ADVENTURE TIME

The score is Dungeon 9, Humans 3, and a fresh quest begins.

The next dungeoneer is called Ben.

  “Ben is truly the name of a winning dungeoneer” Treguard booms encouragingly. “Go forth, and live up to your name.”

The quest begins in the level one clue room. The advisors direct Ben to the table and ask him to identify the objects.   

  “There’s a golden chalice, a red stone and a large bone, definitely from some sort of limb” reports Ben.

  “Much here to catch the eye, team” Treguard notes. “But the choice comes only after your trial.”

The far wall shimmers and forms the face of Phelheim. The only exit has transformed into his gaping maw.

  “You’re in for a testing time, young dungeoneer” the wall monster chuckles. “I seek three truths from you, and here is my first. All England’s gentry seek to blight the clergy’s legal sacred right, to castle own and passage book; who’s ‘tween a Bishop and his Rook?”

Ben is not a chess player, but fortunately one of his advisors is.

  “Knight” comes the reply.

  “Truth accepted” booms Phelheim. “Here is my second. Though faerie not, but very grand, a queen of England’s fair great land is dubbed by some the faerie queen, but tell me which queen do they mean?”

  “I dunno, Queen Victoria?” guesses Ben hastily.

  “Falsehood!” proclaims Phelheim triumphantly. “Elizabeth the first was the faerie queen. Here is my third and last. Made like me the mountain stands; the tallest object in our land. Give name to him.”

  “Oh, what’s the tallest mountain in Britain?” muses an advisor.

Although he has not really understood Phelheim’s words, this prompts Ben to venture an answer.

  “Ben Nevis” he says.

  “Truth accepted” Phelheim is forced to reply. “Two is the score. Your quest is for the Sword, but you may not wield it. You must rattle her bones, or she’ll rattle yours. The first step is the shuffle.”

Phelheim’s face melts back into the wall. The advisors tell Ben at once to take the bone, and decide that the chalice might be needed because it is unusual. Then Ben is directed out. Next comes the spectral scorpion.

  “Watch out for that sting, team, but don’t hang around” Treguard urges.

The advisors duly direct Ben past the menacing sting and through the waiting doorway. The room on the other side is filled with billowing smoke. A hunched shape can be seen in amongst the clouds, stooping over a cauldron.

  “Oh dear, team” Treguard grins. “Mildread has never been that successful with magic, but now it appears she really is in over her head!”

  “That’s right, oh great Dungeon Master, laugh at the misfortunes of a poor old woman” rasps Mildread’s reedy voice from the smoke. “Heaven frowns on those who spurn charity. Yet I’m sure you don’t, young dungeoneer. Oh yes, although she cannot see, Mildread knows you’re there. Mildread also knows that you are carrying the ingredient she needs to end this spell she has been attempting, which, as you can see, has gone somewhat awry. You’re not going to keep it from me, are you?”

A knobbly hand suddenly protrudes from the inscrutable smokescreen.

  “Well, team, will you trust Mildread to be telling the truth, or try to navigate your own way through?” asks Treguard. “That is, of course, if you have worked out what the witch needs.”

  “Give her the bone” agree the advisors.

  “Ah, thank you” Mildread breathes as she receives the implement. “Now, shiver me timbers, rattle me bones, take us back to clearer tones.”

The smoke immediately clears, and the advisors see Mildread leaning on her staff and grinning inanely.

  “My thanks to you, young warrior” Mildread seethes. “What is your name?”

  “Ben” comes the reply.

  “Well, Ben, you got me out of a jam, so I’ll do the same for you” Mildread returns graciously. “The password for this level is sorcery, but it will not save you from the warrior of wheels and springs. Only those who are pure of heart may touch the Cup of Christ. The second step is the trip.”

The witch then cackles madly and disappears in a blinding flash. The advisors direct Ben out, and into the Great Corridor of the Catacombs.

  “Don’t tarry here, team, for it can prove deadly” Treguard warns.

Sure enough, the room is filled with the sound of the Automatum approaching. Of the two near doors, the one on the right is blocked up, so Ben is directed to the left. But it is from here that the clattering Automatum appears! The team panic in dismay.

  “Quickly, team, you must seek another exit!” Treguard urges them.

Ben is hurriedly directed further up the passage before the brainless Automatum can realise what is happening. Through the right-hand door lies the blocker’s chamber. The large grey wall grates forwards and forms a menacing countenance.

 “Password!” it demands.

 “Sorcery” cries Ben.

The wall shoots off and Ben is directed out. He emerges into the wellway room, where Fatilla is sitting on the stone steps that lead up to the portal to the next level.

  “Ooh, a dungerperson” the Barbarian slurps. “Welcome to the end of level one, Helmet Head. Of course, it may also be the end of your quest, unless I decide to let you pass.”

  “Well, if Ben has anything valuable this is where he loses it” Treguard says.

  “I’ll give you this beautiful golden chalice” Ben offers enthusiastically.

  “Oh, it is beautiful!” exclaims Fatilla gleefully. “I must have it!”

Ben obligingly hands the chalice to the guard. Immediately there is a loud hissing, then Ben can smell burning flesh.

  “Aaah, it burns!” screams Fatilla in agony, desperately trying to shake off the sacred relic that is clinging to his flesh. “Get it off! Get it off!”

The Barbarian runs screaming from the room, waving his steaming arm helplessly.

  “Well, Ben, while you are obviously pure of heart, Barbarian flesh is subject to different treatment from the Grail” Treguard chuckles. “Hurry now, for the wellway is clear, and level two beckons.”

Ben is taken down the well and into level two. He lands in a large blue cave that contains a set of stocks. The team are very surprised to see Elita imprisoned in them.

  “Oi, face-ache!” Elita calls sharply. “Get yourself over ‘ere, sharpish!”

The advisors direct Ben to the trapped elf maiden.

  “I’m Ben, a dungeoneer” Ben introduses himself. “Can I help you at all?”

  “Oh no, I’m just fine, thanks!” spits Elita sarcastically. “Of course I want help, jelly-brain. That stupid jester Motley has put me in this damned contraption and I can’t get out. He must have somehow managed to put a spell on it, because I just can’t escape!”

  “Well, it looks as though the tables have turned for Elita, team” chuckles Treguard. “And she richly deserves it! Still, don’t abandon her just yet; I’m sure she’ll pay well for her release.”

  “Oh yes, I promise I will” Elita pleads piteously. “Just find Motley and persuade him to release me and I’ll help you into level three, you have my word.”

  “Alright” agrees Ben. “I’ll help you.”

  “Oh thank you!” breathes Elita. “I promise I’ll come and find you as soon as I get out of here. You’d best be off now, and please hurry! Oh yes, if you’re going to find Motley then I suppose I’d better tell you the third step. Listen up, then. It’s slip. Now, beat it!”

Ben is directed out, into the level two clue room. There is a mirror potion, a bar of gold and Motley’s folderol on the table.

  “Well, here’s a clue if ever I saw one” Treguard says. “But don’t spend too long reflecting on it, team.”

The team instantly tell Ben to take the folderol and the potion, and direct him out. He emerges into Merlin’s chamber.

  “Come now, team, you surely know what is required here” Treguard booms. “Take the right steps for further progress.”

Ben shuffles forwards, causing the first slab to appear. Although it is quite dangerous pretending to trip and slip over a bottomless pit, Ben successfully completes the path and calls Merlin to his throne.

  “Ah, congratulations young Ben” the wizard smiles warmly. “You have reached this most important of points in level two. But if you wish to progress you will need my magic, and for that you must first show knowledge. I refer now to the time of the Crusades, those Christian wars fought for supremacy against the Moorish hordes. Tell me, what were the name and number of the king called the Lionheart?”

  “Richard…” Ben falters.

  “The first” puts in an advisor.

  “Truth accepted” Merlin says. “And one Crusade captured the city of Istanbul, but what was that city called at the time?”

  “Constantinople” Ben replies, remembering a song he once heard.

  “Truth accepted!” Merlin beams. “Excellent! You have answered well, so now a little magic shall be yours. The name of the magic is charm. Do not be fooled by its name; it is certainly a spell, not a charm, but its effects are still very charming indeed. Now, be on your way, and the best of luck to you.”

Merlin disappears in a blinding flash, and Ben is directed out of the room. He finds himself in Medusa’s cave. The Gorgan’s stone stare gazes down on him, snakes writhing in place of hair.

  “Extreme warning, team, there’s no way past the Medusa without being turned to stone” Treguard says urgently.

  “Swallow the potion” instructs an advisor.

Ben does so, and a large reflective shield of power appears before him. Medusa screams and is silenced as her own stare turns her to stone. The advisors are then able to direct Ben calmly to the exit.

Things seem to be going well for Ben, but will his luck hold? Find out in the next Adventure Time.