The Heart of Fire

by Michael J. Ward

  ‘What’s happening?’ You glance back at the dais, wondering if this is some trick or spell of the demon’s doing. He merely watches with a mocking smile.

  Another cry from your companions. The thorns have started to rise up into the air, clumps of wet earth falling away from their writhing forms. In horror, you watch as the trees start to mould themselves into a single creature, a mockery of a human, with trunk-like legs and long, trailing arms. Within seconds the land to either side of you is reduced to a barren, featureless marsh – the trees having drawn themselves up into the dark skies to become a barbed colossus.

  ‘Free me,’ hisses the demon, shaking the manacles snapped tight around its wrists. ‘You cannot defeat it. Orgorath is an ancient spirit, in thrall to the dwarves who made me their prisoner. You need me to defeat it!’

  The forest monster throws back its head and lets loose a bloodcurdling scream. Then it lumbers forward, its vine-like arms twisting into gigantic fists.

  If you have the word Wiccan on your hero sheet, turn to 268. Otherwise, turn to 237.

  197

  Benin folds his arms, casting a critical eye over your trappings. ‘I sense a powerful magic about you, but it is not focused, it lacks discipline. That will leave you open to . . . bad influences.’ He pauses, his face twisted with indecision. ‘Hmm, I suppose I could correct that failing – show you how to unlock your inner kha. Yes . . . perhaps then, you could truly serve the One God.’

  Will you:

  Agree to become an acolyte (requirement: mage)? — 487

  Decline and return to the courtyard? — 260

  198

  You match your enemy’s speed, expertly dodging the bug’s attacks and responding with your own. For the onlookers, the battle must be a frenzied blur – but for you, it is a dance, your heightened awareness alerting you to each of the creature’s attacks a moment before they happen.

  At last you sever the ant’s head, sending it spinning away in a spray of slimy ichor. The rest of the body shakes and convulses, then topples over, leaving its spindly legs to twitch feebly in the air. You may now take one of the following items:

  Assassin’s veil

  Green blaze

  Mighty claw

  (head)

  (chest)

  (main hand: fist weapon)

  +1 magic

  +1 speed +1 armour

  +1 speed +1 brawn

  Ability: vanish

  Ability: haste

  Ability: sideswipe

  ‘How’d you do that?’ asks Surl, his eyes wide with amazement. ‘I’ve not seen anyone move like that.’

  You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to respond. Since your body was introduced to the Elysium in the inquisitors’ dungeons, your powers appear to have taken on a new form; your gift of prophecy becoming something more immediate and instinctive.

  ‘I don’t care what tricks you got hiding up yer sleeves,’ growls the captain. ‘We work as a team. And this team is moving. Now!’

  Out of the original party, only yourself, Surl and Vas remain. Thankfully, you reach the other side of the cave with no further encounters. In the facing wall, a jagged hole leads through into another rough-hewn tunnel. Turn to 164.

  199

  The Pilgrim’s Road continues through the fenlands, taking you through dense thickets of mould-covered trees and over rickety bridges, to finally bring you to a clump of tumbledown buildings. They seem squat and ugly things, perched crookedly at the edges of the dirt track, their sloping roofs dripping with curtains of weed and fungus. If it wasn’t for the bustling signs of life – solemn-clothed travellers for the most part – you would assume this place was a forgotten ghost town, left to rot away amidst the murk and gloom.

  To your left is the only building of note in this ramshackle settlement, a coaching inn, which has evidently been extended over time to become a sprawling jumble of outbuildings and stables. The inn appears to be full to bursting point, and from the open doors of the main taproom you can hear an endless crescendo of boisterous laughter and song.

  Across to your right, two armed men stand on sullen guard outside an equipment store. The sign above the door reads Edgar’s Essentials – with a pair of deer antlers hanging lopsidedly over the faded lettering.

  Further along the street, a farrier is shoeing a grey warhorse, while its rider – a tall man dressed in polished silver armour – holds onto the beast’s reins to keep it steady. The knight catches your eye and nods his head in greeting.

  Will you:

  Enter the taproom of the coaching inn? — 64

  Talk to the knight and the farrier? — 177

  Investigate ‘Edgar’s Essentials’? — 352

  Leave and continue your journey? — Return to the map

  200

  A dark body is flung out of the ruptured hole, soaring high overhead with a hollering cry. You glimpse a tattered cloak and black clothing then it is gone, turning and twisting through the thick clouds of snow. The old man is on his feet in seconds, snatching a brand from the fire and hurrying out of the shelter. You follow, picking your way past the fallen boulders that now pockmark the snow-covered ground.

  A few metres from the bluff, a gnarled rowan tree grows from the side of a rocky hummock. A man is now dangling from its branches like a yuletide decoration, his long cloak snagged on the thorny limbs.

  ‘My lord!’ The old man raises his brand, its flames guttering in the wind. ‘What happened, sir?’

  There is a loud rip, then suddenly the black figure is dropping, tumbling and bumping his way through the lower branches to finally land in a heap in the snow. He grunts, rubbing his side.

  ‘Extreme sports?’ you enquire once again.

  The man in black looks up. You see that he is wearing a mask over half of his face, the nose piece giving him the appearance of a bird. He smoothes back his wet blond hair with a gloved hand.

  ‘That could have gone better,’ he grimaces. ‘Jeeves, I do believe we have a problem.’ He looks up at the old man, holding out an arm for assistance. He groans as he finds his feet, the tattered cloak parting to reveal the hilts of several knives.

  ‘Indeed we do, sir.’ Jeeves clucks his tongue, dusting the grey dirt and bark from the man’s shoulders. ‘This is the fifth costume in as many days. I’ll have to get more cloth—’

  The masked man waves him away. ‘We’ve got bigger problems than my wardrobe, Jeeves.’

  At that moment, the howling wind is joined by a bone-chilling shriek. It is coming from the bluff behind you. Spinning around, you gasp in horror at the monstrous creation that is now perched on the rock. At first, you mistake it for some devilish bird – its immense wings rising like dark sails from its shoulders. But this is no bird. Its body is humanoid, with thick arms and bowed legs. The head forms a sleek crest, fronted by red glowing eyes and a wide maw filled with fanged teeth.

  ‘It’s bigger than I expected,’ states Jeeves, still sounding oddly detached from the situation. ‘Not your usual margoyle is it, sir?’

  The masked man gives an impatient sigh. ‘No, Jeeves, not your usual margoyle.’

  The beast takes to the air with another deafening screech, its giant form moving with a startling speed. Half-blinded by snow, you raise your weapons, ready to defend yourself. Then you see a cascade of glimmering steel flash past your shoulder. Knives. They strike harmlessly against the creature’s stony skin as it sweeps in to attack. The man in black races forward to head it off, his hands moving in a blur as they send more knives flickering towards it. The beast bats them away with its wings, then swings one of its clawed fists in the warrior’s direction. He tries to twist aside, but is struck by the full force of the blow and is sent tumbling backwards into the snow.

  The beast turns to face you, its diamond-sharp fangs gnashing together. Up close, you can see the blood-red veins that crisscross its grey skin, pulsing with a demonic magic. Jeeves has already scurried away, to tend to his companion. You are now alone and must fight: />
  Special abilities

  Stone blood: If the margoyle rolls a or more for its damage score, its fangs latch onto you, sucking your blood. This causes damage as normal, but also raises the margoyle’s armour by 1 (up to a maximum of 6) as the blood flows through its magical veins.

  If you manage to defeat the margoyle, turn to 91.

  201

  Within minutes the earthen mound is littered with bones and chunks of pumpkin. You wipe the fleshy pulp from your blade, before searching what remains of the creature’s body. You may now take any/all of the following items:

  Pumpkin squash (2 uses)

  All hallow’s ring

  (backpack)

  (ring)

  Use any time in combat to

  +1 brawn

  raise your brawn or magic

  by 2 for one combat round

  The witch must have been summoning this grisly guardian to help protect the burial mound. You set about breaking up the ritual area, extinguishing the candles and scuffing the chalk circles with your boot heel. Satisfied with your efforts, you leave the mound and head deeper into the barrows. Turn to 215.

  202

  ‘Stories, eh? I like stories and got a good head for ’em too.’ He furrows his brow, tapping his chin as he thinks. ‘Let’s see – the latest one I got was from a ranger, stopped off here for feed for ’is horse. He said that there been a battle west of here, out on the Witch’s Wold. Two of them inquisitors went at it against a ’ole band of wild men. It didn’t end good. And now the place is haunted – very bad from the sounds of things.’ He taps the wood of the counter with his knuckles. ‘I can ’andle what’s real and solid – that makes sense to me – but when we talkin’ ghosts . . .’ His metal teeth scrape together as they form a scowl. ‘I prefer ’em to just stay in the stories, where they belong.’

  To ask the barman about his teeth turn to 344, to explore the rest of the tap room turn to 172, or to leave turn to 199.

  203

  You are pressed against the building by the endless tide of bodies. With barely enough room to swing your weapons, you realise that you cannot possibly defeat so many enemies. Frantically, you look around for an opening, a means of escape, but the zombies form an impenetrable wall of snarling, snapping death. There is only one route left available to you now – up. Turn to 227.

  204

  The man chuckles as if there is some hidden joke to the question. ‘I’m Bim Mamba. But when I start to mix up the special magic, I get the name Boom.’ He spins the staff around skilfully in his hands. ‘I make the boom skulls and the potions, but this is my favourite.’ He aims the staff at the far wall, sending a bolt of magic crackling through the air. It slams into a wooden shield propped up against the rocks, shattering it to pieces. ‘Boom stick. You like?’

  Will you:

  Ask what he meant by a ‘spirit walk’? — 462

  Ask how he can help? — 257

  205

  Congratulations! Your boarding party has managed to wrest control of the ship. The captain picks up the leader’s pirate hat and turns it around thoughtfully. ‘Nice bit of headwear.’ He tosses it to Surl, who giggles with delight as he places it on his head.

  You take a moment to search the bodies of the cannon team. You may choose up to two of the following rewards:

  Goblin bones

  Rusted chainmail

  Sailor’s sandals

  (backpack)

  (chest)

  (feet)

  These might prove

  valuable to the

  right person

  +1 speed +1 armour

  +1 speed

  Ability: surefooted

  When you have made your decision, turn to 118.

  206

  You hurry through the portal. For a second you experience a lurching, dizzying sensation, like falling, then you find yourself stumbling forwards into a narrow stone passageway. The air is cold and musty, a stark contrast to the blazing heat of the courtyard. Sadly, there is no sign of your companions – you can only assume that the doors they chose must have taken them to different parts of the tower. And as for Anse . . . you hope that the paladin was able to escape from the fiery demon before it was too late.

  Behind you is a smooth wall of black stone. With no other choice but forward, you warily advance along the passageway. As you progress, you become aware of a constant rumbling sound reverberating through the rock. Every so often there is a thunderous clunk, like something suddenly locking into place. Then the rumbling starts again. You wonder if it might be the tower itself, moving and rearranging itself in some strange fashion. It is a thought that brings little comfort.

  After several hundred metres you come to a junction. Ahead, the passage ends in an archway, beyond which you can see a chamber filled with flickering lights. To your left, a smaller side passage leads to a plain wooden door.

  Will you:

  Investigate the room with the lights? — 318

  Try the wooden door? — 4

  207

  You stand over the beast’s lice-ridden corpse, torn between pity and loathing for such an unfortunate beast.

  ‘Give me space,’ says Boom, tapping his staff against the ground. ‘I need to get spirit.’

  You step away from the body as it starts to decompose, quickly forming a foul-smelling yellow dust. From the shaman’s staff there is a bright flash of light, then the dust sweeps up into the air, funnelling towards the staff. The runes glow for a second, then the dust is gone.

  ‘That be good riddance to him,’ grins Boom, his staff now surrounded with a sickly yellow aura. ‘We got his power now.’

  (By defeating Lycanth, the shaman’s staff has gained the infected wound ability. Make a note of this on your hero sheet.)

  If you are a warrior, turn to 232. If you are a mage, turn to 350. If you are a rogue, turn to 507.

  208

  The portal glimmers once again – and out steps your largest foe yet. It reminds you of the metal warrior that you first saw with the child when you entered the tower, but this one is bigger – a hulking monstrosity of iron plates, riveted together to form a cruel mockery of a human. From its metal gauntlets a set of buzz saws suddenly whirr into motion, spinning into a grey blur as the giant advances. You must fight:

  Special abilities:

  Body of iron: Ironclad is immune to bleed, thorns and thorn cage.

  If you have one of the following and wish to use it, turn to the relevant entry number: metal soldier (turn to 456), paper soldier (turn to 448), rock soldier (turn to 252). Otherwise, you must fight this opponent yourself. If you win, restore your health and turn to 228. If you are defeated, turn to 464.

  209

  Joseph stares at the coat open-mouthed. ‘I don’t . . . I don’t know what to say. Can I . . . can I try it on?’ You hold it open, letting him slide his arms into the sleeves. When the coat is finally on, he spins around on the spot, the coat-tails whipping through the air.

  ‘This is amazing! My coat of many scales!’

  You cough into your hand, interrupting his spinning and dancing. ‘I thought your plan was to sell this. We’re splitting the profits, aren’t we?’

  Joseph’s enthusiasm deflates, his arms dropping by his side. ‘I know. I just . . . I never owned anything this special before. Basilisk scales are second only to dragon scales in their worth. Can’t I keep it?’ (Remove the coat of many scales from your hero sheet.)

  Will you:

  Let Joseph keep the coat? — 254

  Insist that he sells it? — 267

  210

  Stepping over the charred corpses of the zombies, you re-enter the reverend’s home through the blasted wall. For a moment you scan the scorched papers and books that litter the ground. It could take hours to search through them all in the hope of finding a stray clue. You are about to leave and explore the rest of the building when your eyes catch on a section of the far wall. It would have been covered up by the writing desk, but that now
lies on its side, revealing a patch of paint that is damp and peeling. A hairline crack runs across it, forming a square.

  Intrigued, you walk over and kneel beside it. Yes – you can feel a breeze coming from between the cracks. It must lead through to a secret passage. Pushing on the square panel, you discover that it is loose. It slides back, revealing a damp, musty-smelling cavity. You duck down and crawl forwards, the rough stone grazing your hands. After several metres, the tight passage makes a right-hand turn, depositing you in a small room. Candles flicker in numerous alcoves set around the walls, the hot wax forming dripping beards over the grey stone.

  The only item of furniture in the room is a metal reading stand, stood against the opposite wall. Resting on it is an open book, its pages grime-stained and crumpled. You quickly walk over to take a closer look. It appears to be a field guide or journal, covered in sketches and scribblings. Lifting it up, a loose piece of parchment slides out from between the pages. Intrigued, you hold the sheet closer to the candlelight. The writing is erratic, most of the rambling obscured by blots of ink. Only one section is clear – a list of ingredients to make a potion called elixir vitae. They are underlined several times, as if the writer was keen to stress their importance: meadowsweet, lemongrass and white willow. You stuff the sheet of paper into your backpack before leaving the reverend’s home. (Make a note of those ingredients on your hero sheet, they might prove useful later.) You may now investigate the wishing well (turn to 13) or search the herbalist’s cottage (turn to 224).