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...Using the battering-ram tactic, you effectively jolted the formidable and vicious man-eater off of his feet, thus driving him flat backed into the frigid, brittle turf. Inadvertently entangled after the damaging collision, you too careened downward, lumbering punishingly on top of the injured predator. The tremendous weight of the two impacting bodies was cause for the frosty polar surface to crack and shatter - opening to reveal a peculiar, torrid, steaming, unmapped pit of fathomless depth. Unable to otherwise prevent it, you and the ungodly denizen unwillingly tumbled into the fearsome trap and inexorably descended further and further hell bound. You've gone from the freezing cold to the blistering heat. The cavemare continues . . . |
 | Although temporarily dazed, the gore feeder displays his intentions to reestablish the assault. You frantically search for a proximate weapon to defend yourself! Nothing tangible can be found. "Wait a minute! How about the diamond!?" you speculate. You promptly remove the Olympian stone from your pocket and spontaneously catapult it at highmax velocity in the direction of the oncoming marauder... "Bulls-Eye! Right in the temple!" With an open, blood splattered mouth, an expression of astonishment and a defiant snarl - he sinks to one knee, seesaws twice, slumps again, and topples lifelessly into adjacent cremating flames... At last! The heinous cannibal now dines at a fiery buffet of unrestricted seconds. Nice piece of work, Spelunker! |
| Although you survived the battle, the life-saving pink diamond is forever lost to the burning inferno. It's extremely hot in here! You're finding it very difficult to breathe. You notice that distinct "singed hair" aroma first experienced as a child playing with matches. Sweat streams out of your scorched pores like blood out of an amputated arm socket. You instinctively begin to investigate icons for a link that might return you to the ice cave. This blazing underworld is home to numerous hobgoblins, tiny nettlesome devils, and mocking evil spirits. |
 
| All possible escape routes are hindered by vexing satanic commandos! They cruelly ridicule and taunt you - hovering in and out - cackling and hollering obscenities - yammering about your mortal righteousness. You'd better make an ascending move . . . AND FAST! The crest of your nose, your fingertips and your earlobes are becoming charred and crispy. BETTER HURRY UP! |
  
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