"He found the knowledge at the heart of the universe; Returned, and cut his story into stone..." -- The Epic Of Gilgamesh Whom The Telling Changed By Aaron A. Reed Would you like instructions?>yes I am your eyes and hands within the story. Direct me with commands such as EXAMINE THE BAG, GO OUTSIDE, LISTEN, or FIGHT HIM. Single word shorthand like FIGHT or BAG will often suffice. Some single words will be highlighted to bring them to your attention: type them to shape the story. The header bar suggests things you may try, but there are always more options available than it shows. Time only advances when you give a command or type LISTEN, which it is sometimes wise to do. Other useful commands include REPEAT, to remember what was recently said; STORY to see the choices you have made; INVENTORY to see what you are holding; WAIT to let the time pass; UNDO to take back your last turn; and GREET, MOCK, PRAISE, TALK TO or ASK ABOUT to interact with characters. More information about this story is available by typing ABOUT. Press any key to begin. The people have always gathered on moonless nights to hear the telling, since the time of your ancestors' ancestors. The heat of the fire and the glow in the storyteller's eyes make the past present, and the path to the future clear. Tonight the stars are bright, but the minds of your people are troubled. May the words of the telling guide your way. ----------- The walls of your tent glow yellow in the lamplight, your simple possessions casting flickering shadows on the wall. A straw bed; some skins of water, oil, and wine; a small, guttering lamp--it is simple, but it is enough. The symbol of your occupation hangs from the central support of the tent. >look signal [I'm not sure what you are referring to.] >look symbol That is not nearby. >walk symbol Which do you mean, the medicine bag or the copper dagger? >drink water Water for your hands, oil for your lamp, wine for your thirst. You need none of them now, but knowing they are there brings comfort. >leave tent [That action is unimportant to this story.] >walk You hesitate for a moment. The telling will begin soon, and it is custom to bring the symbol of your occupation to so important an event. >pick up symbol Which do you mean, the medicine bag or the copper dagger? >unhang symbol [I'm not sure what you are referring to.] >take symbol Which do you mean, the medicine bag or the copper dagger? >take bag The leather strap feels cool and familiar in your hands as you take your medicine bag down from its place. >exit You step outside into the warm night air. It has been night for many hours, but the air is still warm, and the stars are a million brilliant fires above you. Nearby are the vague outlines of your neighbors' tents, but on this moonless night only the distant glow of the fire pit seems truly alive. In the darkness a few feet away, Sihan and Saiph talk quietly in strained tones. As you approach, your enemy grows silent. Your love turns to you with a look of relief and reaches out a hand. >story This is a story about a healer in the village, the night of the telling, and whom the telling changed. >go sihan That's not something you can enter. >talk sihan You clasp Saiph's strong hand and turn to Sihan with a frown. "What business have you here?" you ask her coldly. Sihan tosses her hair and fixes her sharp gaze on you. "I came to see if Saiph is truly a man of action and not only of words," she says levelly. "But I see that, like you, he is counted among the cowards and the weaklings. I have no more to say." She turns and vanishes into the darkness without a sound. >help [Things to try: LOOK | LOOK AT | GO | TALK TO | GREET | ATTACK | TAKE | TOUCH | HEAL | LISTEN | PRAISE | MOCK | STORY | UNDO | or an EMPHASIZED word. For more detailed instructions, type INFO] >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior man, Saiph, and how the night of the telling would change them both. >go darkness The time is not right to speak about that. >listen saiph A gust of cool wind tugs your clothes. Saiph frowns. "Her heart clamors for war with these newcomers," your lover says, "and was upset to find I do not share her views. We shall see if your enemy has better luck at the telling." He looks up to the stars, and adds, "It is a good night for it." >newcomers? "Have you heard the news?" he asks. "Young Ada found traces of a camp less than an hour's walk from here, and more than half a day from their fires in the valley. Sihan and her friends are already sharpening their spears and preparing for war," he says darkly. >fires? "The moon has waxed and grown small again since they arrived," Saiph murmurs, holding you tightly. "Why don't they come to us? Why do they hide when we send our emissaries? They must know the unrest they're causing in us." >unrest? "Sihan has been asking all the warriors to support her plan to attack the newcomers," your love says. "She is convinced they are planning to murder us all in our beds at any moment. She is so sure of herself; how nice it must be to have such conviction in one's own superiority." >sihan? The time is not right to speak about that. >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior man, Saiph, and how the night of the telling would change them both. >night Saiph points up at the night sky. "See how bright the stars are," he says, "as if the gods themselves gather round our fire to hear the teller's story." >telling "It is almost time," your love says seriously. "I wonder, what story will we hear tonight? The people are buzzing about the newcomers; perhaps the teller's story will be about them." Saiph glances towards the fire pit, ducks inside the tent and emerges a moment later with his copper dagger, sliding it into its familiar place at his waist. "Let us join the gathering and hear the story," your love says lightly, and turns to the fire at the center of the village. >fire You walk to the firepit with Saiph, and friends and neighbors greet you with a nod or quiet word. Always the fire pit is the center of the village, and always the people gather there. Faint smells of tonight's great feast still linger, but the fire now smolders low, only a shadow of its roaring fierceness at sunset. Isi and Nabu stand near the fire, along with a growing crowd. Saiph stands near your side. >greet isi "My brightest light," says Isi as she always does, a smile lighting her face as she pulls you down to kiss your cheek. >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior man, Saiph, and how the night of the telling would change them both. >greet nabu Your uncle Nabu regards you seriously. "Is your Saiph ready to fight for this village, should it be necessary?" he asks. "Perhaps it will not come to fighting," you say. "Who can tell?" he says, "But those who bear arms must be prepared, nonetheless." >nabu Your father's brother Nabu has never been good with a spear, but there is a warrior somewhere inside him that the wise respect more than the strongest man in the village. He is short and stern; quiet, but clever and collected. He is old, now, but his spirit is as strong as ever. Saiph places a hand on your shoulder. "Go on, my love," he says softly. "Give the circlet of office to the storyteller. It is time." >isi Isi's long black hair is white now, and her soft skin is loose and wrinkled, but her eyes have grown sharper with each passing year. Your father's sister sees more than most; the truth behind deceit and the sadness behind smiles. Her eyes sparkle as they meet yours, and she gives you a tiny nod. >storyteller "The storyteller awaits," Saiph says. "The telling cannot begin until the teller's circlet has been gifted." >circlet? Saiph reaches out with a delicate hand and touches the feathers lightly. "So beautiful," he says quietly, "more than worthy to replace the one that was lost. The storyteller will be pleased. It is fine work; perhaps among your finest." Saiph places a hand on your shoulder. "Go on, my love," he says softly. "Give the circlet of office to the storyteller. It is time." >storyteller "The storyteller awaits," Saiph says. "The telling cannot begin until the teller's circlet has been gifted." >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior man, Saiph, and how the night of the telling would change them both. >gret [Things to try: LOOK | LOOK AT | GO | TALK TO | GREET | ATTACK | TAKE | TOUCH | HEAL | LISTEN | PRAISE | MOCK | STORY | UNDO | or an EMPHASIZED word. For more detailed instructions, type INFO] >greet You'll have to specify whom you wish to greet. >isi Isi's long black hair is white now, and her soft skin is loose and wrinkled, but her eyes have grown sharper with each passing year. Your father's sister sees more than most; the truth behind deceit and the sadness behind smiles. Her eyes sparkle as they meet yours, and she gives you a tiny nod. >circlet Saiph reaches out with a delicate hand and touches the feathers lightly. "So beautiful," he says quietly, "more than worthy to replace the one that was lost. The storyteller will be pleased. It is fine work; perhaps among your finest." Saiph places a hand on your shoulder. "Go on, my love," he says softly. "Give the circlet of office to the storyteller. It is time." >give circlet Whom do you want to give the feather circlet to? >storyteller Your people have always believed in the power of names. For such an important ceremony as this, you must use the teller's name. >give circlet Whom do you want to give the feather circlet to? >isi You approach your aunt Isi and hand the circlet to the white-haired old woman. She takes it delicately, eyeing the craftsmanship, and then looks up at you and smiles warmly. Carefully, she lifts it up to her old head--and now before you is no longer your father's sister, but the storyteller... a role she has taken every new moon for many years. >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior man, Saiph. On the night of the telling, when the healer's aunt Isi became the teller, something happened which long changed the people of the village, the warrior, the healer and even their enemies. >warrior? The time is not right to speak about that. Sihan approaches the far side of the fire and greets some friends warmly. >sihan The time is not right to speak about that. Saiph kisses your cheek. "May the story bring you what you seek," he whispers, then slips into the crowd. Your beloved has always liked to hear the stories by himself. >isi The time is not right to speak about that. The murmurings of the people die away as the storyteller rises to her feet and raises two bony hands. >listen A gust of wind makes the ashes of the fire hiss. The storyteller shouts, "In this time of darkness the people gather for the telling. Will the people hear?" >yes You call out your response along with many others. The crowd cries out with one voice, "The people are ready." The teller bows humbly, accepting the people's blessing, then straightens with the hint of a smile. "Tonight," she says, "we shall hear an old, old story, from days long ago when great cities and mighty kings ruled this land. May you find in the story that which you seek." >ok You smile, your affinity lighting up your face. The storyteller lifts her hands in invocation. "Our story begins," she says quietly, "in the far-off city of Uruk. Uruk of the broad streets, Uruk of the mighty walls. Can you see them, gleaming in the desert heat?" The teller gestures into the night, and in your mind the walls come alive, shimmering in the desert air. "Come," she continues, "cross the ancient threshold, walk the streets and orchards and markets. Walk the streets and climb the great stone steps to the temple. Climb the steps and find the box of burnished copper. Find the box and undo the lock and draw out the great tablet of deep blue stone. Draw out the tablet and read of Uruk's king, Uruk's pride, Uruk's greatest hero. Hear of the trials of Gilgamesh." >uruk "Tell more of the city of Uruk," you ask. "Uruk, mighty Uruk of the wide streets," the teller says with shining eyes, "its heart the temple of Inanna, towering over all; its skin mighty walls of oven-fired brick, their like unmatched in all the world. Uruk, planned by the seven sages and filled with orchards and gardens. Never was a city more mighty and proud than Uruk, and never had any city so great a king." >gilgamesh You wonder why the teller has chosen a story of Gilgamesh, whose name is legend. Is it to inspire the people in a time of fear? >why "Is this a well-chosen tale?" you ask respectfully. "Should we hear stories of battle and war when they lie on our very doorstep?" The crowd looks hesitantly between you and the storyteller, who regards you with inscrutable eyes. "Stories are not all of far off places and distant times," she says softly. "The world tells us stories every day, and the wise pay heed. Gilgamesh may teach us much tonight, if we have the ears to hear." You bow your head, accepting the storyteller's decision. A bat circles above the fire for a moment, then swoops away. >story This is a story about a healer in the village who was in love with a strong warrior man, Saiph. On the night of the telling, when the healer's aunt Isi became the teller, their enemy Sihan tried her best to turn the people towards needless war with the outsiders. >