Level 7 - High Scholar of Slipping Logic
A chilling wind whips through the hollow. Winter's bite grips your
spine. The very air you breath stings. Snow swirls all around you, yet,
the trees... the trees are motionless in the gale, unaffected by the
cold, biting winds.
You open the doors to a crypt that has been shut for over a century. The stench of decay is long gone but the air is heavy, musty and weighted with an uneasiness you have never before felt... It is almost as if the mausoleum itself is aware of your intrusion... Or, perhaps, something still yet stirs within...
An ancient tomb set beneath a small hill-town holds a dark secret...