wrote: Gilded Horrors 
You're greeted by an unexpected sight as you crawl out of the pure stifling darkness of a twisted Agathion warren. Having guided yourself purely by outstretch hand against treacherous uncut stone and a hope you wouldn't tumble face first into breaking your neck, you were both overjoyed and blinded by the sudden appearance of light.
It was all stunning, the dazzling brightness faded as your eyes adapted, and an opulent hallway was laid out before you. It shouldn't be a sight this lulling, and somewhere in the back of your mind rested the uneasy knowledge that this was still Pandemonium, and that you were here to destroy something by your Liege-Lady's command.
The first step into the new setting brought the stinging pain of a cut along your thigh that was too close to having bled out for comfort, and the dull ache of cracked ribs that made breathing difficult at best. Even as difficult as it was, it didn't mute the scent of acrid ozone and rotting meat that lingered in as sharp contrast to the alabaster and gild of the walls.
As you made your way further, the sound of a thrumming, drumming pulse began to fill your ears, the place had been so quiet you thought have been your own heart. But the monotonous beat seemed to twist and warp the walls around you with each consecutive step. You set your hand on the soothingly cool surface of a wall to steady yourself, and it only became more disorienting as tactile sense diverged from what you saw. The room seemed to expand and twist out into eternity, while feeling it had never grown at all. You closed your eyes to purchase focus for your thoughts, to fight through the lingering pain, and the ever increasing pungency of wrongness that was now thick enough to taste in the air.
When you opened your eyes once more, the once glamorous prison you'd stumbled into was now as decayed in appearance as it smelled. In the center of the room was was what you felt you were certainly after; a dark silhouetted figurine that rested on a dais. One more step and you instinctively recoiled your hand as you realized, in disgust, that the smoothness had been a coating of oozy grime.
That was all the alarm and warning you had before shadows like tendrils stretched out from all around you, to grasp, claw, and bind. You desperately reached for your blade, ignoring the excruciating pain that suddenly erupted from your other right leg. All held in your mind now was fear, desperation, and pleading for survival as you tried to sunder that figurine with your blade. You felt it sink in as you stumbled forward, and all those shadows vanished as quickly as they had apparated. Your consciousness was fading into a different kind of darkness, and all you could think of now was how funny your leg looked when it was upside down.
