[p Man,mail+helm,magic sword,shield,9,16/16]Dieter[/p], [p Elf,leather+helm,bow,silver arrow,12,7/8]Wen[/p], [p Old Elf,leather+helm,spear,hand,12,10/10]Highbough[/p], [p Man,elvish mail+helm,spear,shield,12,11/11]Torben[/p] and [p Young Man,leather+helm,sword,shield,12,14/14]Olaf[/p] are here.
Here is a noisy, hot, red, place. The light is too dim and too red, but you stand outside, on a rocky hard pan desert--of sorts. A huge indigo sky with roils overhead crawling with alien, inky clouds. The dune-like ground intermittently features ridges of black rock, and is pieced by a litter of broken spears and arrows and protruding remains of long buried bodies; fallen in battles long ago and now packed down amid the uncountable grains of gritty red sand.
A hot, brutal wind is howling through the dunes causing sand to thrash ahead of it, and your cloaks to flick and snap dramatically. It will be necessary to almost shout to be heard. Behind you, leaning at a slight angle and a foot or two buried in the red sand, is a stone ring very much like the one in the Ring Room--although this one appears harshly weathered and disused. Alas! Highbough finds the mirror in his hand falling away into a fine dust that vanishes into the wind...
the Elf Medium (MV 12", AC 9, HD 1, hp 1/1, AL N) great cloak, lantern
; spells: color spray; scrolls: sleep, sleep, charm person
Hirelings: Georges; torch