No title yet........

Darkness had almost become absolute, but again as every long invading darkness had before, it was loosing power fast, the lickens and moss's colos were returning, the fog was giving up its blackness and fading to grey. There was stirring.... only most of it was seeking shelter, the shelter of the all enveloping darkness, only now the abode was underground, and at the entrances of these undergrounds was heard the steps and sounds of the enhabitants. Many a lybranth the resting and hiding places of refuge from preditors of the day. The days had not became fully lit, but were still shrouded with the early seasonal grey of the fog and overcasts and gatherings of rain laden shapes. The coolness would soon make way for a much different setting, one of steam shrouded shapes cast in hues of purples and black. Were it not for his smal oil lamp, it would have still been unnavagable except for touch, and puttin out ones hant to feel their way was known to be hazardous and sometimes themeans of capture. But who or what were these blackish invisable denezions of darkness that laid in wait? Nobody had ever returned in recent memory to tel the tales of meetings with the dark ones. There was no way to know, no one to spread the warnings, only the storries of the ancients were guideposts of the underworld and its dangers. So yu see, we'll come back later and continue....