Frostgrave: Ghost Archipelago: Tales of the Lost Isles

by JOSEPH A. MCCULLOUGH

  We were past the dais and running for the dark maw of the tunnel when the first leapt with curved sword, or simply with claw and fang. They bore down three of the soldiers and there was nothing we could do. At my side, Heln parried a terrible swing aimed at my head and then I swung down at a serpent man who’d dived at his legs. The skull dissolved into red ruin and then I was face to fang with two new ones.

  ‘Look out!’ Desron cried, and drove his sword straight through the nearest. The serpent folk’s companion turned in surprise, which left it open for me to take off its head, which bounded away into the darkness.

  We heard Sora shouting as we reached the tunnel and started in. Lilandra paused at the threshold to send a gust of wind lashing at the serpent folk. The miniature whirlwind set them and their arrows tumbling.

  Then we were running at full speed into the darkness, the torches that the serpent folk had set along the path flaring. There were only seven of us left, Heln, Lilandra, Count Trovis, his nephew, two of his soldiers and me. And we weren’t much to look at, because our clothes were torn and we were streaked with scratches and blood, only a little of which was ours.

  If I’d thought we were home free I was sadly mistaken, because from behind came a resoundingly loud hiss. Over my shoulder I caught sight of a vast and terrible snake head, nearly filling the tunnel. From where it had come I neither knew nor cared, but it was gaining on us. Somehow I didn’t think it was there to spread good cheer.

  We reached the slab I’d dragged clear, then resumed our sprint. Trovis and one of his soldiers were breathing like bellows.

  I didn’t think the snake would make it through, but as I looked back I beheld a curious thing. Instead of the snake, Sora stepped past the gap and then, before my eyes, warped and shifted and grew into the same serpent that had been after us.

  The only good thing about that was that her delay bought us a little more time.

  ‘Almost there,’ Heln said. Maybe we were – a lighter darkness lay about ten paces on. I put on a final burst of speed and drew even with Heln. Lilandra was out in front and through to safety. Desron and one of the soldiers were even with me, but Trovis lagged, and his second soldier was still further behind.

  The snake got the man. I saw it closing on him, saw its mouth widen, heard his scream as it closed down over him.

  Desron, me and the soldier got past and that terrible death was apparently spur enough for the Count, because he came tripping out, right on our heels, looking as though he’d seen a ghost. Turns out a frightened man with the blood of kings doesn’t look any different from a sailor who’s been scared witless.

  We’d made it clear, but a giant snake was still after us. I figured it wouldn’t have much trouble tracking us tasty treats into the foliage. Barring sudden intervention from a hungry thunder lizard, we were all going to be night-time snacks.

  We only really had one chance. On my right was one of those huge carven columns, draped with vines, right beside a huge palm.

  I can’t recall that there was any day, before or since, when I called up the blood burn so many times. I was almost dead on my feet. I wasn’t sure I’d even stay conscious if I used my powers again.

  But it wasn’t like I’d be conscious if I were dead. So I shouted for the others to run and then dashed for the tree. I scaled the thing, bracing myself between it and the column beside it. With all the vines it wasn’t too much different than climbing a net. Apart from the moment when the giant snake came slithering out of the cave below, I mean.

  Sora in her snake form poked out her head and about six feet of neck, then let go with a flick of her tongue and scouted the darkness. Trovis shouted in fear, which was awfully obliging of him, because Sora let go with a hiss-like cry of laughter and then slithered on.

  I put my back to the pillar, braced against the tree and pushed off it with my legs. And I called on all the strength in my power.

  Ye gods, but the burn this time dizzied me. I felt like I’d had a couple of buckets of the worst grog this side of Tandrini. Behind me I heard a cracking noise and I couldn’t be sure if it was the stone column, or my spine. The whole of my back was one long, throbbing ache.

  Still the column didn’t move. Maybe my idea hadn’t been so great. It seemed to be taking forever. I couldn’t even be sure if the snake was still behind him.

  But something gave, at last. There was a tremendous cracking sound and the support against my back gave way. I hadn’t meant to go with it, but there was nothing to grab, so down I went. I twisted in mid-air, turning far enough to see the final third of the snake slithering along beneath me. Only the upper half of the pillar broke free, in two separate pieces, and both smashed into that snake with a delightful crunching noise just before I slammed into the ground beside its enormous tail.

  I didn’t quite pass out. I just came close. Bright spots obscured my vision and my arm ached where I’d broken it earlier. Idly I wondered if I’d broken it again. I hoped not. Maybe I had that healing power still and maybe I didn’t, but I was in no shape to try any more magic today.

  I struggled to rise, then felt a strong grip on my good arm, and staggered to my feet.

  Heln helped me stand, grinning, and Lilandra pushed stray hairs back inplace, smiling at me, and skinny Desron panted with hands on his knees. I didn’t see any sign of the snake, though.

  ‘Did I miss her?’ I asked.

  ‘Direct hit, Captain,’ Heln said. He was being downright expansive.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Lilandra asked.

  I supposed I was. ‘Where’s the snake?’

  ‘She’s a snake no longer,’ Desron said, and lifted one hand off his knee to point.

  His uncle the Count was bent down near where one section of pillar was embedded diagonally into the ground. Something soft and terrible lay sandwiched between it and the soil.

  Sure, Sora had tricked me, murdered dozens, and would have killed us all, but I still didn’t like the sight of her like that, so I didn’t stare too long. Count Trovis held up the silvery necklace that he’d somehow wrested from her body.

  About that time, a dozen of the serpent folk crept out of the cave. I was spent, and the rest of us weren’t doing so fine and maybe it would have been the end, but Lilandra snatched the necklace from the Count – who only managed an indignant shout – and with a puff of wind leapt to the top of the pillar and raised it high. I saw that its rubies still pulsed, as one, like the beat of some terrible heart.

  At sight of the thing I’ll be damned if the serpent men didn’t, one by one, drop to their knees before Lilandra.

  After that they walked in our train all the way back to the moonlit beach. I wasn’t sure if they were escorts or what, because they were all carrying weapons, but they stood by as we pushed the skiff out towards the waves. Lilandra lingered behind and I saw Heln tense, as if he honestly thought his lover meant to linger behind and become queen of the serpent folk.

  But soon as we had the skiff shoved off, she leapt gracefully and the wind caught her and set her down on the aft rower’s bench. We looked back and saw the gleam of the serpent folk watching us, standing in a silent row. I wondered if any of them was Zhleen. I hadn’t noticed any of them limping.

  ‘The necklace is priceless,’ Trovis was saying. ‘Since there wasn’t any other treasure I’ll give you ten percent of whatever I can get for it. It will be a kingly sum—’

  Lilandra lifted the necklace and sent it curling out over the waves, where it landed with a plop in the sand at the feet of the serpent folk.

  Trovis let out a cry of rage and threw himself forwards. I think if I hadn’t grabbed him, he might have dived after it.

  He erupted with a torrent of terrible oaths, most of which he shouted at Lilandra.

  Heln, unfurling the sail, scowled at him, but Trovis went on, undiminished. His words were unworthy of repetition. Suffice to say that they were full of invectives against the woman for her poor judgement.

  I’d had enough out of him, so I
smacked him with the flat of my blade. He dropped stunned into the bottom of the boat and I looked pointedly at the soldier and his nephew. ‘Any objection?’

  The soldier looked tiredly away.

  ‘I am with you, Captain,’ Desron said with a shake of his head. ‘Your Warden saved us. And may the saints preserve us, I had no interest in taking that necklace along. Who’s to say if it wouldn’t have turned us all into great serpents? It would be hard to carry your bride across the threshold if you had no arms, yes?’

  I’d never really thought about that, but his answer was good enough for me.

  ‘Maybe the serpent folk can rule themselves now,’ I said. ‘Guess we chalk that one up as a loss.’ I faced Lilandra. ‘You probably didn’t want to be rich anyway, did you?’

  ‘Not that way,’ Lilandra said.

  ‘Maybe next time,’ said Heln.

  And we sailed through a strip of moonlight and on for our anchored ship.

  THE RIVER OF FIRE

  BY

  JOSEPH A. MCCULLOUGH

  Thank you for reading Ghost Archipelago: Tales of the Lost Isles. The stories in this book take their setting from a tabletop wargame I designed called Frostgrave: Ghost Archipelago. In this game, each player takes on the role of a Heritor, recruits a Warden, and assembles a band of hardy adventurers to go explore the Lost Isles looking for treasure and, of course, the Crystal Pool. The game is designed to be fast, friendly, and fun, so if you have ever considered jumping into the wonderful hobby of tabletop miniature wargaming, check it out. For those who are already playing the game, we present this exclusive scenario, loosely based on the climactic scene in The Serpent Engine by Ben Counter.

  * * *

  The underground passageway ran on and on. The torches burned low, threatening to go out. Then, up ahead, a soft orange glow danced upon the walls. The passage ended and opened into a vast cavern, filled with stalactites and stalagmites. Through the centre of the chamber ran a river of lava, with small clouds of steam hissing up where water dropped on it from the ceiling. The river was filled with small islands, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the largest one. There, a ruined temple sat precariously above the burning river, a stone sarcophagus just visible amidst the fallen masonry. Could this be the tomb you’ve searched so long to discover?

  Set-Up

  This scenario is designed for two players and should be played on a table approximately 3’ square. The table should be divided in half by a river of lava about 8” wide. In the centre of the table, on a small island right in the middle of the river, sits a ruined temple about 6” square. In the middle of this temple is a sarcophagus. The rest of the river should be filled with small islands and large rocks, so that it is possible to hop across the river at most points. The rest of the table should be covered with stalagmites and scattered ruins.

  The players should each place two treasure tokens on the table. One of these tokens must be placed on one of the rocks or islands in the river of lava, but not in the central temple. The other treasure must be placed within 6” of the river, but not in the river itself.

  The two crews will deploy facing each other across the river. Players roll to determine who chooses their starting edge, with the lowest roller taking the opposite edge. Each player then places all of their crew members within 6” of their starting table edge.

  Special Rules

  In this scenario, the central treasure is hidden inside the sarcophagus. To recover it, a figure must move into contact with the sarcophagus and spend an action to attempt to lift the lid. The figure makes a Fight Roll with a Target Number of 10. If the roll is successful, remove the sarcophagus and replace it with a treasure token and a large snake. The snake should be placed In Combat with the figure that opened the sarcophagus.

  Any time a figure enters the river of lava for any reason it immediately suffers 5 points of damage and may move to the closest point of dry land. A figure may choose to voluntarily enter the river, in which case it takes 5 points of damage as above, and will take a further 5 points of damage at the start of each activation thereafter for as long as it remains in the river.

  Any time a player rolls a 1 for their Initiative Roll, a stalactite falls from the ceiling. That player may nominate any one figure on the table and immediately makes a +5 attack against it as heavy rocks come crashing down.

  Treasure and Experience

  Heritors and Wardens gain experience as normal for this scenario. Heritors are also eligible to receive the following bonus experience:

  +10 experience points if they stand in the ruined temple at any point during the scenario.

  +20 experience points if the Heritor, or any member of his crew, successfully opens the sarcophagus.

  AUTHORS

  Ben Counter

  Ben Counter is a veteran science fiction and fantasy writer with sixteen novels and a slew of short stories and novellas to his name, specialising in game-related fiction of the grimmest and most bloodstained kind. He is a fanatical miniature painter, an evangelical tabletop gamer and a Games Mastering guru, with a fascination for all things dark, gruesome and peculiar. He lives in the south of England where he is constantly surrounded by half-painted models and well-thumbed roleplaying books.

  Jonathan Green

  Jonathan Green is a writer of speculative fiction, with more than sixty books to his name. He has written everything from Fighting Fantasy gamebooks to Doctor Who novels, by way of Sonic the Hedgehog, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Judge Dredd, Robin of Sherwood, and Frostgrave. He is the creator of the Pax Britannia steampunk series for Abaddon Books, and the author of the award-winning, and critically-acclaimed, YOU ARE THE HERO – A History of Fighting Fantasy Gamebooks. He also edits and compiles short story anthologies. To find out more about his current projects visit www.JonathanGreenAuthor.com and follow him on Twitter @jonathangreen.

  Howard Andrew Jones

  Howard Jones’s debut historical fantasy novel, The Desert of Souls (Thomas Dunne Books 2011), was widely acclaimed by influential publications like Library Journal, Kirkus, and Publisher’s Weekly, made Kirkus’ New and Notable list for 2011, and was on both Locus’s Recommended Reading List and the Barnes and Noble Best Fantasy Releases list of 2011. Its sequel, The Bones of the Old Ones, made the Barnes and Noble Best Fantasy Releases of 2013 and received a starred review from Publisher’s Weekly. He is the author of two Pathfinder novels, Plague of Shadows and Stalking the Beast, and an e-collection of short stories featuring the heroes from his historical fantasy novels, The Waters of Eternity.

  When not helping run his small family farm or spending time with his wife and children, he can be found hunched over his laptop or notebook, mumbling about flashing swords and doom-haunted towers. He’s worked variously as a TV cameraman, a book editor, a recycling consultant, and most recently, as a writing instructor at a mid-western college.

  Mark A. Latham

  Mark A. Latham is a writer, editor, history nerd, frustrated grunge singer and amateur baker from Staffordshire, UK. A recent immigrant to rural Nottinghamshire, he lives in a very old house (sadly not haunted), and is still regarded in the village as a foreigner. Formerly the editor of Games Workshop’s White Dwarf magazine, Mark still dabbles in tabletop games design as well as being an author of strange, fantastical and macabre tales. His first Apollonian Casefiles books – The Lazarus Gate and The Iscariot Sanction – are out now, published by Titan Books.

  Visit Mark’s blog at http://thelostvictorian.blogspot.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @aLostVictorian.

  David McIntee

  David A McIntee is a writer, historian, and re-enactor. He was written novels, comics, and audio plays for many genre franchises, including Doctor Who, Star Trek, Stargate, Space 1999, and Final Destination, as well as comics adaptations of works by Ray Harryhausen and William Shatner, and biographies. He has also written and edited nonfiction on the subjects of military history, ancient Egypt, folklore, alien invasions, and treasure hunting. Away from writing,
he is a martial artist, and historical fencer both in the Society for Creative Anachronism and in HEMA. Currently in his fourth lifetime, he is a true Renaissance Man, in the sense of being an unremitting debtor who fights duels with swords. He lives in Yorkshire, with his wife, who is also a part-time writer, and their cats. Any domestic arguments are usually settled with a few tourney rounds in medieval armour.

  Peter Mclean

  Peter McLean is the author of the Burned Man series of urban fantasy novels, Drake, Dominion and Damnation, published by Angry Robot. His debut epic fantasy, Priest of Bones, will be published by AceRoc Books in October 2018.

  He lives in Norwich, England.

  M Harold Page

  M Harold Page, author of Swords Versus Tanks, believes in “write what you know”, which explains the collection of occult tomes, the sword scar, and the battered suit of plate armour languishing in his hall closet. When he’s not writing, parenting or tabletop gaming, his idea of a good time is fighting his friends with medieval weapons. He can be found most Tuesday nights teaching German Longsword at Edinburgh’s Dawn Duellist Society.

  Gav Thorpe

  Gav Thorpe has a long history with the Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000 universes, and has written many novels for the same. He is a New York Times best-selling author with the novella The Lion. His epic swords-and-sandals fantasy Empire of the Blood is available from Angry Robot. Gav has worked on numerous tabletop and video games as designer, writer and world creation consultant. He has also delivered writing workshops and appeared on numerous discussion panels at literature and genre events. He lives near Nottingham with his partner Kez and son Sammy.

  Matthew Ward

  After more than a decade of collaborative effort shaping Games Workshop’s Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000 universes, Matthew now crafts stories across all manner of realities. He firmly believes that there’s not enough magic in the world, and writes for anyone else who feels the same way, as seen in the fantasy realm of Aradane (The Tribute, a Matter of Belief, Shadow of the Raven & Light of the Radiant) and intrusions into ‘our’ world from the land of Eventide (Queen of Eventide, & Edges of the World).