The bulky mask fit Fred's head well. A cylinder with some magic substance covered his nose and mouth, and some sort of glass-like substance protected the part of the face around the eyes. Fred thought that he must now look very much like a demon.
Fred opened the door, and looked inside the chamber. He could not see the scepter of St. Valentine. He could not see much of anything. The large cavern was dark and misty; apparently there was steam wafting from a bubbling stream about fifty paces away. A smell of rotton eggs penetrated through the mask. The room was very dark - the only light was an eerie, dim, red- orange glow from the other side of the stream. "This is what hell must be like," thought Fred. On this side of the bank, the ground was barren and covered with a layer of ash. Near Fred was an ash-choked cobblestone path that went on further into the gloom; it approched and ran parallel to the stream, but did not appear to cross it. There was also a small stone bridge that did cross the stream.
12/14/2002 9:29:09 PM
The Never Ending Quest Home
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