I have played a few text adventures the past months, and here’s a brief excerpt from one4 The Dreamhold; Andrew Plotkin; self-published; 2004. Playable online.. This transcript begins when we have exited the starting area, and just begun to explore what lies beyond.
CURVING HALL, WEST END
The curving corridor ends here, in a blank plaster wall relieved by a single window. The window looks out on a strange subterranean prospect to the west. You can return east, pass through the archway to the north, or try the closed door to the south.
> look at window
A broad glass pane looks out over a dark cavern. This end of the corridor seems to be deep underground. A natural cave spreads out below; its mammoth columns and cascades of flowstone are only dimly picked out by the candlelight behind you. The farther reaches are hidden in darkness. But the shining waterfall before you is easily visible. A stream pours in from your right, tumbles from a ledge, and plummets into a pit beneath the window. The water seems to sparkle with some natural phosphorescence.
> break window
The glass ignores your assault.
> enter archway
ARBORETUM
The walls here are painted white and are utterly undecorated. An archway leads south. In the center of the room stands an earthenware tub. From it sprouts a tangle of vines, broad fan-like leaves, and an enormous golden flower. The luxuriant growth clashes, you think, with the room’s stark emptiness.
> look at flower
The plant sits alone in its pot, in the center of the empty room. The golden flower is nearly the size of your head. It rises from a tangle of vines and leaves that would better suit an unexplored south-coast swamp than someone’s home.
> take flower
The plant’s stems look too thick to break.
> smell flower
You lean forward and take a deep breath of the flower’s aroma.
Memory nearly bursts through.
This moves us to
DANK JUNGLE (IN THE EARTHENWARE TUB)
You are standing waist-deep in an empty earthenware tub, in the midst of a trackless jungle.
Heavy, entangled trunks and vines loom in every direction, as far as you can see – and you can’t see far. The sky is entirely obscured by layers of vegetation. Only a murky green light filters down to you. But golden flowers dot the trees, like bursts of sun.
An iron key is balanced neatly on the edge of the tub.
> take key
Taken.
> get out of tub
You swing your legs out of the tub, and find the world swinging around you…
This moves us to
ARBORETUM
The walls of the room are painted in green slashes, like the trunks of uncounted trees, and splashed with gold. An archway leads south. A hint of sweet-rank perfume touches you as you breathe.
> inventory
You are carrying an iron key.
We explored a space in a building set into a cave, and smelling the flower got us transported … into a memory? Or literally miniaturised and into the tub? We were able to bring the iron key, after all. Did we even emerge into the same room, given that the description changed? It’s not made clear, and this ambiguity is okay in text – each reader will get to play their own preferred version of the game.
Of course, this is a game by an author that is known for abstract mechanics. There are also games that are far more traditional in their mechanics. When I stop playing Plundered Hearts5 Plundered Hearts; Infocom; Infocom; 1987. Playable online. I can almost hear the chirping of the jungle and the lapping of the waves against the island where I’m stalking around a large house trying to figure out how to get into the ongoing ball.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise. Novels – and spoken stories – have transported readers to fantastical locations for ages. But I still didn’t know text adventures could be so immersive.