The Adventures of Count Kurt von Hellstrom and Company, Part The First

[Note of explanation: I recently acquired a copy of Games Workshop’s classic dungeon-crawler Warhammer Quest, which is notoriously brutal on its players – though not quite so much as their earlier title Dungeonquest. What follows is a report of our first adventure together as a party – myself as the Elf, my friend Sam as the Dwarf, my friend Tom as the Wizard and my friend Tim as the Imperial Noble.]

“You must defeat the demon in the temple before it escapes and wreaks havoc across the land!”

The situation sounded serious. Count Kurt von Hellstrom stroked his beard absently, looking at the writ which had been pushed into his hand some hours earlier. He was expecting some companions to join him, but wasn’t sure what to expect. This was, after all, the first time he’d been out adventuring properly. It was time to see if those years of rapier training and pistol-shooting were good for anything.

An Elf was the first to arrive, hooded and mysterious.

“Hello,” said the Elf bluntly. “You’re Kurt?”

“I am, my good Sir!” said the Count with a flourish. “Count Kurt von Hellstrom, at your service!”

“Good,” said the Elf, then looked around him without another word.

There was an awkward silence. The people of Marienburg went about their business as usual, and here, in this alley behind the Beer and Boar Tavern, the two strangers eyed each other up.

“Might I know your name, my good sir?” asked Kurt finally, twiddling his beard around his fingertip.

“I’d… really rather not,” said the elf.

“Now come, come, sir,” said Kurt with a wry smile. “One should never be embarrassed about one’s heritage.” He flashed a sparkling medallion around his neck. “This has been in my family for generations. It gives me strength.”

The elf sighed and dropped his hood. Beneath it was a mane of long, blond hair.

“All right,” he said. “But if you laugh, I promise I’ll run you through.”

I’d like to see you try, thought Kurt, his hand instinctively moving to his rapier and the muscles in his legs tensing, but then he realised this was probably what passed for elven humour.

“I’ll be careful,” he said with a grin. “Now come on man, spit it out!”

“Tinkleblossom,” the elf replied, grimacing. “Tinkleblossom Feypants.”

There was another awkward silence. This time, the elf was the one to break it.

“I know, right?” he said. “You can just call me ‘elf’ if it’s easier for you to deal with.”

“No, no,” said Kurt. “Tinkleblossom is just fine.”

Tinkleblossom muttered something under his breath and raised his hood again – a clear signal that this conversation was, for now, over.

At that point, there was a raucous shout from around the corner and the sound of clattering metal.

“Ach!” cried a gruff voice. “Ye’d think ye’d never seen a chap who wanted tae defend his family honour before! Well sod ye, buddy!”

Tinkleblossom and Kurt both peered around the corner curiously, only to see a short, stout figure staggering up the alleyway towards them.

“Ach. Just on time. Ye’d be th’ adventurin’ types, aye?”

“Yes,” said Kurt. “I am Kurt von Hellstrom. This is… an elf. Who might you be?”

“Jizzmatron Drizzlecock at yer service, laddie.” He belched thunderously, then hiccuped, sneezed and wiped the snot which had escaped from his nose on the back of his hand. It was lost somewhere in his beard. Kurt grimaced. Tinkleblossom just shrugged and made a noise that sounded distinctly like “Meh.”

“Well, pleased to meet you,” said Kurt, regaining his composure quickly. “I believe we’re expecting one more.”

A booming voice echoed around the alleyway and smoke appeared as if from nowhere.

“That would be me!” thundered the voice, though there was apparently no-one else in the alley save the strange, wispy smoke. Suddenly, in a flash of light, another figure appeared and the smoke was gone.

“I’m Marlon,” said a somewhat less thunderous voice which came from an old-looking man with a lengthy white beard. “Scholar of magic. I believe you were looking for someone with my talents.”

“Aye,” said Kurt, smiling. “That I was. Now that we’re all here, I believe you should all take a look at this.” He brandished the writ.

“Ach,” grunted Jizzmatron. “Readin’s fer sissies. Just give us th’ short version, laddie.”

“Oh,” said Kurt, then shrugged. “All right then. Demon. Sealed in dragon statue. Deep in a dungeon. Protective magics weakening. Destroy it or die.”

“Aye! Now that sounds like some fun!” cried Jizzmatron.

Tinkleblossom glowered at the writ for a moment before handing it back to Kurt.

“We should get moving,” Kurt said. “It’s quite a trek.”

Four weeks passed as the adventurers picked their way to the abandoned Dwarven temple. It was an uneventful journey – led there by a local who knew the land well, the journey passed without incident. It was when the party descended the steps into the darkness that things began to get a little less straightforward.

“This is as far as I go. Oh, and you’ll need these,” said their guide, tossing a bundle of four dully-glowing swords to the floor. “They should make short shrift of that demon. Apparently. I don’t know. Good luck.”

The guide tossed his torch onto the cold flagstones at the bottom of the stairs and left the bewildered-looking party to their fate.

“So, err,” began Jizzmatron. “What now?”

“We explore, of course!” cried Kurt. “Riches await!” He pulled out a lantern from his pack and lit it.

“You’ve got the light,” said Tinkleblossom. “That means you get to go up front.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way!” said Kurt, spinning around to face the corridor into the blackness with an overdramatic flourish. He was about to step forward, when Marlon spoke up.

“Wait,” he said. “I feel the winds of magic. I should draw upon their power in case we need some… firepower.”

Marlon closed his eyes and grimaced. Jizzmatron stifled a snigger and whispered “He looks like ‘e’s shittin’ ‘imself!” to Tinkleblossom. The elf ignored him.

As suddenly as he had closed them, Marlon opened his eyes again and looked at Kurt. He looked a little concerned.

“Um,” he said. “I have a bad feeling.”

“What do you mean, a bad fe-”

At that moment, a stone block started sliding across the archway at the bottom of the stairs. Tinkleblossom and Kurt both lunged for it to try and brace it with something, but it was too late. Now they were trapped.

“Oh well,” said Kurt, unconcerned. “I’m sure there’ll be another way out.”

“Ye don’t know Dwarven construction, clearly, lad,” muttered Jizzmatron, but it was true – there wasn’t much option for the adventurers but to go onward.

“Let’s investigate this room a little,” said Kurt, holding up the lantern. “It’s… oh my.”

As the adventurers’ eyes slowly became accustomed to the gloom, they saw by the dim light of the lantern that the walls of this first chamber were lined with chests, suits of armour and piles of gems.

“We’ve hit gold!” yelled Jizzmatron. “Treasure!”

“Be careful,” said Tinkleblossom quietly. “It could be a-”

Sure enough, it was. Just as the dwarf was about to reach for the nearest pile of gold, there was a scuttling sound and suddenly a huge number of giant spiders dropped from the ceiling. The adventurers gave a shout as one, but they were too late to react and were soon engulfed in sticky webbing. Tinkleblossom, Marlon and Kurt managed to break free but Jizzmatron remained stuck. The others drew their swords and made short work of the spiders just as the dwarf managed to extricate himself from the sticky threads that bound him.

“Ach,” he spat. “Ye could have saved me one.”

“I’m sure there’ll be more,” muttered Tinkleblossom, wiping spider ichor from his blade and replacing it in his scabbard. “For now, we should search this room and see if there is anything useful.”

Ten minutes later, the adventurers stood up, covered with dust and a few last sticky bits of webbing.

“This ain’t no soddin’ treasure!” bellowed Jizzmatron. “It’s all fake!”

“What did you expect?” said Kurt. “Would you store your riches just inside the entrance?”

“Well, lad, ye coulda said somethin’ sooner if ye thought that!”

Kurt twiddled his beard a moment, then looked at the dwarf with a smile.

“Well,” he said, “There might have been something!”

Tinkleblossom sighed.

“Let’s move on,” said Kurt, brushing himself off and gesturing to the archway which was now visible.

The adventurers made their way onward into the darkness, slowly and carefully. Just as they were about to step through the archway, though, there was a gibbering sound and some knee-high green things skittered out of the inky blackness.

“Snotlings!” yelled Tinkleblossom, drawing his sword again. “This should be easy.”

Sure enough, the adventurers made short work of the greenskins thanks to some fancy swordplay from Kurt and some lightning magic from Marlon.

“Now,” said Marlon, “May we please move on?”

The adventurers stepped forward. Beyond the archway, the corridor they were in continued into darkness.

“What’s that sound?” asked Kurt, holding up the lantern. “Uhoh.”

There were tiny holes lining the walls of the corridor, and a soft swishing sound was slowly getting louder, until sand started seeping out and over the floor. It kept coming until it covered the floor. The section of corridor was completely covered with undulating sand. Jizzmatron slipped over and landed flat on his face just as a low gurgle announced the arrival of more guards – this time, orcs. The battle was made much more difficult by the undulating, shifting sands of the floor, with Jizzmatron and Tinkleblossom spending much of the fight face-down on the floor cursing and, on one occasion, at the bottom of a spike-filled pit which had managed to conceal itself beneath the sands.

The orcs were soon joined by some goblin spearmen – practically as soon as the first wave was dispatched, Marlon gave another “Uhoh” and the creatures leapt out from whatever shadows they were hiding in. Eventually, the party picked their way carefully away from the shifting sands, with Tinkleblossom dragging himself along the floor to get the last few feet, the number of times he had fallen over not doing wonders for his temper.

The corridor continued further and curved around to the left. With a roar, yet another band of orcs burst out of the shadows and attacked the party, this time accompanied by a small group of archers. One of them knocked Kurt to the floor, causing the rest of the party some concern, but Kurt managed to knock back a swig of a strange blue potion he’d found on the body of one of the goblins before he passed out. He immediately started to feel better – even more so once Marlon muttered an incantation and a strange green light enveloped him, knitting his wounds together and rejuvenating him.

“Aha!” cried Kurt. “A second wind! Take this!”

Kurt leapt to his feet, jumped back, drew his dueling pistol and fired a shot at a nearby orc, hitting it square between the eyes. Spurred on by the rejuvenation of their companion, the others made short work of the remaining greenskins and looked around the room.

“Do ye smell something?” asked Jizzmatron. “And it ain’t me farts. Not this time.”

“Mm,” said Tinkleblossom. “Sulphur. Certainly smells like them.”

“Was that a joke from ye, elf? Ah didnae expect that outta you.”

“I’m full of surprises,” muttered the elf. “This way.”

Tinkleblossom led the party through another archway where the corridor split in half.

“Which way?” said Kurt. Jizzmatron sniffed the air, and pointed to the left branch of the passageway.

Sure enough, the corridor opened out into a huge chamber filled with a dull red light that was coming from a huge crack in the floor. At the far end of the chamber was an enormous statue of a dragon. It wasn’t moving, but it almost seemed to be watching the warriors as they peered into the room.

Then, there was a roar, and a wall burst open. A huge brown shape charged into the room accompanied by a horde of greenskins.

“Minotaur!” yelled Jizzmatron. “Get back!”

The party steeled itself for what was likely to be a tough battle. Jizzmatron flung himself into the fray with aplomb, taking down orc after orc with his great axe. Tinkleblossom stood back and fired arrows into the fray accurately and carefully, eventually felling the minotaur with a lucky shot between the eyes. Marlon muttered incantations and lightning flashed through the air, striking orcs down left, right and centre.

Eventually, the bodies piled up and the warriors were victorious. But there was one thing left to do – and it was on the other side of a rickety-looking rope bridge.

Jizzmatron bravely volunteered to go first and stepped carefully onto the bridge. It wobbled under the weight of him and his equipment, but it held firm and he made it across, only to be face-to-face with the dragon statue. He drew the faintly-glowing sword that the guide had left the party with at the entrance of the dungeon and squared up to the statue.

“Make that hit count!” cried Kurt. “People are depending on-”

Jizzmatron didn’t need telling twice. He swung the sword in a wide arc at the statue’s head. The sword shattered, but not before the blade had struck true. There was a loud rumble and the whole room shook, but then the statue broke into pieces. Flames blew across the room, lighting a tapestry on fire and allowing the heroes an escape route. They ran through the dark tunnels as the rumbling grew louder and louder and escaped just as the “back entrance” to the dungeon collapsed behind them.

But now where were they? The landscape was unfamiliar. Kurt pulled out a pocket compass and pointed.

“That way,” he said. “If my calculations are correct, that way should get us back to civilisation.”

“Ach, let’s hope they are,” said Jizzmatron.

A week later, the adventurers were lost. Eventually, they came to a small village that wasn’t on their map and stopped for the night, deciding to continue on their way in the morning.

It wasn’t an easy journey. Marlon got struck by lightning on top of a mountain, meaning he spent the remainder of the journey naked, which certainly got him some funny looks from passing travellers. Tinkleblossom got swept off a cliff by a tornado and broke both his legs, but survived. Jizzmatron broke his ankle. And they got lost not once, but twice more.

Eventually, they made it back to a populous-looking town, with a wandering minstrel that they’d picked up along the way in tow. The guards were unimpressed with the minstrel’s performance at the gates, but they allowed the ragtag band of adventurers in to the town. Before they sorted out accommodations, they decided to fix the various problems that they had encountered on the journey, fixing Tinkleblossom’s broken legs, Jizzmatron’s broken ankle and Marlon’s singed robes. This ate into a considerable portion of the profits from their adventure, but by the time all was as it should be, the adventurers realised that they had enough to pay for some training.

Marlon, Jizzmatron and Kurt locked themselves away in the training camp for a week while Tinkleblossom went into the wilderness to be amongst nature for a while. Not one of them could possibly imagine where their adventures would take them next…

[So there you have it. A lengthy description of our first game of Warhammer Quest. All of the above events were randomly generated – as if that wasn’t already obvious! But the real strength of the game is that it keeps up its “theme” and “feeling” throughout. Two of the three people I was playing with aren’t big roleplayers, but the disaster-after-disaster thing that went on in the dungeon and on the subsequent journey home made it feel like the whole expedition had a real “story”, however nonsensical.]