The Shifty Scholar
Though the building looks fairly worn on the outside, it proves otherwise within. A drinking establishment of some sort, the place seems to be in quite good repair. The bar is unattended, but behind the counter gleam rows of colored bottles, with even more colored liquids within. On the opposite wall sits an unlit fireplace, and above it are small, hung objects and various other mementos. Among the violets, roses and wreaths of moss and daffodil, you spot a small poem:This place of shelter and midnight revels
Has trapped within an unwilling devil.
Though he suffers and wishes to be free,
Because of him we are safe and merry.
You dismiss the writings as that of a drunkard, but even so, you give a quick glance to the door in the WEST wall.
POEM: Unknown
>Examine mementos
Wreaths, flowers, carvings, engraved leather strips, and other such things. They are of no worth but to their owners.
>Wait out storm
There is no storm outside.
>West
Dark City
You stand in the remains of a city. All around you, wreckages of houses litter the the streets, and broken furniture fills their hollows. The tall buildings still standing point like crooked fingers, as if signalling a dark omen - or the cause of their demise - in the thick heavy cloud that covers the city. Its black visage seems to hold an almost malevolent disposition, and you feel unsafe as you stand in the shadow of this false sky. You endeavor to ignore the thing, and instead look to world around you to distract yourself from its presence. To SOUTH you see a worn path into the wilderness, while to the NORTH lie the city gates - and past them, the Great Desert, a treacherous stretch of sand that some never leave. As you look around to make your decision, your eyes fall on a small building to the EAST, seemingly untouched by whatever cataclysm befell this place. Peculiar.
You see the sun setting to the WEST. It is night.
POEM: Unknown
>North
Great Desert
The desert spreads out like a vast road before you. Many paths to take, but only one of them leads back home. You look for landmarks, trails, or signs of your passing, but the endless wind builds and rebuilds the dunes like the fickle creator it is. Unless you can piece together the path you took here, it shall also be the decisive destroyer...
beneath seizing, sinking sand?
of his town; A kind mirage.
to home of distant laughter.
by that lonely one,
That traveler who after
His shattered family, sought
his longest journey,
alone, returned he
He ponders of his homeland
Is it there at all
see every instance
He can, in desert's collage,
albeit found none
does it hear his call?
though it seemed to him he ought.
- in the vast distance -
...with a worried glance, you look behind you at the gates of the city to the SOUTH. Perhaps it is not yet time to cross.
>_
((I can't get you to the next area until I access my notes, but I should be able to get to them in a few hours.))
Author
Topic: Storm: A Poetry-based Text Adventure (Read 9457 times)