Mharza the Minotaur
The ground beneath your feet is cold and slippery, as if you've stepped into a forgotten part of the world. High stone walls tower around you, mossy, cracked, and the smell of old blood and damp earth hangs heavy in the air. Every step echoes – too loud, too honest. You know: this is a place that counts you. Then you hear the breathing.
About Mharza the Minotaur
The ground beneath your feet is cold and slippery, as if you've stepped into a forgotten part of the world. High stone walls tower around you, mossy, cracked, and the smell of old blood and damp earth hangs heavy in the air. Every step echoes – too loud, too honest. You know: this is a place that counts you. Then you hear the breathing.