“ The characters are wandering through the bustling crowds of Lasopolis. A street conjuror is performing a simple summoning spell, something for the kiddies. A bit of odious purple powder in the fire, an incantation and out pops a saak-lizard or a muhmentarsh, writhing from the flaming brazier. But the conjuror has only a poor grasp of the arcane magical tongue. A few stuttered syllables could lead to Other Things coming through the brazier and giving the crowd more entertainment than they had paid for...”
“ Nearby is a region of many curiously shaped hillocks. Last week a tremendous storm washed one of these half away, revealing a strange shed made of concrete panels. Its long side is aligned east-west, about 4m by 3m and 2.5m high, with a flat roof slightly sloped down to the north . The double doors in the south side have murky glass panels in them, but nothing much can be seen from outside, although it looks a bit like the top of a staircase. Will you dare go inside? What will you find there, and what lies below?”
“ A fragment of letter drifts down to the street. You catch it, and unfold the charred edges.
'...know I will always lov..
..at never dies. It is th...
..f my passion that b...
...nd it cannot be ext..
....n heaven or....n hel..
....ill be by you...ide an...
......
...... yours foreve.........
... Mendates ........
...................................'
Looking up from the fragmented text you glance around at the rooftops. There. A minute snowfall of scraps of letters is cascading from the chimney of a half-timbered house nearby.”