Grandpa gave me this map. "Avil," he'd say, "this map shows exactly where Baracos, Lord of the Labyrinth, keeps his treasures."<BR><BR>My sister said that Grandpa would say almost anything to get us to bed, but she's a bitter hag. I believe!<BR><BR>You're going deep into the Golden Labyrinth. Can you keep an eye out for these hidden treasures?<NEXTPAGEBUTTON>"You don't want to come?"</NEXTPAGEBUTTON> Thank you, no. When I was a kid, my sister once threw me down a well, and there were baby caimans at the bottom.<BR><BR>Ever since then, I can't stand anything scaly.<BR><BR>I'd be a wreck before we got inside the door, <PCNAME>. (Old sundries, disintegrating bandages, and a rusty dagger. All worthless.) (A faintly glowing bracelet lies amid some chunks of wood.) A rusty dagger and a shiny bracelet? Maybe Grandpa was spinning tales after all.