Ultima VI: Clair de Rune

Leveling up at the Shrine of Valor.

 
Shrines have always played a big part of the Ultima universe, essentially forming the series' religious system. Ultima is notable for featuring no gods, only abstract virtues and principles. In fact, it's possible that the word "god" or "gods" never appears in any of the Ultima games, though I'd have to do some sleuthing on spoiler sites to verify (someone else may want to tackle this). It's particularly notable that the Avatar introduced in Ultima IV is not seen by the public as the avatar of a deity, like Vishnu, but the Avatar of Virtue, indicating that to Britannians, virtues themselves are as worthy of worship as personal gods. I'm not sure if there's a direct analogue in any Earth religion.

We first saw shrines in Ultima III, in Ambrosia (one wonders where this place disappeared to), where they served the Ultima VI purpose of raising attributes. I suppose you could argue that the various signposts in the first Ultima are a kind of proto-shrine, too. The Shrines of Virtue first appeared in Ultima IV. According to the mage named Xiao, who lives near the Lycaeum, it was the Council of Wizards who created them in the first place. I guess this makes sense, though I don't remember it ever coming up in a previous game. 

Knowing that the shrines (and therefore the model of virtues) were created by living Britannians removes some of their mystique, although it does make sense given the alternate principle/virtue systems that we'll encounter later in Ultima VI and Ultima VII. A long time ago, I blogged about how when I was a child, I was raised without religion, and Ultima IV effectively filled that void. The eight virtues, flowing from the three principles of virtue, seemed like such a tidy and obvious package that they might as well have been handed down by the creator of the universe himself. Later, when I encountered alternate systems, both in-universe (e.g., gargoyles, Ophidians) and without (e.g., Ben Franklin), I had a kind-of collapse of faith, much like followers of religions must feel when they encounter persuasive counter-arguments to their doctrine.

A bard named Mandrake has an alternate take, much as in the satirical Ultima IV, Part 2.

 
Sometime before my arrival in Britannia, the Shrines of Virtue were invaded and occupied by gargoyles, who (for some reason) put the shrine's associated moon stone on it and protected it with a force field. Using the associated rune at the shrine is the only way to drop the force field, collect the stone, and use the shrine for meditation (which, among other things, levels you up). So far, nothing in the game has told me that I really have to do this to win, but I vaguely recall that I need all the moon stones somehow at the end of the game.

I might have something wrong in that paragraph, though. Perhaps it's not the gargoyles who erected the force fields around the shrines. I say this because they don't seem to have occupied the Shrine of Spirituality, but the force field and stone are there, just the same. Did the Britannians erect the force fields to protect the shrines? I might have missed some dialogue.

The Avatar admires his rune collection.

Early in the game, I learned that Lord British had given each of the Runes of Virtue to the mayors of the associated cities. The mayors, in turn, had been senselessly careless with them. The mayor of Jhelom gave it to an idiot who lost it the first night he had it. The mayor Britain gave it to a three-year-old child. The mayor of Trinsic just left it out in the open for anyone to steal. This pattern repeated for all eight cities. Fortunately, no one just chucked it in a lake, or I suppose the land would be doomed.

I'm amused by how unreasonably proud the mayors are that their cities were "entrusted" with the runes, as if Lord British made a careful survey of the virtue levels of each city, instead of just giving the Rune of Justice to Yew, the City of Justice, which happens to be the closest city to the Shrine of Justice, by default. Like there was a chance that Trinsic was going to end up with all of them.

It would have been a bit of a slap in the face if you weren't.

 
Anyway, the quests to recover the moonstones range from goofy to fun. Here's a quick rundown:

The Rune of Honesty was given to an honest man named Beyvin, live-in boyfriend of a fortune teller named Penumbra, whose house had all those force fields at the entrance. After I'd bought "Dispel Field" off a nearby mage named Xiao, I made my way through the foyer of Penumbra's house and spoke to her. She said that Beyvin had been more honest than someone wanted to hear, and that person had killed him. (No more word on the killer; just as in Skara Brae, I guess it's unsolvable.) The rune was buried with him in the catacombs beneath the city.

There were signs that people had visited the catacombs regularly, leaving flowers for the dead and such, so it was odd that the entrance was so hard to find--a ladder behind a secret door in the pub, blocked by several barrels. I had to break one just to get by.

The catacombs were full of skeletons in alcoves, and searching them produced various weapons, armor, and other items. It was here that I found all the extra gold nuggets that led to my returning to the Mint to trade them (recounted last time). I'm not sure if looting the dead produces a loss of karma or not, but it's not against my personal ethos.

Who the hell gets buried with a stick of butter?

There were a couple areas of swamp in the catacombs, and I only had one pair of swamp boots, so I had to cross by having one character wear them across, then take them off and toss them back to the next character. It was a bit tedious, so I was delighted a few hours later when I found someone selling them in Yew.

Passing a single pair of swamp boots across the swamp.

I had to fight down several levels of catacombs to find Beyvin's tomb, only to discover the door was locked. However, a note outside indicated that his cousin, Manrel, had visited recently. I returned to the surface and got the key from Manrel. Manrel made me promise to leave more flowers at the tomb, which I did.

The rune was buried with the body. I had to fight a battle with a random assortment of fighters and mages on the way out. I'm not sure what they were doing down here.

I received the Rune of Compassion early in the game. The mayor of Britain had given it to the bards at the conservatory, who had in turn entrusted it to the care of Ariana, a toothless, cloying child. She wouldn't give me the rune unless I got permission from her mother. I should have just pried it from her stunted little fingers and taught her a lesson about how the world really works.

The Rune of Valor had been trusted by the mayor to Nomaan, the local armorer and winner of a tournament.

"The Avatar's sword made a soft 'shring' as it left its sheath. Zellivan's smile turned to an expression of horror as he soon found the tip of the razor-sharp blade pressing into his throat. 'I'm on a quest to save the world,' the Avatar explained, his tone making it clear that he was done brooking fools. 'Perhaps you'd like to stop with the puns and just tell me where the rune is.'"

Unfortunately, Nomaan didn't have intelligence to match his martial skill, and during his victory celebration, he dropped it on the floor and a rat carried it into the walls of the pub. You could see the little mouse hole where he'd gone. I think the player should have had to figure out the solution on his own, but unfortunately a little serving girl in the pub had to spell out the whole thing.

For a game that otherwise has good graphics, that's a very-poorly-drawn tray of drinks.

I trudged back to Lord British's castle and added Sherry the Mouse to my party, then returned to Jhelom. In solo mode, Sherry could go through the mouse hole and find the rune--along with a Ring of Invisibility and a block of cheese, which I let her eat.

I was enough of a role-player that I returned to the castle before dismissing Sherry from my party. It seemed unlikely that a mouse could survive the journey from Jhelom. She'd have to stow away on a ship or something.

The Rune of Justice was buried with the former mayor of Yew (as in Moonglow, I guess everyone assumed they'd never need it again), but a thief stole it from the grave. He'd been caught and locked up, but he refused to tell anyone where he'd hidden it.

I used "Dispel Magic" to wake her up in bed and talk to her. I get sick of waiting for people to get out of bed on their own.

I had to get Lenora's permission to get the keys from the jailer to visit Boskin in his cell. Boskin pleaded that he was just trying to feed his family and would return the rune if he could be let go. Lenora balked at that and said that Boskin was a drifter who didn't have a family. When I returned to Boskin, he confessed that he was lying.

You are on such thin ice, my friend.

Finally, he told me the rune's location--hidden beneath a potted plant in the tavern--if I promised not to give it back to the town.

It's at this point that I'm obliged to note that Yew, despite its enlightened dedication to "justice," features a jail cell in which a child is locked up . . .

I guess the child is a "peasant," so that's okay.

. . . plus stocks and a guillotine.

So Britannia imprisons children, subjects people to torture, and still has capital punishment! Boy, this makes me glad to live in the 21st century in the United States . . . of . . . you know, let's just move on.

I already had a bead on the Rune of Sacrifice from my previous visit to Minoc. It was in the hands of the Artisan's Guild, and they'd let me have it if I became a member of the guild. This, in turn, required me to memorize "Stones" and make a set of panpipes from a fresh Yew board. I first had to visit Yew and get the wood from a lumberjack in the forest . . .

. . . then take it to a sawmill near Minoc and have it turned into a board. Selganor had insisted that I create the panpipes myself, but Julia ended up doing the entire thing for me.

Or any adventurer just pretending to be a bard, I hope.

Gwenno had taught me "Stones," so I went and played it in front of Selganor, was admitted to the Guild of Artisans, and got the Rune of Sacrifice.

It's a good thing the next one was easy, because I was done jumping through hoops to save everyone's life. The Rune of Honor was just sitting on a pedestal in the middle of Trinsic for anyone to come and take.

The mayor explained that the city's residents are so honorable that none would think of taking the rune for unworthy reasons. And it's not like there's a band of thieving gypsies camped just a little ways to the north.

Trinsic, incidentally, is the only walled city in this game, though all of them were walled in Ultimas IV and V. There are only two entrances, with guards patrolling them constantly. The walls feature no less than eight turrets with cannons. It's literally the only Britannian city prepared for a gargoyle invasion. Perhaps they should have been given all eight runes.

I'm not sure I've shown an image of a secret door yet. Can you see it just to my east?

The Rune of Spirituality was with Marney, the tragic orphan in Skara Brae. Her father had been entrusted with the rune, and he passed it on to her in a basket. Finding it was just a matter of searching a chest in her house.

Finally, the Rune of Humility was in New Magincia, given by the mayor to the most humble person in the town. I have to say that the Magincians have always creeped me out a bit with their cultish dedication to humility, always tripping over themselves to show how self-effacing they are.

Oh, come on. Get over yourself.

In the typical Magincian paradox, the most humble person was the one person who didn't prattle on so much about humility: Conor Starfalcon, a knight-turned-fisherman. Once I gave his name to the mayor, I got the rune and was out of the odd little compound.

Right. I'm sure the profit margins on liquor had nothing to do with it.

After I recovered each rune, I went to the associated shrine and fought the gargoyle occupiers. They got more difficult as time went by. The Shrine of Compassion had only three wingless gargoyles and one winged one (only the winged ones can cast spells), but by the time I cleared the Shrine of Humility, I was fighting three or four winged gargoyles and half a dozen wingless ones. In fact, I didn't complete that last battle. My party was so damaged that I eventually opened a moongate and escaped. But killing the gargoyles isn't necessary to free the shrine, and if you remove the force fields, the gargoyles are gone when you return.

"Liberating" the shrine is simply a process of using the rune and speaking the mantra. The force field drops, and I could collect the moonstones.

I confess that I haven't been going through the role-playing motions of asking townsfolk for the mantras. I remember them all from the two previous games. The one time I did think to try, I got some lip from the mayor of Yew.

I suppose she has a good point.

I now have a bag full of moonstones and a bag full of runes and no clue what to do with either. I'm sure it will become clear. To close, I want to note that according to Daver, the bell-ringer in Britain, the runes have "a symbol on one side, and a letter on the other." He muses that they would "probably spell something out if you put 'em all on a necklace."

Yes, I believe they would spell out INFINITY, which makes me wonder why I had to record all of those visions at the shrines in Ultima IV instead of just looking at the damned runes in my hand.