"Am I dead...?

Mired in shadow, a young knight leans heavily against a moss covered rock. His armor is worn and beaten and he carries the weight of sorrows several lifetimes long. The sword he holds in his hands-shorn clean off in the middle was once his fathers, and before that, his grandfathers. He ignores the flashes of light, the imposing darkness, all consumed by his grief.

"How did I come to this place..?"

Amheurst looked around the weary cavern. Travelers were congregating near a bonfire in the basin of the cave. The smoke unfurled and disappeared into the gathering mists above. The warm light from the flames fought the seemingly endless darkness of that place, save for the strange shafts of light that occasionally appeared and disappeared. Amheursts thoughts turned from his past and he began trudging towards the bonfire, broken sword still in hand.

"What use is this thing to me now...? All is lost...father would be...if he could be...I don't know what." The image of his father flashed through his mind. It was not of a man in full glorious plate armor atop his steed, axe at the ready as most men might remember the Lord of Guilliam Keep, but rather the simple work tunic he often wore when Amheurst would join him in the stables, late at night when the servants were asleep in the loft or drunk at the local tavern.

Boarding the horses together was one of the few times that Amheurst felt an equal with his father. He became more personable or...less Lord of Guilliam Keep and more Bran, father of six. Amheurst was the youngest and his thoughts continued to spin from memory as he approached the bonfire. Others had gathered at the place of warmth and were talking. The light played strange tricks in this place concealing the other travelers faces. Amheurst clutched the remains of his families broken sword to his chest and and waited for the others to step into the light.

She was deposited in the dark.

That wasn't so bad. Gish quite enjoyed the dark. Squatting in the dark was something of a hobby of hers. She could linger wherever she wanted, however long she wanted, and there was no risk that people would throw things unless they had the misfortune of stumbling over her. Even then, she could usually be gone by the time they turned to look. No, the dark wasn't the reason she as confused. It was more that she couldn't understand how she'd got here.

"Bad." She croaked lowly to herself, then slapped her hands over her mouth as the chamber seemed to carry the barely-a-whisper off to the far corners of it. Around her the calm shadows were interrupted with bright flashes, the outlines of other figures briefly visible before merging with the dark. The only consistent portion of light in the chamber was a roaring bonfire. She took it as a sign, and advanced slowly toward it.

As she got closer, she listened. Under the crackle of the fire and the rumble that permeated the entire chamber she could hear others around the fire, breathing. She didn't care to step into the light, instead trying to enjoy the nostalgic atmosphere, but as longer went without anyone speaking she could feel a strange tension building up in her. A nervous shiver forced its was into her throat, and seemed to force her jaw open against her will.

"We've suffered a bizarre fate, haven't we?" She asked the other dark figures at the edge of the firelight.

It floated effortlessly, the suddenly erupted bonfire having caught it's attention. It identified and acknowledged it's luck of the situation, being in the presence of such strange and alien creatures... At least, that's what they appeared like to the Mindskitter. They survived in packs, most definently, yet he could not pinpoint the pack's exact number as more came into view. Perhaps the mental confrontation of one of it's members would unveil hidden meaning behind this, these, species. A simple glide and he was hiding behind a peculiarly lack-luster specimen hurrying to the bonfire. He held a broken piece of metal, and was even adorned metal, perhaps this was simply a cultural tradition? No matter, it would know momentarily.

Syncing with the creature, (it was quite easy, they were very simple-minded). The Mindskitter began to drink the juices of his cerebral-

"Oh goodness this is glorious.", it thought.

A whole royal feast and banquet lay on the beast's mindful tongue as he gorged thoughts of stables and knightly modesty. This delicious coarse was to be savored, indeed. The body of the mythic creature dissolved into the low lying vines and moss pads as he continued his pyschely bonded serving. These creatures, if they did not differ from this male, would be a godsend.

Amheurst barely heard the girls query, engrossed as he was in his own thoughts. Besides, the warmth of the fire was so welcome after lingering in the cave for...

"How long have I been here...?

The questions were unending. But here, in the light of the fire surrounded by others-nameless though they be, Amheurst felt a new sensation. It was a tingling, at the back of his neck. He clenched his family's sword tighter still. The tingling sensation continued and the knight supposed he was simply exhausted.

"No...something is wrong here...

"We've suffered a bizarre fate, haven't we?" She asked the other dark figures at the edge of the firelight.

"Fate is shaped by the actions of our forebears. I am Amheurst, of House Guilliam," said the knight, turning to face the short, non-descript girl. Amheurst gave the girl a second look. Perhaps it was the distorting light of the fire, but Amheurst felt unsettled looking at the girl...

"I am a knight in the service...of..of.." Amheurst faltered. He could not remember whom he had been fighting for before arriving in the cavern. He rubbed his neck as it continued to tingle. Amheurst felt phantom tendrils drill into his neck. Where there should have been pain instead he found pleasure.

"What...is happening...to...me?

Fate. Yes, fate was in the hands of the forebears, that was what she had been taught. That this was the first response she received was like a message from the Great Sea Mother herself, telling her that this was all part of the plan. She was here for a reason. Believing that paradoxically both calmed and excited her, though not as much as revelation of Amheurst's identity.

"A real knight?" She asked breathless, almost hopping forward despite herself. Nobody in the small hamlet that sat near the edge of the swamp was anywhere near that incredible. She'd spent many a night sitting by some lighted window, listening to a parent recount tales of daring do to a wide eyed child. "With a horse and everything? Fighting monsters, saving damsels, righting wrongs? Jousting men over honor? Are you on a quest?"

Echo came into a new room to this massive cavern. It was certainly seemingly endless. It's wonders seemed innumerable as well. Every room held new wonders. Some rooms being large enough to hold battles between the grandest of armies and navies, while others could barely fit a couple if they embraced. This room itself was large in most comparisons, but mediocre for this particular dungeon.

Echo is seemingly everywhere in the dungeon. He doesn't remember where or when he began his quest to map the cave system, but since it's start, he has scouted a very large portion of it. He doesn't keep any scrolls or maps, but merely memorizes the passages he's wandered. Even to say he's memorized it is a stretch. He really just has hunches that somehow tend to be helpful in the long run.

He put out his lantern as he emerged from the dark tunnel into the awkwardly lit room. Beams of light came and went as the only stagnant source of light was a fire towards the middle of the room. It seemed like some other folk were gathering around it. He had known most people in the system to be rather complacent if not friendly. There certainly were there dangers though. Too may times had he felt his life on a thread as he slipped away from various creatures. As rare as the rooms themselves were the creatures here. He'd begun to feel like seeing two of a kind was an unnatural occurance anymore.

As he approached the group he noticed one such creature. It appeared to be connected to the back of an armored man. He seemed slightly perturbed, but not by the presence of the thing. Unless he didn't know it was there. Time spent in the dungeon had given him a sense of these things. He quietly approached the fire closer to the girl. His presence wasn't really known until the fire's glow lit up his features. He instantly began to use his lantern's staff to write in some dirt next to the girl. For the sake of time and speed this was all he wrote.

'Does he know it's there?'

She instinctively shrank back at the sudden approach of the strange white figure, but as the thing drew in the dirt curiosity got the best of her and she inched back forward to read.

Did he know what was there? She looked at the white figure, then back at Amheurst, then back at the message again. "What do you mean?" She asked, but at the same time was making her way around the edge of the fire to get a closer look at the knight. Her eyes widened as it came into view, an odd, abominable shape hiding in the shadow of the knight. Lord Mother, it was as big as her, and it was attached to the poor man.

She dashed to the bonfire and grabbed the very edge of a piece of wood that was sticking out. Popping sparks flew into the air as she wrenched it from the pile and whirled the still burning end toward Amheurst. "Don't move Sir." she said, slowly approaching the man from the side so that she could see the thing. "Just stay calm. You got nothing to worry about. You just got a leech. It ain't that big. I deal with this all the time. Hold still."

Then she hopped forward and jabbed at the thing with the hot end.

The Mindskitter had not feasted like this in days. The savory taste of steak to potroast, finally transforming into the bitter taste of dark chocolate. This man had experienced his father's shadow for years, his sorrow a sad treat offered up to the abomination. Oh, how the mental parasite could not contain itself, what a life tale! It shed it's momentary cover in the bushes to hide, instead, in the shadow of the knight, nearly latching onto him. The potency of the consumed knowledge grew with such increased proximity. It's gluttony became foolishness, as it dismissed the shadows facing him near the bonfire.

The hot board cut into it nicely. The Mindskitter did not shriek in any form except mentally, leaving his armored host with the ringing of agony as it dismissed it's mental synchronization with him. It saw the girl, a midget fish spawn if anything, and the sticky substance the abomination's wound had sprayed on her arms. The burnt wood was soon broken out of the invaded skin and flung at the girl, splintering, and the Mindskitter's cerebral plane opened up to the assailant;

The shift was invisible to all but the Mindskitter and "Gish", her name unveiled through a newly synced knowledge consumption. The Mindskitter could now easily tap into the swampbreed's memories and ideals, using them against her. Yet, the thoughts of the bayou-born were much more religiously zealous then it had previously expected (the legend hadn't really expected those results at all, honestly). This did give it a start, at least. Digging further, the beast found a memory of a lost mother. Abandonment and condemnation, a perfect retaliation. infiltrating the visual stimuli of her cerebral, it brung upon her a vision of her mother's departure complete with vivid sensations of religious faltering. Ah, the revenge was sweet. It closed the plane, leaving a message of nuetral tone reprimanding the fish and asking for the silence of any other endeavors.

The Mindskitter quickly weaved into the curtain of vines that clothed the bonfire area, finding refuge in a round of bushes (all of which resembled tied together branches of a palm tree). It was a simple retreat from others that might have found it's body a butcher's meat. It still possessed great sight of the situation, as well as a mental, consuming sync with this Gish. It was utterly curious of these creatures' reactions to the aberration's abilities, especially the receiving end of that aquatic humanoid.

Noticing the odd girls reaction to the thing, it seemed she knew it to be a bad creature of sorts. He moved with her to back her up, but didn't attack at first. He had been reprimanded before when he jumped in on a fight without permission.

As the creature threw the board back, Echo assumed it meant her harm as well now. Even if it was only self defense, he was going to side with the girl until the violence settled. It's next actions were unusual, but then it retreated into some bushes before Echo could act on it as well. He did notice it keeping a tentacle to her now though and that was certainly unacceptable. A white wisp appeared in his lantern and glowed rather oddly. At least maybe the minds litter would see its oddity. The light spanned several realms in a fiery fit. As he came down on the tentacle it was smashed and began to burn.

The whole ordeal seemed to take less than three seconds. The girl seemed a little shocked and he was worried of her care. He didn't what this creature did to her. He couldn't ask her how she was, so he merely rubbed her back to try and console her. That is unless the creature still decided to reach out. Then he would certainly react with hostile intentions.

She was surprised as the board cut into the creature, coating her arms in what could only be the creatures blood. No leach back how was that fragile. She didn't have long to think as the thing wrenched the wood about and hurled it at her. The impact knock her off her feet, he hat flying in the air and landing in the moss behind her. She tried to pull herself up as the thing turned, saw some quick movement, and then@!^&$^@!#%!^!&U^%&!$#

Her mother had always been beautiful. Fair skinned, with not a wrinkle to be found on her face. A laughing smile that could sooth a whole room of its worries. Deep black hair that flowed in the wind like the waves of the sea. It was incredible to think that a woman like that hat given birth to a...thing like her. Throughout her life Gish had always been convinced that this woman, despite the love she was showered with, could not possibly be her mother. She'd been found abandoned in some hollow log, or had grown from some tree deep in the swamp, or fairies had stolen the woman's rightful child and left her in its place. She didn't believe these things anymore. There was never a doubt that she was her mothers child, not after what had happened.

It had been a new moon when they heard the call from their modest little shack in the swamp. A deep, reverberating cry that felt like it should have shook the settings from the table. A mournful, beautiful thing. She tried to go and see, but Mother had grabbed her and pulled her into her arms, soused the lights, and carried her under the covers of the bed. Their hot food was left undisturbed the entire night, and Gish finally fell asleep listening to her the her mothers repeated, guttural prayers to her god.

Over the next few weeks her mother began to change. Not in any way that was important, but dramatically all the same. Gish felt ashamed that she was actually kind of happy as the woman turned to the color of wet ash, as her features distended and bloated like a drowned corpse, as her lips began to recede and her eyes began to widen. Her pain was obvious, though whether it was from the transformation itself or some great weight pressing down on her mind she couldn't tell.

Finally, on a night of the full moon, they heard the call again. Her mother took her and laid her in bed. She tried to speak, but by this point she couldn't manage any language that Gish could understand. Still, she made her point clear. No matter what Gish was to stay indoors. Then, giving one last look back at her progeny, she stepped out and shut the door.

Gish waited until her footsteps disappeared, then followed.

She found her mothers dress on the porch, torn and wet, and saw points of light moving out into the swamp. She crept through the dark for what felt like hours, spying on then quiet as a mouth. She saw them sometimes, by the light of their torches, creatures like mother. She heard them speaking the guttural prayer, which sounded much more natural in their voices. Sometimes she caught sight of her mothers long black hair. She followed them deeper, and deeper into the swamp. They moved around the poisoned gases that rose from the muck and stepped through the quick mud that could swallow a cow in two minutes. The predators, usually so numerous, avoided them, until at last they came to the ocean.

Gish had never seen the ocean. Her mother had described it, but the swamp where they lived was inland so she had no real idea what it looks like. Still, there it was. It must have been the ocean. In the moonlight she saw the procession moving down the shoreline, and in an instant she wanted to run out to meet them and dive into the waves. Then she heard the call again, and remembered the words of her mother. She stopped herself, and watched as the congregation returned the call in a chorus of voices. Something turned out there in the water, a shadow just below the surface, and the group made their way into the surf. She caught sight of the last in line, one with deep black hair that reflected the moonlight, and the figure turned and looked right at her. She gasped and bolted from her hiding spot, back toward the swamp.

Then she heard a rumble that she didn't remember. Something enormous breaking out of the surf. She glanced back and saw a shadow blot out the moon, dripping and bleeding a fine mist. One massive hand that seemed to cover the whole sky reached out grasp her. The god of her mother. The great beast that dwelt in the oceans and spawned all life. The hateful thing that had torn her from the arms of the only other creature on earth that loved her! As it smashed through the tops of the trees Gish knew it was hopeless to run from the horrible thing and threw herself into the mud. She felt the monsters hand slam down on her, knocking the wind from her lungs. As it dragged her through the muck back toward the sea she looked up and saw the Leech thing! It waved one tentacle in the air like like a chiding finger. She opened her mouth to call out to it, only for it to be filled with the taste of ocean salt. She spit, hacked, started to drown, was drowning, couldn't breath, could brea%$@#$%^$##%W$#$

She woke up face down in the dirt, head throbbing. Someone was touching her back. She turned quickly toward the warm feeling. "Mothe-"

The question died on her lips as she looked at the strange white figure from before. She was momentarily confused, then it came rushing back. She was in this strange cavern. "What happened?" She asked, looking around. "Where's the leech thing?"

---

Amheurst

---

The familiar sound of combat, shouts and fire, and..

Oh...gods...the pain...!

Amheurst cried out as the Mindskitter withdrew its tendrils. Thoughts & memories flashed in distant echoes of agony. This was a pain that rendered his half plate armor useless and forced Amheurst to drop his broken blade. He fell to his knees clutching his ears in pain and then all went dark as he slumped over unconscious.

Memories flooded his mind that were not his. Oceans and willow'o whisps, lost mothers and a hunger that was insatiable. His eyes flashed open and he sat up next to the girl named... Gish.

How do I know her name? Was it that...thing?

The man creature with the lantern was giving comfort to the poor girl. A strange sight in the gloomy cavern. The crowd around the bonfire had dispersed in the ruckus, each shadowy figure fleeing to...wherever. The halls were endless after all.

"What happened? Where's the leech thing?"

"It attacked me," said Amheurst. "I think it was...feeding on my memories. Is it gone?"

Amheurst recovered his broken blade and slowly staggered to his feet.

Having both the girl and the man inquiring about the creature, Echo pointed to the bush in which it was hidden. Whether they got his implied message that it was hiding in there was another thing.

The man seemed to think it fed on memories. Echo wondered for a moment if it could find his memories. He couldn't really remember anything before the halls. At the same time if it stole the memories then he would certainly never find them. He wasn't willing to give that a chance right now. To much was unknown about the creature.