Part 56: Exploring the Countryside

Chapter 9: Exploring the Countryside


Habari, bwana.
Mzuri…Mngoje, was it?
Yes, I am he who waits and watches. I be watching over our village while the sun is in the sky.
A young man was telling me earlier that this village is only temporary. It looks fairly well constructed for all that, if you ask me.
Asante, warrior. This be the place where our tribe makes a home during the dry season.
“Season?” You mean it’s not just an endless dry grassland year round?
Now where be the water to make the grass grow? No, this season is Kusi, when the south wind blows, and we live at the edge of the jungle. Soon it will be Mvuli, the season of the little rain. We will be moving our village and our cattle to the west when that season comes. Next is Msimu, when the sun is in the south and the north wind blows. It be very hot then, and we move to the mountains. Last will come Masika, the time of the big rain. Then we will be moving to the high savanna to the north. Thus we be traveling for Mwaka, the turning of the seasons, and come back to here.
I’d probably go crazy having to move around all the time. I can hardly believe there’s so much space in the savanna to be moving around like that.
The savanna is all around us. From the edge of the jungle, to the edge of the mountains, to the edge of the world, here we Simbani make our home.
“Edge of the world?” Now you really are pulling my leg.
I am sorry, what do you mean with your leg?
Never mind. Kwa heri, Mngoje.
Kwa heri.



I skipped over a couple battles during the run to the venomous vines, but now seems like a good time to go over the random things you’ll encounter in the savanna.


The Chase

It’s hard to tell when they come in from below, but this fellow here is the savanna’s own giant ant. Let’s see what the Field Guide has to say about them:


Battle part 1

With the switch back to VGA, the interface returns to that used in QfG1’s remake, and with the change to a wizard character, the mage’s screen becomes the first one that appears upon entering combat. With two more battle spells than 1 had, two more buttons had to be added, with this game’s spell grayed out until it gets found later. The flaming dagger is Zap, the tiny fire is Flame Dart, the lightning bolt is Force Bolt (for some reason), the starburst is Dazzle, the dude running away is, well, guess, and the button in the middle switches to the fighting menu.


Here, the standard actions from before appear. Stab, swing, dodge left, dodge right, and block if you’ve got it. There is this one thing, though. Wanna know a secret?


Click once on an empty space in the combat menu, then don’t touch anything. If you do so, then the hero will not get hit. Ever. He can still auto-dodge, which will reset his position, but you can just click again and then just stare at the screen as nothing happens. Now, while this would have been completely pointless in previous games, in Quest for Glory 3, the hero’s stamina slowly refills during combat, making this dodge an excellent way to regain it, or at least to prove to your friends who don’t know about it how awesome you are or something.

Now that I’ve killed this ant, maybe I can finally find out what this “Dancing Lights” spell does.



God damn it, Keapon.


Something else to note is that your dotted line resets every time you get interrupted.



The savanna is not very diverse, and we have now seen two thirds of the monsters it has to offer. This croc here is also the only humanoid you’ll ever encounter in the plains.


…Which also means that they’re the only ones out here that carry spare change. Crocs will usually carry around 1-5 royals, which isn’t that great overall, but is still a reasonable amount of money.


Pool of Peace

*As you approach this pool of bubbling water, you feel a sense of serenity and peace.*

Ah, a nice, quiet corner of the savanna. This must be the Pool of Peace Salim was talking about. I wonder how the water tastes.


*You drink from the cold, clear water. It has a slightly sweet taste, and tingles in your mouth.*

You can drink directly from the water here or from filled waterskins while you’re running around elsewhere. In either case, the water will restore your stamina completely. That’s right, there may not be any vigor pills in this game, but Peace water acts the same way. Plus, beyond the initial investment in waterskins, it’s completely free and renewable. Oh, and the pool itself is a safe place to sleep (big surprise there).

I wonder who's responsible for putting this random place of safety in the savanna?


*Detect*


A rune! Hmm. My memory's a little fuzzy on which rune means which, but I believe that one means "Peace." Not terribly inventive. Funny, though, it kind of looks like an "E." I wonder if that's intentional, like an initial or something? Nah. Couldn't be her.


I’d better head back, it’s getting late.


Hujambo, bwana.
You’re not Mngoje, are you? It’s hard to tell when it’s this dark.
No. I be called Usiku, the night one. I be the one who watches over our village while the stars light the heavens.
Is the savanna very dangerous at night?
Not any more than it is in the day. The savanna fattens our cattle with the grass and is our home, but it hides the hunters who wish to fatten on our cattle.
What kind of hunters?
There be many hunters in the savanna. Of them all, those that walk on two legs are the most dangerous. The people of the fisi, the hyenamen, run in packs and never attack unless they outnumber their prey. If you can hurt the hyenamen without being hurt, they may be running away [No hyenamen appear in the game, and the ones in Shapeir were jackals, so it sounds like this was a cut monster]. The mamba people, those who be called Crocs, be strong and brave. They be slow, though. Most dangerous of all be the horned hunter, the dinosaur. He be plenty tough, and eat a man alive, that one. There be other hunters, but these are the makers of heroes. The savanna can be very dangerous, so may you have good luck, and outlive all hunters.
Thank you. Good evening, Usiku.


I wonder if Uhura is sleeping yet?


Uhura’s Hut

Habari, Uhura.
Mzuri, Nike. How do you be liking our village? It be not large, for it holds but a few families this time of year. Next season we move to a larger village and more families will be joining us.
I’ve been in smaller towns back up north, believe me. So who takes care of the tyke while you’re on wall duty, anyway?
My sister.
You have a sister?
Yes. My sister Nyasha is newly wedded and longs for a baby. Simba be very good lesson to her.
Oh?
Very good. The village wall be keeping the dangerous animals away, but it also be keeping the children from running too far. My sister say she be chasing Simba most every day, so the fence be a very good thing.
I can definitely see that, _{the little showoff.} So how was your day, Uhura?
Mzuri, sultan’s son. Today we be driving off the lions from the cattle. It be a good battle, no Simbani hurt, and the lions not be back soon.
How about the lions? Did they get off that well?
The Simbani be the people of the lion, and mostly we be leaving lions alone. We show them who be boss, and they not be bothering our cattle. Many warriors stand together with spears, jumping and yelling at the lions. Lions mostly not like loud noises and people calling them names. They slink off, ashamed of being made fools. One young male too full of pride try to attack the warriors. He learn fast that shields be hard on the teeth and spears can bite, too. Soon he be running off.
I see. Absolutely scintillating. Well, I’m off.
Goodnight, Nike.



*You find some food the Simbani have left for you. It looks odd, and it tastes strange, but it fills your belly.*


The storyteller appears here on the third day after arriving at the Simbani village, or Day 6 overall.

Greet—Habari, bwana. And whom, might I ask, are you?
Welcome, Prince Nike. It be not often the Simbani have such a guest. I be the storyteller of the Simbani. I will be most interested in learning more about you and your adventures. I am certain they will make an interesting story.
Pardon my asking, but do you not have a Simbani name beyond “storyteller?” It sounds as though all your names have a direct meaning, which is why I enquire as to yours.
It be indeed an honor to deal with one so polite and knowledgeable in the customs of other peoples. But do not worry yourself too much with my Simbani name; calling me “storyteller” be more than enough.
As you wish. So, what about these stories?
Stories be many things. Stories be lies. Stories be truths. Stories be quests. Stories be ways of looking at the world with different eyes. I have a story for you, if you wish to hear it. It be the story of a magic drum.
Does it have anything to do with the one the Laibon is keeping in his tent?
Maybe. I give you the story.

There once was a people.
A proud people.
A peaceful people.
A people who had no enemy.
Then one night, a thief stole into their village and stole their magic spear.
Now the people have an enemy.
Now the people can have no peace.
But who be this enemy? Who be the thief who stole the magic spear? That is not known.
Then the next day, a warrior was found in front of the village of these people. That warrior was dying.
That warrior have in his hand a magic drum.
That warrior have on his lips a name. That name be Leopardman.
And the warrior, he die.
These be the questions of the story: Why did the warrior have the magic drum? Why did the warrior say, “Leopardman?” Why did the warrior die?
I have given you this story. Now the questions are yours to do with what you will.

That’s not a very satisfying story. _{I suppose it explains where the drum came from, at least.}
A lot of stories be not satisfying. A lot of stories be not ending. Do you wish to hear the story about the warrior woman?
I’ve already heard Uhura tell her story, but go ahead, tell me your version.
I give you this story.

There once was a warrior
A mighty warrior.
A proud warrior.
A warrior who was also a woman.
Now this warrior who was a woman wanted to have a baby.
A baby must have a father.
A father must have a wife.
A wife cannot be a warrior.
This be the way of the warrior woman’s people.
So the warrior woman leave her people. She travel very far. She travel where a warrior can be a wife.
The people miss this warrior woman.
The people miss her strength.
The people miss her courage.
The people miss her words.
Then, one day, the warrior woman come back. At her side is a small child. Yet the woman is still a warrior.
Will the people learn that a warrior woman can be a wife? Will the people learn that a warrior woman be still a woman? Will the people learn that it be wrong to call a person one thing or another, but not both?
I have given you this story. Now the questions are yours to do with what you will.

Couldn’t you say more than me?
If I had the answers, then there would be no questions. If there be no questions, then there would be no stories. A storyteller must open the mind and the heart of the listener. A storyteller knows no answers, only questions. Do you wish to hear a new story?
Do I have a choice?
We all have a choice. If I choose to tell my story to a mind that does not open, then I be not a storyteller at all.
Alright, fine. Go ahead.
Good. I give you this story.

Once there was a boy who could do magic.
The people of his village did not believe in magic.
The people of his village did not trust magic.
The people of his village did not want the boy around.
So the boy with the magic left the village.
One day, a terrible monster came to the village.
This monster was big.
This monster was magic.
No warrior could defeat this monster.
The boy with the magic came back to the village.
The boy with the magic fought with the terrible monster.
The terrible monster fought with the boy.
The boy used his magic against the monster.
The monster used his magic against the boy.
The boy defeated the monster. The monster died.
The monster defeated the boy. The boy died.
Will the village now believe in magic? Will the village learn that magic can be good? Will the village now mourn the boy they sent away?
I have given you this story. Now the questions are yours to do with what you will.

I can kind of relate to that. Hopefully not the “returning and dying” part, though.

Hey, kids! If you thought to yourself just now, “Gee whiz, that last story sounded awfully like it would change based on the class!” then guess what!



I give you this story.

Once there was a thief.
This thief was a skilled thief.
This thief could hide so that no man could see him.
This thief could sneak so that no man could hear him.
This thief lived in a village.
It was a quiet village.
It was a peaceful village.
It was a village where everyone was a friend to the other.
Then, one day, the thief decided to steal from his own village.
The thief sneaked into someone’s hut and stole something.
The thief was so quiet, that no one could hear.
The thief was so sly that no one could tell he was the thief.
Now the village be not a quiet village, for everyone accuses the other of being a thief.
Now the village be not a peaceful village, for everyone thinks another is the thief.
Now the people of the village have no friends, for every man may be an enemy.
Did the thief gain something by stealing or did he lose?
I have given you this story. Now the questions are yours to do with what you will.

In my case, it was more that everyone knew it was me, so only I became the enemy and got run out of town. Oh crap, I shouldn’t have said anything, should I?
I only tell the stories I know, and it is up to the listener to answer the questions I give.



I give you this story.

Once there were two boys. They be good friends. They both wish to be warriors.
Each day, they be practicing the way of the warrior together.
Each day, they be working on their skills together.
Each day, they get better and better.
Then one day, a pretty woman come to their village.
Both boys liked this pretty woman.
Both boys wanted this pretty woman for a wife.
Now the boys were no longer friends.
Came the day of initiation of the boys.
Both boys tried very hard to beat the other boy.
Both boys tried very hard to make the other boy lose.
Now the boys stand on the wrestling bridge. The one boy makes the other boy fall. That boy lands wrong. That boy is dead.
One boy be now a warrior.
One boy be dead.
The pretty woman marry someone else. The warrior now has no friends.
Who won the initiation contest and who lost?
I have given you this story. Now the questions are yours to do with what you will.

Poor Al.