Legion of Shadow (101 page)

You throw yourself into a dive, as the flames smash into the ground, sending stone fragments flying through the air. As the dust clears, you catch sight of a raised rune, glowing with white
light. You notice two more, gleaming at the edges of the circle.

‘Break the seals,’ cries Arthurian, stumbling breathlessly to his feet. ‘It is the only way!’

Special abilities

If you win a combat round, you can choose to strike the architect or one of the seals. If you destroy a seal, its ability no longer applies.

If you defeat this ghostly guardian, turn to
812
. If you are defeated, turn to
796
.

805

With the golem defeated, your attention turns to Fetch, who is struggling to unlock a wooden door at the end of the room. He is cursing and muttering to himself, casting
desperate glances over his shoulder. With a grim smile, you advance on the assassin.

‘Going somewhere, Fetch?

There is the click of a lock. But it is too late . . .

You rush forward, slamming into the black-robed man and pinning him against the door.

‘Don’t try any of that magic business,’ you growl in his ear. ‘I’m done with the little excursions.’

‘I couldn’t if I wanted to,’ spits the assassin. ‘My magic is spent . . .’

‘Good.’ You spin him around to face you, peering intently into the shadows of his black hood. ‘Now, I want some answers, Fetch’.

If you have the words
black book
written on your hero sheet, turn to
913
. Otherwise turn to
810
.

806

The endless rain drums against the floor of the cavern, splashing on the uneven rocks and forming ever-deepening pools of muddy water. You huddle in your cloak, shivering
uncontrollably. You wish it was just the cold that was making you tremble, but deep down you know it is the result of your craving – the need to absorb more magic.

At the other side of the room, the shadow energy has started to coalesce, moulding itself back into a human shape. Once formed, the ghost drifts back into the robber’s clothing, fleshing
out its grime-stained folds.

There is a staccato flash of lightning.

When the brightness abates, you see that the robber is now lying on the ground – perfectly healed. With a gasp, he sits up, reaching instinctively for his throat.

You step forward, holding up his silver crucifix. ‘Looking for something?’ you ask.

The robber stumbles to his feet, his expression confused. ‘Why do you still haunt me?’ he mutters, shaking his head. ‘Why do you test me?’

You throw the crucifix at his feet, watching as he scrabbles in the muddy water to retrieve it. ‘Show me your arm.’

The robber looks up, a single crazed eye peering at you through long tangles of hair. ‘What?’

‘Your arm,’ you insist angrily. ‘You must have a mark!’

The robber straightens, regarding you thoughtfully. Slowly, he places his crucifix back over his head, tugging it down to lie over his chest. Then he proceeds to remove his coat. Holding it out
at arm’s length, he lets it drop into the mud. The military jerkin is short-sleeved, revealing a purple brand running up the entire length of his right arm. It is identical to your own.

‘Are you one of them?’ he asks, his voice trembling. ‘This is not my body. I am not . . . a shadow spawn!’

‘Then tell me everything,’ you insist, folding your arms. Turn to
920
.

807

At the foot of the stairs, two spluttering torches frame a grotesque creature, its back hunched over to allow its hulking form to fit under the low ceiling. It is humanoid, with
coarse black hair covering much of its body. Tendrils of gooey saliva drip from beneath its fanged muzzle, as it drags a whetstone back and forth across a black-bladed sword. The beast appears to
be guarding an iron door, set into the earthen wall behind it.

‘Wha . . .?’ The beast looks up, its beady-yellow eyes squinting towards you.

Without slowing, you raise your hands and release a blast of shadow magic. The beast is blown backwards, smashing the door off its hinges and taking part of the wall with it. The air fills with
the stench of brimstone and burnt hair. Wrinkling your nose, you step past the charred body and enter the room beyond.

Through the dust and smoke, you see that you have entered a large cave. Dark shapes are silhouetted by a bright golden light, pulsing from a circular object that rests on an ornate podium. There
is something in its design that reminds you of the shadow gate; perhaps the steam that belches from holes around its edge or the glyphs that shimmer and crackle with magic.

For now, the dark shapes are of more immediate concern – a horde of misshapen creatures, each one a different aberration of nature. They clutch a makeshift assortment of mean weapons,
their snarls and hisses echoing in the chamber.

But they hold their ground. Uncertain. A few eyes dart sideways, looking back towards the rear of the cave, where a black figure stands guard next to the strange machine. This one looks human,
clad in black plates of armour, their face hidden in the shadows of their cowl.

‘You cannot stop us, betrayer!’ The voice is rasping, weak-sounding, its words carried on short, ragged breaths. ‘Did you really think the legion could be defeated – that
the black guard would be denied its revenge?’ Armour and leather creak as the warrior raises an arm, pointing a finger towards you. ‘Forward my fiends. Bring me its head!’

The monsters break ranks, rushing forward in an undisciplined mob. As their stinking bodies descend on your position, you feel the shadow mark blossom into life, relishing the battle to
come.

You weave in amongst the beasts’ clumsy strikes, moving with uncanny speed. Your weapons slice through armour and hide, leaving a deafening clamour of pained cries in your wake. A
reptilian creature hefts a claymore above its head. You dodge aside as the weapon is brought down, with enough strength to have hewn a man in two. Stepping onto the blade, you leap into the air,
kicking the beast backwards into a crowd of its brethren. You land in a spin, cutting down more of the infernal creatures, your laughter mingling with their howls and roars.

You edge slowly towards the back of the cave, where the hooded warrior presides over the battle, his thick arms folded across his chest. ‘You cannot stop us,’ wheezes the voice in
your ear.

Suddenly, the flat of a blade catches you across the back. You stagger, knocked forwards by the strength of the blow. Turning, you see a mountain of muscle bearing down on you, a sword held in
each of its four hands. You dodge the first strike, catching the next and turning it away with your weapon. But the other blows hit home, drawing blood and beating you back against the wall.

Then you hear the crackle of magic and a hollering cry. Something is moving quickly through the ranks of shadow spawn, glowing swords exploding through weapons and armour. ‘Nyms!’
you call with relief. ‘A welcome sight.’

The swordsman fights with a brutal efficiency, his quick arcs and jabs downing his stunned opponents. ‘Hate to see you have all the fun,’ he grunts, vaulting off the back of one of
the creatures, to spin into your four-armed adversary. ‘Get the hooded one!’ he shouts. ‘I’ve got your back.’ He cuts down the giant, his magic swords blazing trails
through the air.

You advance on the leader, smashing through the remaining shadow spawn that get in your way. As you near, you realise the warrior is a veritable giant, standing over two metres tall. His entire
body is encased in thick sheets of shadow-forged armour; even his face is masked by an iron plate, its surface carved with intricate runes.

‘So it comes to this,’ wheezes the voice. The warrior uncrosses his arms, revealing a metal disc embedded in his chest. ‘You know nothing of power, Nevarin.’ He puts a
gloved hand to the disc and then turns it. Suddenly his whole body changes, shifting into a ghostly shadow of purple light. With dark laughter echoing all about you, the warrior summons crackling
flames to his hands. ‘The black guard will have its victory,’ he hisses. ‘And all of Valeron will fall!’

You must now fight this dark general:

Special abilities