Legion of Shadow (123 page)
Special abilities
Clobbering time: At the end of every combat round, the Wrecker spins his ball and chain. To avoid being hit,
roll 4 dice. If the result is equal to or less than your
speed
score, then you have avoided the wrecking ball. If the result is higher, you have been hit and must take 15 damage. You can
use half your
armour
score (rounding up) to absorb this damage.
Inquisitor’s wrath: If you have the word
rival
on your hero sheet, then Mathis will wade into the
combat at the start of round 3, adding 2 to your damage score for the remainder of the combat.
Healer’s gift: If you have the word
companion
on your hero sheet, then Lansbury will heal you
once, any time during this combat, restoring 12
health.
If you manage to defeat the ogre, turn to
917
. If you are defeated, then you may return to an earlier point. Restore your
health
, then turn to
905
.
931
You draw your weapons and start towards to the tomb, intrigued as to the source of the voices. As you near, there is the crunch of booted feet – and suddenly two
black-robed figures appear around the side of the tomb. One is shorter than the other, his rain-sodden hood pulled low over a youthful face. You note that his hands are raised and magic is
flickering around the ends of his fingers. His companion appears to be a tutor of some sort, offering encouragement.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ he states in an eager tone. ‘You don’t have to force the magic. Once the connection is made . . .’
You freeze, aware that you are in full view of the mages, your sudden halt forcing Nyms to knock into you with a grunt.
The necromancers notice you, their eyes widening.
Like lightning, the tutor tugs a wand from his belt and aims it at you. There is a blinding flash of magic and then the sound of crackling flames. You are able to dodge aside, but Nyms takes the
full force of the blast, reeling backwards into the sodden ash.
Caeleb races to your side, raising his shield as another bolt tears across the space, slamming harmlessly against the shield’s runed steel.
Lansbury has hurried over to Nyms, who is groaning in pain. You see her hands flare with healing magic, as she passes a palm across his charred armour.
Then you hear a guttural snarl. Behind the young mage lurches a hunched, misshapen figure. It has the appearance of a ghoul: its body haphazardly formed from bones and rotted flesh. The creature
shuffles forward, its scraggly arms ending in knife-like claws slick with rainwater. It is then that you realise that the young mage is controlling the beast. With a cruel grin, the youth raises
his hand and extends a finger out in your direction. The ghoul’s glowing eyes narrow to angry slits, then with a gibbering cackle of delight, it scampers towards you, its claws raised to
strike. Turn to
911
.
932
The doors are unlocked. Warily, you push them open, finding yourself in a vast, empty hall of white stone. You pause on the threshold, eyes scanning the high walls and vaulted
ceiling.
At your bidding, your shadow mark pulses into life, flooding you with its power. You reach out, sensing for signs of shadow magic. The place reeks of it. But the tang of fear is more palpable.
You look to Nyms, who is eyeing his surroundings nervously, his fingers drumming against the pommels of his blades.
‘I have a bad feeling about this,’ he mutters.
‘Are you . . .
afraid
?’ you ask curiously. It is a sensation almost alien to you now.
Nyms bristles with affront. ‘We don’t all have your talent for coming back from the dead,’ he replies sharply. ‘Just watch my back.’ His swords hiss out of their
scabbards as he steps forward onto the marbled floor.
‘No!’ You put out a hand, but it is too late. The room swiftly darkens as shadows swirl from the corners of the room. They move with purpose, winding towards the centre of the
chamber, where they coil together to form a spinning column of dark light.
‘Allam’s teeth, was it something I said?’ growls Nyms.
‘A trap,’ you reply, edging cautiously forwards. ‘Someone warded the door.’
As you approach, the column starts to shift and change, its centre moulding itself into the figure of a woman. She crosses her arms to her chest, allowing the shadows to wrap about her body,
coating it in tattered folds of smoke and shadow.
Realising that you must destroy this dark spirit before it is at full strength, you raise your weapons and charge forward. As if in response, the woman throws back her head, her open mouth
slowly distending into a yawning chasm of darkness.
‘It’s a banshee,’ gasps Nyms. ‘Don’t let it scream, or we’re done for!’
‘Then let us silence it forever,’ you reply, hurling your magic and steel against this sinister foe. You must fight:
Special abilities
Gathering darkness:* The shadows are slowly merging together to form the banshee. At the end of each combat
round, the banshee’s
health
increases by 8. (Once the banshee is reduced to zero
health
, it can no longer heal.)
Wail of the banshee: Once the banshee’s
health
reaches 100 or more, it will have gained sufficient
strength to issue its call – alerting the mansion to your presence. This will immediately summon guards, who will quickly overwhelm you – losing you the combat.
If you are able to defeat the banshee before it can sound its alarm, turn to
899
.
933
You raise your weapons defensively. ‘Who is it?’ you call, flinching when you hear the sound of Lorcan’s voice coming from your own lips.
Take the staff, fool.
And ringing inside your head.
‘Shut up,’ you growl between clenched teeth.
The figure steps forward out of the shadows. You had already guessed who it was – from the bulky armour and the dented shield. ‘Caeleb . . .’
The cavalier has a mad look about his eyes, his movements sluggish from exhaustion. ‘More Nevarin scum.’ He gives his surroundings a wary once over, his gaze falling on the crumpled
clothes that once belonged to Lorcan.
‘Wait!’ You lower your weapons, realising that he is no longer seeing your own body, but that of the gaunt mage. ‘It’s me, Caeleb. Remember? We fought with Captain
Redguard . . . Nyms . . . Lansbury. This is not my body!’
Caeleb takes another step forward, raising his scarred shield. In the other hand, a mighty broadsword hums with magic, its holy inscriptions glittering with a pale light. ‘You are a demon.
Mathis told me what you did.’ He shakes his head, almost with regret. ‘And you must be stopped.’
‘Did what?’ you insist.
‘The machine. You brought the legion here. Just like you did before . . . when you stole the Nexus.’
You shake your head in dismay. ‘I did nothing to the machine. It was Mathis. He destroyed it – that’s what brought the black guard to the city. He lied to you!’
‘And what is
this
?’ he scowls, waving the point of his sword across your new body. ‘You are a trickster. Your magic is a dark thing . . . evil.’
‘Really?’ You bristle with anger, hands clenching around your weapons. ‘I don’t remember you complaining when I was saving your life – saving everybody’s
life, all those times.’
Caeleb bares his teeth. ‘While you live, there is still a shadow spawn in this city.’
‘And what are planning to do about that?’ you snipe. ‘I do not wish to fight you, Caeleb. You are a friend. A companion. Do not make me . . .’
The cavalier charges, moving with a startling speed. You barely have time to block the warrior’s first blow, his sword scraping against your own. Then his shield cuts in, its metal rim
catching you in the midriff and lifting you off your feet. You flail through the air, smashing through a clay urn and showering the ground with broken pottery.
‘This has to end,’ grunts the warrior, metal rattling as he advances. ‘It ends today.’
You stumble to your feet woozily, aware that your wounds are not healing. A quick glance at your shadow mark confirms that its magic is not responding – its usual radiance reduced to a
dull glow.
