Legion of Shadow

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Legion of Shadow Page 58

by Michael J. Ward


  From the centre of the square, a white signal flare whizzes up into the dark skies, where it bursts into glittering shards of bright light. Following its trail, you see Mathis standing on the platform of a ruined statue. On all sides, shadowy ghouls are attempting to overwhelm his position, their sharp claws promising a painful end. The inquisitor is beating back their efforts with his warhammer, while using a filched shield to deflect incoming bolts of magic from the far side of the square. There, rising above the undulating tide of shadow spawn, is a black-armoured knight. They sit astride a giant four-legged beast, its black hide covered in thick plates of metal. In the knight’s hands is a longbow fashioned from bone, which they are using to send a constant stream of magic towards the beleaguered inquisitor.

  You must decide which of your companions you will aid.

  Will you:

  Help Lansbury and Nyms? — 924

  Help Avian Dale? — 821

  Help Inquisitor Mathis? — 854

  886

  The room is a lot smaller than you had expected for such a grand entrance, however, what it contains more than makes up for any shortcomings. The entire space is filled with a dazzling array of treasures – goblets, caskets, statues, jewellery – its glittering radiance reflected a hundred-fold in the polished armour, arranged in racks along the walls.

  You are left speechless, your eyes roving from one treasure to the next. Arthurian, on the other hand, appears less daunted by the impressive spectacle. He strides into the room, looking around intently.

  ‘It must be here!’ he snaps. He kicks over a statue in his haste to reach a velvet bag. Lifting it up, he spills the contents onto the floor. You watch mesmerised as a stream of golden coins and fist-sized jewels rain across the floor. Snarling, he throws the empty bag aside, his eyes searching the room. Next, he marches over to a trunk, pulling out clothes and hurling them aside. He lifts up the empty box and turns it over, shaking it angrily.

  ‘The mage said it would be here!’ he growls, his head snapping round to focus on the next area of his search. He moves over to a silver casket and lifts it out of a sea of coins. Opening it up, he gives a maddened peel of laughter.

  ‘Yes! Yes!’ he casts the casket aside, raising his left fist to reveal an onyx necklace . Hanging on the end of it is a round pendant, its glassy centre swirling with black smoke. ‘The witch’s charm!’

  ‘Wait!’

  Before you can stop him, Arthurian throws back his arm and brings the pendant down hard against the nearest wall. It shatters, sending black smoke spiralling up into the air.

  Arthurian gives a gasp, stumbling backwards. ‘Yes. Yes . . .’

  His eyes grow wide, his mouth gagging open, gulping for breath. You move quickly to his side, catching him as he falls.

  The body goes into spasm, gripped by a series of abrupt seizures. Then the warrior’s eyes close and he is still, the body becoming limp in your arms.

  ‘Arthurian?’ Gently, you lay him down, aware that the warrior is no longer breathing. ‘So, you finally got your wish,’ you mutter sadly.

  Your attention is caught by the silver crucifix resting against the grime-stained jerkin. You go to take it, when suddenly there is a flash of movement; Arthurian’s hand snaps around your wrist, gripping it tightly.

  As you wrestle to free yourself, you realise that the man’s body is alive once again . . . the chest is rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths; the lips part to give a low moan.

  Then the eyes flick open.

  Instead of Arthurian’s steely gaze, you are met by dark pits of hatred.

  ‘No!’ You break the man’s powerful grip, stumbling back into a clinking mound of gold and silver.

  The stranger springs agilely to his feet, his right arm bursting into purple flames. ‘What is this?’ He stares at you intently, his brow creasing with a sudden confusion. ‘Nevarin? Are you the one who brought me back here?’ He draws the jewelled dagger from his belt. ‘What foolishness is this?’

  You realise that this must be the shadowstalker who tricked Arthurian; the one who stole his body and led his faithful knights to their deaths against the shadow legion.

  ‘Yes,’ you growl, your own shadow mark flaring with anger. ‘Though I intend to send you back to the demon pit that spawned you!’:

  Special abilities

  Mark of fury: At the end of every combat round, your hero takes 3 health damage from the flames that surround the Nevarin. This ability ignores armour.

  Heightened senses: You cannot use evade, sidestep or vanish in this combat.

  If you defeat this sinister foe, turn to 892. If you are defeated, turn to 796.

  887

  Searching the general’s armour, you find a leather pouch containing 150 gold crowns. You may also help yourself to one of the following special rewards:

  Final solution

  Heartache

  Styrax sinew

  (left hand: sword)

  (necklace)

  (ring)

  +2 speed +5 brawn

  +1 speed +1 brawn

  +2 brawn +2 armour

  Ability: acid

  Ability: disrupt

  Ability: webbed

  When you have made your decision, turn to 824.

  888

  As you land the killing blow, you step away from the robber, leaving him to fall to his knees on the muddy ground. His dagger drops from his hand, his pale fingers going to a cord around his throat.

  ‘Judah protect me.’ A flash of lightning picks out the silver crucifix he is now clutching between bloody fingers. When he looks up at you, he is smiling. ‘Did I pass the test? Did I prove my faith?’

  Then, with a cry of anguish, his body begins to unravel, spinning into black coils of shadow that rise up before you in a whirling column.

  Your eyes widen in shock. ‘It . . . can’t be!’

  The robber was a Nevarin, just like yourself. There is a sharp tingling from your shadow mark. You tug back your sleeve to reveal the diamond-bodied serpents branded into your skin.

  As you look back at the writhing mass of magic, you feel the familiar desire welling up inside of you – the overwhelming need to absorb the magic into your mark.

  Will you:

  Resist the urge? — 806

  Absorb the magic? — 827

  889

  ‘Did they send you? Are you here to finish what you started?’ The robber hisses like a cornered serpent, making a tentative lunge for you with the knife. You dodge away, watching him intently.

  ‘Finish what?’ you ask, frowning.

  ‘Oh, games – yes, your kind like games.’ The robber taps the side of his head with the hilt of his dagger. ‘Get inside my head . . . head, yes!’

  ‘I’m not here to play games.’ You raise your hands as a sign of submission. ‘I am here to help you. Perhaps that is why I was brought here – to this place.’ You speak slowly, emphasising each word in the hope that you can calm this crazed vagabond.

  ‘Help?’ he sneers. ‘Why would you help me?’

  You glance around at the dark chamber. ‘I sense you are trapped here . . . or perhaps you are looking for something that you can’t find. Am I right?’

  The robber steps back, looking momentarily disarmed. ‘I just want what was mine.’ You notice him tug his coat over his chest, trying to obscure a silver chain. Dangling on the end of it is a crucifix.

  ‘And I’ll help you, I promise.’

  ‘Promises?’ The robber snickers. ‘It is already too late for me! I will not play these games!’ He takes the dagger he is holding and, with a cry of defiant rage, he plunges the blade into his chest.

  ‘No!’ You rush forward, grabbing the robber by the lapels of his dirty coat. Blood flecks his lips as he looks up at you between his matted hair. ‘I cannot die,’ he rasps. ‘I cannot die. What harm can you do to me?’

  He laughs, crimson spit bubbling down his dirt-stained chin. ‘You cannot harm me, demon!’ Then, with a cry of anguish, his b
ody begins to unravel, spinning into dark coils of shadow.

  Your eyes widen in shock. ‘No! It can’t be!’

  The robber is a Nevarin, just like yourself. There is a sharp tingling from your shadow mark. You tug back your sleeve to reveal the diamond-bodied serpents branded into your skin.

  As you look back to the writhing mass of magic, you feel the familiar desire welling up inside of you – the overwhelming need to absorb the magic into your mark.

  Will you:

  Resist the urge? — 806

  Absorb the magic? — 827

  890

  ‘I understand,’ nods Avian. ‘Then take this. I suspect you will have need of it.’ He reaches into his robes and pulls out a metal globe. ‘Something I made myself.’ He tosses it to you.

  ‘What is it?’ you ask, snatching it out of the air. Turning it over in your hands, you discover that the globe’s surface is perfectly smooth, without marking or decoration.

  ‘It will project a shield around you, for a limited time,’ explains the mage. ‘Use it wisely.’

  Portable shield (1 use)

  (backpack)

  Use any time in combat to raise a shield.

  This shield will absorb 10 damage before

  it is destroyed. Any further damage

  is deducted from your own health

  ‘Thank you.’ You clasp Avian’s hand.

  The mage regards you gravely, as if troubled by something. ‘You will travel to dark places, Nevarin. Of that I am sure.’ He glances up at the doom orb, its magic glittering against the darkening sky. ‘The time has come . . .’ He sighs, his gaze shifting back to you. ‘I think you have fulfilled your apprenticeship, don’t you?’

  He raises his hands – and suddenly bright light flares around the edges of the carpet. A second later and the mage is speeding away, to join the rest of the airborne regulars gathering at the far side of the square.

  You glance down at the globe, and at your own wearied expression reflected in its metallic surface. Indeed, you have come a long way since you first walked across the drawbridge at Avian’s castle, presenting the mage with your letter of recommendation. ‘Dark places . . .’ Pocketing Avian’s gift, you turn your attention back to the square. Turn to 905.

  891

  You smash apart the golem’s body, sending battered sheets of twisted metal careening across the room. Finally, you drive your magic into the beast’s head, ripping apart the delicate array of cogs and wheels. With a wheezing low-pitched whirr, the automaton crashes to the ground in a pile of smoking body parts.

  You may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:

  Charged core

  Meat grinder

  Steel gear solid

  (necklace)

  (left hand: mace)

  (left hand: shield)

  +2 magic

  +2 speed +3 brawn

  +2 speed +3 armour

  Ability: life spark

  Ability: pound

  Ability: retaliation

  (requirement: mage)

  (requirement: warrior)

  When you have made your decision, turn to 805.

  892

  Your final blow hurls the Nevarin back against the wall, where he explodes into a swirling mass of shadow magic. Eagerly, you raise your mark and absorb his dark essence, revelling in the fiendish power that is now yours.

  If you wish, you may change the ability of any one of your items to:

  Usurper (mo): (only usable in hero vs. hero combat). Use any time during a combat to steal a speed or modifier ability that your opponent has already used. You may then play this same ability against them during the combat, based on the ability’s description. Usurper can only be used once per combat.

  Searching the treasure vault, you may also help yourself to one of the following items:

  Justice

  Cloak of ceremonies

  Lion’s tabard

  (left hand: hammer)

  (cloak)

  (chest)

  +2 speed +3 brawn

  +2 speed +2 magic

  +1 speed +2 brawn

  Ability: knockdown

  Ability: radiance

  Ability: fearless

  (requirement: warrior)

  You also fill your pockets with gold, before leaving the vault (you have gained 150 gold crowns). Turn to 846.

  893

  Searching Daarko’s remains, you find a leather pouch containing 100 gold crowns. You may also help yourself to one of the following special rewards:

  The dread mask

  Boots of black fortune

  Ring of rebirth

  (head)

  (feet)

  (ring)

  +1 speed +3 brawn

  +2 speed +2 armour

  +2 brawn

  Ability: overpower

  Ability: feint

  Ability: kick start

  When you have made your decision, turn to 811.

  894

  ‘A wise choice,’ nods Lansbury. ‘I’m glad to see someone listens to my counsel.’

  Nyms starts past you, rolling his eyes as he does so. You grin back at him as you follow, with Lansbury and Caeleb bringing up the rear.

  Moving quickly, you take a wide arc around the paved courtyard, keeping to the shadows of the smaller outbuildings. Most are grey and crumbling, their stonework clogged with weeds and thorny brambles.

  As you pass around the side of the domed building, Nyms suddenly halts, dropping down for cover behind a fallen column. He waves for the rest of you to do the same.

  ‘What is it?’ you whisper, crouching beside him. ‘I don’t see . . .’

  Nyms puts a hand on your sleeve to silence you, and then nods towards a smaller tomb over to the left. As you scan its weed-choked stonework, you suddenly hear voices amidst the drumming rain. They appear to be coming from the other side of the tomb, obscured from view by a mouldering statue.

  Will you:

  Insist that the party investigates? — 931

  Ignore the distraction and continue onwards? — 883

  895

  Lansbury lowers the shield, moving quickly to Nyms’ side. The swordsman lies on his back, cursing as he kicks at the ground in pain.

  ‘Stop struggling. Let me see,’ insists the medic, bending close.

  Nyms lifts his bloodied hands away, his breath rattling in his lungs. ‘Got . . . any miracles . . . left?’ he rasps.

  For the briefest moment, you see surprise on the medic’s face as she looks upon the full extent of the wound. Then she is lost in her art, pressing palms tight to his chest, weaving the skin and muscle back into place.

  It takes only a few moments. Then Lansbury leans back with an exhausted sigh. ‘It is done. Blessed be the light.’

  With a groan, Nyms sits up on his elbows, looking down at the torn shreds of armour. Where there had once been an unsightly gash, there is now newly healed flesh. ‘You know, Lans, I think I could become a believer.’ He pushes himself back to his feet, retrieving his swords from the dust. ‘That’s almost as many lives as you now, Nevarin.’

  ‘Well, don’t grow too attached to your latest one,’ you reply wryly, ‘we’re not out of this yet.’ All around you, the shadow spawn are starting to regroup, their snarls and hollers rising once again.

  ‘At least we won’t be facing them alone,’ states Lansbury, pointing. You follow her gaze to the battalion of magic carpets, sweeping over the battlefield. One of the riders looks familiar.

  ‘Avian Dale!’ You cry, waving a hand in the air. ‘Over here!’

  He breaks away from the others, gliding closer. ‘We’re heading for the doom orb,’ he shouts. ‘Are you with us?’ Across the other side of the square, the rest of the airborne regulars are gathering in formation, preparing to take on the monstrous orb. Avian offers out his hand. ‘If your magic is strong, I could use your aid, apprentice.’

  If you have a magic score of 24 or above, you may accompany Avian Dale. (Turn to 921.)
Otherwise, you decline, wishing to focus your efforts on the ground battle. (Turn to 905.)

  896

  It is Mathis. The inquisitor’s armour is raked with black scars, his hair plastered to his face by blood and sweat. ‘Nevarin,’ he drawls, stumbling dizzily through the haze. ‘I swore to the One God, the maker . . . that I’d destroy all shadow spawn this day . . .’

  ‘Mathis?’ You frown, taking a step backwards. ‘You are not yourself . . .’

  He raises his warhammer. ‘Oh I am perfectly myself, demon!’

  Suddenly, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. A man is standing on the edge of a rooftop, his scarlet coat billowing in the wind. He raises his hand and suddenly you feel the strange force closing in around you once again. You try and struggle, but the invisible bonds hold you fast.

  Then the man is moving, running through the air as quickly and deftly as if it was solid ground. And like a dog on a leash, you find yourself being dragged after him, floating in a magical prison.

  ‘I’ll find you!’ screams Mathis. ‘I’ll find you, demon!’

  You are pulled across a broad plaza, its fountains and pathways now charred and cratered, towards an officious-looking building clinging to a rise of grey rock. You try and discern its purpose – but the invisible bonds shift, spinning you around. Then something hard strikes you across the head, plunging you into darkness. Turn to 928.

  897

  Determined not to allow the mysterious assassin to escape, you dive across the tomb in an effort to reach him. As black lightning streaks from his fingertips, you know you only have seconds to spare. Frantically, you grab hold of the man’s robes, bunching the soft material in your fists.

 

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