Come, friend, and sit ye down by the fireplace. That’s it, get ye comfortable, and… ah, observe how shadows are created by the play of light upon the flagstones as the flames dance. Yes, for you see, that is the subject matter our story hinges upon: Light… and Shadow…

Shadowlands is a 1992 CRPG developed by Teque London and published by Domark, and was released on DOS, Amiga, and Atari ST (we played the Amiga version as it was the one I had back in the day). Now, this was a market saturated with computer RPGs of all kinds, so Teque figured they needed something different, a unique hook to get those well-versed in dungeon-crawling to give it a second look.

They found it in the Photoscape system.

Hey, Who Turned Out the Lights?

Shadowlands is a wholly isometric RPG, not all that common in early 90s CRPGs. Its peers were first-person dungeon crawlers such as Eye of the Beholder or Wizardry, or games that used isometric perspectives only for combat encounters, such as SSI’s Gold Box RPGs. It’s also a real-time RPG, again, something usually found only in first-person dungeon crawlers.

This isometric perspective is at the heart of Shadowlands’ tile-based Photoscape lighting system. Other dungeon-crawling CRPGs had dabbled in providing torches that needed to be lit and would dim your perspective of the dungeon as they burned out, but I haven’t played any others that do so in a way that is so unique or atmospheric. Well, aside from Shadowlands’ sequel, but that’s a tale for another day.

In the world of Shadowlands, light sources will illuminate a certain radius of tiles brightly with a gradient drop off of luminosity around them. Outside of this radius? Gloomy darkness.

This updates in real-time as you move, and there are different levels of luminosity. For example, a Light spell will blaze a pool of light twice the radius of a torch.

It’s not impossible to play without a light source, should you run out or treat your consumable torches with frugality, but it’s certainly an oppressive experience. And it could be looked on as a gimmick were it not for some of the level design built around light, or its absence.

To the Shadowlands!

Shadowlands’ premise spans four pages of somewhat florid fantasy in its manual. An evil Overlord, risen again after being defeated in the distant past, is expanding his dominion. Four adventurers sally forth to succeed where armies have not, aided by the spirit of the hero that vanquished the Overlord in ages past.

Hold on, why do the characters look so… anime?

It’s no secret that a fair few Amiga and ST folks back then, particularly artists, were weebs. And as a weeb myself, I use that term affectionately! You’ll find anime and manga appreciation in games such as Turrican, Apidya, and Switchblade II, and absolutely rife throughout the demoscene. Shadowlands’ artist, Mark Anthony, was certainly one of these Euro-Otaku of the early 90s. Though it’s largely unrepresented elsewhere in the game, the character portraits you can customise for your party of four adventurers have a distinct late 80s/early 90s anime vibe to them, in addition to a blown-up pixelated style that feels quite… aesthetic.

Now, I see your eye being drawn to what feels like classes below them: Magician, Warrior, Priest… and well, Orc. Hey, Elf was a class in old D&D! So was Dwarf! This immediately feels like a throwback to that, but these are not classes but simply default names. Shadowlands adopts a classless system, where everyone can use any kind of weapon, armour, and wield magic. But, you can specialise them into effective classes through their stat distribution. So that’s what Kit (my partner, playing alongside me) and I did: two mainline fighters, a battle-priest, and a mage.

Step forward, Henri, Brother Mace, Tusker, and Gutsy! Now, here’s where Shadowlands takes its first unfortunate stumble. It provides no descriptions whatsoever for the stats and what they do. I think it just assumes that you’re an RPG fan if you’re playing Shadowlands and you’ll just ‘get’ what they’ll do without being told. Unfortunately, that leads to some amount of puzzlement. What’s the difference between Combat and Strength? Does Strength affect the damage you do? If so, what does Combat do? Hit rate?

They attempt to clarify it a little later on, but in a way that just feels leads to more confusion.

This is all that the manual says about the characteristics; not all that much! And despite not giving you enough information to make an informed decision about not min-maxing your adventurers, Teque will not allow you to manually assign your stats’ values, instead just using a ‘chance card’ random button. So, of course, you’ll just sit there clicking away until you do get a strong warrior or powerful magician.

As someone who appreciates understanding how things like this will affect a game, this is pretty annoying. And not all that uncommon outside of AD&D-based games. You can’t help but have the feeling that you’ve gimped your characters somehow but not sure how or when it might come back to bite you.

We began our adventure on a dusty dirt road leading through the domain of the Overlord, the Shadowlands. Alas, that’s when we realised that we’d left every bit of equipment we might need at home; no torches, no food, no weapons. Nothing.

“Whyyyy did you nooot bring weapons…?”

The ghostly voice of Vashnar, ancient vanquisher of the Overlord, echoed chastisingly in our heads. The spirit now guided our actions, possessing us as he so wished, and giving our arms and legs a guiding tug. Now the foursome all wagged their fingers at one another as Vashnar expressed his dissatisfaction.

This is how Shadowlands gives a lore reason for its ‘puppet’ control system, easily the most divisive feature of the game. You don’t simply click on a character and tell it what to do. Instead, you click on a body part and issue a command that way. Want a character to read a plaque on a wall? Click their head and then the plaque. Want them to attack? Click the correct arm. Want them to walk in formation with one character as the party lead? Click on the correct leg. Want them to walk alone? Click on the other leg and then the tile you want to go to.

It’s, uh, clunky, to say the least. Especially with no quick-select hotkey for each body part. Instead, a lot of clicking and mousing around. I think they meant it to be intuitive and immersive, and I can see what they were going for with that. But it can lead to much annoyance and frustration.

Sheepishly, we started looking around for anything we could use as weapons. The rumbling of Tusker’s belly also signified that getting something to eat (and drink!) was a priority.

“Caw, caw!”

Crow-calling assaulted our ears as we surveyed our surroundings. Crows! Dark-feathered harbingers of ill-fate! They swooped around in lazy circles, hungry for something to feast upon. And as we drew closer, one decided to feast upon us!

“CAW!”

The feathered menace flapped its wings at Brother Mace, helpfully dressed, as were his compatriots, in a colour-coded tabard. After a bit of shuffling around as Vashnar attempted to get the party unbunched, Tusker lashed out with the only weapons he had available: his fists.

“BOFF!”

With just a single mighty punch from the brawny orc, the crow exploded into a cloud of viscera and feathers. “Take that,” Tusker said with a satisfied grunt, wiping his fist on the grass.

“Look, a stick!” cried Henri, pointing toward a fallen branch nestled in the grass.

“It’s betterrrr than nothiiing…” Vashnar wailed with a sigh, wondering if he’d made the right choice for his avatars. Indeed, it was better than nothing.

“And I’ve found an apple!” called Gutsy, grinning as he hefted up a small, red apple weighing half a kilogram. “Bloody hell!” he then hissed as his wrist complained.

“The… Shad…ow…lands…” Gutsy then said, reading slowly and with some difficulty, his finger pressed against the plaque at the centre of a gothic statue of a winged gargoyle standing on a mound by a withered tree. Well, at least they were in the right place.

The party scavenged the field pretty thoroughly, picking up a handful of apples, an additional stick, and a longbow. Who had left it there on the ground and why, they had no idea. But it was a welcome addition to their meagre arsenal. Especially as it required no quiver of arrows to be carried and would spawn an arrow from thin air as soon as the wielder made ready to pull back the string. Clearly, the work of a sorcerous weapon-smith of no small talent!

“Look, stairs down!”

Ah, they had found an entrance to the subterranean domain of the Overlord! Why he decided to leave it unguarded aside from a few punchable crows, only the sages of ancient wisdom can hazard a guess. Guided by the eager tugs of their spirit-advisor, the party grabbed the lit torches burning on the rocky wall next to the mossy stairs and made their way down.

Drip…Drip…

A labyrinth of stone and gloom stretched out before them as they caught their breath at the foot of the stairs. Here and there, they could see pools of torchlight; a welcome oasis amid the pervading darkness. Squaring their shoulders and adjusting their cloaks, they marched on, branches brandished. After just a few steps, a twinkle of silver on the ground caught their eye.

“Coins?” Tusker said, kneeling beside the twinkling objects. He picked one up, twirling it in his fingers. The head of a long-dead king in profile and his coat of arms could be seen on either side of the silver coin.

“I am the oracle,” Brother Mace intoned, scrutinising the bronze plaque hammered into the stone next to a coin slot. “Cross my palm with silver and I will be your guide.”

The four of them looked at each other. Was this some sort of trick? A genuine offer of a boon?

“Puuut a coin in the sloooot..”

Jerkily in response to their impatient guide’s influence, Tusker rose and walked over to the slot, his arm lifting and jutting forward. “Ow!” the orc exclaimed as his hand smashed into the wall next to the slot, dropping the coin as his fingers spasmed.

“Sorrrry, still getting uuuused to thiiiis…”

Ka-ching.

The coin rolled into the slot. A bell chimed, and lo and behold, another plaque shimmered into sight a few paces along the wall. “Good! You learn quickly,” read Brother Mace, shrugging his shoulders; were they being taught basic puzzle solving?

At the end of the long, wide corridor, a set of stout-looking double doors and a lever on the wall next to it. Well, it didn’t take a coin-accepting oracle to deduce what they had to do here. Henri gave the lever a forceful downward tug, grunting from the exertion of doing so. With the sound of grinding gears and hidden mechanisms, the doors creaked open.

Ahead of them… another stick, and a corridor that snaked around. “I ain’t ‘alf thirsty,” complained Gutsy, wetting his lips with an increasingly dry tongue. Why they’d forgotten to bring their waterskins with them, only the gods know.

A-ha! As if in answer to Gutsy’s grumbling, a flask of water lay incongruously on the flagstones ahead of them.

“Wait,” Brother Mace hissed, raising a hand to halt the party. He tilted his head, craning his neck and straining his ears. “What’s that sound?”

Click-click-clack-click…

The sound of something moving… chattering… could be just barely heard. And then they saw it, moving through a pool of torchlight: a skeleton warrior!

“The living dead”, Mace hissed quietly, making the sign of the Blessed Hammer.

“Let’s get it!” Tusker said with a fierce grin, readying a spectral arrow.

Out of the gloom they charged, brandishing bow and branch. An unruly mob, they swarmed around the reanimated bag of bones, smashing their sticks into the ancient, bleached cadaver while Tusker fired a volley of arrows aimed at its skull. It fought back, teeth chattering and eyes glowing with unholy light, but struggled to connect a blow with its own weapon, an evil-looking scimitar.

KA-POW!

The light went out in its eyes as Brother Mace struck the creature with a mighty hammer-blow, smashing its skull to splinters. The skeleton’s battered and cracked bones collapsed, and then crumbled to dust – as did the skeleton’s blade and shield. “Boo! That’s not fair!” complained Gutsy, who’d anticipated taking the bonebag’s weapon for himself.

Another bag o’ bones patrolled next to a key on the ground and a keyhole in the wall. The party again wailed on it, a task that Vashnar made a little more difficult by his tugging on the wrong limbs, resulting in Brother Mace hurling his stick away and then sheepishly scampering after it. In doing so, however, he stumbled across another weapon lying discarded by a former, no doubt long-perished owner: a dagger! Gutsy grinned as Mace handed it over to him. Now this was more like it!

It seemed they were going to be charged for any assistance along the way. What is this, a tips line? And the help they received was delivered in riddle form.

On the wall next to them was a strange totem. When bathed in torchlight, it would glow, and the sound of grinding mechanisms could be heard, and the wooden doors to the left of the totem would open. Take the light away, and it would lose its lustre, punctuated by the sound of the doors slamming shut. It was here that the party learned about light-based puzzles.

Leaving a burning torch on the floor next to the totem, the party advanced, feeling quite pleased with themselves.

More mild riddling awaited them next to a flagstone that looked distinct from the others and wobbled about when touched. “Weight and see…” Mace read with a wry smile. By this time, one of their torches had burned out, the ‘Magick Power’ that infused all matter utterly drained. So, with no other use for it, Gutsy tossed the weighty stick onto the flagstone. Their reward? Another door no longer barred their progress.

Another patrolling skeleton creaked and lurked in the hallways beyond. This time, however, upon its vanquishing, a fine wooden shield was their reward. Gutsy preened himself with glee as he accepted and readied it alongside his dagger; now he felt like a true warrior!

Fortune smiled upon them as they found an iron-bound chest. Inside? An empty flask and another dagger! Reluctantly, Brother Mace set aside his branch and accepted the blade to wield in battle.

The flask would serve them well, giving them another vessel to fill from the water fountains they found along the way. Wary at first in case it turned out to be foul, tainted water, the party drank their fill from one, smacking their lips at the taste of the surprisingly clear mineral water dispensed from the ornate fish-head fountains. While food remained a tight resource, at least they would not go thirsty.

It was here that they decided to take a nap, tired from all the stomping about. They took it in turns, with one on guard while the other three slept and replenished their flagging stamina.

It was obvious what they had to do when they saw the four flagstones in front of a door. But still, the presence of a coin slot tantalizingly close to it was too much to resist.

“Nooo, don’t waste your moneeeey….”

Mocking laughter echoed through the hallways as they inserted a coin. “I am getting rich on your ignorance…” Henri rolled his eyes, reading the mocking plaque’s inscription. They hadn’t even been provided with a clue this time!

Alas, this would be the final puzzle they would solve before misfortune struck. Striding through the open doors, the party blundered into the presence of a heavily armed skeleton warrior.

Whether it was the way that they bunched up together as Vashnar, seemingly confused and panicked, tugged them this way and that, or losing heart after Henri let out a scream, the tip of a blade fatally jutting out of him, the party found themselves quickly disordered and demoralized, falling prey to the quick, decivisve strikes of the undead creature. Wounded, out of breath, and trembling with fear, Tusker slipped and tumbled down one of the pits hewn into the floor, where the denizens of the level below quickly pounced upon and dispatched him.

“Ohhhh bugger…what do I dooo now…” Vashnar grumbled as his spirit flew away from the grisly graveyard of carnage. Perhaps another party of foolhardy adventurers would one day take up the call before the lands all fell to darkness.

Hopefully, with their own equipment…

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Closing Thoughts

Shadowlands is a difficult one to recommend. It’s moody and atmospheric, and is a dungeon-crawler in the purest meaning of the word, but its sometimes obtuse mechanics and lack of clarity of information leave you with a feeling of unease about your chances of making it through – or if you have already screwed yourself over. Couple that with the plodding pace of character movement, the absence of music, and the heavy stomping of the party’s footsteps being largely the only sound you’ll hear, and it can often feel like an oppressive slog.

We didn’t reach the magic system in the log above, but there is one, and it’s reliant on you draining ‘Magick Power’ from items to replenish your own ‘Force’. And once an item is drained, that’s seemingly it for their usefulness. It’s often a catch-all term for item durability or, in the case of torches, how much longer they’ll burn. Whether you’ll find enough food is a constant concern. And you have to fight the camera pretty much every step of the way, as there is no free-panning around. If you want to see further than a handful of tiles away from a character, you’ll have to move them to pan it. And with it being entirely mouse-driven, the puppetry system feels like such a hindrance, especially in the heat of battle.

The sci-fi sequel, Shadoworlds, addresses some of these issues and adds backstories and colourful flavour to the roster you pick from for your party, plus a pretty nifty weapon crafting and combination system. It’s my preferred one of the two to actually play.

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