View source for The Coming of the Shadow

== ''The Coming of the Shadow'' ==
''As recollected by ISEULT of the Mark, laywoman of the Triad church, squire of ser Ossian Crofter.''
----For the past year there had been rumour and sighting of a strange being, a man made of shadow. This dark revenant bore no name and no description within the vocabulary of the common tongue. With his coming and going he left strange messages and a lingering dread. It was said that his mere presence could sever one from their god.

In the eighth month of the 104th year of Arelith's Reckoning, ser Ossian and I spoke within the homely house of the Triad, and were touched by this servant of the black whim. The air turned foul, and the light became dim. He appeared behind the knight of the Troubadour and sought to touch him. After much scuffle, the good councillor of Cordor, Davit Heth, and an artificer of the Tower, Terry, came to our aid. Ossian produced a strange item; some sort of fetish of evil gramarye that he had confiscated from somewhere beyond my knowledge. It was bejewelled and made of stone. Emitting a noxious draft, the air became too rank to breathe. We held rags to our mouths. The shadow creature moved among us, seeking to strike at our hearts and weaken us as we deliberated exorcising the item.

The councillor and the artificer dabbled in some arcane wizardry beyond my recollection that cleansed the temple hall of the poison. Having partly contained the evil object in a glass cylinder, it was then that a man entered through the door, clad in a dark cloak and wicked mail. He wielded a great war-scythe and attempted to take from us the object. Ser Ossian slew him after a brief chase. It was thought that this man was a servant of the lingering shadow, and had hoped to bring some sort of ruin upon Cordor. We brought him to the graveyard where his earthly remains were burned in a pyre.

It became clear that the object could not be long contained in Terry's cylinder. If the object was to be excised of its dark spirits, it could not occur here, so we left a message of intent (in case we were never to return), boarded the Arvora, the vessel of which the Councillor was once admiral, and set sail to the sea far and beyond the cities and populace of the realm. By a bleak and lonely island we moored, a silent spot of sand in the watery void. There was no life here. Everything was still. The only feature was an ominous pool.

The object was set down and the two magicians began their hexes and their conjurations. Though the details of such an esoteric vocation is beyond my grasp, I should note for perhaps future urgencies that the particular spell was a disjunction-- the regents of its preparation being a ritual circle of brimstone, nitre powder and copper wire.

The shadow took its form before us, a figure of pure fog. The artificer engulfed it with banishment spells to no avail. The creature appeared before Terry. To our collective astonishment and dread, it shook Terry's hand and “thanked” him for the part he was “selected for”. The shadowy ghost said it would let him live, and then turned to ser Ossian and I, condemning him for his “impertinence”. It stepped forth, and our blades did not avail us. I was cast into the pool, and from Ossian it took his sight. Blind, he stumbled to his knees. The creature turned to Heth.

It thanked the councillor much as it did Terry, and gave to him a wicked prize: the choice to choose between ser Ossian and I. Whom to save and whom must die. If he refused to choose, both of us would be taken. I stood by the blind knight and guarded him feebly with my longsword. Heth was not quick to a decision, despite Ossian urge for himself to be chosen to die. Instead, the councillor tried to parley with the wicked beast, and it asked him to kneel – ser Ossian and I demurred, and luckily, Heth heeded.

Impatient, (particularly after intercepting a luckless hinnish messenger, whom it slew) the creature of shadow moved behind the blind Ossian and decided it would make Heth's decision itself.

In this climactic moment, Davit Heth conjured forth a sword of black flame and sundered our foe. With a screeching howl, it was undone, and from around us the fog cleared, the forlorn isle robbed of its pale green glow. Ser Ossian Crofter's eye-sight was returned to him, and in our triumph-less victory, we quietly left that forsaken place and vowed to never speak of what had transpired there prematurely lest we inspire a panic.

No more has crossed my knowledge of this servant of the shadow, so with some reluctance I can say all is done and all is well. Terry the artificer returned to his Tower, and Heth to his rounded hall. Whatever scrutiny comes upon the politician, his benevolence and bravery that day cannot be disputed.

[The manuscript is thus concluded, a wax seal depicting a luce fish at the very bottom.]

[[Category:100-109 AR‏‎]][[Category:Cordor‏‎]][[Category:History‏‎‏]]