CHAPTER THREE

Stray sat by the entrance to the dungeon and looked once again at the picture on the scroll. One thing he had become used to in this business was-not knowing exactly what he was supposed to find. In this case, he couldn't even guess as to what the object was. Even as well drawn as it was by the Arcanum scribes, all he could gather was that it was some sort of stone with runes and shapes engraved upon it.

"Ah well. Knowing my luck, the dungeon is probably full of stones and it will take me a year to find the right one." He thought to himself.

He tucked the scroll into his belt and pulled out his axe from the protective oiled cloth that he carried it in. As sharp as a razor, the weapon reflected the light from the morning sun onto the trees surrounding the cave he was about to enter.

It had taken him forever to find the dungeon specified on the map. It seemed that this place had not been visited or used for many years. Hacking through small trees and underbrush, he had scoured the general area for almost three days before stumbling upon a rocky outcrop that hid a tunnel leading into darkness.

Lighting a torch and taking a deep breath, he began to make his way into the musty hole down some roughly hewn steps. The torch did its job well by illuminating his pathway and it wasn't long before he came to an old oak door. Half rotted from age, it barred his way from proceeding further. It was times like this that he was glad he chose the way of the axe. A bow or a dagger would do little good in the area of door bashing.

Within minutes, he had cleared enough of the door for passage and crawled through to the other side. As he righted himself, he heard the sounds of far away whispers snaking their way through the ancient tunnels.

"Shadows." He murmured with disgust. "Why couldn't it have been rats or drudges?"

There were few things that Stray had a problem with killing when it came right down to it, but Shadows were one of those things. It wasn't that they were more difficult to kill or that they killed him any faster than the standard fare of creatures. Rather, it was the fact that many of the shadows in Dereth had once been a living person. With every Shadow that he had killed with his axe, there was a part of his mind that wondered what kind of person the shadow had been. Did it live a normal life at one time? Once a shadow, had it lost all vestiges of its life as a human?

It is not totally understood how all shadows came to lose their corporeal bodies to roam the land as dark, partially visible beings. Many where known to have come when Ilservian Palacost tapped into ancient dark powers and became the dark lord Bael'Zharon. His followers likewise were turned into shadows by the same powers and aided Bael'Zharon in an attempt to overthrow the Empyreans and make Dereth their own. However, there were others that this history did not account for. For Bael'Zharon was no longer a presence in Dereth; being defeated years ago by an Isparian affront to his power
aided by the mage known as Asheron. Yet it was said that the darkness that begat Bael'Zharon was yet a subtle force in the land and its desires of conquest still burned; that it continued to build an army of shadow warriors by taking the lives of unsuspecting humans and converting their bodies and souls to dark service.

Shadows or not, Stray knew that he had to finish this quest. He had already worked too long and hard to give up. Testing the balance of the weapon in his hand, he called out to the darkness.

"All right you Shadows. Listen up!" He bellowed.

Now you're probably wondering why Stray would do this. After all, it is not always the best idea to let potential enemies know you are coming their way. But Stray always hoped that one time, the monsters would listen to him and just let him pass without a fight-and several trips to the lifestone. So far, it had never worked, but by now it had become part of Strays style. Besides that, he was the kind that always took challenges head on. No punches pulled and everyone on the same page.

"I'm coming down see?" He continued, "And I ain't looking for trouble! All I want is a funny little rock, and I'll be outta your hair for good. Got it?" The whispering stopped and Strays call was answered in the form of three shadows brandishing daggers running down the hallway to where he stood. "Figures." He sighed and dropped his torch in order to take on the onslaught.

Stray took on the first Shadow with ease. A few swings removed the arm and the head of the attacker. No blood, guts or screams; just a heaped mass of darkness upon the floor. The second and third were a bit more difficult. While one kept slashing at Strays knees, the other seemed to be attempting a spell. He was unconcerned with the spell caster as his resistance to magic was unsurpassed. This had been one advantage to not knowing how to cast magic himself. All the time and energy that others had put into learning magic, he had put into defending himself against it. The second Shadow had
managed to put a nice little gash on his right leg by this time, which only served to make Strays' anger rise. He really didn't want to leave a corpse in here; as the closest lifestone he could find was a four-hour walk from this dungeon. So he kept swinging his axe. And with every swing, he talked to his opponent.

"YOU..." (Swoosh)

"SHOULD.." (Hack)

"HAVE.." (Slice)

"LISTENED.." (Crunch)

"TO.." (Jab)

"ME.." (Bash)

Stray had learned this bantering trait from his father as a young child, who had done similarly while beating him for getting into trouble. With every lash, a syllable would follow intoning his father's thoughts on the matter.

Finally putting the two remaining Shadows to rest, Stray tended to his bloodied leg using one of several healing kits he had brought with him. As the pain subsided, he picked up his torch again and continued on deeper into the dungeon.

It seemed that he would be fortunate since there was little resistance as he worked his way through the hallways. The resistance he did happen upon came in the form of average shadows with terrible melee skills and magic skills. He followed the hallways methodically taking every turn and surveying every dead-end and room that he came to. Many had stones lying about on the floors; but they were just stones. Nothing matched his picture. Along with the stones were human bones, trinkets, old rusted weapons and packs of substances that might have been food many years ago.

He was just starting to feel that this quest was going to be too easy when the passage he was walking down took a sharp right. And as he rounded the corner, he practically bumped into an Umbris Shadow standing in front of a stone door who welcomed him with a fireball. Stray was not prepared for this onslaught and was thrown back against the wall. Umbris Shadows were a bad sort-they were very quick on the attack and their advanced skill in the magic of "Strife" was well known. Stray barely had regained his balance from the first attack when a streak of lighting aimed at his head came from
the hands of his floating foe. Fortunately, Stray had enough sense to raise his axe, which took the brunt of the attack; but still, his face had been burnt on one side and he felt weakened from the electricity that managed to make it though his axe and into his body.

Stray had no option but to run-which is exactly what he did. All the while, the Umbris stayed on his tail attempting to catch him with another blast of magic. Whether the Umbris Shadow became tired of following, or the door that it was stationed at could not be left for long, Stray eventually found himself alone once again.

"Ya almost got me-didn't ya? You piece of Shreth dropping!", he voiced to the empty room he was in. "Well this time, I've got your number!"

Once again Stray tended to his wounds. He took his time knowing that he couldn't take the Shadow off guard if he went right back down to where it was. After healing and eating some of the food he had brought with him, he slowly made his way back to where the Shadow kept its watch. He knew he could not last in a melee fight with this creature, so he decided on a different plan. Picking up a pebble off the floor and putting out his torch so that he would not give away his presence, he moved slowly and quietly down the hallway to where he remembered the turn and the Shadow to be. Feeling his
way along the wall of the corridor, he estimated when he was within range and tossed the pebble directly in front of him. The sound of the pebble bouncing off the floor might as well have been an avalanche of boulders as it broke the still and deathly silence of the stone labyrinth. Stray just hoped it had effected the desired response as he brought his axe above his head with both hands and with all the strength he could muster, flung it straight down the hallway. He heard the sound of the axe as it flew end over end-slicing through the air as it went; and heard it come to the end of its
travel with a crack and a hiss.

Stray pressed his body against the wall expecting that his plan had failed and a retaliatory strike was about to ensue. When no magical bolts came, he quickly relit his torch and peered down the hallway. Toward the end, he made out the crumpled dark form of the Umbris with his axe still protruding from its chest. The mist that had once held the shadow aloft still swirled about its midsection like a vaporous dark cloud.

"Well wadda'ya know about that? It worked!" He said to himself in amazement.

Approaching the black mass, he noticed that the shadow had not yet met its death; but was soon to find it. As Stray pulled the axe from its resting place, the shadow whispered a curse and lay still.

Stray moved now to the door and saw no handle or keyhole, but was delighted when just a bit of pressure caused it to open inward. Through the doorway, the light from his torch showed that he would be entering a large expansive room. Moving cautiously inside, he looked around for any sign of shadow movement but saw none. On one wall hung many chains as you might see in a torture chamber that caused Stray to wonder who-or what they had been designed to restrain. They were empty of prisoners at this point and showed the rust of age and non-use. Another wall across from the entrance seemed to be
ornately carved with pictographs and runes in an unknown language. Interestingly, much like the runes and carvings he remembered to be on the item he was to find. Stray continued to move his torch to take in the rest of the room and noticed a large pedestal placed exactly in the center. Atop the pedestal sat an object. Strays heart quickened as he approached. He smiled when it proved itself to be the artifact he was sent to find. Now within his reach, he saw it to be dark piece of slate that was as long and as wide as the length of his forearm. It was intricately carved with designs and runes
that matched his picture perfectly. The top right portion of the stone had what looked like a round stone dowel protruding from it; and since the item seemed well worn with age, Stray knew he had to take special care with it lest that piece break off in his pack.

Pulling out an extra oiled cloth from this pack he was about to pick the stone to wrap it when he saw movement from behind the pillar. Letting the cloth go to free his hand up for his axe, he watched as the form of a shadow came into the light of his torch. But this was not like the shadows he had fought along the way. This shadow was exactly three feet tall and came to a stop a few feet in front of him. It was a shadow child.

Stray was completely prepared to dispatch of the small shadow if it made any moves, but it did not. Instead, it stood there looking at him, almost like it was pleading. For its life or for something else, Stray did not know, but after a few minutes of the standoff he had to do something. There was no sense in him standing here forever engaged in a staring contest with a shadow.

"Bugger off you!" He blurted out and feinted toward the small form as if to strike it.

The shadow seemed to cower and moved back away from him and the pedestal to the carved wall behind it. Stray raised his eyebrow in response to the shadows actions and then turned to his task of retrieving the stone; always keeping the shadow sprite in his peripheral view. The only movement the shadow made however; was to extend its little dark arm as if to point at the wall. This made no sense to Stray and at this point he wanted nothing more than to get out of this place.

"Yeah, you go ahead and keep pointing shadow-just stay right there and I'll leave ya to your wall as soon as I get what I came for." He said as he reached for the piece of stone on the pedestal. As he placed his hands on the artifact before him-just as first contact was made, a swirling cloud entered his mind. As if he was given a blow to his head, everything became fuzzy and it seemed that his surroundings changed before him. Stray was no longer where he had been. Or was he?