High overhead, the evil face of ASMODEUS demon-king stares down at you from a swirling grey cloud. Lightning flashes around his wide dark eyes, as he opens and closes his slobbering jaws, sucking up the vile fumes. 'Oi!' cries the Constable, 'no unnecessary violence inside the town!' He grabs you by the hair, marches you off, and throws you in... The Constable dashes in! Your strength is restored. KraaakK! The floor gives way beneath your weight...you plummet with a mighty OK - brief descriptions now. For full, type BR (for BRief) again. OK - full descriptions now. For brief, type BR (for BRief). The Banker thanks you for the offer, but regrets he has nothing to trade. Water is worth nothing in points. I don't see it...quite... You can't have that anyway! Water weighs more or less nothing. You have a little water in the palm of your hand. It looks quite normal. The inscription reads: fcvl---rxob---pqol---kdif---cqqe---byba The plaque reads: 'Say the name, in fear or doubt Perhaps the saint will get you out' 'I'm closed,' mutters the chest. Sell? I see no Shop...no shop-girl... Elsie is not ecstatic about it. 'Poo!' says Elsie, 'I seen better on a junk-heap.' With a snort of disdain, Elsie chucks it behind the counter. And you're left with the skewer. A twinkling light descends upon the altar, and snatches your offering. The spirits are content. A sigh of pleasure is borne on the wind. A rushing wind brings the fragrance of incense. The spirits are pleased. The spirits are well-supplied with water. It seeps into the ground. A patter of feet suggests that someone is rushing to hear you play... 'Oi!' cries the Banker, 'Hands off! Unless you have something to give me...' Sorry, you can't take that. You can't break that, I'm afraid. Splut! You break the keg...which explodes in a tidal wave of froth, that fillsthe cellar. You swim on the rising tide of aromatic beer, up towards the hatch, which bursts open under the beer's pressure. You are thrown out into...'Ouch!' cries the mallet, disintegrating, and leaving its handle. The portcullis falls with a resounding KLANG! You turn the winch...slowly, as if dislodging the rust of centuries, the great portcullis rises, creaking, rain-drops cascading from its bars. The key turns - the door swings open. You have no strength left...you are obliged to lay down and die. You are falling into a coma...the world retreats into a grey haze. You are feeling rather weak. Your strength is failing fast. Your strength is diminishing. You can't go that way! Rain-drops glisten on the bars of the portcullis, which is firmly in place. A fat-globule descends over your hand, as a voice booms, 'Don't touch!' A door with a brass lock stands closed to the north. A door with a brass lock stands closed to the south. Your way is blocked by the portcullis. The Constable is here. 'I can't let you pass,' he says. 'It's too dangerous out there today.' The hatch is too heavy to lift. Something obstructs the exit. 'I'm locked,' sighs the door. There seems to be no exit in that direction. Brrr...well, that's cured your cold. PHUT! I hope you enjoyed that, because it didn't do you much good. BOING! Completely useless. SKRUNCH! A door opens in the wall. On a tide of bubbling malt, you are sucked through the sluice... The sign reads, in Gothic script, 'The Times'. KLANGGG! A door opens in the wall. 'Whoopsie!' cries the chest, as you lift it and put it on one side. It was concealing a hole in the Shop's floor! It's not that simple! There is a hole in the bottom of the chest...and a hole in the floor! 'Sell or buy?' Elsie enquires. 'Everything 'ere costs points,' says Elsie, 'if you got 'em.' 'Take your time,' says Elsie, '...look around.' Elsie winks at you slyly. Sparrows hop about along the rafters. 'The situation is desperate!' cries the Mayor. 'Who can save us?' A roguish clerk throws his cap at the Mayor, who chucks it straight back. I don't think you'll get much sense out of this lot. A councillor leaps up and down in agitation. 'Order! Order!' the Mayor shouts, and waves his arms wildly. The Banker strokes his beard. 'Groats, ducats, guineas, rupees. I love 'em,' the Banker enthuses. 'My, the market is bullish today,' says the Banker with a grin. 'By the bones of Behemoth!' the Banker exclaims, 'My Credit's soaring!' The Banker's eyes twinkle like silver dollars. The scroll reads: Here I stand, a thing of stone, where once I wandered free Mothers, then, to quiet their babes would tell them tales of me, of HobGoblin, bogey-man, vilest scourge of this fair land everything I touched was damned all creatures bent the knee. But, came the day Luxmendly's lance ended my reign of fear No spell of mine, nor potent charm, could match that holy spear And now, they say, in pools like mine it waits the hero and the sign to raise it from the marsh's slime in some far-future year. The shell of the tortoise reads: I have two friends, both alive One into a fountain dives, While the other slithers slow, Looking upward from below. Drop us all - don't be a Fool - Into Eastway's holy pool. Many are the blessings there, But be right - or beware. A wind gently sighs through the trees. On a plateau of swirling grey cloud, you hover far above what appears to be an island, dark ocean-waves crashing against its crumbling cliffs. Some unearthlypower tugs at your arms, and you fall, down, down, landing with a crash in... The waters of the pool eddy and froth. From their secret depths appears... A demon! Slavering and spitting! The cursed demon KRUN! He grabs you by the ears, and pulls you down, down into the obnoxious slime of the pool! Down, down, his talons searching for your throat, as you choke, the slime filling your lungs! Bravely, you break free, and are carried way under- ground on tides of slime, fetching up gasping and choking at the... An arm...a pale white arm...and in the hand...a pole...no, a lance, yes, a lance, its point glinting in the yellow marsh-light, tassles along its shaft. With a final eddy of the murky waters, the arm throws the lance at you, and subsides back down into the depths. The lance lands with a soft PLUP! in the mud at your feet. Ooops! You drop everything! Erble berble piddly pom...you wander unsteadily, your brain a mass of fungus. You feel a mighty suction tugging at your arms...then POP! Ah ha...o well, I expect it will fetch up somewhere upstream. Ummm...o well, I expect it will fetch up somewhere along the coast. Huge were the crowds once that cheered when the hangman threw his rope over this ancient gibbet. Its beams creak, unused to the lack of weight. You have absolutely nothing. The tattoo reads: 'I love Baroness Behemoth' I can't weigh that... You have to reach the fountain to examine the scroll. You drink the water, fresh as rain-water. You can't afford it! You are aware of the fragrance of incense, and of an unseen presence... Beneath your feet, a grille in the floor swings open... Ting! NO SALE You hear the clatter of a horse's hoofs on cobbles, muffled, from the west. In an instant, out from the clouds rides Drought, on a pale horse! The rope falls over the gibbet's beam... Creaking, the beam swivels, then falls with a satisfying PLOP! Written inside the drawer is: Only will you shift the tumblers Using once all single numbers Left and right, numbers discover, Making one three times the other The drawer clicks shut. 'I'm already unlocked,' protests the safe. Correct syntax: TURN KNOB (direction) (number) The lock's tumblers fall...you've unlocked the safe. The safe resets itself...click click...you're back at square one! You lie down and sleep... You awake, ready for action. You swim in the stream, thrash around in the current, and fetch up at... Caught in the river's flood-tide, you are swept down-stream, thrashing about like a lunatic through a shoal of snapping goolies, and fetch up gasping at... Unfortunately, today the sea is full of potrezeeboid fungus-fish and snapping goolies, so I won't let you do that. You're already in the boat! You get in the boat. You're not in the boat! You get out of the boat. The boatman is here to steer the boat. Through grey waves taller than a man you row furiously, drenched in spray, till - thanks to the boatman's sure touchwith the rudder - you arrive safely at... On a sudden surge of the East Sea's tide, you are borne upstream! Without the boatman to steer you, you drift helplessly in the river's flood, spray foaming over the gunwhales. You strike something solid, are are thrown out of the boat, onto... SPLOSH! It spills over the ground and seeps away. 'You're still in me!' protests the boat. Fortunately, the door is open, and the Supervisor is engrossed in a comic. 'Ah,' says the Supervisor, 'an experienced miner, I see.' He opens the door. 'Oi!' bellows the Supervisor, 'What's your game, eh? Mucking up my markers... Returning with a hefty truncheon, he belts you about the head for a bit, then frog-marches you out, and chucks you in a crumpled heap in... The steel door is locked. Through a glassed-over wire-mesh grille you see the hairs on the back of a very thick neck. The Supervisor takes it, and dashes back to his Post. Out jumps the Supervisor, to take back the Mine's property! The Abbot dashes in! 'I say,' says he, 'I take a dim view of rascals mucking about in my Abbey. Takethat!' He belts you about the brain, and throws you out of the nearest window.You fall, down, down, landing with a PLOP! in well-manured ground. Inscription: pggf+snps+fuib+opof+uipv+tboe+uphp+cfmp+xdqw The window is a portrait of Luxmendly. He carries an M, and is pointing down. The coffin bears on its side the unusual figure of a 6-armed monkey, who is simultaneously covering his eyes, ears, and mouth. In his stomach is a hole, the size of a coin. The stone slab beneath your feet slides open...you tumble down... < > . . . . < > . . < > . . < > . . < > . . ░░░░░ . . . . ░░░░░ . . < > ░░░░░ < > . . . . < > . . . . . . < > < > Do you wish to attempt to reach the Bell (Y/N)? (Failure will be fatal!) Multiple fights are now possible. BEWARE! You have failed to reach the Bell! Out of balance, the floor tips sideways, and you slip toward the window... tumbling through, and down, earthwards... SPLOSH into the dark waters of the Port. You flounder, drowning...HELP! The floor rises...till the Great Bell of Behemoth is within your reach... You heave on the Bell's clapper, which strikes the Bell with a portentous BONG!The Bell-tower shakes. Closing your eyes, you clamp your hands over your ears.A mighty wind sweeps you off your feet... OK - now you won't have to put up with all that insufferable chatting... OK - if you really want to hear all that useless chat... Always thinking of yourself... Someone has cleverly repaired the altar's steps - they look safe enough. The curtain is embroidered - 'Curtains and too you fighting with black' The curtain is embroidered - 'We curtains for if demons no robe' That would be most unwise. It falls off! You light the beacon...flames course up over its timbers. Oily smoke rises. The spider is interested only in food, and in sinking its fangs into your neck.Ooo! Like lightning the poison courses through its hairy body, blowing it up like a football! In a paroxysm of terror, the spider tumbles against its own web, demolishing it totally. With a horrid POP! the spider expires. Stains of ectoplasm are all that is left of Bloodstains betray the recent murder of He juggles with it mysteriously. Most interesting is a picture of an Inquisitor injecting poison from a syringe into an egg, which he then obliges his prisoner to eat. Before a great bell marked HTOMEHEB stands the Abbot holding a bible in his left hand, extending two fingers of that hand and four of the other. The reflection in the table's polished surface looks somehow more realistic. A halo around Luxmendly's head reads - qpna++vjgt++qdgq++hnwz++ogpf++naik++xgur++qygt++qxgt++fgoq++puhg Amongst similar twaddle you read - epcy--rjsv--kclb--jwqy--tckc A cheeky monk has chalked, 'If only I could ring the bell, I'd be reborn'. A magical match, it bursts instantly into flame. You turn the knob...the water in the Mashing Vat begins to boil. On the knob is written, in tiny letters, 'Turn for Boil'. The water-level is too low for you to reach up to the hole. Swollen with clumps of hops, the level of the boiling water is high enough for you to proceed into the Malting Vat. The entry to the sluice is way below the water-level, out of reach. The water-level is just right for you to proceed into the sluice. The water-level is too low for you to proceed in that direction. The water-level is too high for you to proceed in that direction. The boiling water, swollen with clumps of hops, rises, lifting you on its foamycrust up towards the dripping pipe. On a tide of bubbling wort, you are swept up into the pipe, and fetch up in a cloud of steam in... Now the malt is overboard, the boat displaces less water, and the water-level drops. A brown tide of water and muddy malt sweeps you up against the sluice with such force that you are propelled from the boat, crash-landing in... All walls and rocks around here look more or less normal. The weights are multiples of 100lbs. Yuk, I don't recommend that. Do you wish to open the sluice (Y/N)? Possibly tainted with poison, you let it drip onto the ground. I'm not quite sure what you mean. 'That doesn't seem to be on sale today,' says Elsie with a frown. Water, water everywhere... 'Oi!' Elsie protests, 'Hands off!' I recommend you drop that malt elsewhere. Hops belong in the Mashing Vat. The monkey waves his arms, then everything is as before. The coffin-lid - inches from your ear - rises with a terrifying creak! Coward! Your opponent hurls insults at you as you dash off. That you can do only in the Abbey Library. which - lit by its magical link with one of Pumcoddle's beacons, spouts a plumeof holy fire up to the roof. No demons linger here. glowing, a noxious smoke curling up from its embers. Shocked at the sound of his own name, ASMODEUS shudders, then quakes, as the bones of dead Adventurers re-knit into skeletons that tear at the walls of his belly with fingers of razor-edged bone. With an overwhelming BANG! the belly explodes! Bits of the dead demon fly around you, as you fall... You don't have sufficient power to cast that spell. You have neither a match nor a lamp. Why bother? Demons can go more or less anywhere they will. The beacon is already alight. Northward, beyond the River Wend, a plume of fire rises skyward. The brazier is already alight. The brazier, one of Pumcoddle's magical creations, refuses to be lit. The beacon is alight, flames crackling over its timbers, smoke rising high. Overhead, a streak of fire flashes by, emitting an ominous whistle. Bomph! A missile lands, steel, fizzing...and explodes! KraakK! Your feet tremble with the vibrations of a subterranean rumble. There is already water in that. Eyes of fire blaze beneath his wizened brow, and his armour is stained with blood. He carries an empty bucket, that rattles against the bony ribs of his skeletal steed. 'What mortal! Where, your passport?' he enquires. 'You cannot enter here.' 'Would you leave this land,' he cries, 'with demons still wandering free?' 'Begone!' A blast of fetid air sweeps from his mouth, and carries you away... 'I see you have the passport,' says he with a mirthless grin, 'and you have slain all of Eastway's demons. Welcome, to the Land Between the Worlds.' You're in the middle of a fight! The rope falls to earth with a Plop! You don't have the seven-league boots! The idol hums, and glows bright green...a rushing wind sweeps you away... You feel nauseous...choking with the gas...its vile stench...choking... 'Erg!' the Baron moans. 'gold...where is the gold? In a safe, and Asmodeus.' 'The passport,' wheezes the Baron. 'In the box. Iron, steel, silver, gold.' 'The Bible!' sighs the Baron, 'it has the key, the spell...the Bible.' Wild-eyed, the crazed Baron bites at the sand. 'I'm done for,' the Baron moans, 'the bible...he can't stand it...' 'A bug!' the Bughunter exclaims, 'Hooray! Found it!' He does a merry jig. 'Let me give you a tip,' says he. 'To open the Brewery Sluice...line up the knob so that the last letter of the next number's name falls on that number. For example, press the knob 3 positions back from ZERO - a four-letter name - to open slat zero. For SEVEN, 4 positions back, including wrap-around. Bye.' Hissing evilly, the spider rears up to block your path. The crafty spider avoids your attack by scuttling away under a rock. Your attempt at theft, though un-detected, was a dismal failure! Caught in the act! My! Your light-fingered snatch was a complete success! Well, you only just got away with that! Are you sure you want to buy it (Yes or No)? Aaargh! Flight is useless! Elsie rubs her hands with glee. The lamp already burns with an eternal flame. HELP is available on the following - Press any key to return to HELP Menu... Press ESCape to exit HELP SNAP! Eerggg! Your neck..snapped like a twig! But you're not fighting anyone! It seems there is nothing here you can take. 'By the rules of my order,' he says, 'I am not allowed to help you. I can tell you only this. If you succeed in ringing the Abbey Bell, you will bring new life to the land. Why..it will be as it was before you arrived, but your rank and points will remain intact.' 'Thanks,' says he. 'Do you know the Baroness? Wonderful woman.' He sighs. 'Her husband's been kidnapped, you know. They say he's somewhere under the mountains. Only way I know under there is the Mine...but I've heard there's a passage from the Brewery, and through the Obelisk.' 'Food! I love it,' the Friar enthuses. 'Reminds me of when we had our last feast at the Abbey. To celebrate the last time someone found the lance of Luxmendly, it was. It seems he dropped a frog, a lizard, and a tortoise into that pool in the marsh, and - blow me - the lance just appeared from nowhere. Not many frogs around now. The only one I know of is in the Fountain.' 'Yum, tasty,' says the Friar, rubbing his belly. 'O dear. I've stained my robe. Wish I had that one in the Abbey's crypt. Magical powers it has, so they say, gives you power against demons. I've heard you need to offer something worth a thousand points on the Abbey's altar to get down there. I don't have that sort of cash.' He sighs. 'There's a rumour you can get to it from the Cemetery, though,' he adds, with a sly wink. You have slain all of Eastway's demons, and your name will live in History. The Lake of Fire is for the Dead, and you cannot kill something already dead. 'You'll need a passport to get out of Eastway,' he says. 'See the Baron.' 'Find the lance and the robe,' says he, 'for power against demons.' 'If you want a read,' he says with a wink, 'try the Abbey Library, A-Z.' 'Our gibbets are so creaky,' he says, 'they'd fall apart if you used 'em.' 'Demons.' He spits. 'You need to kill 'em all to get out of Eastway.' 'Misery! Misery!' wails the Baroness, wringing her hands. 'Desolation!' Just who do you think you're talking to? 'Questions, always questions,' 'I really can't be bothered to answer that,' 'Find out for yourself,' 'Impertinence,' 'One question after another,' 'O, an enquiring mind. How jolly,' 'Glad to see you're still awake,' 'Questions? Wish I knew the answer,' 'I don't know who could answer that,' 'Hmmmm...ask me another,' 'Who? If it's bad, then Asmodeus. Good, the Abbot,' 'O, I don't know who,' 'Frankly, I don't know who anyone is any more,' 'What? That's tricky,' 'Maybe you should read in the Abbey Library,' 'Try the Abbey Library, or Help, maybe,' 'When? Maybe you should try the Abbey Library,' 'Sorry, I've lost all track of time,' 'Whenever, whenever. Can't fix it precisely,' 'Where? I believe there's a Where spell...' 'O, I've lost all track of place nowadays...' 'Maybe you should read up in the Abbey Library,' 'Why? Why? The trickiest question of all,' 'Who could decide the motive? Not I,' 'Why not?' 'Good day,' 'Hello there,' 'Ummm...hello,' You now have the power to cast a spell of WHERE (object/mobile). You now have the power to cast a spell of JOIN (object/mobile). You now have the power to cast a spell of SUMMON (object/mobile). 'Isn't that a trifle negative?' 'No? Are you quite sure about that?' 'I would prefer a more positive view,' 'How dull,' 'Yes? Are you quite sure about that?' 'O, I admire your positive attitude,' 'How jolly,' 'How nice to be so positive,' 'Less of the personal remarks, please,' 'Me? Hmmm...' 'And what about you?' 'Is that all you have to say?' 'Maybe that's a trifle selfish,' 'I, I, I. What about me?' 'Always thinking of yourself,' 'And what are you up to now?' 'How are you today?' 'My, it looks like rain...' 'Life is a continual surprise,' 'So little time. So much to do,' 'Maybe I'll retire to the Hospital for a nap,' 'Hmmm...you look a little grubby,' 'Are you totally insane?' 'It's all go, isn't it?' 'People are so peculiar nowadays,' 'I think I'm going out of my mind,' 'There's no time like the present,' In your left hand you are wielding a In your right hand you are wielding a 'I'm locked,' sighs the safe. 'With tax,' says Elsie, 'that merchandise costs Please be more specific. 1) General 2) Commands 3) Movement 4) Levels/Ranks 5) Hints You laugh hysterically. You weep copious floods of tears. You have slain all of Eastway's demons.' Being a magic Martini, it refills itself, so you can do yourself more damage. 'Hmph! I haven't got time to waste on you,' 'Hmm, watch out. I feel jolly evil,' 'O, scumbag, ratbag, boiling newts and toads,' 'Grrr. Grrrr. Grrrrrrr,' '%$!!$&**! *$!%&&&&!!!' 'Void, abyss. Void, abyss. Give us a kiss,' 'You sweet innocent thing,' 'Grumph. Where's the treasure?' 'Scuse me while I burp,' 'I feel an attack of Evil coming on,' 'O vile corruption! Gimme a cuddle,' 'You shag-eared verminous little oik,' Only the box's metal will open the metal box. The box breaks into a million pieces...out tumbles...a passport! The silver box breaks open...inside is a golden box. The steel box breaks open...inside is a silver box. The iron box breaks open...inside is a steel box. A barrier of supernatural force ruins your spell. KLUNKKK! A door opens in the Obelisk. The Obelisk's inscription reads: 'Pumcoddle is Out'. Nothing happens. All of Eastway's beacons are now lit. A voice booms out, 'Give this person 1000 points for hygiene!' Glowing orange, the lion's head comes to life! Jaws, dripping saliva, reach for your hand - but instantly withdraw, as the lion adopts a cheery expression and reverts to brass. The Castle Gate creaks, dislodging dust, and opens. The door is closed. 'O thanks,' says he. 'I'll be on hand if you want to row the ferry-boat.' It emits a loud BURP! The corner is scuffed by the beams and planks previously dropped on it. The arch's inscription reads: ctgv++jgdg++ceqp++ucnk++ijva Press any key... Do you want to save your score (Y/N)? And fails miserably! A chasm opens in the earth - sulphurous fumes boil out over the ground... Written along the maypole is the ominous message 'Beware - here demons rise'. The chasm closes. A monk rushes in, his robe flapping. Before dashing off, he reads this note, 'Signed this day by our Abbot, under the Great Seal of Eastway. I proclaim, Attacks are made automatically 'with' whatever you are WIELDing. Windows that open are extremely rare in Eastway. 'I don't understand, master,' says Mug, blushing. 'All I understand is Stay, Follow, Come, Gimme, or Find something. I'm so sorry.' He wipes a tear from his eye. You now have the power to cast a spell of FORCE (mobile) (direction). 'O dear,' says Mug, blushing, 'I can't do that. I'm so sorry.' He weeps. 'No need, master,' says Mug cheerfully, 'You have it already.' Mug is sad. 'I couldn't find it, master,' says he, weeping. 'It is hidden.' Mug is happy, his eyes shine. 'I've found it, master!' he cries. 'I'm so sorry, master,' says Mug. 'I've not had time to find what you wanted.''O dear,' says Mug, 'I'd better not. I always drop it, I'm afraid.' 'Your wish is my command, master,' says Mug cheerfully. He zooms out. Mug is here. 'Here I am, master!' he cries, and hugs you fondly. 'TELL' should be used only of Mug the faithful slave. You're not wearing it! You're wearing it! Mug the slave zooms in... 'I shall stay here and await your return, master,' says Mug, sitting down. 'Master, I would follow you to the ends of the Earth,' says Mug, cheerfully. Mug cheerfully hands over everything he has. Mug has nothing! Mug is determined to keep what he has. You'll have to try something else. Mug the faithful slave is here, tears streaming down his face. He hugs you fondly. 'Goodbye, master,' says he, 'Come back some day to see poor Mug!' 'But, master,' Mug protests, 'it's already here!' 'Hmmm...' says Elsie, 'I've seen worse.' TING! Sold. Elsie stuffs it behind the counter. Horribly wounded, you sink to the ground, and melt into a pool of blood. Your hacked-off limbs each do a horrible jig, as you collapse... You fall face-forward on the ground, and feel a savage blow to your neck... Your limbs, hacked-off, have acquired a ghastly life of their own, twitching. Blood spurts out in a crimson curtain...whose is it? It's yours! A festering mass of bloody wounds, your opponent sinks into the earth... Your opponent's limbs, hacked-off, twitch horribly as they sink into the earth.A final thrust to the heart slices your opponent into two wriggling halves... Kkkrooosh! Your savage blow to the neck slices off your opponent's head... Sliced-up, hacked into twitching fragments, your opponent collapses... A mighty shout is borne on the wind...'Victory!' You hear a distant clamour, as of a sword on a shield, and a cry of dismay. 'Ha! Take that!' booms a distant voice. 'Ha! And don't come back!' shouts 'Victory!' cries 'You snivelling coward!' yells An inscription reads - 'Where, o where, Luxmendly's lance?' Perhaps you'll find the scroll more interesting. An inscription - 'Swim a river, row a boat, give a boatman one more groat.' An inscription - 'Alas, alack - I swam the river but didn't get back.' 'Now, where's that bible?' says 'You really must visit our Crypt,' suggests 'You haven't seen my box anywhere, have you?' asks 'I'm looking for some good manure. Any ideas?' asks 'Have you rung the Abbey Bell yet?' enquires 'Ah, I must write something under IDOL for the Library,' muses 'I'd lend you my bible. But you'd only sell it,' sighs 'Ah, Luxmendly's lance. There's a scroll somewhere...' muses 'Are you a musician? I love a good tune,' giggles 'I had a boy-friend from Southway once,' sighs 'Nice in 'ere, ain't it?' enthuses 'We're open all hours,' sighs 'Ooo, I haven't heard the Abbey Bell ring for ages and ages,' simpers 'I think Elsie's a nice name. Don't you?' asks 'Are you totally bonkers?' enquires 'Will you buy me a new frock?' enquires 'My, you look a little downcast,' says 'Anyone with money is a friend of mine,' enthuses 'I do hope you're not a revolutionary,' says 'I see the market is unpredictable again,' says 'Time is Money,' insists 'Money is Time,' admits 'Wish someone would ring the Abbey Bell,' sighs 'I see the market in robes and lances is strong today,' muses 'You remind me of a penguin I once knew,' sighs 'It's a long way to Tipperary,' enthuses 'Well, I've seen the whole wide world,' snorts 'I admire the cut of your jib,' says 'Do you have a tattoo?' enquires 'Hmm, was that the Abbey Bell I heard ringing?' says 'Avast behind! I'm going aft for a marlin spike!' cries 'I met a native girl in Bongoville once...' sighs 'Order! Order!' cries 'Motions, amendments, speeches, votes. I'm sick of it,' moans 'Perhaps I'll take a nap,' muses 'You're not some sort of demon, are you?' enquires 'Are all the beacons alight?' enquires 'Maybe it's because I'm an Eastlynner...' croons 'Reliable trousers are a necessity,' booms 'Wish someone would ring the Abbey Bell,' sighs 'Eeek! I'm a teapot, here's my spout,' wails 'Nobody knows the trouble I seen...' croons 'Open the box, open the box, open the box,' mutters 'Excuse me while I kill myself,' sighs 'Ding Dong! Ring the Abbey Bell!' suggests 'How are the mighty fallen!' quotes 'The End of the World is nigh!' wails 'The things that you're liable, to read in the Bible...' sings 'pssssshaw,' hisses 'oooopy doooos,' insists 'hummmm hoooo,' suggests 'splin splin eggy thump,' croons 'argle bargle foody things' suggests 'hissssstory is bonk,' admits 'sssssuffering polecatsssss,' cries 'ssssshow me the way to go hoooooome,' sings 'What's this 'ere, then?' enquires 'Let's be 'aving you!' cries 'You nasty little oik!' booms 'Has someone lit the beacons?' enquires 'Life's been 'ard since they pulled down the Jail,' moans 'Was that you I 'eard, ringing the Abbey Bell?' enquires 'All this violence. Robes and lances. I don't know,' sighs 'Ever been to the Fountain in the Abbey Fields?' enquires 'Bugs, bugs, glorious bugs,' croons 'Bugger that,' swears 'Maybe it's bugause I'm an Eastlynner...' sings 'Don't bug me,' suggests 'Bugty is in the eye of the beholder,' puns 'Plenty of bugs in the Abbey Bell-tower,' hints 'A bug in time saves nine,' says 'Many a bug has to fall, but it's all in the game,' sings 'Here ratty! Come to daddy!' cries 'You remind me of a cockroach,' insists 'Haven't you rung the Abbey Bell yet?' asks 'Hmmm...where's that idol?' hints 'I don't suppose you've seen any rats, have you?' enquires 'You dirty rat!' quotes 'Bats in the belfry, rats in my sack!' laughs 'Nothing more tasty than a juicy rat,' suggests 'Nothing more tasty than a fresh-cooked pie,' sighs 'I'll be frying tonight!' enthuses 'You know, I tried to ring the Abbey Bell once,' admits 'Got any food?' enquires 'Three coins in a monkey...' croons '(burp!). O, pardon me!' sighs 'Hmmm. I could do with a quick snack,' says 'Now, where did I put that idol?' muses 'Hmmm...interesting...' simpers 'This could be a major discovery!' cries 'O, the Iron Age. Then Steel, Silver, Gold,' muses 'Dem bones, dem bones, dem dryyy bones...' croons 'Hmmm...even more ancient than the Abbey Bell,' enthuses 'Are the beacons alight, all four of 'em?' enquires 'I'm an expert on lances and robes. Got one?' enquires 'What I really need is a spade,' mutters 'Haw haw! Hee hee!' laughs 'How jolly!' insists 'The things that you're liable, to read in the Bible...' croons 'I wish I was a lemon. Then I'd give you the pip,' quips 'Three coins in a monkey...' sings 'There's a treasure in the Town, in the Town,' croons 'Put a sock in it,' suggests 'Ding Dong! Ring the Abbey Bell!' chortles 'Deep in Earth's belly lies the robe of Power,' sighs 'Hell is murky. Fie, my lord!' cries 'Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd?' enquires 'Out, damned spot! Out, I say!' says 'Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...' sighs 'What bloody man is that?' mumbles 'A Bell? The Abbey Bell?' mutters 'All is but toys. Renown and grace is dead,' quotes 'Isn't it a nice day?' enthuses 'Everyone is so nice to poor Mug!' cries 'Things will soon be looking up,' insists 'Good fortune is just around the corner,' simpers 'You seem such a friendly person,' says 'Dearie me, what does this mean?' muses 'Nothing wrong lasts for long,' muses 'Poor Mug needs a cuddle,' moans 'I need a drink,' insists 'I don't suppose you have any of that gut-wrenching Northway gin?' enquires '(burp!)' burps 'I'll have you know, I used to be really famous,' admits 'Anyone seen my bucket?' enquires 'Wine, rum, whisky, and gin. Nothing quite like it for doing you in,' croons 'Set 'em up, Joe. One for the road,' mumbles 'Wish I hadn't lost my driving licence,' moans 'Excuse me while I crawl around,' mutters 'Am I bothering you?' enquires 'Life? It's rubbish,' insists 'I love my mattress. We've been through a lot together,' admits 'I used to be a hismit, but I had the operation,' quips 'O, the robe of Luxmendly. I seen it once, under the Abbey,' muses 'I wouldn't like to think I was bothering you,' insists 'Where's that box?' enquires 'Pull, me hearties, thar she blows! Suck some seaweed up your nose!' sings 'Row, row, row your boat, pom pom pom,' croons 'Groats, groats, glorious groats,' enthuses 'Rowlocks,' mumbles 'You should take more exercise,' suggests 'O, I love that Fountain in the Abbey Fields,' muses 'I admire the cut of your jib,' quips 'O for a life on the Ocean's swell!' cries 'Two and two is twenty-two,' insists 'Nothing adds up,' suggests 'I got tooth-ache,' wails 'Statistically, you're not here,' simpers 'Wanna dirty postcard?' enquires 'Fangs in your memory,' croons 'Hubba hubba,' mutters 'Definitely possible, possibly definite,' muses 'Yerk!' screams 'O, you scumbag!' wails 'O creeping pustulence, O volcanic boil!' whinges 'I got you, all over my skin,' croons 'Ekblinkypoodrops, another black-head,' mumbles 'Do you have any ointment?' enquires 'Perhaps I been eating too many Adventurers,' sighs 'A fat-free diet is the answer,' mutters 'Don't bother me,' insists 'I don't like the look of you,' says 'You low-life oik. Get out of my way,' suggests 'A regular little mummy's pet, aren't you?' snorts 'I think I may snap your neck like a dry twig,' muses 'Perhaps you'd like my talons around your throat,' muses 'Don't try my patience,' says 'I hope you've taken out Life Insurance,' suggests 'Dem bones, dem bones, dem dryyy bones,' croons 'Ever heard a skeleton sing?' enquires 'This could be a grave mistake,' quips 'I gotta bone to pick with you,' insists 'Better late than dead on time,' muses 'Maybe it's becorpse I'm an Eastlynner...' sings 'Your situation is grave,' laughs 'Speak up! I'm death in one ear,' jokes 'Tra loo! Tra lay!' cries 'Sancte et sapienter. Mine's a pint,' mutters 'Eye of newt and toe of frog...' mumbles 'Excuse me while I bounce about for a bit,' says 'I think you're out of your mind,' snorts 'I hope you haven't found my idol,' sighs 'Quid tandem sit odio?' enquires 'I can't seem to get the hang of this spell...' sighs 'Eeek! Eeek!' squeaks 'Ooopy dooooes! Ooopla!' shrieks 'Here we go gibbering, gibbering, gibbering,' croons 'Ooooops!' wails 'Imply pimply bong-bong?' enquires 'Um bibble-bibble yoopy do,' insists 'Stum bumply pompitydoobah,' suggests 'Tum titty rumpole paddle-stick,' muses 'Don't look at me like that,' insists 'Idol Idle, jumpin' jimminy,' mutters 'Are you a mutation too?' enquires 'I come from the sands of Egypt,' booms 'Slaves serve my every need,' insists 'To think I left my palace on the Nile, for this,' sighs 'Egypt, o my Egypt. Egypt's might is tumbled,' moans 'I feel a cruel Egyptian spell coming on,' mumbles 'Excuse me while I pick my nose,' simpers 'I like your nose,' admits 'I'm sure you wouldn't mind me borrowing your nose,' says 'And what's wrong with a long nose?' enquires 'I'll bash your head in,' insists 'Do you like my nose?' asks 'It's taken me three hundred years to grow this nose,' admits 'I'm very proud of my nose,' confesses 'I gotta bone to pick with you,' mutters 'Have you gotta bone to pick with me?' enquires 'Nice bones, dry bones, yummy yummy. Wet bones, yum yum,' enthuses 'I like your bones. They look very tasty,' chuckles 'I'd like to nibble your fingers,' admits 'Would you mind if I cut off your head?' enquires 'What rot. I love it,' giggles 'My, you look tasty. Sweet and crunchy,' smirks 'I say, I say, I say,' says 'I slay, I slay, I slay,' says 'You don't look like a demon,' insists 'Roll up! Roll up! All the fun of the fair!' shouts 'There's no business like show business,' giggles 'Pardon me while I fool around,' chuckles 'Nothing like a bit of slapstick humour,' mumbles 'Bring on the clowns!' shrieks 'Snoo snum snorum,' snuffles 'Gumph,' grunts 'Eek! Eek!' squeaks 'Umph barf,' insists 'Blerble,' suggests 'Gumph Gumph,' grunts 'Pissola,' (or something like that) cries 'Brimble Pong,' snorts 'I need a hot bath and some hot love,' croons 'Let me show you a good time,' suggests 'You wanna fool around?' enquires 'I like your style,' simpers 'Shall we boogie-woogie?' enquires 'I hope you like my dimples,' says 'Gimme all of your loving...' sings 'How about some pleasure, my treasure?' suggests 'I bet 10-1 it rains before lunch,' says 'I need a stiff drink,' sighs 'O evil and perverse generation!' cries 'The End of the World is not nigh!' shrieks 'I predict that I am soon to make a prediction,' booms 'Yes, I see it all now,' sighs 'O, to untangle the future's mysterious web!' simpers 'I predict that it will soon be now,' quips 'You are feeling sleepy...' insists '...you 'ave a sudden urging to throw yourself in de river,' suggests 'Come, my little strudel, give me all your money,' whispers 'Would you make fun of Mother Russia?' enquires 'Perhaps you like to suffer de agonies of de rack?' asks 'Ah. You are in my power,' insists 'I shall lock up your soul, and throw away de key,' mumbles 'And what is wrong wiv dis beard of mine?' asks 'What's that smell?' enquires 'Yuk! Fresh air!' wails 'You want me to kill you?' asks 'I could do with some fresh blood,' mutters 'I feel a cruel spell coming on,' sighs 'Hmm. Maybe it's time for Murder,' muses 'I'd like to rip you apart,' says 'I'll tear you limb from limb,' insists 'Blood. I want your blood,' insists 'I'm mean and evil. How are you?' smirks 'Just a little bite...' simpers 'Can I nibble your neck?' enquires 'I'll ssssuck you dry,' hisses 'Do you like cricket?' enquires 'I'll come knocking on your window, late at night,' giggles 'No fangs jokes, please,' sighs 'I'd just love to tap-dance on your skull,' giggles 'Oooo! You're so cute!' simpers 'Will you buy me an ice-cream?' enquires 'On the gooood ship Lollipop...' croons 'I think I'll kill you, just for spite,' smirks 'Mummy!' wails 'Do you like my pretty dress? I made it from a dead whale,' insists 'I think you're nasty and rude,' simpers 'I can't be bothered with you,' intones 'Frankly, you make me sick,' insists 'Run away and play with a doll,' snorts 'What is your purpose?' enquires 'Don't you like goats?' asks 'To me you appear entirely insignificant,' insists 'Begone from my sight, worm!' booms 'I expect you know nothing of Magic,' sighs 'I want your guts,' insists 'Guts! Bellies! Stomachs! Tummies! I love 'em!' yells 'Can I fondle your tummy?' enquires 'I like your guts,' simpers 'I hope you admire my enormous belly,' enthuses 'I'm not interested in your brain,' says 'It's guts I want, entrails, intestines,' smirks 'Just let me put my hand down your throat...' suggests 'Alas, I never was any good at spells,' moans 'Shall I cut your head off?' enquires 'I suspect you're a German spy,' insists 'O, the Devil rides in and out,' simpers 'What? No pentacles?' smirks 'That ole black magic that voodoo so well...' croons 'Perhaps I'll smash your face in,' muses 'My astral plane just crashed,' sighs 'Hi there, guys and gals!' shrieks 'Your starter for 10...' simpers 'Bum bum bum. Cor, what a laugh!' yells 'I shall say this only once...' giggles 'Nice to see you. To see you...' smirks 'All the 2s, twenty-two. Two little ducks. Quack quack!' screams 'Name that tuuuunnne...' croons 'Open the box!' yells 'I do not like your numbers,' booms 'On your knees!' commands 'Will you not bow down and worship me?' enquires 'All the 6s, clickety-clickety-click,' quips 'What does Paradise Cost?' muses 'If All is Infinite, then so is Evil,' deduces 'I have no time for simpering mortals,' intones 'Who knows where the time goes?' sings Overcome by a fit of the ague, you shiver, and spill the water. Hello Master! Or - if you're a lady - Hello Mistress! I'm too young to know the difference. I'm so sorry. My name is Mug, and I am here to help you survive your adventure in the dark and dangerous world where I live. I'm afraid I'm not very bright - I'm told it's something to do with the size of my ears - but there are all sorts of interesting books in the Abbey Library about me and my friends. Oh, it's so nice to see you. What would you like to do? You can - A) Enter Mug's world B) Browse through Interesting Text C) Change Function Keys D) Delete a current player E) Exit MUG Please press A, B, C, D, or E... You climb the altar's steps...they crumble beneath your feet... Phew...well, that's cured your heat-stroke. O dear - you've gobbled up all of the stew! You can't wear that! You can't handle that many fights! Mug doesn't have it! But you're not in the Shop! With, from what? The numbered scales of the Beast fly in all directions, and wherever one lands a new demon rises! BEWARE! Three simultaneous fights are now possible! You climb the altar's steps...and reach the idol! The cobweb hangs in tatters, easily brushed aside. JEZEBEL strokes your cheek. You feel JEZEBEL's silken arm slip around your waist. JEZEBEL fondles your backside. O dear. JEZEBEL's heavy petting is wearing you out. JEZEBEL's erotic contortions inflame your senses. It seems that JEZEBEL is doing something very rude with your knees. 'Oooo!' sighs JEZEBEL, as you fall fatally under her spell. It is an iron box, engraved 'O for the age of Steel!' It is a steel box, engraved 'O for the age of Silver!' It is a silver box, engraved 'O for the age of Gold!' It is a gold box, engraved with the death's-head emblem of the Behemoth clan. A silvery bell tinkles merrily in the distance. Somewhere down the Mine, a horn emits a warning note. You're not in the Shop... You already have it! It's not there! You don't have it! You can't do that! I don't see it there. Mug doesn't have it! ASMODEUS floats away... The coffin is closed. A bitter wind blows westward from the sea, rain-clouds overhead. Storm-clouds sweep overhead, as an icy wind cuts you to the bone. Driven westward by a sudden squall, ominous black clouds gather overhead. A shower of cold rain falls... Monsoon-like rain stair-rods down, drenching the ground and you. Rain falls in a solid sheet all around, overwhelmingly cold. O dear. Because you're rather under-dressed - you've caught a cold. I should do something about that cold, if I were you. Nasty. Your cold has developed into pneumonia. The very walls breathe Health into you, curing all ills. The sun beats down with unaccustomed ferocity, the temperature rises... Something must have happened to the ozone layer - the sun is oddly fierce. The temperature rises...the sky clears...the sun beats down... The heat is stifling... Phew. The temperature soars...unbearably hot...the sun close enough to touch. You are strangely mesmerised by the sun's overwhelming glare. O dear. Because you're rather over-dressed - you've developed heat-stroke. I should do something about that heat-stroke, if I were you. Nasty. Your heat-stroke threatens to be fatal. Ah, the sky clears...the rain stops. Ah, clouds mask the sun...the temperature falls. Your limbs feel like lead. You feel rather groggy. You don't feel at all well. A hooded Monk strolls in, and examines the altar's steps. 'Hmm..' says he, 'The stones of these steps are in a bad state - look, there're stones marked F in step E, and G in step D. Tut tut. Would you like to rebuild the steps, Yes or No?' From inside his robe the Monk produces two crotchet-like musical notes. He hands them to you. They are of a light, tingling metal, and are marked with an H. 'These are magic notes,' he says, 'and you will find others below. Swap them around, by taking them from one place and dropping them in another, till all the notes are where they belong, and these notes of H are back in your hand. You can carry only two notes at once. And I'm afraid - as Magic wears out - there is a limit to the number of times you can move up and down. Good luck!' The Monk strolls out. Ah...is that a musical note? I don't hear it. To move, you must be holding no more and no less than two notes. A piercing note rings out! Somewhere overhead, you hear masonry moving. The hooded Monk returns. 'You have failed!' he cries, taking your notes... The hooded Monk dashes in. 'Success!' he cries, taking your notes. He dashes out, as you hear masonry moving above and below you. You are in the boat. You are trapped in the power of the Altar of Immortal Tunes. The steps of the altar crumble beneath you...and you fall... (Sigh) Unfortunately, Mug is un-watchable. Ok. Now you're watching no-one. There is no light by which to see. You are floundering in total darkness. Pitch-black darkness envelops you. The helmet tumbles from the altar - and the sad-looking skull that it containeddescribes a loop in mid-air, landing with a Plop! in your sticky grasp. The skull cracks, then breaks into splinters...releasing a dart into your hand.The helmet is out of reach. The dartboard glows a lurid red... A fat Monk tumbles past, crying 'Three ingredients for a stew, plus...' From the cooking pot, a voice cries, 'Hello! I'm cooked!' You peer inside - and spy a tasty stew. 'Hello,' it says, 'Fifteen helpings of me...handy.' Ouch! There's something in it. The Banker waddles in. 'Would you like a game of cards, yes?' he enquires. 'My game is baccarat,' the Banker continues. 'Still want to play, yes?' 'Would you like my rules for baccarat, yes or no?' 'We play against each other, and we are playing for those score-points which are the currency of this land. First you get two cards, and you bet - from 50 to 250 points. You then have the option of a third card. After that, I play. Then you reveal your cards. If your cards add up closer to 9 than mine, then you win. Court cards count as 10, and Aces as 1. The value of your cards is the number left over when you subtract multiples of 10 from the sum of your cards. For example, 23 counts as 3, and 17 as 7. Still want to play, yes?' How odd there are no spiders in the Graveyard. It's easy to make a stew: all you need is ingredients and a cooking pot. Luxmendly's lance is guarded by three small creatures. Examine them closely. ASMODEUS is very self-conscious. Ha! A demon missing, eh? Why...who's that above the Castle? I've heard of coin-op loos, but coffins? Ridiculous. hello, or is it gdkk+n, or gdkk-n, or ifmm+p? Never can remember. Mug might be more useful in a fight if you gave him something powerful. Have a read in the Abbey Library. READ B, for example, or READ S. Where's that idol? It'll save you leg-work.
