The Plague Lords of Ruel (5 page)

Quickly you crouch down and take cover beside the staircase, hidden from view by the shadows and your Kai camouflage skills. Within seconds the Vazhag appear, but they are not alone. They are being led by a frog-like Tzarg which they have tethered on a chain. The Tzarg has its face pressed close to the steps and it is snuffling and snorting like a bloodhound as it tries to locate your scent.

If you possess Grand Mastery of Assimilance,
turn to 154
.

If you possess Animal Mastery and wish to use it,
turn to 207
.

If you have neither of these Grand Master Disciplines,
turn to 36
.

Trusting to your Magnakai skill of Invisibility, you leave your hiding place and attempt to slip past the wagon and its struggling escort.

Pick a number from the
Random Number Table
. If you have Grand Mastery of Assimilance, add 3 to the number you have chosen.

If your total score is now 5 or less,
turn to 181
.

If it is 6 or more,
turn to 59
.

Warily you follow the track into the deepening gloom, your senses alive to the evil that permeates every root and branch of this forbidding forest. As darkness closes in there arises from out of the mire a mist, grey-green and sickly, which smothers the ground. Its corpse-like chill leaves you shivering, despite all your efforts to shield yourself from its clammy touch.

Night no longer restricts your vision and, as the track ascends towards a wooded peak, you see the outline of a ruined stone watchtower perched atop a rocky knoll. You sense that the tower is deserted and, keen to escape from the mist, you climb towards a crack in its granite base. You crouch to enter the jagged breach and, in doing so, you disturb a host of crab-creatures nesting within. In a frenzy they scuttle away from the tower, disappearing among the surrounding rocks in the blink of an eye.

Aching with fatigue, and mindful of the perils which still lie ahead, you settle yourself into a corner of the rubble-strewn tower and try to snatch a few hours of sleep. This night your slumber is disturbed by strange and unwholesome dreams, formed from the fears suppressed by your conscious mind. You are haunted by phantom shapes which take the form of friends and fellow countrymen. Kai initiates under your tutorage and simple Sommlending folk, their heads bowed and their faces pitted and disfigured by plague, drift past you in a seemingly endless procession.

You awake with a start, your pulse racing and your forehead glistening with beads of sweat. At first a sense of hopelessness washes over you, brought on by the vivid memory of your nightmare but, as your consciousness returns, so too does your inner strength. You perceive the dreams as a warning of what will happen should your quest fail, and this realization strengthens your resolve to reach Mogaruith and thwart the Ceners' evil plan.

You have slept for several hours and, physically at least, you feel refreshed (restore 3
ENDURANCE
points). In the half-light of early morning you gather together your equipment and weapons in readiness to resume your perilous journey to Mogaruith.

Turn to 160
.

The sound of scraping metal and rattling chains echoes in your ears as you fell the creature with a deadly blow to the base of its skull. As it falls from its stool, you spin around, weapon in hand, and the first thing you see is the knife-like glint of fangs. From a semicircular hole in the wall a pack of war-dogs come charging into the hall, their jaws agape and their claws scrabbling on the shiny flagstones as they race towards the desk. You raise your weapon confidently and brace yourself in readiness to meet their attack.

Illustration I
—A pack of war-dogs with jaws agape charges into the hall.

Ruel War-dogs:
COMBAT SKILL
 36   
ENDURANCE
 22

If you win this combat,
turn to 323
.

The columns of armoured rat-men pay little attention to you, but your undead charge does elicit squeals of disgust from some as you draw closer to their mighty stronghold.

Walking across the age-blackened drawbridge towards the spiky arched tower of Mogaruith is an unnerving experience. It is as if you are walking along a blackened tongue towards the gaping throat of some gigantic dragon. On either side the bubbling moat releases foul fumes which fill your nostrils with a terrible sugary stench that clogs your lungs and blurs your vision. You draw upon your Magnakai skills and your vision clears, but the sight which lies ahead looks no more inviting than it did before.

At the tower you are challenged by a troop of Vazhag guards who regard your companion with a distaste that is all too obvious. Using your Magnakai Disciplines of Animal Control and Pathsmanship to aid your deception, you inform them that you have come from the south on urgent business. They demand to know your name and why you have charge of an undead human. You try to bluff them but you notice that the zombie's presence is beginning to attract the unwanted interest of other Vazhag guards.

One of the rat-men pushes his snout to within inches of your mask and says, to your surprise, that you can enter Mogaruith so long as you first register your arrival. He points to a door in the tower wall and asks you to enter it. ‘There,’ he says, ‘you can make your registration.’

Immediately your Magnakai sense of Divination warns that the Vazhag is lying; a prison cell awaits you beyond that door.

If you wish to do as the Vazhag requests and enter the door,
turn to 30
.

If you refuse to enter the door,
turn to 162
.

If you decide to attempt to distract the Vazhag guards,
turn to 256
.

As you strike the blow that brings one of the fearsome monsters crashing lifelessly to the ground, you spring away from its gore-stained carcass and barge shoulder-first through the line of screeching ghouls. The spectacle of the fallen Giganite, and the suddenness of your action, has taken the creatures by surprise. Before they can react you have already sprinted to within a few yards of the leafy tunnel.

You glance over your shoulder to see the shambling horde falling over themselves in their haste to give chase. The sight raises your spirits but the sensation is short-lived, for above them towers a Giganite, its mouth full of bubbling phlegm. With a flick of its powerful neck it sends the massive spit-ball arcing towards your fleeing form.

Instinctively you throw yourself to the ground and the foul missile whooshes past, hitting a tree at the base of its trunk. At once there is a sizzling sound and, with a creaking groan, the tree is brought crashing to the ground, its base eaten clean away by the acidic saliva. Great droplets of the spittle splash your tunic and instantly it begins to smoulder.

If you possess Grand Nexus,
turn to 88
.

If you do not possess this Discipline,
turn to 343
.

With ease, you sidestep and dodge your way through the throng of hungry Vazhag, and escape undetected into the empty passage which lies beyond the iron portal. A few minutes later, as you are exploring this new tunnel, you hear the squealing cease as the great door closes with a rumbling boom.

The passage continues eastwards for several miles and, with the exception of an occasional Vazhag sentry, it is virtually deserted. At length you arrive at the entrance to another hall smaller than the lava-cavern but equally as crowded. Daylight streams into this hall through a large archway guarded by armoured Vazhag, and pairs of horny-skinned war-dogs which they hold on the leash. Beyond the archway you can see a track that disappears towards a distant ridge of hills.

Directly above the archway, you notice a thin ray of sunlight streaming through a window-like hole in the rock. Sorely aware that the main entrance is so heavily guarded that it will be very difficult, even for someone as gifted as yourself, to escape that way undetected, you resolve instead to escape by means of the smaller opening in the rock wall.

Pick a number from the
Random Number Table
. If you possess the Discipline of Grand Huntmastery, add 3 to the number you have chosen.

If your total score is now 5 or less,
turn to 192
.

If it is 6 or more,
turn to 346
.

‘Szalista,’
you say, the ancient Cenerese word meaning ‘fifteen’, and immediately you hear the door's locking mechanism disengage itself.
³
There is a hiss of escaping air and the heavy portal swings slowly inwards on massive hinges.

Without hesitation, you step through the doorway and enter the circular tunnel beyond.

Turn to 205
.

The passage descends steeply and the foul air becomes thick with a gritty dust which clogs your eyes and nostrils. Although the pitch blackness does not hamper your vision, the air has become so saturated with dust that you now have difficulty seeing more than a few feet in front of your outstretched hands. Slowly you advance, trusting to your Magnakai skills to protect you from choking as you seek a clearer section of the passage.

After a while you notice long streamers of greasy yellow moss hanging from cracks in the tunnel roof. Between them are spread festering fungi of varying hues, all cankerous and vile to the eye. You are passing beneath these growths when suddenly, as if triggered by a silent command, they burst open and shower you with great clouds of sticky, mote-like spores.

At once your body senses that the spores are highly poisonous and, as a subconscious reflex, your Magnakai Curing skills activate and counter the deadly toxins that have found their way into your lungs. Your chest is wracked with pain but you sustain no serious injury: lose 2
ENDURANCE
points.

The sticky, foul-smelling spore cloud is so thick that you have difficulty moving forwards. It feels as if you are wading through a tunnel of mud. Your Kai skills have neutralized the poisonous spores, but there is now hardly any air left to breathe. Fear wells up in your stomach as you feel your strength beginning to ebb.

If you possess some Baylon's Bough Fungi,
turn to 277
.

If you do not possess this item,
turn to 136
.

‘There is only one who could withstand the fire of this wand … Kai Lord,’ he spits, still pointing at you with his flame-tipped staff.

‘And I rejoice that fate has brought you here to me, Lone Wolf. Your doom is sealed. Turn around and meet your nemesis!’

Turn to 125
.

As your killing blow severs the creature's body, the two halves explode, scattering shards of mummified remains all around the chamber. The force knocks you backwards and, as you fall, you catch a glimpse of a wispy, ghost-like shadow, rising towards the ceiling. It halts for a moment in mid-air, and then it seeps through the solid stone ceiling like smoke through a veil.

Before leaving the chamber you pause to search the stone casket. Inside you discover a few mouldering rags and a Copper Key (if you wish to keep this Key, record it on your
Action Chart
as a Backpack Item).

Cursing your ill luck, you leave the chamber and head towards the laboratory door. On the other side of it you discover a series of narrow passages which eventually end at an antechamber. This domed chamber is decorated with tapestries which depict Cenerese legends, ignoble and infamous deeds that were perpetrated during the Age of the Old Kingdoms, when, for nearly a thousand years, the Cenerese tyrannized Northern Magnamund.

A single heavy oaken door in the opposite wall offers the only exit from the antechamber. As you approach it, you notice that it is slightly ajar. Suddenly you hear the doleful sound of chanting emanating from beyond this door. Curiosity prompts you to peer through its narrow opening and, as you do so, a chill runs the length of your spine when you see what lies beyond.

Turn to 200
.

You look down to see that a leafy vine is spiralling upwards around your leg. You summon your powers to repel the plant but your commands appear to have no effect. Then the fearful realization hits you that this is not a vine at all: it is the limb of a bog creature.

You attack and sever the plant-like tendril, but immediately there is another, and then another. With the speed of striking snakes they ensnare your legs and wrench you into the morass. You fight desperately to free yourself as you are dragged deeper into the foul-smelling mire. Repeatedly you strike out below the surface in the hope of dealing your attacker a mortal wound. You feel something burst upon your weapon's tip and, momentarily, the creature's grip falters, but only to recover with renewed strength and tenacity.

Then sharp pain lances through your thighs as row upon row of barbed claws spring out from the unseen creature's tendrils and puncture your skin. You scream in agony and your cry is echoed from beneath the surface of the muddy pool by the sound of a malicious bubbling laugh.

If you possess Animal Mastery,
turn to 339
.

If you do not possess this Discipline,
turn to 47
.