"What is this hellish place?" Gwynedd yelled over the screeching of the Hellcats.
"Exactly," cried Delphianne, pushing forward.

Pollen popped ahead, only to return in a ghostly robe--followed by several Skeleton Knights.

"Undead? Down here?" Gwynedd quipped, changing her sword again and moving closer to the fractious Pollen to apply bandages. "This should be akin to the battle upstairs."

But it wasn't. Not a bit. Not a teeny bit.

The wail they heard was too high-pitched for a keen. Whatever seconds the Faeries lost in confusion were re-gained by the slow movements of the Succubii--yes, plural, two of them. Gwynedd courageously charged into their midst [Ed. note: the previous words were crossed out and a new sentence begun] Delphianne and Tir unleashed their steeds. Too late! Delphianne went down. Tir was lost. Pollen was no where to be found. Faced with three Ghosts, Gwynedd chose at random and applied bandages. Then ran. Then applied bandages. Then ran again. The horrible, gruesome outcome finally resulted in two dead (?) Succubii beneath the hooves of steeds.

Quickly the Faeries exited the dungeoun and then slowly progressed to the Northeast. No one talked. No one listened.

"How about the Haunted Forest?" asked a solemn Tir.
"Sure," said the unconvinced Faeries. "Sounds like fun."

The Faeries found a cave full of spiders, big spiders, deadly spiders, and something called Terathans. Wandering around a bit, they discovered an egress and an island. With a beautiful Temple and Angels. Which brightened their spirits, not to mention the bong they found on a pillow in an Angel bedroom. Now they were hungry, ravenous actually, and chomped apples while disrobing for a frolick in the sea.

The trip back to the Twin Oaks Tavern was trance-like. Before retiring, they found cheese in the basement and tore at it like a pack of crazed sewer rats. Sweet dreams, Faeries.