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Axil the Able stood in three inches of stagnant water and surveyed one of
the most dismal dungeons he had ever been thrown into...30 seconds earlier,
he was sitting in front of the ox-roast in that famed haunt of the Occult.
The Golden Thurible engaged in his favourate pastime of Wizard-Baiting.
What a good story Axil was telling - a new one about Therion, a certain
moon creature and a rather gullible Elf - really, the sudden silence of his
audience should have warned him. The crowd parted as Therion strode across
the floor, dangerous in all his 10 degrees.
Therion raised a twig-like index finger and flung Axil several hundred
leagues across Graumerphy, into the dungeons beneath the dreary castle
called Collodon's Pile.
In the dark twilight, Axil tutted - and then took stock. He was, at least,
clothed : he carried a large leather pouch, and on a nearby table, there
was a book.
The title read as follows:-
The Net of Gugamon - a grimoire : wherein is contained the proper rites for
the Convocation of various Demonly Princes, the procurement of lesser
spirits, together with sundry workings, conjurations, manifestations,
symbols relating to all manner of Astral Phenomena : and so on for several
more pages, in the rather turgid style thought necessary for such books.
Unfortunately, apart from the title, there seemed to be little more than a
rather tattered contents page. But they did'nt call him Axil the Able for
nothing. So, with a flourish, he marched for the door in search of a way
out.
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