Beneath every hedge, mire, and bone-plain of the Ivory Labyrinth lies a single truth: a boundless underground maze of walls, floors, and ceilings fashioned from solid, fused bone. Scholars believe this Ivory Maze is the labyrinth's real face, and that the mountains and swamps and cities above are only hyperreal illusions draped over its endless corridors.

Try to cheat by taking to the air, and the realm answers at once — the sky constricts and closes, and the sun-lit expanse collapses into a claustrophobic warren of bone-walled passages with no way out but through. Every point in the labyrinth above corresponds to a coordinate in this maze below, so those who flee upward are simply shunted into the ossified heart of the place.

This is a realm designed to swallow and scatter the unwary. To cross it is a test of endurance and wit as much as courage — for the labyrinth itself is your enemy, and it does not tire, and it does not forget. Every wrong turn draws you deeper into a trap the size of a world.