The Eye of Winter's Fury (108 page)

Talia shakes her head, her attention still focused on her search. ‘He started out with that intention, yes. But his objectives changed – wait, what have we here?’

Suddenly you hear a sickening squelching sound coming from above. Nanuk’s instincts spark into awareness, alerting you to danger. Quickly you jump aside, just as a green fleshy tentacle swings down, grappling for you.

Talia draws her blades, her eyes lifted to the ceiling. There, spread out across the bare rock, is an oozing mass of rotted flesh. And at its centre, a mockery of a human face, snarling with contempt.

‘Mandaleev!’ gasps Talia.

The creature releases itself, dropping to the ground in a glutinous heap of pulpy decay.

Swiftly Talia tugs down her scarf, then presses her lips together to produce a low droning hum. The sound sets the bottles and equipment to rattling – filling the cavern with a ringing vibrato. When it rises in pitch, you notice her twin blades start to vibrate and glow, like they did back in the taproom.

Meanwhile the mound of flesh has begun to swell, pushing jagged bones out of its back to form a set of spines. Loose flabby folds lift and stretch, revealing a toothless maw dripping with slime. From this mockery of a mouth, you hear a garbled slurry of noise, almost an attempt at language – then the air is spattered with mucus and blood as slippery tentacles rush out of the monster’s skin, seeking to envelop you both in their sticky folds. It is time to fight:

	Special abilities
	Miracle grow : At the start of every round (after the first), Mandaleev grows another tentacle, with the same attributes as the previous ones.
	We got chemistry : At the end of every round, you must automatically take 1 damage, ignoring armour , from each tentacle currently in play.
	Good vibrations : For every double you roll for your attack speed, Talia’s energised blades will cut through one of the tentacles, reducing it to zero health (you may choose which tentacle is defeated).

Once Mandaleev is defeated, any remaining tentacles are also automatically defeated. If you manage to best this mutated horror, turn to
393
.

742

The crater is lit by staccato flashes as your enchanted weapons strip apart the demon’s body, leaving it slowed and weakened. You ignore the plaintive begs for mercy, your blows raining down with remorseless precision, each strike eliciting further shrieks of agony from the monster. At last the demon crawls before you, whimpering as it attempts to escape your fury.

‘I am a prince of Valeron,’ you hiss. ‘And all your kind will kneel before me!’

With a bestial snarl, you drive your weapons into its exposed back, scattering the demon’s remains across the floor of the pit.

Once the last rock has settled, there is silence. Save for the soft ringing of the bone charms.

Your blood-hungry eyes meet those of the child. He stumbles out of hiding, his face bunched into a grumpy scowl. His reaction takes you aback. You had been expecting some show of gratitude for having saved his life. Instead, he glares at you in disgust – as if you’d robbed him of his victory, or perhaps his death.

For a moment you wonder if the Skard’s anger will drive him to attack. He takes an awkward step forward, his spear levelled at your chest. But then his resolve crumbles. He turns and lopes away, heading
into the tunnel. You watch him disappear, swallowed by the inky dark of the underworld – and at that moment, you find yourself understanding his decision. The boy has no home or life to return to – no future in this harsh, bitter land. Now he seeks only death. You sense it won’t be long in coming.

If you are a warrior, turn to
665
. If you are a mage, turn to
763
. If you are a rogue turn to
362
.

743

Nine guardians. One to protect each world.
The woman turns her head, gazing off into the starlit void.
Eight worlds have fallen. Only one remains. They went to protect it. To save it. They hold the Well of Ur closed. They gave what was left of themselves. To protect.

‘Wait, you mean the Titans; the norns are Titans.’ You remember back to the stories that Skoll told you, of the eight stone guardians that stand in the witch’s citadel, holding the rift to the shroud closed. And the ninth that chose another path . . .

Yes, Fafnir.
The woman completes your thought.
He wouldn’t make the sacrifice. He couldn’t give up on those who needed him. Alas, he is lost to us. His star has faded.

(Return to
713
to ask another question or turn to
760
to end the conversation.)

744

For defeating the witch, you may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:

When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to
538
.

745

You lift the conch from the ashes of the defeated captain. A ghoulish glow blossoms around the black shell as you lift it to your lips and blow a long, shrill note into the air. The remaining crewmen freeze, then abruptly lower their weapons.

One of their number steps forward, bowing his barnacled head. ‘The
Naglfar
is yours, captain. Blow the horn and she will come – we’ll sail her to wherever you command, sir.’

You lower the conch, your gaze sweeping past the crewmen’s faces to finally rest on the ship’s wheel – a gruesome artefact, crafted from bones and skulls. A smile slowly spreads across your lips. ‘My very own pirate ship. This could get interesting.’

If you are a warrior, turn to
454
. If you are a mage, turn to
377
. If you are a rogue, turn to
260
.

746

You skilfully make your way through the rock belt, taking only minor damage (you must lower your transport’s
toughness
by 1). The dragons have fared less well; their large bodies have been pummelled by rock and stone. Nevertheless, they are still on your tail and gaining fast. Record the keyword
rocked
on your hero sheet, then turn to
773
.

747

Searching through the worktables, you find a few labelled potion bottles that might come in useful. You may now take any two of the following:

If you have the
chemist’s notes
, turn to
484
. Otherwise, with nothing else of interest here, you decide to leave the prison. Turn to
426
.

748

The maggot’s maw sweeps down, engulfing you inside its mouth. With a blast of magic, you smash through the membranous flesh before its inner jaws can take hold. The creature gives an agonised squeal as you rip out of the ruptured hole, making for the safety of the tunnel.

Squirming in pain, the giant maggot throws itself bodily at the wall of the cavern, raking the fetid earth with its immense bulk. You narrowly avoid being crushed by the blow, accelerating away as fast as you can while the tunnel behind you fills with dirt and dust.

For escaping the clutches of the vile maggot, you have gained the following reward:

Maggorath’s rot

(backpack)

A patch of skin dripping

with vile corruption

When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to
675
.

749

The snow is fine and powdery, making visibility poor as the other racers’ sleds whip up a blinding spray, obscuring the sharp rocks and other hidden dangers that could wreck your craft. Your only option
is to risk a burst of speed, to try and get ahead of the pack and out of the dangerous whiteout.

You will need to take a challenge test using your
speed
racing attribute:

If you are successful, turn to
103
. Otherwise, turn to
647
.

750

You try and retrace your steps back to the main cave, but the twisting maze has left you disorientated and lost. After several tiring hours, you finally emerge from the tunnels into a larger cavern dominated by a pool of melt water. You decide to make camp on its banks and resume your journey once the others have rested. Turn to
467
.

751

The prince is light on his feet, moving deftly from stance to stance, parrying your attacks and countering with his own. You quickly lose ground to his skilful onslaught, the green-tinged flames getting closer to your back. To your surprise they give off no heat, only a fierce burning cold. But the fire’s pit is deep and sheer, its shaft stretching away to darkness.

‘I expected more from you, Arran. A prince with your learning, the best weapon masters, the best tutors.’ Sable’s black blade cuts across your cheek. You lean away, slashing for his midriff, but the prince has anticipated your blow, sidestepping it, his boot slamming into your knee. You stagger, thrown off balance.

‘So disappointing.’ Sable raises his sword, threatening a powerful overhead swing . . .

Skoll shoulders into his side. The two of them roll and slide down the dais. The Skard comes out on top but Sable is quicker, snatching
Skoll’s throat in his clawed hand while the pommel of his sword smashes hard against the warrior’s skull.

Skoll slumps off the prince, dazed.

But the Skard has bought you time to recover. Finding your feet, you take a moment to reach for Nanuk. The bear is biting and tearing at the wolf. He has the upper hand, but the wolf is proving a wily foe.

Sable rolls, then springs to his feet – in time to meet your charge. As your weapons clash and spark together, you find yourself inches from his malformed face. ‘The wolf and the bear,’ he sneers with relish. ‘Let’s see who has the sharpest claw.’ It is time to fight: