Legion of Shadow (72 page)

If you defeat Budak, turn to
740
. If you are defeated, turn to
732
.

602

The remaining swarm wheels away to attack another area of the camp. You hurry onwards, relieved to see that the magic shield is now intact once again. Nevertheless, the camp is
still being overrun by the elements of the legion that made it through.

Explosions are ringing out to either side of you as the defending mages let loose barrage after barrage at the legion. You catch up with Ravenwing, who is barking orders to his men as a wave of
black-clothed assassins charge through the camp, swords glowing with shadowy magic.

‘Stalkers!’ shouts Ravenwing. ‘Fight them with a mage!’ He catches sight of you and, for a moment, a grim smile plays across his lips. ‘They heal.’

Then the forces clash, swords and magic forming a whirlwind of ringing steel and flaring energy. Ravenwing dispatches one of the stalkers, its body turning into wisps of purple light. A second
later and the shadowy energy ignites in a ball of bright flame. A red-robed mage runs past you, his hands flickering with fiery light. ‘Don’t let them heal!’ he cries.
‘Destroy their energy. Focus, mages!’

You are drawn to the left flank where some of Redguard’s men are fighting a small band of shadowstalkers. Nearby, one of the assassins has a hand raised to the air, his long fingers
covered in black markings. He is attempting to absorb the energy from one of his defeated comrades to heal his wounds. Turn to
741
.

603

You make your way through the jumble of stones and metal, at times having to squeeze through small gaps or lower yourself carefully down high walls of stone. At last, exhausted
from your trek through this crude passageway, you come to another blast hole, leading through into a large square room.

Unlike the other chambers, that have all been cold stone and statues, this one is cluttered with furniture and objects. As you look around, you see that most of the items are salvaged junk that
has been turned to other uses. A huge ship’s wheel is now resting on its side, covered with planks of wood to form a table. Elsewhere, a mast and several tattered tapestries have been shown
together to form a canvas-style awning, stretched over a pallet bed. Next to it, a giant oyster shell has been cleaned and used as a chest for clothing. The rest of the room is littered with mounds
of junk, from old boots to barnacle-encrusted anchors.

A metallic clink forces you to turn. In the corner of the room, an old man with a long, green beard, is glaring at you intently from beneath his bushy brows. In his hands, which you notice are
webbed like a frog’s, he holds a rusty-looking trident.

‘What yer want here?’ he growls, stepping towards you warily. ‘I ain’t meaning you no harm, but don’t wants you thinking this old merman is an easy push
over.’

604

You slide an arm underneath the man’s shoulder, helping him to his feet. He gives a cry of pain, his hands moving to his side where blood soaks through his blue robes.
When he catches your worried expression, he gives a ragged gasp. ‘I saw this end for me. The assassin’s blade was coated with poison. It is just a matter of time now . . .’

You start to ask a question but the man waves you to silence, his concentration focused on the stone archway. Muttering under his breath, the old man makes a series of motions with his fingers.
There is an answering glow from the runes that have now appeared in the white stone. The old man nods with satisfaction, before making another series of gestures. You can see that each one brings
pain to the wounded man, but he is clearly determined to finish his ritual.

Finally, he slumps into your arms exhausted, as a sparkling golden light appears beneath the archway, spreading out to form a glowing doorway. ‘It is done,’ he gasps. ‘You must
go through the portal. It will take you to the bone fields outside of Talanost. There you will find Captain Redguard.’ He takes a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. ‘I have seen
it all – the fall of Avian Dale, the march of the legion, the destruction . . . I have seen a most dark future. But it can be changed. Yes, now it makes sense . . . you are the one who has
been chosen . . .’ He breaks off into a fit of coughing.

You lower him gently to the steps of the dais. ‘What must I do?’ you ask intently.

The man closes his eyes and when next he speaks, his voice is little more than a whisper. You lean in close, hanging on his every word. Turn to
566
.

605

Nyms and Caeleb set a gruelling pace, sprinting at full pelt across the hills and valleys. You do your best to keep up, your eyes focused intently on the ground. The bones and
rocks are proving treacherous, threatening at any second to twist an ankle or trap a leg.

Then your attention shifts to the sky, as it is lit up by another flare of yellow light. Nyms immediately changes course, swerving to the right.

‘Over here!’ he shouts back.

You follow him down into a steep-sided gorge. In the walls to either side, you can see doorways cut into the grey earth. Some are blocked by tablets of stone, others are open, revealing nothing
but impenetrable darkness.

Up ahead, you see a woman racing towards you. From the green tabard she is wearing over her shirt of chain mail, you assume this must be Redguard’s ranger. She has a short bow clutched in
one hand, with a quarrel of arrows bouncing at her hip.

‘Janna!’ shouts Nyms, waving to her. ‘Are you all right?’

The ranger is out of breath when she reaches you, her skin and hair caked in grey dust. ‘I saw them . . . I saw them,’ she gasps.

From above, there is a deafening shriek. Looking up, you see four monstrous creatures sweeping down from the sky. They look like giant birds, save that they have no skin or feathers –
their bodies are simply bone and sinew.

‘Bone wyverns,’ growls Caeleb, drawing his sword and raising his shield.

‘Yeah, and they’re not our only problem,’ adds Nyms, his own swords leaping into his hands.

Each of the bone wyverns is carrying something in their claws. As they pass above you, they let go of their packages. The four of you scatter, as the ‘things’ thump to the ground.
For a moment, they look like piles of bones. Then suddenly they start to animate – the bones sliding and cracking into place to form giant, humanoid creatures with bony claws and horned
skulls.

‘Bone constructs!’ yells Nyms.

‘Heads up!’ orders Janna, nocking an arrow to her bow. Her eyes are following the path of the wyverns, who are already sweeping back to join the attack. Turn to
612
.

606

If you have a
borehole charge
in your backpack then now might be the time to use it. You can choose to plant it on the statue, the throne or one of the walls of the
chamber. Make a note of which option you have chosen before going to grab the crown. Turn to
614
. If you don’t have a
borehole charge
then you will have to
grab the crown and run. Turn to
554
.

607

As you enter the tent, your eyes become fixed on the floating map of the bone fields. Everything on it has been picked out in the minutest detail, from the hills and valleys to
the sprawling city of Talanost to the south.

Redguard is observing the map with a furrowed brow. ‘Things could go ill for us, if what you say is true,’ he grumbles.

You walk around the map, following the line of a road that leads through the bone fields to the walls of the city. There, arranged in a loose circle, is an army encampment. You can even see the
banners atop the tents, fluttering in an unseen wind.

‘That is Ravenwing’s camp,’ explains Redguard. ‘The last of the city defenders are holed up there with the mages. They’re trying to hold out until the king’s
army arrives from the east. It could be four days or more before that force comes within sight of the walls – until then, we’re on our own.’

You lean closer over the map, noticing a faint dome of light glittering above the ruined city. ‘What is that?’ you ask, puzzled. ‘It looks like some kind of shield.’

‘It is,’ nods Redguard. ‘The mages in the camp have created it. It’s a barrier that keeps the legion trapped and contained within the city. I don’t know how much
longer they can hold it though.’

As your eyes trace the rest of the map, they come to rest on two statues, standing atop jagged hills of rock. A closer inspection reveals that they are angels, with flowing robes and swan-like
wings. ‘The angels must awaken,’ you mutter to yourself.

Redguard looks up. ‘What was that?’

‘Something Jenlar told me before he died. He said the angels must awaken. What do you think that means?’

The captain cups his chin, looking perplexed. ‘They’re just statues I thought; some kind of marker left over from the war. Not investigated them myself, but I’ll see what
Lansbury knows. She always has her nose in a book.’

608

The passageway opens out into a square chamber. The air is stale and heavy with the reek of damp earth. Within moments, Janna has lit a set of torches, resting in sconces on the
walls. As the chamber fills with a warm, golden glow, your eyes come to rest on the large stone tomb at its centre. Etched onto its lid is the figure of a helmed knight, with sword and shield
resting on his chest.

‘What a wonderful plan,’ growls Nyms, who is pacing up and down like a caged lion. ‘Now, we’re trapped. There is no way out of here.’

Janna gives him a narrowed look. ‘Sorry, I missed the part where you were full of ideas, Nyms.’

‘Guys! Guys! Come here.’

It is Caeleb, who has stopped to study a mural, which covers the entire length of one of the walls. It is a masterpiece of artwork, depicting a battalion of mounted knights, charging across a
battlefield in wedge-shaped formation. Facing them is a chaotic-looking mass of shadowy creatures, more teeth and claw than anything else.

‘The Legion of Shadow,’ gasps Janna, observing the grisly detail.

‘Who are the knights?’ asks Nyms, his brow furrowed.

‘The Tor Knights,’ states Caeleb, his voice filled with wonder. ‘They fought in the last battle against the shadow. That’s Arthurian, the king’s son.’ He
points to the armoured knight, leading the charge. ‘They were slain in that battle, to the very last man. They gave their lives to hold off the legion, buying time for his father’s
reinforcements to arrive.’

‘Is this a Tor Knight, then?’ you ask, glancing back to the tomb.

Caeleb nods reverently. ‘Arthurian and the knights were all buried here, in the bone fields.’

‘Enough of the guided tour,’ interjects Nyms. ‘We’ve got company.’

Back down the tunnel, you can see the ghouls clawing and tearing at the wall of thorns. It won’t be long before they are through and into the tomb. Turn to
630
.

609

Suddenly, from out of the portal, four tentacles of dark light streak outwards, wrapping themselves around Avian and yanking him back off his feet. The mage snarls with rage as
he struggles to free himself, but the tentacles have his arms pinned to his sides, his magic sparking uselessly in the palms of his hands.

Then, in another dizzying blur of motion, the tentacles draw back into the portal, taking Avian with them.

‘No!’

Frantically, you climb back up through the innards of the machine, your way quickly becoming an infuriating maze of pipes and steam. At last you reach the gantry and pull yourself up onto the
bridge. Sprinting to the podium, you falter as you approach the black floating scar. This, you realise, is the shadow gate – the portal that will take you back to your home-world . . .

‘Home . . .’ You clench your teeth and step into the portal. For a moment you are blinded by a white light. Then, all of a sudden, you feel yourself being dragged forward, your
stomach left somewhere far behind. Turn to
638
.

610

The vaulted chamber is waist-deep in water, which spills from cracks in the walls and ceiling. Opposite you is a doorway leading through into a flooded passageway. To your
right, a ladder of woven kelp hangs down from a rock shelf jutting out of the wall.

611

‘Your swords are an extension of your thoughts,’ explains Nyms, his twin blades blurring into ribbons of grey as he dances about the circle. ‘Once you
understand that, your physical movements will flow from form to form.’ He pivots and spirals, performing a deadly whirlwind of strikes and cuts – his weapons moving with a life and
energy of their own.

You try your best to follow his example, finding that meditative state where you and the swords are one, acting in perfect unison.

The swordmaster has the following abilities:

Swift strikes (pa)
: (requires a sword in the main and left hand) For each
that you roll for your attack
speed, you can inflict damage to
any
opponent, equal to the
speed
of your fastest weapon (either main or left hand). This ability ignores
armour.