The Heart of Fire (42 page)

Hoping that the rest of your journey will be less eventful, you continue along the track, towards the welcoming lights of Raven’s Rest. (Record the word
raven
on your hero sheet,
then turn to
199
.)

279

As you place the cloth pieces onto the pattern you hear a cackle of delight from the unseen child. ‘Oh yes! They like to play games, Maxi!’

At first you look around with disappointment, having hoped that some form of reward would be forthcoming. Then you spot a wooden trunk resting underneath one of the arched windows. You
don’t remember it being there before. You hurry over, crouching down to push open the lid. Inside you find what appears to be a child’s dressing-up clothes. Several of them glimmer with
special enchantments. If you wish, you may take one of the following rewards:

You also find a leather case that contains a number of blank sheets of parchment. You can’t fathom their significance but decide to take them with you anyway. (Make a note of the
parchment
on your hero sheet, it doesn’t take up backpack space.) As you close the trunk, your eyes settle on the half-open door that leads deeper into the tower. Determined to find
the child and the rest of your companions, you head through it into the passageway beyond. Turn to
391
.

280

Unwilling to make a decision, you turn to Benin. ‘Why should we play this game?’ you scowl, drawing your weapons. ‘You said before, we need to work
together.’

The priest does a double-take. ‘Are . . . are you serious?’ he hisses. ‘Look at it!’

The manticore beats its enormous wings, lifting its body into the air. Then, throwing back its head, the beast gives a thunderous roar.

‘I think it’s too late for regrets,’ you state grimly. ‘You’re a priest, right?’

Benin nods, his mouth hanging open as he stares at the beast’s dagger-like claws.

‘Good. Then say a prayer to that One God of yours!’ Ignoring the sickening fear in your gut, you charge towards the beast. Behind you, Benin calls out the words of a spell,
surrounding you in a shimmering halo of light.

‘I gave you a choice,’ snarls the manticore, its barbed tail whipping through the air. ‘It appears you have chosen to die!’ With a booming roar, the monster lunges. It is
time to fight:

Special abilities

If you manage to defeat the Manticore, turn to
292
.

281

You have almost made it to the other side when something heavy slams into your arm, tugging you backwards off your feet. Before you have a chance to register what is happening,
you find yourself being lifted up into the air. Your right arm and chest have become covered in thick strands of green slime, which are now reeling you in, taking you higher and higher.

In alarm, you see that you are being dragged towards one of the waiting creatures. It has the head and torso of a man, but the lower body and legs of a black ant. The gooey tendrils are coming
out of spiracles either side of its thorax . As you near, the ant-man snatches you out of the air with its hands. Then you are being moved, a bumping, jolting journey, filled with the incessant
clicking of legs and chitinous plates.

You are pushed through a hole in the ceiling, the ant-man scurrying in after you. In the dim light, glowing from the gooey walls, you see a swarm of similar creatures dashing back and forth
along a narrow cave. Some of them are carrying wriggling bundles, which you assume are your companions.

‘Tchk zizzt food,’ chitters one of the ants, who appears to be some kind of overseer. ‘Tchk zizzt queen hungry. More food.’ The bundles are being carried off down
adjoining tunnels that wind away into darkness.

Suddenly you are being spun around, twisting fast through the air. You realise that your captor is seeking to wind more of the goo around you, sealing you in a bundle just like the others.
Desperately, you tug a weapon free with your remaining hand and swing it in the direction of the ant. You hear a high-pitched screech. Again, you swing the weapon, half-blind as to where your blows
are landing.

Suddenly, you find yourself being dropped to the ground. Quickly, you hack through the slime, freeing yourself from its sticky prison. The ant-man is dead, but the others are scuttling towards
you now. The air hums with gooey missiles, as the angry creatures try and catch you in their netting. You must fight:

If you defeat the archer ants, turn to
311
.

282

‘No, Benin!’ Ventus appears at your side, breathing heavily. ‘This one is with us. They are not a Wiccan.’

The priest snorts. ‘Then you are fooled. This is a spy – they aid our enemy!’

You open your mouth to protest, but the feathered woman interjects. ‘You owe us a debt, Sanchen. Murlic saved you from Durnhollow. If it wasn’t for us, you would still be rotting in
that cell.’

Ventus balls his fists, the tattooed inscriptions sparking and crackling with holy magic. ‘Be gone, witch! This one does not court demons!’

‘I think they can speak for themselves.’ The woman fixes you with a cold glare. ‘I am Damaris of clan Hannon. Come with me now and I will help you master your powers. Or remain
here with these fools and let their preaching blind you with ignorance.’

283

‘Ah, that’s a real shame,’ he sighs. ‘I could have used you. Say, my name’s Polk. If you come back this way and change your mind, then come find
me. Chances are, I might still need you to make up the numbers. Always the bloomin’ numbers.’

The man moves away, muttering through his beard as he struggles back across the crowded taproom. (Make a note of the number 277. You can turn to that number at anytime during Act 1 to start the
red quest.)

Turning back to the bar, you raise your hand for service. Turn to
364
.

284

The sound of rattling hooves alerts you to your next danger. Eldias moves beside you, tugging another flint-lock pistol from his coat. At first, the sound echoes all around
you, making it impossible to discern its direction. You both spin on the spot, eyes scanning the darkest shadows.

Then you hear the whinny of a horse and a cackle of laughter. From between the buildings a skeletal steed races out into the square, hooves glowing with a spectral light. On its back is a
black-coated apparition – a highwayman – with the head of a flaming skull. In one of its fists is a scythe and in the other a pistol.

‘The reaper has come for you!’ snarls the skull. ‘Expect no mercy from the scythe of doom!’ At that moment, the church organ thunders with a chilling refrain as a jagged
bolt of lightning streaks down from the heavens, striking the blade of the scythe and bathing it in crackling energy. ‘Your end is nigh!’ The skull breaks off into a manic cackle of
demonic laughter . . .

BOOM!

Which is abruptly cut short as the skull is blown back off its shoulders, rolling and bumping along the ground like a child’s ball. There is a pained groan, then the headless body slumps
off the horse into the mud. The riderless mount gives a terrified screech before galloping away as fast as its legs can carry it.

There is a breath of silence.

Stunned, you turn to see Eldias holding a smoking pistol. He gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. ‘What can I say. I hate theatrics.’

His smile quickly fades, however, when the devilish laughter rings out once again. The skull has lifted up into air, flames billowing from its eye sockets. The headless body staggers to its
feet, swaying slightly as it finds its balance. Then, together, the two undead foes move to attack.

‘Figured that’d be too easy,’ grunts the witchfinder. You must now fight: