Armed with nothing but his wits, Fred forges on. He soon comes to the
supply room. It is freezing cold. Water drips from various spots in the
ceiling and oddly enough, from two spots on the floor. On one wall,
cleaning chemicals of all sorts. On another, lockers, holsters, spare
crossbow arrows and hooks for clothing and armor. There -was- a set of chest armor but it was way too small for Fred. Two doors, one green and one black, were on the far side.
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7/25/2006 6:42:25 AM
Extending Enabled
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