It's a g-g-g-g-g-g-GHOST! Let's Play... The Uninvited

In a revelation that should come as little surprise to anybody who read my earlier LP of it, I loved (and still love) the NES port of Shadowgate. This, despite the fact that it had several (well, many) puzzles that either made no sense at all, or were so obtuse that it would require deductive strides long enough to cross an ocean to solve. That being said, the spiritual sequel, The Uninvited, was always supposed to be the superior in that regard. Not that I would know;



You see, if some parts of Shadowgate were enough to give me nightmares as a child, everything about this game was dedicated to having my 7-year-old self run shrieking from the room (other culprits of this: The Sun from Mario 3, Ganons laugh from Zelda 2, and Baron von Blubba from Bubble Bobble). Anyhow, now we shall put to the test whether (allegedly) superior game design can stand up to nostalgia!

Let’s blow in the cartridge and get going, shall we! All together now! Hah-POOF!


shadowy figure appearing in the road in front of you. You heard your sister cry out as you swerved the car into this tree. You realize that you are alone; your sister must have gone for help. The smell of gasoline fills the air, you must have punctured the tank. You pry yourself free of the steering wheel, intent on finding your sister!



You groan and rub your forehead. The impact knocked you out briefly, during which time you had a curiously vivid dream of being an adventurer wandering around a wizards fortress, which segued into a considerably less vivid dream where you were some kind of weird cucumber-man being pestered by a creepy little persimmon who kept dropping all your stuff.

You make a mental note that falling asleep in a car that has a gas leak is, under the best of conditions, the type of thing you’d best avoid from this point forward; and take immediate stock of the situation; Your sister left you, a faceless, nameless traveler of non-specific gender asleep while concussed. In a car that has a gas-leak.

This point is a bit strange since you were fairly certain you had a name, face and gender prior to being knocked out. You double check that you still have a face by looking in the mirror.



You don’t comment on it but, yes, you still have a face. That’s good. All right, you double check behind you, and put the car into reverse, hoping to drive around the neighborhood. Your sister couldn’t have gotten far.



Nuts, it would appear that having a no-longer functional car puts you at a disadvantage for driving around; you’ll have to go out on foot. As a safety precaution, you take the keys out of the ignition. Granted there is very little chance of anyone taking your car while it’s a smoking ruin, and even if there was, the crime rate tends to be pretty low in shadowy, isolated communities. It tends to be ESPECIALLY low in the ones where a single foreboding mansion dominates the landscape.



The key is stuck, sadly, and you can’t remove it without breaking it off in the ignition. Oh well, you decide to compose a short note to any would-be thieves, reading along the lines of “THIS CAR IS LIABLE TO EXPLODE SOON, DON’T STEAL IT PLZ”



Fire from the gas tank engulfs the car!



You wake up with a start! You groan and rub your forehead. The impact knocked you out briefly, during which time you had a curiously vivid dream of being an adventurer wandering around a wizards fortress, which segued into a considerably less vivid dream where you were some kind of weird cucumber-man being pestered by a creepy little persimmon who kept dropping all your stuff, which then became a more vivid dream that you were sitting around in a car, pointlessly wasting time until such point as it exploded. You make a mental note to see a psychologist after you find your sister, since having dreams like that probably indicates you’re in some degree of mental stress.


At least it will save you the cost of a tow. You find yourself standing in front of a great old mansion. It gives you the creeps.

It’s a good thing you remembered that your car was recently recalled due to a minor defect that causes the vehicle to violently explode at low-speed, non-fatal collisions. Then you slap your forehead in agitation, realizing that you left all the medication that keeps your rampant kleptomania in check, and prevents you from hearing the multitudinous voices that give you instructions every third or fourth room you enter, in the car. Oh well.

You decide to enter the massive, foreboding mansion, hoping that they have a phone, or at least one of those Taxi-hotlines that some malls and grocery stores have. As a show of
Good faith to the occupants you decide to open their mailbox and hand-deliver the letters inside.

Besides the usual clutter (a bill addressed to the wrong house, and a note thanking your for purchasing The Great Underground Empire of Zork) you find an envelope with a pendant and a letter. You take the Pendant due to your previously mentioned kleptomania;


The Door of the Mansion opens and dares you to enter! Could your sister be in there?

You realize that this is a pretty big leap of logic, since the door didn’t open until you put on the amulet, and the amulet was still in the envelope outside the mansion. But intuition was never your strong suit, so the only place where your sister couldn’t possibly be is going to be the only place you’re going to search. You open up the letter and read it, hoping that it could maybe give an explanation as to why jewelry would act as an automatic door opener.


My health prevents me from aiding you in your battle against the evil Dracon. You teach your students well; they become too powerful for their own good. Enclosed is an amulet that should look familiar. Wear this charm and think of me. The Undead should surely fear it. Still the evil, my friend; Set it free for the sake of the family. Fare thee well.

The letter you stole did a fairly poor job of explaining much to you, but then, you’re not it’s intended recipient, so you lack some context. Apparently some jerk named Dracon is up to some kind of mischief, and it ends with a request to “free the evil”, which is a bit confusing since the rest of the note is well-wishing to destroy this evil Dracon character. You also assume that the door to the mansion must be undead, and was recoiling in fear from the pendant, thereby poorly explaining why it opened when you touched it.

You shrug at this and head into the opened mansion. Nobody asked you to come, you are…








This foyer is a large and luxurious room. Still, it seems strangely oppressive.

You whistle, impressed, at the room, and promptly set about seeing what isn’t bolted down and is capable of being discreetly fit into your coat.



Apparently whoever owns this place was intelligent enough to bury anything of value in the room in side the furnishings themselves. You don’t have any means to tear open the couch right now, so you temporarily leave the couch intact. But you are faced with a decision;

There are two Unlocked Doors in the Foyer; Do you

A. Enter the right door
B. Enter the left door
C. Punch the couch

Death Count: 1

Punch the couch, obviously.

I'm looking forward to see how many interesting ways you can kill yourself.

Punch the couch, then stab yourself with the envelope.

I liked this game okay but Shadowgate had way more style.

You can't give us the option of couch punching and not end up with a thoroughly pummeled couch. That's just not how these things work.

Well, I've played Shadowgate on the NES and liked it...but as soon as I started this NES port, the horrible unmelodic music pierced my ears and made me reconsider playing this game on the NES.

There are many other ports of Uninvited out there.

In the Mac/Amiga/ST version it was your brother who goes missing - wonder why they thought that was worth changing?

The thing that bothered me about this game(or at least the version I played) was the strict time limit, especially as it doesn't even clue you in to how long you've got. What's the point of designing a big mansion with lots of rooms and stuff to look at if they don't even give you a chance to see it all?

Also, I would concur with the general consensus re: couch pummeling.

Why must we resort to violence? What did the couch do to earn such punishment? Surely, its cushions feel pain, its frame creaks, and its springs compress like any other human being's.

The Speak command is there for a reason. When the supernatural arises, only diplomacy will help, not fisticuffs. Speak, and the bounties of the couch shall be yours, and no one else's.

Beat the shit out of the couch to relieve some of that mental stress you've got. The last thing you want wandering around a haunted house is to have visions of perturbing persimmons threatening you with vaguely horrifying violence.

HIT SELF

Boss, I'm scared!

Agreed. Also, the Mac version was a lot more scary (lack of the NES' pastel colors? More detailed descriptions? I was younger when I played it?)

Punch the couch in the metaphorical nose to establish dominance! Show that couch who's boss!

And while you're at it, Punch everything else that stands in our way. We're on a quest, dudes. We need to establish dominance to everything, living or none, that dares so much as breath. Or not, as the situation warrants.

Search for your sister? I thought you might do something more practical like, say, apologize to the owner of the house you just drove into.

Question: Is that supposed to be a pentagram on the rug or a symbol for the US airforce?

Look under the rug, they always hide something there!

It's clear we've wandered into Captain America's country house.

You obviously don't know how these sort of games work.

Anyhow, just so I don't end up artificially inflating my post count, you can just assume that whenever you give the option to HIT something, I'ma go ahead and say you should do just that.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have presented such a choice when the one option was so very, very right and true.

=================================

You’ve had it up to HERE with that smarmy chairs attitude. You walk up to it, displaying your clenched fist and speak to it.

“Excuse me sir,” you say to the couch, “Would you like a glass of PUNCH?”



Unless you count your rapidly developing sense of self-satisfaction. In fact, you are feeling so smug that you feel an overwhelming sense to hit yourself, just to teach yourself some humility.



Of course, you never mention what this great idea was but trust me. It was a great one.

You turn back to the more pressing issue: Whether to turn Left or Right.

Heroes go Left!

I don't know if you're a hero.

If it's really Captain America's house, shouldn't you go Right?

MOVE FIREPLACE

Take the rug!

I mean, go left.

USE TORCH ON RUG.

What?

>Kill yourself

>BREATHE AIR
>DIGEST LUNCH

I vote right too. Anything to get us nearer the screaming southern belle sketelton promised on the cover.

She's on the left, if I do correctly recall.

It's possible that I don't.

go left!

We must go to the right.

Maybe all y'all should have voted before I resumed playing the game!

===============

The ceaseless jabbering in your head tells you that heading to the left is the proper way to go. So you comply by heading to the left.



Truly there is nothing more oppressive and frightening then a spacious hallway, painted a soothing shade of blue. It causes your blood to chill just standing in it. The hall contains doors which are described as “Opened by pushing or pulling it”, “Old and cracked” and “covered in dust and spider-webs”. Rather then waiting forever for the chattering in your head to reach a decision, you decide to head through the spider-door.


The woman wears the dress of a southern belle.

No sooner do you touch the knob, but a woman appears before you. One dressed in what may-or-may-not be anachronistic clothes, depending on what year this adventure is supposed to take place in.

You’re not one to shy away from presumably spectral ladies, so you decide to chat her up.


Thank you for coming back to me, my love. You will be mine forever.

My but she’s mighty friendly. You decide to give her a playful punch on the shoulder, as if to say “I’m the kind of questing hero who playfully punches women in the shoulder”.


She turns to face you. Her face is devoid of all flesh. You are frozen with horror as she begins ripping you apart. She laughs hysterically as your body slumps to the ground.

The next thing you know, you’re re-entering the room, slightly confused at the fact that you’re alive, seeing as how a ghost-lady just tore you limb-from-limb. You decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth and resume your explorations.

You resume trying to get through the spidery door, but the mysterious Lady again appears to rip you apart, apparently not satisfied with the results of her previous mutilation of you.

By the third time you mysteriously re-enter the room, you decide to not enter the spidery-door. You try for the swinging one instead…. which still causes the Lady to materialize and tear you asunder.

Growingly slightly tired of your repeated deaths, you decide to instead ascend the staircase. The Lady doesn’t seem to mind or notice.



What the second floor hallway lacks in murderous debutants, it more then makes up for in mounted-fish! You attempt to liberate the fish-plaque from its spot on the wall, but sadly cannot. Instead, you turn towards the doors, close your eyes, and pick one at random.


You feel very, very weak. Pressure begins to bear down on you!

You find yourself in a bedroom, which is fairly unspectacular, except for the god-awful color scheme. And the strength-sapping aspects of the room aren’t entirely pleasant either. You decide to swipe the pillows, and fit them into your preposterously deep coat pockets. The diary catches your eye, mainly due to its many various stains. Well, you already stole the owners mail, jewelry and pillows, it’s not like reading the diary is going to be an especially large faux-pas at this point.



You put back the crazy-persons diary, but recall the letter you “found” earlier, and assume that the diary was owned by this Dracon character. You also take the diary, and the candle sitting next to it. You then open the desk and find a scroll inside it.

You memorize the magic words. Ah!! Scroll 1 disappeared.

You’re sure that the DollDoll spell will serve you well in the future. Probably once, and once alone. You are now faced with entirely too many choices to make on your own; do you:

1. Enter the rear door of Dracons room?
2. Go through one of the other doors in the upstairs hall?
3. Go through the right door in the entranceway?

Death Count: 4