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

"That's a good one, lad. I'll just bet ye were busy!" He laughed to himself,
going to the back room to sift through the inventory. "Ah here it is! You're
lucky we didn't throw it away - we do, sometimes, or sell it off, when we can
prove the customer ain't comin' back for his stuff. Well, here you go. Treat it
well, y'hear?"
What he gave me was a shimmering piece of filigreed metalwork. It looks
almost gauzy, but with thorned edges that made it difficult to handle. I
discovered that it could unfold itself into a square big enough to walk
through. I had no idea where it goes right now, but it must be important if I
commissioned it for myself.
Nordom examined it curiously, and a lens clicked over one of his eyes.
"Know what it is, Nordom?"
"Negatory," he responded, "Item appears to possess anomalous spatial
features encapsulated within itself. Analysis: effect similar to modron cube.
Correlation of inverted spatial curvature patterns: 42.0045%."
"So it's some sort of portal, you think?"
"Think- think" he clicked, confused "I think, therefore I am... I think."
"Nevermind."
All you need now is to find the proper key.
~~~~~
Sometimes when you awaken (especially if you're a child, I think) the world
of dreams still clings to you, like the cloth of an ill-fitting shirt dragging
across your skin. You look up, and see something that fills you with dread. A
spiral pattern on the side of a wooden cupboard, the spots of paint that
seem to connect themselves into the visage of a mask, or a dark corner
untouched by dawn's light. In the back of your mind you know it's just an
inert something, but until the last fingers of sleep peel away from your mind
you lie, frozen in fear that it's watching you.
That's what I was feeling now.
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