The Heart of Fire

by Michael J. Ward

  ‘Tell me – what future do you see now, prophet?’ Cernos spreads his wings, their vastness obliterating the light. Then he surges forward once again, his rock-encrusted knuckles splintering into razor-sharp spines. It is time to fight:

  Special abilities

  Rock fists: While Cernos has the rock fists ability, he adds 2 to his attack speed and rolls 2 dice for his damage score.

  Body of rock: The rock fists are immune to barbs, bleed, disease, piercing, thorns, thorn cage and venom.

  If you win a combat round, you can choose to strike against Cernos or his rock fists. Once the rocks fists have been destroyed, Cernos no longer benefits from their ability.

  If you manage to defeat Cernos, turn to 698.

  580

  Survival is a powerful motivator, driving you to feats of strength and savagery that you didn’t know you were capable of. Your weapons are soon forgotten as you roll through the mud, ripping and biting at the panther, caught up in your own dark rage. Finally, with arms snapped tight around the panther’s neck, you squeeze and twist, listening to the bones crack – and the creature give its last, gargling gasp.

  You slide out from underneath the panther’s body. Only then do you notice your hands, glistening with blue-black scales – each finger ending in a sharp yellow talon. You stare at them in horrified amazement, realising that the demon curse – the transformation – is happening far quicker than you could ever have imagined. You have now gained the following special ability:

  Demon claws (pa): For every double that you roll for attack speed (before or after a re-roll), your hero automatically inflicts 4 damage to their opponent. This ability ignores armour.

  After retrieving your weapons, you turn back to the body, which is already crawling with bugs. It is only fitting that you take some token of this momentous victory before the forest reclaims this infamous predator. If you are a warrior or a rogue, turn to 729. If you are a mage, turn to 714.

  581

  The stepped pyramid looks like some kind of puzzle or magical device. Each tier has a circular depression, designed to hold one of the clay tablets. The first three tiers have already been filled, but the fourth remains empty. The script above the hole reads ‘volax’. You glance around at the remaining clay tablets, strewn across the floor. Most of them have been smashed but three are still intact, displaying icons of animal deities.

  Will you:

  Choose the jaguar? — 759

  Choose the bird? — 725

  Choose the snake? — 767

  582

  Your decision made, you turn away from the hole and prepare to take on the bridge guardians. The arratoch lunges forward on its serpentine body, splitting the air with its shrieking barrage. Avian spins his staff, sending bolts of magic hurtling towards its malign face.

  ‘We have to silence the arratoch!’ he yells.

  ‘I think we got bigger problems!’ Virgil nods towards the charging stone giants. Spinning his blades, he moves to head them off before they can reach the mage.

  For a second you hold back, sizing up your three opponents. Then with a clamouring battle cry, you hurl yourself into the fray. It is time to fight:

  Special abilities

  Brotherly love: Once one of the golems (Olum or Atum) is defeated, the remaining golem goes into a fit of rage. This raises their speed by 2 and brawn by 4 for the remainder of the combat.

  Arratoch alarm: While the wailing arratoch still has health, you must lower your brawn and magic by 2 at the end of each combat round. Once the arratoch is defeated, your attributes are immediately restored.

  Body of rock: Your opponents are immune to bleed, disease, piercing and venom.

  Companions’ courage: Your may add 2 to your damage score for the duration of this fight.

  In this combat, choose one of the golems to attack. If you win a combat round, you may strike against your chosen golem or the arratoch. If you lose the combat, your chosen golem will strike against you. Once you have defeated both golems (Olum and Atum), you win the combat (the arratoch is automatically defeated).

  If you manage to overcome these fearsome guardians, turn to 546.

  583

  ‘Ambition, plain and simple,’ he replies, peering over the rim of his spectacles. ‘Fifteen years I’ve been waiting for funding for this endeavour. Always overlooked – always some excuse. Now I think they sent me here just to get rid of me!’ He chortles, looking smug at his attempt at humour.

  ‘Funding for what?’ you press, glancing around at the books and scrolls.

  ‘Didn’t they bother to tell you?’ he splutters. ‘Send you out here with no clue. Judah save us. Listen – no one to date has written the definitive work on the Terral Jungle. Yes, yes – I know we have a few sketchy journals from the odd explorer – raving with fever for the most part and offering nothing of any academic quality. But this will be a proper scholarly account. That is why I am here. To pen my masterwork – the one I’m remembered for.’ He lifts his chin up proudly in the air. ‘Runtis Bogglespiff. A name never to be forgotten.’

  Turn to 386 to ask the scholar another question or turn to 548 if you wish to leave and continue your journey.

  584

  The demon raises a fist into the air, his clawed fingers still gripping the black runestone. Bolts of magic crackle from its surface, lancing across the room to play along the walls and ceiling. ‘The dwarves built this citadel,’ he bellows, lifting his head to survey the twisted canopy. ‘And its magic will serve me now.’

  All around you the smooth black stone swells and undulates, like waves on an ocean. Even the branches are moving, threading themselves together to form a dark, writhing mass.

  ‘Stop this!’ you beg hoarsely, your eyes dragged from one shifting horror to the next.

  The demon laughs – cold and mocking. ‘I have the key to Tartarus.’ He shakes the black runestone, gripped in his palm. ‘With the heart of fire, I will free Ragnarok and then I will have my revenge!’

  Desperately you draw your weapons, lunging forward to strike – but Cernos spins aside, striking you across the back and sending you crashing to the ground. Then he launches himself skywards, his huge wings beating through the dusty air. You watch helpless, pinned to the ground by the violent tremors, as the demon soars through the chaotic maelstrom of moving stone, leaving you behind to face this, his latest trap.

  The chamber has become a living entity – a giant chitinous creature, supported on hundreds of spidery legs. With a final deafening crunch the beast drags its rear from the palace foundations, the ensuing upheaval sending fractures branching through the stonework. You stagger to your feet, aware that the ground is starting to crumble away, the entire building collapsing into dust.

  Forced onto a precarious span of rock, you realise there is no hope of escape. The beast is scuttling towards you, its entire belly ripping open into a fang-filled maw. It is time to fight:

  Special abilities

  Rock bluff: At the end of each combat round, Sitadell casts a ‘rock bluff’ spell increasing its armour by 2. If you win a combat round, instead of rolling for damage you can remove the spell, reducing Sitadell’s armour back to its starting value.

  Body of rock: Your opponent is immune to barbs, bleed, disease, fire aura, piercing, thorns, thorn cage and venom.

  Once Sitadell has been reduced to zero health, it begins to transform once again. Keep a note of your remaining health, then turn to 672.

  585

  The succubus is a powerful adversary, blasting you with her dark magics while her mind-numbing powers sap at your strength, making your movements sluggish and weak.

  Scowler falls quickly, her blow missing its mark and leaving her open to the creature’s magic. The ensuing bolt of fire spears the tigris as surely as any steel, dropping her to the ground with a mournful cry.

  ‘You cannot defeat me!’ snarls the voice in your ears. ‘This marsh is mine!’

  Alone, you are forced to defend yourself agains
t the witch’s onslaught, giving ground to her powerful magics. Then, when all seems lost, you find some hidden reserve of strength – a bitter fury that floods through your body, helping you to shrug off her debilitating spells. The witch senses this change, pausing in her attack.

  ‘Demon blood!’ the voice whispers.

  Then you fly forward, driving your weapons into her tattered robes. There is a deafening shriek as a black wind pours out of the wound, blowing you backwards. You tumble over onto your stomach, looking up in time to see the creature’s mildewed robes flutter to the ground. There is no sign of a body, only a thin maggot-like worm, dragging itself across the stones. You clamber to your feet, marching forward to drive your weapons into its weakened form. There is a piercing, eldritch screech. Then there is silence . . .

  At last the succubus’ power has been broken – and the marsh is now safe for the Shara Khana to cross. However, it feels a hollow victory, knowing that your tigris companions gave their lives to achieve this end. Turn to 748.

  586

  As you head deeper into the marsh, you start to notice droplets of green slime glistening on the ground. Everything around them is blackened and dead, as if the slimes themselves are responsible for sucking the life out of the land. You give them a wide berth, particularly when you see several start to tremble and convulse as you get near.

  Eventually the boggy ground gives way to a series of craters, filled with bubbling slime. You pick your way between them, finally coming to the edge of a larger depression. At its far side you see a withered-looking tree shuffling back and forth, its roots dragging its wasted body through the blackened ash. From its bark and twisted boughs, green sap drips like tears onto the ground. You ponder if the tree is the cause of this corruption, its blighted sap slowly destroying the forest around it. Drawing your weapons, you march down into the crater. As you do so, the tree lurches around, its trunk splitting open into a jagged mouth. From its depths comes a gurgling roar – then it starts to shamble towards you, claw-like roots ripping through the dead soil. It is time to fight:

  Special abilities

  Septic seepage: At the end of each combat round, the tree oozes a slime to attack you. This causes 1 damage at the end of each combat round, ignoring armour. A new slime is released each round, increasing the damage by 1 each time.

  If you manage to fell this blighted tree, turn to 709.

  587

  If you have the word explorer on your hero sheet, turn to 623. Otherwise, you find little else of interest in the monkey temple. To head back into the ruins, turn to 667. If you have already completed the dark interior quest, you may return to the quest map.

  588

  You race over to the weapon crates, hoping they might contain something useful. However, as you begin to prise open one of the lids you sense a movement behind you.

  ‘Thieving scum!’ A pair of bone-bladed swords cut through the air. Their aim and angle are perfect – intending to cleave you through with a single blow. But your instincts are quicker than any falling blade. You spin aside at the last moment, hearing the sound of wood cracking beneath the weight of the swords. ‘Hey, where’d they . . .?’

  Before your attacker can register what has happened you have slipped behind them, delivering a firm kick to their back and sending them flailing into a pile of boxes. ‘Used to slower prey?’ you smirk.

  The hunter springs to his feet, snarling like one of the beasts in the cages. He is an ugly-looking man, clad in sweat-stained leathers and a battered fedora. ‘Yer fight for them stinking savages,’ he growls, advancing towards you. ‘That the case, yer can join them – I’ll add yer head to ma other trophies!’

  You must fight:

  Special abilities

  Sniper fire: The sniper on the watch tower is firing bolts into the fight. Roll a die at the end of each round. If the result is or less, you are hit and must lose 3 health, ignoring armour. If the result is or more, then Zambezi is hit instead.

  (NOTE: You cannot heal after this combat. You must continue this quest with the health that you have remaining. You may use potions and abilities to heal lost health while you are in combat.)

  If you manage to defeat this dangerous hunter, turn to 780. Otherwise, turn to 664.

  589

  Weakened by your onslaught the immense giant comes crashing down, its chorus of skulls taking on a pitiful wail. You raise the staff and bring it down hard onto the bulbous, saggy flesh, pouring all of the trapped spirits’ power into the blow.

  Then something unexpected happens. Mortzilla begins to fade, its body dissipating into whirling tendrils of purple light. You stumble back, still gripping the staff, as the magic rushes into the pulsing runes. The staff shakes and bucks in your hand, then the purple light is gone . . . and you find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the green clouds of slow-moving mist.

  You glance over to see that the staff has been transformed, its length now twisted into a spear of wickedly-sharp barbs, ending in a crescent blade. The thing is ugly and evil-looking – glowing with black light. You scramble away from it, sensing that it is somehow alive, throbbing with the dark spirit of Mortzilla.

  A cry forces you to spin, your eyes coming to rest on Boom Mamba. The shaman lies on his side, both hands pressed to his stomach. Blood trickles into the cracks of stone.

  You hurry over, kneeling by his side. The shaman struggles to focus with pale, feverish eyes.

  ‘You did it. You did . . . the spirit . . . walk.’ Even in pain, he still manages a weak smile.

  ‘Do you have any healing tonics?’ you ask, glancing at the vials sewn into his bandolier.

  The shaman shakes his head. ‘I’m done for. This is my time.’

  You look back to the twisted black spear. ‘You said Mortzilla would have answers. What happened, the staff . . .?’ When you meet his gaze, you see shame written there – and then realisation dawns. ‘You lied. Cernos never spoke to the spirit, did he? You just wanted me to help you – to complete the spirit walk.’

  The shaman gives a wheezing gasp, blood coating his lips. ‘You only one who could use the boom stick. Only a demon.’

  You shake your head. ‘I’m no demon. You’re mistaken.’

  Boom Mamba’s smile takes on a sad quality. ‘It was me. I spoke to your demon friend. I told him what he want to hear. In return, he help me finish the staff. So I could do spirit walk at last.’

  ‘Cernos helped you? Why?’ A cold bitterness creeps into your voice.

  ‘He knew you be coming.’ Boom’s eyes flutter closed, his breath rattling in his lungs. ‘He knew I make you help . . . perhaps he not think you have strength. Perhaps he think you not live to defeat the spirits.’

  You blink and stare, unable to respond, your thoughts mired in a million unanswered questions. After swallowing a deep breath, you take hold of the shaman’s arms, gripping him tight, willing him to stay alive just a moment longer. ‘Tell me what you told Cernos. What was he looking for?’

  ‘The key . . . key to Tartarus,’ he rasps. ‘Dwarf city . . . sealed after the fall . . .’

  ‘Where is it?’ you insist, aware of the harsh, cutting tone to your words. It shames you, but you know you must find this demon – at all costs. ‘Tell me where the key is.’

  ‘Taken south . . . Lamuri city . . .’ Boom’s eyes open, a grin still playing on his lips. ‘You do good . . . you give best boom ever . . . ancestors favour . . . you’. Then the shaman’s smile fades and his chest heaves its last breath.

  You stand as if in a dream, still bewildered by what has happened. If what Boom says is true, then Cernos has played you like a puppet, knowing you would agree to aid the shaman. But did the demon think you would get this far? Is Mortzilla’s black spear his final trick? You step towards the evil-looking weapon, aware that it is now humming to itself, the air around its purple runes popping with dark energies.

  Will you:

  Risk taking the black spear? — 602

  Leave the ruins and
continue your journey? — 629

  590

  Quest: The bridge of screams

  The colossal walls of the volcano sweep away from its bubbling basin, forming a hollow cone of midnight black. Its many cracks and crevices bleed an endless river of molten rock, spilling over ledges and along weathered channels, to feed the shimmering lakes of fire. Like some tormented monster, the magma spits and hisses with fury, venting great torrents of fizzing steam into the air.

  But this natural spectacle pales into insignificance next to the dwarven city. Where you had been expecting twisted streets and tumble-down houses, its appearance is something far more alien. It puts you in mind of a gigantic candle, melted and hardened to the side of the volcano. Waxen walls gleam in the firelight, dripping with hundreds of spiralling columns, towers and arcane structures, connected to each other by narrow bridges and vertiginous ledges. You twist around, mouth agape, as you follow the chaotic expanse extending almost the full circumference of the volcano.

  It would be a sight worthy of the epic sagas . . . but like Duerdoun, this place has a profound sense of wrongness. You not only feel it – you can see it. Across the sculptured walls, twisted black shapes scramble over each other like flies. At this distance it is impossible to tell if they are human, animal or something else entirely. Occasionally, vague sounds echo back from those smoky heights. Screams, wails, sobbing . . .