Testing the Shapeshifter's stone...

Having been blinded by the miraculous offer made by the magic chest, perhaps he'd let a nostalgic desire snuff out his better judgement. With hindsight, it now seemed logical to him that he should have requested the magic chest to produce a full set of runed, dragon-proof armour - but that opportunity of a lifetime was gone.

"Along with any enchantment this plain old red box had." Frederigo muttered to himself, giving the vacant chest a hollow thump with the toe of his boot. Jarred by the assault, the box sprang to life once again, its raspy voice filling the cavern.

"You're ruining what's left of my varnish," the box grumbles. "I haven't lost my enchantment, human. As I warned you before, the magic works once and only once for each who stumbles upon what I can offer... you have what you wished for, so move along, you ungrateful..."

Lost in thought, Frederigo made a dismissive gesture towards the gaping jaw of the box, not really hearing what it was saying. While he had been formally educated to a certain degree in the ways of enchantments and witchery, he posessed only a vague grasp of the Shapeshifter's stone's properties. Everything he knew about this magical item in particular, came from memory. Until he knew how to work the magic of the pendant, there would be no way he could test its powers. He'd have to delve deeper into lost memories again, then, to aquire as much detail on the transformation as possible. In order to return to that time, he required a goodly length of undisturbed time to think.

With a brief assessment of the comfort the old red chest would provide as a seat, he grasped the worn lid, and with the same shrieking of rusty hinges, shut the box. Shortly afterward, there came a series of clicks, presumably from within the hidden locking mechanism, and the walls echoed with the magic box's expression of gratitude - which abruptly descended into a tirade of foul-mouthed curses as Frederigo lowered himself down onto it. Under his weight, the box creaked gaspingly, but held - and the string of curses dwindled off, punctuated with a resigned sigh.

With that last echo of breath against the stone, the cavern descended into relative silence.

1. An attempt to use the stone
2. The meditation on a memory begins...

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