London, England May 26, 1897 {(set: $reason to (random:1,4))(set: $guilt to (random:1,4))(set: $savagery to (random:1,4)) (set: $firstname to (either: "Silas","Abraham","Hortense","Cecily","Quentin","Percival","Karl","Albert","Horatio","Victoria","Daphne","Persephone","June","Noreen","Roger","Lachlan","Kate","Mary","Edwina","Godfrey","Hermione","Harold","Isaac","Abigail","Esther","Judith","Gideon","Solomon","Bedelia","Gerhardt","Ludwig","Otto","Tobias","Agnes","Alberta","Anselm","Astrid","Barnabas","Benedict","Bianca","Bruno","Cassandra","Kristoph","Dagmar","Dominique","Elke","Francesca","Ferdinand","George","Arno","Jude","Madeleine","Marco","Maurice","Spenser","Roberta","Vernon","Boniface","Caroline","Kaspar","Charlotte","Dorothy","Emily","Esme","Fabian","Gabrielle","Gertrude","Henrietta","Jolanda","Lisbeth","Marjolaine","Melchior","Petronella","Theodore","Rosalie","Rudolph","Gloria","Ignatz","Hugo","Hieronymus","Hildegard","Ermintrude","Immanuel","Ingrid","Joachim","Josephine","Prudence","Seamus","Constance","Boyd","Nevil","Montgomery","Charlie","Bjorn","Knut","Lorenzo","Beatrice","Violet","Portia","Leonora","Cormac","Frances","Horace","Hortense","Lawrence","Priscilla","Rupert","Erasmus","Ajax","Abel","Balthazar","Jasper","Eugene","Barnabas","Titus","Ambrose")) (set: $lastname to (either:"Augustine","Ashmole","O'Toole","O'Leary","O'Houlihan","O'Shaughnessy","Beardsley","Benbow","Blackburn","Braithwaite","Carpenter","Chancellor","Constantine","Drumm","Drake","Desjardins","Fitzroy","Fletcher","Frost","Haggard","Hancock","Hobbes","Hightower","Hathaway","Griffin","Gibbs","Gardner","Ketch","Marlowe","Norris","Sloane","Owlsbury","Parish","Peacock","Peck","Peabody","Quincey","Radclyffe","Reynolds","Savage","Scarlett","Scrivener","Seabrooke","Sexton","Sinclair","Snyder","Spalding","Spooner","Steele","St. John","Stroud","Sweeney","Teach","Thorne","Tittensor","Tinker","Tiptree","Valentine","Wakefield","Waldrop","Young","Mason","Morse","McCracken","McKensie","McNab","McFarlane","McQueen","Ogden","Carmody","Flanagan","Driscoll","Eckhart","Gottschalk","Grieg","Gunnarsen","Horowitz","Jaeger","Katz","Kampf","Marquardt","Mendelsohn","Morgenstern","Nussenbaum","Ohme","Rosenberg","Schmidt","Spitznogle","Skovgaard","Svendsen","von Grimmelshausen","von Ulrich","Waldvogel","Wagner","Waxweiler","Waltz","de Vroome","van Schoorl","van Alphen","van Middelsburg","van Tonder","Zimmelmann")) (set: $description to (either:"emaciated","fat","nervous","courageous","brilliant","elderly","pompous","callous","dour","quick-witted","dying","arrogant","pale","deformed","piebald","deaf","blind","mute","muscular","pious","irreverent","slothful","miserable","buffoonish","ingenious","lecherous","sinister","wise","lonely","sanguine","choleric","phlegmatic","melancholy","handsome","hideous","penniless","romantic","practical","temperamental","dishonest","foolish","sharp-tongued","bitter","rascally","cunning","Jewish","foul-mouthed","vain","jealous","chaste","gluttonous","greedy","morose","syphilitic","scarred","perverted","meticulous","hunchbacked","shrewd","Irish","disinherited","demon","naive","cruel","silver-tongued","famous","infamous","notorious","slick","one-eyed","pockmarked","balding","hook-nosed","oily","dry-witted","cold-hearted","hot-blooded","dull","respectable","prominent","disreputable","well-known","reclusive","miserly","vindictive","feather-brained","comical","cowardly","bold","sly","unfortunate","mad","Catholic","atheist","consumptive","hypocritical","puritanical","deplorable","gentleman","millionaire","apologetic")) (set: $profession to (either:"doctor","detective","constable","sailor","sergeant-major","ship's captain","priest","bishop","bureaucrat","naturalist","socialist","thief","engineer","librarian","banker","duchess","chimneysweep","tramp","blacksmith","greengrocer","barrister","solicitor","alienist","watchmaker","butler","convict","journalist","chambermaid","schoolmaster","groundskeeper","governess","politician","industrialist","playwright","beggar","poet","fisherman","miner","train conductor","baron","orphan","street urchin","magistrate","barber","beggar","painter","highwayman","moneylender","debutante","archaeologist","safecracker","cat burglar","slumlord","merchant seaman","horse breeder","butcher","cricketer","dandy","Freemason","scholar","actor","courtesan","spy","hangman","schoolboy","beau","novelist")) (set: $tragedy to (either:"murdered","abducted","tortured","butchered","seduced","exsanguinated","ate","fell in love with","strangled","drowned","disembowelled","hypnotized","entombed","married","beheaded","deceived","humiliated","robbed","impaled","gutted","flayed","stalked","kissed","romanced","shaved","blinded","removed the tongue of","cut out the heart of","lobomotized","imprisoned","executed","falsely accused","financially ruined","enslaved","stole the fortune of","destroyed the life's work of","bullied","set fire to","cut the legs off","shot","taunted","made you kill","set a deadly trap for","danced with","boiled","mutilated","tarred and feathered","bit","betrayed","destroyed the sanity of","tore out the throat of","kicked","crushed","smothered","crippled","hamstrung","disfigured","broke the back of","made soup out of","pulled out the teeth of","reanimated","abandoned","slaughtered","beat","wore the skin of","minced","bisected","horsewhipped","devoured","liquefied","attacked","chased","cursed","infected","hanged","deboned","poisoned","starved","became","eloped with","squashed","bathed in the blood of")) (set: $victim to (either:"mother","father","sister","brother","husband","wife","daughter","son","niece","nephew","uncle","aunt","grandmother","grandfather","granddaughter","grandson","mentor","protégé","master","closest friend","oldest friend","only friend","estranged wife","estranged husband","lover","paramour","sweetheart","one true love","cat","dog","downstairs neighbour","best client","heir","mistress","favourite teacher","favourite pupil","bastard son","bastard daughter","stepson","stepdaughter","stepfather","stepmother","son-in-law","daughter-in-law","father-in-law","mother-in-law","sister-in-law","brother-in-law","secret love","school chum","faithful sidekick","fiancé","fiancée","bride","groom","Latin tutor","editor","commanding officer","king","queen","twin","long-lost sibling","beloved assistant","rival","business partner","manservant","lifelong companion","secretary","cousin")) (set: $addendum to (either:"in a moment of rage","before you had the chance to","with an iron spike","in cold blood","before your very eyes","without blinking","and ran away","while smiling horribly","with their full consent","with an axe","in front of a cheering crowd","and bragged about it","with a straight razor","because he was bored","and refused to apologize","while drunk","on top of a moving train","and published a short story about it","and framed you for it","in an open grave","with his bare hands","by mistake","without thinking about how it would affect you","while staring you right in the eyes","in their own home","on their birthday","on Christmas","in a dark alley","in their private box at the opera","and desecrated the remains","at the stroke of midnight","when you least expected it","in church","before you could stop him","when you thought they were safe","to death","and made you watch","during the full moon","in a damp cellar","in a tin bathtub","in the British Library","on a rooftop","for his own amusement","without a sound","in the rain","on a sinking ship","on the Yorkshire moors","in the woods","on a mountaintop","on a beach at sunrise","and no-one believes you","on your wedding day","in broad daylight","and fed them to you","in Leicester Square","on the cliffs of Dover","at Stonehenge","and nobody told you","and you could have stopped him","while they begged for mercy","at gunpoint","in an art gallery","in the snow","with a pair of garden shears","in a hedge maze","and laughed about it","in a confession booth","in the lavatory","in the Diogenes Club","with a meat hook","and they went mad","in a lunatic asylum","in the Scottish highlands","with a pool cue","in a hot-air balloon","when you were only a child","while you slept","and nobody cared enough to stop him","and you had no chance to say goodbye","and their whole family","in the sewers","in a Spitalfields doss-house","in Bridewell Prison","with a kitchen knife","like a dog","with gleeful abandon","and threw them to the wolves","on the open road","in a burning cathedral","in a ruined castle","on a desolate island","in an elevator","by candlelight")) (set: $henchwoman to (either: "with red eyes","with no lips","who never smiles","with yellow eyes","with no nose","who never talks","who wears a mask","with no ears","who wears a veil","who isn't there","with crooked teeth","with a crooked scar","who snarls like a dog","who howls like a cat","who hisses like a snake","who chirps like an insect","who always smiles","with a wooden leg","with lace gloves","with six fingers","with blood-red lips","with cobwebs between her fingers","with one eye","with a snake tattoo","without enough skin","with too much skin","with blue lips","with scales on her neck","with warts on her knuckles","with hair on her palms","with too many fingernails","with miniature horns","with feathers for eyebrows","with the voice of an angel","with the voice of a toad","with a voice like nails on a chalkboard","who smells of lavender","who smells of smoke","who smells like a dung-hill","in white","in red","in grey","in black","with no hair","with white hair")) (set: $ship to (either: "Daedalus","Dominion","Demeter","Dolorous","Dragonfly","Derelict","Damnation","Divine Right","Duchess of Malfi","Dubious Provenance","Dove","Dog's Breakfast","Dandelion","Diana","Dryad","Drowned Rat","Dying Swan","Dostoevsky","Dying of the Light","Donkey's Years","Double Cross","Dick Whittington","Despair","Delirium","Deadly Nightshade","Dark Horse","Debonair","Dromon","David and Goliath","Desolation"))} You are $firstname $lastname, the $description $profession. Dracula $tragedy your $victim $addendum. You do not know what Dracula is. You only know that you hate him. You must find Dracula and kill him. You can pick up Dracula's trail at [[Waterloo Station|London - Waterloo Station]] or the [[Isle of Dogs|London - Isle of Dogs]]. Or you can become [[another person|London]].Waterloo Station London, England {(set: $pub1 to (either:"King's","Queen's","Beggar's","Red","Tin","Merry","White","Falling","Old","Yellow","Pickled","Jolly","Bloody","Ivory","Copper","Saucy","Flying","Lucky","Broken","Black","Wet","Lion and","Eagle and","Rose and","Anchor and","Pig and","Elephant and","Tooth and","Hare and","Shave and","Hammer and","Pound and","Moon and"," Knight and","Walrus and","Hand and","Gentleman and","Lamb and","Saint and","Lady of the","Belly of the","Hole in the","Message in the","Man in the")) (set: $pub2 to (either:"Head","Arms","Cup","Lion","Crown","Widow","Hart","Sparrow","Bell","Ribbon","Onion","Jester","Bishop","Castle","Kettle","Devil","Dutchman","Leopard","Drum","Goat","Dog","Unicorn","Child","Compass","Chain","Whistle","Wheelbarrow","Nail","Tortoise","Haircut","Tongs","Sixpence","Sun","Dragon","Carpenter","Glove","Scholar","Wrestler","Sinner","Evening","Whale","Wall","Bottle","Moon"))} You learn from a porter that a train pulled in last night, and a crate was offloaded, at the one station in London where there are no passengers and cargo is never supposed to arrive. The station-master's locked in her office. The driver's sipping gin in a nearby pub called the $pub1 $pub2. - (click: "one station")[An Orthodox family is holding a memorial service in a waiting-room, lilies provided at no extra charge by the London Necropolis Company. When they're finished, the carcass of their patriarch will be shipped direct to the grand cemetery in [[Surrey]].] - (click: "station-master")[She won't answer, no matter how you long you bang on the door. You can't tell if she's [[alive|London - Alive]] or [[dead|London - Dead]].] - (click: "driver")[She's reluctant to talk about her employment. You can [[thrash|London - Thrash]] her for answers or wait for her to pass out and go through her [[pockets|London - Pockets]].]The $pub1 $pub2 London, England {(set: $savagery to ($savagery + 1))} {(if: $savagery >= 4)[You set about the driver with your fists until her fear if you is greater than her fear of Dracula. "[[Liverpool]]," she mutters through bloodied lips. "He's gone to Liverpool. I must say no more. Beware the woman $henchwoman."] (if: $savagery <= 3)[The driver downs you with a single towering blow and returns, refreshed, to their gin. No leads there. You'd best investigate the [[station-master|London - Dead]].]}The $pub1 $pub2 London, England {(if: $reason >=3)[The words "szikla vár", scrawled on a shred of onionskin paper. Your Hungarian's rusty but you think it means something like "castle rock". If the driver picked this up from one of Dracula's assistants, it stands to reason they must be going to [[Edinburgh]].] (if: $reason <=2)[Nothing but a scrap of paper, covered with meaningless scribbles, and a single boiled sweet. You suck on the sweet and wonder what to do next. A [[drink|London - Drink]], perhaps.]} Liverpool, England {(set: $pub1 to (either:"King's","Queen's","Beggar's","Red","Tin","Merry","White","Falling","Old","Yellow","Pickled","Jolly","Bloody","Ivory","Copper","Saucy","Flying","Lucky","Broken","Black","Wet","Lion and","Eagle and","Rose and","Anchor and","Pig and","Elephant and","Tooth and","Hare and","Shave and","Hammer and","Pound and","Moon and"," Knight and","Walrus and","Hand and","Gentleman and","Lamb and","Saint and","Lady of the","Belly of the","Hole in the","Message in the","Man in the")) (set: $pub2 to (either:"Head","Arms","Cup","Lion","Crown","Widow","Hart","Sparrow","Bell","Ribbon","Onion","Jester","Bishop","Castle","Kettle","Devil","Dutchman","Leopard","Drum","Goat","Dog","Unicorn","Child","Compass","Chain","Whistle","Wheelbarrow","Nail","Tortoise","Haircut","Tongs","Sixpence","Sun","Dragon","Carpenter","Glove","Scholar","Wrestler","Sinner","Evening","Whale","Wall","Bottle","Moon"))} A funeral procession jangles through the rainy streets. Musicians march ahead of a band of white-clad mourners toting an ornate coffin on their shoulders. Patrons emerge from the doorway of a nearby pub, the $pub1 $pub2, to bow their head in respect for the occupant. You hear the distant lowing of a foghorn. - (click: "procession")[(if: $guilt <=2)[You infiltrate the wake, posing as the dead woman's $victim. A bunch of lilies sits on the offering table, out of place among the incense and the dishes of fruit and rice. The card indicates it was posted from [[Edinburgh]].](if: $guilt >=3)[You cannot bring yourself to intrude any further upon these people's grief.]] - (click: "pub")[A flight of stairs, discreetly curtained with red silk, catches your attention. You distract the barkeep with a story of a fight outside and descend into the [[bowels|Liverpool - Opium]] of the establishment.] - (click: "foghorn")[The //Maenad//, a steamship of the Blue Funnel Line, departed for [[Dublin]] half an hour ago. The cargo hold was crammed with Shanghai lacquerware, Borneo tortoiseshell, precious stones from the Transvaal and, according to watchers on the dock, an enormous wooden crate that was loaded by foreigners in the dead of night. Its passage was paid for by a woman $henchwoman.]Isle of Dogs London, England {(set: $pub1 to (either:"King's","Queen's","Beggar's","Red","Tin","Merry","White","Falling","Old","Yellow","Pickled","Jolly","Bloody","Ivory","Copper","Saucy","Flying","Lucky","Broken","Black","Wet","Lion and","Eagle and","Rose and","Anchor and","Pig and","Elephant and","Tooth and","Hare and","Shave and","Hammer and","Pound and","Moon and"," Knight and","Walrus and","Hand and","Gentleman and","Lamb and","Saint and","Lady of the","Belly of the","Hole in the","Message in the","Man in the")) (set: $pub2 to (either:"Head","Arms","Cup","Lion","Crown","Widow","Hart","Sparrow","Bell","Ribbon","Onion","Jester","Bishop","Castle","Kettle","Devil","Dutchman","Leopard","Drum","Goat","Dog","Unicorn","Child","Compass","Chain","Whistle","Wheelbarrow","Nail","Tortoise","Haircut","Tongs","Sixpence","Sun","Dragon","Carpenter","Glove","Scholar","Wrestler","Sinner","Evening","Whale","Wall","Bottle","Moon"))} The docks are lined with handsome East Indiamen, loaded high with tea, spices and indigo. Surly longshoremen tote bales of finest silk on their massive shoulders. Dracula's ship, the //$ship//, is entered into the customs registry, but it departed last night and there's no note of its heading. - (click: "longshoremen")[The $pub1 $pub2 is built into the copper-sheathed hull of a dry-docked tea clipper, its timbers rotting and the manacles attached to the walls hinting at its former purpose. The upper decks are in use as a doss-house. You buy a [[drink|London - Drink]] from the [[barkeep|London - Barkeep]] and consider how far you have sunk.] - (click: "customs")[The customs officer peers at you over the edge of her wire-rimmed glasses. You feel very small, like a child in trouble at school. "The chaps with the big wooden box?" she says. "I believe they were headed for the [[seaside|London - Seaside]]."]Waterloo Station London, England You catch the station-master balanced on a chair, struggling with the knot of a noose. "Oh," she says. "Hello." It's touch and go for a moment but you talk her down and make a cup of tea. "He left for... for [[Edinburgh]]," she says. "And you'll get no more out of me, not if you cut me to pieces. Beware the woman $henchwoman. She'll... it's... it's her!" She screams, looking over your shoulder, and tumbles to the floor in a dead faint. You turn, but there's only the window. Was it open when you came in?Waterloo Station London, England {(set: $guilt to ($guilt + 1))} The station-master is hanging by her neck. The smell is foul, though she's only recently dead. An entry in the register lying on their desk indicates the crate was sent to [[Liverpool]].Brookwood Cemetery Surrey, England You get off at the North Station, for non-conformists. Dracula is presumably not an Anglican. London's clay is so dense with corpses that any major engineering project can't help but turn up a few, even if they're not harrowing a churchyard. Workmen are busy cracking open barrels of bones and reinterring the disturbed and nameless dead. You pass the tomb of a Parsee, a cholera victim, a pair of stillborn twins. Most are chained shut. One lies open, a simple stone hut with a cross above the door, beneath a huge monkey puzzle tree. - (click: "door")[(set: $reason to ($reason - 1))Something was recently removed from this crypt. The dirt by the entrance is scraped and you find a scrap of a label, torn from luggage of some kind, bearing the letters RPO. [[Liverpool]]? It takes you a moment to notice that the cross above the door is upside-down.] - (click: "tree")[Somebody stood beneath this tree and smoked most of a cigar. You recognise the stub. It's of a kind you can only buy from a reclusive tobacconist in the seaside resort of [[Bournemouth]]. They were your $victim's favourite brand.]Edinburgh, Scotland {(set: $pub1 to (either:"King's","Queen's","Beggar's","Red","Tin","Merry","White","Falling","Old","Yellow","Pickled","Jolly","Bloody","Ivory","Copper","Saucy","Flying","Lucky","Broken","Black","Wet","Lion and","Eagle and","Rose and","Anchor and","Pig and","Elephant and","Tooth and","Hare and","Shave and","Hammer and","Pound and","Moon and"," Knight and","Walrus and","Hand and","Gentleman and","Lamb and","Saint and","Lady of the","Belly of the","Hole in the","Message in the","Man in the")) (set: $pub2 to (either:"Head","Arms","Cup","Lion","Crown","Widow","Hart","Sparrow","Bell","Ribbon","Onion","Jester","Bishop","Castle","Kettle","Devil","Dutchman","Leopard","Drum","Goat","Dog","Unicorn","Child","Compass","Chain","Whistle","Wheelbarrow","Nail","Tortoise","Haircut","Tongs","Sixpence","Sun","Dragon","Carpenter","Glove","Scholar","Wrestler","Sinner","Evening","Whale","Wall","Bottle","Moon"))} There are riots in the slums of the Cowgate, and yesterday two men lay in wait outside the Surgeons' Hall to hurl stones at an unsuspecting dentist. The discovery of a pensioner's shucked torso in the barrel of a medieval cannon has set the periodicals abuzz with rumours about the fellow they have termed the Edinburgh Ripper. - (click: "Cowgate")[The $pub1 $pub2 is the oldest pub in the city, or so you're told by the greasy, whiskey-sodden beggar lolling by its front door. You could have a [[drink|London - Drink]] here, if you're not concerned about rat spittle in the beer-kegs. Or you could investigate the titbit in the papers about a trapdoor in the cellar that leads to the South Bridge [[vaults|Edinburgh - Vaults]], favoured stalking-grounds for the cadaver merchants Burke and Hare.] - (click: "Surgeons' Hall")["This is nothing," one of the students tells you. "Back in the good old days, we used to cut 'em up alive." She's lying to shock you, but the display in the anatomical theatre is shocking enough as it is. She catches something in your eye. Perhaps a twinkle. "Come on through to the [[back|Edinburgh - Anatomy]]. Special exhibit for the discerning patron."] - (click: "cannon")[The view from the battlements of Edinburgh Castle is stunning. Useless, but stunning. You wonder if the Ripper was planning to launch the torso across the city, raining blood and entrails down on the dandies of the Royal Mile.]Dublin, Ireland {(set: $pub1 to (either:"King's","Queen's","Beggar's","Red","Tin","Merry","White","Falling","Old","Yellow","Pickled","Jolly","Bloody","Ivory","Copper","Saucy","Flying","Lucky","Broken","Black","Wet","Lion and","Eagle and","Rose and","Anchor and","Pig and","Elephant and","Tooth and","Hare and","Shave and","Hammer and","Pound and","Moon and"," Knight and","Walrus and","Hand and","Gentleman and","Lamb and","Saint and","Lady of the","Belly of the","Hole in the","Message in the","Man in the")) (set: $pub2 to (either:"Head","Arms","Cup","Lion","Crown","Widow","Hart","Sparrow","Bell","Ribbon","Onion","Jester","Bishop","Castle","Kettle","Devil","Dutchman","Leopard","Drum","Goat","Dog","Unicorn","Child","Compass","Chain","Whistle","Wheelbarrow","Nail","Tortoise","Haircut","Tongs","Sixpence","Sun","Dragon","Carpenter","Glove","Scholar","Wrestler","Sinner","Evening","Whale","Wall","Bottle","Moon"))} In the foyer of an abandoned pub, the $pub1 $pub2, two tramps are boiling bacon rinds over an open fire. They are fueling it with the pages of an illuminated manuscript, the gold leaf crackling in the heat. "Taps are dry," says one of them. "We've a bit of poteen if it suits you." - (click: "tramps")["Aye, we helped unload the //Maenad//. All that finery passing through our hands and not an ounce of it stuck. Your big wooden crate's on its way to [[Bournemouth]]. Full of dirt, it seemed to me. Maybe part of some special treatment for the invalids."] - (click: "manuscript")["You can't have that. We nicked it. You didn't nick it, so you can't have it. Some [[professor|Dublin - Trinity]] and his lackeys been scouring the city for it. Don't know why. Doesn't burn a worth a damn."] - (click: "poteen")["This stuff's why they call me Blind Harry. Hold on, give the [[bottle|London - Drink]] back now."]Le Havre, France Young ladies in enormous hats race rowboats down the placid Seine. Barges laden with coffee-sacks putter upstream to Rouen. Waves lap at the base of the high chalk cliffs of the Pays de Caux, and daredevils throng to the pavilions of the new casino. - (click: "cliffs")[(set: $guilt to ($guilt + 1))Why would a sunbather choose to lie in the shade? As you approach, you see the woman is dressed for a riotous evening, and her neck is bent at an angle that must at the very least be uncomfortable. The note in her purse speaks of her shame at losing her $victim's fortune at roulette, to a woman $henchwoman, and asks whoever finds her to deliver news of her fate to a young man in [[Paris]].] - (click: "casino")[(if: $savagery > $reason)[You hurl yourself across the table at the thin-moustached man who cleaned you out. He sniffs and turns his back as the casino guards drag you away. They give you a good walloping and, as a little joke, dump your bruised carcass on a barge, which is halfway to [[Paris]] before you wake up.](if: $savagery <= $reason)[You smile as you count your winnings. The face of your thin-moustached opponent is a frozen mask of Gallic horror. "Please," he sniffs. "I have nothing left." You're about to have the casino guards dispose of him when he raises a hand. "But... information?" Apparently a women $henchwoman has been nosing about the underworld, enquiring about recent events in [[Brest]].]]Amsterdam, Netherlands A spry Javanese (hook: "lascar")[lascar] is brawling with a (hook: "Pole")[Pole] almost twice her size outside a rubber warehouse on the Brouwersgracht. You're not sure whether to intervene, on one side or the other, or hurry along to your dinner appointment. You've been invited to sup with an wealthy acquaintance in a Baroque mansion on the Herengracht, and you're half an hour late. - (click: ?lascar)[(set: $guilt to ($guilt - 1))You distract the Pole with a whistle and a wave of your hat. The lascar seizes the opportunity to leap three feet into the air and drive her knee into his throat, sending the big Slav crumpling to the ground. All in a good day's work. Your new friend is shipping out tomorrow for [[Hamburg]], and happy to offer you a berth.] - (click: ?Pole)[(set: $savagery to ($savagery + 1))You seize the lascar by the waist and connive with the Pole to deliver her up to the silty waters of the canal. She emerges bruised, spluttering and cursing your name. Your new friend departs tomorrow for [[Le Havre]], apparently trying to get as far from Eastern Europe as possible.] - (click: "appointment")[The seventeenth-century trader-kings who built this place spared no expense. You half expect the lion's-head [[doorknocker|Amsterdam - Golden Bend]] to come alive and devour you.]Bournemouth, England {(set: $pub1 to (either:"King's","Queen's","Beggar's","Red","Tin","Merry","White","Falling","Old","Yellow","Pickled","Jolly","Bloody","Ivory","Copper","Saucy","Flying","Lucky","Broken","Black","Wet","Lion and","Eagle and","Rose and","Anchor and","Pig and","Elephant and","Tooth and","Hare and","Shave and","Hammer and","Pound and","Moon and"," Knight and","Walrus and","Hand and","Gentleman and","Lamb and","Saint and","Lady of the","Belly of the","Hole in the","Message in the","Man in the")) (set: $pub2 to (either:"Head","Arms","Cup","Lion","Crown","Widow","Hart","Sparrow","Bell","Ribbon","Onion","Jester","Bishop","Castle","Kettle","Devil","Dutchman","Leopard","Drum","Goat","Dog","Unicorn","Child","Compass","Chain","Whistle","Wheelbarrow","Nail","Tortoise","Haircut","Tongs","Sixpence","Sun","Dragon","Carpenter","Glove","Scholar","Wrestler","Sinner","Evening","Whale","Wall","Bottle","Moon"))} Bathing-machines roll into the ocean, disgorging their underclad occupants a modest distance from the gawkers on the sands. Parasol-wielding consumptives stroll among the pines, or are pushed in rattan bath-chairs by broad-skirted attendants. The smell of the air here is said to be good for the lungs. Gulls mewl overhead. Under everything you detect the acrid tang of birdshit and vinegar. - (click: "Bathing-machines")[(set: $guilt to ($guilt + 1))One of the machines stands apart from the rest. The water around it is waist-deep and its doors hang ajar. A young man with a prodigious moustache lies inside. Somebody $tragedy him, with the application of considerable force, and left him here for you to find. The word [[BREST|Brest]] is scrawled in blood across the breast of his blue-striped bathing costume.] - (click: "consumptives")[The sanatorium takes no visitors without an appointment. According to the man who changes the bed-linen, who you catch after hours in a secluded establishment called the $pub1 $pub2, they make the occasional exception for a specific type of well-heeled traveller who, for reasons of their own, wants to spend a lot of time around people with infectious saliva and scarred lungs. Once such customer was ushered in, with great deference, in the wee hours of the morning before last. He left a forwarding address in [[Le Havre]], and he was accompanied by a woman $henchwoman.]Brest, France The castle squats at the harbour's edge. An admiral in a tricorne hat stalks the battlements, nodding his approval as sailors bustle around the decks of the ironclads below. You nibble a slice of salted eel and wonder how you're going to sneak inside. - (click: "castle")[The recent prisoner transfer was meant to be a secret, but the unusual mode of the captive's arrival has sent gossip racing through the town. They say she was brought in by a fishing-boat, sole survivor of a terrible storm that hurled the crew of their steamer onto the notorious rocks of Ushant. Five minutes later and she would have been drowned by the weight of the iron mask clamped around her head.] - (click: "harbour")[Dracula's ship, the //$ship//, lingered here for no more than an hour. The only person seen to depart was a woman $henchwoman, who paid a visit to the admiral before departing on the overnight train to [[Paris]]. Nobody seems to like talking about her, least of all the guards on the postern [[gate|Brest - Brig]]. They won't meet your gaze as you tell them she asked you to clear up a few minor matters.] - (click: "eel")["Couldn't get it off," says the fisherman, standing guard over an enormous bucket of live, scuttling [[langoustines|Brest - Langoustines]]. "Key's somewhere at the bottom of the sea. Take a blacksmith to let her see the light of day again. And did I see a centime of reward? They snatch her away from me and tell me to go piss in the ocean."]At Sea {(set: $reason to ($reason - 1))} Your gut roils and your head is preparing to hatch like an egg. You reek of regurgitated spirits. You try to stand and discover that gravity has betrayed you. There is a man standing over you. He is very loud. His head is impossible to look at. The sun is behind it and causing you pain. It is unclear how you arrived in this dreadful predicament. "I don't care who you are and I don't care how the hell you got on my ship. You're getting off at the (either:"[[next damn port|Amsterdam]]","[[next damn port|Hamburg]]","[[next damn port|Brest]]","[[next damn port|Le Havre]]") and you'll be lucky if it ain't a mite sooner." Is he American? You do not care to question why he is American.The $pub1 $pub2 London, England "Three blokes came in last night. Not ones I recognise, and if a fellow drinks in this town I'll be bumping into them sooner or later. Talked in funny accents. Bragged about going to the Continent next. [[Le Havre]], methinks, or maybe [[Amsterdam]]." She knocks back a measure of gin that could drown a toad. "Queer conclusion to the evening. Lady $henchwoman comes in, looks at 'em ever so sweetly, these boastful bandits turn pale and troop out like meek little lambs. Never seen anything like it. She left half a pound on the counter, but you can see the Queen's face is all scratched out."Isle of Dogs London, England "Gaggle of foreign fellows, a tad wan, but harmless enough as Continentals go. On some sort of pleasure-jaunt about the Channel. Think they were headed to [[Bournemouth]]. Lord knows they could use the sun." You do not believe that Dracula would enjoy Bournemouth, the famous spa and holiday resort. You explain this at length. The customs officer knits as you talk, and the constant click of the needles destroys any chance of your expressing a coherent argument. "Definitely Bournemouth," she says. "Definitely. Or possibly [[Le Havre]]. But probably Bournemouth." It is possible that you do not understand Dracula as well as you thought.The $pub1 $pub2 Liverpool, England (set: $savagery to ($savagery - 1))(set: $reason to ($reason - 1)) You feel that you are descending into Hell itself. Red, smoky, smelling oddly like flowers. Perhaps it is merely an opium den. A smiling old man with a delicate moustache offers you a stumpy wooden pipe. You have not come this far to deny him. The two of you embark upon a chat about the (either:"conflicting","deceptive","essential","inscrutable","inextricable","collaborative","true","illusory","implausible") nature of (either:"time","reason","suffering","guilt","justice","cruelty","death","destiny","tradition") and (either:"solace","remorse","redemption","faith","mercy","liberty","happiness","wisdom","peace"). You tell him your tale. He tells you of a lady of his acquaintance, a most handsome creature, who was savagely $tragedy by a force he dare not name. When you awake there is no trace of the old man except the calligraphy running down your forearms. "All trails are false," it reads. "You will not find him in [[Dublin]]. You will find him in the Château de [[Brest]]. Beware the woman $henchwoman!"Hamburg, Germany You press your way between the paupers that crowd the docks, carefully skirting hunched old men and dodging snot-spattered children. The great liners depart hourly for America, those aboard crammed into steerage like so many North Sea sardines. You may be the only person headed //into// Germany. According to an itinerant coal-shoveller, an enormous wooden crate was met at the docks last Thursday by certain Imperial authorities and relocated, with care, to the train depot. - (click: "America")[Tempting. But no. Dracula is a creature of the Old World.] - (click: "authorities")[The disgraced former chancellor, Otto von Bismarck, maintains a residence in the nearby hamlet of [[Friedrichsruh|Hamburg - Friedrichsruh]]. The police here are still known to carry out his errands from time to time.] - (click: "train")[You are by now an expert in the tedious task of cross-examining porters. These speak of a woman $henchwoman who purchased three tickets, one each for [[Berlin]], the Bavarian city of [[Munich]] and the artists' colony at [[Worpswede|Hamburg - Worpswede]]. Can Dracula separate himself into three distinct forms? It seems as likely a theory as any.]South Bridge Vaults Edinburgh, Scotland Burke and Hare have been dead for years, hanged by the neck and publicly dissected. The vaults are no longer in use as tenement housing, but the floors are still littered with human waste and oyster-shells. You wander the darkness aimlessly, uncertain what you're looking for. There's no sign of Dracula. All you have to go on is your hunch that this is the kind of place he would be interested in. (if: $guilt > $savagery)[You stumble out into the street, blinking in the light, none the wiser for your little expedition. People are staring at you in astonishment. You don't know why until you return to your hotel and discover that your face is, unaccountably, smeared with dried blood. The next day a reasonable likeness of you is on the cover of a popular penny-dreadful, for some reason naming you as the Axe Artist of [[Amsterdam]].](if: $savagery >= $guilt)[You creep up through another trapdoor into the back room of a respectable butcher's shop. A white-jacketed man is mincing liver and lungs, mixing them with suet and oatmeal, cutting a hole in a stomach and cramming it full of the compound. He leaves it in the oven to roast, picks up the rest of the body from where it lies in the corner, goes over to the trapdoor and drops it down the hole onto the pile you have just discovered. He turns around and discovers you holding a cleaver. Sharp words are exchanged. The idea of human haggis, you discover, was suggested to him by a charming young lady $henchwoman who told him to meet her in [[Hamburg]] when she was done.]Surgeons' Hall Edinburgh, Scotland (set: $savagery to ($savagery + 1))(set: $reason to ($reason+1)) A snake preserved in formaldehyde, wrapped around a four-month-old fetus. A barrel of teeth. The pox-marked nose of what the student assures you is Queen Elizabeth. "Couldn't show the collection to the public. Not with all this Ripper guff. I admire the man's work on a purely technical level..." She trails off. She's looking behind you. Siamese twins, joined at the torso and cranium, stumbling towards you on four floppy legs. You can see the stitches down their chest from an aborted attempt at separation. You can't tell how long they have been dead. You grab a jar and, as they reach for your throat, smash it across their left temple. Their grip tightens. The student is trying to prise them off you. Blackness creeps around the edge of your vision. You grab the stitches and pull. The rotten thread gives way with sickening ease. You can't tell what is and is not a vital organ, so you just yank out anything you can get your hands on. Later, once you're wrapped in a blanket and nursing a whiskey and soda, you have the presence of mind to ask where the exhibit came from. Turns out it was recently shipped from [[Hamburg]]. Trinity College Dublin, Ireland (set: $reason to ($reason+1))(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1)) "Can't thank you enough," says the professor, tenderly replacing the manuscript among the shelves of the Old Library. The arched ceiling and stern busts of scholars give the place the feel of a cathedral. "These vandals have no sense of history. Malnutrition and whiskey shrivels the hippocampus. And, of course, the average Irishman has roughly the cranial capacity of an immature //pan troglodytes//. How much can you expect from a descendant of the Iberian race?" He slides a book across the table. "This may interest you. //Citadels of Europe//. Someone has circled an illustration of the Château de [[Brest]]. With blood."Paris, France The rain-slick boulevards glisten in the streetlights. The walls are lined with peeling posters of butterflies and harlequins. Everyone is hideously rude and annoyingly well-dressed. You browse the stack of invitations the bellhop delivers to your door, selecting those that suit your interests. (if: $reason >=3)[A scientific [[lecture|Paris - Lecture]]. ](if: $reason <= 2)[A Symbolist [[salon|Paris - Salon]]. ](if: $guilt <=2)[An evening at the [[cabaret|Paris - Cabaret]]. ](if: $guilt >=3)[A trip to the [[cinema|Paris - Cinema]]. ](if: $savagery >=3)[A staged brawl between [[Apaches|Paris - Apaches]]. ](if: $savagery <=2)[Dinner at the [[Eiffel Tower|Paris - Eiffel Tower]].]Bordeaux, France Peasants in colourful scarves, their bare feet stained purple, dodge an escaped barrel of Merlot as it plunges down a hillside street toward the harbour. The //$ship// is moored by a pier, seemingly abandoned. Stevedores give it an instinctive berth, though you notice rats throng to it. - (click: "harbour")[A battleship called the //Irréfutable// is docked here, thronging with sailors. You get one very drunk and learn that he recently put a prisoner on a train to the Bastille in [[Paris]]. Or was it [[Marseille]]? Wherever they have that famous prison. You tell him the Bastille has been destroyed for years, but he insists that's only a ruse.] - (click: $ship)[He can't have come here as a tourist. If there's one thing you know about Dracula, it's that he does not drink wine.] - (click: "rats")[One of them is shredding a ticket-stub in its tiny claws. You can still read the letters YON. [[Lyon]]. Did he leave this for you to find? Does he want you to set you on a false trail, or a true one?]Berlin, Germany The emperor is strolling through the zoo, dressed in full military regalia, accompanied by bodyguards and a woman $henchwoman. No matter how carefully you eavesdrop, you can only hear fragments of their conversation. - (click: "zoo")[Elephant seals loll on platforms of damp concrete, ignoring their trainers' provocations. Hamadryas baboons with buttocks the colour of raw steak smoke cigars offered them by tourists. An Onondaga woman sleeps on a straw pallet, feathers jammed haphazardly in her hair. One cage stands empty, a display of South American chiroptera on loan from a private collector in (either: "[[Strasbourg]]","[[Munich]]"). A hole has been visibly gnawed in the chicken-wire.] - (click: "eavesdrop")[(if: $savagery > $reason)["...stubborn old killjoy. Nothing but tariffs and conferences..."](if: $savagery is $reason)["...every hundred years in a cemetery in [[Prague]]..."](if: $savagery < $reason)["...the publishers of //Robotnik//. I have a man in [[Cracow]] who'd be suitable..."]] - (click: "fragments")[(if: $reason > $guilt)["...power upon history. Explains absolutely everything..."](if: $reason is $guilt)["...the most splendid new battleship. I must show you my sketches. A private firm in [[Munich]]..."](if: $reason < $guilt)["...grand duke of [[Cracow]]. Is that Nicky or Charles? I never..."]] - (click: "conversation")[(if: $savagery < $guilt)["...gateway to the Yellow Sea, and a permanent harbour in the Pacific. The Russians are fit to be tied..."](if: $savagery is $guilt)["...our Austrian cousins. The Habsburgs may be fossils, but [[Prague]] has been theirs since..."](if: $savagery > $guilt)["...[[Strasbourg]] without a fight? I shall relish the chance to prove my manly virtue..."]]Cologne, Germany The chimes of the Kaiserglocke, cast from the bronze of French cannons and large enough to house a family of four, usually echo through every corner of the city. Today they're strangely silent. Gargoyles belch rainwater down at you from the cathedral's towering facade. Inside, the bones of the Magi are preserved in a huge gilded reliquary behind the high altar. Confession booths are tucked discreetly away in the transept. - (click: "Kaiserglocke")[(set: $reason to ($reason+1))The bell-rope's been cut. You search the catwalks, examine the machinery, peer out the [[windows|Cologne - Window]] at the flying buttresses and come away with nothing but an increased appreciation for whoever built all this.] - (click: "Gargoyles")[Horned wyverns, bearded rams, monks with jaws gaping in idiotic laughter. You think you recognise the face of a hooded figure jutting from a distant corner, but the only way to be sure would be to climb out a [[window|Cologne - Window]].] - (click: "Magi")[The three wise kings of the Orient who were present at the birth of Jesus Christ.] - (click: "reliquary")[The lid is ever so slightly ajar. You peer inside and discover, with no real surprise, that it's empty.] - (click: "Confession")[(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1))"Three nights ago," says the priest. You don't know what they look like. Even their voice is muffled, though you detect a hint of peevishness. "And, yes, they are authentic, before you ask. Discovered by Saint Helena, mother of Constantine the Great, and brought here by Frederick Barbarossa. Hallowed! Hallowed are they!" Of course. What might have happened to them, though? "Our sources inform us the thieves fled in the direction of either [[Strasbourg]] or [[Berlin]]. By now, of course, they could be anywhere.(if: $firstname is "Melchior" or is "Kaspar" or is "Balthazar")[(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1)) You must help us. Your name. Do you not see it is a sign?]"]Munich, Germany A Communist rally in the Marienplatz is being broken up by a //Friekorps//, a regiment of students and mercenaries shouting pro-Bismarck slogans and brandishing bayonets. The police are standing idly by. - (click: "Communist")["Go to [[Ingolstadt|Munich - Ingolstadt]]," you are told by a woman with a burning stare. "There you will see a testament to the limitless promises of Science."] - (click: "students")["Go to [[Neuschwanstein|Munich - Neuschwanstein]]," you are told by a woman with a firm handshake. "There you will see a testament to the baseless promises of Romance."] - (click: "mercenaries")["No, I just got paid. Yes. Yes, the one $henchwoman."]Strasbourg, Germany Spike-helmeted Prussians patrol the streets, scowling at prospective revanchists. A rash of dead chickens in the city has set tempers to run high, with French and Germans alike blaming gypsies, and all things considered you might be best off leaving on the train tomorrow morning. - (click: "chickens")[A child with tufted ears and hairy face looks sadly up at you from the coop of your lodging-house. Its teeth are stained red. (if: $savagery <=2)[(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1))You wrestle it into a sack and pay a woodcutter to release it into the Black Forest, as far from civilisation as they can manage.](if: $savagery >=3)[(set: $guilt to ($guilt+1))It springs at you and you are left with no choice but to beat the wolf-boy to death with your bare hands. You sell the corpse to a travelling circus for a couple of reichsmarks. They're off to [[Munich]] next. Seems there's a market for freaks there.]] - (click: "train")[The porter remembers loading an enormous wooden box, but he's dim on whether it was headed to the spa town of [[Baden-Baden|Strasbourg - Baden-Baden]] or secreted in the cargo hold of the [[Orient Express|Strasbourg - Express]]. The latter train still idles in the station.] Lyon, France The //canuts// are staging a riot outside a silk workshop in la Croix-Rousse where a labourer was recently strangled by a Jacquard loom. They're waving the black flags of Anarchism, putting on puppet shows and setting fire to massive stacks of punch cards. A peculiar wooden box, perhaps some kind of camera, is set up nearby, and a stout woman in a top hat is peering through what must be a viewfinder. - (click: "Anarchism")[(if: $reason >= 3)[The scourge of decent-minded folk everywhere.](if: $reason <=2)[The common man's saviour and Europe's final hope.]] - (click: "puppet")[You recognise this grinning wooden buffoon. There's an establishment in Paris, the Theatre of the Grand Puppet, where the shows are widely (either:"famed","condemned","praised","avoided","mocked","debated","reviled","patronised","discussed","known") for their (either:"pointlessness","simplicity","nihilism","baroqueness","abruptness","speed","naturalism","cheapness","stupidity","blasphemy") and (either:"brutality","squalidity","violence","perversion","preponderance of gore","nastiness","immorality","bloody climaxes","use of real corpses","morbidity"). His head hangs, massively enlarged, over the door.] - (click: "camera")[(set: $reason to ($reason-1))(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1))"The Lumieres own that factory," says the woman. "We're going to cut the damn rug out from under them. Here, have a look." She escorts you to a nearby studio, a crude shed covered in tarpaper, its roof open to admit sunlight. You peep through the eyehole of a kinetoscope and watch a short reel of a boxing match. The film's in black and silver, but the blood that flows from the fighters' lips shines red. "We're working with Qliphothic alchemists, physicists from [[Zürich]] and spiritualists from [[Milan]]. Edison never dreamt of this stuff. It would seem implausible to Tesla. We possess machines, in this very building, that can track the movements of the dead. We can record the past, the future, things that should have happened and things that never ought to be. One day soon," she says, turning, "I hope to be able to photograph Hell." You're not there. "Hello?" She rattles the door. It's barred from outside. "Is this a joke? You know I have powerful friends." You strike a match. Tarpaper, it turns out, burns as easily as its name would suggest."]Marseille, France In a dining-hall along the Canebière a fat-armed cook presides over an inverted churchbell full of steaming bouillabaisse. Her assistant is a one-armed man, who deftly guts scorpionfish, crushes garlic and extracts urchin roe with a thumb-sized spoon. You share your bowl with a blue-skinned Touareg who's traded the desert for the sea. - (click: "blue-skinned")[Her cheeks are dyed from prolonged contact with the //tagelmust//, a traditional indigo scarf. She no longer wears it, citing the absence of sandstorms.] - (click: "desert")["Basically the same thing. Featureless, flat, undrinkable. Unaccountably romanticized. Most of what I do is actually very boring. Though there's been some interesting characters lurking around the [[Old Port|Marseille - Old Port]] lately."] - (click: "sea")["Well-paying characters. It's not every day a woman $henchwoman wants to take a midnight jaunt to the [[Chateau d'If|Marseille - Chateau d'If]]."]Cracow, Austria-Hungary Wawel Cathedral houses the bones of a dozen Polish kings, two saints, several revolutionaries, a national poet and a dragon. It's a wonder there's any room for the congregation. - (click: "dragon")[Slain by a cobbler's apprentice who fed the dragon a lamb stuffed with sulphur and laughed as its belly blew up. The chains that hold the curved bones in suspension over the cathedral doors have been snapped, and the relic itself absconded with. Witnesses describe a stitched thing with yellow eyes and fingers black with frostbite, headed in the direction of [[Lemberg]].] - (click: "congregation")[(set: $savagery to ($savagery+1))A troupe of playwrights and artists are proposing that the chains be left in their broken state as a symbol of man's liberation from the shackles of mythology. You go to see one of their performances, a grim farce about King Sigismund the Old and the melancholy of his jester. Judging by the smell, the blood is real. "Pig's," the lead actor confides in you, stumbling drunk on vodka at the afterparty. "Got the idea in [[Buda-Pesth]]. You wouldn't believe what people get up to over there."]Prague, Austria-Hungary (set: $reason to ($reason-1)) "Ten clay shells. Each capturing a different ray of Ohr Ein Sof, the boundless light of uncreation. But the fifth shell, Gevurah, Severity, could not contain the divine radiance. It shattered, and the fragments sank to the bottom of Tzimtzum, the space of all possibility, descending through Seder Hishtalshelus until it reached the lowest of the Olamot. This was the genesis of the Qliphoth, the dark mirror of the Sephirot, the counterbalance to the Tree of Life. The Tree of Death." The rabbi is wearing heavy leather gloves, which go surprisingly well with his sidelocks and round black hat. He looks like he knows what he's talking about. You're glad somebody here does. "As soon as I saw Mendeleev's table I knew," he says. "There is a shadow-table, a catalogue of dark elements. Anti-atoms composed of cruel electrons. A stone that turns gold into lead, an elixir of eternal death. And I will be the one to find it." After tea you go through his correspondence, finding addresses in [[Vienna]] and [[Cracow]]. It may be worth discovering if they share his madness.Brest, France (set: $key to 1) You ask for a langoustine. No, not that one. That one either. The fattest, juiciest specimen is right at the bottom of the bucket, holding an iron key in its claws. The fisherman crosses himself. This is clearly a sign from God. A barrel of lampreys is delivered to the [[prisoners|Brest - Brig]] every Friday morning, and he would be honoured to permit you to conceal yourself in it.Château de Brest Brest, France The cell is empty. You skim the warden's notebook and discover the woman in the iron mask was transferred to [[Bordeaux]] over a week ago on the ironclad //Irréfutable//. Your only consolation is that this must have been just as frustrating for Dracula as for you.Herengracht Amsterdam, Netherlands You are seated between a landscape painter and a hydraulic engineer, who spend all evening bickering over the latter's proposal to dam the Zuiderzee. Not until dessert, a concoction of raspberries and drained buttermilk, do you get a chance to corner your host. (if: $savagery >= $guilt)[You spit your defiance in her face. That she should acknowledge your condition only now, after you languished for so long in the very bosom of despair, is far crueller in your eyes than her original negligence. She shrinks from your onslaught, knowing it to be no less than her due. "A holy relic was recently stolen from the [[Cologne]] Cathedral, and the priests are desperate for aid. Go there. Seek redemption, at least for one of us."](if: $savagery< $guilt)[You cling to her knees and beg her mercy for the crimes you have committed against God, against humanity, against your $victim. You see only contempt in her eyes. "Cease this embarrassing display. If you must have forgiveness, seek a priest. The fathers of the [[Cologne]] Cathedral are splendid recievers of confession. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must pass around cigars."]Friedrichsruh, Germany (set: $reason to ($reason - 1)) The mastermind sips his tea. "No, I don't mind guests. He is killing me, you see. What is your English adage? Bored to death?" The famous moustache quivers with fury. "To forge a nation in the crucible of war, establish an empire fit to make the world tremble, and see it all handed to a man I would not trust to play with dolls! Cursed be the name Hohenzollern! And yet I fear the emperor is only a pawn in the hands of a still greater villainy. It has often been my thought that the great European war would come out of some damn fool thing in the Balkans. I may have been wrong. There are things in the Balkans, my spies tell me, that are wiser by far than all our modern science. Things that haunt the gorges of the Carpathians and skulk in the Transylvanian woods. It may be that we are the damned fools." His tea is growing cold. "I had another visitor recently. A woman $henchwoman, on her way to [[Berlin]]. A gypsy, perhaps. She claimed to know the future. She offered me a glimpse of my legacy. And, like a fool, I accepted." You hurry from the manor, the shadows of the trees around you growing longer. The man inside may not be a fool, but he is most certainly damned.Worpswede, Germany (set: $savagery to ($savagery - 1)) "We never knew who the money came from." The sculptor, an impossibly fat woman, sits on the steps of her smouldering cottage, cradling her head in her hands. "We didn't care. Nobody else was paying for work like that. Insipid landscapes, stiff-necked portraits, the same eight dull scenes from mythology - it was a chance to put the whole tedious legacy behind us. To do something actually challenging." "Factions arose." The frail, elderly man is methodically shredding canvases, consigning the remains to a fire fueled by the peat of the Teufelsbog. You only glimpse the paintings. They seem to use a lot of red. "Each had their own way of doing things. Each their own vision of what our aims should be, what our mysterious benefactor desired. Some preferred symbolic methods. Others were painfully literal." "Pornography's a big word," says the square-faced woman, charcoaling a lumpy silhouette onto a rock. "I was always happy with the deal. Never saw anything to complain about. The cheques were posted from [[Munich]], if you're looking for a patron yourself."Eiffel Tower Paris, France (set: $savagery to ($savagery-1))(set: $loop to ($loop+1)) (if: $loop is 1)["$firstname! So good to see you!" Your fellow $profession enfolds you in a warm, tobacco-scented embrace that you have no choice but to return. The sun is setting and the city below you is a cats' cradle of stolen light. "I dine here every evening. It is the only place in the city from which you cannot see this wretched eyesore." Hasn't changed a bit. Still borrowing other people's jokes. The two of you share the most pleasant evening you have had since... well. Since Dracula. Around midnight the talk turns sombre. "Who can say? There are many stirrings abroad. Our mutual friend in [[Amsterdam]] sends me rumors of a daring heist in [[Cologne]]. And I have a new, how you say, little friend in the Navy. He tells me of a convict from Devil's Island, summoned home by an order from the most exalted offices of the Republic to suffer confinement in [[Marseille]]."](if: $loop is 2)["$firstname! So good to see you!" Your fellow $profession enfolds you in a warm, tobacco-scented embrace that you have no choice but to return. The sun is setting and the city below you is a cats' cradle of stolen light. "I dine here every evening. It is the only place in the city from which you cannot see this wretched eyesore." Hasn't changed a bit. Still borrowing other people's jokes. The two of you share the most pleasant evening you have had since... well. Since Dracula. Around midnight the talk turns sombre. "Who can say? There are many stirrings abroad. Our mutual friend in [[Amsterdam]] sends me rumors of a daring heist in [[Cologne]]. And I have a new, how you say, little friend in the Navy. He tells me of a convict from Devil's Island, summoned home by an order from the most exalted offices of the Republic to suffer confinement in [[Marseille]]." You feel the strangest sense of //déjà vu//.](if: $loop is 3)["$firstname! So good to see you!" Your fellow $profession enfolds you in a warm, tobacco-scented embrace that you have no choice but to return. The sun is setting and the city below you is drained of colour, like a sepia photograph. "I dine here every evening. It is the only place in the city from which you cannot see this wretched eyesore." Hasn't changed a bit. Still borrowing other people's jokes. The two of you share the most pleasant evening you have had since... well. Since Dracula. Around midnight the talk turns sombre. "Who can say? There are many stirrings abroad. Our mutual friend in [[Amsterdam]] sends me rumors of a daring heist in [[Cologne]]. And I have a new, how you say, little friend in the Navy. He tells me of a convict from Devil's Island, summoned home by an order from the most exalted offices of the Republic to suffer confinement in [[Marseille]]." There's something you want to say to him. It's on the tip of your tongue.](if: $loop is 4)["$firstname! So good to see you!" Your fellow $profession enfolds you in a warm, tobacco-scented embrace that you have no choice but to return. The sun has set and the city below you is enfolded in darkness. "I dine here every evening. It is the only place in the city from which you cannot see this wretched eyesore." Hasn't changed a bit. Still borrowing other people's jokes. The two of you share the most pleasant evening you have had since... well. Since Dracula. Around midnight the talk turns sombre. "Who can say? There are many stirrings abroad. Our mutual friend in [[Amsterdam]] sends me rumors of a daring heist in [[Cologne]]. And I have a new, how you say, little friend in the Navy. He tells me of a convict from Devil's Island, summoned home by an order from the most exalted offices of the Republic to suffer confinement in [[Marseille]]." Have the two of you done this before? You keep meaning to ask him, but somehow you don't quite manage it.](if: $loop is 5)["$firstname! So good to see you!" Your fellow $profession enfolds you in a warm, tobacco-scented embrace that you have no choice but to return. It's a starless night. You might as well be hanging in the void of space. "I dine here every evening. It is the only place in the city from which you cannot see this wretched eyesore." Hasn't changed a bit. Still borrowing other people's jokes. The two of you share the most pleasant evening you have had since... well. Since Dracula. Around midnight the talk turns sombre. "Who can say? There are many stirrings abroad. Our mutual friend in [[Amsterdam]] sends me rumors of a daring heist in [[Cologne]]. And I have a new, how you say, little friend in the Navy. He tells me of a convict from Devil's Island, summoned home by an order from the most exalted offices of the Republic to suffer confinement in [[Marseille]]." You have a question you need to ask him. Something about the tower. How long has it been here? He keeps changing the subject, and you can see the panic in his eyes.](if: $loop is 6)[Strange. He's usually so punctual. There's no appointment under his name, and when you ask at his office they purport not to have heard of him. His landlady only shrugs, and his room is bare except for peeling wallpaper and a lice-riddled mattress. You loiter around the city for three days. When he doesn't turn up, you buy a ticket to [[Cologne]]. Dracula waits for no man.]Montmartre Paris, France (set: $guilt to ($guilt+1)) In a cramped, dusty attic above a boarding-house, pervaded with the smell of cabbage soup, you and four other people watch grainy footage of a plump young man in a skin-tight leotard standing in an ankle-deep bathtub while a butler pours sand on him from a silver jug. In the discussion afterwards the five of you conclude that it was meant to be erotic. You linger. More films are shown. A brief, unpersuasive rigmarole involving a woman dressed as a skeleton. A gang of bug-eyed scientists launching a capsule into the depths of space. Another young man in a state of déshabille being lifted into the air by an invisible force and, as you watch, convincingly $tragedy. The student beside you comments wryly on how the blood is clearly coloured syrup. The cinematograph, you discover by inspecting the projector, was manufactured in [[Lyon]]. The label gives no more specific address.Montmartre Paris, France (set: $guilt to ($guilt-1)) The door to the Cabaret du Désespoir is the gaping maw of a skull. You proceed down several flights of stairs beneath a ceiling encrusted with corpses and take your seats at a table shaped like a coffin. The waiter is a pallbearer. His tray is a smaller coffin. When he brings you your drinks, a woman dressed as a skeleton jumps out of the table and runs away. The dancers are incubi and succubi, howling and contorting beneath the whip of a puffy-breeched Mephisto. It's all rather jolly. You sip your absinthe and consider the impossibility of actually being sad in such a place. You tip a dancer well and they come to sit beside you. You cannot tell their gender and aren't convinced it matters. They talk about a customer the other night, a woman $henchwoman, who left early. "Don't know what the poor thing was expecting. Where did she say she was going? [[Strasbourg]]? Or [[Cologne]]? One of those dire Mitteleuropan places. The Kaiser can have them for all I care."you are dracula dracula makes you his bride scooby-doo twist - dracula is a puppet controlled by the henchwoman dracula is an old sad man who wants to die dracula is the illuminati, plotting wwi dracula is a wizard of the scholomance and also from space dracula wants you to think that you are dracula but actually he's dracula you slay dracula dracula recruits you to the solomonari choices: marry me obey me kill me forget me join me - scholomance take my place go mad die hg + lr + hs - join hg + hr + ls - obey hg + lr + ls - die hg + hr + hs - marry lg + lr + ls - forget lg + hr + ls - take lg + lr + hs - go mad lg + hr + hs - kill leave and never come back - only if choice1=choice2 {(if: $guilt >=3 and $reason >=3 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "obey")] (if: $guilt >=3 and $reason <=2 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "join")] (if: $guilt >=3 and $reason <=2 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "die")] (if: $guilt >=3 and $reason >=3 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "marry")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason >=3 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "take")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason <=2 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "go mad")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason <=2 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "forget")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason >=3 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "kill")] (set: $choice2 to (either: "obey","join","die","marry","take","go mad","forget","kill")) (if: $choice1 is $choice2)[(set: $choice2 to "leave")] (if: $choice1 is "obey")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Obey me|Dracula - Obey]]")] (if: $choice1 is "join")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Join me|Dracula - Join]]")] (if: $choice1 is "die")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Die|Dracula - Die]]")] (if: $choice1 is "marry")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Marry me|Dracula - Marry]]")] (if: $choice1 is "take")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Take my place|Dracula - Take]]")] (if: $choice1 is "go mad")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Go mad|Dracula - Mad]]")] (if: $choice1 is "forget")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Forget me|Dracula - Forget]]")] (if: $choice1 is "kill")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Kill me|Dracula - Kill]]")] (if: $choice2 is "obey")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[become my slave|Dracula - Obey]]")] (if: $choice2 is "join")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[become my apprentice|Dracula - Join]]")] (if: $choice2 is "die")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[die|Dracula - Die]]")] (if: $choice2 is "marry")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[become my bride|Dracula - Marry]]")] (if: $choice2 is "take")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[take my place|Dracula - Take]]")] (if: $choice2 is "go mad")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[go mad|Dracula - Mad]]")] (if: $choice2 is "forget")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[forget I ever was|Dracula - Forget]]")] (if: $choice2 is "kill")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[kill me|Dracula - Kill]]")] (if: $choice2 is "leave")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[leave this place forever|Dracula - Leave]]")]} $choice1 $choice2Le Marais Paris, France (set: $reason to ($reason-1)) After a couple of attempts at conversation, during each of which you gradually realize you have made some kind of terrible faux pas which any further action can only exacerbate, you pass the time by examining the paintings on the walls. A hooded figure admonishing a child. Three Arthurian damsels bathing in a mirror. A redhead who's $tragedy a pig. Everyone here seems very convinced that all this stuff is revolutionary. A white-goateed man rings a small bell. "Will everyone assemble, please, in the drawing-room? We are gathered here tonight to initiate a new member." You trail obediently after him and stand to the side, wondering who the unfortunate neophyte is. Two footmen are setting a heavy oak table with smouldering black candles and a five-pointed chalk star. "Acolyte $lastname," says the goateed man. "Step forward and remove your clothes." On your way out you take another look at the painting of the pig. It bears no artist's signature, but there's a date and a location. [[Strasbourg]].Institut de France Paris, France (set: $reason to ($reason+1)) "It's perfectly safe," the spectacled woman assures you. The lecture theatre's almost empty, the few people in attendance seated as far away as they can manage from the spiral-snouted alembics and blocky green crystals of torbernite that are lined up along her workbench. She beckons you to an array of lenses, suspended in mid-air by a contraption of jointed arms. You peer through a photographic plate, coated with an emulsion of gelatin and silver, into a world of death. A spectacled skeleton chuckles and does a little dance. More cluster at the back of the hall, their hollow jaws gaping in confusion. Beyond them, beyond the walls, an indistinct bone-coloured blur must be the bustle of the esplanade. "Custom-ordered from a faculty in [[Lyon]]," she says. "Competitors to the Lumières. Unusual process lets them glimpse beyond the veil. Bit eccentric, I'll admit. I met one of their agents in [[Strasbourg]] last year, a woman $henchwoman."Belleville Paris, France (set: $savagery to ($savagery+1)) The gangs set upon each other with daggers, pistols, spiked knuckledusters, and bizarre weapons that appear to be a combination of all three. It's not long before the gendarmes show up, and even less long before they and their batons are dragged into it. You're not sure if there were ever supposed to be teams. A woman in a long scarf is taking bets, and you place ten francs on a likely-looking lass who's decimating her opponents with a series of precise slaps and kicks. Street urchins dip handkerchiefs in the blood for souvenirs. A peculiar wooden box is set up on stilts by the roadside, operated by shrouded men with goggles. By feigning interest in the technical details you get them to divulge that they're members of a moving-picture company, capturing scenes of violence for a private commissioner in [[Lyon]]. One of them expresses disappointment that today's work didn't involve any eye-gouging, and hopes the sailors in [[Marseille]] will be better at it.Vienna, Austria-Hungary You recline on a daybed draped in a Persian rug and watch the Alpine clouds drift by through the bay windows of the Berggasse consulting room. The doctor, a stout, owlish man with a neatly-trimmed beard, is seated in a leather armchair across the room, where you can only see him out of the corner of your eye. "Tell me more about this Dracula figure," he says. "How would you describe him? Does he remind you at all of your $victim? When you dream about him, what do you see?" - (click: "describe")[As you speak, you hear the scratch of the doctor's pen. "(either: "A classic","A tragic","An unfortunate","A fascinating","An interesting","An obvious","An archetypal","An extraordinary","A typical") case of (either: "neurotic","hysterical","unconscious","traumatic","pathological","symbolic","subliminal","phallic","anal") (either: "transference","blindness","repression","catharsis","anxiety","wish-fulfilment","fixation","retention","narcissism")," he says. (if: $guilt > $reason)["How, and how often, were you punished for wickedness as a child?](if: $guilt <= $reason)["Would you consent to undertake [[hypnosis|Vienna - Hypnosis]]? I assure you the procedure is perfectly safe."]] - (click: $victim)[(if: $guilt >= $savagery)["How did you feel when you were separated from your $victim's body? Ashamed? Nervous? Excited?"](if: $guilt < $savagery)["The significance of this, in your phantasy, is that he did it //$addendum//. Could it be, on some level, that is precisely how you wanted it?]] - (click: "dream")[(if: $reason > $savagery)["You cannot be serious. Everyone dreams." The doctor seems put out. "](if: $reason <= $savagery)["Full of wolves, you say? A surprisingly common image. ]I recommend that you travel to [[Buda-Pesth]]." He pauses to ash his pipe. "The East has not yet been illuminated by the electric lamp of reason. The inhabitants still pay homage to the creeping superstitions that the ingenuity of Western man has vanquished. Confront your demons. Banish them to the frontiers of the empire of your mind."]Buda-Pesth, Austria-Hungary {(set: $bathory1 to(either:"murdered","abducted","tortured","butchered","seduced","exsanguinated","ate","fell in love with","strangled","drowned","disembowelled","hypnotized","entombed","married","beheaded","deceived","humiliated","robbed","impaled","gutted","flayed","stalked","kissed","romanced","shaved","blinded","removed the tongue of","cut out the heart of","lobomotized","imprisoned","executed","falsely accused","financially ruined","enslaved","stole the fortune of","destroyed the life's work of","bullied","set fire to","cut the legs off","shot","taunted","made you kill","set a deadly trap for","danced with","boiled","mutilated","tarred and feathered","bit","betrayed","destroyed the sanity of","tore out the throat of","kicked","crushed","smothered","crippled","hamstrung","disfigured","broke the back of","made soup out of","pulled out the teeth of","reanimated","abandoned","slaughtered","beat","wore the skin of","minced","bisected","horsewhipped","devoured","liquefied","attacked","chased","cursed","infected","hanged","deboned","poisoned","starved","became","eloped with","squashed")) (set: $bathory2 to(either:"murdered","abducted","tortured","butchered","seduced","exsanguinated","ate","fell in love with","strangled","drowned","disembowelled","hypnotized","entombed","married","beheaded","deceived","humiliated","robbed","impaled","gutted","flayed","stalked","kissed","romanced","shaved","blinded","removed the tongue of","cut out the heart of","lobomotized","imprisoned","executed","falsely accused","financially ruined","enslaved","stole the fortune of","destroyed the life's work of","bullied","set fire to","cut the legs off","shot","taunted","made you kill","set a deadly trap for","danced with","boiled","mutilated","tarred and feathered","bit","betrayed","destroyed the sanity of","tore out the throat of","kicked","crushed","smothered","crippled","hamstrung","disfigured","broke the back of","made soup out of","pulled out the teeth of","reanimated","abandoned","slaughtered","beat","wore the skin of","minced","bisected","horsewhipped","devoured","liquefied","attacked","chased","cursed","infected","hanged","deboned","poisoned","starved","became","eloped with","squashed"))} Behinds Heroes' Square, with its statues of the seven Magyar chieftains, flat-capped workmen are laying down tracks and running wires into the earth. You follow the forewoman into the dripping tunnel, the beam of your lantern startling rats. The clang of driven railspikes fades behind you. The walls of the tunnel are earth, until they're stone. "Medieval," says the forewoman. "Press your ear to it." You hear nothing, at first. Then a high-pitched hissing, almost too faint to make out. Then a voice. "I know you're there. I can hear you breathing. I've grown ever so sensitive." The forewoman silences you with a finger. "I $bathory1 the girls and I $bathory2 the boys. They knew it only for a heartbeat and then their names were forgotten. Was that not fair? What would you trade for-" A muffled thing that might have been a snarl or a sob. "I'm still pretty, you know. [[Let me out|Buda-Pesth - Bathory]]. I'll show you." The forewoman takes you by the arm. It's time to [[leave|Buda-Pesth - Leave]].Genoa, Italy (set: $savagery to ($savagery+1)) A battleship is under construction in the naval yards. You dodge between its ribs. Your enemy's sword clangs against the tempered steel. She is a Redshirt, a veteran of the Expedition of the Thousand, her reflexes honed by street brawls in Palermo and her wits sharpened against the trickery of the Bourbons. You are fighting for your very life. Riveters hurl themselves out of the way as the two of you scramble up the catwalks, striking sparks off one another's blades. You cling to the skeleton of a paddlewheel and it revolves under your weight, allowing you to dodge a killing blow. Your opponent, not to be outdone, follows you down at the end of a length of chain, each link of which is the size of a child's head. You allow her to pursue you into the hull of the ship and step from the shadows, your sword at her throat. She stands proudly, her neck bared, waiting for the killing blow. You hesitate, then lower your sword. She lunges for your heart. You parry, dodge, drive your boot into her chest and send her tumbling backwards into the great iron cavern, bouncing off a girder on her way to the distant earth. Steel-workers make space for the approaching priest. Blood bubbles from her lips as he stoops to give her last rites. What was a priest doing here, so conveniently close? "There is more to this than you know," he tells you. "A theft of terrible magnitude. If you wish to help, one of our agents can meet you in [[Venice]]." Perhaps. You make your own inspection of the body. You saw the priest slip the Redshirt's diary into his pocket, but he missed a silk handkerchief in the corner of which is written the word [[Milan]].Milan, Italy (set: $milantunnel to 1) Milan is starving. Half-naked beggars roam the streets. Hollow-cheeked Anarchists curse the name of King Umberto, and in a taverna by the Naviglio Grande you hear whispers of another attempt on his life. The basilicas echo with prayers for salvation. - (click: "beggars")[An old woman wrapped in a blanket huddles in an alleyway, rattling a tin cup. Her hands are red and curiously striated. You pay no attention until she mutters "$firstname...". You grab the hem of her blanket as she scuttles away and are left with nothing more than a torn swatch of what is unmistakably human skin.] - (click: "attempt")[The last man who tried it is still in a coffin-sized cell on the isle of Elba, riddled with parasites and in such great pain that his eyelids have turned inside-out.(if: $zurichtunnel is not 1)[ You are struck with a violent compulsion to travel north, under the [[Alps|Gotthard Tunnel]], toward cooler and more forgiving climates.]] - (click: "basilicas")[It's beginning to rain. The church you duck inside is, considering the habits of the Italians, curiously empty. Two children play in the aisles, kicking around a skull. It smells distinctly of frankincense. You can't find a priest to return it to, so you wrap it up and mail it to the Vatican with an explanatory note. Two days later, a reply in elegant Papal cursive is slipped under your door. It asks you to meet one of the Church's agents in [[Venice]].]Venice, Italy The Piazza of San Marco is under three feet of water. English tourists cross on elevated walkways, holding up their skirts. The campanile is closed to visitors, and the bricks are visibly crumbling, but that doesn't stop you from lowering your umbrella and ducking inside. You are out of breath by the time you arrive at the top of the wrought-iron staircase. You are either too soon or too late. The cardinal's robes might be dark with water or blood. The gold-masked figure standing over him, its gloves tipped with claws of Murano glass, clinches the matter. At the sight of you it pounces. The claws flash across your cheek, too sharp to cause pain. Blood soaks your collar. You hurl the masked thing off you and it flies across the room, light and resilient as a cat. Its lips are fixed in a vacant smile. Its eyes, black and dead. You cower in a corner, watching it climb lazily to its feet. (if: $savagery < $guilt)[You no longer have the will to resist. The gaze of the mask seems to have hypnotised you. Perhaps, on some unconscious level, you know that this is where you belong. You sag and close your eyes, permitting it to take you. When you open them again the thing has gone. One of the windows is open. Rain spatters across the tiled floor. You can see for miles across the decaying city. A shadow flickers among the baroque spires of the cathedral, and is gone. Was this mercy? You clutch your cheek, knowing it will scar. Dracula's only use for mercy is to sharpen the taste of despair, as chefs in Brittany add salt to caramel. He prefers life to death for only so long as life is crueller. The cardinal's pocketbook contains several pages of notes on the city of [[Agram]]. You suppose you might as well go there. Nothing pleasant will come of staying put.](if: $savagery >= $guilt)[You run towards the creature. It tilts its head to the side in curiousity, faintly grateful that you've saved it the trouble of coming to get you. Its claws flex at its sides, eager to welcome you into their cutting embrace. You leap across the shaft that cuts through the centre of the tower and grab the rope attached to the striker of the great brass church bell that hangs over both of your heads. The chimes are devastatingly loud. You cling to the rope for dear life, resisting the urge to clap your hands over your ears and plunge to an unheroic death. The thing's claws shatter, one by one, followed by its gilded mask. You avert your eyes from its face. There are some things humanity was not meant to see. The orifice that serves it for a mouth contorts in a silent howl, inaudible over the clamour of the bell. It claps its hands, almost comically, to the places where ears ought to be. Its skin is bubbling, subliming into smoke. In moments it is nothing but a simple black robe, a lumpy brown-paper package and a drift of foul-smelling dust, lying in a forlorn heap on the floor. The cardinal's pocketbook contains several pages of notes on the city of [[Agram]]. The package contains bones, and an address in the Dalmatian port of [[Spalato]].]Zurich, Switzerland (set: $zurichtunnel to 1)(set: $reason to ($reason+1))(set: $guilt to ($guilt+1)) The wings of the sparrow are held by brass pins to the workshop bench. Its eyes roll in fear. Its heart shivers in its chest at a rate of exactly 7.6 beats per second. The old man plucks it out, wielding his tweezers with infinite dexterity, and fixes it into a ring of flexible steel. He holds it up for you to see. As the heart pounds the steel expands and contracts minutely. When he slots it into the watch, a mechanism converts each pulse into the revolution of a gear. "No escapements or mainsprings," he says. "No more winding. All you have to do is feed the sparrow." He unpins it and sets it on its feet. It hops around the table, clipped wings fluttering, unable to take to the air. He offers it some birdseed and allows it to calm down. "I have a couple of clients in [[Munich]], but the real market is Italian. (if: $milantunnel is 0)[Couriers take them by rail under the [[Alps|Gotthard Tunnel]]](if: $milantunnel is 1)[I don't suppose you'd - no? Alright, then]."Agram, Austria-Hungary (set: $guilt to ($guilt-1)) You pass under blue-domed gates, between ivy-clad pillars, and enter into a field of blackened angels, their features smoothed by time. The cemetery looks much older than its twenty years. You'd expect medieval kings to be buried here. The liquorice farmer, in her wide-brimmed hat and furry trousers, takes you by the arm and guides you wordlessly to the folklorist's grave. The inscription says something about the flowers of Illyria. The two of you begin to dig. The corpse is swollen and ruddy, its skin translucent and tight as a drum. When you puncture its chest with the first hickory spike blood gushes forth as if from a Texas oilwell. The spike goes flying from your hand. The corpse's eyes pop open and it begins to scream. Fortunately, you have more spikes. Afterward, you go through the folklorist's papers. The locations of correspondents jump out. A doctor in [[Vienna]], an actor in [[Buda-Pesth]]. He documented his transformation carefully, and seems to have attracted no shortage of interest. The handwriting of the woman $henchwoman is familiar to you from the trail of paper she's left across Europe, and you recognise it in a letter from [[Belgrade]].Spalato, Austria-Hungary A sphinx looted from the tomb of Thutmose III, one eye scratched out by vandals, watches over a meeting of (hook: "smugglers")[smugglers] in the tunnels that run beneath the Palace of Diocletian. You lurk behind a pillar, pistol drawn, until they come to a decision and go their separate ways. - (click: "vandals")[(set: $savagery to ($savagery+1))The youngest smuggler, a girl of fourteen in an embroidered jacket, takes a chisel from her pocket and approaches the sphinx with an air of determination, as if contemplating some vital and unpleasant task. You step out and level your pistol. Some part of you enjoys the terror in her eyes. She was put up to it by a woman $henchwoman, a patron of the smugglers, who departed yesterday for [[Sarajevo]].] - (click: ?smugglers)[(set: $guilt to ($guilt+1))You follow the eldest smuggler, a woman of seventy with a fez and jutting jaw, to the docks, where you spy them unloading a huge wooden crate from a ship named the //$ship//. Once their work is done, somebody lights a fuse and they all scamper to a safe distance. There's a dull thud from below decks and an orange glow from the portholes. Seems Dracula won't be needing that any more. It's not until you hear the guttural screams that you understand the crew are still on board. Barricaded in the hold, by the sound of it. You'd stay, to rescue and interrogate them, but the smugglers are slipping away. You follow them until you're certain that their cart, loaded high with animal dung to prevent any close examination, is taking the north road for [[Agram]].]Belgrade, Serbia (set: $guilt to ($guilt+1)) The woman $henchwoman is picnicking in the Kalemegdan Park with a Russian diplomat, a French cinematographer and an officer of the General Staff. Toast points are dipped in pâté and tea is poured from a samovar. The officer's handlebar moustache is flecked with crumbs. You lurk. You wait until she excuses herself to visit the public facilities. Then you step out from behind a tree and shoot her in the throat. She looks at you, stupefied, her expression totally blank. Then she collapses. You take her purse. You don't want this to look political. The corner of an envelope juts conspiciously from inside. You don't have time to read it until you're safely ensconced in your hotel room, watching military police in longcoats and black shakoes prowl the streets. It's addressed to you. "$firstname, I congratulate you on your efforts to thwart me. They have been as noble, and as amusing, as those of the little Dutch boy with his finger plugged in the dike. Of course, boys who try that in the real world drown. Apis knows that Draga wants my head. He is correct, but not for the right reasons. He believes that she is a puppet of Franz Josef, who in turn works for - this is ever so funny - the Jews. He has been wavering, but he will take my death as a sign to act. He loves me, the poor creature. He does not know that my heart belongs to Dracula. I suggest you flee the city. Any direction will do. If you go to [[Klausenburg]], try the stuffed eggplant. Sooner or later, however, I expect you will find yourself in [[Hermannstadt]]. When you do, try to remember that you chose this path. You could always have turned away. I am not in the habit of signing my real name to letters. You may know me in death as you did in life. Best of luck from the woman $henchwoman."Cologne Cathedral Cologne, Germany (set: $guilt to ($guilt+1)) You're certain. The gargoyle is your $victim, imprisoned in stone. You try to scramble closer, clinging to a piece of the original thirteenth-century scaffolding, and discover that it's rotten. You wake, dizzy and nauseous, in a gutter by the edge of the Rhine. You are somehow, horribly, still alive. You have a vague memory of a swooping black figure and an inhuman voice cackling with awful delight. A word lingers in your memory. [[Munich]]. You have learnt one thing about Dracula. He wants you alive.Old Port Marseille, France (set: $savagery to ($savagery-1)) A couple of befezzed zouaves loiter by the docks, having nothing better to do with their leave but pester honest travellers. You politely disdain an invitation to fight one. There's the //$ship//, looking no worse for the long voyage down the Portuguese coast and through the Pillars of Hercules. Her sails are furled and you can't see any crew. You check the port register and find an ink-smeared entry for a huge wooden crate, dutifully taxed and stamped. Dracula is destined for [[Lyon]].Chateau d'If Marseille, France (set: $guilt to ($guilt-1)) The dinghy abandons you on the coast of the isle of If, a low-lying brown hillock in the Marseille harbour. The walls of the Renaissance castle are crumbling and riddled with holes. It's an easy task to sneak in under the eyes of the red-trousered zouaves who patrol the battlements. You find the prisoner chained to the floor in a huge, windowless cell that once held thirty or forty commoners. (if: $savagery >=3)[The chains are so old and rusty that you can snap them with your bare hands.](if: $savagery <=2)[You pretend to be a tourist, get a guard talking about her adventures suppressing rebellion in Madagascar and liberate a manacle key from her back pocket.] You can see in her eyes that she wants to thank you, but the iron mask renders her dumb. (if: $key is 0)[The two of you part ways on a distant beach. The grille over her mouth prevents her swallowing anything but gruel, and that with difficulty, but you suppose it'll do until she can find a willing blacksmith. She refuses, in mime, any further offer of help. You interrogate the Touareg and discover that the woman $henchwoman said something about [[Lyon]].](if: $key is 1)[(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1))Her voice emerges in a rusty croak, weak from years of disuse. She has been imprisoned for years in the pestilental colony of Devil's Island, for a crime too sickening to repeat and which, she swears, she did not commit. Her stories are of backbreaking labour in waist-deep water, of shark-infested seas and oubliettes too small to either stand or lie down, of a stockade in a cavern where traitors and anarchists were left every night to suffer the caresses of huge bloodsucking bats. "I was brought here," she says, "as a demonstration. Of what man can achieve when he puts his mind to it. Of the industrial possibilities of the coming age." The woman who accused her still lives in Paris. "Do not follow me," says the prisoner. "Go to [[Genoa]] instead. I believe you will find your quarry there. And nobody should be witness to what I must now do."]Baden-Baden, Germany (set: $reason to ($reason +1)) Neurasthenics, sufferers of gout, and the merely bored all come here to simmer in the hot springs and fritter their time away at the casinos. An Orthodox church is being erected for the son of a Moldavian prince whose body was found, floating face down, in one of the bubbling pools, with several small holes in his neck. The water was pink with his blood, which had all been removed from his body by some arcane process involving an anticoagulant and a lancet. The manufacturers of the former are [[Zürich]]-based, and disavow all knowledge.The Orient Express, Germany Most of the passengers here came aboard in Paris, and they look askance at this stranger in their midst. The last-minute ticket cost you a staggering sum. It was wasted. You have checked every inch of the train and Dracula is nowhere to be found. This doesn't surprise you. As you pulled out of Strasbourg you glimpsed, waving at you from the platform, a woman $henchwoman. Your ticket is paid for through to Constantinople, though you can't imagine you'll make it that far. You consider getting off at [[Vienna]], but with that much money invested you might as well [[stay aboard|Vienna - Express]]. The Orient Express Austria-Hungary You answer the knock on your cabin door half-asleep, wondering who it could be this time of night. The answer is no less than thirteen people. Every other passenger in your coach, from a stout-armed matron to a child of six, led by the conductor in her blue uniform and gold-trimmed hat. They are holding letter-openers, sewing needles and straight razors. "Did you think you were going to get away with it?" asks the conductor. You slam the door shut. You hear a rattling. The conductor, of course, has a key. You smash the window with an elbow and look out. The train is going too fast for comfort, and you can't see the ground, but the look in the eyes of the old colonel as he kicks open the door and advances on you with an antique blunderbuss is enough to make the decision for you. "We will find you, you know," comes the call from the train as you hurl yourself into the night. "We will make you pay for what you've done!" You feel a bone in your smallest finger snap as you tumble down the stony embankment and into a field of poppies. Your mouth fills with blood as you bite your tongue. Gravel is embedded in your cheek, and the skin is missing from you in half a dozen places. It'll be a long walk to [[Buda-Pesth]].Ingolstadt, Germany (set: $reason to ($reason+1)) "The university closed in 1800," you are informed by a very short woman with a shock of pale hair. "We were doing some incredible work. Of course, that might be why they closed it." Her laboratory is no more than a backyard shed. Tadpoles circle inside water-filled Leyden jars. Sparks cascade from wire coils and crackle between electrodes. A pot of roses near the door seems none the worse for wear, though you notice some unusual colours. "I've had no luck on my own," she says, giving a toad a few desultory pokes with a trowel. "Should have set up shop to [[Prague]] with the rest of them." You wonder exactly how old she is.Neuschwanstein, Germany King Ludwig II spent every last mark of the Wittelsbach fortune on this ridiculous edifice, less of a castle than a confection. He was declared insane by a psychiatrist, Dr. von Gudden, days before the two of them were found mysteriously drowned in the freezing waters of Lake Starnberg. "...and his ghost," concludes your tour guide, "still haunts these very towers, howling for revenge on his murderers! Ooo!" You look out over the sea of fog and are resolutely unspooked. Dracula seems to have thought so, too. Judging by the guest-book, his party only lingered a day before heading off for [[Vienna]].Gotthard Pass, Switzerland The train crosses the Devil's Bridge, a thread-thin arch across a barren ravine, and plunges into the darkness beneath the mountains. The electric lights flicker and go out. When they come back on, minutes later, you are the only person in the train. You make the rest of the journey in solitude. (if: $zurichtunnel is 1)[Nobody greets you in [[Milan]].](if: $milantunnel is 1)[Nobody greets you in [[Zürich]].]Lemberg, Austria-Hungary (set: $reason to ($reason+1))(set: $guilt to ($guilt-1)) "You'll laugh," says the creature, "but I didn't know my veins still pumped blood." You are sitting in a coffee-house in a handsome white-walled city somewhere in the western Ukraine. The creature has swaddled itself in a cloak to prevent passers-by gaping at its hideousness. You do not think he needs to worry. This is the East. People have seen worse. "I planned to lose myself among the frozen wastes of the North. I struck out, into the wilds of Russia, though as you can see they are not so very wild after all. I procured a sledge and dogs from a seashore hamlet and set forth across the pack ice, thinking I would establish a home at the Pole and make myself a terror to explorers. It was not long before I began to feel cold." "You cannot imagine the feeling. Joy at the discovery my body was still mortal - terror at the realisation of same. I had dreamt myself a thing other than man, ungoverned by the petty laws of biology and morality. It came as quite a shock to learn that, in at least one aspect, they still held sway over me. I turned around and came back as quickly as possible. Not quick enough to save my extremities." He raises his hood so you can see the stump of his nose. "I am more ugly than ever. I find myself taking a queer sort of pride in it." And the relics? "I was fashioned from nameless paupers, criminals buried in unhallowed ground." The creature smiles. For the first time you find his appearance disturbing. "I would craft myself a brother from finer stock. The wisdom of a saint, the ferocity of a dragon. Have you an objection?" Should you tell him that his relics are likely frauds, his dragon-bones whale or some extinguished titan of the Pleistocene? No. Let him have his illusions. He has not so far offered to puncture yours. You ask him about Dracula and he shrugs. "One hears things. You might venture south, through the [[Borgo Pass]]. Myself, I journey into Tartary, into the rustling night of the far Mongolian plain. Mayhap I shall become a Cossack." Vienna, Austria-Hungary You awake from a deep trance with two doctors standing over you. "We do apologize for the deception," says the dark-bearded man. "Few are brave enough to undergo the surgery with their eyes open." "You should feel much better," says the light-bearded man, "now that we have severed the link between your nose and your genitals. No more of this Dracula nonsense. As for your turbinate bone, you shall hardly miss it." There is no mirror in the room. Somehow this seems significant. "We're sending you by train to [[Cracow]]," says the dark-bearded man. "It's a beautiful city, and you deserve a rest. Please, ignore the straps." "They're for your own protection," says the light-bearded man. "In the coming weeks you may find yourself agitated." "Especially when the cocaine wears off," says the dark-bearded man.Klausenberg, Austria-Hungary It's market day, and the streets throng with peasants from the Transylvanian countryside. Székelys with full white sleeves and striped double aprons, Vlachs in round hats and sheepskin jackets, Slovaks with cowboy hats and nail-studded belts. You watch them from the window of the Hotel Royale, breakfasting on maize porridge and eggplant stuffed with forcemeat. - (click: "Székelys")[The old woman crosses herself. "Tis the eve of St. George's day, when the dead walk, and all the evil in the world holds sway! But you should be fine, as long as you don't go to [[Hermannstadt]]."] - (click: "Vlachs")[His joints are knobbled and his back hunched, though he can't be a day over thirty. "Bistritz is lovely this time of year. Please, you must visit. I will take you! Only - do not go to [[Hermannstadt]]. Nothing there anyone ought to see."] - (click: "Slovaks")[(set: $reason to $reason-1)The girl forks the sign of the evil eye at you and runs away.]Borgo Pass, Austria-Hungary You race through the pass, the coachman lashing her horses until they froth at the mouth, the sun about to set behind the jagged peaks of the Carpathians. It's unclear why you need to hurry. [[Klausenburg]] is still miles away.Hermannstadt, Austria-Hungary Hermannstadt seems almost abandoned. Grass spouts between the cobblestones of crooked streets. Watchtowers stand deserted, gables bloom with moss, rose-petals are showered on you from third-story gardens. It is almost totally silent, except for the occasional snatch of some half-remembered German song issuing from an iron-grated window. Streams of water run down the centre of the roads, changing colour with the activities of the neighbours, so you can tell that upriver someone has slaughtered a pig. There are no more trains this far East. A leiter-wagon arrived yesterday, pulled by two enormous coal-black horses, loaded with a huge wooden crate. You find the remnants of the crate in an overgrown paddock behind the inn, next to the remnants of the driver. Both have been smashed to pieces. One road leads south, into the [[mountains|Hermannstadt - Mountains]].Buda-Pesth, Austria-Hungary It's a couple of days later. You're eating chicken paprikash and spaetzle in a pleasant restaurant overlooking the Danube. Your dining companion's appetite is tremendous. "Some nights to encourage me," she says, her lips smeared with orange sauce. "Others to mock me. Tell me of all the wonderful things I was missing. I am eager to see what you have made of this 'America'." She swallows a dumpling whole. "She had a particular fondness for [[Belgrade]]. Of course, I never saw her face."Buda-Pesth, Austria-Hungary You and the forewoman down foul apricot brandy in a working-class tavern in Angyalföld. She won't clink glasses with you. Some sort of vow is involved. You're not in the mood to force the issue. She knows people who work the cargo trains. She's heard rumours of a huge wooden crate that's on its way to [[Klausenburg]]. You make strained conversation for a couple of hours, then spend the rest of the evening getting blisteringly drunk in silence.Sarajevo, Austria-Hungary Sarajevo, you think, is the only place in the world where one would ever see a Gothic minaret. Swarthy men emerge from public baths, combing water from their black beards. Electric tram-cars rattle through the bazaars, the conductors sipping from brass pots of coffee kept warm atop portable oil-stoves. Veiled women ride bicycles across the Latin Bridge. - (click: "baths")[(set: $savagery to ($savagery-1))You sit, sweltering, in the //hammam// for almost half an hour and come out refreshed in mind and body.] - (click: "bazaars")[(set: $reason to ($reason+1))In a tiny silk-hung bookstall you find a //Rubaiyat// the size of your palm, in the original Persian and illustrated with exquisite miniatures. The owner is a taciturn woman, peering at you from over her gold-rimmed glasses, but she loosens up when she discovers you appreciate poetry. She talks about a splendid dealer in [[Agram]].] - (click: "Latin Bridge")[Your witness, a nose-picking urchin who could be anywhere from six to sixteen, saw the woman $henchwoman give a man with a handlebar moustache a brief tour of the surrounding streets, then squat in the dust near the bridge's north end to draw a diagram. They claim she was headed to [[Belgrade]], though it's not clear how they could possibly know that.]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary On the first day you spot horsemen, silhouetted against a pale sky, cresting a distant rise. A week later you hear the thud of an axe, rhythmic as a drumbeat, and see a figure in a colourful smock crossing a valley far below you. Otherwise the mountains are silent. Eventually, in the distance, you see the [[castle|Dracula - Castle]].The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary It stands atop a precipice, (if: $guilt >=3)[half-buried among the pines](if: $guilt <=2)[looming over a barren slope of scree], (if: $reason >=3)[its terracotta tiles capped with snow](if: $reason <=2)[its towers crumbling and overgrown with lichen]. The lake in the valley below is (if: $savagery >=3)[tossed with waves, even though the wind is still](if: $savagery <=2)[ice-blue and calm as a sheet of crystal]. There's no village here, no goldmine or defensible pass. No reason for anyone to build a castle. You tether your horse, a stringy old mare, in the courtyard. You knock on the door. "Welcome to my house," says Dracula. "Enter freely and [[of your own will|Dracula - Will]]."Dracula's Castle The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary {(if: $guilt >=3 and $reason >=3 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "obey")] (if: $guilt >=3 and $reason <=2 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "join")] (if: $guilt >=3 and $reason <=2 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "die")] (if: $guilt >=3 and $reason >=3 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "marry")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason >=3 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "take")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason <=2 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "go mad")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason <=2 and $savagery <=2)[(set: $choice1 to "forget")] (if: $guilt <=2 and $reason >=3 and $savagery >=3)[(set: $choice1 to "kill")] (set: $choice2 to (either: "obey","join","die","marry","take","go mad","forget","kill")) (if: $choice1 is $choice2)[(set: $choice2 to "leave")] (if: $choice1 is "obey")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Obey me|Dracula - Obey]]")] (if: $choice1 is "join")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Become my apprentice|Dracula - Join]]")] (if: $choice1 is "die")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Die|Dracula - Die]]")] (if: $choice1 is "marry")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Marry me|Dracula - Marry]]")] (if: $choice1 is "take")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Take my place|Dracula - Take]]")] (if: $choice1 is "go mad")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Go mad|Dracula - Mad]]")] (if: $choice1 is "forget")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Forget me|Dracula - Forget]]")] (if: $choice1 is "kill")[(set: $choicetext1 to "[[Kill me|Dracula - Kill]]")] (if: $choice2 is "obey")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[become my slave|Dracula - Obey]]")] (if: $choice2 is "join")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[become my apprentice|Dracula - Join]]")] (if: $choice2 is "die")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[die|Dracula - Die]]")] (if: $choice2 is "marry")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[become my bride|Dracula - Marry]]")] (if: $choice2 is "take")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[take my place|Dracula - Take]]")] (if: $choice2 is "go mad")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[go mad|Dracula - Mad]]")] (if: $choice2 is "forget")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[forget I ever existed|Dracula - Forget]]")] (if: $choice2 is "kill")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[kill me|Dracula - Kill]]")] (if: $choice2 is "leave")[(set: $choicetext2 to "[[leave this place and never return|Dracula - Leave]]")]} "You want to know why I $tragedy your $victim," says Dracula. The two of you are (either: "seated at opposite ends of a very long dinner-table","standing atop a ruined tower, under the cold stars","drinking brandy before a roaring fire","strolling the catacombs, deep below the earth","playing at chess in a dust-choked library","admiring an art collection that would be the pride of any palace"). "I could say that it amused me. I could say that they deserved it. I could say that you deserve it. None would be the whole truth." He mops his lips with a silk handkerchief. "I can offer you two choices. $choicetext1, or $choicetext2." The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary You scuttle down candlelit corridors, a hunched creature, your back bearing the scars of the lash. Your master's words still hang in your ears. You could no more disobey them than you could, by concentration, stop your heart. In one knobbled fist, you clutch a bouquet of purple flowers. In the other, a train ticket, a photograph and a name. You leave by the servant's exit. You know to check every week for further instructions by telegram. Your nag waits, ribs shuddering, to take you back into the civilised world. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary Dracula's library holds books that any civilized person would burn. You learn to brew thunderbolts, conjure whirlwinds and tame the dragons of the clouds. You study the hierarchy of demons, the seventy-two princes and presidents of Hell, who may be bound to sow discord among allies and corrupt the dignity of offices. You discern the nature of light and the secrets of the atom. Nothing is forbidden to you. It all seems to take years. Yet you return to London before the seasons have changed, fitter than you left and with a definite twinkle in your eye. An acquaintance comments, with an edge of concern, on your change in demeanor. You deflect the question with a smile and begin to plot the end of her career. London will look very different in a couple of years. Dracula has made some recommendations. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary Being $tragedy is somehow even more painful than you imagined. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary Dracula's guests, seated to the right of the aisle, are a curious assortment. Crook-fingered lepers, barefooted tramps, dashing young officers and things that snuffle and whine beneath shrouds of hemp. The pews to the left are empty except for a single figure, seated in the farthest row. Your $victim is dressed in their finest clothes and not a hair on their head is out of place. You cannot meet their eyes. The cross that hangs over the altar is upside-down. Appropriate, as the officiant is the Devil. The passages he reads from a small black book are unlike no Bible verses you have ever heard. You close your eyes as you recite your vows. "You may kiss the bride," says the Devil, and you turn up your lips to be kissed. Dracula takes you by the chin and turns your face aside. He does not care for your lips, you realise. He cares for your throat. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary Somebody knocks on the door to your castle. Their horse, a stringy old mare, is tethered in the courtyard. "Welcome to my house," you say. "Enter freely and of your own will." [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary A lamb's gotten stuck in a roadside ditch. The shepherd couldn't hear it bleating. The meat's rotten, but the maggots infesting its eyes are fresh. You're searching for the juiciest one when a shadow falls over you. Can't be a villager. They've learnt to give you a wide berth. Look up. It's your $victim. They're almost in tears. "$firstname," they say. "It's time to come home." Your hand closes round a sharpened stone. This is another of Dracula's tricks. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary You're whistling a merry tune as you ride down out of the mountains, a brace of pheasant slung over your shoulder. This expedition was exactly what you needed. Solitude, exercise, the bracing air. You wave to a peasant, picturesque in her leather slippers and flower-patterned shawl, and are greeted with a gaptoothed smile. The Balkans may be rustic, but the scenery's marvellous and the people have hearts of gold. It's a pity you have to return to London so soon. You're already making plans for next year's holiday. Maybe, if it's not too crowded, Cairo. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary You're expecting a trick, some way for him to turn it back around on you. Maybe he will rise from the grave and laugh. Maybe this is exactly as he'd planned it. If there is, you don't see it. Your knife sinks into his heart. His flesh offers no more resistance than you would expect from the flesh of an old man. A tiny amount of blood, far less than you'd expect, blooms around the handle, staining what was once a very nice shirt. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't scream. He doesn't thank you. All he does is die. You leave before the castle can crumble, though when you look back it's still standing. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]The Carpathians, Austria-Hungary You ride south through Kronstadt and Bucharest. The beauty of the valleys, the wool-clad peasants and the groves of orange and oleander, does not interest you. You keep your eyes fixed to the road. At the Black Sea port of Varna you take a position on a merchant steamer and chart your course, by way of Istanbul, Athens and Naples, to London. You lied to Dracula. To leave the castle, yes. That was easy. The hard part is never to return. [[PLAY AGAIN|London]]