_ _ ____ _____ _____ _____ _______ _
| | | |/ __ \ / ____| __ \_ _|__ __|/\ | |
| |_| | | | | (___ | |__) || | | | / \ | |
| _ | | | |\___ \| ___/ | | | | / /\ \ | |
| | | | |__| |____) | | _| |_ | |/ ____ \| |____
|_| |_|\____/|_____/|_| |_____| |_/_/ \_\______|
_____ _ _ _ _ _____ ______ ____ _ _
| __ \| | | | \ | |/ ____| ____/ __ \| \ | |
| | | | | | | \| | | __| |__ | | | | \| |
| | | | | | | . ` | | |_ | __|| | | | . ` |
| |__| | |__| | |\ | |__| | |___| |__| | |\ |
|_____/ \____/|_| \_|\_____|______\____/|_| \_|
YOU STAND AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE SANCTUARY. The door is heavy, but it yields to your touch. A faint smell of herbal tea and warm blankets drifts through the air. Best viewed in any browser that respects the soup. |
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