“Come Come…This way Dawn-Child.” I followed a hideous wretch of a ghost down into a deep cavern that echoed with distant screaming. When I left the Lover, Prophet was waiting for me. He knew the job and offered to send me with a guide to get me to Thorns and back quickly. I admit I should have been more wary but being in the presence of The Lover was almost intoxicating. My mind was just cleaning the last of the cobwebs out when I realized the wretch was leading me deeper into the earth. “Where are you taking me?” I demanded, my voice strong again. The old ghost visibly cringed. “Not so loud fool! You wear the wrong brand to be unmolested in the Labyrinth, so I suggest you keep your words low! There are things down here which never lived and would make a quick meal of you. “ He shuffled closer and in a craggy whisper continued. “You want to get to Thorns, in the Sunlands the trip would take you weeks on horseback, a month or more on foot. Here, into the Labyrinth silly things like distance and time have no meaning. If you follow me we can get you to Thorns and back in mere days. Eh?” He quietly cackled and looked pleased with himself. Ugly and Crazy was always a winning combination. We went down for what seemed like endless hours, we never slowed and we never stopped until we entered a great vaulting hall. It went on seemingly forever into the darkness. I got impressions of gigantic structures in the shadow but couldn’t make out anything for sure. This place felt wrong. The essence buzzed in my soul. I felt like we were in the presence of something incredibly malevolent. Several times I heard whispers in the dark, only to turn and find nothing. Looking to my guide I noticed his form had blurred a bit, it was as if an unfelt wind blew him toward some point in the distance. I reached to the side intending to summon my blade, but as I did so the old ghost’s hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. His eyes pleaded with me to stop. I saw madness born of fear in his face. I slowly lowered my arm and nodded. Instead I reached into my breast pocket and found the stone Gentle Ashe had given me. Even in this unholy place it radiated warmth. That small touch of Creation centered me. I would have to thank her when…if I ever returned. Fortunately we returned to the slightly less horrific tunnels that honeycombed the walls of that terrible cathedral. The ghost’s shape solidified and he seemed to walk a little quicker. I didn’t complain because I was ready to put that place behind me, far, far behind me. Sometime later, we came upon a strange procession of robed monks each carrying chains that bound another. This silently thrashing creature howled wordlessly and had the look of a feral beast about it, though it appeared to have been human once. Indeed it wore the same robes as its fellows, albeit stained with blood and torn in places. “Specter. Sometimes a ghost goes mad. Starts killing and devouring his fellows. If it can be done, they’re captured and brought here… to that..that place below.” My guide stammered. “What happens there?” I asked my eyes locking with the Specters for a moment before it resumed its wrathful flailing. “It’s thrown into the Well of Oblivion. Where all things are destined to die, forever being torn apart until only nothingness remains.” My guide said nothing more on the subject. I pulled my hood and jacket closer as we trudged through these forlorn halls of black stone. Though it seemed much longer, we emerged into the Thorns shadowland after only a day’s travel. I was happy to be out of that bleak place, even if only partially so. My guide showed me the way but refused to leave the tunnel into the Labyrinth. We arranged to meet here in three days time. If I couldn’t do the Lover’s job in that time, I would have to find my own way back.