The Heart of Fire
Page 8
Write the word sure blade on your hero sheet. With your curiosity sated, you turn back to the busy taproom. Turn to 47.
64
As you approach the taproom, there is a commotion from inside. Suddenly two bodies come flying out of the open doors, tumbling and rolling through the mud. A large woman, wearing a dirt-stained apron, appears at the doorway, a skillet held menacingly in one hand.
‘And that’s the last time I’ll tell you soaks,’ she shouts, her chubby face flushed with anger. ‘I’ll have no fighting in my establishment.’ She turns and re-enters the smoke-filled interior. Warily you follow her in, ignoring the drunken curses of the two men as they try and pick themselves up out of the dirt.
The common room of the inn is long and narrow, and full to bursting point. The noise is almost deafening – a discordant blend of laughter, shouting and bawdy singing. Between the crowded tables you spy a number of serving girls running back and forth, carrying platters of steaming food and clay mugs filled with ale.
Behind the bar, a giant of a man is rolling fresh barrels out of the cellar. Even stooped over, he is at least seven feet tall, his chest as wide as the barrels he is handling. The woman with the skillet pushes past him and disappears into a smoky kitchen, where the succulent aroma of meat and spices waft out into the common room – a welcome respite from the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies.
Will you:
Approach the bar? — 248
Take a wander around the common room? — 172
Leave the inn? — 199
65
The strange-looking keep is surrounded by a high wall of stone, which looks to have been built more recently than the rest of the building. A wrought-iron gate provides a glimpse of the paved courtyard beyond, where you spy several carriages lined up outside the front steps.
Two guards move quickly to bar your way, crossing their halberds in front of you. Both are wearing white livery, displaying the outline of a black bat.
‘Back off, commoner,’ sneers one of the guards. ‘Invitation only.’
Your eyes travel up the vast spear-head of rock to its wedge-shaped summit. There you can make out a crown of towers, stabbing even further into the murky clouds. ‘Who lives there?’ you ask. ‘I never saw such a place before.’
‘Prince Lazlo, you fool,’ snaps the other guard. ‘Now, back off – or this becomes a situation. And you really don’t want a situation. Ain’t that right, Bork?’
The other guard nods his head. ‘Yeah, situations are bad. Real bad.’
Looking to avoid a ‘situation’ you bid the guards a hasty farewell. Turn to 77.
66
You back up against the nearest building and prepare to defend yourself. However, as the chaotic horde of undead draw in from all sides, you immediately start to regret your decision. There are too many of them for you to possibly defeat. You must now fight:
Special abilities
Grappling hands: If the zombies win a combat round and roll a for their damage score, then you must lose an item of equipment or a backpack item from your hero sheet. This item is immediately destroyed.
If you manage to survive to the end of the fifth combat round, turn to 203.
67
The troll is a formidable opponent, but its attacks are slow and clumsy. Your weapons quickly cut it down to size, reducing its body to shreds of shadow. As they curl away on the smoky air, the voice whispers in your ear once more: ‘The dwarves taught us the runes. They gave us strength. Power. And so we conquered. Made these lands our own.’
The shadows start to wind and coil together, forming another shape. This one is human-sized, the outline hinting at heavy-plate armour. In one hand a warhammer materialises into being; in the other, shadows spread outward to fashion a shield.
‘Then the eastlings came. Men with steel in their hearts; weapons of light and flame, and a false god to master us. But we Wiccans have no masters . . .’
The knight charges towards you, the warhammer crackling with dark magic:
If you manage to defeat your shadowy foe, turn to 86.
68
‘You really are wet behind the ears, aren’t you?’ The man shakes his head with a sigh. ‘I suggest you wise up quickly to what’s going on. The Wiccans have got themselves a new leader – some powerful dark warrior, who they say becomes a demon in battle. The inquisition had him under lock and key, but I hear he broke out. The Wiccans trashed the place.’
‘Durnhollow?’ you add quickly, your interest piqued.
‘Yeah,’ nods the map-seller. ‘Hmm, you’re not so ignorant after all, eh?’
‘But what do they want, the Wiccans?’
The man rolls his eyes. ‘See, I spoke too soon. Look, the Wiccans used to be all over these moors, this land was theirs, but then the king’s army came. Naturally, the inquisitors didn’t like what they saw; the Wiccans follow the old ways, see – the old magics. So the church tried to civilise them.’ He snorts with derision. ‘Like them wild lunatics could ever be civilised, cavorting with demons and drinking blood! I ask you! So most of ’em went south, but for some reason, they’ve come back – and they’ve come back fighting.’
Will you:
Ask about the prince? — 101
Ask for more news? — 137
69
Benin clasps your hand, shaking it firmly. ‘Thank you once again, my friend. You have done a great service to the church. Here, I have something for you.’ The priest removes a leather bag from his belt and hands it to you, grinning. ‘I made these myself. Thought they might help you on your future expeditions.’
You open up the bag to find that it is lined with small pockets. Each one contains a clay potion bottle. You have gained the following items:
Pot of healing
Flask of healing
Pot of magic
(1 use)
(1 use)
(1 use)
(backpack)
(backpack)
(backpack)
Use any time in combat to restore 4 health
Use any time in combat to restore 6 health
Use any time in combat to raise your magic by 2 for one combat round
When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to 78.
70
‘I gotta friend, out of town, who works the charms. They’re genuine magic, I swears on me good ’ealth. But no one ’ere gonna buy ’em unless they think it’s holy – unless they think they belonged to some great saint.’ The trader scratches behind an ear with a grimy finger. ‘Look, yer don’t needs to do any fightin’. The moors are full of tombs and caves, and places where you find . . . well, dead stuff. Like bones.’ He rattles one of the charms around his neck, which displays an unsettling array of teeth. ‘So, youse bring me dem bones and I give yer me own kinda blessing – good honest gold. Deal?’
The trader offers out his grubby-looking hand. You shake it gingerly, agreeing to provide him with whatever you can find. (Write the word bones on your hero sheet.) You may now view the charm-maker’s wares (turn to 59) or continue exploring lower town (turn to 36).
71
You leap over the rail of the ship, your attention focused solely on the cannon team. In alarm, you see that they are now turning the cannon to fire across the deck, heedless of whether they will hit friend or foe. Quickly, you charge towards them, dodging the pockets of battle that are already raging across the deck.
As you near, a larger goblin intercepts you, dressed from head-to-toe in rusted chain mail. He swings a club into your side, sending you reeling back against the mast pole. Behind the goblin, you see the gunner pushing an iron ball into the muzzle of the cannon while his spindly companion struggles to light the fuse using a tinder box.
You stumble to your feet, desperate to stop the cannon from firing – but once again, the armoured goblin is blocking your way, patting its mighty club with an ugly grin. You will have to defeat this brutish foe to have any chance of striking against the cannon team. It is time to
fight:
Special abilities
Blast off: The cannon team will fire their cannon at the start of the sixth combat round. (See below.)
Cowardly: If the first mate is defeated first, then the cannon team will automatically jump ship, winning you the combat.
If you win a combat round against the first mate, you can choose to apply your damage to the first mate or the cannon team. If the cannon team are not defeated by the start of the sixth combat round, then they will fire the cannon, wiping out everyone on board the ship! This means you automatically lose the combat.
If you defeat the dastardly goblins, turn to 205.
72
‘They see things. The future,’ says Murlic. ‘But we not have Sanchen for long time. We stumble blind and in the dark. We hope that . . .’ He stops to regard Conall darkly. ‘We hope you tell us what to do.’
You take a step back in astonishment. ‘I am no leader! I thought Conall . . . Damaris . . .’
Murlic sniffs with displeasure. ‘They do not see. But you . . .’ He waves a dirt-stained finger in your face. ‘You see things. And you lead us out of dark. Yes?’
Will you:
Learn the pariah career (requirement: rogue)? — 302
Explore the rest of the cave? — 485
73
Quest: Behind the mask
(NOTE: You must have completed the green quest Curse of Crow Rock before you can start this quest.)
You hurry across the open moors, buffeted by wind and snow. How quickly the weather changes in this strange land. Only hours before you had been wandering through a tranquil forest, ringing with birdsong and the chatter of water over rocky stream beds. And then, as you trudged out into the wilder country, the skies had darkened and the snows had come. You considered turning back, to take shelter in the forest, but something – perhaps a wilful stubbornness not to surrender – kept you blundering onwards into the face of the storm.
After what feels like an hour, shivering and shaking from the cold, you spy a ridge of rock, cutting a grey line through the white haze. The sight immediately raises your spirits, promising you shelter to wait out the storm.
As you near, you see that the ridge is dominated by a single rocky bluff, which thrusts up out of the mist like a giant fist. Firelight dances at the base of the rock, flickering within its many pits and hollows. It appears you are not the only one to have come here for shelter.
You cautiously put a hand to your weapon before approaching. A jagged cleft runs down one side of the bluff, forming a natural overhang. Here you see two horses tethered to a finger of rock, shifting nervously in the chill wind. The cleft goes deeper and rises, forming a rocky shelf, where a small fire has been lit. A black-coated man with short grey hair is poking at the contents of a cooking pot. You catch a waft of stew and find your stomach knotting into a growl of hunger.
You step closer. The man looks up startled, his hand reaching towards his pack. There you see a scabbarded sword, its hilt gleaming with jewels. As the firelight shifts across his features you see that he is an elderly gentleman, with a neatly clipped moustache and beard. His appearance speaks of wealth and high class, a cravat and formal shirt visible between the collars of his coat. Mindful that both horses are still saddled, you quickly scan behind him, looking to see if he has company. It seems he is alone.
Will you:
Ask what he is doing here? — 117
Ask if his companion is lost? — 136
Demand that he hands over his sword and gold? — 30
74
Your final blow smashes through the skeleton’s ribcage, sending it stumbling back into the nearest wall. Reaching out, you grab the medallion and yank it free. The moment the medallion is removed, the skeleton ceases its rattling throes and crumbles into a cloud of grave dust.
You may now take any/all of the following items:
Drust’s medallion
Greenstone axe
(necklace)
(left hand: axe)
+1 magic
+1 brawn
Searching the rest of the chamber, you manage to uncover 5 gold crowns but little else of worth. Disappointed with your finds, you decide to leave the tomb. Turn to 215.
75
The performers appear to be a family. The wife is playing a flute, whilst the two sons beat a steady rhythm on their drums. The crowd cheer and gasp as the orator, a thin, balding man dressed in white robes, hops agilely onto one of the tables.
‘Come,’ said Allam, ‘join my side! Swords are no good, to fight this tide.’ He raises a wooden sword above his head, pulling an exaggerated frown. ‘We must cast down our weapons to win this day. We must show our faith, to keep them at bay!’ He tosses the sword aside as the drumbeat gets louder. ‘I call upon your faith. Do you believe? Question all that you perceive?’ He sweeps a hand across the crowd, his eyes sparkling with zealotry. ‘What about you? You?’ His finger stabs at various onlookers, who raise their mugs and call out, goading him on.
The drumming stops abruptly, the soft notes of the flute rising into a sonorous melody.
‘Behold, the light! The One God’s might! It will smite our foes with zeal!’ With a flourish the orator throws up his arms, sending gold dust billowing into the air. Then he falls into a crouch, his expression serious. ‘Our fists are now our hardened steel; our bodies the—’ He throws a punch, losing his balance as his foot slips on a patch of ale. With a squeal, he falls backwards off the table, much to the amusement of the crowd. They are all clapping and stamping their feet, although it is clear that the mishap was not part of the show. However the performer skilfully recovers, springing back with a flurry of kicks and punches. ‘Behold, my fists of light. With these fair hands, I will bring the light!’ Urged on by the crowd the orator continues to battle his unseen enemy, assuming various exaggerated poses to much cheering and applause.
The show continues, but your attention has already wandered back to the taproom. Turn to 47.
76
‘An unfortunate mistake on my part,’ says the witchfinder, his hungry eyes flicking to your wound. You step away warily. ‘I’m sorry,’ he smiles weakly, putting a hand to his mouth. ‘I haven’t . . . I haven’t taken blood. You don’t have to worry.’
You frown, your grip still tight around your weapons. ‘Isn’t that what your kind needs – craves? It’s what keeps you alive.’
The witchfinder leans forward, his pale eyes glimmering like stars in the lantern light. ‘I am dying. Can’t you see that? I have very little strength – my sight is . . .’ He clenches his fists, looking away; greasy strands of hair fall across his face. ‘I cannot tell you what it is like; the hunger is . . . indescribable. But I will not . . . become a monster.’
Turn to 347 to ask Eldias another question. When you are ready to continue, turn to 340.
77
Reaching the summit, you find yourself on a windswept plaza. Various stately-looking buildings crowd in on a wide paved square, dominated by a tall statue of a man. A group of pilgrims are kneeling before the statue, offering prayer. Two guards stand either side of it, watching the pilgrims warily.
To the left of the square, rising high above the buildings, is a church – a sprawling arrangement of golden domes and white towers, glowing with holy scripture. Such a building alone would be the talking point of most towns and cities, but your attention is already being drawn across the square, to the dark castle that juts out of the murky gloom. It is clearly dwarven, with sharp angles and points, making it look more like a vast stone arrowhead than a place of habitation.
Next to it, a narrow bridge leads out across a vertiginous drop to an outcropping of rock. There a single tower stands in eerie isolation, its cracked stonework patched with moss and ivy.
As you ponder your next move, you spot a man weaving between the crowds. An open satchel hangs at his side, filled with rolls of parchment. ‘Keep to the path of the righteous!’ he calls. ‘Let Mendo’s maps lead you to the light!’
Examine the statue? — 84
Explore the church? — 111
Investigate the castle? — 65
Cross the bridge to the tower? — 139
Talk to the map-seller? — 99
Leave Carvel? — Turn to the Act 1 map
78
You are about to leave when Benin takes your arm, leading you into a secluded corner of the nave. ‘I spoke to the bishop,’ he says, dropping his voice to a whisper. ‘I found out what happened.’
You nod, urging him to say more.
‘It was a dwarf,’ he grimaces with evident distaste. ‘I thought such vermin were wiped out long ago – by their pagan magics and constant warring.’
‘Perhaps the bishop was mistaken,’ you venture.
Benin frowns. ‘I know the bishop. He is an honest man.’
‘So, the dwarf was the one who cursed him? The one who made the charm?’
Benin nods. ‘Both the bishop and your Wiccan thief were struck down with the curse. The dwarf escaped unharmed – and took the relic with it.’
‘Seems a lot of fuss over some old artefact. What does it do?’
‘I don’t know.’ Benin glances warily over his shoulder. ‘It was discovered by a group of inquisitors, in some ruins to the south. They said the place was haunted – corrupted by old magic. The relic was brought here, to the church, so that our scholars might learn more about it, keep it safe.’ He drops his gaze. ‘Now it is lost to us.’