I'm sure there are other logos I can use but this one is on the main menu and that's what matters. Also, yes, this game takes place in Fantasy America. Clearly you weren't paying attention when you played it.
Easy,
Normal, and
Hard should be self-explanatory. Expert mode removes "helper features" and Trial of Iron deletes your save when you die. I think it safe to say that neither of those things appeal to me, so we won't be playing with them on. These aren't the only difficulty settings, just the only ones the game forces you to select; the rest are in the options menu.
I bothered to record and upload the intro and character creation and you can watch it
here.
If you can't do that for whatever reason, the summary is as follows: we're coming to Fantasy America on a caravan, we got sick, the caravan stopped because we're sick, and we're playing a dwarven merchant Barbarian.
"The caravan master finishes addressing the group, his bushy red mustache and sagging jowls quivering as if for emphasis." Lay off the Super-Turbo, old man.
"Everybody stays close to the wagons, got it? (No, FREEDOM only understands FREEDOM.) Stay outta the
pantry woods, and Beasts take you if you were planning a stroll through those ruins up there." He nods toward a looming black mass on the hillside."
"Whole area's crawling with hut-dwelling types who'd be happy to stick an axe in you for trespassing. So mind that you don't track mud on their sacred blazing rocks." Where's Andrew Jackson when you need him?
"Tonight everybody stays put and in the morning we'll get the path cleared. Gilded Vale's less than a day out. Understood?"
"At last, the caravan master turns to you, frowning as he looks you over."
"Touch of the Rumbling Rot, could be. There's a stinging beetle 'round here, carries it. You'll be fine once it passes your innards. 'Less you don't drink water, course, which case you'll be dead in a day."
And if you drink the water, well..."There's a berry grows in these parts, small and pink. Called a springberry. (Sounds creatively bankrupt enough to be an Aedyran name.) 'Bout the size of a fingernail. Give you cramps if you eat it, but the frontiersmen make a tea from it, calms the insides. Should get you through the night. You might check around, see if you can find some. Meanwhile I'll see if we can scare you up some water." Using fear tactics to obtain resources is unethical and unpatriotic, you dirty fascist.
"Odema looks over his shoulder at his assistant, a lanky, intense man named Sparfel, who carries an old sun-bleached bow." No good guy is named "Sparfel."
"I know you wanna hunt before it gets much darker, but see about refilling our water first. Got a sick one here." He nods in your direction."
"Sparfel nods and slides the warn bow over his shoulder."
We can ask a lot of questions here, but only two really matter.
"What are those ruins?"
"Nothing you won't see on half the hills of Eir Glanfath. (Elven plastic knick-knacks.) Money to be made selling their knickknacks in
Waterdeep Defiance Bay, if you don't mind getting stuck with Glanfathan arrows now and again. They didn't build 'em but I'll be the Effigy if they don't watch 'em like a mother bear."
"Course all the ones 'round here been ransacked ten times over, got nothing left worth half a pand."
"He adds, with a wink, "So I hear." I cannot imagine how resting near a sacred ruin will cause problems, nope, sounds fine.
"Who DID build the ruins?" Might as well ask this since it is sorta important.
"Odema shrugs. "Got different names for 'em. Settlers call 'em Engwithans."
"Nobody that liked them enough to stop them becoming ruins, tell you that much." What did Engwith ever do for us anyway?
"What are these huge rocks coming up out of the ground?" These huge pillars are so... eternal.
"Odema frowns. "They don't got adra where you come from?"
"Well, it just grows up outta the ground like this. Goes deep, like tree roots. Some of it all the way to the heart of the world, you believe the stories." That's how it's written by the way. Maybe he has a really inefficient version of short-hand or something.
"It's more like a shell than a proper rock. Easier to work, if you're a mason."
"Got all kinds of strange properties. Seems to have some kind of life of its own. Dies if it gets dug up. Loses its luster. Folks think it probably grew at one point or another, but not these days."
"The soul butchers in Defiance Bay use it for different things. I've heard tell it can hold a man's soul, but I don't care to see it. Got enough to worry about without seeing something like that." This is the only time adra is explained in the game from what I've played so far, bit strange since it is everywhere, but at least it isn't repetitive.
That's it for questions, off we go. Unless...
"Hold on. Take someone with you. I know you're not some helpless tenderfoot - not like most of this lot. (I can see the protagonist gleam in your eyes.) But you drop dead I don't wanna be looking for the body. Got a schedule to keep."
"He scans over the travelers, resting his eyes at length on a sturdy, armor-clad woman who has spent the journey's nights sleeping on uneven ground without blanket or pillow." Apparently that is an important observation? I suppose that's real hardcore or something.
"Calisca. Calisca!"
"The woman looks up on her own time." That is, our time. We are the hero of this world after all.
"He needs to find some springberries. Watch that he doesn't drop dead."
"No promises." You know she's a serious adventurer because of her constant forlorn expression.
"What kind of guide says something like that?" The kind that doesn't live past the prologue.
"Kind you can afford." The kind Obsidian can afford to kill off. Spumblers for the prologue. I know, how scandalous.
"Odema chuckles and shakes his head. He looks at you. "Don't listen to her. You're in good hands." I might be sick, but I'm not THAT type of sick.
"He casts a sidelong glance at her. "And I pay too well if anything." Too much information, dude.
"Odema's small grin recedes beneath his mustache, and his stern once more."
"Off with you. Heodan should have supplies. See that you're equipped before you head out. We're in harsh country."
"Get your berries and hurry back. And if you get so much as a tickle of wind, you drop everything an you run. Something in the air tonight. If it's a
biawac, we'll shelter in the ruins, hut-dwellers be damned." A veritable ejaculation of foreshadowing, what fun.
And so the game starts. If you ever played an Infinity Engine RPG or Arcanum, you should be able to understand what's going on here. If not, go play them you uncultured mongrel. IE I would explain what's going on, but this isn't a real LP.
I would talk to Heodan anyway, but this starting equipment makes talking to him required. Who the hell thought duel-wielding with a spear was a good idea?
"Anyone need supplies? I've got sundries for sale."
"You see a man wearing simple but mostly neat clothes. (I fail to see why simple=unclean.) He's transfixed, however, by a ragged tear in the seam of his tunic."
"He shakes his head and laughs when he notices you. "Brought a whole wagon full of goods to sell but not enough shirts for the road." Don't worry, the wet t-shirt contest drained the supplies of even the most prepared.
"He scratches one cheek with his knuckles. It's covered with uneven stubble, as if he hasn't quite used to shaving on the road." Or maybe he's just using a duel-wielded spear to shave.
"Say, is there anything you need? I've got some basic traveling supplies for sale if you'd like to take a look."
I wish I didn't have to ask this, but it has some basic setting information if I remember correctly. "Who are you?"
"I'm a trader. Originally from the Aedyr (British) Empire, but I've been trying to establish new business out here."
"He looks at his wagon and grins ruefully. "Life on the road has brought some unexpected challenges, to be sure. And I'm sure you've noticed how prickly the locals can be. (Only if your royalist scum.) But we're here to make the most of things, right?"
We get four options here, each of which raises our personality bits. From my experience only Benevolent\Cruel and maybe honest matter. The rest might as well not exist.
"How incredibly naive. I'm surprised you've lasted this long."
"He folds his arms and surveys the wagon. "Then I suppose I should be counting my blessings."
"Something else you need? Looks like we're settled for the night."
"Tell me about the Aedyr Empire." Long ago in a place called Aedyr, these things happened...
"It's not as big as it used to be, but it's still big. The mainland is a continent northwest of here, but the colonies used to include Readceras and the Dyrwood." IE Fantasy Canada and Fantasy America. There was even a war between the two and Dyrwood got fucked!
"About one hundred fifty years ago, Dyrwood won its independence from the empire, a fact our companions are quick to remind me of." He gives you a lopsided grin and nodes at the other scattered caravanners." You might want me to talk to you further, however I think we can do better things with our time, like participating in the all-American sport of shopping.
Off we go, to adventure!
"I'll have your water soon enough. Stream's not going anywhere." Sparfel the Swift, Sparfel the Diligent.
"Travelers, maybe. Or looters. Or bandits. Bad sign any way you figure it."
"The corpse is cold to the touch ([Insert necrophilia joke here]) and a ripe smell wafts from it in putrid waves. A dark, crusted bloodstain besmirches its simple linen clothing."
Spooky, but not spooky enough to stop me from looting their corpses of all valuables.
"Let's check by those outcroppings."
An outcropping that just so happens to be inhabited by a Young Wolf. Farewell Fenris. Combat in this game is pretty basic from a melee standpoint, just click and kill. There are some abilities and such, but as I said before, this ain't no real LP and I'm not detailing all of this junk.
Regardless, the wolf is dead and we now have access to the holy springberries.
[Merchant] "Odema said something about you being in business for yourself." Create thine backstory, player.
"I piloted cargo ships." Most of America's economy depends on the sea trade after all.
"Yeah? How is it you happened to come here?"
Vague response so as to make every answer adequate."Had a big fight with my superiors about the way the ship was being run. They got rid of me." Woo, rebellion!
"That's a damnable run of luck. (I'm so unlucky that I willfully ruined my career.) Maybe the new setting will turn things around for you."
"Calisca breathes in her surroundings. "Been a long time since I've been this way. But I always did like it."
"Lord Raedric's offer... makes a girl think, I'll give him that. You here to settle, like the rest of the lot."
"It's a hard offer to pass up." A bit of dysentery is nothing compared to some
free land.
"You won't find many offers like it in these parts, believe me. Got some big plan in store?"
"Getting filthy rich." The Dyrwoodan dream, baby!
"Ah, a man after my own heart. May your luck be better than mine."
"Anyway, I'm wasting time here. Odema'll give me an earful. Let's be on our way."
"What can you tell me about Dyrwood?"
"I'm not much for history, but from what I know, it used to be part of the Aedyr Empire. Broke off after a war some years back. The locals here are feisty and that's how they like it."
"I've been out of touch, but I've been hearing weird kinds of things about it lately. People having trouble giving birth, I guess. A lot of them. Been going on for years, now. But somehow it's getting worse." A whole country having trouble giving birth sounds a bit concerning. A bit.
"With an uneasy tremor in her voice, she adds, "I'll have to ask my sister more about it." You might be baiting me into asking you about your sister but I'm not going to do it!
"All right, let's get back to camp."
"You know, I wouldn't hold my breath that Sparfel's getting your water any time soon. He does what he feels like, when he feels like it. We should check up on him first. Slap him around a little." Woah now, I didn't sign up for that type of work.
"Stream's just down that way. Come on. Let's get you your water." Sparfel the Loyal, Sparfel the Dutiful! Also, it is hour 26 right now. That's a thing. I don't think it is ever mentioned in-game but it sure is funky.
"What a surprise, Sparfel went hunting. Least he left the waterskins. C'mon."
"You crouch at the riverbank, and dip your waterskin into cool water while Calisca waits nearby, keeping watch. (So bashful.) As you rise, you notice her look up sharply towards the treeline."
Oh, I bet it's just that cooky Sparfel up to his old tricks.
"Out of the trees emerges Sparfel, (Sparfel the Sneaky, Sparfel the Scout!) one of the guides, barely discernible in the dim moonlight. He no longer carries his bow, and there is a strangeness to his gait, his stride wobbly as he moves toward you with labored breath." Aww, Sparfel has a crush.
"Calisca frowns. "Sparfel? Are you all right?"
He just wants your attent- Oh, oh, welp.
"Sparfel's toe catches on a rock, and he collapses forward in a heap, the feathered shaft of an arrow planted between his shoulders like an enemy flag." Sparfel the Corpse, Sparfel the Dishonored!
"Ambush!"
So, uhh, yeah... about those Glanfathans...
...they're all dead now.
"Come on! We have to get back to camp!"
"All around you lie the massacred remains of the other travelers, peppered with arrows and knife hilts, splayed and bug-eyed and filthy." Splayed and bug-eyed and filthy and stupid!
"Calisca puts the back of her left hand to her mouth as if to ward away some poisonous vapor." Isn't that the hand she holds her torch in? Sounds like a bad idea.
"A handful of dark figures stands (sic) above the fallen, treading on limbs and backs and heads, jerking their axes from bodies as if from half-split logs."
"One of them, towering and severe (and handsome?) with a thick beard tasseled with knots, holds a wet blade at the neck of the man you recognize as Heodan, the last of your caravan left standing."
"Lay down your arms, trespasser. Do not forfeit this man's life for a fight you will lose."
[Lore 1] "The ruin has not been sullied by our hands, men of Eir Glanfath." Fucking Men of Westernesse always screwing around.
"Your words carry no weight when I have seen the truth with my own eyes. Blood must be paid for this intrusion." That's anecdotal evidence! It doesn't count!
"So I say again. Lay down your arms."
"Don't trust them, they mean to kill us all!" Maybe they just don't like your inbred features, Heodan. It's a real possibility you know.
[Might 14] "Only a fool attacks a weak enemy while a stronger one yet lives."
"The man considers this, looking you up and down. "Hmmph. Yet."
"He shoves Heodan toward you. As he does so, the man rakes his blade against Heodan's torso. Heodan screams and stumbles forward, a wide gash in his clothing beginning to bloom crimson."
"The man sets his feet to engage you, his axe raised high."
Battle is done, battle is won.
"Your enemy lies supine on the ground, unable to rise, his companions now silent among the other dead. His breath comes in wheezing, fitful gasps. He looks not at you, but at the sky above you."
"Forgive us."
"Barely audible beneath his choked sighs, a whisper of wind stirs the air."
"At this, the man's eyes roll back as he closes them. "Good. Good. The gods are just."
"A queer smile crosses his face. "I am ready." I wonder if this is a biawac... nah, that would be too convenient.
"The wind begins to swell, whipping around the camp, electric and volatile, upending pots and rattling tents like an angry spirit."
"You can feel it begin to seep beneath your skin, and where it pierces you it feels as though it is rending you apart from within."
"Seated against a wagon wheel amidst the howling maelstrom, slashed across chest and bowel, Odema's body stirs, and with great effort he raises his sagging head, his eyes barely open. He looks directly at you."
"Get inside. RUN!"
I think I can understand his problem with biawacs now.
"Straining against a gale that threatens to pull you off your feet with every step, you set your hands in the worn folds of weathered rock and set about pulling yourself up the precipice."
"With a last burst of energy before your arms give out, you swing yourself up onto the ledge."
"Heodan trails behind, slowed by injury and delayed by early hesitation."
"As he nears the face of the rocks, one of the fallen attackers, who had been feigning death, lunges for Heodan and topples him onto the rocky ground." It's almost as if the gods want him to die or something.
"Restrained, Heodan lashes out against his fatigued assailant, but struggles to break his hold."
"They are close to you. Despite the wind, from your position, if your were to throw your weapon at the attacker, you would have a good chance of hitting your mark." Hmm, i guess 20 Might allows us to throw great swords proficiently. If we didn't have over 15 dexterity, of course.
[Dexterity 15] "Grab a rock and hurl it at the attacker."
"Your aim is true, and the hit jars Heodan loose." (Also you made a rock into a javelin, that's neat I guess.)
"Lurching to his feet, Heodan clambers up the base of the rocks. As he nears the top, however, the wind flares, pulling him sideways and tearing one of his hands free." Heodan is close to becoming worse than Sparfel.
"But diving out onto the hard rock, you manage to catch hold of it. Securing his other hand, you pull with waning strength, and it feels as though your arms will be jerked from their sockets. They hold just long enough for Heodan to set his feet and join you on the trembling ledge."
"There is a deep resonance to the swelling wind now. You feel it in the rocks beneath your feet and inside the cavity of your own chest, as though it would shake the marrow from your bones." Who forgot to feed the biawac?
"Each new gust menaces the old stones before you, loosening connections, unsettling balances. As you dart beneath the old archway, the entire portal begins to fall beneath its own weight." Looks like the Glanfathans were load-bearing.
"Was that- ?"
"Heodan's words come between wheezing gasps. "A biawac. Had to be."
"Then we're lucky to be alive." Alive...
for now!
"And we're the only ones."
"We can't stay here. There could be another collapse. We're not getting out that way, anyway. Let's get further inside."
"She eyes the ragged slash across Heodan's belly. "Can you walk?"
"Heodan's jaw tightens. He nods."
Alright, there is a bunch of stuff to see here, but I gotta finish this before it turns over to July 5th. Prepare for Pillars of Perpetuity: Fast Mode.
"Heodan's chest rises and falls visibly with each breath. "That should be far enough. But what now?" Heodan, did you not hear what I just said?
"We look for another way out. Storm has to die sometime." We could ask all sorts of things, but like I said: fast mode.
"Let's get going."
"Heodan takes a step forward and his knee buckles, and before anyone can catch him he stumbles to the ground, his cheek striking the timeworn cobbles."
"On unsteady legs, he claws his way up the wall and back to his feet, but his stance is shaky, like a sailor walking on land after a time at sea."
"Could- Could we maybe stay here and rest a few hours?" He nods at the gash across the midsection. "I've... lost some blood." He looks around. "Seems quiet off to the left. Might be a place to rest there." Despite the implications of his dialogue it doesn't matter where you rest. There are no random encounters in this game from what I've seen.
"I hate to say this, but we can't afford to stay put. (At least she gets it.) Those Glanfathans were riled about something. Could be we got company in here. Looters will be armed and ready to kill, and there's probably a lot of them. We can't be caught sleeping in their beds."
"Please
sir, it's only a pound!. I just need to lie down for a while. Then we can move as fast as you want." Funnily enough, I can easily get through this dungeon without fighting anything more dangerous than a giant spider so his concerns are kinda nullified.
"Maybe you didn't HEAR ME. (CAPITAL LETTERS SIGNIFY IMPORTANCE!!!) We are going to DIE in here (Dishonor is death, true facts.) if we don't get moving and get this place figured out before the looters come back. We've either gotta find the exit, or a damn good place to hide."
"Calisca's right. We have to press on. We don't know what we're up against."
Well, most of us don't. "Heodan looks like he's been struck. "I... I'll do my best."
Now, go, go, go!
Puzzles! I don't have time for puzzles!
"That roundish symbol - I'm pretty sure I saw it on one of the tiles back there." HINT HINT
"A swirling symbol is inscribed on this pillar. An unlit brazier sits at its base. It could be lit, if you had the means." Fun fact, if you're a Fire Godlike you can use your hair to light this. Anyway, back to rushing through this extremely long RPG.
"Flames kindle swiftly in the brazier, winding their way upwards."
The solution is to light all of the brazier things. Not even in a specific order, just light all of them.
"Feels like there's a draft coming through that wall. I don't hear any sigh of that storm, either."
Oh no, a spider. What will we ever do?
The dungeon has been successfully averted, back to exposition time.
"Four figures stand before an otherworldly apparatus, an ancient structure of chiseled adra and metallic veins, ominous and looming like a silent observer."
"Standing motionless in their midst is what appears to be a human body, colorless as stone - or ash. The other figures gaze upon it in what might be contemplation. From your vantage point you are well obscured from their view." Ehh, it'll be fine. They'll use a stone to flesh scroll on him any moment now.
"The figure closest to the machine stands out among them. A thick gray beard frames a face otherwise hidden beneath a metallic mask."
"His faded robes are embroidered with a runic language unlike anything you have ever seen, and he wears a strange black headdress with two protrusions that jut out like the wings of some malevolent creature." Look, he might seem like a evil cultist when he's at work but I'm sure he's a really nice guy outside of his workplace.
"He addresses the petrified body. "...Oathbinder bear witness and see this man has kept his word, true to his last breath, full to his blood's last drop. Guide his soul, Queen That Was, and regard it among your Favored. Let his life by the Key be his confession. Let his death by the Key be his absolution. Mayhe walk the world ever free of the crushing weight of the Book." Lord of the Flies is a pretty depressing book but I wouldn't describe it as "crushing".
"The man passes his gaze over the others standing around him. "Your brother has done his part, and you have seen the power of his contribution. I will accept no further hesitation from the rest of you." He looks each in the eye in turn."
"In the sight of the Queen That Was,
do you take this man of ash as your lawful wedded husband? will you fulfill the oath? Will you take your place besides your brother in the endless esteem of Her memory that is without flaw? Step forth and be assured of the great worth of your life's course."
Looks suspiciously like a biawac this ritual does. I smell conspiracy!
"For an instant, the apparatus goes quiet and the air is still. Then, all at once, it erupts with a concussive surge. Light floods your vision, and you are knocked to the ground. Your head snaps back as you land, and pain wells into the back of your skull, washing your last thoughts away into the black unconscious void."
"You open your eyes to a different place, another time. You stand in a circular room, grand and domed, its walls lined with adra and trimmed with copper. The style is ancient, but the chamber is unweathered." *cough*Past life*cough* What? I said nothing. You're hearing things.
"At the far end a great pillar of adra pierces the floor from below, its shimmering textures giving the illusion of boundless depth." One might even say... eternal depth.
"Encircling the pillar is an apparatus much like the one you have just seen, but immense and multifaceted and intertwined."
"Your thoughts are yours and not yours, and they seem to exist before you think them and they are all questions. Pressing questions, troubling questions. Questions that must be answered or... or..."
"At the base of the pillar now, you see a man with a thick gray beard in cermonial robe, crowned with a strange ornamental headdress."
"You know this man. You are walking towards him now at a pace that is hurried while trying not to appear so."
"You have something you want to ask him, one question above all, and the question spins madly in your mind." Something something where do babies come from?
"You awaken to find your malaise has broken, only to be replaced with something far more concerning. Faint whispers are audible at the edge of your hearing, like a ringing in your ears that does not subside."
"Movement flits through your periphery, but when you turn to look, you see no sign of whatever it was. You find your gaze regularly darting this way and that, an involuntary paranoid tic. If this is a sickness, it may be dangerous to go without treatment for long."
"The figures at the machine stand frozen in place, flesh and blood replaced by cinders and ash. The man who led them is nowhere to be seen."
"Heodan and Calisca lie bloody on uneven cobbles, their bodies twisted unnaturally in death." Poor prologue companions, they can never get a break it seems.
"You are alone and far from help. Gilded Vale may be your best hope of receiving treatment before things get worse."
It's 11:55, gotta go faster! There's a forest area, but fuck it, let's get to Gilded Vale before it's too late!
This place looks ominous, no wonder the lord is giving out free land! It was all a trap, much like this Independence Day special!
Welp, I think that's a good place to end this on, don't you? I don't have the time regardless, farewell!
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Topic: Let's Play Wasteland & Wasteland 2 Part 17: Aced? Aced. (Read 23948 times)