Cthulhu Dreams posted:

Why did we even set out over the desert? What the hell?

Apocron posted:

This is a weird book. I guess they set up the main antagonist and then you're supposed to go and sidequest to "level up" before coming back to kick his rear end?

Page 473 posted:

A nomadic tribe have made their camp here. The tents nestle like white doves in the cool shade under the trees. The tribesmen watch as you quench your thirst at the oasis, then several of them come forward and invite you to look over some goods they have for sale.

‘Here is an antidote against all poisons,’ says one, holding up a small glass vial. ‘Here a water bottle that is never empty. And here, a magic rope from India.’

You smile, not sure if he means it as a joke. To openly suggest that he is lying would provoke a fight. ‘Great marvels indeed. I doubt if I could afford these treasures.’

‘We have other things to show you,’ he replies, unruffled. ‘Not all are so expensive.’

You look over their wares and find the following:

Antidote 90 dinars
Ever-full bottle 100 dinars
Indian rope 300 dinars
Ring 80 dinars
Bow 50 dinars
Mirror 40 dinars
Sword 20 dinars
Black jewel 90 dinars

Buy what you wish. If you have an ordinary water bottle, you have the chance to refill it at the oasis, so note that it is now full. The ever-full bottle is exactly as he claimed, and will always contain water when you need it.

Bidding the nomads farewell, you continue south on foot across the desert.

Turn to 15.

Page 15 posted:

Another few days brings you to Zeila, a medium-sized port on the west coast of the Gulf of Adan. The journey has been arduous, and it has been a long time since you had a drink of water. Lose 1 Life Point unless you have either WILDERNESS LORE or a full water bottle.

Refreshing yourself at a fountain by the city gates, where you can refill any bottles you are carrying, you hear a sublimely beautiful song wafting through the dusk. It is the call to prayer from the high minaret you can see above the rooftops. Kneeling where you are, you give thanks to heaven for seeing you safely through the desert.

Turn to 149.

Page 149 posted:

The streets of the city are tiered thoroughfares that snake up between the clustered houses to the palace at the top of the hill. As you ascend the steps of one such street, you are shouldered aside by a patrol of stern-faced soldiers. Affronted at their rudeness, you give them a glowering look as they descend towards the docks.

A passing barber notices the incident and says to you: ‘The palace guards are looking for a thief who stole a ruby from the treasury. The Sultan is furious, and he has decreed that if the thief is not caught by the time the moon rises tonight, the captain of the palace guard will be crucified.’

Your pride is still ruffled. ‘I can understand their urgency, then. All the same, there is no excuse for manhandling an honest traveler in that way.’

He peers at you in the dusk. ‘Ah, you are a stranger to the city?’

‘Yes,’ you say, nodding. ‘What of it?’

He suddenly leaps back and cries: ‘Here is the thief! Here!’

Before you can react, the soldiers turn and race back up the street. As you start to raise your hands, the barber leaps on your back, bearing you to the ground.

The soldiers grab you. ‘Well done, friend,’ their officer says to the barber. ‘You’ll be rewarded for this.’

‘My reward awaits me in heaven,’ he says.

‘I’ll give it to you myself,’ you growl at him, ‘once I’ve explained there’s been a mistake.’

Turn to 250.

Page 250 posted:

Despite your protests, you are dragged in front of the palace gates. The Sultan’s executioner was already preparing to execute the captain of the guard, who is relieved to see his men arriving in the nick of time.

The Sultan looks down from his palanquin. ‘Is this the thief?’

The captain barely glances at you. ‘Yes, O master of justice,’ he says.

The Sultan orders you to be thrown into prison while he decides your eventual punishment. You are too stunned by the sudden wretched twist of fate to react. Hauled away by guards, you are stripped of your bow if you have one. They also take any money you are carrying, although they leave your other belongings.

They lower you into an oubliette. The grating drops into place with a harsh clang. You listen in shock as the heavy iron padlock is sealed. You can hear rats rustling through the dank straw carpeting the cell.

‘So you’re the jewel thief, then,’ says a voice in the gloom. ‘Doesn’t look like much to us, eh, Shahrazad?’

As your eyes adjust, you make out a figure crouching beside you. He is an old man with limbs as thin and gnarled as twigs. On his lap he has a mangy cat which he is cosseting as though it were a princess.

If you want to talk to him, turn to 38.
If you ignore him and sit in silence, turn to 61.

Character Sheet posted:

Jay Sherifman the Nomad

Skills: AGILITY, FOLKLORE, MAGIC, WILDERNESS LORE

Life Points: 4

Dinars: 0

Possessions: Ring, cloak, mirror, water bottle (full)

Codewords: Hajji, Kismet

Kills: Embracer, a guard, an Infernal Machine and the tiny man inside it, a pointy-toothed native, Ejada, the Moon Dog, Skarvench, our credibility as a tactician, any chance of furthering whatever the gently caress kind of relationship we had with Lucie, some unlucky guard, an enormous ceiling spider, a particularly punitive yet otherwise non-descript Judain, the physical manifestation of Hate, a nightcrawler, a particularly bulbous cactus, Necklace of Skulls, a necklace of skulls, some jerk vines, a troupe of post-apocalyptic hell-puppets, a weird future ghost thing, embroyonic cyber-spider mech, pretty much every conceivable thing (x2), the post-apocalyptic speed limit, a second weird future ghost thing (albeit vicariously), the bestest robofriendship we're likely to come across this side of godhood, two traitorous Bocheii, whatever remained of the concept of privacy, Vajra Singh, our last (probably) shot at godhood, the ghoul bros, mamaghoul

Failures: Root'd to death, despair!'d, swallowed and digested by a Colossus beetle, ate a pig and failed to avert an ecological cataclysm, slave'd and toil'd to death, pulmonary arrownation, stabbed in the eyes and left to "live" off the land, lightly dragon'd, tree'd from a great height x2, Countless Swords of the Westermen'd, gale'd, yardam'd, rack'd, pulp'd, flatten'd, eat'd (nobley), rubble'd, cul-de-sac'd, what-once-used-to-be-the-harbor'd, three magical bodyguards'd, orgy'd, bitter life-sucking cold'd, cascade of rubble'd, cold'd, celestial darkness'd, mutant plant'd, second shot'd, hypnotic trance'd, reality ripped right out from under us'd, Volent'd

Cathode Raymond posted:

This sultan is a real piece of poo poo. I say we bought a sword at the oasis since it's cheap and they confiscate bows but not sword at this ramshackle prison apparently.

And of course Talk to your fellow prisoners, both man and cat.

Ratatozsk posted:

Snorb posted:

Having a sword will be better than nothing, but I doubt that'll help us here.

Also, yes, let's have a nice chat with the old man.

hackbunny posted:

I still don't see why or how we took a detour to Mecca on the way from Baghdad to Cairo, it's nowhere near the route

Page 38 posted:

You explain to the old man that there has been a mistake. You are not the one who stole the Sultan’s ruby.

Surprisingly, his answer to this is a thin wheeze of laughter. ‘Not the Shadow, eh? I thought not. I doubt they’ll ever catch that one.’

‘Who is the Shadow?’

‘The most daring of knaves. The rogue who purloined the jinn ring of Ala al-Din and the flying rug once owned by the Emir of Cordoba, as well as the crown of the infidel ruler Shah al Ma’in. He – or she, for the Shadow is a figure veiled in mystery – has vowed next to steal the diamond egg of the rokh.’

If you have the codeword Kismet, turn to 64.
If not, turn to 470.

Page 64 posted:

‘The egg of the rokh!’ you say with a far-away look in your eye. ‘I’ve heard its nest lies just below the clouds, atop a pinnacle overlooking the headwaters of the Nile.’

‘No doubt it is high above the ground,’ retorts the old man, ‘but as for being at the head of the Nile – nonsense! I myself was born in a village at the head of the Nile. If there had been any high peak nearby on which the rokh nested, I would surely know about it. The truth is that the rokh is to be found on the Isle of Palms, far to the east.’

Lose the codeword Kismet and record the codeword Fabric instead.

Then turn to 470.

Page 470 posted:

You cannot help grinning at the old man. ‘Well, you certainly seem to have a fund of strange stories.’

‘You doubt them?’ he leaps to his scrawny feet, eyes flashing. ‘Watch, as I prove the truth of all I’ve said. You see my cat, Shahrazad? She has heard my words, yet you’ll note her tail is not an inch longer than before.’

You bite your lip and take half a step backwards. The old man is undeniably mad. ‘Incontrovertible proof,’ you say to humor him. ‘I no longer doubt you at all.’

‘Don’t talk to me like I’m daft, you young sprat. Now watch the cat’s tail while I tell her a few lies. Shahrazad, it’s my birthday today and I’m just ten years old. This morning the gaoler gave me a fine confection of dates, saffron rice, spiced mutton and buttermilk for breakfast. I ate so much my belly ached! The Caliph is my second cousin and I myself heard the Prophet’s last sermon, peace be upon him.’

You blink and rub your eyes, but there can be no doubt. With each lie, the cat’s tail grows a couple of inches, then after a few seconds it returns to its normal length.

‘What a miraculous animal,’ is all you can say.

‘She’s a sure indicator of when people are telling the truth,’ agrees the old man.

If you possess a coil of Indian rope, turn to 41.
If not but you possess a pair of magic slippers, turn to 18.
If you have neither, turn to 61.

Page 61 posted:

The oubliette is a bell-shaped chamber lined with muck and straw. There are several other prisoners here. Seeing you pacing around, one of them sighs and points to the grille in the middle of the ceiling. ‘Some of us have been here for years,’ he says. ‘Food is thrown down every day or so, if we’re lucky. Other than that we’re forgotten here. There’s no escape.’

‘What about water?’ ‘You must lick what you can off the walls.’ He shows you his tongue – black and covered with sores.

You position yourself directly below the grille and stare up. A distance of almost twenty feet. The walls funnel in towards it, so there is no chance of climbing up.

If you possess either magic slippers or Indian rope and wish to use them now, turn to 133.
If not, turn to 155.

Page 155 posted:

A week later, the grille is hauled up and another prisoner is lowered into the oubliette. ‘Here is the real Shadow!’ calls down a guard. ‘Now you worthless wretches have got some distinguished company for a change.’

The grille drops back into place with a clang. ‘What about me?’ you shout up. ‘If you’ve got the real Shadow, you must know I’m innocent!’

The guard’s face reappears at the top. He has a broad smirk as he says, ‘Innocent? You can’t be innocent if you’re in gaol, can you? So maybe you didn’t steal the Sultan’s ruby – who cares? No doubt there’s some other crime we can mark down to you.’

‘This is rank injustice!’ you call back, but he has gone.

The newcomer places a hand on your shoulder. ‘I too am the victim of injustice, my friend, for I am not the Shadow. I thought you were. In fact, I got myself caught in order to meet you. My name is Azenomei.’

You turn and look at him: a handsome beardless young man with sparkling gaze. He has a small scar across the bridge of his nose.

‘In that case, you’re in for a big disappointment. And why are you smiling? Don’t you know we’ll probably stay here till we die?’

His grin grows all the wider as he brings out a huge bunch of keys. ‘Here I have the answer to nine hundred and ninety-nine locks. All we need is a way to reach the grille.’

If you use a pair of magic slippers, turn to 336.
If you try a coil of Indian rope, turn to 292.
If you have a long tailed cat, turn to 314.

Lacking any of those, you have no way of reaching the grille and you really will end your days in this miserable pit.

Character Sheet posted:

Jay Sherifman the Nomad

Skills: AGILITY, FOLKLORE, MAGIC, WILDERNESS LORE

Life Points: 4

Dinars: 0

Possessions: Ring, cloak, mirror, water bottle (full)

Codewords: Hajji, Kismet, Fabric

Kills: Embracer, a guard, an Infernal Machine and the tiny man inside it, a pointy-toothed native, Ejada, the Moon Dog, Skarvench, our credibility as a tactician, any chance of furthering whatever the gently caress kind of relationship we had with Lucie, some unlucky guard, an enormous ceiling spider, a particularly punitive yet otherwise non-descript Judain, the physical manifestation of Hate, a nightcrawler, a particularly bulbous cactus, Necklace of Skulls, a necklace of skulls, some jerk vines, a troupe of post-apocalyptic hell-puppets, a weird future ghost thing, embroyonic cyber-spider mech, pretty much every conceivable thing (x2), the post-apocalyptic speed limit, a second weird future ghost thing (albeit vicariously), the bestest robofriendship we're likely to come across this side of godhood, two traitorous Bocheii, whatever remained of the concept of privacy, Vajra Singh, our last (probably) shot at godhood, the ghoul bros, mamaghoul

Failures: Root'd to death, despair!'d, swallowed and digested by a Colossus beetle, ate a pig and failed to avert an ecological cataclysm, slave'd and toil'd to death, pulmonary arrownation, stabbed in the eyes and left to "live" off the land, lightly dragon'd, tree'd from a great height x2, Countless Swords of the Westermen'd, gale'd, yardam'd, rack'd, pulp'd, flatten'd, eat'd (nobley), rubble'd, cul-de-sac'd, what-once-used-to-be-the-harbor'd, three magical bodyguards'd, orgy'd, bitter life-sucking cold'd, cascade of rubble'd, cold'd, celestial darkness'd, mutant plant'd, second shot'd, hypnotic trance'd, reality ripped right out from under us'd, Volent'd, pit'd but not grille'd

Ratatozsk posted:

So...there's a bit of an error that has brought us to a dead end here. If you can catch it, we can keep going.

Cathode Raymond posted:

Have we gotten a single goddam magic check yet?

Thuryl posted:

Well, we have a friend with a short-tailed cat and we know how to turn it into a long-tailed cat, if that counts...

Thuryl posted:

We could have, and in hindsight probably should have, used magic against the ghouls.

Page 314 posted:

You remember the cat’s weird knack of adding inches to its tail each time it hears a lie. ‘Then that’s how we’ll escape,’ says Azenomei brightly when you tell him.

You shake your head. ‘The tail soon shrinks again, and the grille’s at least twenty feet up.’

His eyes show a sly glint. ‘I know a thousand lies, each more scandalous than the last. We’ll wait till it’s dark.’

At midnight he wakes you and then, bending close to the cat’s ear, he starts to whisper to it. Instantly the tail shoots up, growing longer and longer, until it reaches to the grille. ‘Climb quick,’ says Azenomei, tossing you the keys.

The two of you ascend and unlock the grille. After more than a week in the noxious air of the cell, the night breeze tastes as sweet as oasis water. Azenomei takes back his bunch of keys. You notice the cat’s tail is shrinking again, so you grab it and haul the animal up after you. Who knows, it might come in useful again.

Turn to 358.

Page 358 posted:

The two of you manage to slip out of the city the next morning on the back of an ox-cart. The owner is startled when the sacks of grain on the back of his cart are suddenly thrown aside to reveal two scruffy young vagabonds.

Azenomei gazes back at the city and gives a hearty laugh. ‘A pox on that place. I’ll never go there again, I can tell you.’ He turns to you. ‘And where are you bound now, my friend?’

‘I left Baghdad in search of fame and fortune. But I was accused of being an infamous thief, and now I have no money.’

‘You could do worse than throw in your lot with me,’ declares Azenomei. ‘I’m heading across the desert to rescue my sister. She was spirited away by a jinni who imprisoned her in a bronze citadel. I can promise you as much adventure as you can take.’

If someone had said that to you just a few months ago, you would have assumed they were mad. Now you have seen many marvels with your own eyes. But you have not learned to be careless of risk.

‘A jinni’s citadel, you say? That may be a little more adventure than I can take.’

Azenomei waits for your decision.

If you go with him across the desert, turn to 270.
If you go your own way, get the codeword Noose and turn to 223.

Character Sheet posted:

Jay Sherifman the Nomad

Skills: AGILITY, FOLKLORE, MAGIC, WILDERNESS LORE

Life Points: 4

Dinars: 0

Possessions: Ring, cloak, mirror, water bottle (full), sword, cat

Codewords: Hajji, Kismet, Fabric

Kills: Embracer, a guard, an Infernal Machine and the tiny man inside it, a pointy-toothed native, Ejada, the Moon Dog, Skarvench, our credibility as a tactician, any chance of furthering whatever the gently caress kind of relationship we had with Lucie, some unlucky guard, an enormous ceiling spider, a particularly punitive yet otherwise non-descript Judain, the physical manifestation of Hate, a nightcrawler, a particularly bulbous cactus, Necklace of Skulls, a necklace of skulls, some jerk vines, a troupe of post-apocalyptic hell-puppets, a weird future ghost thing, embroyonic cyber-spider mech, pretty much every conceivable thing (x2), the post-apocalyptic speed limit, a second weird future ghost thing (albeit vicariously), the bestest robofriendship we're likely to come across this side of godhood, two traitorous Bocheii, whatever remained of the concept of privacy, Vajra Singh, our last (probably) shot at godhood, the ghoul bros, mamaghoul

Failures: Root'd to death, despair!'d, swallowed and digested by a Colossus beetle, ate a pig and failed to avert an ecological cataclysm, slave'd and toil'd to death, pulmonary arrownation, stabbed in the eyes and left to "live" off the land, lightly dragon'd, tree'd from a great height x2, Countless Swords of the Westermen'd, gale'd, yardam'd, rack'd, pulp'd, flatten'd, eat'd (nobley), rubble'd, cul-de-sac'd, what-once-used-to-be-the-harbor'd, three magical bodyguards'd, orgy'd, bitter life-sucking cold'd, cascade of rubble'd, cold'd, celestial darkness'd, mutant plant'd, second shot'd, hypnotic trance'd, reality ripped right out from under us'd, Volent'd, pit'd but not grille'd

Page 270 posted:

Azenomei leads you into the wasteland, where the hot air rasps your throat and each footstep raises a cloud of acrid dust. For days you travel without seeing any sign of life. From dawn to dusk you feel as though your flesh is being dried on your bones. Night makes the rocks colder than ice.

Lose 2 Life Points unless you have WILDERNESS LORE or a water bottle. If you use a bottle, note that it is now empty.

If you are still able to go on, you see a gleam of burnished metal in the thickening dusk. ‘It is the jinni’s citadel,’ breathes Azenomei. Taking your arm, he hurries on until you stand below the walls. The battlements and turrets are all of polished bronze, flickering like fire in the red sunset.

You find the doors – a huge double portal of ebony studded with iron. Putting your shoulders against the doors, you slowly push them open. Beyond lies a great hall with many passages leading off it.

‘Let’s split up and look for my sister,’ says Azenomei. ‘We’ll have to hurry, because the jinni might return at any moment.’

You gaze along the hall. ‘But there may be hundreds of rooms in the citadel. How will we find her?’

‘There are a thousand doors,’ says Azenomei, starting off down one of the passages. ‘Just be sure not to try and open any that are locked.’

Choosing a passage at random, you start to explore. Doorway after doorway leads to empty rooms. At last you find a door that will not open. You thought there was a muffled shout from the other side, but when you press your ear to the door you can hear nothing.

If you break the door down, turn to 300.
If you go looking for Azenomei, turn to 224.

Character Sheet posted:

Jay Sherifman the Nomad

Skills: AGILITY, FOLKLORE, MAGIC, WILDERNESS LORE

Life Points: 4

Dinars: 0

Possessions: Ring, cloak, mirror, water bottle (full), sword, cat

Codewords: Hajji, Kismet, Fabric

Kills: Embracer, a guard, an Infernal Machine and the tiny man inside it, a pointy-toothed native, Ejada, the Moon Dog, Skarvench, our credibility as a tactician, any chance of furthering whatever the gently caress kind of relationship we had with Lucie, some unlucky guard, an enormous ceiling spider, a particularly punitive yet otherwise non-descript Judain, the physical manifestation of Hate, a nightcrawler, a particularly bulbous cactus, Necklace of Skulls, a necklace of skulls, some jerk vines, a troupe of post-apocalyptic hell-puppets, a weird future ghost thing, embroyonic cyber-spider mech, pretty much every conceivable thing (x2), the post-apocalyptic speed limit, a second weird future ghost thing (albeit vicariously), the bestest robofriendship we're likely to come across this side of godhood, two traitorous Bocheii, whatever remained of the concept of privacy, Vajra Singh, our last (probably) shot at godhood, the ghoul bros, mamaghoul

Failures: Root'd to death, despair!'d, swallowed and digested by a Colossus beetle, ate a pig and failed to avert an ecological cataclysm, slave'd and toil'd to death, pulmonary arrownation, stabbed in the eyes and left to "live" off the land, lightly dragon'd, tree'd from a great height x2, Countless Swords of the Westermen'd, gale'd, yardam'd, rack'd, pulp'd, flatten'd, eat'd (nobley), rubble'd, cul-de-sac'd, what-once-used-to-be-the-harbor'd, three magical bodyguards'd, orgy'd, bitter life-sucking cold'd, cascade of rubble'd, cold'd, celestial darkness'd, mutant plant'd, second shot'd, hypnotic trance'd, reality ripped right out from under us'd, Volent'd, pit'd but not grille'd

Darkest Auer posted:

No, seriously, what choice lead to acquiring the cat??