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Dead Girl; Moonmist Final

The examination quest.

Playing Moonmist

The opening sequence requires that the player (called from here on the “sleuth”) enter a gate guarding the famed Tresyllian Castle. The moment teaches us how to play the game, as most problems in Moonmist are solved with the command triad “EXAMINE, EXAMINE, ACT.” Sometimes SEARCH is substituted in, but the general idea holds.

>examine gate
In the moonlit gloom, you can make out an ornament on the gate. It's a winged, two-legged dragon called a wyvern, which crests the Tresyllian family's coat of arms.
The dragon appears in profile. The moonlight glints on its lone visible eye.

What next?
>examine dragon
In the moonlit gloom, you can make out an ornament on the gate. It's a winged, two-legged dragon called a wyvern, which crests the Tresyllian family's coat of arms.
The dragon appears in profile. The moonlight glints on its lone visible eye.

What next?
>touch eye
The dragon's eye glows red. Evidently you just pushed a button. A voice comes from a hidden speaker. It says:
"Please announce yourself. State your title -- such as Lord or Lady, Sir or Dame, Mr. or Ms. -- and your first and last name."

From there, we players are able to name the sleuth and choose their gender. No explicit gender question is asked. Instead, Moonmist requests that the player enter a title “such as Lord or Lady, Sir or Dame, Mr. or Ms.” along with the sleuth’s name. Moonmist compares the input against a list of known gendered titles, and, if no match is found, then Moonmist consideres the sleuth’s gender unknown. Otherwise, it will assign gender when possible according to the data available.

Moonmist recognizes 11 titles and one alternate spelling.

<ROUTINE TITLE ()
<COND (<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?MRS> <TELL "Mrs. ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?MS> <TELL "Ms. ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?MISS> <TELL "Miss ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?LADY> <TELL "Lady ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?DAME> <TELL "Dame ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?MADAME ,W?MADAM> <TELL "Madame ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?DOCTOR ,W?DR> <TELL "Dr. ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?LORD> <TELL "Lord ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?SIR> <TELL "Sir ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?MISTER ,W?MR> <TELL "Mr. ">)
(<EQUAL? ,TITLE-WORD ,W?MASTER> <TELL "Master ">)>>

Moonmist doesn’t, in fact, make much of the player’s gender, but its cultural background radiation evokes the character and tone of Nancy Drew stories. The cover art for Nancy Drew novels in those days–the middle 1980s–depicting her tiptoeing up stairs and opening dusty old chests serves as a model for the way we players might imagine the sleuth.

That isn’t to say that there aren’t meaningful differences in gender portrayal. Lord Jack will kiss you “warmly” in front of a room full of people (including his fiance) if the sleuth’s gender is “female.”

"My fiance, Lord Jack Tresyllian," Tamara introduces him. "Jack, this is my friend from the States, Ms. Fiona Lux."
"So you're that famous young sleuth whom the Yanks call Ms. Sherlock!" says Lord Jack. "Tammy's told me about the mysteries you've solved -- but she never let on you looked so smashing! Welcome to Cornwall, Fiona luv!"
Before you know it, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you warmly! Let's hope Tamara doesn't mind -- but for the moment all you can see are Lord Jack's dazzling sapphire-blue eyes.

This weird moment–it is weird, isn’t it–receives no follow up. Jack doesn’t try to kiss us again. If we make our own attempt, we find that the script has recovered its sanity.

>kiss jack
Tamara flashes you an angry look.
"I say! You Americans are frightfully friendly!" says Lord Jack.

Alternately, if a male sleuth attempts to kiss Jack:

>kiss jack
Tamara flashes you an angry look.
He looks at you as if you were insane.

Most differences are definied by sentence or even word-level responses. The sleuth might be called “luv” or “chap,” for instance. They might either “curtsy” or “bow.”

After establishing the sleuth’s gender and identity, the player is asked to choose a “favorite color.” This decision is a less-than-obvious way for players to select one of four possible “stories” in Moonmist. Without question, the presence of multiple mysteries is the single most-discussed characteristic of Moonmist. In each of the four possible paths, the player finds different solutions to two gameplay objectives: determine the identity of the “White Lady” haunting the castle and locate Lionel’s hidden treasure.

Infocom had experimented with multiple routes before: Mike Berlyn’s Cutthroats featured three shipwrecks for the player to explore. Writing about its technical limitations in 2022, I suggested that Infocom had not found in Cutthroats a way to situate a middle ground between the large and the bad. Perhaps this is too harsh. I wouldn’t call Cutthroats bad today, but I do feel that it does not adapt realistically to its technical constraints.

There are some improvements. Cutthroats selected a shipwreck completely at random after several turns of play. Moonmist allows the player to choose. The ramifications of the choice are unhelpfully obfuscated, though.

"And what is your favorite color, Ms. Drew?"

While we know today what this question means, its significance is not telegraphed to new players. It never says so, but Moonmist only recognizes four colors. If an unrecognized color is chosen, then a “valid” one is selected at random. Playing every route might prove to be a kind of “guess the color” problem, though at least the valid colors are likely suspects.

<GLOBAL COLOR-WORDS
<PLTABLE <VOC "YELLOW" ADJ> ;FRIEND-C
<VOC "RED" ADJ> ;LORD-C
<VOC "BLUE" ADJ> ;PAINTER-C
<VOC "GREEN" ADJ> ;DOCTOR-C
;<VOC "VIOLET" BUZZ> ;OFFICER-C
;<VOC "ORANGE" BUZZ> ;DEALER-C>>

Note that in the above passage the bottommost colors, “VIOLET” and “ORANGE” have been commented out, as they were not featured within the released game. This detail is especially noteworthy because the four routes that we do have feel spare and underimplemented. It’s surprising that Moonmist was initially scoped for more content!

It’s a Mystery

With our choices made, the sleuth proceeds to enter the castle, where the main dramatic questions of the plot are asked. For a short number of turns, it really does feel that we readers have entered the text of a Nancy Drew story. We are introduced to a number of familiar types that, while not particularly vivid, do generate nostalgic–for lack of a better word–vibes.

A young couple are dancing to the faint sound of rock music from a portable radio on a table nearby.
The girl is a stylish London deb type. Her dark hair is cut boyishly short. Her height and figure would make her a perfect high-fashion model.
He's a tall blond, sporting a white dinner jacket and scarlet cummerbund. He moves with the elegant swagger of a Guards officer and young-man-about-Mayfair, both of which he is.

Jimmy Maher has–quite reasonably–pointed out that this dancing seems out of place, and yet I find that it has an enjoyable “how do you do, fellow kids” savor to it. It is interesting that the sleuth’s attractiveness–if she is a woman, that is–is an ongoing point of discussion. Ian, the young man in the scarlet cumberbund, kisses her hand:

"I say!" exclaims Ian, bringing your hand to his lips. His glance runs swiftly over your face and figure with an air of expert appraisal. "Are there more girl sleuths like you in the States, my dear?"

Other introductions follow: Dr. Wendish, the eccentric scientist, art dealer Montague Hyde, and artist Vivien Pentreath.

At a dinner party, the voice of deceased Jack’s deceased uncle emerges from a carved bust.

>examine bust
The bronze bust is hollow. When you lift it from its shelf, you discover a small tape recorder underneath, with an elaborate clockwork timer. Evidently the timer was set to play the tape during the usual dinner hour on this date.

This Encyclopedia Brown-style contraption advises us that Uncle Jack has hidden a treasure within the castle, and that he has left clues behind for Jack to follow. The note addresses Deirdre, the deceased (or missing) former fiance of Lord Jack, though if this is awkward for the sleuth’s friend Tamara, we are never told so.

The other mystery is that of the “White Lady,” the ghost haunting Tresyllian Castle. Sightings of her have risen sharply, and servants believe that Deirdre’s death is to blame.

Mechanically speaking, Moonmist‘s multiple routes do not offer meaningfully different experiences. One character will begin wandering the castle at random once dinner is over. The significance isn’t what the character is doing, as they do not do much. Rather, it is the fact that they do anything at all. For instance, we players ought to take note of this sentence:

Vivien is searching.

This is enough to tell us that Vivien is our suspect, so we go to her room and search a box there–not once–but twice, and discover the ghost costume.

>search box
[Which box do you mean, the wooden box or the small plastic box?]

>wooden
Inside the wooden box is Vivien's diary, so you stop searching.

>get diary
You are now holding Vivien's diary.

>search box
[Which box do you mean, the wooden box or the small plastic box?]

>wooden
Inside the wooden box are a shimmering white gown and blonde wig, so you stop searching.

(Congratulations, Ms. Box! You've identified the ghost!)

Finding the treasure involves solving a sequence of clues–each is a clue to finding its successor–until the treasure if found.

Dead Girl

Once the ghost is identified, we are offered a chance to read “the authors’ version of the crime.” There is, of course, in most paths, an actual deceased young woman that might or might not haunt the imaginations of Jack’s dinner guests: Deirdre, Jack’s former fiance. It isn’t clear when Deirdre died. We know that she lived in a house “just down the beach.” We also know that “flirting” between Deirdre and Ian led Jack to break things off.

However long ago it was, it Jack apparently found comfort in the arms of his secretary, Tamara. While some endings indicate otherwise, it seems at initial glance that Deirdre’s death (and possible suicide) has made no mark on the unsentimental hangers-on at Tresyllian Castle. If the sleuth asks flirtatious friend Ian (who was not similarly cut off) about Deirdre, his response is rather bland.

"Poor thing, her life came to a sad ending."

Hilariously, Jack says the exact same thing. Dr. Wendish says a little more, though he begins in the same way:

>ask wendish about deirdre
"Poor thing, her life came to a sad ending. As did her grandfather, whom I treated at my clinic."

Perhaps there is established etiquette among the English aristocracy for characterizing the untimely deaths of young women! To find an approximation of human sympathy, we must ask the artist Vivien.

>ask vivien about deirdre
The artist shrugs with a sad, wistful smile. "What can I say? Deirdre was a most unusual girl... utterly unworldly... almost fey. She grew up in a cottage not far from here, you know. Her drowning was a terrible tragedy... and yet... sometimes I'm not sure she WANTED to go on living." She turns her face away to hide a tear.

This feels a bit like the pendulum swinging the other way, doesn’t it? Still, this is the only emotional response to a recent and untimely death that would presumably bother empathetic people of goodwill.

The strangest textual feature of Moonmist is, despite Deirdre’s death being an inciting incident for many of the story variants, the small amount of attention paid the absence of Deirdre. She is mostly umourned. Her body is missing. Her death is really only discussed among the servants who we are meant to see as a superstitious and possibly ignorant lot.

While the underlying stories of Moonmist are composed of emotionally potent materials (young love, death, grief, jealousy), the reality of playing Moonmist is examining a box two consecutive times. We players should be as haunted as Tresyllian Castle, but instead we wander a barely-described knick-knack container. The emotional realities of the game world only reattain focus during the authorial notes describing each ending. For instance, in one story, Lord Jack is to blame for all the trouble:

Lord Jack murdered Lionel in order to inherit the title and castle.
Deirdre was blackmailing Lord Jack to marry her, because she knew he was plotting to kill Lionel. So Jack tried to do away with her, too, by dumping her down the well.
But Jack was wrong in thinking he killed Deirdre. She survived and came back to the castle at night -- to play on Tamara's nerves, since her arrival seemed to be part of Jack's plot; to hunt for proof that Jack murdered Lionel; and to try to frame him for her own "murder" by planting the tiny red jewel in his trouser cuff, until she lost it in the drawing room.

This is all quite interesting, and if our playthrough had featured such details, we would be discussing a different game. Unfortunately, this is something we are told at the game’s conclusion. The sleuth’s own fact-finding efforts do not uncover the story.

Regarding Diversity and Representation

Many readers and critics will be familiar with a Wikipedia list of games featuring LGBTQ representation. Moonmist is one of the earliest entries, citing a bisexual relationship between Deirdre and Vivien. The entire basis for this characterization lies in the ending to one of the plotlines:

Vivien was intensely attached to Deirdre, and she jealously hated Lord Jack for coming between them. When Deirdre accidentally fell down the well, Vivien was convinced that she had committed suicide because she felt abandoned by Jack.
So Vivien began her vengeful ghostly masquerade -- to find proof that Jack was responsible for Deirdre's death, to prick his guilty conscience and make him confess, and to terrorize Tamara, who replaced Deirdre in Jack's affections.

While one could read “attached” and “coming between them” as evidence of a reciprocal relationship, I don’t find the text definitive and, because these details aren’t borne out during gameplay, we are left guessing. My personal reason for not reading these few words as evidence of a mutual relationship lies in the curious details of The Witness and Seastalker. The former’s eccentric treatment of lesbian murder girl Monica and the latter’s queer-coded Commander Zoey Bly, a “delicate beauty” in need of a lesson both quash any impulse I might have to see this characterization in a positive light. Given the wider context of the Infocom catalog, I experience Vivien’s ending as the story of an obsessive creep stalking a young person.

Closing Thoughts

Moonmist is not a single well-developed idea. Rather, it is four minimally-developed ones. Because of the 128K ceiling imposed on Commodore 64 games, there was not sufficient space for developing four separate stories in an atmospheric setting. Simulating multiple NPCs was likewise impossible. Cutthroats (1984) suffered similar problems, although those were addressed with a “wide” common gameplay area with a “narrow” variable track (the shipwreck itself).

While it features well-constructed and appealing feelies, Moonmist uses them as substitute for in-game implementation. This practice was likely an attempt to overcome the 128K ceiling, but readers have received the strategy poorly. Gamers of the day were open to looking up text in supplemental documents in games that did not have text as a central mechanic (RPGs, mostly), but moving text outside of a text game was–and still is–an ill-regarded practice.

Moonmist seems so dependent, culturally, on ideas established by the Nancy Drew series (and, to a lesser extent, the Hardy Boys) that it would be hard to understand without them. A lot of what happens within is based on cultural shorthand. Castles, hidden tape recorders, scavenger hunts, and weightless attraction all invoke a nostalgic ambience that Moonmist calls attention to without ever realizing. Had this text a more singular and deeply realized story, many readers might like it just as much as they wanted to like it.

Next

There are only 13 games to go! Some will be rough going. I have never reached the endings of Border Zone or Nord and Bert Couldn’t Make Head or Tail of It. I’m not sure what will happen there!

The next game on our list is Hollywood Hijinx, a perfectly fine entry in the “treasure hunt in a big, weird house” genre.

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