Chapter 17: 1.17 – Unexpected Depths

The crack of that stone breaking echoed down to Robin’s very bones. Reflexively, he drew back against the wall and covered himself with a [Lesser Phantasm] to keep himself hidden. 

‘Something big is coming!’ he shouted.

‘Fall back to the last campsite,’ Lantha shouted, ‘Fiamah—’

Before she could finish her sentence, a massive wave of darkness coiled up out of the crack in the floor. It coalesced into the outline of an exaggerated elvin woman, brawny and sharp, whose hips tapered off into a massive serpent’s tail. 

‘Yvon-Rael,’ Robin breathed.

The shadow jerked at the sound of its name, whipping around and seeking the source of the sound. Robin bit his lip and renewed his [Lesser Phantasm]. He needed to get to the door.

Before he could make his move, however, the shadow struck out at Grathilde. The dwarf shouted weakly and shot small arcs of electricity from her fingers. The blue-white bolts danced through the shadow, and the monster keened in pain and fury. 

In retaliation, the shadow raked Grathilde with its claws, yanking so much strength from the dwarf that she collapsed, unmoving. 

‘Grathilde!’ Lantha screamed. 

Fiamah hurled a ball of holy flame at the shadow, driving it away from their fallen comrade. Lantha charged forward, knives slashing uselessly through the incorporeal form of Yvon-Rael.

‘Fall back!’ Lantha screamed. ‘Ora-Jean! Grab Grathilde and carry her out of here. Fiamah! Robin! Cover her!’

A distraction? Robin’s mind scrambled. Then he threw out the first thing he could think of.

The illusion of a miniature sun blazed to life in front of the shadow. It didn’t throw out the same light as the sun. It wasn’t any brighter than one of Lantha’s magelights. It didn’t have much effect at all. If the shadow was surprised or scared, it showed no sign.

Of course! Why would a shadow fear light or the sun? Light created shadow. It must be the fire or the holy energies in Fiamah’s spell that did the damage. 

He needed to do something else. And quick. Ora-Jean had slung Grathilde over her shoulder (so strong for someone so short!), and the action had drawn the shadow’s attention.

Robin cast [Lesser Phantasm] twice in quick succession, followed by [Cutting Words].

A full-face mask, the kind you see on theatre programmes, appeared floating in the darkness, a mocking smile on its face. Moments later, it began to move and speak, the words provided by Robin’s second [Lesser Phantasm]. The words and the motion were horribly out of sync, but hopefully the shadow wouldn’t notice. 

As a distraction, it worked. The shadow whirled on the apparition, shrieking and lashing out at the mocking face. The party took the opportunity to retreat, Grathilde flopping weakly over Ora-Jean’s shoulder.

Behind them, a frustrated wailing went up. 

‘It’s going to be hot on our heels,’ Lantha gasped between breaths. ‘I’m not sure if we can lose it in these tunnels.’

‘Less talking, more running,’ Ora-Jean panted. ‘I don’t see any of you running for two.’

‘Drop the magelight,’ Robin said. ‘I can see in the dark. I’ll guide us.’

It was gratifying that Lantha didn’t question him. Or question why he was, now of all times, revealing his ability to make do without light. 

A branch in the corridors appeared ahead of them. Robin quickly adjusted his plan.

‘No, wait, send the light down that corridor. I’ll set the illusion of us fleeing down that way as well. It’s close. Hopefully it’ll hear and take the wrong turn and buy us some time.’

Lantha didn’t hesitate. She just nodded sharply and sent her magelight singing down the other corridor. Robin flexed his fingers through the passes of [Lesser Phantasm].  

Deception, don’t fail me now! 

Robin linked hands with Lantha as the party formed a chain, and he led them forward as fast as he dared. Behind them, they heard the keening of the shadow as it pursued the phantasm and the dancing magelight down the other corridor. They had their head start! Now not to waste it. 

The party dashed through the tunnels until they made it to their former campsite. The room had two entrances. Ora-Jean carefully lowered Grathilde down in a corner and then dashed over to secure one of them. Lantha was already securing the one they just passed through.

Not that either would keep out a being that could slip through the smallest of cracks. The doors were hardly hermetically sealed. 

‘Robin, come help me, please,’ Fiamah called quietly from her position near Grathilde. 

‘What can I do?’ he asked, kneeling next to her.

‘There’s not a lot I can do right now. She needs time to regain her strength. Or I need time to intercede with my goddess on her behalf. Neither of which we’re going to get, I suspect. Hold her head.’

Robin gently braced a hand on each of Grathilde’s temples. Fiamah murmured a brief prayer and began checking the dwarf over.

‘What are you doing?’ Robin asked. ‘Anything more I can do to help?’

‘No, you’re doing just fine.’ Fiamah checked different points on Grathilde’s body. ‘I’m checking for damage. See? Here and here where the skin is particularly pale? Those are the places the shadow made contact. They are colder than the surrounding flesh, but I don’t feel any damage, and it’s not been frozen or ruptured. She should be fine, so long as she can regain a bit of her strength.’

Proficiency Unlocked: Healing.

Well, that might certainly come in useful, if he ever got a chance to use it! 

‘I wish I still had my satchel!’ Fiamah cursed. ‘I had some healing herbs in there that might have helped.’

‘I’d settle for a potion,’ Grathilde croaked, opening her eyes. ‘I feel weak as a newborn flywacket.’

‘I’m afraid we don’t have any of those, either.’ Fiamah said. ‘Glad you’re still with us.’

‘We need a plan,’ Lantha called softly from the door. Her head was cocked to one side and she seemed to be listening to something. ‘It’s getting closer. I don’t think we can get out of this place before it finds us.’

‘And we don’t know that there isn’t something even worse lurking outside the walls,’ Ora-Jean added. ‘This place has too many defences to make me think there isn’t something out there to defend against.’

‘Well, what do we have that will hurt it? And what do we know about it?’ Robin asked. 

‘My flame, your words, Grathilde’s lightning,’ Fiamah listed off the obvious ones. ‘I can bless Lantha and Ora-Jean’s weapons for a short time, but it will only be temporary, and I only have enough favour of the goddess left today to do so once.’

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‘Can you call out to her and get a one-time exception?’ Robin asked. 

‘If only,’ Fiamah smiled grimly. ‘And it’s more my limitation than hers. My body can only withstand channelling so much holy energy in a given day. If I push too far…’

‘She’ll go up like a firework on the Winter Solstice,’ Grathilde finished. ‘Same as I would if I tried to channel much more aeromantic power.’

‘So we need to hit it and hit it hard in a short period of time,’ Ora-Jean said. 

‘Preferably somewhere it can’t sneak into the shadows and heal back up,’ Lantha added grimly. ‘That last shadow was trouble enough, and this one is bigger, more dangerous.’

Robin really wished he had access to something like Bardic Knowledge. He had the name of the thing! If only there were some legend that might give them a clue as to how best to defeat it.

‘Does it heal in the darkness or only in shadow?’ he asked instead. ‘Because that would be one way. We don’t have enough light to get rid of all the shadows, so can we do the opposite?’

‘I don’t know,’ Fiamah said after a long moment. 

‘And none of the rest of us can see in the dark,’ Lantha said. ‘We each need at least some light.’ She looked at him. ‘You’ll have to tell us where you gained such an ability. It’s not something one commonly sees in humans. Or bards.’

‘Still not a bard,’ he replied. He dodged the human question for now. He still wasn’t entirely certain what the ‘Shadeling’ entry on his character sheet meant.

Lantha and Fiamah looked like they wanted to ask follow-up questions, but Ora-Jean cut in. 

‘We can discuss who is what and why later. We need to know what we’re doing now to defeat that thing, or none of us will be around to ask questions ever again.’ The halfling cast a grim glance over her shoulder at the door. 

‘We need to hit it and not get hit ourselves, right?’ Robin stood and packed around the room. ‘I can hide two of us with illusions. They won’t last very long, but they should provide some cover. And we’ve got those dried mushrooms. We can build a few small fires. Yeah, there will be a lot of shadows, but if we’ve got enough light in here, maybe they’ll be too small to be much use to that thing.’   

‘And then we just hit it with everything we’ve got, as fast as we can?’ Ora-Jean grinned. ‘That’s about as complex as I like my plans to be anyway.’

‘I guess that leaves me to be bait,’ Robin said reluctantly. ‘So Fiamah can enchant Lantha and Ora-Jean’s weapons, and Grathilde can build up a bit of a charge to hit the shadow with.’

‘I could hit it as soon as it appears,’ the dwarf said stoutly.

‘And then it would go right for you,’ Lantha countered. ‘I’m not sure you can survive another hit. What if it sucks so much strength out of you that your heart can’t muster up enough energy to beat?’

‘I’ll wait for Robin’s signal, then,’ Grathilde said. 

‘Let’s get ready,’ Lantha said, cocking her head to one side. ‘I don’t think we have much more time.’ 

The party sprang into action, setting up small fires and choosing initial attack positions. Lantha crept over to the door and opened it a crack, setting a magelight right above it so they would see as soon as the shadows moved. 

Robin took position in the centre of the room. Standing there, waiting, he gently massaged his hands and tried to talk his heart out of beating its way directly out of his chest. He only had limited success.

This was insane! What was he thinking? Bait for a living shadow? His best weapon some schoolyard insults? No. He’d felled plenty of enemies with those schoolyard insults, and he was standing here as living proof. He could do this. He would do this. 

The shadows moved. Robin yelped. It was here!

‘Now!’ Lantha shouted.

The magelight above the door flared bright, driving the shadow away from the entryway and toward the centre of the room. Toward Robin.

‘Oi! You call yourself a shadow? I’ve seen scarier ink blots!’

The shadow hissed. Fiamah muttered a blessing over Lantha and Ora-Jean’s weapons while Grathilde ran around the room setting fire to small piles of dried mushrooms. 

Light began to fill the room. The shadows shrunk. All except the massive one bearing down on Robin. It lashed out at him and he dodged.

Well, he tried to dodge. A single claw snagged him and a bone-deep chill that stank of despair washed through him. Robin staggered as he suddenly felt like he barely had the strength to stand.

‘What are you all waiting for?’ he shouted before diving right into an attack with [Cutting Words]. ‘This sundial reject isn’t going to vanquish itself. Or will it? I mean, at best it’s a literal shadow of its former self.’

The shadow hissed venomously at Robin after that last quip. That one landed! Did it not like being reminded of its former life? Robin mentally grabbed at the noises it was making and pulled—what, the Language of Shadow?—out of them.

‘You’re nothing like the true Yvon-Rael,’ he spat in words of darkness and shade. ‘You’re a disgrace to even the memory of the person you used to be.’

I will eat your strength and break your bones with the weight of despair! The Shadow of Yvon-Rael howled noiselessly at him. 

It was so fixated on Robin it didn’t notice the rest of the party attack. Lantha’s daggers flew. Ora-Jean’s spear struck true. Lightning lanced from Grathilde’s fingertips and Fiamah flung ball after ball of holy flame at the centre mass of the shadow.

The Shadow of Yvon-Rael ignored them all. Its attention was fixed entirely on Robin. Hatred and malice rolled off it in waves as it lunged at him, raking with the shadow of its claws and lashing out with the shadow of its tail. 

Robin stumbled back, shouting the occasional insult. He dodged and squirmed, but the shadow was too focused on him. It was taking terrible damage in its single-mindedness, but that same focus made it impossible for Robin to dodge every blow. 

And each one that landed made him feel weaker and weaker. The weaker he felt, the harder it was to dodge. Finally, he stumbled and fell hard on his back. 

The Shadow of Yvon-Rael loomed over him, tattered and torn, but terrifying nonetheless.

I will suck the last strength from your body, and your shadow shall rise in my service. You will howl out your misery until the end of time, and I—

What the Shadow of Yvon-Rael would do to him would have to remain a mystery for the ages, as before it could finish speaking, the rest of the party tore it to shreds with their concentrated attacks.

Congratulations! Threshold Achieved! Level-Bonuses Awarded!

Well, that was something. 

Robin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out. 

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