Choose Your Own Adventure with Napoleon Stone

Napoleon_Stone_portrait_sample (1)The moment I read my first choose your adventure book I was hooked. I first started out on with a few Indiana Jones adventures before moving on to the fighting fantasy books by Ian Livingstone. So when Richmond Clements approached me at the start of the year about doing a mini choose your own adventure for the enigmatic Professor Napoleon Stone  I had already replied with a big yes before I had finished reading his email.

Fast forward several months later and I can now confirm that the first draft of Napoleon Stone and the Army of Set is finished. Right now Richmond and I are working on refining it and then deciding on the best way to release it to the world. 

I must say this has been a very strange experience for me reading my characters in prose and knowing that I did not write it. Richmond has done a fantastic job with the story and I’m looking forward to getting stuck in and fleshing it all out with him.

At the moment I can’t say too much about the plot except to say that it is set before the events of Fallen Heroes  where we catch up with Napoleon discovering that trouble follows him everywhere even on holiday.

Here’s a little taste of what to expect.


You are Napoleon Stone. Lecturer in Archaeology, History and Parapsychology, expert in all things relating to the occult and the paranormal.

Aside from your academic duties you are a member of The Icarus Foundation – A global think tank, dedicated to monitoring the activities of cults around the world and intervening when any those cult threaten human life by supernatural means or otherwise. When that time comes the task is left up to a special unit set up within Icarus – The Esoteric Investigations Unit of which you are its top operative.

In your years of adventuring, you have acquired formidable skills. You are an unparalleled hand to hand fighter, weapons expert and your skill with a blade could see you in an Olympic team. You are also a notable practitioner of the magical arts. The deadliest weapon in your arsenal is your Remington Shotgun. A gift from your grandfather Gideon Stone the weapon is able to channel and harness the energy within you but at great cost to your health. It is your greatest weapon and you greatest weakness.

This is good. You are going to need all these skills in what is coming.

One of the magical skills you have learned will be particularly useful. You can use your magic in combat, using it to instantly defeat an enemy. But this, like all magical powers, comes at a cost. Twice during this adventure, you can elect to use magic to avoid a fight. Your opponent or opponents will die instantly, but you will take 1d+4 damage.

Roll 2d+12 : this is the amount of health points you start the game with.

Combat: you will be told your opponent’s health points at each battle. To fight, roll 1d and add it to your health points, and do the same for your opponent. The one with the highest score wins that round. You can then roll for damage and take it off the health points of the loser.

Unless you decide before hand or are told otherwise, you’ll use your shotgun in combat. It holds 12 shells. If they run out, it will be assumed you fight the rest of the battle hand to hand, or with any other weapon you may have acquired.

For multiple opponents, you choose the order in which you fight them, but each opponent gets an attack each round.

At times you will be asked to make a agility or some other type of roll. To do this, roll 2d. If it is less than your Health Points, then you have passed. If you roll over, you have failed.

Good luck, Professor Stone.


You have never liked Paris. There’s just something about it that rubs you up the wrong way. Maybe it’s the casual arrogance of the locals who assume that they lived in the greatest, most beautiful city on Earth, and no matter how damned rude they were or how much dog shit you had to dodge in the street, they would never change their minds.

You sit in the back of the cab as the driver occasionally shouts at random to other road users, making heavy use of his horn as he does so. You try to ignore this as you once again look through the files that have been sent to your tablet by Raymond Fitz aka the Archivist, the head of Icarus’ Research Department.

You had been on a relaxing – at least relaxing for you – break, studying occult texts held in the British Museum, when you had been ‘asked’ by Icarus to head to Paris. Something was going on there, you had been told, and you were the closest capable investigator.

The files you have been sent are woefully thin. They might as well have sent you a street map and told you to have a look around. You lean back and sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

The driver half turns and says something in French. You’re pretty good at speaking it, and know he’s telling you that you have arrived at your hotel. You throw a handful of Euros at him, guessing by his response that you’ve given him a pretty big tip.

You step out of the cab, taking your bag with you, and into the chilly drizzle.

You’re hungry. You need a drink. But not before you unpack your weapons.

You pull your shotgun from the hidden compartment in your bag, check that it’s fully loaded, and sling it inside your coat. Your knife goes into a sheath at the small of your back, and both weapons are hidden by your long coat.

There’s a bar close to your hotel. It looks pretty good, so you push the door open, stepping from the cool damp air outside into the warmth of the bar.

You push your empty plate away, nodding your thanks at the bored looking waitress who appears to scoop it up.

You sit back in your chair, sipping gratefully from your beer, then from the bourbon chaser you had also ordered. There is a television on the wall in the corner of the bar, and you watch CNN Europe for a while. While you can’t quite hear what the reporters are saying but the images of burning buildings, rolling tanks and starving children tell you all you need to know.

Then, you are distracted from it as an incredibly beautiful women walks into the bar. She stands there for a while, looking around the room. She has long black hair. Black as midnight and shining like the sun. Her skin is light brown and smooth as marble. In contrast to her skin are her fierce blue eyes which are now sweeping around the room until they settle on you.

The woman walks over to your table, looking down at you with those amazing eyes.

Her voice is a warm symphony as she says, “You are Him? You are Napoleon Stone?”



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