I can picture the eight travelers walking in this strangely lit cave, how the distant light bounces off of the mirror like minerals in the stone, it is an amazing thing when writing to be able to picture in your mind exactly how everything looks that you are writing. Tonight the eight suddenly hear a sound coming from the source of the light, though they are not yet to the caves end they can only guess at what is making the sounds. They each have there guess but only time will tell what lays ahead…

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