||zero concentration =
Joined: Aug 29, 2006
|Posted: 15-07-2013 21:55  |
You are standing on a short flight of steps leading from an overgrown area of paving at the west up to a covered gallery to the east. The
steps are cracked and pitted with age, although the scene is still, and feels almost remote. Northwards lies a tangle of thorns in what
was once a garden, and the whole area is surrounded by a forest of disturbingly swaying trees.
north: Overgrown garden.
south: Inside grandfather clock.
west: Paved yard.
southwest: Inside grandfather clock.
northwest: Overgrown garden.
down: Inside grandfather clock.
in: Inside grandfather clock.
out: Inside grandfather clock.
over: Inside grandfather clock.
1 in the place known as "loggia".
This pillared gallery, its flat roof high above you, is all that remains intact of a classical building long since abandoned. The ruins
lie to the north, and steps to the west lead down to a paved yard. Growing right up against the loggia to the south and east is a forest
of tall trees, which seems determined to swallow this remaining structure and reclaim the whole clearing as its own. Gazing in your
direction is a slow, pavonine-skinned basilisk.
You catch one glance of the basilisk, and suddenly feel rooted to the spot. Your joints seem to seize up and freeze in place, and you feel
a penetrating coldness creeping through you. All too late, you realise in horror that you are turning to stone! Seconds later the
irreversible process is complete.
(Persona saved on -3,247 = 103,751).
Joined: Sep 15, 2017
|Posted: 01-06-2018 11:17  |
Hello, my name is Johneydeep. In case it is not obvious, I am a spamming muppet. Sorry about that.
[ This Message was edited by: Hawumph on 08-06-2018 17:10 ]