Posts Tagged ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’

This is not my beautiful crystal ball

Sunday, March 17th, 2013

Previous Page (B14748). This is page B147481 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or excellent choices until you win.

What sorcery is this? As your foot comes down, the heel of you shoe clips the rubbery case and the squawking device flips over, the crystal on it’s front cracked and as you bring your foot down again to finish the job you catch the briefest glimpse of a beautiful woman trapped within, her hands and face pressed against the inside of magic box as if attempting to escape, but it is too late. Your foot connects with it a second time, and the pealing sound ceases, there is a brief spark as the magic escapes and then the box is still, quite and dark.

As you look down on the scene below you wonder if the woman inside is trapped forever. Maybe it is worth bringing the pieces with you in case you run into a sorcerer who can be persuaded to free her. The men who late arrived are all dressed in similar dark blue uniforms, or white and orange ones. The latter have rushed over to the corpse of the boss, whilst the ones in blue are speaking with the peasants, several of whom are pointing towards where you entered the forest. The soldiers in blue confer for a moment then rush into the forest, hands clasped in front of them. It might be a good time to move.

CHOICE (B147481)4 Pick up the ruined artifact and head deeper into the forest, away from the soldiers who are tracking me.

CHOICE (B147481)5 Pick up the ruined artifact and head back to the scene down this rocky slope, once the soldiers are all out of sight.

CHOICE (B147481)6 Leave the artifact and head deeper into the forest, away form the soldiers who are tracking me.

CHOICE (B147481)7 Leave the artifact and head back to the scene down this rocky slope, once the soldiers are all out of sight.

 

Press I for Inventory

Friday, March 8th, 2013

Previous Page (B1474). This is page B14748 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or excellent choices until you win.

You slow you pace as check your clothes. Shirt: Torn and useless. You peel it off, wad it up and stuff it in a hollow log where it won’t likely be seen by potential pursuers. Pants, too tight, but you do also have a fancy belt, which when loosened resolves most of the problem. The pockets of the pants take a bit of investigating, there are quite a few, and one of them even has a pocket inside it. Crazy. One pocket has a small double folded bit of leather that has some assorted paper, as well as a multitude of small cards. One of them even has what looks like a picture of yourself on it. There are also a pair of keys on short chains within the wallet. You return it to a back pocket and discover a small device of some interest indeed! It is a red oblong, but with a variety of metal pieces, a bit of prying and you discover it can turn into a knife, or an eye auger. There are a half dozen other possible configurations, but most of them don’t seem useful. Sadly the blade is too small to be useful in combat, but it seems like it could be useful in a bunch of less immediately threatening situations.

You also find on of the shiny black magic boxes you saw the peasants with earlier. On closer examination it is in cased in grayish leather with a weird symbol on one side. The other side is shiny black and a small light blinks blue and purple at you. Shaking it does little and so you return it to your pocket to examine later. You also find a few scraps of paper with writing that looks familiar, possibly being your own hand, yet the meaning of the glyphs eludes you. Though distressing, maybe if you have a chance to examine them under better lighting and without tramping through a forest you will be able to recall their meaning. Finally you find a short black cord, also of the strange leather-like substance that so much else is made of. It is actually Y shaped, one end ending in a banded metal stud, the others in red bulbs that look kind of like mushrooms. The purpose of this seems esoteric, but in a pinch you could probably use it as a garrote.

Finally you arrive at a small rock outcropping that peaks out from the forest, there is a fair amount of brush though, and as you guessed when you spotted it before you fled into the woods, it provides excellent cover from which to spy on whatever beast has lurched in to consume or avenge the corpse of the Boss. The black stone road looks almost like a river from up here, 3 of the metal boxes are speeding down, lights on their tops flashing. Two are small like the ones were the peasants are gathered, except painted black and white. The third is larger, and is white and red. They scream like a dying cat as they come to a stop and then the braying ceases. Moments later several people emerge from the boxes leading you to the conclusion that they are some sort of carriage, though no beast pulls them that you can see.

Suddenly you feel a bug moving vigorously in one of your pockets. You slap your leg, and then reach in to try and get rid of it, but can’t find any evidence of it. No squished gore, but the contents of your pocket lie on the ground and the magic box lights up and shivers as if it were alive.

CHOICE (B14748)1 Whatever magic is in the box is probably no good. Crush it with my boot-heel and continue to watch the scene below.

CHOICE (B14748)2 Magic can be powerful. I’ll investigate it. If I can master it, who knows what wonders may be mine.

CHOICE (B14748)3 This is a foul sign. I’ll leave the evil box on the ground and return to the forest.

 

The Better Part of Valor, and all that.

Friday, March 1st, 2013

Previous Page (B147). This is page B1474 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or excellent choices until you win.

So much almost seems familiar, yet whatever sorcery has brought you to this fell place masks all but the most occasional feelings as to the true nature of your surroundings. Your trophy stashed safely in one of your pockets (you’ve noticed you have two at least, though neither are secret) you lope away into the nearby forest. A low wire fence gives you some difficulty, and you tear your pants further crossing, but once out of sight of the peasants you range north to find a vantage point to watch the proceedings.

This forest is pretty thin, maybe it belongs to a King or Duke, for there is little in the way of underbrush, and movement is easy. You might be able to find a suitable staff or club with a bit of searching. Your own possessions are also a bit of a mystery to you, so it might be worth investigating further. You also hear the sound of running water deeper in the forest to the East.

You have a lot of options this time.

CHOICE (B1474)5c Look for a hefty piece of wood I could use as a club while I move to a new vantage point.

CHOICE (B1474)5s Look for a stout piece of wood I could use as a staff while I move to a new vantage point.

CHOICE (B1474)6c Forget the terrible beast and head towards the water, looking for a hefty piece of wood as I go.

CHOICE (B1474)6s Forget the terrible beast and head towards the water, looking for a stout piece of wood as I go.

CHOICE (B1474)7c Once out of sight, I’ll take stock of what I have and find something hefty to defend myself with.

CHOICE (B1474)7s Once out of sight, I’ll take stock of what I have and find something stout to defend myself with.

CHOICE (B1474) 8 I’ll take stock of what I have while I move to a new vantage point.

CHOICE (B1474)9 I’ll head towards the water while I take stock of what I have.

A minor descent

Friday, February 22nd, 2013

Previous Page (B14). This is page B147 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or excellent choices until you win.

As you prepare to descend, on the floor behind the desk you see a small metal knife. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing, and the cold metal between your teeth is comforting as you begin descending the outside of the building. A quick look reveals the exterior of the building to be smooth, but there is a small vertical abutment to the right. A precarious leap and grab almost ends in tragedy, but you manage to grab both sides of the pillar, and it doesn’t really matter that you aren’t able to maintain a grip, you’re at least able to slow your fall and by the time you do lose your grip you are not far off the ground at all.

Many of the peasants have gathered outside milling around near an orderly grouping of boxes in a variety of colors. Several of them have gathered close to gawk at the corpse, but they flee in terror as you approach, several dropping shiny black magic boxes. Your defeated foe has little in the way of appropriate trophies. No horns or tusks. No bepoisened claws or venomous fangs. You settle for his ponytail which he was inordinately proud of. The knife you found turns out to be less sharp than any self respecting barbarian  would allow, and it takes almost a minute to cut the trophy free. As you stand you see flashes of light in the distance, and can hear the braying of some mournful beast approaching.

CHOICE (B147)1 Finally a worthy foe, I will wait and face it unarmed. Be it sorcerer or demon, I shall slay it.

CHOICE (B147)2 This knife is no weapon. I call up to one of the peasants staring from the bosses lair to throw down my axe.

CHOICE (B147)3 Surely there must be a weapon around here somewhere.

CHOICE (B147)4 Unarmed is no way to meet an unknown foe. I’ll see shelter until I know what new threat approaches.

 

Pathetic

Friday, February 15th, 2013

Previous Page (B1). This is page B14 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or win.

Pathetic! That was not satisfying at all. Your foot went through the door and that was the first problem. On the bright side it did connect solidly with the bosses back. You heard a gratifying crunch, which was probably him colliding with his desk, and then a great crashing sound as if a thousand wine glasses had smashed at once.

Once you’d extracted your foot from the door, wrenched the doorknob off and shouldered your way into the room it was obvious what had happened.  A few shards of glass lie upon the floor but most landed outside, two stories below on, and around the still form of the boss. Halfway across the room the desk has tipped over from where your kick sent the boss tumbling into, and over it, and thence through the window to his demise.

You feel momentarily deflated, your rightful ire gone with the sudden and boring demise of your foe. Now what?

CHOICE (B14)7 Climb down the outside of the building and search the corpse.

CHOICE (B14)8 Return to the cube farm and find someone to question.

CHOICE (B14)9 Find another way down.

You’re not the boss of me!

Friday, February 8th, 2013

This is page B1 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or win.

You are not sure why the sight of Johnson fills you with such rage, but the edge of your vision tints red and your focus narrows to the slightly bedraggled, balding man standing in the door way of his office where as little as possible of the rain pouring down strikes him. Still unused to your new found strength, when you yank the axe out of your computer it ends up flying behind you, causing someone to emit a loud, brief shriek. However you don’t have time to fetch it, and besides Johnson doesn’t even appear to be armed. You leap over the low wall of your cubicle and into Cheryl’s, where-upon you knock over her filing cabinet, and land on her swivel chair. The falling cabinet clips the base of the chair, adding to it’s moment and sending you and your unlikely mount careening up the corridor. Behind you the cabinet crashes to the ground a  swirling explosion of papers provides a proper backdrop for your exit from the cubical farm proper, though it’d probably have been cooler looking if the blasted indoor rain wasn’t still continuing full force.

“Uh… Greg?” The brief look of recognition on the boss’s face flees like a cowardly foe who has been defeated in close combat. As you leap from your erstwhile mount (Cheryl’s chair), panic makes an appearance on the boss’s and he also flees, slamming the door to his office, and leaning heavily against it. A second later the rain shuts off, and the incessant siren finally ceases as well. Most of the Peasants have fled.

CHOICE (B1)3 He’s safe for the moment, I’ll go get my axe!

CHOICE (B1)4 Kick the door down, I shall not be delayed any further.

CHOICE (B1)5 Find something to break the huge plate-glass windows to Johnson’s office.

CHOICE (B1)6 I’ve got a better idea, it’s…

 

You’re not from around here are you?

Friday, February 1st, 2013

Previous page (T11673). This is page T116737 of the Choose Your Own Damn Blog Post Adventure Story Thing, if you’re confused start at the first page of the Troll story.

You could laugh. “Hell no, I’m just … ” you start to say as you open your eyes and turn to look at the other occupant of the room. Your voice catches in your throat, and any trace of levity instantaneously evaporates. Calling the thing sitting in the chair in the corner of the room a person would be charitable at the best of times. It’s shape is vaguely humanoid, and a large blanket conceals most of it’s form. Like some illustrative anatomy tool in a doctor’s office, it’s flesh is semi transparent; bone and far too many teeth glint from within it’s face, tinted blue  by it’s gel like body.

As it stands the throw slides to the floor revealing it’s naked body through which you see more of it’s disturbing internal organs, as well as a second vertically aligned mouth in it’s chest, and six short tentacle like protuberances that end in hooked spikes around the 2 foot tall mouth. It also has large tentacles on which it stands, the bases of which are concealed by the crumpled bit of textile. “Ahh, then you must be dinner.” it says as it moves towards you. You desperately try to turn the door knob, but this door appears to lock from the inside.

You have died!

We have a ton of options:

  • We could go back one page, and choose differently.
  • We could go back to start and start the Barbarian or Wizard story.
  • We could go to any other page and make a different choice.

I’m going to give until Wednesday at 5pm to vote on this one, since there are so many more options. I’ve gone through and given each choice a unique id, so if you want to go back part way you can just pick CHOICE (T11)5 if for example you wanted to do the wall slide thing.

Later today I plan on going through and editing the choices to be more consistent with this numbering scheme, as well as putting “previous” links for easier navigation (done). I am also happy to take any suggestions on how to structure this better.

 

What’s going on in there?

Friday, January 25th, 2013

Previous Page (T1167). This is page T11673 of the Choose Your Own Damn Blog Post Adventure Story Thing, if you’re confused start at the first page of the Troll story.

You dash over to the door and standing on your tip-toes peak through the key-hole. On the bright side you can actually see the inside of the room pretty well. It appears to be a study of some kind. There is a desk and couple of chairs. A single window through which sunlight streams. A large, but mostly empty bookshelf and some interesting but complicated looking furniture. Thankfully the room looks to be deserted.

You turn the knob to no avail. A glance over your shoulder shows that the coast is still clear for the moment, and you give a final desperate turn of the knob and this time there is a click and the door opens. You push it open just enough to slip through, and then with effort turn the knob on the inside until the latch retracts and gently push the door shut behind you.

You lean against the door and your heart finally starts beating again and you close your eyes while you try to quiet your breathing. You nearly pee yourself when a voice to your left says with a dubious tone, “Are you here to save me?”

CHOICE (T11673)5 Crap, the room wasn’t empty after-all, quickly, get back out and look for a better hiding place.

CHOICE (T11673)6 Nod and Shush them. Maybe they’ll buy it long enough for whomever is outside to go away.

CHOICE (T11673)7 Examine them, and the room more carefully now that you are in it. Maybe there’s another exit.

Somewhere to Hide

Friday, January 18th, 2013

Previous Page (T116). This is page T1167 of the Choose Your Own Damn Blog Post Adventure Story Thing, if you’re confused start at the first page of the Troll story.

What’s the expression… Not in Kansas any moar?! … As you take further stock of the situation and look for a good hiding place, several things are apparent. First off this place is big, and it’s not just that the balcony you’re sitting on is long. There is a railing to your left which comes up to almost your shoulders when you’re standing. There are four doors, one just a few yards away, all of which are tall enough that you could probably look through the keyhole without even crouching. The door itself is very fancy, as is the lock panel and door-knob. There are several tapestries that look like they should be in a museum which hang practically all the way to the floor.

Halfway down, between the second and third doors the balcony curves out and there are three huge chairs, an ornate table, and a pair of large fern-like plants. Opposite this sitting area is either an alcove or hallway that leads further back in, but you can’t see into it from where you are at. There is a similar balcony arrangement about 60 feet away, though you do not see an equivalent sitting area on the other side. It looks like both balconies may be serviced by the same Y shaped staircase, on which you are pretty certain you hear steps.

Choice (T1167)1 None of the tapestries lie flat against the wall, and the tassels hit the floor. I dart behind one and then hold still until the coast is clear.

Choice (T1167)2 Those bushes in the sitting area are pretty big, I could hide in there pretty easily, as long as I can get over there before they get upstairs.

Choice (T1167)3 I’ll take a peak through the lock of this door, if it is occupied I can still probably make it to the second room.

 

We all go through the window

Friday, January 11th, 2013

Previous page (T11). This is page T116 of the Choose Your Own Damn Blog Post Adventure Story Thing, if you’re confused start at the first page of the Troll story.

Time still seems to be moving slowly, which means that even though you have only a few steps before you run out of roof, making the decision about what to do almost seems leisurely. There are pipes leading to the roof that you could probably leap up and grab, assuming you didn’t lose your grip. Wall sliding crosses your mind but it only takes a second to realize that this is real life, not a video game, and you’re pretty sure you can’t triangle jump either. This leaves a large window as your best route. As your momentum carries you inexorably closer to the edge you recall the opening scene of The Matrix where Trinity dives through the window. You’re wearing a bulky parka, not shiny skin tight leather, but you do have one advantage, namely the hood of the jacket will likely protect your head from the glass.

As you launch yourself you give yourself a little twist, so that you’ll go through the window backwards and hopefully get cut less by the glass. Time slows even further and as you spin the light of the rising sun takes on an almost magical quality, golden streamers silhouetting the the Eiffel tower to the west. As you pull your arm up to shield your face, you realize you’ve made a mistake: by going through the window this way you’re going to land on your back, crushing your laptop and emergency supplies. You pull your legs up and try to twist faster, but your course was basically committed when your feet left the ledge of the other building.

A second later glass is shattering around you, and have landed heavily on your side. You open your eyes and take a second to catch your breath, congratulating yourself on the final twist; you don’t think much if anything in your backpack actually broke. You sit up gingerly, mindful of the broken glass that isn’t actually there. You are sitting on a fancy carpet, in a style you’re not familiar with, which is bunched up comically behind you where you slid after your fall. The window you came through is closed and undamaged, and you can see a bright afternoon sky, maybe you hit your head and blacked out?

You hear a deep and resonant voice from downstairs, “Dija ‘ear summit?” so you probably didn’t pass out, however if you’re discovered they’ll probably call the police

What do you do?

CHOICE (T116)7 This place looks pretty big, I’ll find somewhere to hide, and then sneak out.

CHOICE (T116)8 I’ve been told I’ve got a silver tongue. I’ll talk my way out and get out of here before the police show up.

CHOICE (T116)9 Why stop running now? Who ever they are they surely won’t expect someone to go dashing by.