(TFT) SOLO III, 018

["David Michael Grouchy II" <david_michael_grouchy_ii@hotmail.com>]

Solo III
Demon World
Part 018

    Ten minutes of walking and the group makes it to an underground river.  
It's brakish, has no current, and burnt peices of wood are floating on it.  
There is a wide stone ledge on each side and the party turns to the left 
following along the waters edge.  Gail and Hildi blow out their candles.
    There is a moment of darkness but it passes.  The curved roof of the 
river is coverd with green phosphoresent stuff.  In a few moments you can 
see everything.  The group proceeds.
    After an hour of walking by the stale water you decide this river must 
run under the entire ring of the crator.  Ya'll are walking on the inside of 
the curve and the river is always bending to left up ahead.  Finally the 
group comes to a stop.
    Ada says "This is about right."
    While Rebecca unrolls the carpet she carried and the youger girls get 
in position on it Gail speaks to you in a barely audible whisper.  "You told 
me once that long ago dwarves used this river to move ore out of their 
mines.  Though I never figured out how.  It's one big ring around the rim of 
the whole crator, and doesn't come out to the surface anywhere."
    "We are ready."  Say the three girls as one.
    "I will teleport you to the surface."  Says Jenifer as she points at 
you.
    "I will teleport you up."  Says Laura and points at Rebecca.
    "If all goes well the two of you should beat us back to the eating 
hall."  Says Hildi.
    The three girls line up on the carpet holding hands.  They bow their 
heads.  The next thing you know...

    You and Rebecca are actually standing on the crator's rim.  Smoky black 
clouds hanging over head.  So close you can almost touch them.  You are on 
top of the rim looking down the slope to the lake of fire.  Unlike your last 
visit here, you can actually hear the lake this time.  It hisses and steams, 
arguing with the air, poping and bubling big splashes of molten sulfer.
    The air is acrid but breathable.  To your right is the city of bunk 
beds and metal forges, where you saw the masses of humanity waiting in line 
to get a meer cup of water from the only fountain.  Down the slope from you 
is the large boulder that the run away has made his little home in.
    You and Rebecca walk down the slope cautiously.  Over a bed of green 
skulls that roll and slide under your feet.  You come up to the kid.  He is 
spraled out sleeping, with a husk of corn still in his right hand.

David Michael Grouchy II

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