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2021-04-15 11:31:59 -07:00
Phantasie
(Logical Design Works)
(Tales of Wonder - witness accounts of The Rescue of Gelnor)
Tale of the Trader
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.
Kerlin Battings
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.
Diary of the Miller's Daughter
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.
The Vicar's Sermon
...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