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xyzzysqrlNancy: "Okay, when we left off, I'd just ..."
George: "...mmf?"
Bess: "...Nancy? It's like three in the morning. Why are you in our bedroom?"
Nancy: "I just thought I'd pick up that story where I left off before it got too early in the morning."
Bess: "This defines too early in the morning, Nancy."
Nancy: "Oh. Okay, I'll wait around until it's later then!"
-TWO HOURS LATER-
Nancy: "Okay, so..."
Bess: "No, Nancy."
-FOUR HOURS AFTER THAT-
Nancy: "So I had just called my father..."
George: "Just let her talk, Bess. We can't escape, she's blocking the door."
Backing away from the pay phone, I note that there's a little drawing of a cat next to the inn door. Huh! Hobo Code for "A kind lady lives here". I wonder if that means Emily, her deceased mother, or possibly Jane?
Speaking of Jane, let's check in with Planet Flapper Girl, shall we? Jane is shocked, SHOCKED to hear that while everyone was scrambling around, someone stole Emily's jewlery. "HYPERS!" she exclaims, and I nearly spit-take. "If you can't trust firemen, who can ya trust?" She also explains that the Bard Bounce game was just left there by Josiah one day. Apparently he just wheeled it in, set it in the corner, and left it there.
I'm starting to get the impression that Josiah Crowley was a weirdo, you guys. In any event I leave Jane musing over whether she could call the police and truck back on upstairs to see if there's any puzzle action I missed up there. Let's see. Emily's still huddled cozily in her window seat, Nancy won't go near Emily's mirror for fear we might gaze upon her true image and be enraptured, and ... Ah, hello. Emily has a phonograph player in her room. I plunk the record on the turntable and crank some swingin' tunes yo.
That's the plan, anyway. What the record actually contains is a WTF-inducing radio play about a young man named Peter who must face his archenemy, Nick. Nick can transform himself into a murderous giant were-warthog. Peter bursts into Nick's cabin while Nick is "smirking maliciously and recalling his recent porcine exploits" and demands the return of twenty gold coins, recently stolen from a servant of his. Nick sneers that the only thing Peter will taste is his BLADE. Then there's some grunting and huffing, and some metal-clinking effects.
"Ouch!" Nick declares. "You! Have WOUNDED! ME!"
"I had wounded him!" Peter agrees. "On his right arm. Just above the elbow."
Peter demands his money again, and Nick throws a bag at him.
"Alas, while I was counting the coins, my nemesis reached for his bottle of warthog potion, and in a matter of seconds my night began to transform... from bad... to HORRIBLE."
Okay you guys I actually feel dumber for having listened to that. Although I'm now imagining Future-Nancy giving a dramatic re-enactment to Bess and George and the mental image is -wonderful-. ANYWAY LET'S MOVE ON.
Let's see. On Emily's bed is a copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, translated by Edward FitzGerald. This is a real thing and it's actually pretty decent if you get one of the lavishly illustrated volumes. (This is the famous poem from which the "A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou beside me" quote is frequently lifted and mangled, for example.)
This edition has a note from, YES, JOSIAH CROWLEY in the front about how Emily should totally read these because he'll be her favorite poet one day. There's practically a "HINT HINT NUDGE NUDGE" after the text. Nancy seems to flip through at random, but I trust that the pages she turns to are what I'll need, so I've reproduced them here.
XXVII
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same Door as in I went.
XXVIII
With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with my own hand labour'd it to grow:
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd---
"I came like Water, and like Wind I go."
XLVII
When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last,
Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.
XLVIII
A Moment's Halt — a momentary taste
Of Being from the Well amid the Waste —
And Lo! — the phantom Caravan has reach'd
The Nothing it set out from — Oh, make haste!
LXIII
Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain — This Life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
LXIV
Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.
Why do I have the feeling that there's going to be a quiz on all this stuff later? Also, this is actually... -pretty morbid poetry- for a girl to ponder when not only the person who gave her the book but her own mother are both recently dead.
No wonder Emily looks like this all the time lately.
Uhm. Anyway. There's also a sewing machine. Nancy asks about it, but Emily just admits she has no idea how to sew. Her mother was going to teach her. Before she died.
Let's get out of here. Like, now. It got REAL DARK in here all of a sudden. I wanna go walk around in the sunshine.
All right, time to start exploring the Inn grounds. Out past the porch there's a little path, and further up along the path is a bridge. I head across that, still pondering the Rubiyat, when there's a sudden gust of wind and a piece of paper floats past. It takes me three or four quick frantic clicks to catch it, but here's what it says:
Hmm. Someone had a key appraised at the jewlery store. Interesting. Clearly I'll have to follow up on that. As a matter of fact, let's pause before we get deep in the exploration of the grounds and drive out to see what's up with that. I wanted to stop by the bank again anyway and try something a friend suggested. Nancy turns with this new clue in hand and sprints back to her car.
At the store the clerk recognizes the receipt at once. That "cheapskate" Jim Archer came in to get the key appraised. It was all covered with fake jewels and stuff. When it turned out to be worthless, Archer left the key and stalked off without paying the appraisal fee. Nancy of course pulls out the $1.50 and trade it for the key. Now, let's stop by the bank...
First off at the bank, just in case, I flip the typewriter ribbon back up and transcribe out all the capitalized letters. Just in case.
ORDMSSHITEPSIYFJAC
...Hm. Doesn't look like anything to me. A friend of mine suggested it could be meaningful to check on the doubled and capitalized letters, but sadly that's a hunch that didn't pay off. Oh well. I'm glad of suggestions like that just the same, you folk! Playing this sort of adventure game always works best with someone looking over your shoulder and suggesting ideas, and in this case, THE INTERNET is looking over MY shoulder. Yay for the Internet! Someday I will get stuck and you will be helpful.
I turn to Mr. Archer, to ask him about the key. Instead he curiously asks if Nancy is Carson Drew's daughter. Guilty as charged. Well, that's something. Carson Drew's business is doing fine, isn't it? They went to law school together. Maybe Mr. Archer should've stayed in law school. Maybe then Mr. Archer wouldn't be riding a bank down in flames.
Okay he doesn't actually say that but his tone of voice -seriously- suggests it.
Anyway, yeah, the key might be for the clock. Nancy can have the key. Heck, she can have the clock too. Nancy promptly sticks the key in the clock and HEY it opens.
Nancy: "And that's how I learned clock repair."
This puzzle has something of a cheat built in, in that the correct gear "locks" on a peg and can't be taken off anymore when you put it in the right place. Accordingly, if I put a gear on a peg and then found I could move it around still, it was in the wrong place. Brute force kinda won the day here. Even if I hadn't noticed that though, there's a second way to solve this puzzle. Each of the gears has two lines on them (except for two that only have one line, which are the 'start' and 'end' gears of the system) and those lines each point towards other pegs. Line them up right with the closest pegs and... hey, puzzle solved.
With that puzzle sussed out, the ball on the top of Mr. Archer's clock starts to rotate, then folds open to reveal... a second mirror!
"The Secret Of Why Is Crowley Giving Us All These Mirrors?" might be too long to fit on the box BUT IT IS WHAT I AM THINKING RIGHT NOW.
Back to the Inn. Across the short, arched wooden bridge is a -second- long and flat wooden bridge, and across that is a THIRD bridge, this time made of stone. What, did the Three Little Pigs live here first? Across the stone bridge is a small house with a barn alongside it. I assume someone will be in the house and I kind of want to avoid awkward "why are you walking into my house?" conversations, so I hook left and head for the barn.
What do you mean, "Is there a puzzle to get into the barn?" Of course there is. There's four large dials on the barn door, and when you turn them letters are displayed on a panel below. I twiddle them around for a bit, then decide to move on. Okay, to the house it is.
Opening the door reveals a white-haired figure making Mystical I'm A Wizard gestures over his desktop. "Good evening, Miss Drew." he -intones-. (It's the only word for it.) "Grab that toy mouse... I believe it's... by the table ... and give it to my cat Uri. He dislikes strangers."
Uri looks like he doesn't dislike -strangers- so much as he dislikes -the agony of existing-.
Seriously, get this poor cat some fucking prozac. I give him a squeaky mouse instead. Keep your heart strong, Uri.
Sigh. Anyway, on to talk to Mr. Topham, for it is he. He dresses and looks sort of like the Amazing Criswell and comes off as about as reputable. He explains that rather than pretending to be a wizard, he was attempting to focus his psychic eminations into a single point of phantasmic energy to assail and transform the molecular force field surrounding a set of spoons, thus enabling him to move them with only his mind.
I swear to god I made none of that up.
Nancy gently turns down his offer of instruction and steers the conversation towards Mr. Crowley. Topham sniffs. He can't discuss the matter. You see, he's found that any time he spends in the company of those less endowed than himself leads to a diminishing of his own cerebral pulsations. I idly experiment to see if the interface has a punch button that I've just missed all this time. He proposes a test of Nancy's eminations and hands her a book of logic puzzles. If she can solve these, she is endowed enough to speak with him.
Funny, I feel the inexplicable urge to take a break here, maybe grab a sandwich, and leave the comments section temptingly wide open. Maybe some answers will PSYCHICALLY APPEAR in Nancy's head somehow!
George: "...mmf?"
Bess: "...Nancy? It's like three in the morning. Why are you in our bedroom?"
Nancy: "I just thought I'd pick up that story where I left off before it got too early in the morning."
Bess: "This defines too early in the morning, Nancy."
Nancy: "Oh. Okay, I'll wait around until it's later then!"
-TWO HOURS LATER-
Nancy: "Okay, so..."
Bess: "No, Nancy."
-FOUR HOURS AFTER THAT-
Nancy: "So I had just called my father..."
George: "Just let her talk, Bess. We can't escape, she's blocking the door."
Backing away from the pay phone, I note that there's a little drawing of a cat next to the inn door. Huh! Hobo Code for "A kind lady lives here". I wonder if that means Emily, her deceased mother, or possibly Jane?
Speaking of Jane, let's check in with Planet Flapper Girl, shall we? Jane is shocked, SHOCKED to hear that while everyone was scrambling around, someone stole Emily's jewlery. "HYPERS!" she exclaims, and I nearly spit-take. "If you can't trust firemen, who can ya trust?" She also explains that the Bard Bounce game was just left there by Josiah one day. Apparently he just wheeled it in, set it in the corner, and left it there.
I'm starting to get the impression that Josiah Crowley was a weirdo, you guys. In any event I leave Jane musing over whether she could call the police and truck back on upstairs to see if there's any puzzle action I missed up there. Let's see. Emily's still huddled cozily in her window seat, Nancy won't go near Emily's mirror for fear we might gaze upon her true image and be enraptured, and ... Ah, hello. Emily has a phonograph player in her room. I plunk the record on the turntable and crank some swingin' tunes yo.
That's the plan, anyway. What the record actually contains is a WTF-inducing radio play about a young man named Peter who must face his archenemy, Nick. Nick can transform himself into a murderous giant were-warthog. Peter bursts into Nick's cabin while Nick is "smirking maliciously and recalling his recent porcine exploits" and demands the return of twenty gold coins, recently stolen from a servant of his. Nick sneers that the only thing Peter will taste is his BLADE. Then there's some grunting and huffing, and some metal-clinking effects.
"Ouch!" Nick declares. "You! Have WOUNDED! ME!"
"I had wounded him!" Peter agrees. "On his right arm. Just above the elbow."
Peter demands his money again, and Nick throws a bag at him.
"Alas, while I was counting the coins, my nemesis reached for his bottle of warthog potion, and in a matter of seconds my night began to transform... from bad... to HORRIBLE."
Okay you guys I actually feel dumber for having listened to that. Although I'm now imagining Future-Nancy giving a dramatic re-enactment to Bess and George and the mental image is -wonderful-. ANYWAY LET'S MOVE ON.
Let's see. On Emily's bed is a copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, translated by Edward FitzGerald. This is a real thing and it's actually pretty decent if you get one of the lavishly illustrated volumes. (This is the famous poem from which the "A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou beside me" quote is frequently lifted and mangled, for example.)
This edition has a note from, YES, JOSIAH CROWLEY in the front about how Emily should totally read these because he'll be her favorite poet one day. There's practically a "HINT HINT NUDGE NUDGE" after the text. Nancy seems to flip through at random, but I trust that the pages she turns to are what I'll need, so I've reproduced them here.
XXVII
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same Door as in I went.
XXVIII
With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with my own hand labour'd it to grow:
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd---
"I came like Water, and like Wind I go."
XLVII
When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last,
Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.
XLVIII
A Moment's Halt — a momentary taste
Of Being from the Well amid the Waste —
And Lo! — the phantom Caravan has reach'd
The Nothing it set out from — Oh, make haste!
LXIII
Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain — This Life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
LXIV
Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.
Why do I have the feeling that there's going to be a quiz on all this stuff later? Also, this is actually... -pretty morbid poetry- for a girl to ponder when not only the person who gave her the book but her own mother are both recently dead.
No wonder Emily looks like this all the time lately.
Uhm. Anyway. There's also a sewing machine. Nancy asks about it, but Emily just admits she has no idea how to sew. Her mother was going to teach her. Before she died.
Let's get out of here. Like, now. It got REAL DARK in here all of a sudden. I wanna go walk around in the sunshine.
All right, time to start exploring the Inn grounds. Out past the porch there's a little path, and further up along the path is a bridge. I head across that, still pondering the Rubiyat, when there's a sudden gust of wind and a piece of paper floats past. It takes me three or four quick frantic clicks to catch it, but here's what it says:
Hmm. Someone had a key appraised at the jewlery store. Interesting. Clearly I'll have to follow up on that. As a matter of fact, let's pause before we get deep in the exploration of the grounds and drive out to see what's up with that. I wanted to stop by the bank again anyway and try something a friend suggested. Nancy turns with this new clue in hand and sprints back to her car.
At the store the clerk recognizes the receipt at once. That "cheapskate" Jim Archer came in to get the key appraised. It was all covered with fake jewels and stuff. When it turned out to be worthless, Archer left the key and stalked off without paying the appraisal fee. Nancy of course pulls out the $1.50 and trade it for the key. Now, let's stop by the bank...
First off at the bank, just in case, I flip the typewriter ribbon back up and transcribe out all the capitalized letters. Just in case.
ORDMSSHITEPSIYFJAC
...Hm. Doesn't look like anything to me. A friend of mine suggested it could be meaningful to check on the doubled and capitalized letters, but sadly that's a hunch that didn't pay off. Oh well. I'm glad of suggestions like that just the same, you folk! Playing this sort of adventure game always works best with someone looking over your shoulder and suggesting ideas, and in this case, THE INTERNET is looking over MY shoulder. Yay for the Internet! Someday I will get stuck and you will be helpful.
I turn to Mr. Archer, to ask him about the key. Instead he curiously asks if Nancy is Carson Drew's daughter. Guilty as charged. Well, that's something. Carson Drew's business is doing fine, isn't it? They went to law school together. Maybe Mr. Archer should've stayed in law school. Maybe then Mr. Archer wouldn't be riding a bank down in flames.
Okay he doesn't actually say that but his tone of voice -seriously- suggests it.
Anyway, yeah, the key might be for the clock. Nancy can have the key. Heck, she can have the clock too. Nancy promptly sticks the key in the clock and HEY it opens.
Nancy: "And that's how I learned clock repair."
This puzzle has something of a cheat built in, in that the correct gear "locks" on a peg and can't be taken off anymore when you put it in the right place. Accordingly, if I put a gear on a peg and then found I could move it around still, it was in the wrong place. Brute force kinda won the day here. Even if I hadn't noticed that though, there's a second way to solve this puzzle. Each of the gears has two lines on them (except for two that only have one line, which are the 'start' and 'end' gears of the system) and those lines each point towards other pegs. Line them up right with the closest pegs and... hey, puzzle solved.
With that puzzle sussed out, the ball on the top of Mr. Archer's clock starts to rotate, then folds open to reveal... a second mirror!
"The Secret Of Why Is Crowley Giving Us All These Mirrors?" might be too long to fit on the box BUT IT IS WHAT I AM THINKING RIGHT NOW.
Back to the Inn. Across the short, arched wooden bridge is a -second- long and flat wooden bridge, and across that is a THIRD bridge, this time made of stone. What, did the Three Little Pigs live here first? Across the stone bridge is a small house with a barn alongside it. I assume someone will be in the house and I kind of want to avoid awkward "why are you walking into my house?" conversations, so I hook left and head for the barn.
What do you mean, "Is there a puzzle to get into the barn?" Of course there is. There's four large dials on the barn door, and when you turn them letters are displayed on a panel below. I twiddle them around for a bit, then decide to move on. Okay, to the house it is.
Opening the door reveals a white-haired figure making Mystical I'm A Wizard gestures over his desktop. "Good evening, Miss Drew." he -intones-. (It's the only word for it.) "Grab that toy mouse... I believe it's... by the table ... and give it to my cat Uri. He dislikes strangers."
Uri looks like he doesn't dislike -strangers- so much as he dislikes -the agony of existing-.
Seriously, get this poor cat some fucking prozac. I give him a squeaky mouse instead. Keep your heart strong, Uri.
Sigh. Anyway, on to talk to Mr. Topham, for it is he. He dresses and looks sort of like the Amazing Criswell and comes off as about as reputable. He explains that rather than pretending to be a wizard, he was attempting to focus his psychic eminations into a single point of phantasmic energy to assail and transform the molecular force field surrounding a set of spoons, thus enabling him to move them with only his mind.
I swear to god I made none of that up.
Nancy gently turns down his offer of instruction and steers the conversation towards Mr. Crowley. Topham sniffs. He can't discuss the matter. You see, he's found that any time he spends in the company of those less endowed than himself leads to a diminishing of his own cerebral pulsations. I idly experiment to see if the interface has a punch button that I've just missed all this time. He proposes a test of Nancy's eminations and hands her a book of logic puzzles. If she can solve these, she is endowed enough to speak with him.
Funny, I feel the inexplicable urge to take a break here, maybe grab a sandwich, and leave the comments section temptingly wide open. Maybe some answers will PSYCHICALLY APPEAR in Nancy's head somehow!
