Not for the Faint of Heart

I didn't want to go . . . I really, really didn't! But, I was quested . . . I had to make the trip. So, into my chariot I went and headed towards the goliath structure that houses the most evil of empires. What was in that behomoth of concrete was the only thing that could save my ailing son.

I stepped onto the cold, dead, hard earth, and the wind began to howl. The temperature in the air was frigid, as Jack Frost himself was trying to chill me to the bone. I braved the gale force winds . . . and I could feel them watching. Watching every move. Their spies were probably aware of my coming before I made it to the gates.

Using the cloak of night, I evaded their guards and slipped into the gates, the dredge moving inside was more worse than imaginable. I heathen woman glared at me as I made my way past her space, her dark, laborious breathe sullied the very air around me. I braved on, to find the solvent needed to relieve the strain on my dear son.

Naturally, the goal of this journey was heavily guarded by several burly, ogre-like creatures. Their dead eyes and dull minds led to the conclusion that by stealth, not force, would get me to my goal. Finally, to actually hold the cure -- to feel it's power -- was overwhelming. Yes! I have it! I have it! I have dog food to take home to Ragan!!! Damn I hate going into Wally World late at night . . . ;)