(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

entrance corridor.
And the only way to return to the entrance was by the trapped seals. I
shelved away the question of how the damn thing worked... dimensional
lightning, imps that dragged my corpse back to the entrance, who knew. All I
needed right now was to get into the tomb.
I circled around the seal and stepped through the portal.
Once again I was teleported into another room. The key had worked,
altering the path of the portal so that I wound up in a new chamber.
I got to work quick. Throwing my weight against the sarcophagus there I
sweated, grunted, and urged the lid aside so that I could reach the second
key. I was thankful for the respite of my death, though tired as I was by the
time I plucked the key from the lightless depths I was not too eager for
another.
I sighed and stepped away from the sarcophagus.
Well, we all have to sleep sometime.
~~~~~
It was a mercifully clean death, in that my eyeballs weren't bursting with
vitreous humors melting from my sockets. The ache along my spine stiffened
my back, and the migraine led me to feel along my head to check if the blast
had cracked my skull.
I sat up and stumbled around the seal. Each progressive death in such quick
succession left me feeling drained: whether it was my body meeting its limit
or the mental fatigue of the task.
I passed through the portal once more, entering what I hoped would be the
final room.
Another bout of pushing, grunting, and the lid edged aside. I sat next to the
sarcophagus, wondering what Dak'kon and Morte were doing now. They
were a mismatch if I ever saw one (and in all honesty, to my memory I
hadn't). How long had I been down here and how long had I left them
waiting? Morte would be zipping around Dak'kon trying to pester him with
330