine.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: You look at light
response: It was a fluid, moving field of energy, a semi-transparent plasma, which surrounded the glass case and radiated a meager blue luminance.
action: You examine the machine
response: It was a strange, boxed mechanism about waist-high. There was a funnel at the top next to which was an engraving which depicted a hand throwing in some unidentifiable object. At the bottom was a tray or some kind. On the side of the artifact was a closed panel.
action: You examine the funnel
response: Affixed to the top of the artifact, the funnel receded down into the artifact's internals. It was relativly small, about the size of a fist.
action: You look at the engraving
response: The engraving depicted a hand throwing some unidentifiable object into the funnel.
action: You examine the tray
response: A simple metallic tray located at the bottom of the machine. From the looks of it, items dispensed from the machine ended up there. Several holes lined the bottom of the tray.
action: You examine the panel
response: The panel was closed.
action: Exits
response: Exits lead in all directions except the North.
action: You go to the north-west
response: Museum, Art Exhibit
The exhibits in this room were all of an artistic nature. Ancient sculptures stood proudly erect upon elegant marble pedestals. Colorful oil paintings adorned the walls. Sprawling across the ceiling was a vast and expansive mural, a lasting memorial to a long dead master painter of exquisite skill. In the corner, seemingly out of place yet encased in glass, was an assortment of rubbish arranged in a bizarre fashion.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: You look at the paintings
response: The pieces of ancient art were everywhere, including the ceiling. They appeared to stem from a variety of historical timeframes. Individually, they each tended to portray some element of their times. Viewed together, the formed a menagerie of color and culture.
action: You look at the rubbish
response: It was junk art -- a little scene fashioned by welding together discarded pieces of machinery. This scene seemed to depict a man (or was it a frog?) sitting at the base of a strange, metallic river holding an umbrella over his head.
action: You go to the northwest
response: The museum lobby was large and spacious. There were delayed echoes of footsteps resounding from the lofty walls and vaulted ceiling which drew a direct contrast to the quiet calm of the rest of the museum. The building's large, decorative entrance lay closed to the South.
action: Go north
response: A row of miscellaneous artifacts and displays blocked travel in that direction.
action: Go east
response: Museum, Statue Exhibit
This was a prominent section of the museum, near the front entrance. It was home to the museum's -- no, the world's -- most prized archeological artifact, known by no other name than the "ancient statue." Like all large artifacts in the museum, a glass case had been erected to house it. Within, standing upright, the statue stared unseeingly at Nortoche.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: You examine Statue
response: Grey and cold, the ancient statue stood in the same stance that it always had. It was a sight familiar to everyone in the world and Nortoche had seen it dozens of times in the past. As he looked at it, however, Nort realized that the glass case blurred the statue somewhat. To truly appreciate the amazing detail of the statue, he would have to look at it from within the case itself.
action: Go east
response: No, there was no time to wander around further. Nort had to get Cylest's pin from the statue's pocket and get out.
action: Exits
response: Although the exits led in all directions, Nort had already located what he came for and had no further need to wander around. The only exit Nort had already traveled lay west.
action: You enter the case
response: No, Nort recognized the glowing auras for the security spells that they were. Not only did they protect the artifacts, but they also triggered an alarm when intersected. The mages were very thorough.
action: You examine the orb
response: Perfectly round, about the size of a large walnut. The small globe was smooth and Nort could see his distorted expression in it. This was anti-magik, he knew, and it could be used just once. When he threw it, all magik in a small diameter would disappear, the globe included.
action: You throw the orb
response: Dropped.
action: You throw the orb at case
response: Nortoche threw the orb at the glass case as hard as he could. Momentarily, the museum was illuminated by a bright shower of sparks as the orb met the surrounding blue aura.

The blue energy dissipated into nothing.
action: Open case
response: Nortoche opened the glass case.
action: You enter the case
response: Nortoche got into the glass case.
action: You look at Statue
response: Nortoche looked at the statue in wonder. The smooth jaw bone, the tapered nose... he could see the detail for which this statue was famous. The realism was phenomenal. Nortoche looked into the unfocused eyes... even the ring around the iris was distinctive and clearly visible after all these thousands of years. It was amazing that any sculptor could...

Nortoche frowned. For an instant, he could have sworn that the statue had blinked. Silly, he thought. Alone in this dark, closed museum, his mind was playing...

No. There it was again... It WAS moving! Panic instantly welled up inside of Nortoche as the statue exhaled. The myths were true! This dark mage from ancient times had awakened! He would devour the children and enslave the world killing all who displeased him! He would destroy all in his path, and Nortoche was just inches from his face!

Fear griped Nortoche and he cried out in a fanatical scream, "Mercy!" But at this the dark mage only took notice of him, his eyes focusing for the first time in millennia. "Don't kill me!" he cried. "Don't kill me!" Nortoche leaped away from the mage in a frenzy and smashed into the casing which surrounded him. He fell to the floor as the glass shards rained down.

His life was over, Nortoche knew. He would never again see Cylest. He would never again walk through the bazaar with his peers. He had only seconds before his life came to an end, moments before the dark mage's wrath came upon him.

And it came with a blinding flash.
There was a flash of light. I didn't see it directly since my eyes were squeezed shut, but the light was so bright that it penetrated my eyelids and I felt the pulse on my skin. When I opened my eyes the boy was gone. "Hello?" I called. There was no response.

I ran my fingers through my hair, trying my best to brush out the tiny shards of glass, then I looked around me, taking in my surroundings.

Museum, Statue Exhibit
I could see glass cases in every direction. This was obviously a closed museum, although this particular section seemed to have showcased only one exhibit. From the remains of the glass case that I stood in, I suspected that I had been that exhibit.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exit not barred by light lay west.
action: Inventory
response: I was carrying:
a Petrian device
my ID badge
a white lab coat (being worn)
a coffee mug
action: You open door
response: The museum door was seemed to be locked.
action: You unlock door
response: [What do you want to unlock the museum door with?]
action: You go to the west
response: (first taking the west wall)
The west wall was not available.
action: Go west
response: That way was barred by a floating beam of light. The only exits not barred by light lay south, east, and southeast.
action: You go southeast
response: Museum, Art Exhibit
The exhibits in this room were all of an artistic nature. Ancient sculptures stood proudly erect upon elegant marble pedestals. Colorful oil paintings adorned the walls. Sprawling across the ceiling was a vast and expansive mural, a lasting memorial to a long dead master painter of exquisite skill. In the corner, seemingly out of place yet encased in glass, was an assortment of rubbish arranged in a bizarre fashion.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exits not barred by light lay northwest and southeast.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: Go southeast
response: Museum, Industrial Exhibit
Manufactured paraphernalia bejeweled the brushed metal walls. A plethora of ancient metallurgical tools and gear fed the industrial motif of this section. The central artifact, encased within glass was a large box-shaped machine.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exits not barred by light lay northwest and southeast.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: Go southeast
response: Museum, War Exhibit
Ancient weapons adorned the walls. The metallic gleam in the dim lighting furthered an ambiance of war and desolation. The single glass case, centered in this section, contained a large, box-like device the purpose of which was mysteriously non-obvious.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exits not barred by light lay west and northwest.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: Go west
response: Museum, Peace Exhibit
This was a peaceful, organic section of the museum. Potted plants rested in every corner and climbing ivy worked its way over various crevices and ledges giving a warm, natural feeling. The Northern wall was made up of sections of glass, providing a scenic view of the gardens outside. The loWest section was actually a window with a handle that could be opened. A glass display case containing an open book was featured in this area. An engraved silver plaque on the case glistened in the dim luminosity.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exit not barred by light lay east.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: You read Book
response: I looked at the pages of the open book. Through the glass casing I could make out snatches of text, but most of it was faded or smeared beyond recognition. What I could make out was in English. It seemed to be a historical text, though I couldn't be certain. It could just as well have been a work of fiction:

"...a new weapon unlike any nation had seen before. It held vast, destructive power, and when the destruction was unleashed, it brought about not only the end of the Great War, but desolation..."

"...changed forever was the world..."

"...power permeated all matter on the atomic level and bonded with it. Matter became subject to the whim of those few that could bend the power according to their will; a new aristocracy came about..."

"...old magic of science was forgotten, replaced by the coming of the new magic brought about by the permeation. Science dwindled, all but lost. The world rearranged itself at the commandments of the wyzurds..."
action: You examine the plaque
response: It was a copper plaque, sharply engraved with a fair amount of text.
action: You read the plaque
response: I looked closely at the text. It was incomprehensible, obviously a language, but containing characters that I had never seen before, in English or any other language I had studied.
action: Open case
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

I opened the glass case.
action: You take Book
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

A small edge of the ancient book broke off in my finger tips. It was just too brittle to touch.
action: You open the panel
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

The glass case was not open.
action: You open the panel
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

The rusted panel creaked opened revealing a compartment. It was divided into three sections. Within two were batteries leaving room for one more.
action: You take Device
response: (the large machine)
The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

The large machine was hardly portable.
action: You look in pocket
response: In the pocket was a promise pin.
action: You examine the pin
response: A pin with a faintly luminous blue stone which glowed ever so faintly. It was small, but its considerable value was obvious. I looked at the pin, trying to place it. It was of a very strange design and I was fairly sure that I had never seen it before, but doubt lingered. Perhaps it was Karen's. Some piece of exotic jewlery that had somehow worked its way into the pocket of my labcoat. Strange that I would discover it now, possibly thousands of years after her death.
action: You take the junk
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

The junk art scene was hardly portable.
action: You examine the junk
response: It was junk art -- a little scene fashioned by welding together discarded pieces of machinery. This scene seemed to depict a man (or was it a frog?) sitting at the base of a strange, metallic river holding an umbrella over his head.
action: You take the umbrella
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

I pulled gently on the umbrella. It came free with a soft metallic sound.
action: You take the man
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

The little man was not significant. (It is not necessary to refer to it in the course of this game.)
action: You look at the river
response: The river was contrived from a series of hundreds of washers, several rows across, arranged in such a way as to suggest movement. I wondered at the effort the artist had put into the alignment of these washers. Surely they could not all be so firmly affixed.
action: You take the washer
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

There was a whole river of washers to choose from.
action: You search river
response: I ran my hand along the rows of washers and heard a metallic clinking sound. One of the washers seemed to be loose; perhaps the welding that kept it in place had weakened over time.
action: You take the washer
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

Taken.
action: You look at the umbrella
response: It was a small satellite dish, about the size of a large bowl. What it was originally designed for I could only guess at, but there was a small socket on the bottom where a plug of some kind could be inserted.
action: You look at Device
response: It was small, hand-sized, and if not scrutinized, it could easily have been mistaken for a portable stereo. What looked like a single headphone was actually an electrode which retracted automatically into the device when not being used. There was a dial, broken and spinning freely. There was also a small, red button used to initiate the process.
action: You examine the dial
response: If working, the dial would have adjusted how much energy was channeled into the subject. This translated exactly into how much time it would be eikonized in statue form. In this broken modal, the charge was not being regulated appropriately. The result was that the subject might be frozen as a statue for an hour or ten-thousand years. There was no way of knowing. It didn't matter. A hundred years, a thousand years -- there would be no difference. I sought only to leave this world and its constant reminders of my lost life, my lost love.
action: You open the panel
response: The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

The panel was spring loaded and opened with a click revealing a compartment. It was divided into two sections. Within one was a battery leaving room for one more.
action: You put the umbrella on the plug
response: I plugged the satellite dish into the machine. It clicked into place.
action: You put the battery in the panel
response: (the metallic cube in the panel)
I put the metallic cube into the panel.
action: You put the washer in the funnel
response: The washer disappeared down the funnel. A light flickered on the box for a moment and there was a momentary grinding sound followed by a clink as it reappeared in the tray.
action: You look at the tray
response: A simple metallic tray located at the bottom of the machine. From the looks of it, items dispensed from the machine ended up there. Several holes lined the bottom of the tray.

In the dispenser I could see a washer.
action: You examine it
response: Having been through the serration machine, there were now several notches equally spaced around the circumference. It was now more a gear than a washer.

Several serrated groves line the washer.
action: You take all from the panel
response: 2 metallic cubes : The glowing blue energy tickled momentarily as I came in contact with it, but there was no resistance.

Removed.
action: You put the gear on the lower peg
response: The small gear slipped onto the peg perfectly and with a click, its teeth interlocked with the teeth of the upper two gears. A perfect fit.
action: You put the batteries in the panel
response: 2 metallic cubes : Done.
action: You enter the doorway
response: The hair on my arms and legs stood on end as I stepped through the fluid, plasmatic doorway and emerged into darkness.
The green mage surveyed the museum from the lobby. It was active, and bright. Mages from nearly every order wandered around performing incantations and collecting various pieces of information. Dunamei saw immediately that the ersatz mages had been included in the investigation.

Anger flared within the green mage and showed plainly upon his face. It was an affront to bring the pseudo mages -- the "siontysts" -- into an investigation as delicate as this. They were not mages in any sense of the word. The All did not bend to their will. They were commoners seeking to be equal to mages, nothing more. Why the Overseer chose to back the King's decision and recognize them as a true order was beyond him. Their newly created order of silver was blasphemy. For a fleeting instant Dunamei considered turning all of the charlatans into slugs to make a point. Instead, he made a show of smoothing out wrinkles in his emerald robes while he took several deep, slow breaths to calm himself.

To the matter at hand then: the statue. The boy, Nortoche, had tripped a security spell after breaking into the museum. During questioning he had told a bizarre story of the ancient statue coming to life. It was a story that he continued to tell even after being subjected to truth spells. Highly improbable, but mages had been dispatched only to find that the ancient statue was indeed gone. None of the pieces to this puzzle fit together and there was disagreement between the investigating mages as to the true events.

Well Dunamei would put an end to the doubt. He held his position as Principal Mage for good reason and he would uncover the fate of the statue. Perhaps the walls had something to say about it...

The museum lobby was large and spacious. There were delayed echoes of footsteps resounding from the lofty walls and vaulted ceiling which drew a direct contrast to the quiet calm of the rest of the museum. The building's large, decorative entrance lay open to the South.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.
action: Inventory
response: Dunamei was carrying:
a robe (being worn)
action: You go east
response: A pseudo mage made eye contact with Dunamei as he left. Dunamei grit his teeth and glared at the audacious little worm of a man.

Museum, Statue Exhibit
This was a prominent section of the museum, near the front entrance. It was home to the museum's -- no, the world's -- most prized archeological artifact, known by no other name than the "ancient statue." Like all large artifacts in the museum, a glass case had been erected to house it. All that remained of the case was a collection of glass shards that littered the floor.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. It was a minor spell, probably cast to preserve the crime scene by the museum's security mage once the break-in had been detected. The only exit not barred by light lay west.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.
action: Spells
response: He had the following spells at his disposal:
thespia (Communicate with the inanimate world about recent events) dysparsen (Dispell magik)
frerquoe (Cast fireball)
action: Thespia walls
response: [Thespia can only be cast. No object for this spell need be specified.]
action: Thespia
response: The lighting dimmed and a foggy mist formed. Shapes coalesced in the vapor and appeared to solidify. The real world, in turn, became translucent and strangely dim...

The vision that formed was sharp and clear, as Dunamei expected it would be. Interesting things had happened here of late, things even the inanimate would find interesting.

The missing glass case formed. It contained the famous statue, frozen and lifeless as it had been for all of recorded history. After a few moments someone entered the room. It was Nortoche, whom had just been interviewed. Dunamei was extremely interested in what would happen next, the boy's story had been fantastic and implausible, yet spells had ensured that it was the truth as far as Nortoche believed. The mage fully expected to find some sign of trickery, perhaps an involvement of magik which the boy would not have recognized.

Nortoche pulled out a golden orb. Dunamei recognized it as a magikal artifact. They allowed even commoners to cast spells, but were extremely difficult to come by. Princess Cylest could perhaps come by one, as Nortoche had said, but for political reasons her involvement in this would simply disappear as the orb did when Nortoche threw it, dispelling the ward.

The mage watched closely, now, as the boy opened the glass case and entered it, wanting to miss nothing. But Dunamei saw no sign of magik as the boy looked into the statue's face. The spell responsible for turning the statue from a grey stone color to a pink fleshy color was not obvious. The mage rubbed his eyes as the boy smashed through the glass. What had happened?
Dunamei couldn't believe it. The ancient statue -- alive and mobile!

What sort of spell could have done that?

It didn't surprise Dunamei in the lEast that the statue lived after being transformed into flesh, he had long suspected there was more to it than just the unclassified rock it was made from. What few spells could provide information about the statue suggested the presence of stone organs within the stone statue. What did surprise Dunamei was that someone had been successful at transforming it into flesh. Hundreds of mages from all the guilds had tried in vain to affect the statue in any way. It had stood, impervious to magik, since it had been found, millennia ago.

Then came the security spell, triggered by the smashing of the glass case. It was a flash of light which transported all living creatures from the museum and secured a perimeter around the crime scene until the mages could investigate. When the flash faded, the boy was gone, transported to a holding cell, but the statue -- the man -- remained. Even in life, the statue remained impervious to magik. Dunamei was shaken by this revelation.

As he watched the statue walk -- without even a cramp after being frozen for thousands upon thousands of years -- Dunamei could only think of Noric the exiled. Was he behind this? What evil purpose could he accomplish with this? A minion that was resistant to the mages... Dunamei shivered.

The lighting brightened and the shapes faded as the mist vanished.
action: Go west
response: The museum lobby was large and spacious. There were delayed echoes of footsteps resounding from the lofty walls and vaulted ceiling which drew a direct contrast to the quiet calm of the rest of the museum. The building's large, decorative entrance lay open to the South.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.
action: Thespia
response: Dunamei cast the spell, but nothing happened. The inanimate world had nothing of interest to recount at that location, it seemed.
action: You go to the south-east
response: Museum, Art Exhibit
The exhibits in this room were all of an artistic nature. Ancient sculptures stood proudly erect upon elegant marble pedestals. Colorful oil paintings adorned the walls. Sprawling across the ceiling was a vast and expansive mural, a lasting memorial to a long dead master painter of exquisite skill. In the corner, seemingly out of place yet encased in glass, was an assortment of rubbish arranged in a bizarre fashion.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exits not barred by light lay northwest and southeast.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: Thespia
response: The lighting dimmed and a foggy mist formed. Shapes coalesced in the vapor and appeared to solidify. The real world, in turn, became translucent and strangely dim...

The vision was incomplete, depicting only the man leaving the room. He seemed to be carrying an ancient bowl.

Dunamei shook his head. The "evil mage" as he was depicted in so many children stories seemed to know what he was doing with these ancient artifacts. What other lost knowledge did he know?

The lighting brightened and the shapes faded as the mist vanished.
action: Go southeast
response: Museum, Industrial Exhibit
Manufactured paraphernalia bejeweled the brushed metal walls. A plethora of ancient metallurgical tools and gear fed the industrial motif of this section. The central artifact, encased within glass was a large box-shaped machine.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exits not barred by light lay northwest and southeast.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: Thespia
response: The lighting dimmed and a foggy mist formed. Shapes coalesced in the vapor and appeared to solidify. The real world, in turn, became translucent and strangely dim...

The glass case was open and the awakened statue worked on the artifact, completely unaffected by the glowing blue ward.

What lost magik did this ancient mage wield? Could he be in league with Noric? Did he play some part in Noric's plans? Perhaps. No intelligence had been gathered about Noric's latest works, and many spies had lost their lives while attempting to find out. All indications were that it was a perversion of the arts, something unspeakable, something to be feared, and something that had never been done before. Awakening the ancient statue had certainly never been done before, but hardly seemed perverse. Perhaps it was only part of Noric's larger plan.

Something had happened in the scene, what was it? Dunamei had almost missed it, lost in his own thoughts. The statue mage had put items in and retrieved items from the ancient artifact. Dunamei shook his head in wonder. These visions of the past did nothing to clear up what had happened.

The lighting brightened and the shapes faded as the mist vanished.
action: You go to the south-east
response: Museum, War Exhibit
Ancient weapons adorned the walls. The metallic gleam in the dim lighting furthered an ambiance of war and desolation. The single glass case, centered in this section, contained a large, box-like device the purpose of which was mysteriously non-obvious.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exits not barred by light lay west and northwest.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.
action: Thespia
response: The lighting dimmed and a foggy mist formed. Shapes coalesced in the vapor and appeared to solidify. The real world, in turn, became translucent and strangely dim...

The statue made flesh walked into the room, unaware of Dunamei and the present world, which had faded visibly. He walked purposely over to the case, surrounded by the glowing blue aura, the protection ward. He opened the glass case, passing through the ward effortlessly, then reached in and opened the panel on the contained artifact, something the siontysts claimed endowed the ancient's with great power. They called it a "kompeutre," a type of "ma-sheen." Dunamei always considered the talk rubbish, an attempt to elevate commoners to equality with true mages. He ground his teeth at the their impudence.

There was disruption in the vision, like the blowing of vapor. It reformed, but differently. The man had split into three or four duplicates of himself, but Dunamei recognized it as a nuance of the Thespia spell (the inanimate had little understanding of linear time, and often replayed separate, closely related events simultaneously). Each of the statue doppelgangers seemed to be attaching items to the artifact in the display glass, sometimes overlapping each other like spirits. Dunamei had difficulty following what was happening. Then the duplicates united again and for just a moment, the man stood there clear as day working in some un-guessable fashion on the artifact.

Then the doorway appeared and Dunamei jumped. A collective gasp came from the mages and the pseudo-mages alike. The man had spoken no incantations. He had cast no spells. He had simply worked the "kompeutre" and the spell had been cast. Dunamei frowned. This was a disappointment. It could only serve to feed the growing insurrection of the siontysts. It could only reinforce their demands for equality. They were an enigma, these commoners who presumed themselves equal to the mages.

The lighting brightened and the shapes faded as the mist vanished.
action: You go west
response: A pseudo mage made eye contact with Dunamei as he left. Dunamei grit his teeth and glared at the audacious little worm of a man.

Museum, Peace Exhibit
This was a peaceful, organic section of the museum. Potted plants rested in every corner and climbing ivy worked its way over various crevices and ledges giving a warm, natural feeling. The Northern wall was made up of sections of glass, providing a scenic view of the gardens outside. The loWest section was actually a window with a handle that could be opened. A glass display case containing an open book was featured in this area. An engraved silver plaque on the case glistened in the dim luminosity.

Several paths had been blocked off by beams of yellow light. The only exit not barred by light lay east.

Numerous other mages were here, busily performing various castings in their uncoordinated investigations.

A glowing blue field of light surrounded the glass case.

The air crackled with energy and a sharp and sudden breeze swept the room. A single silvery door appeared. It shimmered and wavered in the air for an instant then solidified. The Principal Mage recognized the Thurais spell and frowned. This could not be good. Thurais was a complex casting that opened a doorway between two locations. The burden upon the caster increased exponentially as a function of distance so the cost usually outweighed the benefit. It was used only in the direst of circumstances.

A messenger mage, clad in a scarlet robe, stepped from the door making the required, continuous gestures to keep the door open. He looked to Dunamei at once. "My lord," he began. "The council has urgent need of you. There has been an occurrence." The red mage paused, lost for a moment in concentration on his gestures, and then continued in a soft, secretive manner. "It concerns Limech," he whispered.

A prickle went up Dunamei's neck. Limech had been a friend, if mages could have friends, and a fellow member of the green order. He had been Darisia's last mole in Noric's faction, the one remaining spy. News had come of something building. Noric the Dark had apparently made a breakthrough in his forbidden works, something big. The hope of the council had been upon Limech's intelligence as to the nature of Noric's new, evil casting. Instead, they had received Limech's heart, cut from his body. Dunamei had delivered the news of Limech's demise to his widow. Her pathetic, sobbing cries continued to haunt him weeks later.
action: Thespia
response: The lighting dimmed and a foggy mist formed. Shapes coalesced in the vapor and appeared to solidify. The real world, in turn, became translucent and strangely dim...

Through the window crawled a dark figure. As the figure stood and stepped into the light, Dunamei recognized the boy, Nortoche. Events had certainly seemed to play out as he had described them, the protection ward had been missing from the window. Dunamei suspected that Princess Cylest truly was involved, as the boy had claimed. Of course there would be no mention of that when this was made public. Nortoche had a history of trouble and would be held solely responsible for this break-in. It was always so when royalty's indiscretions came to light.

The lighting brightened and the shapes faded as the mist vanished.
action: You look at the door
response: The frameless doorway floated in mid-air, a shimmering silver glow. Dunamei recognized it as the Thurais spell. It was an impressive casting, beyond all but the most advanced of mages. Dunamei knew intimately of its intricacies and the toll it took upon the caster's power. It was used only in the most urgent of circumstances.

As he pondered it, Dunamei's mind was drawn to the Thespia images. The awakened statue had cast a similar spell, seemingly based upon principles of the ersatz mages, the "siontysts." Dunamei grit his teeth in disgust.

Sweat dripped from the Messenger Mage's forehead.
action: You enter door
response: Dunamei closed his eyes tightly and braced himself for the predictable tingling as he stepped into the silver spell. As he passed through it, the Thurais casting overwhelmed his tactile senses with prickling sensations over his entire body. The pins and needles subsided as he stepped out on the other side of the door. It was substantially warmer in this new location than in the museum and the floral scent in his nose told the mage immediately that he was outside. Dunamei opened his eyes and looked around to get his bearings. He was in the outskirts of Darisia which bordered the Eastern wastelands.

Behind him he could feel the Thurais spell intensify as the messenger mage followed him through. The doorway vanished then, taking with it most of the light to see by. "The rest of the council awaits you this way, my lord." The envoy's voice quivered slightly as he wandered off to the East.

This was a dark copse of trees near the edge of Darisia. Little was visible, but a small trail led Eastward. Line of sight was obscured by trees, but a commotion of voices indicated a sizable gathering in that direction.
action: You go east
response: Dunamei stepped into a small clearing next to the iron fence. It was illuminated by some minor casting. The entire council was there already, obscuring what they crowded around. Nearest to Dunamei was Caulor the brown, his face pale and disturbed. He gnawed reflexively at his fingernails and sweat beaded across his pudgy brow. Caulor's empty, horrified eyes met the Principal Mage's. Several seconds passed before recognition was reflected in his expression. There was no smile, no nod from his friend. Caulor simply stepped back giving Dunamei room. The other mages, faces drained and vacant, did the same revealing a scene which both repulsed and horrified the green mage.

It was Limech, rotting and decomposed yet standing before them, a mocking affront to Death. He seemed not to take notice of the trembling, imperial guard who held him at sword point.

"My lord," croaked the undead mage, seeing him. Limech took a hobbling step forward. The mages, all save Dunamei, recoiled. Taudorn retreated to the tree line and doubled over, vomiting. The other mages also withdrew then, most retching, leaving the lone commoner guard. Even Bremech the grey, Dunamei noted to himself with delight, bore a pale, sickly hue. The stench of decay waft across Dunamei's nostrils, turning his stomach, but the Principal Mage stood his ground staunchly before his dead friend.

Fringe of Darisia, behind gates
It was the line between hell and paradise. On this side, aided by mage works, the land gave forth grass and trees, life in abundance. But just to the East, on the other side of the ancient iron fence, was a barren wasteland. The Thanatos desert stretched as far as the eye could see. Those banished by the council were sent out into the desert to die by the elements. No creature could survive there, no life whatsoever, or so it was once thought, before Noric.

Limech the undead mage stood there, decay-ridden and held at sword point by an imperial guard.

"My lord," hissed the rotting mage. "It is I, Limech." There was a note of anguish in his voice, as if every moment of his lifeless existence was agony. "I bear news from the dark one." Upon his chest, Dunamei saw the clumsy suture of twine and remembered the heart the courier bird had delivered to the council weeks ago. Attached had been a note scrawled in blood indicating the heart had belonged to Limech. Dunamei had little doubt that it had indeed.

"You are NOT Lord Limech!" shouted the wide-eyed soldier, hysteria cracking his voice. "You are a vile imposter! A profanity!" The long sword quivered in the guard's grip but it remained erect, pointed at the dead mage's torso. "Say the word, Lord Dunamei and I will slay this wicked devil!" Dunamei appraised the soldier for a moment, impressed. He was rightfully terrified, yet this commoner had remained when even mages fled. He thought for a moment, trying to recall the guard's name... Cedreght. Yes, that was it, Cedreght. Dunamei had a new appreciation for this imperial soldier.
action: Ms.
response: ...[MSpk] 213
action: You ask Limech about Noric
response: "And what news of Norioure do you bring, mage Limech?" The animated corpse smiled toothlessly at Dunamei's reference to his mage status and his lip split up to his nostril. Dunamei suppressed a shudder. He could not blot out the memory of the last time he had seen Limech. The mage had been promising. Young and strong, teeming with pink life and energy... it was a striking contrast to the green pallor of his rotting skin now.

"The dark master..." a chill went up Dunamei's spine at the hoarse words. There was no doubt that Noric was indeed Limech's master now. "He is raising..." Limech hunched over here, seized by a fit of coughing. It was a deep, wheezing cough and when it subsided green mucus oozed from Limech's nose and crusted, broken lips. It dripped off of his chin. "He raises an army."

Raises indeed, Dunamei thought to himself.
action: You ask Limech about the army
response: "Tell me of this army," said Dunamei. "How large is it?"

Limech did not answer at first. His empty unfocused eyes stared at nothing. Dunamei looked to see that one of the eyes was twitching spasmodically. He stared at it, a morbid curiosity seizing him. "He raises them all," rasped the dead man. Dunamei froze in place, unable to look away as the vibrating eye was pushed aside by a large, oversized maggot. "All who have died in the wars past are his, now." Limech continued in a hoarse whisper, taking no notice as the worm fell from his eye and disappeared into the foliage.
action: You examine Limech
response: Dunamei looked into the rotting face of his old friend. Black fluid dripped out of the corners of his crusted maw. His chest exposed a crude surgical gash, sewn back together with thick rope or twine. The stench of death was strong.
action: You examine Cedreght
response: Dressed in imperial armor, Cedreght was the finest example of a royal soldier.
action: You kill Limech
response: The lifeless spy was in agony. Limech had been a good mage and deserved better. It was an atrocity and needed to be corrected. Dunamei looked meaningfully at soldier and nodded. "Kill him," he ordered.

The guard hesitated, assessing the dead mage who ignored him entirely. Then he thrust his broadsword into Limech's side. The zombie didn't even flinch. Cedreght pulled his sword free and stepped back, shaken by how little Limech had been affected by his attack. The broadsword was covered to the hilt in black ooze.

Cedreght cast a disturbed glace at Dunamei, awaiting further instructions.
action: You remove the heart
response: Cedreght has better things to do.
action: Spells
response: Dunamei had the following spells at his disposal:
thespia (Communicate with the inanimate world about recent events) dysparsen (Dispell magik)
frerquoe (Cast fireball)
action: Dysparsen limech
response: Dunamei mouthed the incantation and cast the dysparsen spell upon Limech. For a moment there was a visible reaction to the casting, as though the two spells were competing for dominance. Then the spell's potency left, leaving Limech the undead still undead.
action: Frerquoe limech
response: Accompanied by a single gesture, the word sizzled into existence as a blazing fireball which leapt from his finger to Limech.

Limech deserves better than this atrocious waking death, Dunamei said to himself as the fireball spell enveloped the dead mage. The heat burned brightly for a moment cooking the rotten flesh, then subsided. Limech's blackened carcass fell crumbling to the ground.

Dunamei turned to face the Thanatos wasteland. "Message received, Noric." He murmured softly. Then, "Inform the Overseer," Dunamei commanded loudly to all hiding mages. "I am certain he will convene the council." He turned then, without waiting for a response, and stalked down the path to Darisia.
Conrad the Dark was standing on the terrace watching Noric work far below in the volcanic basin.

He was simultaneously horrified and elated. It was appalling to think that Noric had accomplished it, a casting so unimaginably ghastly that it was beyond all the forbidden arts. Yet to watch him actually raise the dead as fast as the servants could bring them... It was exhilarating.

The courier arrived then, flapping its wings and hovering just out of reach. In its beak it held a folded piece of yellow parchment, news from the spies within the empire!

Like most of Norioure, the city of the exiled mages, the terrace was carved directly from the stone of the mountain. This was Conrad's personal balcony and it provided a splendid view of Noric's dark castings far below at the chasm bottom. Drapes covered the doorway into Conrad's quarters to the South.

A messenger bird, gripping a yellow parchment in its beak, hovered off the terrace edge, just out of arm's reach. Its wings were beating as rapidly as a bumblebee's.
action: Spells
response: Conrad had the following spell at his disposal:
maesmur (Mesmerize a creature)
action: Maesmur bird
response: Conrad spoke the word of power and make the appropriate gestures. The messenger bird's eyes glazed over as the casting came upon it.

Conrad had been interested in the actions of the newly undead and had watched them for many days. Many retained memories of life. Some even understood that they were no longer numbered among the living. All were in despair. They cried out, those that yet retained their voices.
action: You give the parchment to you
response: The bird stretched out its neck, trying to obey the command in its most literal form, but could not. Hu   mrv      c
action: You come
response: The messenger bird came to rest upon the ground.
action: You take the parchment
response: The parchment was held firmly in the beak of the messenger bird. The couriers were bred with beefy muscles to keep possession of their messages and would not allow them too simply be taken from them. It was instinct.

Cries of agony echoed up from the basin.
action: You drop the parchment
response: Dropped.
action: You take the parchment
response: Taken.

For a moment, Conrad took notice of an animated corpse far below. It croaked indistinguishable cries of anguish. At first, it seemed to the mage that the undead man might be weeping but no, he was not. Decay had washed over his face some time ago, so how could he have been crying with no eyes?
action: You read it
response: The mage opened the parchment and looked at the three words it contained:

It took a moment for him to wrap his mind around the statement. It was uncanny. Conrad had been quick to dismiss the initial jumble of reports that the ancient statue had awakened, but now he had received confirmation. It was unbelievable. He furrowed his brow, trying to calculate any affect upon the plan. His eyes wandered to the proceedings below.

Conrad watched Noric's pale face fixed in a scowl of determination. He had worked tirelessly for weeks, breaking not even for sleep from his necromancy. There was little doubt that Noric had lost his mind; the madness shown unmistakably in his eyes. Each casting seemed to take a toll upon Noric's lucidity, as though each new zombie required a sacrifice of sanity; but what Noric had achieved!

Conrad admired the moving mass of the risen decaying, the mementos of countless wars with Darisia brought forth to do Noric's bidding. It was a massive army that stretched as far as he could see. The power of this military force was immeasurable, the risen soldiers were innumerable. No, he decided at once. It didn't matter that the ancient statue had awoken. Nothing could protect Darisia from this army of rot. Soon the empire would fall and Darisia would see the triumphant return of the exiled mages!
Congratulations! You've just completed the first six chapters of "The Mage Wars: Statue." Look for the completed game sometime before March 2004!