Legion of Shadow (44 page)

379

Your mighty blows silence the beast once and for all. The crowd go wild as you raise your arms in the air, in a victory salute. You may now claim one of the following as your
reward:

After the match, Bart hands over your winnings. (You have gained 60 gold crowns.) To face your next opponent, turn to
352
. If you wish to return to
the arena at a later date, make a note of the indicated entry number on your hero sheet.

380

You take Shay’s hand and help her down into the bowl-shaped depression. ‘Look! This is dark age architecture,’ she gasps, hurrying over to the nearest ruined
pillar. Along its length are a number of strange runes and symbols. ‘This must date back to the culling. Yes, these markings here – I think they are Illumanti.’ She shakes her
head sadly. ‘How a people could destroy such beauty.’

381

‘Oh is that so?’ A foot slams into your back, knocking you forward onto your stomach. ‘You are a trespasser!’

You roll over onto your elbows, to see another of the green-skinned females standing over you, a curved knife held in each hand. ‘This one must have seen something,’ she snarls.
‘Let me get the truth out of them – my way!’ From the cold-hearted glare she is giving you, you suspect her method of interrogation is not going to be pleasant.

‘Hold! All of you!’

To your surprise, it is a man’s voice. You turn your head, to see a warrior in forest green leathers emerge from the trees. His long blond hair is braided with feathers and cords, and
about his neck hang a number of beaded charms. ‘Since when do the dryads hunt so openly,’ he scowls, ‘and without judgement or mercy?’ He starts forward into the clearing, a
yellow glow cascading down his arms to gather along the tips of his fingers.

‘Bern Farstrider,’ sneers the knife-woman. ‘This is none of your concern. Stand down or face the consequences.’

From around the circle, there is the creak of bowstrings as the archers nock arrows and take aim at the warrior.

He shakes his head sadly. ‘Has it really come to this – that my return is welcomed with an arrow in the back. Well, so be it.’ Turn to
474
.

382

The portcullis rises and you step out into the arena. The announcer swoops overhead, his flying carpet leaving a trail of glittering stars hanging in the air. ‘And in the
red corner, from the blighted coast of Cretaria, we have a mighty gladiator. His savage race know no pain, no mercy, no forgiveness. Put your hands together folks for Zen the Minorian!’

The portcullis at the opposite end of the arena rattles open. For a moment there is a hushed silence. Then you hear the clatter of hooves as a giant, armoured creature charges out of the tunnel.
It has the upper body of a man and the lower-body of a bull. Wielding a barbed spear, the Minorian dashes towards you, sending muddy water showering in all directions.

You must now fight this deadly adversary:

Special abilities

If you defeat Zen, turn to
216
.

383

You start to pull back your sleeve, to reveal the mark, but the queen recoils, looking fearful for the first time. ‘Please, I do not need to see it. I feel its presence
and it is a dark thing. That is why I would ask that you leave our lands. I will not have the taint of shadow here.’

‘But what is it?’ you implore, anger edging into your voice. ‘I don’t remember anything. I woke with this on my arm – and since then, everyone has judged me, the
moment they see it.’

The queen raises an eyebrow. ‘Yes, unfortunate – or perhaps fortunate that your past has been taken from you. That mark is what all the shadowborn carry. It means that you obey the
legion and would give your life for it. It also grants you many powers, although I imagine these are now forgotten to you.’

It takes several moments for the queen’s words to sink in. ‘Wait – I am to obey the legion. You mean, I am just like those
things
I saw in the city – the monsters
that came through the shadow gate? Are you saying that this mark on my arm . . . makes me a monster?’

The queen looks you straight in the eye. ‘I don’t see a monster standing before me. You saved my life and the dryad grove. You are only a monster, shadow walker, if you choose to
become one.’

To ask the queen another question, turn to
376
. Otherwise turn to
336
.

384

The barman looks busy, scurrying from one end of the bar to the other. When you finally manage to grab his attention, he hurries over, rubbing his hands on his greasy apron.
‘What yer want?’ he asks gruffly.

385

You silence the vampire with a killing blow, watching as the giant man topples backwards, his body exploding into plumes of black ash as he hits the ground.

Baron Greylock has been defeated. You may now take one of the following items:

Eldias is still sparring with his foe, agilely dodging the vampire’s attacks. She makes a hasty lunge, throwing herself off balance. Eldias takes the opportunity to dart over to a broken
table. Ripping one of the wooden legs free, he makes several cutting motions with his sword. A second later, he is holding up a sharp-ended stake. As Lady Roe clambers to her feet, hissing and
spitting like a venomous snake, Eldias throws back his arm and hurls the stake straight through her heart. The vampire’s horrified scream is cut short as she disintegrates into a fine black
dust.

Eldias sheathes his sword and flashes you a cocky smile. ‘Now that, my friend, is how you do it in style.’

You can’t help but marvel at the man’s self-assured skill. He makes killing these deadly foes look like child’s play. It seems you are not the only one to appreciate his
performance.

‘Bravo!’

The sound of clapping forces you to turn. The count is standing amidst the wreckage of his hall, watching you both with dark, hungry eyes. At his side stand two guards, dressed in heavy chain
mail armour.

‘It is time,’ hisses the count, his lips curling back over his fanged teeth, ‘for you to die.’ Turn to
392
.

386

You nervously pace up and down, waiting to be called into the pit. Through the portcullis grill, you can see the wizard zipping around the crowded stalls, performing his
pre-match warm-up. Finally, you hear your name called, and the portcullis rattles open. Taking a deep breath, you walk out into the pit to be greeted by a tumultuous roar from the crowds.

The opposing portcullis lifts open and, for the first time, you glimpse the other fighter. It is a woman, dressed in black leathers. As she steps out into the murky light, you give a gasp of
astonishment. Instead of a human face, the woman has the striped head of a tiger. You notice that she carries no weapons on her person, only vicious claws that protrude from her tiger-like
paws.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, this distinguished fighter needs no introduction. Hailing from the steamy jungles of Terrall, we have the heart of darkness itself . . . the savage, the deadly and
the ever-so-slightly sexy, Shara Khana!’

The crowd cheer and stamp their feet as the woman takes a bow. ‘I am Shara Khana,’ she announces with pride. ‘And no man, woman or beast, has ever bested me in combat.’
She turns to face you, her piercing, lambent eyes filled with a hungry malice. ‘Such a hapless cur. I look forward to feasting on your still-beating heart!’ With astonishing speed, the
tigress springs towards you, her sharp claws fully extended to rip and rend.

It is time to battle your toughest foe yet: