The light spills from the edges of the door
Mist creeps thru the cracks
It's been years since it's been opened,
Let alone had any light coming from it
The small room is unattended save for the rats
The kegs remain dry
Only whispers exist of the mysteries behind the door
in the basement
Where no one ever ventures forth
The brave hero's sit at the bar
An old man mentions the door
The barkeep ponders the wonderful ale that used to come from the depths
There might be treasure down there,
There maybe death
There are surely traps
The hero's go off to sleep, and dream of gold
When the morning light shines, they decide to venture forth, into the depths, behind the old door in the basement.
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