You recall sacred tales told by your long dead grandfather, passed on to him by his father, and so on, back to the dawn of the Northern Ontario pulp and paper industry. So like, your father's father and no further, but through them you recall legends of a mythical mage who lived deep within the catacombs of the ancient lumbering mill. A mage who had existed since the dawn of contractual law, summoned perhaps by the heavy business of the incorporation documents from back when this local mill began, nexussed in with the serious union contracts and a legal signal boosted to near infinity by the unbelievable reams of paper being rolled out. The sheer potential of the mystical law which could eventually be scribed into these fresh sheets encased the Legal Mage within these crumbling walls until some vaguely worded prophetic criteria were met. You could seek him out there. Surely his intentions are to vanquish the sinister Beuro-Beings, no? The big question now is; how do you seek out and find this Powerful Mage within the hydro-sulfide infused dungeons of DOOM!


If you believe that in your worthless Bachelor of Arts induced state you are capable of securing a job, and entering the mill incognito, turn to page......PRETTY COLLEGE KID FITS RIGHT IN!


If instead you are intelligent enough to realize that the monsters of the HR office are too wise to let someone stupid enough to have majored in Philosophical Archaeological Engineering work in their useful paper plant, turn to page..... SNEAK THE FUCK IN THERE ANYWAYS!