Adventure Gamers - Forums

Sefir - 27 November 2014 02:20 AM

P.S: I have to ask. Which one of you found out who the brotherhood members were from the meeting alone? (before searching for the gold items).

Well based on what they said…Oooooh Chucky Chucky Chucky! ...it really wasn’t hard to deduce who they were or what profession they had, but I didn’t really pay much attention or wrote down who they were, instead I kind of figured that they wouldn’t be hard to find afterwards. In fact I half expected there would some kind of in-game list, similar to the one with the items for the dragon detector, with a silhouette of the members or a brief summery of what they had said. I guess that just shows how spoiled we are by modern games

TimovieMan - 27 November 2014 06:33 AM

I didn’t find out about the dunnyman, the chimney sweeper and the mason, but the latter two only popped up for the first time AFTER the meeting, no?

You could talk to both the dunnyman and the chimney sweeper before the meeting, so it was only the mason that were a new character.

Sefir - 28 November 2014 02:01 AM

Dag - 27 November 2014 08:52 PM

The street urchin won’t teach me the secret handshake unless I prove I’m a man.

In the past, words of wisdom were used to be written in *ahem* specific places. Nowadays with cellphones, etc all these traditions are lost…

I even posted a screenshot of one of those words of wisdom in a previous post, not the actual words you are looking for, but…

YES! Finally got to act 3! Now I need a break I’ve been playing obsessively for the past two days. I was stuck for a long time because of that toilet grafitti that I missed, I wouldn’t have made it if not for some of the tips in this thread.

Duck of Doom - 29 November 2014 04:07 PM

I´m stuck on getting the truth potion from Nanny! Why can´t I just give her that kiss?! Damn squeamish Rincewind...
Subtle hint anyone?

A little custard might help.

I have now also finished this part.

It actually didn’t gave me as much trouble as I had feared or as some of the previous parts of the game had, partly because I could actually remember the whole Nanny Ogg and the braggart part and the troubles it originally gave me, and partly because I read Sefir’s excellent tips

Oddly enough I had completely forgotten about the whole Temple of Offler, and because of that it was also this that gave me the biggest problem, not getting past all the traps, that I quickly deduced from the tips, but [spoiler]when getting past the monk I had to resort to trial and error, and simply tried every single item in my inventory luggage until something worked, and when getting the sand I first tried every container in my luggage and failed, before I realised I also had a pouch in Rincewind’s inventory[/spoiler]

Another thing I had also completely forgot about, and which made me LOL was:

This game simply never stops being funny.

^That part was very funny and totally unexpected to me.  I do remember a similar conversation among the gods in at least one of the books and am glad it’s included here.

I haven’t finished this part yet but hope to by the deadline.

Oh dear God, how many steps does obtaining this talisman entail?
I’ve just spent hours going around doing all kinds of crazy stuff, and I still don’t even have the location of the Temple of Offler...

This game is way harder than I remember. Good thing it’s so funny…

Sefir - 02 December 2014 01:44 AM

3 Steps
Step 1: Aquire the truth potion by Nanny Ogg
Step 2: Aquire the picture of a prized animal (main targets: Search for animal to shoot, iconograph, imp)  That’s also the hardest step.
Step 3: Steal the medalion

Well, your Step 1 is a 12-step step in my book. And your step 2 is about a 40-step step with me.
I’m practically at your Step 3 now…

Let’s hope the other hero items are easier to find…

The “That doesn’t work” and “Nope. I can’t shift it.” remarks are wearing thin…

Lady Kestrel - 01 December 2014 01:38 PM

I do remember a similar conversation among the gods in at least one of the books and am glad it’s included here.

About three miles away a failed wizard was hanging by his hands from a high branch in a beech tree.
  This was the end result of five minutes of crowded activity. First, an enraged she-bear had barged through the undergrowth and taken the throat out of his horse with one swipe of her paw. Then, as Rincewind had fled the carnage, he had run into a glade in which a number of irate wolves were milling about. His instructors at Unseen University, who had despaired of Rincewind’s inability to master levitation, would have then been amazed at the speed with which he reached and climbed the nearest tree, without apparently touching it.
  Now there was just the matter of the snake.
  It was large and green, and wound itself along the branch with reptilian patience. Rincewind wondered if it was poisonous, then chided himself for asking such a silly question. Of course it would be poisonous.
  ‘What are you grinning for?’ he asked the figure on the next branch.
  I CAN’T HELP IT, said Death. NOW WOULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO LET GO? I CAN’T HANG AROUND ALL DAY.
  ‘I can, said Rincewind defiantly.
  The wolves clustered around the base of the tree looked up with interest at their next meal talking to himself.
  IT WON’T HURT, said Death. If words had weight, a single sentence from Death would have anchored a ship.
  Rincewind’s arms screamed their agony at him. He scowled at the vulture-like, slightly transparent figure. ‘Won’t hurt?’ he said. ‘Being torn apart by wolves won’t hurt?’
  He noticed another branch crossing his dangerously narrowing one a few feet away. If he could just reach it…
  He swung himself forward, one hand outstretched.
  The branch, already bending, did not break. It simply made a wet little sound and twisted.
  Rincewind found that he was now hanging on to the end of a tongue of bark and fibre, lengthening as it peeled away from the tree. He looked down, and with a sort of fatal satisfaction realized that he would land right on the biggest wolf.
  Now he was moving slowly as the bark peeled back in a longer and longer strip. The snake watched him thoughtfully.
  But the growing length of bark held. Rincewind began to congratulate himself until, looking up, he saw what he had hitherto not noticed. There was the largest hornets’ nest he had ever seen, hanging right in his path.
  He shut his eyes tightly.
  Why the troll? he asked himself. Everything else is just my usual luck, but why the troll? What the hell is going on?
  Click. It might have been a twig snapping, except that the sound appeared to be inside Rincewind’s head. Click, click. And a breeze that failed to set a single leaf atremble.
  The hornets’ nest was ripped from the branch as the strip passed by. It shot past the wizard’s head and he watched it grow smaller as it plummeted towards the circle of upturned muzzles.
  The circle suddenly closed.
  The circle suddenly expanded.
  The concerted yelp of pain as the pack fought to escape the furious cloud echoed among the trees.
  Rincewind grinned inanely.
  Rincewind’s elbow nudged something. It was the tree trunk. The strip had carried him right to the end of the branch. But there were no other branches. The smooth bark beside him offered no handholds.
  It offered hands, though. Two were even now thrusting through the mossy bark beside him; slim hands, green as young leaves. Then a shapely arm followed, and then the hamadryad leaned right out and grasped the astonished wizard firmly and, with that vegetable strength that can send roots questing into rock, drew him into the tree. The solid bark parted like a mist, closed like a clam.
  Death watched impassively.
  He glanced at the cloud of mayflies that were dancing their joyful zigzags near His skull. He snapped His fingers. The insects fell out of the air. But, somehow, it wasn’t quite the same.

(continued)

Blind Io pushed his stack of chips across the table, glowered through such of his eyes as were currently in the room, and strode out. A few demigods tittered. At least Offler had taken the loss of a perfectly good troll with precise, if somewhat reptilian, grace.

  The Lady’s last opponent shifted his seat until he faced her across the board.
  ‘Lord, she said, politely.
  ‘Lady; he acknowledged. Their eyes met.
  He was a taciturn god. It was said that he had arrived in the discworld after some terrible and mysterious incident in another Eventuality. It is of course the privilege of gods to control their apparent outward form, even to other gods; the Fate of the discworld was currently a kindly man in late middle age, greying hair brushed neatly around features that a maiden would confidently proffer a glass of small beer to, should they appear at her back door. It was a face a kindly youth would gladly help over a stile. Except for his eyes, of course.
  No deity can disguise the manner and nature of his eyes. The nature of the two eyes of the Fate of the discworld was this: that while at a mere glance they were simply dark, a closer look would reveal — too late! — that they were but holes opening on to a blackness so remote, so deep that the watcher would feel himself inexorably drawn into the twin pools of infinite night and their terrible, wheeling stars…
  The Lady coughed politely, and laid twenty-one white chips on the table. Then from her robe she took another chip, silvery and translucent and twice the size of the others. The soul of a true Hero always finds a better rate of exchange, and is valued highly by the gods.
  Fate raised an eyebrow.
  ‘And no cheating, Lady,’ he said.
  ‘But who could cheat Fate?’ she asked. He shrugged.
  ‘No-one. Yet everyone tries.’
  ‘And yet, again, I believe I felt you giving me a little assistance against the others?’
  ‘But of course. So that the endgame could be the sweeter, Lady. And now…’
  He reached into his gaming box and brought forth a piece, setting it down on the board with a satisfied air. The watching deities gave a collective sigh. Even the Lady was momentarily taken aback.
  It was certainly ugly. The carving was uncertain, as if the craftsman’s hands were shaking in horror of the thing taking shape under his reluctant fingers. it seemed to be all suckers and tentacles. And mandibles, the Lady observed. And one great eye.
  ‘I thought such as He died out at the beginnings of Time,’ she said.
  ‘Mayhap our necrotic friend was loathe even to go near this one,’ laughed Fate. He was enjoying himself.
  ‘It should never have been spawned.’
  ‘Nevertheless,’ said Fate gnomically. He scooped the dice into their unusual box, and then glanced up at her.
  ‘Unless,’ he added, ‘you wish to resign…?’
  She shook her head.
  ‘Play,’ she said.
  ‘You can match my stake?’
  ‘Play.’


The Colour of Magic - Terry Pratchett