In the second part of my dad's adventures in Legend Of Grimrock (you can read part one here) we learn why my dad never goes anywhere in games and takes three million years to finish them. We also learn that he's putting off writing about the bit where he got stuck and had to have me do it for him. To the dungeons!
Where was I? Ah yes, home!
Well, you know how snails are a bit slimy but they say they taste okay, if a bit crunchy, if you add enough garlic to the butter... well, downstairs things got a bit frantic. Urrrrgh, SPIDERS! Poisonous spiders! Nasty things, and they keep reappearing, and you can't eat them.
Down on Level 3 a closable door is a great source of comfort. But do check that there isn't another route to your side of the door - no sooner do you think you've cleared out an area and settled down for a much needed doze than you are rudely awakened by one of these quite dreadful things tapping you somewhat less than politely on the shoulder.
Furthermore, I don't know what these green things are. They look like some sort of plants but they have cobwebs on them, and whenever I leave them alone - if they aren't in my way - I soon get taken by surprise by more spiders where no spiders had been since I knocked off the spiders that were there before I arrived. Are you still with me? The spiders most certainly are. So, I thought, maybe the cobwebs are a clue. Hmmmm, what if they are spiders' eggs? So I adopted the Joe Stalinesque approach to gardening.
Then I found a note, something about watching my back because the spiders are everywhere. Well, thanks a bundle for telling me. I might never have noticed otherwise.
Oh? Did I mention that I decided to restart? I'm good at that. (I can hear the Junior Branch groaning even as I write - how many times did I restart Civilization?). [He's not wrong. It's a wonder he gets past the middle of any game - Son/Ed] Anyway, now I had an all human gang [Speciesist - Son/Ed], two fighters up front, a Roguish female and a Sorcerer, and gave them all a poison resistant attribute. I'm really not sure it helps all that much, but it made me feel better (a bit like being a Redguard in Skyrim).
Then came one of those dratted reaction-time thingummees. You know, press a button, rush round the corner and through a door, which closes behind you - and here are multiple spiders. WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!
My goodness, those ice bombs are useful – but isn't it rather unsporting to be knocking seven colours of brick dust out of the poor thing while it is still frozen solid? Now, I wonder if I should have saved that ice bomb for, er, maybe I should reload the save position and redo that bit. (Is this another groan I hear before me?)
Anyway, jumping into pits - because they are there - sometimes reveals stuff down there, useful stuff, or at least stuff that might be useful eventually, when I have enough points to use it, possibly, one day. And sometimes it just gives you a headache followed by ravening hordes!
I'm carting around all this stuff that either was useful, is useful or might be useful one day. Gosh! I have an attic like this! Dungeon Master was the same - an exercise in packing at times. Perhaps I should declutter, but you never know when you may need it.
I opened a wall and found some stairs down, opened a door, and there was The Blob. Lots of Blobs. Nasty, diseased things. Ugh! Um? Maybe later? Perhaps there's another way down? Phew?
I wonder what's down below, shall we go and find out? Oh!
Part Three had better start fessing up to all the complaining John's had to put up with for the last fortnight, soon.