moli pi toki nasa (FKA Death off the Cuff)
by Simon Christiansen (2010)
Genres: Mystery

They all stare at you expectantly, like children waiting to be told a bedtime story. Who can blame them? You are, after all, Antoine Saint Germain, the great French detective. No criminal has ever been a match for you, and everybody is looking forward to a description of your brilliant deductions. There is just one small problem. One tiny detail that makes it different this time. A mere trifle, really. This time you have no idea who did it.

action: %
response: "I assume you have gathered us here for a reason, Monsieur Saint Germain?", says Shane Pearson.

"Is it not obvious?" says the Doctor. "The detective has figured out who killed the Colonel and intends to explain to us how he did it."

You twirl your moustache. "The good Doctor is correct, Mademoiselle Pearson. I have indeed solved the case. The murderer was clever, but he proved no match for my gray matter." You tap a finger against the side of your head to illustrate the point.

They all stare at you expectantly, like children waiting to be told a bedtime story. And who can blame them? You are, after all, Anthony Saint Germain, the great French detective. No criminal has ever been a match for you, and everybody is looking forward to a description of your brilliant deductions.

There is just one small problem. One tiny detail that makes it different this time. A mere trifle, really. This time you have no idea who did it. An entire day of investigation have turned up nothing. No one even seems to have a damn motive.

No matter. Most of the time when you do this the murderer breaks down and confesses half way through your speech anyway. All you have to do is stall and wait for the guilty party to slip up. People love talking about themselves. If you wait long enough, they always end up revealing something you can use.

It is going to be fine.

The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A large couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

James Garfield, the owner of Seafront Hotel, is standing by the clock, watching you expectantly.

Jonathan Allington stands next to Mr. Garfield, his employer. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Elias Mole is sitting next to Shane in the couch, leaning forward with an inquisitive look in his eyes.

Count Heinrich Von Carstein is leaning backwards in the reclining chair, sipping a glass of wine.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.

"Death Off the Cuff" is a conversation based game where you need to talk about various things to move the plot forward. This is accomplished by typing "TALK ABOUT SOMETHING", or simply "T SOMETHING" for convenience. "Something" can be anything you can see in the environment. You will often have more than one thing to say about the same object.

You can only talk about visible objects, not just arbitrary topics.

Occasionally, talking about something or someone will bring up a menu with various options for what to say. If you don't like any of the options, you can simply change the topic by talking about something else instead.

Talking doesn't solve every problem, though. You may also need to physically interact with things and people to progress.

Make sure you examine your surrounding regularly. You might notice new things.

If you get stuck, typing "HINT" or "HELP" will provide a hint on what to do in the current situation. There is usually more than one hint available for a given scene, so if the first one doesn't help the next one might.

Typing "WALKTHRU" will provide detailed instructions on how to finish the game.

Lastly, I would like thank my testers: Katzy, Brooks Reeves and John Murphy.
action: About yourself
response: You are as good looking as ever, but your confident demeanor hides a gnawing uncertainty. Hopefully, no one will notice. You are wearing your trademark black bowler hat, and your moustache is impeccably groomed.
action: You talk james
response: (James Garfield)
[1] Motive
[2] Alibi
[3] General comments
action: 3
response: "Mr. Garfield did not seem to have any connection to the victim. He had been running the hotel by himself since his wife died two years ago. Before starting the hotel he was a lieutenant in the british army. None of this information seemed to be of any use at first, but my investigation was not over."

[1] Motive
[2] Alibi
action: 1
response: "I considered Monsieur Garfield. In the days before the murder several witnesses overheard the two men furiously  arguing. Monsieur Garfield insists that the Colonel was simply impossible to please. I knew that Mr. Garfield had often complained of the stress of running the hotel. Was it possible that he had simply snapped during a later argument? It seemed almost too simple."

James sneers. "Of course it is. If you really think I would kill a man over a simple disagreement then your reputation has been severely exaggerated."

You nod politely. "As part of my investigation, I consider every option, Monsieur."

[1] Alibi
action: 1
response: "Mr. Garfields alibi seemed to exclude him from the list of possible suspects. The Colonel's pocket watch had stopped at 02:30 when he was stabbed. Doctor Mole confirmed the time of death.

At 02:35 James Garfield was awoken by his employee, Mr. Allington, who informed him that one of the guests had had a terrible nightmare and had requested some medication to help her sleep. It is highly unlikely that mister Garfield could have sprinted back to his room after commiting the murder, washed off the blood, changed into his pajamas and gotten into bed. No, if Mr. Garfield had commited the murder, the Doctor was either wrong about the time of death, or Mr. Allington was in on it."

Jonathan Allington raises an eyebrow.
action: You look around
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A large couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

James Garfield, the owner of Seafront Hotel, is standing by the clock, watching you expectantly.

Jonathan Allington stands next to Mr. Garfield, his employer. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Elias Mole is sitting next to Shane in the couch, leaning forward with an inquisitive look in his eyes.

Count Heinrich Von Carstein is leaning backwards in the reclining chair, sipping a glass of wine.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: You talk jonathan
response: [1] Motive
[2] Alibi
[3] General comments
action: 3
response: "Jonathan Allington seemed like an inconspicuous waiter, but this did not stop me from from considering him as a suspect. Servants are often ignored, and savvy criminals have managed to exploit this fact."

[1] Motive
[2] Alibi
action: 1
response: "Monsieur Allington did not appear to have any motive for killing the Colonel. However, I knew that the Colonel had frequently complained about the hotel. Was it possible that the waiter might have taken that personally? A petty reason for murder, to be sure, but I have learned that human nature can be very petty indeed."

[1] Alibi
action: 1
response: "Several people saw Mr. Allington at the time when the murder was commited. At around 02:30 he heard screaming from the room of Shane Pearson and went to investigate. It turned out she was having a nightmare. Afterwards, he went to his boss and told him what had happened. Both people have confirmed this story."
action: You examine James
response: (James Garfield)
His impeccable business suit stands in stark contrast to his unruly hair and full beard. He seems perpetually stressed out from running the hotel by himself, but things seem to have worked out for him so far. The Seafront hotel has made itself a reputation as a place of respite, and several important people go here to relax.
action: You examine Jonathan
response: He is dressed in a tuxedo with a black bow tie. Unlike everyone else, his face betrays no curiosity, nor any other feelings.
action: You examine Shane
response: Shane Pearson is a tall slender woman with semi long blond hair that just barely reaches her shoulders. Her book, How Blue Was the Sky, recently hit the bestseller list. What she is doing in England is anyones guess.
action: 1
response: "Shane Pearson did not appear to have any motive for the crime, but Monsieur Saint Germain is never deceived by appearances. She is a writer, and a writer is always looking for new inspiration. Perhaps she had decided to take her research a step too far."

"I don't write crime novels," says Shane. "I always found the genre rather tawdry."

[1] Alibi
[2] General comments
action: 2
response: "I investigated Mademoiselle Pearson. There did not seem to be anything suspicious about her. She had recently achieved a minor hit with her newest novel and had now gone to England on vacation. It seemed highly unlikely that she could have known the victim."

[1] Alibi
action: 1
response: "At around 02:30 Mademoiselle Pearson was awoken by Jonathan Allington who told her she had been screaming. Apparently, she had been having a bad nightmare. There did not seem to be any way she could have been the murderer, unless she was working with Jonathan."
action: You look around
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A large couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

James Garfield, the owner of Seafront Hotel, is standing by the clock, watching you expectantly.

Jonathan Allington stands next to Mr. Garfield, his employer. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Elias Mole is sitting next to Shane in the couch, leaning forward with an inquisitive look in his eyes.

Count Heinrich Von Carstein is leaning backwards in the reclining chair, sipping a glass of wine.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: 3
response: "I turned my attention to the young Doctor. He was the one who had examined John McClaren. According to his examinations, the poor Colonel had been first sedated with laudanum in his wine, then stabbed three times with a knife. All fingerprints had been wiped from the knife after the grisly deed was done. His pocket watch had apparently been struck by the knife and had stopped at exactly 02:30. The doctors examinations confirmed that time of death could have occured at that hour. The Doctor himself had no alibi for the time of the murder."

[1] Motive
[2] Alibi
action: 1
response: "The Doctor did not at first seem to be a likely suspect. He was successful and had nothing to gain from the death of the Colonel."

[1] Alibi
action: 1
response: "The Doctor had no alibi for the time of the murder. If he was the murderer, it would have been easy for him to simply estimate the time of death to a time where he couldn't possible have been there."
action: 3
response: "My inital investigations into the Count turned up little of interest. He seemed to be simply a rich member of the German nobility who had decided to take a vacation in england. However, sinister things are often hidden behind a mask of innocence."

[1] Motive
[2] Alibi
action: 1
response: "I could detect no conceivable reason why the Count might have wanted to kill the Colonel. They had been observed talking together several times, but their relationship seemed amicable."

[1] Alibi
action: 1
response: "The Count had no alibi for the time of the murder. He claimed to have been fast asleep, but no one could confirm it. I kept him in mind as a possible suspect, but I still needed a motive."
action: 3
response: "Once the body had been discovered I phoned Scotland Yard and Detective Goodfellow showed up immediately. Unfortunately, he was unable to discover any clues to the identity of the murderer, leaving it up to me to solve the crime, as usual."

Detective Goodfellow seems almost tempted to defend himself, but in the end he just shrugs and keeps quiet. The detectives of Scotland Yard have learned to respect your superior intellect.

[1] Motive
[2] Alibi
action: 1
response: "It hardly seemed likely that detective Goodfellow had anything to do with the murder, but I always consider every possibility, no matter how unlikely."

[1] Alibi
action: You examine Doctor
response: Doctor Elias Mole is a young handsome Doctor. Recently graduated from medical school, he has just opened his own practice in London.
action: You examine the moustache
response: Your black moustache is impeccably groomed.
action: You talk it
response: "I have always felt that the quality of a persons character can be determined from how he takes care of his facial hair. I myself keep my moustache impeccably groomed."
action: Examine count
response: The German Count seems to be in his early sixties. He is relaxing in the reclining chair, sipping a glass of red wine, while watching the proceedings with a slightly bored look. Both his hair and his beard are almost entirely white.
action: You look at beard
response: (Heinrichs beard)
The Count is regularly scratching his beard, almost as if he wasn't used to it.
action: You talk it
response: "I noticed the counts beard. He did not seem to be used to it, which aroused my curiosity. A full beard takes a while to grow and the Count claimed to have had it for years. Things did not add up."

The Count sighs. "I figured we would get here sooner or later." His German accent seems to have mysteriously disappeared. "It's obvious that Mr. Germain has seen through my disguise. I might as well come clean."

With a single smooth movement of his hand, he removes the beard revealing the face of a much younger man in his thirties. "My real name is Sylvester Starfield. I am an investigative reporter with the London Tribune, currently doing a series of articles on the actions of the intelligence service during the war. After I realized that the Colonel had been working for MI6 during the war, I disguised myself as "Count von Carstein" and checked into the seafront hotel to get close to him. I had nothing to do with the murder, though. I just wanted to see if I could make him reveal some information."
action: You talk sylvester
response: [1] Research
[2] Motive
[3] Accuse Sylvester Starfield
action: 1
response: "After I learned that Mr. Starfield had been researching the Colonel, I investigated his research. What I found put the case in a whole new light."

"I can imagine that it would," says Sylvester to your great relief. "I discovered some pretty interesting things about the Colonel. He made many enemies during the war, in particular a certain German agent who swore revenge. Unfortunately, I was unable to discover the name of this agent. He is also supposed to have sired an illegitimate child which he subsequently abandoned."

[1] Motive
[2] Accuse Sylvester Starfield
action: 1
response: "After finding out the true identity of Sylvester Starfield, I considered him a viable suspect. Here was a journalist looking for a good story; what better way to get it than to make it himself? A lurid murder would be bound to sell papers."

"I resent that comment," says Sylvester. "As a journalist, I report the news; I do not make them. And I am not a murderer."

[1] Accuse Sylvester Starfield
action: You talk sylvester
response: [1] Motive
[2] Accuse Sylvester Starfield
action: 2
response: "There was no doubt in my mind; Sylvester Starfield had killed the Colonel to further his journalistic career. Detective, arrest the murderer."

"This is ridiculous," says Sylvester while being handcuffed. "I will make sure this gets into all the papers. The people will know what a hack you are."

He does, but no one believes him. After all, who would doubt the word of the worlds greatest detective? Even though Sylvester Starfield is never convicted, his career is over, and a year later he is found hanging from the roof of his flat.
action: You examine Shane
response: Shane Pearson is a tall slender woman with semi long blond hair that just barely reaches her shoulders. Her book, How Blue Was the Sky, recently hit the bestseller list. What she is doing in England is anyones guess.
action: You talk the hair
response: (Shanes hair)
"Mademoiselle Pearson's hair was blond. Perhaps a bit too blond."

Shane rolls her eyes. "Ok, so I dye my hair. I am actually a brunette. Is that really germane to the case?"
action: You talk the hair
response: (Shanes hair)
You can't think of anything to say.
action: Look around
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A large couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

James Garfield, the owner of Seafront Hotel, is standing by the clock, watching you expectantly.

Jonathan Allington stands next to Mr. Garfield, his employer. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Elias Mole is sitting next to Shane in the couch, leaning forward with an inquisitive look in his eyes.

Sylvester Starfield, the journalist, is sitting upright in the reclining chair taking notes on a notepad.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: You talk the notepad
response: "As a Journalist, Mr. Starfield would of course be carrying a notepad."

"Of course," says Sylvester. "I need to make sure I get all the details. This is going to make a great story."
action: You examine the reclining chair
response: The backrest is no longer tilted back. Instead of a decadent Count, the chair is now occupied by an inquisitive journalist.
action: You examine the couch
response: A black leather couch. It looks pleasant enough, but you can't afford to relax right now.
action: You talk couch
response: "I noticed that the lounge contained what seemed to be a very expensive leather couch. The hotel appeared to be doing very well."

"It is," says James. "I have managed to attract a very affluent clientele."
action: You examine James
response: (James Garfield)
His impeccable business suit stands in stark contrast to his unruly hair and full beard. He seems perpetually stressed out from running the hotel by himself, but things seem to have worked out for him so far. The Seafront hotel has made itself a reputation as a place of respite, and several important people go here to relax.
action: You examine the suit
response: A black pin striped business suit that fits him like a glove. There is a bump in the right pocket of his pants.
action: You examine the bump
response: James seems to be carrying something in the right pocket of his pants.
action: You talk bump
response: "I quickly noticed that Mr. Garfield seemed to be carrying something in his pocket. Unusual, since you are not supposed to carry large items in the pockets of a suit. It ruins the look."

Mr. Garfield seems embarrassed. "Well, it seems you have discovered my little secret, Mr. German."

"Germain. And yes, I have. Perhaps you would like to show the others what it is you are carrying, Monsieur Garfield?"

"I suppose I might as well, since you have obviously figured it out already." He puts his hand in his pocket and produces a gleaming 38 revolver.
action: You examine the revolver
response: A 38 revolver. It seems to be loaded.
action: You talk revolver
response: "Based on the shape of the object in Mr. Garfields pocket, I quickly deduced that he was carrying a firearm. This was an interesting fact. Why would a peaceful hotel owner feel the need to be armed?"

"You don't have to play with me any longer, Mr. Germain", says James. "I was not always just a hotel owner. In fact, I changed my name after the war to avoid my enemies. My original name was Brian Holmes. During the war I worked for MI6 doing Special Ops behind enemy lines. The Colonel was in my unit. When he was killed, I feared our enemies had finally caught up with us. So, naturally, I armed myself."

"I had reached a turning point in my investigation," you continue. "Not only had the Colonel turned out to be a former secret agent, but his colleague was even running the hotel. Mr. Starfields research turned up several new avenues of investigation. It seemed likely that the Colonel's past had finally caught up with him. Perhaps his German nemesis had managed to track him down. Or maybe his illegitimate son had decided to seek revenge for being abandoned. I continued my investigations with renewed vigor."
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A soft, expensive leather couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

Brian Holmes, the former secret agent, is standing by the clock.

Jonathan Allington stands next to Mr. Garfield, his employer. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Elias Mole is sitting next to Shane in the couch, his arms crossed in front of him.

Sylvester Starfield, the journalist, is sitting upright in the reclining chair taking notes on a notepad.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: You look at Holmes
response: The man you used to know as James Garfield. He looks much the same as he did before, but there is now a shrewd look in his eyes.
action: You talk holmes
response: [1] War career
[2] Motive
[3] Accuse Brian Holmes
action: 1
response: "Once I realized that Mr. Garfield was not who he seemed to be, I quickly determined his true identity. The fact that he had worked with the Colonel during the war changed everything. It now seemed likely that the Colonel's untimely death was related to his clandestine career."

"How on earth did you discover these things?" says Brian. "Those records are still classified."

"I have my methods, Monsieur," you say, while tapping your finger against the side of your head. "I observe everything, and what I cannot observe I deduce. Please allow me to finish my account and everything will soon become clear."

Everyone will hopefully have forgotten about this by the time you are done.

[1] Motive
[2] Accuse Brian Holmes
action: 1
response: "Discovering the true identity of Brian Holmes shed new light on his possible motive. He had worked with the Colonel during the war. Was it possible that there might have been some disagreement between them?"

Brian is outraged. "This is ridiculous. John McClaren was like a brother to me. Yes, we made enemies during the war, but we would both have died for the other if necessary."

[1] Accuse Brian Holmes
action: You examine the bump
response: James seems to be carrying something in the right pocket of his pants.
action: You talk clock
response: "The ticking of the clock helped stimulate my neurons. The lounge was the ideal environment for doing my thinking."
action: You examine the clock
response: The clock is almost taller than you. An intricate system of brass and steel wheels, and gears is visible through the glass case in the front.
action: You talk the gears
response: "Building a case is a lot like designing a clock. All the gears must fit together."

"What a nice simile," says Shane. "I must use that in one of my books some day."
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A soft, expensive leather couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

Brian Holmes, the former secret agent, is standing by the clock.

Jonathan Allington stands next to Mr. Garfield, his employer. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Elias Mole is sitting next to Shane in the couch, his arms crossed in front of him.

Sylvester Starfield, the journalist, is sitting upright in the reclining chair taking notes on a notepad.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: You examine Jonathan
response: He is dressed in a tuxedo with a black bow tie. Unlike everyone else, his face betrays no curiosity, nor any other feelings.
action: You talk tuxedo
response: "I had noticed that Mr. Allington was wearing a brand new tuxedo. Almost as if he was trying to make an impression on someone..."

Jonathan interrupts you. "Of course I am trying to make a good impression. I just got this job two weeks ago, and you never get a second chance to make a first impression."

You raise your finger. "That's what I thought, Monsieur. Once I realized that Jonathan had only worked at the hotel for a short time I started thinking. Was it possible that he had taken the job to be close to the victim?"

There is no reaction from Jonathan this time. Too bad, you had hoped you could provoke him into revealing some more information.
action: You talk the bow tie
response: "Jonathans bow tie was perfectly tied. He clearly had a lot of experience with formal clothing."

"Of course," says Jonathan. "I have been working at many fine hotels. It becomes routine after a while."
action: You examine Doctor
response: Doctor Elias Mole is a young handsome Doctor. Recently graduated from medical school, he has just opened his own practice in London. He is wearing a light blue buttons-up shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Now that he is no longer leaning forward, you notice a paperback lying in his lap.
action: You look at paperback
response: How Blue Was the Sky by Shane Pearson.
action: You talk paperback
response: "I noticed that the Doctor was reading a book by Shane Pearson. Was he simply an ordinary fan or was there a connection between them?"

The Doctor nods enthusiastically. "I am a huge fan of Mrs. Pearson. How Blue was The Sky is one of the most moving books I have ever read."
action: You look at the shirt
response: A light blue casual shirt. Your sharp eyes notice the remnants of a small stain.
action: You look at the stain
response: It seems like someone has attempted to remove a stain from the shirt, with only partial success.
action: You talk stain
response: "A new breakthrough occurred when I noticed the stain on Doctor Moles shirt."

Everyone looks at the Doctor.

"I ... Um... Have no idea what you are talking about," he says.

"It is no use denying it Doctor," you continue. "An ordinary person would no doubt have missed it, but I see everything. You have clearly attempted to remove a stain from your shirt quite recently."

"You are right," he says. "I did, in fact, get a bloodstain on my shirt when examining the Colonel. This is my favorite shirt, so i cleaned it very thoroughly. I didn't realize the stain was still visible."

The Doctor starts wringing his hands, his eyes darting from side to side. "It's obvious that you know everything, Mr. Germain. Oh my god, what have I done. What was I thinking?"

He puts his face in his hands and begins sobbing uncontrollably.
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes.
action: You talk doctor
response: [1] Accuse Doctor Mole
[2] Provoke him
action: About yourself
response: You are as good looking as ever, but your confident demeanor hides a gnawing uncertainty. Hopefully, no one will notice. You are wearing your trademark black bowler hat, and your moustache is impeccably groomed.
action: 2
response: "The Doctor was not a hardened criminal. I knew he would most likely break down as soon as he realized I was on to him. My prediction has proved true."

The Doctor keeps sobbing.

"Allow me to explain how I deduced that the Doctor had to be involved with the murder..."

There is still no response from the Doctor. Dammit. If only you could make him snap out of it somehow.

[1] Accuse Doctor Mole
action: You nudge Doctor with the elbow
response: You don't always need to specify what you're doing something with.

(retrying as if you'd typed "nudge doctor .")
I didn't understand that sentence.
action: You take the paperback
response: The Doctor seems very fond of it.
action: You examine Doctor
response: He has broken down completely. You are not getting anything more out of him unless you can get him to snap out of it.
action: You talk paperback
response: "I now knew that Doctor Mole was a fan of Shane Pearson. This put the case in a whole new light."

Doctor Mole keeps sobbing in his hands. He doesn't seem to have heard what you said at all.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A soft, expensive leather couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

Brian Holmes, the former secret agent, is standing by the clock.

Jonathan Allington stands next to his employer, wearing his brand new tuxedo. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is sitting in the couch with her legs crossed.

Doctor Mole is sobbing hysterically with his face in his hands.

Sylvester Starfield, the journalist, is sitting upright in the reclining chair taking notes on a notepad.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: You talk doctor
response: [1] Accuse Doctor Mole
action: 1
response: "I knew the Doctor was not a hardened murderer. Once he realized I knew everything, he would no doubt break down and confess. As you can all plainly see, my predictions proved true. Detective, take him away."

As the Doctor is handcuffed, he looks at you with uncomprehending eyes. "Wait... No... That's not what I meant. I am not a murderer."

You send him a comforting smile. "It's okay, Doctor. It's all over now. A physical prison will no doubt be an improvement on the prison of guilt you had build for yourself."

There is no real evidence, so the Doctor is soon released. Everyone believes he is guilty, though. After all, who would doubt the word of the worlds greatest detective? His career is ruined, and a year later he is found hanging from the roof of his house.
action: You look at the Detective
response: Detective Goodfellow is a tall, broad man well equipped for the job of apprehending criminals. If only he knew how to find them as well, he might be a pretty good detective. You haven't worked with him before, but he seems like a decent bloke.
action: You talk brian
response: [1] Accuse Brian Holmes
action: You talk legs
response: "I noticed Shane Pearson's long beautiful legs."

"Because you are a dirty old man?" says Shane with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh... No, because of the case. I am getting to that."
action: You talk table
response: "I couldn't help but notice that no one seemed to be using the couch table."

This provokes no response from your audience. Perhaps you should try talking about some more personal objects.
action: You examine Sylvester
response: The old German Count has been replaced by a young man in his thirties. The bored look is gone from his face; he now seems keenly interested in the proceedings. His hair is still white, but it has probably been dyed.
action: You talk the hair
response: (Heinrichs hair)
"Mr. Starfields hair color was, of course, as fake as his beard."

"Yeah," says Sylvester. "I dyed it to match the beard. I am afraid I can't just pull it off. You are gonna have to deal with it until the color washes out."
action: Slap doctor
response: You slap him hard across the face. "Snap out of it, Doctor. We need you."

The Doctor blinks, as if he had just woken up from a bad dream. "Right... I am sorry. It's obvious that you have found me out, Monsieur Germain," he sighs. "I covered for Mrs. Pearson because I couldn't bear the thought that her talent would waste away in jail."

"I know," you say. "You'll better tell the whole story, Doctor. For your own sake."

He nods. "At midnight I was awoken by a noise in the hallway. When I peered out I saw Mrs. Pearson running down the hallway as if the devil himself was chasing her. I went downstairs to see what she might have been running from, and a terrible sight awaited me. The Colonel was lying on the floor with a bloody knife planted in his chest. Perhaps my mind was still clouded from tiredness, but I decided to cover for her. I wiped all the fingerprints off the knife, and when I was later made to examine the body I lied and said that he had been sedated with opium. I figured that would throw the police off the tracks."

You nod. "I had quickly deduced that the opium story made no sense. Why would anyone sedate someone only to stab him right afterwards? Once I realised this, I knew that the Doctor had lied."

"I suppose you have already figured out the rest," says the Doctor. "The drug in the Colonel's body was not opium. It was cyanide. The poison would have killed him anyway, even without the knife."

"Indeed, and that realisation changed everything. If the Colonel had been poisoned with a lethal poison, then the stabbing was clearly a red herring. But how? And why?"
action: You examine Doctor
response: Calm and composed. He is sitting upright in the couch paying keen attention to the events around him.
action: You look at Shane
response: The usually confident and extroverted writer is now looking like a deer caught in the headlights. She is currently resting her head in her hands, watching you with intense curiosity.
action: You talk shane
response: [1] Accuse Shane Pearson
[2] Alibi
action: 2
response: "The case was starting to unravel. The Doctor had seen Shane Pearson run from the scene of the crime around the time of the murder. However, Mr. Allington claimed that Mrs. Pearson was fast asleep at that time."

"Just stop, Monsieur Germain," says Shane Pearson. "You don't have to say any more. It was foolish of me to try to hide the truth in the first place. I should have known that no one can hide anything from you.

I did go down to the library at around midnight because I couldn't sleep. All of sudden the Colonel came running towards me from behind one of the shelves. I grapped a knife from one of the tables and held it in front of me, telling him to keep away. He just kept coming until he impaled himself on the knife and fell to the ground. It was horrible. I panicked and ran back to my bedroom. Some time later, I was awoken by Jonathan who told me I had been having a nightmare. Luckily, time of death was for some reason estimated to the time Jonathan woke me up so I had an alibi. I know I should have come clean sooner, but I just wasn't thinking straight."

[1] Accuse Shane Pearson
action: You talk shane
response: [1] Accuse Shane Pearson
action: Look around
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A soft, expensive leather couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

Brian Holmes, the former secret agent, is standing by the clock.

Jonathan Allington stands next to his employer, wearing his brand new tuxedo. His face reveals no emotions.

Shane Pearson is looking nervous.

Doctor Mole has recovered from his temporary breakdown and is sitting upright in the couch.

Sylvester Starfield, the journalist, is sitting upright in the reclining chair taking notes on a notepad.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, eagerly waiting to assist you in arresting the murderer.
action: You look at the table
response: The table is made of dark red mahogany. It looks expensive, but no one is using it at the moment.
action: You talk jonathan
response: [1] Motive
action: 1
response: "Monsieur Allington had started working at the hotel mere weeks before the murder. This seemed too unlikely to be a coincidence. Was it possible that he had taken the job to get closer to the victim?"

"Absurd," says Jonathan. "I took the job because I needed work and this place was highly recommended. That's all there is to it."

But there is a hint of fear in his voice.
action: You examine Jonathan
response: He is standing with his hands behind his back, dressed in a tuxedo with a black bow tie. Unlike everyone else, his face betrays no curiosity, nor any other feelings.
action: You talk shane
response: [1] Accuse Shane Pearson
action: You examine the hands
response: (Jonathans hands)
You notice several small wounds where the skin has been scraped off, as if he had been scrubbing his hands too hard.
action: You talk the hands
response: (Jonathans hands)
"Jonathan would often stand with his hands behind his back. I wondered if he was trying to hide something."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," says Jonathan.
action: You talk the hands
response: (Jonathans hands)
You can't think of anything to say.
action: You take the hands
response: (Jonathans hands)
Jonathan would probably not appreciate it.
action: You examine the wounds
response: He seems to have been scrubbing his hands way too hard. They look like they have been bleeding recently.
action: You talk wounds
response: "I noticed that Mr. Allington's hands were bruised, as if he had been scrubbing too hard or too long. What might he have been trying to hide?"

Jonathan seems uncomfortable. "Sir, as a waiter I need to keep my hands impeccably clean. I may have overdone it this time, but that is not a crime."
action: Just random guesses
response: You typed a rather long command and I didn't understand it. It's better to stick to simpler things like TAKE JAMES BEARD.
action: You examine the tuxedo
response: The tuxedo is spotless. It seems brand new.
action: You talk shane
response: [1] Accuse Shane Pearson
action: You think
response: You have thought about the case all day with no results. Your last hope is that you can make the murderer reveal him or herself during your closing monologue.
action: Xyzzy
response: You don't need magic to solve the case; only logic.
action: You look at Holmes
response: The man you used to know as James Garfield. He looks much the same as he did before, but there is now a shrewd look in his eyes.
action: You look at the hands
response: (Shanes hands)
You notice a light band around her ring finger.
action: Talk band
response: "It was then that I noticed something peculiar about Mrs. Pearson's hands. It looked like she had been wearing a ring, which she had subsequently taken off. People do not usually take off their engagement rings, so why would she do that?"

"Nothing escapes your attention does it, Monsieur Germain?" says Shane. "I suppose I might as well admit that I am engaged to Jonathan."

Jonathan nods. "We have been together for three months. We had hoped to keep our relationship private until we got married, but that idea doesn't seem realistic any more."

"It is obvious that you have figured it out, Mr. Germain," says Jonathan. "I tried to help my fiancee by giving her an alibi. It was foolish thing to do. At around midnight, I heard Shane walk down the stairs and followed her down to the library where I saw what happened. She was clearly blameless - the Colonel had attacked her - but I couldn't take the chance that the police might not believe her. I found the Colonel's watch in his pocket and set it to 02:30. Then I took the knife and stabbed him several times myself, making sure I hit the watch so it would stop. I felt dirty afterwards, so I scrubbed my hands until they started bleeding. Afterwards, I made sure Shane would have an alibi for 02:30 AM by waking her up by then and then telling James about it. I made sure to make a lot of noise so plenty of people would hear me."

"Oh, Darling," says Shane. "You shouldn't have done that."

"My love, I would do anything to prevent you from going to jail. Unfortunately, Mr. Germain saw right through me."
action: You examine Jonathan
response: His emotionless facade has dropped and he is now looking tenderly at Shane. His nose squats from his face like a beak.
action: You talk jonathan
response: [1] Accuse Jonathan
[2] Alibi
action: 2
response: "Figuring out that the time of death had been faked changed everything. It now seemed like no one had an alibi for the actual time of the murder. I knew who had stabbed the Colonel, but that had been a red herring all along. The true murderer was the one who had given him the cyanide. But it seemed like anyone could have done that."

[1] Accuse Jonathan
action: You talk nose
response: "Monsieur Allington's long nose drew my attention."

Sylvester gasps. "Of course. It looks just like the Colonel's. I can't believe I never noticed that before."

"Ok, I confess," says Jonathan. "I am the Colonel's illegitimate son from the war. When I finally managed to track down my father, I took a job here to get to know him before confronting him. But I swear I didn't kill him. I just wanted to meet him."
action: You talk jonathan
response: [1] Accuse Jonathan
[2] Motive
action: 2
response: "It was now clear that Jonathan had a motive for the murder. His father had abandoned him. Was it possible that his anger could have driven him to murder? Or perhaps he expected to inherit the Colonel's estate after revealing his true identity?"

"Never," says Jonathan. "I did not hate my father. I understand why he couldn't stay; I just wanted to meet him."

[1] Accuse Jonathan
action: 1
response: "After figuring out that Jonathan was the illegitimate son of the Colonel, everything became clear. His anger over being abandoned had driven him to murder. He had poisoned his father with cyanide, then intefered with the evidence to cover his tracks. Detective, arrest the murderer."

"This is outrageous," says Jonathan while being handcuffed. "Why would I want to kill my father? I just wanted to meet him."

You shrug. "I have better things to do than try to understand the motives of a homicidal maniac. Take him away."

Jonathan serves a short sentence for intefering with the investigation, but there is not enough evidence to convict him for the murder. Everyone believes he is guilty, though. After all, who would doubt the word of the worlds greatest detective? His career is ruined and a year later he is found hanging from the roof of his apartment.
action: Look around
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A soft, expensive leather couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

Brian Holmes, the former secret agent, is standing by the clock.

Jonathan Allington, the illegitimate son of Colonel McClaren, is standing by the wall, his long nose proudly protruding from his face.

Shane Pearson is relaxing in the couch.

Doctor Mole has recovered from his temporary breakdown and is sitting upright in the couch.

Sylvester Starfield is staring at Jonathan, while scribbling furiously on a notepad.

Detective Goodfellow is standing behind you, wearing the uniform of Scotland Yard. He seems to be getting impatient.
action: You talk uniform
response: "Detective Goodfellow looked great in his Scotland Yard uniform. "

"Thanks," says Goodfellow. "But why are you talking about my uniform? I think everyone is eager to hear who killed the Colonel."
action: You talk sylvester
response: [1] Accuse Sylvester Starfield
action: You talk jonathan
response: [1] Accuse Jonathan
action: You look at uniform
response: The uniform of Scotland Yard consists of a long dark blue trenchcoat and a peaked cap.
action: You talk the trenchcoat
response: "Detective Goodfellow was wearing the usual Scotland Yard trenchcoat. I wondered if it wasn't too hot to wear it indoors."

"A bit," says Goodfellow. "But one must stick to the regulations, you know.
action: You talk the cap
response: "I noticed the detectives cap."

The detective shrugs. "I should be wearing a bobby helmet, of course, but no one is perfect."
action: You look at the trenchcoat
response: The dark blue coat of Scotland Yard detectives have caused people to dub them "The boys in blue". The polished brass buttons gleam in the light of the lamp.
action: You examine the buttons
response: The buttons are spotless.
action: Talk buttons
response: "The buttons on detective Goodfellows uniform also aroused my curiosity."

"Well, we usually wear silver buttons, of course," says the Detective. "But I had to get here in a hurry."

You turn around to see Goodfellow holding a gun with a murderous look in his eyes. "That's quite enough, detective. I will not stand here idly while you toy with me. You have obviously figured out that none of the other people in this room commited the murder, so you must know it's me."

Everyone gasps.

"When you tried to call Scotland Yard I intercepted the call and came here instead. There is no "Detective Goodfellow". I am Franz Lieberheim and I have spent years tracking down the Colonel so I could have my revenge. When I found out he was living here, I kept the place under surveillance until I finally got my chance.

About half an hour before midnight, Colonel McClaren came down to get a drink. I approached him, claiming to be a recent arrival to the hotel. He did not recognize me and we struck up a conversation. I procured some wine, slipping the cyanide into the Colonel's glass while he wasn't watching. After he had drunk the wine, I made an excuse to leave and hid outside the window so I could watch him die. After a few minutes the American girl came down to the library as well. By that time, the Colonel must have started to feel the effects of the poison because he staggered towards her, desperately seeking assistance. The girl misinterpreted his approach as an attack; the rest you know."

"I know everything, Monsieur Lieberheim", you say while twirling your moustache. "It would be easiest for everyone if you gave up now and waited for the real police to arrive."

He sneers. "I don't think so. I would have gotten away with this if it wasn't for you, and Franz Lieberhaim always gets his revenge. Do you have any last words before I kill you, you meddling frog?"
action: Twirl moustache
response: "Time to die, detective." He squeezes the trigger; no amount of brilliant deductions will stop the bullet from entering your brain.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: The hotel lounge is small, but comfortable. A soft, expensive leather couch stands near one wall, with a mahogany couch table in front of it. Next to it is an old fashioned reclining chair. In the corner of the room, an old grandfather clock is steadily ticking away, lending a dignified air to the proceedings.

Brian Holmes has raised his hands in a martial arts position, ready to jump Franz at the slightest chance.

Jonathan Allington is attempting to block the path to Shane, apparently so that any stray bullets will hit him instead of her.

Shane Pearson is standing behind Jonathan, trying to get a good look at the action.

Doctor Mole is hiding behind the couch.

Sylvester Starfield looks overjoyed to be getting the scoop on such a great story. He is busily taking notes on his notepad.

Franz Lieberheim is holding you at gunpoint. His face is distorted in a grimace of pure, German, evil.

"Time to die, detective." He squeezes the trigger; no amount of brilliant deductions will stop the bullet from entering your brain.
action: You talk brian
response: [1] Accuse Brian Holmes
action: 1
response: "All the pieces finally came together. Brian Holmes had killed his former friend because he disagreed with his methods. Alas, how quickly friendship can turn to enmity. Detective Goodfellow, would you be so kind as to arrest the murderer."

As Brian is handcuffed he sneers at you. "This is ridiculous. You have no proof whatsoever."

You twirl your moustache. "It is over, Monsieur. Once the police start looking into your past, they will soon find the evidence they need to convict you."

They don't, and Brian Holmes is soon released. It makes no difference, though. Everyone still believes he is guilty. After all, who would doubt the word of the worlds greatest detective? The hotel shuts down, and a year later the former hotel owner is found hanging from the roof of his office.
action: You talk the gun
response: "Once I realized that Detective Goodfellow wasn't who he claimed to be, I could not, of course, allow him to be armed. It was a simple matter to ensure that he would be of no danger to anyone."

His eyes widen. "You damned frog. What have you done with my gun?" He furiously examines the gun, trying to determine how it might have been sabotaged.
action: You take the gun
response: While Franz is distracted, you deftly grab the gun from his hands. He lunges at you, but is quickly overpowered by the other inhabitants of the hotel.

"I am going to kill you for this, detective," he shouts while being restrained by his own handcuffs. "You are only putting off the inevitable."

"I suspect I will be dead long before you get out of jail, Monsieur," you reply. "Mr. Holmes," you say to the man formerly known as James Garfield, "Would you be so kind as to call the real Scotland Yard? I think they will be delighted to hear that we have managed to arrest the murderer without their help."
action: %
response: The mystery, for you, started two years ago.
"Come here, there's something I want to tell you," your old grandfather had said, "Quick, before your mother comes back in the room."
The smell of antiseptic and an unidentifiable odor that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the old age home made you uncomfortable enough. The thought of your grandfather having a secret he wanted to share only made that unplanned visit to the Shady Pastures Convalescent Home all the more nerve-wracking.
"If you have any mind for it, go back to Dalton. Your Grandmother left something she wanted you to have." Before you could ask him specifics, he turned away as your Mom reentered the room with a bottle of water. The topic would not come up again, which was fine by you. No one in your family had been to the Dalton property since your grandmother died over eight years ago, and as far as you knew, the place could have burned down by now.
When you thought back to your childhood, you could remember
spending the summers with your grandmother at the old house in Dalton, located on the Texas Gulf Coast. Grandma Eleanor Sorich always had smiles for you, and made you feel that she understood you better than you did yourself. When she eventually passed away, you were deeply saddened, as if you had lost one of your best friends.
Grandpa Sorich, on the other hand, was a different story. A bitter man who spent most of the time during your visits off by the Dalton Harbor with his drinking buddies. As far as you could tell, their marriage was more of convenience than love. At her funeral, he showed only the faintest hint of remorse. He spent the years after her death mostly silent in an old age home... until that visit.
It's been two years since your chat with Grandpa. In that time,
you have often reflected back on the conversation, curious as to what would make your grandfather act in such a mysterious fashion, and curious about what your grandmother could've possibly wanted you to have.
Finally, an unexpected road trip across the country has allowed you
to make a brief detour at the old family property. You find yourself back in the draining heat of Dalton, Texas, assessing the old Sorich property your family all but abandoned years ago. It hasn't burned down, but indeed stood patiently waiting for someone to return. The house, like your grandfather, has not aged gracefully, and looks as if it too is just waiting out the rest of it's years....
The Coast House

Type 'CREDITS' for behind the scenes tidbits.
New players may find 'INSTRUCTIONS' helpful.

summer vacations with your parents when you were young. A weathered fence which has long since given up it's white paint to hot Texas sun and salty coastal air surrounds the property. To the east lies Beach Street, as old as the town itself, separating the property from harbor and the bay. Across the road to the east you can make out the remains of the Dalton Fishing Pier and Dalton Harbor. The old house itself is to the west, facing the water like it has for the last 100 years. Though you are shin deep in weeds, you can make out a small path that winds around the house to the northwest and southwest. Crumbling cement stairs lead up to the porch of the house.
action: You look at the fence
response: From what you remember, this old fence has been re-built several times over the lifetime of the house. The last time it was restored was around 1980. The fence extends for a ways north and south.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have an old house key.
action: You examine the key
response: The key to the coast house, given to you by your grandfather ages ago.
action: You go west
response: The deck of this house seems to be of newer construction than the rest. As a younger child you remember sitting on the deck chairs and telling ghost stories long into the night while watching the boats sway in the harbor. A deteriorating plastic lawn chair remains as a reminder of those days. The sliding glass door to enter the house is to the west.
action: You sit
response: (the plastic lawn chair)
You sit down in the old chair. You're not sure it likes your weight having been left stranded in the elements for the last ten years, but it supports you. You look out across the yard towards the water. The view of the boats docked in the harbor moving rocking softly in the breeze is breathtaking.
Okay, you're now sitting on the plastic lawn chair.
action: You examine the boats
response: Off in the distance you can make out some shrimp boats tied-off to a dock. They gradually sway in the calm harbor. Beyond that is a small bay that opens into the Gulf of Mexico.
action: Rock
response: You rock back and forth on your heels. You consider putting 'yer thumb in 'yer britches and yelling `Yeehaw!'
action: You examine the door
response: The sliding glass door of your grandparents house has been shut for the last ten years since your grandmother passed away. Years of rain, humidity, dust, and wind-blown dirt have caked the outside of the door, making it difficult to see inside. The door is warm to the touch, much like everything else here. There is a small keylock close to the top.
action: You examine the lock
response: The lock is quite small and rusty, obviously having weathered the elements since anyone last put anything into it ten years ago.
action: You open the door
response: It's locked.
action: You unlock door
response: The key fits into the rusty slot with some difficulty but after a few grunts and some tasteful profanity, the lock gives way. The door is now unlocked.
action: Go west
response: You'll have to open the sliding glass door first.
action: You open the door
response: The door gives quite a fight, but you pull hard on the handle opening the door. As the glass door slides open, a burst of stale hot air trapped in the house for the last decade rushes past you. You're momentarily overwhelmed with scents of mold, mothballs and your grandmother's old perfume. A quick wind robs you of her memory.
action: You go west
response: a youth. A giant air conditioner is mounted into the north wall, next to a small utility closet. In the opposite corner there is a small television with a rocking chair facing it. The kitchen is to the west, the sliding glass door to the porch is east. The musty hot air in this room makes it difficult to breathe.
Oh man.. it is hot in here!
action: You turn on the air conditioner
response: Nothing happens. The AC is as silent as ever. It's mocking silence makes you feel even hotter.
I'm not joking.. it is seriously hot in this house. You are
suddenly dripping with sweat and feeling a bit woozy.
action: You go west
response: Small kitchen.. It has tacky furnishings from the 1950s to
mid-70's. A grease-stained refrigerator takes up what little walking space there actually is.
You see a calendar here.
You can't take it anymore. The heat in the house is horrible even
for Texas standards. You bolt out the door.
Front Porch
action: You go west
response: Oh man.. it is hot in here!
action: Go west
response: You see a calendar here.
I'm not joking.. it is seriously hot in this house. You are
suddenly dripping with sweat and feeling a bit woozy.
action: You open the fridge
response: Opening the refrigerator reveals a piece of withered meat.
You can't take it anymore. The heat in the house is horrible even
for Texas standards. You bolt out the door.
Front Porch
action: You close the door
response: You grab the handle and tug the door shut.
I'm not joking.. it is seriously hot in this house. You are
suddenly dripping with sweat and feeling a bit woozy.
action: You lock the door
response: (with the old house key)
Locked.
You can't take it anymore. The heat in the house is horrible even
for Texas standards. You force the door back open and dart outside. Front Porch
action: Describe the surroundings
response: a youth. A giant air conditioner is mounted into the north wall, next to a small utility closet. In the opposite corner there is a small television with a rocking chair facing it. The kitchen is to the west, the sliding glass door to the porch is east.
I'm not joking.. it is seriously hot in this house. You are
suddenly dripping with sweat and feeling a bit woozy.
action: You look at the air conditioner
response: Ah, they don't make them like they used to. This giant wall-mounted hulk of an air conditioner had the prime responsibility of cooling down the entire house. You remember your uncles always fretting that it was going to give out at any moment and then the house would be doomed. Standing now in the sweltering heat of the abandoned house you can appreciate why they were so worried!
You can't take it anymore. The heat in the house is horrible even
for Texas standards. You bolt out the door.
Front Porch
action: You switch on the air conditioner
response: It's already turned on!
I'm not joking.. it is seriously hot in this house. You are
suddenly dripping with sweat and feeling a bit woozy.
action: You go east
response: You feel a bit cooler.. relatively speaking for Texas standards... Front Porch
action: Go east
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
Unevenly paved, Beach Road separates your house from the small
harbor and pier to the east. A light coat of sand blows across the pavement in lazy swirls. Beach road doesn't see much traffic. The old family house lies to the west. The road continues up a small hill to the north and down towards the edge of town to the south. To the east a small service road heads towards an old fishing pier.
action: You go to the east
response: When you were a youngster, you remember this pier being a lot
longer, but that was two hurricanes ago. Mother Nature has taken the pier and had her way with it. The pier extends out into the water but the wood is broken and splintered farther out stopping well short of it's original length. A second, inaccessible section of the pier is visible even farther out; the area that connected the two having been washed away.
On this side of the pier, only one guardrail remains, the other
lost to the elements. Choppy water splashes against the few remaining supports beneath the pier sending plumes of water shooting up through the planks. The constant splashes has made the planks of the pier mossy and slick. A sign nearby advised that the pier is closed until storm damage can be repaired. What remains of the pier extends to the east. The service road leads away to the west.
action: You jump
response: Wheeee!
action: You go east
response: Ignoring the warnings, you boldly start down the pier...

The waves splash around you shooting up through the planks, the
foamy spray offering temporary relief from the Texas heat. You pause gripping the remaining guardrail with your hands and the planks with your toes. With this cat like grip, you slowly inch your way to the end of the pier.

You're at the end of the pier, well, what now acts as the end of
the pier. You can see the original end of the pier off like a small platform about 20 yards out to the east. From here, you can make out that there is some large object wedged within its supports.
Beneath you, the planks end suddenly where they were ripped from
the supports. The warm water of the bay is just eight feet below you. The waves roll by you as if they were on some perpetual northern pilgrimage.
The wind blows in from the south whipping your hair and putting a salty taste in your mouth.
action: Go downward
response: You put down all your stuff, take a deep breath, pinch your nose
shut and....
Splash!
The coastal waters envelop you. The taste of the salty water makes you grimace, not to mention the stinging effect it has on your eyes! Instinctively you start kicking towards the surface where you start gasp for air. Did I forget to mention earlier that you're not the strongest swimmer?
You dog paddle for a while, but it takes so much energy just to
stay afloat. Panic slowly rises as you begin remember reading stories about how drowning is considered one of the more gruesome ways to expire. You flail your arms ineffectually, your weight pulling you down... when you realize that water here is only about four feet deep. You quickly realize that it gets deeper towards the east and instead of pressing your luck you manage to work your way back to shore. It takes a while but you eventually manage to find a good spot to berth yourself.

A small driveway descends into the murky green water of the Texas Gulf. Above the land, scores of black bugs scurry out of your way disappearing into crevices you didn't even notice. In the shallow part of the water you can see the ghostly images of small fish and crabs darting just under the surface. Several tires are securely fastened against the ramp wall to prevent boats from bumping against the breakwater.
You see a pair of white fishing boots here.
action: You examine the boots
response: These old wading boots are so old and sunbleached they're almost brittle. If you distrusted your fashion sensibilities enough to put them on they would come up to your mid-thigh. If boots could talk, no doubt this pair would have some good fishing stories.
action: You get them
response: pair of white fishing boots: Taken.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: A small driveway descends into the murky green water of the Texas Gulf. Above the land, scores of black bugs scurry out of your way disappearing into crevices you didn't even notice. In the shallow part of the water you can see the ghostly images of small fish and crabs darting just under the surface. Several tires are securely fastened against the ramp wall to prevent boats from bumping against the breakwater.
action: You look at the tires
response: Partially submerged in the salty water, the tires are mostly covered in mult-colored barnacles, dead crabs, remains of jellyfish and a fungus or two. They are hung to protect boats from bumping the ramp wall.
action: Go west
response: Beach Road.. near the boatramp
In addition to the usual weeds and sand, this section of Beach Road has a few road-kill crabs squished into the pavement. A small boat ramp lies to the east. The road continues north and south.
action: Go north
response: Beach Road.. near the harbor
The Texas heat seems to bounce right off of Beach Road. Dry
withered weeds line the sides of the street. To the east you see the entrance to the harbor. To the north and south lie more sandy road.
action: Go east
response: You remember stories your grandfather would tell you about Dalton Harbor back in his day - the shrimp industry supported the town and boats could be seen leaving early in the morning with seagulls circling closely overhead as their nets were drawn up. Now, however, one would uses the term harbor loosely when viewing this small dock. Today's harbor is nothing more than a couple of rotted wooden poles being used to tie old shrimp boats against. The shrimp boats hardly look seaworthy with their hulls scraped and their nets faded and tattered. A small A-shaped sign offers tourist bargains.
A fisherman is sitting on an old bucket near a sink de-veining
shrimp.
The fisherman notices you as you walk up the harbor. `You must be
one of Eleanor Sorich's kin. You look just like her.'
action: Hello
response: The fisherman doesn't appear interested.
The fisherman continues to slice through the backs of shrimp
flinging the offal into the water where it's quickly snarfed by hardheads.
action: You sit
response: What do you want to sit on?
action: You look at the fisherman
response: The old leathery fisherman is wearing rubber boots and an old flannel shirt covered in old fish-gut stains. His hands are hard and calloused and his hair is bleached and thin. He has the haggard look of a man who has gotten up every morning at 4:30 A.M. for the last 45 years.
The fisherman pauses, wipes sweat from his lined forehead, sighs heavily, and resumes carving the shrimp.
action: You look at the shrimp
response: Pink and veiny, just the way you like them.
`Squall of '67 blew down the whole town,' mumbles the fisherman.
action: You ask the fisherman about the shrimp
response: `Lifeblood of the town... and tasty too!'The fisherman glances
your way, `Nice boots,' he comments with a trace of sarcasm.
action: You ask the fisherman about the boots
response: `A good pair of waders is a fisherman's best friend. Most of the local boys have a pair.'
`Damn, it's hot!'
action: You ask the fisherman about the weather
response: The old fence isn't important.
`The sea buries her secrets,' mumbles the fisherman.
action: You ask the fisherman about the sea
response: `Schnoif! Can't y'all see I'm busy here?'
The fisherman mumbles something about a north wind blowing through.
action: You ask the fisherman about house
response: `Schnoif! Can't y'all see I'm busy here?'
The fisherman continues to slice through the backs of shrimp
flinging the offal into the water where it's quickly snarfed by hardheads.
action: You ask the fisherman about the key
response: `Schnoif! Can't y'all see I'm busy here?'
The fisherman pauses, wipes sweat from his lined forehead, sighs heavily, and resumes carving the shrimp.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: You remember stories your grandfather would tell you about Dalton Harbor back in his day - the shrimp industry supported the town and boats could be seen leaving early in the morning with seagulls circling closely overhead as their nets were drawn up. Now, however, one would uses the term harbor loosely when viewing this small dock. Today's harbor is nothing more than a couple of rotted wooden poles being used to tie old shrimp boats against. The shrimp boats hardly look seaworthy with their hulls scraped and their nets faded and tattered. A small A-shaped sign offers tourist bargains.
A fisherman is sitting on an old bucket near a sink de-veining
shrimp.
`Squall of '67 blew down the whole town,' mumbles the fisherman.
action: You ask fisherman about Harbor
response: `Schnoif! Can't y'all see I'm busy here?'The fisherman glances your way, `Nice boots,' he comments with a trace of sarcasm.
action: Go east
response: You can't go that way.
`Damn, it's hot!'
action: Go west
response: The fisherman eyes you as you leave and whispers, `I hope you find what you're looking for.'

Beach Road.. near the harbor
action: You go to the north
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
action: You go south
response: Beach Road.. near the harbor
action: You go south
response: Beach Road.. near the boatramp
action: Go south
response: Beach Road.. out yonder
This is the south side of town, where Beach Road enters Dalton.
Not much around these parts but weeds and more weeds. The road continues to the north and south.
action: You examine the weeds
response: They're just weeds. Maybe someday they'll be tumbleweeds.
action: Go south
response: Beach Road.. south side of town
You certainly seem to be on the road less traveled now. You can
see small town of Dalton off in the distance to the north. A heat mirage bubbles up from the road to the south. An equally small and lonely road trails off towards the old cemetery to the west.
action: You go to the west
response: The humidity and the gray sky make the already ominous pair of old rusty gates appear even creepier. The town's founding fathers, what's left of them anyhow, as well as quite a few of your own ancestor's lie beyond the gates to the west. There is a historical marker here. The cemetery lies beyond the gates to the west, the road back to the town is east.
action: You look at the marker
response: The historical marker stands firmly planted into the ground with etched out lettering holding up surprisingly rust-free.
action: You read the marker
response: `The Dalton cemetery has provided a comforting resting place for the towns citizens for over a century. The oldest marked grave is that of Helen McHenry (d.1819), the only child of Port Dietrich resident Lionel McHenry. Dalton co-founder Col. Clyde Dalton also rests here. Col. Clyde Dalton is credited for, amongst other things, the Dalton Mansion, the Dalton Library, and the Dalton Firehouse. He was entered into the cemetery in 1949.
A large number of burials occurred in 1918 from a wide-spread Influenza Epidemic. The Dalton Cemetery contains graves of the veterans of the Texas Revolution, Civil War, World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam and the Gulf War. The Dalton Estates Association maintains the cemetery.'
action: You go west
response: You'll have to open the old rusty gates first.
action: You open the gates
response: Opened.
action: Go west
response: The Dalton Cemetery is one of the oldest fixtures of the town. To
the right of the path, you can see the cement mausoleum of the Dalton brothers. From the looks of it, it has not been cleared of its weeds in some time. You look around at some of the other stones, some buried by the grass, some with dying flowers, and a few with small American Flags hanging limply in the heat, providing just enough shade for a few noisy crickets. A path leads deeper into the cemetery towards the west. An old rusty gate is to the east.
action: You examine the mausoleum
response: For as wealthy as the Dalton's were, their tomb is not overly spectacular. Based on it's overgrown appearance, you guess that the Daltons don't get many visitors. If it weren't for the names and dates carved into it's doors, it could pass for a large cement toolshed.
action: Go west
response: It would seem the deeper you travel into the cemetery, the less maintained the graves become. Your eyes are drawn to a particular set of graves before you. Two headstones stand before two graves - one of which covered by a large stone grave cover. On the left lies your grandmother, and on the right the place where your grandfather will eventually be buried. Your grandmother's grave cover, mostly concealed beneath sand and weeds, seems to be suffering in the humid climate.
action: You examine cover
response: Some accident has caused the grave cover to break down the center! A crevice runs about 7 inches across and nearly a foot long down the cover breaching the sanctuary of your ancestor's earthly remains. The entire slab seems to be slowly collapsing into the grave. You suspect it's just a matter of time before the entire slab collapses down upon your grandmother!
action: You examine the headstone
response: Which headstone do you mean, Grandpa's headstone, or Grandma's headstone?
action: You examine the grandma's headstone
response: Grandma's headstone.. chipped with age...
action: You examine grandpa's headstone
response: Your grandfather's headstone was bought at the same time that your grandmother passed away. As your grandfather is still alive, it waits patiently for the inevitable.
action: Go east
response: Beach Road.. south side of town
action: Go south
response: You take a few steps towards the south before figuring it's just way too hot to continue.
action: You go north
response: Beach Road.. out yonder
action: Go north
response: Beach Road.. near the boatramp
action: Go north
response: Beach Road.. north side of town
The northern entrance to the town, from this vantage point you have
a nice view of bleak scenery. Down the hill you can make out the modest houses that make up Dalton, the old harbor, fishing pier, and the Gulf of Mexico stretching out beneath gray clouds to the east.
The road travels off some distance to the north, with not a whole lot between where you stand and Houston some 300 miles away. To the west lies a small driveway leading towards the largest house in Dalton.
action: You go north
response: Houston is a pretty far walk. Probably better to stay in town.
action: You go to the west
response: While not necessarily a mansion by modern standards, the structure
was one of the first houses in the area to have such modern conveniences as indoor plumbing. The two-story house is freshly painted - a stark contrast to the rest of the dwellings in the area. The front door has a brass placard and there is a small stone memorial nearby. The path back to the road is off to the east.
action: You examine memorial
response: The simple stone memorial has an old picture of Col. Clyde Dalton along with a colorful biography.
action: You read the memorial
response: `The house on this property was built by town co-founder Col. Clyde Beauregard Dalton in 1933. Clyde Dalton was born in 1898, the second of two children from Beauregard and Esther Lynn Dalton, wealthy cattle ranchers from Lubbock, Texas. Clyde and his brother, Claude, came to what was then known as Port Dietrich in 1922. From an inheritance left by their parents, Claude opened a meat-packing plant while Clyde began investing money to local businesses. The meat-packing plant and the businesses funded by Clyde helped the growth of Port Dietrich. In 1925, the increasing port population and growth of the economy, despite nationwide depression, made Port Dietrich eligible for "town" status. With considerable influence from the Dalton brothers, Port Dietrich was renamed "Dalton." Claude left the Dalton estate in 1930. Clyde Dalton, an influential Board member and businessman himself, remained. Clyde Dalton passed in 1949 and is buried in Dalton Cemetery.'
action: You read the placard
response: `Mansion closed for restoration. Please come visit us in the Spring.'
action: You go west
response: You'll have to open the mansion door first.
action: You go east
response: Beach Road.. north side of town
action: Go south
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
action: Look around
response: summer vacations with your parents when you were young. A weathered fence which has long since given up it's white paint to hot Texas sun and salty coastal air surrounds the property. To the east lies Beach Street, as old as the town itself, separating the property from harbor and the bay. Across the road to the east you can make out the remains of the Dalton Fishing Pier and Dalton Harbor. The old house itself is to the west, facing the water like it has for the last 100 years. Though you are shin deep in weeds, you can make out a small path that winds around the house to the northwest and southwest. Crumbling cement stairs lead up to the porch of the house.
action: You go northwest
response: You stand shin deep in weeds and ankle deep in mud. A small trail towards the old boat shed goes off to the north, and the small path that circles the house continues to the southeast and southwest.
action: You go to the north
response: the boatshed. The air swarms around you as the mosquitoes grow thicker with each step through the tall grass. To the south you can see the path back to the old house. Between you and the boat shed visible to the west lies a great puddle which seems to be the mosquito breeding grounds.
action: Go west
response: The mosquitoes feverishly attempt to use your legs for their blood feast, but the old rubber boots protect you. Waving your hand in front of you to keep them from roosting on your face, you continue across the path.

You're standing outside the boatshed. The overgrown weeds and sand build up around the large corrugated sliding door indicate that the door hasn't been opened in some time. A nasty looking puddle breeding mosquitoes lies in the middle of the path to the east.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn).
action: You look at the door
response: The door is large enough to accommodate the passage of a small boat, which is indeed what used to be stored in the boatshed. There is a small keyhole in the boatshed door.
action: You go to the east
response: The mosquitoes feverishly attempt to use your legs for their blood feast, but the old rubber boots protect you. Waving your hand in front of you to keep them from roosting on your face, you continue across the path.
action: You go to the southwest
response: porch of the old house to the east. The screen door to the old back porch sways noisily on rusted hinges. The small path that circles the house towards the northeast and southeast.
action: You go to the east
response: You are in the back porch of the house. It stinks like dead
animal, though you cannot see any nearby. A small metal box about the size of a shoebox is affixed to the wall of the house.
action: You look at the box
response: On the cover of the box is imprinted `TX Gulf Coast Power'. It's currently closed.
action: You open the box
response: Opened. There is an important-looking red power panel inside the utility box.
action: You examine the panel
response: The power panel is currently turned off.
action: You switch the panel on
response: You turn on the panel. A couple of quick sparks and a pop startle you, but then you hear a faint reassuring hum.
Somewhere off in the distance, you hear hear tired machinery reluctantly coming to life.
Okay, it's now turned on.
action: You look under the porch
response: It's too far away.
action: You go southeast
response: Still shin deep in weeds. The small path that circles the house
leads off to the northeast and northwest.
action: Look around
response: a youth. A giant air conditioner is mounted into the north wall, next to a small utility closet. In the opposite corner there is a small television with a rocking chair facing it. The kitchen is to the west, the sliding glass door to the porch is east.
action: You close the door
response: You grab the handle and tug the door shut.
action: You examine the chair
response: An old rocking chair with a small foamy cushion for marginal comfort.
action: You sit
response: (the rocking chair)
Okay, you're now sitting on the rocking chair.
action: You look at the television
response: The evenings from your childhood summers that didn't take place sitting on the porch took place watching this television. As the nearest broadcasting station was 60 miles away station the images were usually just scratchy ghosts. The TV has long gone silent and can now basically be considered merely a bulky paperweight with fake wooden paneling.
action: You look
response: Den, in the rocking chair
Standing in this room conjures shadows of your summer vacations as
a youth. A giant air conditioner is mounted into the north wall, next to a small utility closet. In the opposite corner there is a small television with a rocking chair facing it. The kitchen is to the west, the sliding glass door to the porch is east.
action: You turn on television
response: You try to turn on the television but it has long since burned out. You make a mental note to yourself to get this fixed if you're going to spend any true quality time here or else suffer from boredom.
action: You examine the closet
response: The utility closet is closed.
action: You open the closet
response: Opening the utility closet reveals a bag and a keyrack.
action: You examine the bag
response: An old Piggly Wiggly grocey bag.
action: You look in the bag
response: In the bag you see a small key.
action: You take the small key
response: Taken.
action: You examine the keyrack
response: A small keyrack with small hooks for hanging small keys. On the keyrack is a picture of man fishing and reads, `Old fisherman never die, they just smell that way.'
action: Inventory
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a small key, a bag, and a keyrack.
action: You look at the closet
response: The utility closet is open. There's nothing in the utility closet.
action: You go to the west
response: You see a calendar here. The refrigerator seems to contain a piece
of withered meat.
action: You examine the meat
response: This dark hunk of meat is a couple inches long, thin, and really tough. You're not sure if it's bacon, jerky, or part of a belt.
action: You examine refrigerator
response: Small white refrigerator. Probably hasn't been turned on since Reagan was president.
The refrigerator is currently open.
action: You close the refrigerator
response: Closed.
action: Examine calendar
response: An old calendar dated back from 1987. It looks like there's something scribbled on the page hanging open.
action: You read the calendar
response: `Don't forget McHugh's hat.'
action: You look around
response: Small kitchen.. It has tacky furnishings from the 1950s to
mid-70's. A grease-stained refrigerator takes up what little walking space there actually is.
action: You go west
response: You are in a cramped hallway. There are several framed photos on
the wall some of whom you recognize as family members with the others being too old for you to remember. The kitchen is to the east with other rooms lying to the north and south. The door to the back porch is to the west.
You see the first photograph, the second photograph, the third photograph, and the fourth photograph here.
action: You examine first
response: The first photograph is of your grandfather and seems to have been taken prior to him going off to World War II. Your Grandfather is standing tall in his new Army uniform, you guess he's no more than seventeen years old. His face is beaming with youthful pride and excitement but with an underlying nervousness. Behind him is the old house that once stood on this property.
action: You examine second
response: Another photograph of your young Grandfather in his army uniform, this time with your Grandmother at his side. She has short hair in this photo with no signs of aging. You briefly pause to appreciate the odd sensation of looking at pictures of persons long deceased who look younger and healthier than yourself.
action: You examine third
response: Your Grandmother, with longer hair, with her arms around several other girls at the beach. One of them you think is your aunt based on the strong family resemblance, but you can't be sure. The photographer's shadow has snuck into the bottom of the picture; a man wearing a cowboy hat.
action: You look at fourth
response: Your Grandfather, older now.. obviously taken after the War, is standing next to your Grandmother holding their first child - your mother Gwen Sorich. Your Grandfather has a beard in this photo and early streaks of gray. His eyes are not as exuberant as in the first photo, he looks guarded and weary. Your Grandmother is looking away while your Grandfather looks straight at the camera. Your Mom looks as goofy as ever.
action: You look around
response: You are in a cramped hallway. The kitchen is to the east with
other rooms lying to the north and south. The door to the back porch is to the west.
You see the first photograph, the second photograph, the third photograph, and the fourth photograph here.
action: Inventory
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a small key, a bag, a keyrack, a piece of withered meat, and a calendar.
action: You go north
response: This tiny room contains little more than a commode and a sink, the less glamorous side of the house. The bathtub had been removed years ago leaving only a small, unfinished space.
action: You examine the sink
response: The bowl of the sink long ago gave up it's white brilliance to rusty calcium deposits.
action: You examine the commode
response: Why do people feel compelled to look into toilets? What were you really hoping to find? Let's just say that after ten years of non-use, the toilet has dark calcium stains from the stagnant coastal water collected at the bottom of the bowl.
action: You go to the south
response: You see the first photograph, the second photograph, the third photograph, and the fourth photograph here.
action: Go south
response: You are in your grandparents old room. There is an antique bed
along the south wall dressed with cheap sheets and pillows. A sun-stained small carpet covers the floor in the center. Along the east wall there is a wooden dresser and a matching nightstand.
Sitting on the nightstand is a photo of Grandma.
action: You examine photo
response: This was the last picture taken of your grandmother. She is sitting alone on the cement stairs at the front of the house looking quite frail. Her tired smile and weary look makes you think she must have known she didn't have much time left. You notice she's wearing an ornate silver locket that you had never noticed her wearing during your visits together.
action: You examine the carpet
response: The rug is multi-colored with circular patterns that would look tacky anywhere but a coast house owned by your grandparents.
action: You look at the bed
response: This ornate bed seems to date back from early in the 20th century. It smells faintly of mothballs and has generations of drool stains on it's sheets. (At least you hope that's drool...)
action: You open the dresser
response: Opening the wooden dresser reveals Sammy Seal Water Wings and a cotton jacket.
action: You take the Wings
response: Woohoo! Your score has increased.

Taken.
action: You look at Wings
response: These vinyl inflatable floats were probably bought by your grandparents years ago to help teach your young niece to swim. They have repeating prints of Sammy The Seal doing dives and tricks on them. There is a small warning tag on them.
There is a small tear in one of the Water Wings.
The water wings are currently deflated.
action: You read the tag
response: `For ages 4-8. Provides enough flotation for a child up to 75 lbs.'
action: You examine the jacket
response: A green cotton jacket. It looks like the one your grandfather is wearing in some of the older photos.
action: You wear the jacket
response: You are looking sharp now!
(First taking the cotton jacket)
Taken. Okay, you're now wearing the cotton jacket.
action: You examine the nightstand
response: A handsome piece to match the dresser.
action: You search the nightstand
response: On the nightstand you see a photo of Grandma.
action: You check your inventory
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a small key, a bag, a keyrack, a piece of withered meat, a calendar, Sammy Seal Water Wings, and a cotton jacket (being worn).
action: You go north
response: You see the first photograph, the second photograph, the third photograph, and the fourth photograph here.
action: Go west
response: You'll have to open the back door first.
action: You unlock the back door
response: Unlocked.
action: You look around
response: You're standing outside the boatshed. The overgrown weeds and sand build up around the large corrugated sliding door indicate that the door hasn't been opened in some time. A nasty looking puddle breeding mosquitoes lies in the middle of the path to the east.
action: Unlock boatshed
response: (with the small key)
Unlocked.
action: You open door
response: Opened.
action: You go west
response: Even in broad daylight, the interior of the boatshed gives you the spook. The walls and rafters are covered in cobwebs and you catch spiders and other crawling nastiness lurking in the dark spaces that heretofore had been undisturbed for years. Your grandfather's boat is not here - your Uncle Alexander had sold it shortly after he was put into the rest home.
You see a sturdy tacklebox here.
action: You open the tacklebox
response: Opening the sturdy tacklebox reveals a fish hook, a bicycle tire repair kit, and a Daiwa baseball cap.
action: You fix Wings
response: What do you want to repair them with?
action: You fix Wings with the kit
response: With a steady hand and skills honed years ago in the Scouts, you manage to repair the small hole in Sammy with the bicycle repair kit. No doubt, Sammy is sea-worthy again.
action: You look at the cap
response: An old baseball cap with the Daiwa logo embossed on the front. It seems well worn - and by someone with a sweaty head at that! Someone has scrawled their name inside the hat.
action: You read the cap
response: `McHugh'
action: You wear the hat
response: (First taking the Daiwa baseball cap)
You've already got your hands full.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a small key, a bag, a keyrack, a piece of withered meat, a calendar, Sammy Seal Water Wings, a cotton jacket (being worn), and a sturdy tacklebox. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook, a bicycle tire repair kit, and a Daiwa baseball cap.
action: You drop the keyrack
response: Dropped.
action: You put the key in the bag
response: Done.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a bag, a calendar, Sammy Seal Water Wings, a cotton jacket (being worn), and a sturdy tacklebox. The bag seems to contain a small key and a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook, a bicycle tire repair kit, and a Daiwa baseball cap.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: Even in broad daylight, the interior of the boatshed gives you the spook. The walls and rafters are covered in cobwebs and you catch spiders and other crawling nastiness lurking in the dark spaces that heretofore had been undisturbed for years. Your grandfather's boat is not here - your Uncle Alexander had sold it shortly after he was put into the rest home.
You see a keyrack here.
action: You wear the cap
response: (First taking the Daiwa baseball cap)
Taken. Okay, you're now wearing the Daiwa baseball cap.
action: Go east
response: A fisherman is sitting on an old bucket near a sink de-veining
shrimp.
`The sea buries her secrets,' mumbles the fisherman.
action: Inventory
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a bag, a calendar, Sammy Seal Water Wings, a cotton jacket (being worn), a sturdy tacklebox, a Daiwa baseball cap (being worn), and a keyrack. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
The fisherman mumbles something about a north wind blowing through.
action: You show the cap to the fisherman
response: The fisherman looks at the hat long and hard for a moment before speaking, this time quite clearly. `I never really expected to see that hat again. I loaned it to your grandfather the last time we went out fishing together. Your grandfather and I were once very, very close friends. The old coot in his youth was one of the nicest, friendliest guys you could know. Everything changed after we got back from the war. He pulled away from us all for years. Only in the last few years of your grandmother's life did he seem to open up again to us. This hat goes back to the days of our friendship, if it's all the same to you, I'd like it when you're done - if it's no trouble.'
The fisherman continues to slice through the backs of shrimp
flinging the offal into the water where it's quickly snarfed by hardheads.
action: You ask the fisherman about Grandfather
response: `George Sorich and I grew up practically brothers. Both of us had
to work on the harbor emptying nets, neither of our parents could afford to hire much help. South was much different then. He was a good mam, but got too stubborn for his own good. Dwelled too much on the past - wasn't was good for him.'
The fisherman pauses, wipes sweat from his lined forehead, sighs heavily, and resumes carving the shrimp.
action: You ask the fisherman about Grandmother
response: `Lovely woman she was, and made the best fried shrimp y'ever had as well! Probably the sweetest woman I ever met. Having her husband away during the war was hard on her, Hell, on everyone!'
`Squall of '67 blew down the whole town,' mumbles the fisherman.
action: You give the cap to the fisherman
response: McHugh looks sentimental as he takes the hat. He admires it closely and then says, `You know, I believe I have something for you too. Are you going to be in town for awhile? Yes? Well, then, I'll be back in a hour or so with something you may find interesting. I'll know where to find you.' With that thought, the fisherman grabs his belongings and walks away.
action: Inventory
response: You have a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a bag, a calendar, Sammy Seal Water Wings, a cotton jacket (being worn), a sturdy tacklebox, and a keyrack. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: You go west
response: Beach Road.. near the harbor
action: You go to the north
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
action: You drop all
response: pair of white fishing boots: (Taking off the pair of white fishing boots first)
Dropped.
bag: Dropped.
calendar: Dropped.
Sammy Seal Water Wings: Dropped.
cotton jacket: (Taking off the cotton jacket first)
Dropped.
sturdy tacklebox: Dropped.
keyrack: Dropped.
action: Inflate Wings
response: You take a deep breath and blow hard into the air nipples on the Sammy Seal Water Wings.
action: You examine Wings
response: These vinyl inflatable floats were probably bought by your grandparents years ago to help teach your young niece to swim. They have repeating prints of Sammy The Seal doing dives and tricks on them. There is a small warning tag on them.
There is a small rubber patch on one of the wings.
The water wings are currently inflated.
action: You wear Wings
response: (First taking the Sammy Seal Water Wings)
Taken. Okay, you're now wearing the Sammy Seal Water Wings.
action: Go east
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
action: Go east
response: Ignoring the warnings, you boldly start down the pier...

The waves splash around you shooting up through the planks, the
foamy spray offering temporary relief from the Texas heat. You pause gripping the remaining guardrail with your hands and the planks with your toes. With this cat like grip, you slowly inch your way to the end of the pier.

You see an old house key here.
action: You take the key
response: Taken.
action: You go west
response: Clinging to the rail, you humbly inch your way back towards land. Entrance to Fishing Pier
action: Go west
response: You see a pair of white fishing boots, a bag, a calendar, a cotton jacket, a sturdy tacklebox, and a keyrack here. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: You drop the key
response: Dropped.
action: You go east
response: Ignoring the warnings, you boldly start down the pier...

The waves splash around you shooting up through the planks, the
foamy spray offering temporary relief from the Texas heat. You pause gripping the remaining guardrail with your hands and the planks with your toes. With this cat like grip, you slowly inch your way to the end of the pier.
action: Down
response: You put down all your stuff, take a deep breath, pinch your nose
shut and....
Splash!
The coastal waters envelop you. The taste of the salty water makes you grimace, not to mention the stinging effect it has on your eyes! Instinctively you start kicking towards the surface where you start gasp for air. Did I forget to mention earlier that you're not the strongest swimmer?
You felt ridiculous putting them on, but now the water wings are paying off. Their buoyancy gives you the extra boost you need to dog-paddle towards the lost section of pier.

You are now bobbing in the Gulf's rolling long swells; your patched Sammy the Seal wings helping you to stay afloat. Above you is the remains of the original end of the pier supported by old wooden poles covered with barnacles and starfish. Wedged into the supports is the wreckage of a small fishing boat. It must have blown into the pier during the last storm. The shoreline is visible to the west.
action: You examine the boat
response: Only a small portion of the bow remains above water. While you're not a boating expert, you would guess that the boat is about 19-feet long, give or take a few inches now missing from it's hull. Most of the contents of the boat seem to have been salvaged or sank long ago, but the water is so murky it really is hard to tell.
action: Down
response: I don't know... sharks could be beneath the surface, and you can't hold your breath very long.
action: You enter the boat
response: Didn't you see JAWS? Bad idea!
action: Go east
response: Nothing but miles of water in that direction.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: You are now bobbing in the Gulf's rolling long swells; your patched Sammy the Seal wings helping you to stay afloat. Above you is the remains of the original end of the pier supported by old wooden poles covered with barnacles and starfish. Wedged into the supports is the wreckage of a small fishing boat. It must have blown into the pier during the last storm. The shoreline is visible to the west.
action: Up
response: You give a half-hearted attempt quickly realizing you'd rip your hands to shreds on the barnacles if you tried to climb any of the supports.
action: You examine the poles
response: The supports extend up about 8-feet above you holding up the sad remains of the original end of the pier. They are made of some dark wood and are covered with barnacles. As the middle of the pier has washed away, their main function now is to give the local heron a place to roost.
action: Go west
response: Bobbing like a wounded manatee, you gradually make your way towards shore.
Boat Ramp
action: You describe your surroundings
response: A small driveway descends into the murky green water of the Texas Gulf. Above the land, scores of black bugs scurry out of your way disappearing into crevices you didn't even notice. In the shallow part of the water you can see the ghostly images of small fish and crabs darting just under the surface. Several tires are securely fastened against the ramp wall to prevent boats from bumping against the breakwater.
action: Look around
response: You remember stories your grandfather would tell you about Dalton Harbor back in his day - the shrimp industry supported the town and boats could be seen leaving early in the morning with seagulls circling closely overhead as their nets were drawn up. Now, however, one would uses the term harbor loosely when viewing this small dock. Today's harbor is nothing more than a couple of rotted wooden poles being used to tie old shrimp boats against. The shrimp boats hardly look seaworthy with their hulls scraped and their nets faded and tattered. A small A-shaped sign offers tourist bargains.
action: You look at the sign
response: The sign seems to be hand-painted, and badly at that. Guessing by the amount of wear and seagull guano around it's edges, one could probably call it authentic... or junk.. or both.
action: You read the sign
response: Captain McHugh's Scenic Bay Tours! $40
action: Go west
response: You see a pair of white fishing boots, a bag, a calendar, a cotton jacket, a sturdy tacklebox, a keyrack, and an old house key here. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: You take all
response: pair of white fishing boots: Taken.
bag: Taken.
calendar: Taken.
cotton jacket: Taken.
sturdy tacklebox: Taken.
keyrack: Taken.
old house key: Taken.
action: Inventory
response: You have Sammy Seal Water Wings (being worn), a pair of white fishing boots, a bag, a calendar, a cotton jacket, a sturdy tacklebox, a keyrack, and an old house key. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: Examine kit
response: Despite it's age, the contents all seem to be intact. According to the label, the bicycle tire repair kit is a must have for anyone taking on the open road on two wheels.
action: You unlock door
response: (with the old house key)
It doesn't fit the lock.
action: Xyzzy
response: Can you say that here? I thought that was copyrighted or something...?
action: You drop all
response: Sammy Seal Water Wings: (Taking off the Sammy Seal Water Wings first) Dropped.
pair of white fishing boots: Dropped.
bag: Dropped.
calendar: Dropped.
cotton jacket: Dropped.
sturdy tacklebox: Dropped.
keyrack: Dropped.
old house key: Dropped.
action: You wear Wings
response: (First taking the Sammy Seal Water Wings)
Taken. Okay, you're now wearing the Sammy Seal Water Wings.
action: Go downwards
response: You put down all your stuff, take a deep breath, pinch your nose
shut and....
Splash!
The coastal waters envelop you. The taste of the salty water makes you grimace, not to mention the stinging effect it has on your eyes! Instinctively you start kicking towards the surface where you start gasp for air. Did I forget to mention earlier that you're not the strongest swimmer?
You felt ridiculous putting them on, but now the water wings are paying off. Their buoyancy gives you the extra boost you need to dog-paddle towards the lost section of pier.
action: Go east
response: Nothing but miles of water in that direction.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: You are now bobbing in the Gulf's rolling long swells; your patched Sammy the Seal wings helping you to stay afloat. Above you is the remains of the original end of the pier supported by old wooden poles covered with barnacles and starfish. Wedged into the supports is the wreckage of a small fishing boat. It must have blown into the pier during the last storm. The shoreline is visible to the west.
action: You examine the boat
response: Only a small portion of the bow remains above water. While you're not a boating expert, you would guess that the boat is about 19-feet long, give or take a few inches now missing from it's hull. Most of the contents of the boat seem to have been salvaged or sank long ago, but the water is so murky it really is hard to tell.
action: You look in the boat
response: Ay matey.. could there be booty?
You find a boat hook!
action: You take the hook
response: Woohoo! Your score has increased.

Taken.
action: Go west
response: Bobbing like a wounded manatee, you gradually make your way towards shore.
Boat Ramp
action: You go north
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
You see a pair of white fishing boots, a bag, a calendar, a cotton jacket, a sturdy tacklebox, a keyrack, and an old house key here. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: You look around
response: When you were a youngster, you remember this pier being a lot
longer, but that was two hurricanes ago. Mother Nature has taken the pier and had her way with it. The pier extends out into the water but the wood is broken and splintered farther out stopping well short of it's original length. A second, inaccessible section of the pier is visible even farther out; the area that connected the two having been washed away.
On this side of the pier, only one guardrail remains, the other
lost to the elements. Choppy water splashes against the few remaining supports beneath the pier sending plumes of water shooting up through the planks. The constant splashes has made the planks of the pier mossy and slick. A sign nearby advised that the pier is closed until storm damage can be repaired. What remains of the pier extends to the east. The service road leads away to the west.
action: You take all
response: pair of white fishing boots: Taken.
bag: Taken.
calendar: Taken.
cotton jacket: You've already got your hands full.
sturdy tacklebox: You've already got your hands full.
keyrack: You've already got your hands full.
old house key: You've already got your hands full.
action: Inventory
response: You have Sammy Seal Water Wings (being worn), a boat hook, a pair of white fishing boots, a bag, and a calendar. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat.
action: You drop Wings
response: (Taking off the Sammy Seal Water Wings first)
Dropped.
action: Inventory
response: You have a boat hook and a bag. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat.
action: You wear the boots
response: (First taking the pair of white fishing boots)
Taken. Okay, you're now wearing the pair of white fishing boots.
action: You look around
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
Unevenly paved, Beach Road separates your house from the small
harbor and pier to the east. A light coat of sand blows across the pavement in lazy swirls. Beach road doesn't see much traffic. The old family house lies to the west. The road continues up a small hill to the north and down towards the edge of town to the south. To the east a small service road heads towards an old fishing pier.
You see a sturdy tacklebox, a keyrack, an old house key, Sammy Seal Water Wings, and a calendar here. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: You take all
response: sturdy tacklebox: Taken.
keyrack: Taken.
old house key: Taken.
Sammy Seal Water Wings: You've already got your hands full.
calendar: Taken.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You have a boat hook, a bag, a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a cotton jacket (being worn), a sturdy tacklebox, a keyrack, an old house key, and a calendar. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: Look around
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
Unevenly paved, Beach Road separates your house from the small
harbor and pier to the east. A light coat of sand blows across the pavement in lazy swirls. Beach road doesn't see much traffic. The old family house lies to the west. The road continues up a small hill to the north and down towards the edge of town to the south. To the east a small service road heads towards an old fishing pier.
You see Sammy Seal Water Wings here.
action: You go north
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
You see Sammy Seal Water Wings here.
action: Look around
response: Beach Road.. in front of house
Unevenly paved, Beach Road separates your house from the small
harbor and pier to the east. A light coat of sand blows across the pavement in lazy swirls. Beach road doesn't see much traffic. The old family house lies to the west. The road continues up a small hill to the north and down towards the edge of town to the south. To the east a small service road heads towards an old fishing pier.
You see Sammy Seal Water Wings here.
action: You examine the door
response: The door to the mansion looks to be made out of oak. It's very nice. There's a plaque on it.
action: You examine house
response: The two-story house is freshly painted - a stark contrast to the rest of the dwellings in the area. The front door has a brass plaquard and there is a small stone memorial nearby.
action: You examine the chair
response: One of Walmart's finest, a single piece of molded plastic; perfect for giving someone a sore ass while they scope out the water.
action: Go west
response: You'll have to open the sliding glass door first.
action: You open the door
response: It's locked.
action: You unlock door
response: (with the old house key)
Unlocked.
action: You open it
response: The door slides open with some effort.
action: You look at the air
response: Ah, they don't make them like they used to. This giant wall-mounted hulk of an air conditioner had the prime responsibility of cooling down the entire house. You remember your uncles always fretting that it was going to give out at any moment and then the house would be doomed. Standing now in the sweltering heat of the abandoned house you can appreciate why they were so worried!
The behemoth air conditioner pumps out cool air in laborious grunts.
action: You look at the closet
response: The utility closet is open. There's nothing in the utility closet.
action: You look at the tv
response: The evenings from your childhood summers that didn't take place sitting on the porch took place watching this television. As the nearest broadcasting station was 60 miles away station the images were usually just scratchy ghosts. The TV has long gone silent and can now basically be considered merely a bulky paperweight with fake wooden paneling.
action: You examine the rocking
response: Which rocking do you mean, the rocking chair, or the chair cushion?
action: Both
response: rocking chair: An old rocking chair with a small foamy cushion for marginal comfort.
chair cushion: You poke the cushion... it might be comfortable enough to get you through one movie, but not a marathon.
action: You examine the fridge
response: Small white refrigerator. Probably hasn't been turned on since Reagan was president.
The refrigerator is currently closed.
action: You examine the screen
response: The back porch was actually a separate addition to the house a few years after the last construction. The screen door doesn't seem to be doing a good job of keeping out the mosquitoes.
action: You open door
response: It's already open.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: Even in broad daylight, the interior of the boatshed gives you the spook. The walls and rafters are covered in cobwebs and you catch spiders and other crawling nastiness lurking in the dark spaces that heretofore had been undisturbed for years. Your grandfather's boat is not here - your Uncle Alexander had sold it shortly after he was put into the rest home.
action: You read the mausoleum
response: ` Claude Dalton
b. 1900 d. 1947
Forever in our Hearts ---
Colonel Clyde Beauregard Dalton
b. 1898 d. 1949
Town Father and World War 1'
action: You examine gate
response: The gates are indeed old and rusty.
action: You examine the shiny object
response: It's hard to tell from here, but it looks like a small round silver locket. It seems to have a small clasp so that it can be opened.
action: You take the locket
response: You reach through crack in the grave cover but Grandma, and her locket, are about 4-feet beyond your reach.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You have a boat hook, a bag, a pair of white fishing boots (being worn), a cotton jacket (being worn), a sturdy tacklebox, a keyrack, an old house key, and a calendar. The bag seems to contain a piece of withered meat. The sturdy tacklebox seems to contain a fish hook and a bicycle tire repair kit. The keyrack seems to contain a small key.
action: You take the locket with hook
response: Which hook do you mean, the boat hook, or the fish hook?
action: Boat
response: Woohoo! Your score has increased.

Reaching through the cracked grave cover with the boat hook, you manage to snag the hook around the locket. With some subtle maneuvering and no small amount of awkward fumbling, you manage to wrangle the locket over the skull of your grandmother and pull it up through the crevice!

locket. Inside, you see two small black and white photos: on the left is a picture of your grandfather George Sorich and on the right Col. Clyde Dalton!

`So I guess now you know.'

The sudden voice startles you! With a jump you turn about to see
the old fisherman McHugh looking at you with an odd expression of shame and pity. `I figured you'd probably suspected something, otherwise why would you've come? When your grandfather was away on the war old Dalton was running the numbers on everyone in town. When poor Eleanor couldn't afford the house payments or food for her and her mother, old man Dalton started taking liberties. When George came home from the war, he found his young wife carrying another man's child.'

within the pendant. You take a closer look at the tiny portrait of Dalton. A knot starts forming in your stomach as you now realize you share a resemblance to the man - your real grandfather.

`Yeah, well, here's what I came to give you. It's a copy of
Dalton's will. You'll see, that if you're really Gwen's oldest child, it looks like you probably have claim the Dalton estate, what's left of it anyway. It was passed down to his heirs, but your grandmother was too proud to claim it. I know your grandma never wanted to touch the money while she was alive - she never wanted your mom to know who her real father was. I suppose your grandfather sent you out here?
He must've had his reasons...'

direction of the Mansion.

*** You have won.. if you can consider defiling your grandmother's eternal rest really winning ***

In a total of 451 turns, you have achieved a score of 50 points out of a possible 50.

You may restore a saved game, start over, undo the last move, or quit. Please enter RESTORE, RESTART, UNDO, or QUIT: >