Part 32: Day Two- Page 32

This hidden little shop. It calls to Miranda for some strange reason.

>enter shop
A silvery bell jingles as you open the door.

The Cauldron
A warm and pleasantly dim light surrounds you and suffuses this cozy little shop. The shelves are crammed with every conceivable variety of new age curiosity: books, crystals, pendants, charms, herbs, potions, incense, candles and -- sure enough, on a display stand right near the door -- decorative cast-iron cauldron-shaped paperweights. How cute. In the rear of the store, a lit display case contains several items of interest. The courtyard lies outside, to the north.

On the display case is a violin.

The proprietor watches you quietly from behind the display case.

>look at bell
You can't see any such thing.
Bullshit! A bell rung when I entered! Keep it together, game!

Also, cute little paperweights!

>look at paperweight
Mostly a lot of hokey, pseudo-spiritualist knick-knacks. Junk, really. Tourist souvenirs.

>look at man
A fabulously thick and bushy tangle of moustache, beard and eyebrows frame the portly old proprietor's deeply seamed face. His eyes are kind, however, and his smile warm and ingenuous, and he seems content to watch you quietly with his hands folded across his considerable paunch as you browse through his shop.

>ask man about cauldrons
The proprietor beams proudly. "All merchandise is guaranteed authentic. We cannot be held responsible for the effects of any enlightened states of consciousness achieved through the use of our products. Thank you for shopping at the Cauldron."

Sounds like he's been doing this for a long time.

>look at violin
It's a gorgeous instrument -- the wood is a rich, polished mahogany, the scroll and fingerboard gleaming ebony. The strings almost seem to vibrate of their own accord, as if aching to be played.

>ask proprietor about violin
"Oh, that was a gift," he says. His eyes are far away and sad for a moment. "A gift from a very old friend."

Anyone's guess if it was the Proprietor playing that music outside.

>look at case
The display case has a glass front and sliding doors in back that allow the proprietor to reach inside. Lined up inside it are a deck of tarot cards, a geode and an amulet. Resting on top of the case is a violin.

We'll cover everything in the display case, but first, this guy is the only other person in Achorhead, other than Michael, that is actually sociable.

>ask man about himself
"Me? Oh, I'm just a harmless old shopkeeper, a lesser charlatan. I've had this place for... quite a while." The shopkeeper smiles at you in a way that is not entirely comforting. "I sell my little goods, and generally try to keep an eye on things."

>ask man about shop
The proprietor beams proudly. "All merchandise is guaranteed authentic. We cannot be held responsible for the effects of any enlightened states of consciousness achieved through the use of our products. Thank you for shopping at the Cauldron."

Weren't there Tarot cards?

>ask man about tarot
"Mmm, yes, a rare piece of work. The cards are actually very delicate, thinly sliced ivory. Almost transparent. The box is walnut." He leans toward you, offering you a salesman's conspiratorial wink. "They say," he whispers, "that this very deck was used and endorsed by the infamous medium -- " he frowns. "Not Blavatski; the other one. What was her name? Anyway, it is said that by shining a light through the cards and projecting the image onto a wall, you may open gateways to other worlds. Frankly, I don't buy it."

>look at tarot
A beautiful set of cards in a velvet-lined box. The top card, "The Tower", has been turned up, allowing you to see the exquisitely detailed artwork. In this representation, the tower has been painted to resemble a lighthouse, broken by a bolt of lightning emanating from a great, red-rimmed eye. Two figures, a man and a woman, tumble from the tower's summit, cast lifelessly into the sea.

"Feel free to browse as much as you like," the proprietor says amiably.

Well THAT wasn't foreboding foreshadowing at all. Thanks for that, game.

>look at geode
A hemisphere of rough, gray stone, about the size and shape of a halved cantaloupe. Its center is a glittering cavity of violet crystals, thousands of sparkling, faceted stalactites and stalagmites inside a cave of colored glass.

>ask proprietor about geode
"Nice, isn't it?" beams the proprietor. "I chanced upon it while rock-hunting in the Cascades last summer."

>look at amulet
It's an unassuming silver pendant hanging from a thin leather thong, fashioned in the shape of a tiny, upturned hand with a triangle inscribed within the palm. It reminds you a little of one of those cast pewter game pieces from Monopoly.

That reminds me...


Good ideas. Maybe he knows something about William?

>show man locket
The proprietor nods his head in approval. "My compliments, miss. You have excellent taste." he says.

>open locket
You open the silver locket, revealing a boy's picture.

>show man boy's picture
The proprietor nods his head in approval. "My compliments, miss. You have excellent taste." he says.

Shoot.

>close locket
You close the silver locket.

>ask man about verlac
(the Verlac family)
The proprietor takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment before replying. "Now there," he says slowly, "is a family from which no good ever came, nor will it ever. They're a sticky-tendriled bunch, Miss, and don't forget it; mind you don't get caught, and drawn in."

Yeah, no. It was too late for that before Miranda got to town.

>tell man about michael
"I guessed that you were married; you had a certain look about you," he says triumphantly. Suddenly he gives you a serious look and pitches his voice low. "He is headed for some dark times, Miss; he'll need all the help you can give him!"

The proprietor pulls a rag from his back pocket and polishes the top of the display case.

>ask man about edward
"A terrible tragedy. He visited my shop once, you know. Sold me a trinket. A nice young man, I recall, but troubled." The proprietor heaves a heavy sigh. "He tried, but he simply wasn't strong enough. He did try, though."

>Ask man about William
The proprietor looks sad. "A coffin that won't stay buried, a skeleton without a grave. Not his fault, not his fault." He looks away and will say no more.

Jeez. Well, while we're being macabre about things.

>show man skull
(first taking the animal's skull)
The proprietor looks the animal's skull over carefully, then hands it back to you. "Fascinating," he says, nodding. "Truly fascinating."

Alas. This seems to be his default answer to showing random crap.

>put skull in coat
You slip the animal's skull into the pocket of your trenchcoat.

>show flute to proprietor
(the strange metal flute to the proprietor)
(first taking the strange metal flute)
The proprietor looks the strange metal flute over carefully, then hands it back to you. "Fascinating," he says, nodding. "Truly fascinating."

>ask man about flute
You can't think of anything to say about that for the moment.

>put flute in coat
(the strange metal flute in the trenchcoat)
You slip the strange metal flute into the pocket of your trenchcoat.

Maybe he know something about the different Verlacs. Let's start at the beginning.

>Ask man about Croseus
With surprising grace, the proprietor reaches across the display case and places his callused finger lightly across your lips. "Shh, Miss," he whispers. "Best not speak the devil's name, lest he overhear and answer."

>ask proprietor about puzzle box
"Yes, frightfully difficult things, aren't they?" laughs the proprietor. "But quite fun. If you're good at them. I've got rather a knack, myself."


>show man puzzle box
(first taking the puzzle box)


The proprietor takes the puzzle box and turns it over in his hands carefully. "Now, this is a tricky one," he says. "They don't make them like this anymore. Frightfully difficult, unless you know the catch of course." His fingers flicker dexterously over the box, sliding a panel here, pressing a corner in there. Suddenly the lid pops open with a faint snick.

He places the box on top of the display case. "And there you have it," he says. "A present for you."

Your score has just gone up by two points.

Oh. Wow! Thank you, Mr. Shopkeep!

>look in box
Which do you mean, the puzzle box, the deck of tarot cards or the jewelry box?

>puzzle
In the puzzle box is a strange black disk.

>look at disk
It's a dark, glassy circle, about the width of your hand in diameter and half an inch thick in the middle, tapering off to thinness toward the edge like a convex lens. Its color is the deep, oily black of obsidian, though you fancy you can see faint swirls of color inside it like the rainbow sheen of oil on water. Its curved surface is cool and perfectly smooth. Although incredibly hard, the material does not feel like stone; there is an odd, yielding quality to it, almost like something organic... almost, you realize with disquiet, like skin.

Not at all what Miranda thought it would be.

>take disk
Taken.

>put lens in coat
You slip the strange black disk into the pocket of your trenchcoat.

>put puzzle box in coat
(first taking the puzzle box)
You slip the puzzle box into the pocket of your trenchcoat.

I wonder if he also knows anything about Jeffrey Greer. We may be able to help that woman Miranda terrorized in the Shanty Town.

>ask man about greer
The old proprietor's eyes grow sad. "The poor boy. The poor, poor boy. We can only pray that there is enough time." And he gives you a strange, penetrating look.

(Sidenote: I'd never thought to ask him about Greer before. I'm surprised the author put this in)

>ask man about asylum
The old man smiles and shrugs. "Can't tell you much about that, I'm afraid."

>ask man about anchorhead
"It's hard, I know, uprooting yourself and coming to a strange place." He fixes you with a knowing look. "And this is, indeed, a strange place. But I think you'll do right by yourself -- and your husband -- as long as you keep your wits about."

Much converse. Very wow. So nice man.

>look at amulet
It's an unassuming silver pendant hanging from a thin leather thong, fashioned in the shape of a tiny, upturned hand with a triangle inscribed within the palm. It reminds you a little of one of those cast pewter game pieces from Monopoly.

>ask man about amulet
"Now there's a fancy little thing," remarks the proprietor. "A humble charm against evil. A ward against the Eye, you might say. Young chap brought that in some twenty years ago, said he had no more use for superstitious baubles."

The proprietor reaches in through the back of the case and takes out the amulet. It spins slowly as he holds it up to the light.


"I think, perhaps, that he eventually found different. And I think, perhaps, that you will, too." He leans forward and, before you can react, slips the leather thong around your neck. "But you won't make the same mistake, will you, Miss? No. You go on and keep that, now. My treat. You may find it useful soon."

Your score has just gone up by five points.

For the first time in town, rather than stealing and ferreting away items, someone actually GAVE Miranda a gift!
The tears are real!

>thank proprietor
That's not a verb I recognise.

>north
The old man waves as you leave. "Come back soon," he calls.

Hidden Court

>

So, apparently the town changes slightly from day to day, which means we can check places we've already been and see what's new, or we can look at the last place we haven't explored yet, South of Verlac Manor.

What do you guys think? Choose in Bold, please.

Items


In Trenchcoat