Ploypokoing

It all started as a routine excavation in Palestine. But soon you find yourself racing across the desert on a mission to track down a legendary ancient relic before the Nazis can get their hands on it. And that's just the beginning. The Third Reich is mobilizing across the world in search of mysterious ancient Hallows of Power, objects that could put unimaginable supernatural forces into the hands of the armies of darkness. And the only thing standing in their way is you.
Put on the worn boots of a 1930s braggart archaeologist and prepare for a wild journey around the world, encountering adventure, romance and mystery at every step. Do you have what it takes to locate the relics, defeat your enemies and save the world from a thousand years of darkness?

The Wailing
Piano

Paulus scowls. "Very well," he says. "If that is how you choose to play it."


It is better to pass over the next thirty minutes or so in silence. Suffice it to say that Paulus knows a great deal about inflicting pain.


You manage to take the punishment without giving him any information, despite his best efforts. The beating you receive is likely to have a lasting impact on your health and ability to perform various tasks.


[In the endgame, you will suffer from the following penalties because of your injuries:


Panting with exertion, Paulus puts the knuckle-duster back on the table. "Very well, I see this is getting us nowhere. Perhaps we should move on to something else."


Paulus reaches into the chest at his side and withdraws another artifact: a round object about the size of a baseball, wrapped protectively in leather. He does not remove the wrappings, but he doesn't need to; you know exactly what is inside.


"Tibet," he says, stroking the object's leather wrappings. "Three months after the business in Jerusalem. I understand you had a very difficult time of this one. So, Dr. Spillane. Once again, will you tell me your story?"


You close your eyes and see the high Himalayas dropping away below you, the peaks shrouded in a raging blizzard as the rickety red biplane you are riding chugs along toward the plateau, buffeted by icy gusts of mountain air.


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