Great Magic Barrier is a powerful spell in the world of magic. It is considered to be one of the most important defensive spells used by magic users. This spell creates a great barrier that protects the caster and their companions from various magical attacks. The Great Magic Barrier spell requires a high level of skill and concentration to be effectively cast. It is often used in critical situations where the caster and their companions are facing powerful enemy magic users or dangerous magical creatures. When this spell is cast, a shimmering barrier is created around the caster and their companions.
When this spell is cast, a shimmering barrier is created around the caster and their companions. This barrier is highly resistant to magical attacks and can deflect or nullify spells thrown at it. It acts as a shield, protecting those inside from harmful magic.
Nancy Drew: The Curse of Blackmoor Manor (Part One)
This game is kind of weird. It’s not bad — the environment is fun, most of the characters are interesting, and the reveal at the end is decent. But the puzzles are really tedious and convoluted, and there are some elements of the plot where I’m just like, “Really? Really?“
Then again, a lot of stuff that happens is chalked up to the traditions of an old aristocratic British family, so maybe it’s just culture shock. I’m descended from peasants, after all.
“Dear Ned,” Nancy starts. “I’m sorry for spending the entirety of last game telling all my friends how hot Dave Gregory was. Also sorry for ignoring you for the past five games.” No, just kidding. She lays out the plot of the game for him (and us): the daughter (“Linda”) of one of Nancy’s neighbors has married a rich English diplomat (“Hugh Penvellyn”), but unfortunately, ever since coming to England, Linda’s health has been going downhill. England will do that to you. That’s why all those Victorian doctors would be like, “Bad health? Go abroad! Go to the States! Go to France, even though we hate them! Go to Australia, even though everything there is trying to kill you! Just GET OUT OF BRITAIN.”
The Penvellyns live at Blackmoor Manor, which is an old creepy mansion in the middle of a foggy moor, because of course it is. I’d say we’d have a hound of Baskervilles situation on our hands, but that game’s already been done. The overly Cockney cabbie drops Nancy off, a creepy wrought-iron gate swings open, we head up a dark path to the door, and we see a pair of GLOWING RED EYES in the darkness. “NANCYYYYYYYYY~” it whispers. Dude! Creepy!
Then we’re greeted and ushered in by Mrs. Drake, Hugh’s aunt. We tell her about the weird glowing eyes that somehow seemed to know our name, and she’s just like, “Oh, ha ha! You Americans! Always hallucinating!” We shouldn’t worry our little colonial heads over these things; we should just go and get unpacked. Nancy asks to see Linda, but Mrs. Drake blows us off. But she does want to talk to us later, so we should meet with her in the conservatory. That’s our first task, and then the cutscene ends.
So, this is Nancy’s room. It’s all very celestial-themed — lots of star patterns and deep colors. It’s pretty nice, but it’s a little busy? I’m not really feeling the design of this game. We can go look at Nancy’s mom jeans in her suitcase, and a bunch of other stuff around the room. There’s a massive mural of Apollo/Helios stretching over one wall, because why not, I guess. And then there’s a little picture of…Anubis, I think? next to it. Hey, don’t mix your mythologies, game! Blah blah plot-significant items blah. They are: a moon column at the base of the window seat, a crest above the fireplace, a mysterious mystery box on the chair, a book about a frog named Grenny, a bunch of star charts, and a Newton’s cradle. I never knew that’s what those clicky balls were called! See, Nancy Drew is educational.
We’re back to the really annoying alarm clock time system. It’s about 6 PM right now. Is anyone gonna offer Nancy dinner or something? No? Well, anyway. So we’re supposed to go talk to Mrs. Drake and not even try to get a look at Linda. But I mean, at least half the American national identity is predicated on disobeying the British, so off to see Linda we go!
Out in the hallway, we can overhear a conversation between “Jane” and “Ethel” behind one of the doors. More suspects! We’ll meet them later.
Over in Linda’s room, we can ask her how she’s doing. She has curtains around her bed, and we never get to see her face in this game. How very Nancy of her. We tell her that her mother called us here to help her out in “her condition”, which actually just sounds like an old-timey way of saying Linda might be pregnant. Linda flips out on us: does her mother think she just needs time to ADJUST? Did Hugh tell us that this is ALL IN HER HEAD? Because they don’t understand! NOBODY UNDERSTANDS! Nothing can help her now! We should GET OUT WHILE WE STILL CAN!
(I will say that what happens to Linda is a bit eerie for the sort of Gaslight-ish quality where a woman knows something is wrong with her situation, but everybody else believes or tries to convince her that it’s all in her head, because those women and their hysteria, am I right?)
Linda refuses to talk to us anymore once she’s done ranting, so we can move on. We go downstairs to talk to Mrs. Drake, and find ourselves in the most garish entryway ever. Seriously:
WHAT KIND OF COLOR SCHEME IS THIS?
On our way to the conservatory, we get a call from Linda’s mom. From the US? Take out your sim card, Nancy! Think of the charges! Anyway, Linda’s mom tell us that the doctor didn’t find anything wrong with Linda physically, apart from some dry skin. Aw, I feel you, Linda. Eczema is nobody’s friend. We can get some exposition from Linda’s mom about our suspects, so let’s do that. Hugh is off in Italy, but he’d much rather be at home — he calls Linda every day, but she flips out on him every time he does. Actually, I don’t really see how Hugh is a suspect. I mean, he’s the rich guy with the manor. I don’t know what he’d have to gain from pulling a Yellow Wallpaper on his wife.
Mrs. Drake, meanwhile, is Hugh’s aunt and the caretaker of Blackmoor Manor. She also moonlights as a Canadian singer and former Degrassi actor. (That was too easy, sorry.) Linda’s mom beats us over the head with some creepy allegory: Mrs. Drake spends all her time in the conservatory with a trowel. You’d think she was burying something! Or SOMEBODY. You know, Linda’s mom, Nancy Drew has been solving crime since 1930. She doesn’t need your heavy-handed metaphors.
Nancy can’t send or receive email on her phone in this game, but we can read some old ones. Frank and Joe have emailed to congratulate Nancy on her first international case. Meanwhile, they’re helping their neighbor repair his satellite dish. That’s so sad. I can’t even make fun of the Hardy Boys anymore, you guys. It’s too depressing. Anyway, Bess and George are off to sailing camp, so Nancy can’t call them for hints either.
The front hall is full of old portraits and Latin inscriptions about the family history, because that’s the kind of shit Europeans are into.
On the right is Linda’s husband, Hugh. He looks like a dude I went to grammar school with. Man, if I had known Rodolfo would grow up to inherit a giant English mansion, I def. wouldn’t have made fun of him for eating crayons in the 4th grade.
We head over to the conservatory to see Mrs. Drake. I’m immediately suspicious. Bad shit always goes down in conservatories, as Clue has taught me. And Mrs. Drake has a carnivorous plant! Amazing.
Mrs. Drake tells us that there are no permanent house staff, as they have no need for “a squadron of insipid, gossiping ne’er-do-wells.” That sums up the staff on Downton Abbey, anyway. (I still maintain Bates is a serial killer. I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL.) So, conveniently, there are only about five people in the house at any given time. That sure narrows down the amount of people we need to investigate! We find out that there’s a historian named Nigel Mookerjee staying at the mansion, doing research on the Penvellyns for a book. “Jane” and “Ethel” are Hugh’s daughter and her tutor, respectively. We can’t ever actually talk to Ethel, although we see her a few times. We ask what Jane is studying, and Mrs. Drake says, “Everything a British school girl needs to know.” Yeah, but…what is that? History? English? Tea making? Then Mrs. Drake adds, “All her schooling in the States has left her with, shall we say, a cultural deficit.” RUDE AS HELL.
She asks us to obey the house rules, which include “[not] mucking about with other people’s objects.” Well, shit, how are we going to have any fun if we can’t do that? Anyway, she also forbids us from going outside, so this is another game where we’re stuck in a building for the whole thing. We can call outside to get food delivered to us, though. That’s all the info Mrs. Drake can give us! We can also check out her allergy medication, which we find out makes her really sleepy. I feel ya, Mrs. D. One Benadryl knocks me out for like ten hours.
There’s a library off of the main hall, where Nigel hangs out. He’s super obnoxious, but he has amazing cheekbones.
If he weren’t fictional, I would go out with him once and then feel deep shame.
Anyway, he initially thinks that Nancy is his typist. Hella rude. He recovers and starts expositing about what he’s doing here: he’s writing a history of the Penvellyn family, as though anyone cares. He’s all like, “I don’t know why no one’s written about them before! Maybe it’s because of all their DARK SECRETS, like THE BLACKMOOR BEAST. Or their FAMILY TREASURE.” Or both! Maybe those two things are connected, somehow, in a way that Nancy might figure out over the course of this game. Nigel tells us that way back in the 1600s, Elinor Penvellyn wouldn’t let anyone hunt the beast of Blackmoor, so everyone figured that the beast was actually her husband, who she turned into a wolf, as you do. She was executed for witchcraft by Cromwell’s supporters. Nancy doesn’t know who Cromwell is, and Nigel is all like, “Oh, I guess they don’t teach HISTORY anymore in AMERICA.” UNCALLED FOR!
Nigel tells us that “[s]ome believe the Penvellyns are the guardians of a fabulous treasure…or of some dark secret.” So…the family secret is that they’re guarding another secret? “Secret” doesn’t look like a word anymore.
There’s a computer in the library as well, built by Alan Penvellyn. Obviously we have to figure out the password, but Nigel can’t help us, because he’s useless.
(Sidebar: Nancy keeps sneezing, and Nigel keeps saying “Bless you” in different languages, to which Nancy thanks him in the same language. Do you think you’re smarter than Nancy Drew, Nigel?)
On our way back up the hallway, we meet Loulou! Loulou is a parrot who weirdly also serves as exposition. Like, remember when half the mystery in The Haunted Carousel was solved by talking to a weirdly sentient robot? That’s basically what goes on with Loulou. I mean, I’m not necessarily into these games for the realism, but I can’t believe we have to go to a bird for hints. I almost miss the Hardy Boys. Anyway, we’ll need Loulou later, but right now she is just a strangely self-aware bird who is also voiced by Nancy’s voice actress. Fun fact for you!
So let’s meet Jane. Literally the second you meet her, she starts babbling about how we’re going to be besties and she wants to play a game with us! No, not that kind of game. Maybe. We try to interrogate this eight-year-old girl for clues, for some reason. Nancy Drew leaves no stone unturned! Jane calls Linda “mummy”, and then corrects herself. HMM. Jane ominously tells us that she saw a “lady in black” putting something on Linda’s nightstand, right before Linda started losing her shit. Oooh, that sounds like our culprit! Jane tells us that we can hang out in her room whenever we want, even when she’s not here, and we can look at all her stuff, too. To be fair, that sounds exactly like something a lonely 8-year-old would say. Nancy’s kind of a dick for taking advantage of that to snoop. But whatever. We have to play a game with Jane to wheedle more info about the lady in black out of her. Blah blah it takes me way too many tries to win a freaking round of Go Fish blah. (A bunch of Jane’s games are actually from earlier games — Bul from Scarlet Hand, Petroglyph Punch from Shadow Ranch, etc. Continuity!) Jane tells us that the lady in black looked like the portrait of Elinor Penvellyn in the hall. You will recall Elinor was kicking it back in the 1600s, so either there’s a doppelgänger running around, or she’s a ghost. ~*~SCARY~*~!
If you check out Jane’s stuff while she’s in the room, she’ll give some running commentary on it, which is useful. Nancy picks up a book about mythical creatures, which JUST SO HAPPENS to fall open on a page about werewolves. The author lists her phone number, just in case we know anyone who’s becoming a werewolf and want to help her out with her research. Handy! Jane tells us about her real mom, who’s an opera singer. She also has an Easy Bake oven, which makes my 5-year-old self hella envious. Also, there’s a mysteriously mysterious book without any words, just pictures. Those are all our clues for now, so we leave and run right into Ethel, Jane’s tutor.
This is basically one of two times we ever see Ethel.
Ethel’s kind of lame, as far as suspects go, mostly because you don’t even get to talk to her. She pops up twice and dialogue ensues, but you can’t actually go up to her and start a conversation, ever. Makes her kind of easy to forget about, in the grand scheme of things! She tells us Jane is very busy and then brushes past us. O…kay.
Let’s ask Linda about the lady in black, shall we? Linda can’t help us; she just angsts that Jane is a tiny little weirdo and Linda doesn’t know how to be a stepmother. She’s all appalled that Jane’s interested in death and monsters. I hate to break it to Linda, but she pretty much has that in common with every other 9-year-old girl on the planet.
Anyway, there’s a phone in Nancy’s room that you can use to order food and talk to Hugh Penvellyn. Let’s do both, because I’m efficient. Hugh tells us the same thing about Linda’s mood swings as her mother did. We also learn that the Penvellyns have a 6-month habitation clause; if the spouse of the current owner of the manor leaves before 6 months, half of the estate’s ownership passes to the next legal heir. That would be Mrs. Drake! Could she have a motive for wanting Linda to leave Blackmoor? She totally could. And Hugh says that Jane was in a bit of a “tailspin” after Hugh and his first wife were divorced, but she’s come to “adore” Linda. Jane’s grandfather, Alan, also showered a lot of attention on Jane, which Hugh found “so out of character as to be mystifying.” Interesting stuff!
(Weirdly[?], Nancy refers to Hugh in her notes as “Jane’s father.” I dunno, we’ve just met Jane, I feel like “Linda’s husband” is the more natural association, but whatever. She adds that he’s suspiciously aloof. Is he hiding something, or just British? Heh.)
So you can order food from some cook in town who speaks Cockney as a first language. He tells us he’ll fix us up “for some Becks and Posh.” I laugh at this reference to the early 2000s. Anyway, at some point you’ll have to order the “pinky and perky” (turkey), but you don’t have to do that right away. (Actually, you don’t really need to do it at all — the turkey is used to pacify one of Mrs. Drake’s plants so we can rummage around her stuff. We’ll find a letter about the manor’s 6-month habitation clause, but Hugh literally just told us about it five minutes ago, so whatever.) Also, we need the butter that comes with the meal.
Apparently I decided to just call everyone I needed to at once, because my next screencap has me talking to the werewolf lady. Okay, let’s roll with that. Her name is Paliki Vadas and she’s all superstitious and Central European and stuff. We ask her if she can tell us about werewolves and she’s like, “Maybe you should read one of my two books or twelve articles on the subject.” She totally wants us to pay $50 to read her articles on JSTOR, doesn’t she? I didn’t do that shit in college, Paliki, and I’m not starting now! Nancy coos that Paliki’s writing was just so awesome, she felt the burning need to actually speak with her. Paliki: “Your attempt to win me over with flattery is as transparent as it is feeble. But it worked.” HEE! Interestingly, Paliki’s work isn’t so much about werewolves as it is about psychosomatic illnesses: she tells us that of course Linda’s not actually turning into a werewolf, but if she’s just undergone a major trauma (Paliki lists “marriage” and “relocation” among some possible causes, hmm), she might be particularly vulnerable to the power of suggestion, and begin acting the way she thinks she should be acting — aggressive, irrational, generally werewolfy. This is all very interesting, although if her thing is just mental illness, I dunno why Paliki’s so obsessed with werewolves in particular. Maybe she’s not over Oz leaving on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Me either, Paliki. Me either.
Also, hey, finally a game where we can call Ned! What’s up, Ned! I bet Ned is doing something less lame than installing a satellite dish for his neighbors. Actually, we never find out, because he provides like two lines of exposition and then hangs up. This is not an efficient use of Ned, writers.
There’s this red button on the side of Jane’s door that we need a key for. The key is hidden at the top of a secret passage, blah blah puzzles blah. You have to use the butter from dinner to grease up the keyhole, and then like…a puzzle slides over the door?
So like…basically Jane can’t leave her room until we fix this.
I think it’s possible to solve this puzzle right now; I don’t know if you get in trouble for trapping Jane in her room and leaving her to starve for days on end if you leave it for later. If you don’t, you can just keep popping into her room like normal, so I’ll leave it for when it’s pertinent. Let’s keep this moving! Nigel has gone to sleep now, and we can look through his notes on the Penvellyn family. It is also boring. We can unlock Alan’s computer now; if you check his crest in the hall, you’ll note that his motto was “I purgamentum exit i,” and that is also his password. I don’t know what that phrase means. Latin is stupid. The computer tells us to find 13 “ghosts” that come out after midnight. Our favorite time! We can bug Mrs. Drake a little more while we wait till midnight; she’ll explain Cockney rhyming slang for us and tell us that Loulou is a super old bird.
After midnight, a bunch of panels in the walls open up and you can see all the ghosts that we have to catch. It’s pretty easy, so whatever. Alan’s computer will tell us that if we pull a lever next to “the green dragon”, we’ll get a surprise. We don’t know where the green dragon is, so also whatever. There’s nothing left to do today, so let’s go to sleep. Loulou tells us the house gets up at 6 AM every day, so that’s when we should be up, too. Nooo, I want to sleep in :( Anyway, we set our alarm for 6 AM, but we’re MYSTERIOUSLY WOKEN UP at 3:15. What could be happening?
Nancy hears some mysterious creepy cackling, and when we go outside, we can see some muddy footprints outside Linda’s room. But there’s no one to be found. ~*~*~SCARY~*~*~
As mentioned, this game is on the alarm clock system, so there aren’t really any “days” to go by, exactly. But this is technically the end of day one, and this weird-ass cutscene is as good a place to end as any. Up next: We go down some hidden passageways. There’s an even weirder cutscene. I try to avoid stereotypical Harry Potter references, but this game keeps handing them to me.
Also, hey, finally a game where we can call Ned! What’s up, Ned! I bet Ned is doing something less lame than installing a satellite dish for his neighbors. Actually, we never find out, because he provides like two lines of exposition and then hangs up. This is not an efficient use of Ned, writers.
The Great Magic Barrier spell is particularly effective against offensive spells such as fireballs, lightning bolts, and frost spells. It helps to diminish the damage inflicted by these spells or even completely nullify them. This makes it an invaluable tool for magic users engaged in combat. The duration of the Great Magic Barrier depends on the skill level of the caster. The more experienced and skilled they are, the longer the barrier will last. However, maintaining the barrier requires a great amount of energy and concentration, so it cannot be sustained indefinitely. In addition to its defensive capabilities, the Great Magic Barrier also has a psychological impact on opponents. Seeing such a powerful barrier being created can cause enemies to hesitate or reevaluate their strategy. This can give the caster and their companions an advantage in battle. Overall, the Great Magic Barrier is an essential spell for any magic user who wishes to protect themselves and their companions during combat. Its ability to nullify or diminish the effects of offensive spells makes it a formidable tool in the world of magic..
Reviews for "The Role of the Great Magic Barrier in Achieving Balance and Harmony"
1. Sarah - 2 stars - I had high hopes for "Great Magic Bajrier," but I was ultimately disappointed. The pacing was slow, and the plot lacked originality. The characters were one-dimensional and lacked depth, making it hard for me to connect with them. The writing style was also mediocre, with excessive use of cliches and predictable dialogue. Overall, I found the book underwhelming and would not recommend it to others.
2. John - 1 star - "Great Magic Bajrier" was a complete letdown for me. The story felt disjointed and confusing, with multiple plot holes that were never resolved. The world-building was also lacking, leaving me with more questions than answers. Additionally, the prose was clunky and poorly edited, with grammatical errors and awkward phrasing throughout. I struggled to stay engaged with the book and ultimately gave up halfway through. Save your time and skip this one.
3. Emily - 2 stars - I had high expectations for "Great Magic Bajrier," but unfortunately, it did not live up to them. The character development was weak, with the protagonists making irrational decisions that didn't align with their established traits. The romance subplot felt forced and unrealistic, detracting from the overall story. Furthermore, the pacing was uneven, with slow sections that dragged on and jarring jumps in the narrative. While the concept had potential, the execution fell flat for me. Disappointing read.
4. Michael - 3 stars - "Great Magic Bajrier" had an interesting premise, but it failed to deliver on its promises. The plot was convoluted and lacked coherence, making it hard to follow the story's progression. The writing style was also inconsistent, with random shifts in tone and perspective that disrupted the flow. Additionally, some of the plot twists felt contrived and predictable, diminishing their impact. While the book had its moments, it ultimately left me unsatisfied as a reader.