Changeling

It wasn’t hard sneaking aboard the Cardiff. And it wasn’t hard changing my appearance as the days stayed off their stow away radar. I was just another crew member or a ghost they thought they saw.

I wasn’t looking forward to being so close to the Leech. I could have taken the direct route and gone south from my last guild house. But it would skirt me past the Leech. Or even through the Leech. The soul sucking, depression making crater of the Shadowfell too close to the Material plan. Some said that it was all in Shadowfell, that it was no longer a tear in the fabric of existence. Many a writer wrote tales of adventures heading into the Leech to find glory and honor. But there was never any truth to it. 

Only the Shadar-kai left the Leech. And even those few who did returned home — except Riva. Riva stayed and founded the guild. The Macabre Genesis. It held some meaning to him and the great Riva gave us purpose. A purpose that only guild members knew, and even fewer of us have said to have met the man. I never had. Nor did I want to. Men wrapped in myth and legend were always a letdown.

But my mission came first. At the bottom of the pier, I stood and looked out into the town of Ashbourne. The pressing in of Shadowfell felt like an irritating rash against my skin. How people lived here was beyond comprehension, but they did, and here a boy lived, and made a potion that removed the despair. My mission. But where might a boy go if Boogle’s were on your list of ingredients? 

I could seek the guild and ask their advice. Or maybe the Dock handlers knew something? But asking about a Boogle might raise suspicion. I could just head to the nearest inn and listen for rumors of strange creatures living nearby or wander the city? 

All I knew was I couldn’t stand here forever.