A list of all the game's books.
- 1 The Museum
- 2 Tyrannosaurus Wrecks
- 3 Dankenstein
- 4 Iron Slugger
- 5 Whitechapel
- 6 The Time Machine
- 7 The Professor's Lab
The legendary Knight Sir Daniel Fortesque. Born around 1250, died 1286 at the battle of Gallowmere. Legend has it that after defeating the evil Sorcerer Zarok at the battle of Gallowmere he rose from the dead a century later to destroy Zarok once and for all. It is said, that in times of great need, he will return again to free the land from evil.
Book 2 - Kraken
The great Kraken, that could smash a boat between its fearsome jaws - some still suppose that the deepest seas still hold creatures like this great beast. Fisherman, Phil McCaven, caught this example off the coast of Bognor Regis in 1774.
Book 3 - Zarok monster
Despite assuming many monstrous forms, the evil sorcerer Zarok was reputedly a coward. Legend has it that the Great Knight Sir Daniel Fortesque vanquished this creature in 1386.
Recent advances in technology have allowed us to accurately rebuild these great beasts for the first time. Many of these giant creatures stood as tall as a house. Their brains were small and weak and had to be protected by large bony bounce plates.
Book 1 - Professor's Hamilton Kift's research notes
My experiments have been a partial success.
So far I have managed to re-animate a number of body parts. Unfortunately they tend to mutate into ghastly creatures that are quite beyond my control. I am forced to release them to forever roam searching for food in the bowels of the London underground.
I am afraid to say that at this point my research has reached a dead end.
Since her arrival Kiya has been helping with my experiments. Her knowledge of Egyptian embalming techniques has led me to believe that great progress can be made. Whilst Fortesque is out saving the world I have been making the final touches to a machine that I am convinced will be able to create a fully formed human specimen.
Book 1 - The Noble Art of Pugilism
The noble art of pugilism as refined by the Marquis of Queensway. High and low "knuckle bruising" jab using or .
High and low "gut busting" hook or .
A block can be broken with a "jaw-buster" uppercut, and or, "an overhead chop", and .
Though generally frowned upon, for a crunching headbutt press and together.
For those of a cowardly nature, blocks can be performed , high, or , low.
Press to cycle through a selection of camera views.
This house belonged to Isibod Brunel, noted industrialist and socialist, he was one of the richest men of his age. He made his fortune producing mechanical toys. After a number of unexplained accidents he was thrown to his death whilst demonstrating the safety of his infamous steam powered rocking pony. Many monuments exist throughout the city, and he is buried within Whitechapel cemetery.
Book 1 - Satellite.
In the next few years, giant space beacons will orbit the earth ushering in a new and glorious age of radio-phonic communication. The telephone and the wireless will be made obsolete by the introduction of small hats, that beam the information direct to the brain.
Book 2 - Contact puzzle.
The celestial grammar horn.
In the quest to expand the Empire, the greatest scientific minds have devised the celestial grammar horn.
It will blast out the national anthem to the farthest reaches of outer space.
When the aliens hear such a wonderfully stirring piece they are sure to have no qualms about pledging their allegiance to our glorious Queen Victoria.
Book 3 - Moon exhibit.
By the year 1910, the moon will become part of the great colonial empire.
Tourists will go on daytrips, where they will be able to visit the countless gift shops and tea-rooms.
The more intrepid will be able to go on Safari's to hunt various vicious moon beasts that litter its cheesy surface.
For a sneak preview, gaze in wonder at this accurate reconstruction of the lunar world.
Book 4 - Time Machine.
Kift's Amazing Confabulating Chrono-chair. The Chrono-chair prototype, patented by one Hamilton Kift, is a revolutionary machine that enables a person to part the veils of time and visit either past or future. Imagine all the undiscovered wonders of the world that the machine could show us, if only it worked! The Professor himself says, "Yes unfortunately it's true, everything I've sent through time has always returned, only somewhat runnier than when it left."
Book 1 - Lifestyles of the Pharaohs
Courtship and Consorts
Although viewed as Gods and Goddesses a Pharaoh's life was often a short and arduous affair.
Many, such as Ramesses II, would take a number of mistresses as well as a wife. Keeping all of the women happy could prove such an arduous task that many were driven to an early grave.
A royal mistress could be plucked from any level of Egyptian society. If a slave girl caught a Pharaoh's eye, she could quickly be elevated to the Royal court. This was a fate not without complications, however.
Due to the Pharaoh's intense interest in mummification, many on their deathbeds took their mistresses with them to ease their existence in the afterlife.
Many examples of Consort tombs exist, the greatest of which has been re-built brick by brick in the Great Museum. This the Tomb of Abu Simbel contains the mortal remains of Princess Kiya, Ramesses II's last mistress. The parchments of the time, reveal that the King died before the relationship was consummated. One can only imagine her feelings, as the joy at being plucked from abject poverty was replaced by the misery of playing Nurse-maid to a randy eighty year old and how the joy of his death must have been replaced with the misery of following him to the grave.
Book 2 - The Diary of Prof. H.KIFT
January 10th, 1878
This morning an unexpected caller presented himself at my door. It was none other than Lord Palethorn! I hadn't seem him since his expulsion from the Magic Circle, the previous month and quite frankly I had hoped never to see the fellow again.
The embarrassing details of that incident I recounted in my Journal for 1877. Far from being contrite or ashamed he seemed rather bullish, for a man ostracised for abusing his wand.
Straight away he asked me to accompany him on a trip to the north. When I said I would do no such thing, he laughed and began to tell me of "the unique opportunity", he was offering. Very quickly he explained he had found the last resting-place of certain pages of the Zarok spell book.
He even had a map and this was where I came in. He needed a translator, for despite his outward manner I fear he is not possessed of too great an education and with my knowledge of ancient texts, I was just the man for him. This astounding news confounded me. He left giving me until dawn to reach a decision.
I have thought long and hard about his proposition and, although I am unsure of the man, the chance to find the legendary spell-book is too great an allure. I agreed to the proposal, we set forth, a week today, travelling to the remote Hebrides. N.B remind cook to pack ointment.
I find myself in the Bonny Prince Charlie, a Coastal inn some 80 miles west of Inverness. Tomorrow we set sail for the Hebrides. The weather forecast is bad and as I look from my window across the sea, a great foreboding steals up upon me, as a real as the storm clouds themselves, that at this very moment roll in from the East blotting the Stars from the sky.
We have set up camp for the night. It is a relief to be once again on dry land. The journey was bad, as if the ocean itself was trying to bar our progress. For a long while it was touch and go whether we would be drowned at sea, or smashed upon the rocks themselves.
If I weren't a man of science I would have feared that something was trying to stop us from reaching our journey's end. Still tomorrow we set out in search of the burial grounds shown on the map
Now I have the map the right way up, the route is clear to me. We reached the tomb on the Northern point of the island at Midday, tomorrow we enter, not knowing whether the Greatest prize in history awaits us on the other side of its stony door.
Having priblems adjisting to my new mechanocal hands, will recoint my story later.
April 1st, 1878
Hands fully functional.
It is indeed fitting that today is All Fools' Day, as I begin to recount the final stage of our ill-fated trip. My memories of the time are now thankfully vague and I have difficulty seperating the real from the imaginings of a fever-wracked brain. We entered the tomb and discovered the Spellbook I am sure of that. Whoever sealed the book in this resting-place must have meant for all eternity, for no sooner had Palethorn placed his hands upon it, the room began to collapse. The last thing I remember clearly is Palethorn pushing me aside as the great tomb door began to lower.
I scrambled for the exit too late. The door sliding shut trapping me in the darkness, my hands crushed beyond repair. The next two weeks are but a fevered dream, how long I crawled in the darkness of how I escaped I do not know. I am reliably informed I was spotted at the water's edge by local fishermen and transported back to Inverness to recover from my grevious injuries. Now safely back in London, I fear for the future, I can only wonder what Palethorn intends to do with the book. Only one thing is certain, when he does surface again,
I will have my revenge.
Professor Hamilton Kift