I've just learned of the death of Carl Sargent, the third most prolific writer of Fighting Fantasy gamebooks, who contributed seven titles to the range under the nom de plume Keith Martin (and one as Ian Livingstone, inadvertently helping bring about the creation of one of my favourite memes some years later).
While not one of the most influential figures in the gamebook world, Mr. Sargent did contribute a variety of memorable settings, monsters and characters to FF, as well as some challenging puzzles and an assortment of inventively gruesome encounters and unsuccessful endings.
On a more personal level, he wrote one of my top 10 books in the series, and a couple of the batch that got me back into gamebooks in 2001, while another of his books helped inspire an incident in the mini-adventure I had published in Fighting Fantazine.
My condolences to his friends and family.
Monday, 12 November 2018
Sunday, 11 November 2018
Caught in the Struggle
Hard to believe that it's four years since I played Through the Wire, one of Simon Farrell and Jon Sutherland's Real Life Gamebooks, as a sort of tribute to those who gave their lives in the First World War. Back then I mentioned that I'd like to play the book again at some point, as it was an enjoyable read, and I gained the impression that there's more than one way to win. The centenary of the end of the war seems an appropriate occasion to have a second go.
As I'm hoping for a significantly different adventure second time round, I'm not going to be able to learn all that much from my first experience of the book, so character creation will involve some guesswork as to which skills to prioritise. Still, I think it unlikely that there's any way of avoiding the Luck roll which determines whether or not I survive the loss of my plane, so I'd better make sure I have a decent score for that. Persuasion and Language are also likely to be important on the path I'm contemplating. I won't bother with such a high Piloting score, as I'm not sure it actually played much of a part even in the aerial battle sequence at the start of the adventure, and if I'm careful and lucky, I should be able to avoid combat later on, so I think I can risk a low Firearm score.
So, here's what Flight Officer Alistair Thompson looks like in this version of reality.
Pilot: 5
Agility: 7
Luck: 9
Persuasion: 9
Firearm: 4
Language: 9
Driving: 7
Not the most plausible combination for a real RAF fighter pilot, but I'm hoping that that'll give me a decent chance of succeeding again.
Things commence with my squadron flying to intercept over a hundred enemy planes. I target the bombers, and it turns out that there is a Piloting roll here after all. I fail it (and would have needed a double-figure Piloting skill to succeed), and my plane takes damage. Bailing out in the midst of a firefight strikes me as unwise, so I'll hope that my Spitfire is still flightworthy. Yes, the plane still handles satisfactorily, and the Germans are breaking off their attack. I decide to try and encourage them on their way, and when a fresh flight of Messerschmidts joins the fray, one of them targets me. Another failed Piloting roll, and this time my plane has definitely had it, and I need to make a speedy exit.
Putting a couple of extra points into Luck turned out to be the right decision, as I narrowly make the roll, and parachute to, if not safety, at least not-deadness. I inflate my raft and get picked up by a German ship, and as taking suicidal risks is unlikely to make for a good adventure, things are likely to follow the same pattern as on my first go at the book until I get as far as the POW camp.
That's fractionally less true than I thought, as I forgot what I did before when falsely accused of firing on a pilot who'd bailed out, and fell back on name, rank and serial number. Still, the threat of being handed over to the Gestapo for interrogation promptly railroaded me back into giving an honest account of what transpired in the sky. Jon Sutherland strikes again. And being reminded of his tendency to not so subtly push the reader in his preferred direction at times causes me to raise an eyebrow at the line, 'You curse yourself for the mistake which has brought you here.' As far as I can tell, the only thing I could have done differently that would not have led me to this section would have been to crash and burn, or to leave the book on the shelf, which leads to the conclusion that my 'mistake' must consist of either being alive or reading Through the Wire. Not the most positive message to give the readers, whichever it may be.
As before, I don't join in with the doomed escape bid made by some of the other downed airmen with whom I am transported to Stalag Luft 14 (and again I am confronted with the puzzle of how the death of three out of eight POWs can leave six survivors). Once I've been issued with the essentials for life in the prison camp (blankets, washing equipment, fork, mess-tin and tobacco) and allocated a bunk in one of the huts, I take a brief look around before getting some rest.
The following morning I am introduced to what little routine there is in the camp, and over breakfast I learn more about the security. When asked by a fellow prisoner if I intend to escape, I evade the question by asking if there have been many successful escapes. Only about half a dozen, it seems, though the French prisoners are apparently attempting it all the time. Another false choice follows: I either ask about an Escape Committee or decide to try it alone, but asking gets me nowhere and sends me to the same section as opting to attempt a break-out single-handed.
Making as detailed a study of the perimeter as is permitted, I notice what could be a blind spot in the surveillance set-up. I could try sneaking out after dark to test my theory, but is it really likely that on my first day I could spot a weakness that prisoners and guards alike have consistently missed? In all probability I'm the one failing to spot something, and any investigation will only get me slung into the cooler and given closer scrutiny by the guards.
My wanderings bring me to a building outside which several French prisoners are loitering in a suspicious manner. I wander across to test my Language skills. One of the group tells me they're keeping an eye on the Goons and introduces himself as Eugene, the chief Goon-baiter, so I tell him that I'm currently chief Nothing, which amuses him. Catching sight of an Abwehr man approaching, I discreetly warn Eugene, who almost as discreetly signals to whoever is inside the hut. The activity taking place within is hurriedly concealed, and Eugene offers to introduce me to the Escape Committee in return for my assistance.
The Committee explain about the three basic means of escaping: Under (the ground by tunnel), Over (the wire) or Through (the main gate by trickery). My high Persuasion, Language and Luck make Through the most promising-looking approach, so I meet with John, the man in charge of organising distractions and bluffs. He's currently got one scheme brewing for an escape in the weekly rubbish van, and another that involves a fake uniform. I think I'll try disguising myself.
My first job is to obtain the badge from a guard's cap for John's team to copy. I arrange for a group of us to have an exercise session, in the course of which I need to 'accidentally' collide with a guard and knock his cap off. This requires an Agility roll, which I narrowly fail, hitting the guard in the face and earning myself a week's solitary confinement. My blunder doesn't seem to have wrecked the plan, though, and after I regain my liberty, I find that an attempt at sending two fake guards out is imminent. A successful Persuasion roll enables me to get selected as one of them, and I am fitted with a convincing-looking disguise by the group's tailor and forger.
A Dutch prisoner is to be my companion, and as my Language skill is better than his, I take the initiative at the gate. The guards on the gate are taken in by our fake uniforms and passes, and we get out without incident. Concealing the uniforms in a nearby forest, my fellow escapee and I split up, and I start heading for the Swiss border.
This takes me deeper into the forest, and after a while I find a clearing that contains a wooden cabin. Investigating seems unwise: the occupant must be aware of how close the POW camp is, so any stranger is liable to be regarded with suspicion. Passing by, I continue until a main road crosses my path. I'm more likely to be spotted on the road than off it, so I cross over and move away from the road.
It's starting to get light, and I can see a farm up ahead, so while the farmer is busy milking his cows, I sneak into a hayloft and hide there until the day is over, snatching what sleep I can. By now a search will be under way for the Dutchman and me, and farmland isn't going to provide much in the way of cover, so it might be better to return to the road, on which I can probably make quicker progress.
As I approach the road, thankful for the concealment provided by the trees, I see a lot of military traffic heading west. Noting that the trucks carry no personnel other than their drivers, I speculate that they may be heading for a depot, and risk jumping into one as it passes, concealing myself behind the ammunition boxes it carries.
The truck eventually stops, and the driver wanders off without checking his cargo. Emerging with caution, I find that I am in the goods yard of Ludwigshafen railway station. From here I could stow away on trains bound for France or Switzerland, and while France is closer, I went that way when I played the book before, so I need to go for the longer journey if I want to explore different possible outcomes.
I break into a boxcar on a Swiss-bound train, and doze off once the train is on its way. When I wake, the train is motionless, and I can hear Germans searching it. Time I was elsewhere. Alas, I am spotted leaving the train, and I don't think there's any point in trying to run for it, so surrender is the only option. Well, if nothing else, I've cost the enemy some time and manpower searching for me.
Transported back to the camp, I am informed that the decision has been made to relocate me to a new prison camp designed to hold disruptive types like me: Oflag IV C, better known as Colditz. And as that is outside the scope of the book, my adventure ends here.
Not the kind of outcome I'd hoped for, but a reminder that many of those who were captured during the war did not manage to get away. And then there were all those who didn't even survive, and whose deaths, many of them futile and unnecessary, are remembered today. As gamebook failures go, this has to be my most appropriate one.
As I'm hoping for a significantly different adventure second time round, I'm not going to be able to learn all that much from my first experience of the book, so character creation will involve some guesswork as to which skills to prioritise. Still, I think it unlikely that there's any way of avoiding the Luck roll which determines whether or not I survive the loss of my plane, so I'd better make sure I have a decent score for that. Persuasion and Language are also likely to be important on the path I'm contemplating. I won't bother with such a high Piloting score, as I'm not sure it actually played much of a part even in the aerial battle sequence at the start of the adventure, and if I'm careful and lucky, I should be able to avoid combat later on, so I think I can risk a low Firearm score.
So, here's what Flight Officer Alistair Thompson looks like in this version of reality.
Pilot: 5
Agility: 7
Luck: 9
Persuasion: 9
Firearm: 4
Language: 9
Driving: 7
Not the most plausible combination for a real RAF fighter pilot, but I'm hoping that that'll give me a decent chance of succeeding again.
Things commence with my squadron flying to intercept over a hundred enemy planes. I target the bombers, and it turns out that there is a Piloting roll here after all. I fail it (and would have needed a double-figure Piloting skill to succeed), and my plane takes damage. Bailing out in the midst of a firefight strikes me as unwise, so I'll hope that my Spitfire is still flightworthy. Yes, the plane still handles satisfactorily, and the Germans are breaking off their attack. I decide to try and encourage them on their way, and when a fresh flight of Messerschmidts joins the fray, one of them targets me. Another failed Piloting roll, and this time my plane has definitely had it, and I need to make a speedy exit.
Putting a couple of extra points into Luck turned out to be the right decision, as I narrowly make the roll, and parachute to, if not safety, at least not-deadness. I inflate my raft and get picked up by a German ship, and as taking suicidal risks is unlikely to make for a good adventure, things are likely to follow the same pattern as on my first go at the book until I get as far as the POW camp.
That's fractionally less true than I thought, as I forgot what I did before when falsely accused of firing on a pilot who'd bailed out, and fell back on name, rank and serial number. Still, the threat of being handed over to the Gestapo for interrogation promptly railroaded me back into giving an honest account of what transpired in the sky. Jon Sutherland strikes again. And being reminded of his tendency to not so subtly push the reader in his preferred direction at times causes me to raise an eyebrow at the line, 'You curse yourself for the mistake which has brought you here.' As far as I can tell, the only thing I could have done differently that would not have led me to this section would have been to crash and burn, or to leave the book on the shelf, which leads to the conclusion that my 'mistake' must consist of either being alive or reading Through the Wire. Not the most positive message to give the readers, whichever it may be.
As before, I don't join in with the doomed escape bid made by some of the other downed airmen with whom I am transported to Stalag Luft 14 (and again I am confronted with the puzzle of how the death of three out of eight POWs can leave six survivors). Once I've been issued with the essentials for life in the prison camp (blankets, washing equipment, fork, mess-tin and tobacco) and allocated a bunk in one of the huts, I take a brief look around before getting some rest.
The following morning I am introduced to what little routine there is in the camp, and over breakfast I learn more about the security. When asked by a fellow prisoner if I intend to escape, I evade the question by asking if there have been many successful escapes. Only about half a dozen, it seems, though the French prisoners are apparently attempting it all the time. Another false choice follows: I either ask about an Escape Committee or decide to try it alone, but asking gets me nowhere and sends me to the same section as opting to attempt a break-out single-handed.
Making as detailed a study of the perimeter as is permitted, I notice what could be a blind spot in the surveillance set-up. I could try sneaking out after dark to test my theory, but is it really likely that on my first day I could spot a weakness that prisoners and guards alike have consistently missed? In all probability I'm the one failing to spot something, and any investigation will only get me slung into the cooler and given closer scrutiny by the guards.
My wanderings bring me to a building outside which several French prisoners are loitering in a suspicious manner. I wander across to test my Language skills. One of the group tells me they're keeping an eye on the Goons and introduces himself as Eugene, the chief Goon-baiter, so I tell him that I'm currently chief Nothing, which amuses him. Catching sight of an Abwehr man approaching, I discreetly warn Eugene, who almost as discreetly signals to whoever is inside the hut. The activity taking place within is hurriedly concealed, and Eugene offers to introduce me to the Escape Committee in return for my assistance.
The Committee explain about the three basic means of escaping: Under (the ground by tunnel), Over (the wire) or Through (the main gate by trickery). My high Persuasion, Language and Luck make Through the most promising-looking approach, so I meet with John, the man in charge of organising distractions and bluffs. He's currently got one scheme brewing for an escape in the weekly rubbish van, and another that involves a fake uniform. I think I'll try disguising myself.
My first job is to obtain the badge from a guard's cap for John's team to copy. I arrange for a group of us to have an exercise session, in the course of which I need to 'accidentally' collide with a guard and knock his cap off. This requires an Agility roll, which I narrowly fail, hitting the guard in the face and earning myself a week's solitary confinement. My blunder doesn't seem to have wrecked the plan, though, and after I regain my liberty, I find that an attempt at sending two fake guards out is imminent. A successful Persuasion roll enables me to get selected as one of them, and I am fitted with a convincing-looking disguise by the group's tailor and forger.
A Dutch prisoner is to be my companion, and as my Language skill is better than his, I take the initiative at the gate. The guards on the gate are taken in by our fake uniforms and passes, and we get out without incident. Concealing the uniforms in a nearby forest, my fellow escapee and I split up, and I start heading for the Swiss border.
This takes me deeper into the forest, and after a while I find a clearing that contains a wooden cabin. Investigating seems unwise: the occupant must be aware of how close the POW camp is, so any stranger is liable to be regarded with suspicion. Passing by, I continue until a main road crosses my path. I'm more likely to be spotted on the road than off it, so I cross over and move away from the road.
It's starting to get light, and I can see a farm up ahead, so while the farmer is busy milking his cows, I sneak into a hayloft and hide there until the day is over, snatching what sleep I can. By now a search will be under way for the Dutchman and me, and farmland isn't going to provide much in the way of cover, so it might be better to return to the road, on which I can probably make quicker progress.
As I approach the road, thankful for the concealment provided by the trees, I see a lot of military traffic heading west. Noting that the trucks carry no personnel other than their drivers, I speculate that they may be heading for a depot, and risk jumping into one as it passes, concealing myself behind the ammunition boxes it carries.
The truck eventually stops, and the driver wanders off without checking his cargo. Emerging with caution, I find that I am in the goods yard of Ludwigshafen railway station. From here I could stow away on trains bound for France or Switzerland, and while France is closer, I went that way when I played the book before, so I need to go for the longer journey if I want to explore different possible outcomes.
I break into a boxcar on a Swiss-bound train, and doze off once the train is on its way. When I wake, the train is motionless, and I can hear Germans searching it. Time I was elsewhere. Alas, I am spotted leaving the train, and I don't think there's any point in trying to run for it, so surrender is the only option. Well, if nothing else, I've cost the enemy some time and manpower searching for me.
Transported back to the camp, I am informed that the decision has been made to relocate me to a new prison camp designed to hold disruptive types like me: Oflag IV C, better known as Colditz. And as that is outside the scope of the book, my adventure ends here.
Not the kind of outcome I'd hoped for, but a reminder that many of those who were captured during the war did not manage to get away. And then there were all those who didn't even survive, and whose deaths, many of them futile and unnecessary, are remembered today. As gamebook failures go, this has to be my most appropriate one.
Friday, 9 November 2018
A Hole Where the Moonlight Fell
For the most part I got on better with the mini-adventure in issue 2 of Fighting Fantazine, Andrew Wright's Shrine of the Salamander, than with the preceding one. I still poked fun at aspects of it in my original playthrough (and as that was deleted a good five years ago, I have no qualms about reusing the gags I still remember as appropriate here), but without malicious intent. The only element of the adventure I really disliked was the sequence of events culminating in the death of my character, and as I expect to encounter at least the start of that sequence again this time round, I shall save the details and the nature of my complaint until I get there.
My character is a priest, and consequently gets a lower Skill score than the average FF hero, so I will be allocating dice at character creation. The Skill I rolled up on my first attempt was so poor that I doubted my ability to survive a fight with a couple of Goblins, and resorted to pelting my unimposing opponents with sorcerously-generated explosives until they ceased to be a threat. Which was, admittedly, quite fun, but made it clear that I'd be in trouble if I ran into practically any other kind of monster.
Anyway, I'm supposed to be a veteran adventuring priest, so it makes sense that, rather than a Skill 5 bungler, I should be something like this:
Skill 10
Stamina 15
Luck 11
I'd actually have had a fairly respectable Skill even if I'd taken the dice as they fell, but I'd have been stuck with a mediocre Luck, so allocating was still probably the wise choice.
I have been called in to deal with the theft of the Idol of Verlang from the temple which housed it. All the evidence points to the Horntoads from the Croaking Caves in Daddu-Yaddu, just across the river - so much so, in fact, that I suggest that someone might be trying to frame them. High priest Gulanti has no doubt as to their guilt, though, reminding me of the increase in acts of piracy by the Horntoads since (rumour has it) a Salamander installed himself as their ruler. That's the kind of Salamander that comes from the Elemental Plane of Fire, rather than the real-life amphibian variety, in case you weren't clear on that.
Gulanti explains that, according to legend, the First-spawned of the Salamanders were made to assist in the creation of the Idol. His suggestion of the motive behind the theft is intriguing: there's quite a difference between 'believing the Idol to rightfully be the property of the Salamanders' and 'rightfully believing the Idol to be the property of the Salamanders', and the turn of phrase used either indicates Gulanti to have made a hash of his grammar or hints that the forge-priests of Verlang are the ones in the wrong, and the Salamanders have a legitimate claim. Still, this is a Fighting Fantazine mini-adventure, not one of those 'can you spot the six slips of the tongue that led the criminal to give himself away?' puzzles that used to be popular, so I shall have to risk life and limb to try and recover the Idol.
As a forge-priest myself, I have some magical ability, which turns out to be a stripped-down version of the Sorcery! spell book. It has the advantage of familiarity, but the lack of any new spells (especially ones of obvious use to smelters and metal-workers) is a bit of a missed opportunity. Think of the fun that could have been had if the 'fake' spell BAM (mentioned to mislead readers of The Shamutanti Hills) had turned out to be an incantation that would drop an anvil on the designated spot. Looking on the bright side, I'm a little better prepared than any wizard character at the start of the Sorcery! saga, as I get to start with one of the items required for casting certain spells. I go for the cloth skullcap that can help me read minds.
I am taken across the river in the Schoolfish, a coracle ferry (which comes as a surprise, as I didn't think coracles were big enough for a crew and passenger(s), but a quick check reveals that some varieties can get quite crowded). On the way, Captain Unanza tells me a bit about Daddu-Yaddu: in addition to the Croaking Caves, this region contains the Orc-controlled Crystal Mines, the potentially helpful Under-Temple of Throff and the hazardous Tunnels of Ooze.
No sooner have I been deposited on the shore than the boat departs again, as loitering here is apparently unsafe. As the Schoolfish pulls away, the Captain yells to me that if - sorry, when - I complete my mission, I should light a beacon atop the cliff. She also shouts a warning, but the wind keeps me from hearing more than, "Watch out for the grem-", and there's actually quite a variety of ways that last word could end, as I shall indicate with hyperlinked asterisks whenever there's potential of encountering something that starts with 'grem-'.
I perform a quick search of the beach, and am relieved to find it free of novice surfers*. Even better, I find some more spell components, all of which I add to my inventory: sand, stone dust, and three pebbles. Thus equipped, I find a path ascending the cliff, and climb up to the mine entrance. The Captain had mentioned that they're guarded by Dark Goblins, and I see a couple on duty. The prefix suggests that they might be different from your average Goblin, but even if it gives them an extra Skill point or two, they shouldn't be too hard to fight. Still, if they sound an alarm I could be in trouble, so I decide to try reading their minds to see if I can find a means of bluffing my way past them.
No passwords on their minds, alas, but I do learn the safe route through the mines. Also that they are bored, hungry, and afraid of the big Orc who is their boss. Well, I can make things more interesting for them, after which I doubt that they'll have much need for food, and they should have learned (however briefly) that there are scarier things than Orcs in the vicinity.
Looking at the other spell options provided, I see that if I'd chosen a Galehorn rather than the skullcap, I might be able to blow the guards off the cliff, but that safe path is probably worth more to me than being able to avoid combat. Oh, definitely: their being 'Dark' Goblins makes them no tougher or more competent than the ordinary variety, and even though they attack simultaneously (using a new variant on the 'fighting more than one opponent at the same time' rules) I have no trouble killing both.
Beyond the mine entrance are three tunnels, helpfully labelled. I shall leave 'Mines' until last. 'Boss' shouldn't be much of a problem, unless he's able to raise an alarm. In case that is so, I shall check out 'Gear' first, in the hope of finding some useful equipment. To my surprise, this leads not to a storeroom but to a cave which has been turned into a shop by an enterprising Svinn, who may have got his job through nominative determinism, as his name is Hagla. Now, Svinns are not necessarily evil, and the robe Hagla wears suggests to me that he might be a sorcerer himself, so I have a couple of valid reasons for checking out his wares rather than attacking.
He expresses his pleasure at having a customer in stronger language than is usual for FF, and apparently recognises me as a magic-user, as he draws my attention to the spell components he acquired from an Analander (in a manner that proves this Svinn, at least, to be a bit of a bad lot). If I'd gone to other places first, I might have some of the things he's prepared to buy. As it is, I can only spend some of what little cash I have on me, so I content myself with buying a rope and a knife. I could get an extra portion of Provisions or two, but I might need money elsewhere. Besides, a little wariness could be called for: who knows what sort of accompaniment* Svinns might have with their food?
Returning to the mine entrance, I now decide to investigate the Orc who so intimidated those Goblin guards. He lives in surprisingly opulent surroundings, with fur rugs on the floor and an assortment of hunting trophies mounted on the walls. Suspecting that I have come to steal his diamonds, he threatens me. I could cast a spell here, but a smack in the head with my warhammer should do the trick.
He's actually a Great Orc (and that 'Great' does come with enhanced stats), and arms himself with a scimitar and a whip, the latter potentially introducing complications. Indeed, a couple of rounds into the fight, he manages to entangle me in the whip, and the resultant Skill penalty indirectly leads to my taking a little damage. Not enough to keep me from killing him, though. A quick search of his chamber turns up some more money, a little food, some lumps of coal (Could these be his 'diamonds'? After all, both substances are composed of carbon...) and a stoppered jar made of crystal, which I could have sold to Hagla if I'd come this way first, but there's no going back, alas.
Well, not unless I want to leave this place altogether, and it's a bit soon for that. I proceed to the actual mines, and somehow the very act of my entering them triggers an alarm, causing a portcullis to drop down behind me. I could use magic to deal with the portcullis, but I'd rather make use of the secret I learned from the Goblins, so I head deeper into the mines.
Rapidly reaching a crossroads, I hear the sound of Goblins coming to investigate the alarm, and take the turning I know to be on the safe route. This leads to a rubble-strewn corner where I get more stone dust and pebbles. Further on I reach a junction at which a cave-in has killed some of the miners. One of the dead was a Giant (so either these are huge passages or he had a really miserable job even before the fatal accident), and as Giants' teeth have their uses in spellcasting, I take one of them before continuing on my way.
The 'safe route' turns out to be flawed, as it leads me to a chamber with pits and sinkholes in the floor, and while I manage to avoid falling into any of them, section number recognition tells me that continuing to follow the path indicated by what I learned from the Goblins would take me back where I've already been. I shall assume that this chamber is not where I should have gone and return to the previous junction to take the turning I previously spurned.
That might not be so clever, either, as it leads to a deserted part of the mines with rust-orange mould on the walls. Mould which appears a trifle more mobile than it has any right to be, and I don't loiter to see if it's just a trick of the light. If I keep going, I'll wind up north of sinkhole chamber (I'm not even trying to memorise these section numbers - they just stuck in my head when I typed them into the gamebook manager), so I'll chance that.
It takes me to a chamber where abandoned mining equipment is covered in sand. I take some more sand and go through the one exit that leads to somewhere I've not yet been. To a slightly odd place, in fact: one would expect the breeze to have erased the footprints in the dust. The turning from which the breeze issues could be an exit, but it's in entirely the wrong direction for the route in the Goblins' minds. Yes, I have already had to deviate from a literal reading of that route, but the path I've followed (minus the detour to the pitted cavern) could be considered a looser interpretation of it. So I'm treating the possible exit as a potential deathtrap and sticking with this take on the alleged safe path.
Doing so takes me to a cave strewn with boulders. Only they're not boulders, they're the well-camouflaged vermin known as Grannits, as I discover when one of them bites me. I smash a couple of them and continue on my way. And it's now looking as if that breezy tunnel was the way out after all, as continuing to follow the 'safe' path leads to a run-in with a venomous snake. I kill it, but its bite does more damage than the total I've taken over the course of the rest of the adventure. And to add insult to injury, not taking the turning that was contraindicated by that 'safe path' has led me in a great big circle. So unless the pursuing Goblins catch up with me at the exit (and only the exit), there's no actual way of running into them, and the whole implied chase is just a big con. My memories of this adventure would have been a good deal less favourable if I hadn't eliminated the portcullis and fled the mines straight off on my previous playthrough.
The quick way back to the exit would mean incurring another Grannit bite, so I go via the rubble corner, the dead Giant, the mould and the derelict mining equipment. The breezy passage leads to a chamber where a Rhino-Man watches over a group of slave miners... and three Dark Goblins stream in, intent on killing me. They are so getting a fistful of explosive pebbles thrown their way.
As it turns out, the best option once I've cast the spell is to pelt the Rhino-Man with the pebbles. Every one is on target, killing him before he can get near me, and the Dark Goblins are no match for me in combat. Once they're dead, I take the Rhino-Man's keys and free the slaves, so I've achieved something of merit today no matter how my primary mission goes.
As their liberator I get a hefty Luck bonus that would be useful if I'd used any Luck up until now (stop sniggering, Mr. Ballingall: having it go to waste is still nowhere near as annoying as being slapped with an arbitrary penalty), and the miners present me with some money, food and rope they'd managed to squirrel away while their oppressors were busy pretending to chase intruders or something. They then start making plans to free the slaves held in other parts of the mines, and I eat a meal to restore some of the Stamina I've lost in here before departing to resume my actual quest.
Back at the beach I find another three pebbles. Wonder how I missed them before. The money I've accumulated should be enough for the doubtless obligatory donation at the Under-Temple, so I decide to head there next, despite the possible risk posed by whatever arcane forces might be present in one or more of the cloths* it contains.
The Under-Temple is in a cave which has been fitted with a couple of massive doors. Annoyingly, one of the Sorcery! spells that the forge-priests neglected to acquire is the one that opens locks. I lack the items needed for casting two of the ones that I am given the option of casting right now, not that I'd be inclined to try either one if I did have the wherewithal: creating a strong breeze isn't likely to achieve much, and enhancing my strength to the point where I can smash the doors down is not likely to endear me to the priests. I may not want to find out what they're like when they get angry*...
That leaves mind-reading or knocking. The former will only be of use if there's someone behind the doors (or the doors themselves are sapient - there is precedent), and considering how useful the information I gained from reading the Goblins' minds wasn't, I'm not sure it'll be worth doing even if it does work. I just knock.
A bald priest with a beard and a crystal-topped staff opens the door just wide enough to tell me that the Under-Temple is closed and unbelievers are not allowed in. I hurriedly indicate my willingness to make a contribution towards the upkeep of the place, and he comes to the conclusion that letting me in would be an ecumenical matter rather than profanation.
Under-Priest Zhiamle (is he an Under-Priest because this is the Under-Temple, or does the title merely reflect his low rank?) welcomes me in once I've handed over an appropriate sum, and indicates that I can visit the Library of Throff or the Holy Pool. A bit of research strikes me as being potentially helpful, though it could also prove hazardous, depending on who published* the Library's contents.
On the way to the Library we pass a number of empty monastic cells, and Zhiamle explains that most of the priests are away helping with restoration work on another Temple, so only he and Kasmanti the Arch-Librarian remain here. Kasmanti has a longer beard than Zhiamle, and makes it clear from the outset that I'll have to pay for the information I seek. Money is not yet an issue, so I ask about Horntoads.
Kasmanti hands me an assortment of scrolls penned by an unspecified Grey Mage (which I believe to be an in-jokey reference to a member of FF fandom). The most noteworthy facts contained within concern the Horntoads' love of bees (as a snack) and the vicious nature of their tadpoles. As regards the directions for acting on the first of those details should I find a convenient source of bees, pedantry compels me to point out that you subtract 'from', not 'to'.
I still have plenty of money, so I also pay to look at the Library's singed copy of Incendiare the Pyromancer's definitive treatise on Salamanders. This mentions that Salamanders can be banished to the Elemental Plane where they originated by speaking their true names, and some irresponsible book-defacer has scrawled what they believe to be the name of the Salamander of the Croaking Caves at the bottom of the page. Useful if they're right, but this may be like one of those sneaky gamebooks where getting the item or datum required to defeat the villain isn't enough on its own, and some modification is necessary to make the game-winning McGuffin function properly.
Reading up on other local fauna risks derailing my running gag with facts, but I'll take that chance in case the information that can be gained is too useful to overlook. And it turns out that 'denizens' is being used to refer to noteworthy characters who have visited the region, most of whom can be encountered in one of the later Sorcery! books, though there is also a piece on a reclusive sage named Zared (possibly another FF fandom in-joke) who has taken up residence in the Tunnels of Ooze in order to research the people, lore and history of Daddu-Yaddu.
Having exhausted the relevant resources in the Library, I now proceed to check if the Holy Pool merits a visit. The pool itself is off-limits to the likes of me, but I can purchase a couple of Potions distilled from it, both of which could come in handy. Good thing I went to the Mines before I came to the Under-Temple (learning from past mistakes), as I'd have missed out on a lot of useful (or possibly vital) stuff if I'd come here with just my starting gold.
There's nothing else to do in the Under-Temple, so I return to the beach, where I discover another three pebbles. They join my inventory, though I am now starting to worry that there's some local resident with OCD who's getting increasingly fed up that every time they make sure there's just the right number of small stones on the shore, I come along and take the lot.
Back when Captain Unanza was telling me about the region, she advised me to stay away from the Tunnels of Ooze. Now I know they're the home of the person most likely to be able to tell me what is wrong with the Salamander's name I found in that book, I'm going to have to ignore the warning and explore the Tunnels as thoroughly as I can.
The Tunnels are damp, and probably submerged at high tide, as I find them occupied by a variety of marine creatures - crabs, starfish, mussels... Before long I reach a junction, and get to make a semi-informed choice about which way to go: the bone-strewn passage and the flooded one don't look that enticing anyway, but even if they didn't seem so unappealing, there's a humming noise coming from the other tunnel, and if that doesn't indicate the presence of some bees, I will be very surprised.
Yes, there's a beehive somewhat incongruously located in a crack in the ceiling, and I'm now glad that in the Mines I visited Hagla's stall before fighting the Great Orc, as that kept me from short-sightedly selling the stoppered jar that could be used for capturing some of the hive's occupants. Still, I have to climb up to the hive first, which requires a Skill roll. Having a rope gives me a bonus, but I roll well enough that I'd have succeeded anyway. Somehow I manage to dislodge the hive without getting stung, after which I descend and jam the jar into the opening in the hive. Annoyed bees fly into it, and I seal the jar and help myself to a meal's worth of honey before leaving the cave.
The exit leads to another fork in the tunnel. Again there are bones scattered in one passage, so it would appear that there's more than one way into the lair of whatever messy carnivore lives around here. Perhaps I should check it out after all, in case a messenger bearing some important message for Zared got waylaid.
For some reason, it is not until I reach a cavern littered with the bones of the dead that my character twigs that something unpleasant might be responsible for the deaths. Nevertheless, I draw my weapon in time to be ready for the attack of the killer, a large brute known as a Tarator. Unsure how I'd fare in a fight against it, I decide to make use of some of the sand I've harvested from the beach, transforming it into a pool of quicksand between the Tarator and me. The stupid creature blunders straight into it and rapidly sinks from sight, and my quick thinking earns me another superfluous Luck bonus. Searching the cavern, I find a few gold pieces and another Giant's tooth. On a less positive note, I also discover that my quicksand is blocking off one of the exits, and as there's no point in heading back to the beach just yet, I have to leave the way I came in. Still, the sage I seek isn't likely to have made his home in a cave that can only be accessed via a Tarator's lair, is he?
There's no point in going back to the cave with the wrecked beehive, either, so I head north when I get back to the fork. Shaking walls herald the arrival of a Baddu-Beetle, one of the more tiresome species found in the region, owing to its acid-spitting habits. Habits it manifests before I can take any action, but Luck is with me, and the caustic expectorate hits the wall. I don't have the option of using magic here, so I must either flee or try to crush the pest with my hammer, risking a retaliatory gobbet of corrosive sputum every time I hit the wretched thing.
It's probably not worth it, especially as there's a risk of getting my arm spat on and losing Skill as well as Stamina. I run. That also proves a risky course of action, as there's a sinkhole up ahead, and anyone running along the tunnel incurs a penalty to the Skill roll to avoid falling in. Not enough of a penalty that I do go over the edge, though.
As I'm catching my breath, things take a turn for the ludicrous. Down from above comes a malevolent jellyfish-like entity that I recognise to be a Skurasha. They're generally found working for Demon Princes, and even the text acknowledges that this one seems more than slightly out of place. If I fight it, I run a slight risk of falling into the sinkhole, but I'm not running away again if it can be avoided.
The 'fall in' outcome takes effect if I ever roll a double 1 while determining my Attack Strength. Over the course of the fight I get a statistically anomalous number of doubles (4 in 9 rounds), but never lower than a double 2, and in the end it's the Skurasha's body that goes down into the pit. I get a Luck bonus for defeating it (and this one I can use), and then get to choose between trying to climb up to the beach or squeezing through a crack in the wall. I've not found that sage yet, so it's too soon to leave.
Beyond the crack is the place where my previous attempt at this adventure ended. Three tunnels lead into this chamber, which has an intriguing-looking driftwood door on the far side. And a big patch of quicksand ideally positioned to catch out anyone who heads for that door (with no option of not making for it). As I recall, trying to use my rope to extricate myself leads to a Skill roll, which ought not to be too much of a problem on this occasion, but was a pretty hopeless prospect for my low-Skilled character last time. I do also have the option of using magic, but that's just Mr. Wright being mean. A choice of three spells is offered. One only works on living opponents, and is thus useless in this situation. The second doesn't work without the right item, which can only be acquired at character creation or if you have the money and foresight to get it at Hagla's, and I'm not sure what good it could do even if I were able to cast it. The third leads straight to Instant Death.
Still, my Skill should suffice to make the rope all I need - and it does. I lasso the door-handle and drag myself out. Beyond the door is the cavern described in what I read about Zared, but things are, of course, not that simple. The misanthropic so-and-so has only gone and created a Sand Golem to kill anyone who gets past his quicksand trap. I wonder if my quicksand-generating spell can be used to turn the Golem to goo.
No, I just create a patch of quicksand as normal, and the Golem absorbs it when wading through. Still, that's not as bad as it sounds, as this causes the Golem to become slower and more solid, reducing its Skill and negating its ability to reduce the damage it takes. A few smacks with the hammer turn it into a harmless assortment of splatters, so I can now try to track down the Sage and see what he can tell me about the Salamander.
I call for Zared, who emerges from behind a clump of giant mushrooms and thanks me for killing the Golem, which he claims to have created by accident. I'm prepared to believe him, as he's extremely hungry, and will info-dump for food. I hand over a meal and ask about the Salamander, and Zared slightly shamefacedly tells me that he summoned it to get help with identifying a mysterious trident that he'd excavated. Rather than do as requested, it stole the trident, which enabled it to break its mystical bonds and escape to the Croaking Caves to take up dominion over the Horntoads. Oh, and it turns out that the trident is possessed, so I'll have to destroy it after I deal with the Salamander. Not exactly the "No, the Salamander's name is actually Dey'volt," I was expecting, but good to know all the same.
Zared is still hungry, and is willing to trade items for more food. I hand over another meal in return for a spell component, and decide that it's time I was on my way. The only exit that doesn't lead through that quicksand patch is a hole in the cavern roof, but Zared shows me his secret rope ladder, thereby enabling me to avoid what could have been a tricky Skill roll.
Back to the beach, where I replenish my sand and create more work for the Secret Pebble-Placer of Daddu-Yaddu, and now it's time to move on from areas I vaguely remember from trying the adventure once over 5 years ago and enter the region I have never previously explored. Once I've consumed enough Provisions to bring me back up to full health, into the Croaking Caves I go.
The entrance is a foul-smelling, slimy cavern mouth. As I enter, a couple of Horntoad guards identify me as an intruder and charge to the attack. As they've already seen me, it may be a bit late to use the Potion of Transformation I got at the Holy Pool, and I think the bees should be saved for a larger group, so unless I want to try reading the minds of the guards who want to kill me, fighting would appear to be the only option.
Not the best decision I've ever made, as that's a pretty tough fight. But for the new variant of the 'fighting multiple opponents' rules, plus a few uses of Luck, I wouldn't have survived. As it is, I finish the fight with next to no Stamina left, and have to down the Potion of Healing I also bought from the Pool. One of the dead Horntoads is carrying enough cooked fish to constitute a portion of Provisions, which slightly improves my prospects, but it looks as if things are definitely getting tougher from now on.
Pressing on into the caves, I reach a junction, and take the turning east. This brings me to a pool of water, and as I stare into it, a scaly limb emerges. Could this be some kind of lizard*? Even if this is what I was warned of, curiosity outweighs caution, so I wait as a peculiar piscine anthropomorph in impractical swashbuckling dress drags itself out of the water and advances on me, rapier in hand.
A spot of mind-reading reveals this creature to have thought patterns too alien for me to be able to understand much. Still, I can ascertain that it's not evil, though it is somewhat arrogant and impetuous. Bearing these character flaws in mind, I try talking to the fishy fellow. He announces himself to be Merkurio the Swordfish, an emissary from Atlantis, who's getting fed up with waiting for an audience with the Salamander. No mention of the Salamander's name, though, and this could have been a nicely sneaky way to reveal it if the one I read in the Under-Temple library is wrong.
Merkurio declares himself to be 'the second greatest blade-master of all the oceans'. A minor grammatical error can make things a little confusing here: the omission of an inverted comma momentarily makes it look as if his subsequent claim is a statement of in-story fact by the author rather than an erroneous assumption on Merkurio's part. This would appear to be the 'deliberate plagiarism' from US Steve Jackson that Mr. Wright mentions in a footnote at the start of the adventure, as Merkurio can provide tuition in swordplay, much like Cyrano the Swordfish in Demons of the Deep (an encounter I didn't last long enough to reach when playing Demons here, though I did in my rather cursory write-up of an earlier playthrough at the FF forum).
So long as there's no sneaky twist on the Jackson encounter here, this should be an opportunity to improve my Skill, and that Horntoad guard fight has made it clear that an extra point or two would not go amiss, so I shall take advantage of Merkurio's mistake and pay for the training he offers. Besides, given what I learned from my mind-reading, I suspect that telling him he is mistaken will offend him, which could lead to a fight to the death against a potentially superior opponent.
Like Cyrano, Merkurio teaches by sparring with his pupils, and precedes the training bout by offering a drink of a restorative which guarantees that nobody will die in the fight (at least, not without unnecessary and irresponsible use of Luck). If I'd known this was coming up, I'd have saved my Potion of Healing (though I'd have had to consume Provisions in order to survive the Stamina cost of that mind-reading spell).
While Merkurio and I are evenly matched, Skill-wise, I prevail in the fight, which may be to my disadvantage: the Skill gain in Demons was higher for players who lost to Cyrano. And Merkurio may not take kindly to being beaten by a pupil... No, for all his arrogance, he's not a bad loser. Proclaiming himself 'a teacher of masters', Merkurio returns to his pool, and I get a Skill bonus I can use.
Returning to the junction, I go the other way, which leads to a large chamber containing a pool of muck in which hordes of Horntoads cavort and play. Now would probably be a good time to use that Potion of Transformation: fighting this many is sure to be suicidal, offering bees might get me fatally stampeded, creating quicksand strikes me as unlikely to help much against amphibians (unless Mr. Wright took inspiration from the infamous drowning fish-being who appeared in Doctor Who around a year and a half before Shrine was published), mind-reading seems unlikely to help much in this situation, and I still lack the component necessary for casting the other spell usable here. Yes, the Potion disguises me well enough that I can cross the cavern without incident, and I get a welcome Luck bonus for avoiding trouble.
As the effects of the Potion wear off, I reach a junction, with crude carvings at the different tunnel mouths providing the only hint of what may lie ahead. The flame symbol suggests the Salamander, so I'll avoid that for now in case something of use in the endgame can be found in any or all of the other passages. A circle within a circle might be a crude likeness of Horntoad-spawn, suggesting a potential run-in with the vicious tadpoles of which I read. Wavy lines must be something to do with water. No idea what the half-full semi-circle could indicate, though, so I shall investigate that way first.
As I move along the passage, an unpleasant smell hints at what awaits me: the local latrine. The stench alone costs me Stamina. If I could read what passes for writing among the Horntoads, it might be worth checking the place out for scurrilous graffiti that reveals the actual true name of the Salamander (even a barely literate species such as Horntoads will have some tearaways who enjoy decorating the walls with obscenities, libellous allegations and purported humour, right?), but since I can't, there's no point. Besides, back at the Holy Pool I was told that the Potion of Healing cured illness in addition to restoring Stamina. I doubt that that would have been mentioned if there were no possibility of contracting a nasty ailment somewhere in the adventure, and an insanitary locale like this seems a prime location for coming down with grot disease (as if anybody's going to get that in-joke) or the like, so I return to the junction at speed.
What about the water, then? None too surprisingly, that passage leads to the bank of a stream. Across the water I see a beach and a tunnel leading north, but before I can consider the options for getting across, I am unexpectedly ambushed and choked into unconsciousness.
I come round in a different cave, my hands tied and my belongings piled up close by. Also in the cave is a fire, and a roasting spit that looks as if it could bear the weight of a human. This is not promising. Nor is the fact that something large is advancing along the tunnel that leads into the cave. Can I grab the knife I bought from Hagla and cut my bonds before the chef arrives? To do so requires a Skill roll with a penalty, but I succeed, and am able to grab my warhammer in time to defend myself from the approaching would-be cook.
It's a Gremoll. One of the fan-created monsters that first appeared in Warlock magazine (as did the Skurasha, now I come to think of it, though not in the same issue). And while he might have been a serious threat if I'd been unable to free myself, Jamie Gremolliver isn't much to worry about for an armed and unbound adventurer of my capabilities.
Retrieving the rest of my belongings, I head down the tunnel, which leads to the beach I'd been wondering how to reach before I got added to the menu. Noises from the river remind me that Gremoll tend to live in small groups, so I hurry away via the passage to the north without even stopping to grab some sand or look for pebbles. This leads to another junction, and the markings on the tunnels here suggest that I was wrong about that flame symbol. The carving that looks like a frog with a crown is much more likely to indicate the way to the Salamander. The squirming lizard glyph is less straightforward, but the vertical bars could denote a dungeon, so for starters I shall see if there's any more liberating to be done.
Yes, that passage leads to some cells. There appears to be nobody on guard, but if the racket kicked up by the lone prisoner as soon as she catches sight of me is anything to go by, the gaoler may have snuck off for a bit of peace and quiet. The prisoner is a Black Elf in spiked armour, who demands that I let her out. Morality-wise, Black Elves are one of the less straightforward peoples on Titan. They're not inherently bad, but the only ones I can remember from earlier FF books were all in the employ of villains: one working in Balthus Dire's wine cellar, and a couple of guards in Mampang Fortress (not that I lived long enough to encounter them when playing that book here).
I don't have the option of asking how this Black Elf came to wind up in the cell, only of abandoning her to her fate (with no Luck penalty for heartlessness, judging by the section number) or using a spell to try and free her. It's not good to judge individuals based on the actions of others who share some genetic or chromosomal similarity, so I'll try to free her. I have plenty of pebbles, but I'm not sure I can be sure of only blowing the ****** door off, so I'll try using a Giant's tooth instead. This creates a Giant, who rips the door off the cell before vanishing.
The Black Elf emerges from the cell, thanks me, and then menaces me with her scimitar, demanding some proof of my trustworthiness. Charming! And where were your concerns about my morality back when you were yelling at me to break you out of prison, eh, young lady? Luckily, I am able to convince her that I mean her no harm, and she introduces herself as Verrema, athief bold adventurer who was captured by the Horntoads. She offers to help me, and while I can see a potential issue with the rules for fighting alongside her, I will only go into detail if the problem arises.
Returning to the junction, I decide to investigate the passage with the sign of the squirming lizard. The temperature rises as we proceed along it, eventually reaching a cavern. Before we can enter it, a young Salamander emerges and attacks. Verrema is not impressed at my lack of stealth, but assists me in combat anyway. And straight off, I get the absurd situation implicit in the rules for being assisted by her in battle. I get an Attack Strength of 21, the young Salamander gets 18, and Verrema only manages 13. Which, the rules suggest, means that despite beating the Salamander, I have a 50% chance of being injured by it. As it transpires, Verrema is the one who gets wounded anyway, and for the rest of the fight we both beat the Salamander every Round. Still, with slightly less favourable rolls, I could theoretically have got the highest Attack Strength every round and still been killed by the Salamander. Which is daft. I hope I don't end up regretting having acquired this sidekick.
Proceeding into the cavern, we see numerous glowing egg sacs. Verrema identifies the place as a hatchery, and muses on whether or not it's worth inflicting a bit of carnage here: there won't be any treasure, but it would reduce the risk of being bothered by more young Salamanders. While she's thinking out loud, half a dozen hatchlings surround us, taking the choice out of our hands. Against multiple opponents we can take it in turns to fight, so I go with that option for simplicity's sake. Verrema is injured once by the second Salamander Eft she fights, but apart from that it's a pretty one-sided massacre. The eggs that have yet to hatch don't put up a fight at all. As long as we can deal with the parent, the people of Daddu-Yaddu won't have to worry about Salamanders any more. Unless Zared gets any more not-so-smart ideas...
We head back to the junction and take the final passage. Unsurprisingly, it leads to the shrine of the Horntoads' god, which is decorated with skulls and monstrous carvings. It also contains the stolen idol. Before I can recover it, the Salamander enters and (with slightly sloppy grammar) tells me of his plans to take the idol back to his home, where he thinks it belongs. Verrema is not pleased to see him, and when he announces that he plans to eat her, she threatens to force-feed him his own tail. Not impressed with the quality of their banter, I try using the name I read in the library, which turns out to be the right one after all. The Salamander is dragged through a portal back to his plane of origin, without any opportunity to grab the idol and take it with him, and the trident clatters to the floor.
Remembering what Zared told me, I prepare to defend myself, and when the trident goes for me, I am able to parry its initial attack. It is unclear whether or not Verrema participates in the subsequent fight, but I'm probably better off without her assistance. A couple of blows with my hammer break the enchantment (and probably also the trident), and that's mission accomplished. Except for the bit where I have to get back past the hordes of Horntoads, who may not be massively happy with me for having killed their ruler...
Or so it would be if I'd left Verrema in the cell. But while I've been fighting the trident, she's found a secret door, behind which a staircase leads all the way up to the top of the cliff. The snarky manner in which she informs me of her discovery is somewhat undercut by another authorial lapse in grammar, which has her briefly lapsing into a speech pattern that reminds me of the Gungans from the first Star Wars prequel.
We climb the stairs and light the beacon, and the text has the adventure end there, as we await the return of Captain Unanza and her coracle. But I think the person responsible for all this trouble still has some consequences to face, so I find the hole by which I exited Zared's cave, and drop all my unused pebbles into it. Then I climb down to the beach and write a message in the sand, explaining where the missing pebbles may be found. A little petty, perhaps, but whatever trouble may ensue is likely to be less unpleasant for the sage than what is likely to happen if Verrema ever finds out that he's the one who summoned the Salamander in the first place...
That was entertaining. It has a few issues (notably the 'safe route' through the mines that has to be ignored if you want to ever get out), but it's a definite improvement on the previous mini-adventure. The accompanying illustrations, by Brett Schofield, are impressive, too. I particularly like the stroppy-looking crab in the interstitial artwork. Maybe that's who kept putting the pebbles out - and always carrying them with the same pincer, judging by how much more well-developed the right one is compared to the left.
My character is a priest, and consequently gets a lower Skill score than the average FF hero, so I will be allocating dice at character creation. The Skill I rolled up on my first attempt was so poor that I doubted my ability to survive a fight with a couple of Goblins, and resorted to pelting my unimposing opponents with sorcerously-generated explosives until they ceased to be a threat. Which was, admittedly, quite fun, but made it clear that I'd be in trouble if I ran into practically any other kind of monster.
Anyway, I'm supposed to be a veteran adventuring priest, so it makes sense that, rather than a Skill 5 bungler, I should be something like this:
Skill 10
Stamina 15
Luck 11
I'd actually have had a fairly respectable Skill even if I'd taken the dice as they fell, but I'd have been stuck with a mediocre Luck, so allocating was still probably the wise choice.
I have been called in to deal with the theft of the Idol of Verlang from the temple which housed it. All the evidence points to the Horntoads from the Croaking Caves in Daddu-Yaddu, just across the river - so much so, in fact, that I suggest that someone might be trying to frame them. High priest Gulanti has no doubt as to their guilt, though, reminding me of the increase in acts of piracy by the Horntoads since (rumour has it) a Salamander installed himself as their ruler. That's the kind of Salamander that comes from the Elemental Plane of Fire, rather than the real-life amphibian variety, in case you weren't clear on that.
Gulanti explains that, according to legend, the First-spawned of the Salamanders were made to assist in the creation of the Idol. His suggestion of the motive behind the theft is intriguing: there's quite a difference between 'believing the Idol to rightfully be the property of the Salamanders' and 'rightfully believing the Idol to be the property of the Salamanders', and the turn of phrase used either indicates Gulanti to have made a hash of his grammar or hints that the forge-priests of Verlang are the ones in the wrong, and the Salamanders have a legitimate claim. Still, this is a Fighting Fantazine mini-adventure, not one of those 'can you spot the six slips of the tongue that led the criminal to give himself away?' puzzles that used to be popular, so I shall have to risk life and limb to try and recover the Idol.
As a forge-priest myself, I have some magical ability, which turns out to be a stripped-down version of the Sorcery! spell book. It has the advantage of familiarity, but the lack of any new spells (especially ones of obvious use to smelters and metal-workers) is a bit of a missed opportunity. Think of the fun that could have been had if the 'fake' spell BAM (mentioned to mislead readers of The Shamutanti Hills) had turned out to be an incantation that would drop an anvil on the designated spot. Looking on the bright side, I'm a little better prepared than any wizard character at the start of the Sorcery! saga, as I get to start with one of the items required for casting certain spells. I go for the cloth skullcap that can help me read minds.
I am taken across the river in the Schoolfish, a coracle ferry (which comes as a surprise, as I didn't think coracles were big enough for a crew and passenger(s), but a quick check reveals that some varieties can get quite crowded). On the way, Captain Unanza tells me a bit about Daddu-Yaddu: in addition to the Croaking Caves, this region contains the Orc-controlled Crystal Mines, the potentially helpful Under-Temple of Throff and the hazardous Tunnels of Ooze.
No sooner have I been deposited on the shore than the boat departs again, as loitering here is apparently unsafe. As the Schoolfish pulls away, the Captain yells to me that if - sorry, when - I complete my mission, I should light a beacon atop the cliff. She also shouts a warning, but the wind keeps me from hearing more than, "Watch out for the grem-", and there's actually quite a variety of ways that last word could end, as I shall indicate with hyperlinked asterisks whenever there's potential of encountering something that starts with 'grem-'.
I perform a quick search of the beach, and am relieved to find it free of novice surfers*. Even better, I find some more spell components, all of which I add to my inventory: sand, stone dust, and three pebbles. Thus equipped, I find a path ascending the cliff, and climb up to the mine entrance. The Captain had mentioned that they're guarded by Dark Goblins, and I see a couple on duty. The prefix suggests that they might be different from your average Goblin, but even if it gives them an extra Skill point or two, they shouldn't be too hard to fight. Still, if they sound an alarm I could be in trouble, so I decide to try reading their minds to see if I can find a means of bluffing my way past them.
No passwords on their minds, alas, but I do learn the safe route through the mines. Also that they are bored, hungry, and afraid of the big Orc who is their boss. Well, I can make things more interesting for them, after which I doubt that they'll have much need for food, and they should have learned (however briefly) that there are scarier things than Orcs in the vicinity.
Looking at the other spell options provided, I see that if I'd chosen a Galehorn rather than the skullcap, I might be able to blow the guards off the cliff, but that safe path is probably worth more to me than being able to avoid combat. Oh, definitely: their being 'Dark' Goblins makes them no tougher or more competent than the ordinary variety, and even though they attack simultaneously (using a new variant on the 'fighting more than one opponent at the same time' rules) I have no trouble killing both.
Beyond the mine entrance are three tunnels, helpfully labelled. I shall leave 'Mines' until last. 'Boss' shouldn't be much of a problem, unless he's able to raise an alarm. In case that is so, I shall check out 'Gear' first, in the hope of finding some useful equipment. To my surprise, this leads not to a storeroom but to a cave which has been turned into a shop by an enterprising Svinn, who may have got his job through nominative determinism, as his name is Hagla. Now, Svinns are not necessarily evil, and the robe Hagla wears suggests to me that he might be a sorcerer himself, so I have a couple of valid reasons for checking out his wares rather than attacking.
He expresses his pleasure at having a customer in stronger language than is usual for FF, and apparently recognises me as a magic-user, as he draws my attention to the spell components he acquired from an Analander (in a manner that proves this Svinn, at least, to be a bit of a bad lot). If I'd gone to other places first, I might have some of the things he's prepared to buy. As it is, I can only spend some of what little cash I have on me, so I content myself with buying a rope and a knife. I could get an extra portion of Provisions or two, but I might need money elsewhere. Besides, a little wariness could be called for: who knows what sort of accompaniment* Svinns might have with their food?
Returning to the mine entrance, I now decide to investigate the Orc who so intimidated those Goblin guards. He lives in surprisingly opulent surroundings, with fur rugs on the floor and an assortment of hunting trophies mounted on the walls. Suspecting that I have come to steal his diamonds, he threatens me. I could cast a spell here, but a smack in the head with my warhammer should do the trick.
He's actually a Great Orc (and that 'Great' does come with enhanced stats), and arms himself with a scimitar and a whip, the latter potentially introducing complications. Indeed, a couple of rounds into the fight, he manages to entangle me in the whip, and the resultant Skill penalty indirectly leads to my taking a little damage. Not enough to keep me from killing him, though. A quick search of his chamber turns up some more money, a little food, some lumps of coal (Could these be his 'diamonds'? After all, both substances are composed of carbon...) and a stoppered jar made of crystal, which I could have sold to Hagla if I'd come this way first, but there's no going back, alas.
Well, not unless I want to leave this place altogether, and it's a bit soon for that. I proceed to the actual mines, and somehow the very act of my entering them triggers an alarm, causing a portcullis to drop down behind me. I could use magic to deal with the portcullis, but I'd rather make use of the secret I learned from the Goblins, so I head deeper into the mines.
Rapidly reaching a crossroads, I hear the sound of Goblins coming to investigate the alarm, and take the turning I know to be on the safe route. This leads to a rubble-strewn corner where I get more stone dust and pebbles. Further on I reach a junction at which a cave-in has killed some of the miners. One of the dead was a Giant (so either these are huge passages or he had a really miserable job even before the fatal accident), and as Giants' teeth have their uses in spellcasting, I take one of them before continuing on my way.
The 'safe route' turns out to be flawed, as it leads me to a chamber with pits and sinkholes in the floor, and while I manage to avoid falling into any of them, section number recognition tells me that continuing to follow the path indicated by what I learned from the Goblins would take me back where I've already been. I shall assume that this chamber is not where I should have gone and return to the previous junction to take the turning I previously spurned.
That might not be so clever, either, as it leads to a deserted part of the mines with rust-orange mould on the walls. Mould which appears a trifle more mobile than it has any right to be, and I don't loiter to see if it's just a trick of the light. If I keep going, I'll wind up north of sinkhole chamber (I'm not even trying to memorise these section numbers - they just stuck in my head when I typed them into the gamebook manager), so I'll chance that.
It takes me to a chamber where abandoned mining equipment is covered in sand. I take some more sand and go through the one exit that leads to somewhere I've not yet been. To a slightly odd place, in fact: one would expect the breeze to have erased the footprints in the dust. The turning from which the breeze issues could be an exit, but it's in entirely the wrong direction for the route in the Goblins' minds. Yes, I have already had to deviate from a literal reading of that route, but the path I've followed (minus the detour to the pitted cavern) could be considered a looser interpretation of it. So I'm treating the possible exit as a potential deathtrap and sticking with this take on the alleged safe path.
Doing so takes me to a cave strewn with boulders. Only they're not boulders, they're the well-camouflaged vermin known as Grannits, as I discover when one of them bites me. I smash a couple of them and continue on my way. And it's now looking as if that breezy tunnel was the way out after all, as continuing to follow the 'safe' path leads to a run-in with a venomous snake. I kill it, but its bite does more damage than the total I've taken over the course of the rest of the adventure. And to add insult to injury, not taking the turning that was contraindicated by that 'safe path' has led me in a great big circle. So unless the pursuing Goblins catch up with me at the exit (and only the exit), there's no actual way of running into them, and the whole implied chase is just a big con. My memories of this adventure would have been a good deal less favourable if I hadn't eliminated the portcullis and fled the mines straight off on my previous playthrough.
The quick way back to the exit would mean incurring another Grannit bite, so I go via the rubble corner, the dead Giant, the mould and the derelict mining equipment. The breezy passage leads to a chamber where a Rhino-Man watches over a group of slave miners... and three Dark Goblins stream in, intent on killing me. They are so getting a fistful of explosive pebbles thrown their way.
As it turns out, the best option once I've cast the spell is to pelt the Rhino-Man with the pebbles. Every one is on target, killing him before he can get near me, and the Dark Goblins are no match for me in combat. Once they're dead, I take the Rhino-Man's keys and free the slaves, so I've achieved something of merit today no matter how my primary mission goes.
As their liberator I get a hefty Luck bonus that would be useful if I'd used any Luck up until now (stop sniggering, Mr. Ballingall: having it go to waste is still nowhere near as annoying as being slapped with an arbitrary penalty), and the miners present me with some money, food and rope they'd managed to squirrel away while their oppressors were busy pretending to chase intruders or something. They then start making plans to free the slaves held in other parts of the mines, and I eat a meal to restore some of the Stamina I've lost in here before departing to resume my actual quest.
Back at the beach I find another three pebbles. Wonder how I missed them before. The money I've accumulated should be enough for the doubtless obligatory donation at the Under-Temple, so I decide to head there next, despite the possible risk posed by whatever arcane forces might be present in one or more of the cloths* it contains.
The Under-Temple is in a cave which has been fitted with a couple of massive doors. Annoyingly, one of the Sorcery! spells that the forge-priests neglected to acquire is the one that opens locks. I lack the items needed for casting two of the ones that I am given the option of casting right now, not that I'd be inclined to try either one if I did have the wherewithal: creating a strong breeze isn't likely to achieve much, and enhancing my strength to the point where I can smash the doors down is not likely to endear me to the priests. I may not want to find out what they're like when they get angry*...
That leaves mind-reading or knocking. The former will only be of use if there's someone behind the doors (or the doors themselves are sapient - there is precedent), and considering how useful the information I gained from reading the Goblins' minds wasn't, I'm not sure it'll be worth doing even if it does work. I just knock.
A bald priest with a beard and a crystal-topped staff opens the door just wide enough to tell me that the Under-Temple is closed and unbelievers are not allowed in. I hurriedly indicate my willingness to make a contribution towards the upkeep of the place, and he comes to the conclusion that letting me in would be an ecumenical matter rather than profanation.
Under-Priest Zhiamle (is he an Under-Priest because this is the Under-Temple, or does the title merely reflect his low rank?) welcomes me in once I've handed over an appropriate sum, and indicates that I can visit the Library of Throff or the Holy Pool. A bit of research strikes me as being potentially helpful, though it could also prove hazardous, depending on who published* the Library's contents.
On the way to the Library we pass a number of empty monastic cells, and Zhiamle explains that most of the priests are away helping with restoration work on another Temple, so only he and Kasmanti the Arch-Librarian remain here. Kasmanti has a longer beard than Zhiamle, and makes it clear from the outset that I'll have to pay for the information I seek. Money is not yet an issue, so I ask about Horntoads.
Kasmanti hands me an assortment of scrolls penned by an unspecified Grey Mage (which I believe to be an in-jokey reference to a member of FF fandom). The most noteworthy facts contained within concern the Horntoads' love of bees (as a snack) and the vicious nature of their tadpoles. As regards the directions for acting on the first of those details should I find a convenient source of bees, pedantry compels me to point out that you subtract 'from', not 'to'.
I still have plenty of money, so I also pay to look at the Library's singed copy of Incendiare the Pyromancer's definitive treatise on Salamanders. This mentions that Salamanders can be banished to the Elemental Plane where they originated by speaking their true names, and some irresponsible book-defacer has scrawled what they believe to be the name of the Salamander of the Croaking Caves at the bottom of the page. Useful if they're right, but this may be like one of those sneaky gamebooks where getting the item or datum required to defeat the villain isn't enough on its own, and some modification is necessary to make the game-winning McGuffin function properly.
Reading up on other local fauna risks derailing my running gag with facts, but I'll take that chance in case the information that can be gained is too useful to overlook. And it turns out that 'denizens' is being used to refer to noteworthy characters who have visited the region, most of whom can be encountered in one of the later Sorcery! books, though there is also a piece on a reclusive sage named Zared (possibly another FF fandom in-joke) who has taken up residence in the Tunnels of Ooze in order to research the people, lore and history of Daddu-Yaddu.
Having exhausted the relevant resources in the Library, I now proceed to check if the Holy Pool merits a visit. The pool itself is off-limits to the likes of me, but I can purchase a couple of Potions distilled from it, both of which could come in handy. Good thing I went to the Mines before I came to the Under-Temple (learning from past mistakes), as I'd have missed out on a lot of useful (or possibly vital) stuff if I'd come here with just my starting gold.
There's nothing else to do in the Under-Temple, so I return to the beach, where I discover another three pebbles. They join my inventory, though I am now starting to worry that there's some local resident with OCD who's getting increasingly fed up that every time they make sure there's just the right number of small stones on the shore, I come along and take the lot.
Back when Captain Unanza was telling me about the region, she advised me to stay away from the Tunnels of Ooze. Now I know they're the home of the person most likely to be able to tell me what is wrong with the Salamander's name I found in that book, I'm going to have to ignore the warning and explore the Tunnels as thoroughly as I can.
The Tunnels are damp, and probably submerged at high tide, as I find them occupied by a variety of marine creatures - crabs, starfish, mussels... Before long I reach a junction, and get to make a semi-informed choice about which way to go: the bone-strewn passage and the flooded one don't look that enticing anyway, but even if they didn't seem so unappealing, there's a humming noise coming from the other tunnel, and if that doesn't indicate the presence of some bees, I will be very surprised.
Yes, there's a beehive somewhat incongruously located in a crack in the ceiling, and I'm now glad that in the Mines I visited Hagla's stall before fighting the Great Orc, as that kept me from short-sightedly selling the stoppered jar that could be used for capturing some of the hive's occupants. Still, I have to climb up to the hive first, which requires a Skill roll. Having a rope gives me a bonus, but I roll well enough that I'd have succeeded anyway. Somehow I manage to dislodge the hive without getting stung, after which I descend and jam the jar into the opening in the hive. Annoyed bees fly into it, and I seal the jar and help myself to a meal's worth of honey before leaving the cave.
The exit leads to another fork in the tunnel. Again there are bones scattered in one passage, so it would appear that there's more than one way into the lair of whatever messy carnivore lives around here. Perhaps I should check it out after all, in case a messenger bearing some important message for Zared got waylaid.
For some reason, it is not until I reach a cavern littered with the bones of the dead that my character twigs that something unpleasant might be responsible for the deaths. Nevertheless, I draw my weapon in time to be ready for the attack of the killer, a large brute known as a Tarator. Unsure how I'd fare in a fight against it, I decide to make use of some of the sand I've harvested from the beach, transforming it into a pool of quicksand between the Tarator and me. The stupid creature blunders straight into it and rapidly sinks from sight, and my quick thinking earns me another superfluous Luck bonus. Searching the cavern, I find a few gold pieces and another Giant's tooth. On a less positive note, I also discover that my quicksand is blocking off one of the exits, and as there's no point in heading back to the beach just yet, I have to leave the way I came in. Still, the sage I seek isn't likely to have made his home in a cave that can only be accessed via a Tarator's lair, is he?
There's no point in going back to the cave with the wrecked beehive, either, so I head north when I get back to the fork. Shaking walls herald the arrival of a Baddu-Beetle, one of the more tiresome species found in the region, owing to its acid-spitting habits. Habits it manifests before I can take any action, but Luck is with me, and the caustic expectorate hits the wall. I don't have the option of using magic here, so I must either flee or try to crush the pest with my hammer, risking a retaliatory gobbet of corrosive sputum every time I hit the wretched thing.
It's probably not worth it, especially as there's a risk of getting my arm spat on and losing Skill as well as Stamina. I run. That also proves a risky course of action, as there's a sinkhole up ahead, and anyone running along the tunnel incurs a penalty to the Skill roll to avoid falling in. Not enough of a penalty that I do go over the edge, though.
As I'm catching my breath, things take a turn for the ludicrous. Down from above comes a malevolent jellyfish-like entity that I recognise to be a Skurasha. They're generally found working for Demon Princes, and even the text acknowledges that this one seems more than slightly out of place. If I fight it, I run a slight risk of falling into the sinkhole, but I'm not running away again if it can be avoided.
The 'fall in' outcome takes effect if I ever roll a double 1 while determining my Attack Strength. Over the course of the fight I get a statistically anomalous number of doubles (4 in 9 rounds), but never lower than a double 2, and in the end it's the Skurasha's body that goes down into the pit. I get a Luck bonus for defeating it (and this one I can use), and then get to choose between trying to climb up to the beach or squeezing through a crack in the wall. I've not found that sage yet, so it's too soon to leave.
Beyond the crack is the place where my previous attempt at this adventure ended. Three tunnels lead into this chamber, which has an intriguing-looking driftwood door on the far side. And a big patch of quicksand ideally positioned to catch out anyone who heads for that door (with no option of not making for it). As I recall, trying to use my rope to extricate myself leads to a Skill roll, which ought not to be too much of a problem on this occasion, but was a pretty hopeless prospect for my low-Skilled character last time. I do also have the option of using magic, but that's just Mr. Wright being mean. A choice of three spells is offered. One only works on living opponents, and is thus useless in this situation. The second doesn't work without the right item, which can only be acquired at character creation or if you have the money and foresight to get it at Hagla's, and I'm not sure what good it could do even if I were able to cast it. The third leads straight to Instant Death.
Still, my Skill should suffice to make the rope all I need - and it does. I lasso the door-handle and drag myself out. Beyond the door is the cavern described in what I read about Zared, but things are, of course, not that simple. The misanthropic so-and-so has only gone and created a Sand Golem to kill anyone who gets past his quicksand trap. I wonder if my quicksand-generating spell can be used to turn the Golem to goo.
No, I just create a patch of quicksand as normal, and the Golem absorbs it when wading through. Still, that's not as bad as it sounds, as this causes the Golem to become slower and more solid, reducing its Skill and negating its ability to reduce the damage it takes. A few smacks with the hammer turn it into a harmless assortment of splatters, so I can now try to track down the Sage and see what he can tell me about the Salamander.
I call for Zared, who emerges from behind a clump of giant mushrooms and thanks me for killing the Golem, which he claims to have created by accident. I'm prepared to believe him, as he's extremely hungry, and will info-dump for food. I hand over a meal and ask about the Salamander, and Zared slightly shamefacedly tells me that he summoned it to get help with identifying a mysterious trident that he'd excavated. Rather than do as requested, it stole the trident, which enabled it to break its mystical bonds and escape to the Croaking Caves to take up dominion over the Horntoads. Oh, and it turns out that the trident is possessed, so I'll have to destroy it after I deal with the Salamander. Not exactly the "No, the Salamander's name is actually Dey'volt," I was expecting, but good to know all the same.
Zared is still hungry, and is willing to trade items for more food. I hand over another meal in return for a spell component, and decide that it's time I was on my way. The only exit that doesn't lead through that quicksand patch is a hole in the cavern roof, but Zared shows me his secret rope ladder, thereby enabling me to avoid what could have been a tricky Skill roll.
Back to the beach, where I replenish my sand and create more work for the Secret Pebble-Placer of Daddu-Yaddu, and now it's time to move on from areas I vaguely remember from trying the adventure once over 5 years ago and enter the region I have never previously explored. Once I've consumed enough Provisions to bring me back up to full health, into the Croaking Caves I go.
The entrance is a foul-smelling, slimy cavern mouth. As I enter, a couple of Horntoad guards identify me as an intruder and charge to the attack. As they've already seen me, it may be a bit late to use the Potion of Transformation I got at the Holy Pool, and I think the bees should be saved for a larger group, so unless I want to try reading the minds of the guards who want to kill me, fighting would appear to be the only option.
Not the best decision I've ever made, as that's a pretty tough fight. But for the new variant of the 'fighting multiple opponents' rules, plus a few uses of Luck, I wouldn't have survived. As it is, I finish the fight with next to no Stamina left, and have to down the Potion of Healing I also bought from the Pool. One of the dead Horntoads is carrying enough cooked fish to constitute a portion of Provisions, which slightly improves my prospects, but it looks as if things are definitely getting tougher from now on.
Pressing on into the caves, I reach a junction, and take the turning east. This brings me to a pool of water, and as I stare into it, a scaly limb emerges. Could this be some kind of lizard*? Even if this is what I was warned of, curiosity outweighs caution, so I wait as a peculiar piscine anthropomorph in impractical swashbuckling dress drags itself out of the water and advances on me, rapier in hand.
A spot of mind-reading reveals this creature to have thought patterns too alien for me to be able to understand much. Still, I can ascertain that it's not evil, though it is somewhat arrogant and impetuous. Bearing these character flaws in mind, I try talking to the fishy fellow. He announces himself to be Merkurio the Swordfish, an emissary from Atlantis, who's getting fed up with waiting for an audience with the Salamander. No mention of the Salamander's name, though, and this could have been a nicely sneaky way to reveal it if the one I read in the Under-Temple library is wrong.
Merkurio declares himself to be 'the second greatest blade-master of all the oceans'. A minor grammatical error can make things a little confusing here: the omission of an inverted comma momentarily makes it look as if his subsequent claim is a statement of in-story fact by the author rather than an erroneous assumption on Merkurio's part. This would appear to be the 'deliberate plagiarism' from US Steve Jackson that Mr. Wright mentions in a footnote at the start of the adventure, as Merkurio can provide tuition in swordplay, much like Cyrano the Swordfish in Demons of the Deep (an encounter I didn't last long enough to reach when playing Demons here, though I did in my rather cursory write-up of an earlier playthrough at the FF forum).
So long as there's no sneaky twist on the Jackson encounter here, this should be an opportunity to improve my Skill, and that Horntoad guard fight has made it clear that an extra point or two would not go amiss, so I shall take advantage of Merkurio's mistake and pay for the training he offers. Besides, given what I learned from my mind-reading, I suspect that telling him he is mistaken will offend him, which could lead to a fight to the death against a potentially superior opponent.
Like Cyrano, Merkurio teaches by sparring with his pupils, and precedes the training bout by offering a drink of a restorative which guarantees that nobody will die in the fight (at least, not without unnecessary and irresponsible use of Luck). If I'd known this was coming up, I'd have saved my Potion of Healing (though I'd have had to consume Provisions in order to survive the Stamina cost of that mind-reading spell).
While Merkurio and I are evenly matched, Skill-wise, I prevail in the fight, which may be to my disadvantage: the Skill gain in Demons was higher for players who lost to Cyrano. And Merkurio may not take kindly to being beaten by a pupil... No, for all his arrogance, he's not a bad loser. Proclaiming himself 'a teacher of masters', Merkurio returns to his pool, and I get a Skill bonus I can use.
Returning to the junction, I go the other way, which leads to a large chamber containing a pool of muck in which hordes of Horntoads cavort and play. Now would probably be a good time to use that Potion of Transformation: fighting this many is sure to be suicidal, offering bees might get me fatally stampeded, creating quicksand strikes me as unlikely to help much against amphibians (unless Mr. Wright took inspiration from the infamous drowning fish-being who appeared in Doctor Who around a year and a half before Shrine was published), mind-reading seems unlikely to help much in this situation, and I still lack the component necessary for casting the other spell usable here. Yes, the Potion disguises me well enough that I can cross the cavern without incident, and I get a welcome Luck bonus for avoiding trouble.
As the effects of the Potion wear off, I reach a junction, with crude carvings at the different tunnel mouths providing the only hint of what may lie ahead. The flame symbol suggests the Salamander, so I'll avoid that for now in case something of use in the endgame can be found in any or all of the other passages. A circle within a circle might be a crude likeness of Horntoad-spawn, suggesting a potential run-in with the vicious tadpoles of which I read. Wavy lines must be something to do with water. No idea what the half-full semi-circle could indicate, though, so I shall investigate that way first.
As I move along the passage, an unpleasant smell hints at what awaits me: the local latrine. The stench alone costs me Stamina. If I could read what passes for writing among the Horntoads, it might be worth checking the place out for scurrilous graffiti that reveals the actual true name of the Salamander (even a barely literate species such as Horntoads will have some tearaways who enjoy decorating the walls with obscenities, libellous allegations and purported humour, right?), but since I can't, there's no point. Besides, back at the Holy Pool I was told that the Potion of Healing cured illness in addition to restoring Stamina. I doubt that that would have been mentioned if there were no possibility of contracting a nasty ailment somewhere in the adventure, and an insanitary locale like this seems a prime location for coming down with grot disease (as if anybody's going to get that in-joke) or the like, so I return to the junction at speed.
What about the water, then? None too surprisingly, that passage leads to the bank of a stream. Across the water I see a beach and a tunnel leading north, but before I can consider the options for getting across, I am unexpectedly ambushed and choked into unconsciousness.
I come round in a different cave, my hands tied and my belongings piled up close by. Also in the cave is a fire, and a roasting spit that looks as if it could bear the weight of a human. This is not promising. Nor is the fact that something large is advancing along the tunnel that leads into the cave. Can I grab the knife I bought from Hagla and cut my bonds before the chef arrives? To do so requires a Skill roll with a penalty, but I succeed, and am able to grab my warhammer in time to defend myself from the approaching would-be cook.
It's a Gremoll. One of the fan-created monsters that first appeared in Warlock magazine (as did the Skurasha, now I come to think of it, though not in the same issue). And while he might have been a serious threat if I'd been unable to free myself, Jamie Gremolliver isn't much to worry about for an armed and unbound adventurer of my capabilities.
Retrieving the rest of my belongings, I head down the tunnel, which leads to the beach I'd been wondering how to reach before I got added to the menu. Noises from the river remind me that Gremoll tend to live in small groups, so I hurry away via the passage to the north without even stopping to grab some sand or look for pebbles. This leads to another junction, and the markings on the tunnels here suggest that I was wrong about that flame symbol. The carving that looks like a frog with a crown is much more likely to indicate the way to the Salamander. The squirming lizard glyph is less straightforward, but the vertical bars could denote a dungeon, so for starters I shall see if there's any more liberating to be done.
Yes, that passage leads to some cells. There appears to be nobody on guard, but if the racket kicked up by the lone prisoner as soon as she catches sight of me is anything to go by, the gaoler may have snuck off for a bit of peace and quiet. The prisoner is a Black Elf in spiked armour, who demands that I let her out. Morality-wise, Black Elves are one of the less straightforward peoples on Titan. They're not inherently bad, but the only ones I can remember from earlier FF books were all in the employ of villains: one working in Balthus Dire's wine cellar, and a couple of guards in Mampang Fortress (not that I lived long enough to encounter them when playing that book here).
I don't have the option of asking how this Black Elf came to wind up in the cell, only of abandoning her to her fate (with no Luck penalty for heartlessness, judging by the section number) or using a spell to try and free her. It's not good to judge individuals based on the actions of others who share some genetic or chromosomal similarity, so I'll try to free her. I have plenty of pebbles, but I'm not sure I can be sure of only blowing the ****** door off, so I'll try using a Giant's tooth instead. This creates a Giant, who rips the door off the cell before vanishing.
The Black Elf emerges from the cell, thanks me, and then menaces me with her scimitar, demanding some proof of my trustworthiness. Charming! And where were your concerns about my morality back when you were yelling at me to break you out of prison, eh, young lady? Luckily, I am able to convince her that I mean her no harm, and she introduces herself as Verrema, a
Returning to the junction, I decide to investigate the passage with the sign of the squirming lizard. The temperature rises as we proceed along it, eventually reaching a cavern. Before we can enter it, a young Salamander emerges and attacks. Verrema is not impressed at my lack of stealth, but assists me in combat anyway. And straight off, I get the absurd situation implicit in the rules for being assisted by her in battle. I get an Attack Strength of 21, the young Salamander gets 18, and Verrema only manages 13. Which, the rules suggest, means that despite beating the Salamander, I have a 50% chance of being injured by it. As it transpires, Verrema is the one who gets wounded anyway, and for the rest of the fight we both beat the Salamander every Round. Still, with slightly less favourable rolls, I could theoretically have got the highest Attack Strength every round and still been killed by the Salamander. Which is daft. I hope I don't end up regretting having acquired this sidekick.
Proceeding into the cavern, we see numerous glowing egg sacs. Verrema identifies the place as a hatchery, and muses on whether or not it's worth inflicting a bit of carnage here: there won't be any treasure, but it would reduce the risk of being bothered by more young Salamanders. While she's thinking out loud, half a dozen hatchlings surround us, taking the choice out of our hands. Against multiple opponents we can take it in turns to fight, so I go with that option for simplicity's sake. Verrema is injured once by the second Salamander Eft she fights, but apart from that it's a pretty one-sided massacre. The eggs that have yet to hatch don't put up a fight at all. As long as we can deal with the parent, the people of Daddu-Yaddu won't have to worry about Salamanders any more. Unless Zared gets any more not-so-smart ideas...
We head back to the junction and take the final passage. Unsurprisingly, it leads to the shrine of the Horntoads' god, which is decorated with skulls and monstrous carvings. It also contains the stolen idol. Before I can recover it, the Salamander enters and (with slightly sloppy grammar) tells me of his plans to take the idol back to his home, where he thinks it belongs. Verrema is not pleased to see him, and when he announces that he plans to eat her, she threatens to force-feed him his own tail. Not impressed with the quality of their banter, I try using the name I read in the library, which turns out to be the right one after all. The Salamander is dragged through a portal back to his plane of origin, without any opportunity to grab the idol and take it with him, and the trident clatters to the floor.
Remembering what Zared told me, I prepare to defend myself, and when the trident goes for me, I am able to parry its initial attack. It is unclear whether or not Verrema participates in the subsequent fight, but I'm probably better off without her assistance. A couple of blows with my hammer break the enchantment (and probably also the trident), and that's mission accomplished. Except for the bit where I have to get back past the hordes of Horntoads, who may not be massively happy with me for having killed their ruler...
Or so it would be if I'd left Verrema in the cell. But while I've been fighting the trident, she's found a secret door, behind which a staircase leads all the way up to the top of the cliff. The snarky manner in which she informs me of her discovery is somewhat undercut by another authorial lapse in grammar, which has her briefly lapsing into a speech pattern that reminds me of the Gungans from the first Star Wars prequel.
We climb the stairs and light the beacon, and the text has the adventure end there, as we await the return of Captain Unanza and her coracle. But I think the person responsible for all this trouble still has some consequences to face, so I find the hole by which I exited Zared's cave, and drop all my unused pebbles into it. Then I climb down to the beach and write a message in the sand, explaining where the missing pebbles may be found. A little petty, perhaps, but whatever trouble may ensue is likely to be less unpleasant for the sage than what is likely to happen if Verrema ever finds out that he's the one who summoned the Salamander in the first place...
That was entertaining. It has a few issues (notably the 'safe route' through the mines that has to be ignored if you want to ever get out), but it's a definite improvement on the previous mini-adventure. The accompanying illustrations, by Brett Schofield, are impressive, too. I particularly like the stroppy-looking crab in the interstitial artwork. Maybe that's who kept putting the pebbles out - and always carrying them with the same pincer, judging by how much more well-developed the right one is compared to the left.
Friday, 2 November 2018
So Few Signs of Life
When I bought a copy of the Tunnels & Trolls Adventurers Compendium, I noticed that some other T&T material was downloadable for free on the site hosting it, so I grabbed some of that at the same time. This included the solo adventure The Temple of Issoth, by Dan Hembree, which seems more thematically appropriate for this time of year than anything in the Compendium, so I'm having a go at it now.
Only characters of a certain standard can try this adventure, but the requirements are met by my veteran character from Seven Ayes (okay, so his track record consists only of a trip to the pub, but getting out of there intact still makes him more of a survivor than the vast majority of T&T characters), so I'll use him rather than one of the pre-generated characters provided. His poor Charisma could be an issue, as the General Instructions suggest that all stats may be tested at different stages, but that's a risk I'll just have to take.
The priests of Issoth have abducted the son of a local farmer, and intend to sacrifice him. Based on what he has heard about me from the innkeeper, the farmer has sought my assistance, though I'm not sure how the rather limited skillset I displayed in my previous adventure qualifies me for the rescue mission. I'm offered 100 gold talents if I do this, which is apparently not a great deal, though I do also have the option of declining the reward. I’m low on funds, and the reward offered could get me some reasonably good armour, so I think I’ll accept, but if I survive and get some decent loot in the temple, I’ll let the farmer keep his money.
The farmer thanks me, and urges me to make haste, as the sacrifice will probably be held before sunrise. I head off to the temple, which apparently just appeared one night, turning the farmland around it into a wasteland. Its malign influence is clearly powerful, as I have to trek through the desolation for a couple of hours to get to the temple, a surprisingly non-ominous-looking structure. No external walls surround it, and I see no guards, nor any features other than the double doors. Still, there may be a less obvious entrance round the side or back, so I make a quick recce. This requires me to make a Saving Roll on Luck, and the rules don’t appear to be working quite as I’m accustomed to: rather than having a set difficulty level, I just roll and check to see what level check the roll would pass. That has ramifications for the Experience Points gained, but as I roll just too low for even a level 1 success, I may not be around long enough for that to matter.
Behind the temple I run into a couple of guards, who are surprised to see me, but not sufficiently so to give me any advantage in the ensuing battle. We’re surprisingly evenly matched, though my lack of armour could tip things in their favour. And it does – well, that and the fact that the dice seem biased against me. Round after round I take small amounts of damage, only scoring a hit once, and on that lone occasion not doing sufficient damage to diminish the guards’ effectiveness, and then when I’m on my last legs, the guards suddenly get lucky and do almost as much damage with their final spear thrusts as they did in the whole of the rest of the fight.
Just out of curiosity, I replayed the fight, and the second time round I won at the cost of just over a third of my Constitution points. But there are no rematches in battle to the death, so I have to go with the unfavourable outcome.
Only characters of a certain standard can try this adventure, but the requirements are met by my veteran character from Seven Ayes (okay, so his track record consists only of a trip to the pub, but getting out of there intact still makes him more of a survivor than the vast majority of T&T characters), so I'll use him rather than one of the pre-generated characters provided. His poor Charisma could be an issue, as the General Instructions suggest that all stats may be tested at different stages, but that's a risk I'll just have to take.
The priests of Issoth have abducted the son of a local farmer, and intend to sacrifice him. Based on what he has heard about me from the innkeeper, the farmer has sought my assistance, though I'm not sure how the rather limited skillset I displayed in my previous adventure qualifies me for the rescue mission. I'm offered 100 gold talents if I do this, which is apparently not a great deal, though I do also have the option of declining the reward. I’m low on funds, and the reward offered could get me some reasonably good armour, so I think I’ll accept, but if I survive and get some decent loot in the temple, I’ll let the farmer keep his money.
The farmer thanks me, and urges me to make haste, as the sacrifice will probably be held before sunrise. I head off to the temple, which apparently just appeared one night, turning the farmland around it into a wasteland. Its malign influence is clearly powerful, as I have to trek through the desolation for a couple of hours to get to the temple, a surprisingly non-ominous-looking structure. No external walls surround it, and I see no guards, nor any features other than the double doors. Still, there may be a less obvious entrance round the side or back, so I make a quick recce. This requires me to make a Saving Roll on Luck, and the rules don’t appear to be working quite as I’m accustomed to: rather than having a set difficulty level, I just roll and check to see what level check the roll would pass. That has ramifications for the Experience Points gained, but as I roll just too low for even a level 1 success, I may not be around long enough for that to matter.
Behind the temple I run into a couple of guards, who are surprised to see me, but not sufficiently so to give me any advantage in the ensuing battle. We’re surprisingly evenly matched, though my lack of armour could tip things in their favour. And it does – well, that and the fact that the dice seem biased against me. Round after round I take small amounts of damage, only scoring a hit once, and on that lone occasion not doing sufficient damage to diminish the guards’ effectiveness, and then when I’m on my last legs, the guards suddenly get lucky and do almost as much damage with their final spear thrusts as they did in the whole of the rest of the fight.
Just out of curiosity, I replayed the fight, and the second time round I won at the cost of just over a third of my Constitution points. But there are no rematches in battle to the death, so I have to go with the unfavourable outcome.
Friday, 26 October 2018
We're in Cities at Night and We Got Time on Our Hands
Back in the mid-1980s, when I would habitually look at random pages of gamebooks on store bookshelves, one series that frequently got me to sneak a peek but never grabbed me sufficiently that I chose to add any of it to my collection was Plot Your Own Horror Story. The variety of nasty endings appealed, but I was put off by the lack of stats and the fact that some of the decisions determined not what my character did but what happened next.
As far as I can tell, the series is not particularly well-regarded within gamebook fandom. The books skew towards the Schroedinger end of the spectrum, and the resultant lack of consistency can affect tone as well as plot. To be fair, I have also seen it argued that they should be considered a separate subgenre within interactive fiction, using the gamebook formula to create a crude simulacrum of cooperative storytelling rather than 'an adventure in which you are the hero'. The series title supports that reading, actually.
One quirk of the series is that each page mentions the number of the page from which you just came, which is something of a bonus for the sort of reader who likes to leave a finger marking the previous section in case they chose poorly, or for those who enjoy searching for gruesome death paragraphs and take an interest in the sequence of events leading up to them. This feature also makes it a good deal easier to confirm if you've made a mistake and turned to the wrong section, though it doesn't help much with trying to remember where you just were so you can figure out where you should have gone.
A while back, in the course of browsing for second-hand books, I found a copy of book 2 in the series, Hilary Milton's Nightmare Store, which jogged my memory. While some of the other titles in the series turned up all over the place, I only ever came across a brand-new copy of Store in a bookshop near the end of Tunbridge Wells High Street. And browsing through it for inventive demises had led me to an ending that created a more powerful sense of unease than I got from most of the horror stories I read when going through that phase of my teens.
I'm not going to describe it here, because those recollections led to my buying the book with a view to blogging about it here, and as I'm just about to embark on my first ever proper attempt at the book, I might end up reaching the ending in question. I hope to find a route through the book that doesn't end badly, but one other detail I remember clearly is that the choice that leads into that particular ending has no good outcomes, so if I do wind up at that particular 'doomed if you do, doomed if you don't' section, I'll pick the option that so troubled my younger self.
My character hails from a small town in Mississippi, but I'm currently visiting relatives in Atlanta. This goes well until the day when both my uncle and aunt have commitments in the evening. Rather than leave me (their) home alone, my uncle suggests that I spend the evening in Wallenberg's department store, and gives me a little money to buy something for myself and a gift for my little brother. The store seems to be bigger than all the shops in my home town combined, and after spending some time exploring it, I sit down on a recliner in the TV display area. Having worn myself out, I doze off, and nobody notices me at closing time (hey, it was the eighties).
Waking to find myself in a deserted store with minimal lighting, and checking my watch to find that it's a good three quarters of an hour after my uncle was due to collect me, I react in a commendably level-headed manner. First I head to the office, hoping to be able to phone my aunt from there, but it's empty and locked. The phones at the counters are all dead, which alarms me until I conclude that there must be a master switch that cuts them off when the building is (supposedly) empty of people. The front door is also locked, and when I attempt to push down on the locking bar, it causes an unpleasant buzzing noise. My worry that it could be part of some security set-up that'll give me an electric shock if I don't let go seems a little fanciful, but maybe there's a sub-clause to the right to bear arms concerning the right to fry intruders.
Remembering having seen a telephone booth on the second floor, I decide to look for that, which is when things start getting odd. The escalators have, understandably, been shut down for the night, but as I ascend one, it starts moving. In the opposite direction, of course. I increase my pace, since going the wrong way on an escalator isn't that tricky, and the escalator accelerates to match my new speed. Eventually I give up, and just let it carry me down. And when I get close to the bottom, it reverses direction and speeds up again.
Once I'm almost at the top, I take the chance of leaping up the remaining distance, doing so just before the escalator starts to descend again, so I make it to the second floor. Disconcerted by this experience, I get to make my first decision: try to find a fire exit and use that to get out, or just settle down somewhere comfy for the night.
Better to be proactive than passive, I think. Suspecting that the fire escape will be situated in the rear of the store, I head in that direction. This takes me through the women's clothing department, and I am startled to catch sight of a woman staring at me. My alarm fades as I realise that she's just a mannequin (though if I were a little more genre-savvy, I'd know better than to be reassured by that).
Continuing on my way, I bump into a mirror, and hear a noise I can't identify from the left. Moving right, I reach a point at which I can again head for the rear, and catch sight of a sign that I think indicates an emergency exit, though legibility is poor in these conditions. Opening the double doors beneath the sign, I find myself at the top of a flight of stairs. The doors slam shut, and cannot be opened from this side.
A faint light at the bottom of the stairs is all I have to guide me down. As I descend, I become aware that the steps are getting narrower, which strikes me as being poor design. And then I realise that they weren't built that way: one of the walls is moving, and if it continues to do so, I risk being crushed. I need to get off these stairs, and fast. I'm about a quarter of the way down, so turning round and heading back up should take less time than trying to get to the bottom - at least in a manner that won't break a limb or my neck.
Taking the stairs three at a time, I get to the door just as the moving wall makes contact with my shoulder, and the run-up gives me enough momentum to be able to burst through the doors. Phew! Nevertheless, there is something seriously amiss here. The misbehaving escalator was bad enough, but walls should definitely not move like that.
Now I get one of those controversial fourth wall-breaking moments, as I have to decide whether or not I make a new discovery. If I do, it's not likely to be anything good, but just continuing to seek an exit probably won't be significantly safer. Let's introduce an unexpected development!
And... I'm not back in the women's clothing department (yeah, I chose not to go with that gag). The doors have led me into an empty room, which smells of gas, and what meagre illumination it has is flickering. Also, the walls are shaking. Catching sight of another door, I pull down on the locking bar, and the door opens for just long enough to let me through.
I'm outside! Close to the parking lot. Which makes no sense, but we've not exactly been at home to Mr. Rationality since the escalator's shenanigans, so I'm not going to argue with a topographical absurdity that's enabled me to escape from the store. There's a telephone booth close by, so I call the relatives, and within an hour I'm back at their place.
In the morning there's a report on the radio concerning the collapse of a wall in Wallenberg's department store. That's pretty inconclusive. Preferable to a report about the discovery of my corpse under the collapsed wall, though.
So, I survived. As a venture into the mildly creepy and weird, that wasn't bad. Different decisions might have led to something more preposterous, or to a much nastier ending. Talking of which, I'm still not going to describe the ending that so perturbed teen-me, because I'm a little curious about the sharedness or otherwise of my experience. Is there anybody reading this who remembers playing Nightmare Store when they were younger? If so, was there any ending that particularly troubled you? And should the answer to that question also be yes, that leaves just one final question: what was that ending?
As far as I can tell, the series is not particularly well-regarded within gamebook fandom. The books skew towards the Schroedinger end of the spectrum, and the resultant lack of consistency can affect tone as well as plot. To be fair, I have also seen it argued that they should be considered a separate subgenre within interactive fiction, using the gamebook formula to create a crude simulacrum of cooperative storytelling rather than 'an adventure in which you are the hero'. The series title supports that reading, actually.
One quirk of the series is that each page mentions the number of the page from which you just came, which is something of a bonus for the sort of reader who likes to leave a finger marking the previous section in case they chose poorly, or for those who enjoy searching for gruesome death paragraphs and take an interest in the sequence of events leading up to them. This feature also makes it a good deal easier to confirm if you've made a mistake and turned to the wrong section, though it doesn't help much with trying to remember where you just were so you can figure out where you should have gone.
A while back, in the course of browsing for second-hand books, I found a copy of book 2 in the series, Hilary Milton's Nightmare Store, which jogged my memory. While some of the other titles in the series turned up all over the place, I only ever came across a brand-new copy of Store in a bookshop near the end of Tunbridge Wells High Street. And browsing through it for inventive demises had led me to an ending that created a more powerful sense of unease than I got from most of the horror stories I read when going through that phase of my teens.
I'm not going to describe it here, because those recollections led to my buying the book with a view to blogging about it here, and as I'm just about to embark on my first ever proper attempt at the book, I might end up reaching the ending in question. I hope to find a route through the book that doesn't end badly, but one other detail I remember clearly is that the choice that leads into that particular ending has no good outcomes, so if I do wind up at that particular 'doomed if you do, doomed if you don't' section, I'll pick the option that so troubled my younger self.
My character hails from a small town in Mississippi, but I'm currently visiting relatives in Atlanta. This goes well until the day when both my uncle and aunt have commitments in the evening. Rather than leave me (their) home alone, my uncle suggests that I spend the evening in Wallenberg's department store, and gives me a little money to buy something for myself and a gift for my little brother. The store seems to be bigger than all the shops in my home town combined, and after spending some time exploring it, I sit down on a recliner in the TV display area. Having worn myself out, I doze off, and nobody notices me at closing time (hey, it was the eighties).
Waking to find myself in a deserted store with minimal lighting, and checking my watch to find that it's a good three quarters of an hour after my uncle was due to collect me, I react in a commendably level-headed manner. First I head to the office, hoping to be able to phone my aunt from there, but it's empty and locked. The phones at the counters are all dead, which alarms me until I conclude that there must be a master switch that cuts them off when the building is (supposedly) empty of people. The front door is also locked, and when I attempt to push down on the locking bar, it causes an unpleasant buzzing noise. My worry that it could be part of some security set-up that'll give me an electric shock if I don't let go seems a little fanciful, but maybe there's a sub-clause to the right to bear arms concerning the right to fry intruders.
Remembering having seen a telephone booth on the second floor, I decide to look for that, which is when things start getting odd. The escalators have, understandably, been shut down for the night, but as I ascend one, it starts moving. In the opposite direction, of course. I increase my pace, since going the wrong way on an escalator isn't that tricky, and the escalator accelerates to match my new speed. Eventually I give up, and just let it carry me down. And when I get close to the bottom, it reverses direction and speeds up again.
Once I'm almost at the top, I take the chance of leaping up the remaining distance, doing so just before the escalator starts to descend again, so I make it to the second floor. Disconcerted by this experience, I get to make my first decision: try to find a fire exit and use that to get out, or just settle down somewhere comfy for the night.
Better to be proactive than passive, I think. Suspecting that the fire escape will be situated in the rear of the store, I head in that direction. This takes me through the women's clothing department, and I am startled to catch sight of a woman staring at me. My alarm fades as I realise that she's just a mannequin (though if I were a little more genre-savvy, I'd know better than to be reassured by that).
Continuing on my way, I bump into a mirror, and hear a noise I can't identify from the left. Moving right, I reach a point at which I can again head for the rear, and catch sight of a sign that I think indicates an emergency exit, though legibility is poor in these conditions. Opening the double doors beneath the sign, I find myself at the top of a flight of stairs. The doors slam shut, and cannot be opened from this side.
A faint light at the bottom of the stairs is all I have to guide me down. As I descend, I become aware that the steps are getting narrower, which strikes me as being poor design. And then I realise that they weren't built that way: one of the walls is moving, and if it continues to do so, I risk being crushed. I need to get off these stairs, and fast. I'm about a quarter of the way down, so turning round and heading back up should take less time than trying to get to the bottom - at least in a manner that won't break a limb or my neck.
Taking the stairs three at a time, I get to the door just as the moving wall makes contact with my shoulder, and the run-up gives me enough momentum to be able to burst through the doors. Phew! Nevertheless, there is something seriously amiss here. The misbehaving escalator was bad enough, but walls should definitely not move like that.
Now I get one of those controversial fourth wall-breaking moments, as I have to decide whether or not I make a new discovery. If I do, it's not likely to be anything good, but just continuing to seek an exit probably won't be significantly safer. Let's introduce an unexpected development!
And... I'm not back in the women's clothing department (yeah, I chose not to go with that gag). The doors have led me into an empty room, which smells of gas, and what meagre illumination it has is flickering. Also, the walls are shaking. Catching sight of another door, I pull down on the locking bar, and the door opens for just long enough to let me through.
I'm outside! Close to the parking lot. Which makes no sense, but we've not exactly been at home to Mr. Rationality since the escalator's shenanigans, so I'm not going to argue with a topographical absurdity that's enabled me to escape from the store. There's a telephone booth close by, so I call the relatives, and within an hour I'm back at their place.
In the morning there's a report on the radio concerning the collapse of a wall in Wallenberg's department store. That's pretty inconclusive. Preferable to a report about the discovery of my corpse under the collapsed wall, though.
So, I survived. As a venture into the mildly creepy and weird, that wasn't bad. Different decisions might have led to something more preposterous, or to a much nastier ending. Talking of which, I'm still not going to describe the ending that so perturbed teen-me, because I'm a little curious about the sharedness or otherwise of my experience. Is there anybody reading this who remembers playing Nightmare Store when they were younger? If so, was there any ending that particularly troubled you? And should the answer to that question also be yes, that leaves just one final question: what was that ending?
Friday, 19 October 2018
Unquiet Slumbers for the Sleepers in That Quiet Earth
My 'how I first got hold of the adventures' anecdotes hit a new low as I progress to the first mini-adventure from online FF mag Fighting Fantazine. Maybe if the forum where I learned that issue 1 was out hadn't been deleted some years back, I could give some kind of context, but as it is, all I can say is that I saw the announcement and downloaded the issue.
That defunct forum is also where I wrote up my first attempt at the adventure, 'zine editor Alexander Ballingall's Resurrection of the Dead, so I can't link to the write-up. I remember that, as my character started the adventure unarmed, I tried to acquire a weapon, which turned out to be a very effective means of remaining unarmed, getting penalised for my lack of eagerness to confront hordes of undead with my bare hands, and then being torn apart once the adventure forced me to seek out the army of the living dead and endeavour to slap them into submission. Mr Ballingall attempted to justify the Luck penalty with which I got slapped by saying that it was necessary to take away Luck early on so that the reader would appreciate getting a Luck bonus later on. With that kind of policy, it's a good thing that Fantazine contributors don't get paid for their articles.
I'm not sure how balanced the adventure is, so I shall take the risky step of accepting the dice as they fall during character generation. And promptly regret it, as I wind up with:
Skill 7 (currently reduced to 4 as I have no weapon)
Stamina 17
Luck 10
Well, I'm almost certainly doomed. At least the rules do indicate that the 'no weapon' penalty should be disregarded if I have to make a Skill roll: lacking an item designed for harming others does not lead to increased clumsiness or mental enfeeblement, no matter what the NRA might say.
I return to my home town of Bandur Green following a successful trading expedition, and am disappointed to find none of my friends in local hostelry The Frantic Rat. And I was all set to spend the evening telling them my new haggling anecdotes. Nobody's in when I try going to my friends' homes, either: some have even boarded up their doors and windows, and my good friend Karl (who would have loved to hear about how I got that trader to pay 7 gold pieces for goods worth only 6) appears to have abandoned the place entirely.
Eventually I bump into fellow merchant Forvin Louve, who invites me back to his home, but he's so busy talking about recent strange goings-on that I never get the opportunity to regale him with the tale of how I sold an alabaster polecat for almost one-and-a-half times what it cost me. Apparently there have been strange lights and 'odd things' glimpsed on the heath (plus some people have apparently seen haunting noises there, though that could just be sloppy sentence construction), a farmer went missing, as did most of the search party sent after him (the two exceptions having respectively been fatally mutilated and (in the case of Karl) gone mad). Oh, and there was a break-in at the Merchants' Guild just before all this started, but that's undoubtedly completely unrelated to everything else, correlation not equalling causation, and all that... Louve only really mentioned it on the off-chance that it might be helpful for me to learn that all these incidents of which I was unaware happened just after something else about which I knew nothing, even though they're surely not linked in any way...
The following morning I decide to do something about these peculiar happenings, since my skill in getting a good bargain is obviously just what's needed to sort out whatever menace proved more than a match for a group of twelve men. To start, I decide to see if the landlord at the Frantic Rat has heard any useful gossip. Or would like me to tell him about the profit I turned on a cask of Cragrock Cider. The tavern is pretty quiet at this early hour, and I'm surprised and a little concerned to find the text asking if I've gone looking for a blacksmith yet. I don't remember anything worthwhile having come from blacksmith-seeking on my previous attempt, so I hope this is a sneaky way of ascertaining whether or not I've actually wasted half the morning.
Barnock the barkeep is an old friend, so I start by asking what he knows about Karl's misadventures. Being such a good pal, he charges me money for the information, which is delivered in a syntax so changeable as to hint at multiple personality disorder. It turns out that the men who found Karl brought him to the pub, where he scared off half the clientele by babbling about the dead. Given the unfortunate man's constant harping about dead people, the local militia have formed the conclusion that Karl and the party he accompanied were attacked by Trolls. So the defenders of law and order in Bandur Green are the equivalent of the racist cretins who post comments on Yahoo! news.
Any other local news worth paying for? Not really, but I have to cough up to find out. Apart from things I've already learned from Louve, and gossip about which I don't care, all Barnock has to tell me is that someone attempted to defile the grave of local war hero Narron the Steady, and whoever perpetrated that break-in that has nothing to do with anything else seems not to have stolen anything.
Maybe the retired locals seated at a nearby table will have something useful to tell me. Nope, apart from reiterating a few things I already know, they just start arguing over minutiae, and I wind up getting hit in the face and losing a point of Luck (blasted sometime later Luck bonus - none of this misfortune would be happening if not for you). Well, visiting the pub has been a strong argument in favour of teetotalism.
Leaving the tavern, I'm presented with a variety of options (including going back into the Rat if I've already tried everything else, which raises questions about the structure of this adventure). Someone has set up a stall on the common, so I go there to see if that's where weapons can be acquired. No, it's a gambling booth run by a gypsy. The author should be commended for going against harmful stereotype, as there's no cheating going on here, but a gambling establishment (even on as small a scale as this one) that doesn't give 'the house' even a marginal advantage is not going to be economically viable. I win back almost as much as I paid out in the pub, and quit while I'm ahead.
Next I try checking out the cemetery. After the obligatory visit to my parents' grave, I am presented with several things to try. The site of the attempted defilement is an obvious choice, but I may be compelled to leave once I've been to it, so I'll try looking at headstones forcomical epitaphs useful information first. I do not find anything I feel to be relevant, but the text goes into very specific detail about just one of these irrelevances, so I shall not be surprised if the late Cowyn Thrawn and his unexplained dispute with Narron turn out to have significance after all.
Now I head for the crypt mentioned by Barnock, finding that the stone urn at the foot of Narron's bier has been smashed. This is not massively informative in itself, but the crypt has a convenient back door, so I have a nose inside. Which leads to the discovery that this is one of those adventures where you have to visit lots of places but in the right order, as I have not yet had the opportunity to procure either of the items that could be of some use here. This is particularly tiresome as they seem to be all that might provide some protection against the Wight that is lurching towards me.
The subsequent encounter goes about as well as could be expected. By which I mean that the crypt gains a new occupant, who isn't actually a member of the family that owns it. Still, I'm rather too dead to care about any scandal that might ensue.
This attempt at Resurrection has been frustrating in a different way from the previous one, as I can see hints of what may be a decent mystery here - the 'unrelated' break-in, the destruction of the urn, the rift between Narron and Thrawn... But depending on how closely the reader has to stick to the 'correct' route through the adventure, finding out the truth that connects these disparate elements with the undead menace may involve a tedious process of trial and error to figure out the right order in which to visit places. One of the things I like about the Webs of Intrigue gamebooks is that clues generate leads, enabling the reader to make informed decisions about what to try following up next. Being able to infer that you should have gone someplace else first, but only on account of being asked if you've been there yet, or owing to an item check that's the first hint that the object in question is even available, as in this adventure, does not compare.
Oh, and not having the option to at least try and look into the break-in at the Merchants' Guild (or, if it does become possible at some stage, needing to jump through assorted yet-to-be-identified hoops before getting the option) is irritating. Less of an annoyance than arbitrary Luck penalties thrown in just to make the reader feel grateful when the author deigns to provide a crumb of bonus, but still bothersome.
The amount of experience I have of the different Fantazine mini-adventures is variable, to say the least, and I've only had one attempt at more than half of the rest of the run. Some of those attempts were far too brief for me to be able to fairly judge the quality of the mini-adventure in question, but I can say with some confidence that this is not the worst of them. Subsequent blog posts should help me ascertain which of the potential candidates is the worst, so I shan't start ranting about some of the less fun stuff to come just yet.
That defunct forum is also where I wrote up my first attempt at the adventure, 'zine editor Alexander Ballingall's Resurrection of the Dead, so I can't link to the write-up. I remember that, as my character started the adventure unarmed, I tried to acquire a weapon, which turned out to be a very effective means of remaining unarmed, getting penalised for my lack of eagerness to confront hordes of undead with my bare hands, and then being torn apart once the adventure forced me to seek out the army of the living dead and endeavour to slap them into submission. Mr Ballingall attempted to justify the Luck penalty with which I got slapped by saying that it was necessary to take away Luck early on so that the reader would appreciate getting a Luck bonus later on. With that kind of policy, it's a good thing that Fantazine contributors don't get paid for their articles.
I'm not sure how balanced the adventure is, so I shall take the risky step of accepting the dice as they fall during character generation. And promptly regret it, as I wind up with:
Skill 7 (currently reduced to 4 as I have no weapon)
Stamina 17
Luck 10
Well, I'm almost certainly doomed. At least the rules do indicate that the 'no weapon' penalty should be disregarded if I have to make a Skill roll: lacking an item designed for harming others does not lead to increased clumsiness or mental enfeeblement, no matter what the NRA might say.
I return to my home town of Bandur Green following a successful trading expedition, and am disappointed to find none of my friends in local hostelry The Frantic Rat. And I was all set to spend the evening telling them my new haggling anecdotes. Nobody's in when I try going to my friends' homes, either: some have even boarded up their doors and windows, and my good friend Karl (who would have loved to hear about how I got that trader to pay 7 gold pieces for goods worth only 6) appears to have abandoned the place entirely.
Eventually I bump into fellow merchant Forvin Louve, who invites me back to his home, but he's so busy talking about recent strange goings-on that I never get the opportunity to regale him with the tale of how I sold an alabaster polecat for almost one-and-a-half times what it cost me. Apparently there have been strange lights and 'odd things' glimpsed on the heath (plus some people have apparently seen haunting noises there, though that could just be sloppy sentence construction), a farmer went missing, as did most of the search party sent after him (the two exceptions having respectively been fatally mutilated and (in the case of Karl) gone mad). Oh, and there was a break-in at the Merchants' Guild just before all this started, but that's undoubtedly completely unrelated to everything else, correlation not equalling causation, and all that... Louve only really mentioned it on the off-chance that it might be helpful for me to learn that all these incidents of which I was unaware happened just after something else about which I knew nothing, even though they're surely not linked in any way...
The following morning I decide to do something about these peculiar happenings, since my skill in getting a good bargain is obviously just what's needed to sort out whatever menace proved more than a match for a group of twelve men. To start, I decide to see if the landlord at the Frantic Rat has heard any useful gossip. Or would like me to tell him about the profit I turned on a cask of Cragrock Cider. The tavern is pretty quiet at this early hour, and I'm surprised and a little concerned to find the text asking if I've gone looking for a blacksmith yet. I don't remember anything worthwhile having come from blacksmith-seeking on my previous attempt, so I hope this is a sneaky way of ascertaining whether or not I've actually wasted half the morning.
Barnock the barkeep is an old friend, so I start by asking what he knows about Karl's misadventures. Being such a good pal, he charges me money for the information, which is delivered in a syntax so changeable as to hint at multiple personality disorder. It turns out that the men who found Karl brought him to the pub, where he scared off half the clientele by babbling about the dead. Given the unfortunate man's constant harping about dead people, the local militia have formed the conclusion that Karl and the party he accompanied were attacked by Trolls. So the defenders of law and order in Bandur Green are the equivalent of the racist cretins who post comments on Yahoo! news.
Any other local news worth paying for? Not really, but I have to cough up to find out. Apart from things I've already learned from Louve, and gossip about which I don't care, all Barnock has to tell me is that someone attempted to defile the grave of local war hero Narron the Steady, and whoever perpetrated that break-in that has nothing to do with anything else seems not to have stolen anything.
Maybe the retired locals seated at a nearby table will have something useful to tell me. Nope, apart from reiterating a few things I already know, they just start arguing over minutiae, and I wind up getting hit in the face and losing a point of Luck (blasted sometime later Luck bonus - none of this misfortune would be happening if not for you). Well, visiting the pub has been a strong argument in favour of teetotalism.
Leaving the tavern, I'm presented with a variety of options (including going back into the Rat if I've already tried everything else, which raises questions about the structure of this adventure). Someone has set up a stall on the common, so I go there to see if that's where weapons can be acquired. No, it's a gambling booth run by a gypsy. The author should be commended for going against harmful stereotype, as there's no cheating going on here, but a gambling establishment (even on as small a scale as this one) that doesn't give 'the house' even a marginal advantage is not going to be economically viable. I win back almost as much as I paid out in the pub, and quit while I'm ahead.
Next I try checking out the cemetery. After the obligatory visit to my parents' grave, I am presented with several things to try. The site of the attempted defilement is an obvious choice, but I may be compelled to leave once I've been to it, so I'll try looking at headstones for
Now I head for the crypt mentioned by Barnock, finding that the stone urn at the foot of Narron's bier has been smashed. This is not massively informative in itself, but the crypt has a convenient back door, so I have a nose inside. Which leads to the discovery that this is one of those adventures where you have to visit lots of places but in the right order, as I have not yet had the opportunity to procure either of the items that could be of some use here. This is particularly tiresome as they seem to be all that might provide some protection against the Wight that is lurching towards me.
The subsequent encounter goes about as well as could be expected. By which I mean that the crypt gains a new occupant, who isn't actually a member of the family that owns it. Still, I'm rather too dead to care about any scandal that might ensue.
This attempt at Resurrection has been frustrating in a different way from the previous one, as I can see hints of what may be a decent mystery here - the 'unrelated' break-in, the destruction of the urn, the rift between Narron and Thrawn... But depending on how closely the reader has to stick to the 'correct' route through the adventure, finding out the truth that connects these disparate elements with the undead menace may involve a tedious process of trial and error to figure out the right order in which to visit places. One of the things I like about the Webs of Intrigue gamebooks is that clues generate leads, enabling the reader to make informed decisions about what to try following up next. Being able to infer that you should have gone someplace else first, but only on account of being asked if you've been there yet, or owing to an item check that's the first hint that the object in question is even available, as in this adventure, does not compare.
Oh, and not having the option to at least try and look into the break-in at the Merchants' Guild (or, if it does become possible at some stage, needing to jump through assorted yet-to-be-identified hoops before getting the option) is irritating. Less of an annoyance than arbitrary Luck penalties thrown in just to make the reader feel grateful when the author deigns to provide a crumb of bonus, but still bothersome.
The amount of experience I have of the different Fantazine mini-adventures is variable, to say the least, and I've only had one attempt at more than half of the rest of the run. Some of those attempts were far too brief for me to be able to fairly judge the quality of the mini-adventure in question, but I can say with some confidence that this is not the worst of them. Subsequent blog posts should help me ascertain which of the potential candidates is the worst, so I shan't start ranting about some of the less fun stuff to come just yet.
Wednesday, 17 October 2018
What's In a Name?
This is my 300th post here (though, for various reasons, not my 300th playthrough - that won't be for a while yet), and as my 100th and 200th posts weren't playthroughs, this won't be one either. Instead, I intend to spend a little while waffling on about the titles I give to my posts.
If the topic doesn't interest you, feel free to skip to below the asterisks near the bottom of the post, where I'm seeking input on a completely different matter. As far as I can remember, there's only ever been one comment on the title of a post, so they may be of negligible significance to most readers. Then again, stats have indicated that one of my playthroughs got a lot of additional traffic as a consequence of people googling the proverb I'd quoted in the title, so they do have some effect. And whether or not anyone else cares, they matter enough to me that I take time choosing them (possibly more time than it takes to play and write up some of the more lethal adventures), and some of the things I intend to say here have been cluttering my head for so long, it'll be a relief to finally get them out.
As you may well be aware, the titles are quotations. Mostly. There's the odd paraphrase (some intentional, others on account of the vagaries of memory), and very early on I did once slip into the mindset I had when posting Proteus reviews to a Yahoo! group, coming up with a vaguely pithy phrase of my own devising. Oh well, consistency is for sauces.
Quotations from what? Songs, popular idiom, TV shows, essays, poems, novels, proverbs, plays, computer games, films, historical figures, comics, short stories... Even a gamebook, on one occasion. Every so often I'd arbitrarily come up with a rule restricting the possible sources. Every time I've played a superhero-themed gamebook, the title has come from a comic. Not only do all my attempts at J.H. Brennan's Horror Classics take their titles from the book which inspired the gamebook, but they're quotations from the character I am playing in that specific playthrough. And as I quote Doctor Who so frequently, I made a point of not quoting it when writing up attempts at gamebooks based on the series.
While it might not be obvious in some instances, the title always has something to do with the content of the post. Sometimes the connection is blatant, sometimes there's a bit of lateral thinking involved, and on a good day I find something that works on more than one level. Here, for instance, the title obviously relates to my failure to avenge my fellow slaves, but the name of the song from which I took it (Johnny Cash's Hurt) is also relevant, as my character's death was caused by a Gauntlet of Pain. (And yes, I am aware that the song was a cover version, so NIN fans needn't feel obligated to correct me).
When I pick a title varies. Sometimes I have it in mind from the outset (which doesn't always work out: I didn't get anywhere near far enough through Creature of Havoc for my planned title to be relevant, so I found an alternative, and am saving the original idea for a more successful attempt). On other occasions I've wound up with a completed write-up that lacks a title, and had to delay posting it until I could find something apposite. Once I even forgot I had no title, and had to edit one in after posting. If you are able to correctly identify the post in question, you should probably find a more productive use of your time.
There has, to my memory, only been one title directly influenced by current events in the real world, and even that wasn't planned as such. After the death of David Bowie, I decided to listen to one of his albums as a tribute, and one of the lyrics I heard while doing so struck me as being as appropriate to the playthrough in progress as the title I had selected, so I changed to that one.
Incidentally, while most of the song lines used as titles can be found on albums that I own, there are a few that just lodged in my head on account of having been near-ubiquitous on radio at some point, and one or two others that I dug up online because some other factor had led me to believe that the singer might have come out with something vaguely fitting at some point. Any artist who's been quoted in more than one title is definitely represented in my music collection, but there are still a few groups who have a significant presence on my shelves, yet have not so far had their output mined for this blog. Their time will come. Probably.
I'm not sure that anything much has come of these reflections. Still, now I've raised the issue, if anybody wants to know the source of some particularly obscure quotation, or precisely how one of the more cryptic ones relates to the post to which it is attached, you're welcome to ask. And this post has been easy enough to write that it shouldn't hold up the next proper attempt at a gamebook.
Talking of which, the subject of my next playthrough will be the mini-adventure from issue 1 of Fighting Fantazine. Now, some readers may be aware that I am the author of one of the Fantazine mini-adventures, so there is a question regarding what I should do with my own handiwork. Several options suggest themselves:
If the topic doesn't interest you, feel free to skip to below the asterisks near the bottom of the post, where I'm seeking input on a completely different matter. As far as I can remember, there's only ever been one comment on the title of a post, so they may be of negligible significance to most readers. Then again, stats have indicated that one of my playthroughs got a lot of additional traffic as a consequence of people googling the proverb I'd quoted in the title, so they do have some effect. And whether or not anyone else cares, they matter enough to me that I take time choosing them (possibly more time than it takes to play and write up some of the more lethal adventures), and some of the things I intend to say here have been cluttering my head for so long, it'll be a relief to finally get them out.
As you may well be aware, the titles are quotations. Mostly. There's the odd paraphrase (some intentional, others on account of the vagaries of memory), and very early on I did once slip into the mindset I had when posting Proteus reviews to a Yahoo! group, coming up with a vaguely pithy phrase of my own devising. Oh well, consistency is for sauces.
Quotations from what? Songs, popular idiom, TV shows, essays, poems, novels, proverbs, plays, computer games, films, historical figures, comics, short stories... Even a gamebook, on one occasion. Every so often I'd arbitrarily come up with a rule restricting the possible sources. Every time I've played a superhero-themed gamebook, the title has come from a comic. Not only do all my attempts at J.H. Brennan's Horror Classics take their titles from the book which inspired the gamebook, but they're quotations from the character I am playing in that specific playthrough. And as I quote Doctor Who so frequently, I made a point of not quoting it when writing up attempts at gamebooks based on the series.
While it might not be obvious in some instances, the title always has something to do with the content of the post. Sometimes the connection is blatant, sometimes there's a bit of lateral thinking involved, and on a good day I find something that works on more than one level. Here, for instance, the title obviously relates to my failure to avenge my fellow slaves, but the name of the song from which I took it (Johnny Cash's Hurt) is also relevant, as my character's death was caused by a Gauntlet of Pain. (And yes, I am aware that the song was a cover version, so NIN fans needn't feel obligated to correct me).
When I pick a title varies. Sometimes I have it in mind from the outset (which doesn't always work out: I didn't get anywhere near far enough through Creature of Havoc for my planned title to be relevant, so I found an alternative, and am saving the original idea for a more successful attempt). On other occasions I've wound up with a completed write-up that lacks a title, and had to delay posting it until I could find something apposite. Once I even forgot I had no title, and had to edit one in after posting. If you are able to correctly identify the post in question, you should probably find a more productive use of your time.
There has, to my memory, only been one title directly influenced by current events in the real world, and even that wasn't planned as such. After the death of David Bowie, I decided to listen to one of his albums as a tribute, and one of the lyrics I heard while doing so struck me as being as appropriate to the playthrough in progress as the title I had selected, so I changed to that one.
Incidentally, while most of the song lines used as titles can be found on albums that I own, there are a few that just lodged in my head on account of having been near-ubiquitous on radio at some point, and one or two others that I dug up online because some other factor had led me to believe that the singer might have come out with something vaguely fitting at some point. Any artist who's been quoted in more than one title is definitely represented in my music collection, but there are still a few groups who have a significant presence on my shelves, yet have not so far had their output mined for this blog. Their time will come. Probably.
I'm not sure that anything much has come of these reflections. Still, now I've raised the issue, if anybody wants to know the source of some particularly obscure quotation, or precisely how one of the more cryptic ones relates to the post to which it is attached, you're welcome to ask. And this post has been easy enough to write that it shouldn't hold up the next proper attempt at a gamebook.
* * *
Talking of which, the subject of my next playthrough will be the mini-adventure from issue 1 of Fighting Fantazine. Now, some readers may be aware that I am the author of one of the Fantazine mini-adventures, so there is a question regarding what I should do with my own handiwork. Several options suggest themselves:
- Just play it like any other gamebook. I've played gamebooks I know very well before, and the fact that my familiarity with this one comes in part from having created it shouldn't matter.
- Play it like any other gamebook, but add an 'author's commentary' explaining inspirations and other points of possible interest.
- Get a guest writer to play it.
- Use a guest writer for the playthrough and add my own author's commentary as in option 2.
If you have any opinion on the matter, or alternative options to add, or favour option 3 or 4 and wish to volunteer to be a guest writer, please comment here to let me know.
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