[LP] DestinyQuest 2: The Heart of Fire

[Darth Rabbitt]

The tapestry features a number of embroidered panels; each one tells part of the story of Saint Allam. Your own knowledge of the saint is scanty, having never had time for books in your youth. The woman beside you notices you scratching your head in confusion as you try and make sense of the scenes.
'You're not familiar with the story?' she asks. Before you can answer she is already pointing to one of the scenes, where Allam is depicted kneeling in a church, looking up at a bright light. 'That's Allam, the youngest of King Gerard's sons. He was given a message, a vision, that he must journey to the west.'
Her finger travels to an image of Allam riding at the head of a procession of knights. 'The king sent him west with an army, and a personal guard of his best knights. Those knights became the six saints.' The woman points to a further panel, where Allam is shown striking down a misshapen creature with a bolt of lightning. 'Their armies fought their way west, conquering the trolls and the goblin hordes. But those victories meant nothing to Allam. He was searching for something else—something he called "the True Light".'
'Did he ever find it?' you ask, scanning the many scenes.
The woman shakes her head sadly. 'They brought much to the west; they founded Carvel and brought the One God's grace to the pagan peoples. But Allam never found the True Light. Many think it is a myth, something he invented to keep up the morale of his forces. But he always believed in it—and we must believe too. These lands are special. That is why we come here.'
The woman moves closer to the final panel, where Allam is shown ascending into clouds on angel's wings. 'It's nearly two hundred years to the day that Allam was reunited with the One God.' She looks your way. 'You are staying for the All Saint's celebrations aren't you? I've heard it's really going to be something. The prince has promised—'
Her voice grows distant as your attention wanders back to the first image, of Allam kneeling before the bright light of the One God. Could it have been the same light you saw in your recent vision, guiding you through the forest of thorns?
You mumble a hasty 'thank you' to the woman before moving away.

Will you:
Talk to the man on the bench?
Leave the church?

[angelfromanotherpin]

Socialize!

[Omegonthesane]

Chat up the man in the church.

[SGamerz]

Talk for more exposition.

[Darth Rabbitt]

(We do not have the coat of many scales.)

The man looks up as you approach. His clothes are dirty, his appearance ragged. Clutched in one of his fists is a crumpled piece of paper. 'Look around you,' he hisses angrily. 'If you can't find charity here, then where can you find it?'
You take a seat next to him, asking the man to explain.
'I got nothing, not a coin to me name. But I got this.' He shakes the tattered roll of paper. 'It's me grandma. She sent it to me...before...' He breaks off, tears welling in his eyes. 'Gah, look at me!' Angrily, he rubs at his face with his dirt-blackened fingers.
'The village...I left to go east. I thought I could make it big in one of the cities. Things didn't go well; debts...you know. Had a few people leaning on me. Then a messenger found me—gave me this.' He unravels the paper. 'A letter from me grandma. Sounds like something happened in the village. Something bad. She wrote this to warn me, that if...if she weren't around no more, then her house and its belongings would be mine.' With a scowl, he crumples up the paper again. 'They call that village Blight Haven now. You know why?' He looks at you with bloodshot eyes. 'Everybody died. But they didn't stay dead...it's cursed, a place of evil.'
He shudders. 'The inquisitors don't do nothing; they say it's forbidden to go there. And what I'm owed...' He opens his fist, letting the ball of paper drop to the ground. 'Not worth the paper it's written on.'
His attention strays to your weapons. 'Hey, you're an adventurer, right? You wouldn't be heading that way, you know, looking for a fight or whatever you people do?'
You shrug your shoulders. 'Perhaps.'
The man scratches his unshaven chin. 'There's a coat. Belonged to my grandfather. A coat of basilisk scales. If you should come across it, then you'd be doing me a real favor. Charity and all that.' He sneers at a passing group of priests. 'The Church doesn't care about us commoners no more. But you'll help, right? I may not get me rightful home, but that coat could get me out of a lotta trouble. I'll even give you a cut of the gold, too. What d'you say?'
You agree to do what you can.
'Thank you,' he grins, shaking your hand. 'My name is Joseph. I'll be waiting right here, just in case you come back.' He flashes you a mouth full of rotted black teeth.

Will you:
Investigate the castle?
Cross the bridge to the tower?
Leave Carvel?

[angelfromanotherpin]

Castle!

[Omegonthesane]

Castle.

[SGamerz]

Castle

[Darth Rabbitt]

The strange-looking keep is surrounded by a high wall of stone, which looks to have been built more recently than the rest of the building. A wrought-iron gate provides a glimpse of the paved courtyard beyond, where you spy several carriages lined up outside the front steps.
Two guards move quickly to bar your way, crossing their halberds in front of you. Both are wearing white livery, displaying the outline of a black bat.
'Back off, commoner,' sneers one of the guards. 'Invitation only.'
Your eyes travel up the vast spear-head of rock to its wedge-shaped summit. There you can make out a crown of towers, stabbing even further into the murky clouds. 'Who lives there?' you ask. 'I never saw such a place before.'
'Prince Lazlo, you fool,' snaps the other guard. 'Now, back off—or this becomes a situation. And you really don't want a situation. Ain't that right, Bork?'
The other guard nods his head. 'Yeah, situations are bad. Real bad.'
Looking to avoid a 'situation' you bid the guards a hasty farewell.

Will you:
Cross the bridge to the tower?
Leave Carvel?

[SGamerz]

Tower.

[Omegonthesane]

Tower.

[Darth Rabbitt]

You stagger across the bridge, head bowed to the fierce wind that seems intent on driving you back. Finally, trembling from the bitter cold, you reach the lonely tower, ascending the stairs to an open doorway.
Inside, you find yourself in a small stone chamber. A man sits behind a desk, slouched in a leather seat. As you walk over, the man looks up and sighs.
'This is the tower of mages,' he drawls, inspecting his fingernails. 'Are you wanting instruction in the magic arts?'
Before you can answer, the man slides off his chair and walks around the desk. His white hair is pulled back tight from his face, bound into a ponytail by a black ribbon. 'I am Malak Drake, secretary and understudy to the wise and great Ignatius Pyre.' He looks you up and down, his nose wrinkling. 'I should warn you, the testing is not easy—you wouldn't be the first to suffer,' he pauses while he stifles a yawn, 'irreparable mental and physical damage.' His heavy-lidded eyes settle on your own. 'Speak, then, or take your putrid presence elsewhere.'

Will you:
Ask about the mage tower?
Ask about the testing?
Return to upper town Leave Carvel? (there's nothing else to do there)

[SGamerz]

Ask about both, but tower first.

[Omegonthesane]

Agreed.

[Ikeren]

Agreed!

[Darth Rabbitt]

The mage tower:
'We are here to train the wayward flock,' he grins, showing off the gemstones embedded in his teeth. 'Old magic and the Church—it's an uneasy alliance. They favor the magic of the one—the magic that comes from within.' He prods your chest with a finger, then grimaces as he wipes his hand on his coat. 'But our magic comes from the elements; from the shroudl.'
Malak's head lolls to one side, his eyes half-closed. 'You test my patience. Such things can be learnt from a book; go find a library and appease your ignorance there.'

(Some new options open up, and I'm going to ask them all because I slacked off on this for a few days and I don't want to slow down the LP any further there's no reason not to.)

More about the 'shroud':
Malak's face lengthens into a scowl. 'The shroud is a place of demons and spirits—where the raw elements rule over all. It is the center of everything, the meeting place of worlds.'
'And the old magic comes from this place?' you ask frowning.
Malak clicks his tongue. 'Yes, you fool. The dwarves were the first to commune with the spirits, binding their power into runes. In time, they learned that they could summon more sentient spirits; those who would gift them greater powers.'
Malak raises his hands, summoning crackling flames to his fingertips. 'We have to learn control. If we don't, we can lose ourselves to the magic and then...' He snaps them closed, extinguishing the flames. 'Only with control can we understand true power. Not like those Wiccan fools who dabble freely in the darker magics, magics that will turn them all into gibbering demon spawn.'

The Wiccans:
'They learnt their paltry magic from the dwarves, back in the dark ages—back when we were all savages, with no wisdom or understanding.' Malak picks a stray hair from his silken cuff and flicks it away. 'They treated it like any other weapon—used it to crush their enemies.'
He snorts. 'I suppose they became civilized, in their own way. But where there is ignorance there is always danger.' He folds his arms, lifting his head back to peer at you down his nose. 'Did I mention the word ignorance yet again? How very...apt. Now, if you would just crawl back to your little hole I can get back to my life.'

The Testing:
'To learn the path of the mage, you need to be tested—we need to know that you have the mental strength to control the magic, to stave off the temptations that will come your way.'
'What temptation?' you ask with interest.
'Our most powerful magics come from the essence of demons,' explains Malak. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a pulsing blue orb. As he holds it aloft, lightning begins to flicker around it. 'This is my kha. It belonged to a demon once...but now I use it to draw power; to strengthen my magic. One day I will need to break my bond with it or else I will become the very demon I defeated to obtain it. Tell me,' Malak's lips curl into a scowl. 'Do you really think you can master such power?'

(We do not have the prince's seal.)

Well, that's everything in Carvel. Where to next?

[Ikeren]

Greens are easy quest? Easy Quest at 14, then?

[angelfromanotherpin]

Yes, go for the trail encounter.

[Omegonthesane]

Agreed.

[SGamerz]

Let's hope Section 14 in DQ is a better place than Section 14 in Grailquests.

[Darth Rabbitt]

Quest: King of the Hill

Ahead, dark shapes loom out of the mist: a series of earthen mounds, carpeted with moss and heather. In the distance a solitary wolf howls. It is a sad, mournful noise, which seems perfectly in keeping with this drab and remote area of moorland.
The traveller had convinced you this was a good idea. 'Yeah, the barrows, my friend. If you're looking to get some fast treasure—get yourself suited and booted—then those ancient graves are just offering it up.'
As you gaze upon the eerie collection of mounds, many ringed by standing tablets of stone, you start to wonder if the traveller had been a little crazy.
'Well, I've come this far.' Gritting your teeth you trudge onwards through the high grass, into the thick veil of fog. You haven't gone far before the wind starts to pick up speed, beating about your body and ripping at your cloak. As you stagger back, losing ground to the onslaught, you suddenly sense the windstorm shift direction.
The mist is now whirling and twisting on the powerful currents, turning faster and faster until it has become a huge rippling tornado. Black lightning crackles around the funnel-shaped cloud as it spins furiously towards you. It is time to fight:

	Speed	Magic	Armor	Health
Raging storm	0	1	0	12

Special Abilities
Celestial charge: each time you deal damage to the raging storm, you are struck by the lightning and must lose 2 health.

Round 1: Us 4+1, Storm 11+0. (prophecy'd, no damage)
Round 2: Us 10+1, Storm 7+0. 3+1 damage, storm's at 8 *Celestial charge* we're at 28.
Round 3: Us 6+1, Storm 5+0. 6+1 damage, storm's at 1 *Celestial charge we're at 26.
Round 4: Us 8+1, Storm 11+0. 6+1-2 damage, we're at 23.
Round 5: Us 6+1, Storm 3+0. 3+1 damage, storm is defeated!

As your magical blade slashes through the misty apparition, you see it recoil—the lightning flickering more angrily than before. Armed with the knowledge that this creature can feel pain, you continue to hack away at its whirling form, sending ribbons of mist spiraling away into the gloom. Soon the elemental is no more, the wind that created it dying down to an ineffectual breeze.
Keeping your weapon drawn you continue into the burrows, eyeing your surroundings warily. After several minutes, you see a series of oval hills looming out of the fog; burial mounds where the traveller insisted you would find ancient weapons and treasure. To your left, you notice one of the mounds has a ring of candles placed on top of it; their tiny flames flicker in the wind. To your right, you can see an opening in the side of one of the hills. It looks like it was once covered by a boulder, which has now been pushed aside.

Will you:
Investigate the candles?
Enter the open burial mound?

[Omegonthesane]

Investigate the candles. They're otherwise inevitably going to contain something vital.

[SGamerz]

Agreed.

[Thaluikhain]

Yeah, check out random burning things.

[Darth Rabbitt]

As you clamber up the hill you are surprised to see an old woman, muttering and cackling to herself. You can't make out the words, but they sound like part of a chant or a rhyme.
At the top of the mound you see that an intricate pattern of runes has been burnt into the grass. A woman, old and hunched over, is hobbling around its edge, pulling black candles from a sack that she drags behind her. These are being placed in various chalk circles. Most of the candles are already lit.
At the center of this bizarre display, a large hollowed-out pumpkin rests on a bed of stone. Two slanted eyes and a jagged mouth have been cut into one side, and a candle burns within it, giving off a ghoulish glow.
The woman sniffs the air, then suddenly whirls around, pointing a gnarled finger at you. She spits out a curse, her eyes narrowing to dark slits. Your first reaction is to raise your hands, to prove you mean no harm, but the woman's scowl is a clear sign that she sees you as her enemy.
'Must finish the ritual,' she hisses. 'Sacred land must be protected!' She lunges forwards, her long bony fingers crackling with magic:

	Speed	Magic	Armor	Health
Wiccan witch	0	1	0	14

Round 1: Us 8+1, Witch 8+0: 1+1 damage, witch is at 12.
Round 2: Us 6+1, Witch 4+0: 4+1 damage, witch is at 7.
Round 3: Us 5+1, Witch 11+0: (prophecy'd, no damage.)
Round 4: Us 7+1, Witch 7+0: 3+1 damage, witch is at 4.
Round 5: Us 11+1, Witch 10+0: 6+1 damage, witch is defeated!

You duck beneath a crackling bolt of magic, bringing the butt of your weapon up across the woman's forehead. The blow should have stunned her, but instead she merely staggers away, hissing the words of yet another spell. As you ready yourself for a fresh barrage of magic, you are surprised when the woman throws up her arms, her gaze shifting skyward. There is a flicker of magic about her body and then she is gone.
You hear a flutter of wings and a deafening caw. Suddenly black feathers and yellow eyes rush at your face. With a cry you throw yourself backwards, slashing at the air. However, your desperate blows fail to connect with anything solid. For several moments you are fending off sharp talons and beating wings...then the attack ceases.
Twisting around, you see a ragged-looking crow soaring away across the foggy moorland. A single black feather flutters down to land on the grass at your feet. You may now take the following item:

Crow feather
(talisman)
+1 magic

With the witch defeated, you are able to study the candles and runes more closely.

Candles have been placed inside a series of chalk circles, marked across the hilltop. Three of the circles remain empty. You wonder if the witch meant to complete the ritual by adding more candles to these empty circles. Retrieving the witch's bag, you find a dozen candles and a tinderbox inside. Perhaps you could finish this strange ritual to see what happens...

Decide how many candles you will place in the sun, moon and star circles. Take each of these individual numbers, in that order, to give you a three-digit number. (For example, 5 candles in the sun circle, 2 candles in the moon circle and 3 in the star circle would give you the number 523.)
Then turn to the resulting entry number to see if you were successful. If you fail to solve the puzzle then you have no choice but to resume your journey.

Name: [TBD]
Speed: +1, Brawn: +1, Magic: +2, Armor: +2
Health: 30

Slot	Item	Speed	Brawn	Magic	Armor	Ability
Head	Plumed Helm				+1
Necklace
Cloak	Saddle Blanket				+1
Main Hand	Knight's Folly		+1	+1
Left Hand
Gloves
Chest	Rider's Jerkin	+1
Feet
Talisman	Crow Feather			+1
Ring 1
Ring 2

Backpack	Item
1	Pot of healing
2
3
4
5

Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns