The mist was swirling sluggishly, obscuring the man's view. Balin looked about, trying to distinguish any landmarks in his view. But there were none. He had walked all day, trying to escape these horrible lowlands. The mist was so thick that it clung to the unsuspecting traveler, it seemed to have a mind of its own. His clothes were soaked through with rain and mist, and he shivered in the cold night air. He stumbled over a bush, and fell to his knees. He struggled to get back to his feet, for the journey had exhausted him completely. He stumbled about, searching in the mist, trying to escape its cold grasp. Balin's legs began to give out from under him, his muscles tired and cramped. He tripped once again over another bush, and lay where he had fallen. He found it hard to breathe in the mist, for it seemed to draw one's breath away. Suddenly, in the distance, he heard a howl. He jerked up into a sitting position, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. Answering howls sounded from all around. He saw shapes moving in the mist, mere shadows, but his horror was not dissolved. The shadows came, closer, and began to take on forms. He saw many wargs, giant evil wolves, circling him at a distance. Balin also distinguished man-shaped shadows, with long arms and a hunched over stance. The wraith-like forms lifted their heads, and their red glowing eyes met his. He screamed in fear, and began running away from them. The wargs quickly chased him down, knocking him onto his back and pinning him to the ground. One warg took a playful bite at his leg, ripping half of his calf off. He screamed in pain as the shadows approached him. "Pitiful mortal! Do ye not know better than to travel these misted lands? Here, we rule all. We take the souls of whomever trespasses. We are the Shadows of this land. And ye have been caught trespassing in our home, in THE SHADOWLANDS!" Screams filled the night air as the Shadows lifted his body up, carrying it away to punish him for his crimes. Creeping Death [CHAOS CT] '93