[Folwren]

After some little time, Berrick lifted his head again. 'Aha!' he cried. 'I've got one. It may or may not be true, don't ask me to verify it, for my Uncle told it me. I won't deny, though, that he didn't tell me many a tall tale in my younger days. This was one of his more serious ones, though, and it's not easily forgotten. . .'

It happened in the Autumn of that year when my Uncle was practically a boy - no older than twenty-four summers - that he got word that the Silver Fox had been seen roaming the Grey Wood. Well, my Uncle lost no time in getting a horse and going off to find the fo. He and two companions rode off together.

Days passed, and still no sign of the Silver Fox was seen. My Uncle’s companions gave up the chase and returned home. They laughed at my Uncle’s persistence and told him he’d do better to go home and hunt for eggs.

My Uncle Brimbor paid no ear to their jeering and when they’d gone, he continued his hunt. That very afternoon he scared up the fox out of hiding and cross country he led my Uncle and did his best to loose him, but Uncle Brimbor had a fine horse beneath him and they kept to the fox’s heels until the little animal was caught and cornered in a bay of rock with only one entrance.

“Very well, you have trapped me,” the Silver Fox panted, turning around to face him. His tail drooped and rested on the ground and his eyes were sad. “But it would have been better for you had you not. For the last treasure is at the foot of the Mountains and guarded by a black demon named Gorlab. I would not go there, if I were you.”

But my Uncle cared nothing of some rumored demon and his eyes glowed with the thought of treasure. So the Silver Fox told him where to go and how to find the place of the treasure and Uncle Brimbor left him. He returned home and got his two friends and together, they rode off to find this treasure.

After three days journey, they came finally to the place the fox’s directions led them. It was a rocky, dim, and gloomy cleft at the bottom of a tall Mountain. The three companions dismounted and led their horses over the broken and rocky ground. The air was hot and still and suffocation, but the three young men seemed not to care. Their minds were on the treasure waiting for them.

As they passed up through this narrow gorge, they saw ahead a bridge or arch of stone cross over their path. They stopped before it and looked up. On it, words were inscribed of many tongues, old and new. They read in the language they knew:

“Stranger, past this place, your life is forfeit. Take one step further, and you shall go no farther.”

“Twas a witty fellow who wrote that,” my Uncle’s companions said. “But it’s nothing but a pack of fairy tales. There’s nothing ahead as far as I can see that would harm anyone.” Indeed, it certainly looked that way, for beyond the arch, the way grew less rocky and there were green plants growing. But no sooner were those words out of the young man’s mouth that Uncle Brimbor’s horse began to rear and plunge and try to get back. It dragged Uncle Brimbor back away from the arch in his attempt to hold him, but it finally broke loose and bolted off. My Uncle’s companions laughed and mounted their horses.

“We’ll wait for you at the treasure,” they called to him, and urged their horses forward under the stone gateway. As soon as their horses’ fore hooves touched the shadow cast by the stone, a great, pitch black cloud rose from the ground.

Uncle Brimbor could later remember no definite shape the black thing took, but such terror flowed from it that he cowered back against the stone walls of the gorge and covered his face. He heard the horrible sound of two horses screaming, and a great yell from one of his companions - but then there was utter and complete silence.

After a long time, he ventured to open his hands and look. There was the arch, and there was the grim writing but no where did he see a trace of that terrible black shadow, nor of his two companions and their horses.

My Uncle went home and told people of his adventures, but few believed him. However, it could not be denied that his two friends were missing. . .and that they were never found or heard of again.