The glories of Orb

You may not have noticed, but the Way of the Tiger gamebooks recently got a mini-makeover. All six of the original books are now available in ebook format as well as in paperback, and there's a new series page on Amazon.

What's unique about the Way of the Tiger books is the range of gameplay styles covered. In the early books you're a stealthy assassin. Then you have to conquer a kingdom -- but not just that, in the next book you have govern it. Enemy city-states move against you, making the next book a complete wargame, firstly of strategic choices as you manoeuvre to bring your adversaries to battle, then a contest of nerve and tactics as you try to break them once and for all. The last of the original series circled back to solo adventuring, but this time in the form of classic dungeon delving.

The dungeoneering made sense because the glittering centrepiece of the series is the world of Orb, Mark Smith's setting for the D&D campaign he ran for his friends at school. There were no ninja in Orb in those days, just classic sword-&-sorcery tropes. Many of the NPCs who pop up in the books were player-characters in Mark's campaign, which was still getting talked about (and occasionally run) when I met him at college the following year. I remember holding the Book of the Gods of Orb, a school exercise book in which he'd detailed all the temples and cults of Orb. There were other books too, and more material got added as the campaign progressed over the years. We played long-term in those days, not just a dozen sessions and on to the next thing. Orb was a genuine epic loved by everyone who was privileged enough to play in it.

The good news is that you can get a taste of that brilliance by playing the gamebooks that Jamie Thomson wrote with Mark in the 1980s. And if the downbeat ending of Book 6 bothers you, there's a very good sequel by David Walters (Redeemer) that lets you get Avenger out of that web.

Flags and states in open-world gamebooks

I think it was Mark Smith and Jamie Thomson who first started using keywords in gamebooks. Prior to that, a gamebook might say something like, "If you met the old man in the almshouse and he gave you a piece of stained glass, turn to X." 

You can see the problem. What if I don't remember if I met the old man or not? That's especially likely if I've played through the adventure several times and can't remember whether I met him on this run-through or a previous one.

The other advantage of keywords is that they don't give the game away. The keyword for getting the stained glass fragment wouldn't be GLASS, for example, or even VITREOUS but something unrelated to the story event -- OBLIQUITY, for example. That way, if you come across the keyword without having triggered the event that would give it to you, you have no idea what effect it would have. That's particularly important in open world gamebooks like Vulcanverse and Fabled Lands, though there are cases where it's fine to know why an event is triggered -- getting arrested if you're a wanted fugitive, for example, or being granted an audience with the king because you're the court champion -- and in those cases we typically use a title like Godslayer or Saviour of Iskandria.

Keywords can serve one of two functions. The first is to record if an event has happened. For example, has the player ever met Baroness Ravayne? Once they have, that can't be undone. So in design terms that's a flag. The other use of keywords is to track a state that can change. An example of that would be whether they are an ally or enemy of Baroness Ravayne. Prior to meeting her, neither can apply. But once they are able to enter those states, there could be ways to flip them; you might become the Baroness's enemy, then redeem yourself and become her ally, then do something to make yourself an enemy again.

How many keywords do we need for this kind of set-up? I'll give you an example from The Pillars of the Sky, the fourth book in the Vulcanverse series. We've actually discussed this before. If you want to familiarize yourself with the scenario, here's a short demo version. The gist of it is that the player comes across a valley in perpetual darkness and finds a switch that lets them turn the sun on and off. (Here in London in icy January I could do with something like that.)

I used two keywords. Quell identifies whether the player has found the switch. So that's the first kind of keyword mentioned above, a logic flag. Once you've found the switch, you can't unfind it. The other keyword, Quire, records if the sun is currently on. If you go back to the switch and flip it to the off position, you lose the keyword Quire. Anytime you're in the valley, if you have Quire then the sun is shining, and if you don't it's pitch dark. So Quire records a state.

Typically you want to limit the number of keywords used in a book, as the reader is going to have to check through a list every time a keyword is called. In a multi-book series it helps a bit if the designer uses different letters of the alphabet for each book, as we did in Fabled Lands and Vulcanverse, but it's still preferable not to have too many. Initially I tried to economize in The Pillars of the Sky by only using Quire for the valley with the artificial sun. That meant there was no difference between the sun being off because the player hadn't found the switch and the sun being off because they had found the switch and left it in its original position. Later on I discovered that there were circumstances where it mattered whether the player had found the switch, so I had to bring in Quell too.

A slightly more streamlined (if less aesthetic) solution would have been to have Quire-ON and Quire-OFF as keywords, using ON and OFF to designate substates. Then I wouldn't have needed Quell as I'd be able to infer the state by asking, "Do you have a Quire-* keyword?" -- or maybe, more elegantly, "Do you have any form of Quire keyword?" I wouldn't do that in code as it's cleaner to differentiate the flag (has the switch been found?) from the state (is the switch up or down)? In fact, if the code isn't visible to the player, in an app version for example, I'd have both Quell and Quire-ON/OFF. As you will appreciate, technically I don't need the ON/OFF substates in that case because all conditions can be derived from simple combinations of Quell and Quire:

• Quell && Quire = The player has switched the sun on
• Quell && !Quire = The player has switched the sun off
• !Quell = The player hasn't found the switch

So the only reason for having the Quire substates is the belt-and-braces principle that when debugging it helps to have everything spelled out. Trust me on this -- currently I'm coding all the Vulcanverse books as a web app and O! the bugs!

If you try playing the demo, here's a moment from Workshop of the Gods that gives a hint of how that sunless valley came about:

That's neat

“At the time, ninjas were new and exciting and everyone loved them […] So basically ninjas meets Lord of the Rings was what we came up with and it turned into a hugely successful game book series.”
-- Mark Smith 

A part of our rapid-fire countdown to Christmas, here's a look at Gremlin Graphics' Way of the Tiger computer game from the 1980s.

Having played very briefly in Mark Smith's Orb campaign, I always thought it was a pity it got overshadowed by martial arts mania. There weren't any ninja in the original Orb setting, which was a masterclass in how to use Tolkien-like fantasy elements in a D&D game. Prancing around flinging shuriken and flash powder was far less interesting than all the richly original flourishes Mark had put into his world.

The gamebooks are still available, and there's occasional talk of publishing an Orb RPG. (Basic Roleplaying or Mythras would get my vote.) Fingers crossed -- and I'm not talking about the kuji-no-in.

Alternate versions of Heart of Ice

This post isn't really an April Fool, but it tickled me. Somebody told me they'd asked ChatGPT what The Warlock of Firetop Mountain might have been like if Oliver Johnson and I had written it. I could tell it that for starters the book wouldn't have sold a tenth as many copies, but it concentrated instead on the stylistic aspects:

"If The Warlock of Firetop Mountain had been written by Dave Morris and Oliver Johnson, it would likely have taken on a more complex, story-driven, and atmospheric quality, with a richer interplay between narrative and character choice. The book would be darker, more sophisticated, and immersive, with a layered story and morally complex characters that invite readers to question the nature of heroism, villainy, and fate. It would keep readers enthralled not just with the challenge of surviving the mountain but with the depth of the world and characters they encounter."

First thought: spare my blushes. But maybe ChatGPT always finds the upside in any comparison? I tried asking it what Heart of Ice would have been like if written by the éminences grises of UK gamebooks. Its reply:

If Heart of Ice had been written by Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson, it would likely have had a distinctly different tone, structure, and gameplay focus. Here’s how:

1. Emphasis on Combat and Skill Tests

Livingstone and Jackson’s style, particularly in the Fighting Fantasy series, leans heavily on combat encounters and skill tests. Instead of the intricate social interactions and strategic planning that Heart of Ice focuses on, there would likely be more dice-based combat and stat checks woven throughout. Encounters with mutants or dangerous factions might involve straightforward fights rather than diplomatic or strategic solutions.

2. Simplified Storyline and Character Interactions

Heart of Ice is known for its branching paths, character-driven plot, and complex narrative. If Livingstone and Jackson had written it, the story might be more linear and driven by clear objectives rather than complex interpersonal choices. NPCs would be more likely to serve as allies or adversaries without much emotional depth, focusing on the immediate stakes rather than broader story themes.

3. Collectible Inventory and Traps

Livingstone and Jackson often include item collection as a key part of their gameplay, with a particular focus on specific items needed to progress through the story or defeat major challenges. If they had written Heart of Ice, players would probably need to collect certain artifacts to reach critical locations like the chamber of the Heart, and there might be more hidden traps and hazards along the way, requiring particular items or choices to avoid disaster.

4. Greater Focus on Luck-Based Outcomes

Jackson and Livingstone's works often incorporate luck as a major mechanic, where random rolls can dramatically impact outcomes. Instead of just weighing the risks and rewards in Heart of Ice, players might face outcomes that hinge on a luck stat or a random roll, affecting their survival or success.

5. Increased Use of Instant Failures and Dead-Ends

Heart of Ice has a reputation for being fair in its approach to player agency and choices, allowing for a range of ways to succeed. In contrast, Livingstone and Jackson might introduce sudden death options more often, which could increase the difficulty and frustration. This could potentially make Heart of Ice a more challenging but also more punishing journey.

6. A Clear-Cut "Big Bad"

While Heart of Ice presents a nuanced story where antagonism isn’t always black-and-white, a version by Livingstone and Jackson might feature a single, clearly defined “villain” character. This villain would be more traditional, with the player's final objective involving a climactic showdown or battle, in line with the classic fantasy narratives they’re known for.

So, the gamebook might end up as a harsher, combat-heavy adventure with a strong, linear quest through a dangerous landscape rather than the layered and atmospheric narrative exploration Dave Morris crafted.

I haven't read enough Fighting Fantasy books to know how accurate that is, but it sounds pretty impressive. I couldn't resist asking it about other gamebook authors' possible take on the book:

“A Joe Dever version of Heart of Ice would likely be an immersive, heroic journey with a noble character, structured progression, and clear moral and strategic choices—capturing both the danger and the higher purpose of the quest in a more heroic fantasy style. He’d likely weave in a sense of duty, encouraging players to act for a greater good rather than personal gain.”

“In Jonathan Green’s hands, Heart of Ice would become a grimdark, horror-fantasy adventure, filled with visceral details, deadly encounters, and moral ambiguity. Green favours action-packed scenes and deadly encounters, so his version of Heart of Ice would feature frequent, high-stakes battles and physical challenges. It might involve collecting key items to reach the Heart or unlock special advantages. He’d likely add a layer of treasure-hunting, where players need to acquire specific artifacts or resources scattered throughout the wasteland to succeed. He loves a grand finale, so his version would likely end with an epic, high-stakes confrontation at the Heart.”

“Martin Noutch’s version would be a complex, playful, and layered adventure, balancing whimsy with emotional gravity. It would be a unique experience, inviting readers to engage with the story on multiple levels, both as an adventure and as a philosophical exploration of resilience, identity, and purpose in a world gone cold. He might include interactive features like tracking character traits, shifting perspectives, or even a system for moral ‘weight’ that changes based on choices. Noutch would probably play with the medium, encouraging readers to see the book as more than a story—perhaps introducing puzzles or mechanics that reflect the icy world’s desolation and the player’s perseverance.”

“If Paul Mason & Steve Williams had taken on Heart of Ice, the gamebook would be a surreal, philosophical journey, focused on introspection, symbolic encounters, and moral ambiguity. Rather than a straightforward adventure, it would feel like a dream-like, psychological exploration, where the destination matters far less than the journey itself. Their works often explore identity and transformation, so players might undergo changes based on their choices, affecting their skills, personality, or even memories. The players might evolve, not just in ability but in character, with each decision subtly reshaping the protagonist’s sense of self and purpose. The character’s motivations for seeking the Heart might also shift over time, depending on the journey's transformative impact. Instead of a straightforward victory or defeat, the journey might conclude with an open-ended, introspective finale, leaving players to interpret what they’ve achieved or lost. The Heart could be something far more abstract—maybe a philosophical revelation or an understanding about the nature of humanity and survival. The ending might reflect the choices made throughout, leaving players with questions rather than answers.”

“Jamie Thomson & Mark Smith are known for their sometimes irreverent style. Heart of Ice under their pen would probably include more dark humour and satirical elements, especially in character dialogue and descriptions of the setting. It might lean into the grim aspects of the post-apocalyptic world with a slightly tongue-in-cheek twist, letting players confront both the desolation and absurdity of humanity’s downfall.”

There are many other talented gamebook writers, of course, but let's keep this under two thousand words if we can. Also, many of the above examples make some kind of sense as Jamie, Mark, Oliver and Paul were all players in the Tekumel campaign that inspired Heart of Ice.

Finally, as a tonic against mortal hubris, I asked ChatGPT how it would improve on my original book:

To enhance Heart of Ice by Dave Morris, we could build on its strengths—the compelling world-building, intense survival themes, and open-ended structure—while adding new dimensions to enrich the experience. Here are some ideas:

1. Enhance World Interactivity and Dynamic Environment

Expanding the world’s responsiveness to player choices would amplify the sense of a living, evolving environment. For example, the harsh ice-covered world could react to the player’s presence in ways that change terrain, reveal hidden paths, or shift alliances among factions. This could make survival not only about enduring the environment but also influencing and adapting it.

2. Expand Character Development and Relationships

Adding a system where the protagonist's choices influence traits or relationships could deepen player immersion. Perhaps the player could develop unique bonds with NPCs, leading to varied endings or special advantages based on trust, alliances, or rivalries. This would make each choice carry more emotional weight, emphasizing both the loneliness and connection found in such an isolated world.

3. More Nuanced Morality and Consequences

The original story features morally ambiguous choices, but expanding these even further could add complexity to the player's journey. Introducing choices with delayed consequences that unfold in unexpected ways would heighten the stakes and allow the player to see the broader impact of their actions—either in aiding certain factions, using resources, or making ethical compromises.

4. Introduce Mysteries with Long-Term Payoffs

Building in hidden mysteries that only reveal themselves through multiple playthroughs could enrich the lore and encourage exploration. For example, obscure clues found throughout the icy wasteland might hint at ancient technologies, or the true nature of the Heart of Volent might only become clear through carefully pieced-together discoveries. Each run could reveal new layers of history or insight.

5. Expand Mechanics for Resource Management and Survival

Given the harsh, resource-scarce setting, adding more nuanced survival mechanics could make the journey more immersive. Players might have to carefully ration food, water, and warmth or deal with shifting weather conditions, making travel more strategic and emphasizing the environmental dangers of this world.

6. Player-Driven Goals Beyond the City of Du-En

Expanding the story’s focus beyond reaching the Heart itself would add depth, especially if there are varied side quests or goals tied to the protagonist’s backstory. For instance, players might choose to pursue knowledge about the world’s origins, help rebuild a faction’s community, or take on a personal mission with high stakes. These could offer alternative endings based on different player-defined motivations.

7. Deeper NPC Lore and Factional Storylines

The factions and characters in Heart of Ice are intriguing, but expanding on them could add richness. Each faction could have its own lore, unique goals, and internal conflicts that unfold through interactions. Aligning with different groups might lead to varied story paths, and the protagonist could gain insights into the world’s history, politics, and culture.

8. Philosophical or Reflective Elements Linked to the Protagonist’s Journey

Introducing elements that invite the protagonist to reflect on their motivations could add a layer of introspection. Perhaps they occasionally encounter sites of historical significance that reveal more about the decline of civilization, prompting players to consider their role in this world’s legacy. These scenes could add depth and give a more philosophical tone to the player’s mission.

9. Expanded Narrative Endings with Layered Themes

Adding more varied, layered endings based on how the player has changed or impacted the world would reward exploration and role-playing. Endings could reflect the protagonist’s growth, alliances, and decisions, offering insights into what their journey ultimately means in the grander context of the icy wasteland.

With these improvements, Heart of Ice could evolve into a multi-dimensional experience that emphasizes survival, moral complexity, and a sense of both personal and environmental impact—deepening the world and the player’s journey through it.

Good points, but I'm not sure if I could have packed all that into 454 sections -- or 455 if you're going by the revised Kindle version. Thirty years ago even delivering a gamebook as long as Heart of Ice (which is about 70,000 words) was tricky to sell to a book publisher. If I were doing it today I'd love to go up to 120,000 words (like Can You Brexit?) or even 220,000 words (as in Workshop of the Gods) which would allow me to indulge all the backstories of the other characters and to put more detail into settings which in the 1993 edition I could only describe with broad strokes. With Russ Nicholson I planned a 2000AD-style comic story (called "Don't You Just Hate It When That Happens", if you really want to know) expanding on Chaim Golgoth's history with Harek Asfar, which was touched on in the book in just a few lines:

We'd have liked to do a comic for each of the main characters but abandoned the idea because there was nowhere in the UK to publish them. And maybe it's just as well. Economy in writing can be an asset even when it's forced on you by the publisher. Maybe Heart of Ice if twice as long, or bulked out with standalone comics, would just feel self-indulgent.

I do occasionally get an urge to return to Heart of Ice's roots and write the roleplaying mini-campaign. I'd probably use GURPS 4e for that, which might put a lot of people off but it's really the best fit. I certainly wouldn't make it any less bleak. Modern readers sometimes grumble about that, but imagine Brazil or Excalibur or Sunset Boulevard, say, with a happy ending. Ugh.

What I'd really like, given a ring of three wishes or a lottery win, would be to adapt it into a CRPG or a TV show. And if I ever should get to do that, I'm planning to enlist ChatGPT (or maybe Claude, or Perplexity, or DeepSeek, or all four) as a writing partner.

The pivot of destiny

I came across this 120-player game of D&D on LinkedIn. Unfortunately the post was whisked away from me before I could note the name of the valorous GM, so apologies for not crediting him here. It reminded me of when my friends Nick Henfrey (co-founder of Flat Earths) and Steve Foster (creator of Mortal Combat) and I turned up at our university D&D society just after Freshers' Week. Dozens of new members had signed up, so we found ourselves crammed into a tiny room (five metres square at the most) with a couple of dozen eager first-timers.

"You can't run a game for a party this size," I pointed out to the GM as we all put down figurines in the traditional ten-foot-wide corridor.

"Course we can," he insisted, announcing that the two people at the front could just make out an ochre jelly or whatever it was.

We played on for half an hour, with most people there watching in bafflement as the experienced players leading the party rolled lots and lots of dice. It didn't look like many of these newbies would be coming back next weekend. Nick whispered in my ear. "Let's liven things up."

We were in the middle of the party, so we started blasting spells and swinging swords in both directions, slaughtering folks on both sides until the experienced D&D players waded back and killed us. Outside in the corridor, one of the first-year players whose characters we'd killed asked, "So what are we going to do now?" I didn't know then, but he was Mark Smith.

I opened the next door. It was another meeting room even smaller than the first, maybe four metres square this one, but it was empty. "Have you ever heard of Empire of the Petal Throne?" I said. And that's where we started a game with the core of a group who went on campaigning together for a long time to come -- decades in some cases. There were several who went on to careers far removed from games (and hi there, Les, Sheldon and Pauline, if you happen to see this) but most notable among them was Mike Polling (yes, the author of "The Key of Tirandor") a friend and creative mentor with whom I did much of my early writing. Mike and Mark had been at school with Jamie Thomson. It was through Mike that I was introduced to Oliver Johnson -- they had met at a party the night before our weekly game, and Mike gave Oliver a drunken but apparently brilliant (neither of them can remember it now) account of how roleplaying worked. The next day Oliver showed up to see for himself. And so, directly or otherwise, that Sunday afternoon connected me to most of the RPG writers I'd be working with over the next forty-five years.

Maybe life is full of those "Turn Left" moments. I met my wife because of another, but although that's obviously of paramount importance to me personally there's no gaming dimension so I won't recount the story here. What about you? Are there people or games that have changed your whole life which would have gone entirely unnoticed if you'd made just one different choice?

Online Blood Sword campaign

I was sitting in the Old Tom pub in Oxford with Mark Smith having a pint before we headed off to a game. (It was a bit more spit and sawdust in those days, not like the picture above.) This would have been in early 1979; "Roxanne" was playing on the jukebox, if you want all the details. Mark said to me, "Have you ever thought of setting up a business running roleplaying games?"

"Wouldn't really be on," I reckoned. "It's just a thing you do as a bunch of friends. It's not a career."

Mark shook his head. As usual he was way ahead of me. "In the future, I'm telling you, being a professional GM could be an actual job."

Little did we know that in a few years' time we'd both be making a living from fantasy gaming via our gamebooks and RPGs.

I don't know if there's much of a living to be had from GMing even today, but Mark was right to predict the emergence of professional GMs, and the internet has made it massively easier to find and join the right game for you -- like this Blood Sword D&D campaign. I'm still holding out hope that the English edition of Blood Sword 5e will be published soon, but there's been no news for some time so online games like this may be the nearest we'll get for a while yet. Better make the most of them.

(More about the Blood Sword series here.)

A faerie contest

Talking the other week about Mark Smith's Virtual Reality gamebooks reminded me that I was also called in to do some editorial work on the first one, Green Blood. In the original version, your only chance of dealing with the elves was if you'd picked SWORDPLAY, SPELLS or UNARMED COMBAT at the start of the book. Given that you create a character by picking four out of a list of twelve skills, that means that more than one in four randomly chosen characters wouldn't be able to complete the adventure.

Mark's argument was that a player would be crazy not to start with at least one of those skills, but I was more used to roleplaying games like RuneQuest, and there the whole point is to customize the character by picking skills. It's never a given that you have to be a fighter or a wizard, as in D&D. Even one of the pregen characters in Green Blood (the thief) couldn't have finished the adventure.

It's really no fun to learn halfway through a gamebook that you never had a chance, so the publishers asked me to create some other contests you can use to best the elves using FOLKLORE, CUNNING or ARCHERY. You can play that sequence of the book here -- start at 21, and if you don't use any of the options I added then you'll eventually be sent to 18, which was the entirety of the original contest. 

You can also read the whole book here or try Stuart Lloyd's version Ravages of Hate, which weaves Green Blood into the material of Coils of Hate.

Ravages of Hate

It started with a throwaway remark that both of Mark Smith's Virtual Reality gamebooks are set in the same universe. Stuart Lloyd had got Mark's permission to revise the books and he mentioned that he was taking the opportunity to develop the part of Green Blood that takes place in the city of Godorno: "I'm going to let the character be able to explore Godorno and everywhere on the map before heading to the forest."

To which I replied: "If you’re bulking up the Godorno sections, and Godorno is also the setting for Coils of Hate, maybe there’s the opportunity to combine the two?"

"To make one mega book where the character can both save Godorno from Hate and the forest from the Westermen?" said Stuart. "It isn't beyond the realms of possibility. In Coils of Hate, the character has to flee the city due to the anti-Judain rhetoric. They then wander the surrounding area for a bit then go back. Maybe wandering the surrounding area could turn into a quest to save the forest as well? Then the character comes back? There are similar themes in the sense that human greed and hate are ruining things for everyone."

From that little acorn was to grow the magnificent blockbuster that is Ravages of Hate. You can get the first draft of the book here, and Stuart and Mark plan to run a Kickstarter to fund a print edition with new illustrations -- by real human artists, you'll be glad to hear, not Bing.

There was a third book, which I have mentioned before. I offered to help Mark flowchart that one before he plunged into the writing. I'll admit I had a little bit of an agenda when I made that offer. The publisher had made me fix the flowchart for Coils of Hate, or try to fix it, and I'd had to work on that while a deadline was looming on another book. So I was pretty frazzled after that, and given only two weeks before it went to press I hadn't really been able to make the flowchart work properly anyway. I dreaded having to do the same thing all over again, so thought the best thing would be to help Mark with the flowchart of the next one. At least that way I'd know how the story was meant to fit together, just in case the publisher expected me to clean up that one too.

But Mark couldn't work that way because it didn't fit with his creative process. He always took a novelistic approach to the writing, and having the plot constrained in gameplay terms from the outset would have hampered him too much. I didn't want to spoil that -- I've already said that I think the maturity of Coils of Hate's storyline and the richness of its characters are way ahead of anything I've seen in any other gamebook.

So when the publisher asked me, as I feared they would, to evaluate and edit Mark's third Virtual Reality book (titled The Mask of Death) I had to turn it down. I was still a nervous wreck from trying to knock Coils of Hate into shape. The manuscript went to VR series editor Ian Marsh. Had it come to me I would have kept a copy, being an inveterate hoarder, but sadly neither Ian nor Mark did, and now it's lost forever. (Unless, like one of those missing episodes of Doctor Who, it turns out that the publisher still has it in a desk drawer somewhere.)

It's a shame because Stuart could have included all three books in his magnum opus. Still, he's created a 1330-section gamebook as it is, so he deserves a break. Please let him have any playtesting comments (contact details on his blog) and be sure to back the Kickstarter. Maybe if the funding goes well, reconstructing that third book could be a stretch goal.

Completely unrelated to all the above, but as we're on the subject of old gamebooks, some readers of the blog have been asking about the HeroQuest series. The third of those is quite possibly the book I was meant to be writing when I was suddenly given the task of fixing the Coils of Hate flowchart. You can get them here: The Fellowship of Fear (book 1), The Screaming Spectre (book 2), and The Tyrant's Tomb (book 3).

Caught in the coils

The Coils of Hate was one of the two books that Mark Smith wrote for our Virtual Reality gamebook series. Even thirty years on, my feelings about it are conflicted. By the time Mark handed it in, I’d moved on to another project for another publisher. Then the editor at Mammoth Books, who published VR, called me to say the book needed some work. Actually, a lot of work. Some links were missing. Others were doubled up. Some of it wasn’t typed, just handwritten on bits of paper. You could get a découpé sense of what was meant to be going on by just reading through the manuscript, but you couldn’t actually play it.

I spent the next two weeks trying to reverse engineer the flowchart and fill in the missing sections. I had my other deadline to worry about, so you can bet I was fuming, but it wasn’t all Mark's fault. The flowchart-planning side of gamebooks had never been his forte, and during the writing of this book he had the additional problem of two young kids who had been thought to be merely boisterous but had recently been diagnosed as autistic. Given the pressures, he produced a marvellous piece of writing. The characters came alive with their own hopes, fears and weaknesses. The setting was so vividly evoked you could taste the fog rolling in at night, smell the river-water lapping against lichen-spotted stone bridges, feel the fear lurking down narrow alleyways. And the theme was serious and meaningfully explored. It would have made a superb fantasy novel.

Mark is a big fan of Fafhrd and Gray Mouser, so I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover (as I did quite recently) that The Coils of Hate was inspired by Fritz Leiber Jr’s short story “The Cloud of Hate”. But although Leiber may have had the original idea, Mark did it better. Leiber’s story is really just about anger and violence. Mark drew on his own family’s horrifying experiences in the ‘30s and ‘40s to show what hate is really like once it takes hold of people’s minds.

I said that Mark struggled with flowchart design. Jamie tended to take care of that in their Way of the Tiger and Falcon books, just as I took more of the weight of game mechanics and logic off Oliver Johnson's shoulders for our collaborations. But to be fair to Mark, the structure of The Coils of Hate was especially ambitious. You can undertake multiple activities: opportunistic thievery, investigation into what’s going on, organizing the victims of the pogrom, making sure your friends are safe, and so on. And all that while events are unfolding over time. It’s even more complex than Can You Brexit.

While I was writing a new gamebook for Jamie’s Vulcanverse, I got to thinking how I’d have structured The Coils of Hate. To start with, you’d need keywords that would “remember” how far you’d got through the overall story arc. Say the action is split into four acts. So Keyword_Act_Two tells the book you’re in the second act. (It wouldn’t be called that, obviously; it would be Libation, say. Something that didn’t draw attention to the fact that it’s a time-counting logic flag.)

After completing a subquest, you’d be directed back to a “time counter” paragraph that would then route you to the current act. Something like this:

What about those subquests? The book needs to remember how far you are through them, but that might not (often will not) be linked to what’s going on in the overall arc. For example, maybe you’re calling on your friend Lucie. The first time you meet her she is blithely dismissive of danger. The second time she’s had a bad fright and wants your help. The third time there’s a chance she might betray you to the Overlord’s secret police. So that could work something like this:

And within each option there could be a filter that checks which act you’re in. For example, Lucie might conceivably betray you in the third or fourth act, but not before that. So entry 180 in the example here would then ask, “Do you have the keyword Proteus or Kindly?” and if so you’d get routed to the betrayal storyline; if not there’d be a different encounter with Lucie.

Keywords are needed when something has changed globally that needs to be checked for in multiple places. For example, if the Judain (the persecuted community in the book) are all ordered to wear yellow patches on their clothes, that's something you might see or discuss in several different branches, so I'd use a keyword.

Tickboxes on the other hand track local changes. For instance, the first time I visit an informant some militia come in and smash up his shop. On subsequent visits the book needs to know that the shop is shuttered and there's broken glass on the floor, but a tickbox will do because that's not a condition that makes any difference anywhere else. (We try to minimize the number of keywords because the reader has to check through a whole list every time one is called.)

What triggers the next act? That could be accomplished by tickboxes like we saw in the last example. So the hub section for one of the acts would look something like this:

Taking the prison option, for instance, you’d get into a series of adventures, at the end of which you’d reach a section like this:

Thus, after undertaking four subquests in the current act you're routed through to the next act via section 499 where you'd be given the keyword for that act*. If you were already in act four (as you are in this example) that would lead into the endgame for this book, which involves a showdown with the embodiment of hate as depicted on the cover. Various items and keywords acquired during the adventure would steer the outcome of that battle.

I'm not planning to rewrite The Coils of Hate (Stuart Lloyd already did that) but I am occasionally tempted to revisit the Shadow King storyline that Jamie and I cooked up over twenty years ago. That has the main character trying to stay alive in a world devoid of life but infested with vampires -- sort of an H G Wells take on I Am Legend. I'd definitely need keywords to globally track the passage of time, and tickboxes to record how far you are through various subquests. But is there enough demand for gamebooks these days? Not like there used to be, certainly.

• Coils of Hate on Amazon
• Swords in the Mist by Fritz Leiber Jr

*Any subquest that can only be accessed in the current act would route you back to the hub section for that act (100, 200, 300 or 400) but subquests that can be accessed in more than one act would need to send you back to the master hub, ie 555.

Pitching a gamebook series

A real curiosity today. When Mark Smith and I were pitching the idea for the Virtual Reality gamebook series, we had between us already written about two dozen gamebooks. Even so, publishers wanted to see a sample; it's like a knee-jerk reflex to them. So we quickly cobbled together a jailbreak scenario to show how the diceless VR game system would work.

This little sequence was my part, and I have a feeling that Mark was going to develop Leshand and the undersea kingdom, at least to get the total up to fifty sections. Whether he did so or not I can't remember. We sold the books to a publisher called Mammoth and they did moderately well, but the gamebook craze was already tailing off. We should have done them a few years earlier. I remember the series with mixed feelings. On the one hand it inspired me to write two of my best books (Down Among the Dead Men and Heart of Ice). On the other hand, I had to help out with editing and rewriting Coils of Hate, and memory of that still has me waking up in cold sweats.

VIRTUAL REALITY Adventure Books

(original pitch)

The rules

All you need do in order to play these adventures is choose four skills from the list given below. These four skills will determine your options during the adventure.

In addition, at the back of the book we will provide sample characters for those who wish to begin play straight away. Here is an example:

The Soldier

Skills: ARCHERY, SWORDPLAY, WILDERNESS LORE and AGILITY.

Life Points: 10

Possessions: Bow & arrows, sword, and a money-pouch containing 20 gold pieces.

Profile: Your character is a roving mercenary. You put more trust in your own skills than in friends, of whom you have few. A self-sufficient and perhaps somewhat intimidating individual.

The skills

Fighting skills: ARCHERY, SWORDPLAY, UNARMED COMBAT

Trickster skills: CUNNING, AGILITY, ROGUERY

Sorcery skills: SPELLS, CHARMS, FOLKLORE

Travelling skills: STREETWISE, WILDERNESS LORE, SEAFARING

1

The guards strip you of your weapons and money but do not bother to take any other items you may have. Then they lead you through a maze of passageways whose walls of rough-hewn stone are blackened under centuries of grime. As you pass the heavy iron-barred doorways on your route, you hear the moans and pitiful shrieks of other inmates. “That’s how you’ll sound after a few years in this place,” remarks one of the guards. “Madness is the only escape from here.”

Shoving you roughly into a small cell, they slam the door. The scrape of the key in the lock makes a doleful sound in the gloomy cell. One of the guards slides open a panel in the door and sneers: “Don’t bother getting comfortable. You won’t be here that long.”

The panel bangs shut and you listen to their footfalls recede along the corridor outside. Apart from the rats snuffling about in the corners of the cell, you are alone.

Then the full horror of your predicament falls on you like ice water. They mean to execute you for a crime you did not commit! You must escape.

If you have ROGUERY, turn to 2

If you have SPELLS, turn to 8

Otherwise, turn to 14

2

The lock is child’s play for someone of your unique talents, You have the cell door open in no time.

Turn to 29

3

The old man who is the cell’s sole occupant thanks you for freeing him. He draws his tattered robe around him, managing to muster a shadow of the dignity he must have possessed before his long incarceration in this dreadful place.

“You go on without me,” he insists. “I’m too slow to keep up with a young blood like you, and in any case I travel best alone. But I won’t forget your kindness, and I want you to take this ring as a token of my gratitude.” He pulls a ruby signet out of the ragged folds of his robe and presses it into your hand.

“I can’t accept this,” you protest, perhaps not too adamantly.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “A trinket only. Someday I’ll repay you properly, though –

be sure of that.”

You nod, wasting no time on farewells. Make a note of the signet ring. If you have not previously done so, you can now try the door to the guardroom – turn to 25. If you do not want to go into the guardroom, or did so already, then turn to 29

4

You step through the door and immediately collide with a group of guards who have just finished breakfast. It takes them only a split-second to realise you are an escaped prisoner. One grapples you as the others pull their swords from their scabbards. Within moments you are embroiled in a deadly struggle.

Without martial training you have no hope of survival. If you have either SWORDPLAY or UNARMED COMBAT, turn to 23

5

Against a master of the sword, your strategy is simple suicide. He calmly parries your barrage of desperate attacks, finally disarming you with a deft twist of his blade. You feel his sword-point prick the skin of your throat. “Enough. I yield.”

Attracted by the commotion, a couple of guards rush into the practice halls “Careful, sarge,” says one. “That’s the escaped prisoner.”

The weapons instructor smiles at you. “Oh, not just a common thief, eh? In that case, let me escort your personally to the scaffold.”

It is a short walk across the courtyard, and an even shorter drop to the end of a rope. Your adventure ends here.

6

Escape is impossible. Guards pour down onto the beach and you are swiftly surrounded. Despite a valiant struggle, you  are recaptured and taken back to your cell, where a constant vigil is kept until it is time for your execution.

You are led out to the scaffold and the hangman slips the noose around your neck. You take a breath, see the grisly excitement on the faces of the guards, hear a panel drop away. There is a moment of weightlessness, followed by a blaze of light… and then silence, forever.

7

At last you succeed in, chipping away enough of the mortar to work one of the blocks free. By squeezing through the gap you have made in the wall, you could get into the corridor running behind your cell.

Glancing up at the narrow window-slit, you are alarmed to see that a pale silvery glow has replaced the velvet blackness of night. The guards will soon be coming for you.

If you want to leave the cell immediately via the exit you have made, turn to 13

If you have CUNNING and want to try fooling the guards, turn to 19

If you have UNARMED COMBAT and wait to fight them, turn to 24

8

You bide your time until, at last, you hear the footsteps of the gaoler bringing your supper. He slides open the panel in the door and raises a cup of gruel to the bars. Then you hear him give a gasp of surprise, for he has seen what your magic has wrought.

To your eyes the cell is as before – clammy, dingy, infested with vermin. But, by dint of your magic, the gaoler beholds a different sight: a vision of gold stacked to the ceiling, of glittering jewels and caskets full of rubies like giant drops of blood.

Excited fingers fumble with the key. The door is flung open and the gaoler rushes inside, laughing wildly, to hurl himself at the pile of filthy rushes that served as your bed. Presumably the spell causes him to see it as extravagant jewellery, for he holds each rush up in the torchlight and mutters, ‘Rich! I’m rich!” His rheumy eyes light up with greed, his tongue slavers across thin lips.

The weak-minded dolt. You put paid to him with a swift clout to the back of the neck, then hurry from the cell. You can take his keys if you wish. Turn to 29

9

Taking up the bow, one of the guards nocks on an arrow and shoots at your retreating back. You cry out as searing pain rips through your shoulder. Lose 2 Life Points unless you have CHARMS, in which case a rapidly-muttered protective rhyme saves you from injury.

Now turn to 26

10

You step into the steam, griddle-smoke and clamour of the prison kitchen. Almost at once, a burly man with arms as thick as beef joints stares. at you with an expression of fury. “Get out of my kitchen!” he bellows.

If you retreat as he demands, you can go either to the refectory (turn to 4) or down the passage beside the kitchen (turn to 17).

If you ignore him turn to 12

11

The weapons instructor’s skill is truly impressive. if he were a younger man, he would be one of the most dangerous swordsmen in the world. As it is, your best efforts at defence only just manage to hold him off. Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in your concentration, he breaks through your guard to inflict the loss of 1 Life Point. But by this time, his age and weight are beginning to tell. His breath comes in wheezing gasps and he is moving more slowly. “You wretch...” he puffs. “You’re good… but I’ll get you yet...”

“Sorry;” you reply, “but I’ve got to be off.”

You suddenly dodge away and race out into the courtyard. The weapons instructor is too out of breath to give chase, or even to shout for the guards to stop you. Turn to 22

12

As you press on towards the door leading to the kitchen-yard, you stumble into a pile of pans and bring them crashing to the floor. “I told you to get out,” roars the cook. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“Hey...” realises one of the servants, evidently more astute than his master. “That’s the prisoner they brought in last night!”

“Is it, by, all the gods?” snarls the cook, snatching up bloodied cleaver. He advances on you with several of the kitchen servants bringing up the rear.

You are forced to fight your way past them. Lose 6 Life Points. (Exception: if you have UNARMED COMBAT lose 4 Life Points; if you have SWORDPLAY lose only 2 Life Points.)

If you survive, the kitchen workers back off and allow you to escape past them to the open doorway. Turn to 18

13

You squirm through, emerging into a narrow passage from which two doors lead off. If you want to try either of the doors, will it be the first that you come to (turn to 20) or the one nearer the end of the passage (turn to 25)? If you carry straight on to the end of the passage without delay, turn to 29

14

You languish in the dank cell for several hours. Although cannot think of a way to escape, still your mind is awhirl and sleep will not come. Late in the evening, the panel in the door slides open. You are on your feet in a trice. Is the end to come so soon? But it is only your gaoler. He grins at you, displaying rheumy gums and cracked teeth. “Here’s your supper,” he says, pushing a bowl of gruel at you between the bars.

“But it’s nearly midnight.”

“I’ve been busy” he grunts. “Lodge a complaint with the management if you don’t like the service.”

With a jeering laugh he departs, but you don’t bother to hurl insults after him. Your attention has been caught by the metal spoon in your bowl of gruel. You glance at the stone blocks of the wall. The mortar is old. Crumbling. It will be arduous work, but it is your only hope. You set to work with the spoon.

Turn to 7

15

Snatching a sword from the weapons rack you stand in the doorway and let them come to you. That way they can only fight you one at a time.

The battle is short but furious. You lose 2 Life Points – but they lose their lives. You can now take the bunch of keys and also the bow if you wish.

If you have not already done so, and now want to use the keys to unlock the cell adjacent to this, turn to 3

If you carry on to the end of the passage to look for a way out, turn to 29

16

The presence of the shields and tilting-posts tells you that the building is almost certainly a weapons practice hall. A good place to pick up a sword, if you need one. On the other hand, can you spare the time to take a look?

If you enter the practice hall, turn to 27

If you make straight for the main gate, turn to 22

17

Since breakfast is not yet over, the scullery is almost deserted. There is only one maid here, who favours you with a bored look and a yawn before going back to her chores. The door beyond her is open, and the cool tang of pre-dawn air wafts in.

As you step past the maid, you notice a large cleaver resting beside the sink. At a pinch it would serve as a sword (allowing you to use SWORDPLAY if you have that skill). Take it if you wish, then turn to 31

18

You emerge into the open air. Grey pre-dawn twilight suffuses the sky. Seeing the main gate is open, you race towards it ignoring the sounds of pursuit. The two guards at the gate stir themselves, but you have run past before they realise what is happening.

Your headlong flight brings you to a. narrow strand of shingle. There are some boats a few hundred metres further along the beach, but you could never reach them in time.

If you have SEAFARING, turn to 28

If you have CHARMS, turn to 33

If you have neither of these, turn to 36

19

You conceal yourself under a pile of rags and lice-ridden blankets in the far corner of the cell.

To a casual observer it is as though the cell is empty – and indeed, when the guards arrive that is exactly what they assume. They are so startled by the sight of the gap in the wall that they do not so much as glance at your hiding-place.

After a moment of slack-jawed astonishment, one of them yells, “Escaped prisoner! Sound the alarm!” They run off to fetch their comrades, leaving the cell door open. You follow at a circumspect distance, slinking back into the shadows of a side passage as they come racing back with reinforcements.

Now, with most of the prison’s available guards searching for you through an escape hole that you never used, you are able to saunter out into the open unobserved. Turn to 31

20

It is locked. Hearing a moan from inside, you slide open the barred aperture in the centre of the door. You peer into a cramped cell where an old man cowers miserably in chains. “Eh?” he says weakly, looking up. “You’re not the regular gaoler.”

“I’m escaping,” you reply, raising a finger to your lips.

He nods, understanding. “The guardroom is directly adjacent to this cell,” he tells you in a whisper. “Be careful – and godspeed.”

If you have a set of keys and wish to free him, turn to 3

If you risk entering the guardroom despite his warning, turn to 25

Otherwise, turn to 29

21

The first guard comes straight at you, holding his sword back for a thrust to the vitals. You wait until the last moment, then grab the edge of the door and swing it half-shut as he stabs with the sword. His blade impales the wood, stuck fast, and you have no trouble despatching him with a kick to the jaw.

The others are harder now that they have seen enough to be wary of you. Even though you keep to the doorway, the narrow space cancelling out their advantage of numbers, it is a gruelling melee in which you lose 4 Life Points.

If you survive, you manage to overcome them all in the end. You can now take any or all of these items: a bunch of keys, a sword, and a bow. Remember to make a note of anything you keep.

If you want to use the keys to unlock the cell adjacent to this room (assuming you did not do this previously), turn to 3

If you carry on to the end of the passage to look for a way out, turn to 29

22

Huddling into your jerkin, you affect the exhausted gait of a servant returning home after working all night. The few guards nearby take no notice of you. Ahead lies a narrow stretch of shingle. Beyond, looming in the morning mist like a faded tapestry, you can see the towers and domes of Port Leshand.

If you have SEAFARING, turn to 28

If you have CHARMS, turn to 33

If you have neither of these, you will have to go in search of a rowboat - turn to 36

23

You push the first guard aside and block desperately as the others close in. The force of their attack drives you back despite your skill, and you give a gasp of pain as one -of their-blades lays open a gash in your leg.

Against such overwhelming odds, you are hard pressed. With SWORDPLAY (and a sword.) you lose 5 Life Points. If you have UNARMED COMBAT you lose 9 Life Points.

Assuming you survive, you manage to break free and race across the vestibule to the passage. It takes you through the scullery into the courtyard.

Turn to 18

24

You stand in the middle of the cell with your back to the door. Your concentration is intense as you prepare yourself for battle. At last your patience is rewarded by the sound of footsteps and the key grating in the lock. “Come on, you”, snarls a voice. “Haven’t got all dayZ

You ignore him.

“Not in any hurry to check over the scaffold?” asks another guard nastily. “But we had it built just for you!”

Seeing that you still remain immobile, one of the guards enters the cell. The scuff of his boots on the flagstones tells you his stance, left foot advanced towards you. You picture him in your mind’s eye: sword arm held back, reaching for you with his left hand…

The moment you feel his grip on your shoulder, you reach up to seize the wrist and apply a nerve pinch, twisting the arm around as you turn so as to block any possibility of a sword thrust.

When the other guard hears his companion cry out, he rushes in to give aid. Both have swords, but they are hampered by the narrow confines of the cell. You overcome them both with the loss of only 2 Life Points.

You can take one of their swords if you wish. Then turn to 29

25

The door opens and you stride boldly into a room where four guards sit playing knucklebones by the light of an oil lamp. They look up in surprise. It takes them a moment to realise you are an escaped prisoner – but only a moment. In that brief time you take in your immediate surroundings: the bunch of keys hanging beside the door and the weapons rack off to your left. A number of swords have been left there, along with one bow.

If you decide to run for it, you have time to snatch one item – keys, sword, or bow. Note which you take and turn to 30

To fight them, you will need either SWORDPLAY (turn to 15) or UNARMED COMBAT (turn to 21).

26

You sprint to the end of the passageway, emerging into a vestibule with several doors leading off it. A servant is just coming out of the door directly ahead of you. You shoulder him aside, upsetting the tray he is carrying, and race into the prison kitchen. All around you, huge pots emit the steam and reek of boiled vegetables.

Hearing the commotion in your wake, the cook and two of his helpers take up cleavers and run to intercept you. You have no choice but to fight your way through them as You try to reach the exit. Lose 6 Life Points. (Exception: if you have UNARMED COMBAT lose 4 Life Points; if you have SWORDPLAY lose only 2 Life Points.)

Assuming you survive, you reach the bloodied but unbowed. The guards are pouring into the kitchen behind you, but the debris of your battle delays them for a few precious seconds. Turn to 18

27

The practice hall is little more than a barn where guards can practice and take exercise when the weather is too wet to use the courtyard. You search around, soon finding a weapons rack with a few old swords resting on it. You check them for balance and the quality of the blade, and have just chosen the best of a fairly poor selection when a voice rings cut from the doorway behind you.

“You varlet! Stealing weapons, are you?”

You turn. A portly middle-aged, man is standing there, wearing the chainmail tunic of a sergeant-at-arms. He has a fine sword in his hand, its tip resting lightly on the ground in front of him. His florid face, bald pate and bristling grey moustache give him a somewhat comical look.

“Back off, grandad,” you say, shaking your head as you heft the sword you’ve just found. “Why stick your neck out when you’re so close to retirement anyway?”

He glares, then suddenly raises his sword-point, twirling it in an elegant flourish. Despite his girth, he moves into a perfect fighting stance. A cold realization hits you as he says, ‘It is your neck that is at risk, you dog.” Of course – he must be the weapons instructor here. Almost certainly he is a master of the sword!

If you have AGILITY, you might be able to get past him to the doorway. Turn to 32 if you want to try that.

Otherwise, you have the option to either fight defensively, keeping your guard up (turn to 11) or to battle furiously in an attempt to break past him and run off (turn to 5).

28

Peering through the morning mist, you can just discern the ghostly outlines of the mainland. It would be an impossible swim for most people, but merely arduous for an experienced seaman like yourself.

You plunge out into the waves, ignoring the biting chill of the water, and drive with swift powerful strokes in the direction of Leshand’s harbour mouth.

Turn to 37

29

At the end of a winding corridor you come to a vestibule with two doors leading off it. There is also a narrow passage beside the door nearer to you. Just as you are deciding which route to take, one of the doors opens and the smells and sounds of cooking waft out.

You dodge back out of sight just in time. A servant emerges from the kitchen bearing several bowls of porridge on a tray. He crosses to the other door and goes through. As the door swings shut, you hear a voice saying, “About time! Don’t you know we’ve got to be on duty in a few minutes?”

Obviously the further door is the refectory, and the nearer door must be the kitchen. The passage probably leads to the scullery or the kitchen yard.

If you enter the refectory, turn to 4

If you take the door to the kitchen, turn to 10

If you head along the scullery passage, turn to 17

30

You spin round and sprint along the passage. Behind you, the guards pour through the open doorway with shouts of rage. If you did not take the bow from the weapons rack, turn to 9. If you did take the bow, turn to 26

31

You emerge into the prison courtyard. A scaffold stands here with a noose strung from its crossbeams, no doubt awaiting your neck. You have every intention of avoiding that fate, however.

The sun has yet to rise, but the sky is now aglow with a limpid azure gleam, making  it seem like a startlingly clear ocean. The stars are fading, Two guards are at the main gate directly ahead of you, but they are lounging against the gatehouse and yawning. You guess they must be close to the end of their watch, so you may be able to slip by unchallenged.

You are halfway to the gate when you notice a long low building off to your right. There are a couple of stout wooden posts outside it, heavily scarred as if by sword-blows, and some wicker shields rest beside the open entrance.

If you have SWORDPLAY (whether or not you currently possess a sword), turn to 16

If not you hurry on towards the gate: turn to 22

32

You charge at the weapons instructor, sword raised high as if you intend to chop down at his head. As he lifts his own sword to deflect the blow, you suddenly weave to one side and go into a forward roll which carries you right past him and through the open doorway. Coming to your feet, you sprint off across the courtyard towards the main gate. The weapons instructor bellows a variety of curses at you as you go, but this seems to excite little interest from the gate guards. Presumably, if he is anything like the weapons instructors you’ve known, they are used to seeing him yell at people.

Turn to 22

33

You recite an enchantment that protects the caster from drowning, then plunge out into the chilly water. Waves surge up over your head, but you continue until you are completely submerged. No doubt if anyone saw you they will assume you have chosen to drown yourself rather than die meekly by a hangman’s noose. The truth, however, is that you are able to stride along on the sea bed with no discomfort to speak of. Fish glide past you, gaping stupidly at the sight. The ocean currents take some getting used to, since it is like walking in the depths of a dream, but your progress is amusing rather than difficult.

As you get your bearings, intending to strike out towards the quays of Port Leshand, you spy a glitter of myriad lights through the blue-green murk. Straining your eyes, you think to see shapes like towers of coral, out to sea beyond banks of eerily swaying seaweed.

If you have FOLKLORE, perhaps you have heard legends of an undersea kingdom – turn to 35. Otherwise, you can either head in the direction of the mysterious lights (turn to 38) or else continue with your original intention of walking back to Leshand harbour (turn to 37).