The Eye of Winter's Fury (82 page)

‘I’m not a Church man,’ you sigh, settling back into your chair. ‘I can’t help you.’

‘Neither am I,’ grins Talia. ‘But it just so happens there’s a monk here. He gambles and drinks down at the docks – I suppose his religious sensibilities are a little questionable these days. Alas, I know he has a book of scripture. Keeps it with him all the time.’

‘You’re resourceful. I’m sure you could work that seductive charm of yours . . .’ A smile steals across your lips.

Talia grimaces. ‘I’ve tried. I don’t think I’m to his taste. I even tried gambling to win it, but he’s too good a player. I’m also . . . conspicuous, as you have already pointed out. I don’t want his blood on my hands.’

‘You want me to kill him?’ You flinch in surprise.

The woman shrugs her shoulders. ‘I need that book. I don’t really care how you do it. There’s a lot at stake here. I believe there could be all kinds of chemicals down in that basement. It’s an accident waiting to happen.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re doing this out of some environmental concern,’ you smirk dubiously.

Talia answers you with a hard stare. ‘Get me the book and I’ll reward you. Meet me in the prison, past the medical wing. I’ll be waiting.’ The woman snatches up the map and begins to roll it back up. ‘I’m counting on you, honey. Don’t let me down.’ (Record the word
scripture
on your hero sheet.)

586

‘No . . .’ Your hands clench into fists, sending magic crackling through the air. ‘Not her – she did not deserve this!’

By force of habit you reach out for Nanuk, begging for his aid. But your desperate plea goes unanswered. Now there is only a chill hollow where the bear’s spirit had once shone. The loss of Nanuk only makes the pain worse, driving home an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Failure.

‘If only I could give you life.’

The words spark a memory. In your mind’s eye, you are back at Bitter Keep. Another tremor rips through the courtyard. Walls are collapsing. Everything is breaking up. The ground tilts wildly towards the sky, sending rubble and bodies tumbling into the darkness. Your hands flail for a handhold, settling around the corpse of a drakeling. You remember fingers pressed tight to the scaly skin. A flood of energy, passing through you.

New life had been pushed into the drakeling’s body – a mere shadow, yes. But still a life. One that saved your own, on that fateful day.

Is such a thing . . . possible?

Your hand is already moving, fingers reaching for the girl’s throat. Then you stop, drawing back. It would not be Anise. You would create an aberration, a walking corpse – no different to what you yourself
were, once upon a time. But the pain of loss is unbearable. The pain of missing her . . . Surely any life is better than none?

587

‘Vela styker. A blood challenge – a test. To decide who will be chief.’ Sura says it matter-of-factly, as if it is of no consequence. But her words startle you all the same.

‘Blood challenge! To lead your tribe?’ You look around wildly, suddenly feeling penned in by the confines of the ice shelter. ‘I can’t lead anyone – I should be going. I am not meant . . .’

‘Hush, boy.’ Sura chuckles softly, a fond smile creasing the lines of her face. For a moment her kindly expression, the crinkling around the eyes, reminds you of your old nurse, Molly. ‘I will train you,’ says Sura, her tone resuming its usual seriousness. ‘I see you have the power. With my help, I can teach you how to use it.’

588

After severing the demon’s wings you focus your attacks on the eye, smashing through its magical barrier to penetrate the soft, oily tissue beneath. Black ichor sprays from its many wounds as you slice and blast with unrelenting fury, your attacks bolstered by your heightened magic.

The creature dies in silence, its legs twitching feebly in the air.

Then you feel it. An immense rush of calm, like a deeply-held breath finally released. The spinning vortex above you starts to recede,
folding back on itself in angry waves until the evening sky is finally revealed, flecked by curtains of pink and violet light.

The storm continues to ebb – rolling and tumbling through clouds of rock and dust until nothing is left but a thin haze, hugging the contours of the outer city and the wasteland beyond.

The demon has been defeated, and with it the source of the magical storm. Your companions will now be able to enter the city unharmed.

If you wish, you may now take one of the following rewards:

When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to
653
.

589

You tentatively place one foot onto the bridge, the colours swirling and pooling around your boot as it presses against the surface. To your surprise the bridge proves firm underfoot, having the consistency of a soft carpet. Confident that the crossing will be safe, you follow the glittering span over to the floating island – a bare chunk of rock and earth that looks as if it was ripped free from the ground.

At the centre of this odd anomaly is a pedestal – and hovering above it, revolving slowly on an invisible axis, is a magnificent twobladed sword. The hilt and handle are fashioned from a cobalt-blue metal, inlaid with black gemstones. The blades are rapier thin, sparkling with a fine coating of hoarfrost.

Behind the pedestal, there is a black iron chest. A dark aura surrounds it, crackling and hissing with arcane energies. You note several runes and glyphs etched into the lid, their shapes crawling and twisting as if refusing to let their true forms be known.

590

You detect a stale, musty odour as you descend into the darkness. Your own eyes quickly attune to the gloom, noting that the ground below is littered with jagged fragments of shell – eggs. Caul mutters a curse, his hand groping for your shoulder. ‘How d’you see in here? I’m going back for my lamp.’ He starts to turn, but you urge him to wait.

‘Relax.’ You reach out with your mind, touching the dreamscape and drawing on Nanuk’s power. The magic courses into you, searing your veins with its burning chill. Raising your arms, you let the cold fire spill from your fingertips, coating both of your weapons in a pale green light. The radiance blossoms outwards, filling the chamber – and illuminating Caul’s astonished expression.

‘How’d you do that?’ he gasps.

‘Magic,’ you grin.

You turn back to your surroundings, prodding one of the serrated egg pieces. It appears that all the eggs have cracked open; whatever creatures were inside have long since hatched. You cast your light over the fragments, noticing a number of black scales amongst the debris. They remind you of the creatures that you fought at Bitter Keep.

‘Smells like a drake.’ Caul wrinkles his nose.

You look back at him expectantly.

‘I was part of a hunting crew once, down south in the pine mountains. Some creature had got loose, was causing all kinds of havoc. Two heads, spitting acid and fire . . . savage thing it was; took ten of us to kill it.’ He shakes his head as he looks around at the dozen or so eggs. ‘Now, if each one of these was a drake . . .’ He lifts his eyes, the pupils mirroring the ghost-fire from your weapons. ‘We’re in trouble.’

‘Not the most inspiring speech, Caul.’ You turn towards the room’s only exit, a carved stone archway that leads through into a large spacious chamber.

‘They’re crafty beasts,’ warns the hunter, putting two hands to his spear.

‘Indeed.’ You cross the room, boot heels cracking loudly through the carpet of egg shards. ‘Let’s hope they’re also hard of hearing.’

The chamber is a vast hall, the walls and ceiling carved with angular designs. A row of wide square columns cut across the centre of the room, each one trailing black-iron chains across the ground. The nearest one ends in a large collar-shaped device, crusted with blood and grime. Whatever creature was tethered here, it had to be of an immense size . . .

You advance with caution, your light picking out the deep-gouged claw marks that rake the ground and run across several of the pillars. One wall looks like it has been melted by a terrible heat, the angular carvings now frozen in fluid, wax-like patterns.

Caul grabs your arm abruptly, pulling you to a halt.

You don’t need to ask what has startled him. You hear the shuffle of feet, the clink of chain. The shadow comes into view before the creature – a hulking silhouette of darkness that stretches out from behind one of the pillars.

When the beast finally moves into your line of sight you discover it is not the draconian monster you had been imagining, but a hunch-backed giant. It lurches around the pillar, dragging a malformed foot behind it. The creature’s body is half-covered in scales – the rest is a weeping mass of blisters. Tufts of hair sprout from its ridged skull, where a pair of horns curl in opposing directions, both broken and ending in toothed splinters.

The beast turns to face you. For a moment, its sorrowful appearance stays your weapons – but then the creature raises one of its stumpy arms. The scaled flesh ends in a reptilian head, a living creature with burning red eyes and wide gaping jaws. Somehow the two have become melded together; a horrible union of giant and drake.

The jaws crack open and a torrent of fire belches forth. It is time to fight:

	Special abilities
	Drake fire cannon : At the end of each combat round you must take damage equal to the Drake keeper’s current magic score, ignoring armour . (When rolling for a damage score, the Drake keeper uses his brawn ).
	Stalker’s spear : Caul adds 2 to your damage score for the duration of this combat.

If you manage to defeat this hunch-backed horror, turn to
625
.

591

For defeating Instructor Barl you may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:

When you have updated your hero sheet, turn to
444
.

592

You leave the store and head back out into the snow-whipped gale. (The White Wolf Trading Post is no longer available – you cannot visit this location again during Act 1 of your adventure and any items that were stored in your locker are now lost.) Make a note of the keyword
ashes
on your hero sheet, then return to the quest map.

593

The monk opens out his meaty fist, showing you his five stones. This forces you to reveal your own. ‘A Queen’s Wave, double crowned
– beats your fool,’ he declares with a toadish smile. ‘The One God shines on me again. I win!’