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[Zaru]

Originally Posted by chumloofah

Eureka!
On the cryptic advice of Zaru I found myself completely without wands on any kind.
However, I did have an amber potion which didn't work.
So, out of the dungeon and scaling the cliffs to reach the cave of the ancient i asked him, "Hella potion's that?"
And he said it had the anti-mage symbol on it.
Back to the dungeon, freshly kitted out with the anti-mage rune and spell components.
I blasted the runes with anti-magic missiles... Nothing.
I tried missiles with damage and anti-magic... That dispelled the original tile and needed a regular missile to bring it back.
After all that my frustration gave me the solution...

I wanged that rune with a double damage spell. that's missile-dmg-dmg and ought to get anybody who didn't suss it out rolling

solution

Well, I just realized that I made a mistake in Amber Wand's description by stating that it invokes missile-damage and not missile-damage-damage. That's why my hint became cryptic... Sorry for that.
I solved the riddle because I was to lazy to mix the missile-damage spell and just clicked the amber wand which I had readied. At first I thought that it worked because the floor tile it stroke had also amber color... Now I know that it's because this wand does double damage (Well, I didn't inspect this wand at the Ancients... My bad).

Quote

Hello, Fantasy Freak.
Well I just made some small research and I found a manual for Bloodwych from which we find out that it takes place in... Trazere!

THE LEGEND OF THE BLOODWYCH....

It has long been the custom among the people of Trazere to tell the
most ancient of legends; that of the Bloodwych, secret order of phychic
mages. It is said that many eons ago The Bloodwych ruled over the
ancient and powerful city of Treihadwyl. There they secretly presided
over the affairs of the land of Trazere, meting out punishment and
reward to its citizens, and communing with the elements on their
behalf. For many centuries the people of Trazere lived in respectful
awe of the Bloodwych, but while they ruled the land was safe. Safe,
that is, until one black morn long before your grandfather's great
grandfather was conceived.

For there was among the Bloowych one Zendick, second in power and
mystic arts to the Grand Dragon alone. But for all his power and
wisdom, Zendick was a creature driven by greed and ambition. He was
no longer satisfied with living in the shadow of the master mage, so he
rejected the ways of the Bloodwych and courted black and evil arts.
After many years devious plotting Zendick was finally ready to deal the
blow he had long dreamt of, and that very day he called the powers of
darkness to him and destroyed the Grand Dungeon, leader of the
Bloodwych.

His Bloodwych brothers were unprepared for this onslaught, and thus
were unable to resist Zendick before he banished them forever to the
astral plane. It is said that Zendick's evil laughter could be heard
resounding across the whole land on that morn. All day and all night
was his laughter heard, and on the following day the skies darkened,
and rained blood, and the land opened up and many good citizens of
Trazere were heard of no more.

It is then told how in the many moons that followed Zendick called to
Treihadwyl many creatures of the night, and the goodly folk of the land
dared not walk forth after sunset. And slowly the city of mages was
transformed. There appeared above its ramparts forbidding towers and
within them lay great crystals of storing, slowly sucking energy and
life from the land. With this energy Zendick intended to summon a lord
of entropy, incarnation of pure chaos, who would dissolve the fabric of
the universe into the elements from which it was forged. Then, Zendick
alone would be free torecreate the world in his own image. He was, of
course, quite mad. Chaos would leave nothing but the crystals from
which it was born.

With each passing year the land about Treidhadwyl became bleaker and
colder. The city itself seemed to radiate evil, infecting all who
strayed within its influence. Trazere and its people became but a
shadow of all they had been before,and the birth of each child, and the
harvesting of the crops became times for weeping, not rejoicing. Once
a great mob, armed with little more than their wits, marched on the
city, determined to end the blight that had ruined their lives. Only
one man returned, half-starved, his flesh scorched and bare. He barely
had time to utter the horrors he had seen before his final breath
shuddered through his body and his soul mercifully joined those of his
fallen comrades.

Now, as I write this infernal record, there seems little more to live
for. Disease and despair pervade the land, and the lust for life our
forefathers had, will never be enjoyed by their children. All that
remains is to pray. Pray that someday The Bloodwych will return and
avenge us.

Helveth Sharpquill, Scribe.
Written by his own hand this 13th day of Seth, in the
four thousand and eightyfirst year of the dark.


....somewhere, deep in the realm of souls, a mind was reaching out,
calling its compainions toward it. Unseen like the wind, the spirits of
many came together. Formless though they were, each mind linked,
sharing its thoughts with others. No word was uttered, no sound made,
but within the astral void a thought took shape.

"Bloodwych are we, immortal mages,seekers of light. We must not be
defeated brothers. The black art of Zendick has arrived for too long.
He must be destroyed, and the right time is now. Zendick's influence is
grown too strong. The Lord of Entropy is gathering his power, and will
soon begin his plague of destruction. If we do not banish him to the
realm of chaos then all will be lost...."

"Saldar and Vestryl, you are charged with the most important task any
of the Bloodwych have ever undertaken. You must find the last sixteen
champions of Trazere, and link your minds with the worthiest two.
Then, if the universe is to be saved, you must lead them into the heart
of Treihadwyl, and once there, find and destroy the crystals of
storing. Go now, and may the spirit of the Bloodwych be with you...."

Murlock Darkheart awoke to find himself in the gloom of a cold stone
passageway. He groaned as he sat up, his eyes misting over with pain.
Immediately he remembered the previous night. Strange that so many fine
adventures should have arrived at the same lonely tavern in one
evening. That, he promised himself,would be the very last time that a
drop of mead passed his lips. How was it possible taht a powerful and
dignified mage like himself could have ended up carousing with common
fighters. He would never again be able to look his fellow spell-casters
in the eye.

Right now though his main concern was getting out of the filthy hole
he had wandered into his drunken stupor. As he walked on Murlocks heart
began to sink. The corridors seemed to go on for ever, winding about
each other like an enormous maze. He was beginning to wonder if he was
destined to become rat fodder in this godless place, when he thought he
caught a glimpse of something moving ahead of him. And surely enough,
as he rounded a corner he saw a figure heading off into the darkness.
If his eyes did not mistake him, it was one of the adventures he had
encountered in the tavern the night before.

Darkheart was about to give chase when a sudden nausea came over him
and he fell to the ground retching. His head seemed about to explode,
and he became confused by strange visions of things unknown to him.
But his pain was not long-lived. The sickness soon subsided and was
replaced by a comforting presence. As he recovered, Darkheart realised
that something very strange had happened to him, but he was not afraid
....the Bloodwych were with him.

long spiel

But both - the developer and the publisher are different than those who made Four Crystals of Trazere