You stand at the mouth of the labyrinth, a cool breeze ambles by you on it’s way out of the gaping maw. On the lintel there is a large, filthy, black cat. It’s gaze fixed on you and ears trained in your direction, even the one that’s half missing. As you approach the opening, the cat rises up, prepared to flee. You peer down steps that appear to have been carved into the mountain itself, by primitive methods or modern technology you cannot tell. The tool marks are like none you have encountered. The shaft descends deep into the earth at a sharp angle and you think you can see a faint light in the distance. Do you descend?












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