A moment must be taken now to explain something of the truth of the myths that surround the pale wastes. For, if these myths had stayed true through an accurate oral tradition, or even been created from a more honest source, the danger in the wastes could have easily been avoided. But, as the myths and stories about the pale shade have stemmed from half truths and evolved over the meager time they have existed, much has become exaggerated and lost to preserve the ego of the few who have endured encounters with the source of the stories.

While there is some truth to the stories of the pale wraith, and indeed the creature is real and a monster, much is not told. For instance, if the first few dwarves to scrambled across the wastes and encounter the beast had been honest, they might have been arrested for their attempted thefts and their paranoid words gone on to be ignored and a watchman never set. And again, if the first watchman of the Braidarm Quarry Company to sit atop the wastes and warn the stone cutters below had told his friends and family all that actually remained in his memory about the creature he might have spared the next watchman from suffering the same weakened state that he endured for several weeks after being attacked. And again, if the first to encounter the beast had ever revealed that they had later placated it by hiding their stolen goods into the possession of the second watchman… perhaps the story of the pale waste would have been told differently.

For, you see, there are three key things that one must know about the pale wraith and two tertiary things which explain the whole plight of the wraith entirely. The first of the key things is that creatures in the category of the wraith are generally bound to a purpose when they are created, and I say generally to better explain that there are edge cases. Some who create such creatures do so with the intent of cheating death, though this never works, while others create these monsters with very loosely defined purposes. The pale wraith falls under the latter category; with nothing more of a purpose than to live. Second of the key facts, is that the wraith had existed longer than the wastes, making it a very old and very powerful being. And thirdly, that it has only ever attacked an intelligent creature to continue to carry out its purpose and only ever isolated creatures, so as to avoid unnecessary conflict.

The two tertiary facts are more complicated. They do not pertain directly to the existence and nature of the wraith, though they do pertain to the myth that was created in the town of Norwen. The first is that the two miners from Galepost had been the first to encounter the body of the wraith in many many years and they did so accidentally as they slacked off in the wastes; and taking the resting body for a corpse, they stole an item of great importance from the wraith. The second important tertiary fact, is that the item stolen was one which allowed the wraith to survive in the way it wished rather than the way in which it otherwise had to.

So perhaps, reader, you can put these pieces of information together and forgive me for straying so far from the pattern of this story. And hopefully you will appreciate knowing this information before learning what Dovhran planned to do to slake his curiosity, as the changeling’s plan progressed thusly.

Dovhran and Flip stopped for a rest in the dark of the night. They had walked for long enough to actually warrant a rest, and Flip was glad for the break on his feet. Selian, however, maintained her course in the night while Flip conjured a campfire. The sudden light in the vast empty darkness obscured all that laid without the illuminated space. The wizard and mercenary sat down on the hard ground and allowed the navigator to wander off further to the north. The mercenary in particular made a scene of tipping his flask back and draining its contents. Flip likewise acted as he was told and leaned back into a prone position as though he were sleeping, tipping his hat forward so the brim obscured his face. And suddenly, the party of three was in all appearances vulnerable. A rogue with their edge dulled by drink, a navigator alone and in the dark, a wizard asleep and unaware.

By Dovhran’s logic, an intelligent creature with hostile intentions would pick off the weakest of the group. Selian was aware of her surroundings and unobstructed by the fire light and therefor in the greatest strategic position. Flip, though in all appearances asleep, was an unknown with his face covered. Dovhran himself posed the greatest weakness and the greatest advantage to eliminate. He was shielded from Selian by firelight, he was separated across the flames from Flip, he was apparently inebriated, and he had the highest priority as a target as he usually led the way as they traveled. And the creature had surely paid attention to their movements thus far, otherwise why would it have followed them?

Flip was unsure how much of the mercenary’s plan was rooted in vanity, but he could clearly detect a layer of vanity in the logic. Selian was almost certain the plan would yield no results because it meant the creature would have to make the same assumptions as Dovhran, which required it to think the mercenary was as important of a target as Dovhran thought himself to be. And, in this case, there was a great deal of accuracy to the navigator’s theory.

However, as we know, there were several other flaws in the planning that would ultimately cause it to backfire.

The flaws began to become evident as the two men sat at false ease around the ever shrinking arcane camp fire. Nothing seemed to be happening and neither Flip nor Dovhran could see anything beyond the light of the fire. If the wraith was still following them, they had no clue. The plan relied on the assumption that one of the two men would be the target of some sort of attack or that the fire would attract a more feral sort of monster if the wraith was in fact of bestial intelligence. However, all of Dovhran’s assumptions were fundementally wrong. The wraith had no reason to hurt any of the group, it was smart enough to avoid the fire, and it preyed exclusively on isolated targets.

So, as the wizard and mercenary grew more nervous as each passing minute yielded no movement within the realm of the firelight they each began to picture something more and more terrifying circling about them in the darkness. Dovhran, still attempting to behave in a somewhat drunken fashion, fell onto his back and looked up at the sky as a disguise to close his eyes and adjust back to darker lighting. The mercenary’s ears were on the alert, and his palms were pressed firmly to the ground to detect even the slightest shake in the earth beneath him that might mean a creature was approaching. He was preparing himself to leap into the space beyond the firelight.

It was not until a shout pierced the night air that both the wizard and mercenary knew anything was truly amiss. The shout, higher pitched and feminine, was clearly Selian's. The direction of the noise gave away her position as well, but the tone gave Flip a second of pause before he came to attention. It sounded pained. Dovhran did not experience any such hesitation, and was standing and sprinting before the shout even faded from the air.

Flip’s first objective, before even removing his hat from his face, was to extinguish his conjured fire so that he would be able to see in the dark without his eyes adjusting to the light first. This task was easy enough to complete, as ending the spell was only a matter of ceasing to pay it any mind.

With the plateau devoid of firelight, there was a moment of panic for the three travelers as the world seemed to be engulfed in complete blackness and dread. But then the stars began to shine brightly back into their eyes and the world seemed lit up again just as brightly, which was an experience the three had yet to witness and which gave all of them pause in the wonder of their surroundings all over again. They had seen the stars gradually grow into view as the sun vanished from sight, but they had never seen them appear so forcefully and so brightly from seemingly nothing.

Amid the confusion, Dovhran was the first to reach Selian. Flip was close behind him, and scanned the area around them in a circle; mostly with open ears to avoid becoming disoriented, though he did also watched for movement against the pale earth around them.

“What happened?” Dovhran demanded from the elf.

“It snuck up on me. Quiet as the wind.” Selian was taking deep breaths as she spoke in an attempt to calm her racing heart. “I saw it out of the corner of my eye while I was keeping watch and the second I saw it... my mind went blank and I couldn’t think. My heart felt like it was going to explode and all I could do was swing a dagger at it.”

“What did it look like?” Flip muttered, still vigilant on their surroundings. “Was it demonic?”

“It was wrapped up in black fabrics, all I saw were dull red embers on its face… but I know it had claws.” Selian finally slowed her breathing and held up a hand she had been keeping clenched against her stomach. It was stained red with a startling amount of blood.

“It attacked you and then ran off then?”

Selian only barely registered the question, looking away from Dovhran entirely and watching the empty expanse around them. “I cut it first, and then it clawed me… and I’m not entirely sure it ran off.”

Alarmed, Flip performed a wide visual sweep of the waste around them, but saw nothing. Even in the distance, nothing. But perhaps more startling to Flip, was that he was not at all disoriented.

“Give me your hand.”

Selian obliged the wizard’s demand. But when she held out her clean hand, Flip batted it away and gestured for the other one. Rather than hold the bloodied hand, Flip merely wiped off some of the blood onto his own hand and then held out his other hand.

“And the dagger, the one you used to cut it.”

Selian obliged again, this time with something approaching understanding of the wizard’s intent. The first request had caught her off guard, but the elf was familiar enough with magic to understand the need for physical materials. Though, something about the nature of the requests bothered her, as she was aware that blood and weapons were generally only involved in more dangerous and less legal magics.

Flip knelt down and put his whole strength into the motion of stabbing the dagger deep into the stony ground as he offered up an incantation.

Irons to irons,

dissonant chimes wrap ’round;

the spent blood expires

in the cacophonous sound.

Pin this to the earth,

a piton in the tangle

and the vast curve,

to flighty things strangle.

There was a tinkling bell-like sound that reverberated out as the dagger was plunged into the stone. As Selian attempted to move to better see what the wizard had done, she found she could not. The elf could hardly tilt her head to the side. No matter how much she strained her body all she managed to do was cause more blood to flow from her wound with the effort.

“What have you done, Faengil?! I can’t move!” Selian was terrified by the discovery of her paralysis, and though she tried to put more force behind her shouting and protesting, she could hardly raise her voice above a normal talking volume.

“Your body has been trapped in place…” the wizard’s words garnered protest from Selian and Dovhran alike, but he held up his hand in a relaxed gesture to request that the two allow him to finish, “as has the body of the creature. Whatever it may be. I sense that it is invisible or using some form of magic similar to a spell I have used recently to avert our eyes from it.”

“You sense that?” Dovhran hissed, still angry, though now his body seemed to relax somewhat into less of an urgent posture.

“I looked wildly about as I was warned not to this very same day. And nothing happened. Which has made me suspect that whatever this creature is, pale wraith or otherwise, it has some ability to use magic or create an illusion that would alter our sense of sight.”

“Well… it hasn’t shown up.”

“And I’m still bleeding!” Selian glared at Flip with all the malice she could muster, though she was beginning to look more and more pathetic as her face began to pale with blood loss.

“Yes. Please. Close her wounds. The sight and smell of blood is quite nauseating.”

A fourth, unfamiliar voice had spoken in the area around the three, though none of them could detect exactly where it originated. It was steady and light and airy, both pleasant and menacing. The voice, most certainly male, or so Flip decided, gave the impression of confidence and calm. And that confidence gave Flip pause. Flip himself was confident that the spell had worked, the creature would not have made itself known at all if it had not, but it hardly sounded trapped or alarmed by its predicament.

Flip shrugged as Dovhran glared at him. The wizard gestured to the mercenary but the only exchange that occurred between them was a silent give and take of gestures and confusion.

“I’ll look for a phial of wound closure.” Flip sighed. He had wanted to avoid letting this creature know anything about the hatch if at all possible. But the situation was becoming urgent once again and it seemed the only healing supplies between the three of them were in the flat.

“If you have nothing on hand, I can close her wounds. Though, it will require that you pay a price for the service.”

The voice, again, sounded far more in control than Flip would have liked.

“What price?” It was Selian now who demanded answers, and she was the first to address the creature directly. “And why should it be paid when it’s you that’s done this to me?”

“I ask for nothing more than honest answers to questions.”

“I can’t agree to…”

“I agree.” Selian cut Dovhran off.

As soon as the elf agreed, there was a shift in the world around all three of the travelers, as though something that had existed only on the periphery of their awareness had become fully visible. Standing not three feet away from Selian, looming over all three at a height of perhaps six and a half feet tall and with perfect posture, was a thin humanoid creature. It was covered in ragged black cloth, rendering it nearly invisible even without the aid of whatever magic had hidden it before. The only visible elements that gave away anything of the creature’s true nature were its dull red glowing eyes and the pale white skin visible around its finger tips. The finger tips stood out to Flip due to the inch long claw-like nails that grew from them. The claws on the left hand were red with blood.

“I would request that you hold still, child, but we are both bound in place to an alarming degree.” The creature’s body did not move as it spoke. And though the words it spoke could have been construed as humor, there was no trace of laughter in the creature's voice.

There was a moment of silence, as nothing seemed to happen, that made both Flip and Dovhran deeply uncomfortable. Then a shimmering blue light seemed to radiate off of the creature. It’s hands and forearms, which were folded neatly across its torso, frozen in a position of relaxed impatience, shimmered with light like the sun filtering through still and clear brackish water. But the light was not coming directly from its hands, or so Flip noticed. Rather the light was an illumination of something he had not thought possible. The arcane restraints which had been conjured on both Selian and the creature, which Flip had thought only hypothetical, were made visible as they were illuminated by a power the wizard was entirely unfamiliar with. Chains, which became visible slowly across the creature’s entire body continued down from its form to where the dagger had been forced into the ground. The light spread like red heat in forged steel as it illuminated the chains, past the dagger, revealing chains around the body of Selian where she knelt on the ground.

Flip and Dovhran watched in confusion as Selian’s blood began to retract back into her wound, leaving her hand clean as though it had never been stained red. Selian herself let out a deep breath of relief.

“There. That is better.” The creature sighed. “Blood is such an unsightly thing. It disturbs me to my very core witness it flow in such a manner.”

As the blood vanished and the two ensnared individuals relaxed, the creature’s eyes ceased to glow. Flip, who’s eyes were still locked onto the creature’s hands, also took note that its claws withdrew at the same time; leaving behind only normal nails as though the creature were itself some form of average humanoid being. Perhaps it was even human. Speculation raced through the wizard’s mind.

“Now that there is no danger present, I would very much like to talk.” The creature announced in the same steady voice.

“Only, we haven’t actually agreed to talk.” Dovhran hissed.

Before warning could be given, the changeling charged forward to the creature with shortsword in hand. Warning was, however, warranted. Though Flip hardly had time to explain that or why it was the case.

The creature’s arm moved swiftly but casually through the air, as though there were no effort involved in the action at all, and batted away the downward swing of the shortsword like it was a bothersome fly. Before Dovhran could regain his footing, the long leg of the creature casually swept out and hooked around Dovhran’s ankle. With a smooth movement, the creature pulled the mercenary’s foot out from under him and relaxed into a comfortable sitting position. The completion of the creature's sitting motion coincided with Dovhran's collapse to the ground.

“I will allow this attack to go unanswered, lest I cause more accidental damage.” The creature held up a hand to stay the mercenary’s next attack as it spoke. Dovhran, sword still in hand and ready to twist into an attack from where he lay on the ground, froze in uncertainty. “And as a sign of good faith, now that I’ve no reason to conceal myself, I will address you as equals.”

The creature began to unwrap the cloth from its face, revealing an unexpected visage underneath.