U:
FXMap[f0.69999999999999996 ffFC:FXMapperSettings{"Box BG Colorl+яяяя"Arrow Colorl+   я"Grid Straight ConnectionsT"Location TasksT"Edit on CreationF"Paths as CurvesT"Create on ConnectionT"Box Number Colorl+ѕѕѕя"Location DescriptionT"Use Room CursorF"Font Objects"times new roman"Grid Diagonal ConnectionsF"Automatic ConnectionT"Font Text"times new roman"Box Border Colorl+   я"BG Colorl+Ё©†я"Grid BoxesT"Location NumbersT"Box Darkness Colorl+ѕѕѕя"All Roads" 0i [U:FXSection[[U:FXRoom[" Scaffold in the City Square" " [U:FXConnection[
Fii[@*U;["Empty Room"&mound
bottle
key
rope
note
glass
"usearch mound
break bottle
cut rope with bottle
get key
get glass
get rope
get note
read it
throw glass at window[U;	[
Fii [@3U;["Stone Passage" ",tie hatch with rope
cut rope with glass[U;	[
Fii [@<U;["Quiet Venetian Street" " [0U;	[
Fi i [U;["Campo St. Maria Formosa"#metal sign
young woman
dagger
" [00U;	[
Fi i [@NU;["Church"ceramic bowl
priest
"!remove ring
put ring in bowl[0000U;	[
Fi i[@WU;["Vestry" " [@]000U;	[
Fii[@`U;["Venetian Streets" "enter darkness[@f0U;	[
Fii[@iU;["Cell, Night" " [000000@o0Fi	i"/The bars of your cell form one wall, the remaining three are solid rock, broken only by the small barred window. There is no bed, there is no bucket. There is no escape, but for you there is hope. You sit and wait for that other direction to become available. Time takes a long time to pass as you wait.F[i i 0U;	[
Fi i[@iU;["Grand Staircase" " [@z0U;	[
Fi i [@}U;["&At the Top of the Grand Staircase"appointments book
pen
" [U;	[
Fi i [@ЃU;["Chamber of the Denizen"denizen" [0000@‡000Fi	i"This room is enormous - it stretches from the doorway south right back along the length of this section of the Palace, so that the large window at the far end looks out over the Square. It would have a clear view of the scaffold, if it were there, and you tense.F[i i 000U;	[
Fi i [@ЃU;[""Office of Giuseppe Florantine" " [@’0000000Fi	i"еThe aide's office is simple enough - cabinets line one wall, and a large desk fills the centre of the room, its piles of paper extremely organised. The aide himself is seated in a deep chair behind, looking up at you expectantly.F[i i 0@~0Fi	i"_You stand at the top of the wide, magnificent staircase, facing a large window with a view of a quiet canal. There are two doors here, to the north and south, which make up the public offices of the Palace. According to their signs, the former is the Denizen's chamber, whilst the other leads to the office of one Giuseppe Florantine. Both are closed.F[i i 000U;	[
Fi i [U;["Piazza St. Marco" " [U;	[
Fi i [@ў@E[i i 0@џ00000Fii"?The square is magnificent - a wide expanse in which people mill, and enjoy the sunshine. All that surrounds them is gigantic, from the colossal pillars in the centre holding the statues of the city, to the wall of the Museum with its myriad windows running the perimeter, to the Palace itself, which stands to the east.F@}[i i 0Fii"јThis staircase is the only part of the Palace the mere natives of Venice ever see, a grand mouth leading up to the public rooms and offices of the Dojo's officials. Its stairs are wide, polished marble, and the roof curves low overhead, near so as to intimidate as much as bring into view the wonderful paintings that cover its surface. Some of the finest art of Venice is here, in the little boxes that run up the length of this great passage.F[ii 000Fii"AYou walk through streets and winding alleys, avoiding the canals where the crowds will be. The Captain has one hand on the manacles around your hands, and the sharp tip of metal is ever present on your back. Tall buildings rise impassive on either side, cutting out the sun, and you wonder if you shall ever see it again.F[i i 000Fii"xThe vestry of the church is a modest affair, still candle-lit stone, hung with one large and very beautiful tapestry. The priest's desk takes up most of the floor space, covered in scrolls of paper, a selection of quill pens, with a very deep inkwell in one corner. This is before the window, so that the light streams over his shoulders from where he sits, half-blinding you.F[i i 0@T0Fii"ЬAir is still here, resting between the candelabras on either wall, bowed before the altar at the far end. Each wall is awash with paintings; saints and saviours grace every surface in vivid colours and swirling movement.F[i i 00@K00Fii"Here the alley opens quite suddenly into a wide plaza, with a fountain in its centre and a high church at the eastern end. A myriad of passages and streets, some as thin as the one from the southwest which you entered by, others wider yet more twisting, lead off in several directions.F@E[i i 0@B@Ё000Fii"The alleyway is a typical shaded Venetian street, its walls barely a shoulder- width apart, rising three or four stories high on either side. The plaster is cream, and a few thin wiry balconies emerge on either side, dotted with flowers, looking small and crumpled in the shade.F[ii000@9000Fii	"ЖThe stones are grey, and dim with no light to help your way. You fumble for the walls in dotty blackness, just making out the heavy door to the south and the rough-cut steps which lead away upwards.F[i i 000@0000Fii
"fThe light is dimmer here, the stones are cold. You are in a wide room, Gothic arches rising rib-like to the buttressed roof. Pigeons flit between crevices in the stone, their wing-flaps echo like sharp thunder. Dust spirals in the two slices of light from the crack windows by the roof. Perhaps this room is mainly underground, with the slots at earth-level.F[i i 000U;	[
Fii[@*U;["%In the Crowd, Below the Scaffold" " [@ѕ0000000Fii"ЌPeople surround you, pushing to see, baying like wolves. All except the old man by your side, and his daughter, who looks on dispassionately.F[i i 000Fii"fYour head is pulled back, held by the rope pressing on your throat. Your toes pivot on a rickety stool, which shakes as your legs shake. The crowd filling the square are chattering like monkeys, but they are just flits of colour in the corners of your eyes. You cannot look round - instead you gaze straight across the Square, to the great dial of the Clock.F@3@<@E@N@W@`@i@}@Ѓ@•@Љ@ў@r@Б[@0@9@B@K@T@]@f@z@~@‡@’@Ё@џ@o@ѕ0U;[[U;["Bedroom"coin
slip of paper
"open blinds
read paper[000000U;	[
Fi i[@ОU;["Corridor" " [U;	[
Fi i[@ЧU;["Inn" " [0000@Э000Fii"yThe stairs open out onto the main room of the inn. A long bar offering a multitude of bottles - which you sampled a fair few of last night - runs along one wall, above a smudged old mirror. A few customers sit at tables already, workers after the night-shifts and merchants enjoying the morning off. The landlord himself is firmly ensconsed, and waves a cheery greeting to you.F[ii 0@Ф00000Fii"ZThe upstairs corridor of the inn is short enough, just leading to your room on the east and the other - west - which you presume is the landlord's own. The staircase in the corner runs down to the main room and the front desk. No other exits, no windows, no skylight. The staircase curves so that at the top you cannot see if anyone is coming up.F[i i 0Fii"ўYour room - in the inn, above one of the smaller canals, in heart of the ghetto area of the city, as far from the Hanging Square as you could hope. The window looks out over the canal, but the blind is closed now, and only a little light leaks through. You lie on your bed, pushed up against one wall, facing the door which leads west. It is a simple room, just a sink and chair for furniture, but secure all the same.F@Ч@а[@Ф@Э0ii