DW: DARKWORLD: Turn 2

From: pbem@aol.com (PBEM)

Date: Wed, 16 Aug 1995 00:00:00 +0000

---------------TURN TWO (8/16/95)--------------------------

Current Players:
PBEM@aol.com (Mark - game referee)
felagi@algonet.se (Hans Sundqvist)
holmqer@hsd.utc.com (?)
driser@infogo.infogo.com (Darryl Riser)

You make a comment or two to yourself, and suddenly are amazed to find
that
the privacy of your thoughts are not as private as you expected.  Other
thoughts, in other internal voices, begin floating around inside your
head.
You sense that each voice is talking to itself, and yet the whole
collective
set seems in some way "you," which is alien and hard to grasp.  The voices
inyour head, including your own, enter into a poorly coordinated
conversation, speaking over one another, and being partially responsive.

You find yourselves saying to yourselves, "This place, if it is Hell,
isn't
as dark as I've always thought 'down there' would be.    I despair.  I
feel a
little confused about all this. But it is early yet.  There is still time
to
sing and dance at funerals. I may still be footloose. I am the one come.
But
then perhaps this is only the entrance. I
hunger and it cannot help me."

You look around.  There a limit to the green turf.  It looks as if it ends
at
the edge of the light.  The darkness beyond seems absolute.  You look down
to
see what you can of your
body and hands.  They are only vaguely visible and unstable.  The visual
distortion is as if you were looking  down at your hands submerged in a
running stream.  You bring your hands to your face to feel what it is
like,
and find the sensation diquieting.  You can feel your own touch, but it
does
not feel like you think it should.

Stretching forth your  thoughts, you mentally 'touch'  the cool surface of
the statue,
finding its lifeless form repellent. Thoughts without a soul. A mind
without
blood.You gaze at the statue with a growing sence of revulsion, but
eventually
overcome the desire to flee and ask a few questions.

"This is very interesting, mr Statue. But please tell me, what is
the purpose of my presence here, since I don't have a clue myself about
why
I'm here?

The statue responds, "I know you not.  But I have seen many like you
appear,
and then leave."

And what am I supposed to do?

The statue responds, " "Your purpose?  I do not know what purpose you have
here, if any.  If I were you, I think I would leave this place and return
to
whereever it was you were before you came here.  But I really do not think
that is possible."

"Are all the residents here dead?"

The statue responds, "Dead?  Interesting idea.  But that would mean this
place was the afterlife.  Well, I guess that is possible, although I still
prefer to think of this place as less eternal than Heaven or Hell.  I
still
like to think of it as a well developed corner of cyberspace."

"What is your name?"

The statue responds, "If I had one before I got here, I do not remember
it.
And since I awoke in this spot, I have been called many things.  But since
I
am the only permanent resident of this little spot, names have lost there
importance.  In a brief time you will either have moved on or been
destroyed,
and it won't matter that you had a name for me, or that I ever knew your
names."

"What has awakened me?"

The statue responds, "Can't answer that one, but everybody seems to wake
up
with a blank memory when they hit this place."

"What is this place, homonculous?"

The statue responds, "I have come to call it home."

"Tell me who has summoned me."

The statue responds, "If you were summoned I do not know by who.  But
perhaps
that is a good way to put it."

The statue continues," I am tired.  Talking is not easy.  I guess my last
word of advice is to get out of this spot if you can.  If a Spectre comes
and
finds you here....  Well, take my word for it.  It ain't pretty."  The
statues eyes grow dim, and the lids close.

Finaly you approach the dread apparition in order to examine the pedastle.
It seems nondescript, but at its base in the grass you find:
a small hand shovel
a length if silk cord
a tear drop shaped piece of ivory.

---------------END TURN TWO------------------------------

What are y'all gonna do now?

PBEM@aol.com

References

Wanna play DARKWORLD?
pbem@aol.com (PBEM)
Tue, 15 Aug 1995 00:00:00 +0000