The Heart of Fire (91 page)

596

Intrigued by this strange temple, you make the decision to fight your way to its summit. However, you have barely placed a foot on its lowest step before another jagged stone
comes hurtling through the air, staggering you as it cuts across your chest. It is closely followed by a veritable hailstorm of missiles as the squirrel monkeys pelt you with whatever debris comes
to hand. You cower beneath the onslaught, forced to rely on your armour to soak up the bludgeoning hits.

As you stumble onwards, determined to reach the summit, the black-faced monkeys spring forward to bar your way. Several are clutching fan-shaped leaves which appear to have been stiffened by
some type of resin, turning them into sharp knives. Their leader, scarred and battle-worn, throws up his arms, baring his teeth in a fanged snarl. You sense this is a signal of some kind – as
there is a sudden halt in the stone rain as the squirrel monkeys scamper higher up the stairs. Then, with a blood-chilling howl, the langurs press their attack, their leaf daggers cutting ribbons
from the mist. It is time to fight:

Special abilities

In this combat you roll against the langurs’ speed. If you win a combat round, you can choose to apply your damage to the langurs or the squirrel monkeys. If you defeat
the langurs, any remaining squirrel monkeys will automatically flee, winning you the combat.

(
NOTE
: You cannot heal after this combat. You must continue this challenge with the
health
that you have remaining. You may use potions and
abilities to heal lost
health
while you are in combat.)

If you manage to defeat the first wave of defenders, turn to
687
. Otherwise, you have failed to assault the temple. Restore your
health
and turn to
449
.

597

You hurry into the tent, wondering if there might be vital supplies here that you could use. However, as your hand reaches out to pick up one of the bottles a whip cracks
around your wrist, jerking you backwards.

‘Look but don’t touch, honey.’

A woman is standing at the mouth of the tent, her tanned skin covered in snake tattoos. She flicks her wrist, dextrously releasing the whip. You see that it is made from strips of bark, wound
tight around a leather grip. ‘Hmm, you’re a little bald for a tigris.’

Before you can retort, the whip cracks again. You sidestep quickly, the edge of one strip nicking blood from your cheek.

‘Still, that’s a nice skin you’re wearing, little cub,’ she grins, looking you up and down. ‘Mind if I take a piece, just as a memento, hmm?’ The whip cracks
again, accompanied by the woman’s mocking laughter. You must now fight:

Special abilities

(
NOTE
: You cannot heal after this combat. You must continue this quest with the
health
that you have remaining. You may use potions and abilities
to heal lost
health
while you are in combat.)

If you manage to defeat this whip-cracking fiend, turn to
720
. Otherwise, turn to
664
.

598

You withdraw your weapons, watching as thick welts of blood soak through the archer’s tunic, staining it a deeper shade of red. A soft whimpering comes from her lips,
then she slides to the ground, her accusing stare forever frozen in death.

You kneel beside the woman’s corpse, your eyes flicking to the wedding band glittering around her neck. Whatever demon of rage had finally consumed Joss, you pray that she can now find
peace.

You may now help yourself to one of the following special rewards:

If you are a rogue, turn to
846
. Otherwise, turn to
855
.

599

You slip past the door to emerge in a small cobwebbed chamber. A gold sarcophagus rests open on a stone bed, its top piece overturned and lying on the ground. It is surrounded
by the skeletal remains of adventurers and tomb robbers.

Inside the sarcophagus lies a linen-wrapped corpse, with runic stones sewn into the cloth. As soon as you enter, gagging on the rotting air, the corpse jerks into life, its hands scrabbling to
find purchase on the sides of its coffin. Then, with a choking gasp, the corpse starts to rise, its head snapping around to glare at you between its mouldy bandages.

‘Trespasser!’ it wheezes. ‘You defile the hall of sacrifices!’

The runes flare with magic, surrounding the mummified corpse in a flickering cloud of dark light. Too late, you realise you have awoken a lich – a powerful undead mage. You quickly draw
your weapons, determined not to become the next skeleton to adorn its tomb. It is time to fight: