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

"Hang on to your blades. We're going in.", I said as I brought out the
Godsman’s compact portal.
I unfolded the shimmering metal sculpture, and immediately it began
crackling with life. Stretching and creaking like old wood, the metal
stretched out into a circle, hovering in the air.
Here we go.
Chapter 89
It was like jumping into a pool of cold water on a hot summer's day. The leap
from my cozy apartment at the Civic Festhall to the dimness of Ravel's maze
left my head spinning, not knowing up from down, right from left. As in my
own maze the air was cold, but whereas mine held the maddening chill of
emptiness, here the air was moist. The dampness made it all the more
grotesque.
The ground was unusually soft here, and as it squelched beneath my boots
upon landing I stumbled, catching myself on hands and knees. My flesh
landed softly, and beneath my palms there was cold moss. The earthy smell
of rot was thick down here, the cold detritus clammy against my skin.
Somehow, the moss seemed to move beneath me, writhing as if eager to lap
up the warmth of my skin.
In the distance, there was the squeal of vines tightening and wood creaking.
"This..." Dak'kon murmured, "this maze is will made flesh."
"Oh the wonderful places you take me to, chief. Thanks. Really."
Nordom chirruped, "Portal detected."
"They're everywhere, Nordom," I grumbled, "Don't bother mapping the
place... space has curved in on itself and all the roads lead back to the
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