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You swivel the pantard around and pull the firing lever. The heavy iron bolt screeches through the air towards the great glassy sphere. However, moments before impact, the target is suddenly blocked by a host of undead warriors that come surging out of the wheelhouse. The bolt rips through their densely-packed ranks, shattering more than a dozen skeletal bodies, but in so doing it is deflected from its chosen target; the sphere survives intact. Before Prarg can reload the pantard, a shimmering metallic plate rises up from out of the decking and blocks the sphere from your sight.
‘It’s no good!’ you shout to Prarg. ‘We’ll need more than a pantard to repel this dark tide.’
‘Look there, Grand Master!’ retorts Prarg. He is pointing to the Lencian ice-boat and his face is blanched with shock. The invading undead have begun to swarm aboard the vessel and it is clear by their actions that they intend to destroy and sink it.
‘Stay here, Prarg, and cover me with the pantard!’ you cry, as you turn and run for the stairs. ‘They must be stopped!’
