Rain blew sideways into his eyes as he ran through the forest seeking shelter. Clutching his hood closer around his face, he still couldn�t manage to block the rain; it seemed that it was trying to blind him. Brushing away out-stretched tree limbs that seemed to try to claw his flesh from his bones, he stumbled over an exposed root and fell on his face in the mud.

"Yuck, good going Zanthasis," he said to himself, angrily, "you just had to anger that mob back there, you could have gotten yourself killed..."

He continued to swear as he looked around, seeing nothing but darkening forest to his right, he looked to his left, and spotted a small pile of boulders which seemd to provide a small, if not comfortable, place to spend the night. Crawling in to the tight space, Zanthasis, hunched together trying to warm himself through his soaked clothes. Shivering, he took the heavy pack off his back and removed the rain soaked bread that he had managed to grab before the town mob reached where he stood. Still cursing from falling in the mud, he stuffed soggy bread into his dirt crusted mouth. Looking out at the forest, he was more then a little startled when a lightning bolt struck a nearby tree with a thunderous crack.

"Oh great, this night is going to soo good," he said sarcastically.

Finishing his meal in silence, he watched the lightning flash and listened to the thunder boom. As he ate his mushy meal, he replayed the days events in his head; he had wandered into the small town hoping to make some money with his magical potions, after preaching his sales pitch, the crowd he had gathered surged forward to get at his miracle youth formula. With a futile effort, he tried to warn them about the side effects, namely the fact that the face turns purple for about half a day. Recieving the last bit of money, it was time to visit the market and purchase food and lodging. Standing in front of a bread stall, he was deciding on what type of bread to buy when he glanced over his shoulder and saw a mob of purple-faced, angry peasants. Snatching up a loaf of bread and tossing the merchant some coins he took off down the crowded thoroughfare.

"At least they wern't after me for my looks," he said with a grim smile, as he removed his hood and ran his fingers along his slightly pointed ears, "that could have caused a riot."

Trying to get comfortable in the tight space, Zanthasis settled in for night of unpleasantness. He expected the same dreams as he had had every night since that old wizard had cursed him a year ago, the only thing that chilled him was that it was not exactly a curse, it was a spell breaker. As his eyelids slowly shut, Zanthasis recalled the wizard's cynical voice hoarsely whispering the words ethallium pertaci formicu bulori, break hide true form. Shuddering, Zanthasis, fell into a fitful sleep, dark dreams plagued his mind as they had done before.

Awaking with a start, Zanthasis glimpsed a silvery tail disappear around one of the rocks he was using as shelter, squeezing through the crack between the rocks, he was blinded by the brilliant sun shining in between the branches of the trees overhead. Searching the area for the source of the tail, a flash of silver quickly alerted Zanthasis as to the direction in which it was travelling. Lurching for the bushes where the tail had gone, he tripped and fell into a puddle left be the storm last night.Swearing loudly to himself he stood up, spitting a mouthful of mud out.

"This day is not starting off well," he said, as he looked up and watched the sun hide behind menacing clouds, "and it seems to be getting worse."

After gathering his pack, and setting it on his back, he continued on his way deeper into the mountain forest. Trudging though the underbrush, the clouds in the sky started to release their gift to the earth below, a drizzle that shrouded the forest in a cloak of fine mist. For what seemed like hours, Zanthasis journeyed through the gray forest, upon reaching the crest of the mountain, he gazed upon a wonderful, miraculous sight.

Below him stretched a valley, lush and green with life, in the middle of this valley stood a castle, of which only four spires were visible, the rest being cloaked in fog. With a cry of excitement, Zanthasis ran toward the mist-enshrouded castle. He had gotten a quarter of the way down when he stumbled on some loose stones and pitched forward. Tumbling the rest of the way down, he was stopped suddenly by a large and rather stubborn oak tree, that refused to budge.

"OUCH!!!!" Zanthasis said, his voice echoing through the mist, slowly he stood up rubbing the back of his head.

Straightening himself, he reached to dust off his back, when his body was racked with a shooting pain. The pain was great enough to make his knees buckle and force him to sink back to the ground.

"UGH!!!" he cried out, the pain was terrible, like something was ripping his back open solely by pulling each fiber apart seperately.

Stooped over and in pain, he, slowly inched his way toward the massive gates of the castle. With a grunt of pain, he shoved the ancient gates open, causing them to give with a large groan. Still stumbling in pain, Zanthasis, made his way to the dark, mist shrouded entrance inside. Again moaning in pain, he pushed on the double doors that led inside. As the doors creaked open, inch by painful inch, Zanthasis groaned louder. One last grunt, pushed the doors open far enough to let him pass, gasping for breath, Zanthasis, stared into the dark portal. Groaning one last time, he took a step forward and collapsed from pain. Laying on his face, his breath coming out in white puffs, Zanthasis watched as his vision was obscured by blackness, and as the colorless mist closed in around him.