THE MIST SUDDENLY CEASES ITS ACTION AND DISSIPATES AS QUICKLY
AS IT CAME.

I DROP TO THE FLOOR AND WITH FULL KNOWLEDGE OF THE OLD WIZARD I
BEGIN MY QUEST. DIMLY LIT TORCHES LIGHT THE MASSIVE STONE WALLS,
THEIR TIRED FLICKERING FLAMES NEVER SEEMING TO PENETRATE THE INKY
DARKNESS FOR MORE THAN A FEW FEET... CRYSTALLINE MERKYLS, HIDEOUS
HOBGOBLINS, STAND FROZEN ON HUGE MONOLITHS, GLITTERING IN THE COOL
TREMBLING MOONLIGHT.

ENCAPSULATED BY THE OLD WIZARD LONG AGO, THEY AWAIT THEIR FATE IN
AN UN-ENDING TASK OF DEFENCE, SILENT AND STONY. THIS IS TO BE THEIR
LAST EVERLASTING FATE AS GUARDIANS OF KNIGHT LORE CASTLE, UNTIL THE
ULTIMATE DEATH OF THE OLD SORCERER... THE MOON HAS RISEN QUICKLY AND
IN THE FULLNESS OF ITS COOL BLUE LIGHT, I BECOME A WEREWULF...

MY FATE IS NOW ALL TOO CLEAR, I HAVE BUT FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS
TO FIND THE OLD WIZARD AND SEEK HIS HELP AND MAGICAL INSTRUCTION,
BEFORE MY TORMENTED SOUL BECOMES FOREVER A WEREWULF.




