The Heart of Fire (5 page)
Time blurs
.
You stumble onwards, your feet dragging through the loose rock and dirt. A sudden movement forces you to turn. The inquisitor. Somehow, you already know how this encounter will end. His first
swing goes wide, but the second blow you dodge, letting it slam into the wall, jarring the blade from the warrior’s grasp. With a strength born from fear you kick back at your opponent,
sending him tumbling back into the cell. His head thumps against a rock, drawing a muffled grunt. Then silence . . .
Quickly, you reach down and grab the inquisitor’s sword:
Knight’s folly
(main hand: sword)
+1 brawn +1 magic
As you continue down the passage, you find yourself pondering this sudden twist of fate. The inquisitor’s blow had been fatal. You had seen it; felt it crush your ribs and pierce your
lungs. But it had all been a vision – a glimpse of a possible future. As you gaze upon the sword, its magnificent blade glowing with holy scripture, you feel a newfound energy surging through
you. Perhaps some of the Elysium is still in your bloodstream, heightening the strange powers that you have had from birth – the ability to see the future.
You have gained the following combat ability:
Prophecy (co)
: Use this ability when you have lost a combat round, to avoid taking damage from your opponent. You can only use this ability once per combat.
A set of stairs take you up into a torch-lined corridor. Your surroundings have become more opulent, with lines of fine tapestries covering the stone walls. The only sign that something is awry
are the dusty footprints that track back and forth along the plush red carpet.
You find a side chamber, with several chests and bags resting at the foot of a bed. Aware that you are dressed in little more than a ragged gown, you quickly duck into the room and begin
rummaging through its contents.
You find a backpack, 30 gold crowns and the following items, which you may take:
Plumed helm | Saddle blanket | Rider’s jerkin |
(head) | (cloak) | (chest) |
+1 armour | +1 armour | +1 speed |
Another corridor brings you out into a wide, vaulted hall. Its central pillars are carved into figures of warriors – both male and female – resplendent in decorative plate armour.
They provide useful cover as a tight knot of inquisitors rush past, their armaments clattering noisily in the echoing chamber.
You break from cover, moving quickly towards the bright band of daylight seeping between a pair of arched doors. Several bodies lie amongst the shadows to either side, green-fletched arrows
protruding from their chests. Without stopping, you slip through the doors and out to freedom.
The glare is almost blinding; the light of the pale sun reflected off the glistening snow. As you crest a hill, you look back at the place that once held you prisoner – a
vast cathedral carved out of a spire of black rock. Durnhollow: the dungeon of the inquisition. You spit into the snow, before turning and heading down the wooded mountainside, into the valley
below.
A narrow trail brings you to a well-worn track, carving its way through rolling hills. As you join the track, you see a procession approaching from the east; a group of dusty travellers, with
carts and wagons piled high with belongings.
You wonder if they are fleeing some disaster, but as they near you see that several of the travellers are bedecked with garlands and crucifixes. Pilgrims, you suspect. You nod to one of the men,
who is carrying a young girl on his shoulders. He smiles, then points ahead along the track.
‘Look Aimee, we made it. That’s Carvel, up there on the hill. We’re following the path of the saints, just like I said we would.’ He looks your way, offering you a grin.
‘Are you headed our way, pilgrim? Come to pay your respects?’
You follow the child’s gaze, towards a walled town perched on a plateau of rock. It promises you a new start; a safe haven from the prying eyes of the inquisition.
‘Yes. Yes, I am.’ You clasp the man’s hand in welcome, before joining the procession.
‘I’m Bernard. This is Aimee.’ The girl giggles and waves. ‘I’d say we made good timing; looks like this weather’s gonna hold after all.’ He frowns up at
the heavy white sky. ‘At least ’til we see the warmth of a tavern, eh?’
You peer sideways at him, offering a grin. ‘I very much doubt that.’ A moment later rain begins to fall, spattering off your helm and cloak. You raise your eyebrows. ‘Told you
so.’
Bernard gives a snort of laughter. ‘What’s this, we got our very own prophet?’ He pats the legs of his little girl. ‘See, Aimee. We come to the holy lands and find
ourselves a prophet, just like the great Saint Allam. It’s got to be a sign – a sign that our luck’s changing.’ He gives you a sly wink. ‘What do you say,
prophet?’
You keep your eyes set ahead, your hand gripping the pommel of your sword. For as long as you can remember, you have been hunted – running from town and village, with nowhere to call home.
Will Carvel be any different?
‘Tell me, Bernard. Do you believe that the future can really be foretold?’ You glance up at the darkening skies. They promise a storm.
The traveller lowers his little girl to the track, helping her to fix her hood. ‘I say it’s up to the One God to decide our fate. None of our business is it, the future? Not unless
you’re a saint, like Allam.’
You nod, eyeing your reflection in the fast-forming puddles. A gaunt, pale figure; a stranger you barely recognise. ‘Yeah, none of our business.’ Your boot splashes down into the
muddy water, obliterating the face staring back.
Your attention shifts to the welcoming lights of Carvel, blinking on the horizon. For now, you are happy to put thoughts of demons and dark mountains from your mind. The only future you want to
see is a hot meal and a warm bed. ‘Come,’ you look to Bernard, gesturing towards the town. ‘That tavern of yours is sounding like a very good idea.’
Turn to the first map to begin ACT 1 of your adventure. Choose where you want to visit by turning to the entry number displayed next to the shield. As a novice adventurer you
may want to explore the town of Carvel (turn to
8
) before embarking on one of the green quests. Good luck!
Act One: Fenstone Moors
Act Two: Terral Jungle
Act Three: Tartarus
1
You hand settles around something soft and velvety, clinking with coin. Excitedly, you withdraw your hand to find that you have discovered a purse of gold! (You have gained 10
gold crowns.) Suddenly you hear a grumbling, creaking sound coming from the tree. Stepping away, you see that the other holes have now closed up, locking away their treasures.
You may now try and climb the tree (turn to
96
) or leave via the magic portal (turn to
46
).
2
With your foe defeated you are free to examine the floating junk at your leisure. Amongst the trash you find an expensive-looking silver casket. Fishing it out of the muck, you
open it up to find 30 gold crowns and a
black iron key
inside. (If you take the key, simply make a note of it on your hero sheet, it doesn’t take up backpack space.) After pocketing
your items, you wade through the stinking water towards the iron door. Turn to
409
.
3
‘I see you favour the magic arts,’ nods Lazlo, glancing down at his charred clothing. ‘My tailor will be less than impressed . . . but I do know someone who
would find your talents more to their liking.’