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. Walkways of white gravel meandered through the
garden, as if to acknowledge that any course plotted
straight through these wonders meant too hasty a passage.
There are no buildings within, though the face of the mountaintop
Ehas been scored with several apertures.
We approached the inner doors of the temple, set in the
mountain itself. These gleamed with a pure surface of
burnished gold and, like the outer gates, seemed to forbid
intrusion. Erasmoth approached them and barked a sharp
word of command - required, apparently, to loosen the hold
of magic and cause the doors to swing wide.
A dark tunnel led into the mountain. I hesitated for a
moment, surprised by the sudden darkness, but Erasmoth
entered and gestured to me with the imperious order,
"Come."
Wondering at my sudden unease, I passed the gilded
portal. Darkness washed over me. The gates closed with a
resounding clang.
The heat was intense. I realized that the corridor must
lead directly into the heart of the mountain itself! Great
columns of basalt lined the walls to either side, with dusty
alcoves lost in the shadows between them. Torches
sputtered infrequently, cast inadequate light. It seemed a
lifeless place, undisturbed for a long time, and I wondered
how it could be the center of worship for the priest's faith.
"Why did you build the temple to your god - here - in
this dark place?" I asked.
"I didn't build it. I discovered it." Erasmoth's voice
rang with triumph. "It was placed here for me! I was a
simple stone mason before I discovered my true calling
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