Lesser-Known Gamebooks: Sagas of the Demonspawn

[angelfromanotherpin]

(After returning to the statue room and choosing to leave.)

Fire*Wolf breathed the clear, sweet taste of fresh air in his lungs. He was not entirely sure how he had reached this place, but he felt strong, brim-full of energy. He felt good!

As well he might. Please turn to Special Section A on page 242 for full details of what our hero has achieved.

FIRE*WOLF
THE SORCERER

If your character has got this far - especially with a decent POWER reserve - you certainly deserve congratulation. The chances now are excellent that he will complete the first phase of his epic adventure without getting killed too often. For now Fire*Wolf is no longer a mere fighting man, but is, at least potentially, a sorcerer as well.

In a moment, we'll go into exactly what that means. Meanwhile, a subtle but important point: You know Fire*Wolf abhors sorcery. He has been forced by circumstances to equip himself as a practitioner of the Mystic Arts: but how far will his horror of things magical permit him to use them? He is already, as you know, extremely upset by the Doomsword, although sheer survival has forced him to use it frequently. Will he really begin with wild abandon to throw fireballs at every foe he meets simply because he has the POWER and Art to do so?

The answer is, of course, that he will not. However desperate the situation, there is still a strong chance his natural inclinations will get the upper hand and force him to ignore his sorcerous powers in favour of his strong right arm. Thus, there will henceforth be certain rules you must follow in Fire*Wolf's application of the Mystic Arts.

The rules are these:
1. Before Fire*Wolf can use any spell, you must make a check roll to determine his natural inclination. Roll two dice. If our hero fails to score 4 or better on the roll, he will not use ANY sorcery in the current section, however hard pressed he may be.
2. However much POWER he has at his disposal, he will never use the same spell twice in a single section. (He may, of course, use different spells in the same section if he has the POWER to do so.)

Alongside this, it must be remembered that, as King Arthur's Druid Wizard Merlin used to say, sorcery is not a bowl of cherries. Thus, while a spell may be cast, it will not always work. It is in the nature of the Mystic Arts that they include an automatic Fundamental Failure Rate (FFR for short). The FFR of sorcery means that each time a spell is cast, our hero must throw 6 or better on two dice to determine whether or not the spell succeeds.

The annoying thing about this is that a spell requires POWER to cast, not to work. So even if the dice roll shows the spell has failed, the POWER applied in casting it is still used up.

The book has been very determined to keep Fire*Wolf separate from the reader. Fighting Fantasy is always determined that YOU are the hero, and even books with pre-named protagonists (like Altheus, Lone Wolf, Avenger, or Sagard) mostly try for immersion. In this we get things like 'Fire*Wolf can't decide, you must decide for him,' and now the possibility of randomly refusing to cast. I wonder if any part of that was the sex content.

In any case, I find the existence of two separate failure chances much more irritating than having to pay before one of those chances is rolled.

Spell Power
In the list which follows, POWER expenditure is shown for each spell. Unless Fire*Wolf has sufficient POWER at the time he wishes to cast a spell, he simply cannot do so. The best he can do is decide to use that spell in a future section if POWER becomes available to him.

This means, in effect, that Fire*Wolf has two chances to beat his natural inclinations. The first chance comes when he has insufficient POWER to cast a particular spell. At that time you can make a check roll on his natural inclination - and even if it goes against the grain, you can make a second check in a new section when POWER becomes available. If the second check is favourable, then he can use the spell.

I can barely parse that second paragraph.

Power Renewal
Fire*Wolf's experiences in the Crypts have given him a new statistic - his POWER figure. This now becomes as much a part of his character as his SPEED, STRENGTH, SKILL etc. stats. But unlike the others, POWER is dispersed each time a spell is cast. For Fire*Wolf to survive his adventures, there must be some way in which his POWER can be regained.

In point of fact, there are three possibilities open to him in this respect:
1. He can simply take a chance and carry on his adventure. In every new Section he enters, he will automatically regain 1 POWER point. This is regained POWER only: it cannot ever take him beyond his original POWER total.
2. He may trade off his LIFE POINTS for POWER on a one for one basis. That is to say, if he wishes to use a spell and does not have the POWER available, he may elect to use one LIFE POINT to replace each point of POWER needed.
3. He may make use (providing he has reserved sufficient POWER) of the Crypt Spell, which will not alone give him an opportunity to regain POWER but is actually his only certain means of increasing his POWER stat.

Point #2 there is the most important, because LIFE POINTS are actually cheap. We have multiple hundreds of them and a life drinking weapon. Also, Point #3 is insanity, but I'll get into that with the spell analyses.

SPELL TABLE

SPELL	EFFECT	POWER
ARMOUR	Creates DR 10 armor of light around Fire*Wolf.	25
CRYPT	Returns Fire*Wolf to the Crypts where he may take as many of the tests as he wishes in order to restore or increase his POWER.	10
FIREBALL	Hurls a magical ball of flame from Fire*Wolf's palm which will cause 50 LIFE POINTS damage to an enemy.	15
INVISIBILITY	Renders Fire*Wolf invisible for the remainder of the section. He cannot attack an enemy while invisible, but he can avoid combat and proceed to the following section as if he had been the victor.	30
PARALYSIS	Causes the total paralysis of a single enemy for sufficient time to allow Fire*Wolf to escape to the next section.	30
POISON NEEDLE	Shoots a poison needle into any single enemy within combat range. On a roll of 4+ on a die, the enemy is immune, otherwise the needle is fatal.	25
RESURRECTION	Only use when Fire*Wolf is killed; it returns him to the start of the current section. Enemies do not heal. All new stats must be rolled for Fire*Wolf himself.	50
RETRACE	Allows Fire*Wolf to return to any section he has previously visited and to proceed with his adventure from there. Note that his LIFE POINTS or POWER are not restored.	20
TIMEWARP	Causes time to return to the beginning of the current section, restoring any LIFE POINTS lost following that point.	10
XENOPHOBIA	Causes a single opponent to feel such fear that they deal -5 damage.	15

Oof, my brains.

Let's start with Invisibility. It is a 'win fight' spell with continuity problems (in the case that you use it to 'evade' a plot person whose death is important). Paralysis is the same thing at the same cost except it only works on a single enemy, but there's no indication you ever actually fight more than one thing at a time, so it's completely redundant, I guess just in case you FFR Invis.

With two chances to cast 'win fight,' it is not clear why you'd cast any of the various 'make fight easier' spells, like ARMOUR, FIREBALL, POISON NEEDLE, or XENOPHOBIA. At least the damage mitigators have some value if you want to stay in the fight to top up your LP with your demon sword.

Then there's the time stuff, which is actually pretty good. TIMEWARP is cool, it gives you a do-over on in-section hazards like fights and the Trial of SPEED. RETRACE requires an annoying amount of record-keeping, but gives some insurance against even multiple-section hazards like the Trial of Fortune and allows crazy in-character timeline exploration. At the same time, that they aren't 100% reliable means you can't just throw all caution to the wind, but you also don't need to wait for the Winds of Magic to tell you when you can use them. There's a lot of player agency in these.

And then, CRYPT. This actually sends you back into the crypts, same references and everything. Fluff-wise, I really like this, it's weird and memorable as a method of sorcery recharge. But the effect is badly incomplete as written. It doesn't tell you to note your current section or anything, so by RAW you re-emerge back in time when you left the crypts for the first time. Also, it's completely unclear on what events restore your POWER vs increase your POWER.

I was curious how CRYPT was handled in later books in the series, so I checked the next book and discovered two things. First, any gain in the Crypts can take you above your max POWER and raises your max to match the new total. This means that by spamming CRYPT and using the sure gain of the logic test, you can set your POWER arbitrarily high. Second, that the CRYPT spell is nonfunctional in Book 2, because it tells you to go to the numbered reference that was the entrance to the Crypts in Book 1, but is a complete non-sequitor in Book 2.

Finally, the book technically ends here. Because we were sent here from a numbered section, and this appendix does not have a numbered section for us to continue on to.

I'm going to hypothesize that these books had neither playtesters nor editors of any kind. What the fucking fucker fuck? I've played a lot of gamebooks that were flawed, but apparently I took a lot for granted on the issues of basic playability. It's not just this latest inexplicable dead-end, it's the bizarrely elaborate math and the 'wait, did I heal?' uncertainty. The thing reads like a first draft.

Anyway, I'm going to try to figure out where we're supposed to go after we get out of the trials. I'll be back when there's some sort of resolution to that.

[angelfromanotherpin]

Welp, there's no obvious 'you get out of the crypts' reference. There is, however, an obvious 'you get out of the valley' reference, so I'll skip us to that. If our time-lich father has any well-done-son-guy words for us, they're lost to a glitch.

A STRANGER IN BELGARDIUM

There were many changes in the Barbarian since he had stumbled from the Wilderness that had shaped so many of his ways. Indeed, to superficial appearances, he scarcely warranted to be called 'Barbarian' at all. Several of the changes were obvious. He no longer strode half-naked through the countryside of Harn. Now he wore robes which, but for his muscular build and the wild look about his eyes, might immediately have marked him as a merchant. The Doomsword remained by his side, locked to him by the bonds of sorcery and Destiny, but now it was well hidden by the sweep and folds of his travelling cloak. He no longer walked, but rode, his mount a jet-black stallion which had been the last gift of his dying father Xandine before the Time Lock crumbled and the accursed castle and enchanted valley finally fell to ruin. And he had gold in his purse for the first time in his life - enough gold to ensure his welcome at any inn or hostelry throughout the land.

But certain of the changes were more subtle. He seemed taller somehow, a change occasioned by the way he held himself. He had always been a handsome man, a man who cut an impressive figure in any company. But now there was added an aura of subtle authority. He no longer seemed, so restless, so nervously watchful like some great beast which had momentarily found itself outside its natural habitat. He looked, in short, like a man who knew who he was and where he was going. Perhaps it was the knowledge of his bloodline, or the sorcerous powers he had earned at the risk of his life. Perhaps it was something given, a subtle donation by Xandine along with horse and gold.Perhaps it was simply the acceptance of his convoluted Destiny, which must lead him first to Belgardium, then, when he succeeded in his quest for Baldar's daughter, to the dark, looming mountains which bordered Harn and gave the only access to the perils of Kaandor. Whatever had caused it, it was there.

He rode through countryside that changed slowly as the days went by. At first signs of human habitation had been rare. Now they became increasingly frequent - cottages, farmsteads, houses. Eventually he reached an inn and realized he need no longer spend another night beneath the stars. More to the point, he could also find specific directions to Belgardium, for until now, while he knew he was travelling in the rough direction of the coastal city, he did not know for certain which were the best roads to follow.

He swung his stallion into the cobbled courtyard, dismounted and called loudly for the landlord. His call was answered by a slim, small weasel of a man with shifty looks who emerged from the interior with an obsequious smile to bid the visitor welcome.

But Fire*Wolf had no eyes for the landlord, for behind him, framed in the doorway, was a burly, black-bearded figure Fire*Wolf recognized instantly. It was Tojar the Slaver. Who knew how many of his companions were inside?

What does Fire*Wolf do now? A swift attack would certainly dispatch Tojar and allow immediate escape. Or our hero might bank on the fact that in his new raiment he would be unrecognizable to this ruffian. The choice, as always, is yours.
• Attack?
• Not?

[MisterDee]

After the whole "you look super different" spiel, I imagine we can trust our disguise and see what's up. Let's not attack.

[Omegonthesane]

Agreed. Revenge can wait.

[angelfromanotherpin]

His head high, Fire*Wolf snapped brusquely to the landlord, 'A bed for the night and a stable for my horse!'

'Of course, good sir. Of course.' The landlord bustled obsequiously, his eyes evaluating the worth of Fire*Wolf's robe.

But Fire*Wolf ignored him and walked directly to the doorway, brushing past Tojar as if he were a serf. The slaver stared at him with a puzzled frown, but made no move to stop him, nor gave any real sign of recognition.

A wave of heat struck Fire*Wolf as he walked into the tavern proper. It was a busy scene. Serving wenches scurried with jugs of ale and plates of food to scrubbed pine tables in a room well filled with customers. These were merchants mainly, with a scattering of soldiers, some florid, quiet men who might have been local farmers and, in a group in one corner, virtually the entire slaver band. But where were their charges? Where were the slaves?

No one paid the slightest attention as Fire*Wolf pushed towards an empty table in a secluded corner well away from the slaver band. Although he seemed to have passed by Tojar without recognition, he had no wish to press his luck. He had, after all, killed one of their number and while he was, in looks, a far cry from the half-naked Barbarian they had captured, he was under no illusions as to the outcome if they recognised him.

A young girl of no more than sixteen appeared beside him, dressed in the apron and kirtle of a serving wench. 'Bring me ale,' Fire*Wolf told her, 'and food. Then prepare me a room for the night.'

'Yes, sir.'

As he ate, he watched the slaver party from the corner of his eye. They were drinking heavily, growing noisy and soon, it seemed, were destined to lapse into a stupor. Fire*Wolf caught the eye of the girl who had served him. When she returned to his table, he asked quietly, 'Those men in the corner- who are they?'

'Northerners,' the girl said shortly. Young though she was, she seemed intelligent. The expression on her face suggested she was less than enamoured with the bearded men.

'Merchants?'

She shook her head, but then added, 'Of a sort. They trade in human merchandise.' She stared at Fire*Wolf. 'Are they friends of yours?'

He shrugged. 'I engage in different trade.' He was about to ask more questions when the girl was called away. By the time he had finished his meal, the landlord reappeared to tell him that his room was ready. Fire*Wolf went to it directly.

It was small, but clean and the bed looked more inviting than anything he had seen in months. He undressed quickly, left the Doomsword within reach beside the bed and fell almost at once into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. He awoke to a startled gasp, the Doomsword in his hand. The room was dark, but moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the frightened face of the serving girl bent over him, the gently singing tip of the Doomsword at her throat.

Fire*Wolf controlled the blade with an effort. Its lust for blood was growing stronger, as was its power. Had he taken only moments longer to awaken, it would have drunk of the girl's soul using his unconscious hand. He set the sword down and stared at the frightened girl. 'What are you doing in my room?' he asked softly, but with an anger that was partly directed towards himself.

She swallowed. 'I came to warn you.'

Fire*Wolf sat up. 'Warn me?'

'The men you asked me about - the Northerners who trade slaves. They know you. I think they plan to kill you.'

'So!' Fire*Wolf said. He swung his feet out of bed and reached for his robe. The girl's eyes widened at the rippling musculature of his body, but he ignored her. As he dressed, he asked, 'Do you know when?'

'Tonight. That's why I came to warn you. My father has agreed to the plan because they promised him your gold, so there is no one to aid you.'

'Your father?'

'The landlord.'

Fire*Wolf nodded, abruptly noting hints of a family resemblance.

'What are you going to do?' she asked.

Fire*Wolf did not answer. He was considering two possibilities.

One possibility is flight, and the obvious one at that. With the girl to help him, there is no doubt that Fire* Wolf can make good his escape. But the other route, in keeping with his deepest instincts, is to fight. Sorcery, if he can bring himself to use it, would make him a match for the whole slaver band. Which decision will he reach?
• Flee?
• Fight?

[Omegonthesane]

I did say revenge can wait not that revenge can be abandoned. And they nearly got a teenager killed by a demon sword too.

Fight.

[SGamerz]

Fight

[angelfromanotherpin]

'No!' Fire*Wolf exclaimed. To run from such men is to run forever.' He pushed past the startled girl, flung the door wide and hurled himself down the wooden stairs, the Doomsword howling exultantly in his hand.

The slaver band, black-bearded and black-robed as he remembered them, were in the tavern below, drinking ale by the light of oil lamps. His sudden, wild appearance took them completely by surprise, so that three were dead beneath the onslaught of the Doomsword before any had time to react. Of the remainder in the room, two were unarmed and one drunk so that they fled screaming in alarm.

But two remained, who fell upon Fire*Wolf like Furies. And even as they attacked, the landlord appeared from a back room, sword in hand.

So Fire*Wolf's attack has not proved so rash as it might. But three enemies remain to be dispatched.

It's been a while, but I think 'howling exultantly' is a direct Stormbringer rip. Anyway, here's another piece of unnecessary ambiguity: there's no clue to handling multiple opponents. I can only surmise from the combat rules, which assume one-on-one, that we fight them in series. Unfortunately, our willing-to-use-sorcery check failed.

Score	Fire*Wolf	Northern Slaver 1	Northern Slaver 2	Landlord]
Strength	88	60	60	55
Speed	48	55	55	30
Stamina	80	50	50	65
Courage	56	40	40	45
Skill	4	40	40	45
Luck	24	30	30	40
Charm	48	8	8	50
Attraction	88	30	30	45
Life Points	349	283	283	335

(I can just about buy the slavers having that much Skill, but wtf with the Landlord?)

Oo, actual non-deterministic first-strike. Fire*Wolf has a net +3, rolls a 6, slaver rolls a 7, Fire*Wolf goes first. Also, the text doesn't give the slavers any weapons.
Round 1: Fire*Wolf *Flare *5, fails. Swing (drain: 339) 6, miss. NS1 swings 8+4, hits for 50+7, we're at 282.
Round 2: Fire*Wolf swings (drain: 272) 7, hits for 0+11+20, he's at 252, we're at 303. NS1 swings 11+4, hits for 80+7, we're at 216.
Round 3: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 206) 7, hits for 0+11+20, he's at 221, we're at 237. NS1 swings 7+4, hits for 40+7, we're at 174.
Round 4: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 164) 8, hits for 10+11+20, he's at 180, we're at 205. NS1 swings 7+4, hits for 40+7, we're at 158.
Round 5: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 148) 9, hits for 20+11+20, he's at 129, we're at 199. NS1 swings 7+4, hits for 40+7, we're at 152.
Round 6: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 142) 12, hits for 50+11+20, he's at 48, we're at 233. NS1 is tired.
Round 7: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 223) 7, hits for 0+11+20, he's at 17, we're at 240. NS1 is tired.
Round 8: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 230) 8, hits for 10+11+20, Northern Slaver's defeated, we're at 247.

Score	Fire*Wolf	Northern Slaver 2	Landlord]
Strength	88	60	55
Speed	48	55	30
Stamina	80	50	65
Courage	56	40	45
Skill	4	40	45
Luck	24	30	40
Charm	48	8	50
Attraction	88	30	45
Life Points	247	283	335

I'm going to track Fire*Wolf's fatigue between fights, give the multiple enemies some meaning.

Fire*Wolf rolls 6+3(net) for first strike, NS2 rolls 8.
Round 1: *Flare* 8, failed. Fire*Wolf is tired! NS2 swings 8+4, hits for 50+7, we're at 190.
Round 2: Fire*Wolf is tired. NS2 swings 7+4, hits for 40+7, we're at 143.
Round 3: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 133) 7, hits for 0+11+20, he's at 252, we're at 164. NS2 swings 7+4, hits for 40+7, we're at 117.
Round 4: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 107) 7, hits for 0+11+20, he's at 221, we're at 138. NS2 swings 8+4, hits for 50+7, we're at 81.
Round 5: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 71) 10, hits for 30+11+20, he's at 160, we're at 132. NS2 swings 3+4, hits for 0+7, we're at 125.
Round 6: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 115) 12, hits for 50+11+20, he's at 79, we're at 196. NS2 is tired.
Round 7: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 186) 5, miss. NS2 is tired.
Round 8: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 176) 11, hits for 40+11+20, he's at 8, we're at 247. NS2 swings, 6+4, hits for 30+7, we're at 210.
Round 9: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 200) 8, hits for 10+11+20, Northern Slaver's defeated, we're at 208.

Score	Fire*Wolf	Landlord
Strength	88	55
Speed	48	30
Stamina	80	65
Courage	56	45
Skill	4	45
Luck	24	40
Charm	48	50
Attraction	88	45
Life Points	208	335

Fire*Wolf strikes first with no roll needed.
Round 1: *Flare* 8, fails. Fire*Wolf swings (drain 198) 8, hits for 10+11+20, he's at 294, we're at 239. Landlord swings 10+4, hits for 70+6+10, we're at 153.
Round 2: Fire*Wolf is tired! Landlord swings 10+4, hits for 50+6+10, we're at 67.
Round 3: Fire*Wolf is tired. Landlord swings 7+4, hits for 40+6+10, we're at 11.
Round 4: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 1) 9, hits for 20+11+20, he's at 243, we're at 52. Landlord swings 5+4, hits for 20+6+10, we're at 16.
Round 5: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 6) 11, hits for 40+11+20, he's at 172, we're at 77. Landlord swings 7+4, hits for 40+6+10, we're at 21.
Round 6: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 11) 8, hits for 10+11+20, he's at 131, we're at 52. Landlord swings 6+4, hits for 30+6+10, we're at 6.

Shit, we're doomed to be drained out by our own demon sword... except that I forgot the Healing Stone we got back in the slave caravan, because its effects are (usually) so penny-ante as to not be worth remembering. Retconning the stone's healing over the past many rounds gets us back the full 50 LP it holds. We're at 56.

Round 7: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 46) 6, miss. Landlord is tired.
Round 8: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 36) 9, hits for 20+11+20, he's at 80, we're at 87. Landlord is tired.
Round 9: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 77) 10, hits for 30+11+20, he's at 19, we're at 138. Landlord swings 10+4, hits for 70+6+10, we're at 52.
Round 10: Fire*Wolf swings (drain 42) 8, hits for 10+11+20, Landlord's defeated, we're at 61.

Well, even if it wasn't as close as it sometimes looked, that was a narrow thing. With spells, we would have had all kinds of options, but without... our sword&sorcery self was nearly beaten to death by unarmed goons, and even more nearly finished off by the strangely-badass innkeep. Anyway, with nobody to tell me otherwise, I'm counting that as the three fights it was and boosting Fire*Wolf's SKILL by 3.

Fire*Wolf cleaned his sword amid the carnage. Behind him he heard a soft footfall on the stair, but when he turned it was the landlord's daughter, Landa, eyes wide in horror at the sight before her. Frowning, Fire*Wolf muttered, 'I am sorry about your father. He attacked me and I had no alternative.'

To his surprise, she shrugged. 'He was my step-father only and an evil man. You have done me a service in taking his life.'

'But what will become of you?'

'I have the inn. I am young, but I have helped him run it for four years and I can certainly run it alone now. What of you, Merchant, if you are a merchant...?'

Fire*Wolf ignored the unspoken question. 'I have business to attend to. First, the slaves these men took must be freed. You know where they are held?'

'In the stables at the back,' Landa told him. 'I shall release them at once.'

'And I,' said Fire*Wolf, 'shall clean up this chaos.'

An interesting aside to his destined adventure and one that, fortuitously, ended cleanly. But now Fire*Wolf has more important things to do.

Dawn broke to find Fire*Wolf already on the road, gripped by a curious, instinctive sense of urgency. His stallion too seemed unusually nervous, for the great horse plunged and snorted as if threatening to unseat
him at every turn.

The road was deserted at this hour - on reflection, he realized he had seen amazingly few travellers at any time since he left the inn and his old friends the slavers. This was curious, since he knew now that he was approaching close to the coastal city of Belgardium, a huge population centre and the focus of a great many trade routes. There should surely have been many more travellers by now: merchant caravans, pilgrims, mercenaries, mendicant friars, fortune hunters .. . the whole ragbag of wanderers for whom the great port would act as a lodestone. Yet
there were none. He might have been the only soul left in all of Harn if he were to judge solely by the company he discovered on the road.

An errant thought prompted him to wonder if he might have lost his way. But he had maps now, provided by the Wizard Xandine who claimed to be his father; and those maps had proven themselves quite accurate so far. Landmark after landmark had appeared exactly as predicted. Even now, the road was climbing as the map indicated it should. Soon he would top the rise and look down over the whole of the ancient crater in which Belgardium now nestled as it hugged the natural inlet on the coastline which had determined its destiny as a major trading centre.

The stallion reared abruptly, then stopped stock still, quivering. Fire*Wolf too froze into immobility, listening. The beast was not by nature temperamental and he realized something was disturbing it greatly. With ears much keener than his own, it had, perhaps, picked up a sound.

And in a moment, Fire*Wolf heard it too. The distant clink of harness, a rumbling like the first hint of an earthquake; and finally, chillingly, the faint sound of sorrow, like the ghastly chorus of souls in torment. It was this latter noise which had disturbed the stallion. As it increased in volume, the great black horse grew increasingly nervous until Fire*Wolf was forced to dismount and stand beside its head, whispering in its ear to calm it down.

He was stood thus, right hand hovering habitually within reach of the Doomsword, when in the cold grey light of morning, the first intimation of a great disaster topped the rise ahead.

But what? No choice to make here. Simply hurry to find out what Fire* Wolf saw.

They came in their scores, their hundreds, their thousands; ragged, bleeding, stumbling men, women, children, their pitiful possessions piled on wooden carts, some pushed feebly by the people themselves, some drawn by mules or horses. There were young and old here, rich and poor, columns of wounded soldiery held partially together by some faint memory of discipline, merchants once sleek with wealth, now stripped of their old finery, a scattering of aristocrats with no more than their noble bearing to distinguish them now from the common herd. There were men and women half-naked, shivering in the chill morning air, warriors with broken weapons and suppurating wounds, priests stumbling as they told their beads and mumbled prayers to their uncaring gods.

They held to the road with the grim determination of marching ants, but there was no cohesion here, no purpose. They stumbled, staggered and those who fell were not helped to their feet again, but lay and rose of their own accord, or did not rise at all. There was fear on every face, from the youngest child to the most venerable ancient; and of them all, the priests seemed most fearful. Exhaustion was plainly written on every face, yet they hurried, dear gods, how they hurried, pushing themselves beyond the outmost limits of human endurance as if nothing else mattered but movement onwards. And out of this fearful, ghastly caravan there arose a muted wail of anguish as its members voiced their last remaining protest to the heavens.

'Hold!' Fire*Wolf called and was ignored. The stumbling figures streamed past him as if he were no more than a milestone on the road. None turned to look towards him. None acknowledged his presence in any way. 'What has happened?' Fire*Wolf shouted in mounting alarm. Who were these people? Whence did they come? What disaster had befallen them? He stepped forward directly into the path of an old, frail priest, caught his arm, dragged him to a halt.

And only when he looked into those pain-filled eyes did Fire*Wolf realize that the man was blind. Some instinct made him swing his head and instantly the suspicion was confirmed. All were blind. Every one. Men, women, children — all sightless, following some inner vision or fleeing from some dark nightmare with orbs like cooked albumen set into the sockets of their skulls.

'What happened?' Fire*Wolf asked the priest, more gently this time. The old man muttered like one far gone in delirium. For a moment Fire*Wolf thought he would receive no lucid answer. Then some semblance of ancient faith gave the priest strength enough to answer and he enunciated a single word which encompassed a universe of meaning:

'Spawn!'

'The Demonspawn?' asked Fire*Wolf.

'In the night they attacked Belgardium. The city is in ruins.'

Stunned, Fire*Wolf released his arm. The priest stumbled back into the wailing crowd and staggered onwards in the communal flight from the disaster. The Spawn had attacked Belgardium? But it was impossible! Xandine had warned him there was little time, but promised there was some. The Harkaan could not move until the mountain passes were clear of the winter snows and two full weeks or more remained before the seasonal thaw. Yet the Demonspawn had come and laid waste to a city. How?

In an instant of realization, Fire*Wolf felt his Destiny crash in upon him like a rockfall. Where was his obligation to the hermit Baldar now? Was Yalena one of these blind refugees? Or was she dead, lying broken in the ruins of Belgardium, beyond help or rescue? And could he even afford to consider Yalena now? She was no more than a name to him, a vision in the mind of her hermit father who could not know for certain if she were even in Belgardium when the Spawn attacked.

What did he, Fire*Wolf, owe Baldar anyway? The man had saved his life, but that seemed an eternity ago in another place and did not the early appearance of the Spawn far outweigh all other considerations? Should he not now forget this hermit's daughter and concentrate his whole attention on his more important task?

Convoluted are the threads of Fire*Wolf's Destiny. But what to do? Should he continue on Belgardium to seek a corpse? Or should he attempt to discover more about the Spawn attack by questioning these blind refugees?

• Belgardium?
• Questions?

[Omegonthesane]

Normally I'd say questions, but normally questions isn't framed as "abandon original quest".

Belgardium.

[SGamerz]

The way the choices are phrased is indeed weird, but I still think getting more info shouldn't close off our original quest.

Questions.

[Darth Rabbitt]

I agree with SGamerz. Questions.

[angelfromanotherpin]

Fire*Wolf began to run after the priest he had stopped, then changed his mind. The man was almost beyond rational speech as, it seemed, must be the majority of these people. Thus he waited, his eyes searching the throng in the faint hope of finding one strong heart who might be less affected by the horror than the others.

And eventually the hope was justified. Something about the walk of one — a woman in her thirties, sightless as the rest, ragged, hair matted and face covered in dried blood—suggested she might have withstood the agony a little better than the rest. So she had. Some spark of survival instinct caused her to draw a dagger at his voice and only her blindness, and his own quick reflexes, prevented an unpleasant wound. But though she was willing enough to talk when she realized Fire*Wolf was no enemy, there was little she could tell him.

The city had been attacked by night, without warning. The first the citizens of Belgardium had known about it was when the destruction started. Afterwards it was learned that every man in the outlying forts was dead; but how they were killed, no one knew. Blindness was endemic, caused at a sweep by some sorcery applied by the Spawn. So too was disease, a wasting symptom much like leprosy, but almost instantaneous in its manifestation. This ill might well have destroyed the population as the Spawn had destroyed most of the city's buildings, had not so very many proved immune.

But there was no immunity to the blindness, nor to the savage rending of the demon claws. All had been nightmare, confusion. And she knew nothing of anyone named Yalena.

After an hour spent questioning those in the great horde of refugees who could still answer him, Fire*Wolf finally admitted defeat. To hope to find news of a single woman from a vast city amongst such as these was to hope for the impossible. If he were to keep his word to Baldar, he must proceed to the city itself: without hope, admittedly, but with determination to do all he could to fulfil his pledge.

Besides, an errant whisper in his mind reminded him, the city was where he might find some useful clues to the nature of the Spawn.

Thus was the decision made for Fire* Wolf by force of circumstance. Go with him now to Belgardium.

It was with a guilty feeling of relief that Fire* Wolf left the tragic caravan behind. But the relief was shortlived. Streams of refugees continued to emerge from the direction of the stricken city, most of them blind like those he had first met, others sighted but covered in sores as if stricken by some horrendous plague. Still others were crippled or reduced by the horror of their experience to walking vegetables, mindless of everything but the need to place distance between themselves and their nightmare.

Eventually Fire*Wolf abandoned the road, too sickened by all he had seen to endure more of the horror, and took to the high ground. Although prompted by emotional necessity, it did in fact shorten his journey. By the rising of the second sun at noon, he was on a lonely hillock, silhouetted like a sentinel of doom upon his black mount, staring down on a sight which tore his soul despite the mental preparation of his meeting with the refugees.

Beneath him lay the once proud city of Belgardium. Largest port and second largest population centre in the entire realm, as the slavers had told him during his captivity. He had not known Belgardium, but it took no more than a passing glance to convince him that it was - or had been - well sited, well fortified for defence. On one side it was guarded by the Tranquil Sea, on the other by the high hills which he himself had climbed. The approaches were open and easy for the trading caravans which must have formed the city's lifeblood, but there were areas where the passes narrowed, effectively slowing the approach of any army. The fortifications, while discreet, were superbly placed: forts dotted hither and yon in strategic locations and a wall so well built of massive stone that it seemed it must endure throughout eternity.

Yet within that wall - which still stood, apparently unbreached, apparently undamaged — the city lay a smoking ruin, building after building razed to rubble as if some monstrous giant had swept a huge hand through a toy town. Only towards the seaboard did any structures remain; and even these were pitifully few.

From this distance, Fire*Wolf felt he was staring at a massive funeral pyre. He could almost smell the stench of roasting corpses. All gates lay open and
through them poured the blind, the wounded, the frightened, the desperate, seeking relief in flight to gods knew where. The battle - if it had been a battle - was now over. There was no indication of an enemy, no sight nor sign of the demonic Spawn. Something had attacked in darkness and laid waste to a vast urban area, then retreated, disappeared, as suddenly as it had come, leaving only horror and desolation in its wake.

There were survivors aplenty - far too many of them if the truth be told, for death would have been more merciful than the fate of these blinded and diseased inhabitants. No wonder the Lord Xandine had stressed the gravity and urgency of the situation. If this was the nature of the Demonspawn, they were the greatest blight on the face of the planet that it was possible to
imagine.

Was Baldar's daughter still in this stricken city? Or was she dead or fled with the streams of refugees? He had no means of telling, but he had given his word to the hermit that he would seek the girl in Belgardium and he meant at least to try before he turned the might of his new-found sorcery against the creatures, and their masters, who had wrought this mindless, terrifying
destruction. Grimly, Fire*Wolf wheeled his horse and began to make his way downwards to the dying city.

And here you must take a slightly different course. For it is no longer possible to chronicle Fire*Wolf's immediate destiny in any genuinely sequential manner. Opposite you will find a plan of Belgardium - or what is left of Belgardium. This is the ruined city Fire*Wolf entered and you must use it to decide what areas he chooses to visit. Be assured that while the Demonspawn seem to have withdrawn, there may still be substantial dangers here. But be assured too that our hero will follow his quest to success or death. The key attached to the plan will direct your steps to the relevant sections once you have made your decision about his movements.

And so the device we've seen in so many of the GrailQuest books returns.

[Omegonthesane]

Do the eight in numerical order.

Of the location numbering not the page numbers. So 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

[Darth Rabbitt]

I like that plan.

[angelfromanotherpin]

Location #1, the side path.

The road branched, its main route leading to the city gates, a minor offshoot driving straight across the promontory. Fire*Wolf urged his stallion forward with caution and kept one hand within easy reaching distance of the Doomsword. At times like these, only a fool proceeded without caution.

He was approaching a Lighttower, a building which must have been of considerable importance to Belgardium before the city had been destroyed. It had obviously served a twin purpose of warning ships away from the rocks below and guiding them into the safe harbour of Belgardium itself. It would, of course, be useless now. Belgardium was no more. Only a remnant remained, mute token to the awesome power of the Demonspawn. But if the Lighttower had been spared, perhaps those who tended it had also survived and might furnish him with important information. The difficulty would be to convince them he was not an enemy. Having witnessed the destruction of their city, they must now be ready to see agents of the Spawn everywhere.

As he came within earshot of the tower, he reined in his mount and hailed the inhabitants loudly. There was no reply. Cautiously, Fire*Wolf rode closer. The building was solidly made in stone, set into the bedrock of the cliff face, and gave no indication of Demonspawn attack. But nor did it give indication of anyone within. There were no guards and the entrance door was only partly closed. No light shone from the summit of the tower, but this was only to be expected during daylight hours.

Fire*Wolf called again without result, then dismounted and tethered his horse. He moved towards the door, pushed it open with the hilt of the Doomsword and peered cautiously inside. The interior was dingy, its walls hung with ropes, buoys and other nautical equipment. A stone-built, open spiral staircase led upwards to the tower and downwards into what must be some form of basement hollowed from the bedrock. Fire*Wolf called a third time and his voice reverberated hollowly in the confined space.

But what should he do? He has three options.
• Climb the spiral staircase and explore the upper regions?
• Descend that same staircase in order to explore the basemet?
• Return to the map and pick another destination?

[Darth Rabbitt]

Start with the basement.

[Omegonthesane]

Sure, start at the bottom and work our way up.

[angelfromanotherpin]

The stairway rose in a spiral a short distance to leave him in what was obviously a storage room. Near the bottom of the stairwell Were sacks of foodstuffs. The remainder of the chamber was cluttered with crates, packing cases and equipment similar to that hanging on the walls above. There was even a small wooden dinghy set on chocks near the far wall.

'Hello?' Fire*Wolf called. In the silence that followed he thought he heard a sound. Frowning, he stepped forward, then stopped.

Stopped in indecision. The sound was small, almost certainly a mouse. Should he investigate! If there was anyone in the Lighttower, he had no wish to persuade them he was a thief, as they might do if they discovered him rummaging through the basement.
• Investigate the noise?
• Ignore it and explore the upper regions?
• Return to the map and try a new area?

[SGamerz]

Investigate.

[Darth Rabbitt]

Investigate.

[angelfromanotherpin]

The noise appeared to be coming from one of the largest crates. As Fire*Wolf approached, he could see the lid was slightly ajar. At once his Wilderness instincts were aroused, so that he drew the Doomsword and moved silent as a cat to throw the case open. With a roar he swung the sword and twisted to look inside... in time to see the thin tail of a mouse disappearing
through a small hole in the side.

Something of an anticlimax, but then a hero's life is not all aggression.
• Explore the upper region? √
• Return to the map and choose another area?

I'm just assuming that exploration will continue until some obvious peril or cost rears its head.

He emerged eventually on to an open battlement which commanded a clear view of the ruined city and the Tranquil Sea. The two lay in stark contrast before his troubled gaze, so that after only moments, he found an open doorway to the huge lantern chamber and went inside gratefully. The chamber was a marvel of sophisticated engineering and Fire*Wolf's Barbarian soul was briefly in awe of the linked banks of lanterns and their communal reservoir of oil deep enough to drown a dozen men. His eyes swept across the complex of interlinking cogs and levers which drove the massive shutters around the lamps themselves.

But for all its marvellous machinery, for all the indications that the tower had been well tended, there were no people here. He might have left then, had his eye not fallen on an open journal resting beside a quill and inks on a small table near the door. He picked it up and began to read with the studious concentration of a Barbarian ill-versed in arts divorced from combat. But for all his difficulty, he realized swiftly enough that he had found a prize. For the journal was a written record of the Demonspawn attack.

It had been utterly unexpected. In the spring, the State astrologers had forewarned of the coming of the Spawn, but the experience of centuries confirmed that safety was assured until the snows melted in the mountain passes. Thus life went on for a time with the nervous appearance of normality — although the journal remarked that many of the Kingdom's rich
and powerful families had taken ship in face of the threat. For the common people, no such luxury was possible and life went on in the desperate hope that the Ruling Council might somehow halt the Spawn; and in the certain expectation that if doomsday lay around the corner, there was at least a little time before the corner need be turned.

Yet with the passes blocked, the Spawn had come to raze Belgardium. The writer of the journal was evidently a keeper of the Lighttower's lamps. He had been awake and alert when the leprous luminescence of the Spawn greenships had appeared in the night sky above Belgardium's protecting hills. Wave after wave had come in the eerie silence of a nightmare, breaking ranks only briefly as some of their number settled on the outlying forts while the remainder swooped with slow deliberation on the city itself. There had been no time to raise an alarm, no time to escape, no time for anything but observation...

Fire*Wolf set down the journal, sickened. The vivid description of what happened next sent waves of nausea rolling from his stomach to settle in his throat. But with the nausea came anger, a fury at these creatures who played god with human life. If ever he had had a doubt about the mantle placed upon his shoulders by Lord Xandine, that doubt was now resolved. No task held greater urgency, greater importance, than the extermination of these vermin.

He was on the point of turning away when a final entry caught his eye. With the city in ruins, its inhabitants dead, dying, blinded or diseased, the greenships had taken off in precision formation and flown away northwards; all but one. One remained. While the writer did not know why, he did know where. The greenship remained somewhere near the great Temple of Belgardium.

With a glint of grim determination in his eyes, Fire*Wolf left the Lighttower and remounted his horse.

Return to the map and choose Fire* Wolf's next area to explore.

I can continue with the 2+ progression, but maybe you'd like to amend it to account for the clue you just got?

[Omegonthesane]

Pretty sure that means put the number that we know is the great Temple of Belgardium at the bottom of the list because otherwise we'll miss a plot coupon without which victory is impossible or some shit like that.

[Darth Rabbitt]

Pretty sure that means put the number that we know is the great Temple of Belgardium at the bottom of the list because otherwise we'll miss a plot coupon without which victory is impossible or some shit like that.

Agreed.

[angelfromanotherpin]

On to #2, the single large structure.

The building, he quickly discovered, was a fort - and a well-run fort from every indication. It had apparently been established to keep order in the dockland district and staffed with soldiers trained to deal with trouble efficiently and swiftly. But though the structure was sound, with no indication whatsoever of attack or any other form of violence, the fort was empty.

Walking through the empty chambers, Fire*Wolf experienced the nervous apprehension of a man trapped in a haunted house. There were signs of habitation everywhere - a late supper for twenty men half-eaten on a dining table; lighted lamps, their wicks well trimmed; scrolls showing a ship's manifest, neatly laid out on a desk; bunks with bedclothes turned back as if the sleepers had but recently awakened... all the signs of people without the people themselves. For while he searched diligently, he could not find a living soul.

In a way this building was even more disturbing than the ruinous destruction of the remainder of the city. Had the warriors awakened and rushed out to fight the Spawn? It was possible, yet their weapons remained in the armoury. Had the Spawn entered silently to murder every one? That too was possible, but then where were the corpses?

In one room, Fire* Wolf found a half-written letter which he read with the difficulty of one brought up in the Wilderness. It was a love letter from a soldier to his wife, living, it seemed, in a village some distance from Belgardium. The words were gentle, carrying no hint of danger; yet the letter ended in mid-sentence, as if the writer had been suddenly disturbed.

Depressed, Fire*Wolf left the building.

Return to the map and choose another area to explore.

Next, #3, the larger cluster.

The buildings were huge. They towered above Fire*Wolf undisturbed by the attacks of the Spawn as if they were prepared to stand like grubby sentinels for an eternity.

The doorways were enormous, barred, locked but now unguarded. Fire*Wolf stopped by a convenient window-slit in the nearest of the buildings and peered inside. If he had not already guessed it, even a passing glimpse confirmed that these were the great coastal warehouses of Belgardium, packed with the cargoes of a thousand ships.

What riches were here for the taking! Yet the Spawn had not taken them, had totally ignored them in fact Moving from one warehouse to another, Fire*Wolf quickly satisfied himself that none had been disturbed, although in two of them, he found dead guards collapsed at their posts near the doors. How the men had died was impossible to say, for there was no obvious wound or mark. But they had died in horror to judge from the expressions on their faces.

He tried each door in turn and found each perfectly secure. So far as he could tell, no window or shutter had been broken either. The entire dockland, once the bustling hub of trade and transport, was now utterly deserted. Whatever he had hoped to find, he would not find it here.

Return to your map and investigate another area.

Next, #4, the smaller cluster.

Here was the tragedy of all Belgardium in miniature. As Fire*Wolf approached, he knew immediately he had stumbled on a freak circumstance, for unique in all the ruined city, here stood a handful of artisan dwellings, totally undamaged in the attack.

But though the houses still stood, the disaster of Belgardium had overtaken their inhabitants. The first door he tried opened easily, but he halted in the doorway, stopped by the sickly sweet odour of death and disease. In the small room within lay a whole family, all dead. Their corpses clearly showed signs of the foul malady he had already seen among the refugees.

Fire*Wolf backed away, closing the door quietly behind him. It was almost as much as he could do, but he forced himself to examine the interior of another house. Here the scene was not so horrifying. Although there were three corpses, none carried the marks of disease. He left this house too and was walking towards another when the arrow struck him in the shoulder.

And removed a double dice roll of LIFE POINTS into the bargain.
• Attempt to close with this hidden assailant?
• Flee, return to the map, and choose another section?

[MisterDee]

Rip the spine out of the filthy bow-using coward.