The Heart of Fire

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by Michael J. Ward


  516

  You break free of the roots, concentrating your attacks on the toad-like monster. After a furious barrage, the elemental gives a booming, snorting roar, spewing weed and black bile from its mouth. Then it slumps down into the water, its black glassy eyes sliding closed.

  You wade to the shore, where Boom is completing his ritual. The staff has started to glow, its runes flickering with magic. Turning, you watch as the elemental’s body collapses into a thick black sludge, which slides across the water towards the staff. The shimmering runes spit and hiss as the sludge congeals around the shaft, before disappearing inside the enchanted wood.

  ‘That’s a powerful spirit,’ nods the shaman, struggling to maintain a grip on the trembling device. ‘We gonna boom good with this!’

  (By defeating Gaia, the shaman’s staff has gained the earth fist ability. Make a note of this on your hero sheet.)

  If you are a warrior, turn to 528. If you are a mage, turn to 544. If you are a rogue, turn to 246.

  517

  With your foes defeated, you continue up the last stretch of stairs to the temple’s summit. There, set underneath a small pagoda, is a sparkling throne of gold – and slouched across it is a black-haired monkey with a circlet of precious gems resting on his brow.

  Standing either side of the throne are two guards, their long snouts striped with white and red bands. They glance at their leader, who nods with an imperious boredom – flicking his fingers at you as if warding away a fly. The two guards respond instantly, springing forward at an incredible speed. It is time to fight:

  Special abilities

  Feral frenzy: At the end of every combat round, the mandrills raise their speed by 1 (up to a maximum of 14).

  (Note: You cannot heal after this combat. You must continue this challenge with the health that you have remaining. You may use potions and abilities to heal lost health while you are in combat.)

  If you manage to defeat these savage guards, turn to 650. Otherwise, you have failed to assault the temple. Restore your health and turn to 449.

  518

  You take out the scholar’s parchment and add the details to the map. Make a note of the key word east view on your hero sheet, then turn to 472 to continue your ascent.

  519

  The succubus is a powerful adversary, blasting you with her dark magics while her mind-numbing powers sap at your strength. Scar-face is the first to fall, his blow missing its mark and leaving him open to the creature’s magic. The ensuing bolt of fire spears the tigris as surely as any steel, dropping him to the ground with a mournful cry. Scowler tries to retaliate, bounding off a broken column to strike from the air. But the witch is faster, spinning around and catching the tigris in her pale, scaly hands. She hurls the tigris back against the wall, following up with a blast of magic that sends the broken body smashing through the rock and out across the misty swamp.

  Alone, you are forced to defend yourself against the witch’s onslaught, giving ground to her powerful magics. Then, when all seems lost, you find some hidden reserve of strength – a bitter fury that floods through your body, helping you to shrug off her debilitating spells. The witch senses this change, pausing in her attack.

  ‘Demon blood!’ the voice whispers.

  Then you fly forward, driving your weapons into her tattered robes. There is a deafening shriek as a black wind pours out of the wound, blowing you backwards. You tumble over onto your stomach, looking up in time to see the creature’s mildewed robes flutter to the ground. There is no sign of a body, only a thin maggot-like worm, dragging itself across the stones. You clamber to your feet, marching forward to drive your weapons into its weakened form. There is a piercing, eldritch screech. Then there is silence . . .

  At last, the succubus’ power has been broken – and the marsh is now safe for the Shara Khana to cross. However, it feels a hollow victory, knowing that your tigris companions gave their lives to achieve this end. Turn to 748.

  520

  ‘My late husband was an historian,’ explains Yootha, scrutinising her painted nails. ‘I never had time for such pursuits myself, of course, but I did like the tales he used to bring home – of exotic lands and daring adventure. That’s how he won me over and convinced me to come here. The Terral Jungle, of all places! He was always very persuasive, my Stan. A man you could trust.’

  The woman sniffs, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. ‘Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, the jungle. Stan became quite obsessed with it and the Lamuri. Found out about their lost city when studying the Dwarves. Apparently, they had close relations in times past – shared their ways, their magic. And, some say, the gift of immortality.’ Yootha rolls her eyes. ‘Such nonsense. The Lamuri city is a cobwebbed ruin, given over to the jungle. Didn’t stop my beloved Stan though. He believed in the myth, that somewhere in those ruins lies the secret of ever-lasting life.’

  ‘You said “late” husband,’ you state carefully. ‘I take it . . . he wasn’t successful?’

  Yootha distracts herself by adjusting her flower display. ‘Things live. They die. That’s the natural order of the world. Go looking for anything different and you’re a fool. Now, did you want to buy something?’ (If you have the word restless on your hero sheet, turn to 634.)

  Will you:

  Ask to see Yootha’s specials? — 593

  Ask to view the Lamuri artefacts? — 612

  Thank Yootha and continue your journey? — 571

  521

  In order to buy time for the tigris to escape, you charge the two hunters. Weasel pulls the trigger of his pistol – his grin fading fast when it makes a dull, wet-sounding click. You kick the weapon out of his hands, spinning around to meet the other hunter’s thrusting blade.

  ‘Blast it!’ The weasel draws a pair of skinning knives, before lurching into the fray. You must fight the hunters as a single enemy:

  * Once the hunters have been reduced to 15 health or less, turn to 532.

  522

  You rummage through the thief’s pack, finding several of your own pilfered belongings amongst his pots and jars. Finally your hand settles around what you assume is the snake antidote, its parchment label helpfully displaying a snake and a cross.

  The thief is now wracked with convulsions, choking for air. You kneel by his side, tilting his head and pouring as much of the antidote into his mouth as you dare. Most of it spills over his chin, but the wet-gargling sound suggests some of it might have been taken.

  After several tense minutes, the convulsions ease – and the thief’s limbs slacken, dropping by his side. At first you fear the worst, but then his eyelids flutter open, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips.

  ‘Thief’s luck,’ he says.

  You rise and step away – not completely trusting this back-stabbing assassin. But the thief makes no move to attack. Instead, he sits up, arching his shoulder blades. ‘Blasted snake. Never saw it coming.’ He stumbles back to his feet, then catches the heat of your suspicious glare. For a moment, his eyes do their customary flick, shifting from the balcony to the exit – calculating his options. Gloved hands drop to his knives. Then he bristles with surprise. His scabbards are empty.

  You reveal your hands, holding his weapons.

  There is a moment of silence, then you both laugh – the tension of the moment dispelled.

  ‘Take your book.’ You nod to the lectern. ‘I’m here to hunt a demon, not become a scholar.’

  Quito quickly takes the book, stuffing it into his pack. He makes to leave and then hesitates. ‘Know this of Quito – he will always honour a debt.’

  If you are a rogue, turn to 753. Otherwise, turn to 701.

  523

  The ground soon becomes a treacherous mire, the wet earth sucking hungrily at your boots. Thankfully, it isn’t long before you spy a hill rising out of the sump. You clamber up its side, hands sinking through the wet soil and detritus. On reaching the summit, you notice pieces of armour scattered throughout the murk. They are rusted and
covered in a film of green mould, but their intricate design and gilt-edging suggest they once belonged to a proud knight.

  You crawl closer to the nearest piece, a plate chestguard embossed with a golden dragon. As you reach out to take it, the armour suddenly shudders and moves. At first you wonder if it is some forest animal sheltering beneath the plate. But then the earth starts to bulge outwards, lifting the armour with it. The other pieces are also starting to move, rising up on mounds of rotten detritus. They rattle and scrape together, quickly settling themselves around a parody of a knight, its body fashioned from rotted earth.

  A choking wail comes from inside the plate helm, expelling maggots and beetles out of the grille of the visor. You scramble back in revulsion, readying your weapons, as the strange knight raises his fungal-covered blade and moves to attack. It is time to fight:

  Special abilities

  Grappling grubs: Each time you cause health damage to the grub knight, roll a die. If the result is or less, you are showered by nasty grubs which crawl into your clothes and armour. This lowers your speed by 1 each time.

  Disease: Once the grub knight’s damage score inflicts health damage to your hero, you must automatically lose an additional 2 health at the end of each combat round.

  If you manage to defeat this decayed knight, turn to 455.

  524

  Desperately you look for some sort of advantage, whilst the guards’ sweeping blows continue to beat you back into the tangled garden. Then a plan comes to mind. Weaving between the next wave of attacks, you bait the guards to follow you – swiping at their golden limbs then back-stepping away. As the statues lumber after you, they quickly become entangled in the roots and creepers, staggering drunkenly as they seek to find their balance. Whilst they are distracted you move behind them, striking at their exposed backs. The runed armour sparks and hisses as the guards’ magic quickly dies, their bodies becoming statues once again, frozen in situ.

  With the guards defeated, you may now take one of the following rewards:

  Wings of gold

  Burnished knuckles

  Corroded pendant

  (head)

  (main hand: fist weapon)

  (necklace)

  +1 speed +1 armour

  +2 speed +2 brawn

  +1 speed

  Ability: time shift

  Ability: fatal blow

  (requirement: warrior)

  Ability: rust

  Pushing through the foliage, you rejoin the path and enter the ziggurat. Turn to 715.

  525

  ‘The boom stick is ready. Let’s go!’ The shaman points to a narrow side-street, overshadowed by crumbling temples. ‘Now we go boom the big one.’

  Halfway along the street Boom pauses, kneeling down beside a rock. He moves it aside, then slides his fingers into the cracks of the paving stone beneath. With a grunt, he lifts it up to reveal a hollowed-out cavity. He reaches inside, his tongue worming inside his mouth as he struggles to locate what he is looking for.

  ‘Gotcha!’ He tugs out a hooped strap of leather, with over a dozen clay vials threaded along its length. ‘This my back-up,’ he grins, putting his head and arm through the strap so it rests across his shoulder. ‘Take no chances.’ Snatching up his staff the shaman continues down the street, the vials on his make-shift bandolier clinking together as he runs. Turn to 616.

  526

  There is a bright flash of light and suddenly, you find yourself looking upon a sword of purest gold, its crescent blade flickering with magical energies. You may now take:

  Ancestral blade

  (main hand: sword)

  +2 speed +3 brawn

  Ability: piercing, bleed

  The font’s magic has also cured you of your hex. You can now access all of your abilities once again. With your work here done, you leave the pagoda and continue your journey. Turn to 668.

  527

  The forest is beginning to awaken after the storm, the chirruping, warbling shrieks of the wildlife starting to ring out through the rain-dripping trees. As you follow the tigris through the steaming forest, you take time to study your companions more closely. They number only fifteen, four females and eleven males. You suspect their pack has been whittled away by the hunters, their rare pelts prized across Valeron, their fighting prowess demanded in the games and arenas.

  After an hour of trekking north, through thick forested hills, the Sheva halt. The leader is discussing something with one of his pack, a younger male – more slight in build than the rest – his face distinguished by a black stripe over one eye. The others are glaring at you as they wait patiently. You sense that they don’t completely trust you – yet. One of the females, however, saunters over. You have named her White Cloak on account of her having fewer markings than the rest of her kin. She offers a half-smile as she looks you up and down with her bright, green eyes.

  ‘I will believe the great spirit Shonac sent you to us,’ she says, her words ending with a catlike purr. ‘This day we join claws and make the hunters bleed.’

  You glance past her shoulder, to where the leader and Black Patch are now gathering together several of the others. ‘They scout camp,’ explains White Cloak. ‘Before we strike.’

  Will you:

  Ask about the name, Shara Sheva? — 566

  Ask about Shonac, the great spirit? — 542

  Join the scouting party? — 576

  528

  On the banks of the swamp, you discover the remains of several unfortunate adventurers – their grey corpulent flesh bloated with swamp water. Quickly, you rifle through their belongings to see if there is anything worth salvaging.

  You find a mouldy bag containing 20 gold crowns and one of the following items:

  Stoneguard chest

  Thunder

  Mud-sliders

  (chest)

  (main hand: axe)

  (feet)

  +1 speed +2 brawn

  +1 speed +2 brawn

  +1 speed +1 brawn

  Ability: might of stone

  Ability: savage arms set

  (requirement: brigand)

  Ability: unstoppable

  With your grim task complete, you return to the courtyard. Turn to 510.

  529

  Team battle (advanced): Issakhar

  (Note: You must have completed the red quest City of the damned before you can start this challenge.)

  The lava fields break at the foot of the volcano, becoming a series of steep-sided gorges. The ground is hard and cracked, the loose slate making the going slippery and treacherous. Occasionally you spy low-lying clouds of vapour, drifting over pools of water. They bubble and steam, belching sulphurous gas into the hot, smoky air.

  You soon lose all sense of direction, your path determined by the ever-branching maze of valleys and gorges. One such valley eventually brings you to a narrow corridor, with angular slabs of stone set on either side. Even through the misty haze, it is clear that these are not natural formations – they have been placed here for a purpose.

  You examine the nearest stone. Each of its faces has been carved with runes, their stylised patterns reminding you of those you saw at Duerdoun and amongst the Lamuri ruins.

  ‘Dwarven.’

  A man’s voice catches you by surprise. You swing around, your weapons hissing from their scabbards. But there is no one there.

  ‘I suppose this is something of a paradox.’

  You spin again, eyes scanning the lines of stone. ‘Who’s there?’ you growl impatiently. ‘Face me!’

  A shadow moves at the corner of your eye. You snap around, to see a black-cloaked figure step out from behind a carved stone. The hood of the cloak is drawn up to conceal his face.

  ‘Would I be here if it wasn’t for what you said – what you saw?’ The stranger waves a spidery finger in the air. ‘So, so, so perplexing. Am I as much a puppet in this as you, I wonder? Ah, the schemes of gods and monsters . . .’ The man shakes his head, mumbling to himself.
/>   ‘Show yourself!’ you snarl, taking an angry step forward. After trekking across the barren lava flats for the last two days, you are not in the mood for tricks or conversation.

  The man raises two pale hands to his hood, then pushes it back. For a moment you struggle to place the familiar features – a gaunt, hollow face, scars raking across the bald pate; a few tufts of grey hair protruding like spines from the pulpy flesh. Then recognition dawns, hitting you like a blow to the stomach.

  It is the librarian from Durnhollow.

  ‘That’s impossible!’

  You know you should feel anger – a desire for revenge for the tortures you were put through – but your mind is racing with too many questions. How could he have found you? How could he have known you would be here?

  The visions.

  ‘You . . . you listened to it all,’ you croak hoarsely. ‘Why? Why would you do this?’

  ‘I’m here because you need me,’ he replies, the scar on his left cheek tugging at his smile.

  You stare at him, baffled. In your head you can hear the echo of that voice, scratching at your mind, tearing at your thoughts, torturing you in that cell for hour upon hour. ‘I should kill you,’ you reply darkly, hands tightening around your weapons. ‘You have a lot of guts coming here. After all that—’

  The man raises a hand for silence. ‘I am not who you think I am,’ he states firmly. ‘My name is . . .’ He stops, his body suddenly flinching with shock. ‘No!’ he hisses. ‘Stay away! Stay out of this, fool!’ He beats at the side of his head, as if looking to rid it of some nagging nuisance. ‘Do not interfere. You want your fr, free, freedom, don’t you?’ His body continues to twitch and tremble. You notice a purple light flickering along one of his arms, glowing through the material of his clothing. ‘Enough! We do what he says. I am in control now!’

 

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