A Shadow of My Former Self
You think that's funny, do you? You won't be laughing once I'm done telling you my tale of woe. And woeful it surely is! I'm not even exaggerating, not even a little bit! Honest! It's taking a bit of getting used to, this being back in my old body and getting a grip on my powers again, old and new. Maybe if I hadn't had quite so many coffees on that fateful morning I wouldn't have been so rushed, and my own grasp of those powers might not have failed me, and I might not have kissed the cool lips of the void. Because seriously, I thought I was done with all that "chilling out on death's door" stuff. It's so overrated. But there I go with the jumping ahead of myself and trying to lure you in with the promise of dramatic future events when I haven't given you the setup yet. What a stinker. We (by which I mean everyone else, mainly Vondal and Harkill, as I was happy to spend a few days kicking back at the bar and occasionally making a trip to a local bakery to sample the wares) decided we might need to bring this matter of the defiled temple and the murdered priest to the attention of the authorities. Along the way we discovered that many strange happenings had been going on in the town, most of which led me to quite firmly believe that these shadow fey, whoever they are, had appeared from another time and were trying to re-impose an ancient past on the present day world. Everyone else seemed to think this was crazy, that the elves are from another realm, but you tell me, who sounds crazier? My explanation is by far the more plausible. Anyhoo, turns out that said authorities were rather useless creatures with no idea what to do about the problem and, us being the scions of heroism that we are, they enlisted our aid. Not that we ever managed to get as far as negotiating our fee for said help, mind you. Not even a per diem or coupons for free bagels or anything. Cheap bastards. Our investigations did not reveal much, other than the fact that many of the temples in the city were boarded up and silent, their priests and servants disappeared, and even our attempts to break in proved fruitless. Which just added to my theory that these places were not in fact barred against us, but FROZEN IN TIME, making our (unauthorised but highly necessary) entry to these places impossible. And then the damned shadows came alive. Not just any shadows, but OUR shadows. I'll admit, I was surprised. It only went downhill from there, when the blasted things attacked us. Nothing quite erodes one's self-confidence like having your own shadow turn on your and start sapping at your life's energy. We were caught in a box, wrapped up by our own shadows and more shapeless forms that threw dark magics at us from the shades. In the opening moments of that battle, I was in control. My curses flew, my darkspiral twisted and spat brilliant death at the apparitions, yet they kept coming. Every time the shadows were banished, more flooded forth to take their place. Every trick we could summon was quashed as the stronger of the devilish foes moved out of our clutches, leaving nothing in their wake but shadow. The enemies wore us down, and before I knew what was happening the walls were spinning away, up and up, the world turning dark. I sank into that same dark slumber, the void of the grave, if you will, perchance, allow me the melodrama of the moment. Hello, death, it's me, Akmenos. Again. Damn it. Snowfoot's primal power roared through me and I came back from the brink of death, but my strength was sapped. The shadows had stripped me of my life-force, and my hands shook with the weakness of it. Finally, between Enna and Harkill and Vondal, the last of the beings were dispatched, back to their nether darkness. Yet my legs still totter, and I fear that the next time I try to run I shall fall, the next time I try to fight I shall falter. I have not been able to rest for the nightmares, so my strength will not come back to me. I fear very much what shall befall us if this continues. I am hoping that a large pile of bacon, eggs, sausage and toast with fresh coffee will remedy this, but somehow I doubt it. It is not a human hunger that gnaws at me, but the dark grumblings of the shadow realm, and I suspect that I will have to face that shadow before I can shake off this ennui, this sucking menace that drains away my strength. At the very least, I shall go armed with a full stomach. Who's got the salt?