The Realm of Shadows contains many powerful beings and creatures that no adventurer ever wants to encounter. By far the most dreaded and deadly is a monster simply called The Beast.

It is not known what this creature is exactly or where it came from. Some believe it was the creation of an insane god. Others believe it was created when the realm and universe first formed. Most believe it is a unique entity. This may or may not be the case, but only one has ever been encountered at a time.

Few tales exist of encounters with this monster most likely because those that encounter it don't live to speak of it. However, the stories that do exist share a few common themes.

The Beast is extremely deadly. It can rip a man in two with one blow and toss a steed aside with one swipe of its claws.

The Beast seems impervious to attacks both physical and magical. Noone knows for a fact whether this is true or not, but there are no stories which contain accounts of something visiably harming the Beast.

There is only one way to survive an encounter with the Beast. Run. No sane person expects to slay this creature. Travellers to the Realm pray they never see this monster. If they do, most hope their steeds are fast enogh to out run it.

It had been weeks since our last encounter with anything of interest. At least I think it had been weeks. It had gotten so damn difficult to remember. Without a sun to watch rising and falling on the horizon, each twenty-four hour period blended together. We did our best to keep track, but none of us really knew how accurate we were being.

We set up camp yet again. I couldn't recall how many times we had done this now. We had no real schedule, we simply stopped to rest whenever we got tired of riding. In the beginning we had forced ourselves to press on as long as possible, but now we figured there wasn't much point trying to hurry or cover that extra bit of distance.

The wasteland's dismal landscape had eroded our will to see more. It was always the same, grey soil, rocks, and pools of water. We were happy to see mosses with odd colorings now, that was at least something notable. However, we were not excited enough to exert ourselves in a search for more. It's just moss, who gives a crap? That had become our attitude toward pretty much everything. We desperately needed a change of pace, something, anything to snap us out of our apathetic daze.

What we got was definately not something we wanted. Be careful what you wish for.. You just might get it.

I awoke from a light sleep as I heard commotion outside my tent. The horses were throwing a fit. I could here them snorting and stomping the ground. My men were yelling as well, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

I sat up then stretched. I was very curious to see what was going on, however I felt no need to hurry outside. I yawned deeply then climbed the rest of the way out of my bed roll. I stood and began strapping on my armor.

After a minute or two the commotion outside began to grow quite a bit louder. I continued my work, but increased the pace. I placed my helm on my head and grasped my bow, then headed out of my tent to see what the hell was going on.

I pushed the flap aside then stepped out. My eyes began to roam around the campsite in search of my men. I did not see them, however I could hear their yelling off to my right in the distance.

I looked to the horses, there were only three left tied to the wagon which carried our provisions. There had been fifteen when I had climbed into my tent for the night. I assumed the other twelve had gotten loose. Perhaps that was what the commotion was about. We would not cover much ground on foot. I hoped my men were retrieving them successfully.

My mount had not escaped. I was not surprised by this. She was well trained and one of my loyalest companions. I suspected that she was not pleased with being brought on the journey through this dreary land, but didn't think she was upset enough to abandon me over it.

I moved toward her then stroked her main softly as I murmured to her. "Glad to see your still with us ol girl."

She jerked her head back apparently startled by my touch. Her ears were pinned tightly back as she snorted. I had never seen her act this way. Something was amiss.

I ran my hand along her back as I attempted to calm her. "It's ok girl. Calm down. What's wrong?"

She seemed to calm a bit as her ears rose back up, but she was still nervous about something.

I moved around her then picked up her saddle and blanket from the ground. I placed them on her back carefully. I did not want to spook her. I did not bother with her bit and reins. I untied her slowly as I watched her. I did not think she would bolt, but in her present state I wasn't positive.

She did not bolt, infact she seemed to calm down more now that she was untied. I tossed the rope over her neck then tied the free end to her halter. I climbed upon her back, taking a moment to rub her neck, then rode off toward the sound of my men.

It did not take me long to track them down. After only a few minutes I could see them in the distance. They were on horseback. At first, I thought they had managed to recover our lost steeds. I was wrong.

A deafening roar suddenly swept over me. My mount reared up, but I managed to stay in the saddle. I saw no signs of anything which could have produced such a noise, but it came from dead ahead. My men were engaged in battle with it.

I kicked my mount hard forcing her to charge forward as I readied my bow. It was obvious that she wanted nothing to do with the fighting, however she conceeded to my will and rushed ahead none the less.

As I got closer, I almost wished that I had let her trn around and run. I joined the fight just in time to see Harth our wizard get flung through the air. His body divided into three sections mid flight before they bounced across the ground.

Only six of my men had survived the fighting to this point. The other six, including Harth, had been reduced to mangled masses of flesh. Their body parts and pieces of shattered armor were strewn around the area where ever they happened to come to rest.

My sorcerer Karn was laying on the ground crying out in pain. His left leg had been severed at the hip. My priests were tending to him. Doran hovered over him using curative magic as Ashcroft maintained a magical barrier over them.

Three of my warriors, Bamon, Fores, and Lovel, were gathered about five feet from one another hacking and slashing with their weapons. Their mounts were struggling to run but they kept them under control fairly well.

At first glance it appeared that they were attacking nothing. As I looked closer I realized that indeed there was something there, something dreadful.

It was almost invisible, but if one looked closely he could make out a shimmering in the air. It stretched upward nearly thirty feet. It had a distinct shape to it. It was not exactly humanoid, but it did walk erect. I could make out the two legs it stood on and two arms it was attacking with. It didn't seem to be wielding a weapon. I could make out three clawed fingers on each massive hand. It was using these in battle attempting to shread my men.

The beast roared once again. As it opened its mouth I could see the inside clearly. The shimmering field around the creature did not hide the interior of its gaping jaws. I could see two rows of razor sharp fangs on both the top and bottom.

I took aim and fired two bolts of magic from my bow quickly. I watched them streak into the creatures mouth and explode against the back of its throat. My weapons enchantment was a powerful one. I had used it in battle against some of the mightiest dragons on my world. Its impact had stopped many of them dead in their tracks. I might as well have just spit at the beast. It did not seem to notice my attack.

Its head crashed down on Ashcrofts' barrier. The field exploded in a flash of light. Both he and Doran dove to the side. The beast attacked once again. Its jaws closed around Karn biting him in two.

My warriors continued their onslaught, but it was obvious their strikes were futile. Every blow seemed to connect solidly. None of them even phased the beast.

I had seen enough. I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Retreat!"

My men did not need coaxing. Bamon, Fores, and Lovel, broke off their attack instantly. They rode hard away from the creature. Ashcroft and Doran scrambled to their feet and began to run.

Doran did not get very far. A huge foot came crashing down on him pinning him to the ground. His body crumpled like a tin can being hit by a sledge hammer. He could not be saved.

I rode fast toward Ashcroft. I leaned down and grabbed his arm as I caught up to him then slung him onto the back of my mount. He clung to my waist as we raced away as fast as my steed would go.

She needed little encouragement and didn't seem fatigued after over an hour in a dead run. I made no attempt to slow her.

Eventually, she began to slow. I took this as a sign that the beast was no longer an immediate threat. I looked to my diminished party. I did not know what to say to them or what to ask.

We had lost all of our provisions, our wagon, our tents, and two-thirds of our group, but we had managed to escape with our lives. It might sound odd, but we felt extremely lucky.

From that point on we no longer rested whenever we felt like it. We pressed on as long as possible. We did not do so because we were in a hurry to encounter something of interest. We did so because each inch we travelled was one inch further away. Further away from the Beast.

A passage from The Roamers' Journal

�2001 Joe Pombo