"So do you have any tips here?" We were outside of the path that lead up to the fortress of the Cult of Shamanar (well I thought thats what they were called, its not like there was a sign out front). When I turned to Toneron he was already riding off, which was a step up from his normal just dissappearing.
"DON'T TOUCH THE BOOK OH AND DON'T DIE!" He shouted over his shoulder alerting everyone who didn't already know I was there to my prescense (with friends like these!). I dismounted from my horse and left it to munch grass in the plain leading up to the mountain hideaway of the cultists (I prefer cultists who are just out in the open of a huge field, much easier to just murder... err talk to). Making my way up the path I had images of rifleman shooting the crap out of me from hidden positions, but no one was there. There wasn't any recent foot traffic (it had been a dry week so dust was all over the mountain path an no footprints, hoof tracks, or cart lines) either, which is a little alarming. I mean even if you are a cult you have still have to eat (well in theory unless you're a cannibal cult, but even then you'd run out of followers and have to find more eventually).
The front door of the fortress was wide open. It was a large double door set up with a huge latch on the outside (which seemed odd, almost like it was designed to keep people in instead of keeping others out, this as they say is foreshadowing). Again no one was around, I saw no footprints leading inside, and like any animal about to get caught in a trap I walked in with absolutely no caution. So no sooner was I inside than the doors slammed behind me and the latch ratched close.
"Welcome to your doom!" The Voice overhead boomed and I cursed my luck. I mean I swear I scheduled my doom for next week!
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