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Kingdom of Hamil

Acornsoft, Topologika info 1988

Jonathan Partington info
T/SAL info
Amstrad CPC info, Amstrad PCW, Archimedes info, BBC/Electron info, Mainframe info, PC, Spectrum
Fantasy, misc.
Entered by:
dave, Gunness, iamaran, Starscream



All your life you'd known there was something special about you, that you were extra-ordinary in some way. When you were young you'd chanced to hear unbelievable rumours, and, sometimes, sininster strangers seemed to be watching you. Finally, you found out just what was special about you: you were the rightful heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Hamil. But by then it was too late. You'd been kidnapped...

Years passed, and the rescue you dreamed of failed to materialise. Finally, older and stronger, you escaped and, riding a mighty black stallion, set out to reclaim your throne, travelling for many a day and night, through swamps, jungles and icy wastes across deserts, knowing that for every step forward you took, your enemies would take two...

But luck was with you and, after many days in the saddle, you reached the neighborhood of your Kingdom, Hamil, and took shelter in a primitive chapel, desparately needing a good night's sleep before the next bizarre stage of your journey...

"Perhaps I was fated to come to this particular place", you told the damp walls of the chapel, as sleep, like a black tide, began to sweep over you, and you dreamed again of the legends that said that one day you would return to Hamil to claim your rightful inheritance...

Hamil - A land of sorcery and romance; of strange but loyal beings; of immense fountains; of castles, and a museum filled with bizarre antiquities which only a king could put to use. A land where the powers of darkness always threaten; of ancient and unusual mazes, constructed by powerful wizards in bygone days, waiting to ensnare even the most ingenious explorer. A land of mysterious beasts eager to exterminate you if you stay in the same place too long. Where a mighty vampire haunts underground caves. Where creatures wait, in deep and dismal pits, ready to grab the unwary passer-by. Where ancient spirits in huge rolling cornfields serve long-forgotten deities. Where something is spoken about only in hushed tones, something known only as the 'snark'...

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