Since your humble servant was forced to spend this past week on vacation, this diary entry will be a bit rushed (though with a pleasant bonus at the end). But I can’t just ignore your comments, so here we go.
Feedback
The idea of a literary contest didn’t stir much excitement, which was expected. Entertaining is our job, and your job is to be entertained. Still, we’ll organize something like that. If someone needs the stars to be lit, then the stars must be lit.
Some people suggested that since we’re dropping lore and discussing it here, it must mean we don’t plan to make other projects in Midian. Hm, strange, but fine. May I ask you a question? If we don’t plan other projects in Midian, then why do we stick together as a team and keep supporting Knock? I expand the game world, the artists keep producing amazing animated artwork, and BY THE WAY, remember that soon there’ll be the final rebalance of the game, which will let you see our creation from a new perspective.
And don’t forget how much depends on your response, your support, and the success of the project. We don’t have plans to make a sequel that nobody needs. We do have plans to make a sequel that crowds of people are waiting for. It’s simple, isn’t it?
Speaking of literature based on the game…
Have you been following the misadventures of our hapless correspondent from the Northern Gate? It’s a kind of text-based mini-series with pictures that we post from time to time on social media. Season one is over, and I’ve long wanted to collect all the episodes in one place, post them here, and enjoy rereading them. As I’ve said before, self-satisfaction is my best motivator.
The piece is mostly dialogue, so the text dump will be quite long. On the other hand, dialogues are easier to read and follow.
So then…
I got a job as a reporter at The Echo of the Northern Gate. For those who don’t know, it’s a highly respected periodical. Their signum grants immunity in most of Midian.
So I’m planning to travel the world, interviewing various Knock on the Coffin Lid characters. You can ask questions directed at ANY of the world’s characters by posting them in the comments. I’ll make sure to pass them on.
Alright, I’m setting out on my first trip. If one character receives enough questions, we might arrange a full interview. But first, I will do a quick tour of all the locations and try to ask a few questions to everyone I come across. Before we start, some news from the goblin town.
The Echo of the Northern Gate News
Eyes Were Seen In The Dark
Our correspondent encountered them in person while roaming the worm tunnels. Whatever it is, it offers gold and demands that you get out of its way. There are eyewitnesses who agreed to take the gold, but there is no one who refused the offer (and can tell about it).
Hurray, Vampire Is Back!
Our correspondent in the goblin town reports that the other day someone, somewhere saw the vampire who had disappeared many years ago and had been considered missing. Old folk remember how he settled in the town and became famous for his blood cocktails – such hits as Youth and Bloody Fantasy will forever remain in the hearts of the townspeople. They are excited by the rumors of the vampire's return. For now it is just rumors, but let's hope that he will return and make everyone happy with new masterpieces of cocktail making.
I’ll do my best to find the latest news and share it in order to keep you informed. And now, onward, on my first cruise through Midian!
The Frontier
Mortis
I decide to start from that very crypt. The door is open, and I enter without knocking. Mortis is about to kill me but I have just enough time to show him the Echo’s signum.
“Ah, the press… What do you want?”
I look around—four coffins, a bottle of wine and two cups on a table.
“Which one of these corpses are you going to revive?” I ask.
“Which one would you yourself want to revive?”
“Persival,” I say.
“Why? He’s the dumbest of them.”
I don’t agree.
“I don’t agree with that. He’s straightforward and predictable, but he is also kind and tries to do the right thing.”
Mortis rolls his eyes.
“You might be right, but I’m not in the mood to argue.”
“Neither am I.”
“You know what, I recommend that you get the word “PRESS” written on your forehead in large letters. That way, you’ll have fewer problems. I can write it myself, if you want.”
I hand him a quill, and he scribbles something on my forehead. Then he says, “Now get lost, I need to work.”
“Does it really say “PRESS” on my forehead?”
“Trust me it does—so get lost!”
I had been expecting a bit more respect for a reporter of The Echo of the Northern Gate, but I decide to let it go this time and set off. As I walk by the road puddle, I look at my reflection in it and see “SSERP” on my forehead. I feel quite silly, but I trust Mortis. That must work.
Fat Captive
I meet a couple of elves who are dragging a captive dwarf somewhere. They ask me for help. I come closer and they give my forehead a careful look.
I say, “As a journalist, I must not help any of the sides of a conflict. I have a question for you—do you follow the Convention on prisoners of war?
The elves exchange looks and smile at me.
“Of course! Right now we’re taking this dwarf to the camp to feed him! See how skinny he’s got? Can’t even walk on his own.”
Berserker Warchief
On the way to the Crimson Steppes, I come across a berserker wearing a bear skin. That’s quite a peculiar sight for me, so I decide to do a short interview with him.
Q: Hello, are you a berserker?
A: I’M A BERSERKER WARCHIEF!
Q: Alright. It’s said that unlike other, homebody, dwarves, berserker dwarves like to travel. Have you traveled?
A: YEAH! I SPENT MANY YEARS AT THE WEST COAST PIRATE BAY! I WAS A REAL SEA BEAR!
Q: Did you mean “sea wolf”?
A: WHA?! ARE YOU BLIND? I’M WEARING A BEAR SKIN! WOLVES ARE FOR LOSERS!
Q: Could you talk a bit quieter? I can hear you perfectly well.
A: HERE, TAKE A SIP!
He shoves a bottle under my nose. The smell coming from the neck is overpowering.
Q: What is this?
A: BERSERKER ELIXIR! TRY IT!
I take a swig, out of pure politeness. The warchief says,“HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?”
Q: IT’S GREAT! SO YOU WERE A PIRATE?!
A: AYE, SHIVER ME TIMBERS, I WAS! UNTIL I CAME BACK HOME!
Q: WHY DID YOU RETURN HOME?
A: I LOST WEIGHT AND FORGOT HOW TO SWIM!
I stop to think for a minute. How can one forget how to swim?
Q: HOW CAN ONE FORGET HOW TO SWIM?!
A: WE DWARVES CAN’T SWIM AT ALL! BUT OUR BELLIES WON’T LET US DROWN, LIKE BOBBERS! WELL, I LOST WEIGHT AND ALMOST DROWNED AND DECIDED TO GO HOME!
I suddenly feel awful.
“Ugh, my head is killing me.”
“YOU DRANK TOO LITTLE! HAVE SOME MORE!”
“No, thanks… Thanks for the interview…”
I set out to the Crimson Steppes, and on the way my headache disappears.
The journey continues!
Write your questions for Knock on the Coffin Lid characters in the comments. Pigeon post is working fine, and I remain in touch.
The Crimson Steppes
I wouldn’t make it far in the Crimson Steppes without my signum of The Echo of the Northern Gate. The very first orc who notices me, a human, chases after me and catches up quickly.
“Let’s test your strength against mine?”, he suggests. The enormous hammer in his paws lends his words extra weight.
“What for?”
“What do you mean? If you’re stronger, I’m your slave. If you’re stronger, I’m your slave.”
“Can you not see what’s written on my forehead?”
“I see all sorts of things written on all kinds of things.”
I show him my signum; he snarls in a way that makes me brace for the worst. Only when he starts speaking do I realise that he is smiling.
“That’s a different story. If you’d shown The Sunny City Herald’s signum, I’d’ve killed you on the spot. But The Echo of the Northern Gate is my favourite paper.”
“Glad to hear that. The Herald’s our rival.”
“Can I get an autograph?”—he pulls the last issue of The Echo from his wide pants, and I sign it. He starts rumbling happily. That’s his way of saying thank you.
“And give my regards to Michelle Cherchelle! I love his culinary column.”
And while I have the chance, let me bring to your attention a short article by Michelle Cherchelle!
Today We Try The Ichor
This is once again Michelle Cherchelle with my culinary column. Today I have an exotic delicacy on my table – the Mite Ichor! It is unlikely that you'll be able to try it, but I will do my best to share my impressions of the product. Its taste can be compared to an octopus beak boiled in mole sweat. I don't recommend it in its pure form – your taste buds won't be happy. But as an ingredient it can go into a lot of things. More on that in the next issue.
Batu the Smart
When I wander into Batu the Smart’s camp, I see two goblins—that’s an instant interview opportunity.
Q: What are goblins doing in an orc clan?
A: Batu is a bane for orcs, that’s why we’re supporting him, you moron.
Q: How exactly are you supporting him?
A: We steal gold from the clan treasury, give it to Golden Buffalo and ask him to bless our great Batu.
Q: Does Batu not notice the theft?Oh, let me guess… He can’t count, can he?
A: Maybe you’re not such a moron after all.
Q: I want to do a quick interview with your Batu.
A: You can try, moron.
I decide not to react to the goblins’ insults and go straight to Batu.
Q: Can I ask you for a short interview?
A: Batu have long interview! Take it!
Q: You don’t understand what an interview is? It’s a completely different thi—
A: I said take it!
After running away from Batu the Smart, I continue my journey across the Crimson Steppes.
I’ll stay in touch.
Leave your questions for Knock on the Coffin Lid characters in the comments.
The Arena
I couldn’t simply pass by the famous Crimson Steppes Arena without going in, even though there may very well have been readers of The Sunny City Herald in amongst the crowd of orcs. But my fears turned out to be groundless—it appears that orcs never ever read that trashy little elven paper.
To avoid any misunderstandings, I show the organizer of the fights my signum immediately. He still feels the need to clarify:
“Are you going to participate?”
“As a member of the press, I have the right to refuse participation.
“It’s not forbidden for journalists to fight in the arena.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I still wish to refrain.”
Then the organizer takes me to the local hall of fame. The heads of great champions of the past are hung all over the walls. The organizer asks me again.
“Well? Will you participate now? If you become the champion, one day we’ll mount your head on this wall.”
“That’s a great honor, but I have no chance of becoming a champion. My weapon is the pen. I prefer to strike at people’s hearts with it.”
“Hmm, yeah, you definitely don’t have any hopes in the arena. Orcs' hearts aren’t vulnerable to pen strikes.”
Archer
I keep walking on and see an archer orc. I just can’t ignore such a specimen, but our interview doesn’t last long. I get the impression that the orc is ashamed of his weapon.
Q: Good day! May I ask you a couple of questions? Archer-orcs are a rare find, after all.
A: Well, someone has to do the dirty work. The goblins have their archers, so we need to have archers, too.
Q: Are you good with a bow?
A: I’m not. But those mole-eyed goblins shoot even worse. Bye.
Q: Wait, I’ve asked you only one question!
A: Two.
Q: One.
A: BYE.
I’m approaching the Northern Gate . I hope the Inquilines respect the freedom of the press.
Northern Gate
Turmoil
I reach a village on the outskirts of the Northern Gate. The place has been taken over by the Brotherhood of Fire. I come up to one of the locals and strike a conversation.
“Why are you not fleeing? They’re going to burn everyone here.”
“Let them try! I’ll turn into a demonic spawn right now and tear you all apart!”
I show him the signum of The Echo of the Northern Gate.
“Fine, I won’t turn for now,” he says. “Leave, and make sure your paper covers the news about the atrocities the firebrothers are committing.”
“But that’s what they always do. Everyone knows that. It’s not news.”
I walk away, deep in thought. If that man can turn into an abomination, then by rights he should be burned. I do condemn the methods of the Brotherhood, but how can we find out who is possessed and who isn’t? Maybe our readers know the answer?
Wounded Firebrother
All of a sudden I run into Mortis! He’s standing next to a wounded brother of fire, talking to him. We can’t ignore an event like this, can we?
“Mortis, what are you doing here?”
He quickly grabs my arm and pulls me aside.
“This is not the best time and place for an interview.”
“Why?”
As we’re talking behind a tree, the wounded firebrother is approached by Persival.
“Oh, so you awakened Persival after all.”
“Just as you wanted. But if he sees us here, he’ll have some inconvenient questions running through his head.”
“Now I have them in my head, too.”
“Keep them to yourself.”
“You’ve made a deal with the Brothers of Fire to help Persival get into the castle?”
“Bold assumption.”
“Yes or no?”
“No.”
“What’s stopping you from lying?”
“Nothing.”
Millenis
I sneak into the castle without any incidents, except that I have to pay the gatekeeper. But it’s fine—the paper will cover my travel expenses. Millenis greets me with a hint of irritation in her voice.
“I think I’ve ordered that the press not be let in,” she says disappointedly. “That crooked gatekeeper needs to be let go. This place feels more like a thoroughfare than a castle.”
“My apologies for the disturbance, Lady Millenis, but I have a very important question from one of our readers—who actually are you two, you and Mortis?”
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Maybe a ‘SPOILER’ warning would be enough?”
“Okay, is that the only question?”
- “No.”
Expect a big interview with Millenis in the next news release.