The Eye of Winter's Fury (56 page)

	Special abilities
	Dive bomb : Each time a terrordactyl rolls a double for its attack speed you automatically lose the round, even if your attack speed was higher. For the remainder of the round you cannot use combat or modifier abilities.
	Fire at will : You may use your nail gun or dragon fire ability in this combat.

If you manage to survive this aerial assault, turn to
29
. (If you are defeated, remember to record your defeat as normal on your hero sheet, then turn to
506
.)

388

The ground gives a violent shudder, strong enough to almost throw you off balance. Unlike previous tremors, this one does not abate, continuing to rattle and judder as you feel some powerful force start to build.

‘What’s happening?’ You look to Segg, who is clutching the arms of his chair with white-knuckled hands.

The mage’s answer, if he ever gave one, is lost to the groaning and shuddering of the walls. You start for the exit, but the ground shifts underfoot, throwing you back across the room. The candles fall from their alcoves, hot wax spattering across the ground. A table shatters, books spill onto the ground, their covers ripping. All of a sudden you are in a familiar darkness once again. You try and focus, but everything is shaking around you. Over the din you think you hear an explosion, then a gut-wrenching crack. You cover your head, half expecting the ceiling to come in, to be buried underneath a deluge of rock.

A moment of silence. The quake has stopped . . .

Then you hear the screams. And a relentless drumming, like fists pounding against a barrier.

‘The wall . . .’ Segg is clambering to his feet, his outline sparkling green in the darkness. ‘Something’s assaulting the walls.’

You frown, still confused. ‘What do you mean?’

‘That’s the sound of the wards – they’re being tested, broken.’

For a moment you envision the high walls of the keep and the holy writing etched into the rock. What manner of creature would throw itself against them, enduring such pain?

A grating rumble makes your stomach turn. You hug the floor, fearing another quake. Instead, a doorway in the opposite wall slides open, filling the room with a bright white light – daylight.

‘To the roof,’ says Segg, passing through the opening and out onto a narrow balcony. A set of stairs wind away out of sight, presumably
to the top of the tower. You follow without question, half running and half stumbling through the dust and debris. Turn to
41
.

389

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
.

390

With the spiders defeated, you run to the boy’s side. He is squirming in pain, his limbs leaving churned furrows in the snow. Pushing back his hood you see that his skin is filmed with sweat, his eyes already glazing over – their life fading.

His body shudders and then lies still.

As you lay him to the ground, you hear a man’s guttural roar. Before you can react you feel hands grab your jerkin, then you are tumbling backwards, a weight dragging you through the snow. A woman’s voice calls out – but the words are drowned by the smack of cold water closing around you. Hands are suddenly around your throat, tightening, pulling you down.

For a second your attention catches on the fern-like plants at the bottom of the lake, the tips of their feathery fronds glittering with globules of light. At least one mystery has been solved. As for the other . . .

You twist and kick, loosening your assailant’s grip just enough to pull him around. You stare into the angered face of a Skard warrior, his long braided hair billowing through the water like a medusa’s snakes. Bubbles spill from his nose and mouth as he goes to reach for
you again, his intention evidently to drown you in the freezing waters.

But you can’t drown the dead.

You clamp hold of his arms, surprising the Skard. Grinning, you watch as he starts to buck and wrestle, the frigid cold of the water quickly stealing whatever breath he still had left.

The scene offers you a moment of curious reflection: to watch a man’s life ebbing away before your very eyes. To see his fear. To know that you have bested him – that you have been proven the victor.

It would be so easy just to hold on. To see it through to the end.

No. I am better than this.

You release his arms, watching as he goes kicking upwards. You follow, breaking the surface of the light-flecked waters. The Skard has dragged himself onto the shore, coughing and shivering, his clothing waterlogged. Behind him you see the boy who ran from the spiders, his eyes glaring at you with a mixture of fear and anger. By his side stands a woman, bent with age, her face weather-worn and creased. A few white whiskers protrude from her upper lip. In her gnarled hands she holds a staff, carved from bone and wrapped with dyed leathers.

‘Verka! Verka!’ The boy is pointing at you, tugging on the woman’s sleeve. She nods, her grey eyes narrowing.

The Skard warrior has tugged a knife from his belt, turning to face you with teeth bared. You merely watch him with a cold detachment as you rise up out of the lake, using your magic to lift you back to the shore. As you alight on the rocks you look down at the gathering of Skards, awaiting their next move. Your hands settle warily on your weapons.

Only then do you realise that they are all staring at your chest – and the necklace of bear claws that Taulu gave you before he was killed.

‘You have what belongs to us,’ says the woman, her voice unusually deep and resonant for one so frail-looking. Her use of the common tongue also surprises you. ‘How did you come upon such a thing? Did you kill him?’

You step down from the rocks, forcing the boy to skitter away. The woman holds her ground, the warrior edging closer to her, his hand still tight around his dagger. ‘Taulu gave this to me. I did not end his life. That was down to another – one he called the witch.’

The warrior’s eyes widen. He looks nervously at the woman, awaiting her response.

‘Smurt Imnek!’ hisses the boy, finding his confidence again. He stabs a finger at you. ‘Smurt Imnek!’

You glance at the woman.

‘He says you killed the boy. His name was Imnek, second son of Vierlod Eddervun.’ The woman nudges one of the spiders with the end of her staff. ‘Is this true? Speak of what happened.’

You recount your discovery of the boys and the fight by the lakeside. The woman translates to her two companions. When you mention the second boy running, the warrior’s face darkens with anger. He rises to his feet, pushing his dagger into his belt. Then he grabs the child roughly, gripping him by his ear. The boy gives a whimpering cry of pain. Words are exchanged, the man obviously berating the boy for his cowardice.

The woman cuts over them, giving a sharp order. ‘Pul tista dek. Imnek it fader.’

The male hisses, then quickly acquiesces to her command, stooping to pick up the dead boy.

Satisfied, the woman’s grey eyes shift back to you. ‘I am Sura of clan Bear. You will come with us.’ She speaks in the same authoritative tone that she used for the warrior. ‘You will meet with Taulu’s brother. You will do this.’

The woman doesn’t wait for a response. She turns and heads up the bank, moving with the surety and stride of someone half her years. The warrior follows, spitting into the snow at your feet. His evident distrust is shared by the boy, who stays close to the man’s side, glowering at you with a sulky frown.

You glance up at the darkening violent-streaked skies. It seems the tranquillity of twilight is over – and a storm is on its way. Stepping over the corpses of the spiders, you trail behind the three Skards as they head out over the snow-whipped plains. Turn to
307
.

391

From your vantage point, you can see the cart and one of the Skards standing next to it – the tall warrior who spoke with Kirk. There is no sign of the other hunter or his dogs, which provides some small relief.

While you debate your next move, the Skard pulls a short wand-like
object from his belt. He steps closer to the cart, holding it out towards one of the barrels. Suddenly, the end of the wand ignites, glowing with a brilliant red flame. In alarm, you realise his intentions – he is going to set fire to the cart and the barrels of tar!

If you have the word
resolve
on your hero sheet, turn to
340
. Otherwise, turn to
300
.

392

As you cross the chamber, the door suddenly creaks open of its own accord. From the room beyond you hear a man’s voice, raised in anger. ‘No! I will not serve you, Zabarach! I will not!’ There is a cry of pain, then the sound of metal scraping across stone. Gripping your weapons, you edge slowly into the next room. Turn to
548
.

393

Clumps of rotted meat litter the cavern floor. Searching through the remains of the mutated creature, you find one of the following items:

Talia has pulled her scarf back over her nose. Returning to one of the worktables, she snatches up a sheet of parchment and begins to roll it up.

‘What’s that?’ you ask with annoyance. ‘What’s really going on here, Talia?’

The bard’s eyebrows knit together. ‘I told you, Mandaleev was a chemist. I got what I came for, now let’s go.’

You grab her arm as she walks past you. ‘What’s in those canisters? Are they dangerous?’

Talia struggles against your grip, then appears to surrender,
slumping her shoulders. ‘Okay, sweet pea. I was hired to obtain a formula for the virus that Mandaleev was working on. It’s a weapon, a very deadly and powerful weapon. But I don’t care about that – I care about my own life and making a better one for my daughter. So, if you would be so kind.’

‘Daughter?’

‘Yes, I’m getting paid a handsome fee for this, honey. Enough that I don’t have to risk my neck again. Trust me, disappearing has its price. And those,’ she nods to the canisters, leaking yellow smoke into the cave, ‘are probably what Mandaleev hoped would transport his virus. Look, relax. I’m going to lock this place up. No one will ever know.’

394

You can use the forge to craft your own magical weapons. For each weapon, you will need a special backpack item. If you have the required item/s, you can make the associated weapon: