Then the rumbling subsides – only to be replaced by the bellowing roar of some nightmarish creature. You pull yourself up onto the shelf of rock, where Skoll and Anise are standing back-to-back, their heads turned to follow the course of the swirling snow-storm. It ripples around the foot of the island then bursts skywards in a brilliant-white geyser, picking up boulders and ice from the ground. For a second the cloud hangs still in the air, then it sweeps down with a furious boom, moulding itself into a pair of colossal fists. It is time to fight:
Speed Magic Armour Health
Avalanche 9 5 6 40 (*)
Ice elemental (*) 8 4 4 25
Rock elemental (*) 8 4 5 20
Rock elemental (*) 8 4 5 20
Special abilities
Break down: When Avalanche is defeated (reduced to zero health), its body splits into three elementals (an ice elemental and two rock elementals). You then have three rounds of combat against these elementals. At the beginning of the fourth round, they re-join to form a new Avalanche (with 40 health). You must defeat Avalanche again, before it will release the elementals (with the health they have remaining) – giving you three rounds to fight them before another Avalanche is formed. This cycle repeats until you have defeated all three elementals.
Enchanted elements: Avalanche and the three elementals are immune to all passive abilities, including the passive damage from frost hound and vital artery.
Skards’ might: Skoll and Anise add 2 to your damage score for the duration of this combat. (If you are an einherjar, you can add 3 to your damage score instead.)
(Note: When fighting Avalanche, the elementals cannot be harmed. You can only attack and apply damage to the elementals once Avalanche has been defeated each time.)
If you manage to defeat this dread behemoth, turn to 757.
704
You pick apart the folded moth wing and hold it up to the light. As the beams dance across its silken surface, you notice glittering patterns start to form. They intensify, glowing brighter, the silhouette created by their radiance casting a long shadow on the ground. To your surprise, you realise it is a magical glyph.
You hear the snapping of wood behind you. Turning, you watch as another hollow widens outwards in the side of the trunk, revealing a shimmering bridge of rainbow light. It stretches away into the cloudy fog, its shining radiance pushing back the haze to reveal a floating island.
Will you:
Cross the bridge to the island? 589
Decide to leave the chamber and continue onwards? 509
705
Anise steps around you, shaking her head. ‘When you boys have done posturing, we still have a problem. A very big problem.’
You follow her gaze to the dragon.
Skoll retrieves his axes, then strides towards the dragon. ‘Old one. We have need of your aid.’
The beast continues to lick at its wounds. Droplets of smoking blood spatter onto the ground.
You glance at Anise. ‘This was a mistake,’ you hiss through clenched teeth.
Scales creak as the dragon’s neck swings toward the warrior. Then its presence fills your mind. A sentience both powerful and ancient.
Blood of the brood. Of Titan and stone. Know I am Nidhogg.
The dragon’s words are like echoes, ringing back from some deep, fathomless dark.
Skoll halts before the giant beast, then drops to one knee. ‘Great Nidhogg. I am Skoll, Son of Brunil Frostgrieve, Drokke of the Skards.’
You smell of fear. Brave or foolish. I do not know which. The dragon tilts its head, regarding the three of you with its crimson orbs.
‘We did what we had to,’ you reply quickly, gesturing to Skoll and Anise. ‘All of us – we know what it is to suffer at the hands of the witch.’
Anise nods vehemently. ‘We have to put an end to this evil!’
Melusine. The dragon’s eyes narrow. My brothers and sisters. All fallen to her power. They were not so strong. Unable to resist.
The beast’s attention has moved to the horn that Skoll is holding, wrested from the giant’s helm. You realise the hollowed bone was once a dragon’s – the same as those that still adorn Nidhogg’s crest.
They were weak. They were not given a choice. Their fate was to fall.
Nidhogg gives a slow shake of his head. Then his eyes drift skywards.
All save one. He went to her willingly. Betrayed us all. Anger rattles from somewhere deep within the dragon’s being. Seethe will feel my wrath.
‘Yes, yes!’ Skoll takes a hopeful step closer. ‘Dragons. Mortals. No more will suffer – if you will only help us.’
The dragon’s neck curls round, his gaze flicking back to the horn. Let that be my call. A single note will carry to my ears. Then revenge will be taken.
Nidhogg unfurls his great black wings.
‘For revenge.’ Skoll raises the horn.
The dragon springs forward, wings beating to give it lift. Skoll drops to his knees as the gigantic beast sweeps overhead, its shadow turning day to night.
Skoll shifts round, meeting your gaze with a look of relief and excitement. ‘Put doubts aside,’ he calls. ‘The dragon lends us his strength. Now we will be unstoppable!’
Congratulations! You have gained the dragon’s horn. This gives you the power to summon Nidhogg. (Simply make a note of this item on your hero sheet, it doesn’t take up backpack space.) The dragon has the following attributes (record these on the second part of your hero sheet. You will be told when to use them.):
Speed Stability Toughness
Nidhogg 9 8 12
Once your hero sheet is updated, return to the map to continue your adventure.
706
Melusine is agile, using her dancer’s grace to weave around your attacks, the two of you falling into a deadly performance of blows and counters.
All around you the chamber has started to shake, the ground bucking beneath you, stones showering down from above – yet you remain oblivious to the destruction, focused solely on Melusine, trapped in an instant where thought has become instinct. You almost move as one, gliding through stances – chasse, heel-turn, closed change – spinning and turning, back and forth. A dance at the end of time.
Melusine hums, her music filling your ears. It reminds you of a lullaby Molly often sang to you to calm you after a bad dream. Back and forth. Sidestep. Spin. Turn. Its sonorous notes weave a powerful charm, locking you into a cycle of repeated steps. You start to forget your purpose . . . lost in the dance.
But something flutters against your consciousness. A memory. A face.
The crooked smile of a kitchen girl, who stole your heart.
Movements falter as you struggle to remember. A foot slips, streaking blood across the dark stone. Blood that trails to a girl’s body.
Dance, Arran. Dance for me. My last great performance – oh, hear them applaud.
‘No!’ In an instant you snap out of the dreamlike trance.
Your weapons break rhythm, the cold steel whipping round in a swift arc. The blow passes through Melusine and continues through its stroke. You finish kneeling, the witch’s head falling one way and her body the other. Shreds of her veil flutter down around you. The final curtain.
If you are a warrior, turn to 389. If you are a mage, turn to 744. If you are a rogue, turn to 504.
707
If you wish, you may purchase a locker for 5 gold crowns. You may store any extra backpack items or items of equipment in the locker during Act 1. If you swap equipment (weapons, backpack items etc.) during your adventure, you may put the item you are replacing in your locker by turning to this entry number. This will prevent it from being destroyed. You can only keep a maximum of four objects in your locker:
You can re-equip items from your locker whenever you visit this entry number between quests in Act 1.
If you wish to conduct further trade with Jackson, turn to 685. Otherwise, return to the quest map to continue your adventure.
708
You
take a blast to the stomach. The next thing you know, you are falling backwards – the cold ice rushing up to meet you with a thwack! The landing is painful, but not as painful as watching your sled pull away with the other racer in tow.
Without a sled you have been disqualified from the race. Replace the keyword veteran with underdog. Return to the map to continue your adventure.
709
‘Watered-down ale and cockroach stew. Tastes as bad as it sounds, I’m afraid.’ The barman nods to one of his servants as they walk past, their tray laden with steaming bowls of gruel. ‘Funny really, all the best meat goes to the dogs. Keeps ’em strong and healthy for the races – you should see what those mutts can get through.’ He shakes his head with a bemused frown. ‘Out here, we learn to make the best of it. Trust me, by the end of winter we’ll be serving up old boots for supper.’
If you have the keyword Bowfinch on your hero sheet, turn to 173. Otherwise, return to 420.
710
You suspect that the bars of the cell will open if someone places their hand over the print, but you do not wish to suffer more pain by doing so – your hand is already swollen, your body feeling weaker from the toxins that are now surging through it.
If you have clackers in your backpack, turn to 663. Otherwise, you have no means of interacting with this magic. You can either attempt to chop through the cell door (turn to 439) or leave and continue your journey (turn to 6).
711
By some miracle you are able to guide your transport through the sizzling barrage of magic, taking only minor damage (You must lower your transport’s stability by 1.) Before the towers are able to discharge another assault you ramp up the speed, putting as much distance as you can between yourself and the towers’ limited range. Turn to 492.
712
Hale is the first to fall. The giant warrior throws himself repeatedly against the might of the shadow fiend, trying to close inside the whirling tentacles and set to work with axe and knife. But the fangs are too quick. He is left stumbling back against a pillar, with two of the shadowy teeth broken and stuck fast in his chest. Their darkness spreads out from the wounds, eating him alive, his pain-racked curses cut short as his clothing and armour drop to the ground, empty.
Ninvuk falls victim to the wolf, dodging one clawed paw only to be hit by another. His body is shredded in two, leaving a crimson mist where he had once been standing.
It quickly becomes apparent that the hunters’ weapons are no match for these magical adversaries, their blades and spears leaving no noticeable wounds. Only your own weapons, glowing with a green magic, seem to draw pain from these creatures, sending glittering blood spraying through the mist.
You dismember the shadow, leaving its tentacles roiling uselessly on the ground, then drive your weapons and magic into its black body, exploding it into shreds of darkness. Only Fenrir is left, snarling as the beast swipes its paws at Taulu, who is trying to fend it off with his javelin. He is forced to retreat, stumbling over the body of a fallen Skard in his haste. He drops onto his back, his javelin-point raised in the hope of spearing his over-eager opponent. The wolf sees the danger, twisting at the last moment, its teeth locking around the javelin and tearing it from the Skard’s grip. You hurry to Taulu’s aid, seeing that he is now defenceless against the wolf’s teeth and claws . . .
All of a sudden something rushes into view, bounding over the rubble and corpses. It moves impossibly fast, a huge ball of muscle and fur, slamming into the wolf and sending it rolling onto its side. The wolf finds its feet quickly, skidding through the dirt, teeth snapping. Its howl is met by a thunderous roar.
‘Nanuk!’
The bear rears up on his hind limbs, magic sparking around the translucent ghostly image. Then the two beasts charge at each other, biting and clawing, their bodies like gigantic constellations against the darkening skies. Taulu watches in bewildered fascination, a half-smile playing about his lips.
The two warring animals roll through the dirt, locked to each other in a deadly embrace. You see the danger before they do – the edge of the outcropping looming ever nearer. Nanuk tries to break free, its paws batting the wolf away, but Fenrir has its jaws locked around a hind-leg. Together they go tumbling over into nothingness.
‘Nanuk!’ You race for the edge, but when you look over there is nothing to see save for the green mist, swirling thickly around the jagged rocks below.
You reach out in your mind, feeling for the bear. He is distant, just a flicker of life at the brink of your awareness.
‘Saviour.’
You turn to see Taulu staggering towards you, his clawed birth-mark glowing in the green-tinged light. Its bright radiance is reflected in his triumphant gaze. ‘You have ancestors with you. Spirits.’
You frown, confused. ‘You mean the bear – Nanuk?’
‘He hunt with you. I see behind eyes. Bear. Strength.’ He reaches around to the back of his neck, his hands settling on the tie of his necklace. You realise that the bones hanging there must be the claws and teeth of a bear. ‘You lead now. I follow. We go to hall. You free.’
He never finishes the sentence. A green blade punches out of the front of his chest. His eyes look down in shock, blood suddenly blossoming through the leather of his tunic. He gives a rasping sigh as the blade is withdrawn, then he drops to the ground, his necklace of bones rattling by his side.
A ghostly apparition hovers above Taulu’s body, a wand-like weapon grasped in long spidery fingers. The body is slim and curved, like a woman’s, but the face glaring at you is a monstrous mask, as if some bulbous parasite has taken over. From the pulpy flesh, hooked barbs form a mockery of a crown, their tips ending in glittering fronds that hang down the ghost’s back like a wedding veil.
I have waited for you. The words are like fingernails, scratching across the surface of your mind. My corpse prince. Blood of Leonidas.
‘You know me?’ Your hands tighten around your weapons. Nanuk nudges you with his presence, still weak – but the knowledge he is alive fills you with a sudden courage.
I know a good many things. The woman’s gown ripples around her narrow frame, its lace edging and woven pearls hinting at a dress that was once regal and lavish, but is now mottled with age, its edges tattered. I know your heart, fledgling. I feel its emptiness, its cold.
‘You’re the witch,’ you venture, taking a tentative step backwards. ‘The Skards spoke of you.’
The ghost flickers and starts to fade. I wait for you in the north, fledgling. Come, I have much to show you, much for you to learn . . .
The ghost reaches out a thin, pale hand, the fingers grasping for you – then the ragged body draws back into the mist, fading quickly out of sight. A few moments later the fog starts to dissipate, bringing the corpse-strewn battlefield back into view.
Searching the ruins, you find one of the following items:
Twilight’s end Rime raiment Kaiptaq
(main hand: sword) (chest) (talisman)
+1 speed +2 brawn +1 speed +1 armour +5 health
Ability: piercing Ability: frost guard Ability: sixth sense
You also find two muttok pelts (simply make a note of these on your hero sheet, they do not take up backpack space) and a roll of greased animal hide. On one side are the words ‘White Wolf Trading Company’ and a stamp of a wolf’s head. You open out the hide, flipping it over to reveal a basic map scrawled in a variety of coloured inks. The map-maker has used symbols rather than labels to mark locations, but the map may prove useful in helping you to navigate these wilds.
As you prepare to leave, your thoughts drift back to Taulu. The bone necklace still lies in the dirt, only inches from his bloodied fingers. He was offering you the trinket, before the witch ended his life. Perhaps it has some meaning, some greater significance than the grisly teeth and claws threaded onto the sinew. You reach down and take the necklace, feeling a power thrum from each of its bones. Nanuk’s spirit suddenly grows stronger, filling you once again with his vital
strength.
You place the necklace around your neck and tie it in place. Then you fix your eyes northwards, at the cold expanse of ice and rock. (Return to the map to continue your adventure.)
713
Momentarily blinded, you are aware of falling. Your hands reach out to slow your descent, fingers brushing against something fine – like silk. You find yourself bouncing and flipping, your body rolling over a series of soft flexible cords, perhaps a net.
Your vision starts to return. Bright shapes arch past, patterned like spiders’ webs. You continue to fall, slipping between the criss-crossing bands, bouncing off others strong as rope – twisting and spinning.
Your dizzying descent makes it difficult to discern your surroundings. There is blackness, flashes of light, distant stars. From somewhere below comes a grinding clatter; some sort of machinery. You reach out again, hands snapping around one of the cords. It feels cold to the touch, burning like ice. Gritting your teeth, you try and ignore the pain, swinging your feet to catch another thread for balance.
You hang in the web, rocking sickeningly back-and-forth, your head turning in every direction to try and absorb what your eyes are telling you.
This is a web. A giant web of sparkling flex, extending all around you. The size is incomprehensible – there seems no end to it, the strands reaching out into the void of twinkling stars.
The sound of the machinery continues to beat beneath you. Looking down, you notice a confusion of wheels spinning in a fast-moving blur, whilst all around them pointed spindles extend like the minarets of a castle, catching the threads of silvery flax and winding them into glowing reels.
There is no ground to speak of – between the spokes of the wheels you see only more glittering weave, dropping away to a vertiginous darkness.
You hang like a fly, trapped in a web.
The cord you are holding starts to shake, as if disturbed by a weight. You notice other nearby threads vibrating, leaving an after-image of light shimmering against the darkness. With difficulty, you push yourself onto an adjoining section of the weave, turning your head to study the surrounding area. It is then that you see the woman clambering across the web, her legs bowed to the side like a spider, two long grey-skinned toes clutching the narrow threads with ease.
The Eye of Winter's Fury Page 61