### 148

The moment you step inside the building your breath is snatched away by an overpowering stench. It takes some considerable effort to stem the waves of nausea welling up from the pit of your stomach as, slowly, you follow a corridor which winds its way deeper into this foul place. The smell is atrocious, but not unfamiliar, and when the passage finally reaches its destination your suspicions are confirmed. What you can smell is the stench of Giak blood.

Before you is a vast, low-ceilinged hall, filled with butchered carcasses hanging from hooks drilled into a criss-cross of roof beams. A dozen Giaks stand at gore-stained benches, cleavers in hand, hacking the grey-green meat into more manageable sizes. It does not seem to worry them in the least that the meat they are crudely shaping is of their own kind.

Your churning stomach prompts you quickly to leave this abattoir by means of another passage. This ends abruptly at a flight of stairs, at the foot of which is a door secured by a large wooden drawbolt.

If you wish to descend the stairs, turn to 38.

If you choose to investigate the door, turn to 279.

Text copyright © 1991 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1991 Brian Williams.