Netwrck
What the Board Cannot Say
For four hundred years the pact between the village of Nettlefold and the Walking Wood has been kept by reading it aloud, forty-one lines at a time, every Samstag night.
- ~54 min (estimated)
- 11988 words
- 28 scenes
- 14 branch points (script estimate)
- 6 endings (script estimate)
25 recorded plays (one per visitor per day)
No cover art yet · art review pending · listing metadata: importer · counts: script-heuristic
About
This winter the sap is drying out of the board in thumbprint patches, the lamps are being dimmed to save oil, and the ironwood called Vessil has begun stepping over the East Mark. The pact has no line for what happens when it is broken, because in four hundred years nobody would agree on a consequence, so a breach is not an event that happened. It is an event that is always about to happen, again, tonight, to somebody. Nettlefold is two hundred people on a gravel ridge in a cold hollow: a lit lane at eleven paces, an oil foundry, a scriptorium, a hundred and one windows that must be counted every night. Outside the lane the Walking Wood stands up out of the ground at dusk and moves, and has done for as long as anyone can remember. For four hundred years a border has held between them. It holds because it is read. The pact is a document and not a spell. Forty-one lines of birch bark, writ
Content noticeNo author notice
The author has not written a content notice for this novel.
Cast
- I Ilva no portrait yet
- P Perrin no portrait yet
- W Warden Vall no portrait yet
- V Vessil no portrait yet
- E Elder Ashdown no portrait yet
- T Tace no portrait yet
- M Marda no portrait yet
- S Sixpence no portrait yet