Monstrous Bat
Cipher
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2011
- Messages
- 638
The Magic Candle is a (supposedly) Classic RPG created in 1989 by Mindcraft. According to what I've heard, the game is quite good. The game plays very similiar to the early Ultimas (U4 or U5): roam in a large world, visit towns, collect clues, explore dungeons, etc. Is the game really as good as they say? Let's find out!
HEROES WANTED
The Lands of Deruvia are in dire peril. A band of brave companions must be formed. Volunteers
report to our royal castle.
Rebnard, King of Deruvia.
This was written on the paper tacked to the signpost on the road to Phaleng. The young ranger called Lukas had hidden in the underbrush while the man in monk's robes posted the paper in the mists of dawn. He had read the paper at sunrise, and returned to his hiding place. He had watched a band of orcs tear the paper down, defile it, and grind its shreds into the dirt. Lukas well knew that Deruvia was no longer the peaceful domain of the Children of Light. Orcs and wolvinga from across the eastern sea wandered the countryside of Pheron at will. the Children of Light were still safe within their towns, villages and castles, but could travel the roads of Deruvia only at the whim of the forces of Darkness. But this paper must mean that the plight of Deruvia was desperate! How could the King expect to raise a force of heroes with a few papers that would not last from dawn until the dew was dry? Lukas touched his belt buckle - his only legacy of the father he had never known - and felt his destiny descend upon him. His years of service to the forests of Pheron were at an end. He must present himself at King Rebnard's court and do everything in his power to save Deruvia and the Children of Light. Lukas had gazed upon King Rebnard's castle from afar many times, but had never before left the forests of Pheron to enter its gates. The splendor of the castle was more than he had imagined: the towering ceilings, the intricate tapestries, the marble fountain in the main hall. . . . Lukas saw splendor, but could no marvel at is as he wished. A pall of gloom seemed to hang over the entire castle, damping everyone's spirits. The papers posted about the countryside had done thief job after all: many heroes of Deruvia had answered King Rebnard's summons. But all seemed to feel, as Lukas sometimes did himself, that this was not a call to a glorious quest. This was, instead, a final meaningless gesture, a hopeless sacrifice of the Children of Light to the powers of Darkness. Why were they here? Commander Grolf of the royal guard guided the heroes to their barracks, but he would not say why they had been called. The servants who cleaned their clothes and served their food, Dincher and Gelhad, had no idea why the call had been sent out. Sir Brontos, the Honorable Rimfiztrik, and the elf, Prince Nethien of Trilliad, drilled the heroes all day in swordplay, spell-casting and archery, but would not tell them why. Lukas felt nothing but frustration. In the bunk below him, his old friend Nazim felt the same. Something very important was happening, but what? Lukas glanced around the barracks. In the next bunk, Alhan was oiling and sharpening his gem-cutting tools, and Amad was sound asleep. No point in bothering them. Same story beyond them: Nehor asleep, and Eflun crouched over his spell book. Lukas wished, not for the first time, that he had taken his magic lessons more seriously. A few more months, and he would have earned his own spell book...it would have given him something to do on a night like this. Across the aisle was Sakar, the dwarf. Furiously sharpening his axe, Sakar did everything furiously. No wonder that nobody chose him for a bunkmate... Beyond Sakar were the halflings. Miko, Jimbo and Min. Lukas wondered once more why the halflings had been given barracks space.
Cute little fellows, and fine company, but what could they do to defeat the Forces of Darkness? Beat zorlims and trolls at dice? For that was what they were doing now. Playing dice. Not with zorlims and trolls, of course, but with three guards from the castle. No, two guards and someone else...Lord Bhardagast?? Yes, King Rebnard's Chief Advisor! The halflings had a wider circle of friends than Lukas had imagined! What was Bhardagast saying? As Sakar paused to look for a polishing rag, Lukas overheard a few words. The 44 guardians of the Magic Candle. They had...vanished?? Deruvia's peril was dire indeed! Suppressing a sigh, Lukas began to undress for the night. His fingers touched his father's legacy. A belt buckle. A pair of brass circles fused together. A device to keep his trousers secure on his waist and to bear the weight of his sword in its scabbard. Lucas knew enough of magic to recognize the buckle as nothing more than it seemed. It would not transport him through the skies; it would not turn away evil magics; it would not bring lightning bolts down upon his enemies. It would hold his trousers up, that was all, and even for that it would need the help of a strong leather belt. But that was not all. Magic was not all. Strength was not all. What the buckle gave Lukas was not magic, nor was it strength. It was certainly not comfort. All Lukas could tell, as the days wore on at King Rebnard's castle, was that his heirloom--a simple belt buckle-seemed to protect him from the descending curtain of gloom and despair. Perhaps all the buckle gave him was hope. Perhaps that was enough.
The Lands of Deruvia are in dire peril. A band of brave companions must be formed. Volunteers
report to our royal castle.
Rebnard, King of Deruvia.
This was written on the paper tacked to the signpost on the road to Phaleng. The young ranger called Lukas had hidden in the underbrush while the man in monk's robes posted the paper in the mists of dawn. He had read the paper at sunrise, and returned to his hiding place. He had watched a band of orcs tear the paper down, defile it, and grind its shreds into the dirt. Lukas well knew that Deruvia was no longer the peaceful domain of the Children of Light. Orcs and wolvinga from across the eastern sea wandered the countryside of Pheron at will. the Children of Light were still safe within their towns, villages and castles, but could travel the roads of Deruvia only at the whim of the forces of Darkness. But this paper must mean that the plight of Deruvia was desperate! How could the King expect to raise a force of heroes with a few papers that would not last from dawn until the dew was dry? Lukas touched his belt buckle - his only legacy of the father he had never known - and felt his destiny descend upon him. His years of service to the forests of Pheron were at an end. He must present himself at King Rebnard's court and do everything in his power to save Deruvia and the Children of Light. Lukas had gazed upon King Rebnard's castle from afar many times, but had never before left the forests of Pheron to enter its gates. The splendor of the castle was more than he had imagined: the towering ceilings, the intricate tapestries, the marble fountain in the main hall. . . . Lukas saw splendor, but could no marvel at is as he wished. A pall of gloom seemed to hang over the entire castle, damping everyone's spirits. The papers posted about the countryside had done thief job after all: many heroes of Deruvia had answered King Rebnard's summons. But all seemed to feel, as Lukas sometimes did himself, that this was not a call to a glorious quest. This was, instead, a final meaningless gesture, a hopeless sacrifice of the Children of Light to the powers of Darkness. Why were they here? Commander Grolf of the royal guard guided the heroes to their barracks, but he would not say why they had been called. The servants who cleaned their clothes and served their food, Dincher and Gelhad, had no idea why the call had been sent out. Sir Brontos, the Honorable Rimfiztrik, and the elf, Prince Nethien of Trilliad, drilled the heroes all day in swordplay, spell-casting and archery, but would not tell them why. Lukas felt nothing but frustration. In the bunk below him, his old friend Nazim felt the same. Something very important was happening, but what? Lukas glanced around the barracks. In the next bunk, Alhan was oiling and sharpening his gem-cutting tools, and Amad was sound asleep. No point in bothering them. Same story beyond them: Nehor asleep, and Eflun crouched over his spell book. Lukas wished, not for the first time, that he had taken his magic lessons more seriously. A few more months, and he would have earned his own spell book...it would have given him something to do on a night like this. Across the aisle was Sakar, the dwarf. Furiously sharpening his axe, Sakar did everything furiously. No wonder that nobody chose him for a bunkmate... Beyond Sakar were the halflings. Miko, Jimbo and Min. Lukas wondered once more why the halflings had been given barracks space.
Cute little fellows, and fine company, but what could they do to defeat the Forces of Darkness? Beat zorlims and trolls at dice? For that was what they were doing now. Playing dice. Not with zorlims and trolls, of course, but with three guards from the castle. No, two guards and someone else...Lord Bhardagast?? Yes, King Rebnard's Chief Advisor! The halflings had a wider circle of friends than Lukas had imagined! What was Bhardagast saying? As Sakar paused to look for a polishing rag, Lukas overheard a few words. The 44 guardians of the Magic Candle. They had...vanished?? Deruvia's peril was dire indeed! Suppressing a sigh, Lukas began to undress for the night. His fingers touched his father's legacy. A belt buckle. A pair of brass circles fused together. A device to keep his trousers secure on his waist and to bear the weight of his sword in its scabbard. Lucas knew enough of magic to recognize the buckle as nothing more than it seemed. It would not transport him through the skies; it would not turn away evil magics; it would not bring lightning bolts down upon his enemies. It would hold his trousers up, that was all, and even for that it would need the help of a strong leather belt. But that was not all. Magic was not all. Strength was not all. What the buckle gave Lukas was not magic, nor was it strength. It was certainly not comfort. All Lukas could tell, as the days wore on at King Rebnard's castle, was that his heirloom--a simple belt buckle-seemed to protect him from the descending curtain of gloom and despair. Perhaps all the buckle gave him was hope. Perhaps that was enough.
Oh, and of course, this is a blind LP, so no spoilers please!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Recruiting heroes
Preparing for adventure
Port Avur
Stopping the trolling
Seeking for Dermagud
Temple of Valon
The charming troll
The other castle
Gem trading
Grave robbery
White Wolf
Zirvanad
Crusaders of Khazan
Crystal dust
Gaining power
Godwin's Law
Levers and obelisks
The Candle Repaired
Bonus Update: The Shocking Relevation