Introduction: The Fox Den

There is one hidden in every city in the darkest alley; lost in time, and no stranger to the degradation of man. A bar, or so it would seem, that only the hopeless are permitted to see. It beckons them from the streets, late in the night, from the depths of the absurd to seek peace from a bottle within its windowless walls. Its howls echo out, like a voice in the back of one’s mind, that once inside all pain and suffering may be left behind with varietals to numb the mind. The patrons, timeless in decay, sit stagnant with the wisdom of one’s personal hell. They drink, their glasses stained amber, reminiscent of the poisonous well, as they silently covet the release of death’s bell. The corridors run endless and its lessons are relentless in life’s twisted scheme like the darkest of dreams. In the depths, one may find all the temptation that has brought about such a twisted damnation and, as it happens, one may miss their final chance at redemption.

In the cities center, where the stench of the drunken is alive in the air, in the lust of the night, there it waits for its prey in debaucheries shroud, The Fox Den.