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​​oh, hello.​​
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just a sewer boy enjoying his bath here.
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​​scroll forth and enter the tunnel.
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the tunnel walls are covered in goop and scribbles
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an old man illuminated by candlelight hails you and offers a bowl filled with sour honey.
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you drink it--a warm trickle down your throat--a shiver across your scalp--darkness. . .
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. . .when you wake, the wall scribbles begin to make sense
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