Davout As many of the reviewers here have noted (or should have noted), this piece must be understood within the context of its creation: as the text-engine that drives an interactive, multimedia experience. For those reviewers who wonder about the use here of Second Person POV, in this particular situation it's specifically designed to allow both male and female, young and old of any and all backgrounds, to seamlessly enter into the role of the protagonist. Thus, no particularly useful descriptions of the protagonist. They're not missing -- the story is designed to leave them out. For those of you who've never tried writing in 2nd Person, give it a try. It's astonishingly difficult. It's even more difficult when, because of its use in a game environment, the protagonist has no gender and no discernable identity. Rather than criticize elements that are missing (though I do agree with Rosa, even more can be inserted to let "us" know what we're doing, what we're feeling), as an author, I marvel at the challenge of it. Having to erase all the male- or female-oriented perspectives, so as not to pinpoint the character (a character with no name, yet!), is an incredibly challenging assignment. But you carry it off well. Despite some early reviewer's protestations of, "No, I wouldn't do that!", I felt perfectly at home allowing the story to carry me along on the road to Manor House. I accepted whenever the protagonist did something not-me, by thinking, "Well, this is me in another person's body," just as we (as readers) stand inside the head of a traditional character and listen to their thoughts as them. Your pacing is excellent, and deserves much more than a five. The way the protagonist searches for clues is compelling and draws us into thinking this is an actual flesh-and-blood person, not just a two-dimensional construct. Of course, being the inveterate Doubting Thomis that I am, I would have searched for articles about Uncle's death in Switzerland from the local papers, maybe hunted up the death certificate, determined where he was buried (was it in Switzerland? That part's not clear), and only after I was satisfied he was truly gone (or that he'd at least covered his tracks to a point that everyone else thought him gone), would I consider Step Two: To Be or Not To Be Stinking Rich. You allude to Pythonesque humor in your intro, though I'd say the humor is more droll British drawing-room humor than the riotous farces MPFC introduced many of us yanks to. Still, you maintained a light-hearted tone that is not easy when dealing with an invasive recently-departed uncle. As a written piece: challenging beyond most writer's ken, and successful beyond any of our abilities

kismetsauthor One thing I have to ask you; did you grow up with me? Because this has been a secret fantasy of mine since I was a little girl--the long lost uncle that only claims I'm related to him after I've grown. This is such a fun tale, easily transferable to a game or some sort of interactive program. Here's my minor stuff: You know me, I'm the queen of dialogue, so I'd love to see more of it, particularly with the ticket agent for British Airways and the teller at the bank. The bank brings up another glitch for me. "The teller...informs you that the check...can be deposited or cashed immediately." You wouldn't be able to take the full amount in cash without filling out a ton of forms. This comes out to about $50,000 and while it's been a long time since I worked in a bank, I believe you would still have to fill out those blasted treasury forms for any cash transaction in excess of $10,000. The line, "...that was sight the drivers went on about" is garbled and should be reworked. And the directions for the house are in a sealed envelope at the Chauffeur's place of business. How about adding to the mystery by stating that the driver is under strict instructions not to open the envelope until you're in the car? The photos of your 'uncle' show varying lengths of hair, maybe add a blurb that the long-haired pictures are older than the ones of the short-haired, moustached gentleman. The bit about the sentence that only appears if the seal on the envelope is broken. What would be the point of that? Wouldn't it make more sense if the entire letter only appeared when the seal was broken? This would inhibit one from holding the letter up to the light or trying some other means of reading the info without actually opening the letter. Lastly, since he was only supposed to open the letter if he could not decide whether to go to England or not, have Arthur put some kind of reminder in the letter. Something like, "Since you've opened this, you must be having doubts. Now that you've read this, I hope you'll begin preparations for your journey..." Most of what I've suggested here is implied anyway, but I believe in spelling out everything so that the dumbest reader walks away saying, "Wow!" You've got a definite winner here. And I would love to see what 'I' do next! So okay. To end this, I'll play the part of the dumbest reader (typecasting, to be sure!) and just say, "Wow!"