The Eye of Winter's Fury (59 page)

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Authors: Michael J. Ward

Tags: #Sci Fi & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Fiction & Literature

BOOK: The Eye of Winter's Fury
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‘The frost forge,’ whispers Skoll with reverence. He drops to one knee beside you, his head bowed. ‘The Titan magic lives again.’

You crawl to its edge, scooping up part of the broken shield in your shaking hands. ‘Fimbulwinter,’ you gasp hoarsely.

Skoll helps you to stand, his eyes carefully averted from the ruin of your face. He picks up the other pieces of the shield. ‘We need only hold them in the fires. The magic will remake what was broken.’

A hand on your arm.

You glance sideways, surprised to find even that small movement so difficult. Your eyes feel like lumps of grit, scraping in their sockets.

Anise is at your shoulder, her own gaze focused on the flames. ‘We do this together.’

Each of you holds a shard of the shield, extending them into the fire, pushing the pieces together and holding them. The cold heat from the flames licks around the dull metal, suffusing its broken, jagged edges with a soft glow of magic. It ripples across the surface, forming a network of thin veins meeting at its centre in a pale orb. An eye.

‘It is done.’

You remove the shield from the fire. To your surprise it feels almost weightless, the metal now faded to a glass-like translucence.

‘Fimbulwinter,’ smiles Skoll. He removes his hand and Anise follows suit, leaving you holding the shield. ‘The Titans lend their aid to our cause.’

Congratulations. You have forged the mythical Titan shield, Fimbulwinter. (Make a note of the keyword
resolute
on your hero sheet.) You have also gained access to the frost forge’s magic for the remainder of your adventure. Turn to
82
.

417

The guard removes the one of stars from his hand and places it face down on the discard pile. He reaches into the pouch and takes another stone at random. He has now gained the four of stars:

Next, the hooded ghost discards a stone from his own hand and takes another from the bag. A cold, cackling laughter comes from the shadows of his cowl as he studies his new hand.

‘What should I do now?’ whispers the guard. ‘I have a Queen’s Wave. This could win me the game.’

Will you:
 
Discard the one of hearts?
144
Discard the two of moons?
259
Show your current hand?
517

418

The tunnel opens up into a cavernous hollow. Thick vine-like roots hang like stalactites from the ceiling, dripping a steady stream of green-coloured ichor into a pool at its centre. The gloopy substance bubbles and smokes, occasionally belching clouds of toxic steam into the air.

As you approach the edge of the pool, you notice a number of items trapped in the thick green slop. Your boot accidentally lands in a puddle. You draw it back quickly, watching with revulsion as the toxic liquid begins to eat away at the leather, filling your nostrils with an acrid stench.

You back away from the pool, your eyes straying to the tunnel opening at the far side of the chamber. It offers a route onwards, winding away into the innards of the tree.

Will you:
 
Wade out into the toxic pool?
527
Skirt its edges and continue onwards?
468

419

Legendary monster: Tekksertok the Terrible

You skid down the slope, hoping the valley below will provide shelter from the coming storm. As the ground levels off you find yourself stepping between a myriad of alien shapes breaking out of the lowlying mist. At first you mistake them for ice sculptures, carved by the persistent wind. Then you realise they are bones. Hundreds of them, all resting in teetering structures, like tombstones in a graveyard.

Nanuk pushes into your mind, warning you of danger.

What is it? I don’t . . .

Then you sight the creature between the cupped bones of an enormous ribcage. It moves slowly, the ground crunching beneath its weight. As the creature passes your position you can hear its laboured breathing, each exhalation rattling the surrounding structures and sending loose bones skittering across the ice.

You ready your weapons, advancing cautiously towards the beast. The mammoth’s body reaches over four metres high, covered in long tresses of grey-black hair. The head is rounded, like a knight’s helm, its ridged plate sweeping down past two coiling tusks to form a long leathery trunk. The beast continues to snort great deep breaths as it strides ponderously through the graveyard.

You creep closer, entranced by both the sadness and majesty of this ancient animal, wondering if it has come to this place to die – to finally re-join the spirits of its ancestors. Nanuk pulls at your mind once again, urging you to flee. You cannot understand the cause for such alarm . . .

Until you are hit from behind and sent flying through the air, smashing through several mounds of bones before skidding across the ice. For a moment your vision is blurred, distorting the immense shape that towers above you.

Tekksertok!
The word burns in your mind, filled with impressions of pain and terror.

Desperately, you scrabble to your feet, eyes fixed on the ghostly form of the giant mammoth – almost twice the size of the one you have already seen. You realise this behemoth must be a spirit guardian, a protector of this sacred site.

The mammoth throws back its head, the long trunk raised to deliver a thunderous boom. Then the beast drops forward into a full-on charge, clearly intending to gore you with its enormous tusks. It is time to fight:

 
Speed
Brawn
Armour
Health
Tekksertok
9
6
4
70
 
Special abilities
Tusk punch
: If Tekksertok rolls a
for his damage score, he performs a tusk punch. This adds a further two dice to his damage score (3 in total) and reduces your
speed
by 1 for the next combat round only.
Trunk whack
: If you roll a double for your attack speed (before or after a reroll), you are hit by the mammoth’s trunk. This causes 2 dice of damage, ignoring
armour
, and also lowers your
armour
by 1 (each time) for the duration of the combat.

If you manage to defeat this monstrous mammoth, turn to
540
.

420

You raise a hand to get the barman’s attention. He sidles over, tucking a scruffy looking cloth into his belt. ‘Well, ain’t you the pretty one?’ he smirks, admiring your armour and weapons. ‘A nice show . . . better calibre than the usual merc.’ His gaze shifts back to your face, mouth still twitching with amusement. ‘Shame about the looks, though – what happen, you try to chew the face off a glacier?’

Will you:
 
Ask about work?
469
Ask what he knows about Ryker?
692
Ask what he has for sale?
709
Take a seat in one of the alcoves?
634
Listen to the conversation at the bar?
534
Leave?
426

421

The man fights with a berserk frenzy, shrieking and hollering like one of his birds – yet he is weak and malnourished, and easily overcome. As you stand over his ragged body, you catch sight of the dark blood oozing from a gash along your arm. To your surprise, there is no obvious pain.

What am I becoming?

You go to take a breath, but your chest remains tight and constricted. Instead you end up choking, your throat cutting like razors as you spit out a foul-smelling bile. You wipe it against your sleeve, trembling . . . frightened.

It is some time before you are able to calm yourself – to focus on the matter at hand.
Have to get back
.
Find the others.

Kneeling next to the corpse, you search the body for anything of use. You may now take one of the following rewards:

Feathered fronds
Birdman’s hook
Petrel pelmet
(gloves)
(main hand: dagger)
(head)
+1 brawn +1 magic
+2 brawn
+1 magic
Ability: feint
 
Ability: focus

If you are wearing the
tarred shoulders
, turn to
149
. Otherwise, turn to
114
.

422

After navigating the ice humps, your sled drifts back in pursuit of the other racers. Suddenly you hear a deafening crack, then one of the other sleds disappears from view – plummeting through a break in the ice. You have only seconds to react, in order to lead your dog-team safely around the deadly fissure.

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

 
Speed
Ice breaker
10

If you are successful, turn to
471
. If you fail, turn to
198
.

423

You cut bright ribbons from the spectral warrior, darting agilely around his slashing blades. With each blow you hear an ear-piercing screech rending the air – whether from the warrior or the moth itself, you cannot be sure. As the warrior weakens you step past his guard to deliver a killing blow, driving your weapons through the remains of his tattered body.

The final death cry comes from above – an eldritch scream that echoes back from the gnarled walls of the room. You look up to see the moth’s body hardening and then crumbling, becoming a cloud of thick grey dust. The particles shower down through the dazzling haze, sparkling like yuletide glitter.

Of the warrior, nothing now remains, save for a rainbow of light sparkling above a rare treasure. You may now help yourself to one of the following:

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