Contents
Title Page
Series
Copyright
Dedication
Introduction/Explanation
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About the Authors
Bookmark
Notes
Notes
Ultimate Ending
Book 1
Treasures
of the
Forgotten City
Check out the full
ULTIMATE ENDING BOOKS
Series:
Treasures of the Forgotten City
The House on Hollow Hill
The Ship at the Edge of Time
Enigma at the Greensboro Zoo
The Secret of the Aurora Hotel
The Strange Physics of the Heidelberg Laboratory
The Tower of Never There
Copyright © 2016 Ultimate Ending
www.UltimateEndingBooks.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior consent of the authors.
Cover design by Xia Taptara www.xiataptara.com
Internal artwork by Jaime Buckley www.jaimebuckley.com
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For my wife, Aurelia.
Still the best treasure I've ever found.
Welcome to Ultimate Ending,
where YOU choose the story!
That's right -- everything that happens in this book is a result of decisions YOU make. So choose wisely!
But also be careful. Throughout this book you'll find tricks and traps, trials and tribulations! Most you can avoid with common sense and a logical approach to problem solving. Others will require a little bit of luck. Having a coin handy, or a pair of dice, will make your adventure even more fun. So grab em' if you got em'!
Along the way you'll also find tips, clues, and even items that can help you in your quest. You'll meet people. Pick stuff up. Taking note of these things is often important, so while you're gathering your courage, you might also want to grab yourself a pencil and a sheet of paper.
Keep in mind, there are many ways to end the story. Some conclusions are good... some not so good.
Some of them are even great!
But remember:
There is only ONE
ULTIMATE
ENDING!
7
Welcome to the Arabian Desert!
You are DONOVAN YOUNG, entrepreneur, explorer, and most recently, would-be treasure hunter. For the past six weeks you've been working hard to fulfill your grand-uncle's unrealized dream; finding ATRAHARSIS -- the legendary city beneath the sands.
You were always adventurous, and never missed an opportunity to listen to your grand-uncle's tales of traveling the world. As his favorite nephew he left you a journal; the diary of Robert Murdoch, a man who once claimed to have found Atraharsis and then lost it again. The journal contains clues, most in the form of riddles themselves. Included with the journal is a thick piece of triangular sandstone, covered in glyphs, which your grand-uncle always claimed was the key to entering the city.
Unfortunately, finding the city is proving a lot harder than you originally thought. Since his passing, your grand-uncle's estate has fallen into financial ruin. You've used the last of his resources to fund your expedition, but with the money now gone and the supplies run out, your crew has finally abandoned you. Only by securing one or more of Atraharsis's three priceless star jewels, once gifted to the city's greatest monarchs, can you hope to save your grand-uncle's legacy.
This is your third night alone in the desert and a raging sandstorm ravages your small camp. All you can do is ride it out, huddling up in your tent as the wind rips mercilessly at the thick canvas seams. One peg comes loose. Then two. The entire canopy fills with a blast of air and you have a brief, terrifying vision of the whole tent being uprooted and flung into the desert sky.
8
You scramble to your feet! But before you can do anything the flap of your tent swings open and a man enters.
He's small. Scrawny. Covered from head to toe in dust and sand. You don't recognize him as one of your former crew, but it makes little difference. The man spits a mouthful of dirt before quickly getting to work securing the loose tent posts. You join him, and together yo
u barely manage to keep your small canvas shelter from being torn from the ground.
"I am Waif," he coughs finally. Outside the storm still howls, furious at being defeated. "Actually my name is Renn, but they call me Waif. The others, I mean."
You look the man up and down as he dusts himself off. He must be one of Sullivan's crew. The opposing dig team caused you a lot of worry when they first showed up over a week ago. Now, you suppose, it doesn't really matter.
"I'm Donovan. Donovan Young. Mind if I ask how you got here?"
"I left the other expedition," Waif explains. "The other men and I had... differences." He sighs and lowers his head in admission. "In truth I was cast out. Mr. Sullivan would not listen to me. He digs too far to the north, and he operates under dangerously foolish conditions."
"Well I'm sure glad you showed up," you say. Waif returns your smile weakly. The storm passes and the hours tick by. By morning you know all about the other dig team, including how many of your men Sullivan managed to pick up. Sadly you think back to your grand-uncle. To his old manor house, empty now except for a whole lifetime's worth of his personal treasures.
"The best I can do is offer you breakfast," you tell Waif as you step from the tent. "I was actually about to pack up and--"
An object catches your eye, silhouetted against the golden sliver of rising sun. Something is poking up from the sands...
9
"Waif," you cry out in excitement. "Come on!"
Together you bound over to the object, a large four-sided obelisk jutting straight up from the sands. It's covered on all sides with strange glyphs and markings. Some of them you recognize from your grand-uncle's journal.
"What is it?" asks Waif.
"I don't know, but it wasn't here yesterday." All around the obelisk is a base of solid bedrock. The sand is pushed back in every direction.
"The storm," Waif offers. "Maybe the winds uncovered it?"
You run your hand over the ancient column, which towers a good six feet above your head. Right around eye level you notice a very familiar, triangular-shaped hole.
"The key!" you gasp. Adrenaline surges through you as you pull the thick piece of stone from your rucksack. "This must be the lock! The key fits right--"
"Hold on," Waif warns. "Look -- there are holes like this on all four sides. How do you know which side it belongs in?"
He's right. Each hole is the exact same shape as the piece of stone your grand-uncle gave you. You glance down at the journal, searching for answers. There you find a sketch... and a riddle:
North, South, East, West
One Brings Life, The Others Death
Sun and Moon and Stars Bereft
The One Right Way is Not the Left
You look back at the obelisk. "Each of its sides are aligned to the four points of the compass," you say.
10
Below the riddle is a crude drawing. You wonder if it was sketched by Robert Murdoch himself.
"What does 'bereft' mean?" Waif asks.
"It means 'without'," you say absently. And with your own answer, realization suddenly dawns over you. "Waif, I get it! We need to choose the side without the sun or moon or stars!"
Together you circle the obelisk. Just above each of the four keyholes is a mark. On the east face is the sun glyph. Opposite that, on the west, is a moon. A mark symbolizing the stars appears on the south side, and on the north...
"Here," you tell Waif. "The crown. It's gotta be the crown."
You reach up and plug the stone key into the obelisk. Nothing happens.
"Perhaps you have to turn it," Waif suggests.
Well, it looks like you have two choices.
If you turn the obelisk key clockwise, HEAD OVER TO PAGE 47
If you turn the key counter-clockwise instead, FLIP ON DOWN TO PAGE 153
11
You don't know much about jackals, but you do know something about dogs. And turning your back on a pack of charging hounds is probably the worst thing you can do at this point.
"HA!" you scream as loud as you can. "HAAA! HAAAAA!"
You pull your camping hatchet from your rucksack, never taking your eyes from the lead dog. By standing up straight, and flaring your shoulders, you try to make yourself look as menacing as possible.
"HAAA!" Waif repeats a little more awkwardly. His height and stature are unfortunate in this situation, but your partner has the advantage of his torch. The flames leave a trail of greasy black smoke as he waves it before him in a wide arc.
The combined display gives the jackals pause. They halt their advance and begin growling suspiciously, side-stepping in a circle as they try to gain position. But they're still coming...
All of a sudden something flies through the air. There's a loud thump, and the dogs leap off to one side. The snarling is replaced by snapping and biting as the three of them fight tooth and nail in the desert sand.
You back up slowly. Incredibly, the jackals don't even notice you anymore.
"What in the world was that?"
"A haunch of goat," Waif replies. He wipes a greasy hand on his pack as he closes it. "Spiced goat."
Ugh. You're caught between being grateful and feeling sorry for the poor animals. But hey, at least you're still in one piece.
Nice job sticking up for yourself! Now TURN TO PAGE 118
12
Waif reaches out and grabs your arm... but you're too heavy. He doesn't have the strength to hold you, and together the two of you go rolling down the side of the Ziggurat!
The whole world becomes a blur of light and noise. You tumble for what seems like forever, giving your body up to gravity, trying to stay loose enough that you don't break anything. A bed of jagged rock guides you painfully down the stone pyramid, but it also slows your fall. The friction eventually brings you to a sharp, grinding halt.
The next thing you know Waif is standing over you. You stand up, brush yourself off, and take stock of the situation. You're alive, and you appear to be intact. Ditto for Waif. For now at least, it seems you're both okay.
"I suppose we'll be taking your way," says Waif. He points to the dark opening in the Ziggurat. It's only a few steps above where your fall ended.
You nod at him and then cough. Something shifts uncomfortably behind your ribs.
"Let's do it," you say. "Before the pain kicks in."
You can head into the heart of the Ziggurat by GOING TO PAGE 114
13
Hurrying through the city, you're still out of breath when a crude structure juts skyward in the road ahead. Tall and lean, it appears to be made of several large stones fitted carefully together. It also seems oddly familiar.
"This is the monolith," you say, pulling out your grand-uncle's journal. "See? Here it is on the map."
Surrounding the strange totem are three smaller towers of stacked stone. Two of them seem to have fallen over a long time ago. A third one still stands, but only partially.
"The journal talks about this place," you tell Waif, "but in the form of a riddle." You open to the page read the following passage aloud:
Six Spokes Around a Buried Wheel
Three Glyphs of Certain Doom
Tread Wisely Down the Path of Kings
Step Wrong and Seal Your Tomb
"It makes no sense," says Waif. "There are three spokes here, and no wheel. And nothing is buried."
The two of you pace slowly around the monolith in contemplation. In doing so you notice that each fallen tower bears a mark -- or glyph -- carved beneath it. One of the marks is a horse. The second one is a hawk.
"Are these the 'glyphs of certain doom'?" Waif asks nervously.
"I don't know," you reply, "but I'm writing them all down." You notice your partner doesn't appear very happy at the news.
"Should we knock this one down as well?" Waif finally asks, pointing out the third tower. "More than likely there will be another glyph beneath it."
Odds are he's probably right. The column of stacked stone already
leans precariously to one side. But it also looks dangerously unstable.
Do you help Waif topple the third tower? If so FLIP ON DOWN TO PAGE 128
Or maybe you'd rather leave well enough alone. If that's the case, TURN TO PAGE 41
14
The dust envelops you, despite your best attempts at avoiding it. It shimmers. It glimmers. It's horridly beautiful... at least up until you blink, and your eyes suddenly feel like they're being sliced by a thousand tiny razors.
"Waif!" you scream, but it's already too late. Your friend is face down on the floor, unmoving. Malevolent green light continues streaming into the chamber, reminding you of your failure. It's the last thing you see before your eyesight is taken away, signifying that this is indeed
THE END
15
Slowly, without taking your eyes from the cheetah's, you draw forth your canteen and uncap it. Then, as vigorously as possible, you shake a bunch of water in the direction of its face.
Nothing happens.
The cat screams in anger. Waif is staring at you like you just grew three extra heads. Silently you curse yourself as you drop the canteen to the floor of the cave.
Did you really just do that? Let's pretend you didn't. Choose again:
Try fighting the cheetah off with a torch by TURNING TO PAGE 42
Or you can run blindly into the next cave by HEADING OVER TO PAGE 95
16
"Stay here," you tell Waif. "And back me up if anything goes wrong."
You back away slowly and circle around the outside perimeter of the fire pit. No one's ever accused you of being light on your feet, but the sand muffles your footsteps to where you feel like you're being sufficiently stealthy. By the time you get to the opposite side of the circle, the dark figure hasn't moved. He stands there perfectly still, leaning casually against the pillar.
Treasures of the Forgotten City Page 1
