Legion of Shadow (23 page)

If you are successful, turn to
183
. If you fail, turn to
186
.

199

The hobgoblin falls backwards onto the bed, its dark blood soaking through the patchwork blanket. You may now take one of the following items:

You search the rest of the cottage, but find little of interest – except for some grey hairs, sizzling on the coals in the fireplace. You assume that is all that is left
of poor Grandma. Leaving the cottage, you follow the trail back into the woods.

200

You take a handful of gold crowns from your purse and place them on the tabletop. Martha looks at the gold and gives a tiny gasp. ‘No, please! No – I
can’t.’ She pushes the coins towards you. ‘I can’t accept it. I’m sorry.’

You quickly explain to Martha that her children desperately need food. With the money she can buy a couple of chickens and some much-needed provisions from the village. Martha begins to argue,
but stops when she catches the wide-eyed stares of her hungry, half-starved children.

‘I suppose . . . I could, just this once.’ She scoops up the coins into her flour-smeared hands. ‘I’ll take it for the children. For them.’ She gives you a smile.
‘Thank you. I will remember your kindness.’

Deduct 10 gold crowns from your hero sheet and then turn to
78
.

201

You enter the room, gagging as an acrid stench fills your nostrils. It takes only a few seconds to discern the cause – looking down, you see that the floor of the room is
covered in a thick layer of rat droppings.

You draw your weapon and advance, picking your way with care between the broken furnishings that litter the dark space. To your right, a dirt-stained mattress rests on its side, covering the
window and the room’s only source of light. You pause, letting your eyes grow accustomed to the murky gloom. It is then that you see the man watching you from the shadows. He is sat on a
plush, velvet chair, a long sword resting across his knees. His narrow eyes glitter in the dark.

‘I see yer made it this far, stranger,’ he drawls, his long fingers drumming against the arms of the chair. ‘I do hopes the family didn’t give yer too much trouble. Nice
folk really, once yer get to knows them. They were so grateful that I let ’em move in. Even me rats seemed to like ’em – and that’s rare for rats.’ The man snatches
his sword and jumps to his feet. ‘There ain’t much for common folk to live on around ’ere. A few tasty farmers and the odd traveller ain’t much now is it?’ He advances
towards you, his lips curling back to reveal razor-sharp teeth. ‘Yer will excuse me if I don’t say grace, but I prefers to just tuck right in . . .’ With a snarl, he leaps towards
you.

You have no choice but to fight:

* Once you have lowered the leader’s
health
to 12 or less, turn to
233
.

202

For what seems like an age, you are lowered deeper and deeper into the well. At last, your flickering torchlight illuminates what appears to be the bottom of the shaft. You step
out of the bucket, your boots sinking into the wet, soggy mud.

It is immediately apparent what has caused the well to dry up. One of the walls has crumbled inwards, revealing an earthen tunnel stretching away into darkness. With one hand resting on your
weapon, you edge past the rubble and enter the tunnel.

After several yards, you come across a body lying against the tunnel wall. As you step closer, you realise that it must be the priest’s son – or what is left of him. His body is
covered in a glistening white slime, which has eaten through most of his leather clothing, exposing charred skin and bone.

You notice traces of the same glistening acid on the smooth tunnel walls. Curious as to what could have made the tunnel, you follow it deeper into the musty, dark earth. Soon, you arrive at a
junction.

203

You draw your weapon and advance. The man appears startled by your response. ‘You look like no common thief or brigand,’ he says. ‘State your business
here!’ He nods his head towards the rabbit, cooking on the spit. ‘There is food here for two, if you care to lay down your arms.’

204

Your weapon cleaves through the creature’s straw body with ease. As it falls to the ground, still jerking and shaking, you notice something around the creature’s
neck. It looks like a necklace fashioned from human finger bones. You cut the necklace loose. As you do so, the creature immediately stiffens and becomes lifeless.

You may now choose one of the following rewards:

With the scarecrow dead, you eye your surroundings, hoping that the strange mist will finally lift. However, the fog only seems to have thickened, reducing your vision still further. With little
choice but to continue, you start across the field once again, your numb fingers almost frozen to your weapon.

After several minutes, you see a flickering green light ahead. You hurry towards it – the light shining like a beacon through the swirling banks of fog. As you near, you hear the cackle of
ghostly voices from somewhere in the mist.

Entering an area of flattened corn, you soon discover the source of the light. A grim totem has been pushed deep into the frozen earth. Fashioned from dark wood and bone, its length crackles
with a magical green light. This must be the source of the witch’s curse. Turn to
65
.

205

You are at a stalemate. To proceed further with the game you must put more money on the table. Decide how much gold you will add – and the gambler automatically adds the
same amount. You must bet at least one extra gold crown. (If you have no more money, then you have lost and lose all your gold. Turn to
11
.) Then roll a die. If the result
is
or less turn to
259
, if the result is
turn to
67
.

206

Behind a clump of glowing fungi you discover the skeleton of an adventurer, his clothes coated in sticky strands of webbing. Searching the body you find 20 gold crowns and may
take any/all of the following items:

You leave the cave, taking the passageway to the north. Turn to
225
.

207

You step through the glowing doorway, to find yourself in a long pillared hall. Torches flicker in sconces along the wall, casting dancing shadows across the cracked, stone
tiles. There is the musty smell of earth here – and things long dead. At the end of the hall stands a dark figure, shrouded in a ghostly fog.

‘So, you dare challenge me!’ booms the now familiar voice. The veil of fog lifts briefly, to reveal a rugged warrior clad in fur and leather. ‘Puny maggot! You come looking for
this worthless fool?’ The warrior’s narrowed eyes flick to a body lying sprawled beside one of the pillars – a pot-bellied man, dressed in fine-looking robes. At first you assume
he is dead, but then you notice that the man’s chest is rising and falling with shallow breaths. He is still alive . . . for now.

‘I will not waste my time with his kind,’ growls the mist-cloaked warrior, his booming voice echoing in the vaulted chamber. ‘I am Noldor. The First King. These are my hallowed
halls and only death is welcome here.’ The ghost strides down the hall towards you. As he nears, you see a black sword materialising in one of his gloved fists. With maddened laughter, the
spectral warrior raises his black blade and charges. ‘I am Noldor and I will carve my name on your soul!’