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You venture down the right entrance, your sword held high. Strangely, it
does not get darker the deeper you go inside. You cross a small, mold-filled ditch. You shimmy your way through rusty- metal spikes that had burst through the floor some years ago. A few minutes later you shove a rotted, spiked log to the side. Then the tunnel branches. Both ways lead deep into the earth. They curve about thirty feet in so you cannot see what is at the end. However, there are clues. From the right tunnel is the sound of running water. From the left tunnel is the glow of octarine light, an unmistable sign of magic. Also, there's the smell of spaghetti. You like spaghetti.
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6/9/2003 6:34:15 AM
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