You see this sign by the path:
"The Haunted Mount is slowly coming into existence! (It's been slow but steady, and believe you me, emphasis on slow-- this is going to be a very gradual process while I implement and rewrite everything. My apologies, but please be patient, and keep in mind that I write all my code from scratch; I'm a die-hard coder.) The Cave has almost been completely replaced by The Haunted Mount (or its plentiful fake filler pages), and will have your favorite hostess, the Antispirit. I'll be shifting links so if things seem to disappear, I've just moved them. *grin* I've put quite a bit of thought into this; the Mount will be broken down into several different "areas." The details are subject to change even now, so I won't go into them quite yet. Still trying to figure the details on structure... I will mention, though, that each section will eventually have a different host/hostess to guide you through, and after the renovation is done, I'll continue solidifying content. I'll probably even put in a few fun things to do, heh. >;) You will be able to see the changes within the next few weeks. I beg you, be forgiving-- like I said, this site has a LOT of development to go through! And if you get the chance now or later, please do go back to sign the register! Many thanks for your patience.
Love, Peace, and Light,
The Mistress of this Realm."

   You see two figures resting at the side of the road, and approach them with some mixed fear and curiosity, tinged with apprehension.
   "Ah, there you are! Don't be alarmed by our appearance; those of us who've been brave enough to stay, we're all non-humans, with only one or two exceptions-- like me! Well, I've been here so long, who knows how human I am still, eh? Haha! ...Ahem. We can't all mind-speak like Pe'lor here, but we're all intelligent enough, one way or another."
   You do a mental doubletake. Then... the one who mindspoke you... the dragon?
   The cocky old man barks a gruff laugh at your astonishment and continues. "Aye, this is where the path splits into many others as it heads up the mountain. We're from the Thervoln Village on the other side of the mountain, in the foothills. I suppose you could call us the welcoming committee, heh heh heh. Anyhow, this here is Pe'lor Arougani, and I'm-- well, I cast off my true name when I entered the Dancing Candle Training Academy. I'm the residential Red Mage; you may call me Master Ember, as most others have chosen to do so. Goblin tribes often emerge from their underground dwellings and sweep through the foothills, wreaking havoc where they may; we've had a few fatalities thanks to their changing of our road signs. As a result, when our resident Farseer senses foreign souls entering our realm, folks like us are assigned the task of meeting you partway to make sure you get to where you're going. 'Course, the fools end up sending their most ancient pair of messengers, eh?" He cackles heartily. "Closing in on the end of my first century, that I am!"
   Pe'lor whuffles a snort and broadbeams, Methinks you already have, little brother, with the way you're going on right now. You talk far too much, little brother. 'Tis a fine wonder the poor child hasn't dropped off from boredom; I'm struggling not to. And you know what they say about the patience of a Guardian. Guardian? Oh. Now you notice the mark on Pe'lor's flank, and recall the legends of the Guardians who served their duty for eternity. If dragons-- er, Guardians could smirk, you're pretty sure this one would be smirking right now.
   Master Ember roars good-naturedly. "Ah, an insult with a good dose of honest wisdom, eh? Very well. Here, hand me that pass of yours and let me draw you a map of the Mount..."

Wheeee, look! Heehee! I've managed to lure-- erm, coax    souls into gracing my site with their presence! *wry grin*