"Aye, TUCK! Take a look at this..."

Lyburn waddled down the stairs of the old inn and squeezed between the wooden crates and piles of junk waiting at the bottom to trip him. His best friend and third-best drinker in the town was working on the bar, hammering on some new paneling amid the disarray of the ongoing renovation.

"Whatcha got 'Burn?"

Lyburn navigated the stacks of fresh wood and plopped down on the one remaining barstool. The stool groaned loudly under his weight. Lyburn as a heavyset man, having picked up quite a bit of muscle from his old adventuring days... muscle which was now hidden beneath a nice, smooth sheen of fat. He placed an old scroll on the unfinished bar. The parchment was damp and moldy, and it reeked of mildew when he unrolled it.

"What's that? said Tucker.

"Remember back when the roof in that upper-left room started was leaking? Made a soft spot on the floor in the corner?"

"Yeah, I remember. Marsh kept buggin' you to fix it-"

"Yeah, I fixed the leak but alls I ended up doin' for the floor was slappin a nice thick plug of wood over the spot and hammerin' it down. Well just now I pulled that wood loose and now there's a BIG hole. And inside the hole was this-here scroll."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, somebody musta pulled up the patch and made 'em a little hole to stash it. Looks like its been there a while, too."

"What's the scroll say? Is it a map?

"No, just writin... and the water ate it up pretty bad. The whole middle part is missing. I brought it down here where the light was better."

'Better' was only a slim improvement from the dimly lit upstairs. It was after sunset, and the only useable light was from the four or five lamps the men were using to extend their working ours through the night.

Tucker adjusted the lamp on the bar to its maximum brightness. Lyburn scanned the scroll and stroked his scraggly beard. Then shook his head.

"Still can't read half of it."

"Well what's it say?"

"Well... the first couple of lines is smudged. I guess that's where it'd say who wrote it. The rest looks kinda like a poem, 'cept it don't rhyme or nothin."

"Well, read it already!"

"Lemme see here..."

Lyburn read the words:


I write these simple words as a testament
To what did occur these many months ago
In the land of [-unreadable-]

[-unreadable-]

The heroes of that day do follow
And though they saved my life once,
Now I fear they seek to take it.
And by all that is holy, part of me wishes them success.

The story burns like hot iron in my mind,
straining against my lips.
For in the end, only I know the truth of that fateful night
Where the Knights fought the EVIL that was inside Zyric.

And now they seek to silence me
So their glorious and horrible tale cannot be told.
So I commit this to parchment, this plain prose
not even a proper song... the last work of a cursed bard.

I know not how it began,
Who first felt the touch of the SHADOW upon their thoughts.
But once, the army of Noble King [-unreadable-]
marched on the land of Aldrec the Good.

They stormed and killed and looted
Many Good Townsfolk fought and died
While Aldrec the Wise did send a messenger
to the King of [-unreadable-]

[-section unreadable-]

But, horror, they found a castle filled with blood and bones.
Their General, Noble Zyric, had risen u
And, through fear and trickery, took the kingdom
and slew all who opposed.

Then, like a man possessed, he took his army
And set out across the borders to take the land
Of Aldrec the Good and Wise
And slay any whom their eyes fell upon.

[-section unreadable-]

I saw men sectioned alive
And women raped
Their children ripped from their bellies
And dashed upon the ground

Men and women tortured for weeks
by Zyric's own cruel hand.
And all for nought,
For never asked a question... not a single one.

[-large section unreadable-]

camped outside the fortress wall
like jackals, eager for the slaughter

And in the darkest hour, the Strange and Bold Knights did appear
Strong in power , Swift and Terrible
They fought against the madman's army
Till they faced once-noble Zyric himself

A cheer went up, for we were saved!
The bards were sent to witness the end of Zyric
So that our songs could ring true...
Oh, how I wish I was not one of those who went.

[-section unreadable-]

Blood flowed like rivers down my arms...
Foul things did I say and think
Dear Gods
That DARK EVIL was inside ME now!

[-very large section unreadable-]

Wielding his body like a sword
It slew the girl, and took her life
To form a monster, most hideous
With skin of stone and claws of steel.

And the two Knights... noble friends... did fight.
The speed of the wind met the strength of a mountain
Till, in battle most fierce, one wounded the other to the brink of death...
and the MAN OF SHADOWS did re-emerge.

HE writhed in the torchlight
Like a slug on salted earth
Yet continued to taunt us
with words and oaths most foul and cruel.

Then the Knight of the Wind did slay HIM
with his Sword of Purest Light.
Striking HIM down thrice... and again
Till the DARK FOULNESS was done.

But horror! As Light touch Shadow... Shadow may also touch Light!
The Sword... the Mighty Weapon of Light did fall!
Snatched from the hand of the Wind, and cast into the depths of
the sea
Sinking ever downward even as the FOUL THING'S screams faded.

The Wind cried out
And the Knight of Death did comfort him
But lo, the end was not to be seen.
The Knights did say that there is still a danger.

For a tale once told, can never be untold
Words once spoken can never be erased.
And like the legends of the ancients,
the CREATURE THAT MOVES AS THOUGHT can never die.

For as long as there are men that live and think and dream,
THE SHADOW UPON MEN'S MINDS can return .
Resurrected by a whispered word
Or a song penned by a hapless bard.... so they say.

And tho my soul be corrupted and cannot summon HIM,
The Knights did plot to fall upon me...
To take my body and my mind,
lest my words spark THE HORROR'S return through another.

I am the last one of those who know
save for the Bold Knights of Wind and Death themselves.
And if I should die, this tale of their Bravery and Sacrifice
Will be forever lost, like the honor of poor Zyric.

And so I did sneak away
while they both lay wounded and unable to follow.
All my knowledge and cunning I do now employ
To extend my time among the living

I cannot run from them.
And so I will take my self to hide
Amongst the school of alchemists
where those I call brothers will keep me safe.

I travel there now,
And even though the tale burns its horrible brand upon my mind
I will tell no one save for this scroll...
which shall be the sole remnant of [-unreadable-]

[-remainder unreadable-]

"Hmph," said Tucker. "Sounds like quite a yarn. Too bad so much of it was messed up."

"Yeah, I wonder what it was doin' in the floor up there, though?"

"You think its true?"

"What?"

"The story."

"Heh! Well I ain't never heard of no King Aldrec or Zyric or no Knights of the Wind."

"Coulda been a long time ago. This is an old inn."

"Yeah, but that hole in the floor ain't been there but for a few years. Bah!" Lyburn tossed the scroll behind the bar. "It's junk. Dumb poem don't even rhyme. Lets say we open up a bottle a somethin', eh?"

Lyburn rummaged through one of the boxes of 'supplies' and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey.

"I though Marsh tole you not to-"

"Well she ain't HERE now, is she? I dont' see HER arse rippin' up floors or hammerin' down no boards! This is MY inn as much as hers and I can drink if I want!"

"Heh, heh... I knew that'd get ya started. Where'd we pack the glasses?"

"Glasses? Who needs glasses?"

Lyburn took a loooooong swig.

"WHOOOOO-WEEEE!!" he bellowed as he handed the bottle to Tucker.

Tucker took an equally extended drink.

"YEEE-HAAA! So much for work, eh?"

"Gimme that bottle...."

"Here, take THIS one-" Tucker produced his own full bottle from his toolbox and handed it to Lyburn.

"I knew I hung out with you for a reason," said Lyburn.

"Here's to...uhh...uhhh... what'd that guy say in the poem? Oh yeah,... SHADOWS and...uhh... stuff."

"YEAH!"

---

The night wore on. The two drunks spoke loudly of old times and old friends... and of the strange scroll that Lyburn had found. Tucker wanted Lyburn to read it again, but neither one of them wanted to fetch it out of the pile of junk behind the bar. Lyburn just repeated what his befuddled mind could recall, and they all had yet another good laugh at the expense of some unknown bard.

Several hours and two full bottles of whisky later, Lyburn eased off of his stool and tried to find his way out back to relieve himself. It was harder than he imagined. They had turned the lamps down long ago so people passing by... like Lyburn's wife... couldn't look in and easily tell that they were hard at work getting sloshed. Of course, that turned the crowded floor into an impassable labyrinth. Lyburn tripped several times, and finally decided to just go in the far corner of the room.

"AAAhhhhhh..." he said.

"Oh, come ON, 'Burn!" protested Tucker.

"Sorry. But hell, it's MY inn."

Lyburn felt a tingle in the back of his throat. He coughed, but that failed to dislodge it. In fact, it only made it worse.

"I'm gonna need another swig a whiskey," he grunted.

"We're all out."

"Damn."

Lyburn tried to return to the bar, but as soon as he took one step, a frighteningly sharp pain assaulted him. It was like someone was hammering at the inside of his skull with a tree-spike.

"ARRRG!" he fell to his knees, knocking over a few boxes in the process.

"What's goin' on, 'Burn?"

"AAAA, MY DAMNED HEAD!"

"You okay?"

"HELL NO!"

Lyburn rose up onto his knees but could move no further. Someone was running a string of barbed wire in one of his ears and out the other.

"AAAAARR!" Lyburn spat a string of oaths and curses like he never said before. "TUCK HELP ME!"

Tucker grabbed the one lamp from the bar and tried to find his friend.

"NOOOOO! PUT THAT DAMNED LAMP OUT! IT HURRRRTSSS!"

"But I can't SEE-" Tucker backed away

"AAAARRGH!"

Lyburn's muscles began cramping and spasming involuntarily. They clamped down with such force that they snapped several of his own bones. His stomach heaved and offered up all of the undigested whiskey and food from his gut. The heaving continued as the throbbing pain in his head grew worse and worse.

"OH GOD HELP MEEEE!"

"I can't! I can't!" Every time Tucker got close to Lyburn, the poor man screamed louder as the lamplight assaulted his eyes. "What can I do!?! HELLLLP!" Tucker screamed, hoping somebody out on the street would hear him. "HEEELLLLLLLLPPPP!"

"ARRRRRRRRGGGH!"

Lyburn reared up and let out a wail of agony. The whites of his eyes filled with an inky fluid, turning them entirely black. His stomach continued to heave, but with no food inside it, the painful cramps just pumped out bile and fluids. Suddenly, Lyburn felt his gut fill with something unnatural... which he immediately emptied out onto the floor. It wasn't food. Or drink. It was clot of blackness... neither solid or liquid. It was like smoke... but with no substance at all...

A shadow.

The shadowy substance continued to pour out of his gaping mouth. Lyburn choked on his own screams. Soon twin streams of it began to jet from his nostrils... and then his ears. The stuff gathered in a heap in front of him, and then rose into the air, still connected to Lyburn by thick cords of still-emerging ephemera. Every orifice of his body began pumping it out. The birthing-pains increased a hundred-fold, but Lyburn could only shake and whimper blindly. He couldn't see. His eyes were gone... two more orifices through which the shadow-thing could emerge.

"LYBURN!" shouted Tucker. He tried to get close, but fear held him back. Soon, he too was shaking... form terror. The shadow was pouring off of his friend like a river... and worse still, it was beginning to take shape in the air before him. A horrible, horrible shape. "LYYYYBUURRNNNN-"

KRUC-TCH!

Tucker's cry choked away as Lyburn's head exploded like a melon. The inky tethers tying the shadow-thing to Lyburn fell away... like umbilical cords being cut.

"Oh GOD!"

"fffFFRRRREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"

The shadow's cry was like steel on slate... it cut through Tucker's soul with all the ease of a sharp sword. The shadow-thing hovered in the darkness and shot down toward the cowering drunk. Tucker raised his lantern just as it reached him

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The thing retreated to the rear of the inn, and Tucker ran for the door.

"HELLLLLP!!!"

The door burst open before he could reach it. Tucker caught a glimpse Thomas, a local townsman, rushing in with his sword drawn. They collided, and BOTH of their lamps fell to the floor and went out.

It was dark.

Pitch dark.

"Thomas! Thomas is that you!"

"What's going ON in here! I could hear you screaming clear across the-"

"IT'S HERE! Just like in the scroll! It killed LYBURN!"

"What?! What scroll? What happened to Lyburn?"

"His head... oh, GOD! THE LIGHT! WE NEED LIGHT! OH GOD, ITS IN HERE WITH US IN THE DAAARRRK!!!!!!"


"Calm down..."

There was an eerie silence.

"Thomas?"

Nothing.

"Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Thomas... find the LAMPS! It's in here... its in here with us!"

"Yes it is. In here. With you."

"Thomas? Thomas is that you? Thomas what are you DOING! THOOAAAIIIIIIIIIIGGG-"

[To Be Continued]