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One dark, stormy night at the Royal palace...
The sleeping king awoke to a loud noise.
"Who's there?" he cried into the darkness. He heard the noise continuing downstairs.
He angrily inspected his cellar, trying to find the source of the noise.
The noise led him towards his blacksmith's room. It appeared to be coming from the fireplace. Now terrified, he peered down into the flames...
Suddenly, the room went cold. The king felt a thousand arms around him push him forwards, into the orange flames. He threw his glance across the room, and made eye contact into two white slits, right before everything darkened.
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