Saturday, 22 April 2023

In Our Violent and Uncertain World

Mine of Torments, the third book in David Tant's The Legends of Skyfall, is the only one in the series that I never owned in my teens. I could have done: a classmate at school even lent me a copy he'd already won, hoping to sufficiently engage my interest that I'd buy it from him, but it failed to grab me at the time, and when I did buy some of the books years later, the market stall from which I purchased them didn't have any copies of Mine, just the first two and the fourth. My memories of having borrowed and not got on with the book I lacked left me with scant motivation to complete the set, and the ones I did have were among those I sold to second-hand shops during my gamebook purge of the early 1990s. Nowadays, like pretty much everyone else I've seen express an opinion on the Skyfall books, I consider Mine to be the best in the series. 

When I ran it for a group at rpg.net, they failed at it fewer times than any other in the series, and yet it is the one that I am least confident about winning here. The thing is, the vast majority of times that the rpg.net crowd failed a Skyfall book, it was on account of making the wrong decision. Sometimes what got them killed was an actual bad idea that they hadn't thought through, sometimes it was what appeared to be a reasonable course of action, but which turned out to end badly because the author said so. And it's easy to avoid making poor choices if you know that they're not the smart thing to do (in gamebooks, at least - history is littered with examples showing that people often find that harder in real life), so I need not worry about falling victim to most of the things that doomed the players at rpg.net.

However, of the three times that the rpg.net group met with a sticky end in Mine, two were on account of the toughness of the final fight. (The other was more normal for them: they ignored the advice of a character who knew better than they did, and demolished a wall that was keeping a subterranean river from flooding the part of the mine they were in.) There is a way to make that climactic battle less of a challenge, but that involves getting into a nasty fight right at the start of the adventure, so whichever route I choose, there will come a point at which success or failure depends on the fall of the coins (Skyfall favouring the flip of coins over the roll of dice).

Well, that's enough about my past with the book: it's time I got going with a fresh attempt at it. As at the start of the second book, there's no sign of any of the loot I acquired in earlier adventures, and my stats have reverted to the baseline, with only Fortune being randomised. On this occasion I start with 13 points, the highest possible starting score, so I'm going to try the variant with the tricky fight at the start.

The adventure starts with a visit to my uncle Velic. He works as a miner, and things have recently become... interesting for him and his colleagues. The silver mine where he works is all but worked out, but the local mining industry has potentially been saved by the discovery of a long-lost mine rich in the precious metal Mithral. However, the miners have started running into difficulties, and not with the Tolkien estate's lawyers.

For starters, work on a bridge to enable ore-wagons to cross the Pola River has been halted, as felled trees have vanished overnight, or regrown lopped-off branches, and a couple of lumberjacks are missing, presumed not okay. Then there's the valley near the mine which has become a focal point for extreme weather, flash-floods, and avalanches. And the mine itself appears to be haunted, with at least one fatality caused by whatever is in there, so this is more serious than just old man Withers in a rubber mask. But I'm no bunch of meddling kids, so maybe I can deal with the forces responsible anyway.

Uncle Velic provides me with a mule, camping equipment, and food for three days (and I had two days' worth of supplies already), and I set off through the mountains towards the mine. After a while the mule and I reach a fast-flowing stream, in which the remnants of a stone bridge serve as stepping stones.

In the interests of fairness, I should mention the unnecessary section transition that precedes my attempt at crossing the stream: having repeatedly complained about the excess of such things in an adventure I played last year, I shouldn't gloss over the fact that this book also has quite a bit of section number padding. Still, a quick comparison of what's in my gamebook manager shows that getting less than half way through Starhunt: Void Slavers took in almost as many decision-free sections as did the whole of the rpg.net crew's successful attempt at Mines, though the latter adventure is almost twice as long. If this book suffers a little from section bloat, the Fantazine adventure is morbidly obese.

An element of randomisation determines whether or not I cross the stream without stumbling, but I may use Fortune to improve the result, and spend a point to ensure success. While falling into the water would not be a game-ender, the consequences would be likely to put me at a disadvantage in the coming fight and end up costing me a lot more Fortune in the long run.

So, we reach the other side, and I decide to take a break and build a fire in the mouth of a nearby cave. I could light a torch and investigate the cave first, but I think that might have regrettable consequences for the mule, so I get a proper campfire going. I've barely started to warm myself before sounds of distress from the mule attract my attention. Descending the mountain is a creature I initially take for a bear, until its gait and posture lead me to the conclusion that this is actually a Yeti.

I don't think this fight is avoidable (except by taking a completely different route through the book), so I draw my sword, not wanting to waste time or my mule. It's not going to be an easy combat, though: not only is the Yeti's Expertise identical to mine, but it also possesses a terrifying gaze, and whenever it wins a round of battle, I must spend a Fortune point or become paralysed with fear.

Luck is on my side. The Yeti wounds me twice, but I manage to kill it. At the cost of half my Fortune, since I increased damage when I won rounds as well as negating the effect of the gaze when I lost them - ending a fight like this as quickly as possible seems the wisest course of action. In any case, I gain a couple of points for my victory.

The mule is still terrified, so I need to get the Yeti's corpse out of its sight. There's a minor error in the book here, the text assuming that I chose not to check out the cave because I got wet and needed to dry my clothes. Not that that makes any difference to the choice I must now make. Hiding the Yeti in the cave would require me to drag it past the mule, and searching the cave would mean leaving the mule alone with the body, either of which could cause the poor beast to bolt, so I think I'll stable the mule in the cave while I drag the Yeti a decent distance away.

That was the right decision. The mule calms down, and I can eat my day's meal, thereby restoring the Vitality I lost in the fight. Then we resume our journey, heading towards a valley through which a glacier passes. We cover some more distance before I make camp for the night, and it's good that I ate when I did: if I'd waited until now, the Vitality restoration would have been diminished owing to the cold and damp conditions.

In the morning we head onwards, and the route forks. I head towards a pine forest, and the mule gets spooked again. This time I disregard its fears, and it tries to flee. A contest of strength ensues, and I narrowly prevail. However, it becomes apparent that I'm not going to be able to drag the mule through the entire forest, so I tether it to a tree and proceed alone.

The forest is unusually quiet. Eventually I emerge from it on the shore of a lake. Tall cliffs surround the lake on three sides, but I can see a narrow defile on the far side. Not far from where I stand are the remains of a log hut, so I take a look inside there. It's been damaged by fire, and the door hangs from one hinge. I haven't attempted to swim across the lake, so I don't have to light the brazier that lies near the fire damage, but I don't want to convert the door into a raft or turn back, so getting another blaze going and settling down for the night is the only option.

While straightening the place up a bit, I catch sight of a length of metal in amongst the cinders. Taking a closer look, I find it to be an iron mace, with 'F.E.D.U.S.A.R.' engraved on the title. As far as I know, no explanation of this weapon's origins is to be found in the book. Was there ever a time in the history of Skyfall when parcel deliveries became one of the responsibilities of the armed forces back on Earth? If so, this may once have been the property of the Federal Express Division of the United States Armed Reserves.

Regardless, I decide to keep the mace in spite of warnings about possible encumbrance penalties, and then get ready for bed. Before long I doze off, but it's still dark when I suddenly awaken. Something is happening on the shore of the lake, and a hideous bubbling laugh alerts me to the approach of something monstrous. And this is one instance where a non-essential section transition is used to good effect: the delay caused by having to turn to a new page helps build tension about the unknown threat.

A vaguely humanoid apparition that appears to be composed entirely of water sloshes towards the hut, arms outstretched as if to embrace me. Arming myself with the mace, I get ready to fight. With the mace, I have a decent lead in Expertise and do double damage, which is a good thing, as the Phantom gets two attacks to my one, and can cause some serious unpleasantness if it ever beats me with both. 

As it turns out, I only sustain one blow from a watery fist before reducing my fluid foe to a powerless puddle. My win gives me a decent Fortune bonus and enhances my Expertise, but I'll be getting no more rest tonight, as the expiring Phantom wet the bed. Still, I have no reason to loiter here any more, and as I'm pretty sure that crossing the lake will only bring unnecessary complications, I head back the way I came. The mule is where I left it, but died overnight. I take some of the food that it was carrying, and proceed along the other branch of the track.

After a few miles I find myself on a narrow ledge connecting two valleys. To my right a snow-covered slope leads down to a sheer drop. Carefully moving along the ledge, I get about half way before catching sight of something moving up the slope towards me. This time it is a bear, and it's coming at me too quickly for me to be able to get off the ledge before it catches up. I could try something tricky, but I think I'll just draw a weapon and fight - and I don't think the mace would be a good choice here.

Thanks to the Expertise boost I got after fighting the Phantom, the bear has only a 1 in 256 chance of hitting me in any given round, and not much better odds of even getting a tie. I win the fight with ease, and receive another Fortune bonus. Continuing along the ledge, I reach the other valley, but by now dusk is approaching, and I had to leave most of my camping supplies with the mule, so I gain no Vitality from the day's meal, and have a pretty miserable night.

The following day I resume my travels, eventually reaching a trail that shows signs of recent traffic. The sight of smoke helps me find my way to the mining settlement, where I have no trouble finding lodgings for the night, replacements for everything I lost, and an audience for my tales of the perils I faced on the way here. Oddly, there are no Dwarves present in the mining community, just humans. They tell me more about what has been happening locally, via a chain of decision-free sections.

All ghost sightings took place in the part of the mine where the Mithral deposits are, and the manifestations were always glowing transparent figures. As for 'Hostile Valley', the disturbances occurring there only seem to affect people travelling west through it.

After a decent night's rest, I must choose where to commence my investigations, and I head for the valley, because this is where it all gets a bit counter-intuitive. The thing is, while the mace vastly improves my chances of winning the final fight (and that Expertise bonus will also help), and I couldn't have got it unless I chose to travel via the mountains right at the start of the adventure, the only way I can survive the climax of the book (and my best chance of living long enough to reach the last battle) is to deal with the bridge-builders' troubles first, so I now have to travel west to the River Pola.

Initially the journey is uneventful, but after a few miles I come across signs of an abandoned attempt at road construction, and realise that I must be approaching the valley where the trouble is. As my more observant readers may have spotted, I am travelling in the direction that tends to provoke the manifestations, and as I'm not yet equipped to deal with their source, I need to avoid going through the actual valley, so I now have to do more climbing. Which means leaving my replacement mule tied up at the eastern end of the valley. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered getting one.

As with crossing the stream back at the start of this adventure, a random factor helps determine how well I do, and Fortune may be spent to avert an undesirable (and in this instance lethal) outcome. On this occasion I get a good enough result not to need to modify my score.

At the top of the cliff I find a plateau, too criss-crossed by fissures to be usable as part of a trade route instead of the valley, but I can traverse it on foot, and reach the other end of the valley without any bother. For a while I watch from above to see if anything strange happens in the valley, but after a couple of hours of watching a calm and picturesque valley, I'm bored enough to be wishing for some kind of monster to attack. Staying up here until nightfall would be inadvisable, so I climb down at the west end. Again randomness influences the outcome of the climb, and again I have no need to spend Fortune to avoid a broken neck.

Having successfully bypassed the valley, I press on in the direction of the Pola. There's still some way to go, but at about the half-way point I find a quarry owned by an elderly Dwarf. When I tell him of my quest, he warns me against disturbing the evil forces that lurk in the mine. That's a potential wrinkle I hadn't anticipated: encountering this Dwarf after successfully resolving the issues with bridge construction results in his giving me an item that simplifies dealing with one of the threats in the mine, but on this route I get no plot token from him. Still, he does also offer a meal and a bed for the night, and since my replacement mule is still at the other end of the valley, his offer is very welcome.

In the morning I resume my travels, and by dusk I've reached the site of the planned bridge. It appears to be an ideal location: the river narrows here, and a small island in the middle could provide added support for the structure. On the far bank there's a camp for the people who would be working on the bridge if not for the peculiar goings-on that have brought construction to a halt.

I call out and get someone to ferry me across, after which I get directions to the chief engineer's tent. The overseer has obviously been hitting the bottle, and appears unconvinced when I explain that I've come to deal with the unexplained shenanigans, but nevertheless explains what's been going on in more detail (and in another chain of decision-free sections).

The trouble started on the night after tree-felling started. All the trees that had been cut down and dragged to the bridge site disappeared - or possibly stood up and took root: many workmen are sure the area by the river wasn't as heavily forested the day before. On the following day, work concentrated on felling large trees and building them into the central framework of the bridge. Guards were posted to keep watch on the structure overnight, but a massive flock of bats knocked over the lanterns, causing them to go out, and by the time illumination was restored, the trees had disappeared.

On the next day, tree-felling was interrupted by the death of one of the workers. After that none of them worked unaccompanied, which just meant that there were two victims in the next incident. Most lumberjacks subsequently opted to seek more normal and less hazardous employment elsewhere, so work has virtually halted, though reinforcement of the ground at the river's edge with stone from a nearby quarry has been allowed to proceed without interruption.

I suggest that, since someone or something seems to want the trees left alone, a stone bridge might be a simple solution. The somewhat exasperated chief engineer points out that a timber framework would still be necessary to hold the stones in place during construction, and I decide not to bother him any more. Joining the other workers, I have my day's meal and turn in for the night.

The next day I decide to have a look in the Fellwood, hoping that since I don't plan on cutting any trees down, I won't be harmed. It seems like a nice place in which to take a walk, and I reflect that it wouldn't be so picturesque if the felling were taking place as planned. Animals seem scarce, though, but I do start glimpsing squirrels and rabbits after about ten miles. I have the option of trying to trap a rabbit in order to supplement my rations, but I remember enough from partially playing this book back in the 1980s (and then running it online around a decade ago) to know that that would be a very bad idea.

My decision not to kill any of the cute ickle bunny-wunnies prompts reflections on the deaths that have occurred, and I briefly contemplate the possibility that bandits could be responsible, concluding that lumberjacks aren't likely to be particularly profitable targets. Heading deeper into the forest, I am beginning to think that it's about time to take a rest when I hear a wolf howling, but in distress.

Investigating the sounds, I find that the wolf in question is trapped in a rather peculiar manner. The soil beneath one particularly old-looking tree must have receded quite drastically, as a fairly substantial length of the roots supporting it is above ground level, forming a sort of natural cage, and a large Timberwolf is confined within it.

Now I have to try and free the wolf, which whimpers and holds up a paw as I approach. Not having any woodworking tools on me (and being aware that the shedding of sap tends to have unpleasant consequences around here), all I can do is attempt to force a couple of the roots far enough apart to make a gap big enough to enable the wolf to get out.

There's a mildly amusing opportunity to get myself into a loop of sections here: if I decide that I don't want to risk being attacked by this vicious wild animal, I wind up wondering if I really intend to abandon the poor, helpless beast to its cruel imprisonment, and choosing not to be so mean to it leads straight back to the question of whether or not it's safe to make myself vulnerable to the savage brute. It's not an inescapable loop, as I always have the option of sticking with whichever course of action I was favouring, and either walking away or letting the wolf out, but someone like The Fast Show's indecisive Dave could end up going round in circles forever.

Since I want to make progress (and not fail at the book) I go with releasing the wolf. Anticipating a titanic struggle to wrest the roots apart, I am pleasantly surprised to find that they offer no resistance, and I easily create a suitably-sized opening. The wolf springs out of its confinement, and cheerily turns its attention to something behind me. Something, or rather someone, who congratulates me on my action.

Turning, I see a grey-haired woman with a hawk on one shoulder. The wolf lopes over to her for a scritch, and she tells me that I have been under observation since I entered the forest. As I have shown myself to be more eco-friendly than the workers at the bridge site, the woman wants to know why I associate with them, and what I want. I explain that a bridge is required, diplomatically keeping quiet about the need for wood in the building process (and entering into another chain of choice-free expository sections).

The woman tells me that she is the Warden of the forest (thereby indicating herself to be a powerful Druidess), and that her primary concern is for the well-being of all its inhabitants. All killing has been banned, and transgression of this law merits the death penalty, hence the fate of the deceased lumberjacks. I ask what the wolves eat if they can't prey on smaller animals, and the Warden smugly informs me that she feeds them with a nut-and-cereal-based porridge that they prefer to meat. The wolf's reaction discreetly conveys the message 'actually, we'd love to get our jaws into something bloody, but as long as this mad old bat's in charge, we're stuck with the vegan option'.

While the Warden is unwilling to have the peace of the forest disrupted, she has no objection to the establishment of the planned trade route along the riverside, and asks why the bridge can't be made out of stone. Resisting the temptation to smirk at her cluelessness, I explain the need for a wooden framework, and she indicates that a mutually beneficial arrangement could be reached, so long as I'm willing to help her out with something, and the bridge-workers leave the forest and her woodland chums alone from now on.

Accepting her terms (in part because she has threatened to destroy the whole camp if any more of her charges are harmed), I enquire as to the nature of the assistance she requires. She explains that there's one denizen of the forest which resists her authority: an intelligent and predatory strain of ivy that enjoys killing flora and fauna alike, and has its brain situated deep enough underground that she can't do any serious harm to it without causing an unacceptable degree of collateral damage. Now the Killer Ivy has targeted Father Oak, the most venerable tree of the entire forest, and it must be stopped.

I ask what she expects me to be able to do against the Ivy. The Warden reveals that she has been harvesting and refining venom from the forest's serpents to create the ultimate weedkiller. All I have to do is find a way to administer the toxin (without, of course, harming any innocent plants at the same time). Not having any real choice in the matter, I agree to try, and the Warden takes me a few miles further through the forest, to a clearing containing an ancient oak tree, wreathed in ivy and obviously in poor health.

The Warden hands me a metal flask containing her noxious brew, and says that I just need to get one of the ivy's feeding tendrils into it, and make sure that it stays there for long enough. She also warns me that the ivy is smart enough to defend itself, so I'll need to be careful. Not the most promising of situations, and as I head into the clearing, I am uncomfortably aware that I'm being watched by enough woodland creatures to provide a full cast (including chorus, extras and stand-ins) for a major Broadway musical based on the works of Beatrix Potter.

Getting closer to the oak, I become aware that it's not going to be easy to identify a feeding tendril amidst the mass of creepers festooning the tree. The ivy isn't so thick higher up, but climbing a mass of devious and hostile foliage to get there has obvious drawbacks.

By now it's early afternoon. I decide to take a break and have some lunch (hoping I didn't bring any ham sandwiches, in case that triggers the Warden) while I think over the problem. This is, as it turns out, the only workable solution to my dilemma. The ivy responds to vibrations and, having sensed that a living organism has entered the clearing and then stopped there, it wants to know if I taste good. A length of ivy detaches itself from the tree and slithers in my direction, so I unstopper the flask and position its mouth in the path of the questing frond, which probes its way inside. So far, so good...

It doesn't take long for the tendril to realise that it is now immersed in something harmful, and it attempts to pull out. I grab onto it, trying to keep it inside, and further creepers detach themselves from the tree and flail at me, inflicting damage. I'm too busy wrestling with the feeder to defend myself, and a coin flip (which I can, if necessary, modify with Fortune) determines whether or not I am able to keep the tendril trapped until it has absorbed a lethal dose of the herbicidal mix. I score just enough not to need to spend Fortune, and Ivy the Terrible is vanquished.

The Warden congratulates me, accompanied by assorted bears, foxes, deer, rabbits and other denizens of the forest, and presents me with a gift: a Horn of Voices, which should be of more use to me than to her, as she can communicate with the plants and animals in her domain without it. She then explains that no trees need to die for the sake of the bridge-building, as she can get some of the ones growing closest to the site to create a living framework across the river for as long as it takes to construct a stone bridge.

We head for the camp, with a train of animals following, and while this initially causes some agitation, an agreement is reached without any further unpleasantness. An evening meal with the workers restores what Vitality I lost to the Ivy, and in the morning I decide to move on. There's actually an error in the gamebook here: while there's no way of resolving the problems in the mine and living unless you have the Horn, the section has an 'If you've already dealt with what's up in the mine and the valley' option, and since it leads to the 'successful outcome' section, it can't be a trick to catch out cheats.

Incidentally, this book does contain one of the most stylish responses to cheating I've ever seen in a gamebook. Particularly belligerent players can get into a fight against an opponent with an Expertise significantly higher than the maximum attainable by a player, and a massive Vitality score as well. Flight is always an option, so it would take a particularly stubborn and unwise player to stay in the fight - with (at best) a 1 in 256 chance of winning any round of combat, 245/256 odds of losing each round, and the need to win at least 20 rounds to defeat this creature, the chances of killing it are infinitesimally tiny. Claim to have won the fight anyway, and the book says words to the effect of 'Well, anyone lucky enough to triumph in a battle like that clearly doesn't need a Fortune bonus, so you gain nothing for your highly implausible victory'. I wish Mr Tant's sense of humour had come into play a bit more often over the course of the series.

But I digress. It's time to head back the way I came. Again I get ferried across the river, as the bridge hasn't yet been built, and by midday I'm back at the Dwarf's quarry. As it turns out, my already having been here once makes no difference - we still end up talking about my mission, but now the Horn of Voices has come into my possession, and while I could choose to make this adventure more difficult for myself by not mentioning it, that would be silly. Besides, this is probably the quarry that supplied the stone for the reinforcement of the river bank, so the Dwarf is likely to know something of the weirdness that's been going on at the site, and being able to say, "Take a look at this neat magical item I got as a reward for ending the paranormal troubles at Fellwood," could be enough to convince him that I'm up to the task of overcoming the evil that infests the mines.

Anyway, I show the Dwarf my new treasure, and he realises that I might have what it takes, so he excuses himself for a moment, and returns with an ancient bronze urn. He then tells me what he knows about the mine, and I'm in another chain of expository sections.

Over a century ago, back when the mine was a going concern, an unknown disaster occurred. One day, the miners just failed to emerge at the end of their shift. An investigation revealed no bodies, just signs of an abrupt interruption to the work, and a couple of places where the rock appeared to have turned to liquid. Other miners resumed the work, but then ghosts started appearing, and more Dwarves vanished. The four who remained decided to seek the assistance of a Cleric, but their route took them through that valley.

While the valley already had a reputation for strange happenings, the mysterious occurrences had previously been trivial in nature: persistent gusts of wind sending hats and the occasional heavier item flying, unusually large waves in the stream splashing passers-by, small fires appearing for no apparent reason, and rocks rolling around without having been disturbed. However, it was at this time that the phenomena in the valley turned nasty, and two of the Dwarves died there. The others managed to retreat to safety, and opted to circumvent the valley by climbing the cliff. Not being good climbers, they fared less well than I did when doing the same a few days ago: one fell to his death, while the other got off comparatively lightly with a broken leg.

Somehow the survivor made it to Wolvenford and told of what had happened. The Clerics there explained that Dwarven ghosts only manifest when the body that the spirit formerly inhabited does not lie at rest, and provided the last of the miners with the Urn of Mungo (evidently the patron saint of doomed gamebook characters), a holy vessel that can attract undead spirits and lay them to rest. Less helpfully, they also stated that their beliefs did not permit them to do battle with the very elements, so none of them would go anywhere near the valley, leaving the lone miner to find his own way back to the mine.

Never having learned that the hostile manifestations only affected people travelling west, the surviving miner was too afraid to head back through the valley, and his injured leg ruled out further climbing, so he never managed to get back to the mine. Instead, it seems, he opened a quarry, and managed to do good enough business to sustain himself until the present day. And now, in me, he's found someone sufficiently heroic, adept, and/or stupid to finish the job for him.

Bizarrely, I now have the option to return to the bridge-building site, even though the only way to get the urn and the Dwarf's info-dump is by showing him the item I received for sorting out what was going on there. Perhaps there was a time when a greater variety of viable routes through the book was planned - it could be that originally the Dwarf could have been convinced to hand over the urn and tell his tale if I had the mace, too - and some traces of the original design remained after the book got changed to make 'Fellwood first' the only viable approach.

There's no point in turning back and having to redo what I've already achieved, so I continue on my way back to the mine. By mid-afternoon I'm back at the valley, and this time there's no need to climb, as I'm heading east. Besides which, it's better (at least from a narrative viewpoint, and possibly also as regards life expectancy) to discover what's afoot here before I enter the mine, so I enter the valley.

Passing through it, I can see that it would make a good route for a wagon trail, if some boulders were shifted. And if the potentially lethal paranormal occurrences of which I've heard were to cease. Owing to my direction of travel, it comes as no great surprise that I reach the mid-way point of the valley without incident. But now I need to encounter a bit of the local weirdness, so I turn around and start going back west.

The first vaguely untoward thing to happen is that I get a second description of the stretch along which I've already travelled. The wording is a little different: these books tend to avoid blatant repetition when verbally depicting the same area from different perspectives, but the essential meaning is the same. More significantly, I start to feel uneasy, the place gets darker, and a cold wind blows towards me. Under most circumstances this would all be a bit ominous, but right now it's a promising sign.

As I continue west, it starts to rain, the stream gets agitated, and stones fall, one of them caught by the wind and sent towards my head, though I dodge it. Undaunted, I press on, and the sky darkens further, the wind gains in intensity, and the atmosphere becomes downright menacing. And then things change from 'typical British Bank Holiday weather' to 'undeniably peculiar'. Ahead of me, a whirlwind takes shape. To my right, the stream's waters have surged up into a big wave that just hangs there in defiance of gravity, and on the left, the rocks at the foot of the cliff are moving and coalescing into humanoid form.

Most readers will probably have figured out that I've encountered a group of Elementals, and some may be anticipating the revelation of some fiery manifestation behind me to make up the quartet, but there are only the three. Now that the Elementals have made themselves known to me, there's no reason to keep going west, and trying to attack them would not be smart (the book mentions that most of the legends of people who tried to do anything with Elementals end with the spectacular death of the human concerned), so it's time to try and establish communication.

Rejecting the 'English tourist abroad' options of speaking slowly and loudly or resorting to mime, I take out the Horn, and the whirlwind visibly reacts. Placing the Horn to my ear, I hear a whistling voice, which introduces the speaker as Ianto the Air Elemental and announces that he has a task for me. A polite request would have been nice, but I guess not blowing me into the water and dropping boulders on me is about as polite as they get.

Some discussion elicits an explanation. These three travelled here with a Fire Elemental named Magarth, planning on just vacationing in the valley for a couple of weeks. However, Magarth somehow got captured by a couple of demonic entities known as Vretch, which trapped him in a Mithral globe and proceeded to torture him by dripping water into his prison. Since the Elementals can only travel as a group, the other three are also trapped on Skyfall until Magarth is set free. Despite their great powers, there's nothing the Elementals can do to help him by themselves: Shurfa the Water Elemental can't travel across dry land, Rhum the Earth Elemental finds his way blocked by the veins of metallic ore in the mines, and Ianto lacks the physical form required to dismantle the mechanism containing Magarth. Consequently, they require the assistance of a mortal with fingers, and have been working to discourage travellers in the valley from heading away from the mine, in the hope that sooner or later somebody will go into the mine, kill the Vretch, and release Magarth.

Looks like I have to be that somebody. The Elementals (well, Ianto) will provide what help they can, though. In addition to providing rough directions to where the Vretch are holding Magarth captive, Ianto can protect me from the Vretch's breath, which could melt rock.

Turning around, I head east, and can presumably collect my second mule from where I left it, providing it hasn't died or been stolen while I was away. Being a mule on Skyfall can't be much fun. In any case, with mule or without, I proceed back to the mine, arriving towards evening. There's no 'if you have been here before' option, so I have to go through all the exposition again. Once I am again able to make a decision, on the following morning, I choose to investigate the mine.

It would be helpful to have a guide, so I ask if anybody is willing to accompany me. The miners suddenly remember urgent chores that must take precedence over assisting the adventurer who's come to help them, and the offer of payment does nothing to change anyone's mind. I then reveal that I have obtained the use of a spirit urn that should deal with the spooks, and that suffices to persuade one of the miners to assist me. Slightly oddly, for this outcome the book merely required me to explain my plan for dealing with the Spectres, without checking to see what that plan was or what useful items I might have to facilitate it, so the miner would have been just as convinced if I'd said I was going to stab the ghosts with my sword, or sing a medley of Ray Parker Junior's greatest hits at them.

My guide is a young man named Jem, who knows the mines well, but isn't that smart in other regards. Well, he'd have to be a bit dim to have his fears overcome by the mere fact of my having a plan, no matter how ludicrous that plan might be. He collects some food and a mattock, and we set off.

As we enter the mine, Jem explains that much of the work which has been done so far has been enlarging tunnels, since they were originally dug for Dwarves, not humans. Many of the old tunnels appear unprofitable, and have been left alone, so nothing has been done to reinforce the pit props, and there is some risk that they might collapse. Well, that's some danger that I've avoided by not blundering in on my own.

Jem goes on to tell me that the main passage leads to an apparently bottomless chasm, which gets used for dumping rubble. He's not willing to go that far, as one of the miners thinks that it leads to the Underworld, and the vengeful spirits of the dead have started attacking miners because they don't like having rocks dropped on them. I refrain from commenting on the plausibility of this theory.

Further in, we pass an area that has a stream running through it, and Jem tells of the likelihood that some Dwarves were drowned when the mine workings first intercepted its flow. There are metal doors in parts of the mine to guard against flooding.

Eventually we reach a side turning that leads to the main vein of Mithral. Jem wants to go that way because the alternative is to continue to that chasm, and I also want to go where the Mithral is, because Ianto told me that that's where the Vretch are holding Magarth. We head that way, passing the wall where the rpg.net players made their one fatal error during this book, and I ignore it.

At last we reach the main site of the excavations, and a scattering of abandoned mining equipment on the ground suggests that the miners fled from this area in a hurry. A spectral Dwarf miner drifts out of one of the galleries and heads towards us, so I produce the Urn and invoke Mungo's name. The ghost is instantly sucked inside, and I gain a Fortune bonus.

In the course of further exploring the area I encounter and similarly deal with several more Spectres, and at the end of one of the galleries I see the last remaining ghosts pointing at one of the walls and beckoning to me. I add them to the urn, and then fetch a pick and shovel from the items left lying around, to see what is behind the wall indicated by the restless spirits.

It doesn't take me long to break through, and based on some of what the Elementals told me, it's easy to infer from the state of the rock on the other side that the Vretch used their breath to melt the stone and sculpt this wall from it in order to conceal their home. And their morbid handiwork: standing around a pit in the centre of the chamber beyond are a multitude of Dwarven skeletons, all of which appear to have had their feet cut off. The reality is even nastier: the rock floor was melted to ankle depth, the Dwarves were stood in the liquid rock, and then it was allowed to resolidify, trapping them in a position that ensured that their ghosts would haunt the mines once they died.

A whirlwind forms by the entrance to the chamber. Realising that Ianto has manifested to assist me, I use the Horn for a quick recap of battle plans as a golden glow shines from the pit, heralding the arrival of the Vretch. The book suddenly remembers that Jem might still be present, and reveals that if he hadn't already run away, he does so now.

The Vretch exhale incandescent vapours at me, but Ianto blows them aside, causing them to melt the wall. I get out the mace and leap to the attack. This is the fight that caused the rpg.net players to fail the book twice more, but my convoluted route through the adventure now pays off. Thanks to the Expertise bonus I gained by killing the Phantom, I'm as adept a fighter as my opponents, and the mace is able to shatter a Vretch with a single blow, whereas it would take multiple hits with a sword to kill one.

It's almost anticlimactic. In the first round of the fight, I get two heads, and each Vretch only manages one. Thus, with a single swing of the weapon, I annihilate my enemies (the book explicitly states that I can hit both in the same round if my score beats theirs), and the evil at the heart of the mine is no more. Actually, forget 'anticlimactic'. That win rocked.

My victory nets me a superfluous bonus to Expertise and a larger-than-I'm-likely-to-need one to Fortune (these things never carry over to subsequent books, and I've almost finished this one). Ianto urges me to enter the pit and free Magarth, warning me to keep the Horn handy.

Tying my rope to a roof support, I climb down into a large chamber. At the far side, flames and unpleasant vapours emanate from a cleft in the floor, perhaps the means by which the Vretch came here. In the middle of the floor is a pool of water, spanned by a device built from Mithral, which holds a globe of the precious metal suspended in the water. Operating the device, I raise the globe from the water and find a hatch set into one side, secured with a handle. I use the handle to open it, and this is why it is absolutely essential to resolve the situation at Fellwood first: if I hadn't learned what was going on from the Elementals, I would now be immolated by Magarth as he erupts from his prison. Having been forewarned, I use the Horn to inform him that I am his rescuer and Ianto is waiting for him, and the Fire Elemental refrains from incinerating everything in the vicinity, and heads straight for the way out, mildly singeing my rope, but doing no harm apart from that.

I help myself to as much of the Mithral as I can carry, and don't even need to spend Fortune to ensure that the rope holds when I climb back up. The two Elementals are waiting for me at the top, and thank me for my assistance. They tell me that they and their fellow travellers will be returning to the Elemental Plane, and from now on I 'need not fear death from fire, flood, tempest or landslide' (a detail that will be completely forgotten in the next book).

Bizarrely, the book now asks if I still need to deal with the troubles at the bridge-building site, even though the fact that I'm not a charred corpse in the chamber below is proof positive that I already took care of it and was gifted the Horn of Voices. I exit the mine, confirm to the miners that the hauntings are over, Hostile Valley will henceforth be benign, and work on the bridge has already commenced, and am rewarded with fame, fortune, and other stuff equally non-transferable to the final book in the series. Just as the first two books ended with a hint of what would come next, so this one concludes by mentioning my intent to visit the capital city.

And that's Mine of Torments done. It has its flaws, but it's a definite improvement on the previous two (and, for that matter, the following one). Any reader who actually enjoyed all the wandering around with no clear goal in sight and drawing a map to try and keep from getting lost that was such a major element of the earlier books can get a bit of that by entering the mine unaccompanied, while readers who found that aspect tiresome can skip it. There are some challenging encounters, but it's not too difficult, and this almost certainly comes closest of all the Legends of Skyfall books to living up to the author's claim that they are 'structured carefully to reward the thinking player and to penalise the careless'. A pity the conclusion of the series won't build on this improvement, but I shan't go into detail until I'm actually playing that one here, which probably won't be for a long while.

Friday, 31 March 2023

When You Have to Shoot, Shoot

It's high noon time I was concluding my playthrough of Gaetano Abbondanza's western-themed FF mini-adventure Six-Gun Friday, which started here.

I tell Captain Hendricks that the Friday boys are likely to be leaving town by train, and an orderly who has a copy of the timetable handy informs us that the Southern Pacific to Phoenix leaves in just 10 minutes. We make haste to the station, but the train is just pulling away as we arrive. The Captain fires his pistol to get the conductor's attention, and calls to him to stop, but the conductor's actions suggest that one of the Fridays has him at gunpoint and is encouraging him to keep his hands off the brake.

The train is still building up speed, so I decide to attempt a risky manoeuvre, riding my horse alongside it while not yet outpaced, and leaping aboard when the opportunity presents itself. Hendricks attempts to dissuade me, but I have a high Skill, this adventure has no Luck stat, and letting the train go would probably leave this blog post less than ten sentences long, so I'm going to risk the stunt.

Galloping forwards to the engineer's cab could easily lead to my getting shot by whichever of the outlaws is gunning for a rapid departure, so I'll try and find somewhere towards the rear of the train that could provide me with access. Spotting a small platform next to a door on the last car, I attempt to jump onto that, and it turns out that my Stamina is what will determine success or failure. Despite the injuries I sustained earlier, I still have more than twice the minimum score required, and spring onto the platform with ease.

The door is locked. I don't think I can afford to wait for somebody to decide to use it: one of the Fridays might have spotted me riding alongside the train and decide to check whether or not I got left behind, and I'd be an easy target out here. Hammering on the door attracts the attention of a man in black, who demands to see my ticket. I show him my marshall's badge and explain that there are dangerous fugitives on the train and I need to see whatever security detail is aboard, but he still insists that I produce a ticket. Is he really that much of a jobsworth, or could he be in cahoots with the Fridays?

I don't have a ticket, so the only thing getting punched here is the man's face. He manages to land one blow on me before I subdue him, but I win the fight quickly enough to avoid whatever adverse consequences would result from taking too long. He lets me aboard, saying he'll have me arrested in Phoenix, and I again attempt to explain the situation to him. This takes me to the same section that being more patient with him would have, showing the fight to have been unnecessary, but what western doesn't include a gratuitous bout of fisticuffs at some point?

The ticket agent changes his tune when I tell him that the Friday clan is on his train, and he mentions a group of men in the first class compartment that must be them. That's also where the train's security officer is travelling, so notifying him of the situation without getting noticed by the Fridays could be tricky. I advise the ticket agent to arm himself if he can, and start to head forward through the train.

Encountering no trouble on the way to the first class cabin, I pause to use a couple of my first aid kits and bring myself back up to full Stamina. Then I open the door a crack and peer through. The Fridays are in there, as is an armed man who must be the security officer, along with over thirty wealthy-looking passengers and a couple of waiters.

Marching in and trying to arrest the clan is liable to result in my contracting a lethal dose of lead poisoning, and trying to attract the security officer's attention could alert the criminals to my presence, so I wait for a better opportunity to present itself. What ensues strikes me not so much as 'better' as 'not as bad as what would probably have happened if I'd tried anything else'. The ticket man might not have been in league with the Fridays, but it looks as if the security man is, as he leaves the carriage through the far door in response to a nod from Abel, and shortly afterwards, William stands and announces that he and his associates are now perpetrating a hold-up.

I kick open the door and yell at the Fridays to surrender. None too surprisingly, they are reluctant to do so. Zeke is first to try and shoot me, but my trigger finger is faster, and I gun him down. The rest of the clan take cover behind a bench, as do I, and more shots are fired. This attracts the attention of the corrupt security man, who reenters the carriage and asks Abel what's happening. Taking that as proof that he's working with them, I blow him away.

The passengers panic and flee, somehow avoiding casualties. Abel yells at his remaining associates to deal with me, and also heads out of first class. The gunfire stops, and I wait to see what happens next. One of the Fridays dashes across the aisle, but my bullet is faster than he is, and he doesn't make it to cover.

Unfortunately for me, he was acting as a distraction, enabling two of his fellows to move into positions where they can get a shot at me. Unfortunately for them, my Fast Draw ability still gives me the edge, so I get to shoot at them first. And two abysmal rolls mean that I hit neither, though only one of them manages to wound me when they do open fire.

I think it's time to seek some fresh cover. Keeping low, I throw myself across the aisle, and while a couple of shots are fired, they miss. Looking around, I find myself face to face with Jeremiah, and this time Fast Draw does benefit me: I gun him down before he can hit his trigger. Three down, two to go.

One of the surviving outlaws dashes for cover behind a bench. I fire a stray shot to distract him, and it works: by the time Clement realises I'm not where he thinks I am, I have a bead on him, and this time I don't miss. The next bullet fired at me does miss, though, and turning towards the gunman, I see that Abel has returned. He points my location out to the last of his partners in crime, and again ducks out of the carriage.

Following a short and unproductive exchange of bullets, William leaps into the aisle where I'm taking cover, brandishing a knife. In melee combat he's no better than the ticket man, but the dice turn nasty again, and starting with a higher Skill and Stamina doesn't help me. While I bring William down to 1 Stamina, he gets to strike the killing blow.

Dang! Close, but not good enough. As it turns out, the extra damage done by the Schofield is pretty much irrelevant during the climactic shoot-out. If I'd chosen the Peacemaker instead, one of my lousy shots would have been on target, so killing Clement would have brought that phase of the endgame to a conclusion, and I'd have had an opportunity to pit my wits against Abel one-on-one. Still, I don't mind having to replay Six-Gun Friday anywhere near as much as I do certain of the other Fantazine adventures I have yet to win here.

Tuesday, 28 February 2023

How To Shoot At Someone Who Outdrew You

The idiosyncrasies of English idiom become an obstacle to my making a point here. There's a significant excluded middle between the commonly accepted meanings of 'a fan of' and 'not a fan of'. If you're a fan of something, you like it a lot (probably, and let's ignore those members of fandoms who appear to despise whatever they claim to be fans of). But if you say that you're not a fan of something, that is liable to be taken as expressing a significant dislike of it. So what about all the things you don't actively dislike, yet don't get particularly enthusiastic about?

That's where the genre known as 'the western' falls for me. On the one hand, I've watched and derived some enjoyment from at least half a dozen of the classics. But there are plenty of other renowned westerns that I've never seen, and have no real motivation to watch. I bailed on the original BBC screening of Silverado at the point where I realised it was not the Blazing Saddles-esque parody that an ingeniously edited trailer had made it appear to be. A local charity shop's overzealous enforcement of their '5 for £1' offer on DVDs has led to my acquiring dozens of previously unseen films alongside the ones I actually wanted to buy, but westerns constitute only a tiny minority of my 'give it a try just to make up the numbers' purchases. I don't hate westerns, but I'm not likely to go out of my way to watch one, either.

Thus, when it became apparent that Six-Gun Friday, the mini-adventure by Gaetano Abbondanza in Fighting Fantazine 13, was a western, I was neither enthusiastic nor filled with dread. Playing it almost immediately after Starhunt: Void Slavers, I may have been a little concerned at the lack of choice presented at the end of section 1, but it soon became apparent that this was a much better, properly interactive mini-adventure. And then the forum where I was logging the results of the 'play all FF in order' venture for which I was playing SGF got deleted in a fit of pique, which did nothing good for my motivation. By the time I finally resumed my initial attempt at the adventure, I'd lost track of what I'd done and encountered, so I don't know if the wrong decision that ultimately enabled the villains to elude justice was because I forgot an incidental clue or if it was a blind choice and I just picked the bad option.

When SGF came up in the randomised series playthrough I organised last year in celebration of FF's 40th anniversary, an unwise decision early on got me into a fistfight with an unexpectedly adept thug, who beat me to death. Randomness being what it is, the adventure has also already come up in this year's follow-up to that challenge, and in that attempt, I got a bullet through the lung courtesy of a young outlaw named William - wonder where the author got the idea for him.

A lot depends on my stats, and there’s less scope for allocating dice than usual, as there are only two stats here.
Skill: 11
Stamina:20
On this occasion there’s no need for me to switch dice around, but a low Skill would probably have been my ticket to Boot Hill.

I also get to pick two special skills from a list of five, and since not having Fast Draw contributed to at least two wounds and one death when I played SGF before, I think I'll take it this time. Tracking has definitely helped in the past, so I'll pick that as the other. And I can choose the type of revolver I carry, too: the Colt .45 Peacemaker improves accuracy, while the Smith & Wesson Schofield .45 does more damage. With that Skill, I think I’ll risk the Schofield – the slight risk of missing a shot is, I think, outweighed by the advantage of being able to kill outlaws faster and give them fewer opportunities to shoot at me.

The 'Background' section differs slightly from the norm, as it doesn't really say anything about the imminent adventure. Instead, it consists of a brief history of the town of Bent Reed and my character, town marshall Matthew Slade, presumably on the assumption that readers know enough about the genre to expect that the adventure will involve more than just the "property theft, drunken brawls, cattle burglary and the occasional gunfight" that I usually deal with.

Things remain pretty low-key once the actual adventure gets going. Rodrigo, my Native American 'acting jailer', beats me at chess, and a local farmer comes in to complain about missing chickens, showing signs of being prejudiced against members of Rodrigo's ethnic group. I have to get through that first, somewhat gratuitous section transition before the real action commences: a couple of ranchers hurry in to report that the local hardware store is on fire, one of them also passing on a rumour that it's arson and the perpetrator is at the Sagebrush Hotel.

Telling Rodrigo to stay put in case I have to arrest anybody, I hurry off to the hardware store. By the time I get there, the fire has taken a strong enough hold that there's no realistic prospect of saving the building, but the proprietor's wife is convinced that he's still inside, so prompt action is still required.

Avoiding the obvious entrance, I head round to the rear of the building and, finding the door locked, break a window to gain entry. Finding crates of goods but no sign of the missing shop owner, I head further in before something catches my eye. A man stands outside a window, intently watching the interior of the shop, and when I indicate for him to move away, he pulls out a pistol and fires, shattering the window but missing me as I dive to the floor.

Forgetting about the man I was trying to rescue, I leap through the now empty window frame to chase after the stranger who tried to shoot me. He's fast, and vanishes around the side of a barn, and when I follow, he is nowhere to be seen. His boot prints peter out, but my Tracking ability enables me to work out that the man doubled back on himself, and is now hiding under the canvas that covers a nearby wheelbarrow. I warn of my intent to shoot a few holes in the canvas, and the man gives himself up.

In the course of babbling about how he was only trying to scare me, not kill me, the man lets slip that he was not responsible for the fire, but had been left to keep an eye on the store. A few threats elicit the further information that he was acting under the instructions of the 'Friday boys', and that the fire is just a distraction to draw attention from what's going on at the bank.

Ordering the man to turn himself in at the jail, I acquire a codeword and hurry off to the bank. By the time I get there, it's almost too late, as I can see a group of horsemen galloping away. One horse remains tethered outside, though, and as I approach, its owner emerges from the bank and saddles up. I order him to stop, he trains his pistol on me, and before he can shoot, I use my Fast Draw skill and fire first, clipping his wrist and causing him to drop the gun. He issues some threats and, confident that a lawman won't shoot a wounded man in the back, gees up his horse and follows after the rest of the gang, leaving me with only a second codeword.

Some of the town militia join me, having heard word that the bank was being robbed. They let me know that the hardware shop owner was saved from the burning building, and we head into the bank to see what has happened. Inside we find the banker, Hastings, bound and gagged behind the counter. Once we've untied him, he confirms that the notorious Friday clan robbed the bank while the townspeople were dealing with the fire.

A meeting is held, and while one citizen is in favour of pursuing the robbers to Cheyenne before they can spend what they've stolen, most are too afraid of the gang's reputation for violence to take action themselves. In the end, I decide to go after the outlaws on my own, but ask the mayor to request federal back-up for me in Cheyenne.

Before I depart, the first codeword I picked up enables me to check up on Simmons, the man who'd been keeping watch on the hardware store. He did turn himself in as instructed, and a comparatively friendly talk with him provides me with a lead: the Friday clan will be gambling in the Black Dinah saloon while they're in Cheyenne. Armed with this information (and a few extra guns), I'm about to set off when Rodrigo advises me to wait until morning, so the Friday boys will have had time to hit a bottle or two, and unwind and lower their guard.

The next day I ride to Cheyenne without incident, and decide to keep my marshall's badge out of sight. The old-timer who stables my horse tells me that the closest saloon is the Blind Pig, and also mentions Black Dinah's, which is better quality but on the other side of town. Remembering what Simmons told me about the Friday boys' plans, I take back my horse and head for the more distant establishment.

Once I'm in the right part of town, Black Dinah's is impossible to miss. In addition to two bars and an assortment of gaming tables, it has a stage on which a band and a group of can-can dancers are performing, and there's just a gaping aperture where you'd expect to find the main door, purportedly because they never close. I take a seat at one of the bars, and as I'm paying for my drink, I inadvertently reveal my marshall's badge to the man sitting next to me. Figuring that I'm not here just for a bit of off-duty activity, he wants to know whom I seek to apprehend.

If he were with the Friday lot, he'd probably be shooting rather than asking questions. I mention that I'm from Bent Reed, and he knows enough about what's happened to comment that I'm either very brave or naïve. I comment on how well-informed he is, and he reaches into his coat. On this occasion I don't make use of Fast Draw: if the man wanted me dead, he'd either have attacked the moment he realised I was a lawman, or he'd be more subtle now he's learned enough to perceive me as a threat.

Rather than a weapon, he produces a badge which reveals him to be from the Pinkertons. The author seems to assume that there's no need to explain what this means, and while I have heard of that Detective Agency, it wouldn't surprise me if some readers were a bit puzzled until they reached the later paragraph that clarifies the point.

Frank, the Pinkerton man, is arrogant and condescending, and also a little bit tipsy, and I exploit this, pretending to be the overawed hick he thinks I am. Eager to show off, he displays the wanted poster he carries, which depicts the whole clan, and tells me about them. Most of what he tells me is probably fairly common knowledge, but towards the end of the conversation he lets slip that the Fridays have friends in high places, namely the Wyoming Stock Growers Association.

After Frank shambles away, I spend a while watching the clientele of Black Dinah's. One of whom, distracted by the dancers, trips over my foot and drops his drink. Some onlookers find this amusing, so he knocks me off my seat and gives me a kicking to restore his reputation. My priorities lie elsewhere, and once I've picked myself up, I turn my attention to one of the gaming tables, hoping to overhear something that might give me a lead.

Conversation around the table centres on the game in progress, which is of no real value to me. I'm about to give up and move on when an incident gets my attention. One of the players gets accused of cheating, and his reaction gives me my first opportunity to get a good look at him. At first glance he appears little more than a boy, though a little facial scarring suggests that he's not as inexperienced as he looks. The nervous reaction of some of the other players is also telling.

The youth shoots his accuser dead without warning, and reacts badly when the dealer addresses him as 'William'. This is indeed the youngest and potentially the most dangerous of the Friday clan, and I think I'll pass up the opportunity to take action right now. Based on my earlier attempts at this adventure, I know that there's no way of apprehending him at this stage, and that later on there will be a codeword check to establish how many of the Friday boys have a personal grudge against me. This time round there's already the man I wounded outside the bank, and I doubt that incurring William's enmity as well will do anything to improve my odds of surviving the coming confrontation.

Well, that was my plan, but when William starts seriously threatening the dealer, I wind up holding him at gunpoint anyway. I tell him he's under arrest, and he invites me to play a hand of cards and offers me a drink. My last, apparently, as he indicates that 'brother Abel' is behind me. Refusing to be taken in by the oldest trick in the book, I persist in attempting to arrest William. He flips over the table, and while I shoot through it, I only wound him (thereby acquiring another codeword), and he now has cover while I'm in the open. I take refuge behind another table, and William makes a bid for freedom, using the dancers as cover until he can get outside.

By now night has fallen, and pursuing a homicidal outlaw in unfamiliar territory while it's dark seems like an effective way to get myself killed. I seek directions to the closest hotel and book in for the night. The conversation I have with the clerk gives him a good idea of why I'm in town, and his reaction indicates that, like Frank, he doesn't think I have much chance of success, though his tone is regretful rather than condescending.

I head for the hotel restaurant for a meal, and when a sleazy individual starts harassing the wife of one of his employees at a nearby table, I intervene. He's not happy about this, and gives me a choice between allowing him to force his unwelcome attentions upon the woman and settling the matter with a fight. Not wanting to risk getting in trouble with local law enforcement, I go for a third option, showing my marshall's badge and threatening to make things official. He backs off, but suggests that something unpleasant might happen to me if I don't return to Bent Reed very soon, and I gain another codeword to show that this is no idle threat.

After that the night passes without incident. The next day I resume my investigations, following up the lead carelessly provided by Frank. A codeword check suggests that if I didn't have a clear goal in mind, I'd now be facing consequences for the altercation in the restaurant, but as I know where I'm going, I have no cause to meander into a part of town where that sleazebag's associates can remonstrate with me.

The Stock Growers' office isn't difficult to track down, and there I claim to be a ranch-owner seeking a buyer for a large herd of cattle. This gets me a letter of introduction and directions to the club where members of the Association tend to hang out. While queuing to enter the club, I learn that its clientele include many prominent citizens, even a senator and a judge. While I'm not as well-dressed as those around me, that letter suffices to get me through the door, and a young man escorts me to the drawing room.

It's all pretty decadent in here, and there are more than a dozen men already in the room, some talking, others gathered around a billiards table, the rest reading. The place has a selection of newspapers from big cities, and I take the opportunity to do a little reading myself. Fortuitously, I pick up a copy of the Chicago Daily Tribune which contains an article on the Friday clan. This mentions that they've recently started to focus on train heists, and includes photos of all six of the outlaws. So even if I hadn't had run-ins with a couple of them or seen Frank's poster, I'd still be able to recognise them as an attendant ushers them into the room...

The Association members present clearly know and have some arrangement with the Friday clan, which has doubtless helped the outlaws to evade justice for so long. Abel, the leader of the gang, requests that the other members vacate the room while he and his boys conduct a little business with me, and it's time for that codeword check. I don't have as many of the relevant codewords as I could, which is probably a good thing - the maximum could lead to my being shot on the spot for being too much of an annoyance. Still, having two rather than just the one I did the last time I got this far is still liable to mean trouble.

As it turns out, I seem to have got the optimal number of codewords. When I had just the one, the man I'd previously injured wanted to settle the score in a personal showdown. With two, the clan definitely want me dead, but when I point out that even if they kill me, they won't be able to avoid retribution forever, Abel agrees, and reveals that they're planning on moving to fresh territory. This prompts other members to start talking about their long-term plans, and an argument breaks out between William and Zeke, whose prospects are limited by the fact that he's slowly dying of tuberculosis.

While the bickering takes the Fridays' attention from me, I decide to try and make a break for it, as my chances of surviving a six-against-one confrontation are less than negligible. Diving for cover behind a divan, I manage to avoid being hit by any of the shots fired at me. The gang members cease fire and make moves to encircle me, but one of the Association members in the corridor outside, wondering if the sudden silence indicates that the showdown is over, opens the door a crack to peer inside. Seizing the opportunity, I dash through the door and make for the exit.

Sprinting in the direction of the constable's office, I catch sight of a group of mounted officers, accompanied by a more familiar face. Rather than stay put in Bent Reed like I told him to, Rodrigo has opted to provide me with a little additional back-up. The leader of the mounted officers introduces himself as Captain Hendricks of the 18th Cavalry, and indicates that he and his men are ready to act on whatever information I can provide to assist with the capture of the Fridays. I lead them to the club I so recently vacated, and bystanders mention that six men, one of them wounded, rode away a short time ago.

Allowing for the possibility that those men were decoys, Hendricks has some of his officers enter the club to search the building and question everyone still inside. The rest of us will attempt to catch up with the six, and based on what Abel said to me (plus process of elimination following on from my earlier failure), I figure that the railway station is where we need to go.

I doubt that I'm going to make it through the whole of the endgame before the end of this month, and this seems like a decent point at which to pause the action, so I'll post what I've achieved so far, and pick up the reins again when I have a bit more time to spare.

Monday, 16 January 2023

I Am the Danger

Game publisher Judges Guild brought out some Tunnels & Trolls material in the early 1980s, at least initially with the approval of the people behind T&T (I'll say more about this when I move on to the next JG adventure). The first of these was The Toughest Dungeon in the World, by prolific T&T author Ken St. Andre, illustrated by Kevin Siembieda, whose RPG Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles & Other Strangeness provided my school's gaming group with a variety of ways to get freshly-generated characters killed at high speed.

TTDITW has been reissued more than once, but my copy is a first edition, which means that it's got its fair share of errors (though the accompanying errata sheet does point out that they would make it rare and collectable if it were a postage stamp rather than a gaming product).

Most significant is the fact that, owing to miscommunication between author and publishers, the paragraphs haven't been scrambled. This makes it obvious that this is another adventure with unnecessary transitions - section 1 leads to section 2, which leads to section 3, which leads to section 4, which leads to 5, 6, 7 and 8, but as 4 is a hub and three of the sections to which it leads relate to returning after a non-lethal foray into the dungeon, it's necessary to pass through at least five different sections before getting to make any decisions. Given that most of these sections are all on the same page, and in the right order, this is not as annoying as having to repeatedly jump back and forth through the text, waiting for an opportunity to actually do something, but it's not a good sign when you know that the adventure is only less tiresome than it could have been because of a mistake.

Actually, the section padding does serve a bit of a purpose here. I need to eat and sleep every so often, and must keep track of the number of sections through which I pass to determine when lack of food and/or rest starts to have a harmful effect. Having the opening broken up the way it is means I'm that bit closer to suffering from hunger pangs and fatigue by the time I get to do anything, but no character should have to pass through that chain of sections more than once, so it's not that big a deal.

So, what of the adventure itself? It takes place in the protected caverns of Hael', purported to be the location of a lost Dwarven city containing a great treasure. In fact, by now the bulk of the treasure that can be found in the caverns was brought in by adventurers who sought the lost city and died, but loot is loot, regardless of whether it used to belong to the ruler of the Dwarves or a Warrior who failed a crucial saving roll. The point is that it's down here, and I need a substantial quantity of it.

By the way, I'm not an adventurer. I'm one of the denizens of the caverns. A Troll, to be precise (certain other 'monster' species are permissible, but Troll is the default option, so I might as well start with that). And why do I need to amass ten thousand gold pieces' worth of treasure? Well, that would enable me to relocate to Khazan and bribe my way into a cushy post in the Officer Corps, rather than being stuck down in a dank, dismal cave subject to repeated raids by parties of adventurers.

The rulebook includes two different sets of modifiers for creating 'monsters' with a full set of stats, but section 2 says to use the set that provides bigger bonuses to Strength and Constitution, which is fine by me. How much that helps is still subject to the whim of the dice, of course, and I get:
Strength 63
Intelligence 14
Luck 12
Constitution 84
Dexterity 8
Charisma -14
Speed 7
The negative score in Charisma is because I am a 'monster'. The further from 0, the better, and I treat it as a positive integer for the purpose of saving rolls. I don't get any starting gold or equipment, but my hide provides a degree of natural armour, and my claws are as good as a short sword in battle.

It being the start of the adventure, I must leave my lair and wander the caverns in search of adventurers and other creatures to fight and rob of their valuables. Stepping around the large stalagmite that conceals the entrance to my cave, I head along the tunnel and pick a side turning at random (as in, where I go is determined not by player whim but by the roll of a die).

Before long the scent of rotting meat alerts me to the proximity of another creature's lair, and I find the way in behind a big stalagmite. As Luck would have it, the occupant is currently out, doubtless looking for heroes and monsters to kill and plunder, so there's nothing to prevent me from helping myself to whatever cash and shinies my neighbour has saved up. Which turns out to be 200 coins. The type of coin should be determined by the level of the dungeon on which they're found, but since the text didn't specify anything more informative than 'deep within the caverns', I'm going to assume that they're gold.

Taking my ill-gotten gains, I return to the warren of passages, and find one that leads home, so I head back there to stash the money somewhere safe. A reasonably productive first excursion, but I'd better head straight out again, because I haven't yet found anything edible, and I will require a meal before long.

Heading out again, I find my way to a large grotto, which has been turned into something of a maze by walls of limestone. I wander around for a bit before finding an exit, which slopes down to end at the bank of a subterranean stream. It's not too deep to wade through, so I turn and splash downstream for a bit. For around a couple of hours (which, referring to the rulebook, seems to be roughly equivalent to 12 section transitions for the purposes of timekeeping - pity the text didn't specify) I follow the flow of the water until it disappears into a hole through which I cannot pass, forcing me to turn back and take one of the side passages I ignored on the way down.

A wide ledge overlooks the tunnel I enter, making it a good place to prepare an ambush. Climb up, wait for something edible or wealthy or both to wander below, leap to the attack. Or, as more randomness is likely to determine what happens next, possibly climb up, waste a few hours waiting for prey that never turns up, get that bit closer to starvation. Maybe even start to climb up, get surprised by some other monster that had the idea first, fight it at a disadvantage. Nevertheless, I shall give it a try.

There's no ambush awaiting me, but there are additional hunger penalties to be had if I spend 4 or more hours lurking without any prospective victims passing by. As luck would have it, I'm only up there for two hours before a party of adventurers comes by. Assorted rolls on tables determine the size and make-up of the party, but every new adventurer generated this way (including future encounters if I survive that long) is a little bit more powerful than the previous one, so the toughness of the adventure increases the longer it goes on.

As for this party, a male Rogue leads the way, armed with a spear and wearing no armour. Behind him come two Warriors, the man bearing a mitre and a shield, with a steel cap on his head, while the woman has full mail armour and wields a scythe. Bringing up the rear is an Elven Rogue, also equipped with a scythe, but wearing only leather armour. Neither Rogue knows any magic, which is a good thing for me, but also illustrates the problem I have with the character class: until they make enough money to start learning spells, they're just inferior Warriors, and considering how lethal most T&T adventures are, I can't see most Rogues surviving long enough to make use of their potential sorcerous capabilities.

The odds slightly favour the party, but if I can get in a lucky blow at the start and kill one of them straight off, that should give me the advantage. And maybe I miscalculated, because things go better for me than I expected. By the end of the third round, I've killed the Rogue with no armour, and though I haven't managed to penetrate the armour of any of his companions, seeing him die is enough to scare them into retreat. Slightly disappointingly, the dead Rogue has no valuables on him, but he's edible, and that spear is a better weapon than my claws. I just have the Dexterity required to wield it, so I'll be better equipped in my next fight.

Dragging the corpse back to my lair, I have a good meal. Since I took no damage in the fight, I get to increase my Constitution by 1 point. There's no need to rest just yet, so I go out in search of fresh victims. However, I haven't got very far before I am attacked myself.

My assailants turn out to be more adventurers. Only two this time: both Dwarven warriors, one with a poleaxe and leather armour, the other wielding a broadsword and wearing chainmail. Still, this duo presents a greater threat than the party of four I previously fought, and they inflict the first wound. I don't fancy my chances here, so even though flight will at best enable me to survive until my next, doubtless worse, battle, I'm still going to try and get away while I can.

Unexpectedly, they can't see in the dark (so how come I didn't spot their light source before they attacked me), and I have no trouble getting away from them. Rushing through the darkened tunnels, I wind up in the vicinity of another creature's lair, and creep in. This one is occupied, but at least whatever is in there is the first monster I've encountered: like the adventurers, the other creatures inhabiting these caverns get progressively more dangerous.

Unfortunately for me, I've blundered into the lair of a Liche. It only slightly outclasses me, but lucky rolls enable it to hit me three times before I can (and indeed must) run away. This time my flight takes me back to my own lair, so I think I'll see if resting will enable me to recover any health before I go out in search of tougher opponents. I know it would make more sense to seek easier prey, but the way this is structured, that just isn't an option.

Thanks to a good Luck roll, my slumbers are untroubled. However, it turns out that sleep can only restore Strength, not Constitution, so my rest leaves me no better off (except that I'm that bit further from any risk of fatigue-induced stat deterioration). Consequently, I need to head out and hope for some very favourable rolls the next time I encounter something hostile, as I need to eat even though I'm still some way away from triggering the hunger-based penalties.

Spotting another ledge suitable for ambushing, I climb up on it, but after a couple of hours nobody has come by, and I'm getting close to the point where I'll take starvation damage if I leave it for another hour, so I climb back down and start proactively searching for prey. I scent another lair, and have the good fortune to fail the Luck roll which determines whether or not the owner is at home. Yes, I have a fight ahead of me, but if I somehow survive, I should be able to eat.

This time I've found some Cave Lizards, which are nowhere near as dangerous as that Liche. Indeed, I slaughter them in a single round of battle. Somehow the Lizards have treasure - I'm assuming that they dragged the bodies of victims here to snack on, and there's money on some of the corpses. 300 coins, in fact. I take them and the dead Lizards back to my own lair, and eat them. The meal only restores a tiny fraction of what I lost in battle, but it does avert more serious Constitution loss, and by taking another nap straight afterwards, I get a small boost to my Strength, which will fractionally improve my chances in the next fight.

And back to the grind. Soon after leaving my lair, I see torchlight. Looks like more adventurers. I could do with the dice making it a lone human Rogue with no armour or magic and a rubbish weapon, but I doubt that I'll be that lucky.

I charge at the party, and have to roll against my Dexterity. I can see how that could make sense, but the consequences of my failing the roll are not 'you stumble and make yourself vulnerable to attack' but 'the adventurers are not intimidated', so a Charisma roll would have been more appropriate. And it would appear that I'm expected to have memorised the section number for determining the make-up of a party of adventurers, because I've not been directed there yet this encounter, but am now being asked about the presence of magic-users.

Having found the relevant section myself, I determine that I'm up against a lone Dwarf: a Warrior armed with a crossbow and a scythe, using just a shield and protective headgear for armour. The adventure appears to lack rules governing use of ranged weapons by hostile adventurers - if the Dwarf were a Wizard, he could fire a spell at me while I make my approach, but loosing a bolt from the crossbow is apparently beyond his capabilities.

The crossbow requiring two hands to operate, the Dwarf cannot use both it and the scythe against me simultaneously. Damage-wise, the crossbow is the superior weapon, but reloading it takes a round, which is a pretty serious disadvantage in a one-on-one fight. Most of the RPG players I know would, in a situation like this, try to use the crossbow in the first round of the fight and then switch to the scythe, vehemently dismissing the possibility that changing weapons mid-battle would in any way inconvenience their character, so I'll go with that scenario here. Or rather, I would, but even allowing the Dwarf to use his better weapon in the first round, I still purée him with one blow.

Despite allowing for encounters with lone adventurers, the adventure only covers two possible 'kill a foe' set-ups: kill one, scaring off the rest of the party, or massacre everyone and receive an experience point bonus. I guess I'll have to take the bonus, even though the 'magnificent slaughter' I just enacted wasn't actually that impressive. I also get to take the Dwarf's weapons (not sure if the crossbow will do me any good, but I can dual-wield the scythe and the spear I looted from the Rogue) and treasure (just 60 coins, but that still brings me a little closer to my target), and drag the corpse home for a meal and a snooze.

After waking, I go out again, and find another (or the same) stream. Will investigating upstream prove any more fulfilling than downstream? Well, it's less time-consuming, at least: I take slightly less than an hour to reach a waterfall. Side passages lead up and down, or I can check for hidden openings behind the waterfall. On this occasion there's only solid rock on the other side of the cascading water, so I must investigate a side passage.

The descending tunnel to the left has a section number that can't be reached from just outside my lair, so I check that out. It leads down to the shore of a massive black lake. Don't think I'll touch the water just yet, but I will explore further rather than turning back.

Unseen hostiles throw spears at me. Saving rolls determine that five of the seven spears thrown graze me, but even if my natural armour provides no protection, the damage done is still negligible. Then the mob of Goblins I have encountered charges to the attack with more spears. Weight of numbers, combined with the overly generous attribute increase for each Goblin after the first, and the lack of any escape option, leads to my death by attrition.

So, I failed. Hardly surprising, given that the author admits to never having won it himself during playtesting, and the principal other playtester proclaimed it 'too tough'. To be honest, this adventure has felt so uninspired that I've been hoping for a lethal encounter for some time, and now I'm free to reshelve TTDITW and play something more enjoyable.

Monday, 2 January 2023

Not the Territory

As Proteus 2, The Mines of Malagus, has just been reviewed at Gamebook Odyssey, and one of the biggest complaints in the review regarded the difficulty of mapping the eponymous mines, I thought I'd weigh in on the issue.

I agree that it's trickier to map than your average gamebook subterranean complex of tunnels, largely because of an authorial gimmick that adds to reader confusion and paragraph count. Whereas in, for example, The Warlock of Firetop Mountain's notorious Maze of Zagor, one particular T-junction is section 52, regardless of the direction from which you approached it, a similar junction in Mines has different section numbers based on which way you are going when you reach it. If you're going north, the junction is at 156, but if you're heading west, it's section 138, and it's 179 if you're travelling south. This, combined with the lack of any details of distance covered, makes it that bit harder to recognise when you're returning to a junction you've already been across.

Nevertheless, the layout is internally consistent, and can be mapped (which is more than can be said for the crimes against cartography perpetrated by some adventures). Back when I exhaustively played Mines in order to review it, I persisted with trying to map the place, and eventually produced this:

Doesn't look much like a mine, to be honest.

The adventure through which I am currently slogging for my next playthrough is unmappable by design (so much randomisation), which makes me that bit more appreciative of the fact that, while the author of Mines made mapping more challenging than necessary, they did at least play fair and create something that a sufficiently stubborn player could draw.


Saturday, 31 December 2022

Life's Rich Demand Creates Supply in the Hand

The Fighting Fantasy playthrough contest I set up to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the launch of the series has entered its final phase. For the readers who enjoyed my earlier list of outcomes to the books I'd played by the time I posted about the challenge, here's how I fared in the remaining titles (leaving out the ones I have yet to play here). As before, adventures I won on this blog but failed this year are highlighted in blue, while yellow indicates success at an adventure I didn't beat here.

The Warlock of Firetop Mountain – Won
Deathtrap Dungeon – Killed by the second Flying Guardian (again)
Scorpion Swamp – Killed by leeches after assorted fights wore my Stamina down
The Seven Serpents – Killed by the Moon Serpent 
The Crown of Kings – Poisoned by a Mucalytic’s toxic breath
Temple of Terror – Missed one Dragon artefact, so the villain (who missed the other four of them, but obviously wasn't playing an adventure written by Ian Livingstone) succeeded in his quest and went on to wage war against my homeland
The Rings of Kether – A bureaucrat hit me on the head with a paperweight
The Dark Chronicles of Anakendis – Killed by the Astromancer
Appointment with F.E.A.R. – Was destroyed by lasers along with my home city for not knowing the date (seriously, I was in the right place at the right time, but since I didn't know which day it was, I failed to spot the villains and thwart their scheme)
Rogue Mage – Killed by the Scitalis
Deadline to Destruction – Cut the wrong wire while trying to defuse a bomb
Clash of the Princes: The Warrior’s Way – Killed by a Werewolf
Masks of Mayhem – Blundered into a chasm in the dark
Star Strider – Was forced to play Russian Roulette and got unlucky (again)
Midnight Rogue – Killed by an Ogre
Chasms of Malice – Something furry killed my cat and clawed my face off
Slaves of the Abyss – Got locked in a cell and never released
Daggers of Darkness – Trapped by rapidly thickening ice, suffocated and frozen
Dead of Night – Got a sharpened pendulum in the frontal lobe
Spectral Stalkers – Was electrocuted on a staircase after getting Fibonacci and prime numbers mixed up

The Crimson Tide – Imprisoned and tortured or worse by the king’s adviser
Siege of Sardath – Failed to spot the exit, and got killed by a Ghost I lacked the wherewithal to fight
Return to Firetop Mountain – Dematerialised by a Doppelganger
Night Dragon – Fake pilgrims cut my throat while I was sleeping
Knights of Doom – Killed by Mummers
Eye of the Dragon – Killed by Cyclops
Howl of the Werewolf – Killed by Werebear
Stormslayer – Killed by Naiads
Night of the Necromancer – Got trapped in the floor for not knowing how my usurper self-identifies
Prey of the Hunter – Won
Vengeance at Midnight – Killed by the last two of six criminals
Blood of the Zombies – Killed by Attack Dogs (but not while wearing a suit of armour this time)
Starhunt: Void Slavers – Killed by Sump Monster

To my surprise, a few people joined in more than two thirds of the way through the challenge, some of them expressing the hope that I'd run another one in 2023. I hadn't been planning on doing so, but since nobody else was willing to take up the baton, I've now organised a new one here, to start on January 1st. Learning from some of the things that proved awkward this year, I've made a few minor changes to the set-up, but in essence it's the same: play through one or two adventures a week, and see how you fare compared to other people attempting the same titles. It'll be interesting to see how much of a difference the amended rules make: even among those who played every week, there's a wide range of scores.

Best wishes for 2023 to all my readers.

Tuesday, 29 November 2022

Whichever I Choose, It Amounts to the Same

The adventure I'm currently playing is proving something of a slog, so to keep the blog ticking over, here are some tangential musings I've been intermittently working on this year.

A while back I found a post at the Gamebook Reviews blog which got me thinking about 'unlosable' gamebooks. I made a comment there, but subsequently it occurred to me to post something on the topic here because:

  1. I thought of more to say.
  2. Not that many people were likely to read a comment made on a blog post that was already months old.
In case anyone is unclear on what I mean by 'unlosable', this is nothing to do with gamebooks like Starship Traveller and the Virtual Reality Adventures series, where you can be certain of succeeding at the adventure so long as you take the correct route through the book. I'm talking about gamebooks that don't have any 'fail endings'.

There are different types of gamebook that fit into this category. For now I'm focusing on the books which only have one ending and one basic plot, which unfolds more or less the same way regardless of the decisions you make (though I do intend to waffle on about the other sort at a later date). 

The most basic examples of this would be the 'CYOA for toddlers' series Your First Adventure, a set of optimistically fatalistic micro-adventures with just one decision, both choices leading to the same favourable outcome. I'm too far removed from the mindset of pre-preschoolers to have any idea what sort of appeal such books would have to the target audience, but so much is said about young children's love of repetition, it wouldn't surprise me if most tots exposed to these books preferred making the same decision every time. Which, let's be honest, is good practice for a lot of the more 'one true path' gamebooks for older readers.

Today's youngsters may have encountered David Glover's Maths Quest gamebooks. Practically every decision in these is not a choice in the normal gamebook sense: instead, the reader is presented with a mathematical problem and a small selection of possible answers. Pick the correct answer, and you progress to the next stage of the adventure. Get it wrong, and there's trouble afoot. It's not the first time such a formula has been tried - the Be An Interplanetary Spy series had a bit more variety in the types of puzzle used, but essentially worked the same way. Except that in BAIS, getting it wrong usually meant death or some other form of failure. MQ, by contrast, hints at some terrible fate that is about to befall you, but then averts the threatened doom, usually via the intervention of the book's designated mystery sidekick. It's like Bullseye's evil twin - "Come and have a look at how you would have died."

There was a subsequent series of Maths Quest books by different authors, and similar books released under the History Quest and Science Quest banners, which went a step further. Pick a wrong answer, and the book just tells you why you didn't get it right, and sends you back to the question to try again. Not even a narrow escape, making these books rather less 'thrilling' than their blurbs assert them to be.

An earlier series of gamebooks that worked similarly to Maths/History/Science Quest was Martin Waddell's The Mystery Squad. Decisions were mostly puzzle-based, and getting a wrong answer led to your being told you were wrong (and often pelted with custard pies for your foolishness) and sent back to the puzzle section for another try. Still, those books did require the reader to keep track of how many times they got pied, and used that figure to rate the reader's performance at the end, so there were at least consequences to making mistakes in those books.

Much the same kind of rating system (using red herrings rather than custard pies) features in Mary Danby's The Famous Five and You books. It's a long time since I read any of the Enid Blyton books on which they're based, but the point (such as it is) of the gamebook adaptations appears to be to reproduce the original narrative as closely as possible. The first decision in the first book regards whether the children should travel by train or by car, and if you don't pick the 'right' one (determined, as far as I can tell, by what happened in Five on a Treasure Island), you get a redirect and a red herring. These books (yes, plural - there were apparently half a dozen of the things) aren't about finding new takes on 'classic' children's adventure stories, they're disguised trivia quizzes based for the most part on dull minutiae. I think I may have a new least favourite gamebook series here.

A not-so-obvious variant is Harry Harrison's misleadingly-named You Can Be the Stainless Steel Rat. Play it once, and it's a moderately entertaining adventure in which you're a rookie in the Special Corps, sent to a prison planet to find a certain mad scientist. Play it again, and you soon discover that the decisions you make are meaningless. For instance, at one point you get to take one of three weapons with you. Immediately afterwards, you encounter an opponent against whom the weapon you chose is of no use. The nature of that opponent varies depending on which weapon you picked, but the plot beat is always the same: you chose 'poorly', and get robbed as a consequence of not having selected the 'right' weapon. 

Almost every fork in the narrative is like this. Faced with a binary choice, one option leading to success, the other to disaster, your selection always takes you to the outcome the author has already chosen. And it's not just decisions. Flip a coin (renamed an amphisibenic bipolar determinator in the text because jargon) to determine who wins a contest - the result for heads is identical to that for tails. When captured by the Star Beast, your freedom depending on how well you answer its riddles, wrong answers leave you no worse off than correct ones.

There are a couple of sort-of exceptions, where picking one option leads to being told something like, 'No, doing that would be stupid and doom you. Go back and choose the alternative course of action, you idiot,' but that's not exactly an improvement. The book's interactivity is illusory, and the decisions you make are irrelevant.

Most of the Back to the Future mini-gamebooks given away with breakfast cereal in the mid-1980s are similarly railroady. Follow the course of events that played out in the film, or don't - you end up in the same place regardless. Except for in the second and sixth 'books' in the series.

I only ever read book 2 once, decades ago, so I don't remember it clearly, but I do know that it makes it possible to avoid causing the paradox on which the movie's plot hinges, at which point the gamebook narrative rather fizzles out because the author didn't have the space to develop the concept. Book 6 has more diversity of outcomes, but in the end they all boil down to either a variant of what happened on screen, or words to the effect of, 'Oh well, you have a time machine. Better go back to the start and try again.' Obviously there are limits to how much you can do for a cereal packet freebie, but there are other examples that provided more challenging adventures over breakfast. 

Three Men in a Maze, published as part of the Tracker Books series, is a slightly different sort of interactive adaptation of a novel, based on an anecdote from Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men in a Boat. As a textual simulation of what it's like to get lost in Hampton Court Maze under the guidance of a buffoon who thinks he's a lot smarter than he is, it's not bad, but you'd probably derive more entertainment from reading the book on which it's based.

I shan't say much about the pseudonymous Jak Shadow's F.E.A.R. Adventures, as I've already played most of them on this blog. Still, they merit a mention here. As in the Glover Maths Quest books, you can make 'bad' decisions, but never actually face the consequences of your 'error'. Instead you get sent back to the start to try again - which I consider a failure, hence my covering them in the blog, but the books themselves shy away from demoralising their readers with that f-word. Instead, they demoralise you by disregarding logic and reality, and punishing sensible decisions, but I've ranted about that elsewhere.

I never really got into Bantam Books' Time Machine series, but given that it lasted for over 20 books, it must have found a decent audience. In any case, at least some of them merit a mention here, though they're a bit of a special case. As I understand it, the point of these books is to find the chain of decisions that leads to the ending, with poor choices causing you to loop back to an earlier point in the narrative. That might make them sound like the F.E.A.R. Adventures, but while F.E.A.R. uses the looping back to cop out of having the viewpoint character come to any harm, Time Machine is more like attempting to navigate a textual maze (only with options more varied than choosing a direction at each junction).

Well, that's how the earlier ones work, at least. Reviews suggest that there are also books in the series where progress towards victory is inevitable regardless of the choices made, and a couple in which it's possible to get trapped in a loop on account of having chosen the wrong item at the outset. So, not every entry in the series is 'unlosable', though the exceptions may be that way owing to authorial or editorial errors rather than a deliberate change from the norm.

Anyway, those (and arguably the Marvel Super Heroes book that helped inspire this post) are all of the 'reach the same victory ending no matter what you do' gamebooks of which I am aware. Readers are welcome to mention any I've missed, correct errors, or just make their views on the subject known. But please don't say anything about 'unlosable' gamebooks with a variety of different plotlines and/or endings, as I'll be covering those in a separate blog entry.