As you touch the sarcophagus, the room melts away around you, to be replaced by a stone chamber sixty feet across. Behind you, an arch forged of crystalline amber stands stark against the landscape, its archway filled with a shimmering, amber reflection of the room from whence you came. A tall, black tree stands at the far side of this room, surrounded by patches of dead, yellowed grass and swarms of gnarled, writhing roots. Its trunk weeps endless droplets of crimson blood, which collect in a circular stone canal. From there, the blood flows through four channels toward the room’s edges, where it drains into a deep, fathomless canal that encircles the chamber’s perimeter. Strange shapes and silhouettes swirl in the canal’s depths, briefly bubbling to the surface before sinking into the depths once more. The tree’s branches, dead and bare, bear no leaves or fruit—save for one: a luscious red apple that grows from the lowest branch. A knot across the tree’s trunk stirs—then lifts, revealing itself to be the head of an enormous black snake, its length as thick as a man’s torso. The snake’s deep, crimson eyes turn to face you, and a night-black tongue flickers from its fanged mouth. "Welcome, little visitor," the serpent hisses. “Have you the will and ambition to claim my gift?" See more