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THE QUEST FOR THE AMULET
How long has it been?
How many lifetimes have passed since I began my sojourn through this maze of underground passageways, of damp, dimly lit chambers? How long have I been alone, the only human among a menacing crew of hideous subterranean beasts, stumbling over forlorn reminders that others have passed this way before me… never to return!
Long before I forgot the warmth of the noonday sun or the refreshing coolness of the evening breeze, I forgot my name. Call me what you will. I am the Rogue.
As I wander, I hold fast in my mind the one object that stands out from all the others: the sacred Amulet of Yendor. This precious gift was left behind by magicians of old to remind mankind of its origins. Stolen by the evil Dungeon Lord, who despised its beauty and purity, the Amulet has remained hidden in the deepest reaches of this tortuous maze, calling those who seek it to sure destruction.
Long ago, I began my quest for this object, this prize spoken of only in hushed tones by even the bravest Knights and Guildmasters around the dying embers of evening fires. Long ago, the magic Amulet of Yendor began burning its way into my heart, began drawing me here to my uncertain fate.
Somehow, I found my way to this place, rolled back the moss-covered stone, and entered its darkness. Now I abide here, searching endlessly for the precious Amulet… and finding a thousand horrors.
Through these unlit corridors I wander, stumbling in the dark, encountering new ordeals at every turn. In one chamber, heat causes my suit of armor to burn the very skin it was designed to protect. In another, a chill penetrates to the bone, turning my limbs to ice.
Everywhere, I am relentlessly pursued by beasts and demons. I cannot begin to count them. There are creatures of every low and mean quality lurking here. Formless slimes and aquators, bats and goblins, centaurs, and that most hideous and unnatural of creatures, the Ur-vile. Fortunately, my ever ready mace serves to quickly dispatch many of my adversaries. Against other, stronger beasts, I must defend myself with other weapons: arrows, daggers, magic wands or deadly potions. I stumble from battle to battle, taking care to rest occasionally, or to partake of a few morsels of food.
One gift the magicians make available to true seekers of the amulet — and to them alone — is the gift of life after life. Yet even this gift is tainted with a curse by the Lord of the Dungeon. For each time I sleep the sleep called death, I find myself carried, unknowingly, back to the very first room of the highest level of the dungeon, from whence I must again begin the tortuous, unpredictable journey time and time again.
Why does nothing now look familiar? Is this another of the Dungeon Lord's tricks — or is it my rapidly eroding memory that makes everything seem changed. I wake from the sleep called death to find that nothing is the same. Everything is transformed, familiar yet treacherously rearranged.
As I plumb the uncharted depths of this Dungeon of Doom, I wonder. Where am I? Is this a passageway I've trudged before? Is this the chamber in which I left my cloak of chain mail? Does this wall conceal a trap door I found and lost lifetimes ago?
On my way I must acquire the provisions that make themselves available to me — despite the fact that they were left behind by the miserable victims of this place. Here a bit of food, and there a suit of armor from an unfortunate owner. Quivers of arrows for my sturdy short bow… oh yes, and magic wands, enchanted staffs, and potent elixers, some powerfully good, some horribly evil. Manuscripts of ancient texts, meaningless to my eyes, which vanish in thin air before I can begin to understand them. And of course, gold! A king's ransom of it, yet useless unless I somehow make my way to the very bottom of the dungeon and back again.
As I collect these objects and put them in my knapsack, I must discard others… or use them at once to fend off the adversaries that dog my every step.
Still, even my few possessions are affected by the Dungeon Lord's spells. Potions which in lifetimes past revitalized me, now send me sprawling on the floor, clutched in spasms, burning with fever. Armor which served me in battle after battle becomes a crushing burden, cursed by the Dungeon Lord.
Each time I attempt to plumb these depths, I must be constantly attentive. Should my guard slip for a moment, I will fall prey to the horrors that surround me.
In my mind, shining like a beacon in the darkness, the Amulet of Yendor beckons me on, deeper and deeper. One day I shall hold it in my hand, caress it in the void, then race, level by level, back to the surface. There I shall hold it high, deliver it once again to the light of day, and reclaim again the name so long ago forgotten.
YOU ARE THE ROGUE ™
Your quest is to fight your way through the Dungeons of Doom and return with the fabled Amulet of Yendor (or die trying). For protection, you have been given armor, an enchanted mace, a bow, and a quiver filled with arrows. At the beginning of your journey you have food to last you one meal. In the dungeons you will find more food and weapons left behind by previous unlucky seekers. As you descend, search out these hidden treasures, gold pieces, and magical potions to help you in your ultimate search — the quest for the Amulet. But be prepared for the many monsters that will make your journey challenging. As you proceed through each journey you will be ranked on your quest. Return triumphant and enter the highest ranks of the Guildmaster's Hall Of Fame.