Legion of Shadow (35 page)

313

Legendary monster: Logan

You are unprepared for the ambush. Your first warning is a rustle of leaves, off to the side of the track. Then you hear the twang of a bowstring. The arrow hurtles out of the
undergrowth, slamming into your shoulder and sending you reeling back against a tree. As you try and move, a flash of agonising pain draws you up short. In alarm, you realise that the arrow has
gone straight through your shoulder and pinned you to the tree.

A man steps out from the forest, his body and face wrapped in bindings of black cloth. In his left hand he carries a curved long bow, its dark wood pulsing with a spectral light. As you watch
through your pain, the assassin slowly unravels the cloth that hides his face.

You give a sharp gasp of surprise. The man’s skin is a clear, translucent white – completely devoid of pigment – and his eyes are a crimson red, like droplets of blood.

The albino tilts his head to one side, examining you closely. ‘I thought I had killed you once. Perhaps I should be calling you the cat, for it is evident you have more than just the one
life.’

You glance down at the shaft protruding from your shoulder. The black-feathered flight and smooth, dark wood are identical to the arrow that killed the young academy knight.

‘You! You killed the boy,’ you spit, angrily.

‘And you killed my men,’ snaps the assassin, dropping his bow to the ground and drawing two daggers from his belt. ‘You killed all of them. An impressive display of power, I
have to say.’

You grit your teeth, placing your free hand on the shaft of the arrow. In one swift movement, you snap it in two. Your screams echo through the forest . . . screams that fast become sobs of
agony.

‘You have strength,’ says the assassin, his eyebrows raised. ‘You are not at all what you seem, are you?’

Tears of pain stream down your face as you teeter forwards, slowly sliding your shoulder along the broken length of the shaft. At last, you tear yourself free, the force of the pain driving you
to your knees.

‘I promised the knight . . . I would . . . avenge him.’

‘How gallant of you,’ the assassin sneers, twirling his daggers deftly in his hands. ‘Honour, chivalry . . . do you take me for a fool? The only code we live by is death! Do
you know who I am?’

You wipe the blood from your lips. ‘A killer. Nothing more.’

‘I am Logan. Some call me the Reaper.’ The albino starts towards you, his red eyes boring into your own. ‘I’m now going to finish what I started. I hate loose ends
– sloppy work. This time, I will make sure I do the job properly.’

You stumble back to your feet, blood coursing from your shoulder wound. Biting back the pain, you ready your weapons and prepare to fight. (You must begin this fight having already lost 4
health
.)

Special abilities

If you defeat this expert assassin, turn to
394
.

314

The hive queen and her bodyguards lie in curled heaps around you. However, there is little time to celebrate your victory as you can hear the frenzied hum of angry bees
approaching. You make a quick search of the queen’s lair and discover the following items, which you may take:

You squeeze into one of the tunnels and crawl back out of the hive, thankfully avoiding any encounters. As you cling onto the side of the wall, you realise that you will have to
make the jump again – to cross the pit. This will be a much harder challenge, as you don’t have the benefit of a run up beforehand.

If you make the jump, then you are able to return to the main cave and take the other tunnel north, turn
472
. If you fail, then turn to
528
.

315

Quest: The unicorn’s horn

You are drawn into the forest by the smell of smoke and the cries of battle. Hurrying through the thick undergrowth, you finally emerge in a grassy clearing. Dotted around a
campfire are a dozen dead goblins. Most are riddled with arrows, looking like they died before they even had chance to arm themselves. Others made it as far as drawing their swords and daggers, but
from the surprised expressions, now frozen onto their faces, it appears they accomplished very little.

The camp has already been ransacked and searched. As you wander through the scattered debris, you realise that the goblins must have been poachers. There are several half-broken wooden frames
lying in the grass, with fresh animal skins still stretched across them.

You notice a money purse on one of the goblin’s belts. You kneel down to take it, wondering why the attackers hadn’t bothered to loot the bodies. (You have gained 20 gold crowns.) As
you stand, you feel a sharp point pressing into your neck.

‘One more move,’ growls a woman’s voice, ‘and you die!’

From the edges of the clearing, you see figures start to appear from out of the forest. They are all female – clad in tunics of woven leaves and wildflowers. Their skin is the colour of
the forest, mottled with patches of brown and grey. No wonder the goblins had no chance against them; the women are almost invisible as they stand against the forest backdrop. You count nearly
thirty of them – each armed with a short bow and a quiver of green-fletched arrows.

One of the women strides towards you, her bow held in one hand and a sword in the other. Unlike the others, she is wearing a long cloak of golden-coloured leaves. You guess she is their
leader.

‘Why do you trespass here?’ she sneers, her amber eyes flicking to the weapons you are carrying. ‘Are you a hunter also?’

316

The man grumbles something beneath his beard. ‘Yes, yes, if saving the life of a poor lassie ain’t enough for you then I’m sure I might have something about my
person that’ll interest you.’ He twists his head and points to a pack laying some metres away in the dust. ‘Managed to save most of my belongings but my prize invention – my
magic clockwork camera – fell into the rift. If you happen to come across it . . .’ He sighs wistfully, his eyes coming to rest on the jagged fissure. ‘Suppose it sounds odd for
me to be talking about something so trivial, especially at a time like this. But I got to tell you, twenty years of work went into that camera – found the plans in one of those elven
pyramids. Could have made me rich.’ He shakes his head. ‘Humph! It’s probably lying in some dragon’s den now.’

Turn to
538
to ask another question, or
526
to begin your quest.

317

You approach a door on your left. From the other side you can hear a multitude of voices, all seemingly talking at once. It sounds like a large gathering of people. With little
to lose, you carefully lift up the door latch and push open the door.

As you predicted, the room is full to bursting point. But where you had been expecting richly-dressed nobles, instead, you are presented with a rag-tag crowd of commoners. Some are dressed in
little more than peasants’ clothing, others look like travellers, their cloaks and boots stained with mud and dirt. A family huddle together in one corner, the mother and father gazing at
their opulent surroundings with the same wide-eyed amazement as their two young children.

You move around the room warily, listening to snatches of conversation. One woman is gleefully telling her attentive listeners of how she was specially invited to the meal by the count
himself.

‘I met him on the road, only today. I was so honoured when he asked me, I just didn’t know what to say.’

Another gentlemen is explaining how his cart was set upon by wolves: ‘. . . then the count came and the wolves just left me alone. It was quite a relief, I can tell you. Thought I was a
goner to be sure. Then he asked me to attend his ball. Well, I was so surprised I just nodded like a fool.’

It appears that all these people are guests, like yourself – and each has a tale to tell of how they met the count or one of his family, who invited them to the evening meal at a
moment’s notice.

As you ponder the situation, you notice a boy weaving between the crowd. He is tall and skinny, his movements looking stiff and awkward in the heavy black coat he is wearing. You notice that he
is stopping by some of the guests and whispering something to them, then moving on through the crowd.

When he catches your eye, the boy walks over. ‘Listen,’ he says, dropping his voice so he isn’t overheard. ‘Join me by the statue. We don’t have much
time.’

Then he moves away again. Several of the other people are already making their way to the far corner of the room, where a black onyx statue of an angel stands in a torch-lit alcove. Intrigued as
to what is transpiring, you cross the room to join them. Turn to
355
.

318

As you start to climb, several of the roots that you are holding onto begin to split. You will need to take a
speed
challenge in order to avoid falling:

If you succeed, turn to
503
. If you fail, turn to
514
.