The Heart of Fire

by Michael J. Ward

  Turn to 347 to ask Eldias another question. When you are ready to continue, turn to 340.

  181

  The tapestry features a number of embroidered panels; each one tells part of the story of Saint Allam. Your own knowledge of the saint is scanty, having never had time for books in your youth. The woman beside you notices you scratching your head in confusion as you try and make sense of the scenes.

  ‘You’re not familiar with the story?’ she asks. Before you can answer she is already pointing to one of the scenes, where Allam is depicted kneeling in a church, looking up at a bright light. ‘That’s Allam, the youngest of King Gerard’s sons. He was given a message, a vision, that he must journey to the west.’

  Her finger travels to an image of Allam riding at the head of a procession of knights. ‘The king sent him west with an army, and a personal guard of his best knights. Those knights became the six saints.’ The woman points to a further panel, where Allam is shown striking down a misshapen creature with a bolt of lightning. ‘Their armies fought their way west, conquering the trolls and the goblin hordes. But those victories meant nothing to Allam. He was searching for something else – something he called “the True Light”.’

  ‘Did he ever find it?’ you ask, scanning the many scenes.

  The woman shakes her head sadly. ‘They brought much to the west; they founded Carvel and brought the One God’s grace to the pagan peoples. But Allam never found the True Light. Many think it is a myth, something he invented to keep up the morale of his forces. But he always believed in it – and we must believe too. These lands are special. That is why we come here.’

  The woman moves closer to the final panel, where Allam is shown ascending into clouds on angel’s wings. ‘It’s nearly two hundred years to the day that Allam was reunited with the One God.’ She looks your way. ‘You are staying for the All Saint’s celebrations aren’t you? I’ve heard it’s going to be really something. The prince has promised—’

  Her voice grows distant as your attention wanders back to the first image, of Allam kneeling before the bright light of the One God. Could it have been the same light you saw in your recent vision, guiding you through the forest of thorns?

  You mumble a hasty ‘thank you’ to the woman before moving away.

  Will you:

  Talk to the man on the bench? — 152

  Leave the church? — 77

  182

  Lazlo escorts you to the courtyard, where a group of servants are busy unloading crates from a series of wagons. Jeeves appears to be overseeing the operation, furiously scratching notes into a log book whilst hurrying between wagons, snapping at everyone’s heels.

  ‘Just some extra goodies for the All Saint’s festival,’ smiles Lazlo, noticing your look of bewilderment. ‘Fireworks – the very best.’

  ‘And those?’ you ask, pointing to a pile of smaller boxes, each one carrying the stamp of a white rose.

  Lazlo stops, glancing sideways at you. ‘Yes, the white rose. It’s the symbol of the cardinals from the White Abbey. Those are supplies for the war effort.’

  ‘The war effort . . .’ you repeat, confused. ‘You mean, the Church’s fight against the Wiccans?’

  Lazlo winces, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Look, I don’t get directly involved. My supplies are medicinal – potions, cures. I make sure that they go to the right people . . .’ He scratches nervously at the back of his neck. ‘On both sides. That could get me into a lot of trouble. But I trust you are the sort to be discreet.’

  You shrug your shoulders. ‘I try and stay out of politics.’

  Lazlo’s grin returns. ‘And those are wise words, my friend.’ The prince nods to the guards at the gate, who move aside to let you pass. ‘Good luck,’ he smiles. ‘I hope our paths cross again, one day.’ Thanking Lazlo, you leave the castle and return to the bustling streets of Carvel. Turn to the map to continue your adventure.

  183

  Your legs soon ache from your ascent into the mountains. After what seems like a lifetime you finally reach a ledge, banked with snow. Here the goblin tracks are clearly visible, leading into and out of a cave.

  The captain slides his shield from his back and tugs his axe loose from his belt. You see the others similarly drawing their weapons, tensed and ready for combat. Surl, the party’s tracker, creeps forward into the cave. The rest of you follow, unsure what you will find inside. Turn to 87.

  184

  ‘It’s common knowledge that we got a war brewing in the east; been skirmishes with Mordland already. I dare say it won’t be long before the king raises an army and announces another one of them holy crusades. Probably about time – bring some of the One God’s light to that forsaken land.’

  The map-seller’s gaze falls on the domed church. ‘But it’s bad news for us. Inquisitors are being pulled back to the capital. The guards try their best, I know, but they aren’t enough to handle the problems in Carvel. We need them around, not gallivanting off east where’ll we never see them again.’

  Will you:

  Ask for more news? — 137

  Continue exploring upper town? — 77

  185

  Frantically, you turn your back on the advancing zombies and hurry towards the nearest building, a two-storey cottage of grey stone and black wood. You try the front door but it is locked. With the screeching zombies closing in on all sides, you are left with only one choice. Turn to 227.

  186

  You dodge through the bombardment of gooey strands, following the others as they race across the cavern. Up ahead you see a flash of magic and the glint of steel. The captain and several of the others are fighting off a giant creature, which has appeared out of a side tunnel. It has the head and torso of a man, but the lower body and legs of a black ant. Both of its human-like arms end in serrated blades, which the creature is using to slash and hack at its attackers.

  The captain lands a lucky blow, felling the ant-man. He puts a boot to its squirming body as he extracts his axe blade.

  ‘Get moving!’ he bellows. ‘Into the tunnel!’

  Within seconds you are all huddled in the tight space, breathing hard. Even the captain looks momentarily shaken.

  ‘What was that?’ gasps Vas, grimacing at the corpse of the ant-man.

  ‘A massacre was what it was,’ cries Surl, sounding panicked. ‘That weren’t no greenheads.’

  You look around at the party. Of the original dozen, only half remain.

  ‘Come on,’ growls the captain. ‘Keep it together, people.’ He grabs your arm and pushes you forwards. ‘You’re tracker now. Get moving!’

  Feeling more like bait than a valued member of the team, you find yourself leading the group deeper into the cave. After several hundred metres the tunnel widens, joining a much larger passageway which cuts left to right. A chill wind blows from the west, carrying with it a salty, stagnant odour. To the east the passage ascends steeply, heading deeper into the mountain.

  Will you:

  Take the east passage? — 143

  Take the west passage? — 122

  187

  You squat down by the fire, your gaze fixed on the old man. There is no denying that the stew smells delicious – and you are famished. But you are not ready to trust him just yet. Your weapons stay at your side, where they can be easily reached.

  ‘Ah yes, this a little more civilised, isn’t it?’ smiles the old man, spooning some of the stew into a bowl. As he hands it to you there is a bone-trembling roar, reverberating from somewhere deep inside the rock. You drop the bowl in surprise, spilling stew across the ground. Warily, you spring back to your feet, weapons in your hands.

  ‘What’s going on?’ you insist, craning your neck to take in the dark, high walls of the bluff.

  ‘Extreme sports,’ replies the old man, holding his tea cup to his lips. A sudden tremor sends more dirt and dust pluming into the cleft. The man’s tea cup shakes in his hands, spilling tea down his coat. ‘Oh, how bothersome,’ he grimaces, putti
ng the cup aside to brush at the stain.

  You frown, confused by the man’s actions. He doesn’t seem remotely bothered by what is happening. ‘Perhaps we should investigate?’ you urge, stepping out of the way out of a falling rock. It is accompanied by an anguished roar and a series of hollow thuds – as if something large is beating against the ground. Each one sends a tremor through the rock walls, rattling the porcelain tea cups on their tray.

  ‘Very well,’ sighs the man, pushing himself to his feet. ‘But I do assure you, my master is an expert at what he does.’

  There is another wailing scream.

  ‘Extreme sports?’ you ask, with a quizzical frown.

  ‘Just a little spelunking,’ he proffers with a shrug. ‘Cave diving . . . he likes the adrenaline rush.’

  Suddenly there is an almighty bang as the side of the bluff explodes outwards, hurling rock and dust into the snow-drenched sky. Turn to 200.

  188

  Ignoring the pillars, you focus your attacks on the giants, chipping away at their dense armour until some vital spot is revealed. It is a hard and gruelling battle, but your determination pays off – leaving you the victor. You may now help yourself to one of the following special rewards:

  Shockwave

  Stone fury

  Black peak

  (chest)

  (left hand: fist weapon)

  (main hand: dagger)

  +2 brawn +1 armour

  +1 speed +2 magic

  +2 brawn

  Ability: lightning

  Ability: surge

  Ability: deep wound

  (requirement: mage)

  (requirement: rogue)

  If you have the word Wiccan on your hero sheet, turn to 354. Otherwise, turn to 400.

  189

  The narrow hold is filled with stagnant-smelling water. Rotted food, splintered wood and the occasional drowned rat bob up and down on its briny surface.

  Wading through the water, you head towards a set of crates that have been roped together in a thick netting. You take a knife and cut through the top ropes, before prising open one of the crates. Inside, resting on a bed of straw, is a circular metallic object.

  ‘What’s that?’ asks Surl, leaning over to take a closer look.

  Tentatively, you lift the object out of the crate. On one side of the disc, engraved in the metal, is the message: ‘Handle with care!’ A roll of touch paper dangles from its underside.

  Surl’s eyes widen. ‘Oh! I know what that is! Explosives!’ He blows out his cheeks, making an impressive-sounding ‘boom’. ‘Yeah, one of them could take off the side of this mountain.’ He points to another area of the hold, where the ropes have been cut and some of the crates have been smashed open. ‘Wonder if the gobboes got their hands on any?’

  If you wish, you may take any/all of the following items:

  Borehole charge

  The Celeste’s anchor

  (backpack)

  (left hand: club)

  The writing on the side states:

  +1 brawn

  ‘Handle with care!’

  Ability: pound

  Finding little else of interest in the hold, you head back to the deck. Turn to 159.

  190

  Anse pushes on the black-iron doors, which grate and squeal in protest as they slowly slide open.

  From inside the tower a searing heat rushes out through the widening gap, like a blast from a furnace. It is accompanied by a thunderous, reverberating boom, echoing from somewhere deep in the building itself.

  ‘This is surely the moment when someone suggests we turn back,’ says Polk meekly. He looks up at the cracked wall, sweeping away into the chill, white skies. ‘Anyone want to suggest that now . . . please?’

  Joss is first through the doors, an arrow nocked to her bow. Anse follows close behind, moving with a silent and careful grace. You give Polk an apologetic frown, before drawing your weapons and reluctantly following the others.

  ‘Just remember, I suggested it . . .’ mutters Polk, hurrying to bring up the rear. ‘Just remember.’

  As you enter the tower, several images of what you might find flash through your mind. An opulent entrance hall, perhaps, or a cold-stone chamber filled with dusty cobwebs and shifting shadows . . .

  And then your jaw hangs open, your footfalls slowing as you crane your head back, struggling to take in and understand what your eyes are seeing. Turn to 251.

  191

  Candles have been placed inside a series of chalk circles, marked across the hilltop. Three of the circles remain empty. You wonder if the witch meant to complete the ritual by adding more candles to these empty circles. Retrieving the witch’s bag, you find a dozen candles and a tinderbox inside. Perhaps you could finish this strange ritual to see what happens . . .

  Decide how many candles you will place in the sun, moon and star circles. Take each of these individual numbers, in that order, to give you a three digit number. (For example, 5 candles in the sun circle, 2 candles in the moon circle and 3 in the star circle would give you the number 523.)

  Then turn to the resulting entry number to see if you were successful. If you fail to solve the puzzle then you have no choice but to resume your journey. Turn to 215.

  192

  You take the leaves of the sagewort and grind them into a mushy pulp. This is then stirred into the liquid, turning it from white to a light-shade of green. The mixture has started to bubble and fizz. What ingredient will you add next?

  Will you:

  Add meadowsweet? — 104

  Add white willow? — 310

  Add lemongrass? — 287

  193

  The priest reins in his horse in a flurry of mud and water. ‘My friend!’ he gasps, his surprise mirroring your own. ‘The One God shines on us this day.’

  The feathered woman snarls, tugging a black wand from her belt. ‘It seems you have already chosen your side, Sanchen.’

  ‘No!’ The cry comes from Benin, as the Wiccan witch aims the tip of her wand at you. There is a blast of cold, black fire – then you are falling backwards, screaming in agony. The last thing you remember is the rain, spearing down from the black skies, beating against your pain-wracked body. Then the light fades and a feverish darkness takes you. Turn to 338.

  194

  With the ruffians defeated, you are able to snatch the coat from the chair before the half-giant barman lumbers over and grabs you by the scruff of your neck. Despite your protests, the barman drags you out of the inn and throws you headfirst into the mud.

  ‘Now don’t yer come back until yer learnt some manners!’ he bellows. ‘The missus got a worse temper than me, I warnin’ yer!’ He starts to turn, then hesitates for a moment, before looking back with a smile. ‘But good on yer. High time someone gutted that stinkin’ fish.’

  Congratulations! You have gained the following item:

  Joseph’s coat

  (chest)

  +1 speed +1 armour

  Ability: many scales, charm

  Inside a pocket, you also find 20 gold crowns. Remove the word Joseph from your hero sheet. After dusting yourself off, you contemplate your next move. You may talk to the knight and farrier (turn to 177), visit the equipment store (turn to 352), return to the inn (turn to 64) or leave Raven’s Rest (return to the map).

  195

  You push open the door. It takes a few minutes for your eyes to accustom to the darkness. It looks as though the room was once used as a nursery. There is a wooden cot pushed up into one corner and a small bed beside it. A number of dolls and toys lie scattered across the floor.

  You are about to leave and return to the landing, when your eyes catch on something lurking in the shadows: a child, small and hunched over, dressed in a leather vest and breeches. Its head is resting against the wall, its arms hanging limp at its side. You can faintly hear a sad, wet-sounding moan coming from its direction.

  Will you:

  Approach the child? — 10

  Quietly
leave the room and go downstairs? — 55

  196

  The twisted vines pull back, revealing a diamond-shaped dais of black stone. Four large iron rings have been hammered to its four points. From each, a thick chain trails through the fog to a set of manacles, that imprison a giant, hulking creature.

  At first its body is obscured by wings, stretched taut to reveal the corded black veins that snake through the ridged membrane. Then, with a crack, the wings fold back and the creature shifts around, drawing astonished gasps from your companions.

  It is a demon.

  As it rises to its full height you find yourself teetering back, awestruck by its dark and fearsome majesty. It stands over eight feet tall, its broad shoulders covered in spiked plates of hardened skin. The rest of its body is scaled, the serrated edges rippling in the light, its chest heaving with deep, rumbling breaths. Two curved horns, over a metre in length, jut out from its temples, framing a pair of crimson eyes burning with a cruel arrogance.

  ‘Was I not what you expected?’ booms the demon, its commanding tone resonating through your very bones. ‘Perhaps you had prayed for an angel.’ The creature displays a curve of sharp teeth as it lazily flaps its wings. ‘I led you here, prophet. Now you will free me. I have waited such a very long time. . .’

  Before you have a chance to respond, you hear the sound of roots and limbs snapping behind you. One of your companions cries out a warning. You spin around to see the pathway closing, the thorn branches twisting and wrapping together into a solid wall.