Black Cat
Magister
Chapter the first; Another witch hunt? Really?
In which we get to read the introduction to the plot, which is about all the plot we will ever get, and then receive a quick tutorial on how to play Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Afterwards our heroine will play through the prologue and get her meat puppet killed so we can delight in the bloody carnage.
Released in 1990, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark was Horrorsoft's second game, as far as I know, and the first in their awesome trilogy of B-Horror inspired dungeon crawlers with kind of silly plots, a noticeable focus on the exploration and the adventure elements, and plenty of awfuly grotesque ways for our characters to die. Their previous game, Personal Nightmare, was kind of along the same lines but much more of a classical adventure with a tight time limit than a dungeon crawl.
Our meatpuppet in this game is a nameless castle cleaner, a kind of amateurish ghostbuster making a living on tending to paranormal phenomena in old castles and houses, contracted by the titular and kind of iconic silly B grade movie hostess to face the legions of hell that have invaded her old familiar castle to try and revive her evil witch of an ancestor and spread darkness over the entire world. As you may have already noticed you should be leaving the premises if you are from the storyfagotry bureau, for there's nothing here for you. At all. Not even a little bit.
If you aren't one of those, however, the game's pretty cool. You get to explore the castle and die many a bloody and painful death, to solve some inventory puzzles and duel many monsters while collecting magical reagents for Elvira and searching for the keys hidden around the place or protected by the most powerful monsters, trying not to work ourselves into a dead corner that would force us to restart and more. And there's also that underlying silliness to it all, creating that very same atmosphere of being inside a really cheesy and kind of genre savvy B-Movie that Waxworks had, and that the sequel to Mistress of the Dark, Jaws of Cerberus, takes to its natural, and most literal, extreme.
But then that's kind of obvious in a game series that shares roots, themes, and more, with this movie.
In any case, and as I always do, this first update is just for introductions, background information, and the like. This is kind of important with this game because, as was normal among games from the time, the only background we are going to ever get is printed on the manual, and the rest of the game will kind of assume you already know it much in the same way Waxworks assumed we knew the plot from the manual and went straight to the gameplay with just a small sumary at the begining, so we more or less didn't knew we had to save our Bro until we, like, did it, and stuff.
So, let's
KILLBRAGANT
England
September 21
Dear Diary,
That creepy portrait in the castle's front hallway should have tipped me off right away. I mean, I'm not used to running into people who look exactly like me - especially people who've been dead over 100 years. So my First Encounter with Lady Emelda of Killbragant was definitely of the Weird Kind.
Maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised. According to the papers from the attorneys (Dybbuk, Doppelganger, Wraith, and Eldritch), the resemblance isn't just coincidence: it turns out Lady Emelda was also my Great-Great Grandmama Emelda. It also turns out that, with the demise of my evil Uncle Elmo, I now own this place - lock, stock, and dungeon.
In case someone wonders, a Dybbuk is a kind of evil spirit of Jewish and Qabalistic lore. When someone really sinful or wicked dies one of those things may be spawned, which are basicaly the spirit of the deceased after either escaping from hell, being rejected entrance to hell, or being kind of recruited by hell. A newly created, level one Dybbuk has only the power to slightly influence thoughts, emotions, ideas, etc. A powerful and ancient Dybbuk, meanwhile, is a very powerful form of errant influence and may be even able to, similarly to a demon, possess the living or even steal their bodies after kicking the previous tenant out.
They are, in a way, not very different to the Gaki, but while the Gaki are hungry spirits eternally lusting after some particular thing and influencing the living into pursuing such things to feed on their feeding on it, the Dybbuks are spirits lusting after a life and a body, and not caring who they screw along the way.
Apart from the striking family resemblance, I've got to admire Emelda's taste in clothes: she sure gets a lot of mileage out of that little black number she's barely wearing in her portrait. Too bad I can't say the same for this rockpile's decor: pretty dusty and musty, but nothing that can't be fixed with some neon lighting, a couple of Naugahyde couches, and a few movie posters alongside those strange paintings with the shifty eyeballs.
I'd like to turn this place into sort of a macabre bed-and-breakfast - the kind of place you visit if your idea of "bed" includes marble slabs, and "breakfast" is blood sausage and Killer Tomatoes. After all, there's a hedge maze in the garden, a kitchen that's better equipped than Dr. Frankenstein's lab, enough bedrooms upstairs to hold all of Them, and some great views of the northern English moors from the roof - so Killbragant should be a wicked place to entertain a few tourists when I get it cleaned up.
October 9
My redecorating project is coming along: we may even get the place open for the Halloween season. But these days life is getting stranger than "The head with two things"... Uh, I mean "The thing with two heads!"
Not even my jokes are that bad. I'm really impressed.
This afternoon, while crawling through a heap of legal papers big enough to hide Rodan, I found an old clipping from the local paper that may explain why the place has been deserted since the Bloody Mary days. They ran it as a Halloween gag, but it reads more like a late-night horror movie.
It seems that Great-Great Grandmama Emelda was married to this kinda boring dude. Sir Eric, who spent a lot of time on the road managing the family affairs in India. He left time with nobody but a few bats to keep her company - until this guy Lord Beremnd showed up one day, and started a little family affair of his own.
Beremond was some sort of evil wizard who had a readl way with women. He sure had a way with Grandmama, because she invited the creep to move in with her. They wrere a real fun couple: when they weren't upstairs doing nasty things to each other, they were downstairs doing nasty things to the terrorized locals ... or down in the catacombs conjuring even more nasty things from the Realms Beyond.
Apparently, Beremond thought he was Evil Incarnate, and everyone else was inclined to agree, mainly because he made the entire county worship him (kinda like some Hollywood producers I've known) on pain of violent death. Before long, the entire neighborhood looked like a permanent Night of the Living Dead.
So, anyway, Beremond and Emelda were the original gruesome twosome ... until the day Beremond was hit by a stray arrow during a hunting trip, which punched his one-way ticket to Goonland. Emelda took over the operation, with the help of some unearthly beasties, a handful of ghoulish Handmaidens, and an army of Palace Guards From Hell.
Of course, the next time Sir Elric checked in, he wasn't exactly thrilled. The crops were dead, the tenant farmers had been massacred, a gang of goblins was gyrating in his foyer, and his wife had obviously been getting beauty tips from the Bride of Frankenstein. Not that he was around long enough to gripe about it: shortly after he got home, Emelda seduced him, suckered him into a compromising position, and ran him through with the old family sword.
End of problem - except for Elric's little revenge, who was born nine months later and grew up to be my great grandpa. Understandably, the kid left home as soon as he was old enough to be allowed ouside alone after dark.
Emelda died many years later, (much to her own surprise: she was sure that Satan was going to make her immortal, which is a line that anyone who's done time in Hollywood would never fall for). Instead, she had to settle for resurrection sometime in the far-off future (a sort of diabolical don't-call-us-we'll-call-you). The directions for starting (and stopping) her resurrection are supposed to be somewhere here in the castle - part of "The Scroll of Spiritual Mastery" hidden in an old chest. The chest takes six keys to unlock. She gave the keys to her loyal flunkies, and told them that if they held onto them, they could come back with her the second time around - and this time, they'd rule the world.
The neighbors believe that her gang of ghosts and ghouls still haunt this place. In fact, the vicar and some of the town honchos took me to tea this afternoon - nice folks, though a little eccentric - and were emphatic that the place will need "a thorough cleaning out" before it's safe to inhabit.
I don't think they mean mopping down the staircase with Mr. Clean.
Do I believe them? I'm not sure - the story's weird, but I'm in show business, and I've heard weirder. I'm definitely putting it in the castle's tourist brochure, though: it's bound to attract the right kind of people. And as far as my own safety is concerned, it seems stupid to rent a hotel room in town when I've got my own castle to stay in.
I'd write more, but it's getting dark out, and there's a lot to get done around here. Also, I think I hear someone walking around downstairs, so I'm gonna go check it out. Later -
Halloween Eve
That little fable about Grandmama Emelda was a cute story - but not that cute. When I decided to open the place up for "Elvira's Horror Weekends," I hoped the place would be full from basement to battlements by Halloween. It is - but this isn't quite the kind of company I had in mind.
For one thing, these guests aren't paying.
For another, they're not even alive.
None of this, of course, has stopped them from taking over the place, like they owned it or something.
It started out a few weeks back, when a few odd monks started wandering around downstairs in the middle of the night. I enjoy meeting men of the cloth, and figured I'd be friendly with them, until I realized that there was nothing under the cloth. I'm talking incorporeal. (And I don't know what incorporeal means!)
The monks turned out to be the advance men for a growing army of creepy critters - gremlins who like to play hide-and-seek in the hedge maze, soldiers guarding the bedrooms, skeletons doing Grateful Dead impersonations in the catacombs downstairs - and busloads of more beasties arriving every day.
Worst of all (at least of all the ones I know about) is the incorporeal corporal who's manning the gatehouse out front 24 hours a day ... sort of Gomer Pyle meets the Marquis de Sade. Because of him, I can't get out of here - and if I could, I wouldn't get back in alive. In fact, with all the traffic in the hallways. I'm sort of stuck in the kitchen with nothing but a few cookbooks to keep me company.
It's clear to me now that this little creature convention has been called in my honor. Seems that in the course of the restoration, I've also revived Emelda's memory - along with several hundred of her closest friends. The sordid little legend of Emelda the Evil is becoming more real every day. And if things continue, I may soon get to meet her face-to-fangs - not my idea of a warm family reunion.
I've got to shake down my houseguests until I find those six keys, get my hands on Emelda's chest, and find out how to put a stop to Grandmama's imminent return.
But I may not have to do it all alone. Help should be arriving any minute. The last time I ventured out of Killbragant, I picked up a copy of "Broomsticks Weekly" and got in touch with one of the freelance ghostbusters who advertise in the back pages. They agreed to come over today and give me an estimate. If they're smart enough to let themselves into the castle - and avoid the Freddy Krueger clone at the gatehouse - we have a slim chance of stopping Emelda's return, and reclaiming Killbragant (and maybe the whole world) for the living.
I just might be in business after all.
So that's all of our plot already taken care of, ladies and gentlemen. In order to stop Emelda the evil witch from returning and bringing hell to earth or whatever she's trying to do we need to find six keys and Emelda's own chest, and thus to the book containing the secrets of her return. From here on it's about how we get to do it, how her nasties try to stop us from doing so, and how the game abuses us as we advance.
This is the first thing we see upon arriving to Elvira's castle.
As you can see, it's quite similar to Waxworks' interface, if a bit rougher. Room shows us on the black square in the lower center of the screen the items we have already noticed, or left, in the room we are in. In the same window does Inventory list our inventory and Weapons our, uhm, weapons. Up and Down are obvious. The four arrows too. On the oposite side we have a list of all available verbs, the ones that can be applied to what we have clicked on, in this case our bag, lit. Below we have the options to pause, save, and load, and pause actually doubles as quit. The two eyes at the lower corners serve the purpose or indicating damage taken or done when out of the combat screen, mostly when using or suffering from magic, or when running away. The left eye is what they do to us, the right one what we do to them.
Then we have our stats. Strength governs how much damage we do in melee combat and how much we can carry before becoming encumbered. Resilience determines the amount of damage we can take or absorv. Dexterity is about having the initiative at the start of a fight and how fast we will regain it as the combat progresses. Skill is about how proficient and cool we are with our currently equiped weapon, and raises the more we use it. Life is, more or less, our HP. Experience I believe works more of a progress or completion indicator than the traditional way.
That's more or less it. Right now we only have a grey canvas bag with a shoulder strap, yay. The only interactive element on the first screen is the white sign next to the castle's entrance, and there we click.
We proceed to the, uhm, area between the outer gate and the inner gate of the castle. The gatehouse? The, uhm, airlock? In any case, there we are. Then we proceed through the door to the left, which happens to be the office of the captain of the guard. Oops.
"Guards!!!", he yells, "Take this low life to the dungeon and search him. He can rot down there with the other rats."
Yum, rats. :3
"You won't last long. One of Emelda's pets will make a meal out of you. Take him away."
"Follow me pinhead."
"You are lucky he didn't tie your weeny in a granny knot.
I suppose you'll have to do. I'm desperate. You must find and open a chest and use the contents to destroy Emelda.
Listen, I have made up some spells to help you and you can borrow this little knife."
During the game Elvira will make us any spell we need as long as we have collected the components ourselves. However, the formulas aren't listed in the game itself but on the manual, so it works kind of like a copy protection scheme. Also, we will need to recover Elvira's spellbook before we can count on her witcheries.
"Here they are."
"I can't make any more until you find my spell book, a strange looking guy in a sack took it off me."
A... what?
"Start down in the castle courtyard, it will be safer there."
There's nowhere safe on this bloody castle, believe me.
"Now get out of here, and do what you are being paid for. I will be in the kitchen if you find the book. Some hope. Why do I always get the Jerk!"
We now appear outside, in the courtyard. Behind us is the door to the dungeon we just escaped from. First things first, I use the dagger to make it my chosen weapon. Then I examine the spells to see what I have. The two potions are Fire Dagger and Fingerlight, and drinking them will give us a given amount of castings of the corresponding spell. The jelly like thingy is for healing.
Since we are with the spells, the spellbook is actually pretty funny in that it is written in the same kind of faux olde englishe many english speaking Wiccans, Neopagans, and other classes of Next Gen witches just love to write their
Thorny Splinter
Required elementes: Firethorn & Nettles
Boyle four handfuls of nettles for ten minutes and strain off
the liquid, discarding the nettles. Add thorns from the
Firethorn bush and allow to brew for one hour. Bottle &
drink as soon as cool. Takes one and a half hours to prepare.
Drinking this potion will arm the drinkers with Fire Dagger
spelles.
Fingerlight
Required elementes: Earwigges, Deadly Knightshade and
Belladonna
Extract the juice from a saucepan full of Nightshade berries,
add five earwigges and one chopped belladonna leaf to the
juice and allow to stand for twenty minutes. Drain the liquid
into a bottle and drink immediately.
Preparation takes twenty five minutes. When drunk this
potion imbues the user with the ability to cast Fingerlight
spelles (lightning boltes).
And I don't remember which was the name of the one that gave you the Healing Jelly thingie so I will have to post that one later. In any case, the main, and maybe only, way to increase your stats other than experience and skill is to use potions that temporarily do so, with or without added side effects. It's a pretty cool system that adds extra complications to the experience, given spell ingredients are very limited on this game.
Before closing this introductory update, however, there are two more things that need to be done. The first is explaining the combat system, and for that I have already something in mind: I wander around the courtyard until I get my bearings and then go straight to the gatehouse, my small dagger in hand and ready for a duel that will shake the heavens! Along the way we notice we are now trapped here, because otherwise it wouldn't be fun at all.
The captain of Emelda's guards knows his time has come and, without further words, stands and prepares his sword. Then we see, for the first time, the combat interface, and we can use either the main window or the menu to the right to fight: Lunge is the same than clicking on the left half of the main view, and hack the same than doing so on the right half. The one who has the most initiative goes first, in this case us. Depending on how the round goes and how effective our attacks are we keep the initiative and go again or he obtains it and we must defend. In the later case the words will change into block and parry, and again they will be equivalent to clicking on the left or right, respectively, halves of the main view. To know which one to click you must learn to read the animations the enemy do when attacking: He will do one animation when you must block and he will do a diferent one when you must parry, both ending with the attack hiting you on the half of the main view that goes with that defensive maneuver.
Finally, the numbers below the two buttons indicate the damage we are doing the enemy, while the numbers above them indicates the damage we are receiving. I did not take many screenshots because I was actually trying to win and this battle is pretty difficult, but let's just say I was really rusty and it did not went as planned.
And that was the second thing we did need to do: The death screens! Now our Elvira experience is complete, and next time we meet we will actually begin exploring the castle and stuff. And whether I am good or bad at the combat is kind of a crapshot: Some days I devastate everything without even trying, some days everything kills me without giving me the least chance. So you'll get to see death screens a whole lot, I reckon.
That's it for today.
See you next time!