Part 19: Update XIX - Well, That Is Not How You Make A Risotto, You Stupid Cow

Update XIX - Well, That Is Not How You Make A Risotto, You Stupid Cow



So, we managed to make it through a cavern completely filled with deathtraps, and we've made it into the castle - presumably.



Pushing the cupboard or whatever it is out of the way, we seem to find ourselves in some sort of storage. Here's a bit of a sampler of the stuff we've got here:

Grain for worse times... has seen better times.

I guess that used to be pickled herring!

Wine! That one should be just right by now.

Slime... matured for five years in an oaken barrel.

Whatever used to be in here is now dried up and stuck to the bottom of the jar.



Why hello there! This is the storage cellar of the castle. Now we have to be careful.
Even more careful?

So we did manage to make it into the right castle. This might not come as a surprise, given that we went through an escape tunnel in reverse, but I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if Wahnfried had the tunnel rerouted into Rabenstein or something like that just in case. Well, then let's just march up that ladder - can't be a smart idea to just waltz right through the castle that's sure to be filled with guards, so of course that's exactly what we do.



Thankfully, the kitchen is only staffed by a few zombies that don't have a clue what's going on.



The exit is down there.

Apparently, finding the exit in this room was such an issue (guess it came up in testing) that a line of dialogue explicitly pointing it out once you get close had to be added.



Damnitdamnitdamnit! What should I do? No salt, no salt, no salt...
What?
WHAT? Oh, please forgive me, master. I'm really confused right now and didn't want to be insulting. I am your most faithful servant!
No problem. Now just take a deep breath... and then tell me what your problem is.
Well, mister grand vizier, it's this: We ordered salt for the feast tonight, but instead we just got this foul smelling fluid!

I don't know why this guy calls Grandy "Herr Großwesir". Of all the variety of noble titles, why this one? Is it a reference?

Could I take a look?
Of course, boss. Here, take a whiff.
I think my toenails just curled up!
Those are smelling salts, without a doubt!
You may be right, sir... but I don't need salt to smell... I need salt to taste!
We'll take that stuff for you, if you want to!
Would you do that, boss? I'll have to bill you the amount we had to pay for this stuff because of the ledger, though.
Depends on what it'll cost us...
Salt isn't cheap, so... 100 bucks for the entire box with ten flasks.



Hmm... a hundred bucks... not sure if we can afford that. So, even though we've already got more than enough of the crap, we buy it anyway, because hey, basically free items.

So, here's another sampler of the stuff we can find exploring the room:

Just useless trash...
Make no mistake, Grandy. I see a Sarabian tea set in the back there...
Well, you can enjoy that once we're done with what we're doing right now.

Virgin blood. Fresh off the tap.

Phew! That cheese certainly isn't middle-aged anymore.
Judging from the smell, I'd go with "prehistoric"...

Bit of a joke here on the fact that "mittelalt" (read: middle-aged), which is a type of age a cheese can have, is directly related to "Mittelalter" (read: the medieval period).

Tomatoes in a can...
Take a closer look, dear. Not everything that is red and comes out of the can has to be tomatoes.

Maggots in jelly!
Make no mistake. It says "in aspic" on there. That's a lot more exquisite.
Exquisite or not, I can live without it...

What a wonderfully stocked kitchen.



Yes, my lord? Please don't hit me, I'm cooking as fast as I can!
Don't worry, I won't hurt you. What's for dinner?
Oh, only the best, just the way master ordered it... blood cream soup with marrow dumplings. A royal stag - raw, of course. Unborn lamb, slightly roasted. And for dessert, pus pancakes.

I think there's some minor puns hidden in here I can't quite spot... one I noticed was that "egg pancakes" in German is "Eierpfannkuchen", which is only one letter away from "Eiterpfannkuchen" - "pus pancakes".

Well, that's just delicious. Aren't any guests here that prefer some lighter fare?
Possible, sir... but master ordered to only cook from one specific cookbook.
I see. And what kind of cookbook has these kinds of... extraordinary dishes?
It's over there on the table, sir.

Let's go and take a look, then.

A cookbook: "A Mess In The Pot" - "Thirteen dishes for a hearty, heated Black Mass"...

The word "brünstig" is used here, which is a derivative of "Brunst", which means "heat", as in the time when female animals are fertile. I don't get it. It rhymes with "zünftig", so maybe that was the intention? Either that, or we're about to get Caligula up in this bitch.

Well, that already gives us a heavy hint for what's going to be going on at this party. That's all for the kitchen so far, so let's wander around some more.



Surprising lack of people in this hallway, but hey, I'm not complaining, there could have been guards. We make our way to the left and in the next door.



OK, so it seems we're in the guest wing or something like that. Let's go talk to people and loot all their stuff, that sounds like a plan.



I wish you a good darkness. How pleasant to meet somebody that seems a bit more cultivated than all the zombies and wolves.
Why, hello there! Aren't you the creature that my old fellow student, the Baron of Badenfels, made from corpse parts and reanimated? His reports sounded like his experiment failed.
If one takes the point of view of the original goal of the experiment, then your information is correct.
And where was the problem?
He wanted to create a brainless aggressive monster that would help him with his evil plans. But he made one mistake: Instead of the brain of a serial killer, he gave me the brain of a barber. But that's all long behind me now. Best we change the subject. For instance, do you have any suggestion regarding any kind of colors I could wear so that my complexion doesn't seem so cheesy?
Sorry, my friend, but we're in a hurry. Just one more thing: What happened to Badenfels?
What do you think? After I realized what he had planned for me, I reported him to the authorities and he was executed.

...well, that's certainly a twist on the old Frankenstein tale. Now, for the looting.



Hands off my stuff!

Oh, somebody actually takes offense. That's a shame. Let's see if we can't convince this guy.



Who are you, and what are you doing in my room?
1) We're lost. 2) We're with the staff. 3) We've got a few questions... 4) Oh, nothing... have fun!

Always with the questions.

May I introduce myself, Rodolfo Okenfels from the Düsterburger Nachtkurier. We're writing an article about this extraordinary social event.
Could we ask you a few questions? You're one of the guests of honor here... major prominence...
Guest of honor? Prominence? Um, yeah, you're just right here, sir Okenfels! How can I help you?
1) Your name, please. 2) What's the reason behind this party? 3) From where do you know the duke? 4) Some information about lycanthropy, please.

A trap question in here - you can't call the guy a guest of honor and then not actually know his name, he'll get pissed if you ask. Instead, we ask the other three:

To honor Malthur, the messenger of the Dark God! There's a prophecy that says that he will appear here tonight.
That's pretty precise for a prophecy...
Well, the Dark God doesn't like it when his prophets aren't precise in formulating their prophecies.

Igelburg. We were sitting in the same cell. We were supposed to be brought before the Inquisitor the next day. I busted us out of there. I was actually pretty keen on a piece of Inquisitorial liver, but I couldn't fathom the thought of spending another night locked up with that living corpse. Nothing against Wahnfried personally, but he's a vampire, and I can't stand vampires, just like every real lycanthrope...

We're getting the impression that there are many different kinds of this... gift. Could you tell us something about that?
Well, indeed, not every wolfman is the same... for instance, there are those amongst us that can change form whenever they wish... there are those that only take this form on a full moon, and then there are those that can never change back again. There are some magical artifacts that allow those cursed creatures to be human for at least a limited time. However, those are extraordinarily rare, and whoever has one usually doesn't give it up.
Sir... um... wolf, thank you for this interview.



And now that we're on the guy's good side...

Just take a look around, sir Okenfels. Maybe you can use it in your article.

And we get four elixirs out of the affair. Pretty good. Now, let's make our way to the next room up top and to the left.



A few points of interest. First off, the books on the table.



Music books...
Could I take a look?
Sure...

...and?
A wonderful composition. And it fits wonderfully with my other songs. I wonder if the composer would have a problem with me taking some notes?
As long as you don't want to take the credit, I'm sure he wouldn't.

And then Tarius learns the Hymn to the Night, one of the most "credit to team" spells in the game. This one improves our defense against dark magic and bloodloss. Those two things are big problems in the game from now on, so pretty much every fight will start with him playing that song.



Oh Christ, this guy. This'll be fun.

What tragedy. What dark-romantic frightplay. I would be inspired, had not sorrow pierced my lonesome heart. Oh, terrible world.
Excuse me, but...
Here too, just sneerers, charlatans and hidden devils. The unlife seems to be curse and blessing.
Is this guy even listening to me?
But I forget myself... I seem to have guests.
Umm... is this guy talking about us?
Say, dear sir, are these your nightly chambers?
Oh bittersweet temptation, the heavens have sent me an angel to torture me. Graceful lady, bless me with your name, and I'd die this hour if I knew it.
This guy is just nuts!
So you can call me Libra. And your name, dear sir?
Libra, you sound so weird all of a sudden.
My name may be Erik, but all about I am called "The Phantom".

So yes, this guy is a take off the Phantom of the Opera, and he talks like a German class' worst nightmare. I'm struggling to keep up - I flunked German in my final exam, and it's exactly because of this highbrow prose.

Libra, you take over... this is getting too highbrow for me.
1) What brings you here? 2) What makes you so sad? 3) Who is your tailor?

Down the line, as usual.

Lady Musica has awoken my heart. I follow the moods of these inhospitable areas as to create dark symphonies of suffering.
So you're a musician? What instrument do you play?
...
I mean: So you are the bandsman of the muses? But of which kind is your play?
All my life I've been a servant of the organ. Her majesty is unrivaled. She is the queen of the massive halls where it is my custom to play.
Well, I didn't get much more than that he likes to play the organ.
And that he seems to get inspired here.
You two aren't that familiar with sophisticated speech, are you? Why have you been so quiet all this time, Dankwart?
I'm in awe with the way you play with words, Libra. To be honest, I was completely entranced in your conversation.
Now don't make me blush.

My body is a temple for the noble notes, but only rarely does a cheerful ballad stir my heart.
He's sad because that sells better?
A bit more empathetic, please.
Say, do you play your own compositions?
Graceful lady, everything else would be theft, am I not right? Am I a fiend like Elric Zahn, who adornes himself with borrowed plumes - including some of mine? The unlife gives enough sorrow for nine symphonies.
I didn't get that one myself. Maybe we should ask something else.

Elton John reference in there? I honestly can't tell.

I understand the words, yet their reason stays hidden to me.

Is the part about the tailor a joke or reference? I'm not familiar with the source material.

Anyway, we can't plunder this guy's chest yet, but we can talk to him again.

Tammtammtamm... yes, one could also play on a fiddle... "Elastic boots, elastic boots, tamtamtamm"... that rhythm isn't bad...
Sir Erik, are you not well?
Pardon me, but my heart was touched by your youthful ardor. Methinks I could also elicit a fine sound from another instrument...
And what is your plan with the elastic boots?
To be truthful... I couldn't think of any other lyrics. But it sounds, my dear, it sounds. "Elastic boots, elastic boots, tamtamtamm"
Well, he seems a lot more happy than before.
Young Libra seems to have fired up his imagination.
It is a pleasure to see you in such a cheerful disposition. Much fortune with your smithing of music.
Fare thee well, young friends. Visit me again if it pleases you. I love to play for an audience.

Well, then let's move on to the next room, right across the hall.



Coffins! We must be in the presence of vampires.



Why hello there! I thought we would only start eating at the feast... are you the appetizers?
Umm... actually, we're invited as well... so please retract your teeth again!
Oh, then please forgive me; I had no idea that Wahnfried also invited regular humans. May I introduce myself? Lothar Löwenhaupt.

AKA Lestat de Lioncourt, from The Vampire Chronicles. Pretty much every character in this area is some sort of reference. Some are basically just the name, some go a bit more indepth (like Erik).

1) We serve the Dark God! 2) We play the music! 3) We're the cleaning crew!

Doesn't really matter what you pick here. We go with 1).

We're a kind of high priest, if you know what I mean.
Oh, so that's how it is. Well, I suppose old Wahnfried doesn't want to take any risks.

And that's that. Option 2) would have Lothar asking if he could perform an aria after we're done playing (as in tune with the character he was based on) and option 3) would have him asking if we minded if he got to drink some of the blood we were supposed to clean up. This will not come into play later.

And, continuing the motif of referencing characters...



Have you been bitten by a wild boar, or why do you dare to interrupt my thinking?
Please forgive us! We didn't want to, sir... sir...
I am Graf von Grolock!

AKA Graf von Krolock from Dance of the Vampires.

Could it be? Graf von Grolock? I'm a great admirer of your textbook on the mating habits of bats.
You know my essay? It took me centuries of research to collect that knowledge.
Oh, one could tell, dear Graf. I always had the impression that the author had to have some... personal experience in the field.
(Dankwart... we don't have all day...)
Umm... however, my friends and I are in a bit of a hurry... we still have to get dressed up for the feast, you know...
I understand. That's going to be endless waiting, I'm sure. Good to know that there's a conversation partner with an actual intellectual level around.

Nothing actually important as far as the game is concerned, just another neat scene. Now, for the last group of guests in this wing...



...we have this somewhat familiar looking group of vampires.



Ah! Good to see that Wahnfried finally sent some of his servants to check on his guests! I have a complaint!
1) What's the problem? 2) Complain somewhere else!

Let's play along for now.

Why didn't I get my own room, or at least one with some younger roommates? You can't hold a decent conversation with these mummies, all they think about is blood or their terrible looks... if they're capable of thinking at all.
1) We'll deal with it... 2) Get yourself together!

Yeah, let's tell him we'll do something about this, then not do a thing. That'll piss him off.

Really? I hope that it'll happen before the feast starts!



Hello, cutie! You look scrumptious. Sadly, Wahnidear prohibited us from nibbling on his warmblooded servants.
"Wahnidear"?
Well, the duke, you know, cutie. You have to know... he and I... well, we used to be VERY close...

Oh man, you just keep learning things about the main villain you never thought you'd learn just from talking to people. This is great.

Good to know. So, are you invited to the feast as well?
Of course, my dear! Weren't you told that? Wahnidear really doesn't have a hand for organizational things...
You're probably right. Well, we've still got things to do. We'll see you at the feast, dearest.
Say, is my makeup put on properly? You have no idea how hard... life... is for a lady without a mirror.
You look ravished, dear.



AAAAHHHH! WARMBLOODERS! Just what I need: A good swig of life juice to get me going!
Wait a second! We're four people and definitely know how to defend ourselves!
PLEASE! I mean no harm! Just a few drops...
Not a chance! Stop it! Back in your dog basket!



EEEEEH?
I didn't say anything...
HE SHOULD BE MADE A KING? NOW, I LIKE WAHNFRIED JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE, BUT THAT MIGHT BE GOING A BIT FAR!
No, sir! I didn't say anything like that, just carry on like before!
YOU WANT TO SEE SOME GORE? WELL, THERE SHOULD BE SOME AT THE PARTY FOR YOU!
I'm sorry, but this is going nowhere. We'll just be disappearing.
UNHEARING? NO, I'M NOT DEAF, JUST A BIT HARD OF HEARING.

This was a nightmare to get somewhat right. The actual lines from grandpa here are completely different (he misunderstands and believes Grandy got gnawed at by some vampires who then sucked him dry), but translating them would kill the joke, and some degree of localization is required here. And you try rhyming something along the gist of "we're leaving now" with "deaf".

Well, these guys are certainly a colorful assortment of characters. Next time, we'll be leaving this wing of the castle. Or at least try to.