Battle Quest Book Playthrough – Caves of Fury - Part 3
By Casey Douglass
Welcome to Part 3 of my
adventure through the Caves of Fury, a Battle Quest book where
turning to certain pages means you can control the path of your
treasure-seeking barbarian warrior. If you are joining the series
late, part 1 can be found at this link, with other links finally
bringing you back to this instalment, once you’ve brushed up on the
tale so far. I’m good like that.
Part 2 ended in a
prison of stalactites and ‘mites, with my barbarian beheading a
monster and lifting his first piece of treasure: a lovely glittering
diamond. It helped put his run-in with the crotchety old wizard who’d
scorched his chest into perspective at least. Finally, he has
something to show for his labours, beyond his wounds and feeling
knackered. Let’s see how his tale continues...
In a turn up for the
unlikely, our plucky barbarian finds himself at the edge of an
underground swamp. It smells of rot and decay, and its main feature
seems to be a massive lake, its surface algae-covered and perfectly
calm. It seems to share a few elements with the watery cave in which
a certain hobbit meets a certain Gollum, but there’s more greenery
and less fishezes, at least, that are visible. The other difference
are the stepping stones that stretch across the lake, appearing to go
all the way to the other side.
Seeing no other route,
I step onto the first stepping stone, waiting for something evil to
grab my ankle and pull me down into the water. Not even a ripple! I
step onto the next, and the next. It’s all going very well isn’t
it? It’s as I get to the tenth stepping stone that it all starts to
go wrong. A shriek sounds behind me on the shore that I’d just
departed. The fright almost sends me into the water, which at this
stage, I have no idea how deep it is or what’s in there.
Carefully, I turn and
see an irate goblin waving his arms, shouting at me that if I step on
the next stone, I'll drown! He says that every tenth stone is a trap
and that I should jump straight over it to the next one! Now, I
wasn’t born yesterday. I know how tricky these goblins can be. For
a start, they hate anyone taller than them, which is pretty much
everyone. Another factor is that they lie more often than they tell
the truth, but when they do tell the truth, the disbelieving of it
usually leads to disaster anyway. You can’t win is what I’m
saying.
I try to reason things
out. Firstly, every tenth stone being a trap seems a bit arbitrary to
me. Why not the seventh or fourteenth? Then again, I can understand
why letting someone walk on nine stones might build their confidence
enough to not be so careful for the tenth. Also, why more than one
trapped stone? It doesn’t sound like the person who made the trap
is particularly confident that it will achieve its goal first time
around. Another thing, if the goblin is trying to get me into a trap,
what kind of trap would need me to actually jump on it to trigger,
rather than merely stepping on it? His having to shout at me isn’t
a very efficient way to catch out the unwary. Consider me very wary!
The book gives me the
option of using a trance spell to wheedle the truth out of his nasty
goblin mind, but I don’t have one, and even if I did, I’d imagine
his brain is full of yucky goblin pornography and strange, secret
perversions. Another thought occurs to me. Why should he shout at me
at all, as I would have been bound to step on the trapped stone
anyway? It’s a bad situation. I decide to trust him, but vow to
myself to wring his scrawny neck if things go badly, and if I later
get the chance. I make the leap over stepping stone ten.
I’ve almost landed on
stone number eleven when it recedes out of sight under the murky
water! I plunge into the lake, the weeds and other growth starting to
pull me down as they attach to my body. The book tells me that I lose
One Strength. Fucking great... another one down! As I splutter and
struggle for air, I reflect on how, if I’d not jumped, I’d
probably have been able to stop myself from falling in. Bastard
goblin!
Through the glugging of
the water in my ears, I hear laughter and see a small raft coming
towards me, the grinning face of the goblin looming into view. He
pokes me with his paddle and teases it just out of reach, enjoying
the spectacle. An idea flashes across my mind, something that might
get me out of this. I yell that I’m one of Cragcliff’s bodyguards
and that I’ve lost my way. The look of fear that washes over his
face is a beautiful thing to behold, well, if your concept of beauty
looks like a constipated goblin-face. Then it happens, the thing that
I should have predicted. He wants to know the password.
I’d sigh if I wasn’t
struggling for air. The book gives me three options as usual, and as
usual, I choose the middle one: GARLON. (Sadly, Googling the meaning
of GARLON didn’t return any humorous or naughty double entendres as
to its meaning, I guess I got lucky with the other password attempt
in part two). Wouldn’t you know it, it was the wrong password, yet
again! It’s a pity that there wasn’t an option to whisper the
password, and when he leaned in closer to hear me, drag him in with me!
The goblin swears at me
and calls me a dog as the water drags me below the surface one last
time. The little idiot doesn’t realise what I’m doing though. I
have a palm to the underside of his raft and slowly pull myself
underwater to the opposite side, feeling the clutching strands of
vegetation unwind from my legs as I go. I ever so carefully pull
myself up and clear of the lake, trying not to tip the rickety thing
too much and alert him to my presence. The little thug is too busy
craning his neck over the other side, trying to see if I’ve drowned
yet. I see red and give him a mighty shove, sending him not just
overboard but well beyond the row of stepping stones too.
He squeals like a
flying pig that isn’t quite sure why it’s flying. He then squeals
like a pig that’s fallen in a lake and can’t swim. Can pigs swim?
(Google: Yes they can!) Weariness claims me and I collapse to the
deck of the raft. I smile at the sounds the goblin is making and wish
him a slow death. The book tells me that the struggle to keep afloat
and to not drown has cost me another Strength. I have only two left
now. It’s not looking good. On the plus side, my scorched chest
feels soothed by the water. I just hope it doesn’t pick up a nasty
infection from the algae. It would be just my luck after all. My last
thoughts are two in number: I’m not choosing the bloody middle
option for passwords or paths any more, and secondly, I really wish
I’d strangled that goblin, just like I’d wanted to. I pass out.
That’s where I’ll
leave this session, my barbarian unconscious and floating on a small
raft in the middle of an underground swamp with a drowning goblin
nearby. If this was a TV series, the camera would slowly be pulling
up to show more and more of what's around him, which knowing my
adventurer’s luck, would be a host of strange creatures circling in
for the kill. The music to accompany this would be slow and
synth-based, maybe a single deep tone wavering with menace. I quite
like the sound of that actually.
***
If you enjoyed reading
about my adventure so far, join me again soon for Part Four of my
delve into the Caves of Fury,
coming out next weekend.
