The Gaming Den Forum Index The Gaming Den
Welcome to the Gaming Den.
 
 FAQFAQ   SearchSearch   MemberlistMemberlist   UsergroupsUsergroups   RegisterRegister 
 ProfileProfile   Log in to check your private messagesLog in to check your private messages   Log inLog in 

Google
 Search WWW   Search tgdmb.com 
[Let's Play] GrailQuest 1: The Castle of Darkness
Goto page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
 
Post new topic   Reply to topic    The Gaming Den Forum Index -> In The Trenches
View previous topic :: View next topic  
Author Message
SGamerz
Duke


Joined: 16 Jun 2014
Posts: 2297

PostPosted: Fri Sep 01, 2017 11:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Thaluikhain wrote:
What happens if he runs out of firefingers before killing us, if they were to all miss, say?


In the absence of specific rules in the text, I'd always assume that the opponent fights by the default rules - roll 6 or better to hit with no damage modifiers.

Rolling for Initiative.....

Ansalom rolls 5.
Pip rolls 2+3 = 5.

Since it's a draw, I think we roll again.

Ansalom rolls 6!
Pip rolls 5+3 = 8! Pip goes first!

COMBAT LOG:
Click here to see the hidden message (It might contain spoilers)


Quote:
As you stand triumphant in the mayhem of the shattered Throne Room, a small sound behind the throne attracts your attention. You investigate. Nothing there. But there was definitely a noise. You examine the wall. No need for an experienced adventurer and Wizard-slayer like yourself to roll dice this time: you find a secret door! As the granite slab slides back, you know for certain the steps downwards can only lead to one place--the prison where the wicked Wizard (now defunct) was holding brave Queen Guinevere.

You've done it, Pip. You've succeeded in your mission. You're a first-class, five-star adventurer. Now turn to page 167.


Click here to see the hidden message (It might contain spoilers)


PIP TRIUMPHANT
Quote:
A raven, wheeling high above the cornfields to the south of Glastonbury Tor, started at the sudden eruption of banners from the towers of Camelot. The King's insignia was there; and the battle standard of the Table Round; and the colours of every major earl, duke and knight. The national flags of Wessex and Sussex and Essex were there and even a Roman standard (no longer taking any real pride of place since Arthur sent the Romans packing). But most important of all, the Queen's own golden pennant was there, flying higher even than the King's insignia. That would have been very strange in any other circumstances, but even the meanest, rudest peasant knew what it meant now... and rejoiced.

The raven, which, in the manner of its kind, had been on a search for grains, turned at the sight and flew strongly north to circle over Camelot itself.

What a sight below! There had never been such a bustle, such excitement. In the castle itself, there was a full turn-out of the Guard, armour polished to mirror brightness and every man standing rigid as a statue at his post. Around them, servants scurried to and fro like ants, a constant stream into and out of the main banquet hall in obvious preparation for a feast: and a great feast at that, to judge from the foodstuffs and wines that were being carried in.

There was, too, considerable activity at the lists, as if the fields were being prepared for a joust, or even a full tournament. The stands were being decorated with streamers and bunting, the great horses were being led from the stables and gently exercised before receiving their padded accoutrements and trappings. Squires were busily polishing lances and maces and swords as if the very future of the realm depended on their brightness.

From somewhere deep within the castle, muffled and distorted by the thickness of the walls, strange sounds rose up like animals in pain, clear indication that the minstrels were tuning up their instruments in preparation for some form of grand musical entertainment. Lutes, flutes, harps and bandores competed with the bells and drums of the percussion section in a cacophony that did not sound as if it would ever achieve harmony.

And while all this was going on in Camelot itself, there was even greater activity on the approach road to the castle. A vast crowd lined the edges for nearly half a mile, kept off the road itself only by the constant attention of harassed stewards running hither and thon to push back a craning farmer, a curious goodwife, or shoo away the herds of urchins who danced through the legs of their elders on to the forbidden path.

At the main gates, the drawbridge had been lowered, the portcullis raised. Two lines of trumpeters, dressed in their gayest raiment, were at attention, their instruments half raised and gleaming golden in the sunshine, by the approach.

On the drawbridge itself, resplendent in full armour, the great sword Excalibur at his side, seated upon a magnificent dappled charger, was the broad, brown-bearded figure of the King. Ranged behind him, row upon row, in full dress armour, visors raised, plumes dancing in the breeze, was the full complement of Knights of the Order of the Table Round, tense, joyous, expectation written on every face.

Suddenly, distantly, the crowd began to cheer, a sound that swelled and grew and did not stop, but rolled closer and still closer like a great sea wave. The King moved forward and, forgetting royal dignity, half stood in his stirrups, the better to see.

A convoy of Cardinals, robed in the Roman purple, emerged from the castle to take their places by the King's side; and behind them the brown-robed, bare-footed monks from the Abbey.

The cheering grew louder, closer. As if in response to some hidden signal, the trumpeters raised their instruments to their lips. And waited. The cheer became a roar, a wild exuberance, a joyous call to the deep blue skies of heaven. The fanfare began, brassily unnerving even the great war horses by its volume. King Arthur's patience broke and he urged his mount forward.

At that instant, around the last bend of the approach road, there came Queen Guinevere herself, a trifle bedraggled, to be sure, but proud and upright, seated on the back of a nervous, prancing pony. And leading the pony was a small, slight figure dressed in a jerkin of dragonhide and carrying a broadsword which, but for its size, might have been a mirror image of the King's own.

'Guinevere!' the crowd roared. 'Guinevere!' And then, as if at some secret, hidden signal: 'Pip! Pip! Pip!'

As if startled by the sudden tumult, the raven wheeled away abruptly and flew south again to land eventually on a rocky outcrop near a cave mouth in a cliff beside the shoreline. There it waited, preening itself occasionally and keeping a wary eye out for hawks.

Soon, along the shingle path towards the cave mouth, there approached an extremely beautiful young woman with long hair, black as jet, and the walk of an aristocrat. The raven watched her beadily, bobbing its head and hopping, but making no attempt to fly away.

She stopped. 'Are you there, my darling?' she called out to no one in particular. Then, guided by some instinct, she turned towards the raven. 'Is that you?'

The raven strutted, stretched, then metamorphosed. 'It's me, m'dear,' said Merlin, now standing in the raven's place. 'Me. Yes. Yes, indeed.' And he embraced the young woman, kissing her with far more fire than was decent for a man of his advancing years.

'Well,' said the young woman when she had finally extricated herself. 'Have you been to Camelot?'

'Yes,' said Merlin. 'Yes, indeed. I watched the Queen's return before I flew here to see you. Quite an occasion. Banners, fanfares, cheering crowds--much as you'd expect. Not every day the Queen is rescued. No. No, indeed. I think they're planning a tournament. I suppose I'll have to get back for that.'

'So your protégé performed well?' the dark-haired woman asked.

'Pip?' asked Merlin. 'Yes, Pip performed very well. Yes. Yes, indeed.'

What a day, Pip! What a truly magnificent glorious day! And what an adventure! Notice how everyone treats you differently now, since you rescued the Queen? You're somebody now, Pip. Somebody important.

The cart rumbles slowly down the rutted roadway that leads to the farm of Freeman John and Goodwife Mary. A new cart too, hardly touched by the dust and mud of the journey; a cart given you by King Arthur himself, along with the sturdy pony that's pulling it.

There was the offer of a great deal more from the King--gold, honours, even a place at the Table Round itself, despite your age. But all you asked for was a cart and a horse to pull it. They thought you were a little crazy when you said that was all you wanted. They didn't understand your natural modesty, Pip. Nor the fact you needed a cart to carry all the booty you nicked from the Wizard Ansalom's Dark Castle. What are your adopted parents going to say when you appear with this lot, eh?

20,000 Gold Pieces.
18,000 Silver Pieces.
Emeralds worth 12,500 Gold Pieces.
Rubies worth 12,200 Gold Pieces.
Diamonds worth 77,000 Gold Pieces. (Less any Bribes, of course.)

Not to mention several other odds and ends you managed to pick up along the way. Enough there to buy a whole new farm. Ten whole new farms! Won't they be surprised? You'll be there in an hour and won't they be amazed?

The sun hangs low in the sky as your pony trundles onwards. What a day! What a glorious day!

'Pip...'

That voice sounds familiar.

'Pip... Excuse me, Pip...'

Good grief, it's Mean Jake! You remember--the boy who was always picking fights with you in the market. It seems like another age now. All the same, you drop your hand casually to the hilt of old Excalibur Junior. You're battle-hardened now, so no sense in taking chances.

But Mean Jake, standing by the roadside, has his cap off and is screwing it up in his hands nervously. You rein in the pony, watching him warily.

'Excuse me, Pip...' he says, 'I know you're very busy and all, but...' Screw, screw at the cap. '... I heard what you done--about rescuing the Queen and getting rid of the Wizard Ansalom and all--and I just wanted to say I'm sorry for all the... well, all the trouble I gave you and I was wondering... well, if we might be... well, friends, you know...'

And he looks so miserable and hangdog (and you're feeling so good, Pip) that you smile and say magnanimously, ' Of course, Mean Jake! Hop up on the cart and you can come home with me for tea. There may even be fresh scones!'

'Thank you, Pip. Thank you!' And Mean Jake climbs up excitedly on the cart and sits proudly beside you as you shake the reins to tell the pony to move along.

You sit silent, lost in your own thoughts of the great adventure while Mean Jake prattles on, trying to ingratiate himself with you, until you are suddenly jerked back to reality when the pony halts abruptly. A tree branch has fallen across the road, blocking it completely.

'Look at that,' says Mean Jake. 'We'll never move it.'

'Yes, we will,' you say confidently. After the Wizard Ansalom's Dark Castle a little thing like a tree branch isn't going to hold up Pip. With just the slightest swagger, you climb down from the cart and, taking a deep breath, you drag that old tree branch off into the undergrowth with a single, massive effort.

'There you are!' you say, as you emerge, brushing your hands together briskly. 'Nothing to... it...'

But you are talking to yourself. Mean Jake has gone. And so has your pony, cart and treasure! The road is empty. Not a soul about, except a bedraggled-looking blackbird of some description, watching you from a tree branch.

'I'll kill him!' you roar, half drawing Excalibur Junior in your anger.

'Tut, tut,' says the blackbird. 'Such temper.' It flutters down from the branch and struts towards you fearlessly before metamorphosing into the familiar form of Merlin, who stares at you as if he could read your very thoughts. Which apparently he can, for he says, 'Yes, it's me, Pip. Yes, indeed. And that wasn't a blackbird--it was a raven. I never change into blackbirds. Never. They always seem obsessed by people's noses. Ravens are different. Noble birds, ravens--more in keeping with a Magician of my stature. Easier to talk when you're a raven too. Blackbirds haven't the vocal chords for it.'

He seats himself on a nearby tree stump. 'Well, now,' he says, regarding you closely. 'Lost your treasure, have you? And the horse and cart the King gave you! Very careless. Very careless indeed. Especially to a thieving young haggis like Mean Jake. Should have known better after all you've been through.'

You hang your head a little shamefacedly. Because after all, you were showing off just a little when you climbed down from the cart.

'Yes,' says Merlin, as if still reading your thoughts. 'You were. Showing off. Yes. Yes, indeed. Not very proper behaviour for a Magician's Apprentice. Never find me showing off. But then I don't need to: everybody knows what a wise, handsome, noble and powerful person I am.'

He crosses one spindly leg over the other and falls off the tree stump. He picks himself up, mumbling crossly and plucking twigs from the folds of his robe. 'Sit down,' he says, indicating a second stemp. 'And sit still. Don't fidget. I have something to tell you.'

So you sit (still) and wait (without fidgeting).

'I have good news and bad news for you, Pip,' Merlin tells you.

'Your adventure is over. Done. Finished. Successfully concluded. That's the bad news. You have to return to your own time now. (Which may be bad news or not.) Don't worry about Pip--Pip's body, that is. I'll take care of it. It can walk back to the farm and nobody will know the difference. And don't make faces. I took care of Pip's body for years before you borrowed it, and I can take good care of it again.

Now the good news. The good news is that I am well pleased with what you did, Pip. I was just saying as much to my girl--to a young lady of my acquaintance not more than a few hours ago. Ansalom was a pest. The realm is well rid of him. And all credit to you for doing the job. Yes. Yes, indeed. It isn't often you find somebody with your talent, you know Pip. Somebody who can come into another time the way you did. That takes imagination. And you have it.

So I'll be calling on you again to take over Pip's body. Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. Avalon needs souls with your talent and your courage, so I'll be asking you to come back and take part in new adventures. Maybe even more dangerous than the Wizard Ansalom's Dark Castle. But you won't mind that, will you?

And you will come back, won't you?'


Well...will Pip come back? That depends on you guys. Do you still want to join Pip on his next quest in Book 2?

Either way, thanks to all of you for playing! Smile

FINAL QUEST JOURNAL:
Click here to see the hidden message (It might contain spoilers)
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Darth Rabbitt
King


Joined: 05 Feb 2009
Posts: 6173
Location: Anywhere but here.

PostPosted: Fri Sep 01, 2017 12:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Sad there's no option to use up our excess Firefingers on Mean Jake. Though since he stole treasure from a friend of the king who's a famous hero, chances are that he's executed as soon as he tries to make use of his newfound, ill-gotten wealth.

I'd be interested in continuing. How many GrailQuest books are there?
_________________
-The Reverend Sir Professor Darth Rabbitt
Click here to see the hidden message (It might contain spoilers)


Last edited by Darth Rabbitt on Fri Sep 01, 2017 12:38 pm; edited 1 time in total
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message Visit poster's website
Thaluikhain
Knight-Baron


Joined: 29 Sep 2016
Posts: 951

PostPosted: Fri Sep 01, 2017 2:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

SGamerz wrote:
Well...will Pip come back? That depends on you guys. Do you still want to join Pip on his next quest in Book 2?


IIRC, England was not destroyed by dragons, so it would seem we are predestined to do so.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Ikeren
Knight-Baron


Joined: 08 Jan 2011
Posts: 836

PostPosted: Fri Sep 01, 2017 4:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Curious; would the Ansalom fight be winnable if you didn't save your two fireballs, or missed with both of them?
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
SGamerz
Duke


Joined: 16 Jun 2014
Posts: 2297

PostPosted: Sat Sep 02, 2017 1:47 am    Post subject: Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Darth Rabbitt wrote:
Sad there's no option to use up our excess Firefingers on Mean Jake. Though since he stole treasure from a friend of the king who's a famous hero, chances are that he's executed as soon as he tries to make use of his newfound, ill-gotten wealth.


I always felt that it's a missed opportunity that Brennan didn't set him up as one of the End Bosses for the later books. Clearly, the only way he could have escaped Pip's wrath is to flee immediately to some faraway land and use that wealth to set up a fortress and an army to protect himself from Pip's inevitable vengeance.

Alas,
Click here to see the hidden message (It might contain spoilers)


Darth Rabbitt wrote:
How many GrailQuest books are there?


8 in total. The last few aren't as fun though, since difficulty really begins to spike up after Book 3.

Ikeren wrote:
Curious; would the Ansalom fight be winnable if you didn't save your two fireballs, or missed with both of them?


Not impossible, but the odds are against us without the Fireballs. We have a few other tools that can win the fight for us. The Globule Wand still had 8 charges, so we can keep using it to immobilize him and whack at him while he can't fight back. Also the place where we found the Teleportation scroll has a few random rewards. One of them is a Death Spell scroll that has a random chance of killing either all our enemies or killing us, so that might work in a pinch.

Then of course, there's always the slight chance that Ansalom has really bad luck and misses with more than half of his Firefingers, which essentially turn him into a scrub with high LP when he's out of spells.

The Poetic Fiend's magic duck can be used once per book to neutralize any one spell, so we have immunity from at least one Firefinger.


Last edited by SGamerz on Sat Sep 02, 2017 1:56 am; edited 2 times in total
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Display posts from previous:   
Post new topic   Reply to topic    The Gaming Den Forum Index -> In The Trenches All times are GMT
Goto page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Page 10 of 10

 
Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum




Powered by phpBB © 2001, 2005 phpBB Group