text: These mountains look cool. Well, you are at the hills. Something tells you that you should back away...
  
  > climb up the other hill!
  You climb up until you see some fruits.[Themes: fantasy, mystery, puzzle, fantasy]
  
  You awaken in a still pool of shallow water to the howling of the wind and its icy caress. The moon watches you from the star-freckled sky above. Its pale light illuminates the moss and thick grass that grow between the gaps of the smooth stones beneath you. Trees with twisted, moss-covered roots reach for the heavens, and cast shadows over the few bare stones that can be seen in this strange wall-less garden. The air is thin and colder than anything you've ever felt. It whistles through the trees and grass, the sound similar to air blown through a broken flute. Shivering you get to your feet. A strangled sound escapes you as take slow cautious steps towards the edge of the garden. You pray and beg to any and all gods, but as your feet come to a stop you curse them, you curse them all. A small rock plummets over the stone lip of the garden. You grip the tree next to you and watch it fall and know that it continues to fall and fall and fall even after you loose sight of it. Dizziness overcomes you as you note the warm yellow light that flickers far off in the distance. It's your home that you see.
  
  Tears well in your eyes, "no..." You sink to your knees and struggle with the urge to vomit.
  
  You are atop the Serpent Lord's tower.
  
  You are atop Wicked Garden.
  
  And you are going to die.
  
  Behind you, a deep laugh emanates from the darkest shadows. It weaves its way through the trees, chilling your blood more than the frigid wind ever could. Closing your eyes you turn your back on your home with your heart in your throat. You swallow and open your eyes to face whatever has come for you.
  
  Darkness thickens into ribbons of night and converges on a single point until a raggy pale man appears. He floats effortlessly above the shallow water you awoke in, and watches you with hollow eye sockets that are filled with swirling ink. He speaks to you, but his dry flaky lips do not move.
  
  "Each floor provides a new challenge. Pass and proceed."
  
  The ground shakes as the water beneath the grey man ripples and drains away. It seeps down through the gaps in the stones as they move to form a descending spiral. Fog or what could be steam makes its way into the garden only to spill over the tower's edge. You watch it, the stairs, the raggy man.
  
  "Follow in the footsteps of those before you. Complete what they could not."
  
  You swallow and walk to the top of the staircase. But before you take another step you look around one last time and commit it all to memory; the sky, the trees, your village off in the distance. You sigh.
  
  [Author's Note: You are sacrificed to the dungeon tower, Wicked Garden, by your village, to appease the evil Serpent Lord who dwells within it. Your only chance at escape is to work your way through the tower, floor by floor until you reach the exit. Only this isn't an easy task, as no one has ever escaped. Each floor offers a new riddle that you must answer correctly as death rewards those who answer wrong. Use your wit, or bet on dumb luck, to escape. Hopefully, you are up to the task.]
  
  > descend the staircase.
  The raggy man stares at you his face impartial. You stare back until you can't bare looking into his eyes anymore. With no other choice, you descend into the heart of Wicked Garden.
  
  "Earn your freedom; answer correctly, or die."
  
  As you walk deeper, and deeper, into the tower you notice that the staircase is open to each floor and that there is nothing but empty space spanning between you and the curved stone of the tower's outer wall. Time passes, but just how much alludes you, as there are no windows to see the sun in the sky. It all seems a little too easy; odd in that nothing stops you from descending to the next level. You wonder about the others who were chosen, or more accurately sacrificed to the tower.
  
  Did they pass these floors?
  
  You think back to what the raggy man said, 'complete what they could not,' when you come upon a door. It swings open with a creek. You stare into the darkness beyond.
  
  > enter the room.
  The room is pitch black and silent, save for the echoing of your own footsteps. A circlet of dusty light appears. You walk towards it cautiously with your heartbeat hammering against your ribcage. When you reach it, a deep voice calls out to you:
  
  "Welcome to the Trial of Elements."
  
  You search for whoever is speaking but find no one. In the light you suddenly feel too exposed, too open, too easy a prey. Thinking it better to appear strong than weak, you muster as much courage as you can and call out into the darkness. "Who's there?"
  
  The voice does not answer you, instead it continues:
  
  "Before you sits what exists in all things: air, fire, earth and water."
  
  The light you stand in races to encompass four pedestals that bare these elements. With the room now fully illuminated you see that there is a door behind each and you know that one must be an exit. But which is the question.
  
  "Each guards a door, but only one will let you pass through safely. Take your time and choose wisely, for once a door is opened you cannot close it, nor can you choose another."
  
  The room shakes at the voice's words. Fire erupts over the second door, just as rocks fall in front of and block the third. Fearful you step backwards into a puddle that definitely wasn't there before. Your eyes follow the steady stream back to its source where water weeps out from under and around the fourth door.
  
  You take a step forward when the voice returns:
  
  "Beware, death awaits those who choose wrongly."
  
  > choose the Door of Air.
  You reach for the handle and your fingers feel the bite of the air. They ache in the sudden coldness, but still you take the doors handle in your hand. It opens with a creak and you feel as though you've made the right choice despite the cold, but your smile is wiped from your face almost as quickly as it appeared. There is nothing beyond the door, nothing but a never-ending pit of swirling grey mist. Your heart drops as what little ground there is between the doorway and you begins to crack and crumble. You watch in horror as chunks of stone fall away into the mist, never to be heard of again and scream as the floor of the room too starts to fall away. Your nails dig into the stones as you crawl-run to the wall in the hope that it won't fall away with the floor. But your feet won't cooperate. You slip and plummet into the mist.