Overview
About this game
You take a deep breath of salty air as the first raindrops begin to spatter the pavement, and the swollen, slate-colored clouds that blanket the sky mutter ominous portents amongst themselves over the little coastal town of Anchorhead.
Anchorhead is a text adventure game in the style of classic Infocom games from the 1980s. No graphics, no menus, no point-and-click — you navigate a written story using typed commands, and read what happens next.
Travel to the haunted coastal town of Anchorhead, Massachusetts and uncover the roots of a horrific conspiracy inspired by the works of H. P. Lovecraft. Search through musty archives and tomes of esoteric lore; dodge hostile townsfolk; combat a generation-spanning evil that threatens your family and the entire world. A sprawling, meticulously detailed setting, brought to life by finely crafted prose and illustrated with dozens of spine-chilling illustrations, ensures that the story will stay with you long after you finish playing the game.
A sullen belch emanates from the clouds, and the rain starts coming down harder — fat, cold drops smacking loudly against the cobblestones. Shouldn't it be snowing in New England at this time of year? With a sigh, you open your umbrella.
Welcome to Anchorhead . . .
Anchorhead is a text adventure game in the style of classic Infocom games from the 1980s. No graphics, no menus, no point-and-click — you navigate a written story using typed commands, and read what happens next.
Travel to the haunted coastal town of Anchorhead, Massachusetts and uncover the roots of a horrific conspiracy inspired by the works of H. P. Lovecraft. Search through musty archives and tomes of esoteric lore; dodge hostile townsfolk; combat a generation-spanning evil that threatens your family and the entire world. A sprawling, meticulously detailed setting, brought to life by finely crafted prose and illustrated with dozens of spine-chilling illustrations, ensures that the story will stay with you long after you finish playing the game.
A sullen belch emanates from the clouds, and the rain starts coming down harder — fat, cold drops smacking loudly against the cobblestones. Shouldn't it be snowing in New England at this time of year? With a sigh, you open your umbrella.
Welcome to Anchorhead . . .
