The Let's Play Archive


by Nakar

Part 53: Level Three: One Dumb Lizard, One Dumber Knight

Level Three: One Dumb Lizard, One Dumber Knight

Straight White Shark gives us a rundown of the clues in a quick fashion, focusing on the two species the Questing Beast actually asks about:

Straight White Shark posted:

It does not actually seem to be necessary to figure everything out, although once you arrive at the answer it's trivial to finish out the grid. And probably a good idea--submitting a partial answer may be a trap in that you might not know if your answer contains a contradiction that you haven't gotten to yet.

Those who wield swords are a different group than Saurians or Orcs.
Elves could not wield swords; they wielded bows.
Insectidae could not wield swords.
Therefore, humans wielded swords.

Humans did not ride bears, so they do not worship the Lady.
Humans did not wield clubs, so they do not worship Death.
Humans did not wield spears, so they didn't worship the First Cause.
Humans did not worship the Mad One.
Therefore humans worshipped the Hunter.

Orcs are different from those who rode warfrogs or those who rode bears.
Orcs rode neither zebras nor pterodactyls.
Therefore orcs rode wolves.

Humans (those who wield swords) were not those who rode warfrogs or those who rode bears.
Humans did not wield shuriken, so they could not ride pterodactyls.
Wolves are already claimed.
Therefore humans rode zebras.

Halfway there! (Human - Zebra - Sword - Hunter.)

Saurians were not those who rode warfrogs or those who rode bears.
Humans and orcs have claimed mounts beside warfrog and bear.
Therefore elves/insectidae both rode either warfrog/bear.

Wolves and zebras are already claimed.
Therefore saurians rode pterodactyls, which means they wield shuriken.

Insectidae did not worship Death, so they cannot wield clubs.
Bow/sword/shuriken are all claimed.
Therefore insectidae wielded spears, which means they worship the First Cause.

Insectidae do not worship the Lady, so they did not ride bears.
That means they rode warfrogs.

That gives us the other half of the answer (Insect - Warfrog - Spear - First Cause.)
Now, does the Questing Beast agree?

"You have done as I asked," says the Questing Beast nervously, "wherefore shall I tell you this: A creature of unusual dimensions has been trained to carry passengers across the river. To summon it, you must stand by the river bank, and cry forth, 'chuck chuck.'"

"What?" you say.

"The Lady's Staff? What's that?"

"An object of great power," says the Questing Beast. "You will need it to get to Moraziel."

"Where will I find it? How good is good?"

"I said I'd give you a clue," snarls the Beast, "not solve all the world's problems for you."

I suppose it's time to move along now. We won't meet the Questing Beast again; a real shame, but we are getting precariously close to the end of our adventure, after all.

Quick reminder of the current maze. En route to the exit to the east, we find...

Apparently not the Guru Mattu, but a guy just like him.

He sits cross-legged on the mountain peak, amid the snow, and takes no apparent notice of you.

Maybe we can say hello, or engage in some general small talk?

Okay, fair enough, he's a holy man. Doesn't have time for chitchat. Perhaps he can spare us his wisdom?

Slowly, his eyes focus on you. He studies you as you speak, and when you finish, he holds out a hand.

Giving him money just makes him mad enough to throw it out into the valley. Giving him the Talisman or our hand, however...

He waves it aside and points to Valterre.

Okay... uh, here's our sword. Didn't the last holy man tell us about our sword?

No shit, but what does that mean?

He utterly ignores you.

You wanna see my sword, huh? Oh I'll show you my sword.

You draw Valterre. Swish -- slice. One dead holy man. He won't talk to you dead, either.

That's just fine by me. Next!

It doesn't look THAT mighty... but it does look kinda wide.

We can wait (Nothing happens for a long time.), but that won't get us anywhere. If the Questing Beast was right, what we need to do is say something.

Really? This is the sort of thing that pops into our character's mind? Ah well. We need to say chuck chuck, stupid as that sounds.

Suddenly, a long neck rises from the waters before you. It reaches higher and higher, toward the sun. And then, a massive body lifts itself from the river bottom. It is a creature unlike any you have ever seen before. It is...

Don't ask how we know it's an apatosaurus if we've never seen one before.

It lowers its head again, and lays it down on the ground, as if inviting you to climb aboard.

This beast has allegedly been trained, so we'll climb onto it and hope for the best.

You scramble up the creature's long neck and sit high up on its back. It wanders out into the river. What now?

Now we say something again. This time, doe doe.

Suddenly and energetically, the apatosaur makes a beeline for the far shore. Once it gets there, it lowers its head once more.

Huh. Well that was surprisingly painless. It'd take a real idiot to screw that whole thing up.

Alternate Solutions & Deaths

We could try just swimming the river, I suppose.

You cannot swim it laden down with arms and armor. Perhaps you can carry the Talisman, but if you are to swim to yonder bank, you must abandon your armor and Valterre here.

Seems like a totally coherent plan that will definitely work.

It did not work. Alright then, let's try the Talisman!

Most Options: This doesn't seem to have much effect.

Earth: You command the earth to rise up from beneath the river, creating a bridge which you may cross. The bridge is made of mud that sucks at your boots, but you begin to stride across the river. The waters roil to the sides. As they build up, they begin to overflow their banks, flooding the countryside. It does not take long before they are lapping at your boots. And then, your fragile mudbank is washed away, and you drown in the roiling river.

Water: You command the waters to part, that you may cross the river. They do. But the path you caused drifts downstrea. The water you commanded is still borne along with the rest of the river. You try to run downstream, keeping pace, but realize you will never be able to cross safely this way.

Cold: You command the river to freeze, that you may cross it. A bridge of ice appears, and you strike out on it. But the waters begin to lap at it, and it begins to melt. Barred by the bridge, the river begins to spill over its banks, flooding the countryside. The waters rise, and lap about your boots. You run for it, but before you can get to safety, your fragile bridge collapses and you are swept to your doom.

Time: Perhaps if the water is frozen in time and you walk quickly across it, you will not have "time" to sink, and will gain yonder bank. Sorry. It doesn't work that way. You step into the river and sink to your ankles. Oh well, it was worth a try.

We can also say different things at the riverbank, other than "chuck chuck."

Most Things: Why would you want to say that? How strange.

Arrgh!: You feel much better now.

Hopa Hopa: Suddenly, you have a fatal heart attack.

No, I have no idea why that one does that.

Once we've summoned the apatosaurus, we can try to kill it.

We can also try to use the Talisman, sort of.

You hold forth the Talisman... and the beast waddles away.

We can also say something again to the apatosaurus before getting aboard. If we say "doe doe" before we're actually on the thing...

With alacrity, the head rises upward once more, and the beast heads toward the yonder shore with determination, proud of its obedience to your instructions. But whatever you say now, you cannot seem to recall it.

Oops. Hey, what happens if we say September?

Suddenly, the apatosaur has a fatal heart attack. You manage to get out of the tumbling body's way just in time. Now, there's no way across.

Huh... go figure. The peasant wasn't lying after all.

Suppose now that we get up on the apatosaur's back and do nothing, or say nonsense three times?

The apatosaur does not seem to respond.

The apatosaur looks back at you in puzzlement.

The apatosaur sighs and takes a mouthful of water weeds.

After a while, the apatosaur loses interest, forgets about you, wanders out into the middle of the river, and submerges. You hold your breath as long as you can, but eventually you expire, dragged down to the river bottom by your heavy arms and armor.

We can also say "chuck chuck" again while in the middle of the river, instead of "doe doe."

The apatosaur lowers its head, as commanded -- into the middle of the river. The back submerges. A wave of water washes you overboard.

Geez, I guess this thing was harder to do than I thought.