PRINCE OF PERSIA: WARRIOR WITHIN - PC/PS2/GC/XBOX
FAQ/Walkthrough by J Woodrow <mansion880@yahoo.co.uk>
Version 1.0 - 2006/03/03
_________________________________________________________________________
P R I N C E O F P E R S I A
-- Warrior Within --
Written by Corey May and Michael Wendshuh
-- Adaptation by J Woodrow --------------------------------------------
Breathless footsteps run to the blur of an ancient walled city at first
light of dawn. Towers and rooftops glow as if on fire. The sound of
running and labored gasping for breath echoes down narrow twisting
streets. An ominous growl rises behind. A hooded figure frantically flees
along deserted alleys, under a network of rafters and lantern-lit arches.
He vaults a fallen beam, looks back, quickly right, then left down a maze
of alleys, and takes flight once more.
Suddenly in his path a rabid dog, slavering jaws bared. The greater
danger comes behind. He dives past, and with a yelp the wretched cur is
swept aside by the black rushing cloud that boils in his wake.
The young man swings to high rafters, searching for escape. Whatever
pursues him has awesome power, it splinters the heavy beams like
matchwood. He jumps to the ground and runs once more through the twisting
cobbled streets. His feet pound wildly. From the relentless shadow of
destruction tentacles reach out.
He jumps scattered pots, smashed moments after by the dark force rushing
ever closer. He stumbles to a dead end, throws his shoulder to a heavy
door, again and again, and hammers a fist uselessly. Cornered, he turns,
draws swords and stands tall to face the ravening beast.
In his mind's eye, a flash of events that brought him to this.
A sailing ship plows through a storm, its bow plunges to the waves.
Lightning flickers. Rain whips the cloaked figure of the Prince of
Persia.
"This storm shows us no mercy," he shouts above the wind. "We shall
respond in kind! Reef the mainsail."
His men struggle up the rigging. He puts a hand to the shoulder of the
mate.
"Bring us closer to the wind."
Above the storm he senses something at the edge of the dark.
A hail of flaming grappling irons shaft out of the night to hook on to
the rails. From the deck of a looming pirate ship, savage creatures haul
ropes. The Prince's ship is dragged remorselessly towards that of the
Pirates. He shouts courage to his men.
"Ready your weapons!"
He shrugs off his cloak and holds sword aloft.
Men slide from the rigging. Fireballs crash down on their ship. Sailors
rush to the deck, swords in hand. A horde of pirate raiders confront
them. The Prince stares open-mouthed. Framed in lightning the Pirates
howl from their ship - not men but hellish creatures that brandish
hideous weapons and utter low animal cries. As they draw nearer an Amulet
the Prince wears on his breastplate glows as if in warning. He clasps it
tight. The horned demons growl, fangs bared and red eyes burning with
hate. They heave the ropes that drag the helpless ship ever closer.
With no regard for the icy lash of rain and salt spray, from below decks
on the massive attack vessel a near naked female figure steps slowly to
her stage.
Pirates haul ropes. The ships crash together. The creatures roar in
triumph, then fall to silence, turn and part as the figure appears and
walks among them. A voluptuous young woman, no more than a girl but sure
of her power. Cropped black hair, black lips, black boots to her thighs,
barely attired in strips of black leather. She carries a sword, moves
among her minions, caresses one and another as a pet. On the other ship
the men are awed, the Prince transfixed. The cruel smile vanishes from
her lips. She snarls a command.
"Kill him."
The creatures swarm aboard. One sailor falls to a sword thrust, another
has throat cut and on a growl of triumph from his attacker is thrown
overboard. With a challenging cry, the defiant Prince vaults a burning
rail, sword in hand.
Two of the pirate creatures circle. He throws up a block as they strike
together, then returns swiftly to cut the first down with a volley of
blows. It collapses to a cloud of foul yellow dust and vanishes with a
shriek. Though they bleed these are not even half-human creations. He has
no time to consider, the other is on him. He vaults nimbly over and
tosses it to the sea.
All around are the sounds of the struggle and clash of steel. Explosions
rock the blood-soaked deck as the Prince advances and cuts down another
Pirate. He moves about the open, fighting, blocking, and holding back one
and another until he can slash with his sword. He tries different moves
and learns swiftly. He executes on each attacker whichever combination of
sword strike seems best, with the same shriek and the same crumple to
blood and yellow dust at its end.
Temporarily blocked by burning debris, an explosion clears the way and he
fights on. A missile strikes the crows nest high above; a luckless sailor
is blown out, and falls with a cry. His body smashes through the wooden
deck, tumbling the Prince down the shattered gap to the hold.
The bilges are awash. He takes a scoop of water to clear his head and
gropes through the darkened hold. A few of his men fight a desperate
hand-to-hand struggle with Pirates at the bow. Too late to save them, the
Prince finishes their attackers with a furious charge and a flying swing
about a deck prop. Though inhuman, these creatures it seems are sentient
beings, as one offers a dying curse:
"You have made yourself many enemies this day."
Their number will surely become fewer as they make themselves known. He
moves on below the other side of the ship, likewise flooded. A harpoon
bursts through timbers, narrowly missing his head, and a second and third
close beside. Water sprays in. He runs on, and is confronted by another
Pirate raider. About to strike, the Prince is knocked hard as the
attacking ship crashes into his, splintering the hold and crushing the
hapless Pirate. Yet more water rushes in. His ship is surely doomed. The
Prince moves on up a short flight of stairs, but is trapped by burning
debris. Dead crewmen lie at every corner. He spots a rope stretched taut,
grasps tight and cuts it with his sword. He is hoist aloft, springing
with its release beyond the deck above, flying through the air, where he
is launched into the soft folds of a billowing sail, tattered and licked
by flames. With his blade to slow the fall, the Prince slides to a spar
and drops onto the open deck. He looks to the bridge.
The girl in black stands imperious. She gazes down on him without
emotion. A sailor rushes behind her, sword raised. She flicks one casual
blade and cuts him down at a stroke.
On the open deck below, creatures surround the Prince.
"Let's finish him," says one. "Help me with this."
As many as there are they prove no match for the Prince's soon practiced
blade.
"You'll have to do better than that," he advises. "I will not allow you
to stand in my way."
Anger rises as he sees the bodies of his men all around. Fiery arrows
streak down on a deck already ablaze. He leaps over a massive grappling
iron to make his way to the bridge and the one responsible for the
destruction of his ship. With a furious cry he clears a last Pirate from
the gangway to the bridge and turns to confront the she-devil there. Her
near naked figure steps out above.
"You will never reach our shores alive," she warns.
"For your sake, you'd better hope I don't."
He races up on the bridge to challenge her.
"Flee," she warns, "while it's still an option."
His only thought is for revenge, and their swords clash.
She proves a much better fighter than any of her minions. The Prince is
forced to block her furious attack again and again. She probes with her
sword, tempting him to drop his guard but then launches a flurry of
strokes, which hit him with a shock.
"You call yourself a master swordsman?"
He has experience enough to spot weakness. Her training is excellent but
a little too rigid. Her attacks take a pattern. He blocks patiently then
awaits a characteristic upward lunge with both blades - devastating
should he prove unwary - followed always by a vicious single swipe. He
chooses this moment to counter, and manages at least one telling strike
that sends her gasping. Recovery is swift. He blocks and repeats.
At a moment he finds the fight going his way she strikes fast, slashing
across his face. Though his reflexes are sharp he cannot take the sting
from the blow and is cut deep, eyebrow to cheek. He reels back.
"You bitch!"
He flies at her in fury, and strikes hard. She recovers. They circle
again. The girl lowers her sword in contempt as he retreats to catch his
breath, slaps her hip with a blade, and taunts him.
"You don't honestly believe you can defeat me?"
He sets in to try again. They lock swords. He summons all his energy to
force her back by degrees.
"I grow tired of this," he says.
"Is that the best you have to offer?" her reply. "Tell me when you're
going to be ready to fight for real."
Space on the bridge is limited, and the Prince moves cautiously about,
holds his block and waits his chance to strike always at the same point
in her rigid assault, though she now moves swiftly aside from his attack.
At a moment he stumbles, she stamps with a heel, and stands waiting for
him to regain his feet. Their swords lock a second time.
"It seems the Empress overestimated your abilities."
The Prince is momentarily distracted.
"The Empress?"
How could she know his intent? The girl takes swift advantage of his
lapse in concentration. She knocks the weapon from his hand, clutches him
by the throat and delivers a stunning blow, kicks him brutally to the
head, and casts him contemptuously aside. He sinks to unconsciousness,
her black-lipped sneer burned on his mind.
"The Island of Time..."
The Prince drifts in the current. Swirled in the depths of the ocean the
memory of a voice comes to him.
"...the place where the Sands were created. The place from which the
Maharajah stole the Hourglass."
In a tent in the desert wilderness the Prince takes counsel of a wise Old
Man.
"And what if I could reach this island?" the Prince asks.
"They say the Maharajah found portals there," the Old Man goes on. "Where
one could pass backwards through time."
He reaches among his utensils with sightless eyes.
"Back through time?" the Prince wonders. "To the birthplace of the
Sands..."
The wizened face of the bearded Old Man frowns with foreboding as the
Prince speaks.
"Something terrible happened when our army traveled to the Maharajah's
palace."
In a flash of years before, the Prince recalls plunging the Dagger of
Time into a mysterious hourglass.
"You found the Sands of Time?"
"Worse! I opened them."
His mind is scarred with the memory of terrible demon ogres unleashed at
the bidding of an evil Vizier when he was tricked into opening the
hourglass and the Sands were released.
"Whosoever shall open the Sands must die," recites the Old Man.
"I was forced to kill those I fought beside. Those I had loved."
"But now an unstoppable beast chases you."
The Old Man unstops a flask.
"For the first time in my life," the Prince looks to his mentor. "I am
afraid."
The wise mystic has no words of comfort. "And you will die."
The Prince tries to explain.
"I used the Sands themselves to reverse time, making it as if the
Hourglass was never opened."
In so doing, he has irreparably altered the true course of Time.
"The beast - the Dahaka - is the guardian of the Timeline. You were
supposed to die, so it will catch you and see to it that you meet your
fate."
He raises a hand to still the Prince, set to leave. The young man is
determined, and speaks firmly.
"It is better to try than to wait here for death."
"Madness! Even if you manage to reach the Island, you'll still have to
face the Empress of Time."
"I will travel back in time and prevent the Sands from ever being made,"
the Prince reasons. "If there are no Sands, the Dahaka will have no
quarrel with me."
"Go then, my Prince, but know this: your journey will not end well. You
cannot change your fate." The Old Man turns away. "No man can."
-- WRECKAGE -------------------------------------------------------------
The Prince comes to lying on a rocky shore, pecked at by squawking black
birds. He stands quickly and shrugs them away. All around in the gloom of
dawn the wreckage of his ship is tossed in the surf, but no sign of his
companions. Nor yet their attackers. As more birds threaten, he feels
instinctively to his back.
"My swords! Gone."
He picks up a length of wood and strikes his tormentors. Each fades in a
wild cawing flurry of feathers, and not only blood but also the curious
yellow substance of sand. No ordinary wildlife this; he is in a cursed
place of demons.
Though strewn with spars and wreckage, the turbulent cove is devoid of
life, but for more possessed crows which caw and circle to assail him. He
wearily hacks them aside, and considers his lot.
"My crew! All are lost. I will find the one who did this," his voice
cracks with emotion, "and she will pay."
Scattered on the shore is the wreckage of many ships, not just his own.
Here too, as a warning perhaps, dismembered corpses strung on a gibbet.
The cove is set into a cavern of rock. Waterfalls tumble to the shore. A
broken walkway leads up. On steps at its foot, lit brands gutter in the
wind. He moves to them, the only way off the shore. He negotiates gaps
and ledges, works his way steadily upward. He passes a decorative stone
basin where water flows as the tears of a maiden carved at its head. The
clear fountain water is greatly refreshing. At a wall of split rock he
dislodges nesting birds, which scatter but do not threaten him. He works
meticulously around rocks and ledges, not risking a fall from these
cliffs on a clumsy maneuver. He looks out on the cold misted ocean, wind
and waves and the desultory flapping of dislodged birds the only sounds
in this desolate place.
He comes soon to solid stone walls of a fortress built into the rock. He
must find a way in. At a gap between rock platforms he runs out on a
wall, passes easily from one to the next - easily that is for the young
agile Prince, but much beyond any lesser man. He comes to broken columns,
part of another walkway still partially erected above. He clutches at the
most slender and shuffles to its top, reaches back to another and on to
the next. From his hold on the last column he jumps to grab on to the
walkway, and pulls up.
A thick tree trunk blocks up the way ahead, evidence of disuse of the
walkway for very many years. Close by stand massive wooden gates. The
foot of one gate has rotted out. He ducks and rolls through.
"Stop the intruder!" a voice shouts, "He's the one the Empress wants
dead."
Enemies lie in wait, hideous horned creatures the same devilish spawn as
the Pirate raiders, their words confirmation that this is the domain of
the Empress of Time and these her willing servants. He engages swiftly,
using his length of wood to batter one aside as he deals with the next.
He steals a weapon from one and then turns to finish both. The Prince had
not sought this confrontation, but with each enemy slain he took account
of the lives of his murdered crew. Now inside the fortress walls there
would surely be more sentries ready in wait. He clambers on stone blocks
to shallow steps, broken in front, to make his way further in.
Wind howls. With another agile run along a wall he comes to a broken
platform with a bigger gap beyond. Set about in niches in the fortress
walls stand statues of knights in armor, one at his side now crumbled as
ruinous vegetation takes hold. The gap ahead is crossed at a run with a
leap backwards off it, to land face to face with more Raiders.
"Let's finish him."
Practice for his new sword.
Tall gates stand open ahead. All seems quiet. He makes his way over
blocks and stones to an iron gate that bars his way. Beside it a
collapsed block, off which he climbs over the wall in front. On the other
side of the gate, stone statues stand mute yet impressive. These appear
to be of the Griffin, a mythical beast he had learned of in school, with
the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. What could be its
significance here? Light breaks through the ceiling above and tree
branches hook in. A door at one side is firmly shut. The Prince moves
through a high arched doorway to gray light ahead.
High in front of him stands the entrance to a mighty castle building. He
is certain that his quarry has passed this way.
"Come on, I know you're out there," the Prince mutters as he looks about.
"Show yourself."
Black boots step out nearby.
"Where I come from," continues the Prince, "we face our opponents. And if
our enemy is unarmed we offer them a sword."
On this last he slashes quickly at the creeping figure of the girl in
black behind, cuts her gasping to the ground. In a second, Raiders gather
to her aid. She gets to her feet and commands them.
"Kill him!"
The first minion charges, yellow eyes burning with blind hate, and is
knocked to the ground. The Prince steals its weapon and impales the
wretch with it. Whirling through the air, he lashes out and the rest are
dealt death in similarly gruesome style. The Prince turns to his now
unprotected opponent. She gives a look of loathing and signals to a
second wave of loyal servants as she makes her escape. Once more
surrounded, the Prince readies his weapons.
----------------------------------------------
YOU GAIN
S P I D E R S W O R D
This ancient sword is common
on the Island.
----------------------------------------------
"He's no match for us."
"Few can match blades with me," he warns.
Though at first sight outnumbered, the Prince executes dazzling moves
upon the attackers as he sees fit, whirling and slashing, chopping and
slicing, dealing decapitation and dismemberment until the last shriek.
"Slaughtered," comments the Prince with some understatement. He sheaths
his swords and looks around.
He stands on a short ruined platform. Stunted vegetation gnarls the foot
of broken steps that lead away to end abruptly in collapsed blocks. Much
higher are seen the rest of the flight, at what must be the Fortress
Entrance. He will have to work another way to get within.
He returns inside to find a door now ajar, through which no doubt his
craven quarry fled. He takes sustenance at a fountain basin.
-- THE RUINED FORTRESS --------------------------------------------------
The gray stone passage in which he stands is much damaged by time. The
floor bears intricate decoration, now broken and ruined. He leaps first
one gap and then another. In his way a small wooden rack, that when
smashed reveals a useful weapon. He returns to the open through a doorway
ahead.
Evil black birds watch balefully, orange eyes aglow. At a squawk they
rise to a dense flock and form themselves as an ungodly black-cloaked
demon. It rises from one knee to flourish a sword. The Prince, undaunted,
rushes to its challenge.
On a narrow stone bridge, with circular decoration cracked at its center,
the combatants clash. The Prince learns soon that this Crow Master is
swift to block and swifter to strike. Though tall, it takes little effort
for him to vault over, and it seems weakest then. It stumbles with a
shocked shrill cry as he deals down a savage blow on its back. A flurry
of dust and feathers rise. He repeats the move but the creature blocks.
He tries again and gets through, and again it gasps and reels. He keeps
up this leaping tactic, though it oftentimes blocks, and with persistence
breaks through.
The demon collapses and scatters as screeching birds. These flap wildly
and rise in a furious cloud, then settle on a higher ledge, where as the
Crow Master they reform. The Prince senses that on that very path his
course lies, and searches about for some means to get up to it. As he
moves away a thick watery voice echoes.
"You'll need to try harder if you hope to best me."
"Your time would be better spent seeking sanctuary," advises the Prince.
"Run while you still can."
The platform created by the broken floor allows no way forward. Steps in
front lead only to a closed wooden gate. Twin columns stand at one side,
too high to reach on their thick bases. At the side of his entrance a low
wall rises to a ledge. An upward wall run and jump back bring him to a
small platform formed by its canopy. The Prince looks across to broken
walkways where the Crow Master waits. It seems almost to be showing him
the way, daring him to come to it and face its challenge. Very well. The
two slender columns are between them. The Prince runs out on the wall,
leaps at a trail of ivy aligned to it, and catches the first column. With
a swift shuffle round he grabs for the second, and straight from it, over
bottomless depths to land on the walkway with its stern standing
obstacle.
"So it's a fight you want?" the Prince shouts. "I can smell your fear
from here."
"Unfortunate that you have fallen so easily," returns the avian demon. "I
find this display of weakness surprising."
The narrow walkway is not the best battleground but a few timely attacks
of downward slashes upon it bring the towering foe to a crumble of
feathers and dust as before. Yet again it reforms to the black-cloaked
figure on a higher ledge.
"Rise up, Prince, let us continue this, I'm not finished yet."
"I grow tired of this," he replies. "Why do you bother?"
The Prince moves to it in determined pursuit. By a wall run to a block
and another to return, he climbs ledges overhead, and on to a precarious
hanging column. A last jump and he faces the Crow Master once more.
"Do you see now how it's done?" it mocks.
The Prince is unmoved. "I have faced far worse than the likes of you."
He moves constantly, rolls at any attack and leaps in at first pause, not
letting the Crow Master's mighty sweeps come under his guard to knock him
off his feet. Still the demon taunts him.
"I am sure you can do better than that."
With but a little more exertion the Prince hacks at the Crow Master and
lands a blow that cleaves the demon through. It dissipates once more, and
this time he senses for good. There comes grudging respect even from this
unholy creation for the skill of the Prince. A disembodied voice echoes:
"It is an honor to die by your hand."
The demon leaves behind an impressive sword, which the Prince eagerly
snatches up.
This combat has led him up to high ledges. Beside him is a barred gate.
Broken steps downward lead nowhere and there is no obvious vantage point.
On a wall nearby, a brightly colored square tile hints at a method by
which the barred gate might open; a symbol upon it matches one on the
gate. The Prince runs nimbly up over the tile. As he does so the tile
illuminates. The pressure of his feet triggers a mechanism, and a hidden
switch activates. The gate behind is now unlocked.
He enters and looks down on a ruined chamber of ivy-covered walls and
broken stone pillars. Raiders stand waiting on the floor.
"Alert the others!" a voice commands, "Help me with this."
To one side, a long red curtain reaches almost to the floor. In the
manner he employed on the sail of his ship, the Prince runs out to it,
strikes through the material with his sword, thus braking his descent,
and slides smoothly down. Safe to the ground, he whirls into the waiting
pack. The last beaten Raider groans as he falls.
"Forgive my failure."
With the room now clear the Prince makes exploration. An impassible gap
splits the stone floor ahead. No way through the doorway there from here,
and no other exit. He sees up above a serviceable walkway that surely
leads somewhere. A pillar to one side offers access. He runs up off a
block at its base to grab hold of a ledge, shuffles to one side and hauls
up on the walkway, covered in rubble and home to a Raider. He sees it off
with scant exertion.
"Others will rise to take my place," comes its dying threat.
Very well, the Prince's thought. Come one, come all. He will be ready.
The walkway ends abruptly, but he sees a ledge around a pillar nearby
that he might reach by a wall run. Clinging on here, he shimmies around
the wall, over the misty depth of the impassable gap on the floor below.
Once round, he drops off to a niche and from there to a block on the
floor of a passage.
This leads in pale light to a gap rent across it. He hears a mechanical
squeak and sees below in the gap a spinning saw blade, grinding sparks.
Although wary of its likely effect, it seems somehow stuck fast and he
runs easily over to the other side of the gap. As he rounds a corner at a
run, spiked poles rise from the floor with a hollow 'Clunk!' to surprise
him, but likewise halt uselessly. These must once have been formidable
defenses but were now crippled by decay. He looks on, to a bright
shimmering doorway ahead. He approaches cautiously but sees that the
sheen is nothing more harmful than a shower of water, and passes safely
beneath.
Lichen-filled basins of water stand either side of a short dank passage
of arches and pillars. Leaves swirl in drafts, the ruined chamber where
he stands is open to the skies. He steps warily forward. To either side,
a pair of thick square pillars bear a tile with a distinctive blood red
symbol. A thin stream of intensely glowing yellow liquid runs from each
pillar to gullies in the stone floor, forming an intricate design ending
in a spiral, where a vortex of light rises. As the Prince steps forward
he is stopped in his tracks.
The girl in black looks over her shoulder with a sly grin. He draws his
weapon from his back and runs forward. She stands on the edge of a
circular platform, an abyss beyond. There is nowhere for her to go, she
cannot escape his sword this time. To his astonishment the girl is drawn
into the air and appears suspended by some unknown force. She gives a
moan of satisfaction. He runs to strike her with his sword but connects
only with air. She is gone!
"Madness!" he gasps, "What magic is this?"
Sparkles of sand glitter. As he stands bewildered, his body is wracked by
a spasm and he too is drawn up into a beam of glowing light.
Before his eyes, the decay of time is rolled back. Clinging vegetation
shrinks its clawing roots from broken pillars that resume to the full
splendor of light and decoration as new.
The beam of glowing energy released the Prince from its grip. As he fell
to the floor and looked around, a boot kicked out to his head and knocked
him down. The girl in black ran off.
----------------------------------------------
YOU GAIN
R E C A L L
This power lets you turn back time to a period
when you were safe
----------------------------------------------
It seemed to be the same chamber room, but now very different. He could
not explain it. No sign of ruin or decay, all brightly lit with candles
and torches. He turned back between the four pillars, their tile symbols
here brightly illuminated. Ahead lay the doorway with its curtain of
water.
He paused at a now pristine fountain basin and tried to make sense of the
circumstance.
"It seems I have discovered one of the time-traveling portals the Old Man
spoke of."
-- FIRST STEPS IN THE PAST ----------------------------------------------
Whatever lay beyond this portal he must chase down the girl in black. She
could explain this. He steeled himself and left the portal chamber
through the curtain of water.
Torches now lighted the passage beyond. Where daylight streamed before
only thin rays penetrated at slits. As he rounded the first corner he
heard traps spring into action. Here again were the twin spiked poles,
now fully operational in their deadly intent, spinning back and forth
across his path, raising dust as they whipped round and round. He stepped
carefully by and found a second hazard at the turn. Wall blades had
become active, buzzing relentlessly up and down either side of a pit of
spikes. Across it, a Raider waited; it seemed that this Past bore no
better welcome from its inhabitants than the Present he left behind. He
observed each rise and fall of the saw blade and judged the moment to run
over on the wall. The lone sentry offered little sport. With a few
acrobatic jumps the Prince grabbed it and snatched its weapon, which he
then tossed in its ugly face.
"I can't beat him alone," groaned the dying creature.
He came presently to a chamber of decorated pillars and high balconies.
In its now complete state he could scarcely recognize it as the room he
had entered by the hanging red curtain. What had been open to the skies
was here fully roofed, the bottomless pit in front covered by stone
floor. A number of Raiders waited on it.
"Stop the intruder," one commanded, "Destroy him!"
He moved swiftly, breaking their rash attack. At the center of the room
was a short column that he could use to spin and slash as he went, and
the many stone blocks and pillars proved useful as foundation for flying
lunges. A weapon rack standing to one side was easily smashed, yielding a
convenient projectile. He was learning new tricks and methods of dealing
with the inhuman foe as he went, and relished each opportunity for
combat.
"Honor and glory shall be ours," one creature declared.
"You should be honored to die by my sword," he replied.
When he had peace the Prince made further exploration. Opposite the door
at which he entered was another, though solidly shut. To one side of the
room was a screen of latticed arched windows but no way to the room
beyond. A high wall switch caught his eye. He looked up around the
balconies to find a route to it but saw no easy access. He remembered
that he had once climbed up on a pillar, but there was no convenient
fallen block to mount this time. Beside his entrance, a slender column
looked easily climbable and proved so. He jumped back to a ledge on a
pillar.
Up on the balcony, a simple wall run brought him to a ledge around a
square plinth, atop which sat another stern carved likeness of a Griffin.
It seemed an important figure to whatever manner of inhabitants dwelt
here. Around a short section of walkway beyond this he came to a sudden
edge. The wall switch was set just beyond, a far distance from the ground
below. Seeing a long hanging curtain an equal distance beyond gave him an
idea. He took up his courage and ran out, over the switch, onto the
curtain and down, his sword at the ready as before. He fell safe to the
floor and ran quickly to the side and rolled under the now open gate. It
clanged shut behind him.
He was in the open once again. He looked up to leaden skies. Steps led
down to a short bridge. By a circular design at its center he recognized
it as the place he first encountered the Crow Master in his own time. He
needed to keep his bearings. Intent on arriving at the Fortress Entrance
he could not afford to wander aimlessly. An open doorway faced him;
rotating spiked pole traps close within. A glance about showed two
slender columns in the distance to one side, and a colonnade in the
other. Looking up, he observed Raiders on a terrace above it pacing as
sentries. He had no desire for unnecessary exertion. He made his way in
past the fast spinning poles.
Around a corner a similarly spinning spiked log rose and fell in a groove
across his path. He chose his moment to tumble beneath and forward to a
corner. Here, two more poles spun in opposition, at one point meeting
then dividing, leaving sufficient space at that moment to dodge through.
Such slight injury as clumsiness or hesitation had earned was soon mended
in a draft out of a nearby water fountain.
-- THE FORTRESS REBUILT -------------------------------------------------
He ran on into the next passage. Guttural cries could be heard as from
nowhere appeared two tall slender beings, gliding rapidly from side to
side in black swirling clouds, of no greater substance than a mere
silhouette. Should he stand at one place they cast short daggers, one on
another, knocking him back in a multiple assault. Though he blocked with
his sword, should he try to attack in an instant they vanished and
reappeared nearby to assault him afresh.
"I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere," one hissed.
They could as easily glide straight through him, knocking him hard to the
ground. To determine his strategy the Prince ran for such cover as he
could find.
"Poor Prince," came an echoing taunt. "Seems you're just out of reach."
He didn't take kindly to having deadly objects thrown at his person.
Choosing a moment when the assault died down, he stepped into view and
hurled his own secondary weapon. It cartwheeled through the air and
caught a direct hit on one ghastly apparition. With a choked gurgle its
head parted from its shoulders. The other redoubled its efforts.
"Just like your own shadow, Prince, you'll never be free of me."
Finding the numbers now more to his liking, the Prince dashed forward to
strike with his sword. He landed a few heavy blows that made their mark
but the hellish creature was swift.
"Don't you know, Prince?" it mocked, "You can't kill a shadow."
A furious hail of blades caught the Prince unawares and he retreated to
the safety of the passage once again. Here was a weapon rack, which he
split with his sword to claim another blade. He hurled this at the second
shadowy foe and as with the other the touch of flying steel proved
enough. It similarly collapsed and disappeared in a puff of foul dust.
The Prince claimed a blade from the trace left behind.
These Silhouettes had been set to guard access to a steep flight of
steps. The Prince fancied them somewhat familiar, and as he looked up he
saw the magnificent fortress, its gates now wide open. Proud banners
fluttered all down either side. He had reached his goal, now accessible.
He was certain the girl in black was already within, and certain too that
she would lead him to her mistress, the Empress of Time. Eagerly he made
his way up, hearing soon angry voices.
"Help me with this." Then another, shouting: "Finish him!"
Raiders swarmed down the steps to repel the invader. He engaged the
frontrunners and heard as he fought the familiar harsh roar of a shadow
creature such as the two he had recently defeated. To his satisfaction,
in its blind rage to assault the Prince with showers of knives, this
apparition was as likely to damage any Raider between. With this
unwitting assistance he soon cleared them all, and in a moment cast a
spare weapon to the direction of the raging Silhouette, slicing it to
extinction at first touch. In triumph he entered the mighty fortress.
Up a flight of steps he encountered a vicious sword trap. A blade sprang
from a rotating drum, swishing at a height and a rate that required a
judicious wall run or a tumble roll beneath to pass safely. At its reach,
a deadly pit of spikes. The Prince jumped expertly to a ledge on the
other side, and up to another, though broken. From this he reached up to
a third, and passed hand over hand along the wall at its extent, dust
crumbling at his fingers. He dropped down upon other ledges to a leap
back to a parallel passage. A lone Raider was made aware of the folly of
standing in his way. This passage housed two more rotating drum blades,
quite easily passed under at a roll or above on the wall close beside. He
looked around the last corner to a vast room beyond.
This was the Central Hall to the fortress of the Island of Time. Light
came from windows set high above, and too from a dozen flickering bowls
of yellow fire suspended from the ceiling on long chains, swaying in the
light breeze about the vast open space. Towering pillars flanked sculpted
niches, a spout of water pouring steadily at the center of each. A large
doorway faced his entrance, and others could be seen set into the walls
either side, albeit with no obvious means of access. Huge blocks of stone
were set round about an irregular central platform, cracked and ruined.
On this paced a number of Raiders.
"Stop the intruder!" A repeated command: "He's the one the Empress wants
dead."
Now very well practiced, the Prince finished them easily and examined the
platform on which he then stood alone. At its center was a shallow
circular niche, a smaller circular depression inside. On two sides of
this were set carved motifs, one a depiction of a gear cog and the other
what might have been the symbol of water. Their significance could not be
guessed. Flanking this decoration, four slender columns rose to the
ceiling high above. These were bound on the floor by a decorative edge
that reached back to a curious device; a small stone sculpture that had
the appearance of a rose. The Prince observed a slot at its crown. Again,
speculation as to its purpose would have been fruitless.
He hopped over a gap to the large doorway. Through bars he saw stairs
protected by traps. He would have to find some way to pass within but the
gates here were as yet firmly shut. After refreshment at a water fountain
beside, he returned to the central platform.
He looked over the edge. Mist rose from the bottomless depths. At one
side an initially promising set of tall column blocks proved too
difficult to climb. A second set at the opposite edge gave easier access.
Turning to the slender columns at the center of the platform, from this
height he jumped easily one to the next to land atop the first set of
tall blocks. At this level he could see a balcony over the door he had
entered. Another doorway led off it. A wall run and leap back brought him
standing before it.
A guard Raider ran silently forward to meet his death. At a corner
inside, spinning spiked poles broke his rhythm only a little across a
series of spike pits. The Prince dropped into the floor at the passage
end. A ladder led him to a waiting Raider, unprepared it seemed for
attack from above. Twin poles ground up and down to a spike pit ahead but
the Prince passed easily over them. Again, the small effort belied the
impossibility of passage that another man might face. A ladder at a drop
presented the minor obstruction of sweeping spiked logs in his path but
he slid down at a carefully judged moment. Though Raiders came now in
pairs he was yet undeterred.
"I have more important matters to attend to," he declared.
Through the following passage, light curls of smoke tumbled from a
hanging bowl overhead to lick about the floor. Partly obscured, the
Prince did not notice rows of small holes set into the stone tiles under
his feet as he stepped forward. Puffs of dust rose, and at a moment steel
blades shot out from each hole. He picked up his feet to run fast in
front, each deadly trap sprung by his tread, yet not swift enough to
catch him as he ran on. He steadied his nerve at a water basin safe
beyond reach of the last row of tiles.
-- CHASING THE GIRL IN BLACK --------------------------------------------
Before him the passage led on, with more telltale spike traps laid across
the floor and a spiked log grinding up and down at the middle. He ran as
surely as before and tumbled beneath, rolling on to a turn in the
passage. Here, groaning back and forth, a whole series of spiked poles,
which at a cautious dash he slipped in between, to arrive at an open
doorway.
In a large room of tall pillars beyond, the girl in black ran off at his
approach. Weapons in hand she stopped in a far doorway, looked back to
the Prince with a raised eyebrow and a mocking smile, then disappeared
through a then firmly shut gate. Very high above it the Prince saw a
hanging lever. The girl's running footsteps receded.
"I'd best find that woman," thought the Prince, walking out on a platform
into the room. "She's probably gone for reinforcements."
Such reinforcements were already at hand. As the Prince stepped forward
unaware, a Raider hid flat behind a nearby pillar. Another crept up onto
the platform edge. The Prince sensed the danger, but was first faced by a
cruel caricature female creature dropping beside him, dressed in crimson
and armed with a slicing ring of sharpened steel. This hellcat danced
acrobatically about the Prince as he turned to fight her away, and
gleefully took first opportunity to fling her legs about his neck as she
dealt him a vicious swipe with her blade.
"Pain is exquisite," she mocked. "I commend you."
The brutal Raiders clubbed him as he stumbled under her attack, and these
were joined in their murderous endeavor by a gliding Silhouette, flinging
its blades in volleys as before. The Prince found it not unhelpful to
place a slow-witted enemy between himself and this assailant, that its
weapons might find other targets. He concentrated on turning to strike
the Blade Dancer where she appeared swiftly beside him. He needed to be
quick to match her direction.
"I'm not here to hurt you," she lied, with a pout. "Can't we talk this
out?"
He had few words to exchange but his blade spoke for him. At length he
gained peace from all.
He ran first along the carpeted platform to the door through which the
girl in black vanished. Firmly shut though with the fortress symbol upon
it. There had to be a corresponding switch somewhere. He looked upwards,
at a network of balconies and high ledges. Perhaps that hanging lever up
there? There seemed no better alternative. To one side of his platform a
low block gave first means of access. Reaching up, he grabbed hold of a
metal bar and set himself on a swing, reaching out to clutch onto a
higher bar. From this he moved hand over hand to face a platform balcony.
A Raider hurried from an alcove, where bars dropped behind, to wait his
arrival. Swinging swiftly across, the Prince removed that small obstacle
with a curt instruction.
"Return from where you came."
The passage off this balcony was indeed barred shut but a thin stone beam
led off to another platform. The Prince balanced out carefully along it.
Ahead waited more Raiders. One urged its confederate to action.
"Let's get this over with quickly."
"A human!" the other agreed. "No match for us."
The Prince was not minded to argue.
Once cleared, he found this platform balcony similarly barred at its
entrance, and made use of more metal bars and a wooden jetty to ascend to
another above it. Though seemingly empty, as the Prince jumped onto this
higher balcony he was joined by a Blade Dancer. The Prince exercised some
little restraint in analyzing her unwelcome advances. She was truly swift
in dealing her attack, which was at least easily blocked. The Prince
found she was even swifter in changing position when he moved to strike
back. Again and again he found himself slashing at air, till he learned
to match her acrobatic leaps with a sudden change of his own, cutting
behind him as soon as he turned, catching her unaware on her landing. Of
no use whatever his own tactic of vaulting a likely opponent, since she
simply blocked and cast him on his back at every attempt. With patience
and timing he soon got the better of her.
With a moment to reflect he looked about. He was now at the very height
of the room and once again a possible exit was barred. There was no other
way on but to hang over the side of the balcony rail to leap off to a
slender arch beam. He grappled onto it, sending dust showering to the
floor far below. Once again he balanced precariously along to face a
matching corner balcony, this being not unexpectedly guarded. At least,
he could see that a Raider waited on it, but was perhaps taken slightly
off guard by the Silhouette that appeared in a flash to assist. Both were
soon given equal dispatch. A hanging red banner gave the only means of
departure off this high balcony, it being as solidly barred as the rest.
He deftly hopped over the edge, to jump back onto the banner and begin
his ingenious descent, though he had to be mindful of a long gap to the
floor on its ending. He leaped off at a point to come safe to a deserted
platform below. As with the others, a slender beam led off it.
On this one a Blade Dancer dropped swiftly to challenge his progress.
Blade drawn, she slid along the beam towards him.
"Poor Prince," she murmured seductively. "Come to me."
He could easily resist the Siren call but he came to her anyway, that he
might deal a lethal blow.
"Ah, you like the pain, don't you? Come closer, Prince," she commanded.
"I want to taste my victory."
As he balanced his way out on the beam, the Blade Dancer sprang lightly
towards him. This was the domain of the gymnastic harlot and he was at a
severe disadvantage. Though he attempted to block, she slashed swiftly
and the Prince fell aside, clutching desperately to the edge of the beam.
The Blade Dancer somersaulted away, enjoying her sport.
"Oh yes, this position suits you," she purred. "Submit!"
He scrambled back up, ready to match her this time. As she sprang forward
he jumped up in an acrobatic move of his own, avoiding her slash, and
came down and slashed back. Catching her off guard he connected and she
sailed off the beam and vanished in a haze of sandy dust. This lesson
could prove useful; he sheathed his blade in satisfaction and moved on.
Balancing to the end of the long beam he ran off to a platform. Another
Blade Dancer appeared.
"Don't you know not to strike a woman?"
Indeed he did, yet these vile caricatures had only the appearance of
feminine form. He struck away. Still the wicked creation poured cruel
innuendo.
"I commend you," she moaned. "There's so much pleasure in pain."
He had heard enough. Turning each time to meet her direction, he dealt on
the vile travesty of a woman a succession of blows. Color drained from
her body, now shrouded in thin trails of sand. On a few more she was
gone. The Prince hurried to reach on a low jetty overhead. Dust fell as
he scrambled on top, then flung himself sideways to another. In a similar
display of acrobatics as before, he jumped sideways off a wall and up to
a third. To one side a last balcony, like the others at opposite corners
very high above the ground. He leaped to it.
A Silhouette materialized, supported by another Blade Dancer. He had the
measure of them both and these were soon gone. Off this balcony was a
rounded arch, with a barred gate, which although partly broken was
solidly in place. Behind it the Prince noted a decorative wooden crate.
An unusual object to be so well protected behind bars of steel so high
above the ground. Standing there for a moment the Prince observed thin
vapor tumbling from above. Looking up he saw an arched entrance in one
wall in the space above, but no means whatever to reach it. He marked the
spot, somehow certain of its significance. He saw close by the hanging
lever he had spotted from the ground, and decided to deal with that
first.
Once more a nimble hop from the balcony rail had him hanging with his
back to a decorative beam. He sprang backwards and clambered up. In a
second another Blade Dancer confronted him. He performed his 'jump up and
slash down' routine and got full marks for execution. He balanced out to
the lever. Standing at the prow of a jetty midway along the beam, he
reached up to activate it. Directly below, the door the girl in black had
taken opened at his weight. Dropping off, he jumped ahead to a very long
hanging curtain and sailed to the ground to stand before the open door.
In triumph he made his way through.
A stone staircase led down to a drop into a murky spike pit. A trap for
the unwary perhaps but of little concern to him. A convenient hanging
banner allowed him to slip down to a point where he leaped off to a stone
jetty. Catching his balance on this he made a short jump to another, and
crossed to a third on the wall opposite. Motes of dust hung in the dank
fetid air. He jumped off a last jetty to a floor of spike tiles, on which
dust stirred as blades readied to sprout. Too late to impede the nimble
Prince. He ran on to take refreshment at a fountain.
-- A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS -------------------------------------------------
Bright lanterns beckoned him up a short staircase through a low doorway
ahead.
On his first steps he saw, high above, a retracting stone platform. Upon
it stood a sinister figure, garbed in black and carrying a sword, staring
down at him as it was carried out of sight. As he considered this, the
Prince heard the clash of steel and sounds of a struggle. He hurried up
the steps. On a raised platform at the center of the room two women
fought hand-to-hand.
It was the girl in black, locked in combat with a beautiful female with
long black hair and green eyes, dressed nearly in red flowing gown
slashed to the thigh, and high boots. She gripped her attacker in a
desperate embrace and looked to the Prince.
"You," her entreaty, "Help me!"
The Prince did not know what to make of the struggle but he still had a
score to settle with the girl in black.
"It is as they say: 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'"
As he made his decision the woman in red was thrown off the platform,
tumbling with a cry as she clung to the edge. A black leather boot poised
to grind down on the hand of the helpless woman.
"Leave her alone!" cried the Prince. "You and I have unfinished
business."
The cruel vixen turned with a sneer. Seeing her about to stamp down, the
Prince rushed forward to draw her away.
"You have two choices," she warned him, "Run or die."
The third alternative to hand, the Prince laid in a few strokes then
backed off, too well aware of her lightning response. The she-devil dealt
out towards him her familiar combination of strokes.
"I am not impressed," the Prince responded.
He took his moment again, after her double raised thrust and single
slash, to reply.
"This is just the beginning," she assured him. "Flee while it's still an
option, fool."
Again she spanked her hip with the flat of her blade in a mocking
gesture.
"I have no time for this," he said.
He leapt in at his chosen moment, sending her back in a fury.
"Is this the best you have to offer?" she spat.
They locked as before with blades at each other's throat. Finding her
surprisingly strong, the Prince summoned all his strength to force her
back.
"You call yourself a master swordsman?"
"Dust to dust," he replied. "This is going to hurt you far more than it's
going to hurt me."
Yet he must keep his wits sharp. She had added a dangerous trick to her
repertoire since last they had fought. Once able to block her attack at
his leisure, the Prince now found that should he stand close, the girl
kicked suddenly with the full force of her boot, sending him skating
backwards across the surface of the platform, winded at its edge. He knew
he could not long sustain that much damage.
With her bothersome interruption subdued, the girl turned her attention
back to her female prey. The Prince shook himself together to rush to her
aid, drawing the attacker away yet again. He kept respectful distance
now, ready to flip backwards as the powerful kick came, and was swift to
lunge in as she left herself open.
They locked weapons once more. The Prince could sense he had the
advantage, and threw her off again. Yet she was contemptuous as ever.
"Tell me when you're going to be ready to fight for real."
"I grow tired of this," he responded. "You aren't worth my time."
Again they circled, she clanging and striking her sword to the ground at
his feet, tempting him to a rash move. He held firm, warily watching for
that deadly blow off her boot while blocking her furious two-sword
assault. He jumped over her then, knocking her back.
For the third time they locked. The girl now screamed out in fury.
"You have no place on this island. Do you really think you can defeat
me?"
"You'll have to do better than that," he suggested as he resumed the
attack. "I will not allow you to stand in my way."
Bit by bit he wore her down. On a sudden blow she reeled backwards.
"How?" she panted furiously, "How can this have happened?"
As the savage girl was thrown to the floor he raised his sword high and
them plunged it hard down, driving her clean through. The weapon fell
from her black-gloved hand. He stood for a moment and thought of what he
had done. Her life or his. A cry from the woman still hanging from the
edge brought him to his senses. He hurried to her, grasped her arms and
pulled her to safety. With no word of thanks she stalked off.
"Wait!" he called after her. "Please, I must speak with you."
"What do you want from me?"
"I seek an audience with the Empress."
With a hollow laugh she replied, "The Empress meets with no one. Who do
you think you are?"
"I am the Prince of Persia."
She considered this, arms akimbo. "I see." Then announced, "Today is a
very important day. She cannot be disturbed."
"I don't think you understand how important this is."
From the bloody floor nearby, the mortally wounded girl in black stirred.
"Fool!" she said. "Don't you know?"
The woman in red and the Prince stood transfixed at the painfully forced
words.
"You cannot change your fate."
In a flash of yellow light, the girl collapsed and disappeared. Shielding
his eyes, the Prince turned from the woman now clinging to him.
"'You cannot change your fate'... Was she speaking to me?" he wondered.
"How could she know my mission?"
At that moment a part of the ceiling gave way, creaking and crumbling
from the shock of the energy explosion on the girl in black's demise.
Masonry and dust rained down, blocks crashed to the platform beside them.
As a larger section of the roof collapsed, they moved as one.
"Watch out!" the Prince yelled, flinging the woman aside. She cried out,
masonry falling between them, knocking out the stone steps. Dust cleared.
"Stay there!" the Prince called down. "I will find my way to you."
"No, Prince," she coolly replied. "Leave this place and never return. The
Empress has no love for the world of men. She will kill you if she learns
of your presence."
She walked away, leaving the Prince to consider all that he had seen.
He followed a trail of dried blood up nearby stone steps to a candlelit
rotunda, and noticed upon the floor there a grooved channel leading down
to the platform below. By its color and appearance the groove seemed at
one time to have been filled with blood. He realized with horror that
this entire structure was a Sacrificial Altar to some unknown purpose. Up
here was a sculpted block with a metal bar on it that might serve as a
handle. He gave his weight to the bar and dragged the block backwards
along the groove. A door rumbled behind. He went to investigate.
Down a narrow flight of stone steps he came on a passage. At the far end
he observed two spiked poles grinding back and forth in opposition across
his path. Set into the floor leading up to them, a carpet of hidden spike
traps. Should he align himself with one wall and wait for the nearest
pole to touch the opposite wall, he judged that he could run across at
that very moment. The pole seemed to travel to meet him but moved away as
his dash across the sudden sprouting spikes brought him safely past.
Without pause he slipped past the second pole before it too returned. He
looked now along a similar passage of spike traps. In this, a horizontal
spinning log rolled relentlessly upwards and down almost to the floor. A
turret sword swished just beyond. The Prince began his run as the log
neared the bottom of its travel, his dash close to one wall bringing him
safely beneath and ready to tumble expertly under the sword as it slashed
close over his head. He caught his breath at the safety of a corner. Such
fiendish devices as these had surely been set to guard something very
special, and he was determined to discover what it might be. The next
hazard was a spinning saw blade midway along a spike pit, which the
Prince crossed with a wall run timed as the blade passed near halfway
down. As he landed the Prince executed a roll, passing over another
spiked floor and under a rotating blade. Taking a second pause for breath
in a corner he saw now a large symbol, dimly glowing red on a far wall at
the darkened end of the passage. That surely was his goal, and the
sequence of deadly traps an impossible obstacle to it for all not so
daring or agile as he. Yet still he was not there. A spiked pole moved
towards him over an inevitable carpet of spike tiles. The Prince readied
himself on its approach and followed it over the traps. As these started
to sprout, he tumbled and tumbled, passing under the moving log and a
second one vertically scything behind. He sustained but slight injury in
this.
With a certainty he could not explain, he knew what he had to do. The
Prince carried on his leather breastplate an Amulet (a precious gift),
waiting only sufficient charge from a mysterious force to unlock its
power. He snapped it from its mount and placed it on a recess at the
center of the red glowing device, seemingly made for that purpose. The
configuration of the device changed in mechanical operation. The Prince
retrieved his Amulet, which pulsed in brilliant radiance. As he snapped
it back to his breastplate a fiery ball of energy swept him up, holding
him locked in its grip, his back arched, hands held outstretched, eyes
aglow with intense blue light. He was wracked with a sudden spasm and
dropped to a ring burst of light, at which he became released, unharmed.
----------------------------
YOU GAIN
L I F E U P G R A D E
As the Health bar increases
the Prince becomes stronger
----------------------------
The Prince stood before the symbol, the strange device now glowing dull
red at its core. Wisps of vapor curled about him. He could not comprehend
what had happened but he felt his energies renewed, strength fully
recovered. He prepared himself for the perilous journey back past the
traps in the passage, but as he turned to leave, the legion of deadly
devices behind him became inactive, the logs retracting into the walls,
the sword drums to the floor, and the spike tiles no longer triggered by
the pressure of his feet. Their purpose defeated, these deadly traps no
longer had cause to guard what lay beyond. He returned gratefully along
the now silent passage to the Sacrificial Altar.
The falling masonry had created a platform on one side, which he mounted
to face a wall pillar with thin decorative ledges. Jumping easily to one,
he edged around a squared pillar to see a metal pole protruding from one
wall. He swung easily from this to another wall pillar, with another
ledge, off which he jumped back to the first. With his athletic ability
he seemed always to navigate a sure route beyond any obstacle. Though
broken on top by the recent destruction, the ledge around this pillar
held firm as he edged to another wall pole, a second directly above. An
agile bound off a wall saw him hanging from this, where he made sure to
twist his body to face the direction of a last pillar top, that he might
grasp a firm hold and not spin fatally to thin air.
On this high pillar top he glanced up to see a rope hanging against the
wall just above his head. He reached to grab its end. Using this rope to
set himself swinging as a pendulum he gained enough momentum to release
and run across the wall to grab a stone jetty further along. Dust
crumbled but it held firm. From this he jumped down to find a basin at
which to refresh himself.
-- FATE'S DARK HAND -----------------------------------------------------
He came to the end of a broken walkway. He was still some distance from
the vaulted ceiling, and looked down to the altar far below. He dropped
to a broken stone beam just beneath, and made a bold leap to the matching
part of it, where a flaming lantern on a chain hung under. On one wall
between was set a very large carved symbol, which he had begun to
recognize at intervals everywhere, a motif of triangles carved in a
nearly closed circle. He moved on around column ledges to balance out on
the thin edge of a carved stone animal whose mouth served as a spout to
send water pouring to the depths below, as various spouts did about the
room everywhere. He jumped back to a wall pillar with another thankfully
solid ledge. A wall bar served as an intermediate to another carved
waterspout, and a ledge with a niche in the wall above allowed him to
shimmy to a high balcony.
Over a block plinth against the wall was another rope, which he climbed
fully to turn and face a hanging lever. Jumping to it caused two tall
wooden shutters on the wall nearby to close. He realized they had else
blocked his path. Setting himself at a swing, he returned with a jump to
the hanging rope. He slid down and back to the platform beneath. Looking
to one side he could easily run across the now closed shutters and reach
another stone platform beyond. Here hung another rope, and the Prince
used it to swing this time to a walkway.
Candlelit recesses and a flickering torch in a stand lit a rank of spike
tiles set in one corner. Above these a wall switch. It seemed to serve
little purpose, merely activating the wickedly sharpened spikes beneath,
which thankfully receded on his landing. He made his way into a nearby
chamber and no sooner had the chance to ponder its emptiness than a red-
garbed Blade Dancer swooped down close behind him, followed swiftly by
another and another and another. Taken unawares the Prince barely shook
them back before he was surrounded and at risk of terrible punishment
from their lightning attack. An idea struck him then and he moved quickly
outside and onto the spiked tiles. The stealthy assassins appeared beside
him and gathered close to deal their devil's handiwork as he had
anticipated, and with a brisk run up over the wall switch then every one
was skewered in a flash. He gathered the power of their residual Sand and
with grim satisfaction headed back inside the now silent chamber.
This was an octagonal space, set with pillared alcoves. Glancing up, the
Prince saw the light of a high exit and bars across the width of the room
that might lead to it. Ledges on one wall gave access to these. Swinging
from one to another, he turned about and up to a third. He swung easily
through a section of open wall.
He was in a short featureless platform room, a few pots scattered to one
side as elsewhere through the fortress. He recognized on the floor in
front of him spike trap tiles, and ran quickly forward to a wall and up
to the safety of a ledge. Another above gave height to jump backwards to
a bar, where turning once again he rebounded off the wall to spring up to
another. Turning yet again, he jumped off to a ledge. Creaking and
groaning above his head in its relentless course was a spiked log. The
Prince shuffled to one corner as far as he could go and judged he might
leap to a second ledge at the same height behind him against one wall.
This lay directly under the sweep of the spiked log. He timed exactly his
moment and scrambled to his feet on the ledge, where without hesitation
he jumped backwards and grabbed the narrow ledge just barely as the
spinning log returned. He dropped swiftly beneath it and shuffled to
safety the other side.
Here the passage continued, bright lit and crudely decorated with a
frieze of ancient figures. Around a corner a deep pit, its wall protected
by a familiar buzzing saw blade. He ducked beneath as he ran out to grab
hold of a convenient hanging rope. A second rope on the opposite side of
the pit was easily reached off it. Lowering himself to the very end of
this, the Prince judged that he could work enough distance and momentum
to run off to the end of the spike pit, with the minor consideration of a
second buzzing blade in his path. He ran out on its upward travel and
passed safe beneath.
After this he thought little of traversing the course of four spiked
spinning poles, two of which were at station and two traveled. He slipped
easily between with the slightest pause. Ahead he saw the bright sheen of
water such as he had found at the doorway to a portal chamber when in
pursuit of the girl in black. As he might have hoped, at his entrance
through this the Prince discovered a separate chamber of identical
design. He noticed immediately that glowing liquid did not flow from any
pillar. The floor spiral was dark.
"The portal no longer works!" he realized. "Something is wrong."
He needed to restore the flow of molten sand to the spiral at the center
of the portal, and to do that he had to reset the pillar switches.
He had come to recognize the square tiles with the distinctive symbol as
switches, be they set into the floor or high on a wall as these were. He
knew the means to trigger them and found it less of an effort than an
ordinary man would, yet as the Prince ran up over one switch it flickered
briefly but did not seem to activate. He tried another. This stayed fully
lit and a thin stream of liquid poured into the channel at his feet. He
tried the next. Alas, this merely flickered as the first and now he found
that the previous switch had returned to dark. He reset it and followed
with a different switch. This lit up and the first switch remained
illuminated. It was clear that the four switches had to be set in
sequence, and any deviation would cause the sequence to be reset and need
starting again. A little trial and error found the right order to keep
all four switches lit, and on this he observed a very river of white-hot
sand flow from each column and along grooved channels in the floor to the
spiral out on the platform. He ran to its eye.
Vision blurred. All around the chamber grew darkness and decay, as thick
rooted vegetation gripped pillars and covered walls, which fell instantly
to ruin. The work of years in a few passing seconds.
----------------------------------------------
YOU GAIN
E Y E O F T H E S T O R M
This power slows down time for everything
except you. You gain a speed advantage
for a few seconds
----------------------------------------------
Released from the grip of the Time vortex, the Prince falls to his feet.
The portal chamber is gray and decayed, its decoration withered, roof
open to the night sky. Steam rises from the still flowing sand in the
spiral of the platform, wall switches are still aglow. All else is ruin,
though water yet runs in basins near the portal entrance. He heads to the
door, satisfied that he has returned to his own time.
"Good, I seem to be back in the Present. At least I know how these
portals work."
Through the curtain of water, the passage beyond has been rebuilt in an
unfamiliar configuration. Fresh traps are evidently very much active:
hidden spike tiles and two spinning poles. He passes easily at the right
moment and edges onto a thin wall ledge. He drops down to another and
moves around a narrow passage, drops to a block platform and wall runs to
another. Here he descends ledges to the floor. Rubble lies strewn about,
and through a broken wall he sees a switch on the floor with a familiar
blood red symbol upon it.
It sets open a door at the end of the passage here, yet as he runs to go
through it, the door grinds shut. Try as he may the Prince cannot get
there in time. A thought strikes him. His treasured Amulet has long been
filled with as much sand as it can hold; yet until his visit to the
hidden device off the Sacrificial Altar in this place in the Past, it
held no power. Perhaps his passage through the Time portal has bestowed a
residual effect? He steps on the floor switch once more and indeed, at a
press of a button he summons the Eye of the Storm. Time slows to a crawl
but the Prince moves swift as ever. He races along the passage and dives
under the closing door before the effect wears away.
In the short passage beyond stand two Raiders, unaware of the whirlwind
bearing down on them. They move in slow motion, powerless to defend the
blows raining down on them. As Time reverts its normal course, the pair
are vanished to yellow dust.
"How can this happen?" a dying complaint.
"You should have fled when you had the chance."
The Prince looks down through a hole to the room below. All seems quiet.
He drops down. On a sudden noise he ducks down behind a block. At a
barred wall across the room appears a demonic creature of deepest black,
huge and hideously horned, its eyes holes of burning white light. With a
roar it smashes effortlessly through the wall, blasting the bars and the
blocks they are set in to the floor far below. The beast scans ominously
about the room. Seeing nothing, it departs.
The Prince rises to his feet. What manner of creature is this? The Old
Man spoke of an unstoppable beast, the Dahaka, guardian of the Timeline.
Was that what he had seen? He had best take care but he would not be
swayed from his course. He must find again the woman in red. Through her
he might gain an audience with the Empress of Time.
He runs out on a wall to a stump of branch that has rooted from a crack.
He jumps to a second and from there to a rope that hangs on a wall. He
drops to its end, sets himself on a swing and jumps to a pole from the
wall, on to a branch, then ahead to a stone platform. A jetty off this
gives on to a straight sturdy branch, which he just barely clutches to
drag himself up. Though nearly overbalancing he makes a leap to a pillar
at the center of the room. He clings and shimmies to put his back to a
long decorative banner off a matched pillar facing. He slips easily down
with assistance of his blade, sure to spin off before its end where he
lands on a twisted metal strut.
At floor level the Prince sees a number of Raiders, as yet unaware of his
approach. He jumps to a twisted branch not far over their heads, and a
few careful shuffles and a leap bring him to a platform close by.
"Stop the intruder!" a harsh instruction calls.
Others have tried and others failed, as the Prince knew these must. He
leaps to a lower platform where the Raiders crowd around. As he lays in
with his sword, Blade Dancers drop swiftly to bolster the attack and he
is nearly overwhelmed.
"Destroy him," one cries. "You have no place on this island."
He moves quickly, spreading his attack to the most pressing target but
this is hard combat and no sustenance to hand. He summons once more the
Eye of the Storm. All enemies are slowed to a blur; the Prince moves one
to another and finishes all.
"Taste my blade," he offers.
Yet on a moment two more leaping assassins descend.
"You have two choices," instructs one. "Run or die."
He decides there is a third option and hits the demonic gymnasts hard.
One vanishes to blood and dust, the other circles near. The Prince flings
his smaller weapon to catch the creature off balance then bounds forward
to slash it to silence.
"Pain is exquisite," she moans. "I commend you."
Eager to please, the Prince deals out more. The platform clear, he moves
on.
A block ledge brings him to the foot of a pillar and an apparent halt.
Looking up, he sees a cranny he might grab on to if he can rise up to it.
He prepares for exertion and runs up to gain momentum and jumps back off
the wall. At the instant his feet touch the pillar he jumps back to the
wall, and then back to the pillar, and back to the wall, rising a little
on each jump. He grabs the cranny and hangs, catching his breath. A
backwards leap sees him clinging to the wall a little higher, then he is
off once again, back and forth between pillar and wall like a chimney,
rising to grab hold of a decorative edge on the pillar near its top. He
moves around the pillar, not looking down, and springs off to a long
branch that pokes from the wall. He now faces the hole rent by the
Dahaka. He must face the unknown and follow in its step, there being no
other exit from the room of perilous jumps. A leap to a ledge just
beneath the blasted hole and he is in.
A water basin offers the chance for full refreshment. If that beast is
after him, the Prince will surely need all his abilities. He looks in the
direction taken by the creature but finds only damage and a dead end to
the passage. At the other, a leap over a pit and the Prince is on a
balcony walkway outside.
The ground shakes ominously.
"The Dahaka!" the Prince's first instinct. "It has found me here."
In the passage behind him, the terrifying beast reappears. It advances
with menace.
"Where is he?" its distorted voice seems to demand.
The Prince takes to his heels. He runs along the open walkway, which
crumbles as heavy footsteps pound close behind. Leathery tentacles snake
through the solid stone walls as he passes, and reach ever closer. The
walkway has crumbled ahead but the Prince runs over the gap without
pause. Stone slabs slip to the floor behind as he lands on a last
section, turns to jump out on a pole, and on to another and another and
off through the air. He lands hard on a stone platform, and stumbles
across, looks back to his pursuer. With an angry roar it takes off
towards him, springing as a ball of fury to land hard on top. The Prince
dives at the last moment with a frantic wail, falls headlong through a
small gap to a passage where the Dahaka crashes mightily behind but
cannot reach.
Temporarily safe, the Prince hurries on. Barrels scarcely block his way
through a darkened passage. An open skylight, ceiling overgrown. A flight
of steps and a turn bring a meeting with a lone sentry, watching for an
intruder from outside it seems, not within. The Prince comes quietly
behind and decapitates the worthless creature. He hops down to a balcony
overlooking the rugged rock of the fortress foundations. A daring run out
on a wall and a leap off it bring the Prince to a tall barley-cane fluted
column. He climbs until he can leap off to another balcony. A waterfall
nearby plunges to unseen depths. From the balcony he looks down on the
place where he first met the Crow Master. He is nearing his goal.
Through an arched entrance is a metal walkway, and the Prince surveys a
familiar room at a higher level. He fought Raiders when last he came
through but now it is deserted. He runs off at one side to a hanging red
curtain, and slips down it to the floor. As on his previous visit, the
way forward is to ascend a crumbling pillar and cross a rubble-strewn
walkway for a wall run to a ledge. He negotiates the broken wall by
hanging off it and shimmying under. He drops down to the passage inside.
At this the Dahaka appears in the room he just left. The Prince takes off
at a run again, down the passage to the portal chamber. The Dahaka pounds
in pursuit. Without pause the Prince scampers across the gap in the floor
and on around the corner. With an involuntary wail he throws himself
through the portal doorway as leathery tentacles reach. The Dahaka lets
out an enraged roar and instantly withdraws its tentacles from the touch
of water, and bellows in fury at a standstill beyond.
"What's this?" the Prince realizes. "It cannot cross the water..."
A flowing curtain stream protects this portal doorway, as the other,
across its entirety. The Prince is grateful for some small advantage.
"This is certain to come in handy."
The portal is still active. He runs forward along the glowing rivulet and
steps onto the spiral at the end of the platform. As before he is borne
into the air and suspended as Time becomes distorted. In a flare of
brilliant light the ruined walls and columns return to their former glory
as decay and sinewy vegetation shrink back and disappear.
The Prince landed to ground and found himself once more in a pristine
Past.
-- A HELPING HAND -------------------------------------------------------
He turned to the doorway, thoughts grim.
"I have managed to lose the Dahaka - for now. Best I stay alert, it will
return. It always does."
Magenta drapes of transparent gauze drifted softly, lit by slow swinging
brass lanterns hung from the ceiling. Through the curtain of water the
Prince hastened to his planned rendezvous with the woman in red.
As he hurried down the now brightly lit passage beyond, he heard once
again the twin sliding pole traps activate, and duly slowed to slip
between them. Around a corner the spinning wall blades, as easily passed
over as before. There seemed no enemy Raiders in sight.
He came soon to the room of pillars and balconies. It was a vestibule of
some kind between the outside and the fortress within. As he entered he
came face to face, through bars into a room beyond, with the spectral
masked figure in black that had stared down at him from the retracting
platform above the Sacrificial Altar. It appeared startled at his
appearance, and snatched a weapon to hand. Up close it looked more
sinister yet, its garb nebulous tendrils that seemed to flow about its
body. He held its eye uncertain.
"What kind of beast is this?"
A savage one it seemed, as wordlessly, eyes aglow with an eerie light, it
hurled an axe towards him. He ducked on reflex as the missile spun close
by his shoulder. In an instant the creature made off.
A narrow escape. With no means of pursuit the Prince turned instead to
the slender pillar by the door where he entered, and nimbly scaled it as
before. From the balcony walkway he made his way over to the wall switch,
down the red banner, and through the door, rolling just as it clanged
shut behind.
He was outside, facing the passage to the Fortress Entrance. Pausing
before the passage door and its spinning spike poles, he recalled the
pacing Raider sentries on a terrace nearby. They paced still, and now,
better armed and equipped with the Eye of the Storm, he decided to see
what they made such a show of protecting.
At a low wall to one side he ascended to a grassy ledge, as he had done
to follow the Crow Master in his own time. As then, an upward wall run
was sufficient to spring back to grab the stone canopy of the passage
door beneath. On landing he attracted the attention of the Raiders close
by.
"Alert the others," came a synthetic voice. "He's the one the Empress
wants dead."
A short wall run allowed him to fall slashing on the first opponent.
Others ran to assist. The Prince somersaulted to a short column nearby
and in one fluid move decapitated two at a stroke. The last proved no
wiser.
"I have failed."
Nearby was a short flight of steps. As he made his way up the Prince
noticed to one side a floor switch, partly concealed behind barrels. He
jumped down to take a look. After clearing the obstruction he stepped on
the illuminated switch. From somewhere above came the sound of a door
sliding open. Hurrying up the steps, he was in time to see a slotted
grate low in the wall facing him slide shut. Beside this was a wall
switch. This proved to open not the slot but a main door nearby, yet
curiosity told him he had not finished here. Returning to the switch at
the bottom of the steps, on activation he summoned the Eye of the Storm
to slow Time. With the extra seconds this gave him he was able to run up
the steps to dive through the low opening at the foot of the wall. In a
moment Time flowed again and the slot slid firmly shut. The Prince was
inside.
In the passage ahead a rotating sword blade trap activated. Behind it a
massive stone block struck out at speed from one wall, flat across the
floor to the opposite wall, where it pounded hard and slid slowly back to
pound again. The whole floor appeared to be of spike tiles. These traps
had been set for a purpose and the Prince determined to discover it. He
stood and studied the rate of the pounding wall block. Just as it fired
out he began tumbling forward, over the spike traps and under the blade,
to pass by at a moment it slowly retracted, and safely on as it hammered
back out. He knew that a misjudgment would see him flattened to the wall.
At the next corner he saw the chance to repeat the feat through an
identical hazard with twin pounding blocks, and still a third beyond.
Taking refuge in a corner each time between, at safe radius from the
sword blades stationed there, he took his time and soon stood looking
past a last sword trap at another strange glowing red symbol set into the
wall at the passage end, such as he had seen at the Sacrificial Altar
secret passage before.
He slotted his Amulet into the center of the device, which set puffs of
flame from within as a hidden mechanism triggered. The device glowed
brilliant yellow and then white, and with a blinding flash charged his
Amulet for the second time. The Prince retrieved it and placed it to his
breastplate. Once again he was drawn into the air by a powerful force in
a burst of fire, and suddenly released, strengthened.
----------------------------
YOU GAIN
L I F E U P G R A D E
As the Health bar increases
the Prince becomes stronger
----------------------------
As before when he turned to leave he saw all traps retract, the sword
blades folded back into their drums, pounding blocks flush to the wall,
and spike tiles mercifully inactive. This made easy the return to the
slot entrance, where a simple wall switch allowed a rolled exit.
His curiosity rewarded, the Prince activated the adjacent wall switch and
headed to its raised door. He realized that this was the same place at
which he defeated the Crow Master in his own time. The slide to the floor
down a long thin red curtain in the room beyond was the same. He was back
in the vestibule, this time in company of a number of Raiders.
He was becoming well practiced in inventive means of dispatch. He ran
straight up a wall and performed a graceful back flip, falling with a
slash on a confounded victim as he landed. A short spindle column in the
center of the room was used as on the terrace shortly before to swing
round among three at once, and knock their empty heads clean off at a
stroke.
He made his way up to the balcony walkway, and via the Griffin ledge to
the next. Across the door switch he executed again his descent at the
curtain, which by now was very much tattered. In a moment he was back
down the steps, and across the small bridge at the passage to the
Fortress Entrance. This time he went in through the open doorway, where
the spiked poles in his path presented no major delay. A few dashes and
rolls brought him safely to a basin of water where he took refreshment
before pressing on.
Through a doorway beyond he heard as before the harsh insistent growl of
the Silhouette he had previously encountered there. Now more experienced,
the Prince simply cast his secondary weapon and sliced the apparition
cleanly in two. From the black cloud of its passing he scooped up a blade
to replace the one he had spent. He hurried to combat up the steep flight
of steps to the fortress itself.
He stayed on the steps to limit the direction of the Raiders rushing
attack. He well had the measure of these simple creatures by now.
"I grow tired of this," he said as he hacked the pack down.
"I fall, but more will rise to take my place," groaned their last.
"Avenge me, my brothers."
The Silhouette was as easily cut in two as his fellow, and died choking
blood. The Prince gained access through the Fortress Entrance once again,
and made his way to the Central Hall. This time he noticed the large
doorway opposite was open. The woman in red had already passed through.
Between him and his goal waited a Raider quartet. Combat was brief.
At the far end of the central platform the Prince made a jump out over
the bottomless chasm. Taking pause at the fountain there he prepared to
enter the passage beyond.
On first rounding of a corner he heard traps being activated. Over the
staircase before him two spiked logs, rising and falling, and beyond
these a rotating blade, all taken at a roll. At the next turn a spike
pit, crossed at a run between another pair of spiked logs, rising and
falling in opposition. At the far end of the pit another blade trap, now
almost routine. At the head of the staircase above, a wider spike pit and
two more spiked logs, one at station and a lower one coursing back and
forth along the pit length. Timing his moment the Prince ran out as the
log moved away, and sprang back off the wall to land on a narrow ledge.
He was perilously close to the path of the log on its return, and edged
himself away into the safety of an alcove. He moved cautiously back in
the wake of the log as it moved away again, finding the ledge on which he
stood ended just short of the stationary log. A second ledge starting
here just above allowed safe refuge as the moving log made its return.
This now passing safely by under him, the Prince dropped once more and
hung off the second ledge, shuffling as quickly as he could manage in the
path of the soon returning log. He passed under the stationary one and
moved on, to drop with relief at the far edge of the pit. Two more
rotating drum blades gave little hindrance. Up a final flight of stairs
came a last sword blade trap and once past it the Prince found himself
faced by a heavy shut door. Somebody planned few should see it.
A ladder propped against the wall led nowhere, but on climbing it the
Prince noticed a kind of metal ledge behind him. He jumped backwards and
found this to be a falling lever, which counterbalanced the door at the
end of the passage. It ground slowly upwards as he dropped to the ground,
standing on the cantilever ledge. He jumped down, but as he ran to the
door it began to close, a little too swiftly for him. He returned to
operate the lever again, and this time as it fell he maneuvered himself
to one side nearest the door and hung from the edge. When he was sure the
door had opened to its fullest extent, he dropped off and ran hard for it
as it started to close. Just in time he rolled underneath and it slid
shut. He was relieved to notice a wall lever on this side to reopen the
door in future, perhaps.
He was in a vaulted chamber. A shaft of light struck down from a skylight
high above. At its far end, a stone staircase rose from either side of
the room to curve up to a circular platform. Beneath it stood a curious
device of slender glass. In the light of a ring of flaming torches he
could just make out a figure atop a short ladder beside it. He moved to
approach.
It was the woman in red. She stopped, not pleased and not much surprised
by the intrusion.
"This is a dangerous place. You should not have come back."
"I don't have the luxury, I must see the Empress."
The woman climbed down the ladder. She gave a dismissive sigh.
"Impossible."
She held in her hand a sword with a long, thin, elegantly twisted blade.
The Prince pressed his intention.
"My mission," he said, "it is very urgent. I must see her."
"You don't understand. When the last grain falls from this hourglass the
Empress will create the Sands of Time. No business of yours could be more
important than that."
"I have come to stop the Empress from creating the Sands."
"Then yours is a fool's errand. The creation of the Sands is foretold in
the Timeline." She shook her head ruefully. "It cannot be stopped."
"I just saved your life," he stabbed an accusing finger. "Twice. All I'm
asking for is some information. Tell me where the Sands will be created."
She conceded the obligation, for the good it would do.
"In there," she looked to a heavy door behind thick bands of steel. "But
the room has been sealed. You cannot enter."
"There must be a way."
"Hah! You would have to undo the very fortifications of the castle." She
gestured the obvious. "An impossible task."
"When a man is faced with his own death, he finds the impossible less of
a barrier. Tell me how."
"Very well."
The woman described for him the method to unlock the heavy door.
"The gate is controlled by an elaborate clockwork system located inside
the Mechanical Tower."
This was a formidable structure built into one wing of the fortress.
"Even assuming you can reach the device and activate it, the machine
still needs power. As water passes through the moat, the machine will
receive power. But first you will have to fill the moat from the supply
in the Garden Tower."
This was a structure located in an external part of the fortress complex,
linked to the Mechanical Tower by an aqueduct.
"Activate both towers and the door will open."
He knew what to do but was too well aware that there would be obstacles
and danger and determined opponents at every step.
"You'll need this," said the woman.
She presented her sword with its long twisted blade. He reached for the
handle. They held it between them for a moment.
"It's more than just a weapon. It also serves to activate a system of
bridges which will grant you access to the other towers." She sighed. "It
won't make a difference, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Succeed or fail the outcome is the same. You will not stop the Sands
from being created. What is written in the timeline cannot be changed."
The Prince was undaunted. "Thanks for the advice."
She watched him go, her green eyes impassive.
----------------------------------------------
YOU GAIN
S E R P E N T S W O R D
This very special sword serves as a key
and lets you perform
a more powerful combo.
----------------------------------------------
The Prince turned to attend his mission. He needed to unseal that heavy
door and to do that he must gain access to each tower in turn, whatever
hazards he faced. As he left the Hourglass Chamber he noticed upon the
floor beneath his feet a curious design. Nine interlocking circles formed
a ring around a larger circle, each bearing a slightly differing symbol.
Two were aglow with brilliant white light. He could not determine the
cause.
He lent his weight to the mechanical lever on the wall by the door, which
reopened it, grinding slowly to a close behind him as he rolled
underneath. He made his way back along the corridor of traps, ably
negotiating the ingenious array of lethal devices. A fine test of his
ability to be sure, though for one less agile than he, quite impossible.
-- THE KEY AND THE LOCK -------------------------------------------------
Back in the Central Hall the Prince jumped to the raised floor in the
center. He approached the stone rose beyond the circular motif. This was
the device that would give him access to the two towers. Now armed with
the key to it he plunged the Serpent Sword into a groove in the rose.
Rays of light burst forth and the circular depression in the floor nearby
parted to reveal a short pedestal rising from beneath. It ignited to
flame in a brazier on top. Before he had the chance to investigate,
Raiders appeared through the doorway behind him. His new sword showed
ready appetite.
The flaming pedestal proved to be a capstan. A short handle allowed him
to rotate this, and on so doing the Prince was astonished to see great
columns of stone blocks rising and falling to be set to position from the
depths that surrounded him. Certain combinations of tall blocks formed
bridges from which others might be reached, and through this circumstance
could be seen the method of entry to various doorways about the Central
Hall, previously inaccessible.
He remembered the words of the woman in red: "First you'll have to fill
the moat from the supply in the Garden Tower." Looking again at the
circular motifs at his feet, the Prince understood the meaning of the
water symbol on one. He turned the capstan device so that the handle
pointed to it, and found by so doing that several groups of stone columns
rose up on the other side of the chasm. One set nearby.
He climbed up on a short block that made a platform, to launch a wall run
and jump out towards a block column with a thin ledge. He clung
precariously and edged around to a spot where he was able to clamber up
to another ledge, and with a few short jumps and a little more climbing
he arrived at a doorway. Beyond could be seen a pair of Raiders. They
were not about to congratulate him on his effort.
The Prince made short work of them and hurried down the passage they
guarded. As he brushed aside a slow billowing drape he almost blundered
into a rotating sword trap. The excitement of his progress had nearly
dulled caution, yet he knew he must always take care. He rolled easily
past each of two swords and rounded a corner to find a passage very
brightly lit by daylight from above.
He stepped forward and noticed a pressure pad prominent on the stone
tiles before him. Not wishing another unpleasant surprise, the Prince
moved cautiously around it and looked down to a shallow pit of wooden
planks that led the passage on. It looked safe enough to jump down. He
ran on along the passage, light showing between the planks but the
surface quite sound. Around a corner a solid wooden wall that he could
not climb blocked the way. There was not much else to find.
Returned to the floor switch, the Prince saw no option but to activate
it. In front of him a grille sprang out over the pit. The Prince lost no
time in running out upon it, but within a few strides it began to
retract. He turned back and ran to the safety of the floor switch. The
pit was not deep but he had to get across it to the other end of the
passage. Of course he had at his ready disposal the Eye of the Storm.
Stepping once more on the switch, this time as the metal walkway shot out
the Prince slowed Time so that he ran easily across to where from below
he had been halted by the wooden wall. To his disappointment, he arrived
merely at a stage along the passage, and here now was another drop down
to another pit of wooden planks. He knew what to expect from
investigation, so turned his attention to a wall switch he saw opposite.
Too high to reach from the pit beneath, yet there were two metal bars
short in front that might serve as means to swing to it. He jumped up
from the wall beside him to grab the first bar, handily curved that he
might shimmy to face the second. He set himself at a swing and flew
acrobatically to the second bar, and off that to plant his feet firmly on
the switch. It activated immediately, and as he fell towards the wooden
pit the Prince unleashed the power of the Sand once again to slow Time,
such that he landed on the metal grille unloosed by the switch, and ran
on down the passage without pause. Even with the miracle he had at his
disposal, the last section of grille slid back under his feet as he
barely made it to the end of the passage.
-- THE WATER MAIDEN -----------------------------------------------------
He emerged in bright sunlight at a lush courtyard garden. Neat lawns and
trees surrounded a central pool of stepped stone bridges to a sculpture
of a water-bearing maiden, enclosed in an ivy-strewn pergola. The
impression was delightful.
"So Babylon is not the only place to discover the wonders of hanging
gardens," the Prince marveled. "Ours, however, do not provide sanctuary
to monsters."
His instincts proved correct. A harsh voice called out: "Attack him now!"
In a moment red-hooded guards came hurrying to bar his way. Keepers of
the two towers, these proved better fighters than the mostly mindless
enemies thus far. Determined swordsmen, they were ready to block and
quick to strike, though they seemed perhaps over confident in their
abilities.
"Stand tall, human, and meet your fate," said the first.
"Don't kill him yet," boasted another. "I will deal the final blow."
As he applied sufficient force, the Prince dealt with them well enough in
any case.
"So many against me, yet it is still too easy."
He used the space in the garden to circle and strike each as it came.
These few were no match for his blade.
"Pay attention," he said, "This is what becomes of those who cross me."
"Fall back!" cried one. "Send for reinforcements."
The Prince vaulted over a last wretch and flung him overhead. This
helpless Keeper splashed into the central pool, whereon it vanished in an
instant. As with the Dahaka, it seemed these servants of Sand could not
withstand the simple touch of water. He would bear that in mind.
He made exploration of the small Garden Hall. It was now deserted but for
a few possessed birds, which flapped slowly to attack at his approach but
troubled his sword little. Opposite his entrance, a large solid door,
with red symbol very familiar to him upon it, was firmly shut. Each side
of this a shallow pool at opposite corners to one end of the garden stood
before large niche sculptures. One seemed to have a slender structure
leading towards it, raised off the ground. As he searched for a means up
to it the Prince observed, at four points set into the manicured lawn,
round decorated stone tiles, two either side. Linking them were narrow
covered channels that led back to each pool. Their significance could not
be guessed. To one side near his entrance, the Prince noticed a ladder.
He sprang up from a wall to grab on, and nimbly ascended.
At a platform above waited a familiar but unwelcome figure. The towering
Crow Master had returned to challenge him again. It spoke with glutinous
menace.
"I see there is still much I can teach you. You'll need to try harder if
you hope to best me."
The Prince joined battle using his practiced vault attack, slashing down
as he landed each time. His foe was able to block only half, and in just
a few short strokes it dissipated in squealing flapping chaos of birds in
flight. As before, it reformed on a higher ledge, daring him on. A ladder
to hand, the Prince hurried to repeat his assault.
It took only a hard blow or two for the Crow Master to retreat once more,
and settle on a narrow platform somewhere above the slender structure
that the Prince had noticed from the ground. With the aid of a hanging
length of rope at one side he jumped over to beat the demon off once and
for all.
"It looks like even I cannot escape my fate," came the dying echo of its
mechanical voice.
For his pains, the Prince was grateful to recover from the ground the
mysterious warrior's sword.
He looked out to the niche sculpture a little below him at the corner of
the garden. Birds cawed intermittently and insects hummed in the stifling
air. It seemed he could make out an opening in the very far corner beyond
the sculpture's head, and by a run out on the wall - not too far - made
his way to it across a horizontal bar. Inside was a tall narrow passage,
open to bright sunlight, with its floor far below. The Prince dropped
swiftly down a series of ledges.
Light shafted in at tall windows. A Keeper stood waiting. The sword of
the Crow Master dealt with him easily.
"This is not how it is supposed to end," came its dying hiss.
There could be no other way. The Prince moved on.
At each end of the passage floor was a door, firmly shut. At the far end
a series of ledges matched those he had climbed down, and it was the work
of moments before he drew up at a stone platform with a short groan of
effort. Here stood a water fountain to give some relief. Wind whistled
into the darkened passage as he emerged to the light.
A raised gate gave on to a small terrace garden. The wind blew high about
as he gazed down on an intricate series of platforms, gates, and bridges,
levers and switches scattered between. There also, in his intended path,
an unknown number of enemies.
He hurried out into the open and found at once a capstan lever at the
center of the terrace. Turning this, a nearby gate shot open as the one
behind him closed down. He made his way through and saw along a walkway
ahead a Keeper, seemingly unaware of his approach. A fatal lapse. The
Prince moved on up a short flight of stone steps.
He was in a courtyard garden, lush but poorly tended. On a substantial
squared pillar of stone before him he recognized a cantilever pressure
switch such as he had used to gain access to the Hourglass Chamber.
Beside this a Keeper, joined swiftly by others.
"Stop him before he gets any further! Do not allow him to pass."
"Come on," he retorted. "Let's finish this."
These soldiers were determined but by now predictable. Though they were
strong enough to block many of his straightforward attacks, the Prince
found they could not long stand up to his acrobatic maneuvering. When the
last had vanished to yellow dust, the Prince heard the guttural outbursts
of the ethereal Silhouettes, two or three of which flitted about the
trees and pillars in the garden.
"I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere!" one taunted. "Don't you know you
can't kill a shadow?"
Yet even a few blows of his sword were enough to finish them, and there
was no shortage of weapons left lying by the defeated Keepers to use as
projectiles.
Having peace at last the Prince made thorough exploration of the small
garden. These lush garden ledges were fed through an ingenious network of
watercourses. Around a thick tree at the courtyard center were covered
channels leading to drains. Looking up, he observed platforms and
jetties. In one bright sunlit corner he noticed a section of balustrade
appeared missing.
Dropping down here he made his way via ledges to a very small platform,
high above the ground. A wall run brought him to another, beside an open
doorway. Inside, a short passage led to a deep chamber. Water poured from
the garden above through a spout to the depths below. The Prince climbed
down a series of ledges to a platform, and from there a jump from a wall
pole led him to an adjacent platform with more ledges to descend. Not
pausing to admire elaborate decoration on floor tiles beneath him, the
Prince rounded a corner, where he found twin sword blades gliding over a
bed of spiked tile traps. He ran and tumbled to the safety of a corner,
and took the measure of the neighboring hazard, a horizontally traveling
spiked log and a rotating sword drum. That the floor here also was of
spiked tiles added a little to the danger as he ran on behind the log and
rolled forward to another corner. Ahead lay another fiendish pairing of
twin spiked poles and gliding sword blades. He decided to call on the Eye
of the Storm to negotiate the poles, since their rate of travel across
his path seemed somewhat excessive. The next junction he shared with a
rotating sword drum, but there was room tight to one corner to recover
his breath. Still his trial was not complete, and here was a second
horizontal spike log to negotiate at a roll. As he tumbled to safety, the
Prince allowed his relief at sight of the soft glowing red illumination
of the wall symbol at the passage end that signaled his goal.
Once more he approached the mysterious device and touched to it his
Amulet, recovering it fully charged to his breast, and was borne into the
air on a burst of fiery light as before.
----------------------------
YOU GAIN
L I F E U P G R A D E
As the Health bar increases
the Prince becomes stronger
----------------------------
As he turned to make his way back, the traps, as on previous visits to
the secret devices, retracted and became still. In no time he zigzagged
the lengthy but now harmless passage to the sound only of wind, and
negotiated the ledges and the platform between to emerge to the light
once again. He soon made his way back up to the courtyard garden.
His enemies had returned.
"Do as you are told and kill him!"
He ran directly to the square pillar and pulled down on the pressure
lever. A nearby block rose up against a wall. Knowing without seeing that
this would be on a short counterbalance, the Prince slowed Time for
himself that he might run to it, avoiding the Keepers attempting to bar
his way. He climbed up and grabbed a ledge before the block slid to the
ground. As it did so, the enemies in the courtyard garden vanished to
dust.
He jumped backwards to the bough of a tree, which might have been
fashioned for use as a beam. He balanced out on a branch to make a hop
onto a stone jetty and ledge at an ornate sculpted column. An
intermediate wall pole carried him to a matching column at one corner of
the garden. He balanced carefully along the top edge of a trellis, not
daring to look down at the sea very far below on a sheer drop. Another
ledge and jetty faced the top of the squared pillar, which he saw was
arched at its top with a pole projecting from its center point. This
brought him nicely to a higher bough on that same tree at which he began.
He had worked all around the courtyard garden and was now quite high
above. A rope hung down off a wall of the fortress in front. He grabbed
hold and dropped down to give himself as much length as he could to run
out and swing from a wall pole to a cranny on a pillar.
Now he faced a bold leap backwards over the sheer drop to the sea, even
further below. He caught hold of a stone jetty and scrambled to the
relative safety of a platform walkway. Safe but for a waiting figure.
"Unfortunate that you have fallen so easily," came the voice of the Crow
Master.
The Prince was unmoved.
"So it's a fight you want."
He ran to the towering demon and dealt a hard blow, rolling aside before
it could bring its own weapon to bear. It gasped in shock as he vaulted
easily over, striking on landing in his usual style. Though the creature
had undoubted tenacity it showed little resilience and soon scattered to
its demonic flock. Through an open gateway that it seemed eager to
protect the Prince found only empty platforms and a closed gate. This
bore a switch symbol but the matching device was nowhere to be found.
Close by, column ledges gave access to raised platforms overhead.
Here underfoot was a switch that raised up the gate below, and revealed a
capstan lever behind. However, on the instant he left it, the Prince
found the floor switch released the gate down again. He would need some
assistance to keep the floor switch depressed. On an adjacent platform
the Crow Master sought to resume. The Prince leaped over to it and struck
out with his sword. On first contact the being collapsed to its scattered
flock of possessed birds. Overhead where it guarded was a hanging lever,
which (with no reason not to) the Prince swung up to and pulled.
A drawbridge descended where he had stood on the floor switch. It formed
a wooden walkway leading only to a sturdy-looking crate, with surely only
one use. He ran eagerly over and pushed the heavy wooden box the short
distance to the switch. On the platform below, the gate was raised
permanently and he could now gain access to the capstan lever. The Prince
looked out with satisfaction. The towering cliffs all around rose from
the sea, very far below. Out beyond the bay he could see the Raider
pirate ship at anchor. He was reminded of his purpose and made his way
down. The Crow Master waited once more.
"I want to win with honor," it said. "Get back on your feet."
Although skilled with its sword, the many fruitless encounters with the
Prince thus far had not daunted its intent. The creature seemed either
very brave or very stupid. This confrontation was brief.
"It is unfortunate that it must end this way," came the mechanical voice.
With a last flurry of feathers and dust, it disappeared. The Prince
claimed as his own its powerful though sadly not durable sword.
With the platform walkways to himself, the Prince ran on to the newly
exposed capstan. With a short turn of its handle a switch clunked into
operation and a sluice opened beneath his platform. A torrent of water
spilled along a flat channel moat and into the fortress walls below. With
the pressure of water, capstan levers sprang up in the Garden Hall.
Clearly, he should make his way back to find what operation they might
conduct.
The Prince hopped down to splash through the channel of water. At its
end, high above the gardens, he found a crack along one wall that he used
to shuffle round and drop from to a small platform, off which a thin
stone beam gave on to another. Midway along it was a small jetty that the
Prince used to get close to the fortress wall, where he noticed a rope
hanging down. A leap and a drop, and he stood beside the capstan on the
small terrace garden that opened and closed opposite gates. Using this he
returned inside.
-- WATER AND GARDENS ----------------------------------------------------
The Prince made his way once again down into the dank passage, where
another Keeper had replaced the single sentry pacing its lonely path. It
proved no better suited to its task.
"I think I will need help," it whimpered.
A swift climb up the ledges on the far end brought him once more to
overlook the Garden Hall. He dropped off the open doorway and shuffled
around to where a long thin red banner hung beside the giant statue. In
his now customary manner the Prince used his blade to slow descent to the
ground down the convenient cloth.
Other Keepers had been sent to prevent his return through the garden but
he soon finished them with the Crow Master sword. Though somewhat fragile
it had power while it lasted. Soon enough the Prince turned his attention
to the raised capstan handles.
He put his shoulder to the first one until it clunked and appeared set.
He followed the narrow covered channel on the ground to the next capstan
and rotated it similarly. He saw water flow in the channels beneath his
feet, from the central pool of the Water Maiden to one of the giant stone
statues at one end of the Garden Hall. The water spewed from its mouth
into a stone bowl, which lowered under the weight and served thus as a
cantilever to open an adjoining channel, causing water to flow from
spouts at one side of the closed central door. Things were developing
nicely.
At the other side of the Garden another pair of capstans had raised up.
When he had water flowing in its direction by turning one capstan handle,
he hurried to operate the last. The flow of water through the sluice
channels was complete. The second statue became operational. As water
poured from its mouth, the stone tray in the hands of the second statue
began to descend in the manner of the first, and on the other side of the
central doorway between, water flowed. Now counterbalanced, the door shot
open. The Prince ran eagerly to it.
At the end of a short passage within he came to a drop and was
momentarily unsure how to proceed. He looked up and saw, partly obscured
by vegetation, stone ledges, which he soon used to emerge at higher
level. He was scarcely ruffled by a last pair of screeching crows slowly
flapping to peck at him as he went. At the end of a short passage here he
ducked through a curtain of water to enter a new Time portal chamber,
identical to the others. By trial and error as before he soon activated
the four pillar wall switches to release molten Sand to its spiral, and
hurried to it to return to his Present.
----------------------------------------------
YOU GAIN
B R E A T H O F F A T E
This power lets you do a strong ground attack
hurting several enemies simultaneously.
Use this power when the Prince is
surrounded by enemies
----------------------------------------------
He is back in the sullied Present. As he emerges through the curtain of
water the passageway beyond is now overgrown with weeds and darkened by
lichen. Keepers are in evidence.
"Stop him before he gets any further."
The passage of time has not blunted their sarcasm.
"On your knees, dog," sneers one. "Unfortunate that I must dirty my hands
on the likes of you."
"I have more important matters to attend to," advises the Prince. "Throw
down your swords or lose your arms. Run while you still can."
Words unheeded, lessons to be learned.
The passage clear, the means of descent at its end is the same, though
all ledges now are edged in weeds and more difficult to discern. He steps
carefully, not wanting to miss his hold and plunge to unseen depths. More
guards wait his arrival. He drops swiftly behind and slices one and casts
the other to those very depths.
"Fall back! Send for reinforcements," comes a futile command. If they
come at all, they will be too late to assist.
As the Prince rounds the corner another sentry jogs forward. As
reinforcement not worthy of the name.
"Now you will serve the Empress," it dares.
An empty threat, when such as he is to command. The Prince finishes the
vainglorious attacker at a stroke and moves on into the Garden Hall, now
in a pitiful state of ruin.
"It seems like the vegetation has taken its toll on this part of the
tower," he muses. "It is completely overgrown."
He hops over a low wall to the pond, now choked with weeds and collapsed
at one side to a tumbling waterfall. He stoops to take a mouthful of
brackish water. Twisted petrified vegetation has grown up in the passage
ahead, and fallen masonry stops up any access back to the Central Hall.
That was his route in the Past, where the corridor of traps led back to
the Hourglass Chamber, from which he hoped to go through the massive iron
door to the Throne Room.
"The Throne Room is so close, and yet I cannot reach it from here. I'll
have to find another way."
The shallow pond at one corner has collapsed to a chasm, and there seems
no way to ascend to any higher ledges that may have survived the
insidious process of decay. The Prince returns to the entrance to find
another way forward, and sees there a short block, low against one wall.
Looking up, he judges that he can mount a fallen arch, and swiftly does
so.
He progresses at some elevation along stone beams to the pergola top, now
thick with weeds, around the sculpture of the Water Maiden, splashing
merrily as ever shortly beneath him. From this slender footpath, he leaps
to a stone platform. An overconfident Keeper drops down to join him.
"He's no match for me," its last, inappropriate, remark.
To one side is a partly cracked ledge, which the Prince uses to climb up
to a higher platform. More Keepers circle menacingly, and are swiftly
assisted by a new and unusual fighting companion, a near invisible
creature in female form, nimble and gymnastic as a Blade Dancer.
Chameleon-like they blend near invisible with the green vegetation, such
that he has to keep his wits to sense their position as he turns to fight
them away. Still the Keepers maintain their verbal assault.
"How dare you confront me? Filthy human, you will die like all your
kind."
As ever, empty words. The Prince scoops up a weapon left by one of the
Chameleon creatures and tests it on a Keeper. To his alarm he finds it
deals as much damage to himself as his victim, and promptly discards it.
He has many better skills to deal with their like.
With the platform silenced the Prince considers his next move. A slender
stone pillar proves in reach of a wall run, and he makes further progress
by a wall ledge to drop onto a thick branch that has pierced the brick
just underneath. Off this he drops down to the slender structure - which
he now knew to be an aqueduct - leading to the giant niche statue. He
climbs up onto the stone tray in its hands, barely recognizable in its
overgrown state. A slender branch gives means of access to the hole in
the wall through which he had passed in another time.
The means of descent are the same. With careful alignment he drops down
narrow ledges, hung with weeds. The floor has long since collapsed, but
at a certain point he is able to jump backwards to a tree branch, along
which he makes way by a series of careful jumps, through sometimes dense
foliage, to the other end of the passage. A far jump to the wall finds
him on a stone ledge. He makes his way up others above to the slippery
moss strewn passage that leads to the open air. He clears the stifling
taste of rotting vegetation at the water basin to hand there.
He emerges onto the small terrace garden where he once again gazes down
on platforms, walkways and ledges, now thickly overgrown. Even had the
capstans he operated in the Past been yet operational, the walkways had
crumbled from his original route. He must look for other means of access
to his goal.
He has first to subdue a pair of Keepers, joined soon by a Blade Dancer.
With little exertion he sees off the gang of them, and then considers his
path. Dropping down opposite the doorway, he makes his way around
overgrown ledges to a point where he can leap to grab a grassy platform.
He jumps down to a garden area, where he is assaulted again, this time by
a pair of frisky and bothersome Blade Dancers. Still he prevails and now,
climbing up, makes his way to a higher platform.
This is part of a shattered walkway but he judges he might run out upon a
wall to leap backwards and grab hold of a thin ledge further along.
Climbing up here he recognizes the small courtyard garden where he fought
the Silhouettes and their cohorts in the Past. In this Present he becomes
surrounded by Blade Dancers and Chameleons, together much the most
troublesome of his ordinary opponents due to their unpredictable change
of direction and vicious rapid attack. Drawing on the power of his Sand,
the Prince invokes the Eye of the Storm to slow Time around him. He is
thus able to move fairly effortlessly amongst these assassins in female
form, finishing them one by one. When he has peace he looks around and
considers the change in this place since last he was here.
The sluices are all dry and overgrown. The walls are collapsed, the steps
at the garden entrance lead down to a sheer drop. The corner where he
discovered the passage to the secret device has disappeared completely.
The square pillar is not to be found but the tree he climbed up next to
it is now very thick and potentially useful as ever. He mounts a grassy
ledge at one side and springs first to a worn tree trunk then off to a
branch of another tree close by. From that he swings over another branch
to a section of crumbled wall. He steps carefully along to a point where
a long jump brings him to the ledges of a corner column, where once he
ascended to fight the Crow Master. By much arduous shimmying he brings
himself to a ledge with a jetty, and over a branch to a higher platform.
Despite the apparent impossibility that any might find safe route through
such hazards as he faced, the Prince was ever confident of his path. He
found now the fruit of his athletic ability, his goal a high platform
almost within reach. Others had already found their way to this
elevation. At a grassy platform that he reaches from a swing off a
slender branch, a posse of Keepers await.
"Pay attention, there is much that I can teach you," sneers one.
Very well, thinks their willing pupil, if the lesson today is how to die.
The Prince notes a spindle column set in the middle of this platform, and
recalls a lesson of his own that he learned on his ship so very long ago.
He grabs hold of the column and spins round it, slicing his enemies to
pieces at a stroke. When all are vanquished he looks around the empty
space. To one side he spots a stone jetty, at which he arrives on a wall
run. Pulling up here he finds a water basin to recover lost strength.
Close beside he mounts a short wall, atop which he looks back to the
courtyard garden. One of the tree trunks looks within reach.
The Prince leaps out towards the tree, grabs and holds tight. He shuffles
around to repeat the maneuver to a neighboring tree, and still another
after that. On he goes, aligning himself for a careful landing on an
extended branch. Far below he sees an inlet from the sea. The surrounding
fortress looms either side of sheer cliffs. He has no time to admire the
scenery, though he cannot fail to be impressed once again by the
spectacular view. Is that the pirate Raider's ship, he wonders, still
moored beyond the bay but now wrecked? Time deals its own justice.
He moves on to what must be the highest platform, met here by a lone
Blade Dancer. Her friend appears too late to prevent the Prince his
onward run along a wall to a ledge, and in moments he is back inside the
fortress walls.
On a turn of a passage he is about to leap a short gap over a pit, when
he finds that the block ledge he is aiming to land on is in fact a
pounding wall slider. As with others he has seen, it slowly retracts and
then hammers out. The passage is too narrow to negotiate without recourse
to a jump over off it. This difficulty is compounded by the identical
hazard just beyond. The Prince can see that, should he tarry long, one or
other of the blocks might retract to cause him to lose hold, then extend
rapidly to pound him flat against the wall. He has only a second or two
to make use of each. As the first block hammers out, the Prince jumps and
clambers on it, then steps forward and jumps off again, landing on the
smooth upper surface of the second block even as it begins to retract.
With presence of mind he jumps up into the air, such that the block
extends on its next cycle under him, and carries him out into the middle
of the passage, where he leaps once more, forwards this time, to cling
and grapple to his feet safe on the passage floor the other side of the
pit. Here is a basin to recover his nerve.
Outside once more, the way is over yet more sliding blocks. The last pair
had taken him slightly unawares; with better timing he can negotiate
these properly. He stands at a ledge and observes their motion. He judges
that he can stay close to the wall to leap out at first rapid extension,
and jump without pause to the second whilst stationary. This he achieves
easily but is momentarily taken aback when he realizes the distance to
his next station. In an instant he runs out on a wall to grab hold of a
hanging rope, where he continues his run to release, and on the extent of
his trajectory, leaps back off the sheer wall to cling on to a tree.
Catching his breath here among the swaying branches he considers his next
move. A spinning spiked log grinds up and down alongside his perch,
proving but a minor impediment to a carefully timed jump from the tree to
a column, and from that to safe ground. Safe, that is but for the sudden
appearance through an archway of the Crow Master and a Chameleon
companion. After his recen