[Let's Play] Storytrails #6 The Stone of Badda

[SGamerz]

This next LP will be for the book that received 2 votes in two previous polls. It's been a while since the polls happened, so I hope the interest is still there.

Here's the back cover blurb:

The ice demons have brought eternal winter to your homeland. You can only defeat them by finding the secret of the Stone of Badda. This is now hidden in seven places, kept by the deadly guardians of the Otherworld, the place of the dead. Are you brave enough to face the guardians and win back the stone?

I think this is Allen Sharp's only book where the protagonist is a sword-wielding hero fighting demons.

Anyway, if you'd played any of the Storytrails books before (including the few LPs of some of the other books in the series that's been run on this forum), you already know that this series is more or less like a basic CYOA (except written from first person POV instead of second person like most standard gamebooks) with no intricate rules like stats or dice rolling or inventory, so we can proceed right to the story:

Each year when the spring came to the valley of Leshka, the snows would melt and tiny pink flowers would appear among the new shoots of grass in the meadows. The whole valle6y would glow with their colour, soft and warm in the noonday, shining like red gold at the break of day and the setting of the sun.

It was Ka, the raven, who always brought me the first news of spring. Each morning, I would go down to the pool by the river, for water in the winter and to bathe and fish in the summer. Each morning, Ka would skim across the water to greet me and, once each year, as he settled on my arm, he would place in my hand the first of the pink flowers. This year he had brought none. The time for spring had come and gone, yet still snow lay on the meadows and ice floated in the river.

I had brought to the pool some pf the little grain which still remained from last year's harvest and Ka was eating it, greedily. I pulled the wolf skins closer about my shoulders and wish that spring would come.

"Harath, who has many books and can read messages in the stars, says that spring may never come. He says that an ice demon has come to live in the valley."

If Ka had heard me, he only went on eating.

"Harath says that demons may be driven out, but that first, you must find them. Who could find a demon beneath all this ice and snow?"

Ka had finished the grain and looked up.

"Harath is wise," he said, "but there is one in the valley who is wiser. If you would rid the valley of the ice demon, then you must ask the Old One."

Everyone had heard of the Old One. Mothers used her name to frighten naughty children. It was said that she was a witch who lived deep within the caverns among the high rocks. Some had ventured there to dig for flints, but they said that it was a haunted place, perhaps a door to the Otherworld.

"I might ask the Old One," I said, laughing, "if she were real, and if I know where to find her."

"She is real," said Ka, "and I know where to find her. I will take you to her, if you are not afraid to go to the haunted place."

Well, we apparently has a talking raven for a friend. With that in mind, I'm not sure why we would be disinclined to believe in the legend of the Old One. It's not like it's less believable than talking ravens.

I was afraid, but I would not show my fear to the raven; so it was, with Ka as my guide, I set off for the place of the high rocks. It was nightfall before we reached the caverns. I had brought rush torches to light our way, but the path into the mountain was steep and difficult, winding down through caves and passages.

Deep within the rock, we reached a great cavern, larger and more wonderful than anything I had ye seen. Rocks like giant icicles hung in curtains from a high, shadowy roof, while others grew from the floor to meet them. A lake of still, dark water stretched away into darkness, a darkness not reached by the light of the fire which burned brightly in the centre of the floor.

As I neared the first, I could see, seated beyond the flames, a small, still figure. With clothes and flesh the colour of stone, it might have been carved from the rock itself.

"Why does my messenger bring you?" the voice was thin and piping.

"Ka, the raven has brought me," I replied.

"The raven is my messenger. Why does he bring you?"

"An ice demon has come to live in the valley of Leshka. The raven tells me that you would know how such a demon may be found and driven out."

"If you would know that, then listen to what I will tell you."

I laid down my rush torches and tinder box and sat by the flames with Ka perched upon my shoulder.

"Once, long ago, these caves were a place of demons," the Old One began, "demons who brought great misery and death to the people of Leshka, demons who soured the milk in the cattle, who blighted the crops, and fouled the river so that no fish would live in its waters. And so it had been for many long years.

"Among those who lived in the valley was a young girl-child, frail as the harebell, pretty as the rose. She had watched her mother die for want of food, and her father of a broken heart. So great was her grief and anger that she took her father's sword and climbed, alone, to these caves, that she might slay the demons. None had the courage to follow her and some fled the valley, fearing the demon's anger."

It was from the lips of one who had fled the valley that the story came to the ears of the great magician, who was called Badda. Touched by the bravery of the child, Badda transported himself by his magic to these caves. By that same magic, he banished the demons, but even Badda's magic could not save the child, for the demons had torn her throat out of her small body.

"To remind the people of the valley of their cowardice, Badda had the body of the the child carried among them and, where each drop of blood fell from her wounds, pink flowers sprang up amongst the grass. And the flowers have come each year, at the time of spring and the coming of new life, each year, until now.

"Before he left the valley, Badda wrote the secret of his power over demons upon a tablet of stone, and hid it so that none might put it to use. He decreed that if ever the demons returned to the valley of Leshka, then one in the valley would be told the secret of the stone."

"Do you know where the stone is hidden?" I asked eagerly.

"No," was the reply. "The stone was hidden, not in one, but in seven places. The first piece, I will give to you, for I am the first of its guardians. To find all seven pieces, you must journey to the Otherworld."

"But how," I asked, "can I reach the Otherworld? The Otherworld is the place of the dead!"

The Old One raised a skinny arm and pointed towards the black waters of the lake.

"By the shore of the lake, you will find a boat. The lake empties into a river. The river flows to the Otherworld. Not all of the guardians are as old or as gentle as I, but all that I can give you for your journey, you will find beside you.

I looked down. At my side was a cloak of fine wool and, laid upon it, a sword of bright steel and a bag of leather. I turned back to the Old One but, suddenly, the light shed by the flames of the fire was gone and the glow from its embers was fading.

The piping voice came from the darkness.

"Your journey is beginning. Beware the keeper of the gate!"

I jumped to my feet. The leather bag, I pushed into my belt, the cloak, I slung across my shoulder and the sword, I kept in my hand.

The last glow had gone from the fire, but now, in the blackness, I could see tiny flashes of of light, getting bigger and brighter. Now there was a sound, the sound of horse's hoofs clattering upon stone. As each hoof struck the floor of the cave it cast a shower of sparks. In the fliickering yellow light, I could see the horse, black as the darkness, but gleaming where the muscles rippled beneath its polished coat.

Astride its back was a rider in cloak and hood as black as his mount; a line of light flashed from the sword which he carried in his hand.

I felt Ka fluttering from my shoulder and heard his voice screeching above me.

"It is Zaroth, the ninth Horseman of Darkness, keeper of the gate of the Otherworld!"

The horse was almost upon me. I saw the flash of the rider's sword. I caught the blow on my own blade but, before I could return it, the horse had swung, swiftly, away. Almost at once, it had turned and the rider was upon me again. Again I parried the blow, though my own sword almost twisted from my hand. I could match the best in the valley, but I had met no swordsman like this. The third blow cut my cheek and drew blood. As horse and rider turned away in a shower of sparks, I saw that the rider's hood seemed completely to cover his head.

"His head is covered! How does he see?"

The question was to myself, but Ka's voice answered from the darkness.

"The horse sees!"

Already my sword arm was tiring. "The horse made its own light by some magic in its hoofs, like the striking of flint on steel. Flint and steel do not strike beneath water! Perhaps I could escape his blows by reaching the lake?

Where was the Old One? Was she too in danger from the horseman? Should I stay by the fire to defend her?

Ninth Horseman? I hope that doesn't mean we have to deal with the other 8 later.

How do we deal with the Ringwraith horseman?

[Thaluikhain]

Half vote for staying to defend the Old One.

Well, we apparently has a talking raven for a friend. With that in mind, I'm not sure why we would be disinclined to believe in the legend of the Old One. It's not like it's less believable than talking ravens.

Well, not if you've grown up with one and not the other. Like the internet and bigfoot, one would be much less believable 300 years ago.

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote to stay by the fire, get a firebrand from it, and follow the Weathertop strategy to deal with the Nazgûl.

[Queen of Swords]

Agreed, stay by the fire.

[SGamerz]

Half vote for staying to defend the Old One.

Well, we apparently has a talking raven for a friend. With that in mind, I'm not sure why we would be disinclined to believe in the legend of the Old One. It's not like it's less believable than talking ravens.

Well, not if you've grown up with one and not the other. Like the internet and bigfoot, one would be much less believable 300 years ago.

Valid point, although in a way we apparently did grow up with the legends of the Old One too. And the setting seems to be set in a more superstitious one, where people are at least receptive to the idea that demons exist. It's more kind of like if one finds it easy to believe in God but not in Santa Claus, or vice versa. I'm sure plenty of people like this exist, I just find it strange.

****

I could not see the Old One and dared not turn my gaze away from the horse and rider. I knew only that I was still near to where the fire had burned, for I could feel the soft ashes beneath my feet.

The next blow from the rider's sword, I caught too close to the hilt of my own blade. The force f the blow swung me around and I stumbled backwards into the heart of the fire's ashes.

The rider had been waiting for such a moment. I had lost my footing and my guard was down. The horse did not turn away, as before, but came on. I remembered Ka's words. "The horse sees!"

As I fell to one knee, I grasped a handful of the ash and threw it towards the horse's head. The horse stopped and reared up on its hind legs. I saw the front hoofs beating in the air above my head.

The rider struggled to hold his mount. The horse half turned and, as the rider was thrown back in the saddle, I saw that the hood had begun to slip from his head. There was a blinding flash of light, a sound like the rushing of great wind, and then blackness.

Still half blinded by the flash of light, I sat, blinking in the darkness. There was a sudden burning pain in my hand where it rested on the ground. I looked down and, in the blackness, I saw that the glow was returning to the embers of the dead fire.

I jumped up and sprang from the ashes as flames shot into the air and filled the cavern with light. The fire was burning as brightly as it had moments before the coming of the horseman. The horseman had gone and, where the Old One had sat, the ground was empty. I looked about the cavern, but all that I could see was Ka flying towards me.

I still did not understand how I could have defeated the rider with no more than a handful of ashes in the face of his horse.

"It is the law," said Ka. "The hood was slipping from his head and you were about to see his face. That you may not do, for it is the face of death."

"Then where is the Old One?" I asked.

That too is the law," Ka replied. "The keeper may not return to the gate empty handed - but do not grieve for her. The task which kept her in this place was done."

It was no time to ask Ka how he knew these things, only to be glad that he was coming with me to the Otherworld.

I had neither rested nor eaten since we had set out from my village early last morning. I was weary and hungry. There was fresh water in the lake and I had brought with me some goat's cheese and black bread. We ate them by the fire.

I opened the leather bag which the Old One had given me. Inside it was a piece of stone, smooth on two of its sides, Jagged on the third, as if broken from some larger piece. It was clear and red, like a ruby, though larger than any such stone. The top and bottom were polished as in a mirror and, as I turned it in the light of the fire, I could see markings upon one of the polished faces. Harath had taught me some reading, but the markins were like no letters that I knew. I put the stone back into the bag.

Already, I knew that the cavern was not without its dangers. I now had to decide whether to spend the night by the fire, or take the boat and begin the journey to the Otherworld.

If only Frodo could deal with his dark horsemen pursuers this easily...

Do we want to spend the night here?

[Thaluikhain]

Half vote for staying by the fire.

Valid point, although in a way we apparently did grow up with the legends of the Old One too. And the setting seems to be set in a more superstitious one, where people are at least receptive to the idea that demons exist. It's more kind of like if one finds it easy to believe in God but not in Santa Claus, or vice versa. I'm sure plenty of people like this exist, I just find it strange.

True. I remember waaaay back in high school learning about the Taiping rebellion, and how it's leader claimed to be a son of god, Jesus's younger brother. People in the class who believed in Jesus thought this was absurd. Which seemed odd given that they believed in a precedent for that.

Also, this person started the bloodiest war in human history until WW2 happened. Which might give his claims some weight.

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote to take the boat and begin the journey, as sticking around seems to be asking for trouble.

[Queen of Swords]

Start the journey.

[SGamerz]

The boat was a simple craft with a frame of wood and a covering of skins. A single wood paddle lay in its bottom. I had brought with me what remained of the rush torches which had lighted our way into the mountain, but I saw that it would not be easy both to hold a torch and to use the wooden paddle, though the light from the fire would see us well out from the shore.

I did not know here the river lay, but now, as I stopped paddling so that I might find my tinder box, the boat began to drift of its own accord,

Ka, who was perched on the edge of the boat, gave a sudden, shrill cry of warning. I was used to the echoes of the cavern, but these echoes did not fade and die. They grew and swelled until the very rocks were ringing, pieces of the stone breaking away and splashing into the water about us. At least, the ringing faded and I looked to see what had made Ka cry out.

“In the water!” he screeched, “something large, black and shining, like no fish that I have ever seen.”

I looked, but could see nothing but the ripples. I lift a torch and held it high. As I did so, the boat was lifted into the air by something beneath it. For a moment, it hung above the water and then came crashing down, all but overturning as it hit the lake. The paddle and the rest of the torches were gone.

The one torch still burned. I tried to draw the sword from my belt, but a blow to the side of the tiny craft sent it spinning in circles until we hit the wall of the cavern. In the light of the torch, I could see a dark opening beside us and swirling patterns on the water moving into its blackness. This must be the river to the Otherworld!

The wooden frame of the boat was split and splintered and water oozed between the skins. I held the torch higher to see a dark shape moving swiftly through the lake towards us.

I looked up to the rook of the cavern, curtained by the icicles of stone. The boat itself lay beneath a narrow shelf of rock. I looked at Ka.

“Shout!” I cried. “Shout for our lives!”

This...does not look like a good plan to me. Surely shouting to bring down those icicles is more likely to kill us than whatever that's hidden underwater?

Ka’s cries split the air. I too joined in the shouting. As the echoes became an army of voices, the rocks began to ring and the air to shiver in the sound. There was a loud crack somewhere above us and then another, and another. The icicles of rock began to rain down upon the lake like thunderbolts from the gods. The waters boiled and churned.

Our boat was picked up in one great wave and hurled into the dark passage. The torch was gone. Like a twig on a flooded river, tossed and turned, the boat sped on through the black torrent. Crouched in its bottom with Ka held in my arms, I closed my eyes and prayed for the protection of my ancestors.

When opened my eyes, there was light above us. I say up in the boat to see that we were floating on a wide river which passed between grassy banks where trees and flowers grew. Perhaps the sky was not so blue as I remembered in the valley of Leshka, and the grass not so green, but if this was the Otherworld, then it was not the gloomy place that I had expected.

The boat drifted close to the bank, and I jumped out into the shallow water, dragging the boat onto dry land.

The inside of the boat was covered with fine splinters of rock, but there was one piece much larger than the rest, coated in greenish slime. I picked it up and washed It in the river. It was a piece of red stone, like ruby, and polished on two of its faces. I slipped it into the leather bag.

The bank of grass sloped gently upward and I climbed to its top. In the distance I could see many hills and valleys, and beneath my feet was a rough road.

In one direction, the road led into a dark forest of tall pine trees. In the other, it wound its way up a hillside until it became lost from sight among rocky crags. I had seen enough of dark pieces and set off up the hill.

Where the road entered the rocky place, we stopped. Now I could see little of what might be beyond. I waited while Ka flew off to look ahead.

So I guess that underwater thing was the guardian of the second stone? If it'd actually remained quiet and hidden I doubt we would ever have found out where the second stone was. Whatever it was, it doesn't seem like an effective guardian.

I thought that I might rest until Ka’s return. I could see no comfort on the stony road but a little above me was a flat ledge of rock. I scrambled up and say myself upon it. Ka was away longer than I had expected. I empty the two pieces of red stone from the leather bag and turned them about in my hands. They fitted together perfectly. So, I had met two of the guardians. Five, I have yet to meet. If all were like the second guardian then my task would not be easy.

“Hey! You up there!”

The voice was below me. I looked down to see a man standing on the road, He was dressed in skins, like any of the men in my valley. His hair and beard were tinged with grey. He was tall and broad and, as he stood with his hands to the hips, I could see a dagger thrust into his belt.

“Who are you, and what are you doing up there?”

“I’m a traveller,” I replied. “I’m only resting up here.”

The man laughed.

“A traveller, eh? Then you’re one of the newly dead. Everybody travels when they first come here, but I can tell you that there’s no way out of the Otherworld – not unless you’re lucky enough to be reborn.”

“Did you say ‘dead’?” I asked him.

“Dead? Of course you’re dead. We’re all dead here, my friend. This is the land of the dead.”

He looked very much alive. I stared at him.

“I know,” he said. “You’re thinking that if he’s dead then why does he look like a robber. All my life I was a robber. I liked being a robber. You can be what you like in this place, and so I’m still a robber. They call me Aygar. Have you eaten?”

I said that I hadn’t. Aygar watched as I put the stones back into the bag. Ka had come back and was sitting on the rocks opposite. I climbed down.

“Down there,” said Aygar, pointing down the road, “the road forks. One way leads to my cave. The other goes to the forbidden place. Some say that it’s a way out of this land, but I’d rather fight men than demons. Come to my cave and eat with me.”

Though I did not trust him, Aygar might tell me much. It was either Aygar’s cave, or the forbidden place.

Do we follow the robber to his place?

[Thaluikhain]

Follow, I guess.

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote to go to Agyar's cave, as our hero is probably going to need an ally to survive in this land of the dead.

[Queen of Swords]

He'll try to rob us. Forbidden place.

[SGamerz]

I could see that Ka was following at a distance. Since I did not trust Aygar, I thought it wise to say nothing of my raven.

The cave was not far beyond the fork in the road. It was big, but almost bare, with no more than a fire, a few wolf skins on the floor, and a pitcher and some bowls made from clay baked in the sun. Aygar picked up two of the bowls and gave one to me.

"Sit," he said. "Sit and eat."

I watched as he placed the bowl between his legs. He picked something out of it with his hand and, putting it to his mouth, began to tear at it with his teeth. He made a great noise of eating, though I could see nothing either in the bowl or in his hand. He saw me staring at him.

"I should have remembered," he said, "that you are one of the newly dead. When you're dead, you don't need to eat, but I've been here for five hundred years and I still do it. It passes the time. Just think what you want to eat and you'll see it and taste it. I'm having bear meat."

I thought of tender lamb, but my bowl stayed empty. Perhaps I wasn't dead after all! I pretended to eat. Aygar wiped his hands on the skins of his tunic.

"Ah!" he said, "That's much better. Now, I'll tell you something. I brought you here to rob you, but you being a newly dead, I've changed my mind. Pay me for the meal and you can be on your way."

I told him that I had no money.

"Money! What do I want with money? You have two nice rubies in that leather bag. I have one just like them and three would look very well."

So Aygar had the third piece of stone! said that he might have my cloak or my sword in payment.

"I already have your sword. I took it when I gave you the bowl. Give me the stones and I might give it back to you."

I shook my head. Aygar thrust his dagger towards me, the blade scratching my hand. He looked at the trickle of blood.

"You're not dead!" he shouted. "We must fight! I can kill you, but you can't kill me. I'm dead already!"

He threw me the sword. I caught it, but should I fight, or run?

If we can taste and eat whatever we think of, then why should we pay him? The thought comes from us, he didn't provide anything. I guess he's charging for the use of the bowl?

Also, if he wants 2 more pieces of rubies, can't he just think of them and wish them into his possession like he does with his food?

Do we want to fight the dead guy?

[Thaluikhain]

If he's got one stone, I guess we have to fight?

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote to fight in order to get the stone. If our hero cannot kill him, maybe we can knock him out or send him to a purgatory area?

[SGamerz]

I thought that my sword was a fair match against any dagger. Perhaps I had not counted on the risks that a man might take - a man who knew that he was already dead!

I was sure that I had caught him twice with my sword, once on the wrist and once on the face, but there was no blood and it had not slowed him down, even for an instant.

The dagger came uncomfortably close to my side. It missed my flesh, but I felt the leather bag slip from my belt. Aygar bent down to snatch it. I kicked it away towards the mouth of the cave. Aygar moved to follow it but, before he could reach it there was a flutter of wings. I saw Ka swoop down, take the bag in his beak, and make off with it. Aygar wanted the stones more than he wanted to fight with me, and was quick to follow the vanishing Ka.

I could trust Ka to lead him a merry dance while I used my chance to seek for third piece of the stone. As a child, I had played games of hide and seek wit Harath. When I failed, Harath would say, "Look where you least expect to find." I looked around the cave. There was the fire. The day was warm and Aygar did no cooking. Why did he need a fire?

I kicked the wood and ashes away. Beneath it was what looked like a loose slab of stone. I levered it up with a stick from amongst the pile of wood nearby. There was a hollow in the rock, and in the hollow lay Aygar's treasure. I left the gold and silver and precious stones, and took only the piece of red stone which Aygar called a ruby.

Ka came back as I was returning the stone slab to its place and pushing the fire back over it again. He still carried the leather bag. He had led Aygar over the rocks and made him scramble down a cliff to the road. There, he had left him. I had no doubt that Aygar will be coming back, though I did not know whether he would climb the cliff or use the road..

Something told me that I had next to reach the forbidden place. I did not want to meet Aygar again. Should I use the road, or make my way across the rocks and crags above it?

[Thaluikhain]

Rocks and crags, he'll expect us on the road.

[Queen of Swords]

Agreed, rocks and crags.

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote for the rocks and crags, as the road is probably not safe.

[SGamerz]

I made my way along the crags and between the rocks, keeping as close as I could to the line of the road. The road ran through the bottom of a deep cleft in the rocks and, to follow it, I had only to keep the edge of the cleft in sight.

The crags ended above a huge hollow, like some giant bowl scooped from the rock. Facing me, and built across the farthest side of the hollow, was a high wall of stone. The wall was higher than the hollow itself and stretched away beyond the rim on either side. I could see no end to it.

The road entered the hollow below me and wound its way across the bottom to end at the wall. Where the road ended, was a gateway, closed by two great doors of bronze. At each side of the gateway stood the giant bronze figure of an archer with drawn bow. I had reached the forbidden place.

I knew that, somehow, I must enter it. I looked at the wall. It was high, even where it lay above the hollow. I might try to scale it. What if I were to scramble down and knock upon the great doors?

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote to knock upon the great doors, as I do not think our hero has the equipment to successfully climb any walls.

[Thaluikhain]

Makes sense.

[SGamerz]

I was standing now at the centre of the hollow and looking towards the great gateway in the wall. I was wondering, whether the doors would be opened to me and what might lie beyond, when there was a shout close behind me.

"Hy-ee-ah!"

I know the voice. I did not know where he had come from, but I did not need to turn around to know that it was Aygar! I did turn, though not before I had felt the leather bag being snatched from my belt. Before I could stop him, Aygar was dancing away from me and waving the bag in the air, like an excited child,

"You will have to fight for it!" he shouted. I did not move. I knew that I could not beat Aygar in a fair fight. You cannot kill a dead man! There must be some other way.

Aygar had begun to move farther off. I did not think that he would go far. I saw that he now wanted the fight more than he wanted the stones. He started to scramble up the side of the hollow, still shouting.

"Think of the prize. Not just my stone or yours, but all three!"

He was watching and and not where he was treading. He stepped on a loose rock and it began to slide. Ohers followed, with small boulders beginning to roll down the slope. A hail of small stones reached the place where I was standing and I covered my head.

When the shower of stones had stopped, I could see that Aygar was still there. I could hear him shouting. One of his legs was caught firmly between two rocks. I ran towards the slope with Ka flying ahead of me.

I saw him land just below where Aygar was trapped. As I came closer, I saw what he was doing. Aygar had dropped the bag and it was caught among the rocks where Ka had landed. As Ka pulled at the bag, the rocks above him were beginning to move again. I could see that if the rocks were to slide, they could bury both Ka and Aygar.

If I were to stop Ka until I had tried to rescue Aygar, then the rocks might still slide and I would have lost the three stones forever.

It was the bag, or Aygar!

[JourneymanN00b]

I vote to get the bag.

[Queen of Swords]

The bag, of course. (Though afterwards I'd like to find out what happens if we rescue Aygar)