Hall of Infinite Doors
You determinedly trudge onwards throught the ocean of sands. THe sun beats down on you, and a gentle breeze picks up. you welcome the ever so slight respite.
The blessed breeze evolves into a sand-storm. The wind's savagery tears at your clothes and face, spilling blood onto the yellow sand.
A day later, the storm stops.
After another, you can barely move.
A gentle breeze stars blowing.
You stand firmly on the dune, and let the sand bury you.
The blessed breeze evolves into a sand-storm. The wind's savagery tears at your clothes and face, spilling blood onto the yellow sand.
A day later, the storm stops.
After another, you can barely move.
A gentle breeze stars blowing.
You stand firmly on the dune, and let the sand bury you.
