Free The Kingdoms of Terror by Joe Dever

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209
    Trembling with fear, you draw the bowstring and fire. The Arrow glances off its armoured head and shatters against the crypt wall. There is no time for a second shot. You shoulder your Bow and prepare for close combat as the creature moves in to strike.
    Turn to 344 .

211
    The captain is an imposing man, tall, muscular, with a strong-jawed face, unmarked by battle or disease. His blond hair is cropped close to his head, and likewise, his beard and moustache are trimmed close to his tanned skin. You are invited to join his company, and as you drink your ale, you listen to their proud talk of war, of victories, of loot, and wages — but never of defeat.
    The captain and his men have grown tired of the war in the north. Prince Janveal of Helin is close to ruin, having sold all he owns to pay for a war against Baron Maghao of Karkaste that he cannot hope to win. The prince's troops are demoralized and his mercenaries desert him at the first opportunity. You learn that the captain is recruiting men for a campaign in the south. The war between Salony and Slovia has reached boiling point, and there is much gold to be had in the service of the Salonese Prince Ewevin while he besieges the city of Tekaro.

    ‘You have the mien of a skilful warrior,’ says the captain, his steel-blue eyes cold and unblinking. ‘Why not join my company? I have need of fighters, and I pay with gold, not promises. We leave for Tekaro at dawn — will you ride with us?’
    Politely you refuse the captain's offer, saying that you have come to Varetta on other business.
    ‘What business is there for a warrior other than war?’ retorts the captain, to the raucous delight of his men. You finish your ale and bid the captain and his company goodnight.
    ‘If you change your mind, join us at Soren. We sail the river from there in two days' time.’
    If you have a Map of Varetta, turn to 17 .
    If you do not possess this Special Item, turn to 104 .

214
    The Kalte hunting bow is constructed from many strips of bone, glued and bonded together with layers of sinew. It is an ideal weapon for hunting baknar or kalkoth in the icy wastes of Kalte, but as a target bow in the warm climate of the Stornlands it is a very poor choice. When you enter the tournament, you must reduce your COMBAT SKILL by 4 points for the duration of the contest.
    To begin the tournament, turn to 340 .

216
    You concentrate all your powers of Curing, transmitting the warmth created by your Magnakai skill through your hands into the shattered body of the magician. His frail shoulders tremble as he forces himself to whisper once more: ‘Brass Street … Varetta … find Gwynian the sage … he will help … help your quest — ’
    Turn to 46 .

218
    As wave after wave of horses thunder across the bridge, you are trampled into the ground.
    Your quest and your life end here.

219
    Suddenly, there is a mighty crash as the hall door is slammed shut. Into the tavern strides a black-browed young lordling, wearing a flamboyant costume of ebony and gold. He makes a ceremonious display of removing his velvet cloak and pompously demands food and wine, and it takes three serving girls and the innkeeper to see to his wishes. His manner is so insulting that you are not surprised to see the many scars that disfigure his young face. He must be continually provoking fights and duels.
    The lordling chooses to seat himself at a table already occupied by a small, thin, inoffensive old man. Within seconds there is a thunderous outburst of foul language. The lordling grabs the old man by the throat, lifts him one-handedly from his seat, and hurls him to the floor. ‘You snivelling toad, how dare you sit with me!’ he bellows.
    Illustration XIII —The lordling kicks back his chair and towers over the wretch.
    Bewildered and frightened, the little man fumbles an apology, but to no avail. The lordling kicks back his chair and towers over the wretch, his hand clasped around the hilt of his sword.