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ISSUE #44 - April 30, 2006

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    The  |___/ociety for the |_|romotion of  |_|_|dventure  \___|ames.

                             ISSUE #44

            Edited by Jimmy Maher (maher SP@G grandecom.net)
                           April 30, 2006

               SPAG Website: http://www.sparkynet.com/spag

    SPAG #44 is copyright (c) 2006 by Jimmy Maher.
    Authors of reviews and articles retain the rights to their contributions.

    All email addresses are spamblocked -- replace the name of our magazine
    with the traditional 'at' sign.

    ARTICLES IN THIS ISSUE ----------------------------------------------------

    The SPAG Interview: Graham Nelson and Emily Short on Inform 7

    REVIEWS IN THIS ISSUE -----------------------------------------------------

    Akari's Story
    All Hope Abandon
    The Baron
    Damnatio Memoriae
    Dracula: The First Night
    Pantomine
    The Potter and the Mould
    Threnody
    The Warlord, the Princess, and the Bulldog

    SPECIFICS
    =========
    The Baron

    EDITORIAL------------------------------------------------------------------

    From the department of the obvious: This issue is late.  For that, I heartily
    apologize, both to SPAG's readership and (especially) to those who sent in
    content and have been patiently waiting for it to appear.  Now, however, I will
    haul out my excuses.  The first two weeks of delay were entirely due to my own
    personal situation.  I was in the midst of completing my university coursework
    for the semester, and just did not have the time to do an adequete job with
    SPAG.  The next week of delay was to allow the Spring Thing competition to end,
    and for me to print Mike Snyder and Dan Shiovitz's eloquent analysises of the
    games that were entered there.  Finally, I had the opportunity to interview
    Graham Nelson and Emily Short about the forthcoming (and potentially
    revolutionary) Inform 7 for the price of one more week's delay, and I just could
    not pass it up.  The good news, though, is that we have another very substantial
    issue here, thanks once again to all of you, featuring commentary on some fine
    examples of present-day IF.

    I have been thinking a fair amount lately about the current state of the art in
    IF.  If we date the beginning of the modern era from the beginning of the IF
    Competition in 1995, we are now far enough into same that larger trends might
    start to assert themselves.  Modern IF, in short, has a history of its own now
    apart from the larger story of IF as a whole.  Prompted partially by some recent
    (and occasionally heated) discussion on the newsgroups, I find myself wanting to
    understand those trends.  Whether my analysis will be correct in the end only
    more time and the better perspective it brings will tell, but I am going to
    briefly describe the way I see IF's recent evolution.

    I think we might call the first six or seven years of modern IF, from 1995 to
    2002 or so, the era of experimentation.  It was marked by an explosion of games
    that seemed determined to sort out just what this medium could do and be now
    that it was freed from the commercial constraint that "IF" must be a synonym for
    "(text) adventure game."  That First Competition included C.E. Forman's Mystery
    Science Theatre 3000-ization of Detective, Garath Rees' one-room experiment The
    Magic Toyshop, and Neil Demause's bizarre self-referential Undo.  As time wore
    on, such experiments in form continued unabated.  I am thinking of works like
    Aisle, The Space Under the Window, Shrapnel, and many others here.  Even the
    much-loved Photopia could fall into this category.  (Can we remove all of the
    gamelike elements from IF and still make it compelling?)  Galatea fits as well.
    (Just how believable of an NPC can we manage with our current tools, and can we
    build an interesting work around nothing but interaction with her?)  Of course,
    this was not ALL that was going on.  Plenty of traditional text adventures were
    being written as well.  Still, I think I see a trend here, and possibly a
    dominent trend.

    The works I have just mentioned, and many similar ones I did not, were all
    important, indeed essential, to IF's artistic growth.  They were, however, also
    somewhat limited in their artistic success by their very natures as formal
    experiments.  I do not think that Neil K. Guy felt compelled to tell the story
    of an average fellow in a grocery store, and decided that a one-move work of IF
    was the best way to do that.  Similarly, and perhaps more controversially, I do
    not really see Emily Short as writing Galatea with the primary intent of
    illuminating the title character for her players.  I think she wanted to
    experiment with conversation in IF, and chose Galatea after making that decision
    as a clever and interesting subject.  (Photopia, on the other hand, I will leave
    alone as the exception that proves the rule.)

    I had a creative writing teacher once who gave me some advice I have never
    forgotten.  She told me that the form of a work should arise organically from
    the nature of what the artist is trying to express.  This remark was made in
    response to the trend nowdays in fiction to break the rules seemingly for the
    sake of it through the employment of fragmentation, deliberate grammatical
    errors, colors and odd typefaces, etc.  Such things, my teacher told me, should
    only be used if the artist cannot get her message across without them.
    Otherwise, they merely draw the reader's attention to the surface of the work
    and away from its real heart.  They are, in short, mere showboating by the
    author, who seems to be crying, "Look at me!  Look how very clever and
    postmodern I am!"  One is often left to suspect that the heart of the work is in
    fact empty, and thus all its author has to work with is its surface textures.

    I don't mean the preceding to sound as harsh as it possibly might in the context
    of this discussion about IF.  I don't see the authors of any of the works
    mentioned above as being guilty of showboating for its own sake in the way that
    irritates me with authors of postmodern fiction.  What I do see, though, is
    these authors working out through experimentation and trial and error just what
    the tools of IF really are, and what can and cannot be done with them.  Think of
    Renaissance artists discovering the rules of perspective through a series of
    sketches.  The IF works I have been discussing are works of real quality,
    interest, and historical importance, but they are also limited by the very
    motivation behind their creation.  Their authors did not say, "I have this
    amazing story -- (or, depending on the nature of the work, amazing game) -- to
    communicate, and this form is the best way to do so."  It rather seems to me
    that the form came first, and the details of the story/game followed.  This does
    not make the works any less clever or important, but it does give them a certain
    coldness or even, to use a word batted rather recklessly about the newsgroups
    recently, pretension.  As was also mentioned, though, pretension is not always a
    bad thing, and is often necessary for the advancement of an artform.

    I believe I see a change in the games being produced by the community in the
    last few years.  The formal experiments have decreased considerably in number.
    Increasing in number, though, are works that internalize the fruits of that
    experimentation, as well as the considerable body of design theory the community
    has built up over the years, in the service of their artistic intent, rather
    than the other way around.  Take Vespers, winner of last fall's Competition, for
    example.  It tells a story that I personally find as emotionally compelling as
    Photopia, yet it manages to also do something Photopia did not: to put the
    "interactive" into its "interactive fiction."  The narrative and the crossword
    are in perfect balance.

    For an artist to create great work, she must first understand her tools.  Just
    possibly, we in the IF community are finally reaching that stage.  It may be
    that in ten years whoever is editing SPAG will point to the last few years as
    the first rumblings of the artistic maturity of IF.

    IF NEWS -------------------------------------------------------------------

    NEW WEB-BASED Z-MACHINE TERPS
    Wei-ju Wu has developed a new Java Z-Machine interpreter.  Everyone who is still
    using ZPlet to imbed IF games in their web pages should definitely take a look,
    as Wu's program is already at version 0.89 much more attractive and capable.
    Also, Q.P. Liu has written a Z-Machine interpreter entirely in JavaScript (!).
    It's a bit slow, but may be worth a look.
    http://sourceforge.net/projects/zmpp
    http://www.geocities.com/qpliu/if

    THE 2005 XYZZY AWARDS
    IF's equivalent of the Oscars, for the best games released during the previous
    year, were recently announced.  My, what a good year Jason Devlin had.
    Congratulation to all of the winners!  Visit the XYZZY News website for a
    complete transcript of the ceremony from the IF MUD.
    Best game: Vespers, by Jason Devlin
    Best writing: Vespers, by Jason Devlin
    Best story: Beyond, by Mondi Confinanti (Roberto Grassi, Paolo Lucchesi, and
    Alessandro Peretti)
    Best setting: Vespers, by Jason Devlin
    Best puzzles: Distress, by Mike Snyder
    Best NPCs: Vespers, by Jason Devlin
    Best individual puzzle: Following the murderer in Beyond, by Mondi Confinanti
    (Roberto Grassi, Paolo Lucchesi, and Alessandro Peretti)
    Best individual NPC: The storyteller in Whom the Telling Changed (by Aaron A.
    Reed)
    Best individual PC: Wendy Little In Tough Beans, by Sara Dee
    Best use of medium: Mystery House Possessed, by Emily Short
    http://www.xyzzynew.com.

    SPRING THING 2006
    The Spring Thing competition has just wrapped up as I am writing this.  Thanks
    to Greg Boettcher for administering it for a third year, and to Mike Snyder and
    Dan Shiovitz for their timely reviews of the games to be found in this very
    issue.  All four games are eminently worth playing, but this is after all a
    competition, and so the results were as follows:
    1. The Baron by Victor Gijsbers
    2. The Potter and the Mould by Robert Street
    3. Pantomine by Robb Sherwin
    4. The Warlord, the Princess, and the Bulldog by David Whyld

    SPAG NEEDS YOU!
    Once again you folks have come through for me, helping out with reviews of older
    games to clear much of my backlog.  There are always more being released,
    however, so your work and mine never really end.  Would we really want it any
    other way?

    SPAG 10 MOST WANTED LIST
    ========================
    1.  Eragon
    2.  A Spot of Bother
    3.  1893: A World's Fair Mystery
    4.  Finding Martin
    5.  Swineback Ridge
    6.  Mystery House Taken Over games (any, some, or all!)
    7.  Remaining IF Comp 2005 Games
    8.  Dracula: The Arrival
    9.  2k Competition 2004 Games
    10. IntroComp 2005 Games

    THE SPAG INTERVIEW---------------------------------------------------------

    We may someday look back upon April 30, 2006, as a hugely significant day in the
    history of IF.  If you haven't heard yet, Graham Nelson has today released the
    latest version of his Inform IF development language.  Actually, thinking of
    Inform 7 as just an update to Inform 6 does not begin to do it justice.  It is
    in fact a major paradigm shift, not just for Inform but for IF development in
    general.  Inform 7 allows its user to create IF not through a conventional
    programming language but through natural language descriptions of the
    environment to be simulated.  The result is a tool that both Graham and his
    closest partner in Inform 7's development, Emily Short, feel is both more
    powerful and flexible and much easier to use than Inform 6, and that has the
    potential to expand IF's authorship community immensely.  The presentation side
    of things has also not been neglected.  Inform 7 games are developed within a
    slick and professional IDE (available for Windows and Mac OSX), and can be
    packaged for release with cover art that is automatically displayed at run-time
    on interpreters equipped with the ability to do so.  I encourage every one of
    SPAG's readers to visit the Inform 7 website at http://www.inform-fiction.org to
    see for yourself.  I think you will come away excited and impressed.

    Graham and Emily were kind of enough to take time during the hectic final days
    of Inform 7's development to talk with SPAG.  Their interview follows.

      SPAG: We all know what Emily has been up to recently, namely authoring a
      string of interesting and important games.  You, Graham, had however retired
      from the limelight completely.  I had assumed that you had lost interest in IF
      and moved on to other things.  Now that I realize that is not the case, I
      wonder just how long you have been working on Inform 7. Could you briefly
      describe its development history for us?

    GN: I tend to get involved publically only when I feel I have something to say,
    I suppose, but my apparent invisibility in recent years is partly an aspect of
    the natural life-cycle of community software. Inform 6 is not gcc, or emacs, or
    even curl, but it is (I hope) a fairly dependable command-line tool. After rapid
    flux in 1993-96, during which Informs 1 to 5 never stood still long enough to be
    debugged, I spent about six months recoding the compiler from first principles -
    this was Inform 6. It then needed stability and a trustworthy infrastructure of
    support and documentation. In 1999-2001, spurred on by the kindness and interest
    of Mike Berlyn and later David Cornelson, I worked mainly on the Designer's
    Manual, notionally the fourth edition (people took to calling this the "DM4")
    but really the first to be a genuine book. Gareth Rees's editing forced me into
    doing the job properly: the best kind of editor is also the author's conscience.
    The DM4 is the scene of a collision between two quite different books - one on
    the history and practice of IF, the other on Inform 6 - but perhaps that is what
    gives the book its cult status, if I can call it that. I have always rather
    liked hand-made books which expose the inner landscape of the writer - Robert
    Harbison's "Eccentric Spaces", say. Sometimes such books put a spurious
    intellectual gloss on individual captivations which leave others cold, or worse,
    embarrassed: and they can be awfully gauche, like "Godel, Escher, Bach", or just
    plain mad, like "The White Goddess", but there's a kind of honesty in them. I
    don't compare myself, but the DM4 belongs to that genre. It continues in print,
    and Dan Sanderson published a third impression just this month - actually, I
    received the first hardback copy today. Buy early for Christmas.

    After 2001, Inform 6 stabilised to its published description. The Inform-
    maintenance mailing list organises bug fixes - Roger Firth, Cedric Knight, David
    Kinder and other fine people do all the work; I doze benignly on my peacock
    throne, occasionally murmuring when something radical is said, but otherwise
    leaving Inform 6 maintenance to the professionals. A few years ago, Roger asked
    me what would be the next step forward for Inform 6: I think I disappointed him
    a little by saying that I wanted stability. People do sometimes push for, say,
    Java-like exceptions, or other new linguistic features, but I think they would
    add little. While there are minor process improvements to Inform 6 which I think
    would be helpful - more transparent Unicode support, for instance, a little more
    work on Glulx compilation - and while we do need more reliable unit testing,
    Inform 6 is in an essentially final state.

    So in 2001-02, I felt that I had pretty well said what I wanted to say about IF.
    Except... Off and on, I worked on a little draft of an IF, which never got much
    further than a few scenes because I kept grinding to a halt. I found using
    Inform at the command line to be fussy, inelegant. To start a project took ages.
    And why was I typing so much verbiage just to establish that one thing was in
    another, and so forth? I formed some hazy thoughts about what would be a better
    interface, but they seemed hopelessly unrealisable.

    But over 2002-03, I began again in earnest, and persuaded Andrew Hunter to join
    the project. I had by now written what I thought of as the "Book of Inform", a
    brief description of how Inform should present itself to the user - the name
    being a homage to Jef Raskin, who wrote a similar "Book of Macintosh" at Apple
    twenty years ago. Andrew, who had already written a beautiful Z-machine
    interpreter for Mac OS X - Zoom - agreed to take on the coding of the user
    interface: I would write the actual compiler inside, and the two together would
    be Inform 7. The final interface isn't exactly as once specified - many ideas
    came later and were Andrew's, not mine - but it's pretty close to the original
    "vision", if I can call it that. David Kinder's user interface for Windows came
    later and is in some sense a clone of the Mac OS X one, but they have no code in
    common - his is an independent miracle of programming.

    The history of Inform 7 can be divided into five: initial sketches and false
    starts; completion of a superficial, but just about IF-capable first draft (it
    was this that Emily used to write "Mystery House Possessed", whose banner was
    the first public appearance of the words "Inform 7"); going back to the drawing
    board, which meant fairly intensive study of linguistic semantics and even a
    little philosophy of language; realising that the new features added as a result
    of this had enormously expanded the scope of Inform, and developing the
    consequences; and finally, polishing, documenting, finishing up.

    I hope it will not be thought that I am the only begetter of Inform 7. Emily
    Short became increasingly closely involved after the first year, and went from
    being an adviser to becoming - as she now is - in practical terms co-regent.
    Andrew Plotkin remained an occasional adviser, so his contribution was more
    modest, but he injected exactly the right radical ideas at the right time.

    Emily, want to talk about what it was like from your point of view?

    ES: I, er, gosh. A blur. I guess I spent roughly a year filing hundreds of
    fiddly bug reports and writing long, annoying email about all the difficult
    features I wanted added; and another year or so writing test code and examples
    and full games. So during the first part I spent a lot of time thinking about
    what the strengths of the system were, and how they could be enhanced -- whether
    there were ways to generalize or abstract the things that it already did, to
    make them more powerful. The second half was turning around and applying those
    things again, and making sure Inform really could handle all the applications I
    envisioned for it. There are still, oh, two dozen or so directions I want to
    develop further, but it's time to let other people have a crack at it too.

      SPAG: Many Internet programs, especially those intended to be used by a
      community, are written in public, with open source and frequent published
      drafts. Why is Inform 7 only now making its first public appearance?

    GN: Partly my nature, no doubt. TADS 3 has had a much more open process - and
    perhaps a more confident one. I will certainly plead guilty to being a control
    freak. The hard decisions are what to take out, not what to put in, and that
    becomes more difficult when there is a nascent user base. (Also, you need to be
    careful which wish-lists to read: the wish-list you need to pay most attention
    to is the one written by a designer of actual IF, not a well-motivated
    bystander.)

    Had Inform 7 been developed in open source, I am fairly sure it would now be an
    elaborated version of the superficial prototype, and that it would be much the
    poorer. And it ought to be remembered that for at least the first year of the
    project, I wasn't at all sure it would ever work - "work" in the sense of being
    capable enough to be useful.

    I do not quite buy the argument put by Eric Raymond in "The Cathedral and the
    Bazaar", that the bustling, self-organised world of the bazaar gets things built
    better and faster than the secretive clergy. I suspect he chooses a cathedral to
    rebut the famous passage in Brooks's "The Mythical Man-Month", which points to
    the aesthetic triumph of those cathedrals whose masons stuck to the original
    design conception, rather than adding incoherent but fashionable motifs in each
    generation. But I think Brooks is right more often than Raymond. (Actually, we
    need both kinds of software development: we need both Linux and Mac OS X, the
    classically open bazaar and classically secretive cathedral - they keep each
    other honest.)

    In particular Raymond's argument seems to me applicable only to programs whose
    basic operation is clearly understood by all parties in advance. The bazaar gave
    us Linux, but Linux was essentially a duplicate of an already very well
    established mode d'emploi, as we might say. To be fair to Raymond, though he
    says some silly things about academia and is somewhat in the thrall of the Ayn
    Rand and Robert Heinlein school of society - I'll bet he read "Farmer in the
    Sky" as a kid, and thought it just dandy - let me note that his actual writings
    are more pragmatic and less ideological than the 20-point headlines printed
    above them. I think Raymond accepts that all projects go through both cathedral
    and bazaar phases.

    Besides, these two cultures often overlap. Chartres cathedral used to have an
    actual bazaar in it, in the middle ages - you could buy vegetables, or even
    livestock, and it must have been mayhem sometimes: but that was all right,
    because the occasional runaway piglet was never going to be able to knock over
    the columns holding up the walls. Well, if Inform is a cathedral, its explicit
    support for extensions is the equivalent of inviting the townsfolk in to set up
    their stalls.

    To give a perhaps ridiculous example - only I don't think it is ridiculous - of
    what I mean by holistic design, over the last week we have been worrying about
    the colour of two of the icons used in the Scene index. This tiny corner of the
    user interface is based on the metaphor of traffic lights - the icons are green,
    amber, red. But was the middle colour too yellow? (We looked at photographs of
    actual British and American traffic lights at this point.) And was a round shape
    quite right, or would it wrongly suggest affinities with other round elements in
    the user interface? We didn't spend long on this, but we went through five
    iterations of icon designs, and it was time worth spending. I think my ideal for
    software may not be as ambitious as a cathedral, but it is good to try to build
    something like a Charles Rennie Mackintosh house: one in which the furniture,
    the decor and even the cutlery are part of the line of the whole.

    The question, of course, is whether anyone would feel able to sprawl out and
    relax in a Charles Rennie Mackintosh house. We shall see.

      SPAG: Until now, there have been two paradigms for the development of IF.
      There is the programming model, which brings great power and flexibility but
      can be difficult to learn, especially for the non-technical.  And there is the
      GUI-based model, which is quick and easy to learn but sacrifices power for
      ease of use.  With Inform 7's natural language model, you have introduced a
      third way.  What led you to the idea of using natural language for IF
      development?

    GN: It's funny: I used to think that conventional styles of programming "bring
    great power and flexibility", but now I'm not so sure they do, in this
    particular arena - though I certainly accept that they are way ahead of point
    and click models.

    I think it is significant that the impetus for natural language came out of a
    desire for better semantics, not better syntax. Many systems which adopt
    English-like scripting languages do so in a way which might be called
    "procedural programming plus syntactic sugar", and the result is seldom very
    edifying, except to produce readable configuration files now and then.

    The answer is that this came out of a tiny piece of unfinished business from the
    DM4. One of the last chapters to be written in the DM4 was a formal semantic
    description of the Inform world model - semantic in the sense of linguistics,
    not computing: there were sections on how time, space, and so forth were
    conceptualised. I would read this - mostly lucid, mostly precise - and then look
    at the quite horrible expression of the same ideas in the Inform 6 library,
    which is written in Inform 6 code. And I would think: why can't Inform simply
    read the world-model chapter of the DM4, and use that as its library?

    ES: I confess that when Graham originally wrote to me to say he was working on a
    natural language version of Inform, my reaction was, er, extreme skepticism. I
    didn't see how such a system could be anything but infuriating to program in;
    the natural language bit seemed to be at best a way for the novice to sketch out
    some rooms and objects, but I imagined the real work would have to be done at
    the I6 layer, and that anyone half-competent at I6 would probably find they
    preferred just staying at that level. So I wrote back what I hope was a polite
    letter, expressing an interest in seeing what he came up with, but hinting that
    trading Inform's native power for this sort of convenience would be a serious
    mistake. I also had some concerns about the fact that this kind of language
    would be less accessible to non-English speakers.

    At some point, though, I started to realize that this natural language business
    had deeper implications than I had previously appreciated, to do with making the
    parser and the world model and the output all work together properly, and that
    it was adding power to the system, as well as readability; which is the point at
    which I became really committed to working on the project through to the end.

      SPAG: I understand that Inform 7 is not really a compiler, but rather a pre-
      processor that generates Inform 6 code, which is then in turn compiled by the
      Inform 6 compiler.  Was there any reasoning behind this choice beyond
      technical expediency?

    GN: Well, again, I hope it will not be thought that Inform 7 "is" the compiler.
    It is the compiler and the interface and the documentation, all merging one into
    another from the user's perspective. (The compiler is actually called NI, for
    "natural language Inform", but this name is not outwardly visible.) As for "pre
    -processor", perhaps I might observe that the Inform 7 compiler source is much
    larger than the source for Inform 6.

    It is true that Inform 7 code-generates to Inform 6, rather than to native Z-
    code machine language. This has obvious benefits in terms of the proven
    reliability of Inform 6 as a code generator, and also for cross-platform
    compilation to the Glulx virtual machine (an eventual goal, though one that
    isn't yet supported). I think of Inform 6 as a rather low-level language, but
    one that is securely implemented: I'm naturally keen to leverage all of the
    programmer-hours which have gone into making it work. It also contains a solid
    kernel of run-time code - notably the parser.

      SPAG: Emily, you stated on the newsgroups that Inform 7 actually allows you to
      do things easily that were difficult or impossible in Inform 6.  I assume it
      must have advantages and capabilities that go beyond being more readable and
      easier to use than Inform 6.  Now that the cat is fully out of the bag, as it
      were, could you elaborate a bit about what those are?

    ES: This is a pretty large question, so I will stick with a couple of major
    points I'm not mentioning elsewhere - one to do with natural language, one to do
    with abstractions, and one to do with Inform as an application - though in fact
    there are others.

    Re. natural language: One of the things one is always doing in traditional IF
    coding is trying to get the parsing, the screen output, and the world model to
    line up: make sure all the words that are ever used to describe something are
    also valid for parsing it, make sure that important conditions of objects are
    always described to the player, that sort of thing. And it is even more work
    dealing with temporary conditions. Inform 6 does a bit with understanding "lit"
    and "unlit" to distinguish objects, for instance, but it's not easy for the
    author to add to that system. Along the same lines, I6 automatically describes
    things as lit/open/etc., but it takes considerably more effort to turn off that
    automatic description or get the game to narrate some other aspect of the world
    model entirely.

    With Inform 7 this was something we had an opportunity to improve, and the
    natural language component made it easier to bring those three aspects - input,
    model, output - in line with one another. Adding a concept like "color" or
    "weight" to an I7 game doesn't affect the model world alone; it also means that
    Inform 7 knows how to print and parse those words or units. This offers a lot of
    help in implementing objects that change in complex ways (like liquids, or
    burning objects), and in letting the player specify precise interactions (like
    "cut two inches off the twelve-inch string").

    Second, the language allows the author to define (and then refer to) new kinds
    of relationship between things. The classic I6 world model knows about some
    basic relationships, like the relationship between a container and the contained
    object, but it is not always possible to expand upon that as richly as one might
    like. In Inform 7 it is possible to make up entirely new kinds of relation, and
    then test for those relations, change them easily, and run path-finding routines
    through them. So I could, if I wanted, add to my model world the concept of one
    object being under another, and from then on refer to "the things which are
    under the chair", for instance. But I can also use these relations to say things
    like "this conversation topic relates to these other three conversation topics":
    now Inform has an idea of relations between abstract ideas, which was never
    present in the built-in world model, but I can bring to bear on that relation
    various abstract tools. I can write a grammar line that tells the parser only to
    understand topics related to the current one, for instance; I can change the
    interrelation of topics midway through the game; I can write NPCs who seek a
    path to a specific conversational goal, just as though they were seeking through
    the rooms of the map. In "Bronze", I used relations to describe which objects
    are required to solve the puzzles presented by other objects, which means that
    the adaptive help system is working on a (primitive, but adequate) model of
    puzzle structures, and I didn't have to think of all the possible
    interdependencies myself. "Damnatio Memoriae" runs through all the kinds of
    relation that Inform recognizes, partly as a test of the system, but also
    because this was a very trim and tidy way to express the in-game style of magic.

    Finally, Inform 7 includes a number of features that make it easier to develop a
    solid game. Some of this is reflected in the indices: you can check out your map
    and your world layout easily, and see whether Inform agrees with you about the
    way you've set things up. Less immediately flashy, but hugely valuable, are the
    pieces that keep track of previous playthroughs and let you automatically verify
    an entire walkthrough or a single portion of the game. "Bronze" was less painful
    to beta-test than just about any game I've written in Inform 6, though it does
    some challenging things, because it was developed simultaneously with the
    mechanisms for automatic testing; as I put new pieces in place, I was able to
    verify the outcome more thoroughly and efficiently than before.

      SPAG: Many aspects of Inform 7 are forthrightly booklike.  I speak not only of
      the natural language model itself, but also the appearance of the IDE as an
      open book with two facing pages, and the inclusion of "cover art" with Inform
      7 story files. Is this indicative of a desire to drive Inform 7 toward a more
      literary model, and if possible to attract more literary people (as opposed to
      technophiles) to IF?

    GN: Again, we use these computer-programming terms! I suppose the user interface
    for Inform is indeed an "IDE", but somehow that isn't how I picture it. The
    question I have tried to ask is: what is the natural representation, the natural
    expression? How do we think about something, and how can we make the user's
    engagement with it unconscious, rather than being a deliberative act of
    translation?

    I do want to make Inform accessible to a wider community. The manual says that
    it is for "computer programmers intrigued by writing, and writers intrigued by
    computer programming", but truthfully, I'd like to see IF tools - not just
    design systems, but also iTunes-like browsers and interpreters - which open up
    IF to that huge creative community of people who write blogs, and design their
    own websites, often startlingly well. IF will never be for everyone, but I would
    like it to be on the table as a viable form of artistic expression.

    On cover art, I think people have been wary in the past because of a suspicion
    of illustrated IF - bad partly because only graphic artists can make it work,
    but also perhaps partly because it is associated with the collapse of the glory
    days of commercial IF: it is seen as a slippery slope, a deviation from purity.
    I'm sympathetic to that, and wouldn't, for instance, be much impressed to find
    drawings every twenty pages in a new novel by Ian McEwan. On the other hand, I
    do not expect a new McEwan book to have a uniformly beige cover.

    ES: You might be impressed to find a vintage children's novel with the original
    plates, though, or a manuscript with illustrated initials, or a textbook with
    historical map inside the front cover. There are plenty of uses for illustration
    in IF other than trying (and failing) to emulate a graphical adventure game.
    There have been a handful of IF games in recent years that do this really right,
    and I would like it to be easier. I'd like to be able to write a game that had a
    frontispiece illustration before each major plot scene, for instance. Probably
    one drawn by someone other than me, but that's beside the point. It's possible
    to find collaborators for these things.

    But anyway, you were saying about cover art...

    GN: I think people have a sophisticated understanding of the level of artistic
    statement being made by a cover picture: that it is not of the book, yet sets
    the tone for it: that it may come and go with new editions, and indeed may give
    an old text a new lease of life. I think it's good to employ the sophisticated
    understandings we already have, rather than miss out on a potentially
    interesting form of expression.

    There's also a practical reason for cover art: most of today's IF tools have
    their origins in the age of FTP, when cover images would have been meaningless.
    Today we must engage with the Web, and the world of blogs - a world of
    promiscuous quotation not only of text but also of the image.

    Lastly, it's not an accident that Inform has a large suite of features for
    putting finishing touches to works, and that one whole chapter of the manual is
    about "Publishing". That isn't entirely a matter of providing a whole solution,
    like the teaspoons in my imaginary Charles Rennie Mackintosh house. It is also
    one of several ways in which Inform tries to manipu - excuse me, to encourage
    the user to produce something finished, and tidy, rather than makeshift.

    ES: I think "seduce" is the word you're looking for.

      SPAG: Are any plans afoot to offer the Inform 7 manual in hardcopy form, as
      was done with the Inform 6 Designer's Guide?

    GN: Yes, but not yet: there are sure to be changes, and perhaps major changes,
    as Inform 7 meets its users. What we would really like to publish - I say "we"
    because while I wrote the main text, Emily wrote almost all of the examples -
    would be an elegant, almost coffee-table book. One whose design doesn't evoke
    computing books of the drab Addison-Wesley style, but is more like a lifestyle
    cookery book, or one of the more aesthetically pleasing Photoshop guides. I
    certainly want something that would comfortably lie flat open. Digital printing
    has come a long way since the DM4's first impression in 2001, but our
    aspirations are probably a bit ambitious for now. Still, we might just be able
    to do it, if we printed the first edition by subscription, as David Cornelson
    did with the DM4: let's see.

    Actually, "the" manual is really two different volumes interleaved: the main
    text, and the examples, which are organised into a recipe book aiming to show a
    comprehensive range of techniques. From one viewpoint the examples footnote the
    main text, from the other it's vice versa. On screen, one can have it both ways,
    as the reader prefers: for the printed manual, we would have to choose.

      SPAG: You mentioned in your notes on this project that you are attempting to
      construct a rules-based rather than object-based model for IF development. Can
      you briefly explain what you mean by this?

    GN: This is Andrew Plotkin's idea more than my own. As you say, I've gone into
    this in some detail in the formal paper about the project, but broadly I would
    say that Inform 6's biggest semantic failing is that it ties all events and
    behaviours to individual objects (well, or classes, to be fair: but then you
    don't have easy access to the class Object, to put it mildly). Suppose one
    possible event is Alice eating a cake and shrinking. Is that a behaviour of
    Alice, or the cake? Why must we choose? Source code for IF games like Scott
    Adams's "Adventureland", which is stuffed full of combinations of objects doing
    something or other, becomes impossible to read in any linear (i.e., plot-
    respecting) way. Worse, if it's a change to the standard rules of realism (to do
    with what containers people can go inside, say) then it may be impossible to
    implement at all, without rewriting chunks of the Inform 6 library. There is
    constant pressure for said library to call more "entry points", to provide more
    hooks to hang customised code on, etc. The system grows steadily more complex
    and arcane - and it's never enough.

    ES: For instance, with "City of Secrets", I had to replace the library's
    handling of movement verbs to allow for the player to use a >GO BACK command. In
    Inform 7 the same job is accomplished with a couple lines that add an extra step
    to the Go action, without disrupting any of the things that are already supposed
    to happen.

    GN: Rules allow us to treat the world model and the actual game as interleaving.
    There is no dichotomy between the world model (fixed and with universal
    validity) and the objects in play (free to be altered but in ways that have only
    very specific validity).

    ES: I have found that the rule-based aspect means I tend to rough out a whole
    system fairly efficiently (for conversation, or some simulationist purpose or
    other) and get a structure working fast. There's still a lot of refinement to do
    after that point, but it's comparatively easy to build new features into the
    framework without doing a lot of rewriting.

    GN: Also, we can write the source in whatever order we think best. So once the
    framework is in place, it's easy to tidy up - to rearrange under suitable
    headings, say - without affecting its functionality. I reorganised "Reliques of
    Tolti-Aph" two or three times until I was happy with its chapter and section
    breakdown. I actually feel that this freedom considerably adds to the expressive
    power of the language even though it makes no difference to the outcome - it
    enables me to have the source text read back in a way which reflects how I think
    about the problem.

      SPAG: The two of you recently released three demonstration games as a taster
      for Inform 7.  Some quite sophisticated effects were to be found therein that
      would have required considerable programming skill, and even in a couple of
      cases recourse to Z-Machine assembly code, to achieve.  Were these games
      written entirely in Inform 7's natural language?

    GN: "Reliques of Tolti-Aph" - a frivolous piece of IF, whose real purpose is to
    test whether Inform could handle highly algorithmic puzzles - is written
    entirely in natural language, about 33,000 words of it. The text can be browsed
    at the Inform website.

    ES: There is almost no direct use of Inform 6 in mine either; all the screen
    effects and status line elements rely on extensions included with I7. (The
    extensions do drop back into Z-machine assembly code, but the user of the
    extension doesn't have to worry about that.)

    GN: It may also be worth mentioning that all three of these "worked examples",
    as we call them, were written very quickly - "ROTA" in the spare evenings of
    less than a fortnight, for instance, plus a little time for play-testing.

      SPAG: Two classic pitfalls of IF development are the modeling of liquids and
      the modeling of ropes.  Will Inform 7 offer any help here?

    ES: Neither is built into the default world-model, but I did write some example
    code for rope-handling, and several different pieces of code for liquid
    implementation. These range from the very simple (containers that are simply
    full to different levels or not) to a full system of mixture that keeps track of
    the components within and automatically identifies recipes (so that if you've
    poured the correct amounts of orange juice and champagne, say, it will relabel
    the liquid as "mimosa", with appropriate parsing and naming).

    GN: Is that what a mimosa is? I do wish people would just say orange juice and
    champagne if -

    ES: Yes, well, as we see not everyone wants this level of complexity.

    There are a number of other similar things in the examples as well: models for
    different types of conversation, telephones, objects that can be broken into
    component parts, cutting, burning, more sophisticated treatments of lighting,
    NPC goal-seeking, parsing keywords and adverbs, automated help for stuck novice
    players, organization by plot and scene rather than by location, and so on. Some
    of these are very standard simulation problems, and some have more to do with
    overriding the defaults of the world model entirely and making interactive
    fiction that behaves in an utterly different way. As I wrote the examples I
    spent a huge amount of time combing through extension libraries, RAIF posts, the
    IFwiki - anywhere where anyone had posted about wanting to be able to implement
    any hard thing at all - and tried implementing these things at least to a basic
    level in I7.

    Sometimes I ran into trouble, and then I pestered Graham for feature additions.
    A few of these involved major reconsiderations of how the model works - non-
    player character actions are now handled more or less on a par with player
    actions, so it's possible to make the same rules apply to both. The lack of this
    had always struck me as a major weakness in Inform 6; combined with Inform 7's
    action-handling procedures, it means that goal-seeking behavior can be written
    for NPCs using the same mechanisms that we use to write implicit actions for the
    player.

    Similarly, Inform 7 has a more developed mechanism for dealing with output. It
    was an early conversation with Nick Montfort that convinced me we should be
    thinking about descriptions and output as a separate aspect of the system,
    essentially, alongside the parser and the model world; and though there is quite
    a lot more one could do with this, it is now much easier to do things like keep
    track of what the player has been told about, and also to write rich and complex
    scene descriptions that vary depending on what's present and don't look so auto
    -generated.

    But quite often I found that Inform 7 did already provide the leverage I needed,
    or would with just a little minor modification, which I find encouraging.

    So I am hoping that people will be able to pick and adapt from these whatever
    they find most suited to the game they're writing - and, of course, people who
    develop more elaborated systems can, as always, offer those as extensions. I am
    not at all under the illusion that these examples are the final word in any of
    the areas they cover. But there was a kind of intentional propaganda in writing
    a lot of disparate examples that implied entirely different kinds of IF: I
    wanted to show off some of the true flexibility of the system, and encourage
    authors to think beyond the usual paradigms. We've had a number of interesting
    discussions on the newsgroups over the years about what IF might be like if it
    were less based on geographical rooms, a simple physical model, and so on; here,
    I think, is a tool suited to writing some of those works.

      SPAG: Has your work on natural language processing for the programming side of
      Inform 7 lent any insights that might be useful in improving our in-game
      parsers, or are we speaking of apples and oranges here?

    ES: Hm, well. It's certainly made me more aware of things I wish an in-game
    parser would handle intelligently, some few of which have actually been
    implemented and the rest of which I would like to see later. On the other hand,
    I don't know a lot about the practicalities of this. Inform 7 is able to
    extrapolate a good deal of implied information from the text it is given, and I
    would be interested in something similar in an IF game, but at the same time I
    imagine there might be speed issues.

    GN: It was in some ways the other way round. It annoyed me that Inform 6 did not
    parse source code as well as the Inform 6 library parsed commands in play - the
    latter was a little more linguistically aware. But as Emily says, there's more
    that could be done here.

      SPAG: Inform 7 does not currently support the Glulx virtual machine, but I
      understand that plans are in the works to do so. Are there any plans to expand
      the language to support the display of images and playback of sounds within
      Inform 7's natural language level?  Will Glulx replace the Z-Machine as the
      standard Inform 7 virtual machine at some point?

    GN: Yes, cautiously yes, and we shall see - I do not intend to force any such
    change of allegiance. Inform 7 makes Z-code which runs fine, though I've
    published a note of what an interpreter could do to have an easier life playing
    Inform 7 games (notably, have a larger stack capacity). But it's easy to hit the
    limits of the Z-machine, certainly: "Reliques of Tolti-Aph" is right up against
    them. Coding in Inform 7 makes it so quick to throw in vaguely nice if
    inessential extras (let's have not just Teddy Roosevelt but also a bison's head
    on his wall, oh, and a stuffed bear, why not, and...), that one hits limits
    earlier. And certain Inform 7 techniques do use up memory - various-to-various
    relations on large kinds, for instance.

    ES: I am quite interested in getting the ability to drop in images and sounds,
    myself, so I occasionally raise this topic. So far we've mostly been preoccupied
    with other more basic functionality, but the time will come, I hope.

    GN: Oh yes, I do hope eventually to have "Figures", just as in Emily's example
    of a children's book ("Figure 6. The hook-nosed stranger, his hand shaking,
    pointed the revolver straight at Biggles").

    KEY TO SCORES AND REVIEWS--------------------------------------------------

    Consider the following review header:

    TITLE: Cutthroats
    AUTHOR: Infocom
    EMAIL: ???
    DATE: September 1984
    PARSER: Infocom Standard
    SUPPORTS: Z-code (Infocom/Inform) interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: LTOI 2
    URL: Not available.
    VERSION: Release 23

    When submitting reviews:  Try to fill in as much of this info as you can.
    Authors may not review their own games.

    REVIEWS -------------------------------------------------------------------

    From: Sara Brookside (jsh11a SP@G aol.com)

    TITLE: Akari's Story
    AUTHOR: "Taleweaver"
    EMAIL: tralu SP@G hotmail.com
    DATE: 2005
    PARSER: ADRIFT
    SUPPORTS: ADRIFT interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware; Shadowvault archive
    URL: http://www.shadowvault.net/games/akari.zip
    VERSION: Release 1

    In this game, you play a Japanese teenager on a typical weekend day (in other
    words, no school!)  I would place this piece of IF in the "slice-of-life" genre
    and the game does do a relatively good job of faithfully simulating Akari's
    daily life.  Unfortunately, that simulation can sometimes be a little bit
    pedantic in the sense that it provides little in the way of "escape value."  I
    wasn't particularly caught up in the story or involved in the action, despite
    the fact that the world-modeling implementation was adequate.  Along those same
    lines, Akari's day lacked a sense of urgency or any clear goals.  Accordingly,
    there wasn't very much to command action or to require much of the PC.

    The walkthrough reveals that the game ends after a certain number of turns. at
    the end of the day, so to speak.  So, there is no real way to "win" the game,
    although there is a scoring system that awards points for certain actions.  The
    walkthrough also revealed that I tried many of the actions that the author had
    in mind, while there were others that I missed completely and would have never
    thought of had I not read the walkthrough.

    One of the most interesting aspects of this piece is that it DOES provide
    insight into another culture (unless, of course, you happen to be a Japanese
    teenager yourself!)  Japanese customs and terminology and even dietary
    preferences are woven into the game, which is quite intriguing!  The game also
    reveals a bit about what is important to modern Japanese youngsters. also neat
    to know.  On the downside, this may have the effect of making the player feel
    more like a spectator than a participant.  It is as if one is observing Akari's
    life, rather than participating in it or living it, which makes the pace of the
    work feel rather slow at times.

    The writing is rather sparse, in the sense that room descriptions are relatively
    brief and many nouns are non-examinable.  Still, I didn't note any particularly
    jarring errors in grammar or spelling, which certainly helped make for a
    pleasant reading experience in that regard.  In short, however, I felt much as
    if I was reading an essay by a Japanese teenager about her life, rather than
    playing a game.

    There are puzzles in the game and they are reasonably well-crafted, although
    certainly not complicated.  I wish there had been more of a sense of payoff to
    successfully solving the puzzles, however.  Because the problems posed were
    essentially of the routine, day-to-day variety, and there was very little
    urgency, it didn't seem to matter much whether I solved the puzzles or not.  The
    only real impact for doing so was the point value added to my score for
    performing certain actions.

    The characters in the game were largely undeveloped, except for the PC.  All of
    the NPCs felt rather static and cardboard to me, almost as if they were objects
    rather than characters.   Conversation is minimal, except if you happen to guess
    the few things that the author has allowed you to "ask [character] about," but
    this is not an uncommon problem by any means.

    As for plot and story, both were a little thin.  Without a compelling goal to
    spur action, the experience was much more like an exploration than an
    interactive narrative.  Game play progressed smoothly, though, with little
    evidence of "bugginess."  There was an occurrence or two of "guess the verb,"
    but I found those issues to be relatively easily solved and certainly not game-
    stoppers.  A reading of the walkthrough definitely revealed several cases of
    "read the author's mind" and in each case, I had failed to do so.

    In conclusion, this game could be much improved by augmenting descriptions to
    add atmosphere and capture the attention of the player, as well as implementing
    more variety and innovation in the tasks of the PC to make for a more compelling
    story line.

    Overall rating:  ** out of ***** for faithful simulation, fair puzzles, and
    cross-cultural value.

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: Paul Lee (bainespal SP@G yahoo.com)

    NAME: All Hope Abandon
    AUTHOR: Eric Eve
    EMAIL: eric.eve SP@G hmc.ox.ac.uk
    DATE: May 2005
    PARSER: TADS 3
    SUPPORTS: TADS 3 interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware; IF Archive
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/tads/AllHope.zip
    VERSION: 1

    Only a well-done game can successfully combine such elements as a rather
    detailed plot, puzzles of all sorts, a theologically dense theme, and Greek
    alphabet characters. "All Hope Abandon," though the prospect seems dizzying in
    retrospect, does all of the above and somehow manages to seem somewhat natural.
    This feeling of being natural is not inherent; this is especially apparent early
    on when the player is quickly thrown into the deep end at which point the game
    world seems like a disgruntled fairy tale. Thankfully, this "fairy tale" feeling
    soon dissipates into the more interesting scheme of the game.

    The player is cast as Dr William Fisher, a New Testament scholar, who at the
    opening of the game is found listening to the lecture of the deranged Professor
    Wortschlachter. Earlier at breakfast, William had met a pretty blond woman who
    somehow also ends up trapped in Limbo land (though the reason this happens is
    never adequately explained -- I think on purpose). Apart from adding a little
    romance to the story, she serves to symbolize the theme of hope throughout the
    game.

    The text is not overly complex or "purple," but is sufficient and usually easy
    to read. Sometimes the writing even has a slight pinch of wit, such as in the
    introductory text. The game is very detailed -- even unnecessary objects are
    carefully described. A "THINK" verb is implement which allows the player to
    THINK ABOUT certain topics, and I found the responses to cover mostly everything
    that could be thought about.

    The detail in prose and design is complimented by many puzzles. These puzzles
    come in a range of difficulty, generally becoming more difficult as the game
    progresses. The solutions to quite a few of these at least partially require the
    player to scrutinize every single detail of an important object. This sounds
    tedious, but it works alright because one gets used to the high level of
    implementation and also because the puzzles all at least require some level of
    critical thinking besides just examining. The game is structured so that it is
    quite easy to finish the game without having solved all the puzzles, and thus
    without having tied up all the loose plot ends. This is a result of the
    integration of the narrative and the puzzles, and gives the game more
    replayability than most interactive fiction games out there.

    Even with its great puzzles and well-done story, "All Hope Abandon" would be a
    mediocre game if it was riddled with bugs and grammatical errors. This is not
    the case; it is clear that the game was carefully tested. Everything works as
    expected, and it does not appear possible to get the game into a state that was
    not anticipated by the author. I must report that I did find one accidental
    typo; however, but if you can get over such things it will not lessen the
    quality of the game for you.

    In conclusion, "All Hope Abandon" by Eric Eve is an extremely well-done work. I
    would definitely commend it to your "to play" list if you have not played it
    yet. If you never play it, you should know that you are missing out on one of
    the best games to be released last year.

    From: Valentine Kopteltsev (uux SP@G mail.ru)

    I know, I know -- a decent review has to start with some smart preamble on a
    more or less abstract topic; unfortunately, I couldn't think of any for All
    Hope Abandon. So please excuse me just for this once, and let's move on to
    business.

    The theme of this game is probably best defined as "subconscious jorney".
    However, if the author was trying (please note the conditional mood) to
    create a dreamlike atmosphere that suggests itself for a work of that kind,
    he didn't succeed too well. Anyway, no matter what the author's intentions
    were -- the game more than makes up for it by providing a stunning cocktail
    of adventure, theology, and romance, all that spiced with a good shot of
    irony. Several ways to victory are laid through it; and although the
    denouement is rather predictable at the end of the day -- the rich,
    intentionally anachronistic setting full of gadgets to fiddle with, and the
    considerable variety of the paths provided make it worth replaying the game
    several times to try out each of them.

    Another aspect of All Hope Abandon, which was especially pleasant personally
    for me: it doesn't act overly symbolic, although, again, it'd be very much in
    the tradition of the genre. You know, symbolism is just not my mug of beer,
    and games relying on it too much often leave me puzzled. On the other hand,
    the fact AHA sets forth its main ideas clearly enough doesn't mean it's as
    uncomplicated as a game as I am as a person;) -- I'm sure that players more
    skilled at interpreting symbolic links than myself will be able to enjoy the
    game on additional levels that remained inaccessible to me.

    From the technical point of view, the game is faultless. In comparison with
    the previous version, TADS 3 added several interface enhancements (for
    instance, let's mention the menu-based built-in hints, and the topic
    suggestions mechanism of the conversation system) on its own. All Hope
    Abandon not only makes extensive use of these facilities, but introduces, in
    its turn, a few more. The most interesting ones are the THINK ABOUT command,
    and the ability of the player to look in a specific direction. The first
    feature is one I've been looking forward to for a long time. Particularly in
    this game, it seems all the more appropriate since the protagonist has some
    "specialist knowledge that most players will probably not share"; besides,
    it's smartly used in one of the puzzles. The second one probably wasn't as
    challenging to implement from the technical point of view, but means A LOT
    additional work for the game author (ten extra descriptions -- eight for
    compass directions, and two for LOOK UP/DOWN -- in each room); even taking
    into account they're more terse than the "main" room description, and that a
    few of them are similar -- it's still a feat worthy of esteem.

    At this point, I've taken a pause and looked at what I had written so far.
    You can bet on it -- I'm utterly disappointed with the results: All Hope
    Abandon is a great game that deserves an outstanding, or at least a memorable
    review, not the generic stuff I sullied the (virtual) paper with. Of course,
    any reviewer will tell you it's much easier to write a memorable review for
    a flawed game; sure enough, All Hope Abandon doesn't offer much in this
    respect. At best, one could complain about the puzzles being too easy, which
    isn't much of a drawback as times go, and the most sceptical among the
    players would probably point out that the whole romantic plotline is a bit
    unrealistic, considering the protagonist and his beloved barely knew each
    other; well, I consider myself a cynical person, but not cynical enough for
    not believing in love at first sight, so this was OK for me. Still, the
    unsufficient flaws of the game are a pretty lame excuse for my review being
    so insipid.

    I think the problem is, All Hope Abandon just arrived at a wrong point in my
    life. The effect is like paying a visit to the British Museum at the very end
    of an exhaustive sightseeing day trip through London: the overstrained
    tourist feels there's a lot of things to admire, but the emotions just aren't
    there. Thus, in spite of my review probably not sounding too enthusiastic,
    let me assure you -- this game is a great work suitable practically for any
    players, ranging from novices to the versed ones, and represents a glorious
    showcase for the opportunities the new version of TADS offers.

    SNATS (Score Not Affecting The Scoreboard):

    PLOT: Predictable, but still gripping (1.3)
    ATMOSPHERE: Motley mix (1.5)
    WRITING: Manifold, and splendid in its every manifestation (1.5)
    GAMEPLAY: Relaxed trip for the most part (1.4)
    BONUSES: Rich setting, fine irony, the THINK ABOUT command (1.4)
    TOTAL: 7.1
    CHARACTERS: Memorable enough (1.3)
    PUZZLES: Well-clued and logical (1.2)
    DIFFICULTY: On the easy side (4 out of 10)

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: Mike Snyder (wyndo SP@G prowler-pro.com)

    TITLE: The Baron
    AUTHOR: Victor Gijsbers
    EMAIL: victor SP@G lilith.gotdns.org
    DATE: March 31, 2006
    PARSER: Inform 6
    SUPPORTS: Z-code (Inform .Z8) interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/springthing/2006/baron.zip
    VERSION: Release 1

    The Baron deserves a spoiler-free review.

    The difficulty is it's a game that can barely be discussed at any length
    *without* spoilers. I think this one is as spoiler-free as you'll find, but
    *anything* said about The Baron might be too much. In other words, reader
    beware.

    The author's introductory text describes the story's theme as disturbing,
    shocking, and tragic. On the surface, it's about a missing girl and the father
    determined to save her from her captor, the evil Baron. I use the word
    "evil" because the game does ("x photo" in your bedroom, near the
    beginning). After that, it's left up to the reader. What kind of monster is
    the Baron? Can he be redeemed, or should he die? Is he a monster at all?

    The story (if ever a work of Interactive Fiction wasn't a game, this is it)
    begins in a cave. You must slay the dragon, because nobody else will. I found
    no way to achieve this, but later events make it clear that you don't have to.
    After this, the main quest begins. Along the way - and it's a journey that
    feels much longer than it actually is - you encounter three obstacles. These
    are decision points, not puzzles. Each obstacle can be overcome in numerous
    ways. Not every way is obvious in a first play-through, and some of the
    multiple-choice decisions won't even make sense the first time. It should
    really be played at least twice. The second time, your decisions are likely to
    be wildly different - not because you're poking around for changes to the
    story, but because you will understand the story in an entirely different way.

    Before setting out toward the Baron's castle, look around the house first. At
    the Baron's castle, it also pays to poke around. Even though the story lacks
    puzzles, it features bonus material for the observant reader. A torture
    chamber, found through a hatch under a rock at the castle, hints that things
    aren't exactly as they seem. Well, not so much that, but it's a good
    indication that the author is relying on symbolism to enhance the story.

    In relating what has happened at the *end* of the story, the PC mentions
    nothing of a dragon. It stands to reason that the story's first scene was
    someone else's experience. If this is the case, it might have made more sense
    for the dragon to approach from a southern lair, while the PC stands firm.
    When it ends, the story offers no congratulations. You haven't won. You
    haven't lost. The final choices allow the player to affirm his or her
    convictions. The story doesn't tell *you* what's right and what isn't. *You*
    tell the story.

    What I expected from The Baron wasn't what I got. In his introductory text,
    Gijsbers does a good job of preparing the player. Actions should be taken
    because they're meaningful in the situation, not because they "solve a
    puzzle". My first reaction was "sure - I've heard this before." I can't
    help but treat IF as a game - even when the author tells me not to - because
    every decision affects the outcome. In The Baron, that's not the case. Some
    decisions affect the PC's dialogue at the end, but none of it affects the
    experience of the *reader* except to the extent that the decisions themselves
    are part of the experience. So, even though the author warned me that it
    wasn't a game, I tried to play it like a game. I expected something dark and
    sinister. I expected torture, helplessness, suffering, and perhaps victory in
    the end. The story delivers these things, but in an unconventional way... in a
    disturbing, shocking, and tragic way.

    If all of this leaves you wondering just what you might be getting into if you
    try The Baron, by all means read a spoilery review. Even though this could
    soften the punch of experiencing it for yourself, you might be doing yourself
    a favor. You may say to yourself "bah - I can handle blood and gore and text-
    rendered pain." If that's what The Baron actually had in store for you, a
    disclaimer would be unnecessary.

    It's difficult to say if The Baron hits the mark, without knowing what the
    mark was. The final choices in the walkthrough included with the Spring Thing
    version (available from the HELP menu) might be how the author imagines it.
    Most of us won't be able to feel compassion or empathy for the Baron, though -
    let alone identify (thank goodness) with the story itself. So, are these final
    decisions meaningful to us, as readers?

    With precious little else to be said without delving into spoilers, some
    discussion of the design and craft is fitting. The story file is in .Z8
    format, written in Inform. The English translation of the Dutch original (also
    included) is surprisingly good. Aside from a few typos, not much in the
    translation detracts from the experience. Even with a second play-through (or
    read-through) of some of the story, I found it easy to complete in an hour and
    a half. Certain bits - especially the dialogue - are presented in multiple
    choice lists. The rest of it, however, manages to maintain the traditional IF-
    style command system. You move around a map. You get, drop, and examine
    things. You open doors. You take an active part, just as IF is meant to be.

    It's hard to describe The Baron as a *good* story, in the way a game can be a
    *good* game. It's an *effective* story. Appreciating it doesn't mean *liking*
    it. Even so, I can imagine the opinions of various readers will vary wildly.
    Some may say it was emotional. Some may say it wasn't. Some may say it was
    purposely manipulative. Some may say it was an honest and heart-rending story.
    Some may resent becoming an unwitting participant as the story unfolds. Some
    may describe it as grim. Some may feel entirely detached from it. Some may say
    it will receive accolades it doesn't deserve, while others may believe it to
    be unfairly criticized. Some may even say it's a story that didn't *need*
    telling.

    I say... nothing, except that it was an interesting experiment. In the context
    of the Spring Thing competition, it's far too short (even adding a replay or
    two). I was moved (I'm a parent - how could I not be moved?), but this alone
    doesn't make it a clear winner when this year's competition features three
    other very good games. Scoring it is even harder than reviewing it. After some
    thought, I have settled on a middle-of-the-road score. It succeeds as
    Interactive Fiction, and it doesn't pretend to be a game. It fails as
    entertainment (for me), even though it's more like art for the sake of
    emotion. In another context, it might be a "9" or a "10". It should prove
    to be one of the most memorable works of 2006, regardless.

    My Spring Thing score: "6"

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: José Manuel García-Patos (josemanuelinform SP@G josemanuel-gp.jazztel.es)

    TITLE: Damnatio Memoriae
    AUTHOR: Emily Short
    EMAIL: emshort SP@G mindspring.com
    DATE: March 1, 2006
    PARSER: Inform 7
    SUPPORTS: Z-code (Inform .Z5) interpreters with blorb support
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://plover.net/~emily/DM
    VERSION: Release 3

    Once upon a time there was this guy in Greece -- ancient Greece, that is -- who
    set fire to some very important temple (Athena, maybe?). The reason why he did
    so was simple: He wanted to be famous. What did the other Greeks do? They forbid
    any mention of the incendiary's name. They condemned him to oblivion. That's
    what the title of the game, Damnatio Memoriae, means. And that's what the player
    must avoid in it: To be forgotten.

    No, that's not true. The game's real goal is not to get caught by your enemies,
    as in any other game. Posterity is secondary. Let's say it's a plus. I don't
    think that's a flaw, but I would've liked a *** You have died ***-like message
    every time you had managed to survive but not to save your memory from
    destruction. I would've liked to see a game where your life wasn't the most
    important thing at stake. (Has a game like that ever been written? One where the
    last message would be *** You have died, but you have won ***?) Also, I would've
    liked to read some thoughts on the subject of fame and posterity, because the
    story really had potential for that.

    Damnatio Memoriae shares a similar design pattern with Galatea. In the latter,
    the reactions of the NPC depended on several variables, and the ending was the
    verbal expression of the final values of those variables. Here you have your
    life and your fame. And the ending depends on the final values of both. This
    always reminds me of this Japanese show, Takeshi's Castle, where participants
    were put inside a giant ball and thrown down through what looked like a
    Tartaglia's triangle pinball. The outcome depended on whether they fell on safe
    or death spots. With this system, it doesn't really matter if you choose A or B,
    because the result is the same. Only the value of the variables change. Also,
    you can end up taking the B path even if you had chosen A earlier.

    My own storytelling concept is quite different. I think of interactive stories
    as trees. And trees are nothing but lists with a common root. So, interactive
    stories are a bunch of different linear stories that, depending on the player's
    choices can lead to lots of different endings. I find games designed like this
    easier to write and to plan, and more human, because it lets the story evolve
    almost without constraints. Doing things the other way seems confusing to me.

    And now that I'm dealing with theoretical aspects, let me mention a detail that
    I consider a wrong way of doing things. If you have already played Damnatio
    Memoriae and the ending ever caught you in the other location, you'll have
    noticed that you're brought back to the original room and offered again a full
    description of it. The reason why I think this is wrong is because it breaks the
    rhythym of the narration. I'm not talking about this particular game or about
    the author, but about the system that produced it. Why are Inform games
    organized by location instead of being organized by sequence? Remember the
    opening sequence of Touch of Evil? Why can't IF games do things like that? Let's
    suppose you have this PC who's talking with a friend while walking down the
    street. Are you going to interrupt the conversation every time they
    turn a corner? Let's suppose you have a PC who's being chased by the police. Are
    you going to interrupt the chase every time the player types E or S to offer a
    boring description that nobody would care about at that particular moment? If
    games were organized by sequence, only each one's opening location's description
    would be offered and the rest could then be simply asked for. To me this makes a
    lot more sense, and also leaves freedom to the author to write a narrative text
    and make the story advance instead of offering a description that's always more
    or less the same.

    But, finally, the good news. I liked the game. Really. I did. It was short, so
    it didn't get boring. Actually, when I reached the ending for the first time I
    thought: Hey,this is it? I want more. Also, it was easier than most of her other
    games. By easier, I mean the interaction was easier. For example, in Savoir
    Faire the non-standard verbs drove me crazy. It was like watching one of those
    pretentious B/W indie movies. It's not me the one who has to adapt to your
    style, it's you to mine, stupid filmmaker! But in this case, I liked the story
    (I love the Romans) and I could take the time to learn how the special commands
    worked, because the learning gave almost immediate results. Also, I think it is
    Emily's best written game.

    [Final note: Oh. In case anyone was thinking: You uneducated freak! It was the
    temple of...! And the guy's name was...! I know perfectly well who the temple
    was dedicated to, and who the incendiary was, and even the exact date when that
    happened, but I'm not doing him a favour even by giving you hints about him.]

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: David Wanaselja (wanaselja SP@G gmail.com)

    TITLE: Dracula Part I: The First Night
    AUTHOR: El Clerigo Urbatain
    EMAIL: urbatain SP@G gmail.com
    DATE: September 5, 2005
    PARSER: Inform
    SUPPORTS: Glulx interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: freeware; IF Archive
    URL: http://www.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/glulx/Dracula_The_First_Night.zip
    VERSION: Release 6

    Occasionally I get the urge to play some gothic horror game, featuring vampires,
    werewolves, and all the other sorts of unnamed horrors that lurk below the
    surface of the night.  Thankfully, Interactive Fiction has its fair share of
    this genre, some excellent, some average, and some just plain awful.  While
    Dracula Part I: The First Night falls between the average and just plain awful
    categories, it does have some redeeming qualities that make it worth playing for
    the 10 minutes it takes to complete.

    Dracula Part I: The First Night is a remake of the Rod Pike game Dracula,
    released in 1986 on the Commodore 64.  Actually, it's a remake of the first part
    of Rod Pike's Dracula game.  The authors have promised the second and third
    parts are forthcoming, and I can't imagine what is taking them so long, as this
    first part literally takes less than 45 minutes to see all it has to offer.
    [As of this publication, the second part of the trilogy -- Dracula: The
    Arrival -- has just been released. --ed.]  Throw in the fact that it is a near
    identical game to the original, and I'm left wondering why they didn't just
    remake Pike's original trilogy in full.  The text is ripped directly from the
    original, and although the graphics have been redone, almost everything else is
    the same, aside from some minor additions.  The differences are few, but using
    the Inform parser is by far the greatest improvement.  The original was clunky
    and hard to manipulate, but this version is far easier to handle by comparison.

    The story is of John Harker, who is on his way to meet his "client," no doubt
    Dracula.  Harker has arrived at the Golden Krone Hotel in the Carpathian
    mountains for a brief respite before continuing his journey.  It is told from
    the first person perspective, with the parser constantly demanding the player
    "tell me what to do."  This first person narrative is fairly entertaining, but
    is punctuated by far too many exclamations and instances of bad grammar and a
    few misspelled words.  Seems understandable when you realize that the first
    language of the author is Spanish, but unforgivable when you think about the
    fact that the text is nearly identical to the 1986 version.

    The main puzzles hinge on what you have to eat and drink for dinner.  Some are
    more difficult to manage than the others, but all are fairly simplistic.  There
    are some interesting graphics that pop on screen for these interludes, probably
    the most improved aspect from the original aside from the parser.  Depending on
    the puzzle and how you die (if you fail) you get a different picture.  They also
    threw in some familiar music to add ambience at this point, so turn up those
    speakers.

    By far the most annoying part of the game is the fact that it makes assumptions
    about what the player knows.  Have you examined everything before you've tried a
    particular course of action?  If not, you may find yourself in a bind at one
    point or another, which will lead to your death or failing to complete the game.
     It's not a big loss, as you'll always be able to "undo" your last move or just
    play through again since it's so short.  However, it is a tad annoying.

    Overall, Dracula Part I: The First Night suffers greatly from its short length
    and questionable prose.  If the game was less remake and more makeover, it would
    work far better and be a much more successful game.  The fact that parts 2 and 3
    are not yet available (excepting the Commodore 64 originals) also puts a damper
    on the enjoyability of this title.  As it stands right now, Dracula: The First
    Night is a below average game that offers almost no real reasons to play through
    it, aside from the pretty graphics, and the fact that you can finish it while
    waiting for your wife to get out of the bathroom.  Once parts 2 and 3 become
    available, it will be well worth it.  Until then, it feels like a text adventure
    from 1986 that needs to be reworked badly.

    From: Mike Tulloch (Poster SP@G aurora.cotse.net)

    To be fair from the onset, Dracula the First Night (DTFN) is a remake and a
    translation of an older game, and the initial splash screen captures well the
    spirit of the old EGA graphics while conveying a hint of mystery. Still, this
    screen reads, "Remaked by..." and unfortunately, that signifies what lies in
    store.

    Immediately you're given the option of choosing maroon text on black or gold
    text on blue. (Ugh.) The EMPHASIZED WORDS IN ALL CAPS grate the nerves as does
    the chat-like sentence construction...a bunch of short phrases and half-
    sentences...arranged like this. Spelling errors are legion; the writing tone is
    utterly bombastic and overwrought; exclamation marks deluge the player! Yes,
    this is the familiar topography of the Penny Dreadful and the 1950's B-movie.
    Was this what the author wanted to achieve? I suspect so.

    Most of the puzzles are simple and appropriate, except for one. It's a timed
    puzzle that you'd never know was timed until you lost the game. To solve it, you
    have to do something non-obvious a priori. (Argh.) Some puzzles involve rather
    improbable scenarios, such as waking up carrying everything that you were
    holding before you went to sleep. This detracts from the atmosphere but then
    again, that may have been an intentional nod to, or spoof of the horror genre.

    As for mechanics, the parser seemed lacking. Examining anything but an object
    with an Examine routine returns the result for the coded object. There are a few
    doors, but you can't knock on them because the parser doesn't recognize that
    word. The same goes for answer, table, and many others. However, because the
    puzzles are simple, you don't have to play "guess the verb" very often.

    DTFN does exploit other features of Glulx, such as full-window graphics and
    music. These graphics are presented after long sections of text as a way of
    visually enhancing the effect. The last graphic presents a well done panorama of
    your destination. The music consists of a simple synth organ which begins when a
    graphic appears and pauses only when a new graphic appears. (Ow.) Though well-
    played, the classical MIDI melody oozes cliche`s.

    The verdict? I salute the author for creating a game in Glulx. I've tried and
    found the going awfully rough. The game includes random elements that make each
    time through slightly different but not overly so. That's creative. And the
    graphics, though sparse, do effectively enhance the atmosphere. The plot works
    well for a game of this length -- fifty turns once you know the way. However,
    the parser, the writing, the grammar, and the colors prove very trying.

    If you are expecting a modern Glulx game, I'm afraid that DTFN isn't it. The
    author isn't a native English speaker but he deserves some credit for his work;
    that's why I give this game a solid 3. If you're a fan of the old-school EGA
    games and/or IF with graphic touches, of course, you might enjoy Dracula: The
    First Night much more. An hour or so of retro diversion awaits you.

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: Mike Snyder (wyndo SP@G prowler-pro.com)

    TITLE: Pantomime
    AUTHOR: Robb Sherwin
    EMAIL: beaver SP@G zombieworld.com
    DATE: March 31, 2006
    PARSER: Hugo
    SUPPORTS: Any Hugo Interpreter or GLK Hugo
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/springthing/2006/pmime.hex
    VERSION: Release 1.00

    In the early morning minutes of October 1st, 2005, a list of IFComp entries (at
    the official IFComp website) showed 50 or so potential games. As titles were
    knocked off the list (probably because the authors never completed and uploaded
    them), the list dwindled down to 36. For those of us online at the time, it was
    an interesting thing to watch. Among those original intents, though, was Robb
    Sherwin's Pantomime.

    Now released for Spring Thing 2006, it weighs in on the light side (considering
    the competition's focus on medium- to long-sized games). As an intended IFComp
    entry, this makes sense. From chatting with Robb at his Hugo forum, I know that
    it took much effort and some sleepless nights even to finish for the Spring
    Thing deadline. Even short and perhaps rushed, Pantomime is a solid game with an
    entertaining story.

    In Pantomime, you live on Phobos, currently a moon of Mars, but soon to break
    apart into an orbiting ring of debris. It's the last place anyone would choose
    to be, even before the crisis. It's a world where cloning is commonplace, robots
    named after Unix commands are a man's best friend, and being good at chess is
    cause for embarrassment. This is a vision of the near future.

    I've only played the beginning of one or two Robb Sherwin games prior to this.
    That's probably why my reactions bounced between "whoa. did he really say that?"
    and "wow. what's it going to be *next*?" Somehow, even if he's holding back, it
    doesn't *feel* that way. Aside from a few typos - probably the result of the
    hurried effort to meet the deadline - the writing is great. It flows better
    because it's more casual. It's not just *how* Sherwin writes - it's also *what*
    he writes: the insults between characters, the one-off jokes, the clever
    descriptions and bits of back-story. I usually cringe at coarse passages and
    lowbrow humor in a game, but that's part of what makes Pantomime so interesting.
    Sherwin seems to write it in a convincing, honest way.

    Pantomime is what an episode of Futurama might be, if the script came from
    Cartoon Network's Williams Street crew and it aired on HBO after hours. The
    little censor that lives inside Robb Sherwin's mind has a freedom not given most
    other IF authors, save maybe Adam Thornton. I mean, if a wacked-out robot needs
    to sport a cloned copy of a male porn star's money-maker, Sherwin will work it
    into the story. And it'll be *funny*.

    The game *is* meant to be funny. I think. It's sometimes tongue-in-cheek humor.
    It's *definitely* black humor, where the absurd and the macabre come together.
    It might be an allegory for some of today's issues, but if so, I didn't really
    get that. More likely, it's just a strange but fascinating story.

    The puzzles aren't difficult (generally just a matter of figuring out what
    action to take to move things along), and inventory is almost non-existent.
    antomime is very story-driven. The most difficult bit may have been passing the
    spiked gate, but even that obstacle yields to some creative but simple reasoning
    (okay, okay - I solved it by blind luck and experimentation, but it made sense
    afterwards). Even the second-to-last confrontation doesn't require anything more
    complicated than following instructions and listening to the bad guy's diatribe.
    This should be particularly appealing to anyone who prefers IF to be more
    *fiction* than *game*.

    A few minor bugs remain in the competition release. They range from typos to an
    odd exit back to Kangaroo's Club - nothing game-killing. This seems to happen
    more toward the end. What's most likely to work against Pantomime, though, is
    that it doesn't seem long enough for a Spring Thing game. It also glosses over
    the additional detail in most places, when it comes to interacting with (even if
    only to "look at") scenery objects. Knowing Hugo, I think this could be fixed
    easily, even without real objects. Just add an "extra_scenery" property to each
    room, with lists of keywords that will cause a different reference message. It
    means the difference between something "not there" when it really is, and simply
    being "unimportant".

    A few plot points left me confused. Who sent me the vial? What was the purpose
    of the seemingly unnecessary gate code? And how drunk was Sherwin when he came
    up with the interaction that helps the PC escape the airlock? Other than that,
    everything is wrapped up tidily at the end, where a couple of fitting plot
    twists are thrown in.

    I enjoyed Pantomime, and I recommend it - especially if an update comes after
    the competition. Without hints, I finished in two and a half hours (plus some
    re-play of select earlier bits). It's definitely a game that wouldn't have been
    out of place in the annual IFComp, but even snack-sized by Spring Thing
    standards, it's a worthy entry.

    My Spring Thing score: "7"

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: Mike Snyder (wyndo SP@G prowler-pro.com)

    TITLE: The Potter and the Mould
    AUTHOR: Robert Street
    EMAIL: adrift.reviews SP@G gmail.com
    DATE: March 31, 2006
    PARSER: Adrift
    SUPPORTS: Adrift Runner and GLK Adrift
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/springthing/2006/mould.zip
    VERSION: Release 1

    The superhero genre isn't my favorite. I've never been a big fan of larger-
    than-life, hard-to-believe super powers. Sure, I enjoy the comic-based movie
    from time to time - Superman with his flying, strength, and x-ray vision;
    Spiderman with his spider-sense and web-slinging; Batman with his. super wealth;
    X-Men, of course. I've been known to read a superhero comic, although not
    recently. I've played superhero IF once or twice.

    In essence, I'm not the ideal fan for The Potter and the Mould. This is a story
    for superhero fans, and it comes complete with all the trappings. Origin story?
    Check. Mutant-like powers? Definitely. An imperfect, self-doubting protagonist?
    Uh huh. The mentor/student relationship? You bet. An evil but misunderstood
    villain? Sure. Motivation by revenge? Of course. It's everything you'd expect
    from a superhero story.

    What I like best about The Potter and the Mould is that it keeps moving. It will
    appeal most to superhero fans, but it's a frenetic and fast-paced adventure that
    kept me enthralled for the four hours it took to complete. It *feels* more
    difficult than it really is, which is a credit to the author's talent. The
    puzzles aren't hard enough to impede the action, yet they leave a sense of
    accomplishment in their wake. My longest sticking point involved a machine-room
    and a clay dog. After solving it - which was easier than I tried to make it - I
    realized that the puzzles were simple and understated. They work to keep the
    story moving, not to work against it, and that's probably the best kind.

    In most cases, Robert avoids text-dumps by way of action prompting. This
    typically comes as a nudge from an NPC, beginning with the rescue scene at the
    beginning, through Waterfall's revelations in the mall, to the hurried trip to
    the Potter's inner sanctuary. It works very well, and keeps things interactive.

    The story has some surprises and twists. It strays from the predictable formula
    particularly near the end. Even though I appreciate the change-up, the victory
    felt less than satisfying. It was like facing down Dr. Evil, and getting a back
    -stabbing Mini-Me instead. What follows is an exciting bit, but not what I
    expected.

    The writing in this, Robert Street's latest game, left me puzzled. Even though
    I've commented about this in prior reviews, it seemed more noticeable here;
    equally hard to pin down, but more prevalent. It could just be his style, but
    I'm not convinced that's it. Too many sentences (even some in close proximity)
    ended awkwardly with the word "though". There was a glaring lack of contractions
    throughout the text - not always, but in certain passages - making it more
    awkward. This alone isn't a sticking point, but coupled with some awkward
    phrasings in general, it just didn't always read *right*.

    Take the following - just one random example from hundreds of lines of text:

    "The shops in this corner seem to be trying to outdo each other with silly
    displays."

    The words "seem to be trying to" are the awkward bit. I might write this as:

    "The shops in this corner strive to outdo each other with silly displays."

    These kinds of things weave themselves throughout the text. The removed bit was
    clunky and passive. The replacement flows better, and it's more active. I
    usually qualify these kinds of comments with a reminder that I'm no expert. I
    have to look two or three times to figure out just what it is about a sentence
    that bothers me. Even in the example above, I might change "each other" to "one
    another". At times, the text in The Potter and the Mould felt like a first
    draft, as though it had been written once and then left alone. At other times,
    the text felt too heavily edited, as if the smooth flow and original expression
    had been lost under the weight of so much revision. Which the case may be, I
    don't know. Like I said, it might just be the author's unique style.

    Robert didn't skimp on details. Even though this is an ever-moving game, the
    extra effort shows in the responses, from looking around to trying various other
    actions. This isn't always the case in story-heavy works, where the only
    important thing is doing exactly what advances the plot. I liked that The Potter
    and the Mould stood up to some prodding.

    The hero's premise, now that I've come to it, is that he can "mould" his shape
    into various things. Robert implemented this in a logical, user-friendly way.
    Mould options are task-specific and presented in a list. This maintains the
    illusion that you're really able to morph into anything, where free-form input
    (John Evans's games come to mind) makes this very difficult. It also gives the
    PC some say-so as to how the player proceeds. In other words, the PC dreams up
    these forms so the player doesn't have to. More than that, it eliminates the "I
    tried to become a diamond-tipped drill, but it didn't work" complaints, at the
    expense of limiting the player's options. Occasionally, this let me figure out a
    puzzle where I wouldn't otherwise have had all the facts, but all in all, it was
    a good design.

    Next comes the obligatory Adrift discussion - but I'll keep it short. I'm a fan
    of Adrift's auto-mapping, even if I found some necessary exits unmarked on it.
    It can be a crutch sometimes, and I probably shouldn't have tried to rely on the
    map as much. I'm not a fan, however, of Adrift's pick-apart parsing. I call it
    that, because I don't know if it has a real name. This is most problematic when
    commenting a transcript. If you type something that has the word "undo" anywhere
    in it, Adrift believes you intend to undo your last move. If you comment about
    "he" or "she", Adrift starts matching pronouns, leading to some interesting
    responses. Knowing nothing about its inner workings, I still get the impression
    that grammar isn't built the way it is in Hugo and other IF languages. Adrift
    makes plenty of assumptions, and it doesn't conform to any grammar rules. If it
    finds what appears to be a verb, and what appears to be a noun referencing a
    known object, it reacts. At times, such as when it reacts on an NPC you haven't
    encountered yet, it can even be a little spoilery.

    Even though I'm not a superhero fan, I enjoyed The Potter and the Mould. It was
    trippy, but it was fun. It's a solid game, and a credit to the author's
    experience.

    My Spring Thing score: "8"

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: Mike Harris (M.Harris SP@G spi-bpo.com)

    TITLE: Threnody
    AUTHOR: John Schiff
    EMAIL: john SP@G dopplerfx.com
    DATE: March 13, 2005
    PARSER: TADS 2
    SUPPORTS: HTML TADS interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/springthing/2005/Threnody.zip
    VERSION: Release 1.0b

    Threnody bills itself as "a lighthearted, puzzle-rich fantasy game" and as such
    hits the mark.  The backstory is a pedestrian "castle full of treasures" meme,
    with the mildly interesting twist that in addition to treasure “points”
    accumulated, each of the NPC’s has a "Catena" which must be located and
    destroyed to "release" the NPC, a tally of which scores in a parallel point
    system.

    The player must choose at the beginning whether the PC will be a warrior, wizard
    or thief, as well as the gender of the PC.  While the former affects what
    options the PC has available to solve portions of the game, the purpose of the
    gender choice seems only for fleshing out the story thread.  The verbiage is
    standard "fantasy 101" with the exception that objects’ and sometimes NPC’s
    descriptions contain horrible puns.  The title NPC is a talking cat and is
    generally helpful as a guide but which purpose seems more to further the story
    than the game.  I delight in both bad puns and cats; those not so enamored might
    find the game less charming.

    I prefer to be very methodical when playing IF, searching and examining
    everything in a room and solving as many puzzles as possible before moving on to
    the next room.  This approach works poorly with Threnody.  Those who prefer a
    brief visit to every accessible room before beginning any puzzle solving in
    earnest might find Threnody less frustrating.  Firstly, objects that might aid
    in solving puzzles are often available; I did a lot of guessing.  Secondly, many
    rooms and locations are empty, there as "place holders."  Lastly, the game is
    full of objects that seem to be nothing more than red herrings.

    This leads us to bugs.

    It is possible to locate and destroy the Catenas of some NPC’s before
    encountering the NPC’s themselves.  While the disappearance/destruction of the
    NPC should mean its absence when its location is eventually found, this is not
    always the case.  Taking the Catenas to unusual locations to be destroyed will
    sometimes trigger the same bug.  In any case, this bug allows the game to be put
    in an unwinnable state as the NPC can not be vanquished.  I also stumbled upon a
    sequence of moves that "recreated" the Catena of one particular NPC, which I
    could then destroy repeatedly for points.

    In some cases there is more than one way to "beat" the NPC, but I found another
    bug involving engaging a NPC in a game of chance using an object found
    elsewhere.  While defeating the NPC in the game of chance should achieve
    success, and the NPC states that you can take the (blank) because you’ve won,
    any attempt to actually do so results in the pre-defeat response.

    I found the "red herrings" to be frustrating as well.  While they may not be
    true "red herrings" but have some purpose in solving puzzles when the PC is in a
    different iteration, their sheer number gets tedious – "open (blank) with
    (blank)"; "put (blank) on (blank)" is fun for the first thirty or forty tries
    but does start to pall once one gets into triple digits.  Furthermore, while the
    PC’s carrying capacity is large it’s not unlimited.  Three quarters of the way
    through the game I found that I was no longer able to pick up objects and had to
    decide which objects in my vast inventory to jettison, hoping that I would not
    rid myself of anything truly useful in the process.

    While some puzzles are ludicrously simple, some are so difficult that I had no
    recourse but to refer to the hints or the walkthrough.  There is some trouble of
    the “guess the verb” variety but in many cases there seems to be no way to solve
    the puzzle except through brute force, trying every possible combination hoping
    that one works.

    Some minor squawks – default responses sometimes come up when the story would
    dictate otherwise.  For example, upon entering a room there are often lavish
    descriptions of furnishings, floor etc., further examination of which elicits
    "you see nothing special about the (blank)" type responses, or directly
    contradictory responses – "The floor is made of large slabs of a dark, rough
    stone" after the description states something very different.  The story
    emphasizes the importance of the Catenas to the NPC’s, but (with the exception
    of the title NPC) showing the catena to the NPC elicits a default "(NPC) is not
    impressed."  And speaking of "guess the verb," during play I could often not
    recall the term "Catena" or names of NPC’s and more generic descriptions such as
    "man," "crystal" or "blue" were ineffective.

    In summary, while Threnody is a mildly entertaining diversion exactly as
    advertised, its flaws and generic storyline made it less than compelling.  The
    optional graphics are very much like the game itself – workmanlike, well
    executed but ultimately unremarkable, and doing little to enhance the storyline.
    Once played through as one PC I had no desire to play more than a small amount
    with the PC in a different iteration, just enough to get a feel for that
    particular PC and some of the differences in puzzle solving.  On a scale of 1 to
    10 I would rate it a 5 for difficulty and an overall rating of 5.5 to 6.

    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    From: Mike Snyder (wyndo SP@G prowler-pro.com)

    TITLE: The Warlord, The Princess & The Bulldog
    AUTHOR: David Whyld
    EMAIL: dwhyld SP@G gmail.com
    DATE: March 31, 2006
    PARSER: Adrift
    SUPPORTS: Adrift Runner and GLK Adrift
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/springthing/2006/warlord.zip
    VERSION: Version 1

    It's not the next chapter in The Chronicles of Narnia (and if no other reviewer
    makes the same joke, I'll be surprised). David Whyld's Spring Thing 2006 entry,
    written in Adrift, reprises the exploits of mercenary bad-ass Stavros "The
    Bulldog" McGrogan in a sequel to his earlier A Spot of Bother. It's up to The
    Bulldog to sneak, fight, grunt, and puzzle-solve his way to victory against the
    evil Warlord, Baron Grishtak.

    At times, this is a contradiction. From the start, the goal is clear. I don't
    mean the goal of the story (which is also clear), but the goal of the game
    itself. Finish the three primary objectives with full health for a score boost,
    and pick up more points for solving puzzles rather than pushing past them with
    brute force. This opens the game to a variety of play styles, but that "best
    score" objective is the carrot dangling just beyond reach. The Bulldog loses
    life points when he fights, and without a clear idea of how to gain them back
    (let alone how many can *be* regained), my inclination was to avoid fights and
    slink about the castle solving puzzles, preserving every point of health
    possible. So much for being a bad-ass.

    Even though I enjoyed the game using this strategy, I might have enjoyed it
    more if I hadn't been aiming for a perfect game. In the end, it didn't matter.
    I didn't complete one of the three objectives, and I won with a score of only
    80 and health of 90. The ending - and the death ending too, when I purposely
    let The Bulldog get pounced by The Tiger - was still satisfying.

    Things take a bit longer when you play for points. Instead of beating up the
    bad guys, I lured them into traps, tricked them into leaving, or simply avoided
    them entirely. When I stumbled into traps or lost health in unexpected ways, I
    opted to "undo" or "load" a prior save, so I could try another approach. This
    made the game tougher. To get it all right the first time, I would have needed
    to read the author's mind. The interesting thing is that this was just another
    way of playing the game. With a different objective - let The Bulldog fight
    enemies and bully his way past the tough parts - it doesn't require psychic
    powers. It's a fair system which rewards do-overs without making do-overs
    essential to win.

    I've mentioned "health points" several times. If you have visions of RPG stats
    and random dice-rolls - especially if you don't *like* those things - take
    heart. That's not how WPB works. Think of it as the antithesis of a scoring
    system. When you earn "score" points, it's for completing a task, reaching a
    milestone, or hitting some score-worthy trigger. These are things built into the
    game, and the points are set. If you play much IF, you've probably seen this in
    action. WPB has this *in addition to* its health point system. Points come off
    by making mistakes, or in other predetermined ways that involve alternate puzzle
    solutions. Sometimes, these mistakes (especially in facing enemies) can be
    repeated, but on the whole it's more like a credit system. The Bulldog is
    extended so many of these "mistake" points, and he spends them as necessary.

    The beauty is that making these mistakes usually gets The Bulldog past puzzles.
    For instance, there are several ways to pass the landmines near the beginning of
    the game. One way in particular saves The Bulldog from damage entirely. Other
    ways leave him only slightly scathed (or perhaps unharmed, but with the loss of
    something that might be the key to avoiding damage later). Of course, stepping
    into it (with persistence) solves the puzzle too, at the expense of a chunk of
    health.

    It's designed to be winnable, no matter how low your health becomes. The more
    damage The Bulldog takes, though, the fewer risks he can endure. Suppose this
    drops to a single remaining point. The game remains winnable, but every
    additional obstacle must be overcome with brains instead of brawn. This can
    become *very* difficult. Health can be recovered, but I never was quite sure
    how much. If I recall, I healed about 30. The Bulldog has suffered some prior
    to the start of the game, beginning with 63 health. Health of 100 is considered
    "full". It may be possible to recover more than 37, making it possible to take
    damage and still finish with full health. I never figured out the max. It's just
    as possible that every method in the game adds up only to a total of 37, meaning
    a perfect win requires a totally unharmed Bulldog. Maybe a better player than I
    - or Whyld himself - will say for sure.

    Really, it's a clever design. I can't think of a single puzzle that didn't
    have two or more solutions. The easier the solution, the fewer the points (and
    often, the more damage The Bulldog would take). Because my goal had me going
    after the toughest of each solution, I hit the built-in help often. After only
    a short ways into the game, I was requesting every hint available in every
    room. In a way, this became just another tool, like "undo". Instead of cheating,
    it seemed more like a part of the game. Some hints even felt more like puzzles
    to solve. Even *with* hints, it was often difficult to work out the best (most
    rewarding point-wise) solutions. Without them, though, I never would have.

    This all makes it difficult to say just how tough The Warlord, The Princess, and
    The Bulldog is. I solved many of the puzzles with easier solutions at first,
    costing The Bulldog only a few points of health. I would have finished faster -
    and possibly without so much reliance on hints - if I had just pressed forward
    from those points. I suppose it ranges from "challenging but not overly
    difficult" to "one step down from impossible", depending on what approach you
    take. Mine was more on the side of the latter.

    Whyld has done an excellent job of anticipating much of what players may try.
    The implementation level alone is amazing. Very little encountered in the game
    lacks first, second, even third-level implementation. If you look at scenery
    that has parts, you can look at those parts. You can often *interact* with those
    parts. If those parts have parts, they're probably implemented too. It pays to
    really inspect what's around. Even though much of it is optional, enough digging
    can bring up the keys to alternate puzzle solutions.

    The prose in WPB is dotted with amusing passages. Generally, Whyld isn't trying
    for real comedy - and if so, it probably wouldn't have worked here anyway. It's
    more the "ah ha, that was funny" kind of subdued but cliched humor you'd expect
    from a story in which the hero only grunts yet everybody understands what he
    means. When Baron Grishtak writes a letter to his ace henchman - subsequently
    obtained by The Bulldog - he admits that he "foolishly jotted down the access
    code to the master computer on the bottom of it." He goes on to encourage his
    henchman to destroy the letter after reading it, for that very reason.

    As to the presentation, the author held nothing back. My first fifteen minutes
    were spent just reading the introductory material - details about the game,
    additional commands, the intro, etc. The game font size can be adjusted via the
    command prompt. Screen-clearing at each room change can be turned on or off
    (personally, I liked it on - it was easier to quickly scroll up and reread room
    descriptions that way). Around four different fonts were used - one for room
    headers, one for the room description, the default font for most game messages,
    and a script-style font for letters and notes. It may sound like a hodgepodge,
    but it works well (if you're using the Adrift runner and your Windows-based
    computer has those fonts) and it set WPB apart from other games in terms of
    style.

    To now, it may seem as though I have no complaints about The Warlord, The
    Princess & The Bulldog. A big game, though, has more room for things to go
    wrong. None of these problems (in my play-through, anyway), were game-killing,
    but they ranged from mildly annoying to completely preventing (or, at times,
    *allowing*) certain solutions. My transcripts note quite a few typos - not
    surprising in a game of this size and complexity, but still minor dents in the
    proverbial finish. Weirder quirks included things like the non-working pendant
    (it worked once, but after a subsequent "undo" or "restore", shaking it didn't
    work even though it still had 3 charges); being able to enter the guards'
    training courtyard in a "they're gone" state, even though they shouldn't have
    been; a reference to a voodoo doll in the hints, which doesn't seem to be in the
    game (Adrift will usually respond to objects it knows, even in other places, and
    it didn't know that one); being able to break the panel in the sleeping quarters
    repeatedly; I didn't realize it at the time, but the "code to the master
    computer" is too long to work in either of the computers found later in the
    game; some available exits were unmarked on the map; some exits described in the
    text didn't work in the game; you can't "undo" to before a hint screen; I
    couldn't get "exit" to work (even though it was supposed to), when trying one of
    the codes; A seven-letter password scattered throughout the castle appears to
    have two fifth letters; it's possible to set the watch before winning, so that
    it goes off during the final scene; a few other miscellaneous quirks.

    As the game progressed, these things either became more common or more
    noticeable. Maybe it was the cumulative effect, but my faith in the game's
    internal consistency was shaken. If I felt at all guilty about reliance on
    hints, the feeling passed when I thought that maybe the game was broken just
    enough to *prevent* the solutions I needed for a perfect win. This may not be
    true. From my experience, the bugs that persist after beta testing are usually
    the bugs in sections that *aren't* vital - else they would have been worked out
    already. Nonetheless, it's a reminder: the better the polish, the higher the
    faith.

    Most of the design works great. The health point system contributes to alternate
    puzzle solutions, and alternate puzzle solutions are abundant. The hints,
    although cryptic at times, are helpful. Even so, a few specific parts left me
    cold. One very early puzzle (the one that avoids a loss of health - an easier
    but damaging alternate does exist) requires waiting a few turns after taking
    action. I was impressed that the game allowed the particular action, but I
    thought I had messed up - so I did an "undo". Speaking of "undo", you can
    unwittingly make a move that disables it, in what I can only describe as a prank
    perpetrated by the author. It's by no means a necessary (or even an obvious)
    move, but some players will try it. I found no way to re-enable it, aside from
    reverting to a prior save (or starting over). One obstacle requires that you
    lose everything in inventory. The hints describe a way to keep most of it, but
    it requires repeating an action (and it's even possible to undo a failure,
    repeat, and succeed the second or third time).

    As a Spring Thing entry, WPB is fittingly sized. My play-through - taking most
    puzzles the hard way and relying heavily on the built-in hints - was eight and
    a half hours. Despite the flaws, I enjoyed the time I spent with The Warlord,
    The Princess & The Bulldog. An incredible amount of effort was put into this
    game, and it really shows. A post-competition release could address the
    remaining problems, making it even more recommendable.

    My Spring Thing score: "9"

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     ___. .___    _    ___.     ___.
    /  _| |   \  / \  / ._|    /  _|
    \  \  | o_/ |   | | |_.    \  \
    .\  \ | |   | o | | | |    .\  \
    |___/ |_|   |_|_| \___|    |___/ PECIFICS

    SPAG Specifics is a small section of SPAG dedicated to providing in-
    depth critical analysis of IF games, spoilers most emphatically
    included.

    WARNING! SPOILERS BELOW FOR THE FOLLOWING GAME:

    The Baron

    PROCEED NO FURTHER UNLESS YOU HAVE PLAYED THIS GAME!

    THIS IS NOT A TEST! GENUINE SPOILERS TO FOLLOW!

    LAST CHANCE TO AVOID SPOILAGE!

    From: Dan Shiovitz (dans SP@G drizzle.com)

    TITLE: The Baron
    AUTHOR: Victor Gijsbers
    EMAIL: victor SP@G lilith.gotdns.org
    DATE: March 31, 2006
    PARSER: Inform 6
    SUPPORTS: Z-code (Inform .Z8) interpreters
    AVAILABILITY: Freeware
    URL: http://mirror.ifarchive.org/if-archive/games/springthing/2006/baron.zip
    VERSION: Release 1

    In my review of The Baron for the comp, I mostly just said "I'm pretty sure this
    is not like any IF game you've ever played before" and left it at that. But this
    is a SPAG Specifics review, so I'm going to assume everyone's played the game
    all the way through, and will feel free to get into the nitty-gritty details of
    how and whether I think the game works.

    To get some stuff out of the way, I'm not particularly impressed with the
    writing or storyline here. I think it's too obvious early on that weird stuff is
    going on with the daughter, the "the PC is actually a bad guy!" plot has been
    done before (in Bliss, for example), and most of the actual plot elements feel
    more like setpieces than real places or NPCs -- you got your generic dragon cave
    (bone flooring optional), your generic village, your generic forest, your
    generic ruined castle. So given all that, why did the game work so well for me?

    The first time the game astonished me was when when I typed >KILL WOLF on the
    young wolf after I killed its mother, and the game *asked me why I was doing
    it*. Man, even now I am still blown away by how cool that is. When this
    happened, the game essentially defined a whole new reason for why IF is
    interesting. We've talked in the past about buzzwords like "exploration" and
    "agency" and "complicity" to name things you get out of IF that you don't get
    out of static fiction, but The Baron defines a new one -- justification.

    There have been hints of this kind of thing in the past. Piece of Mind, for
    instance, has a famous section where the player is challenged by the game's
    protagonist over the rightness of the action the player's typed in. And
    obviously there are plenty of games where the PC has to make a moral decision.
    The thing is, in almost cases the moral decisions involved in those games are
    lame, or not really a decision at all -- the game clearly identifies one of the
    decisions as right and the other as wrong.

    The game-design insight in The Baron is that by shifting the moral judgement
    onto the player, the decision suddenly becomes much more interesting, because
    now the player (and not just the PC!) has direct personal stakes. This is sort
    of similar to how you can make a storyline more involving by presenting it in
    nonlinear order: in that case the player gets involved in the plot because they
    have to piece it together themselves. In this case they're involved in the
    decision because then they're asked to justify it -- not to the game, which
    would be trivial, but to themselves. The game establishes that the PC has been
    doing something bad for a long time, and is on the verge of doing it again, and
    nothing more. The question of how bad a person this makes the PC is entirely up
    to the player, as are the punishment for and future consequences of the PC's
    actions.

    When The Baron gets away from asking for justification, it tends to lose its way
    a little bit. The scenes at the beginning in the dragon cave and at the end in
    the ruined castle are examples of this: the symbolism comes off as heavy-handed,
    and none of the PC's actions matter. Which is an interesting objection, since
    the PC's actions don't really matter elsewhere either -- there's only one place,
    right at the end, where you have the power to alter the storyline in a
    significant way.

    The point seems to be that, again, the PC's actions in The Baron are meaningless
    except as they're evaluated by the player: your actions with the wolf don't
    matter except that the gargoyle forces you to discuss them. I'm surprised that
    the initial scene with the dragon never gets a similar kind of discussion -- the
    choice to fight or run, and the question of whether failure is really inevitable
    fit in just fine with the rest of the game, but without discussion they aren't
    particularly important.

    So where to from here? I would be totally interested in seeing new games use
    this one as a jumping-off point. The thing I would most like to see is if
    there's a way to restore some agency to the player here -- The Baron focuses so
    tightly on the moral decisions that it makes the PC's actions irrelevant to the
    course of the narrative even if they're relevant to the player. It seems like it
    must be possible to have a game where the PC's choices are significant both
    in-game and out of it. But The Baron is still seriously ground-breaking, and I
    hope in a few years we can look back and see it make the same kind of impact on
    IF design that Photopia or A Mind Forever Voyaging did.

    As one final closing note, Victor Gijsbers is involved in the modern RPG scene,
    and it's hard not to think that The Baron is strongly influenced by trends
    there. Like, here's a quote from Ron Edwards defining Narrativist gaming, the
    closest RPG trend to what Gijsbers's game is about:

      Story Now requires that at least one engaging issue or problematic
      feature of human existence be addressed in the process of
      role-playing. "Address" means:

      Establishing the issue's Explorative expressions in the game-world,
      "fixing" them into imaginary place.

      Developing the issue as a source of continued conflict, perhaps
      changing any number of things about it, such as which side is being
      taken by a given character, or providing more depth to why the
      antagonistic side of the issue exists at all.

      Resolving the issue through the decisions of the players of the
      protagonists, as well as various features and constraints of the
      circumstances.

    Sounds familiar, hunh? This is from
    http://www.indie-rpgs.com/_articles/narr_essay.html -- somebody interested in
    working on a game like The Baron would be well-advised to check it out.

    Even if you're not interested in a game that's as non-standard as The Baron is,
    there's plenty of RPG theory and craft that still applies: how to set up a
    scene, how to cut between scenes, how to build storylines that allow for and
    adapt to the PCs doing surprising things. The modern IF community has gained a
    lot of valuable insight from static fiction and other types of computer games,
    but RPGs have been mostly absent as an influence since Colossal Cave. It's
    probably time the IF community starts looking at another interactive
    storytelling medium and seeing what techniques they have that we can learn from.

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