You shake your head. ‘Bitter Keep is no more. Your friend – I have seen no sign.’
Reah puts a gloved mitt to your arm. ‘Please, we cannot leave here until we find out what happened to the others. They went into the caves – we won’t know peace otherwise.’
Will you:
Ask what they are doing in the canyon? 237
Ask how you might help? (starts the quest) 146
333
You clamber up onto a dusty plateau, where columns of rock cut a ragged outline against the sky. Their careful arrangement gives the impression of something man-made, perhaps the remains of a temple or a once-grand amphitheatre.
You pass between the high pillars, listening to the singing and cawing from the hundreds of nests perched precariously on the scarred stone. Much of the ground is crusted with droppings, the wind carrying its stink to your nostrils. There are also broken shells and feathers, and some brown straggly weeds, miraculously clinging to life in this barren place.
‘No . . . not come here.’
The voice is faint, barely a whisper. For a moment, you wonder if you imagined it. Then you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. A brief blur of white, the patter of feet. When you try and follow it, you are left staring at empty corridors of rock, a few white petrel feathers gusting through the air.
‘No, not the eyrie.’
Another flurry of footsteps. You hurry around the nearest pillar, again finding no-one.
‘My place. This is mine.’
‘Who are you?’ You spin angrily, tired of the game.
Squatted on a rock is a man – at least you think it is a man. His clothes are covered in hundreds of feathers, stitched into the fur. Long strips of leather hang down across his bowed legs, dressed again with feathers to give the appearance of wings.
He makes a clicking sound at the back of his throat, head twitching. ‘Eyrie for the birds,’ he rasps, his words thin and strained, like someone for whom language has become foreign. ‘Not for stinking carrion.’
You spread your palms, backing away. ‘I’m just passing through,’ you reply guardedly.
The man’s age seems indeterminate – his face a mask of grime and sweat, the wild hair caked in mud. ‘This the birdman’s home,’ he huffs, flicking his head back. ‘Protect the nest. The eggs. The birds.’
He scoops up a rock, flinging it in your direction. You dodge it easily, leaving it to shatter against the wall behind you. When you look back, the birdman has gone. Suddenly, you hear the scuff of footsteps to your left. You swing round just in time to catch the birdman as he bounds into you, a pair of clawed knives gripped tightly in his fists. You must now fight:
Speed Brawn Armour Health
Birdman 2 1 2 20
Special abilities
Spitting feathers: If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is or less, the birdman swipes you with his feathered wings, knocking you back. This prevents you from rolling for damage. The combat round ends and a new one starts. If the result is or more, you can roll for damage as normal.
If you manage to cull this crazy ex-convict, turn to 421. 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.
334
Congratulations! You have obtained a bottle of Bowfinch ’55 (simply make a note of this item on your hero sheet, it does not take up backpack space. You can also remove the keyword Bowfinch from your hero sheet. Remember to deduct 100 gold crowns.)
Make a note of paragraph number 190. When you wish to return to Gurt and hand over this rare item (to continue the red quest, The Hall of Vindsvall) turn to 190 at any time.
You may now remain in the taproom (turn to 80) or leave (turn to 659).
335
The guard displays his hand to you. The guard has the following stones:
In the centre of the table is a black velvet bag, containing the remaining stones that have yet to enter play. It is the guard’s turn to discard one of the stones in his hand and take a replacement from the bag. ‘What shall I do?’ he asks worriedly, scratching his balding pate.
Across the table, the hooded ghost waits for your move in deathly silence.
Will you:
Discard the one of hearts? 480
Discard the two of moons? 241
Discard the one of stars? 417
336
The very air seems to vibrate as a cold shadow stretches across the rooftop. You turn, just in time to see the last of the drakelings rushing in, its entire body aflame. Segg gives an anguished cry, throwing up his arms. Then the immense beast smashes into the side of the tower.
You are thrown through a thunderous whirlwind of dust, free-falling as the spiked rooftop pitches after you, tearing through the smoke-smeared skies. You hear screams from below, the sound of rocks pummelling the earth. A reptilian body sweeps past you, its tail smacking into your chest and knocking you into a dizzying spin. You put out your arms, trying desperately to halt your fall. Turn to 320.
337
Legendary monster: Sasquatch
It appears you weren’t the only one to gate-crash the party. Another guest goes flying overhead, cutting the air with a deafening squeal. A violin follows – then some plates and a goblet. A freshly-roasted pig brings up the rear. From the pavilion tent, the screaming intensifies as people struggle to beat their way out, wigs and bonnets askew in the mad scramble to escape.
Five minutes earlier, you had been drawn to the clearing by the sound of music and merriment. Inside the tent a table had been laid for dinner, groaning under the weight of the fruit and meats served up out of the vast array of picnic hampers. The guests, a gaudy array of Valeron nobles, laughed and gossiped in refined comfort, picking daintily at their tiny servings, whilst occasionally clapping the efforts of the string quartet.
You had watched from the tree-line, wary of the dogs lying next to the sledges – and the armed guardsmen patrolling the perimeter. It may have been an ill-advised decision to hold a party in the middle of a wild forest, but clearly the nobles hadn’t come completely unprepared.
That is, until the hunting team arrived back. Running out of the trees, screaming at the top of their lungs. One of their number was stumbling, blood soaking through his breeches. Another was casting wild glances past his shoulder.
Then the yeti came, kicking up a great flurry of snow, a nine-foot giant of shaggy brown hair. Its huge fists scooped up the stragglers with ease, tossing them over its broad shoulders as if they were little more than twigs. They broke in a similar fashion too, bones cracking noisily as they rolled and tumbled through the treetops.
The musicians finally heard the screaming. Their melody ended in a screech of strings.
It has been pandemonium ever since.
Party-goers are now hurrying towards one of the sledges, elbowing and shunting each other to secure a space. In their panic, they don’t see the beast until it is too late. The yeti snatches up the entire craft, dogs and all, then with a single twist of its huge shoulders hurls the sledge back into the forest. Jingling harnesses accompany the whimpering howls of the surprised hounds.
The other dog-teams are wise enough to break for the trees, chased by the guests desperate to catch a ride. They never make it, as the yeti drags the entire tent off its supports, swinging the canvas round like a giant club, cracking through bodies and smashing the sledges to smithereens. A few of the guardsmen who haven’t already lost their resolve and fled attempt to encircle the beast – but they can’t get close enough to draw blood. The yeti picks them up in its leathery paws, then tosses them away like a toddler mad with its toys.
You can understand the beast’s rage. Blood seeps from a puncture wound in the yeti’s left shoulder. Beneath its ribcage you can see the broken shaft of a spear. The brash hunters thought they could best this mighty creature – perhaps take its valuable pelt as a trophy. Out here, in the frozen wilds, there are no second chances.
&nb
sp; You draw your weapons and step into the clearing, prepared now to finish the job – and put this beast out of its painful misery. It is time to fight:
Speed Brawn Armour Health
Sasquatch 8 7 4 60
Special abilities
Swat back: If you lose a combat round, roll a die. On a or result, the Sasquatch attacks as normal. If the result is or more, its mighty paws swat you backwards. This immediately inflicts 2 dice of damage, ignoring armour. It also sets up a ground smash (see below).
Ground smash: If the Sasquatch uses swat back, you must immediately take a speed challenge to dodge its follow-up attack. If the result is 14 or less, you are hit and must take a further 1 dice of damage, ignoring armour. If the result is 15 or more, you dodge the attack.
If you manage to defeat the enraged yeti, turn to 183.
338
You don’t remember much of the fight, but you can still taste it. The blood clogs your senses, as does the presence pushing at the back of your mind. For an instant, a shadow wavers across the ground, a broad immensity of darkness – a silhouette of a bear.
You blink, not sure if what you are seeing is real or just one of the dreams. The rocks and the trees start to blur – smudged with a green luminescence.
I’m dreaming? No, perhaps I’m dying . . .
You blink.
Stones crunch and skitter away. You are stumbling through the forest, lurching from one tree to the next, a residue of your former strength helping to keep you upright. But you know it is a futile effort – with the wounds you have sustained, the blood you have lost, there is no doubting that you will die out here, alone in this vast, indifferent wilderness.
You blink.
Hands grope over black rocks and sand. You feel the icy cold of the other place wash over you. Painfully you lift your head to see a swirling maelstrom of cloud above, flecked with bursts of ghoulish lightning. The dream. You are back in the dream.
You blink.
The scene remains. A bleak wasteland of blackness. Columns of rock rise up to claw at the sky, forming endless corridors of clutching fingers. And between them, the stray shadows watch. The demons. They stretch closer, their wraith-like forms sweeping over the wind-tossed sand. You are too weak to run, too weak to defend yourself.
Let it end, just let it end.
Then you feel a sudden rush of air – a black body goes barrelling past you, swiping at the shadow demons, ripping through their bodies. A gravelly roar thunders back from the rocks, as the immense beast rears up on two hind limbs, the orange glow from his deep-set eyes shining like lanterns in the dark. The shadows recoil, screeching and crying, leaving you unharmed.
The beast drops onto all fours and turns his head. The wind tussles through a thick mane of hair, rippling over broad shoulders and across his back. A giant grizzly of a bear. Nanuk. The word is whispered in your mind.
‘Nanuk. Is that your name?’
The animal edges forward, nudging his muzzle against your chest. You stroke the thick, dark fur, feeling its warmth – the first comfort you have felt in this cold, nightmarish place. The bear shifts himself beside you, curling around you protectively, letting you snuggle into his fur.
In that moment, you suddenly feel whole again – as if a broken part of yourself has been returned and mended. You keep a tight hold of the animal, leeching strength from your bond, wondering if you will ever awake from the dream – or if this is how it will be, for all eternity. Turn to 291.
339
Searching through the graveyard, you find a mammoth pelt (simply make a note of this on your hero sheet, it does not take up backpack space) and the following item:
Bone dust
(special)
Use on a cloak, gloves, boots or chest item
you have equipped to add the
special ability fear
If you have the keyword tracker on your hero sheet, turn to 250. Otherwise, return to the quest map to continue your adventure.
340
Black smoke trails into the air as the fire takes quickly, snapping hungrily at the dry timber.
‘Min eld, Min eld in Gava!’ The Skard warrior raises his arms to the sky, his barking laughter an odd accompaniment to the roaring flame.
At the front of the cart, the panicked horse bucks and rears, pulling frantically against its harness. The fire is now eating along the leather cords, edging closer to the fear-stricken animal.
Suddenly, there is movement from the boulders to your left. A woman’s cry echoes back from the canyon walls as Henna runs out of hiding, her two-handed sword raised high above her head. Ignoring the Skard she charges towards the horse, bringing her sword down in a series of desperate swings, severing the harness. As the last cord snaps, the horse bolts for freedom.
The warrior strides towards Henna, presenting a mountain of muscle, his teeth bared. Somehow a javelin has made it into his hands, slipping effortlessly from the bindings at his side. He lifts it up, preparing to throw it.
You charge forward, calling out to divert his attention. He spins on you, his cold eyes narrowing to splinters of hatred – then you shoulder into him, taking you both spinning and flailing through the thick black smoke. It is time to fight:
Speed Brawn Armour Health
Igluk 2 2 1 40
Special abilities
Watch my back: Henna adds 2 to your damage score for the duration of this combat.
If you manage to defeat this ferocious warrior, turn to 45. 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.
341
‘A-ha, our ice ghost returns,’ grins the organiser, patting you on the shoulder. ‘Are yer ready to get racing?’ (If you have the keyword rookie on your hero sheet, turn to 189. If you have the keyword veteran on your hero sheet, turn to 529.)
342
‘My father always frowned on magic – he was an army man, believed in steel and faith.’ You stoop to pick up the book, brushing the dust from its red leather cover. ‘He had an advisor, Avian Dale. He once told me I might have the talent, but I don’t think I really listened – perhaps I didn’t want to.’
‘Avian Dale,’ the mage nods, taking back the book. ‘Understandable that your father would want to shelter you from magic. He had the Church forever at his back, a formidable power and some might say, a domineering one – I doubt he would want a royal son to be practising the forbidden art.’
‘It’s not exactly forbidden though, is it?’ You gesture to the spell books, scattered across the desk. ‘Providing one learns to control it – then there’s no harm.’
Segg drops the book onto his chair, staring at it for a long time. When he speaks, the flames flutter wildly in the brazier, sweeping across him in bands of shadow. ‘The Church has strong views when it comes to magic. They believe it should be controlled, for all our sakes. Better for it to be seen than hidden away and go underground. That is why they permitted the University to be built in Talanost. So mages could learn to master their powers. Magic is dangerous, have no doubt about that. In some ways, I agree with what they did.’ His eyes stray to the fire. ‘But I fear times are changing. The shadow war – the destruction of Talanost, Wiccans ranging across our countryside, rumours of a new emperor in Mordland. All these are fuel for their holy fires, to condemn us all as heretics.’
‘You aren’t really selling the whole magic thing,’ you reply, smirking. ‘Do you want to teach me this or not?’
Your bluntness draws Segg from his reverie. A crooked smile twitches his lips. ‘The impatience of youth, eh? Just like Harris. Yes, you have a natural talent, boy – powerful, I’d say. But you’re not quite ready yet. Some careful study, and – yes.’ He nods approvingly. ‘I think I could make something of you, boy.’
Will you:
Ask about your strange condition? 234
Ask if he knows anything about the dreams? 120
Return to the library? 353
The knight lifts his arms to his side, his heavy cloak writhing and flailing in the buffeting gale.
‘No!’ You start forward, looking to stop him. But you cannot reach the knight in time. He steps off from the wall, plummeting from sight in the blink of an eye.
You grab hold of the battlements, leaning over the edge to watch as the ghost’s light is swallowed by the darkness.
‘There was nothing you could have done,’ says Anise, joining you at your side. ‘They’re ghosts, reliving the past.’
‘Perhaps the medallion . . .’ You shake your head, torn with regret.
‘They will not find peace, not in this place.’ Anise turns back to the rooftop, eyes scanning the dirt and debris. ‘We must think about the living. Harris and . . .’ She stops suddenly, her words cut short. You look around, confused by what has caught her attention. Then realisation dawns.
‘No signal fire . . .’ The girl looks to you in bewilderment. ‘What are we going to do now?’ Turn to 560.
344
You duck into the cave, the low ceiling forcing you to stoop. After several metres the tunnel mouth widens, lifting to form a dome-like impression. The surface of the rock is pitted with hundreds of holes and channels, some wide and dripping with water, others little more than narrow fractures. A few open out to the sky above, filtering shafts of pale light into the chamber.
The opening is cluttered with boulders and loose stone – but once past the rubble, the ground is smooth and even. On the other side you see another tunnel-like opening leading deeper into the rock.
Will you:
Hide and ambush the hunter? 166
Head deeper into the cave? 247
345
You flatten out into a dive, putting arms straight, arrowing your fingers, trying to make yourself as small and sleek a missile as possible. Nevertheless, you hit the pool with a painful thwack, bones splintering and muscles ripping free of their tendons as you plunge into its dark bubbling depths. (You must roll once on the death penalty chart and immediately apply the effect to your hero. You must also lose one backpack item.) Then turn to 696.
The Eye of Winter's Fury Page 31