(requirement: monk)
When you have made your decision, you return to the courtyard. Turn to 510.
570
‘You’re wasting time,’ you reply, raising your voice above the incessant thunder of the rain. ‘I’ll help you. For a cut of the prize.’
The two hunters exchange looks. Weasel scowls and looks about to argue, but his friend lowers his knife and starts towards the forest. ‘I had enough of this place already,’ he grunts. ‘Let’s get this done. Save the rest for camp.’
The dark-skinned hunter leads the way, moving quickly through the rain-dripping foliage, his spitting torch streaking its own trail behind him. He stops occasionally, checking a muddy imprint or a bent leaf stalk, then changes direction, heading deeper and deeper into the claustrophobic jungle.
Suddenly, without warning, a black body flies out from the undergrowth, slamming into the weasel and sending him screaming into the jungle. You hear a savage roar and the sickening sound of claws rending through flesh. You stagger back, as does the dark-skinned hunter, both of you momentarily shaken by the suddenness of the attack.
A male tigris bounds back through the trees, its powerful legs driving it into the other hunter. They crash together, going down into the watery mud. A knife flashes, slashing into the beast’s side – but the creature shows no sign of pain, its claws seeking to rake through the hunter’s leather armour. Quickly, you race forward, swinging your weapons and knocking the tigris away.
The beast rolls over, then springs back onto its hind legs, golden eyes glaring at you with a fierce defiance. For a moment, you are caught between running and fighting – then the tigris pounces. You must fight:
Special abilities
Revenge of the tigris: Your opponent fights with a fierce determination, keen to defend his fleeing pack mates. The tigris rolls three dice for damage and chooses the highest single die result to use for his damage score.
Bleed: After the tigris makes a successful attack that causes health damage, you must take a further point of damage at the end of each combat round.
If you manage to defeat this savage opponent, turn to 678.
571
As you head along the sea front, you see a group of sailors hoisting bamboo cages onto the largest of the merchant vessels. You edge closer, to try and get a look inside one of the cages, but a bare-chested brute with thick hairy arms shoves you away.
‘Move on or I’ll be using yer as bait,’ he growls. From the unsettling array of knives and pistols at his belt, you decide to heed his warning.
Further along the promenade, one building in particular catches your eye. Its entrance-way is fashioned from a giant turtle shell, raised up on stilts to create a sheltered awning. Behind it a wooden shack extends back into the trees, painted in a gaudy assortment of rainbow-coloured hues. Small, pig-like creatures are scurrying around the entrance, snorting and squealing as they nip and chase each other. A sign dangling from the arched-shell reads ‘Yootha’s Trading Post’.
Next to it is an altogether less flamboyant building – a rickety lodge topped with a sagging roof of palm fronds. An elderly man is sat on its veranda, soaking his feet in a bucket of water. A pirate-hat rests lopsidedly on his balding head. ‘Hey there, need somewhere to stay?’ calls the man, splashing his feet in the water. ‘Only 1 gold crown a night at Bertie’s hostel. And the cockroaches come free.’
As you contemplate his special offer, your attention is drawn to a tract of beach, where a collection of cages and baskets are resting on the sand. A young dark-skinned woman with oil-braided hair and sparkling jewellery is pacing in front of her wares – calmly handling the giant snake that rests across her shoulders. ‘Looking for something more exotic?’ she asks, offering you a playful smile.
‘I’ve told you again and again,’ snaps a voice behind you. ‘Don’t use the mosquito repellent on the parchment. Not the parchment!’ You turn to see a grey-robed man in a straw hat, hurrying along the promenade. He is clutching a number of charts and scroll cases to his chest. A scrawny youth with a tangle of ginger hair is struggling to keep up, his sunburnt face craning around a tall pile of books. ‘Hurry up, those are priceless works!’ snaps the man, kicking up a dust cloud as he quickens his pace.
Will you:
Visit the trading post? — 578
Visit the hostel? — 594
View the exotic pets? — 486
Talk to the scholar? — 402
Head into the jungle? — Turn to the Act 2 map
572
You hear the scuffing of feet on stone. Turning, you see Scar-face standing beneath a ruined arch, his fur matted with mud and dust. He nods in greeting. ‘We stand together, bright claw.’
The witch lurches towards you, her black robes rustling across the stone. ‘Unfortunate you are still alive, tigris, but no matter. Together, you will make a most splendid feast.’
You ready your weapons and prepare to fight:
Special abilities
Mental daggers: You must lose 2 health at the end of each combat round.
Delirium: If you take health damage from the succubus’ damage score, you are immediately inflicted with delirium. If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is or then your attack misses its mark and you cannot roll for damage. If the result is or more, you can roll for damage as normal.
Revenge of the tigris: Scar-face adds 2 to your damage score for the duration of this combat.
If you manage to defeat the succubus, turn to 591.
573
The column of wind roars through the ruined spaces of the old temple. ‘This one angry spirit! Watch yourself!’ Boom Mamba ducks behind a wall of rubble as the howling vortex blasts through a stone column, heading straight for you.
‘We have to fight that?’ you gasp, staring in horror at the rapidly-advancing gale.
Boom shifts into a crouch behind his staff, fingers tightening around its runes. ‘Zephyr is spirit of air. Take courage. Weaken it and then we take into boom stick, yes? Give us its power.’
‘But how do I—’
The wind smashes into you like a solid fist of rock, lifting you off your feet and sending you hurtling across the courtyard. You crash down onto your back, skidding through the dust as the howling wind bellows overhead. Then it is twisting away, gaining distance ready for another strike. Frantically, you scramble to your feet, fear and adrenaline helping to block out the pain. After retrieving your weapons you spin around, ready to defend yourself, as the head of the wind-snake rushes in once again. It is time to fight:
Special abilities
Slipstream: If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is or less you are caught in the zephyr’s slipstream and are sucked inside its whirling coils. Instead of rolling for damage, your hero takes 4 damage instead, ignoring armour. If your result is or higher, you may strike against your opponent as normal.
Body of air: Zephyr is immune to bleed, disease and venom.
If you manage to defeat Zephyr, turn to 562. If you are defeated, you may return to 510 to choose a different foe to battle.
574
Clambering to your feet you discover that you are standing on the outskirts of a set of ruins, shrouded in a pale mist. After dusting yourself down, you decide to enter and explore them further. Turn to 459.
575
The frog proves a frustrating opponent, effortlessly avoiding the majority of your attacks. But each lucky wound you manage to inflict saps away at its agility, weakening your opponent and slowing it down. Finally the frog starts to back away, limping towards the waterfall. Weakened by loss of blood, the frog misses its footing and slips – giving you the opening you need to step in and deliver the final blow.
Searching the creature’s remains, you find one of the following rewards:
Sea spray garland
Hunting fork
Fisher’s friend
(necklace)
(main hand: spear)
(ring)
&n
bsp; +1 speed +1 magic
+1 speed +3 brawn
+1 brawn
Ability: wave
Ability: skewer
Ability: hooked
(requirement: mage)
(requirement: warrior)
(requirement: rogue)
Stepping past the body, you clamber up the slippery rocks and pass underneath the waterfall. As you suspected, there is a cave here – a treasure trove of objects, all tangled up in nets of vine. There are also a number of skeletons caught up in the netting, both animal and human, and a golden crown sparkling on one of the rocks.
You may now take one of the following as an additional reward:
King of the pond
Kiss of a princess
Enchanted boots
(head)
(ring)
(feet)
+1 speed +2 magic
+1 brawn +2 health
+1 speed +1 armour
Ability: overload
Ability: charm
Ability: heal
(requirement: mage)
Searching the remains of the other unfortunate adventurers, you find 50 gold crowns and a crumpled map. It looks to have been torn in two, the half you are holding showing a secret trail through the jungle. A name has been scrawled at the bottom, followed by a date: Frobisher. 4.11.1362. Without the other half, it makes little sense to you. (You may take Frobisher’s map if you wish – simply make a note of it on your hero sheet. If you also have Coronado’s map, turn to 606.)
Finding little else of interest in the cave, you leave and continue your journey. Return to the quest map.
576
You offer to join the hunting party. The Sheva leader scowls, ready to object – but Black Patch intervenes. ‘Bright claw think like them,’ explains the younger tigris. ‘Skin knows skin, like we know tigris.’
The other members of the party rumble their displeasure, but the leader appears to be considering his companion’s words. He finally gives a swift nod, ignoring the answering snarls of dissent as he leads the way into the trees.
As if to prove some point, the tigris set a punishing pace, running on all fours to cover the ground quickly. You struggle to keep up, forced to clamber and hack through the undergrowth while they bound agilely over it. At last you catch up with them at the edge of a rocky escarpment. Black Patch has climbed up onto a nearby tree, balancing on a growth of liana to get a better view.
Dropping onto your stomach, you slide forward to join the others. Through the misty dawn, you see a fort-like compound occupying the valley below. Each of its wooden walls ends in a fortified lookout tower, manned by guards. Inside the compound itself you spy several huts, a tent and some cages filled with large and ferocious-looking beasts. The main gates to the compound are open, as a series of carts clatter out onto a cleared track that cuts into the forest. On the back of each cart are a crowd of smaller cages, containing captured tigris. You spot members of the Sheva and Khana pack, as well as other tigris with less familiar markings.
You can feel the tension and rage from your companions. The leader starts to rise, his claws extended. If he had his way, he would charge in right now . . . but Black Patch advises caution. ‘Look,’ he snarls, pointing to the carts. ‘Skins go with cages.’
Sure enough, a line of hunters are marching alongside the carts, armed with blades, pistols and crossbows. You count over a dozen – leaving only a skeleton crew back at the compound, including an eight-foot giant and a burly, black-bearded hunter bristling with weapons. The latter is barking orders, gesturing impatiently at the slow-moving procession.
‘We strike their wood den,’ growls the Sheva leader, baring his teeth. ‘Attack when they weak. Take off head of pack. Then rest fall.’
‘But our kin,’ ventures Black Patch nervously. ‘We must free them, then we strike with many claws. Or we lose them to skin lands. We not see again.’
The leader scowls. ‘That is not our way. Those that fall we leave. They are lost to us.’
‘But they are claws!’ implores Black Patch. ‘They would fight with us!’
You glance at the leader. He is scratching at the earth, torn with indecision. ‘What say you, bright claw?’ he grunts, his eyes remaining fixed on the compound. ‘How should Sheva win this day?’
Will you:
Attack the camp? — 617
Ambush the convoy? — 632
577
The carcass of the creature bobs to the surface of the pool. Then it begins to shimmer and fragment into bright shards of blue light. There is a flash from the totem as Boom Mamba raises it above his head, absorbing the light into its glowing runes.
‘We got the power of Boogaloo!’ declares Boom Mamba, hopping up and down with glee. ‘You do good! Mortzilla will be quaking in fear.’
(By defeating the water spirit, the shaman’s staff has gained the Boogie’s booster ability. Make a note of this on your hero sheet.)
If you are a warrior, turn to 569. If you are a mage, turn to 458. If you are a rogue, turn to 325.
578
You pass through a curtain of beads into a small, stuffy room lined with shelves. As you head towards the counter, you glance at some of the peculiar items on display – a jar containing pickled eels, a monkey-skull candle-holder, a snake-skin umbrella, a necklace of curled fingernails . . .
Behind the counter, a tall skinny woman is arranging flowers in an old boot. Her black hair rises up off her narrow brow in a mountainous peak, decorated with beads and shells and scraps of netting. It gives her the appearance of something that was just hauled in on the last fishing boat.
‘Ooh, what we got here? You don’t look the usual sort,’ she smiles, fluttering her long, glittery eyelashes. ‘Got a serious air about you, you have. Like someone who means business.’ She puts her flowers to one side, brushing her hands against her black silk gown. ‘So, to business then. I’m Yootha Finsbottom – think of me as your personal shopper. You won’t leave here empty-handed or disappointed. That’s my rules.’
Your eyes stray to the collection of jars and bottles on the shelves behind her, as well as a wooden trunk wrapped in iron chains. ‘If you’re going jungle-side then I have a few little Yootha specials to keep you safe and sound. Or if it’s a souvenir you’re after, then may I suggest a genuine Lamuri artefact? Rare and collectible. I’ll cut you a good deal on those. No-one says Yootha isn’t fair.’
Will you:
Ask to see Yootha’s specials? — 593
Ask to view the Lamuri artefacts? — 612
Ask about the jungle? — 520
Thank Yootha and continue your journey? — 571
579
Boss monster: Cernos the demon
The canyon narrows, angling steeply into a tunnel of dark rock. At its end, two carved faces glare at you with flat, expressionless eyes. Dwarves, you assume, from the cropped beards and flabby jowls. The crowns on their brows curve upwards, forming a high archway cut into the side of the great volcano.
You stride into the chamber beyond – a vast alien hall, its vaulted ceiling glittering with veins of silver. For a brief moment, your steps falter as you struggle to take in the craftsmanship of your surroundings. There are no lines or fractures, no customary marks from a stonecutter’s tools – the walls are as smooth as glass, reflecting the sparkling light and magnifying it a hundred-fold.
‘Cernos!’ Your footfalls echo as you march towards the demon. He is facing an immense door, its surface covered in a dazzling array of runes. The demon has put aside his iron casket – and now fumbles with something at the centre of the door. He stops when he hears you approach, his head cocked to one side.
‘You are a tiresome nuisance,’ he growls. ‘How many lives do you have, prophet?’
He turns to face you, his crimson eyes glittering balefully in the torchlight. ‘I gave you a gift, not a punishment.’
You break into a run, weapons flying into your hands. ‘Then consider this a return, Cernos!’
/> The demon gives an incredulous laugh. ‘Oh, so now you think yourself my equal?’
He springs forward, moving with a speed that belies his colossal frame. You crash together, snarling like dogs, trading blows in a frenzied blur that would leave any onlooker dizzy. For several seconds you have the upper hand, your weapons hammering against the demon’s scales. Then a burst of pain flares in your chest. A claw has swept in under your guard, taking you in the ribs and lifting you off your feet. You roll and tumble, coming up hard against the rock wall. The demon moves in quickly, giving you little chance to recover. With a crack of his wings, he leaps into the air, drawing his hooves together, ready to slam them down . . .
You see your death, played out in slow motion – the ribcage shattering in an explosion of bone; fragments lancing through your heart and lungs – your life extinguished in a blood-spattered instant. Then the vision is gone. Time shifts back to the present. You whirl aside, dodging the deathblow . . . The demon’s hooves smash harmlessly into the ground.
‘Too slow, Cernos!’ You scramble back to your feet, weapons raised. ‘I see the future, remember?’
The demon swings around, his half-burnt face creased with fury. ‘Tell me then, fool – do you not see my destiny? I am Barahar’s heir! Ragnarok will be mine!’ He throws up his arms, the air bending and shifting around his scaled fists. ‘All will serve me in damnation!’
A tremble runs through the stone, shaking the walls and rattling your teeth. Then dark magic streaks across the room, gouging great chunks out of the ground. The fragments of rock hurtle towards the demon, folding themselves around his arms to form a brutal set of gauntlets.
The Heart of Fire Page 45
