Op één scherm stond het afgelopen bijna-jaar een venster open met Antimatter Dimensions.

Niet meer.

Uitgespeeld.

Gedaan.

Oef.

Het doet raar, begrafenis na begrafenis alsmaar minder familie herkennen, wegens mensen die er niet meer zijn, en mensen die er wél zijn die ik nog nooit gezien had.

Brr.

Ik dacht, ik laat twee ChatGPT’s eens met elkaar interactive fiction spelen. De ene is de speler en kreeg de instructies in de handleiding van een Infocom-game, de andere kreeg gewoon de boodschap dat hij een Infocom-game is en dat ik (eigenlijk de andere ChatGPT) instructies ga geven.

⁂

> LOOK

You find yourself in a dimly lit study. Dust motes dance in the narrow shafts of sunlight that pierce the heavy curtains on the east wall. To your right, there’s a sturdy oak desk, scattered with parchment and an inkwell. An unlit fireplace dominates the west wall, with two high-backed chairs facing it. On the north wall, you see a tall bookshelf packed with old books and a closed wooden door with an ornate handle. A single portrait hangs on the south wall, showing a stern-looking man with a beard. Your footsteps echo softly on the wooden floor.

Exits are to the north through the door.

> EXAMINE PARCHMENT

You approach the oak desk and pick up one of the parchments to examine it more closely. The paper is yellowed with age, and the ink has faded in places. It appears to be a letter written in a delicate, flowing hand:

“Dearest Eleanor,

I have discovered the means to unlock the secret chamber. The key lies not in physical form but in the sequence of melodies from our shared past. Remember the song our mother used to hum? The notes shall reveal the way. Guard this knowledge well, for others may seek it.

Yours always, Reginald”

The rest of the parchments seem to be various correspondences and notes, but this one stands out as particularly intriguing.

> EXAMINE PORTRAIT

You turn your attention to the portrait on the south wall. It’s a large, ornately framed painting of a stern-looking man with a full beard. He’s dressed in clothes that appear to be from a bygone era, suggesting he might be a figure from the past. His eyes seem to follow you no matter where you stand in the room, giving the portrait an eerie quality.

Upon closer inspection, you notice a small engraved plate at the bottom of the frame. It reads:

“Lord Cedric Thorne – 1823-1897”

The background of the portrait hints at a grand mansion with a sprawling garden, suggesting that Lord Cedric may have been a person of significant wealth and influence.

As you stare into the man’s eyes, you can’t help but wonder what secrets this room and its former inhabitants might hold.

> OPEN DOOR

You approach the door on the north wall and grasp the ornate handle, turning it gently. The door creaks open to reveal a dimly lit corridor beyond. The walls of the corridor are lined with portraits of various individuals, some of whom bear a striking resemblance to Lord Cedric Thorne from the portrait in the study.

The corridor extends to the left and right. To the left, it seems to end in a staircase leading upwards. To the right, the corridor continues for a short distance before branching off into two other directions.

A faint, cold breeze flows from the corridor, carrying with it the distant sound of a melancholic tune, reminiscent of the one described in the letter.

> LISTEN TO TUNE

You stand still, allowing the distant sound to wash over you. The tune is both haunting and beautiful. It’s played on what sounds like a piano, each note dripping with emotion, echoing throughout the stone walls of the mansion.

As you concentrate, you recognize that it’s a simple melody, repeated several times, but with subtle variations in each repetition. You attempt to commit the sequence of notes to memory, thinking they might be of significance given the contents of the letter you read earlier.

There’s an air of sadness and longing to the tune, and you can’t help but wonder who might be playing it and why.

The music seems to be coming from the right side of the corridor.

> GO RIGHT

You decide to follow the source of the melancholic tune. Turning right, you walk along the dimly lit corridor. The music gets progressively louder, drawing you in with its haunting beauty.

After a few turns and twists, you find yourself in front of a slightly ajar grand double door, from which the music is emanating. Gently pushing the door open, you enter a grand ballroom. The room is vast, with high ceilings adorned with ornate chandeliers, their light dim and flickering. The floors are polished marble, reflecting the few lights in the room.

At the far end of the ballroom, situated on a raised platform, is a grand piano. Seated at the piano, engrossed in playing the tune, is a spectral figure. The translucent apparition appears to be a woman in a long flowing dress, her fingers dancing over the keys with grace and precision. Her face, though blurred, emanates sadness.

The entire scene is eerie, yet strangely captivating. The room is otherwise empty, the sound of the piano being the only evidence of life—or afterlife.

> ASK FIGURE, WHO ARE YOU?

Mustering your courage, you slowly approach the spectral figure at the piano. Each step echoes softly on the marble floor of the grand ballroom. As you near the raised platform, the figure continues to play, seemingly lost in her own world.

Standing just a few feet away, you clear your throat softly and say, “Excuse me, who are you?”

The music comes to a sudden halt. The spectral figure slowly lifts her head to meet your gaze. Her features, though translucent and ethereal, are undeniably beautiful, tinged with a deep sorrow.

“I am Lady Eleanor,” she responds, her voice a whispery echo that seems to drift through the air. “Once the mistress of this mansion and Reginald’s beloved sister. It is my memories and longing that bind me to this place.”

Her fingers absentmindedly touch the piano keys, producing a few soft notes that seem to mirror her melancholic mood.

“Why have you come here?” she asks, her gaze unwavering.

Mustering your courage, you slowly approach the spectral figure at the piano. Each step echoes softly on the marble floor of the grand ballroom. As you near the raised platform, the figure continues to play, seemingly lost in her own world.

Standing just a few feet away, you clear your throat softly and say, “Excuse me, who are you?”

The music comes to a sudden halt. The spectral figure slowly lifts her head to meet your gaze. Her features, though translucent and ethereal, are undeniably beautiful, tinged with a deep sorrow.

“I am Lady Eleanor,” she responds, her voice a whispery echo that seems to drift through the air. “Once the mistress of this mansion and Reginald’s beloved sister. It is my memories and longing that bind me to this place.”

Her fingers absentmindedly touch the piano keys, producing a few soft notes that seem to mirror her melancholic mood.

“Why have you come here?” she asks, her gaze unwavering.

> ASK ELEANOR ABOUT SONG

“I heard a haunting tune as I walked the corridors,” you begin, “It drew me to this room. Is there significance to that melody?”

Lady Eleanor’s ethereal eyes seem to shimmer with a mix of sadness and hope. “That song,” she murmurs, “is a melody our mother used to hum to us as children. It’s a tune of love and longing, of memories and the bonds of family. It is also,” she adds with a hint of hesitation, “the key to the secret chamber that Reginald mentioned in his letter.”

Seeing your intrigued expression, she continues, “The secret chamber holds treasures of our family, but more importantly, it contains a locket that I cherished dearly in life. I believe that if it’s returned to me, it may help set my spirit free.”

She gazes at you expectantly, as if hoping you might aid her in this quest.

> ASK ELEANOR, WHERE IS THE SECRET CHAMBER

Eager to assist, you ask, “Lady Eleanor, where is this secret chamber?”

She seems to ponder for a moment before speaking, “The entrance to the secret chamber is in this very ballroom, hidden from plain sight. To reveal it, one must play the melody of our mother’s song on this piano, but it must be played in the correct sequence.”

She then adds, “I can guide you through the melody, but my ethereal form cannot produce the necessary pressure on the keys. Would you be willing to play the notes as I guide you?”

She looks at you with a mix of hope and desperation, clearly yearning for the closure that retrieving the locket might bring.

> PLAY MELODY

You nod in agreement, ready to help. Taking a deep breath, you position yourself on the piano bench beside Lady Eleanor’s spectral form.

She begins to guide you through the sequence of the song, her translucent fingers hovering above the keys to indicate the notes you should press. “Start with the middle C,” she instructs, and then gently guides you through the haunting melody, note by note.

As you play the final notes, there’s a soft rumble, and a section of the ballroom’s marble floor slides away, revealing a hidden staircase leading downward into darkness.

The spectral figure of Lady Eleanor gazes down at the now open entrance with a mix of hope and trepidation. “That’s the way to the secret chamber,” she whispers. “Please, find the locket. It holds the key to my release.”

With the path now open, you face a new decision.

You nod in agreement, ready to help. Taking a deep breath, you position yourself on the piano bench beside Lady Eleanor’s spectral form.

She begins to guide you through the sequence of the song, her translucent fingers hovering above the keys to indicate the notes you should press. “Start with the middle C,” she instructs, and then gently guides you through the haunting melody, note by note.

As you play the final notes, there’s a soft rumble, and a section of the ballroom’s marble floor slides away, revealing a hidden staircase leading downward into darkness.

The spectral figure of Lady Eleanor gazes down at the now open entrance with a mix of hope and trepidation. “That’s the way to the secret chamber,” she whispers. “Please, find the locket. It holds the key to my release.”

With the path now open, you face a new decision.

> DOWN

You cautiously approach the revealed staircase and start your descent. The steps are made of stone, cold and slightly damp underfoot. A soft glow emanates from torches on the walls, casting flickering shadows as you go deeper.

After what feels like a few minutes, the staircase ends, opening into a small, circular chamber. The walls are lined with alcoves, each holding various artifacts, from ornate vases to old tomes. In the center of the chamber, on a pedestal, is a silver locket, its surface catching the torchlight and glinting softly.

As you approach, you notice the locket is adorned with an intricate design of intertwining vines and a single rose at its center. It’s slightly open, and inside, you can glimpse a faded portrait of a young woman, her features eerily similar to Lady Eleanor’s.

The room is silent, save for the distant echo of your footsteps. You feel a sense of urgency, recalling Lady Eleanor’s plea for the locket’s return.

> TAKE LOCKET, UP, GIVE LOCKET TO ELEANOR

With a sense of purpose, you gently pick up the silver locket from its pedestal, feeling its cold, solid weight in your hand. Clutching it tightly, you quickly retrace your steps, ascending the stone staircase back to the ballroom.

Upon entering the grand room, you find Lady Eleanor still by the piano, her ethereal form shimmering in anticipation. As you approach, her gaze locks onto the locket in your hand.

Without a word, you extend the locket towards her. She reaches out, and surprisingly, her spectral fingers make contact, enveloping the locket. As she holds it close to her, a soft, radiant light emanates from the artifact, illuminating her form. A serene expression crosses her face.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice filled with gratitude and relief. “With this, I can finally find peace.”

Slowly, her form starts to dissolve, the radiant light intensifying until it fills the entire ballroom. When the light fades, Lady Eleanor is gone, leaving you alone in the silent room with the piano.

The heavy weight of the mansion’s history seems to lift, replaced by a feeling of calm and resolution. You’ve played a part in laying a restless spirit to rest.

> END GAME

The screen fades to black, and in golden letters, the words “THE END” appear. Gentle, triumphant music swells in the background.

Score: 100/100

Achievements Unlocked:

• Master Pianist: Successfully played the haunting melody.
• Spirit Soother: Helped Lady Eleanor find peace.

Thank you for playing! Would you like to restart, restore a saved game, or quit?

> Options: [RESTART] [RESTORE] [QUIT]

⁂

OK, leutig. Leesbaar geschreven, iets van atmosfeer, maar niets van puzzels of zo. Ik ga vragen wat hij er zelf van vindt: “Please evaluate this short game as interactive fiction. What do you think could have been better, from a game design standpoint?”

Certainly! Here’s an evaluation of the short game as interactive fiction:

Strengths:

1. Atmosphere and Immersion: The game did an excellent job of setting the scene and mood with descriptive environments, especially the study and the ballroom. This is crucial in text-based games where the player’s imagination is a primary tool.
2. Character Development: The spectral figure of Lady Eleanor was intriguing and evoked curiosity. Her backstory with the song and her relationship with Reginald provided depth.
3. Puzzle Integration: The use of the song as a puzzle mechanism was an excellent choice. It tied together the narrative, the environment (piano), and the character of Lady Eleanor.

Areas for Improvement:

1. Complexity: The game was relatively straightforward. More intricate puzzles, red herrings, or branching paths could provide players with a more challenging experience and add replay value.
2. Interactivity: There was limited interaction with objects and characters. Integrating more items to inspect or manipulate, or having additional characters with their own subplots or information to share, could make the game richer.
3. Consequences: The game could benefit from choices that carry consequences, leading to multiple endings. For instance, choosing the wrong melody could lead to different outcomes, or there could be a time-based element where Lady Eleanor’s spirit becomes more restless if the player takes too long.
4. Backstory Expansion: While the connection between Reginald and Eleanor was touched upon, it could be fleshed out more. Perhaps hidden letters or diary entries could offer deeper insights into their relationship, the locket’s significance, or the mansion’s history.
5. Environmental Interactions: The game world seemed static in places. Having more dynamic elements—like curtains that can be drawn, books that can be read, or hidden compartments—could make exploration more rewarding.

Overall, the game provided an engaging, albeit brief, narrative experience. With some added complexity and depth, it could evolve into a more intricate and compelling piece of interactive fiction.

Author Name

Dat is niet verkeerd gezien. 🙂

Tijd om deze nog eens te beluisteren.

We gingen de Ikeazetel in living meegeven met onze verhuizende oudste dochter. Dat wou zeggen dat wij een andere zetel nodig hadden, en ’t was niet evident.

Eisen van de echtgenote: niet te diep (anders zitten wij daar als oude mensen gelijk kleine kinderen in, met bengelende benen), breed genoeg om op het gemak te liggen naar televisie kijken, moet gemakkelijk zitten, iets anders dan beige of wit of gelijk wat neutraals van kleur. Iets in een hoek met een driezit en een chaise longue, dat past in een vierkant van drie op drie meter. We hebben meer plaats, maar we willen er niet meer aan geven.

Eisen van mij: moet gemakkelijk zitten en mag niet lelijk zijn.

Er was een ahem mindere ervaring, die keer dat Sandra na lang zoeken een zetel gevonden had maar dat ik die (a) ongemakkelijk zitten en (b) schijtelelijk vond, en dat minder dan diplomatisch had gezegd, niet wetende dat er een lange zoektocht was geweest.

Maar hey, we zijn dan naar een zetelwinkel geweest en het heeft geen half uur geduurd voor we het eens waren over een model en een configuratie en een kleur. Het wordt iets blinkend petroleumblauwgroencyaanachtig dat schimmert en verandert van kleur in het licht.

Begin december hebben we hem. Hoezee!

Wel wel wel. Het wordt nog interessant.

’t Is een wreed luxeprobleem, ik weet het, maar ik moet ergens dit jaar nog 18 en een halve dag vakantie opnemen.

Ik had al vakantie op het einde van december genomen, en ik had mij al min of meer voorgenomen om er tien over te zetten naar volgend jaar, maar het wordt wel beslissingstijd, denk ik.

Sandra is met een dochter naar Spanje tijdens de herfstvakantie — 30 oktober tot 5 november, zegt dokter Google mij. Misschien dan ook maar thuisblijven? (Bij nazicht blijkt dat ik dan al twee dagen verlof had genomen om de week te hebben.)

Een half uur puzzelen, waarvan het grootste deel opgesoepeerd aan een tekeningetje maken, wordt het denk ik dit:

Grijs is weekend en verplichte vakantiedagen, groen is wat ik al had aangevraagd, geel is wat ik ga aanvragen heb aangevraagd.

Pfoei. Een pak van mijn hart.