GreekQuest

by Herbie Brennan

  If it isn’t Arthur, then maybe Achilles wins at 31 or neither wins at 64, or both win at 54.

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  47

  “Here, that’s not on!” calls one of the workers in the field. “That was supposed to have been a friendly fight and you’ve been and gone and killed him!”

  At which all the workers begin to move menacingly towards you.

  There are five of them altogether, all armed with farm implements capable of doing you +2 damage. None of them is particularly healthy - you can take the average Life Points to be just 15 - but they’ll all pile in at once and do their level best to kill you.

  You’re welcome to take on this mass of angry rustics if you wish. Should they kill you, go to 13. Should you dispatch all five of them, turn to 25 But another possibility is to run blindly, shrieking and screaming in panic, in which case you’ll end up at 61

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  48

  You can see more of the dreaded dappled sunlight as you approach, but before it becomes all too, too depressing, the sound of voices reaches you across the balmy air.

  There are definitely more than one and they sound female. They also sound as if they’re arguing.

  Do you really want to get involved in this? There’s nothing worse than being caught up in somebody else’s hassle - especially when you’ve got more urgent things to do. Nobody’s spotted you yet so there’s nothing to stop you slipping back west to 153. But if you’ve forgotten what curiosity did to the cat, you can investigate further (and take your chances) at 12.

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  49

  After a moment of disorientation, you find yourself on a plain outside a remarkable walled city characterised by scores of tall, well-built towers. To the east of you some distance away, you can see the tents and stables of a vast army camp. It looks as if the famous siege of Troy is well and truly under way.

  And if you’re going to cut it short, you’ve got a quick decision to make. Are you going to try to get into Troy at 59. Or make your way to that great army camp at 86.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  50

  You hold your breath, turning slowly purple in the face. The Pythia, by contrast, is inhaling like a woman possessed, which may be exactly what she is since she’s now making the most peculiar grunting and gurgling noises.

  “Is she all right?” you gasp out of the corner of your mouth, trying desperately not to breathe in.

  “Never better,” says the priest who doesn’t seem bothered by the smoke either. “That’s just Apollo talking through her. As we priests know, the gods always speak in a mysterious tongue that has to be interpreted (by us) for the hoi-polloi.”

  You don’t recall Zeus speaking anything but plain English, but you don’t bother to contradict him.

  “I shall interpret the oracle for you now!” he exclaims and promptly lets rip with the following verse:

  A questioner sent here by Zeus

  Asked of matters both vain and abstruse.

  But in giving replies

  It would be most unwise

  For Pythia to play fast and loose!

  You frown. “Very creative, but what does it mean?”

  “Ah,” says the priest, “that’s why you need me to interpret. It means you have five possible approaches to the task set you by Zeus. One leads to glorious victory, the other four to ignominious death.”

  “You got all this from that little poem?”

  The priest nods and smiles. “That and much more. Us priests are able to make extensive interpretations of the smallest material, which is why we get so many tips, of course. Now your five possibilities are sections 5, 19, 28, 32, 72. Which one will you chose?”

  “But how do I know which one leads to victory?” you protest. “I’ve got a five to one chance of getting killed - this isn’t fair!”

  “Of course it isn’t,” smiles the priest. “But if you slip me a couple of drachmas, I’ll give you a suitably obscure clue at 88.”

  This has suddenly turned into a nightmare. If you have two drachmas left, my strong advice would be to hand them to this greedy priest and go to 88 at once. If you haven’t (or just aren’t in the mood to listen to advice) then close your eyes and stick a pin in the following list of section numbers:

  5 19 28 32 72

  You might get lucky.

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  51

  Mmm, another temple by the look of it. Not quite so large as the one across the way, but beautifully designed. It’s rectangular and stands on a low, stepped terrace in a ritual enclosure. There a surrounding colonnade supporting a lintel under the gabled, tiled roof. The columns are Doric, heavy and closely spaced to support the weight of the masonry. But their heaviness is relieved by the tapered and fluted shaft.

  Since there’s nobody about to stop you, you slip quietly inside and look around. To the eastern end of the temple is a statue of a mature, but rather attractive, woman. You walk towards it, wondering which of the many Greek goddesses it might represent.

  “It represents Hera,” says a voice inside your head. “Queen of the gods, daughter of the Titans Cronus and Rhea and wife of your current boss.”

  “My current boss?” you echo also inside your head.

  “Zeus,” says the voice sharply.

  “Who are you?” you ask the voice nervously.

  “Hera, Queen of gods, daughter Titans, wife of Zeus and mother of four - who do you think?” There is a sudden shimmering in the air and the statue stretches then squats down so its head is more or less on your level. “There,” it says, “I’ve animated my statue now. Do you feel more comfortable now you can see me?”

  “A little,” you gulp.

  “Well,” she says, “what on earth are you doing wasting your time here when you should be finishing your training and getting to grips with the Trojan War. I’ve a personal interest in that little conflict, you know.”

  “Have you? I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, of course I have! The whole thing really started when Paris picked that slut Aphrodite over me in the beauty contest.”

  “He must have been stupid or very short-sighted,” you put in quickly on the principle that flattery will get you everywhere.

  Hera smiles. “Why, what a charming little adventurer you are. I’m glad my husband picked you to sort things out. When you get to the Trojan War, just make sure the Greeks win. I won’t be satisfied until Troy is completely wiped out. Now, how may I help you?”

  “Well,” you say uncertainly, “if you have any advice on how to complete my training here quickly, I’d be very grateful.”

  “Of course,” says Hera. “You must seek to witness the Battle of Marathon and advise on its outcome, otherwise you will never see my husband again.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” you tell her, frowning.

  “The things that gods say very seldom do,” she tells you and turns back to stone.

  Leaving you with no better option than returning to 61 to select another destination.

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  52

  “Wrong!” exclaims the guard, neatly lopping your head off with one swing of his sword.

  Look up at him from the cobbles while consciousness dims, then go to 13.

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  53

  Nice and cool in here. By the look of things it’s not so much a temple dedicated to any particular god as a pleasant meditation spot.

  If you want to meditate, you can do so at 22. But if you’d prefer to get on with your adventure without wasting time, the paths
from this place lead north to 99, south west to 58 or south east to 10.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  54

  “Think so?” asks Zeno. “But surely there must be a time when each has run half way, then a time when he’s run half the remaining distance, then a time when he’s run half the remaining distance after that. So however far he runs, he will always have half the remaining distance still to run, which means logically neither Arthur nor Achilles can ever actually finish the race. So they can’t both be winners, can they? Would you like to reconsider your answer?”

  Your only other options are that Achilles wins at 31, Arthur wins at 46 or neither of them wins at 64.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  55

  “Sir,” you say kindly, that being the sort of person you are, “if there is anything - anything at all - I can do to help, you only need to ask.”

  “Well,” says the old geezer bluntly, “you can try to put a stop to the Trojan War for a start.”

  You blink. “I’m sorry?”

  He gets down off his rock and to your surprise he’s a lot taller than he seemed. “Look,” he says, “I know you’ve doubts about my identity, but we’ll sort that out in a minute. The fact remains that as Chief God of the Ancient Greeks it’s my job to sort out Greek history. And frankly they’re making a mess of it. Especially the Trojan War.”

  “I thought the Trojan War was a myth?” you put in. “Didn’t Homer just make it up?”

  “Not unless you’re thinking of Homer Simpson,” Zeus sniffs. “They’re always trying to tell you history is myth if it doesn’t suit the latest theories. It’s not so long ago they claimed Troy itself was a myth. Charlie McLaren told them where it was in 1822, but they didn’t believe it until that pompous little German Schliemann dug it up in 1870. I can still remember the fuss!”

  “You were alive in 1870?” you frown, still not quite tuned in to who you’re talking to.

  “I was alive in 1870 BC!” Zeus snaps. “And a long time before that, I can tell you. But the point is, the Trojan War’s been going on far too long. I want you to go back in time to stop it.”

  “You want me -?” It sounds so ridiculous you start to giggle.

  Zeus frowns. “I’m glad you find it amusing,” he tells you. “I just hope you’re still laughing when you find yourself on the battlefield. Now, do you want to go straight away, or would you like a few minutes to brief yourself about the period? I notice your tour guide issued you with a Brief History of Ancient Greece.”

  Well, are you the sort of nerd who reads computer manuals or the sort of idiot who just blindly presses buttons? If you want to brief yourself about the Trojan War, turn to 30. If you’d prefer to jump straight in, you can do that at 80.

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  56

  “What are you - some sort of nutcase?” you demand. “You think you can scare the wits out of me like that and then bat your baby browns at me and ask for help? Don’t be such a prat!”

  He blinks in surprise, then frowns. “Nobody talks to a prince of Troy like that!” he growls.

  With which he hurls himself upon you.

  This clown is a prince? Too late to worry about that now. The important thing is that he has 50 Life Points and that shepherd’s crook hits with a surprising + 3. If he kills you, go to 13. If you kill him (in self-defence, naturally) turn to 83.

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  57

  “RIGHT!” exclaims the huge man enthusiastically. “Have another nine obols. That’s two drachmas you have altogether if you count the obols I’ve already given you!”

  “So can I go in now?” you ask again.

  “Not yet. That was only my second question. My third question is, to which god is the first toast of wine given at your average meal in Sparta? This question is to keep the barbarians out, you appreciate. Is it Zeus? Is it Hera? Is it Cronus? Is it Baccus? Is it Dionysus?”

  This is heavy going, but at least you’re making money. For Zeus, go to 148. For Hera go to 122. For Cronus go to 97. For Baccus go to 63. For Dionysus go to 8. And as always if you haven’t a clue, you can return to 61 and select another destination.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  58

  Dappled sunlight. You’re in a clearing in the woods.

  Paths lead south to 18, west to 78, east to 10, south east to 42, north west to 93, and north east to 33.

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  59

  You follow the walls of Troy around until you find a little gate. You raise your fist to knock. You hesitate. Like, are they really going to open the gate in the middle of a siege just because somebody knocks? You knock anyway.

  The gate opens. “Welcome to Ileum,” says a guard. “If you can tell me whether our dear Prince Paris is also known as Hector, Alexander, or Lysander I’ll let you through the first gate, otherwise I’ll kill you.”

  Here’s your chance. If you think the answer’s Hector, go to 26. If you think it’s Alexander go to 34. If you think it’s Lysander, go to 39. Otherwise, you can back off and make your way to the army camp at 86.

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  60

  You sink deep into the icy waters which must be fed from a deep underground spring to get this cold, then begin the long haul back to the surface. As you emerge, you notice your hand is convulsively clutching a small statue of Aphrodite you must have picked up from the bottom of the pool.

  You climb out, feeling the same sort of pleasure and satisfaction a lunatic gets when he stops beating his head against a wall and go off to collect your scattered clothing.

  When you’re decently dressed again, you can take your little statue of Aphrodite and your drachmas and troll on back to 61 to pick another destination from your map.

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  61

  You study your map. Now you’re close up, this curious collection of villages seems even less impressive than at a distance. Amazing to think this was the city-state that struck terror across the whole of the Mediterranean. Although the central village might become a respectable little town if it made the effort, two of the others are little more than collections of rather seedy little dwellings. Even the roads connecting them look little better than goat tracks.

  The Five Villages of Sparta

  Go to...

  105 51 145 44 114 35 77 85 125

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  62

  It’s irresistible. Merrily you gambol into the centre of the little group and find a goblet of foaming purple wine thrust into your hand.

  “Drink!” whispers a voice in your ear. “It’s the libation to Baccus!”

  If you’re teetotal, there are paths north to 10, north east to 84, west to 18 and north west to 58. But if you’re prepared to drink this heady brew, you can do so at 76.

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  63

  “Close, but no cigar,” says the huge man. “It’s more or less the same bloke, but it’s not the answer I have on the card. Want to go back to 57 and have another try?”

  Well, do you? If you want another try, turn back to 57. If not, you can always slip off to 61 and select another destination from your map.

  Please select an option from the previous page.

  64

  “I think so too,” says Zeno, “since there must be a time when each has run half way, then a time when they’ve run half the remaining distance, then a time when they’ve run half the remaining distance after that. So however far they run, they will always have half the remaining distance still to run, which means logical
ly neither Arthur nor Achilles can ever actually finish the race. So neither can actually win, can they?”

  “What a load of old codswallop!” you tell him bluntly. “Why don’t you just run the race and find out who wins instead of speculating about it logically?”

  With delighted shouts Achilles and Arthur streak off down the track. Achilles wins easily, then trots back to the start as Arthur is still lumbering a good fifteen inches from the line. Achilles grins at you. “Just shows logic has nothing to do with real life, doesn’t it?” He fishes in the pocket of his tunic. “Here’s a Golden Talisman,” he says, handing you a small brass disc. “It’s not magic or anything, but if we ever meet up again it will remind me I owe you a favour. If it hadn’t been for you, Arthur and I would have been frozen in time forever.”