Coming through the door, you get the distinct sensation that you may have taken a wrong turn -- this certainly is not the Aroma Caf*. It doesn't seem to be the Forum And Firkin, either. The smell of burning insence hangs heavy in the air, the room is dark, and the atmosphere is warm and damp. Curiosity draws you further into the store, where cobwebs grow in the corners, strange bottles full of stranger smelling liquids fill some shelves. Books bound in eerie looking leather are piled on others in a disorganized manner. You puruse their titles:

"Creation and Destruction". . . "Lesser Necromancy". . . "The Book of Sauron". . . "Tales of Kettering, Vol II". . . "Rites of Autumn". . . "Tarrot for Dummies". . . "Spells of Regeneration"

Suddently, a voice behind you speaks up. It is bassy, and sounds at once to be right next to your ear, and an echo from a mile away.

"Good Evening. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Blackstone. If you wish to make a purchase, I'll be behind the desk," the voice says. "If I can help you with anything, an explaination, a special order, don't hesitate to ask."

The voice comes from within the large, clay, skull shaped mask of the tall man standing behind you. You could swear that red coals are burning from behind the eyes of the mask -- but that just couldn't be. He turns effortlessly, and, trailing a wine red cape behind him walks off. "Blackstone", who you recognize as the infamous "Masque", disappears behind the rows and rows of shelves.