Creeping cold (co + pa): Instead of rolling for a damage score, you can cast creeping cold on one opponent. This does 1 damage at the end of every combat round. For each result you roll for any subsequent damage scores, creeping cold increases its damage by 1. This ability can only be used once.
Malefic runes (mo): For each opponent you defeat (reduced to zero health), you may raise your magic score by 1 for the remainder of the combat.
When you have made your decision, turn to 677.
644
The ruins are deserted and Hal’s peculiar balloon is nowhere to be found. You can only assume that the explorer was able to repair his ship and has now headed back south – away from the destruction and the chaos. As you huddle deeper into your cloak, braced against the wind and the constant barrage of dust, you can’t help but feel a pang of home-sickness, wishing you were on board that ship, headed home at last. (Return to the quest map to continue your adventure.)
645
Desnar raises his staff and gives a barking cry of victory. ‘Taulu nost weak et vall. Desnar herat gost hastnet!’
His own warriors break into smiles and laughter – a few echoing his words. The rest of the gathering remain reverently silent. All eyes turn to Sura.
‘The ancestors have spoken,’ proclaims the old woman. She frowns at you, her disappointment evident. ‘Desnar, son of Grendel Innervek – you have been chosen to lead us.’ The old woman offers out the end of her staff. Desnar unhooks the bear necklace and places it over his head. You can’t help but glower jealousy at the band of claws and teeth – the necklace that Taulu had entrusted you with. Part of you wants to rip it free and take it for yourself. Nanuk’s anger is palpable, prickling like thorns in your mind.
But then you hear the Skards’ chanting. Each and every person in the crowd – man, woman and child – has put a hand to their breast, speaking some vow or mantra in unison. There is hope written on their faces. And trust. You realise these people need a figurehead; someone to lead them. Perhaps Desnar will deliver the strength and courage that they need to see out this cruel winter.
The young boy steps forward, peeling back the hide bag he is carrying. You see that it is filled with treasures. Desnar puts his hand into the bag, helping himself to a golden talisman. His eyes meet your own, his lips curling into a conceited grin as he fastens the trinket to his chest.
‘No southlander will ever lead the bear,’ he snaps coldly. ‘Nanuk made mistake in choosing you. Weakling.’
You go to draw your weapons, but a hand settles quickly on your shoulder, gripping it tight, urging restraint. It is Sura.
‘No,’ she whispers. ‘The choice is made. And it cannot be undone. You are no longer protected by vela styker. Turn against one, you turn against all.’ Turn to 721.
646
You place the ‘one of crowns’ 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 this hand? 734
Discard the three of snakes? 446
647
Several of your dogs take a tumble, slamming into the front of your sled and dragging other members of your team with them. The sudden collision forces your sled to lurch out from underneath you, sending you flying across the ice. You crash down in a bruised heap, the remains of your sled showering down around you.
Unfortunately, you have failed to complete the race and are now disqualified from the tournament. Replace the keyword rookie with underdog. Return to the map to continue your adventure.
648
The moment you pick up the book, you hear a grating sound from the walls of the room. Suddenly the floor begins to lower, carrying you past the surrounding bookshelves and down into a dark, cobwebbed recess.
With a sudden lurch you come to a halt, facing an immense door of black stone. Three large keyholes stare vacantly back at you from its face, inviting you to insert a key. The table begins to sparkle with motes of magic then, in a flash of dark brilliance, the books are swept away to be replaced by three rings of keys. All around you other keys start to appear, on the floor, on the chairs, on the table.
You recognise the puzzle from the storybook, but there is one element missing . . .
Then you hear the hissing sound from above.
The ceiling has become a whirling mass of dark smoke, and from it seven giant snake-heads are stretched forward, their mouths held open to reveal venomous black fangs. The smoky mass descends towards you, promising a painful death unless you can open the door in time to escape.
Quickly, you grab the three rings of keys. Each key has a number engraved on its head. You remember from the book that in order to solve Theomus’ puzzle, the hero had to work out which key was missing from each set.
Set one: 21 29 27 35 33 ? 39
Set two: ? 211 223 227 229 233 239
Set three: 1 8 27 64 125 ? 343
Work out the missing number from each sequence (represented by the question mark). Add up the three separate numbers to give you an overall total. Turn to this entry number to see if you solved the puzzle. If the entry you turn to is incorrect, you must immediately roll on the death penalty chart (see entry 98) and then turn to 444.
649
To your surprise the bone key fits the lock perfectly. After a few twists and turns, there is a click and the lid comes open.
Inside the box you discover two clay gourds wrapped in cloth and an odd-shaped metal device, flickering with magic. If you wish you may take any/all of the following items:
Flask of healing Elixir of swiftness Moon dial
(2 uses) (1 use)
(backpack) (backpack) (talisman)
Use any time in combat Increase your speed by 4 +1 brawn +1 magic
to restore 10 health for one combat round Ability: time shift
Pleased with your finds, you retrieve the skeleton key, then continue your journey. Turn to 2.
650
You place the ‘three of swords’ on the discard pile and pick a new stone from the bag. You have gained the ‘four of stars’.
You have the following stones:
The monk takes his turn, then waits for you to make your next move.
Will you:
Play your current hand? 593
Discard the one of crowns 245
Discard the four of hearts? 212
651
It is a long and gruelling battle, but your dogged persistence pays off – the dragons’ magic is finally dispelled. You watch with relief as their rotted bodies collapse into clouds of bones and dust, which plume away into the darkness below.
Congratulations! For defeating the dragons, you may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Cadence Zombie cage Corrupted eye
(left hand: horn) (chest) (ring)
+2 speed +2 brawn +2 speed +2 armour +1 brawn +1 magic
Ability: piercing Ability: thorn armour Ability: disease
(requirement: warrior)
If you are sailing on the Naglfar, turn to 48. If you are flying with Nidhogg the dragon, turn to 542.
652
The herd follow an instinctive pattern. They run for several hundred yards, looking to put distance between themselves and their perceived threat. But once this has been achieved they settle back to grazing. By watching Desnar lay his traps ahead of where he thinks the muttok will run, you begin to understand the Skard’s tactics. He uses his javelins to take down weaker members of the herd, sending the muttok into flight once again. He then races alongside the startled animals, looking to take down as many as he can with his javelins while the hidden traps lame the forerunners, making them easy prey.
This hunting challenge is played over seven rounds. Each round has two
stages:
Hidden traps: Decide if you will place your traps to the east, west or south of the herd. Decide where Desnar will place his (using one of the two remaining locations). Then roll a die. On a or result, the herd go west; or the herd go east; or the herd go south. Whoever’s traps were placed in that direction, roll a die to discover how many muttok fell victim to the traps. (If you are a trapper you may add 1 to this result.)
Race the herd: Using your javelins, you sprint along the flanks of the herd, looking for any stragglers to bring down. Roll two die and add your speed score to the total. For each result over 10, you spear one muttok. (If your total was 15 you would have speared 5 muttok.) Results of 10 or less means you were unsuccessful. Repeat this for Desnar, using a speed of 6.
Keep a running tally of how many muttok you and Desnar have hunted. At the end of the seventh round, the hunter who has the most muttok kills has won the challenge and will be attacked by the Muttok elder – his antlers presenting the greatest hunting trophy.
If you win the challenge, turn to 475. If you lose the challenge, turn to 270. (If the challenge is a draw after seven rounds, continue with the hunt until a winner emerges at the end of a round.)
653
Further into the city the streets are warded with runes – invisible to the naked eye, but to your magic-attuned senses they glimmer brightly, like spider’s webs laced with frost. You doubt they are the witch’s work; more likely one of her coven, as their crafting is weak and easily broken.
But they serve their purpose – to slow your progress.
Another pattern of runes hiss and spark as you unravel their weave. Raising your hand you draw your fingers through the air, leaving your own trace of magic behind, this one visible – a shimmering bear’s claw for your companions to follow.
You’ve almost reached the centre of the ruins when the tremor hits. Your first warning is a faint drumming beneath your feet and the clink of rocks, dislodged and skittering down the hills of rubble.
Then there is an explosion of sound. A deafening thunder as everything begins to shake violently, throwing you from side to side. You hear walls toppling, the crack and splinter of the earth – in the distance, an entire row of towers simply disappears, dropping away from the horizon, leaving only thin whispers of dust to mark their passing.
You lurch across an open plaza, aware of fissures forming beneath your feet, branching and then widening, leaking a sulphurous smoke. Dodging a shower of falling rock, you find yourself taking cover inside the pillared colonnade of a vast hall. Symbols have been carved into the exterior stonework – nine orbs, arranged within a complex weave of crisscrossing lines. An open archway leads inside.
Arran.
A woman’s voice, beckoning.
Your instincts tell you to turn and flee, but the urge to enter becomes overpowering, like an invisible thread reeling you in. Unable to resist, you find yourself entering the hall. Turn to 49.
654
‘We know little,’ grunts the Skard. ‘The tales speak of a Mordland princess, a sorceress who was married to a cruel king. He did not love her. They say he tortured her, made an example of her to his men. It was his unkindness that set her on the dark path. She went mad with a desire for revenge – murdered her king and fled north on a whaler’s schooner. It sank during a storm. All on board were killed – save for the witch. The only one to survive.
‘Now, she dwells in the ancient Titan city beyond the North Face. I have been there, only once. We believed ourselves stronger than her. I chose the best men. Ten of the strongest warriors from every tribe stood at my side. But every one fell to the witch – her gaze can turn flesh to ice. Only Fimbulwinter, a shield from the great hoard of Vindsvall, could protect me from her wrath. I was close . . . so close to ending her life. A hair’s breadth from plunging my sword into her breast. Then the shield was taken from me, ripped from my grasp by one of her minions; a demon. His claws shredded the shield like it was paper. I tried to get it back – we struggled and fought on the very edge of the Well, a gateway to the shroud. The demon fell in and took the shield fragments with him. I had no choice but to flee. Without the shield, I could not look upon the witch.’
Skoll is silent for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fist.
‘I still hear her voice, the screams . . . I do not think there is anything left of the woman that is human. The demons have taken her over, and together they work as one: to free Jormungdar and destroy our realm.’
Return to 602 to ask another question or turn to 326 to end the conversation.
655
You catch up with the thieves in the dark alleyway. They have the monk surrounded, backing him up against one of the walls. The leader, a tall lean man with a hooked nose and tattoos snaking around his arms, brandishes a pair of daggers.
‘Leave him,’ you bellow, striding forward whilst drawing your own weapons. Their magic rages to life, flooding the alleyway with their stark brilliance. The thieves draw back, momentarily blinded. The monk has started to sob, sliding down the wall into the mud and filth.
‘What’s it gotta do with you?’ sneers the leader, squinting to get a better look at you. He starts forward, nodding quickly to his three companions. They are young, but have a confident, reckless air about them – evidently believing strength in numbers will give them the advantage. You decide to prove them wrong. It’s time to fight:
Speed Brawn Armour Health
Sabin 7 4 2 40
Ruffian 6 4 2 20
Ruffian 6 3 2 20
Ruffian 6 3 2 20
Special abilities
Knives in the dark: For every you roll for your hero’s attack speed (before or after a reroll), you must automatically take 2 damage, ignoring armour.
Outnumbered: At the end of each combat round, you must take 1 damage from each surviving opponent, ignoring armour. This ability only applies while you are faced with multiple opponents.
If you manage to defeat these rash hoodlums, turn to 678. If you are defeated, record the defeat on your hero sheet, then turn to 69.
656
The shaven-headed Skard kneels beside you, the stench of his unwashed body filling your nostrils. As he leans close you see he is missing an ear, the white lines of scar-tissue cutting a ragged line to his upper lip. He puts a hand to your chin, pushing it back – then raises his axe.
‘Berg vegger!’ His eyes widen in surprise. ‘Vegger!’ You feel him tug something from your chest – the silver hound pin that Everard gave you. Boots crunch across the gravel as the other hunter takes it, turning it in his hand. He steps closer to you, his huge frame filling the sky.
‘How you get this?’ He kicks you in the side, then holds the pin out between his fingers.
It takes several moments for you to realise you understood him – his words are thick and guttural, but they are in the common tongue. A sudden hope rises within you – a chance at last to tell your story. The events of the past few hours spill out in a fervent ramble.
He looks at you incredulously as you describe the attack on the keep, the earthquake and Everard giving you the token. You don’t know how much the Skards can understand, but you repeat everything a second time, looking from one to the other.
When you have finished there is a heavy silence, broken only by the sighing of the wind. The shaven-headed Skard gives a growl, then raises his axe again. ‘Drap han han,’ he barks, in his rough, harsh language.
‘Nen!’ The other hunter raises his hand, halting the fall of the axe. You quickly assume he is the leader – perhaps the necklace of bones he wears is some symbol of authority. He kneels beside you, scowling as he looks over your body and its many wounds. ‘Dead meat,’ he says, prodding his fingers into your grey-white flesh. ‘You of the witch?’ His gaze returns to the silver pin. He waits for your answer.
‘I don’t know what you mean. I come from the keep – I was the only one to survive.’
The leader clenches his jaw, working the muscles in his ch
eeks. ‘Everard a good man,’ he nods at last. ‘We come for help. To the keep.’ He points to his two companions, the giant and the short weasel-faced Skard. ‘Our tribe weak. We feel badness of place. Wrongness. You understand this?’
You nod, even though your mind is still racing. ‘There is nothing left,’ you explain again, wincing as you try and rise. ‘The keep has gone.’
‘Nisse.’
It is the first time the giant has spoken. He stands a head taller than the leader, his mane of hair hanging in greasy ropes across his broad face. Every inch of him – indeed, every inch of all three of the hunters – appears weathered and scarred. He kicks the body of the creature lying on the ground next to him. ‘Nisse.’
You gather it is their word for these scaled beasts. ‘They attacked the keep,’ you nod quickly. ‘Did they . . . did they cause all this – the earthquakes?’ Your eyes flick to the leader, hoping that your words are understood.
You are surprised when he shakes his head. He shifts, pointing behind him. ‘The north witch. White witch. Makes earth . . .’ He struggles to find a word you will grasp. His eyes catch on one of your open wounds, muscle and bone protruding from the cavity. ‘Bad. Rot.’
You flinch uncomfortably. ‘Perhaps there is a cure,’ you add grimly.
The Skard strokes his necklace for a moment, studying you with a deep interest. ‘We bear clan. You understand? Bear.’ He pats his chest. ‘Taulu.’ His gaze shifts to his two companions. ‘Hale. Ninvuk.’ He nods to the giant and then the shaven-headed Skard.
‘Arran,’ you put a hand to your chest, mimicking his own gesture. ‘My name is Arran.’
He leans forward, pinning the silver token back onto your jerkin. ‘We get help. Keep gone. We go west. Find seals, seal clan. Put together, yes?’ He clasps his hands in some show of unity. ‘We move. You follow. Walk or die.’ His eyes fix on your own. ‘Everard’s hound. Yes?’
He stands without waiting for an answer, arching his back to crack the bones. Then he turns and heads down the slope, retrieving his javelin from the downed Nisse. His two companions fall into step behind him, not sparing you another glance.
The Eye of Winter's Fury Page 56