Along the riverbank in Shadowdale forest

This is a night darker than others. During the time where the days grow short, and the nights long, there was reasonable large stone at the riverbank, fairly close to the rivercrossing towards Fox ridge.

Not much to look at, this grey stone with moss growing at it's base and tall grass all around. It was an insignificant grey stone of which there were many across the riverbank of Shadowdale's forest. Not much to look at, and easily ignored by travellers.

Yet it is this stone where a story begings, one not many know off, and even fever believe to be real.

You see, on the surface of this grey stone are several scratches barely noticable and even when seen just believed to be part of the Stone's long history. Storms, branches and scratches from other stones. Hardly any marking of any particulair use.

However some of the scratches on this so insignificant looking stone have some relevance to the story that now unfolds on this night darker than others.

You see, every ten minutes a strange figure appears on this rock. Six times over, and disapears after just a minute or so. And at the sixth minute of the sixth time it had appeared on the stone, fague letters had appeared on the stone. Between the scratches, it was barely noticable.


Then when the ten minutes were over, the little figure of light and shadow had disapeared. Never to return again this night, or any other of the following nights. Yet, the words so barely noticable remained on the rock forever. Seen by a few perhaps, understood by even less.

Two words which repeated themselfs, and then a fague drawing. Almost a scetch; that of a mask. This mask not seen in years.

And one last sentence in an Elven dialect so unknown. What could it mean?

Ku'lam!
Ku'lam!

Kestal zhah Oirna

Lore 20:

Lyons: