Mr. Wickham the Elf Mage (long)

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  • mightbecactus
    Scout
    • Oct 2011
    • 25

    Mr. Wickham the Elf Mage (long)

    So after the success of Maurice Greene I decided that I had to try for an ironman win in Vanilla. For this I've reverted to my favourite and most trusty character the mage and upgraded to 3.3.0. So far I've found it easier than 3.0.9 but I guess the ironman effect balances it out a bit.

    I'm again keeping a diary to keep myself interested in playing him and hopefully not get lazy (which is the easiest path to death in my experience).


    ------------

    Mr. Wickham was the most magically gifted Elf of his small Sindarin tribe. While his brothers perfected their skills with the bow in the forests of middle-earth, Wickham dreamt of one day conjuring great spells and wielding mighty arcane power like the ancient mages of old. He already had learnt how to cast magic missiles, which he had used to best his brothers in the hunt on one occasion at least. He decided that he could not accomplish his lofty goals by waiting around and so resolved to adventure into the pits of Angband to properly learn the craft of magic, perhaps one day to face the Lord of Darkness in a mighty duel should he dare. Taking the small dagger inherited from his father and a spellbook he'd been given called 'Magic for Beginners', he purchased what supplies he could afford from the small town near his home before resting for the night.

    When he awoke the next morning, there was a strange air about the small town. Walking down the main street, Wickham was struck by what seemed a stone silence. A tumbleweed rolled across the road in front of him. He found all the shops were locked. On the door of the magic shop, where the day before he had purchased a spellbook called 'Conjuring and Tricks', he found a note, left by his father. It read:

    "Wickham, word of your intent reached me after you finished your shopping spree. While we will not impede you, I cannot condone what you are doing. Taking such a path into the dungeon, with no bow and no skill is suicide and you are a twit for attempting it. If you descend the stairs you will not be welcome in this place again, but if you return to me now I will pardon you."

    He frowned in thought. His backpack felt heavy on his shoulders. It was laden with food and wooden torches. He'd come this far, why not go further? His fingertips tingled and a strange sense of purpose washed over him. He tore the note from the door and scrunched it into a ball. He then walked over to the stairs and descended into Angband.


    His first impression was that the dungeon was in fact very dirty. He was glad he was at least wearing some leather sandals, but some closed boots would be more proper. He lit a wooden torch and began exploring.

    Wickham was quite pleased to stumble upon a number of creepy crawlies such as centipedes and icky things, which really did not like being slammed from afar with a magic missile. Before long he had honed the technique and had levelled up, learning additional spells from Magic for Beginners.

    On dungeon level 7 he detected a family of spiders nearby and decided to retreat back up the stairs to the previous level. To his horror, he found that his foot would not obey his command and he could not ascend the staircase. Was this some curse from his wounded father? Whatever it was, perhaps it could be undone if he could destroy the dark one and become the master of this dungeon. This grim reality slammed home and Wickham sat for a while contemplating his fate. There was nothing for it. Those spiders, and everything below and beyond them, must die.

    He had recently learned how to blast a column of lightning down a corridor and used this spell with good effect against the spiders. It wasn't long until he had also deciphered the spell 'Frost Bolt'. This was a potent weapon indeed as it did not take much concentration and dished serious damage.

    He was approached by Smeagol and promptly threw a salvo of frost bolts at him. The little wretch eventually died, and dropped some arrows of lightning. Ironic, thought Wickham. If only his brothers were here to enjoy them. On the same level, he found Bullroarer the hobbit sleeping at the end of a long passage. Bullroarer could not withstand multiple shots from the wand of wonder Wickham had found, and died easily.


    Wickham's first serious test came when he detected a horde of Kobolds, being led by Mugash the Kobold Lord. He made just the right amount of noise from a distance, and a small crew of large kobolds were roused and began running the corridors to get to him. Wickham was ready and began unloading his lightning columns in repeated flashes. The kobolds went down, severely owned by the little elven mage, who grinned happily. But suddenly, the tide began to turn. The dead kobolds were replaced with new ones who had heard the commotion, but Wickham was actually now really tired and was finding it impossible to concentrate hard enough to cast his spells. To make matters worse, Mugash was in the corridor!

    Err, run! Wickham turned on his heels and began pounding the dirt. His sandals nearly fell off as he awkwardly lugged his huge backpack in the opposite direction. The kobolds hooped and hollered as they began chasing him down. He could not outrun them. He put down his backpack and opened Conjuring and Tricks. This was one untried trick that had better work. With the last of his mana he gestured at the leading kobold, who immediately fell asleep and fell backward on his companions. The kobolds began shouting and pushing but could not get past in the confusion. Wickham kept running until he was suitably far away and then rested until he was sure his head was clear. From now on he had better plan how he was going to use that mana in advance rather than just go in slinging spells left and right. He now did just this, and with a combination of lightning columns, phase door, sleep monster, and resting, eventually isolated Mugash in a long corridor. Though the kobold managed to hit Wickham a couple of times, he could not withstand triple Frost Bolt from the chilly hands of the elf and went down.


    Though Wickham had learned to plan out his mana the hard way, he soon after fell in to a similar terrifying ordeal by using too much of his concentration too early in combat. He had learned a useful though expensive spell called 'Spear of Light'. Not only did this brighten the place up a bit, but the snagas he had been fighting really hated it. He got in to a scrap with a large block of them, happily flinging stinking clouds and light spears and watching them drop like flies. But again, he was now out of mana! About 8 half dead snagas, moaning in pain having fled in terror from him now turned toward him, angry and with a murderous intent. Wickham cracked open his phasing scrolls, trying to jump into another room where he could not be followed. It didn't work, he simply appeared amongst the little orcish brutes, who were now smelling his blood with glee. He ran again now in the opposite direction, and became cornered in a room and surrounded. He read his last phase scroll and prayed. It mercifully ported him back to the entrance of the room, and they were now all behind him! He ran again, quaffing Cure Serious potions as blows began to rain on him from behind. He finally found mana for Sleep and escaped as the leading snaga fell prone to the gesture. About five minutes later Wickham was recovered. He returned to the hall and destroyed them all.


    Wormtongue, agent of Saruman did not like the idea of an upstart rival sorcerer on his dungeon level and picked a fight with Wickham. This was a mistake as the weasel was crushed with relative ease by repeated frost bolts. Wickham couldn't wait to loot that mangy corpse but found only a Glaive 2d6. He scoffed. What was this wretch doing carrying such a huge weapon that neither of them could use? He left it on the floor, figuring that 19 pounds of weight was not worth whatever resists or otherwise he might have obtained from the weapon at this early stage. On the same level Wickham came across a room full of hill orcs trapped behind a red jelly. He laughed and rubbed his hands in a somewhat evil manner. The orcs started shouting and gesturing at him, but dared not climb over or touch the huge jelly. Making a performance of it, Wickham flamboyantly brandished Magic for Beginners, and then pulled out a small set of reading spectacles. He cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat. The orcs began jumping around like mad things, roaring up the chamber at him in fury. With a tweak of the elven fingers the room was filled with a poisonous gas cloud. The orcs writhed and choked on the stinking fumes, their weapons clanging to the ground. From his safe vantage point a second, third and fourth cloud was conjured until the whole gang suffocated to death, their hairy bodies thumping on to the floor. The red jelly was then easily removed with magic missiles. Wickham made a pistol firing gesture, snapped the little book shut, licked his finger and flattened his eyebrows, and then ambled in and looted the bodies. A nice pair of iron shod boots were his reward, he put them on and tossed his grimy sandals away.
  • mightbecactus
    Scout
    • Oct 2011
    • 25

    #2
    Well I've been distracted this week but did get a bit more dungeon time in. He's still alive but starting to get a bit arrogant...

    --------

    On the next level Wickham detected three large clumps of orcs, one each to the west, north and east. On the west side, Golfimbul was asleep in a big room with his bodyguards. In the north, a band of cave orcs. In the east, it was Lagduf with his retinue. If only there was some way to make them fight each other! He walked north and began attacking the cave orcs. He carefully murdered them all without rousing either of the other two parties. He rested and headed west and began luring and killing Golfimbul's guys. Having lured and killed several of them he retreated to rest, back toward the room that had held the cave orcs . As he sat down he heard a shout and a growl. A snaga had come into the corridor from the east. Surely Lagduf's boys were still asleep!?

    Detect Monster revealed the horrifying truth. The room with the dead cave orcs had spawned a new huge group of snagas. They must have come up from underground after their larger brethren had been eliminated. To make matters much much worse a hill orc from Golfimbul's crew was now heading his way from the west; and the little elf was on about 9 mana. He could not phase as to do so would surely put him in the middle of one of the two gangs with a very low chance of survival. He weighed his options and decided there was only one possible strategy. Ctrl-Q! (nah just kidding). He moved toward the east of the corridor, figuring that the snagas would cram into the corridor and leave space in the spawning room for him to phase in to. He walked right up to the snaga and put him to sleep. His fellows began piling up behind him as planned; each craning their short necks to see what the hold up was. The hill orcs were now closing fast, packing the corridor from the west. He concentrated hard and snapped his fingers at the leading brute, but it resisted the sleep charm. He was now short of mana for any more sleep attempts. He whipped out his wand of confuse monster and prayed - and it worked! The hill orc began walking into the wall and turned and pushed back against his mates, who began slapping him hard. Wickham kept goading the hill orc in the wrong direction while he recovered his concentration. Amidst the growling, slapping and snoring no-one in the corridor but he knew what the heck was going on. He got up to 4 mana just as the hill orc began regaining its senses. He read his second-last phase scroll and landed in roughly the right spot in the snaga room. He fled south, hotly pursued by the snagas who were still looking at each other in puzzlement. Now in a corridor heading south, the first snaga was struck dumb with the increasingly important sleep spell and Wickham made his escape. He returned shortly afterwards fit for duty, and obliterated both groups of orcs, and brought Golfimbul to a frosty end.

    On arrival in the east he found that Lagduf and his poor crew were still asleep (voluntarily) in an open room at the far end of a long corridor. Very few of the gang managed to ever see the source of their death as each was plucked in turn from afar.

    Comment

    • mightbecactus
      Scout
      • Oct 2011
      • 25

      #3
      Here is some more of Mr Wickham. He remains alive, kicking and cocky as ever but is now getting desperate for a copy of Incantations and Illusions.

      -----------

      Wickham continued to descend and managed to exterminate several more tribes of orcs and their unique leaders, but was beginning to get impatient as they continually dropped large weapons like glaives and maces. He did not want to lug these around and could not identify them without swinging them at enemies (which was very dangerous as he was terrible at melee). He felt ready to learn perhaps 20 more spells but had no books to study. In fact, he was down to only a single copy of Conjuring and Tricks, which if destroyed would surely mean disaster for him. He was attacked on level 19 by Nar, the Dwarf and managed to win by resorting to his quiver of lightning arrows as the little fellow was not bothered by frost bolt. His luck continued as Nar dropped a large unidentifiable weapon.

      On the same level a pack of dark hounds began hunting him. He was fairly sure these were not particularly dangerous and so began engaging them with magic missiles. Disaster struck as two of the hounds breathed, blinding him temporarily. His brothers were used to hunting in the dark and a more physical hero would have been probably quite happy to swing a weapon at the pack in blindness. Not so for Wickham. Without being able to see, he could not cast any spells or read any scrolls. He began to panic and hurriedly groped through his backpack for a solution to the problem. He felt a savage bite on his leg and darkness again was engulfing him. His fingers found a triplet of stinking cloud wands. He nearly dropped them as he wrenched them from his backpack, and then began waving them, his nimble hands reliably firing cloud after cloud at the cluster of hounds that had filled the corridor. Yelps of pain ensued and eventually the pack broke away, leaving the elf to recover. He managed to then kill the remaining hounds by stealth and indirect stinking clouds cast from Magic for Beginners. Phew!


      On the next level he detected a well isolated room full of orcs, led by a large one called Gorbag. Accompanying them were a pack of dark hounds. He could picture himself being blinded and then beaten to death within seconds in that pit, but those black orcs might just be carrying something he could use. He began his approach, aided by a scroll of magic mapping he'd found. Gorbag woke at once and sprinted around the network of corridors toward him. Wickham detected this with glee and withdrew to a safer distance. As Gorbag rounded the corner, Wickham had frost bolt ready to go from about 30 paces. He decided "hmm I might do a quick detect first". Around the corner, two steps behind Gorbag was his very own pet dark hound. Oh dear. One breath and he would be as good as dead (where were all the staves of teleport self?). He weighed his choices. To begin firing at Gorbag would be probable suicide, as he would soon be blind and firing his precious lightning arrows in the dark as the brute began bludgeoning him. To phase now could put him next to Gorbag right away - not good. To teleport self could of course easily pop him into the middle of the pit and that would mean absolute and certain death.

      He legged it. Running as fast as he could (at Slow -2) he rounded the corner, and - what's this - he could still see! He continued; he could see the next chamber opening out ahead of him. He bombed down the corridor, lungs bursting, but now Gorbag was finally caught up. As the axe came down he phased into the chamber and detected. The hound had not followed! Wickham pumped his fists and shouted "Boo-yah!". The grizzly Gorbag was a bit taken aback by this, he'd never seen a skinny celebrate their moment of certain death before. "Now then, big fella!" shouted Wickham as his hands began to freeze over.

      Before long the dungeon was filled with orc and hound corpses. An interesting whip that seemed to make him feel a bit stronger when wielded was his only reward. "Gah! Where are all the spellbooks?!!" he cried to nobody in particular.

      Comment

      • mightbecactus
        Scout
        • Oct 2011
        • 25

        #4
        Well I played almost no Angband over the holiday period and picked up again with Wicky last night. I will save commentary to the end.

        -----------

        Wickham dived down to dungeon level 22, having secured immunity to paralysis via a nice set of gloves some time ago. He was still very concerned about his inability to see invisible creatures and his susceptibility to blindness but there was simply no choice as the dungeon refused to yield him the equipment he needed to address these issues. At least he couldn't be paralysed. He came across yet one more horde of orcs on his way down, led by Golfimbul, who somehow had risen from the dead and needed to be shot with lightning arrows due to his resistance to cold (turns out the guy Wickham had killed some time ago was actually Grishnak).

        On dlevel 24 Wickham detected a mob of elite orcs, led by Azog the High King. Though he was still at -2 speed, he had one potion of speed and decided that he would risk an attempt to kill the brute. Having murdered most of the orc captain bodyguards, Wickham crept closer and closer, detecting obsessively until Azog was awake and - moving! Wow this guy was quick. He chugged his speed potion and ran back toward a large empty room he intended to make use of in the battle. He could hear the clang of heavy steel armour behind him, and felt that below it he could sense a huge, powerful orcish body. Now in the center of the hallroom he turned to face as his speed buff ran out. Azog tromped into the room and leapt at the little elf. The first frost bolt made almost no impact and he was now face to face with the big guy. He let out a little shriek and phased to the other side of the room - but reappearing, discovered that the armoured orc had already made up most of the ground. Wickham's face winced in anticipation of what would likely be a nasty fight. Several rounds of battle ensued in patterns of phase - frost bolt - repeat, and Wickham was now in relatively good shape, having only been hit once by the brute (and having gulped a cure critical potion) and had brought his opponent down to about 60% life.

        However, he then made the first mistake of the battle; he emerged from a phase only a couple of paces from Azog, and cast another frost bolt. Azog happily took the damage and pounced, slashing his weapons wih cruel precision. Wickham dropped to 80 hit points and then made his second mistake. Clutching Magic for Beginners with the monster towering above him ready to deliver a fatal flurry, he gestured to phase; and failed the spell. Azog then performed a dreaded double move. All Wickham could do was raise his nimble arms and dodge as best he could (press space bar) as blows began to rain in a terrifying salvo. As the orcish king paused and Wickham finally had time to do something, he was on exactly one (that's ONE) hit point.

        He was practically dead. Blood filled his vision and seeped from his leather armour as his head swam in delerium. Though he knew he had lost and would almost surely die, with the last of his strength he cracked a teleportation scroll. He landed in a quiet room with a zombie kobold; but the creature was mercifully several paces from him. With mana to spare it was brought low with magic missiles and Wickham was able to rest until healed.


        There was no time to pause for thought as his mind raced. He faced an interesting dilemma. Should he continue the battle? He detected that Azog had only healed to about 70% and was still isolated from his remaining bodyguards. He knew deep down that the right answer was to flee; but then he considered that his only path of escape was deeper into the dungeon - where even deadlier opponents lurked. He wasn't even really thinking straight (part of him wondered if he was in fact dead and haunting the corridors he died in).

        He went for it. The combat resumed and, though he had to teleport a second time to be safe (a move in which he again got lucky and landed in the empty dead-zombie-kobold room), he eventually managed to wound the great orc with enough frost bolts for it to turn and flee in anger and panic, in the direction away from the bodyguards. With its back now turned to the elf, the orc had no chance and finally collapsed from a final frost bolt to the dome.

        Of course the looting process yielded two massive high quality weapons that Wickham could barely lift. He swore and hefted his backpack, but as he rose from the hulking corpse his mind finally relaxed from its adrenaline fueled state and he fell in to a pale kind of stupor, and now cowered in the gentle draught gusting through the chamber. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he couldn't help but feel that he'd somehow just cheated Death. With a crawling sense he perceived his life from here as a borrowed thing, to be handed back to it's owner whenever it came knocking to collect on the debt he had drawn. The hair on his neck bristled and he shivered in the darkness.


        ------------------

        This I guess is what I get for diving headfirst in to a big fight while 'cold'. I suppose you forget your guy's weaknesses, forget what's in his backpack, his activations etc and fall out of the 'zone' if you haven't played him for ages. I kind of feel like Wickham practically DID die, it was just a pure fluke followed by a lucky teleport (and then another - although he had a decent 70 odd hp on the second one) that spared him. On the other hand, I've had plenty of characters get unlucky and just barely die over the years, and I'm sure few ironman games are won without a bit of luck on the way.

        As an incidental, looking back I'm not sure what I should have done emerging two squares from Azog. If you emerge one square away, you phase again, emerge three squares away, cast a frost bolt, but two squares? Neither phase or frost bolt are very appealing (phase could land you next to him, fb will let him hit you). Maybe take one step back allowing him to come adjacent and then phase (alas I don't think things through in this level of detail when out of practice).

        Comment

        • Estie
          Veteran
          • Apr 2008
          • 2343

          #5
          Yes taking 1 step back is the thing to do.
          Good read btw

          Comment

          • mightbecactus
            Scout
            • Oct 2011
            • 25

            #6
            Yeah - I will remember that next time I hope . Well a fair bit more has happened over the weekend.


            -------------

            On the other side of the same fateful level Wickham's scroll of magic mapping revealed a small structured room surrounded by what appeared to be permanent rock that would not yield to his wand of stone-to-mud except in a few places. Inside one of the four chambers, he detected the presence of a somehow bonded pair of powerful sorceror warriors. He couldn't be sure if these foes could resist cold, but sensed that they were not as fast or as powerful as Azog, and so reasoned that he would be a match for them. He managed to engineer a firing point from a distance and used his trusty wand of stone-to-mud to release them from their stony bastion.

            "Angamaite, we have company!" growled a heavy voice as a large robed figure now emerged into the corridor.

            "Well then my dear brother Sangahyando, who might not be my brother, but probably is given the information that we have on record regarding our ancestry" said another equally gruff voice, "perhaps you better make him welcome!"

            Sangahyando grinned and gestured menacingly at Wickham, who suddenly felt a sapping force taking over his limbs. He battled within and finally wrested back a full control of his body. Sangahyando's grin went sour and he drew his sword and advanced at Wicky, who in a military drill now honed to perfection, unloaded his first frost bolt. Sangahyando caught the bolt just above the guts and grunted.

            "Phew!" shouted Wickham in an attempt to sound brave; "You don't like it chilly do you?". Angamaite emerged from the bastion behind his mate and Wickham felt a doubling in the aura of dominance now radiating down the corridor. He almost hesitated as he realised now he was in for a serious battle, and two against one was never ideal for the one. He snapped back to his drill. Razor shards of superchilled ice careened down the corridor and Sangahyando felt the full brunt. But the pair reacted quickly, and by focussing their minds in repeated barrages, finally crashed through Wickham's formidable mental defences.

            Wickham dropped his spellbook and started swatting the air in front of him. He frowned - what had happened? Something bad. He was confused, anyway - at least he knew that. Through blurry vision he could see two large men charging toward him. Funny - they almost look like brothers! He remembered a stash of curing potions he'd been keeping and decided to chugg one.

            He snapped to and the dance continued until finally, Sangahyando had caught up to him. Though he was bleeding and sore from the punishment of the frost bolts, he was ready to chop this little elf into pieces. Wickham phased and emerged in a large hall just on the other side of the wall. He manoevered toward the entrance, knowing that his movements would draw his enemies around the corridors toward him. Angamaite appeared first, shielding his wounded companion, and the fight continued. Wickham continued to quaff curing potions as the robed figures managed to confuse him, but all attempts to slow his movement were repelled by the fiesty mind of the little mage.

            Wickham eventually caught line of sight to Sangahyando and managed to deliver a fatal frost bolt. The robed warrior crumpled to the floor with a thud behind his ally. Angamaite bellowed in anger, and now rushed furiously at the elf with his weapon raised. But one-on-one he had no hope of overcoming the mage, who began phasing before calmly delivering a complementary death to the second companion.

            The 'vault' - if he could call it that - had a number of armours and weapons which as usual could not be identified, and what's this? A spell book! Could it be?! He 'l'ooked at it and... it was... 'Resistances to Scarabtaracies'. What the hell? "Never heard of it" he declared to the orc corpses he'd killed earlier. The book had five spells, three of which he could decipher, all granting resistances to the elements. "Oh well" he thought, "Better than a kick in the pants but man I'd love to be able to identify stuff".


            He decided that with the dungeon level littered with loot it made sense to rest for a while. Perhaps more foes would come up from the depths to avenge these deaths, and bring with them the tools he needed to identify the booty. He awoke several hours later and emerged from his hiding place in the vault. Rubbing his eyes, he was suddenly aware that the level was again teeming with gribblies.

            In the large chamber in the centre of the level, Boldor the King of all Yeeks was dining with a huge retinue of yeeks, including rather a lot of master yeeks. Wickham began flinging stinking clouds and frost bolts into the room from a distance and had soon caused a major disruption to the party. The masters however began phasing and Wickham soon found himself surrounded. With half the crowd dead, he decided to teleport self and attack again from a distance.

            He landed in the north-west corner and detected another huge crowd. But these guys were not dining. Bolg, son of Azog had come to the dungeon, armed to the teeth and surrounded by perhaps 50 brutish gang members to bring severe pain down on the one who had killed his father. The corridors in the north west were however very well configured for a lure-kill strategy, and Wickham now began picking off the gang in convenient groups of five or six. A black orc even dropped a potion of speed. "Excellent!" Wickham declared. Eventually, he lured Bolg out, and at +8 speed for most of the fight, was able to phase-frost bolt the plucky orc to death without suffering a blow in return.

            The level had also filled up with an array of hounds. Included among these were air hounds. He decided to try his newly learned 'Resist Poison' spell and have a fight with them. This turned out to work really well as the otherwise scary breath blasts blew past him without hurting much at all. He then murdered Boldor from close quarters after learning the hard way that he was a good summoner.

            Things were starting to look rather good. One of the orcs had left a pile of 6 ID scrolls, and he used these to answer the most pressing questions in his backpack. Left over were an array of armours and weapons which he now heaved over to the staircase. Dumping the loot on the next level, he began exploring. In the corner of a large room there appeared to be... a spellbook. He froze. Could it be? Dare he dare to believe in the possibility? He commanded himself to 'l'ook and see and it was... Incantations and Illusions! "OH FRABJOUS DAY!!!" he shouted in euphoria. Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks as he sank to his knees in a giddy kind of soft slow motion. A triumphant operatic music theme began blaring in his mind.

            He got up and wiped his face, pumped his fists and then moonwalked over to the book and whipped out his spectacles. Yes.... as he browsed the pages his eyes began to light up. "This is the stuff! I knew it!" he cried. He carefully studied all the spells in the book and then set about practicing. There were five really important spells in here and he couldn't wait to make use of them; "Satisfy Hunger, Turn Stone to Mud, Identify, Fire Bolt and Acid Bolt" he read aloud.

            It turned out that Fire Bolt required the same concentration but was a bit more powerful than Frost Bolt, but it scalded his fingers slightly and so he resolved that good old Frost would still have a place in his tactics. Acid Bolt was a substantial upgrade however, and his hapless test subjects suffered nasty trauma from it. He happily dumped all but a few of his satisfy hunger scrolls and went back to the loot pile.

            Most of the items he'd brought down from upstairs were uninteresting, except for two short bows. He ID'd the first as a bow of power with +23 damage. "Oh - nice one!" He dropped his old bow and began practicing with it. Then he ID'd the other bow. Uhh... hang on! The spell resolved and his mind was shown the mighty elvish brothers Amrod and Amras, like and unlike as they were. This was THE bow of Amras! He hooped and hollered. This weapon was truly welcome and wielding it, he felt a spring in his step. If only his brothers could see him now!

            Comment

            • mightbecactus
              Scout
              • Oct 2011
              • 25

              #7
              Wicky descended through about three more levels on his way down to dlevel 30. He encountered a number of invisible things touching him and wailing at him but thankfully had managed to learn the advanced spell 'Reveal Monster' which for a brief moment revealed these ghosts and allowed him to slam an acid bolt in their insubstantial backsides. Before long he had found yet another spellbook. "Can I get any luckier?!" he cried. He had gotten into the habit of talking out loud even though he knew it was the first sign of madness. The tome was entitled 'Sorcery and Evocations'. Inside it contained a truly mind bending augmentation to his arsenal include elemental balls and haste self. In the same room was a handy suit of blue dragon armour that he snapped on over his torso in place of his old studded leather. "Ok, so surely that's as lucky as one little elf can get" he stated firmly to the cold stone walls. He happily plodded onward, spinning his beautiful short bow around his body in an attempt to replicate some kind of ninja routine. Every now and then he was distracted by dungeon dwellers and had to fling acid and fire bolts around, pausing to ID anything on their corpses, and to pick up the bow of Amras, which he kept dropping. Life was starting to feel pretty darn good.


              He entered a small dead-end room, whistling loudly as he he cast 'mad' to light it up. In the corner were a pair of boots. "Hey!" he chuckled as he ambled over with Identify ready to roll. He dropped the spellbook. Jaw agape, his mind perceived that these were boots... of speed! In a mixture of terror and ecstacy he pulled them on. +9!!! He began sprinting around the little room in circles. "Hahahaha!!" he was beginning to go delerious with glee.


              He eventually got hold of himself and began exploring the rest of the dungeon. He was approached by Ugluk the Uruk, and laughed as the smelly brute seemed to move like a tortoise. "Haha!" he cried as he easily dodged out of Ugluk's reach before slamming him with acid bolts to the death. Ibun, son of Mim received a similar reception. "Is that seriously as fast as you're going to fight?!" he boasted as Ibun took a fatal acid bolt to the torso and crashed fizzing and burning to the floor in glorious high definition slow motion.


              --------------------


              I have never in 13 years of playing Angband ever found boots of speed, let alone ones that give +9. As I've said above and in another thread, I've found that 3.3.0 seems to be pretty easy compared to 3.0.9 - but does this type of drop happen more often now? Or is this quite truly the most insane drop I will ever get in my Angband career?

              Comment

              • ghengiz
                Adept
                • Nov 2011
                • 178

                #8
                Indeed, IIRC, I read somewhere on this forum (in the poll on which angband version is best, I suppose) that Timo thinks angband got a lot easier in 3.2 (in particular on the artifact drops), and 3.3 is a bit better...so your niiiice drops can be a consequence of this.

                A well-written and fascinating adventure...please keep up the good work

                edit:
                I found the post I was referreng to regarding too many drops. It was Magnate, not Timo, and in another thread...sorry, my memory seems a bit faulty today

                Originally posted by Magnate
                Yes, this has been the devteam view for a while now. You are ahead of us on analysing your stats, but we agree that too many artifacts are generated at the moment.
                Last edited by ghengiz; January 30, 2012, 08:44.

                Comment

                • mightbecactus
                  Scout
                  • Oct 2011
                  • 25

                  #9
                  Thanks ghengiz, that's interesting reading.

                  There's heaps I really like about the newer version, particularly changes which seem to have removed the most annoying aspects of the old game (amulet of inertia for example). But it does feel like these little perks, in addition to the seemingly increased drop rates have all added up to a noticably 'easier' experience overall.

                  On a side note I realise that my assessment of the difficulty from here down (assuming he survives) will be biased now because of the boots... (not that I'm complaining about finding them ).

                  Comment

                  • sethos
                    Apprentice
                    • Oct 2011
                    • 77

                    #10
                    Wickam likely went SQUEEE and got all bug eyed when He ID'ed those boots.

                    That's a very nice find - here's hoping they don't get acid toasted too badly in the meantime.

                    Maybe, Just maybe, I'll try a mage one day.
                    You should save my signature. It might be worth something someday.

                    Comment

                    • mightbecactus
                      Scout
                      • Oct 2011
                      • 25

                      #11
                      Indeed! Hopefully his double resist and +19 hasted-self speed will be enough to keep the boots out of harm's way. Probably the biggest risk now will be diving too hard and getting lazy to die from an offscreen... ooo let's say, shards breath. Those 160 hit points won't go far...

                      Yes I always found the mage to be quite fun. I think it's because they tend to undergo more extreme experiences than the other classes - ie more of being either completely unstoppable or cowering in panic, not so much in between. It's especially fun when it changes from one to the other mid-combat, which has happened to this guy a few times

                      Comment

                      • sethos
                        Apprentice
                        • Oct 2011
                        • 77

                        #12
                        Yeah - That's probably why I tend to play warriors nearly exclusively - You just go in and hit things, and if it goes south - you leave. the only issues is generally having enough consumables to stay competitive sometimes.

                        I STILL tend to mash buttons (though sil is slowing me down a bit...), and so the warrior seems to be the most forgiving (i.e. Has enough HP to munch a few wanton kesystrokes.)

                        oh well- Good luck, Wickham.
                        You should save my signature. It might be worth something someday.

                        Comment

                        • CliffStamp
                          Apprentice
                          • Apr 2012
                          • 64

                          #13
                          Originally posted by mightbecactus

                          On a side note I realise that my assessment of the difficulty from here down (assuming he survives) will be biased now because of the boots... (not that I'm complaining about finding them ).

                          Is this guy still bolting his way to the bottom?

                          Comment

                          • mightbecactus
                            Scout
                            • Oct 2011
                            • 25

                            #14
                            Hey Cliff,

                            Wickham is alive and well but has been temporarily spellbound due to events outside his control. Somewhere in the cosmos of Ea someone became addicted to Skyrim after getting it for his birthday, and shortly afterward his wife gave birth to a baby girl that vastly prefers to be held rather than watch me play on my laptop...

                            But the temporal distortion is beginning to crumble and he should be back to his old tricks soon!

                            mbc

                            Comment

                            • Timo Pietilä
                              Prophet
                              • Apr 2007
                              • 4096

                              #15
                              Originally posted by mightbecactus
                              Hey Cliff,

                              Wickham is alive and well but has been temporarily spellbound due to events outside his control. Somewhere in the cosmos of Ea someone became addicted to Skyrim after getting it for his birthday, and shortly afterward his wife gave birth to a baby girl that vastly prefers to be held rather than watch me play on my laptop...

                              But the temporal distortion is beginning to crumble and he should be back to his old tricks soon!
                              Like in 18 years or after the offspring moves to her own house whichever comes first?

                              Comment

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