Molly and the Butter Thieves
by Alice Grove (as Cosmic Hamster) (2015)
Genres: Fantasy

You are Molly Butterfield, dairy farmer extraordinaire. In the past week there have been two mysterious butter disappearances from your own kitchen. There will not be a third.

action: %
response: Conversations in this game use keywords.

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an existing story.
action: You go north
response: You are Molly Butterfield, dairy farmer extraordinaire. You have the finest cows and the sweetest butter for miles around, and word of it has spread far and wide.

Perhaps too far.

In the past week there have been two mysterious butter disappearances from your own kitchen. There will not be a third.

This time, you'll be lying in wait for the thief. And you'll be armed with a fire poker.
action: You examine the dish
response: A china dish shows off an exquisite specimen of butter, round from the butter mold and stamped with your signature imprint of a flower.

With all the labor that goes into making butter, you feel a twinge of regret that you're sacrificing it to lure a thief, and on a beautiful dish passed down from your grandparents, to boot. But you're determined to find out who has been stealing your butter, and why.

You hear a cow lowing outside--unusual for this time of night. Something must have startled Millicent.
action: You examine the poker
response: An iron fire poker, useful for scaring off intruders if necessary.

The door creaks open, revealing a sliver of night.
action: You examine the door
response: The front door is open.

Glimmering points of light float in through the doorway like different colored fireflies.
action: You look at the points
response: Points of light drift and flicker like tiny luminescent butterflies.

The flickering points of light drift towards your fancy plate of butter. Now the butter dish is rising into midair. The butter dish balances, then hovers towards the front door, accompanied by the lights.
action: You close the door
response: Not now!

The butter on its dish floats through the doorway, surrounded by the glimmering sparks, and then the door closes behind it.

You let out the breath you've been holding and lay down the fire poker. You won't be needing a heavy thing like that to deal with a couple of sparks. You're better off using your wits, and if need be, your fists. Now, where's that thief off to?
action: You go outside
response: It's shadowy in the yard. You can just make out the red water pump in the moonlight. The farmhouse stands to the west, and the forest to the east. There ought to be a path into the forest, but you can make out only a tangle of trees.

White pebbles glint in the grass.

Points of light drift and flicker, carrying with them the dish of butter.

The glimmering lights are making their way slowly east across the field.
action: You take the pebbles
response: You scoop up a generous handful of pebbles.

The glimmering lights are making their way slowly east across the field.
action: Pump pump
response: You sidle over to the bright red water pump and begin pumping water. The thief startles at the noise and vanishes along with the coveted butter.
action: You go east
response: You feel as though you have entered not one forest, but two. The trees you've always known are still here, but tonight new trees have joined them, and an unfamiliar mass of wild brambles has overtaken most of the ground. The new vegetation intersects the old and grows right through it, unaffected by its presence. A stream flows through the center of it all.

You know every path through the forest--this is your home, after all. But tonight you're not sure you'll be able to find your way back.

Unless, perhaps, you have something to mark the way.
action: You drop the pebble
response: Good idea! You'll leave a trail of pebbles as you go through the strange forest so you'll be able to find your way back. (You are
now leaving a trail of pebbles automatically.)
You drop some pebbles on the ground.
action: You examine trees
response: Strange, otherworldy plants and trees surround you.

The colored points of light float slowly south with the fancy dish of butter, staying well away from the stream.
action: Go south
response: A clearing in the heart of the double-natured forest. Unfamiliar vines hang down through familiar trees, and strange toadstools grow near a hollow log that wasn't here before this evening.

You drop some pebbles on the ground.
action: You examine the toadstools
response: Strange, otherworldy plants and trees surround you.

The colored points of light float slowly southeast with the fancy dish of butter.
action: You take the vine
response: The surrounding forest seems so strange, almost threatening. You don't trust it far enough to do anything with it.

The thief is going southeast, and is almost out of sight.
action: You go southeast
response: The trees are sparse here at the edge of the forest, and the ground slopes down to the east. Well, some of it does. A spongy layer of ground with tall grass and another layer that's rocky are oddly interwoven with each other.

As you make your way through the grass, you stop for a moment. You've seen this place before.

Haven't you?

You drop the last of your pebbles on the ground.

The colored points of light float slowly east with the fancy dish of butter.
action: You go to the east
response: You stand in a moonlit bog at the bottom of a valley. Mist drifts across the spongy turf, and amidst the fog, floating in midair, is the ghostly outline of a castle, draped with ivy and flowers. An almost transparent bridge leads east across the mud to its front door. The tangled forest lies to the west, and to the northwest is the opening to a small cave.
action: You look at the castle
response: The ghostly form of a castle stands to the east, across the bridge. The castle walls look as if they are not quite solid. Or not quite...there.

The thief is floating toward the bridge.
action: Go east
response: You march up to the bridge and, as you step forward, find it to be just as unsubstantial as it looks. You fall through it as though it were air, and land splat in the mud.

The thief floats east across the bridge with the butter.

A new cluster of lights comes into view, lavender and rose and green. The lights drift back and forth on this side of the bridge.
action: You stand
response: You get out of the mud.
action: You look at the cluster
response: Floating here is a twisting constellation of glimmering lights, lavender and rose and green. Here and there the points of light lengthen into lines, suggesting edges of petals and fluttering fabric.
action: You talk to the cluster
response: "Hail, bold mortal. Welcome to our banquet," says a voice.

You choose a focal point amongst the floating lights and say "Good evening," annoyed that you don't know whom you're addressing.

"You may call me 'Your Majesty,'" says the voice, answering your unspoken question. "It is only edges and glimpses of us you see now. But tonight our worlds converge for a while, and as the night
draws on, you may see us in our true form."

(Please type a keyword to proceed.)
action: Form
response: "Yes, mortal, we are of the fair folk," says the voice. "You cannot see this, for we are not yet fully in your world, nor you in ours. But we are happy to share what we have as the worlds come together, even a crossing into our realm, should you desire it."

(You could type banquet or
converge.)
action: Converge
response: The voice answers. "Every so often the world of faerie and the world of humans pass through each other, and while the worlds converge, we may mingle."

(You could type banquet.)
action: Banquet
response: "Our banquet is held in the castle there, across the bridge," says the voice. "Do not neglect to bring a fairy flower with you."

"I have tarried here long enough. I must go. See to the flower, mortal," says the voice, and the lights vanish.
action: You look around
response: You stand in a moonlit bog at the bottom of a valley. Mist drifts across the spongy turf, and amidst the fog, floating in midair, is the ghostly outline of a castle, draped with ivy and flowers. An almost transparent bridge leads east across the mud to its front door. The tangled forest lies to the west, and to the northwest is the opening to a small cave.
action: Go northwest
response: A small cave in the rock, large enough to walk a little, but no more. Overgrown tree roots and flowering vines camouflage the cave opening to the southeast.

A ledge in the wall of the cave forms a natural seat. It gives you a curious feeling to look at it.
action: You sit on the seat
response: You sit on the stone seat and when you look at the cave from your new perspective, you are cast adrift in a sea of memory: the look of
the vines hanging in the doorway, dark against the moon. Flower shadows on the wall. Sitting on the smooth stone seat with your legs dangling, not long enough to touch the ground. Fragments of
forgotten dreams.

If they were dreams.
action: You look at the vines
response: Overgrown tree roots and flowering vines camouflage the cave opening to the southeast. The blossoms on the vines look oddly faint.
action: You take the flower
response: The flowers look more like tricks of the light than real blossoms. As you reach for one you wonder if you'll be able to touch it at all. But you can, and once you've picked the flower, it seems more solid, somehow.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying:
a fairy flower
action: Smell flower
response: It smells both sweet and bitter.
action: You examine the flower
response: A blossom you picked from the flowering vine. On the vine it looked faint, as though it were not quite present, but now that you've picked it, it looks more solid, somehow.
action: You stand
response: You get off the natural seat.

A small cave in the rock, large enough to walk a little, but no more. Overgrown tree roots and flowering vines camouflage the cave opening to the southeast.

A ledge in the wall of the cave forms a natural seat.
action: You go outside
response: You go to leave. A rainstorm was raging that night. That must
have been why you were lost, though you thought you knew the path. But you found a cave and crept in, and sat on the ledge, and began to sing to yourself in the dark.

Curious children, about your own age, peeped into the cave, and
came in. By the end of the song you had a small audience sitting on the floor.

"I've never heard that lullaby before," one of them said.

"My mother always sings it to me during a storm," you said.

"The fairies don't sing about rain. They don't seem to like it
much."

"What fairies?"

"The ones who live over yonder. But don't worry--you're safe for
now. Sing us another."

You stand in a moonlit bog at the bottom of a valley. Mist drifts across the spongy turf, and amidst the fog, floating in midair, is the ghostly outline of a castle, draped with ivy and flowers. An almost transparent bridge leads east across the mud to its front door. The tangled forest lies to the west, and to the northwest is the opening to a small cave.
action: You touch the bridge
response: You touch the bridge, and it feels solid. You can't help but feel that the flower has something to do with it.
action: You go to the east
response: As you step onto the bridge, unsure if it will support you, you grip your flower.

The bridge holds, and you cross.

A table stretches from one end of the hall to the other, spread with a fine banquet, and seated along the table are scores of fairies. Other fairies are walking through with pitchers and silver trays, periodically disappearing through a set of doors to the north. There is a great deal of laughter and singing going on.

Your dish of butter is nowhere to be seen.

"Psst! Molly!" whispers a voice.

You turn, and over in the corner, waving at you, is none other than Tom the Baker.

Tom, the man who jilted your friend Lucinda seven years ago. A midsummer wedding had been planned, but on the appointed day, he never showed up. No one ever saw him around after that.

And to think all this years he's been here enjoying himself! You hardly know whether to ignore him, or give him a piece of
your mind.

(Please enter a keyword to proceed.)
action: Mind
response: You march forward, ready to light into him, but he is the first to speak.

"I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am that I was not there to marry Lucinda. But I must tell you this: do not drink the
wine the fairies offer you. Once you drink it, you cannot
leave the fairy realm."

paper.
action: Paper
response: He hands you a folded letter with "LUCINDA" written on the outside.

"I would be so grateful if you would give this letter to Lucinda," he says.

(You could type wine.)
action: Wine
response: You ask him about the wine.

"You see over there some others you may know," says Tom, "the midwife, the miller's son. They, too, drank the fairy wine. It is not meant for humans; it binds us to the realm of faerie. None of us can ever go home again."

You look over at the familiar faces, laughing and carrying on. They take no notice of you.

"Don't they see me?" you ask.

"If you drink enough, you forget those you knew. You forget
the human world. Our friends over there can't remember any life other than this."
action: You forget
response: "If you are imprisoned here forever," you say, "then don't you wish to forget what you have lost, as the others have done?"

"Many times I have wanted to forget entirely," says Tom. "But I hoped for the day when someone would visit from the human world, as you have. Someone who could deliver this letter to Lucinda."

"And besides," he continues, "if I were to forget, how could I warn others who might come in, unsuspecting, like you? The fairies may have trapped my body in this world," says Tom. "But they cannot trap my will."

"Please, give Lucinda the letter," he says. "And remember what I said about the wine."

Seeing a fairy approach, Tom slips away.
action: You examine the server fairy
response: A fairy offering drinks to the guests.

A fairy greets you and offers you a goblet of some purplish, sweet-smelling liquid. You debate whether to say thank you or
to decline. (Please enter a keyword to proceed.)
action: You look at the goblet
response: A silver goblet full of a purplish liquid.
action: You examine table
response: You've seen enough to know that your dish of butter is not in the Banquet Hall. There's no use wasting more time on the banquet.
action: You go to the north
response: (first opening set of doors)

Precariously-stacked dishes fill much of the scullery. Along the north edge of the room, behind a half-wall, is a long channel with a stream of water running through it. A grating across the floor is meant to drain any stray water. A set of doors to the south leads back into the banquet hall, and a little wooden door leads west.

Among the stacks of dishes is your beautiful china butter dish passed down from your grandparents. You were beginning to think you'd never see it again!
action: You look at the dish
response: It's your fancy butter dish that you laid out to lure the thief! With not a trace of butter left on it.
action: You take it
response: Taken.
action: You examine the channel
response: Water splashes into the channel through an opening in one end of the room and flows out again at the other end. A thick half-wall divides the channel from the rest of the scullery. It's clear that the stream of water is meant for washing dishes, but the height and thickness of the wall must make it difficult.

You puzzle over the thick half-wall and the long grating. The fairies seem to have gone to a lot of trouble to keep the floor dry.
action: Pour goblet
response: You glance around to make sure no one is watching, then pour the contents of the goblet over your shoulder. You hear a hiss as the liquid burns a hole in the floor.
action: Go west
response: You doubt the fairies would appreciate you taking their silver goblet home with you.
action: You drop the goblet
response: Dropped.
action: Go west
response: (first opening the little wooden door)

You stand in a moonlit bog at the bottom of a valley. Mist drifts across the spongy turf, and amidst the fog, floating in midair, is the ghostly outline of a castle, draped with ivy and flowers. An almost transparent bridge leads east across the mud to its front door. The tangled forest lies to the west, and to the northwest is the opening to a small cave.

Oh, no. There's a fairy here, and she's already seen you! You stroll by, doing your best not to call attention to the dish you're carrying.

"What is this?" says the fairy. "Is this how you repay our hospitality, mortal? How dare you steal our fine dish! Give it to me!"

You recognize that voice.

"Pardon, Your Majesty," you say, "but I won't have you calling it yours when one of your thieving fairies stole it first!"

Alas, diplomacy was never your strong suit. The Queen goes inside to fetch the other fairies, and soon they are pouring out of the castle, chasing after you.

I hope you know your way home, Molly. There's no time to dilly-dally!
action: You go west
response: The trees are sparse here at the edge of the forest, and the ground slopes down to the east. Well, some of it does. A spongy layer of ground with tall grass and another layer that's rocky are oddly interwoven with each other.

A trail of pebbles leads northwest and east.

A memory...

After the rain died down on the night of the storm, the singing
came to an end and your little friends whispered, nudging you towards the forest. "You'd better go. If the Fairy Queen catches sight of you she might decide she'd like another servant."

"What if the fairies should come after me?" you asked.

"If you're quiet, they'll never know you were here. But if they
follow you, look for the dewleaf, which grows by running water. The fairies cannot follow you through water. Dip the leaf in water, and when you stand outside your home, throw the leaf down on the ground. Then you'll be safe."

"What does the leaf--"

"Shh--they'll come looking for us any minute. You must go!
Goodbye!"
action: You go northwest
response: A clearing in the heart of the double-natured forest. Unfamiliar vines hang down through familiar trees, and strange toadstools grow near a hollow log that wasn't here before this evening.

A trail of pebbles leads north and southeast.
action: You go to the north
response: It looks as though there is not one forest here, but two. The trees you've always known are still here, but tonight new trees have joined them, and an unfamiliar mass of wild brambles has overtaken most of the ground. The new vegetation intersects the old and grows right through it, unaffected by its presence. A stream flows through the center of it all.

A strange bush by the stream catches your eye.

A trail of pebbles leads west and south.
action: You examine the bush
response: The low bush has leaves like slices of water: clear, with ripples of light running from tip to tip as though across the surface of a stream.
action: You take leaf
response: You gently pull a dewleaf from the bush.
action: You put it in the stream
response: You dip the dewleaf into the stream. Soon the leaf begins to glow, and you draw it out again.
action: You go west
response: It's shadowy in the yard. You can just make out the red water pump in the moonlight. The farmhouse stands to the west, and the forest to the east.
action: You throw the leaf
response: You throw down the glowing wet dewleaf, and as it hits the ground, the earth begins to shake.

A crack appears in the ground, and you leap out of the way as it lengthens and widens.....
And the crack in the ground deepens into a trench, rapidly snaking around the farmhouse....
And then you hear a loud rush of water, and the trench becomes a river, completely encircling your home....

And then you catch sight of two more dishes being swept down the stream: the ones that disappeared when your butter was stolen before. You grab them as they approach....
Then the fairies arrive from the east, a whole crowd of them, hopping mad. They gather on the opposite side of the river and command you to give them the dishes.

You decline.

"Now if you'll excuse me," you say, "it's almost morning, and the milking won't wait. And then I've got an important letter to deliver."

And the fairies never trouble you again.