The Eye of Winter's Fury

by Michael J. Ward

  611

  ‘Skoll believed you would have answers – the whereabouts of the last shield fragment.’ You look upon the strange woman, questioning your own wisdom in trusting such a being. ‘He believes the witch has a plan, to release a monster from the underworld.’

  He speaks the truth. Aisa has many agents. Queen Melusine, the witch, was once like you. Her thread mirrors your own. Loneliness. Betrayal. Revenge. Aisa has pushed her down a very dark path.

  ‘And the shield?’ you persist. ‘We need to find the last piece.’

  The woman glares at you mutely. The demon has it. The one that holds you in thrall. I tried to safeguard it. I tried to keep it from her, but Aisa is too powerful now. You must defeat the demon. Take it from him and return to your world. You are not safe here. Not safe.

  (Return to 713 to ask another question or turn to 760 to end the conversation.)

  612

  You place the ‘three of snakes’ on the discard pile and pick a new stone from the bag. You have gained the ‘three of crowns’.

  You have the following stones:

  The monk takes his turn with an almost wearisome air, tossing the stone that he picked back onto the discard pile. You wonder if he’s already got a winning hand or is simply bluffing. It is now your move.

  Will you:

  Play your current hand? 593

  Discard the one of crowns? 522

  Discard the three of swords? 487

  613

  It is almost impossible to keep up with the fleet-footed Skard – he shifts his weight expertly, sending you stumbling and sliding over the ice in your attempts to hit him. Frustration gets the better of you, your attacks becoming more impatient and ill-timed, until you leave yourself wide open to a counter-attack.

  Desnar brings his staff up and under your guard, the antlers grappling your legs and throwing you up into the air. As you crash down onto your back the ice splinters beneath you, and then you are falling – hitting the chill waters with a thunderous splash.

  For several panicked moments, you lose all sense of direction. The light refracts through the mantle of the lake, turning the waters into a sparkling, blinding assault. Desperately you kick in the direction you believe will lead you to the surface, your head slamming against a hard wall of ice. You swing your weapons, hoping to break through, but the water makes your movements sluggish, taking the strength out of your blows.

  I cannot drown, you remind yourself. But the knowledge is cold comfort as you beat and claw at the ice, finding no way through. Your panic only intensifies – the thought of being trapped in this blinding, ice cold prison fills you with terror.

  Then you see a shadow blotting out the light. Something hits the ice, cracking it. The water vibrates with the pounding blows. Another crack, then the ice is spilling away. A hand reaches down, knotted with muscle, settling around your arm and yanking you upwards. You grapple onto the edge of the ice, levering yourself the rest of the way.

  You lie dripping on the surface of the lake, eyes tightly closed against the painful light. A shadow looms across you once again. You look up to see Desnar, his staff held tight in both hands, ready to bring it down in a fatal strike.

  ‘I yield!’ You cough, heaving a torrent of frigid water onto the ice. ‘I yield.’

  Desnar nods, looking satisfied. ‘Halstek mine,’ he states, as if the matter is now concluded. He turns and heads back across the ice, evidently not caring if you stay or follow. Shakily, you find your feet and start after the Skard, your mind picturing Sura’s disappointment when she learns of the outcome. Turn to 578.

  614

  The first mile is a chaotic scramble as racers desperately attempt to pull ahead whilst defending themselves from their opponents. There are explosions and screams. The broken wreckage of a sled spirals past, one of its razor-edged runners missing your head by scant inches.

  You veer away from the crowd, avoiding the bottlenecks where the sleds have become bunched together, spikes and armour sparking as they meet. You are about to take an early lead –when a crevasse streaks out of nowhere, cutting across your path.

  Your dog-team react instinctively, pulling your sled into a tight turn. The crevasse sweeps round to your left as you knife through the snow to reach safer ground. That’s when you experience the teeth-jarring thump as another racer slams into you.

  ‘Time to take a dip, rookie!’

  You look round to see a fellow racer pulling alongside – a mast of stretched seal-skin giving his sled added momentum. With a triumphant howl he slams into you once again, forcing your sled nearer to the crevasse. As you skirt along its edge, you catch a worrying glimpse of the cold dark waters waiting for you below.

  You will need to take a challenge test using your toughness attribute:

  Toughness

  Early dive 14

  If you are successful, turn to 248. Otherwise, turn to 198.

  615

  Leaping over the severed tentacles, you plunge your weapons into Caul’s chest. The trapper gives a monstrous screech, his face twisted into a mask of painful torment, then he vanishes – leaving you staring dumbfounded at the empty space.

  ‘I WAS THE ONE WHO LED YOU HERE, MORTAL. THESE ARE BUT MY SLAVES. MY GHOSTS.’ The voice thunders all around you, shaking the very walls of the cavern. ‘THEY WERE WEAK. USELESS TO ME. BUT YOU! WITH YOUR MAGIC I WILL TRULY BE REBORN. FAFNIR WILL LIVE AGAIN!’

  There is a terrible ripping sound. Ice rains down from above, forcing you to cover your head from the deluge. When you are finally able to look up again, you see that the drake is clambering down the far wall, its huge talons tearing into the ice.

  You contemplate running, your eyes scanning back to the tunnel that Caul made with his dagger. But the reptilian monster is already rushing across the ice towards you, its twin heads dripping with a foul, black ichor. There is no escape – it is time to fight:

  Speed Brawn Armour Health

  Drake head 5 4 4 40

  Drake head 5 4 4 40

  Special abilities

  Frost fire: At the end of each combat round, you must take 2 damage from each surviving opponent, ignoring armour. (If you have the insulated ability, this damage is reduced to 1 per opponent.)

  If you manage to defeat this ancient terror, turn to 680.

  616

  You raise your hand, sending a torrent of magic into the venom-dripping branches. Their dry bark withers and snaps under your assault, dropping the warrior to the ground. He lies, huddled and shivering, his lacerated body still steaming from the poison.

  You kneel at his side, pulling the matted blond hair away from his face. ‘Skoll?’

  The half-giant’s eyes snap open with a sudden fierceness. You manage to lurch away just in time as his wide hands grapple for you.

  ‘I came to save you,’ you state quickly, keeping a wary distance from the disorientated warrior. ‘I am not your enemy.’

  The warrior struggles to his knees, the scoured marks under his eyes weeping venomous tears. ‘A hundred years,’ he rumbles. ‘A hundred years of pain.’ He clenches his fists, cording the thick veins along his arms. ‘You are not a Skard.’

  Without pause, he pushes himself to his feet. You back away, taking in his full height – almost seven feet tall, his imposing body ridged by slabs of hard muscle. ‘Vindsvall . . .’ His eyes narrow as if suddenly remembering some long forgotten purpose. ‘The shield . . . Fimbulwinter. I must return her. The Ska-inuin need me.’

  If Leif is with you, turn to 772. Otherwise, turn to 400.

  617

  The three of you advance cautiously through the deep snow, bound to one another by a length of rope. Skoll leads the way, carefully testing the ground with his spear for any hidden crevasses. At last, after several hours of hiking, the ground becomes firmer underfoot, gradually turning from rock to ice as you near the intimidating wall of the North Face.

  ‘Are we meant to go around this?’ you ask, squinting up at the summit thousands of metre
s above you. Up close you realise that the entire edifice is leaning forward, its upmost tip curling over like a breaking wave. The ice walls are sheer, offering little purchase for a climber. Reaching the summit appears nigh on impossible.

  Skoll shakes his head. ‘Going around – that would take many days.’

  Anise is sat on her pack, already exhausted from the long march. ‘I can’t climb,’ she gasps despondently. ‘Please, I can’t.’

  ‘We don’t have to,’ replies Skoll. He points to a symbol etched into a nearby boulder. ‘There is a passage through. Dangerous. But it is the only way.’

  As you continue to scan the great ice barrier, you notice a winged shape wheeling in circles overhead. At first you assume it is a bird, but the wings are too large – the body hinting at more human-like dimensions.

  ‘Is that Habrok?’ you enquire doubtfully, shielding your eyes from the glare of the surrounding ice.

  Skoll follows your gaze. ‘I sent him south to gather my people. He would not come here . . .’

  The shape continues to wheel above you, the sunlight catching on the claws of its feet, the spines that protrude from its broad, scaly shoulders. Then realisation dawns.

  ‘It’s the demon!’ you cry, remembering back to the Wiccans’ ambush and the strange creature that saved your life. ‘He told me to run – back when I was attacked, before I came to Bitter Keep.’

  Anise puts a hand to her sword. ‘Does that make him a friend or foe?’

  You frown. ‘I don’t know. I just remember what he said – something about the fates setting me on this path.’

  ‘The fates?’ Skoll raises an eyebrow. ‘He may know of the weaver.’

  You raise a hand, igniting it with magic to form a glowing beacon. You then proceed to wave it back and forth, hoping to grab the demon’s attention.

  It is difficult to tell if you have been spotted; the creature has started to gain height, its silvery-white wings blurring as they beat faster. Gradually the demon grows smaller and smaller, until he is lost to the shadows beneath the curling summit.

  Skoll gives a dismissive snort. ‘Come – we must keep moving.’

  He helps Anise to her feet then takes up her pack, shouldering its weight along with his own. Together they head up the slope, following the direction marked on the boulder. You hold back for a moment, pensively watching the skies – wondering what has brought the demon this far north. You reach for Nanuk, questing for answers. None are forthcoming.

  Grudgingly, you snuff out the beacon. ‘Friend or foe,’ you mutter. ‘Pray it is not the latter, demon.’ Tugging down your hood, you turn and head after your companions.

  You may now turn to 551 to begin the Act 2 green quest, Angels and demons.

  618

  Talia turns to leave, then pauses. ‘Okay, okay, you won me over.’ She reaches for one of her swords, tugging it free from the scabbard. ‘You know, I wouldn’t normally part with my favourite toy, but for you, sweet pea, it’s all yours.’ Talia offers out the weapon, its transparent blade still glowing with magic. ‘Venetia glass. Holds a note better than I do – I can teach you, if you’d like.’

  You may now take the following item:

  Dusky sonnet

  (main hand: glass sword)

  +1 speed +2 brawn

  Ability: sure edge, bleed

  You may also learn the bard career. The bard has the following special abilities:

  Good vibrations (co): Turn your swords into vibrating blades of death. This doubles the brawn modifier of any glass swords you have equipped, for one combat round only. This ability can only be used once per combat.

  Deadly dance (sp): Goad your opponent with a series of dodges and feints. This automatically lowers their speed by 2 for one combat round, but raises their brawn/magic by 1 for the remainder of the combat. This ability can be used twice in the same combat, but each time it is used your opponent’s brawn/magic is increased.

  When you have made your decision Talia blows you a kiss and then departs, leaving you alone in the secret laboratory. Turn to 747.

  619

  You skid down the sandy slope, magic flashing from your weapons. Below you, Nanuk and the wolf are rolling amidst a dark cloud of dust, the thick air affording only momentary glimpses of teeth, fur and thrashing limbs.

  Your bolt of magic takes the wolf in the chest, sending it scampering away with a howl. Nanuk swings round, his anger readily apparent. His mind pushes against your own, insisting you return to the others.

  You note his wounds – the bite marks along his torso, the skin and fur hanging from his throat. The great bear’s breathing is laboured. He may have weight and strength on his side but the wolf is an agile opponent, using speed to whittle down his opponent’s stamina.

  ‘We fight together, Nanuk,’ you insist. ‘Old friend.’

  Nanuk snorts, but you sense his grateful acceptance.

  The wolf has dropped back onto its haunches, its head raised to the whirling crimson skies. Then he issues another howl – a mourner’s wail. Within seconds, you hear the padding of feet. You turn to see a pack of dark shadows streaming towards you; wolves with bodies fashioned from mist and darkness, their eyes burning with fire.

  ‘Wolves,’ you remark grimly, putting your back to Nanuk’s. ‘Why does it always have to be wolves?’

  Nanuk gives a bellowing roar in answer, his massive paws swiping through the air, trying to keep the wolves at bay. The pack closes in, forming a circle around you, heads low to the ground, drool spilling over their cruel fangs. Your eyes scan back to the spirit wolf. A name forms in your mind: Sleet. You meet his gaze – a single yellow eye.

  He snarls.

  You bare your teeth, issuing your own animal-like growl. Then you both spring at one another, a bestial rage fuelling your strikes. It is time to fight:

  Speed Magic Armour Health

  Sleet 13 8 6 80

  Shadow warg 12 6 5 20

  Shadow warg 12 6 5 20

  Shadow warg 12 6 5 20

  Shadow warg 12 6 5 20

  Special abilities

  Tendon ripper: Each time you take health damage from Sleet’s damage score, you must lower your speed by 1 for the next combat round.

  Slashing claws: At the end of each combat round, you must take 1 damage from each opponent remaining in combat.

  Bear power!: Nanuk adds 2 to your damage score for the duration of this combat.

  If you manage to fend off your savage attackers, turn to 758.

  620

  For besting Desnar and becoming leader of the bear tribe, your bond with Nanuk’s spirit has strengthened. You have also gained the following special ability:

  Recuperation (dm): Gain 1 health at the end of each combat round for the rest of the combat. This ability can only be used once per combat.

  When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to 721.

  621

  Hands wrestle hold of your arms and shoulders. Angrily you try and break free, twisting your head to see two stern-faced guards standing either side of you.

  ‘You’re under arrest, traitor,’ barks one.

  ‘For crimes against the throne,’ snarls the other.

  Before you can react, the guards shove you forward.

  The scene dissolves as you are propelled at speed. Wind rushes past you, stinking of death and rot, and then you slam hard into a stone wall. Recovering quickly you spin round, only to find yourself trapped in a stone shaft with walls on either side. Above you, the shaft rises a hundred metres or more towards a red sky, torn by fast-moving cloud.

  ‘She wants me to keep you, as a plaything,’ whispers the voice in your ear. ‘But you are proving troublesome. More powerful than we thought.’

  ‘Let me go!’ you snarl angrily. ‘Face me, coward!’

  There is a wet-sounding slurp. Then you find yourself slipping . . . sinking.

  The ground has become a fetid mire of mud and dirt. Maggots, worms and other crawling insects squirm out of the dank soil. Yo
u are gradually being pulled under, the mire sucking you down into its clammy, wet depths.

  ‘The dead should stay in the ground,’ hisses the voice, ‘don’t you agree?’

  Mocking laughter fills your ears. Desperately, your hands scrabble against the smooth stone, trying to gain leverage and stop your descent. But you are sinking fast, the worm-ridden filth already rising past your waist.

  If you have the silver acorn and wish to use it, turn to 381. Otherwise, turn to 7.

  622

  You regret the outcome of your actions, but it was the only way of stopping such a dangerous weapon from getting into the wrong hands. Searching Talia’s body, you find 50 gold crowns and a chipped emerald (simply make a note of this on your hero sheet, it doesn’t take up backpack space).

  You rip up the formula, then begin a search of the secret laboratory. Turn to 747.

  623

  (Note: You must have completed the orange quest The crossing before you access this location)

  If you have the keyword survivors on your hero sheet, turn to 644. Otherwise, read on.

  A dark spire of smoke draws you to the island. A cooking fire, perhaps – or a distress signal. Certainly a hopeful sign of life amidst this scattered archipelago.

  As you sweep down across the wind-blown plains, it quickly becomes apparent that you will need to make landfall – the streaming currents of dust make it impossible to discern the true nature of the terrain, and its potential dangers.

  You set down on the far side, then head inwards to find the source of the smoke. Swathed in thick cloaks and scarves, hoods drawn low, you stumble through the whirling sand, guided only by the wan light of the sun – so distant and small amidst the storm-laden skies.

  As you near the centre of the island, you sight a tumble of ruins. Several walls and a tower loom out of the mist, their edges blunted and crumbling by the driving wind. The smoke is coming from something large lying behind the tower.