The seven abodes of torment. So many obstacles in our way. Hordes of sinister creatures. Riddles. Enigmas. The merciless guards. They are waiting to rejoice in a flood of death.
Then the hazy images became crystal clear and his voice grew desperate.
To be consumed by flames is to be freed by a true purity. There is fire without light and there are flames without smoke. In this darkness of infernal FIRE, souls will be freed.
What you see is what you dread. Yet masters of DECEIT hide the real dangers in what you cannot see. Because where's the fun in the blatantly obvious, the well-trodden path, never odd or eveN?
Pestilence spreads its clammy fingers through the domain of Verminor and PLAGUE wafts through the air. The foolish will waste away.
In these forlorn depths of isolation and decay, DAMNATION feeds on the trepid and the weak. Yet a blossom may spring from even the darkest of pits. Alone... and without hope.
"They need to think fourth-dimensionally!!!" Spectulus had worked himself into frenzy with his tirade and slammed his fists on a table. Amaro snapped from his frozen state. "Why are you looking at me like a frightened cat, Amaro? Are my ideas too advanced? Am I too progressive??? How many more of their amateurish attempts do I have to endure?!!" Amaro shook his head in slow bewilderment and managed to whisper a weak "Three." He already dreaded the upcoming night for he knew which terrifying images were still lurking in the darkness.
