270
The herd has fled southwards but one muttok has remained behind, standing its ground – the grey-haired giant with the barbed antlers. Lowering its head, the beast springs into a full-on charge, driving itself at Desnar. The Skard waits until the last possible moment then leaps aside, driving his javelin straight through the back of the beast’s neck. The muttok hurtles onwards for several metres, kicking up a flurry of dust and snow, then it starts to stagger. Desnar takes another javelin and marches after it, waiting until the beast has fallen onto its forelegs before sliding the second javelin through its midriff. The beast gives a gargling screech, then falls limp at his feet.
‘Vic tarnik!’ The Skard pulls a knife from his belt, grinning from ear to ear. He crouches next to the downed animal, hacking at the magnificent antlers until they come free. Then he rises to his feet, holding up his trophy in bloodied hands. ‘Vic tarnik!’
You bow your head in defeat, accepting that Desnar has bested you in the challenge of the hunt. Turn to 578.
271
Ducking beneath the plant’s flailing creepers, you race towards the edge of the broken branch and take a running jump . . .
For a heart-stopping second you glimpse the vertiginous drop below you – over a mile of twisted limbs, dagger-sharp leaves and tangled roots – then you are scrabbling for purchase on the branch, spectral claws pushing out of your fingers to slide deep into the bark.
With effort, you manage to drag yourself onto more solid ground. Looking back, you see no sign of the scurrilous rodent – you assume it must have scrambled up into the thick canopy of branches. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you study the ledges and vines that stretch before you.
I can do this.
You run and leap once again, snatching hold of the stringy lianas to propel yourself across to the first ledge. You land in a run, maintaining your momentum as you jump for the next growth of vines. You only just make it, your hands sliding down their slippery dew-coated surface before you finally secure a hold.
Carefully you drag yourself up the tree, hand over hand, until you reach a higher ledge. With a grunt of exertion you swing yourself onto the gnarly outcropping, using your feet to help lever you to safety.
A quick glance confirms that the worst is now past. The ledge you are on winds its way round to the summit of the tree, less than a hundred metres above you.
You breathe a sigh of relief.
That’s when you hear the banshee-like wail coming from behind you.
As you turn you sense a shifting in the air, a buzzing flash of movement. You drop to the ground, just in time, as a storm of bright daggers blur past in a rustling roar. Lifting your eyes, you see a strange fey-like creature hovering overhead – a woman, with tree-bark skin and black butterfly wings humming above her shoulders. She moves her hands in a curving arc, weaving some sort of spell.
You glance back, realising that she is controlling the daggers – they sweep round, like an angry swarm of bees, and start back towards your position. As they near you realise that they are actually leaves, but hardened into deadly-sharp points. You throw yourself aside as they hurtle across the ledge, several thudding deep into the bark of the tree. Another wail rends the air. You draw your weapons, spinning to face the devilish creature as she dives towards you, fingers grasping for your throat. It is time to fight:
Speed Magic Armour Health
Willow 7 5 4 70
Leaf blades 6 4 2 25
Special abilities
Blade storm: At the end of each combat round, you must automatically take 4 damage, ignoring armour, from the whirling leaf blades. Once the blades are reduced to zero health, this ability no longer applies.
Natural order: The leaf blades are immune to bleed and venom.
Once Willow is defeated, the leaf blades are also automatically defeated (if they still have health). If you manage to overcome this winged fiend, turn to 235.
272
You have emerged in a large, rectangular chamber, its walls, floor and ceiling covered in thick growths of fungus. As you step away from the hole, you hear an unsettling creak beneath your feet. Looking down, you see that the floorboards have become warped and rotted. You wonder if they will still be capable of supporting your weight. To your right, an open doorway leads through to a narrow corridor.
‘Careful,’ whispers Anise.
You take another step into the room, wincing as the wood groans and cracks. Then another, distributing your weight as best you can. Anise carefully shadows you, her pool of torchlight slowly filling the room.
A sudden rush of movement alerts you to danger.
You swing round, eyes following a dark shape as it drops from the ceiling.
‘It’s a riftwing!’ Anise shrieks, ducking behind your back. ‘Watch out!’
The creature resembles a cross between a goblin and a bat, with black leathery wings and peaked furry ears. From beneath its flayed nostrils, you see two rows of needle-like teeth steadily opening wider.
With a hiss, the monster lunges for you. Reacting on instinct, you manage to catch one of its spindly wrists, stopping its taloned fingers just shy of your throat. The other limb ends in a scarred stump, battering uselessly against your chest. As the two of you stagger back against the wall, you notice one of its wings is hanging loose from its back, the membrane torn. The creature must have been in a previous fight, which has left it injured and weak. It is time to fight:
Speed Brawn Armour Health
Riftwing 2 1 1 28
If you manage to defeat this winged fiend turn to 217. If you lose the combat, remember to record your defeat on your hero sheet. You may then attempt the combat again or return to the map.
273
The alpha male lies at your feet, its body broken and torn as if savaged by some wild animal. The rest of the wolves scamper into the trees, leaving you alone at the centre of the blood-spattered clearing.
You may now choose one of the following rewards:
Alpha’s tooth The howling
(left hand: dagger) (cloak)
+1 brawn +1 magic +1 speed
Ability: dominate Ability: savagery
When you have made your decision and updated your hero sheet, turn to 338.
274
(Note: You must have completed the orange quest The bitter end before you can access this location. If you have visited this location before, turn to 374.)
You brush the flakes of snow from the map and study it again. The symbol shows a wolf’s head, or at least an admirable attempt at one, designed to match the stamp on the back of the leather hide. The White Wolf Trading Company. Once again, your eyes scan the featureless banks of snow that stretch as far as the eye can see. There has been no real landmark to navigate by for several days – instead you have been guessing your orientation from the position of the sun, when it deigns to show itself through the swirling whiteness. You could be miles off course, left wandering this howling wasteland until your frost-bitten body finally decides to give up. A small part of you no longer cares.
Keep moving. Just keep moving.
It feels as if that has been your mantra since the attack on the road. But everywhere fate has led you, only chaos and upset have followed. You hope that this time will be different. Perhaps some friendly company and news from home is all the tonic you need to boost your flagging spirits.
It is darkening towards evening when you finally see the lights. At first you wonder if it is merely a mirage. Your eyes have become crusted with snow and ice, your surroundings fogged by the wind-swept snow. It is easy to imagine shapes and colours, to see things that aren’t there. You blink, rubbing a hand across your face, then stare once again. Lights just ahead – only a few hundred metres away. A rise of hills must have previously obscured them from view. You quicken your pace, dragging your numb limbs through the thick drifts of newly fallen snow, wanting nothing more than to escape the wind, the snow, the ice . . . to have something solid underfoot at la
st.
The light comes from a pair of oil lamps, hanging outside a low-slung building fashioned from what looks like sheets of metal. As you step closer, you realise it is more of a bunker than a building, its rusted iron walls extending back into a rocky hillside.
You knock on the front door, which displays a white wolf daubed in paint. There is no answer from inside – and yet you can see light framing the edges of the door. With a shrug of your shoulders, you push it open and step in. A bell chime tinkles as the door opens inwards, revealing a large metal room, the walls and ceiling covered in brown blotches of rust.
A white line has been painted a few feet back from the opposite wall. After stamping the snow from your boots you cautiously start to cross the room, pushing your hood back from your face. ‘Hello? Anyone home?’
You hear a distant banging, some angry muttering. Suddenly two metal panels flip open at chest height, and the nozzle of a musket is pushed out of each.
‘Whatya want?’ growls a man’s voice from behind the wall.
You find yourself judging the height of the person, your eyes coming to rest on a small glass-covered peep-hole. An eye is pressed against it, distorted into a huge staring orb.
‘I only came to—’ You take a step forward.
‘Back up! Don’t cross the line!’ The voice snaps. There is a rattling clink from somewhere to your left. You glance sideways, spotting the crossbow that is now hanging down from the ceiling by a complex set of pulleys and strings. To your discomfort, the weapon is pointed straight at you.
With hands raised, you step back behind the line. ‘Are you open for trade, supplies?’
‘Might be,’ grunts the voice. ‘You gotta permit? Ain’t seen the likes of you before – got the height for a Skard, but yer speak too proper. I’m Jackson, clerk of the White Wolf Trading Company. Now, don’t you be trying any funny business now – you can see I taken all the necessary precautions.’ As if to underline the point, you hear another rattle and a thud, this time to your right. Another crossbow has dropped down from the ceiling, its bolt trained at your head.
(If you have the keyword hunted on your hero sheet, turn to 92.)
Will you:
Ask to see his wares? 151
Ask about trading? 327
Ask about his ‘precautions’? 549
Ask if he has any news? 450
Trade items? (requirement: permit) 730
Leave? Return to the map
275
After an hour of trekking eastwards you finally spy a cave opening, little more than a narrow cleft in the side of the glacier. A strong musty odour of decay seeps from within – you feel Nanuk’s uneasiness, his pacing back and forth.
‘What is it?’ you whisper to yourself, drawing your weapons.
Nanuk responds with a reverberating growl, his mind pushing into yours, his strength cording your muscles. You have never known him to react in such a way.
Cautiously, you advance into the tunnel. There is spoor on the ground: droppings and claw marks. Some animal must have made its home here. A few metres in the tunnel becomes a wider cave, the ice giving way to black rock. You notice veins of magic glowing beneath its surface, just like the shard that Reah showed you.
The stink comes from the corpses. Human and animal. And the decaying creature that is shuffling at the back of the cave – a polar bear, or something that may have once passed for one. Its white fur is matted with pus, weeping from the sores and lesions that cover its body. As the animal turns its muzzle, sniffing at the air, you see that is obviously blind – the pupils of its eyes have whitened to a milky haze.
The bear senses you, lifting its head to emit an ear-shattering roar. Then the savage giant bounds towards you, its huge claws ripping through the ice. It is time to fight:
Speed Brawn Armour Health
Doomta 5 3 3 60
Special abilities
Blind rage: At the end of the fourth combat round, the bear will go into a berserk rage. This lowers its speed by 1 but raises its brawn by 3 for the remainder of the combat.
Disease: Once you have taken health damage from Doomta’s damage score, you must lose a further 2 health at the end of each combat round, ignoring armour.
If you manage to defeat this corrupted predator, turn to 3.
276
Tired and miserable, you decide to tell the truth. The woman listens to your story in silence, her expression unchanging. As you draw to its end, choosing to omit the part about the strange demon, a hint of irritation creeps into your voice. Why doesn’t this woman show any concern or alarm? She didn’t flinch when you described the bloody massacre on the road or the very fact that you are a crown prince of the realm.
Your words falter to silence, waiting expectantly for a response.
The women regards you for a moment longer, then gives a dismissive snort. ‘I’ve heard some tall tales in my time, boy . . .’
‘It’s true,’ you implore, feeling your anger surge once again. ‘Would I have this if I was just some . . . some commoner?’ You lift the scabbard at your side, showing her its jewels and the holy inscriptions on the hilt. ‘This is Duran’s Heart. A named blade, given to me on my thirteenth birthday.’
The woman takes a step closer, but her eyes linger on your face rather than the blade. ‘You could have stolen it.’
Her accusation startles you. ‘I’m no thief! You can have the sword – I can’t even touch the cursed thing.’
The woman’s frown returns. ‘Is this true?’
Too late, you realise what you have done, blurting out your secret with no mind to the consequences. To confess such a thing is almost tantamount to treason.
‘I can only touch the scabbard,’ you reply honestly, seeing no reason to spin a lie now you’ve gone this far. ‘Since I was given it, the inscriptions have always . . .’ You struggle for the words.
‘Rejected you?’ the woman supplies thoughtfully.
You nod, trying to gauge her reaction. This secret is one you have only shared once before, with your nursemaid Molly. And you doubt she’ll be telling anyone now.
‘You’re no witchfinder, then,’ the woman appears to visibly relax. ‘Perhaps there is some truth in what you say after all.’ (Make a note of the word prince on your hero sheet, then turn to 249.)
277
The bearded warrior is tearing at a hunk of meat. He stops eating as you approach, his mouth hanging open with half-chewed food.
‘Thought you might want these.’ You place the gauntlets on the table, then await his response.
Ran finally closes his mouth, chewing and swallowing his food. After wiping his fingers on his jerkin, he lifts up one of the gauntlets to inspect it. He nods, his smile widening. ‘Where did you find ’em?’
‘It’s a long story,’ you reply, glancing warily at the other soldiers. ‘Maybe best not to ask too many questions.’
‘The thief?’
‘Has learnt their lesson.’
Ran leans back, fumbling for something by his waist. After much grunting, he drops a small leather pouch onto the table. ‘That’s some of me earnings and a little keepsake. Take it. Least I can do.’
You pick up the pouch, opening it up to find it filled with gold. You also spot a plain copper ring amongst the glittering coins. ‘No, you keep this . . .’
Ran puts out his hands, shaking his head. ‘Won’t hear another word. I like to reward honesty – trust me, not much of that around ’ere. Me, I’m just content with a full belly and a pillow for me head. Now shoot, before I change my mind.’
You have gained 50 gold crowns and the following item:
Constant copper
(ring)
+1 brawn +1 magic
Ability: watchful
After thanking the soldier, you leave the hall and return to the courtyard. Remove the keyword gains from your hero sheet, then turn to 113.
278
You find yourself in a small, cobwebbed chamber lit by an eerie green orb of light
. It slowly circles the room, illuminating shabby-looking shelves and cupboards and piles of wooden boxes and trunks. The air is thick with dust and the stale stench of decay.
A quick search reveals that this space is some kind of store-room. As well as mildewed books and some chipped stone tablets covered in runes, you also find various arcane objects – wands, staffs and charms – and a few musty items of clothing, which you assume must be enchanted in some way. Clearly, Segg must have collected these over the course of his lifetime; perhaps some were pilfered from the dark creatures that have assailed this keep.
Aware that you might be discovered at any time, you hurry your search for something useful. Three items catch your eye: a book of spells, written onto sheets of flayed human skin; a pair of black boots frosted with ice; and a stone tablet, its pock-mocked surface crawling with dark runes of death and necromancy.
You may now choose up to two of the following items:
Jeeper’s creepers Little nippers Tome of Necromancy
(left hand: spell book) (feet) (backpack)
+1 speed +1 magic +1 speed Use at any time to
Ability: wither Ability: silver frost remove one death
penalty from your hero
When you have made your choice, you quickly pull on the book levers to flip the wall and return to the main library. From here, you may enter Segg’s quarters and speak with the mage (turn to 328) or return to the courtyard (turn to 113).
279
‘Oh, they’re prospectors,’ explains the thief. He lifts his chin, scanning the tops of the tents. ‘Ryker’s clever, been using them to check out the rifts and tunnels, check what’s safe before he sends his men in. Look, over there.’ He tugs on your arm and points to a pair of elegantly-dressed gentlemen with scented pomanders held to their noses. Behind them, hovering at shoulder height, are two globes of yellow magic.
The Eye of Winter's Fury Page 25