Chapter 3 - Morphose
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It didn't look like I was going to be seeing my brother again after all. At least not in this world. Nor the human.
The human's elven woman hadn't made it across to Cron with them. If she had fallen in the same direction as I did through the sea of stars, there was still a chance she might be here. Though -- there had been nobody even fitting her description that I'd noticed.
I noticed a slight crease in the seemingly endless amounts of pages that followed. Turning to it without a second thought, I found that the page I'd opened was about this city itself -- Fountain Head -- and began to read it as I absentmindedly walked toward the back end of the city where Kranion's office had been.
My book of magic maps still functioned, too. That was a relief.
Automapping is back and the maps are slightly more colorful but not terribly informative. They are still invaluable of course for preventing excessive loss and backtracking when exploring new areas. Only one party member needs the 'Cartography' skill to begin making maps. With the 'direction sense' skill, you can see which way you're pointed on the map by the arrow. Without said skill, your location just shows up as a red X.
Long ago, Fountain Head had been a wealthy city--situated at the foot of these woods where the Zingaro traders would come to peddle their wares gathered all over Terra. But then--due to a long string of conflicts, the regular trade routes were cut off. The armies of King Righteous had been dwindled down and pulled back into his castle after excessive skirmishes with the evil King Malicious. The neutral lord, King Chaotic, similarly aided and backstabbed the two kings to escalate their conflict and keep one from winning over the other -- so as to enrich his own power. At least until the aforementioned two turned their weakened armies on him and drew the whole mess into an uneasy stalemate.
There was something vaguely barbaric about it. All humanoids of course typically identified with a preferred outlook on life. So-called Evil, Neutral, or Good depending on one's priorities. And such devotions were fluid, too. A person's outlook changed as their circumstances in life changed. It was every bit as natural as the ebb and tide of the seas.
Sure, on Varn people would disagree or keep preferred company. But there was no sectarian violence. To see it exist here, as long and as historied as Terra was--made me feel that something was fundamentally wrong. If we detested each other so easily for something as banal as our alignment, people like Volkmeir and myself never would have gone journeying with Sam and the others.
Regardless--the situation had apparently been bad for Fountain Head. With no army to patrol the woods, the Zingaro stopped trading. With no revenue stream, things fell into disrepair. Morphose--the summoned protector, had at least kept the city safe until he was captured by someone called the "rat overlord". And then the sludge curse on the fountains. And the goblins encamped outside. What a mess. Was it like this everywhere across Terra?
Moose rats? I hadn't seen any of those...
I had let my guard down while I was reading and hadn't noticed these two beasts until the Bubble Man sent a stream of vitriolic foam at me -- ugh! And beside it was the single biggest rat I had ever seen.
On Varn we have battle rats. Semi-sentient things that wear scavenged armor and weapons. I had thought that those were the single most disgusting rodents I'd ever laid eyes on until I caught sight of the Moose Rat. I didn't know rats could drool, but this one slavered openly as it lumbered in toward me, uttering a heavy, piercing chirp that sounded like it could have knocked a small bird out of a tree.
I must admit, I reacted at the expense of some reason. I did not have many magic gems on my person and I may have used them rather wastefully here. But it was the first prayer that came to mind and my conjured shower of sparks was enough to melt the bubble man into goo. The moose rat itself took three more humble appeals and drained my reserve of spell power. By then, it had been weakened enough that I was able to bludgeon the foul thing until it lay still. But not before it gave me a few bites with it's powerful incisors that pierced right through my scale armor and drew a fair bit of blood.
Let me tell you -- Moose rat bites can be pretty nasty.
Spell costs are handily shown right in your 'spell' window before you confirm it. 4/1 in this case means it costs 4 SP and 1 Gem. Many spells--as in the first two games, get more powerful and cost more SP with each level. But the gem cost usually remains static.
In the corner of the storeroom I found a hole in the tile floor that looked like it can been gnawed clean through. I wasn't sure if this was the entrance that the people of Fountain Head used to access their underground tunnels, but it was the only one I ever found. It was a little too far to jump -- I had to use a set of rope and hooks from the outfitter.
I was set upon almost immediately by the fluttering of leathery wings as soon as I brightened my surroundings with a Light spell. Vampire bats are a pest common it seemed, to this world and my own native Varn. The ones here were a little bigger though and I could feel the sting of poison in their bite. This was more of a nuisance than a threat.
I had among my prayer book a sacrament to Suppress Poison -- however, this could only minimize it's severity. I would have to make a trip to the temple to have it cured--but that would mean needing to buy another set of rope and hooks to return. I resolved to press forward and use my flying fist spell to knock other bats out of the air before they could get close.
You can totally see Faulkner making his 'I'm poisoned' face here. |
The wealthy founders and citizens of the city had dug these caves below the foundation as a vault to keep their valuables. That would explained the sealed barrels I could make out in the recesses around me.
It seemed as though the curse of the ooze was not limited solely to the fountains. A gurgling, corrosive solution was gurgling from the seams in the barrel. It was likely to burn a fair bit if I opened it--but the promise of any precious metals inside that had survived their acid prison was too tempting to ignore!
You do take some acid damage for searching the barrels, in fact. There are many such containers that contain danger as well as treasure.
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Ah-ha! A gleaming silver skull--just large enough to fit in my hand and ornately detailed. It was a beautiful artifact--but had no use to me other than the price it would fetch. And Kranion was offering a fair price.
Sometimes other barrels had no tangible rewards in them--but some strange force that lied within would be released and strengthen me in various ways. By the time I'd finished opening them all--I had become stronger, faster, and smarter than before.
It is easier to raise stats in MM3 compared to 1 and 2, because there are many treasures like these ones that will give you a couple points here and there permanently. However--the trick is deciding which character to give them to. Giving a knight points in personality isn't going to accomplish much. Piling all the rewards onto one character similarly will leave that character a little overpowered and other ones less so.
These swinging pendulums were installed as traps to deter thieves from raiding these tunnels. They were too fast for me to avoid -- perhaps with a sorceror's Jump spell we could bypass them.
But I just forced my way through. I've got pretty tough skin and the blades on these were so old and cracked they barely scratched.
Strange spirits inhabited some altars down here. Servants of the local Almighties that favoured adventurers and taught useful skills--though not without a generous donation of gold. I visited every shrine I could find in these caves and became quite astute in direction sensing, danger sensing, and recognizing walls with hidden passages on the other side. Lastly--one of the altars taught me to swim.
I hated swimming. When it came to moving over the water, I vastly preferred a good Walk on Water spell. However, the local Raven's guild didn't have one for me. At least this way, I would be able to cross short rivers.
There is no limit to the amount of 'secondary skills' you can learn in MM3. And in fact, as you continue playing and get options to learn more of them--your different characters skill sheets will start to look like laundry lists.
The gargoyles around the first-person view window aren't there just for decoration! The lizard at the right will wave its arm if you sense a hidden door at the wall you're examining. The demon on the left flaps it's wing if you have a 'levitate' spell active. The bat at the top moves its mouth if there are enemies within a few spaces of you. The four gems similarly represent Fire, Cold, Electricity, and Acid -- and will turn green if you have a 'protection' spell active for any of them.
ARGH! After crossing a long hallway of those annoying pendulums, the shrine in the back of this hall refused to let me go any further without giving it a pass phrase, just teleporting me back to the entrance when I did not provide it.
Kranion, however--knew the password. When I delivered five of his much-sought after silver skulls to him, he informed me that the password RATS would be useful. Upset that he did not provide this information sooner before suggesting I go exploring down there--my anger was mollified by a generous payday. 1000 in gold and experience for each skull, along with a promise to continue purchasing them from me wherever I found them!
Plunging deeper past the guardian altar, I found a message etched into the wall in a shaking hand.
"The Rat Overlord is Near".
Well, good. That -was- after all who I was after. I couldn't very well make myself comfortable in this filthy hovel if I had to worry about more moose rats gnawing my legs off in my sleep.
I smirked softly at the next warning. Whoever was leaving these messages had a flair for the dramatic.
Around a few more darkened corners--I suddenly heard a flutter of movement behind me and dismissed it as another passing bat.
That is--until, I felt a lithe arm suddenly come slung around my shoulders--a pale blue arm came out of a dark mantle and made its way right below my jaw, where--holding still and straining my eyes, I could see it was holding a crude, poorly made dagger in slender fingers--pointed at my throat.
"Don't move. Give me all your food. And your money." came an elven woman's cruel voice.
I wasn't impressed. The voice sounded weary. I could see her hand shaking. I waited there in silence for a moment, gauging her reaction to my noncompliance. When she failed to react in any way, I responded.
"You ever cut a half-orc's throat before, girl? You're liable to break that shoddy thing trying to get it to pierce my skin. It wouldn't cut butter."
She jerked the blade a little in her hands, sliding her body up closer to mind and pushing the tip of the damaged blade against my tough, semi-scaled skin. It -was- a little sharper than it looked. But if I showed weakness now it would dispel the illusion.
"You wanna see me try?" she asked--threatening again.
"You had to get by a lot of pendulums to get here. What's wrong, girl? Found yourself unable to get back?"
"Sh...shut up!"
I could feel her swaying a little behind me. Her hand began to shake again.
"You haven't eaten in a few days, have you girl? You asked for my food first before anything else. I know what hunger's like. The long stretches where you lose track of time and feel completely numb. Followed by the bouts of gnawing pain so fierce you wonder if you'll survive the night..."
I felt her leaning against me. She had so little strength that she was using me to help her stand up. I couldn't let up now though--a hungry person could still do dangerous things.
"And then finally--the bouts of dizziness. As all the strength starts to leave you and the whole world begins to turn upside down..."
That did it. She dropped the crude knife where it landed at my feet with a clatter. With another shaking lean against me, the elven woman fell past me and fainted dead away on the stone floor.
Some time later, I was sharing a pouch of foul orc gruel with her, leaning there against the stone walls of the cave.
"What's your name, girl?"
"...Lydia."
"Well, 'Lydia'....you're lucky to have found me, you know that?"
"Shut up."
Taking absolutely no discouragement from her attitude, I simply continued on. I had a way with words. It was an important part of being a cleric you see. I was a fairly good judge of people. And I could see that the girl had some potential. It wasn't too bright of her of course, to wind up in the predicament I'd found her in--but she'd handled that knife like a promising future professional even despite several days of hunger.
"I'm a stranger to this sorry place and intend on doing a little travelling. Seeing the sights. Crossing the world -- so to speak. Only there's a fair bit of danger involved and I need a few extra hands. It looks like you just done got yourself conscripted into my goon squad.
"You're nuts. There's an army of goblins and orcs out there. And ogres further south. And mad dwarves..."
"See? You know exactly what to look out for. That's why I need you to come with me."
"Screw you. You'll get me killed."
Tapping back into the days of Varn when I practised being evil more regularly, I kneeled in close to her and grimaced half-orc fangs at her menacingly.
"Say 'no' and I leave you here to starve all over again."
"I'll find a way out eventually."
"Not if I break your legs first."
She paused mid-mouthful of her orc gruel and looked at me quizzically.
"You wouldn't dare."
She had a tough personality, I had to admit. And yet, that made her that much more alluring.
"Aye. Maybe not." I admitted, letting my ego deflate a little. And then--thinking again back to Varn, I took a page from Samuel's book.
"An equal share in all treasure. And more. I'm on a quest, you see. When it's finished--you can have my piece too."
She suddenly brightened at this newsworthy piece of information.
"And you seriously want to travel...the -world-? All of Terra?"
"'least til I find the guy I'm looking for. Ever heard of Corak? 'The Mysterious'?"
"Nope."
"Then we might be travelling a long time."
"You're kind of crazy. I like that." Lydia smiled.
"First--there's an unusually large rodent I'd like to take care of."
After I helped her recover some strength with my first aid spells--we found a passage leading back up the city proper--to a forgotten, walled off corner where the Rat Overlord made his home.
Indeed--it was a ferocious battle and before long I had to send Lydia to stay back where she wouldn't get mauled by the beast. She was still somewhat weakened and poorly equipped. I, on the other hand--was feeling more spirited than ever. The Rat Overlord was much like his Moose Rat underlings. He wasn't particularly larger or stronger--but he was considerably older and his tough furry hide was so gnarled and scarred it was like striking tough leather. The battle raged longer than I intended, but with my ability to heal myself I slowly wore the large rodent down and caved it's head in with a well-placed blow of my cudgel.
"All hail Faulkner! Rat-killer and rodentbane!" I threw my hands up in victory!
Sealed in a locked box--Lydia's skills as a robber came to use right away. I had no idea how I would have freed Morphose otherwise. As the gaseous form of the guardian spirit arose from its prison--the ethereal smoke formed an insubstantial face and it spoke words of thanks to us.
With a great word of power--the corrosive green ooze that had left scum and scales around the city all began to dissolve...the bubblemen included. No mooserats could be found in any corner or cellar of the city any longer---and at last all the fountains that gave the city its name began to flow once more--cascading streams of crystal water and fine mist. The city was saved.
At the fountain of Moonbeam, a prophecy was visible inscribed in the basin that wasn't visible before with all the sludge there.
"Below the canopy of the vaulting sea, Lies the mystery of the Ancient's dream. An UIltimate Adventurer must ye be, to unravel their tangled scheme."
Somewhere out there in the 'inner sanctum' of this world, Corak had gone after Sheltem. Catching up to him was going to be easier said than done.
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