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.

Halloween treat, no trick

Forty years ago I wrote my first gamebook. I was a roleplayer and board gamer. I’d played the Fantasy Trip solo adventures, and even wrote a short solo dungeon for my friend Steve Foster (designer of Mortal Combat) when he had to spend a week in hospital, but I’d hardly noticed the growing kids’ gamebook craze until Ian Livingstone asked me to write a serialized solo adventure for White Dwarf. That was The Castle of Lost Souls.

It wasn’t long before almost everyone I knew was signing up to write a gamebook series. Joe Dever and Gary Chalk left Games Workshop to do Lone Wolf. Jamie Thomson too, teaming up with Mark Smith (who was another stalwart of our Tekumel campaign) to create Way of the Tiger and Falcon. You can see why Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson (UK) might have felt a bit miffed. They’d started a trend and now half their workforce was deserting the ship to jump on the bandwagon – if that isn’t mixing metaphors.

I used to freelance for White Dwarf a lot in those days, but once Jamie quit the editorial chair I didn’t have as much reason to show up at the office. Then Steve Jackson asked me to come in to talk about a series of gamebooks that he wanted to publish. He and Ian were committed to doing more Fighting Fantasy for Puffin Books, so these would be Games Workshop’s own series.

Steve was always coming up with fascinating game mechanics. He told me about a little tactical combat system he’d thought of when stuck in a motel in the middle of America. You had a tactical diagram that showed which actions were permitted in a combat round. So from EVADE you could move to DEFEND, REST or NORMAL ATTACK. From DEFEND you could only move to EVADE or NORMAL ATTACK, and so on.

When the player’s action was compared with the opponent’s, that gave the number of hit points each combatant lost. ‘Do you think you could use this for a gamebook?’ Steve wondered.

I went away and did a little work on it. I can’t remember how I handled the NPC adversaries, but this was a 1980s gamebook so there wasn’t going to be any AI. Probably the NPCs just acted randomly each round, and that was cross-referenced with the player’s action to give the outcome for that round. That would eat up a lot of paragraphs if every encounter had its own set of action entries, so I imagine I had a few dozen entries for each of several types of monster. They could be customized by SPECIAL ATTACKS, which would vary depending on the monster.

‘Looks good,’ reckoned Steve, ‘but I’d like to see a sample. Fifty or sixty sections, say.’

I went home, sat down at my Olympia Traveller typewriter, and began: ‘Dusk in Wistren Wood…’ and launched into a solo adventure in a vampire’s mansion. When I showed it to Steve he liked it and proposed a contract for Vampire Crypt, as it was then called. When the contract came it had a clause preventing me from writing gamebooks for any other publishers. I’m glad I never signed it, as if I had then my writing career would have been over before it began. (You may have noticed that Games Workshop never did get around to publishing their own gamebook series.)

Still, I was left with the beginning of a gamebook. When I signed with Grafton Books a few months later to do the Golden Dragon series, those fifty sample sections let me get a head start on the tight deadlines. Of course I couldn’t use Steve Jackson’s clever rule system, but Golden Dragon needed something a lot simpler anyhow. And thus Crypt of the Vampire was born – or spawned, or sired, or whatever the appropriate term is for vamps.

(Yes, these are the original maps and notes. I'm that much of a hoarder.)

And here we are at the 40th anniversary. To mark it I dug out a reboot of the book that I wrote for Amazon a couple of years ago. They wanted apps for Alexa (for some reason they call them skills) so I turned Crypt of the Vampire into The Vampire’s Lair, a consciously old-school adventure in audio form. Rather than retain the dungeon fantasy flavour of the original, though, I leaned into the influences of those Universal and Hammer monster movies I loved as a kid, when horror was delicious shuddersome fun and before it became synonymous with serial killers, torture porn and (yawn) demonic possession.

The text I wrote for that is now on sale for Halloween in a slim paperback with Leo Hartas’s original illustrations reworked in full colour. (My generous Patreon backers get to read it for free -- just sayin'.) It was Leo’s first book too. I’d seen his portfolio when he came into the White Dwarf offices one day, and when my editor at Grafton, Angela Sheehan, asked me if there were any artists I wanted for the series Leo's name sprang to mind. And because of that I began a close and dear friendship, a friendship which also now forty years old. If it were a marriage that means Leo and I would be celebrating our ruby anniversary – a very suitable hue given the blood-sucking tastes of the sinister count.

Party like it's 1982

Thirty-eight years ago today, Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson shook up the gamebook scene with The Warlock of Firetop Mountain, which combined the interactive stories of Choose Your Own Adventure with the dice-rolling of Dungeons & Dragons. To mark that publishing milestone, gamebook author Jonathan Green has organized International Gamebook Day, of which he says:

"We have interviews, read-throughs, giveaways and other things planned throughout the day, but please feel free to post on the event page on Thursday yourself. If you are an author, post links to your books. If you are artist, feel free to post images of your illustrations and links to your gallery. If you are an editor, post stories of your experiences commissioning gamebooks. And if you are a fan, post links to and images of your favourite series and photos of your collections."

You can find it on Facebook and and on Twitter at @GamebookDay. I expect most of it will be about Fighting Fantasy, but if you're interested in some of the series that I've worked on then here's one I made earlier:

That's me, Jamie Thomson and Paul Mason talking about a whole bunch of gamebooks including Fabled Lands, Robin of Sherwood, Way of the Tiger, Blood Sword, Golden Dragon, Falcon, Critical IF -- and, of course, the very best titles in the FF series too.

The dice men cometh

I promised we’d get the skinny on what Jamie has been getting up to. He was reluctant to emerge from his lair and tell me, so I sent Dirk Lloyd round to prod him. Hard.

DIRK: So, you vile tentacled freak, what's this new book project you're working on with Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson?

JAMIE: I've been tapped by my old bosses, Ian Livingstone (or my 'Dark Master' as I call him) and Steve Jackson, to write up the history of one of our country's most iconic games companies, Games Workshop. Well, at any rate, its history up to 1985 or so, when Ian and Steve sold it for a lot of gold pieces. We've launched the book on Unbound.

DIRK: As usual, I'm not really getting what you're talking about. What's Unbound? Is it like Kickstarter?

JAMIE: It's pretty much a Kickstarter for books, but only books and nothing else. Unbound are more involved in the whole end-to-end process than Kickstarter, though. They're more like a crowdfunded publisher than just a commercial process for crowdfunding, if you see what I mean. So, if a given book project gets funded they will also do the printing and distributing of the book, and then sell it afterwards, usually in conjunction with a mainstream publisher. A bit like what we do with our Fabled Lands stuff, though we haven't got the reach or the contacts that Unbound has. Maybe one day!

DIRK: You're so old and decrepit now, like some kind of shambling, Alzheimery troll thing, I'd forgotten you ever actually held down a job. How did you first get involved with Games Workshop?

JAMIE: Hah, now that's a story. Way back when I left university, around 1980, I was flailing about pretty cluelessly trying to work out what to do with my life. I spent most of my time playing a game I'd got recently, in a little white box with three little ochre-coloured booklets inside...

Which I'd bought from GW, as it happens. Along with my White Dwarf mags. Instead of job hunting, I was painting figurines. My mum pointed out an ad for a job as a features editor on that selfsame magazine. I thought to myself I'd have no hope whatsoever of ever getting that job. It would be like a miracle, a dream job, working with people I admired from afar. So I gave up on the idea pretty quick. But my mum had other ideas. She had to get her nerdy, 21-year-old, paint-stained son out of the damn house, as soon as. So she rang Ian Livingstone.

And they chatted, and Ian said sure, send him up for an interview. And I went up there, had the interview, got the job! And that's how I ended up as assistant editor on White Dwarf in the early ‘80s. All thanks to my mum.

DIRK: Watching you dribble your food down the front of your shirt for the umpteenth time, I'm surprised you can remember any of that, let alone the rest of it. But anyway. What sort of stories will be in the book? Can you give us a teaser? And photos, presumably? Fresh young faces with flares and big afro 'dos?

JAMIE: Well, it won't just be how the company developed and grew and so on – the business narrative. There will be a lot of that obviously, but also there'll be stuff like the anecdote about how I got the job, for instance, but not just me. There'll be the experiences of the people that worked there. Sure, mostly Ian and Steve, but there were a whole bunch of other folk back in the day, people I'm still in contact with. Like Gary Chalk, Russ Nicholson, and Joe Dever too, though he's sadly left us now, but I've still got a story or two to put in about him. And a bunch of other folk working for or associated with GW. Including Dave Morris, White Dwarf contributor extra-ordinaire!

Here's a pic from the heyday, 1983. Gary Chalk, me, Steve and Ian front row, middle, with dear old Joe Dever standing behind Gary.

Mind you, most of the book will be the early days, about the start of it all. Like this photo of the first ever customer in the first ever Games Workshop. Apparently that bearded fellow had been queuing all night...

Not to mention all the ins and outs of the directors and the day to day running of the company...

Games Workshop Board Meeting

And we won't be shying away from those controversial moments too…

That's the Mail for you, mind. Hasn't really changed much, has it?

DIRK: Assuming you're actually still capable of writing a book, when will this be out?

JAMIE: That kind of depends on when the funding goals are reached, but probably summer/autumn of next year. To be part of this exciting new venture, and to help me pay my grocery bills for another few months, shoot over to the official Unbound site where you can pledge for a copy of The Dice Men.

DIRK: Never mind your pointless little hobbies. People should spend their money on my darkly glorious works. Or else.

No dice: rules mechanics for non-random combat

I’m often having a go at dice in digital gamebooks. It's a legacy feature, like having section numbers displayed. Might as well have the reader rub out text with their thumb. (Hey, that might actually be a cool thing on an iPad. Not in e-gamebooks, though, thank you all the same.)

Assuming a gamebook has skill checks and combats (and that’s an assumption worth challenging) the question remains: if not dice then what?

In an earlier post I talked about the combat mechanic in Inkle’s digital adaptation of Steve Jackson’s Sorcery books. This is similar to the system used in classic boardgame Apocalypse – and seeing as Steve is a hardcover boardgamer, and such a fan of Apocalypse (née The Warlord) that he published it in 1980, I wouldn’t mind betting that he came up with that.

The way it works in Apocalypse was that one territory attacks another. The attacker hides a number from 1 to 6 (not exceeding the number of units in the attacking territory) and the defender makes a guess. If the defender guesses the number right, the attacker loses that number of units from his territory. If the defender guesses wrong, he loses one unit from his territory and the attacker gains a reward (a segment of missile) for use later in the game. Also, if the defender’s territory is now vacant – that is, if he just removed his last unit there – the number the attacker selected is how many units he gets to move in and take the territory. A high number is good for holding the territory, but the defender knows that so it’s a will-he-won’t-he puzzle.

Nick Henfrey and I used a similar mechanic in our Lord of Light boardgame for Games Workshop. Oh, you don’t remember that one? That’s only because Workshop lost interest in it a few minutes after our first meeting. Nick and I didn’t get the memo, so we completed a rather good boardgame and if anyone would like to publish it (perhaps with Kirby concept art) the email address is right there in the sidebar.

Rather than waste a neat game mechanic, I recycled it as the Spiral of Gold, a pastime of the Magi in The Battlepits of Krarth. Here’s Grandmaster Klef explaining how it works:

The being spreads his hands over the surface of the table. As he draws them back, fourteen gleaming gold coins are revealed - seven in a line in front of him, seven on your side of the table. Beside each line of coins rests a six-sided die. All the coins are showing heads.

‘I am called Kief,’ says the mysterious being. ‘I am Grandmaster of this game, which the True Magi called the Spiral of Gold. Pay close attention as I explain it to you.

‘We play in Rounds, called Spirals. In the first Spiral I shall secretly select a number on my die, placing it under my hand with the number I have chosen uppermost. You do the same. Then we reveal and compare our chosen numbers. Suppose that I have the higher number. In this case you would lose some of your coins - equal to the difference between our two chosen numbers. I do not get the coins you lose; they just vanish. All right, so in our example you’ve lost some of your coins. I wouldn’t lose any, but the number I displayed on my die is the number of coins I have to flip over from heads to tails. So if I displayed a 4 and you displayed a 3, you’d lose one coin and I’d have to flip over four of my coins from heads to tails. 

‘We then start the next Spiral by recovering – that is, if either player has any coins showing tails, he can flip one of them over to heads again. Then we select numbers as before, and play proceeds until one player has no heads showing at the end of a Spiral. Then he’s lost.

‘There are three other rules you must remember. You cannot choose a number on your die that is equal to or greater than the number of heads you have showing. That means that we can each put any number from 1 to 6 on the first Spiral, since we start with seven coins, all heads up. But if at some later point in the game I had only five heads showing, I’d have to choose a number from 1 to 4. Secondly, if we both choose the same number then that Spiral is a draw and neither player loses anything. Lastly, when you have to lose a number of coins you must take them from the heads, not the tails, among the coins you have left.'

All of which goes to show you can have a combat system (or any conflicting skill resolution) without going to the fuss of having virtual dice rattle around on the screen of the phone, tablet or PC you’re running your digital gamebook on. If Jamie and I get around to doing digital versions of the Blood Sword books, that's how we'll work it.

What sorcery is this?

The strain of fantasy represented by Dungeons and Dragons and the subdivision of same that is Fighting Fantasy are not my cup of tea, but I always had a bit of a soft spot for Steve Jackson's Sorcery gamebooks. I remember actually playing through a couple of them - and bear in mind that Jamie and I spent most of our working days back in the '80s writing gamebooks, so reading other people's wasn't usually the leisure activity we'd pick to while away an evening.

The Sorcery books benefited from Steve Jackson's innovative gameplay ideas (most notably the magic system, based on 3-letter spells that the reader had to cast from memory) and a world that was a bit more interesting than the usual DnD-flavoured setting. Apparently Steve was inspired by his travels in Nepal and, while we're not talking Tekumel here or even Jorune, there is a genuine sense of the exotic that moves it away from being sort-of Tolkien, sort-of medieval. It was also possibly the first time that a series of gamebooks built into one single epic quest. Oh, and it wasn't just room after room in a big old dungeon. In 1985, something new like Sorcery really stood out.

It's fitting, then, that now that gamebooks are enjoying an Indian summer thanks to digital media, the Sorcery series is getting a retool from the Rolls-Royce Ltd of interactive book apps, Inkle Studios. The first of their Sorcery adaptations for iPad, The Shamutanti Hills, was released this week and, as Kotaku's reviewer commented, it "takes the genre to a whole new level".

Full disclosure: Inkle were the developers of my Frankenstein app, and were responsible for its gorgeous look and feel as well as providing the smoothest set of tools for writing I could have wished for - so you may need to correct for a slight bias here. But even allowing for that, I've already spent three or four hours playing Sorcery and it was only released a couple of days ago. So trust me, it's going to be a gamebook-changer.

We were recently discussing the clattery old dice-based combat systems in gamebooks of yore, so I'll start with that. Inkle have dispensed with the random rolls in favour of a streamlined tactical system that allows for an element of skill. Combats are now really rather fun, as strong attacks temporarily sap your energy and, if the opponent attacks more strongly (as in the screenshot below), will also result in you taking a more serious wound. You'll sit judiciously weighing up your choice each round and wincing when a wrong move has you stumbling into the path of the enemy's sword.

As you'd expect from Inkle, the imagery and visual design are glorious. Even something as simple as selecting the three letters of a spell is evocative and tactile, and navigating on the 3D map feels almost like dropping into the title sequence of Game of Thrones. (Okay, maybe I'm overstating it a bit there, but it's a safe bet that's where Inkle are headed in future. Give 'em time.)

So, that map. I expected to find myself skimming the text and just playing the game like an '80s top-down CRPG, but in fact the transition between map and text is pretty seamless. The more visually enhanced and videogame-like a gamebook becomes, in theory, the less patience the player will have for prose. That's not to say that long sections of text can't work in digital gamebooks, just that you have to decide where to set the slider: book or game? Sorcery's specific balance is probably not the only right answer, but it's certainly one of them.

I didn't keep my copies of the original books, so it's hard to say how much of the text is Steve Jackson's and how much has been added by Jon Ingold, but the end result certainly feels fresh and vigorously fast-paced. There are also elegant turns of phrase and sophisticated storytelling techniques like the opening flashforward that I think must have come from Jon. Either way, it's a nice read with most of the traditional DnD campaign tropes given a shiny new trim thanks to the finer and more immediate writing style.

Quibbles there are a few. The map navigation occasionally leads you to expect more freedom than the original structure of the adventure allows. So, for example, you'll venture into a tavern only to find that the option to visit a nearby waterfall disappears for good. Now, if only this had been a Fabled Lands book instead of... Ah, but now I'm dreaming.

The monsters let the setting down a bit. Ratbears. Goblins. Manticores. Trolls. Giant bats. We certainly can't blame Inkle for that. They had to work with the books they were given, and I expect those were originally populated from a Monster Manual for the sake of an afternoon's gaming. The only reason I draw attention to it is that there's that little hint of something special in the world and the religion, and then we get the usual thudding parade of DnD creatures, which is a shame.

Oh, and another legacy from the books is the flip-of-a-coin flippancy with which you may get killed. A witch is casting a spell. Do you leap left or right? Make the wrong choice and you're fried. Gamebook readers of thirty years ago may have stood for that but, alongside all the genuine innovations Inkle has put into this, the old cavalier style of gamebook "GMing" is kind of fusty.

I don't want to make too much of the quibbles, though. Make no mistake, this is a revolutionary app that has for the most part completely rejuvenated its source material. In every sense - graphics, writing, animation, music - Sorcery is a deluxe product worth hours of entertainment for the absurdly low price of £2.99. No, I can't believe that either. Snap it up while you can and count the days until Inkle release the second book, Cityport of Traps. Me, I'm standing outside the walls of Khare even as we speak.

Does interactive fiction need randomness?

I've made no bones (ha ha) about not liking dice in digital gamebooks. I’m not talking here about randomness in general (we’ll get onto that) but yer actual spotted cubes. When I’m playing a print gamebook – or, as is far more likely, playing an RPG – I don’t find the action of rolling dice especially disruptive. It’s tolerable, anyway. But when the book is on a screen, interrupting the flow of the story to show some animated dice clattering around just strikes me as inflicting brutal and unnecessary harm to any sense of immersion.

This is a personal view, however. As a designer, I’m not saying there shouldn’t be dice. Some gamebook nostalgia buffs like having them, and if the implementation isn’t going to cost too much then why not offer the option? But it should be an option. Someone who has never played a print gamebook will, quite rightly, find the use of dice to make no sense whatsoever. It’s like having animated turning pages and rustling paper sounds. Only worse.

But if not dice – if we want to move onto a new generation of gamebooks without dice – what are our options? (And incidentally this is a good point to mention that the evolution of gamebooks is also the subject of a series of very interesting posts on the Mysterious Path blog.)

That opens up the whole question of randomness. In a face to face RPG, typically when I hit a foe with a sword I might do 2-12 points of damage or whatever. In a computer RPG, on the other hand, the amount of damage is usually fixed for a given weapon, opponent and combat manoeuvre. Here’s why. If I can see my lucky or unlucky dice roll on a tabletop, and feel (utterly unsuperstitious though I am) that I was in some way responsible for that roll, I can accept it. But if I get into the same fight in a CRPG and lose because lousy numbers are generated, I’m not going to keep playing. It’s the device that made the roll, not me. I want victory in a videogame to be about tactics, reaction speed and choice of weapon, not blind luck.

In a digital gamebook it’s not likely to come down to reaction speed, nor indeed to the simple stabbing at controller buttons that satisfies us in most videogames. How do we play to the strengths of the medium? One way is to reason that, reading a gamebook being a cerebral sort of activity, maybe the fights can have a more cunning rule mechanic. This is what Inkle and Steve Jackson (the UK one) have done in the Sorcery app. You pick an attack strength, so does the opponent. The higher number inflicts damage, but also fatigues the attacker so that he can’t put as high a number next round.

This fits with the sense you get when playing a digital gamebook that you are laying a story behind you as you go. In the case of Sorcery (or Frankenstein) that’s explicit in that the sections of text are stitched together. You could show that text to somebody else and they could read it as if it were the novelization of your adventure.

I like this because it’s how we perceive time. The future is fizzing with all these quantum possibilities, the past is fixed in one shape. But hold on. If we are indeed creating a novel-like experience as we play, doesn’t that beg the question of how much prominence should be given to fights and other tests of skills, whether randomly or strategically decided? I’ve blogged before about how fights are tricky in fiction. I can’t actually remember the last novel I read that had a fight in it, and I’m willing to bet that even in A Song of Fire and Ice you don’t get very many – and that they aren’t ever described blow by blow unless (a) a lot hangs on the outcome and (b) there’s something clever, dramatic and unexpected about how it plays out.

The thing is, how much fun is it to read, “You strike at the goblin, but he parries. He ripostes and you react too slowly. His sword lays open a long gash in your arm.” It doesn’t matter if, instead of generating this stuff procedurally, you have Jeanette Winterson writing it for you. It’s just not interesting. Which makes me suspect that, in the context of a digital gamebook, it isn’t interesting to play either.

Some will say at this point, “But I like picking my main weapon, my armour, deciding when to drink the healing potion, selecting a combat stance.” Then, honestly, you need to play The Witcher, which does all that stuff with a lot more excitement and eye candy than you’re going to get in a medium that is principally prose.

That’s not to say gamebooks have to drop the gameplay aspect. You can have “interesting choices” in stories. 007 games his showdown with Oddjob – much to the delight of my eight-year-old self. And do you know how Conan defeats the peerless swordsman Mikhal Oglu? Pure gameplay. The tactic is so surprising and brilliant, in fact, that Roy Thomas doesn’t even need to show the ensuing fight. There’s no randomness there, of course. The smart choice trumps all others.

But how much do we want the gameplay to be visible? If the Game of Thrones TV show had on-screen bars showing characters’ declining political influence stats, would that make us more engaged, or less? One of the reasons that role-playing isn’t more popular is that most people don’t have the kind of mind that can see “Strength 14” on a sheet and turn that into an intuitive feel for the character. Storytelling has rules, as anyone who has done improvised storytelling will know. It’s just that those rules are a lot more implicit, interesting and subtle than THAC0.

In short, if we want more people to read gamebooks, we need to de-geek the mechanics. Mostly that means hiding them altogether, as in Frankenstein, where I do have stats (Trust, Empathy, and so on) but the reader never gets to see them, only their effects. And, if you can’t see the stats being applied, there’s no point in randomness. It’s simply no longer relevant to creating an engrossing interactive story.

Thanks to Farrin N. Abbott of CopyCatFilms for the intertitle card.

Inkle's digital Sorcery

If you're a longtime gamebook fan then you'll be aware of Steve Jackson's Sorcery series of linked gamebooks with a blend of unusual game mechanics and puzzles set in a world that was part Nepal, part Middle Earth. Tekumel it wasn't, but it was streets ahead of the competition back in the '80s.

I don't know if the Sorcery books ever explicitly connected with the Fighting Fantasy world of Alan, but in the minds of the readers I'm sure it was an easy glide between the two. (And in fact Wizard Books's new edition explicitly places them in the FF series, which clinches it.)

But that was then. It was a time when trees had to die so that we could read. Now dawns the age of backlit glass and pixels, a world in which gamebooks stand blinking like a cosily familiar but hopelessly befuddled elderly relative. So I've been curious to see what Inkle Studios would do with the iPad adaptation of Sorcery.

Inkle, as you may know, supplied the luscious visual design that burnished the iOS version of my Frankenstein interactive novel. The expectation for Sorcery, then, was that we'd see a graphically enhanced port of the books onto iPad. Now that Inkle are unveiling some details, it looks to be much more interesting than that. Sure, there's a lovely drawn 3D map by Mike Schley and dynamic character animation for the combats by Eddie Sharam. But instead of just a gamebook on a tablet, what we're seeing here is an evolution of gamebooks into something new.

On the surface it looks like a top-down CRPG (which is something much more likely to get a few hours of my time than a Fighting Fantasy book) but the truth is more complex and more interesting. You can go back and forth around the world Fabled Lands style, which I don't think was a feature of the original Sorcery books. More importantly, look what they've done with the text. It develops as you go - not in a simple old-style gamebook way, where the text you read depends on whether you take the money or open the box. Oh no. The style of the narrative - the way things are described, the way you speak - is shaped by the way you're playing.

Say you stride boldly into every battle. The system learns that and gives you text that portrays you as fearless. The things you say will be forthright and challenging. It's the original concept of Fable, only here it looks like it might go deeper than the colour of armour you wear over your Union Jack underpants. And the text that is being written aggregates a complete story, right down to the level of having procedurally-generated descriptions of the fights you get into. You could give the end result to a friend and it's the novel of your imaginary life. This is sounding a lot cooler than "roll two dice and add your Skill", isn't it?

The first Sorcery book/game is coming out in May, with the sequel due by the autumn. In my view it's a game changer, and the best hope for traditional "D&D-style" adventure gamebooks to find a niche along CRPGs in the 21st century. However, don't think for a moment that I'm giving up on my forthcoming Infinite IF gamebooks. They have something going for them that FF has never been renowned for: the quality of the writing, the story and the characters. That's why we're releasing them as ebooks, not apps, and have purposely kept them free of animated frills. But more on that next time.