Continuing my latest attempt at the 64th Fighting Fantasy gamebook, Night of the Necromancer, I now find myself heading for my family home, Valsinore castle. The similarity to the name of Hamlet's home is not to be considered that relevant, as I have neither a brother to blame for my death nor a son to cause mayhem in the course of attempting to avenge it. At the time of posting this playthrough, I do not own a copy of the interactive version of Hamlet, but if I ever do get hold of one, I'll give it a go here.
Enough digressing: right now the gameplay's the thing. Arriving at the castle without further incident, I must now decide how to get in. I could try sneaking past the guards on the main gate with the help of my newly-discovered ability to turn invisible, or crawl through the culvert that carries away the castle's sewage, but first I mean to try and find out whether or not being a ghost confers upon me the power of flight.
My gamebook manager reveals the surprising fact that I've never tried this before. I'd assumed that my memories of the unpleasantness that can occur in the sewage culvert (which is not the sort of bother one might normally expect to encounter in such an environment) were a consequence of an unsuccessful attempt at redefining my relationship with the force of gravity, but it turns out that I didn't even attempt to learn to fly first. Maybe I erroneously assumed that the option was only open to characters that already possessed the ability. When playing a book for the blog, I always read the text that bit more carefully, so it could be that this time round I was paying enough attention to pick up on the lack of 'if you have the relevant ability' text.
Will and Luck determine whether or not I am able to float up into the air, and I succeed at both rolls. As I soar over the battlements, I look down upon the castle, and am perturbed to see that the Keep is in total darkness. Still, heading straight there to investigate would mean missing out on a lot of potential encounters in the Outer and Inner Wards of the castle, some of which may well be essential to success, so I descend on the inside of the wall I just crossed.
Back on home turf, I become aware of a sinister atmosphere overshadowing the place, and see a crowd of ethereal beings circling overhead. In the Outer Ward I have access to the smithy, the stables, the guard barracks, the battlements and the kennels. Having been advised to 'seek out the metal-worker', I make the smithy my first port of call.
My old friend Bertild the smith, one of the few non-evil eyepatch-wearers in fiction, is at work. I'm about to enter and greet her when I notice a line of salt that covers the threshold. Thinking it unlikely that Bertild has been having a lot of trouble with invading slugs and snails, I decide to try and get her attention rather than simply cross the barrier.
Rumours of my death have already reached the castle, as Bertild takes the sight of my spectral form as proof of what she's heard. My post-life state saddens her rather than scaring her, and she wipes away some of the salt to allow me in. I explain what happened to me, and Bertild vows to help avenge my death, which so inspires me that I get another point of Will and a Luck bonus.
I ask if there are any items in the castle that could be of use to me, and Bertild mentions the legendary Amethyst Blade said to be hidden somewhere in the castle. Though its life-draining properties may make it more of a force for Evil than Good. And it might not be possible for a disembodied spirit such as me to wield it. But apart from those minor details, it could be just what I need. There is also the automated suit of armour that Bertild spent the best part of a year building, but Chamberlain Unthank's dread knights confiscated it and locked it away in the Barbican just as she was getting ready to fix the last few bugs.
I would ask about the 'dread knights', but a noise from the forge gets our attention, and we see the flaming coal and clinker transform into two small humanoids that advance towards us. Bertild smashes one of them with her hammer, and my ghostly sword puts paid to the other. Nevertheless, it is now obvious that this place is no longer secure, so I leave before anything else can manifest.
On my first attempt at this book, one of my non-final deaths occurred because I visited a couple of other places within the Outer Ward in the wrong order. That is not a mistake I plan to repeat, so I now head for the kennels. This does cause most of the dogs to get scared and make a lot of noise, but my own hunting hound is delighted to see me despite my changed circumstances, and would probably be jumping all over me and licking me if I weren't so intangible. He accompanies me as I leave the kennels, and will harass any opponents I face (except for the incorporeal ones, whom he can't affect), subjecting them to an Attack Strength penalty. The encouragement provided by this faithful companion also provides a boost to my Will (and a Luck bonus I can't use).
Now I can proceed to the guard barracks. In there, I eventually make it to the Captain's quarters. Captain Cador senses my presence and draws a sword, the silvered sigils on the blade suggesting that this is a weapon that could harm me (and the memory of my first attempt at the book confirming that it can inflict lethal damage on my spectral form).
I attempt to calm him, and he says I look like a 'brave knight' he knows to be dead. For some reason I am puzzled at his knowledge, even though I've already been informed that rumours of my death are already spreading through the castle. Still, the book doesn't go as far as giving me the option of assuming that he's in league with the Death Acolyte and leaping to the attack. Instead, I just explain that I'm my ghost and ask for help. The Captain is not convinced that I'm not a supernatural doppelganger, and insists that I prove my identity by naming my dog. The one who's probably gazing adoringly at me while wagging his tail right now.
Having been to the kennels, I do know the dog's name (not that I should have needed to encounter him before I could remember it - a Temple of Terror-style name-drop in the introductory passage would have been fairer, especially as it mentioned that I was looking forward to seeing my 'faithful hound' again), so I am able to convince the Captain that I am who I claim to be. Good thing the dog isn't wearing a collar with a name tag on, or the Captain might have suspected that I read it there, and demanded some really obscure bit of trivia as evidence.
I explain that I'm here to avenge my murder, and the Captain reveals that he and his guards are no longer allowed beyond the Outer Ward, as Chamberlain Unthank gave the responsibility of patrolling the inner regions of the castle to a mysterious order of knights around a year ago. The Captain then asks how he can help, and I tell him that I need information. As I'm beginning to wonder if leaving Unthank in charge of running the place while I was away may have been a bad idea, I decide to try and find out what else he's been up to in my absence.
Firstly the Chamberlain banned everyone but himself from going into the Keep. Rumour had it that he was spending most of his time searching the castle archives for something, and then it got out that he was building some kind of machine. Then the thirteen knights turned up on a stereotypically dark and stormy night, claiming to be seeking shelter, and Unthank invited them in, banished the established guards to the Outer Ward, and set his enigmatic new buddies to guard the Barbican. There's something locked in there that he doesn't want anyone else to touch. It feels as if events have been building towards something, and all indications point to the climax occurring tonight.
Cador goes on to admit that he believes there to be evil afoot, and he regrets not having been strong enough to take action back when it started to brew. He adds that Unthank is going ahead with the celebratory feast in spite of the death of the person whose return it should be celebrating (and the Outer Ward guards are not invited), and casually mentions a numerical combination that he managed to find out. Having finally run out of revelations, he wishes me well and dismisses me.
Is it worth checking out the stables? I decide to chance it. The horses don't react to my presence a lot better than the dogs did. One of them is saddled, and after a moment I realise that it's the one I was riding before I was ambushed. This gets me wondering what has become of my corpse, which seems a bit random - given that the miserable nag threw me and ran off before I got murdered, its presence here merely indicates that it knew the way home unaided. I suppose its riderless arrival might have prompted people to send out a search party, but the leap from 'That's my horse!' to 'Where's my body?' is still not that obvious.
On a more serious note, an equine phantom materialises in the stable, and it's even more agitated than the live horses. This spectral stallion is blocking my exit, so in order to move on, I must either fight it or try to calm it. Despite the risk that it might inspire a really inadvisable crossover, I try my skill as a ghost horse whisperer. Exerting my Will, I successfully pacify the skittish spook. There's nothing else I can do here right now, but knowing the whereabouts of a steed I could ride in my incorporeal state may be useful at a later juncture.
I think I've achieved as much as is worth achieving in the Outer Ward, so it's time to proceed to the Inner, which means traversing the Barbican and probably encountering Unthank's ominous knights. That will have to wait for another blog entry, though, as I will be travelling away to spend Christmas with the family in less than 12 hours, and don't know how much access I'll have to the internet while I'm gone, so it makes sense to conclude this instalment of the playthrough here and post it now.
I know you don't go a bundle on it, but I really like the atmosphere in this book. I can understand the thought process: it's my horse > when it threw me I was corporeal > where's my corpse now? However, one thing I don't like is the way the hound's name is dealt with. I think it would be better if the text had said "if you have a companion, convert it's name to numbers..." and then Cador could recognise the dog and believe your story. The way it actually is done feels contrived (and it fails to penalise you for murdering your pet if you take a different route).
ReplyDeleteAgreed, that would have been a much better way of handling the dog thing
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