Within a Wreath of Dewdrops
by Sam Kabo Ashwell (2005)


action: %
response: Darkness; below, percussion throbs softly. You shift from foot to foot, conscious of too much open space around you.

Ahead and on either side, the voice of the chorus rises; as they speak, the lights slowly go up.

CHORUS:
Now does the hour grow close; where feet lack time,
And Spaniards rage before the Cockrel's gate,
The condemned sinner, soul turned sick of vice,
Shall craft before your eyes most unclean magics,
Open him a gate to Hell's black womb,
Release demons, and bid them convey
Our heroes to fair France; there to signal
Embattl'd men to a final desperate measure.
The final act is begun; the play is in your hands.

or, A Poisoned Zenith
A play by Alphonse de l'Entaille
For 24 Hours of Inform '04
Copyright (c) 2004, 2005

For acknowledgments, hints, and miscellanea, type "about"

The author can be contacted at alphonse.de.l.entaille@gmail.com

Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.

[ To go backstage, type 'backstage' or simply 'bs' ]
action: About yourself
response: You are currently out of character.
action: You examine the eagle
response: The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.

CHORUS:
The hour draws close when France shall rise or fall;
The board writhes to last moves; alone, each piece is lost.
Each has emerged, as we've shown by our Art;
Our three are gathered: each must fill their part.

High above a forested peak, a proud double-headed eagle is carrying off its natural prey, the schnitzel. Such unspeakable grandeur, such natural beauty, such cack-handed brushwork.
action: Bs
response: A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.

[ To go back onstage, type 'onstage' or simply 'os' ]

You can see a cloth, a petticoat, a stick and a board here.
action: Examine flyer
response: A flyer is plastered across one wall:





*** WITHIN A WREATH OF DEWDROPS ***

* JOHN  ACTOR as MAURICE  *  EVA ZAHA as ELISE *

* and DUSTIN Q. CELEBRITY as THE WIZARD MCFAUD *



At the center of the advertisement is a dramatic painting of a rapier-waving hero and a heaving-bodiced heroine, with a city on fire behind them. It's all rather exciting, really.
action: You look at the board
response: A wooden board, roughly square and about two and a half feet to a side. A metal handle is affixed to the centre. It's been coated in dark varnish to make it look a bit less like balsawood.
action: You get all
response: cloth: Taken.
petticoat: Taken.
stick: Taken.
board: Taken.
action: You examine the cloth
response: It's a rectangle of cloth, so worn-out from being dyed, bleached and redyed that you are no longer able to make out what its colour is. Over the years it has seen service as a loin cloth, a pirate's sail, a shroud, the ghost of Hamlet's father, and as a poorly-rendered special effect of falling leaves.
action: You examine script
response: The chorus are an omniscient lot who remain out of sight but are always there to provide foreshadowing of things to come. Were it not for them, you would most certainly have forgotten to raise your tunic at the appropriate moment in The Stride of Hermes.
action: Os
response: Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.
action: Wear cloth
response: Costume changes onstage? This is experimental theatre, but there are limits. It would perhaps be better to do that sort of thing backstage, so as not to break the illusion.
action: Bs
response: A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.
action: Wear cloth
response: You swirl the cloth around your shoulders like a cloak, tilt your chin upwards at an arrogant angle, and take a few strutting steps. After a brief moment of concentration, you feel properly in character.
action: Leave
response: [ To go back onstage, type 'onstage' or simply 'os' ]
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a shield
a sword
a petticoat
a cloak (being worn)
action: About yourself
response: You are playing the part of Captain Maurice Orignaux, honourable dandy of the Paris City Guard. Equally capable of composing timeless sonnets on the spur of the moment or slitting a Tartar's nose in a tavern brawl, Maurice is generally considered to be Entaille's paradigmatic hero. Some critics have defined this paradigm as 'a two-dimensional pugilist in tight hose' but you have always considered Maurice a character of many contradictions and shades of subtlety, brought out most clearly in his banter with Carelio and Longuin in the famous oyster-eating scene.

You are playing the part of Captain Maurice Orignaux, honourable dandy of the Paris City Guard. Equally capable of composing timeless sonnets on the spur of the moment or slitting a Tartar's nose in a tavern brawl, Maurice is generally considered to be Entaille's paradigmatic hero. Some critics have defined this paradigm as 'a two-dimensional pugilist in tight hose' but you have always considered Maurice a character of many contradictions and shades of subtlety, brought out most clearly in his banter with Carelio and Longuin in the famous oyster-eating scene.
action: You examine chorus
response: The chorus are an omniscient lot who remain out of sight but are always there to provide foreshadowing of things to come. Were it not for them, you would most certainly have forgotten to raise your tunic at the appropriate moment in The Stride of Hermes.
action: You examine audience
response: There may well be an audience out there, but you can't see them for the glare of the lights. Best to just assume that they're there, and that somewhere in their midst is a theatre critic who is watching you with a discerning eye.
action: You listen to the chorus
response: The chorus is tied to the script, but repeats its lines again, for your benefit:

CHORUS:
The hour draws close when France shall rise or fall;
The board writhes to last moves; alone, each piece is lost.
Each has emerged, as we've shown by our Art;
Our three are gathered: each must fill their part.
action: Bs
response: A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.
action: You wear the petticoat
response: After a moment or two of hopping about, you work your way into the petticoat. Hunching your shoulders over, clawing your fingers and adopting a lecherous squint, you assume a new role.
action: About yourself
response: You are playing the part of Herr Dr. Lysander Herculaneum Prufrock Gramercy McFaud, German theological scholar and on first-names terms with the Prince of Darkness. Originally your scheme was to ensnare Elise, but the purity of her humble beauty laid a seed of doubt in your black heart that was brilliantly explored in a long and profound soliloquy at the close of Act IV. When Maurice appeared to rescue her, you could no longer stomach the vileness of your existence and, though doomed to Hell yourself, vowed to give aid to the heroes in an even longer and more profound soliloquy in the middle of Act V.
action: Sing
response: Your big song number, Oh, I Am So Atrocious was three scenes ago.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a board
a staff
a petticoat (being worn)
a cloak (being worn)
action: You examine the staff
response: You cut this staff from a blasted oak in a miserable October rainstorm, and in a dark hour engraved deep symbols on its surface with a flint knife to transform it into a Beacon of the Nether Gate, an abomination before God whose very touch shrivels the humours. It also has a minor hex on it that facilitates cheating at polo.
action: Wave staff
response: You feel a bit foolish waving the staff.
action: Act
response: You hobble about, leering, wringing your hands and cackling softly in appallingly bad Latin.
action: You read the next line
response: What do you want to read in?
action: Look around
response: Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.
action: Wave board
response: You feel a bit foolish waving the board.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a board
a staff
a petticoat (being worn)
a cloak (being worn)
action: Bs
response: A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.
action: You remove the cloak
response: You unfurl the cloth from your shoulders. Concentrating, you stick your chest out, stand contrapposto and bat your eyelashes. You're now in character.
action: About yourself
response: You are playing the part of Elise, a beautiful and chaste garlic-farmer's daughter and the darling of the Paris garrison. Scholars generally consider that the real-life Elise was a toothless Gascon whore whose only significant achievement was inaccurately throwing a rotten aubergine at Charles the Affable, but de l'Entaille was much-given to careless research and intentional romanticising.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a board
a stick
a petticoat (being worn)
a cloth
action: Os
response: Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.
action: Sing
response: Elise isn't given any songs in the original text, although there was a fashion in the eighteenth century to write in lengthy and hideous warblings for her, with titles like The Mistle-Thrush Sings In My Heart and Sweetest Fondness. Thankfully, these died out with the appearance of the theatre critic.
action: Act
response: In order to convey your poetic pulchritude to the audience, you mime a series of gracefully girlish actions: Lost In Innocent Pensiveness, Delighted by a Pretty Bird, and Oh My, Sir, But I Couldn't. None of these do a great deal to advance the plot, but you do succeed in making yourself feel like a complete wet.
action: You listen to the chorus
response: The chorus is tied to the script, but repeats its lines again, for your benefit:

CHORUS:
The hour draws close when France shall rise or fall;
The board writhes to last moves; alone, each piece is lost.
Each has emerged, as we've shown by our Art;
Our three are gathered: each must fill their part.
action: Break board
response: Easy as it would be to smash, it's necessary for the play.
action: You drop it
response: You place the board upon the floor, handle-side up... it looks suspiciously like a trapdoor!
action: You open the trapdoor
response: You pull open the trapdoor. Beneath, you can make out nothing but darkness.
action: You look at the Stage
response: (the floor)
The floor is a featureless expanse facing out into darkness.
action: You ask the chorus about the trapdoor
response: The chorus is tied to the script, but repeats its lines again, for your benefit:

CHORUS:
The hour draws close when France shall rise or fall;
The board writhes to last moves; alone, each piece is lost.
Each has emerged, as we've shown by our Art;
Our three are gathered: each must fill their part.
action: Go downward
response: As you step through the trapdoor, you sense movement in the inky black around you; you are descending into darkness, with nothing underfoot, but it feels as if wires are holding you up.

You are surrounded by darkness; nothing underfoot and a tiny light far overhead. Something allows you to dangle in space; whenever you move, you feel slight upwards pressure on your joints, and feel yourself sway a little.

A few feet from you, a wooden demon is hanging limply from his wires.
action: You look at the demon
response: At the very sight of the demon's hideous features, you are overcome by the frailties of your sex and execute a commendable swoon. However, you then take in a detail which gives you pause: the poor ickle thing has a sandbag tied to its ankle.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a stick
a petticoat (being worn)
a cloth
action: You examine the stick
response: A light but sturdy stick, about a metre and a half long.
action: You open the sandbag
response: The sandbag is tethered securely to the demon's ankle, just out of reach. You kick and swipe feebly, but to no avail.
action: You remove the coat
response: It's a little difficult to attempt anything as involved as that when you're hanging here.
action: Bs
response: You attempt to go in another direction, but since you don't have any purchase on anything, this proves impractical. Looks like your best bet is to go up.
action: Bs
response: You flail ineffectually at thin air. Although this does little, an upward force at the top of your head seems to pull you upwards, back toward the light.

Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.

You can see a trapdoor here.

A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.
action: You remove the coat
response: You step out of the petticoat, and out of role.
action: Wear cloth
response: You swirl the cloth around your shoulders like a cloak, tilt your chin upwards at an arrogant angle, and take a few strutting steps. After a brief moment of concentration, you feel properly in character.
action: Go downwards
response: Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.

You can see a trapdoor here.
You open the trapdoor, revealing a dark hole that beckons to you in an unpleasant manner. As you step cautiously through the trapdoor, you sense movement in the inky black around you; you are descending into darkness, with nothing underfoot, but it feels as if wires are holding you up.

You are surrounded by darkness; nothing underfoot and a tiny light far overhead. Something allows you to dangle in space; whenever you move, you feel slight upwards pressure on your joints, and feel yourself sway a little.

A few feet from you, a wooden demon is hanging limply from his wires.
action: You cut it
response: With one swing of your blade, the rope is cut and the sandbag drops away into empty darkness. The demon creakily shakes its leg.

MAURICE:
Now I have honour, and thee, releas't,
Put up thy sword, most naughty beast!

The demon swivels to face you, as if to respond; its lower jaw clatters up and down. The only sound is of clacking wood and creaking wires. Then it reaches above its head, clumsily selects a particular wire, and yanks forcefully on it. You immediately find yourself being hauled upwards...

Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.

You can see a trapdoor here.
action: Act
response: You strut up and down the stage, grinning roguishly, and wondering how long you can keep this up.

CHORUS:
The noxious Teuton, by each saint accursed,
Prepareth now dark devilments; from Dis' black gut
He means to call forth monsters. Dare his hand
Unbar the gate that blessed hands did seal?
action: Bs
response: A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.
action: Os
response: Stage (A German Forest)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features an unconvincing painting of pine-covered mountains and a dark, ominous sky in which a double-headed eagle is carrying off a schnitzel.

You can see a trapdoor here.
action: Act
response: You hobble about, leering, wringing your hands and cackling softly in appallingly bad Latin.
action: Go downward
response: A thunder-machine roars offstage and the lights redden and dim. With a burst of dry ice, a magnificent demon erupts from the trapdoor! You clear your throat: the audience are due for some more of Entaille's third-rate blank verse.

BIKHRIR:
Why summons't thou me to this most bleak land,
Where men are virtuous and sausages plentiful?

MCFAUD:
Did I not with thy master make of it a compact,
Binding your service to my hand's desire,
And can I not discard this if I will?

BIKHRIR:
No;
It is signed, Lysander,
In the gore of your damned carcass.

MCFAUD:
Then let my doom provide another's hope,
And at once to Paris these my friends convey.

Bikrir, grumbling loudly, stomps to the backdrop and, making a magic pass, extracts a paint-bucket and brush. In a few moments, he has coated the entire surface in a completely different talentless daub, and springs back down the trapdoor.

A second burst of dry ice signals his disappearance (and, incidentally, that of the trapdoor also).
action: You look
response: Stage (The Walls of Paris)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features a hastily-rendered painting of a medieval town, complete with the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Elysses, a vineyard and Gerard Depardieu as an onion-selling cyclist. In the distance, the flags of the invading Spanish wave menacingly.
action: You remove the petticoat
response: Stepping out of the petticoat, you tilt your chin upwards at an arrogant angle and take a few strutting steps. After a brief moment of concentration, you feel properly in character.
action: You listen to the chorus
response: The chorus is tied to the script, but repeats its lines again, for your benefit:

CHORUS:
The noxious Teuton, by each saint accursed,
Prepareth now dark devilments; from Dis' black gut
He means to call forth monsters. Dare his hand
Unbar the gate that blessed hands did seal?
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a sword
a petticoat
a cloak (being worn)
action: Go downward
response: I don't see a trapdoor around here. Do you?
action: You go to the west
response: [ To go backstage, type 'backstage' or simply 'bs' ]
action: You remove the cloak
response: You unfurl the cloth from your shoulders. Concentrating, you stick your chest out, stand contrapposto and bat your eyelashes. You're now in character.
action: Dance
response: What? You're a refined and delicate flower, not some thigh-flashing dancehall slut!
action: You listen to the chorus
response: The chorus is tied to the script, but repeats its lines again, for your benefit:

CHORUS:
The noxious Teuton, by each saint accursed,
Prepareth now dark devilments; from Dis' black gut
He means to call forth monsters. Dare his hand
Unbar the gate that blessed hands did seal?
action: Wait
response: Time passes.
action: Wave
response: You wave, feeling a bit foolish.
action: Wave stick
response: You feel a bit foolish waving the stick.
action: Os
response: But you're already onstage. Quick! Do something entertaining!
[ To go backstage, type 'backstage' or simply 'bs' ]
action: Dance
response: What? You're a refined and delicate flower, not some thigh-flashing dancehall slut!
action: Act
response: In order to convey your poetic pulchritude to the audience, you mime a series of gracefully girlish actions: Lost In Innocent Pensiveness, Delighted by a Pretty Bird, and Oh My, Sir, But I Couldn't. None of these do a great deal to advance the plot, but you do succeed in making yourself feel like a complete wet.
action: Bs
response: A room of indefinite size, hemmed in with high curtains, hanging ropes, and cluttered with wardrobes and make-up tables. Various props lie scattered about the room. Through the curtains, an entrance leads onstage.

On one wall, someone has hung a flyer.
action: Dance
response: You beat out an impromptu tap-dance to buy time, but audible yawns from the darkness cause you to reconsider.
action: Sing
response: Your big song number, And I Waggled All Their Britches, was an act and a half ago.
action: You examine the backdrop
response: The backdrop features a hastily-rendered painting of a medieval town, complete with the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Elysses, a vineyard and Gerard Depardieu as an onion-selling cyclist. In the distance, the flags of the invading Spanish wave menacingly.
action: You examine the flags
response: The malicious and wily Spanish army lurks on the horizon, flags billowing in the breeze, preparing to strike. Their victory would be an unspeakable human tragedy for the people of France, who would then be ruled by an autocratic self-serving hereditary tyrant, differing from the current autocratic self-serving hereditary tyrant in that he would be a dirty Spaniard.
action: You look at the cyclist
response: The demon's unerring brush has depicted M. Depardieu atop a shaky bicycle, a look of exaggerated astonishment and panic on his face as he rescues onions from the advancing Spanish hordes.
action: You examine the vineyard
response: Thick-limbed peasants, relaxing beneath sun-kissed grape trellises, wave wine glasses about in a drunken fashion. What they are doing in central Paris is anybody's guess.
action: You rescue the onion
response: It is indeed unfortunate, but Gerard is only part of the backdrop. Mere scenery.
action: You look at Tower
response: Characteristic landmarks of the medieval Paris skyline. Or at least, so the set designer seemed to believe.
action: Attack spaniard
response: You raise your sword, and with a wild whoop, charge the Spanish lines. You instantly think better of it when you nail your head on the backdrop. You'll certainly be feeling that tomorrow.
action: You remove the cloak
response: You unfurl the cloth from your shoulders, and let yourself relax.
action: You tie the cloth to stick
response: You carefully knot the corners of the cloth around the stick. It now makes a passable flag.
action: You wear petticoat
response: After a moment or two of hopping about, you work your way into the petticoat. Concentrating, you stick your chest out, stand contrapposto and bat your eyelashes. You're now in character.
action: Os
response: Stage (The Walls of Paris)
You are onstage, a wide expanse of blank floor facing onto darkness. Nestled behind a curtain's edge is the exit leading offstage.

The backdrop features a hastily-rendered painting of a medieval town, complete with the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Elysses, a vineyard and Gerard Depardieu as an onion-selling cyclist. In the distance, the flags of the invading Spanish wave menacingly.
action: Wave flag
response: Assuming a dynamic stance, feet wide and shoulders square, you raise the flag above your head (music swells in the orchestra pit) and begin to sweep it about vigorously. A murmur slowly rises from the chorus, and then the stage is swamped with armoured extras and dodgy swordplay.

The choreography has you standing around waving the flag in the middle of this for the better part of four minutes. Eventually, arms aching and throat sore, you stagger offstage as the narrator delivers the closing speech.