War of the Wizards (7 page)

At the expense of 2
WILLPOWER
points, the Moonstone begins to glow brightly and, as you repeat the words of your necromantic incantation, the radiant whiteness of its aura increases, clothing you and Tanith with luminescence. The toad demon gibbers, slavers, and then retreats with its arms thrown up in front of its disfigured face. The other demons howl in tortured anguish and back away. They linger outside the protective ring of the Moonstone, pacing in front of you, spitting and snarling their frustration.

If you wish to attack at long range with your Wizard's Staff,
turn to 46
.

If you wish to advance on the demons and attempt to engage them in combat,
turn to 105
.

As the evening draws in, the temperature begins to cool. You are tired and thirsty. You have been heading in the direction of Lake Dolani but neither you nor Tanith has ever been to the Lissan Plain before and you are not sure of the lake's exact location. You know only that it lies on the southern side of the plain. You are now unsure that you can reach it by nightfall. Looking to the west, you see a large building of square, tiered stone. It is approximately two miles away.

If you wish to investigate the building,
turn to 297
.

If you prefer to continue,
turn to 234
.

Entranced, the rider trots towards you, hailing you as friend, for your magic controls him completely. When he has come close enough, you grab his leg and drag him from the saddle. So sudden is your action that the warrior is unable to resist. A swift blow to the back of his head knocks him unconscious. Now you can complete your plan. By dressing in the Shadakine uniform, you will be able to lead the demon host towards the Shadakine Army and they will think you one of their number. Quickly you don the uniform. Your Simar steed is exhausted but the Shadakine horse offers the chance of a fresh mount and greater speed. You slap the Simar's haunches and watch it trot away. The beast has served you well, and you offer a silent Shianti blessing that will keep it from harm.

Turn to 250
.

Your vision clears and, as you regain your senses, you see that the warriors are men of the Masbaté, the tribe believed to be extinct after persecution by the Wytch-king, Shasarak. With a flurry of sword blows, the Masbaté hew a bloody path towards you. Though they number less than fifty, their demonic foes seem powerless to resist, so swift and fierce is the attack. The demon horde scatters in all directions. Some dematerialize — magic is inherent in their nature. Those that remain are slain mercilessly.

When at last the battle is done, no living demon remains in the tomb, while, incredibly, the Masbaté have suffered no losses, only a scattering of light wounds. One of their number now stands before you. Like his comrades, the Masbaté warrior stands well over seven feet tall, his body rippling with muscle beneath skin as black as ebony. His hair is long and black and his eyes still burn with the fire of battle. He is clad only in a corselet of worn, padded leather. A scabbard slung low from a broad belt carries a massive broadsword of dull, grey metal. His only protective wear, a pair of metal wristbands, is engraved with the intricately worked design of a rearing horse. He gives you a speculative stare. It is not an altogether friendly gaze.

‘What do we have here?’ he booms, in a strong, yet melodious bass tone. ‘A boy and a girl perhaps? Or demons in human guise, defilers of the sacred tomb of our forefathers. Speak now and swiftly. My blade is thirsty yet to drink the blood of more hellspawn.’

Before you are able to speak, Tanith has risen to her feet, brandishing her dagger and scowling with the characteristic ferocity that you have come to know so well. ‘You know not what you say,’ she snaps, menace in her voice. ‘But for that, this blade of mine would have your life for such insult to one who comes to save your brawny, worthless hide. Soften your tone, tall one, for you speak to a mighty wizard, a master of great powers, the chosen one of the great ancient Shianti. He has come to challenge the Wytch-king himself, who is surely the enemy of us all.’

Despite her slight frame and her puny blade, Tanith confronts the warrior with an icy countenance that would freeze blood. Though he towers over her like a giant, the warrior steps back, mouth agape in astonishment at her fearless outburst. He is stunned into silence. The barely suppressed mirth of the other Masbaté is plain to see.

‘Ho there, Dioka!’ shouts a squat Masbaté, with a bellowing laugh that makes his pot-belly quiver and shake. ‘It's a spitting she-cat that's stolen your tongue I see.’

‘And the cat has claws, bladder belly!’ she snaps. The plump warrior's face drops, while the one named Dioka bursts into laughter. ‘Well met, my lady,’ he guffaws.

With a bemused expression, you rise on shaky feet and turn to Dioka. ‘Greetings, men of the Masbaté,’ you call out in a loud voice, ensuring that all can hear. ‘Plainly we are not agents of evil in mortal guise.’

‘Indeed not,’ Dioka replies with a smile. ‘The very demons of the plain would flee the wrath of your brave companion's acid tongue!’

‘Yet, in her anger she spoke the truth,’ you continue. ‘For I am the Wizard, Grey Star, bound upon a quest in the service of the Shianti and sworn to the destruction of the Wytch-king, Shasarak.’ The vast hall grows silent. Wide-eyed, the Masbaté regard you with stunned expressions.

‘Can this be?’ Dioka gasps, a gleam of hope shining in his dark, deep eyes. ‘We will talk of this at length and in the proper place,’ he continues. ‘You must come with us. It is not wise to remain here. The demons may return and in greater numbers. Most likely they will be led by more formidable masters than this,’ he gestures dismissively towards the corpse of the Demon master that sprawls on the floor a few feet away. ‘The home of the Masbaté now lies in the Kashima Mountains, beyond the River Iss. The king must hear of your return.’

The Masbaté restore the bodies of their ancient dead to their resting places. A funeral pyre for the slain demons is built outside the walls of the tomb, and with considerable effort and over many hours, they are able to repair the stone door. While they work, your wounds are attended to and you and Tanith are given food and water. There is a gifted healer among them and he is able to restore to you 1
ENDURANCE
point. (Amend your
Action Chart
accordingly.) It is late afternoon before the Masbaté are ready to leave. Struggling to keep pace with the rapid march of the warriors, you head into the lengthening shadows, toward the distant mountains: the secret lair of the last of a proud and mighty race.

Turn to 260
.

Suddenly you are in a wide, round hall, full of shadows. At one end of the hall is a flaming wall, and kneeling before the wall is the hunched figure of Shasarak, Wytch-king of Shadaki. His back is turned to you but he spins round the instant you arrive. He is a hideous sight. His flesh is black as if burnt by recent fires and his fingers are like claws. Half his face is missing, and in its place there is a metal plate, which is the only thing that gives shape to a livid mass of shrunken flesh and tissue. One eye is shrivelled, sightless, and shrunken, the other burns into you with hatred so intense that it almost forces you back a step.

Illustration III
—Shasarak's stare burns into you with intense hatred.

The room fills with the sound of savage laughter, but it is not Shasarak who laughs. A familiar, slithering, deathly voice emanates from the wall of fire, and within the fire you see two slanted eyes: pools of absolute darkness. It is the Demonlord Agarash!

‘See, Shasarak. He has come, as I told you he would. He has come to slay you. Won't you accept my bargain?’

‘NEVER!’ Shasarak hisses, his voice like the rush of broken stone scattering on the floor. ‘He does not have the power to master me … as you have not, Demon.’

Shasarak glares at you malevolently and raises a damaged hand. He is about to strike.

If you have 1
WILLPOWER
point and wish to raise the Moonstone against Shasarak,
turn to 21
.

If you wish to defend yourself with the Moonstone,
turn to 92
.

Though you handle the branches of the plant delicately, you cannot avoid disturbing it and many of the pods squirt jets of purple fluid. Fortunately, many miss you. Two of the jets, however, splash your arm. The acid eats quickly through the fabric of your robe and burns into your flesh. You lose 3
ENDURANCE
points. You have managed to take three Phinomel Pods. Because they are so small the three pods count as only one item in your Herb Pouch. If there is not room in your Herb Pouch, you may carry the pods in your Backpack.

Cursing your own clumsiness, you pack away your new find, certain that the pods will prove useful, and resume your search for Lake Dolani.

Turn to 43
.

With the speed of a pouncing tiger, you twist around to face the three that remain. They are almost upon you, but the speed of your reactions and the fierceness of your gaze paralyse the grotesque creatures. With a mighty cry, you hurl yourself at them in a wild blaze of magical fire and slashing blows. At the cost of 1
WILLPOWER
point, your Staff crashes down on the head of the nearest demon. It falls to the ground with a squeal of pain, smoke curling around its purple body that shines like the shell of a giant beetle. It reaches at you with a feeble motion, its crab-like pincer flexing stiffly before it dies. Those that remain flee as fast as their distorted limbs can carry them, wailing in a frenzy of insane fear. You start to pursue, but before you can reach them they have dematerialized. You turn around: the injured toad demon has also disappeared. Panting heavily, you satisfy yourself that Tanith is unharmed before dropping your guard. You fall to your knees, drawing great breaths and leaning heavily on your Staff.

Turn to 201
.

Other dots appear high on the horizon. Approaching at an alarming speed are a multitude of strange and sinister creatures. You count twenty at least. A familiar sound greets your ears: the babbling frenzy of the demon horde close behind you. There is no time to prepare magical spells, nor is there anywhere to hide, and the forest pass must be at least twenty miles away. You feel sure you can outrun the demon horde — but the flying creatures? You have only two choices.

If you wish to attempt a last, desperate dash for the pass, keeping clear of the flying creatures as best you can,
turn to 202
.

If you wish to make a stand against the flying creatures, in the hope of dispatching them before the demon horde reaches you,
turn to 223
.

You come to the top of a small rise. Peering over the edge, you see that the ground slopes away in a long, shallow curve, which rises on every side to form a broad basin. At the centre lies a large lake many miles wide. Feverishly you lick your lips in anticipation of a long, languorous drink of cool water. You start to move down the slope when Tanith catches your arm.

‘Wait!’ she says. ‘I can see something down there.’

You follow the line of her finger. Among the verdant grassland of the depression that surrounds what must be Lake Dolani you can just make out a human form. You edge a few more feet down the slope. With horror you see a large man lying with his arms and legs tied to four wooden stakes driven into the ground. A faint moan drifts on the breeze: he is calling for water. You edge a little closer. The man is almost a giant, measuring at least seven feet tall. His skin is black as ebony and his hair is long and flowing. Suddenly you realize that this is one of the Masbaté, the original inhabitants of the Lissan Plain and a mighty warrior people — till Shasarak defeated them in the Plains War of MS 5008.

You have only known one Masbaté: Samu, a noble and fearless warrior, who accompanied you in your search for the Moonstone. Once, he was king of the Masbaté nomads. He thought himself the only survivor of his people — it was common belief that the Wytch-king had hounded the tribe into extinction, sealing their doom by unleashing a plague of demons. Some say that these demons roam the plains still.

You wonder who has left the poor, tortured man to die in the sun. You step further down the slope intending to free him, but Tanith holds you back, fearing a trap. You cannot see how anyone, even Shasarak himself, could know that you have returned to the lands of the Shadakine Empire after an absence of seven years.

If you have the Magical Power of Prophecy and wish to use it,
turn to 58
.

If you are versed in the Higher Magick of a Visionary and wish to use this Power,
turn to 67
.

If you do not possess either of these Powers, or if you do not wish to use them,
turn to 85
.