Legion of Shadow (115 page)

Lansbury rolls her eyes, as if in agreement.

‘Look, I didn’t find any rotten, old books, if that’s what you’re wondering,’ you add tersely, glaring at the medic. ‘I got . . . distracted.’

‘So we see!’ Lansbury grabs hold of your arm and lifts it closer to her face. The purple sigils are still glowing with a purple light, although their fierce heat has now
subsided.

‘Do not give in to this,’ she whispers, her eyes meeting your own. ‘It is a dark thing. It is not what you are.’

‘Then what am I?’ you ask intently.

The medic looks about to answer, but then her resolve falters . . . she shakes her head instead. ‘Come, let us return to the camp before we are missed.’ She slides her arm through
your own and together you wander back towards the track, Nyms following at your side. Return to the
map
to continue your adventure.

880

You hammer against the creature’s warded flesh, striking faster than its magic can heal. Finally, the beast crashes to the ground, its thick black blood pooling around
your boots.

‘Glad to see you’re back on form,’ grins Nyms, sheathing his blades.

You give him a sideways glance, aware that your shadow mark is still pulsing with its stolen energy. ‘I had a little help from a friend.’

Lansbury lays her hands on Caeleb’s chest, uttering words of holy magic. A soft white glow spreads out from her palms, pooling across his broken armour and knitting together the wounds
beneath.

‘Thank you,’ he grunts, pushing himself back to his feet. He walks over to his shield and lifts it up. ‘Not much use now,’ he grimaces, turning the twisted metal around
in his hands. ‘What was that devilish thing anyway?’

You look down at the defeated shadow creature. If you wish, you may now help yourself to the following item:

You follow the others past the smashed flagstones at the centre of the room, making for the rune-bordered archway in the far wall.

Lansbury notices that you are prodding at your face, your expression dark.

‘What troubles you, Nevarin?’

You glance her way. ‘The Nevarin are shape-shifters – they can assume different bodies. What could . . .’ You pause, struggling to find the words. ‘How do I know that
this face, this body . . . is even me?’

The medic stares at you, deep in thought. ‘The truth is, you can’t.’

A shiver runs up your spine. ‘But how is it even possible – to assume the shape of another?’

Lansbury chews her bottom lip, pondering the question. ‘Hmm, some magic you have forgotten, I think. Perhaps you share a common bond, a shared conscience, with the others of your kind . .
. through the mark.’

The thought sickens you, bringing bile to the back of your throat. ‘I do not wish to share anything with their kind.’

Lansbury is silent, her attention shifting back to the decorative arch. You see that its keystone and several of the surrounding stones are smashed, disfiguring their runes.

‘When in doubt, take the direct approach,’ mutters Nyms, kicking at the loose rubble covering the floor. ‘Is there anything they don’t try and break?’

Caeleb has moved ahead and is now peering through the archway into the chamber beyond. He looks back over his shoulder, motioning your party to prepare for combat. Turn to
790
.

881

‘Craving more magic, eh?’ The trader gives a low whistle. ‘Well, I reckon these are just what you need.’ He reaches inside the chest and produces three
items, which he lays carefully before you. ‘Now, magic like this,’ he catches your eye, his mouth twisting into a smile, ‘could win you a war. Tell me, how can anyone put a price
on that?’ He rubs his jaw thoughtfully. ‘It pains me . . . but, 900 gold crowns? Yes, that’s a fair price. Risked my life for those little beauties.’

You may purchase any of the following items for 900 gold crowns each:

After you have made your purchases, you can ask to see Waldo’s special deals (turn to
914
) or bid the trader farewell (turn to
789
).

882

Searching the general’s armour, you find a leather pouch containing 150 gold crowns. You may also help yourself to one of the following special rewards:

When you have made your decision, turn to
824
.

883

You pass around the back of the domed building, hoping to find an alternative entrance to Arthurian’s tomb. However, as you gaze upon the wide expanse of mildewed stone,
your hopes are dashed.

‘Nice idea,’ groans Nyms, pushing against a section of the wall. ‘Were you hoping to find a secret door, Lans?’

You glance over your shoulder, waiting for the medic’s retort. To your surprise to find that Lansbury isn’t there.

‘Over here!’

Your attention is drawn to a wedge-shaped mound of dirt, set away from the building. Lank yellow reeds and tangled thorns cover much of its surface. Lansbury is standing next to it, her staff
pointed to a section of the mound.

‘What have you found?’ grumbles Nyms, walking over. ‘A new herb for your collection?’

When you join the medic, you give a snort of surprise when you see the secret entrance that she has discovered. It is a slab of dark grey stone, set into the earth. Someone or something has
pushed it inwards, revealing an ash-clogged set of stairs, leading down into darkness.

‘A back entrance,’ grins Lansbury. ‘You just need to have faith.’

The medic utters a quick word of magic, summoning a brilliant white light to the tip of her staff. ‘Care to join me?’

With a smug smile, the medic starts down the stairs. Nyms draws his swords and gives you an uneasy frown. ‘I’ve a bad feeling about this.’

‘That’s not like you,’ chuckles Caeleb, pushing him forwards into the earthen tunnel. ‘Need me to hold your hand?’

Nyms gives Caeleb a playful shove as they head down the stairs.

You pause, your eyes shifting to your shadow mark, which has started to tingle beneath your skin. Not a good sign, you realise grimly.

Readying your own weapons, you follow the others into the secret passage, grateful – at least – to be finally out of the incessant rain. Turn to
844
.

884

The inquisitor flings his shield away, then turns on you in a zealous rage. ‘This changes nothing between us, shadow spawn,’ he spits. You hear the creak of leather
as his hands tighten around his mighty war-hammer. For a second, the rest of the battle is forgotten as you stare each other down, tensed . . . ready to fight.

Then a voice cuts through the tension. It is Avian Dale. He circles past on a magic carpet, a trail of glittering light streaming behind him. ‘We’re heading for the doom orb,’
he shouts. ‘Are you with us?’ Across the other side of the square, the airborne regulars have now gathered in tight formation, their glowing carpets streaking skywards, towards the
gigantic sphere. Avian sweeps in closer, offering out his hand. ‘If your magic is strong, I could use your aid, apprentice.’

If you have a
magic
score of 24 or above, you may accompany Avian Dale. (Turn to
921
.) Otherwise, you decline, wishing to focus your efforts on the ground battle. (Turn to
905
.)

885

For several moments, you struggle to comprehend what you are witnessing. You had been sure that the city had been cleared – that every last shadow spawn had been
destroyed. But here, crammed into the market square, is a veritable horde of the vile creatures. And they look different – more powerful and demonic than any of the creatures you have
encountered already.

Through the chaotic mass of black bodies, you see beacons of hope – your companions struggling against the endless tide. To your left, Lansbury is pinned against a wall, with Nyms lying at
her feet. His hands are pressed to the side of his chest, his expression pained. The healer has summoned a shield of holy light to protect them – but it is being battered down by the
creatures that surround her. They look like rotting undead, with parasitic growths sprouting from their decaying bandages. With her efforts focused solely on maintaining the shield, Lansbury is
unable to heal Nyms’ wounds.

To your right, Avian stands alone, encircled by a sizeable mound of blackened bodies. Overwhelmed by shadow spawn, he has now resorted to a similar magic shield, its green glow enfolding him in
a protective dome. All around it, scorpion-like monsters are besieging the magic, spitting venom against its walls, and hammering at it with their barbed tails.

From the centre of the square, a white signal flare whizzes up into the dark skies, where it bursts into glittering shards of bright light. Following its trail, you see Mathis standing on the
platform of a ruined statue. On all sides, shadowy ghouls are attempting to overwhelm his position, their sharp claws promising a painful end. The inquisitor is beating back their efforts with his
warhammer, while using a filched shield to deflect incoming bolts of magic from the far side of the square. There, rising above the undulating tide of shadow spawn, is a black-armoured knight. They
sit astride a giant four-legged beast, its black hide covered in thick plates of metal. In the knight’s hands is a longbow fashioned from bone, which they are using to send a constant stream
of magic towards the beleaguered inquisitor.

You must decide which of your companions you will aid.

886

The room is a lot smaller than you had expected for such a grand entrance, however, what it contains more than makes up for any shortcomings. The entire space is filled with a
dazzling array of treasures – goblets, caskets, statues, jewellery – its glittering radiance reflected a hundred-fold in the polished armour, arranged in racks along the walls.

You are left speechless, your eyes roving from one treasure to the next. Arthurian, on the other hand, appears less daunted by the impressive spectacle. He strides into the room, looking around
intently.

‘It must be here!’ he snaps. He kicks over a statue in his haste to reach a velvet bag. Lifting it up, he spills the contents onto the floor. You watch mesmerised as a stream of
golden coins and fist-sized jewels rain across the floor. Snarling, he throws the empty bag aside, his eyes searching the room. Next, he marches over to a trunk, pulling out clothes and hurling
them aside. He lifts up the empty box and turns it over, shaking it angrily.