The strands of gossamer grow thick here, the sticky webs clinging to your face and body as you venture through this dim chamber. It reeks of death, of sulfur - it leaves a bitter taste upon your tongue. Through the thick webs, a clearing emerges. It is spherical in shape, the web a physical boundary around the outside. Only one path is open to your travel, as the floor is rudely interrupted by rows upon rows of jagged spikes. Their heights are uniform, the only interruption in their shape is the occasional heap of bones. Tatters of cloth lay in some areas, still adorning their dead owners. The path leads forward, into a circle void of spikes. The circle is ringed by a strange roofless structure of black iron, contrasting deeply against the white spidersilk threads. The iron is thin, rusted and bent into containing bars. They are not wide enough to stop a mortal's exit, but once, perhaps, it was used to contain another sort of beast. Outside of the circle, a bed of spikes has been fashioned from broken and jagged shards, floating a few inches above the actual circle. Spots of blood adorn the tips of every spike, the remnants of those who dared to rest upon it. The only exit from this Dead Grotto is to your east, the path from which you entered.