*** The Night Journey ****


A Quake episode by Dustin 'Tronyn' Geeraert, Darren 'Daz' Weekes, and Rich "Xenon" Thorne.
Supports single player, skill levels, and cooperative play.


Monsters, textures and extras from Quake Mission Pack II: Dissolution Of Eternity
PAK / Rogue rippage by [Kona]
Tested by Scragbait, Xenon, and The Lieutenant
Other texture credits: Mr.Clean/Fern - Return to Dust, Ikikea Kernean - Ikbase, Raven Software - Heretic, Hexen II.
                       Steve Rescoe for green monster skins used in Beyond The Portal (from his map Shadow).
Other thanks: Tyrann for helping compile some of the maps
              The Qmap crew for helping to figure out some of the errors we got.
              id Software of course for Quake
              Rogue Entertainment for Dissolution Of Eternity
              The creators of all the programs we used (Worldcraft, Texmex, Qped, qME).


*** Installation ***


Unzip all files to x\Quake\night, where x is your quake directory.
Start the game: Quake -winmem 16 -game night
Or, for GlQuake users: Glquake -game night

Once you are ready to begin playing, simply start a new game and you will begin your Night Journey.


*** Story (by Tronyn) ***


It has been foretold: The mythical saviour of two centuries past will return to the east to destroy once and for all its
arch-nemesis, the oppressor from beyond. He will burn through the enemy like our soldiers never could, and he will purge
the oppressor's dread offspring from our lands in the way our magicians were never able. His journey will take him through
our lands and beyond, and through this endless, oppressive night.

It began six years ago, on the two-hundredth anniversary of the City's liberation from the unknown Destroyer by another
unknown Destroyer. A cult began to form within the city, a cult of hoods that shaded faces, meetings in dark attics, strange
signs and eyes peering out of shadowy windows. In several places, these signs were reported as having been carved or painted
on public walls, of houses or temples. When men were sent to investigate, the signs were no longer there, if they were ever
there in the first place. Eventually the City elders became alarmed at this. However, there was no proof of anything, and our
City has always prized religious freedom. The cult existed in relative peace for years, and though they were widely resented,
they were not persecuted.

The catalyst for alarm came when the temple outside the city began to be used for purposes besides those which it had been
constructed for. Groups of cloaks would wander out into the desert past midnight and visit the Temple of the Ankh, which is
open at all times. The religion here is a mix of the Faith of the One God and the Old Religion, with the Ankh symbolizing
everlasting life and the vigilance of the divine. The Temple there is watched over by the bearer of life and keeper of the 
flame - Ankhbarr. His dedication and guardianship had never faltered before this point. Nor indeed did it fail after these
groups visited him in secrecy after dark - he stayed vigilant as ever, but became withdrawn. He thinned out and seemed to
lose flesh, and developed sunken pockets of darkness beneath his eyes. It seemed he would waste away within a very short 
time, and so the City Elders, fearing for his safety and hoping to gain evidence against the mysterious cult that had formed
in their city, sent for him.

Ankhbarr stood before them trembling, and complained that he had nightmares of skeletal beings flying through the air
in the abandoned night desert, and of four-armed Dark Gods which whispered terrible secrets to him, of ceaseless armies
devouring worlds and of being sucked down, down into a green void of sludge which filled his lungs. He said that these dreams
frightened him, and he took them in truth for foul omens in association with the old prophecy. But he also said that his own
death was not what had frightened him so - it was the vision of himself being dragged back up through the thick slime, by 
skeletal arms - arms that grasped him, impossibly deep through the liquid, and grasped at his chest. Their clawed hands dug
at him, and clawed into him, pulling and grasping, through his shirt and into his chest, and they ripped out his heart. And
they dragged him back up, up through the ocean of gory green sludge, and his heart was not in his chest, and he was thinner,
and the skeletal arms dragged him up into a changed world, and he looked down, and his own arms were skeletal...

*************

Several weeks later rumours went around concerning the death of Ankhbarr - he had been dragged into the earth, through the
ground into some horrid underground fate; he had been found nailed up to his temple wall; he had been found dying on the
floor, spurting green ooze from his throat - but before these rumours could be investigated, three brawn and muscular men
arrived in the city. Their complexion was that of the old blood; the look of the pharoahs. Few of that line being around,
they arose much curiousity by their appearance alone; for in addition to their ethnicity, they wore garments from a land
further east, with the four armed deities of those states on their tunics. They would not have delayed proceedings long, had
they not pushed their way into the city in such a manner and demanded immediately to see one Alraz Tabn, whom the City Elders
had long suspected of being the leader of the mysterious Cult. Recieving no answer as to his wherabouts, the three stood,
their bronzed faces lit by the flickering torchlight, and seemed to take in the night air. Abruptly they pushed their way
through the crowd gathered around them, down several alleys, walking quickly as if they knew exactly where they were going.
They slammed an old wooden door behind them and those who had followed them reported to the Elders that the trio had found
the residence of Alraza.

The Elders, recognizing this sign, though having prior not quite believed it, immediately gave the order to evacuate the
city of its women and children. The men were to take up arms and group at the centre of the City, with several small 
detachments patrolling the streets nearby and a midsized force to escort the refugees away and return with much caution
as soon as possible.

Most of this being accomplished with much speed as the people were very afraid by now, the major encampment of defenders was
set up in the largest and best-lit courtyard of the City, in anticipation of a possible attack. The warriors' curved swords 
gleamed bright silver in the firelight as they waited through the night.

*************

The escorting army had made its way through the desert with more haste than caution, which, they thought, was most
appropriate for thew situation since the City itself would most likely be the staging point for the coming attack. The 
force cut its way through the desert like a ship sliding through the waves a massive, dark sea. A small patrol was detached
to forge ahead to Ankhbarr's temple and secure the palace so that the group could pass, not being able to afford the time of
sneaking around the alternate route, which took them through dark side canyons.

The patrol arrived at the Temple of the Ankh. Thinking to use the most stealth possible so as not to alert any of the enemy
who might be present, the four men paired off and moved silently around the temple. There being no sign of anyone as yet,
they moved further in - one pair towards the upper level, and the other to the lower floor - home of the tombs and of the
statue of the Ankh-bearer.

The first group that had moved into the cool, draft-blown attic had found nothing, except for several papers upon which 
strange signs were scrawled. This confirmed that the current Ankhbarr had indeed something authentic to do, voluntary or
otherwise, with the Cult, and did not much alarm them. Making sure the entire area was empty, they then proceeded to meet up
with the other pair.

The second pair of men was not so fortunate. The chamber which housed the statue of the Ankhbarr was the holiest of shrines
in this temple, and this was the target of the evil's deepest perversion. Kneeling before the statue was Ankhbarr, silent,
facing away. Not wishing to startle him, or if he were among the enemy, to alert him, the two tiptoed up behind him, and one
held his sword steady while the other found the nerve to touch him on the shoulder, saying softly "Ankhbarr."

The man who turned to face them was not the man they had known as the city's most vigilant priest for the last twelve years
of their lives. Nor was he, even, as they might have expected, 'further along the lines' of whatever disease he may have 
contracted through contact with the cult members; no. He was not his old self, dedicated and independant, he was not his new
self, lean and wasted, with sunken eyes; he was muscular and bronzed, like the men who had came to the city. He was almost
sickengly healthy-looking, like a character not even real; like a suit of clothing a devil might wear in an attempt to look
like an angel. He seemed to be an image inserted into the scene by some greater force, for the purpose of making him appear
better than ever, after lapsing to cover his wasted appearance for those recent weeks - as if nothing was wrong at all.

Ankhbarr stood. He seemed taller. He said nothing, but his face and body language held an aura of confidence. Then one of the
soldiers, trying to find something to say, found himself looking at Ankhbarr's face very closely. There seemed to be some
flaw the execution of this ideal image, something just that much out of place. And as he gazed into the priest's eyes, he
saw within them not pupils, but the sign of a Q.

Without warning the other of what he had just recognized, the soldier bolted to the door, running into the other pair who
were just coming down the stairs and knocking them over. Ankhbarr lifted up the remaining soldier and threw him into 
the nearest wall, smashing his skull. The fleeing solder was muttering something about a black void, and a green gore-ocean
filled with terror beyond the stars. There was a trident propped up against a wall near Ankhbarr, which flew into his hands
as he turned his head in its direction. Bolts of energy flew from the trident and burned the fleeing soldier
and one of his comrades to a crisp, the lifeless piles of meat left over falling to the steps. The last soldier had survived
by ducking behind the doorway, and though some of the force of the blast had hit him, he managed to drag himself with as
much speed as possible to the temple's door way and out into the night, stumbling blindly through the dark desert ocean to
warn the others...

*************

The men within the city stood around a heap of torches, whose oily smoke blazed up through the thick air and into the starry
night. Many were in heavy armour and several knew war-magics. Their position was well-set, an outward-facing circle of
swordsmen ringed around the more powerful magicians and commanders. They had a view of all ways into the courtyard, and the 
patrols they had sent out stopped in regularly, and reported no alterations in the vacant city. It seemed the strangers had
dissapeared into Alraz' residence, with no sounds leaving the building and no signs indeed of anything out of the ordinary.

Suddenly Alraz himself burst out of the doorway, in full view of the considerable amount of soldiers stationed to watch over
the area, followed by the three strange men from some faraway land, and an excited group of cult members. Two of the soldiers
immediately split off to convey this to the main encampment at the city's center, while the rest hurriedly followed the group
of strange figures towards the end of the city, where the ancient shrine and long-closed Portal of Souls were located.

Of course guards had been posted at the Portal, and were warned in advance by the scuffling footsteps which echoed down
the stone corridors near them. They set up a vanguard in front of the Portal and posted ambushes on either side of the 
doorway.

Upon entering the premesis of the Portal, the three bronzed men were immediately apprehended by the armed guards. Alraz was
taken aside for questioning, though he had never been in a cooperative mood, all he would say is "You can't stop it now..."
The rest of the cultists soon stemmed the passageway to the Portal and it seemed inevitable that there would be an armed
conflict. The three strangers glowered at the guards whose swords were at their throats. One stepped up to the stairway,
seeming to hear a sound that no one else could, and suddenly twitched in the direction of the portal as a burst of energy
flew through the stonework from the windy night and concentrated itself in his hands, forming a three-pronged weapon with
which he lifted and for lack of a better term destroyed the nearest guard. Swirling out of the air, tridents also formed in
the hands of the other two strangers, who began just as quickly to blast bolts of energy into the melee of soldiers and
cultists which had formed, obliterating both alike. Once the soldiers had been destroyed, the remaining cultists, Alraz, and
the three strangers stood in a formation before the Portal, and the three raised their trident-staffs into the air. As they
did so, a pulsating glow began to come from the ruins of the Portal, and a silvery starlike liquid began to form within its
stone circle. The liquid congealed and a blasting sound could be heard as a flash of lightning seemed to emenate from it and
blind the stone walls around it. The Portal of Souls had been reopened.

Nearly half of the defenders of the city had rushed to the old portal. The remaining men at the encampment heard a blast like
thunder, and waited uneasily. The air was cold, and some of them began involuntarily to shudder. Their torches and fire at 
times seemed to illuminate sickly shadows against the stone walls of the courtyard, shapes with horns and claws or hoods and
skeletal arms. It seemed they could hear windlike sound that was not the wind, high above them, and a distant cackling. And
suddenly these shadows were real and were upon them.

*************

The leader of the refugee escort ordered an increased degree of alertness when a dark figure was sighted stumbling towards
them. Immediately the guard was relaxed, however, when it turned out to be one of the men sent ahead to secure the Temple of
the Ankh. Panting, he attempted to tell them what had happened, and though the specifics did not all come out, the general
idea of avoiding the temple he did get across. The entire procession was to be rerouted towards the dark canyons that 
provided the only other route to safety. But before this could be accomplished, Ankhbarr himself stepped out of the gloom on
their flank, and wielding his trident, drove home bolts of the wrath from beyond into the refugees. Immediately the scene
was thrown into chaos, only several of the most competent men recognizing where the destruction was coming from and 
attempting to destroy its source, while the rest attempted to shield the civilians or redirect them to safety. Some took
cover behind rocks in an attempt to formulate a plan of action. But the disorder overcame all, and almost a third of the 
group, soldiers, women and children alike, were killed. But fleeing towards the canyons which constituted the general
direction they had been told to go, dodging bolts of energy and weaving in between rocks, the rest managed to escape into 
the night. They would spend the next several days time in wonder that the sun did not rise, and in fear of unseen dangers, 
before they finally reached the relative safety of a nearby kingdom which had not yet been invaded.

*************

In a shrine distant from these happenings, a clap of thunder had arisen at the same time as that in the distant city when
the Portal of Souls had been reopened. Another portal had opened, and through it now arrived the saviour of the darkened 
lands and the scourge of the mighty Oppressor...



*** Contact ***

Daz - email dazerz@planetquake.com  or visit http://www.planetquake.com/dazdranz
Tronyn - email netgames@netdp.com   or visit http://www.planetquake.com/tronyn
Xenon - email xenon@planetquake.com or visit http://www.planetquake.com/xenon


*** Copyright / Permissions ***

Commercial distribution of this material, in whole or in part, requires
prior agreement with the author.  Commercial distribution includes any
means by which the user has to pay either for the support (e.g. CD-ROM,
or magazine CD-ROM)or for the material itself.  Unauthorized commercial
distribution is prohibited.

The Night Journey  2002 Dustin Geeraert, Darren Weekes, and Rich Thorne.

Quake is a registered trademark of id Software, Inc.