BROG
Brog, whose presence would be essential to the return of magic in
1067, was a rare hairless blue-skinned
brogmoid born circa 867 GUE, who
resembled a cross between a troll and bigfoot. Living in a sod
cave, Brog loved to pick up rocks,
smash rocks, throw rocks, and of course, eat rocks (those with a creamy
quartz filling were his favorite flavor). ("Brog like rocks! Mmm.
Rocks. Brog thinking about rocks. Brog thinking about rocks and how
nice they are. Nice for his tummy.") His favorite color was rocks. His
favorite game was rocks. His best friends were rocks. Brogmoids love to
pitch rocks more than anything else. It was not advised to ask him
things such as a complicated physics problem about the nature of
rock throwing, or even how many fingers he has on his right
hand. ("Which right hand?") He loved all creatures,
especially little animals, and he was able to tame any animal. He could
read any
animal environment and immediately knew who has been there, and who
they fear will come there--because he could speak the creature
languages.
The brogmoid's powers, and sphere of knowledge, corresponded to the
powers of
Deep Magic, the magic of the
Underground.
The magic of the
Underground
involved transmutation and change. Brog understood these spells
and could recognize a shape-changer anywhere. In 1157 GUE, he was about
200 years old (which was enough time for one to have grasp hold of the
entire workings of magic by now), but was one of the worst at magic. He
was even worse with magical objects and was terrible at providing magic
advice.
Towards the
mid-tenth century, he was employed by Madame
Sophia Hamilton of the
Frigid River Branch Conservatory for a
zorkmid a week to attend basic
needs, such as the refiling of her gas lamp and cleaning the key slot.
While
Syovar III was Vice Regent (c. 997~1047), Brog became part his honor guard.
During
the
Second Inquisition, Brog was a member of the
Inquisition Guard.
When a certain
griff was about to be
totemized in 1037, he felt badly
for the creature. But this brogmoid, in particular, possessed a
singular, if instinctual,
compassion that made it physically impossible for him to sit and watch
while a harmless and defenseless creature like the griff was tormented
for pleasure. This big-hearted brogmoid was one of the nicest fellows a
griff could ever hope to meet; in fact, there was no creature, great or
small, that would refuse to converse with him, no matter how dull the
conversation would invariably be. Already the brogmoid had shown the
griff many preferences while in jail.
Brog
leaped up out of the crowd and, ripping a massive iron tube off the
side of the Totemizer, knocked a guard down into the machine instead of
the griff. And, for one tense moment,
Yannick himself wobbled on the
edge of the Totemizer; he would have fallen inside, if he had not
caught the guard with his hands, and knocked him into the machine by
way of keeping himself from falling. Chaos ensued, and when the chase
was over and done, it took six men (each twice the size of Brog) to
hold down the wrathful, growling brogmoid, while a seventh stuffed the
griff down the hatch.
As you can imagine, Brog made a quick
visit, the next day, to the court. The brogmoid was forever in trouble
as an Inquisition Guard, seeing as his locker was full of all sorts of
forbidden things the prisoners would implore him to bring them. Not
much harm it could do in there, he reasoned (if you could call it
that), though personally he did not see what was so appetizing about a
honeycake with a metal file or skeleton key stuck in the middle. When
he tried them, they got terribly stuck in his teeth. But if someone
needed something, however much their tastes differed from his, he would
do it for them. He was just that sort of a fellow.
That did not
make much of a defense in his speedy trial in the Court of the
Inquisition, but Brog did not understand much of what was said in there
to begin with. When asked, “How do you plead?” the brogmoid looked at
the magistrate like he was stupid, and said, “Like this.” Then he got
down on his hands and knees and said, “Please, Please, oh I beg you.”
The rest of the trial was executed along those same lines.
When
he was finally taken to the Totemizer machine, it was in a massive
metal collar, and two sets of chains. Twenty guards hoisted him up to
the top of the machine, and the Yannick did not waste a minute
dawdling, this time around. Despite all of the precautions that were
taken to ensure his capture, Brog somehow managed to break free from
the guards and escaped his imprisonment, but his fate as a
totem was
inevitable.
In
1043, that same half-witted member of the already
half-witted brogmoid species, accidentally broke into the
Steppinthrax
Monastery. Seeking for a place to hide from the Inquisition, he had
squeezed up an air-duct from the
Great Underground Subway station
below. This quarter-witted creature activated the Totemizer machine and
crawled inside, believing that the machine was some sort of cavern
("Pretty Buttons. Pretty buttons not nice for tummy. Pretty Buttons
make big machine go BOOM!"). A
whirr… and smoke… and sparks… and a subsequently, the machine dumped
Brog at the gates of
Hades. There he would sit for a long time thinking
about rocks.
On the 34th of
Frobuary, 1067,
AFGNCAAP met up with three other traveling companions who wished to
join the quest. All three were one-time magical creatures who had been
stripped of their magical faculties and imprisoned within totems. The
three were none other than the beautiful and telepath
Lucy Flathead
(within the Steppinthrax Monastery), the thick-fitted, all-brawn
no-brain brogmoid Brog (within the gates of Hades), and the whiny,
neurotic griff (at the Secret Entrance to the Underground), who
suffered a dragon inferiority complex and wanted desperately to avoid
physical pain. Together, they formed an unlikely band of adventurers
who joined forced to recover the three lost relics, destroy the Grand
Inquisitor, and finally return magic to its rightful place in the
Empire.
The group dynamic was interesting, to say the least;
Dalboz of Gurth, another of their companions, was hungry and bitter and betrayed, skeptical as to whether the
Grand Inquisitor could even be stopped, and in as foul a mood as any
fellow stuffed in a lantern of that size was likely to be. Dalboz
oversaw the posse with what limited respect a bodiless voice could
command. Lucy, for herself, was not accustomed to taking
orders
from a man, and found the arcane nature of Dalboz’s magical knowledge,
when combined with the insane nature of his utilitarian uselessness,
somewhat aggravating.
The
big-hearted Brog was the warrior of the party, and was intensely loyal
to AFGNCAAP and the other companions. He was gifted
with a keen sense of right and wrong, an overwhelming compassion, and a
sense of honor that was only slaked by revenge. He had an instinctive
inner compass when in the Underground, so he was able to help the party
from
getting too lost in that region. Although
the griff spent a lot of time and wit haranguing the muddle-brained
Brog, the two were friends, if opposites. The griff liked nothing
better than to order
about Brog, duping him into performing his own share of the work and
more, and then blaming Brog when these suggestions backfired. Brog did
not mind; he simply liked to talk with the twittering birds and the
chirping insects, and instinctively find his way throughout the
Underground, as he had since he was a pup. He was content just to look
at Lucy, though more than anything he wished he could touch her. Though
he lived in a sod cave, rather than a glittering nest, Brog
loved jewels and metals as much as the griff, and they tended to bicker
over these. But the brogmoid always backed down when the griff offered
him a
nice rock.
To
retrieve the three artifacts, it was necessary to send the spirits of
the three totemized victims through three
time tunnels, which had been
erected back in the days of
Dimwit Flathead for the very purpose of
restoring magic to
Zork. The griff went back in time and recovered the
Coconut of Quendor straight from the mouth of the
Watchdragon. Lucy
Flathead was sent to
Port Foozle in the year 931. Brog returned to the
White House shortly before 966 GUE, where he took two
torches for
companions ("Like wood no talk much better."), broke through the front
door ("Boards hutning house! Leave house alone, nails!" and "Big
toothpick, good for pebbles in teeth."), descended into the
grue
breeding ground, cooked a hard-boiled grue egg, retrieved the
Skull of Yoruk by bashing the shrine holding it with a board, and
returned to the present day in the
walking castle.
On
the following day (1067-02-35), AFGNCAAP took the totems with him to
the
Flathead Mesa, where the three relics were all placed within the
radio tower there. AFGNCAAP quickly cast MAXOV upon the tower to bind
the energies. The resultant blast threw AFGNCAAP, the totems, and the
Grand Inquisitor from the tower while sending a shockwave of magic
across the land. Exposed to the burst of magic energies, the totems
sprung back to life. Brog's fall was broken by his head. Magic had
returned to Zork and the Inquisition had ended. Thus the
Second Age of
Magic dawned.
A
majority of the Second Age of Magic was plagued by the
Great Monster
Uprising. Throughout this chaos, Brog and the
Fourth Dungeon Master
concluded the
Magic Wars, an epic confrontation between the
Eastlands (the good guys)
and the
Westlands (the bad guys). No details save a fragmentary mention
of this conflict have survived.
TRIVIA:
SOURCE(S):
Zork: Grand Inquisitor (game, timeline, official guide book), Zork:
Nemesis, Activision's public announcement about the last two games of
the Magic Wars trilogy. |