MAIN STORY OF THE GAME:

Winwood, the main character in FATE - Gates of Dawn, is a man in the best years of his life and a proud owner of a small record shop on fifth street. His business cannot exactly be described as a gold mine, so since Winwood can certainly use each cent he makes, he keeps his store open for as long as possible. However, one afternoon he felt particularly weak and tired. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he closed his store, laid down on his old sofa and wandered off into the dream land. As soon as he fell asleep, Winwood was drawn into a world of dark nightmares. Lightning and thunder went off around him, images flashed before his eyes only to disappear again just as fast. Suddenly, he was engulfed by a gaping emptiness. Slowly, he began drifting towards an old, peculiarly dressed man. An underground vault started materializing around him, and as Winwood approached he made out a weird drawing above the old man. Sweat dripped from the forehead of the ancient one as he performed magic gestures with his hands. He whispered strange words - and, all of a sudden, the drawing started to glow in a dark red color. It glowed ever brighter, with sparks and flashes disappearing into the darkness...

Winwood looked around once more, then opened the through the nothingness appeared from the drawing. Winwood shuddered - this helpless man was he himself. The old man uttered another magic word and disappeared in front of Winwood's eyes together with the underground vault. Once more Winwood was engulfed by darkness. Minutes became hours. Slowly, a paralysing cold started creeping all over his body. He could not feel his arms and legs anymore. The coldness then reached his head. Winwood drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. As he awoke he found himself, to his amazement, not on his sofa but in a sparsely furnished room. The wooden bed which he lay was covered with a dirty sheet. Against one wall of the room was a richly decorated wardrobe, which looked like an expensive antique, yet it did not appear to be that old. On the other side of the room he saw a simple wooden chest, with a few pieces of clothing strewn over it. The clothes looked as if they were from some movie about middle ages. Since Winwood awoke in an old dirty nightshirt he had no choice but to put these clothes on. He had to draw in his stomach while putting on the trousers but the clothes seem to fit him perfectly. Winwood - not exactly prone to brooding - began immediately exploring the room more closely. It was a very dirty room which on top of everything seem to be flee infested (a few itchy spots on his body led him to this conclusion). Ills imaginative mind accounted very quickly for the circumstances of his peculiar surroundings. The notion that the room in which he stood was not only very far away from his record shop but was also apparently in the 16th century didn't come as a great surprise to him. As Winwood left the room and went down the corridor he arrived in the bar of an inn. He stood at the top of a protruding rustic staircase from which he was able to see every nook and cranny in the smoky bar. Winwood glanced at the scene below which resembled something from a cloak and dagger movie. The adventurous guests loafed around a rough table drinking heavily. Winwood, who in his new robe found a few coins - so-called Piasters - thought. It would be the best to mingle among the people and try to find out where he was. He soon noticed a table which, as it seemed to him, wasn't filled with cutthroats alone so he joined the group. At first he only listened, but then carefully he joined in the conversation, and after a tasty round of beer Winwood knew approximately where he was. Indeed, he woke up in the same area where his record shop used to be. And the year was not sixteen-hundred-something as he suspected but 1932. The only problem was that the wodd he found himself in was not the Earth he knew. Furthermore, this was a place very similar to his Earth but its history and technical development seem to have taken a very different turn. Even though this was 1932 cars and similar machines were nowhere to be seen. The electricity was not yet discovered and the alchemists and mages were all the rage since magic worked very well in this world. And just like chemistry, physics and mathematics use formulas and theorems, in that other world everything was done with magic. For example, the guild of Mages at the court of Sultan Suleiman, who reigned over the Ottoman empire 300 years ago, rendered outstanding services to the science of magic. For it was they who discovered and recorded the basic laws of magic. This magic enabled Suleiman to first lay siege to and then take Vienna. In Winwood's world this conquest failed. But here Suleiman managed to hold on to the conquered city and his wise govemment made the Ottoman empire blossom in previously undreamt of way. The Inhabitants of this other world were also different from the people on Earth. In add on to humans it contained many other intelligent and civilized races that by and large lived in harmony with each other. Winwood thought that for now he leamed enough, so he paid his bill and left the bar...

He was only a couple of hundred of yards away when he saw a group of dark horseman approaching in the distance. Somehow he had a feeling that it would be a good idea to hide from the horsemen so he jumped sideways Into the bush and kept quiet. The horsemen galloped by and a short while afterward she heard shots from the fires of the inn. A little later a thick, oily smoke cloud appeared above the hill and obscured the view of the inn. After making sure that the horsemen have gone Winwood ventured back to the inn. The horsemen committed a terrible bloodbath and slaughtered all guests - even those he just spoke with lie then heard a man. A man was alive but badly hurt. The dying man told him that the horsemen were the body guards of a Mage called Thardan. They looked for someone whom they described as a "traveller between worlds". And as he uttered those last words the man died. A number of theories came to Winwood. If Thardan was the old man he saw in his dream cowering over the magical drawing and, with hindsight, who abducted him from his own world, what was he up to? Winwood just had to find answers to these questons if he wanted to return to his own world. And he was very sure he wanted to return!

Meanwhile, Winwood thought it wise to hide in the bushes, since he had no idea if the horsemen, after facing Thardan, were to return and look for him once more. So, out of branches and leaves Winwood built himself a hideout in a nearby oaktree. From there he could keep an eye on the inn without being observed. In his hiding place Winwood thought some more ahout strange circumstances which put him there. It appeared that there was at least one reason as to why was he here. It was something to do with this Thardan. The traveller between worlds must have been Winwood himself, although he did not come to this world willingly. Could it be that Thardan brought him here by using the magic powers he already demonstrated? If this was the case what did Thardan hope to achieve by Winwood's presence in this world? And while these thoughts were going through his head, the afternoon turned into evening and the first signs of dusk appeared on the horizon. Even though Winwood's hideout was not very comfortable he fell asleep. When he woke up could not tell how long was he asleep, nor could he say what was the reason for the scream that startled him and woke him up. Weak moonlight he thought he saw pale shapes crawling around among the ruins of the inn. Sniffing noises like those of a horde of rummaging animals reverberated through the darkness. The sniffing was accompanied by smacking and cracking finally climaxing in a shrill, triumphant cry. A cry seemed to reflect the primeval terror of animal rage. A chill run down Winwood's back and he sure hoped that this screaming creature could not climb. The smacking, cracking and sniffing continued throughout the rest of the night and ended only with the first signs of dawn. 8ut even in lull daylight Winwood did not dare to leave his tree. Whatever happened in the ruins last night could still be going on in the surrounding area and he had no wish to face such a being. Out of his tree Winwood could also see the street leading to the inn and while the middle of this street was still enveloped in the last remnants of the early morning fog, a man rode into the ruins. Winwood was still suspicious that this horseman too could be in the service of Thardan but, nevertheless, his appearance exuded confidence. The horseman reached the blackened ruins and disappeared among them. A short while later he reappeared, mounted his horse and was about to ride on. Winwood could not stand it any longer so he got out of his hideout as fast as he could and then climhed down the rugged branches of the oak tree. He ran towards the horseman with both arms waving. As he ran he caught a glance of the insides of the ruins. The image he got from this short glance will haunt him in his nightmares for a long time to come. The massacre performed by Thardan's henchmen was an invitation to something or someone. No corpse was left on the same spot where it was the day before. In the middle of the ruin was a mountain of bones, whose greasy surfaces reflected the morning sun and shimmered in a few red and moist places. The base of this heap of bones was a ring of skulls whose tops were shattered. Winwood shuddered and then ran on waving and shouting after the horseman who finally noticed him. He stopped his horse and turned half way around in his saddle. To his amazement, Winwood noticed that the man did not reach for the ominous rapier dangling from his hip. A bit out of breath Winwood stopped about ten yards in front of the horseman, looked straight into his eyes and introduced himself. The man on the horse wasn't exactly in the prime of his life. The broadbrimmed dark-gray felt hat, decorated with a large white feather, was on a head of thick gray hair which extended down to his shoulders like a white lion's mane. The left eye was covered with a black eye patch. The stranger wore a brown cape under which Winwood saw a black leather suit with many small pockets. After Winwood told the horseman about the bloody attack on the inn, leaving out the amazing circumstances of how himself got there, the man run his gloved right hand through the big, gray, thick beard and nodded. Without a word the gray haired one signaled Winwood to follow him, turned his horse and started riding slowly. Winwood followed without objection. Even when a little later they got off the road and on to a winding path fighting the undergrowth, Winwood did not utter a word.

After a long stretch of road through the thick forest they arrived in a large valley which suddenly appeared in front of them. The valley was about three miles wide and had an almost perfect circular shape. The middle of the valley contained a forest which even from this distance looked very thick and dark. A steep rock shot out of this forest. its eastern side was covered with lush woody plants almost all the way to the top. All of the other sides were a steep and smooth rock face. The top of this cliff, fiat and wooded, did not rise above the forest or the rock face surrounding the valley. You could only find this place from air or if you knew the way. if you wanted a place to hide this was it. The climb down into the valley proved to be real hard, but in spite of the precipitous path the gray haired one did not get off his horse who seem to instinctively find each step. They travelled across the valley and reached the forest. As they approached, the rock in the middle the ground started to ascend steadily. The old man beat a barely visible path in the eastedy direction through the thick, ancient forest. The way lead to t')e east side of the rock. Ever more frequently the layer of soil thinned out exposing the white limestone underneath. The higher they climbed the smaller the tree tops were, and the last stretch to the rock plateau was over a small, steep and growth-free ridge. The plateau was not very big and not perfectly flat but this was hidden by the thick tree growth in its middle. The gray-haired-one lead Winwood straight to the thick forest which thinned out a little after only a few steps. Winwood could see that in the very middle of the plateau, hidden by the trees, was an old, fortified tower. It was obvious that the old man lived here. Indeed, he got off his horse and walked it to a stone stable up against the tower wall. He tied his horse to the stable wall, took his hat off, glanced at the outside of the tower and called out several times to someone named Jordrak. Another gray-haired man appeared. But even though the horseman was obviously older, he made an impression of being alert and strong while Jordrak walked with a stoop. He greeted both Winwood and the horseman in a friendly manner, walked by the gray-haired-one, loosened the rope with which the horse was tied to the moss covered stone wall and lead It into the stable. The gray-haired-one waved to Winwood to follow him and entered the tower through a small but high portal. The inside was heated and lit up by a fire from a large stone fireplace. In the middle of the room. whose floor was made out of rough floor boards, was a big table. Around the table were wooden benches. The rest of the room was in the shade and Winwood, by and large, could not make qut the items hanging on the walls. The most he could see was that dght next to the fireplace was a stone staircase going' along the tower wall up to the ceiling. The gray haired-one indicated to Winwood, still without speaking. To sit down and then got a large round metal bowl out of one of the numerous cupboards. He filled it with soup from the boiling kettle above the fireplace and placed the bowl together with a large piece of bread in front of Winwood. He then sat down at the table across from him and said: "My name Is Naristos". And after a short pause: "And what shall I call you the traveller between worlds? I'am Winwood, who noticed how hungry he was only after seeing the hot, delicious smelling soup, almost choked when he heard these words. When he recovered he looked up at Naristos wide eyed and asked: "What do you know about it?" "More than I would like to. Today as I rode by the inn, or what was left of it, I was looking for you." "In that case you must have certainly heard of one Thardan?" As soon as this name was mentioned the expression on Naristos face darkened. "If there is onyone in this world who can get you it's Thardan." "But why?", asked Winwood, "I believe it's time you learn more about certain strange events. You will surely think that a lot of what I am about to explain is nonsense. But I beg of you to suspend your disbelief and hear me out to the very end." "Well...", replied Winwood, "I have been transferred from an afternoon nap into a stranGe world, and that expanded my horizons tremendously." A bit bewildered by this spontaneous exchange with Winwood the gray-haired-one shook his head. But since Winwood did not say anything else, he run his hand through his beard and started to speak. "As you the traveller between two worlds can establish by yourself, there is more than one world which the people who live on it call Earth. All of these worlds exist side by side, in a way incomprehensible to us, some of them even in one and the same place, without approaching or interfering with each other. It's even impossible to see one world, for example your Earth, from the other. Even If one is to build a telescope which could see throughout the whole universe the search would be fmidess. And yet there are gates through which these other worlds can be reached. But one should not view these gates as simple doors which can be opened by anyone. Just as each single world is different from all other worlds, the methods for opening these world gates are different from world to world. There are worlds where the Ume flows slower than it does here, in others the history recorded the strangest of developments. But in some odd way all of these worlds are somehow related to each other. What is a fairytale, saga or legend here is history somewhere else. And many of our past heroes and demons are fairytales in other worlds. Each traveller who enters a new wodd brings along many things from his old home - not things which can be felt or seen but which are nevertheless real." He took a deep breath and continued. People of all times used all means available to them to solve the riddles of the gates, the worlds and the travellers between worlds. The people from other Earths have been to this world several Umes already, but did not jump out of a tree dressed in rags like you did. They came in floating spheres shining as if they were lit up by a thousand of candies. They made notes, observed, recorded and then disappeared. Nobody was ever hurt or damaged by them in any way. But what happened to you could not have been of their doing. That was the work of a resident of this world. Perhaps, the person who brought you here wants to use whatever you brought with you from your own world. This someone surely wanted to put you in chains as soon as he got you here. But it seems that fortunately something went wrong." It appeared that the old man finished his story because he folded his hands on the table and stared at Winwood. Winwood said: "Well, all this doesn't sound that implausible. Only, I don't quite understand the bit about this invisible something that the traveller is supposed to carry with him between worlds?" Well, in our world there are simple ghosts, trolls, fairies and many other things and beings which in your world exist only as legends and fairytales. The magic makes it possible to use all of these beings and powers to one's own advantage. For example, there is a railway in these here parts which is not powered by a steam engine. The locomotive contains a simple ghost whose power makes it move. If you were to attempt to build a locomotive you are familiar with and which is powered by a steam engine, it would not move an inch here. The water would become hot and tum into steam, but the steam would not build up any pressure. in the same way you can mix some gun powder in this world but even though it would hiss and explode you would not be able to shoot with it. Thardan can build many things with whatever it is you brought with you from your world but it will never work here." "Who is this Thardan anyway?" asked Winwood somewhat uneasily. The expression on the old man's face darkened again as he considered Winwood's question. "That's a very difficult question you are asking me. Nobody has so far met this Mage face to face, at least nobody that's SUII alive. Yet, in a strange way, all residents of our world always feel his presence. Lie commands an unbelievable magical power with which he keeps all beings under his permanent control. And any creatures that dare to revolt against him regretted it bitterly. lie never appears in person, but commands an enormous and inexhaustible army of henchmen which he created using his magical abilities." With a long look at Winwood, who still felt uneasy, he continued. "As you can see, you are in great danger. Sooner or later Thardan will find out where you are. And if he were to capture you here, that would have terrible consequences for both you and us."

Winwood overcame the strong urge to hide somewhere and wait for this horrible nightmare to end. He pulled himself together and turned again to Naristos. "But what can I do to return back to my world?" "Well, I don't believe there is a simple way back", replied Naristos in a sympathic voice, "I'm sorry to say, but you have become a part of our world. And the only one who can reverse this is Thardan. But I doubt he'll help, at least not willingly. The only thing left for you is to make the problems in our world your own. Perhaps with your help we'll finally manage to find a way to end Thardan's tyranny." "But what can I do", replied Winwood doubtfully, "I am a normal man who finds himself In a desperate situation. How can I assist you against such a superior Mage?" "Don't forget the secret power you bring with you into our world", retorted the old man cheerfully, "if Thardan went out of his way so much to obtain this power, maybe it can also help you to do something to him." "But it's time for you to leave", continued the old man. "You should not stay too long in one place. Don't forget that Thardan will do everything he can to capture you. His henchmen are everywhere and if you are not careful you'll meet them." "Go to Larvin first and make yourself scarce. Try to find a few companions since alone you will not get far. Good luck, Winwood!" With these words the old man said his goodbyes and left the room...

Copyrights 1991 by: reLINE Software GmbH - Germany

Write me please on runetek@mailcity.com
Page design: RUNE Software, RUNETEK 1998.