In a desperate race against tine, deep within Darkwood, your quest is to find the missing pieces of the legendary Hammer of Stonebridge, which was fashioned by Dwarfs to protect peaceful Stonebridge against its ancient doom.
Two dice, a pencil and an eraser are all you need to embark on this thrilling adventure of sword and sorcery, complete with its elaborate combat system and a score sheet to record your gains and losses.
Many dangers lie ahead and your success is by no means certain. Powerful adversaries are ranged against you and often your only choice is to kill or be killed!
Two more Fighting Fantasy Gamebooks are published in Puffin: The Warlock of Firetop Mountain and The Citadel of Chaos.
HOW TO FIGHT THE CREATURES OF DARKWOOD FOREST
There are just the original 3 ability scores, combat is like every FF book that is not Creature of Havoc or a sci-fi title, and Provisions and Equipment and all that other shit are like in Ian Livingstone's later solo books: City of Thieves, Deathtrap Dungeon, and Island of the Lizard King.
Which means we get one of three Potions (Skill, Strength, or Fortune) and 10 Provisions (they're still +4 STAMINA each, and now can be eaten at any time outside of combat--and there is no limit to how many we can eat at a time.) Skill Potion restores SKILL to full, Strength does the same to STAMINA, and Fortune does the same to LUCK but also adds 1 to your Initial score before restoring it (basically it restores LUCK to LUCK+1)
Which means we get one of three Potions (Skill, Strength, or Fortune) and 10 Provisions (they're still +4 STAMINA each, and now can be eaten at any time outside of combat--and there is no limit to how many we can eat at a time.) Skill Potion restores SKILL to full, Strength does the same to STAMINA, and Fortune does the same to LUCK but also adds 1 to your Initial score before restoring it (basically it restores LUCK to LUCK+1)
BACKGROUND
You are an adventurer, a sword for hire, and have been roaming the northern borderlands of your kingdom. Having always spurned the dullness of village life, you now wander the lands in search of wealth and danger. Despite the long walks and rough outdoor life you are content with your unknown destiny. The world holds no fears for you as you are a skillful warrior, well practiced in the art of slaying evil men and beasts with your trusty sword. Not once during the last ten days since entering the northern borderlands have you set eyes upon another person. This does not worry you at all, as you are happy with your own company and enjoy the slow, sunny days hunting, eating and sleeping.
It is evening, and having feasted on a dinner of rabbit, spit-roasted on an open fire, you settle down to sleep beneath your sheepskin blanket. There's a full moon, and the light sparkles on the blade of your broadsword skewered into the ground by your side. You gaze at it, wondering when you will next have to wipe the blood of some vile creature from its sharp edge. These are strange lands, inhabited by weird and loathsome beasts—goblins, trolls and even dragons.
As the flame of your camp fire gently dies, you begin to drift asleep, and images of screaming, green-faced trolls flicker through your mind. Suddenly, in the bushes to your left, you hear the loud crack of a twig breaking under a clumsy foot. You leap up and grab your sword from the ground. You stand motionless but alert, ready to pounce on your unseen adversary. Then you hear a groan, followed by the dull thud of a body falling to the ground. Is it a trap? Slowly you walk over to the bush where the noise is coming from and carefully pull back the branches. You look down to see a little old man with a great bushy beard, his face contorted with pain. You crouch down to remove the iron helmet covering his balding head and notice two crossbow bolts protruding from the stomach of his plump, chainmail-clad torso. Picking him up, you carry him over to the fire and stir the dying embers into life. After covering him with the sheepskin blanket, you manage to get the old man to drink a little water He coughs and moans. He sits up rigid, eyes staring fixedly ahead, and starts to shout.
‘I'll get them! I’ll get them! Don’t you fear, Gillibran, Bigleg is coming to bring you the hammer. Oh yes, indeed I am. Oh yes. . .'
The dwarf, whose name you presume to be Bigleg, is obviously delirious from the poison-tipped bolts lodged in his stomach. You watch as he slumps down again to the ground, then whisper his name in his ear. His eves stare unblinkingly at you, as he again starts to shout.
'Ambush! Look out! Ambush! Aagh! The hammer! Take the hammer to Gillibranl Save the dwarfs!'
His eyes half close and the pain seems to ease a little, and as the delirium subsides, he speaks to you again in a low whisper.
'Help us, friend . . . take the hammer to Gillibran—only the hammer will unite our people against the trolls . . . We were on our way to Darkwood in search of the hammer . . . ambushed by the little people . . . others fled . . . the map in my pouch will take you to the home of Yaztromo, the master mage of these parts . . . he has great magics for sale to protect you against the creatures of Darkwood . . . take my gold . . I beg you to find the hammer and take it to Gillibran, my Lord of Stonebridge . . . You will be well rewarded. . .'
Bigleg opens his mouth to start another sentence, but nothing comes out except his last dying breath. You sit down and ponder Bigleg's words. Who is Gillibran? Who is Yaztromo? What is all the fuss about the dwarfish hamrner? You reach over to the still body of Bigleg and remove the pouch from the leather belt around his waist. Inside you find 10 Gold Pieces and a map.
Jingling the coins in your hand you think of the possible rewards which may await you just for returning a hammer to a village of dwarfs. You decide to try to find the hammer in Darkwood Forest; it's been a few weeks since your last good battle, and, what is more, you are likely to be well paid for this one.
With your mind made up, you settle down to sleep, having taken back the sheepskin blanket from poor Bigleg. In the morning you bury the old dwarf and gather up your possessions. You examine the map, look up to the sun, and find your bearings. Whistling merrily, you head off south at a good pace, eager to meet this man Yaztromo and see what he has to offer.
It is evening, and having feasted on a dinner of rabbit, spit-roasted on an open fire, you settle down to sleep beneath your sheepskin blanket. There's a full moon, and the light sparkles on the blade of your broadsword skewered into the ground by your side. You gaze at it, wondering when you will next have to wipe the blood of some vile creature from its sharp edge. These are strange lands, inhabited by weird and loathsome beasts—goblins, trolls and even dragons.
As the flame of your camp fire gently dies, you begin to drift asleep, and images of screaming, green-faced trolls flicker through your mind. Suddenly, in the bushes to your left, you hear the loud crack of a twig breaking under a clumsy foot. You leap up and grab your sword from the ground. You stand motionless but alert, ready to pounce on your unseen adversary. Then you hear a groan, followed by the dull thud of a body falling to the ground. Is it a trap? Slowly you walk over to the bush where the noise is coming from and carefully pull back the branches. You look down to see a little old man with a great bushy beard, his face contorted with pain. You crouch down to remove the iron helmet covering his balding head and notice two crossbow bolts protruding from the stomach of his plump, chainmail-clad torso. Picking him up, you carry him over to the fire and stir the dying embers into life. After covering him with the sheepskin blanket, you manage to get the old man to drink a little water He coughs and moans. He sits up rigid, eyes staring fixedly ahead, and starts to shout.
‘I'll get them! I’ll get them! Don’t you fear, Gillibran, Bigleg is coming to bring you the hammer. Oh yes, indeed I am. Oh yes. . .'
The dwarf, whose name you presume to be Bigleg, is obviously delirious from the poison-tipped bolts lodged in his stomach. You watch as he slumps down again to the ground, then whisper his name in his ear. His eves stare unblinkingly at you, as he again starts to shout.
'Ambush! Look out! Ambush! Aagh! The hammer! Take the hammer to Gillibranl Save the dwarfs!'
His eyes half close and the pain seems to ease a little, and as the delirium subsides, he speaks to you again in a low whisper.
'Help us, friend . . . take the hammer to Gillibran—only the hammer will unite our people against the trolls . . . We were on our way to Darkwood in search of the hammer . . . ambushed by the little people . . . others fled . . . the map in my pouch will take you to the home of Yaztromo, the master mage of these parts . . . he has great magics for sale to protect you against the creatures of Darkwood . . . take my gold . . I beg you to find the hammer and take it to Gillibran, my Lord of Stonebridge . . . You will be well rewarded. . .'
Bigleg opens his mouth to start another sentence, but nothing comes out except his last dying breath. You sit down and ponder Bigleg's words. Who is Gillibran? Who is Yaztromo? What is all the fuss about the dwarfish hamrner? You reach over to the still body of Bigleg and remove the pouch from the leather belt around his waist. Inside you find 10 Gold Pieces and a map.
Jingling the coins in your hand you think of the possible rewards which may await you just for returning a hammer to a village of dwarfs. You decide to try to find the hammer in Darkwood Forest; it's been a few weeks since your last good battle, and, what is more, you are likely to be well paid for this one.
With your mind made up, you settle down to sleep, having taken back the sheepskin blanket from poor Bigleg. In the morning you bury the old dwarf and gather up your possessions. You examine the map, look up to the sun, and find your bearings. Whistling merrily, you head off south at a good pace, eager to meet this man Yaztromo and see what he has to offer.
eyes appear and examine you .
'Well, who are you?' demands a grumpy voice through the hole.
You answer that you are an adventurer in search of the master mage Yaztromo, intending to purchase magical items from him to combat the creatures of Darkwood Forest.
'Oh ! Well in that case, if you are interested in buying some of my merchandise, you had better come up. I am Yaztromo.'
He then turns and slowly climbs the stone stairs. Will you:
Follow him up the stairs?
Draw your sword and attack him?
Adventure Sheet
[Name TBD]
SKILL 9/9
STAMINA 18/18
LUCK 12/12
Equipment: Sword, Leather Armor
Provisions: 10 Meals (+4 STAMINA)
Potions: One of Skill (restores SKILL to full), Strength (restores STAMINA to full), or Fortune (restores LUCK to full+1)
Gold Pieces: 30
Items: Map
