elcome to my sanctuary, weary stranger! Have a mug of ale, and listen up, for I will reveal to you,
the secrets of ancient Medievia. Restless at heart, I started my misadventures
at the age of 17, traveling further and further away from the city of Medievia as the
years and my experience gained. I always carefully jotted down every detail of what i learned, so that one day my
tales would be available for all who seek it. But time goes on, and as the years of my youth end, I may one day have
to settle down; therefore, if you have a story or useful information that you would like to pass on, I'd be very happy
to include your contribution to my tomes. I can usually be found exploring Medievia, but if not you can send a letter
and my clerk will make sure I get it.
Lafay, the Harvester of Sorrow
The 33rd Day of the Month of the Scorpion, Year 498.
Wytherwind
If you are going to complete this zone you will have to read all the descriptions really well, I have not included a complete map as this would spoil the fun of exploring. Have fun, this zone is great
6
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o
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o---o <----beneath the basement
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o---o
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3d
6---o---o o
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o---o---o o---o
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o o---o---o o---o---o
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o---3u o o o---o---o
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o-\-o---o o o---o o o
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o 3---o o---o---o o o---o <----basement, beneath the castle
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o---o---o---o---o---o---o---o
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o o---a o 1---o---o---o
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o---o o---o o o
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*---o---o---o o---o---o
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o---o---o o---o
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o---b
o
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o
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o---o---o---o
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o---o---o
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o---o---o
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o
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o---o
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o---o o---o---o---o---o---o---o
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o---o---o---o o---o---o o---o---o---@ <-----zone entrance
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o o---a o 1 o---o---o o
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o---o---o 2 o---o---o---o
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o o---o---o
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o---o---o
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b
o o o
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o---o---o---o---o---o o---o---o
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t o o---o---o o <-----the upper floor
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o---o...o---2 o---o---o
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* o o
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o---o---o---o---o---o
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o o
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o
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o---o
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o.....to gas cloud, the go w,w,s,d, kill Antygen, then go down back to the Odd sitting room
The paper contains three strange figures, nearly worn away with age...
* * x *
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*-*-x *-*-* * *
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x *-*
You flip to the first page of the small volume...
\ /\ / ithin each wizard and each warrior, within the soulfull piety
\ / \ / of the cleric, and the glutonous infamy of the thief, within
\ / the heart of the lonesome poet, and the hardened agility of
the valient knight, rests, in proper proportions and in
improper proportions, the virtues of the gods, in, be assured, vastly
imperfect forms. Courage, the destination of the warrior, Compassion,
the life of the cleric, Intelligence, Agility, Constitution, all the
great virtues which, embodied in the creations of /\
the gods, seek out the destiny of the world. One ||
virtue, however, the first virtue, the governing ||
aspect of the human soul, which springs like a ||
fountain from the minds of the virtuous, and which |----|
consistantly shows merry a trickle from the thick ||
minds of the wicked, controls the interaction of **
the other virtues. That savior virtue is Wisdom. Without Wisdom,
Courage leads to foolheartedness, Strength leads to destruction,
Compassion leads to folly, and Intelligence leads to oblivion.
Within the greatest heroes and heroines in history, an underlying
ocean of wisdom contributes to courage and wit, and feeds on those
tributary aspects, enabling the reknown acts for which heroes are
immortalized. During the fall of the ancient land of Wytherwind, whose
powerful tradition will soon slip forever out of the
\\\__________\ sight of men, there lived in the court of King Henner
/// / one such virtuous individual, not among the valiant
ranks of the armored, ivory guards, not among the
\\\__________\ apprentices and masters in the Mages of the Western
/// / Wind, not even among the peasants in their hot
fields, whose toil would serve them better than most
\\\__________\ in the line of courage. The hero of Wytherwind
/// / watched with penetrating sight from the great swaying
tower of the castle. She was no more removed from
the understanding of the human soul than her long removed ancestor
Chartra, and she was no more removed from the comprehension of her
land's final, desperate hour, than the great ivory order and her
father, the noble King Henner. She was what a true hero always is,
quite reluctant to be a hero.
After her beloved Kir had been taken lost for several days
Marigeld feared the worst, and though her mourning was great, she
managed to slowly build her own plan of action. Her mother's illness
and death several months before had been the beginning of the evil
that had since plagued the land. The King, her father, was beside
himself with grief for his land and queen, and sat, as if in a trance,
upon his impotent throne, and the sentinels of the great ivory guard
walked the halls in servitude to Antygon. During the time of his
return and the disappearance of Kir, the Master of the Western Wind had
succeeded in enchanting the court into a mindless trance, and used the
store of armor in the great armory to built a massive mound of iron,
which, by some insidiously wicked encantation, he bestowed with deranged
life (though it is said that he failed in his first attempts, and that
the results of which, creations of hideous conception, writhe, chained
in the lower levels of the castle). This great iron dragon, this silver
tongued, silver winged, serpent he set to guard the energy of the souls
he had entrapped from the court, from which he began to draw more and
more power.
Marigeld decided that the best course of action would be to use
Antygon's evil creation against him, and though she loathed the idea of
seeking out the hideous beast, she headed into ________
the southern wing of the castle, where Antygon \ /
lived with his foul beast, and, pretending to c o o o/
be entranced and soulless, she slipped past the \____/
guards and found the beast atop the southern /\
tower, fast asleep, with its pouch of souls \/
strung around its body and the great Ivory Cup /\
nestled between its iron-scaled legs. She /__\
crept up to the resting beast and deftly
reached for the sacred cup. But, the great silver dragon awoke with a
snort, when Marigeld had but removed the cup a hand or two from the coils
of the beast. It snarled and reared back, but through some strange twist
of luck, Marigeld's hold on the cup was unaffected and she stumbled back
from the uncoiling beast, the glintering cup in her hands.
Marigeld fled in terror from the tower, pursued hotly by the
enraged serpent, whose scorching breath obliterated everything in its
path. The serpent was beyond thought, Marigeld had unleashed a totally
unexpected turn of events. The great dragon was killing everything. It
stormed through the halls in search of its lost prize, roasting and
destroy everyone and everything in its path. Marigeld fled to the top
of the northern tower, to the queens balcony, where she hastily
deliberated over what she should do with the gleaming chalice in her
hands. She heard the serpent storming through the halls below, and
realized that it would never stop, till it had the cup back. She also
realized that this was her (and Wytherwind's) salvation. She hide the
cup and raced out into the hall, slipping back through the king's
chambers and into the southern hallway, back into the darkened interior,
where the evil mage rested.
At the end of the hallway, and the beginning of the small western
tower she found that a strange blue flame had engulfed the stairwell
leading to the mage's chamber. She feared the
dancing light, though it radiated no heat, but <|
she could here the dragon returning along the |
corridor and she had no time to deliberate, so / \
she dove into the crackling blue flames and / \
ran through the maelstrom to the mage's room. /_____\
The room was deserted but a glance through the _|_______|_
western window revealed a strange cloud of vapor |___________|
that swirled with mystical colors and writhed | |
back and forth like a vaporous whirlpool. | |
Clasping her hands to her chest, she stepped | |
off the sill and into the strange cloud, which
bore her up and seemed thick enough to stand in, though if she rested for
too long she felt as though she was sinking. After wandering about in
the colored oblivion she suddenly found herself standing in the small
study of the enchanter.
The great mage rose from his desk in surprise, and reached for
his hideous scepter, which rested on the end table, by his bed. But
Marigeld was quick, sensing that the great beast approached she searched
the room for escape, and found an odd portal in the corner, through
which she could see a small sitting room. She knew she had no time to
waste and dove into the shimmering hole, just as the silver serpent
appeared from the swirling fog above. Marigeld found herself standing
on top of a desk in a tiny room which she knew well, for it was the
small sitting room next to the library where she had often read. She
jumped down and stopped in terror as a great, shrill cry rang out
through the castle, followed by a magnificent roar. She couldn't help
but smile, pleased at the affect of her actions, but she knew that she
must not waste time, she had to get back to the cup and flee her beloved
home, for the dragon would not stop its hunt for her and the Ivory
Chalice.
You are cherry pick
five hundred and eighty-eight
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