As I left the inn to give in to one of Mother Nature's most frequent urges (I could have used the men's room but there are certain limits to what my nose will cope with) a strange spectacle caught my attention.
Out in the street, just leaving the Guild next door, a colorful gathering of humanoids, men and women, made their way to the bank on the other side of City Square. Anyone could see at once that they did not belong in the town of Pelnor; their actions much too loud and uncontrolled. No born Pelnorian (or Gelnorian for that matter) would talk with so little humility or walk the streets with such defiant absence of fear.
They just had to be strangers; and if my eyes did not betray me I was witnessing the formation of yet another band of adventurers, all too eager to accept the threat posed by Nikademus' Black Knights and all the other usurpers of Gelnor. Experience told me it was useless to interfere with their business, or to warn them of their dangers. I knew right away that if they ever left town the chances of their return were slim at best. So if I had any sense, I told myself, I would do what I set out to do, ignore the strangers completely and get back into my bargaining session with Jerry "Hard-nickel" Josephson. Times are rough for all of us; no sense getting mixed up in rebellions; however just they may be.
Now I have this problem. My father, a no-good lazy sod who never earned an honest copper in his whole life, spent much of his time (of the little time he spent home with his family, that is) with me, and he always talked of his adventures. Between you and me, and not meaning any disrespect to his dear memory, I doubt if he ever had the nerve to even lift a dagger, let alone partake in mighty fights and battles. But I was a kid, and his stories impressed me. And there was one thing that sustained their credibility. My father, only the Gods know how, had a magic potion that he showed me every couple of months, to bring back my belief and awe when these had diminished beyond the point of reverence he expected of me. He would then disappear for a while, and come back with a small vial that held a greenish liquid of great viscosity. It's the only thing of any value I inherited from my old man.
When I returned to the inn, I saw the party of adventurers standing out in the street, and it looked like they were pondering what equipment to buy with the little gold they had to start their travels with. I made a decision then, walked past the inn, went to get that magic potion my old man was so proud of, and secretly brought it to the armory where I put it on one of the shelves. I know Furry; he never asks where anything comes from. None of us Pelnorians have a great love for the forces of Nikademus. I figured it was the least I could do to help. After all, they were here to help us.
So that's how I lost the one heirloom my father left to the family. When I visited the armory later that afternoon, the vial was gone. I sure do hope that's a real magic potion.
SSI's PHANTASIE is reviewed (actually, the game is Phantasie I and forms the first part of a trilogy). Using a somewhat different approach within the same set up, I will try to give a general idea of the game in short descriptive accounts larded with hints and tips on how to use magic, weapons, menu options and so forth. For those new to the game, Phantasie is a Dungeons and Dragons? type game where magic spells, enchanted swords, healing potions and many other Tolkienish accesories serve you to survive the many battles that stand between you and the completion of your quest - the destruction of the Black Lord. At the end of this article, I will give a short explanation of the mechanics of the game, and I'll give you the information you need to start a group of six adventurers on their quest. But Lo! here's another excerpt.
Today when I went to the forest to gather mushrooms I saw the strangest thing. Just before I entered the edge of the pinewoods, I heard loud voices approaching. Knowing that many evil and dangerous things roam our country, I quickly hid behind the first trees. There I waited, and after a few moments, coming from the east, I saw an unusual company make its way toward me. At first I was too scared to keep looking, but when I was sure no-one had seen me, I peeked from under a large branch and tried to see who it was, speaking with such bravour and eloquence.
"I don't know about the rest of you", said a short, fat, sturdy dwarf with a long black beard tucked into his belt - next to a large hammer - "but I could sure use a bath. We've been travelling for a long time and my beard has gathered more dust than all the floors in the Endless Caves of Jaro. I hope we find a town before long."
"Well Ranp, I don't think you'll need to worry," came the light voice of an Elf, "if my nose doesn't play tricks on me there's a pond of some sort nearby. I smell fresh water."
"All hail the elfin nose. Lead the way, Sly, we're right behind you."
When I saw who they were, my eyes opened in wonder. Not only was it strange to see such a mingled company of races, but their outfits! One of them, a halfling, was wearing a large pointed hat and a woollen cloak adorned with many mystic symbols. Another one, a strange creature with two horns growing from over his ears, wore grey armor and a large shield. There were four others, among them the elf and the dwarf who had spoken of water, and all were riding on horseback.
Alone in my hiding place, I felt safe, but worried. The elf had smelled water, and there was only one place where it could come from. A few miles ahead, there was a forbidden pond. Its water crystal clear, it seemed an innocent place to rest - but those who drank would all be changed. Although the change that comes upon humanoids (my father says only thinking races profit from its exotic effects, because animals do not know how to understand the magic gift) is benificiary, none of us Gelnorians ever drink - the Black Knights mercilessly execute those who ignore their commands.
For a moment, I wanted to shout, but then they had disappeared. I wondered if they would bathe? If they did, some of them would be stronger, others smarter, still others would have more vigor in their veins. Somehow I was glad I hadn't warned them. They looked like one of the rare bands of adventurous travellers that sometimes ride in our country, until they are defeated by Black Knights or slain by some strange monster from far east. It is rumored that many powerful beings live there, and that there are two more magical ponds where none dare drink these days. I hope some day a hero will be strong enough to enter the Black Lord's Palace and remove his dark reign from Gelnor - but it is said that it takes great courage to enter his domain, and that it can only be done with the help of the Gods. May Zeus be with that hero, whenever he comes. .........taken from Josella Kreylers diary.
...and saw how this servant of Satan stalked the party of warriors, and how the minotaur knight who was standing guard was surprised by the presence of the devil and failed to wake his companions in time. The devil, merely playing with his victims, clawed at one of the sleeping forms while the minotaur drew a long, shining sword.
As the enchanted metal of the fighter cut the substance of the devil great flames burst forth. I could jus