Baldur's Gate: The Zero Reload Saga

You know you’re having a bad day when you’re overjoyed to find a heavy lump of wood.

Yes, we got Jaheira a club. Just like a druid to spec themselves for what is possibly the most useless weapon group in the entire game.

By extension, we’ve also dealt with Ilyich and his cronies. They didn’t cause any trouble, not that this should come as much of a surprise to anyone. After a few swings and a swift chunking of the mage, about half of them broke and started running, including Ilyich himself. They didn’t get far, of course, partially because the CPU’s path-finding doesn’t have enemies “flee” when their morale fails so much as it makes them run around like beheaded poultry, and partially because Vespero was after them like a shot, grinning madly and screaming, “LITTLE PIGS! LITTLE PIIIIIGS!”

That’s what I envisioned him doing, anyway.

You’ve also got to love the way all the Duergar shout “By Moradin’s hammer!” over and over again while they’re fighting.

Because, you know, Duergar totally worship Moradin.

God, I’m such a nerd.

So, now we’ve got some acorns and a snazzy set of chain mail; going to Jaheira of course, because armour is for pansies. It’s interesting to note that the description for the acorns tells you that they belong to the dryads, even if you haven’t actually spoken to the dryads yet. Obviously I wasn’t supposed to come to this room first. Well, screw you developers. I defy thee.

We won’t be progressing any further down this path for now since it’s trapped. Got to pick up the ferner first, so it’s off to kill Mr. Otyugh and contract hideous, debilitating diseases that mysteriously vanish in a matter of hours.



Or not, because it didn’t actually manage to hit anyone. Haaaah.

We pick up the Wand of Frost key, trying to avoid thinking too much about where exactly on this disgusting, filth-ridden freak of nature’s carcass that such a thing might have been kept, then backtrack slightly to the corridor the Sewage Golem uses to slay a few more goblins. No archers this time, so they’re about as much threat as a beached haddock.