// AGS TRANSLATION SOURCE FILE // Format is alternating lines with original game text and replacement // text. If you don't want to translate a line, just leave the following // line blank. Lines starting with '//' are comments - DO NOT translate // them. Special characters such as [ and %s symbolise things within the // game, so should be left in an appropriate place in the message. // // ** Translation settings are below // ** Leave them as "DEFAULT" to use the game settings // The normal font to use - DEFAULT or font number //#NormalFont=DEFAULT // The speech font to use - DEFAULT or font number //#SpeechFont=DEFAULT // Text direction - DEFAULT, LEFT or RIGHT //#TextDirection=DEFAULT // // **** GLOBAL MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** My grappling hook launcher, made to look like an umbrella. These windows are all so dirty, it's impossible to see through them clearly. Unless I'm very much mistaken, it's Simone Taylor, television personality. Philip Harty, a rather wild-eyed young man in a leather jacket and khakis. Jim can't be older than sixteen, and he's wearing some mutation of a school uniform. It's a rather cheap, overused metal detector. I can pick any lock in under five minutes with these beauties. It's a well-polished old two-man saw. An old-fashioned miner's pickaxe. It's a very old Victorian-era stuffed bear. It's a length of slim extension cord. An ordinary twig from the garden. A length of wire tied to a stick. A length of wire tied to a teddy bear. A teddy bear tied to a piece of stick with extension cord. Should always carry an emergency lockpick. Conversation is probably not on his mind right now. I'd rather not go toe-to-toe with a machete. He's just like he was in my dream... welding mask, apron, dripping with blood... It's an ordinary old-fashioned welding mask, spotted with blood. A blacksmith's leather apron. The machete is absolutely coated in crimson. A pair of tough, hard-wearing scissors. A thin strip of leather I cut from the apron. The machete has a strip of leather tied to one end. The mask is tied to a strip of leather. The mask is tied to the machete with leather. The heavily decayed remains of Sir Roderick DeFoe's unwanted son. Sorry, not now. Restore Cancel Select a game to restore: Save Type a name to save as: Replace The save directory is full. You must replace an existing game: Replace: With: Quit Play Are you sure you want to quit? I'm not carrying anything. Aren't I already talking to myself? I'm not sure what to do with myself. That's me, Trilby. // **** DIALOG OPTIONS ARE BELOW **** That's all I wanted to know. What do you know about the mansion? How did you come to be here? Tell me a bit about yourself. What happened to your camera crew? See you later. Do you know where the others are? Sleep well? Did you break the lock on the door? So I take it AJ hasn't turned up yet. What do you know about AJ? How're you holding up? That's all. What're you reading, there? Seen AJ anywhere? How're you feeling? See you around. Have you seen the others? Do you know if AJ's turned up yet? What are you doing with that metal detector? How do you know the tomb's there? Can I borrow your metal detector? Finished with the metal detector yet? Are you the one who dug up half the lawn? How're you doing? Someone brought my car into the back yard. What're you doing? Any clues on who did this? Well, catch you later. Come on, Phil, none of us could possibly have killed AJ. You know, your attitude could be the death of us. Feeling any better this morning? Never mind. Could you go and wait for me in the library? What do you think we should do next? Do you want to tag along with me? Have you seen Philip and Simone? Forget it. What have you done with my tie? Where's Jim? You're making a terrible mistake. What makes you think I killed Philip, anyway? He could be in terrible danger. He knows that I'm innocent! If you left him alone, he's already dead. The police will never get in here. The real killer's still on the loose! Haven't you ever watched a horror movie? The real killer tricked me! I was possessed by the ghost! Philip tried to kill me first! Go touch the idol in the trophy room, you'll see I'm not lying. Just go and have a look in the basement. It possessed me just like it did when I killed AJ. It's talking to me right now... I'm delirious with guilt most of the time. I still think I can get rid of the voice, with your help. I don't think Sir Roderick's wife died naturally. I think Sir Roderick had more than one son. Sir Roderick obviously killed Matthew and disappeared. Actually, I'd rather hear your theory. I think Belinda DeFoe gave birth to twins. I think Sir Roderick fathered a lovechild while in Africa. I think Sir Roderick had an affair just before Belinda died. I dunno, what do you think? Obviously, the other boy managed to escape from the basement. Sir Roderick went mad and tried to kill him. Maybe someone found out about him and killed Sir Roderick out of sympathy. I have absolutely no idea. What happened last night, exactly? Could you go down to the trophy room? What am I supposed to be doing, again? Where could the body be? How do I bring his soul back? How do I destroy him? Could you meet me in the trophy room? // **** CONVERSATION MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** So, Jim... Yes? Okay. Not much. We could always just about see the roof over the playground wall. We all used to tell each other it was haunted... Why? Were there any stories or legends attached? Well... A friend of mine used to say a crazy hermit lived there... ...who killed people and ate them alive. Oh, well, I'm certainly reassured. It was so stupid... We climbed over the school wall at lunchtime. It was a dare. We were going to see how long it would take the school to find us. Then we came across this old house... ...and Richard dared me to knock on the door. He bet me a pound I wouldn't do it. My school was like that. Broke my collar bone playing pile-on, once. Shut up, Philip. What happened next? Well... I was about to knock on the door... ...but it opened by itself. I heard Richard dare me to take a step inside. So you did, and the door closed behind you, and it wouldn't open again. ...yeah. Hmm. Your friends didn't call the police or anything? How should I know? I guess they didn't, since nobody came. That was on Wednesday. The school probably know I'm gone, now. I see. Like what? I dunno, where were you before you came here? I was at St. Trinian's Boarding School, not far from here. Been there since I was ten. My parents move around a lot, you see. How old are you now? Nearly sixteen. Mr. Harty? Yes, Mr. Trilby? Righto. Plenty. I read an article in this month's Treasure Hunting Monthly. It was built by some explorer guy, Sir Roger DeFoe or something like that. His wife died giving birth, he and his son went missing some time later... Hell, maybe the article could tell you better than I could. I'll let you borrow it. Well, I came up here to look for some artefacts. And I'm sure you had the full consent of the DeFoe solicitors to do so. Shut up. I'd just heard of some old family tombs somewhere under the building. I mean REALLY old. Anything inside probably doesn't belong to anyone, so finders keepers. I managed to call in a few favours to get over the ravine and the back wall. Then, of course, I couldn't get out again. How many people know you're here? A handful, I suppose. They wouldn't get suspicious 'till I go missing for months, though. Hm. About me? Well, I'm in what you'd call the import-export business. You're a thief. I am not a thief! I'm a treasure hunter. I only take what belongs to dead people. Since they're not using it, you know. Our new friend there, HE'S a thief. True, but also a gentleman. And I only take what I'm sure no-one's using, too. I'm sure that's a great comfort to them. Ms. Taylor? Well, I've heard some pretty disturbing stories about it. Here we go. There've been stories of weird happenings around it for decades. Ever since the first disappearance, of the original owner and his son. People have gone missing in the area around the house more than anywhere else in the country. People from all walks of life. People like us? Er... Don't say that. I only came down here for a documentary. There's been a lot of interest in old ghost stories lately. We figured something on DeFoe Manor would pull in the ratings. And not because it would make interesting viewing? This is why I hate television. Excuse me, I was talking. I arrived here before the camera crew. I was supposed to wait for them... But I couldn't resist just taking a walk around the grounds. Next thing I knew, I was in the back yard. I looked all over, but I couldn't find a way back to the front. It was my own fault, really. Yes, it was. I've no idea. They probably just left when I never showed up. I'm sort of glad they didn't get mixed up in this, too. Quite. Why, that's so sweet of you to ask. We're in for it now. I'm a correspondent for the BBC, but you probably already knew that. I'm afraid I don't watch much television. Oh. Well, I do outside broadcasts for the news, mainly. Sometimes I present documentaries, or variety shows. Whenever I'm needed, really. Very much a Jill of all trades. Hey, Ms. Taylor. Ah, hello, Mr. Trilby. Sure. Well, Philip said he was going into the garden... I don't know where Jim is... And AJ's still missing. Thanks. To be honest, not really. I had this terrible dream... Someone had killed you and Philip and Jim... I remember a huge guy with a welding mask. Let me guess. He took off the mask, and he looked exactly like you. No... Actually, he looked exactly like YOU. What does it mean? Frankly, I don't want to know. No, I just came up here and it was like that. I suppose AJ must have done it. He must have been reading from that pile of books. I don't know exactly, I'd have to ask him. Do you think he found a way out? If he did, he didn't have the decency to tell us. I wouldn't be surprised. He's kind of jumpy. Maybe he just saw an opportunity and took it. Maybe. He refused to tell us anything about himself. Where he came from, why he came here... Not even his full name. Kind of suspicious, isn't it. Do you think he had some kind of agenda? I really wouldn't know. Of course, you're no-one to judge when it comes to withholding names. Heh. Oh, spare me the gallantry. I'm just fine. Jim? Hi, Mr. Trilby. OK, Mr. Trilby. Well, I dunno where Mr. Harty is... But Miss Taylor's up in the library. The library? On the second floor. I think she broke the door open or something. Treasure Island. I found it in the living room. How're you liking it? Well, it's a bit heavy going. I think I prefer Terry Pratchett. Not since yesterday morning. He seemed pretty anxious about something. Did he say why? Just said something about 'getting to the bottom of all this'. Then he left the room and I never saw him again. Okay, I guess. I had this really horrible dream... ...uh... ...but you don't wanna hear about it. You're taking this imprisonment thing very well, I must say. Well, it's not that different to boarding school, really. Except there's no-one to hit you across the knuckles when you talk too much at night. Hey, Mr. Harty. Well, look who's up. Whatever. Last I saw Jim, he was in the dining room. Dunno about the Taylor woman. Not to my knowledge. In fact, I don't think we'll be seeing him ever again. Why not? Well, if this is some kind of Reality TV stunt, He must've been in on it. Maybe he's gone to file reports on how all the hidden cameras are working. I honestly doubt this is the work of the BBC, Philip. Do you have a better explanation? Not yet. Well, then. It's actually part of the plan to get out of here. Oh, good. I've heard there's some kind of family tomb buried somewhere under the grounds. If I can find it, there might be another way to the surface. And I presume any family valuables they have down there would be an unexpected bonus? Hey, judge not lest ye be judged yourself. You're a cat burglar, for god's sake. At least I have a sense of priorities. Well, when you've found an escape route and saved us all, I'll be sure to apologise profusely. I don't. That's what the metal detector's for. How do you know there's anything to detect? It's probably all stone and dusty corpses. Actually, you'd be surprised how much metal can be found in a tomb. Belt buckles, coffin handles, candlesticks... ...gold, silverware... Implying something? Oh goodness me no. Listen, the tomb could be on the other side of the grounds for all you know. Sure, but this is as good a place as any to start. And until I see some compelling evidence for its location, I'll continue my systematic sweep. What do you want it for? I'm not sure yet. Brilliant. Well, I'll give you a shout when I'm finished with it. No, you can have it when I've found the tomb. Yeah. I was trying to dig my way out of this place. But the ground gets really solid two feet down, and the wall foundations go even further. Well, that would explain the holes nearest the walls. What about the others? (sigh) Alright, I was looking for treasure. Happy now? You want some kind of medal? Just professional interest, you understand. Any luck? With treasure? Nah. Found some kind of pipeline running under the lawn, but not much else. Oh, I'm just fine. And when I find the way out, I'll be even better. Simone? Oh, Trilby. How's the ghost hunt going? Sorry, Trilby. I haven't seen either of them since yesterday. Yes, I noticed. It's your car, is it? Did you bring it in here? Trilby, I have no idea where it came from or how. I'm just glad to see a bit more colour about the place. I'm investigating. Like we all should be doing. So, what do you conclude? I found his wallet. He had ID for almost every government agency I can think of. Everything from MI6 to CID. Really? I think he must have been sent to investigate the house. Some kind of secret mission. That's why he never told us anything about himself. It would make sense, certainly. And I'd say this constitutes a pretty spectacular failure of that mission. It must have been a pretty big fellow, I think. Armed with a large slashing weapon, like a machete. And I found a piece of leather. Leather? Like Philip's jacket? No, it wasn't black. Brown leather, like from an old-fashioned blacksmith's apron. There was a torn-off piece in AJ's hand. Fine, thank you. You're not too shaken about AJ? I don't have time to be shaken about AJ. Whoever did this to him might still be around. Once we're safely out of harm's way, then I'll think about being shaken. Hello, Philip. Leave me alone, cat burglar. Hmph. No. All I know is that they're not here bothering me. Why don't you go join them? None of your business. Are those maps of the house? Yes, they're maps. I'm going to find a way out, then I'm going to get away from this madhouse once and for all. And after that, if I ever see your smug pinstripe-wearing face again, it'll be a million years too soon. You wanna bet? You're over six foot. You could've done it easily. Maybe I COULD have, but I didn't. Prove it. You know I can't. Well then. It's certainly going to be the death of you if you don't get out of my face. Oh, I'm just peaches. Now go away. I think we should be doing as much research into the house as we can. I'm just looking for stuff on the house. Dunno. Yes you do, Jim. Because... I want to help... But I'm not sure what I could do. Sure! I promise not to get in the way. Mr. Harty's in the dining hall, shouting at everyone who comes in. Miss Taylor said she was investigating AJ. What do you want now? It was Jim's idea. We took it off you so you wouldn't hang yourself. Why wouldn't you want me to hang myself if I'm such a cold-blooded killer? Jim still seems to think you might somehow be innocent. That boy really admired you, you know. I am filled with shame. I'm sure. Why do you want to know? So you can track him down and kill him? Oh, am I? Why is that? Oh, well, let me see. First Jim and I are attacked by some huge guy in a welding mask and apron with a machete, but manage to get away. Then we come into the kitchen and find a huge guy in a welding mask and apron unconscious next to Philip's corpse. And when we took the mask off, lo and behold, it's you. Look, you've got it all wrong. Oh really? Well then, let's hear your version. I know. Until the police have you handcuffed, we all are. Does he? You almost hacked him to pieces with a machete. I think he'll have taken THAT into consideration. The real killer's still out there. He could be creeping up on you even as we speak... I said SHUT UP! The house will only let people in one by one. And even if an officer does get inside, they can't leave. Will you shut up about your stupid haunted house theory? One good solid battering ram to the front door, they can come and go as they please. Oh, sure. I suppose they knocked you out... ...dressed you in their clothes... ...put the machete in your hand... ...and cleverly hid while we discovered you? Something like that. Oh, please. There's always someone who gets wrongfully accused of the killings. And whoever does the accusing is destined to be horribly murdered next. What the hell kind of fantasy world are you living in? YOU'RE the killer. That's a proven fact. There's no way of denying it. He made me put on his mask and apron! When he attacked me and Jim he was wearing a grey pinstripe suit. I suppose you lent it to him for the weekend? Oh, now THAT impresses me. Did you think of that all by yourself? It's the truth, I swear! Just shut up. Oh, I see. You killed Philip in self-defence. So I suppose when you burst into the living room and swung that machete at Jim and me... ...you were just trying to swat a fly, or something. What a good idea. Why didn't I think of that? Go and check some stupid idol, leaving you conveniently unguarded. Maybe I'll save that for plan B. There's two corpses down there, Sir Roderick and Matthew DeFoe. And take a look through those books I was carrying. There's a ghost here, I swear. Trilby, I am not going to let you drag me into your lunatic fantasy. Just keep your mouth shut. What are you talking about now? The ghost! It talks to me late at night, when no-one else can hear. Trying to make me do things, evil things. ...shut up! It never leaves me alone. I can't sleep. Then I have the blackouts... I'll wake up with blood all over me in an unfamiliar place... It's happened so many times now I can't count them. Shut up! "Kill AJ, kill Philip, kill everyone", it wouldn't leave me alone. I'm warning you! It's saying, "Kill the bitch!" "You can break the window, kill the rotten bitch!" SHUT UP! Keep away from me! I can see the face of every poor innocent I've killed every time I close my eyes... Most evenings I cry so hard I vomit, several times. Sometimes I just want this nightmare to end... If death came right now, I'd welcome it. Oh, god... Simone... Let me have my tie back... Your tie? Please? Oh, to hell with it. Have it, you psycho! M-my help? If you'll just let me out of here... You can help me exorcise it. There's probably some stuff in the library about - No way! You really think I'm stupid? There's no ghost, it's just you. You and your insanity. Sooner the police get here, the better. Mmm... no... I think it's pretty obvious that the ghost is male. Well, it was just a fleeting thought. You wanna know what I think? I don't think Matthew was Sir Roderick's only son. You don't? You read Sir Roderick's diary. Yes! Because of what I read in Sir Roderick's diary... Exactly! No, I don't agree. I think the ghost is Sir Roderick's son. Yes, but Matthew and Sir Roderick were not on bad terms. I agree with that. The evidence doesn't support that. No, I guess it was that African idol throwing me off. I think Belinda DeFoe gave birth to twins the night she died. Oh yes, I see where you're going. Maybe he killed his mistress and his bastard son returned to take revenge. I'm afraid I don't agree. By all accounts, Sir Roderick and Belinda were completely in love. Completely content with each other. An affair seems totally unlikely. So... what, then? I agree he was the one who probably killed Sir Roderick and Matthew... ...but how could he have escaped from that basement? I think someone let him out. Who? Sir Roderick. What? I don't think we should complicate this with third parties. I think Sir Roderick let the boy out. Oh, come on... No, seriously, think about it. I think someone let him out of the basement. Well, me and Miss Taylor were in the living room. Then this big man entered in a mask and tried to kill us with a big knife. We were able to get away, but then we heard Mr. Harty screaming... Miss Taylor told me to wait here. A bit later, she came back and told me that it was you in the mask. I didn't really believe that. She went off to keep guard, or something. Then I went into the trophy room, and found this wooden doll thing on the floor. Next thing I remember, I was in the bathroom, and my head really hurt. Did I really try to kill you? But something did, through you. I don't like this place anymore, Mr. Trilby. You and me both. My head still hurts a bit. And I feel a bit woozy. Apart from that, I'm fine. I have a plan. Well, okay... Trilby? O-kay... I'll feel a lot better once we get out of this madhouse. You need to find the ghost's original body... ...then find a way to bring its soul back to it... ...then destroy the body and the soul together. Right, right. I don't know. You seemed to find the bodies in the basement alright. Maybe you should use the same keen body-hunting abilities you used then. There're bound to be a few texts on the subject in the library. I mean, if I bring him back, he'll be undead. What if it requires some special method? I have no idea. Maybe the summoning books in the library will offer a clue. Do you have a plan? Yes, I've got a plan. Okay then. // **** room1.crm ((No description)) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** I don't have a name. I used to have one, and a lot of people would like to know what it is. Some call me Trilby, and as a name it suffices. I've been called many things. A burglar, a hoodlum, a criminal... I prefer to think of myself as a gentleman thief. And tonight, I've something potentially very rewarding in store. // **** room10.crm (Dining Hall) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** It's a pleasantly professional-quality portrait of a bearded man in a Victorian explorer's outfit. A little plaque at the bottom reads "Sir Roderick DeFoe". It's too big to carry around with me. A nicely varnished oak dining table, probably brought in from Ikea. There's nothing on or under the table. Just some cheap wooden dining chairs. There's a time and a place for rest. Robert Louis Stevenson's seminal classic. I think it's in use at the moment. Jammed shut. It's a portrait of an ageing man in a safari suit. The plaque reads 'Sir Roderick DeFoe'. It's a portrait of a wizened, bearded old man in a safari suit. The plaque reads 'Sir Roderick DeFoe'. It's a portrait of a skeleton in a bloodstained safari suit. The plaque reads 'Sir Roderick DeFoe'. It's a blank canvas. I don't want it. It kind of freaks me out. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Door Window Portrait Table Chair Papers // **** room11.crm (Kitchen) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** A brand new fridge-freezer unit. Just a plain old kitchen cabinet. This cooker looks like it's never been used. Maybe if I had something to cook, but I don't. The kitchen sink, of 'everything but' fame. I don't need to wash my hands right now. There is a perfectly serviceable door. The cabinet contains a large bag of salt. It's too big to carry around with me. But if I ever need lethal quantities of salt, I'll know where to look. Empty. There it is. According to the map, there should be a stairwell right behind this wall. I guess someone bricked over it. I'm not going to be doing anything with my bare hands. I can see stairs through there. They must have been blocked off centuries ago. It's Philip. Someone has run him through with a machete. The worst part of it is, that someone was probably me. I really would rather not touch him. Evidently no-one cares if I starve in this place. Knock, knock. Stand back, Jim. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Fridge Cabinet Cooker Sink Wall Salt Hole Philip // **** room12.crm (Backyard) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** I can just about see the kitchen through there. I think I can see the interior of a toolshed... The walls look very sturdy and smooth. They're quite unclimbable. I could use my grolly, but from what I know of the house, there's a sheer drop on the other side of that wall. I'd rather not risk it. It looks like the pipeline comes away from the pool and goes under the lawn. I wonder where it leads? I think I'd best leave it alone. A large oak tree stands proud beside the house, the branches reaching all the way up to the roof. The water is clean and well-maintained. I don't think this has been swum in lately. I didn't bring my trunks. There's a perfectly serviceable door. It's the ladder leading down into the pool. It's definitely my car. How it got to be here is something I certainly can't explain. It's what remains of that accursed old tree. There's not enough left to climb. A single, dead twig. It must have come off the tree. Don't any windows open in this stupid place? I could use my grolly, but from what I know of this house, there's a sheer drop on the other side of the wall, and I don't want to risk it. Hey! ? Pushing the tree makes the upper branches sway a little. What fun. Is there someone up in the tree? Oh, hi. You're new. Have you come to set us free? No, apparently I'm a prisoner now, too. I'm guessing you must be Jim. What were you doing in the tree? I thought I might be able to get over the wall. But the tree's too far. And there's this ravine just outside the wall, too. So I understand, yes. Philip wants us all to meet up in the lounge. Oh, OK. I'll head there now, then. I'm not that far gone. Locked. The water is deep, and smells strongly of chlorine. There is a blurry shape visible in the water, but I can't tell what it is. Perhaps if the pool were drained... I can track where this pipeline leads with the metal detector... Are you going down there, Mr. Trilby? Coming? Ah... no, I think I'd rather sit this one out. I'll go do some more research in the library. Well, whatever you want. What's this? I just found it out here like this. Do you know whose it is? It's mine. Did you bring it in here last night, or something? Of course not. It was in the front yard, and there's no way into the front yard. Maybe someone's trying to help us. I'll go and find the others and let them know about it. Why did we cut the tree down, Mr. Trilby? I'm not exactly sure. I know it makes me feel better. Where's Simone got to now? I've got to get her and Jim to believe me about the idol... There's nothing else in the car, and not much point in driving it when there's nowhere to drive to. Great! My lockpicks are here. They must have fallen out of my pocket while I was getting out of the car. I'll hide an emergency pick in the lining of my tie, like I usually do. There we go. The door is already unlocked. Jim, give me a hand with this. This is not a one-man job. Pick up sticks. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Pipeline Ladder Tree Water Car Stump Twig // **** room13.crm (Lawn) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Very tall, very smooth, very sturdy. I can't climb them. Someone's done a real number on this lawn. Digging their way out? No... it seems more like they were looking for something. I don't want to get dirt under my fingernails. It's a small mound of dirt which the pipeline under the lawn is apparently leading to. It's a small metal panel with a single, unmarked red button. I could use my grolly to get over the walls, but I understand there's a ravine on the other side. I'd better not risk it. And what have we here? Some kind of button? Philip's labourings must have covered it up. The button seems to be stuck. Well, that didn't seem to do anything. The trail ends here. I wouldn't know where to begin. I need a starting point. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Lawn Dirt Panel // **** room14.crm (Library) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Evidently, someone's been doing a little research here. I can't think of a use for any of these books at the moment. The 1988 edition of the Encyclopaedia Brittanica, with Wagner to Woodlouse missing. A sunbleached skull, probably placed here to add a gothic ambience. Delia's How to Cook series. Interesting. A couple of binders containing old architectural plans for DeFoe Manor. A collection of old road maps and atlases, probably tragically out of date. This shelf is full of nothing but photo albums. Historical texts on most of the really well-known noble families. A complete unabridged Oxford English Dictionary. These don't come cheap. Lovingly bound textbooks on gardening. Books on the occult? No doubt interesting bedtime reading. Books on photography, cartooning and watercolouring. Some of P.G. Wodehouse's best. Several volumes of something called "The Digest Of The Visual Arts". I don't want the nasty thing. A map is always handy. Hm. 'The History Of The DeFoe Lineage'. That looks interesting. I think it's about time I read up on the DeFoe family. There'd probably be some architectural plans of the building here. There's a book on simple white magic here. This could be what I'm after. A book on black magic. Why not. I could certainly do with a laugh. There must be something about summoning angry spirits in here. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Books Sunbleached skull // **** room15.crm (Map) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** There's DeFoe Manor, with the underground tomb clearly marked as being under the FRONT yard. There's something odd about this map... like there's something missing... No, it's not that... there's something here that doesn't belong. Something I don't recall seeing in the house... // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Exit // **** room16.crm (Pool) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** It's the ladder back up to the surface. Poor mysterious AJ. We hardly knew ye. Now is not a good time to disturb the dead. CHRIST! Oh... christ... This is definitely the man I met on the landing, presumably AJ. Looks like someone tied him to an iron hook at the bottom of the pool. But I think he was dead before then. His throat's been split open by some large edged weapon... God, the stench... I've got to find the others. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Corpse // **** room17.crm (Shed) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** I can see my car from here. I wonder what rare delights await within. An empty workbench is like an empty mind. It's one of those two-man wood saws. It's a pickaxe, and god only knows what it's doing here. The cupboard is bare. It's my favourite cornflower blue necktie. It's locked. God knows where they found the key. Oh, god, my head... What... What the hell happened last night? I remember... ... Oh god, Philip... Did I kill Philip? I don't remember anything! Last thing I remember is putting my hand on... ...that idol! I've got to warn the others. It's stuck shut. Hello? Is there anyone out there? Quiet. Is that you? Yes, I'm keeping guard. You killed Philip! Don't even try to deny it! I did? Don't play games with me. I'm keeping guard here until the police get into the grounds. Then I'm handing you over. You still there? It won't answer me. I'll just slip it on... ...and here's my emergency lockpick. See, this demonstrates the importance of forethought. There we go, unlocked. It's already unlocked. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Cupboard Workbench Saw Pickaxe Tie // **** room18.crm (Roderick's room) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** This must be the room Clarence DeFoe had picked for himself and his wife. A fairly understated nightstand. I'm not sure I would feel right sleeping in a dead man's bed. Funny, there seem to be some little scratches on the wall just under the window. They don't look like they were made by human fingernails. I can see the tool shed from here. According to the front cover, this is the diary of Sir Roderick DeFoe, circa the early 19th century. There's nothing in the wardrobe but that little book. There's nothing in the wardrobe. A rather nice piece of Victorian furniture. Well, what do you know, it opened. Of course, since it overlooks the back yard, this doesn't help me much. What're you doing, Mr. Trilby? Just popping out for some fresh air. Why don't you wait for me in the library? // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Wardrobe Bed Nightstand Open window Scratches Book // **** room19.crm (Ledge) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** The roof is tiled in expensive red slate. I'm not sure I can reach. There's nothing in that particular area for the hook to catch on. It's a tile that must have come away slightly during the rebuilding. That's the window back into the master bedroom. This window must lead into the other locked room on this floor. It's a very old, very dead oak. It doesn't look like it could support my weight. While I'm sure it would be highly amusing to grolly across the gap and slam heavily into the tree trunk, it would not be a great help. I think I'd rather use the door. I don't think I can reach. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Roof Loose tile // **** room2.crm ((No description)) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** My fence phones me in the middle of the night and asks if I know about DeFoe manor. Apparently, the last of the DeFoe line has obligingly died without heirs, leaving all the family valuables up for grabs. The lawyers have got the place locked up tight, of course, but that's never stopped me before. And the place is, of course, deserted... Yes, this should be a painless and rewarding evening's entertainment. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** // **** room20.crm (Matthew's room) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** A rather understated nightstand. A single bed. Maybe this room has been left as a spare, or something. I'm not very tired. It's the window through which I first entered this room. I think I'd rather use the doors from now on. An artist's easel with a blank canvas. How philosophical. I don't paint. There's nothing in here but this old diary. It's, for all intents and purposes, empty. It's an identical wardrobe to the one in the other bedroom. And why the hell not. I guess that'll do. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Easel Teddy // **** room21.crm (Basement) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** They're quite firmly attached to the wall. This seems to be the area of ground the Matthew DeFoe-detector was pointing at. Poor young Matthew DeFoe. Cut down cruelly in his prime by... something. Poor old Sir Roderick DeFoe. Probably never stood a chance. It is never wise to disturb the sleep of the dead. Are these manacles? What the hell was this room used for? Matthew DeFoe, I presume. Did Sir Roderick keep him down here? No, he can't have done. There'd have been mention of it in one of the books I read. So... ... hold on, I don't think that's Matthew's hand. There's another corpse down here... It looks like the body of a much older man. You know, I have a feeling this is Sir Roderick. Judging by the ribs, he was killed by a large stabbing weapon... ...but by whom? SMASH! What was that?! Sounded like it came from the other side of the house... I guess this must be where he slept if he was chained to these all the time... Sorry, Mr. Trilby, but I don't like the feel of this place. I'll go wait for you in the library. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Chains Area Matthew Sir Roderick // **** room22.crm (Burning) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Death, of course, comes to us all. It came to Sir Roderick DeFoe and his youngest son in the shape of each other. Was destroying the ghost the right thing to do? It was acting like any other dumb animal. Oh, well. I guess he and his family will have plenty of time to discuss it, wherever they are. As for me... Well, I have no complaints. I've lived a life many would consider out of the ordinary. And I have only one regret. Leaving Simone and Jim to explain it all to the police. That was hardly gentlemanly conduct for a gentleman thief. But I'm sure they'd understand that rushing out into a field full of police officers wouldn't have been a good idea. It's going to be a long walk home. And I have some important matters to attend to. I have to track down my fence, for one thing. Then I have to punch him very hard in the face. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** // **** room23.crm ((No description)) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Ms. Taylor, over here! What the hell's been going on in there? We've been trying to get in there for hours, then suddenly the place catches fire, the doors burst open and you two... Us two? Where's Trilby? I thought he was right behind us... You're saying there's someone else in there? TRILBY! TRILBYYYYYYYYYY! Wait a second... Trilby the cat burglar? Get someone in there, he could be in trouble! Maybe the ghost got him. Ghost? I think we'd better get you two down to the station. But... Trilby! The fire brigade will find him, if he's there. In the meantime, if you'd like to step this way? // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** // **** room3.crm (Study) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** That's the window through which I entered this place. It's an empty glass-fronted cabinet. I can see from here that it's empty. The kind of books the middle class keep around themselves in order to appear learned. I have no interest in these books. An Armstrong 14 steel safe. I can crack these in my sleep. It doesn't seem like a Victorian fixture. Must be an addition made by the most recent tenant. The drawers are all either empty or full of meaningless paperwork. An executive chair, upholstered in black leather. It might be worth a bit of pocket change, but I doubt I could get it down to my car. A rather dreadful portrait of a woman. Early Victorian style, and I notice a wedding band on her finger. This must be the wife of the mansion's first owner. It's too bulky to carry around. It's also unsigned, and therefore valueless. "Bachelor of Law, awarded to Clarence DeFoe by the University of Warwick". Clarence DeFoe was the last owner of the house who recently died, and I think I have just lost whatever sympathy I had for him. They have no value to anyone except the owner, and he's dead. It's empty. And the gentleman thief makes his entrance. It won't open. It must have been jarred shut somehow. Well, I guess I'll have to take the old-fashioned way out. It still won't open. Still empty. Damn. Guess the family solicitor got here first. I'd prefer to leave the same way I came in. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Safe Desk Painting Certificates Open safe // **** room4.crm (Landing) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Oh... no... NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME! STAY AWAAAAAAAAAY!! What got into him? Oh, wait. I keep forgetting I'm wearing this thing. But who the hell was that guy? I was under the impression this house was empty... How is he? He's awake, he's fine. Doesn't remember anything, just like I didn't. Look, I only sort of half-believe this possession thing right now. But in the absence of a better suggestion, I guess I'm going along with it. Have you been going over those books I was carrying? Yeah, and some texts on the occult. Apparently, if we want to destroy this thing, we have to get the spirit back to its old body. That'll make it quasi-mortal. It'd still be dangerous, but not unkillable. We have to find the body, first. And to do that, we have to know who the ghost is. I've been thinking about this, and I have a fairly workable theory. Yes, I've a couple of ideas about it myself. Right, well, the ghost is something to do with the disappearances of Roderick and Matthew DeFoe, right? The deaths and disappearances all started after that. Agreed. So, what do you think? Someone seems to have broken the lock off this door... I think I did it, but it still won't open. There must be a deadbolt on the other side or something. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** // **** room5.crm (Bathroom) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** It's a shower curtain, or rather, a bath curtain. The bath is very clean and white; probably recently used. When I need it, I'll let you know. An immaculate porcelain lavatory. I hate bidets. They're so decadent. It's a sink. Beyond that, there's not much I can say about it. I'm not the sort of cat burglar who leaves the taps running out of sheer malevolence. A very understated mirror. I really could do with a haircut. It's just an ordinary bathroom mat. It's where the evil-twin-detector was pointing. I can't get them out with my bare hands. The final resting place of Roderick DeFoe's murderous younger son. After killing his father and brother he must have been able to stagger all the way up here before dying from his wounds. I can't get to the door while this guy's in the way. Nothing here. How anti-climactic. Father? Jim, is that you? What are you doing, father? Fa - what? Father, no! No, don't! Father! FATHER! Hold on! No-one in here, either. Where the hell IS everyone? Trilby! Simone, before you say anything - I know you didn't really kill Philip or AJ. You do? I figured you were lying to get me away from the shed. I saw him again. The killer! The guy in the welding mask! I spotted him downstairs, but he didn't see me. And I can't find Jim anywhere... Simone, you have to listen to me. The ghost - Oh, shut up about your ghost! This isn't a ghost, it's a regular flesh and blood psycho! Speak of the devil. EEEEE! DO SOMETHING! Oh my god... ...Jim? That's a good idea. Maybe I should wait for the right moment, though. I shouldn't think there's much underneath. I can lever up the floor with the machete... Paydirt. Whoa, these bones are pretty oddly-shaped. I think this kid must have been born deformed... You're coming with me. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Shower curtain Toilet Bath Bidet Mirror Tiles Rug Body // **** room6.crm (Foyer) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** I'd say these must be the main entrance doors. Hopefully they won't object to acting as an exit, too. An ordinary telephone. Perhaps this could be my ticket out of here. Looks like an edition of the local rag. No latch, no chain, no deadbolt. It doesn't even have a keyhole. So why won't the bloody thing open? This is becoming very tiresome. Still locked tight. Line's dead. Somehow I was expecting that. Should always keep abreast of day-to-day events. Oh jesus... No! Philip? Jim?! Oh god... WHO DID THIS? What the... You did this? Stay back, I'm warning you! Who ARE you? Dead? How? Murdered. He was stabbed to death, then tied to the bottom of the pool. Oh, my god... You know what this means, don't you? We are the only ones in this house. The killer has to be one of us. Not necessarily. I don't think any of us could engineer- It was you, wasn't it! You killed AJ and now you're covering your tracks! Philip, you're being absurd. Why would Trilby tell us where the body is if he wanted to hide it? He's covering his tracks. He was the last to arrive, don't tell me you're not a bit suspicious of him. Look, what happened to AJ was a terrible thing. But if we let it tear us apart, we could all go the same way. He's got a point, Philip - You're all in on this together. Philip... As far as I'm concerned, there's no-one I can trust anymore. From now on, it's every man for themselves. Philip! Idiot. He's shaken. We all are. About AJ, I mean. I'm really not sure. I think we're being haunted. Well, at least someone's keeping their head. Look, I'm not exactly in love with such an unscientific idea as a murderous ghost. But nothing other than the supernatural could have engineered this situation. And this house has a bad history. A history I think it's time I started looking into. Well, you do whatever you want. I think I'm going to look into AJ's death with a slightly more sensible attitude. Someone should tell him about AJ. I think he went upstairs. I'll go look for him. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Doors Telephone Newspaper // **** room7.crm (Lounge) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Now, this is what I call an antique. Nice finish. Probably fetch a decent amount if I can find the right dealer. I think finding a way out of this place is higher on my priorities than stealing the furniture right now. A Welsh dresser. How very bourgeois. It's just ornamental. The drawers and cabinets are all empty. Straight from the Argos catalogue to your living room. A nice sit-down can wait for later. It's a rather amateurish landscape. The signature identifies it as the work of Matthew DeFoe, circa 1818. I know some pretty unscrupulous art dealers, but I doubt even they deserve this. Some examples of popular Victorian fiction. I doubt any of these would be helpful. I'm not leaving until I've learnt enough from these people. Ah, our new arrival has graced us with his presence. I expect there's a lot you want to know. Join the club. So, let me see if I've got this clear in my head. You're all trapped in this house by some invisible intelligence. Right. And you can't leave. Nope. And as soon as I entered, I became trapped, too. Pretty much. Why would anyone want to keep us prisoner here? Maybe they're just lonely. No, if they wanted company, they'd have shown themselves. Maybe they have. Maybe one of us is behind all this. Oh, don't be silly. Why would any of us want to trap a load of people here and pretend we didn't? I don't know, do I! I don't speak loony. We mustn't squabble amongst ourselves. Hampered by paranoia and suspicion, we'd only hinder each other. I suggest we assume for now that we four are all innocent. We five, including AJ. Where is he, anyway? I couldn't find him anywhere. I saw him just after I arrived, but he ran away from me. Well, that's odd. Listen, Mr. Trilby. We work as a team in this house, that's how it's been since it started. So, we all have to share information. No secrets. So, why did you come to this house? He's a cat burglar. Why do you even have to ask? Well, I didn't come here to take part in some bizarre Big Brother event, that's for sure. Is there anything you know about this house that would help? Anything at all? I doubt I know much more than any of you. All I know is the last heir just died and it's supposed to be empty. Well, guess you're not much of a help, then. But I suppose an extra pair of hands is always useful. I'm still not completely clear on a few details. Do I get to ask you all some questions, now? Just ask any of us whatever you like. What was that noise? Christ, I've never dreamt so vividly before... It was so disturbing... Sorry, Mr. Trilby... you wanted me to wake you? Did I? You remember yesterday? You told me about AJ, then said you were going to look into the house. Then you asked me to wake you this morning so you could get started. Yes, I remember. Thank you, Jim. Anytime. Mr. Trilby? // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Rocking chair Dresser Settee Landscape Bookshelf Scissors // **** room8.crm (TV Room) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** Ah, a Sony MH400. Some collector's value, here. The MH400 was becoming defunct at around about the same time as the Rubik's cube. It's just a plain old VCR. There doesn't seem to be a tape inside. That is one obscenely overstuffed sofa. I fear it would swallow me whole. It's an extension cord for the VCR. The TV must have another power source. - had no comment at this time. In other news, the society world is still shaken by the sudden death of Sir Clarence DeFoe. Sir Clarence and his wife Julia were found dead last Thursday in DeFoe Manor. Our correspondent Peter Daltry has the report. It was just four weeks ago that this place was a buzz of activity as Sir Clarence DeFoe moved in with his new bride, Julia Swanson-DeFoe. Now, after this shocking tragedy, the place is quiet as the tomb, and empty of human life. Sir Clarence had only proven his attachment to the DeFoe lineage almost one year ago, And since then had been renovating the long-abandoned family mansion in preparation for his marriage. The police have already declared the tragedy as a murder-suicide, although many have insisted that Sir Clarence was incapable of such an act. The debate rages on, while the fate of the house and family fortunes remains unclear. This is Peter Daltry, BBC News, DeFoe Manor. Thank you, Peter. Our top stories again: - minister - I hate television. Our top story this morning: Police are still baffled by the apparent disappearance of television personality Simone Taylor. Ms. Taylor was due to film a documentary on the notorious DeFoe Manor, but her camera crew reported that she never arrived. Police have been investigating the building, but so far have found no way to get inside. The DeFoe family solicitor, Michael Cheasham, has the only key to the building and is currently unavailable. Ms. Taylor's disappearance, coinciding with the disappearance of a local youth from a nearby boarding school... ...simply add to the legend surrounding the mysterious DeFoe Manor. - reports - - this morning. In other news, Michael Cheasham, solicitor of the DeFoe estates, was found dead this morning in his office. Mr. Cheasham was found to have hanged himself, and a ruling of suicide has already been declared. This is the latest in a recent string of deaths and disappearances connected to the mysterious DeFoe manor. A string which began with the murder-suicide of Sir Clarence DeFoe and his young wife, and has seen more recently the disappearance of BBC reporter Simone Taylor. Police were hoping to acquire the key to DeFoe Manor in order to investigate, but the location of the key was known only by Mr. Cheasham himself. Numerous television stars have already come forward to pay tribute to Ms. Taylor as it becomes increasingly apparent that - - disappeared - Something tells me there wouldn't even be that much coverage if there wasn't a celebrity involved. DeFoe Manor. The luxurious country home for a respectable aristocratic family... ...or the eerie home of a dark, ineffable secret? Why HAVE so many people disappeared around the manor? What DID happen to Sir Roderick DeFoe and his teenage son? Is there really some kind of ghostly horror lurking in the basement? All this and more on 'The Haunting Of DeFoe Manor'. Tonight at 9, only on BBC 2. - now - - budget. We can go now to Peter Daltry, reporting from the gates of DeFoe Manor. Over the last couple of hours, a large number of police cars have gathered around the mansion grounds. I'm not exactly sure what the official position is... I have heard reference to a hiker hearing suspicious noises coming from the mansion over the last couple of nights. What's happening there now, Peter? Well, since I arrived here there have been three attempts to break down the front doors, all unsuccessful. I understand the authorities are still waiting to hear word from Michael Cheasham's office about getting hold of the key. DeFoe Manor is of course reported to be the last known location of missing newsreader Simone Taylor... - afraid - It doesn't seem to be picking anything up. Maybe I should try again later. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Television VCR Sofa Cord // **** room9.crm (Trophy Room) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** A stuffed tiger head, mounted in the act of snarling, presumably to justify its death in some small way. This is more like car boot sale material. A VERY old sepia photograph of a man in explorer's gear, standing over a dead tiger. The label reads "Sir Roderick tames a vicious beast". That gun he's holding looks a lot like the one over the fireplace... I'm not sure I want these pictures. They're not a little sickening. This photograph portrays a native bearer in an aggressive stance before a very wary-looking lion. The label reads "Savage versus savage". It's an ancient picture of two men in full hunting gear. The label reads "Sir Roderick and Carstairs". A very old photograph of a small collection of straw huts. The label reads "A native village". Evidently someone fancies themselves as a big game hunter. Or maybe they just fancy themselves. No thanks. I have a thing about lions. So it's not enough to kill animals in Africa, he has to come and do it in Canada, too. The antlers wouldn't fit inside my blazer. It's been lit recently. I think the instinct to stick a hand in the fire was evolved out of us as a species a long time ago. A glass bell jar containing a rather hideous-looking wooden idol. Even if I wanted that ugly thing, which I don't, I'd have to break the glass to get to it. The bell jar has been knocked over and smashed. Looks like the idol is undamaged. It's the floor. Looks like someone's been doing a little tidying up. Ha ha. No. I'm no expert on guns, but I think that's a late-18th-century musket rifle. Standard issue of the British Army of that period. I'm sure I can think of uses for that other than as kindling. Oops. It's about time you showed up! I'm sorry? And well you should be! I've been stuck in this house for days. Where's the way out? I'm sorry... I don't understand. You are the guy who owns this place, right? Er, no. So how'd you get in here? Er, a window on the second floor. Is it still open?! No... no, it jammed shut. Well, looks like the house has a new guest. I hope no more turn up. We've only got five chairs. If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do. Wait a minute! Oh, I beg your pardon. Harty's the name. Philip Harty. Call me Phil. And you are? Trilby. Mr. Trilby, I'm afraid you are now a prisoner. Like me, like everyone else in the house. A prisoner? Don't ask me why, but once you get in, the house won't let you leave. I've tried all the doors and windows, none of them open. The garden wall's unclimbable and I can't tunnel under it. But... why? Who's keeping us here? Beats the hell out of me. Whoever it is, they will certainly not be safe from my fists once I get out of here. So, if there's something you're not telling me, now would be a good time to get it off your chest. I assure you I am completely mystified. So... how many more people are in this place? Only three more. First there's Jim, the youngest, he turned up just after I did. He's a good kid. Second, Simone Taylor. You probably know her off the telly, she's a correspondent for the BBC. She came here to make some kind of documentary, I think, but now she's stuck here with us. Lastly, there's AJ. Skinny bloke with a 'tache, he won't tell us who he is or where he came from. All I know is that he's been here longer than anyone. Nearly a whole week. I think I've already met him... Oh, what a heartwarming story. Anyway, why don't you see if you can track them all down? I'm calling a house meeting in the lounge. Spread the word. I trust you'll enjoy your stay at DeFoe manor, Mr. Trilby. I still don't understand... Just find the others and tell them to meet up in the lounge. We can discuss things properly then. Did someone break that jar? Looks like it. I'll go find a dustpan and brush, or something. This really is a horrendously ugly little wooden idol. Hang on, what are these little stains? The remains are now dressed in the mask and apron. It's all I could find of the ghost's old body. Judging by those little red stains, I think this is what Sir Roderick used to bludgeon his unwanted son to death with. That would explain why touching it causes the possession... Somehow, I don't think I've improved his looks. That doesn't work. I guess this would count as a room of fire and death... Whoa, this thing's heavier than it looks! I'm not carrying this around everywhere. I'd better find a place to put it down. // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** Tiger head Sepia print Lion head Moose head Floor Hearth Fire Bell jar Idol Broken bell jar Remains Rifle // **** room99.crm ((No description)) MESSAGES ARE BELOW **** by Ben 'Yahtzee' Croshaw http://www.fullyramblomatic.com/ AGS engine by Chris Jones Music taken from RPG Maker 2000 Father, why... // **** HOTSPOT AND OBJECT NAMES. THESE ONLY NEED TO BE TRANSLATED **** // **** IF YOU ARE USING A LUCASARTS-STYLE STATUS LINE. **** // **** STRINGS FROM THE GLOBAL SCRIPT ARE BELOW **** I don't see anything important. I can't think what to do with it. It's rude to stare. I'm not in the mood for picking fights. I don't want to get bogged down in conversation. I may need it. They won't go together. scrnshot.bmp I think I've read enough to have some idea of what's going on here. If there is a ghost in this place, there must be some connection to the disappearance of Sir Roderick and Matthew DeFoe. Was Matthew schizophrenic, or something? Did Sir Roderick kill him and disappear to avoid the law? It's odd that neither of their bodies were ever found. If I could find Matthew's body, perhaps I can get to the bottom of this. Maybe there's a book or something in the library that could help me. It's a copy of the local paper, dated last Friday. HEIR TO DEFOE ESTATES FOUND DEAD[[Sir Clarence DeFoe, last of the long-running DeFoe line, was found dead yesterday in his home. DeFoe, 24, was found hanging from a tree in the front yard of DeFoe Manor. His recent bride, Julia Swanson-DeFoe, was also found dead in the mansion, apparently stabbed to death. Inspector Jacob Barnes, the officer in charge of the investigation, has closed the case. `There's no mystery here,' he said. `DeFoe killed his wife and then himself. We have already disproved the possibility of a third party. Sir Clarence's solicitor, Michael Cheasham, however, has gone on record questioning the Inspector's judgment. `The last I saw Sir Clarence, he was infinitely content. He would never have committed such an act. Plus there was no suicide note.' It's another door. It's what we in the trade call a door. It's a large rectangular piece of wood used to fill large ungainly holes in walls. It's a door, what more is there to say? As you have probably already figured out, this is a door. My keen senses tell me that this is a door. Is this a door I see before me? It's larger than a window and smaller than a garage, so I guess it's a door. I think, of all the doors I've seen here, this is by far the best. I take it back, THIS is the best door in the whole house. I used to go out with a girl who had a door just like that. Have I already told you about the girl who had a door just like that? Her name was Patricia... She had eyes like sapphires... hair like a fountain of night... And the most incredible pair of... ...of... ...earrings I had ever seen. Anyway, she left me for the lead singer of The Doors, which explains why this door reminds me of her, I suppose. Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble when players won't stop looking at the bloody doors. It's a door. Pardon me, madam? Oh... hello. Philip mentioned we had a new guest. You're Simone Taylor, right? Yes, you must have seen me on TV. Got a first name? Hey, wait a second! Not the cat burglar Trilby? Oh, wow! I presented a Crimewatch special on you once! Oh, man... I wish I had a camera right now... This could be huge... You wouldn't consent to an interview, would you? Madame, even if I did have a sudden retarding brain injury that would cause me to do so, Don't you think our apparent imprisonment is a slightly more urgent matter? Well, I admit I thought so the first day I was here. But I've been here four days now, and I really think I'm learning a lot about this place. If I could just get these infernal doors open... Philip's calling a house meeting in the lounge. Yes, it's so like him to do that when a new face appears. I'll see you later, Mr. Trilby. Strange woman. Just don't mess it up too much, it's for my scrapbook. Anyone else see the pattern in all these stories? Which pattern would that be? Seems to me, the house only traps people individually. It didn't try to trap Jim's friends. Or Simone's camera crew. It's only letting us in one at a time... You're talking about the house like it's intelligent. Surely it's more likely that there's just some joker behind all this. But how did they know we were coming? How did it know to leave a window open for me, risking one of you finding it? You think the house is haunted? I wouldn't use THAT word. But I definitely have a very odd feeling... Like we're being watched, I suppose. Maybe this is one of Simone's rating winners. Excuse me? Well, locking up some people in a house against their will and secretly filming them. Sounds like a natural Reality TV progression. It's also highly illegal. Wouldn't stop some people! Where the hell has AJ got to, anyway? I was hoping he'd be here. He's been doing some research on the house, he was going to share it with us tonight. Maybe someone should go look for him. What, now? It's getting pretty late. I admit I am beginning to feel tired. Yeah, me too... But... what about AJ? I don't think there's any need to worry now. If he still hasn't turned up by morning, then we'll look for him. Oh, alright. But we look for him as soon as we get up. He makes references to some monster he helped create, and he doesn't mean Matthew. And Matthew talks about another boy in the house, a boy behind the kitchen door. Those manacles indicate that someone was kept imprisoned in the basement. Where do you think this other son came from? I want to hear what you think, first. I found Belinda's death certificate. She died about twenty minutes after Matthew was already out. I think it was the second son that did her in. Sir Roderick went practically insane with grief. Blamed the poor kid for her death, kept him locked in the basement, refused to even acknowledge his existence. Can you imagine what that must have been like for the boy? Growing up in a filthy grotto like some kind of animal, given no education, no love. The boy would be completely retarded and insane. He probably couldn't tell the difference between one person and another. That's why he kills absolutely everyone who enters the house. He thinks they're all Sir Roderick, come to torment him some more. But what happened on that day fifteen years later, when Sir Roderick and Matthew disappeared? You found their corpses in the basement, so they were obviously murdered. Question is, how and why? Remember, in Sir Roderick's diary, in the last entry? He talks about destroying the monster. He must have gotten really drunk, and it being the anniversary of Belinda's death didn't help. He went down to the basement, and beat the poor kid to death. HALF to death. Matthew found the body afterwards, and tried to bandage him up. Matthew wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. His brother lived on for a bit longer. Long enough to get a mask and machete, and to kill both his father and Matthew. Then he must have just died of his wounds. Jesus. And we're going to try to destroy his ghost? None of anything that happened to him is his own fault! What little mind he had is no more. All he has now is hate. If we don't kill him, he'll kill us all. There's no reasoning with him. I suppose you're right... It's very sad, really. What will you do now? I'm going to find his body. Then I'm going to figure out how to bring his soul back to it, and destroy him. Well, let me know if I can be of any help. I will. Good luck. Mr Trilby? Yes, Jim? Can I ask you a favour? I still have the... mask and the apron and the knife from last night... Could you take them and throw them away for me? I really don't like having them around. Thank you. No, thank YOU. It's an article cut out from a magazine called Treasure Hunting Monthly. THE MYSTERY OF DEFOE MANOR[[DeFoe Manor, one of the country's more notorious stately homes, is renowned for being a great source of untold wealth, but what is the curse that surrounds the creaking house? The mansion was built in the early 19th century by the legendary explorer Roderick DeFoe, in celebration of his retirement and marriage. Sir Roderick disappeared along with his only son, on the fifteen year anniversary of his wife's sudden death. After that, the house fell into the possession of a succession of heirs, most of whom died or disappeared in mysterious circumstances. The house was left abandoned after the last heir was thought to have died in 1946, until the recent appearance of Clarence DeFoe, who managed to prove his connection to the lineage and inherit the house. A History Of The DeFoe Family: Volume VII Roderick DeFoe, later Sir Roderick DeFoe, is probably the most famous of the lineage. Using a lot of the inheritance he attained when his parents died suddenly, he embarked on a series of adventures throughout the globe, earning quite a reputation as a colonial explorer. He retired from adventuring at the age of 40 when he met his future bride, Belinda Rothman, and fell instantly in love. He built a luxury manor in the English countryside, and the couple moved in as soon as work was complete. By all accounts, the couple were deliriously happy, which is what made Belinda's sudden death, while giving birth to their only son, Matthew, all the more tragic. Sir Roderick was in mourning for a long time, leaving the upbringing of Matthew in the hands of numerous nannies and tutors. When he finally did start taking an interest in his son, he was known to be bitterly disappointed as his son rejected the idea of joining the army, preferring to pursue art and literature. As Matthew neared the age of 15, however, he and his father seemed to grow closer. They didn't always see eye to eye, but they seemed to understand each other, and offer unconditional love. And then, on Matthew's 15th birthday, he and Roderick disappeared. A servant found bloodstains in one of the rooms, but no bodies were found. The fate of Sir Roderick and his wayward son remains a mystery to this day, the first of many mysterious disappearances connected to the DeFoe line and the family house. It's a VERY old architectural plan of DeFoe Manor. Hey, Mr. Harty, I found this old map in the library. Did you. Take a look. The tomb is quite clearly under the front yard. But... this is the back yard. There's no way into the front yard. Sucks, doesn't it. Well, I guess that's my escape plan out the window. Thanks a bunch, buddy. Don't mention it. Can I borrow the metal detector? Why the hell not?! Take away my hopes, might as well take my only worldly possession, too. Have fun with it. Now, do excuse me. The diary of Sir Roderick DeFoe. March 5th, 1805[[Work on the house is going well. It should be completed by the end of July. Belinda is already excited about the forthcoming wedding, and spends many hours of the day going over even the smallest details over and over again. Not since our early courtship has she been so giddy with joy. It softens my heart to see her smile, and she smiles often. I am wondering why I didn't retire sooner. August 12th, 1805[[I am only now having the opportunity to write this, as it has been a most hectic day. The wedding went without a hitch, and the house was ready for us to move in as soon as the ceremony was over. Belinda insisted on consummating our marriage immediately. I am sure, dear diary, this house can expect to hear the laughter of children before 1806 is out. February 14th, 1806[[A romantic day for our announcement; the physician has just left, confirming that Belinda is with child, a child we can expect to be born in June. We have already decided to name the child Matthew if a boy, or Jane if a girl. July 28th, 1806[[Belinda is dead. I will never forget her face, ash grey, contorted with pain. The child is healthy. Would that it had never come about and spared me this fresh hell. May 24th, 1820[[Matthew showed me the painting of the grounds he had created. I worry about the boy. Why can't he have healthier interests, like soldiering? The painting was fair, I suppose, but I would rather my child be less of a weakling. July 28th, 1821[[It is the anniversary of the night I unleashed a horror. A horror which I tonight shall remove from this world. May God forgive me. That's the last entry. The secret diary of Matthew DeFoe. July 28th, 1814[[Today is my eighth birthday. Nanny said I would soon be a big strong man like my father. I wanted to see him today, but he wouldn't come out of his study all day. Nanny says he always gets cross on this day, but it's not because of me. August 5th, 1817[[I found a new friend. He is behind the door in the kitchen and he doesn't have a name. He likes me to sit and talk to him, but father gets very angry when he finds me doing this. I asked father who the boy behind the door was, but he told me there was no boy behind the door and it was just a silly fantasy. May 24th, 1820[[I showed father the painting I just finished. He said it was quite good, which is the best thing he has ever said. While he was in the good mood, I asked if I could go and look behind the door in the kitchen. He pretended not to hear me. July 28th, 1821[[My father has done a terrible thing. All this time he pretended there was no boy behind the door, and now this. There is blood all over the kitchen floor. I will do what I can. Then we can be a family together and be happy. That's where it ends, except for a little ink blot just underneath the text. It's a book on White Magic. FINDING A PERSON FROM THEIR POSSESSION[[Tie the possession in question to a stick and dip it in salt. Next, wave it over the place where the subject sleeps. When you hold it in front of you, the object should now indicate in which direction the owner lies. I don't see why I should. There's no way to attach the bear to the stick. A little macabre, perhaps, but never mind. It seems to be indicating downwards. Either it's not working properly or it's pointing straight downwards. It seems to be indicating to my right. It's indicating to the southeast. It's indicating to the south. It's indicating to the southwest. It's indicating to the northeast. It's indicating to the east. It's indicating to the north. It's indicating to the northwest. It's indicating to the west. It's pointing straight down. It seems to be indicating to my left. I think I've done that enough. I've cut a thin strip off the apron. I shouldn't dismantle this thing until I've found the body. It seems to be indicating upwards. Either it's not working properly, or it's pointing straight downwards. The Arts Of Black Magic and Necromancy. SUMMONING ANGRY SPIRITS TO THEIR BODIES[[Murderous wraiths are nigh-indestructible when they can hop from body to body, but tying them down to their old bodies returns them to partial mortality, a state in which they can be destroyed. Simply enough, place the spirit's original body in a place of fire and death. Return it its old clothes. Then read aloud the following passage, omitting nothing. (There's just a load of magic gobbledygook here. When I want to read it out, I should use this book on myself.) WARNING: The summoning of a wraith will often bring forth other unquiet spirits, who will haunt those who hold their possessions. Here goes nothing. In this hall of death, and by the light of Prometheus' gift, I call thee. I bring thee gifts that may tempt thee back. I bring thee thy helm, that thy would be masked. I bring thee thy armour, that thy would be clothed. I bring thee thy sword, that thy would be armed. Come. Come... Jesus Christ! What now? Trilby, what... Uh... Y-you... YOU! I knew you were evil from the moment you came into this world, demon child. May God forgive me for having a part in your creation! Why did you kill me, brother? I helped you when you were injured. I bandaged you when our father made his mistake. No mistake, young one. Now do you see why I tried to keep you away from this creature? It has no understanding of human ways. You're wrong, father! If you'd have even given him a chance to be normal... Cease your prattling, Matthew! It's time to put an end to the horror I unleashed. I think now would be a good time to take our leave. Trilby, what now?! Maybe I could have planned this better... This isn't a good time for that. I don't want to use that on myself. Could you hold onto this for me, Jim? Whatever you say. Could you hold onto this for me, Simone? Is this part of the plan? Or do you just get a kick out of seeing women with big guns? Please, Simone. // **** GUI LABELS AND BUTTONS ARE BELOW **** @OVERHOTSPOT@ Text New Button // **** CHARACTER NAMES ARE BELOW **** Trilby Jim Simone AJ Screen Welder Wraith Cop // **** INVENTORY ITEM NAMES ARE BELOW **** Grolly Article Family History Plan Metal detector Lockpicks Diary Stick Cord + stick Cord + bear Bear + stick Salty bear + stick Lockpick Welding mask Apron Machete Strip Machete + strip Mask + strip Mask + machete Salty mask + machete Black magic book Gun !!!EOF *** DO NOT REMOVE THIS LINE ***