A Lonely Path: a Shackled City Story Hour, (updated 30 Apr 2008)

jeremy_dnd said:

Just for you, Richard. ​

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Why, Thank You!
Well written as usual Jeremy, thanks for sharing the scene. Looking forward to more... of course!
=-)

Chapter One, Part Five

The orphanage rested on the corner of Lantern Street and Ash Avenue, its charcoal-colored stones held together with mold-encrusted mortar. The windows on both stories were tightly shuttered, the bleached and splintering wood seemed to droop forlornly in the morning light. Unlit lanterns hung on either side of the oaken front door, mounted to which was a green copper knocker shaped like a smiling gargoyle’s visage, its nostrils pierced by a copper ring. Abrina paused and breathed deeply before grasping the ring and knocked on the door of the Lantern Street Orphanage.

The door slowly creaked opened after a few moments and an elderly halfling woman peered out, her eyes flickering with suspicion.

“Who sent you?” she asked curtly, refusing to open the door further than the scant inches it was already.

“Me?” Abrina responded, taken aback. She had not expected quite so much distrust. “My name is Abrina, and I was sent by Jenya from the Church of Enlil. I was hoping—”

“Jenya?” interrupted the halfling with a raspy voice. “I don’t know any Jenya.”

“Cleric Urikas,” Abrina answered patiently, hoping perhaps the formal name sounded familiar. “She is the leader of the church in Cauldron while Delasharn is away. She was the one to give the proclamation to bring the kidnappers to justice.”

The halfling's eyes softened and she opened the door further. “Oh, yes” she said, motioning Abrina into the orphanage. “She has sent you, has she? You don’t look familiar. What was your name again?”

“Abrina” she replied, stepping into the dimly lit main hall. “I am actually only a visitor, here. A cleric of Ninurta. She requested my help to find the . . . children.”

The woman nodded, closing the door and showing Abrina in. “I apologize for my attitude. There have been plenty of other strangers in this place, and still no word of the children. It’s been frustrating, to say the least. My name is Gretchyn, the headmistress here.”

Gretchyn lead the way through the hall, leading Abrina past a playroom filled with small toys chaotically strewn across the floor and a schoolroom where a young woman walked among several rowdy children.

“That’s Willow, our schoolteacher here,” said Gretchyn, opening a door to a small room with a small desk in the corner and small shelves bulging with aging books and sheaves of paper. “She volunteers, mostly, bless her heart. Without her, I don’t know what Neva and I would do to occupy them.”

“Neva?” Abrina questioned, her eye lingering briefly on the lock of Gretchyn’s door.

“She’s the nurse. Neva helps me watch the children, fixes up their scraps and bruises.”

Abrina returned her gaze to Gretchyn. “Who else stays here?”

“Well, we have Jaromir Copperbeard, our gardener,” Gretchyn said, ticking the name off on one finger. “He keeps to himself, mostly. Neva Fanister, Willow Atherfell. Patch, good old Patch, keeps the place clean. And Temar Flagonstern is our most excellent cook, and he gets along quite well with the children, too.”

Gretchyn winked conspiratorily. “I believe he sneaks them cookies when I’m not looking. And I think he thinks I don’t know.”

Abrina nodded, smiling politely. None of the people she described sounded especially like kidnappers, not that she should be able to immediately tell. “Does anyone have the keys to the children’s rooms, besides you?”

Gretchyn shook her head. “Nope. Just me, and I make sure to lock up every night, both the outer doors and the children’s doors. Nothing gets in, and the children don’t manage to get into trouble.”

“Then how…” Abrina began, pondering aloud. The locks are key to finding them, she repeated to herself. The locks.

“Have your locks been damaged in any way, recently? Are you sure no one else has access?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Gretchyn snorted, “and the town guards already asked those questions. That pair of half-elf investigators working for the lord mayor, too. The locks’re perfect, you can check them out yourself. And the locks have been working fine ever since the day I that gnome locksmith, Keygan Ghelve, installed them ten years ago.”

“And he wouldn’t have a copy of the key, would he?”

“Well, I guess he could,” she replied thoughtfully. “Perhaps. But I don’t see why. He’s been in business a while, and no one has ever complained about his locks or reported him. Besides, it’s been years. Why would he kidnap children now?”

Abrina nodded. “You’re right, it wouldn’t make much sense. Would it be okay if I spoke with some of your staff, and maybe the children?”

Gretchyn rose. “Sure, you can, just don’t go upsetting anybody. Half of those children have already forgotten about the whole thing, but if you mention any of the missing kids they might start bawling.”

Abrina followed Gretchyn out of the office, her thoughts in turmoil. Maybe one of the staff might provide some insight. Over and over she repeated the divination’s riddle, hoping that its meaning would click in her mind, like a key in its lock.

The locks are key to finding them.

After over an hour, she came away with as much as when she had begun: nothing. Abrina had spoken with the schoolteacher, the gardener, the nurse, and even several of the children. The most she was able to discover was a stilted description of a nightmare one of the children had the other night. Something about an evil gnome with crooked teeth and a tattered cloak. The other children quickly chimed in with their own dreams, covering the gamut of monsters lurking underneath their bed to fairies that came in the night. Exasperated, Abrina left the playroom, prepared to leave empty-handed.

Before reaching the door, a half-orc dressed in wrinkled, stained clothes with a patch over his left eye approached, a broom held tightly in both hands. He said nothing, but stood in front of her with wide, pleading eyes. Abrina had not seen him at the orphanage, but assumed this must have been the janitor of the institution and vaguely remembered Gretchyn referring to someone named Patch. She assumed this was most likely him.

“Yes?”

The half-orc twisted his hands along the wooden handle of the broom as if to wring out any water it might have. “I need… I… I…” His voice petered out into a long sigh and the half-orc turned to leave.

“Patch?” Abrina called to him. Did he know something? Why else would he approach her? He turned at her voice, eyes still pleading, asking her to discover a secret he was not offering to tell.

“Patch? Is it about the children?”

Patch nodded, but did not elaborate and did not step toward her.

“Do you know what has happened to them?”

He shook his head and once again turned to leave.

“Wait!” Abrina called. “I’ve been sent by Jenya of the temple of Enlil to investigate the disappearance of the children. I am trying to find them and bring them back home. Can you help me?”

Patch glanced around the room furtively, and seeing no one he stepped closer to Abrina. The thick and acrid smells of sweat, oil and cleaning vinegar nearly overwhelmed her. “Please,” he said, “you can’t tell no one.”

Abrina nodded. “I won’t,” she said softly. “What do you know?”

“It was Revus. He’s with the Last Laugh guild. You know, them’s with the black and white faces.”

Abrin’s eyes widened.

“He said I could make a better life for myself, if I kept an eye on Terrem,” Patch continued. “I did, I kept a good eye on him. And now he’s gone!”

Tears welled in the half-orc’s eyes as he gripped the handle to his broom and his breathing grew deep and heavy. He tried to continue, with every other word punctuated by a wracking sob.

“I… didn’t mean… to hurt… no one…. The children…”

“Patch, what do you mean? Do you know where they are? Are they hurt?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know. I was just to watch out for Terrem.”

Uncomfortable and unsure what she could do for the hulking janitor, Abrina reached out and hesitatingly patted Patch on the shoulder, withdrawing her hand quickly. It did not seem that the sobbing half-orc noticed.

“Don’t tell Gretchyn,” he asked longingly, wiping tears from his eyes as he clamed himself. “She’d be disappointed in me.”

Abrina nodded noncommittally, but Patch seemed to take it as an affirmation. Taking his broom he walked past her, sweeping the floor as if he had never stopped her in the first place. With a bewildered shake of her head, she opened the front door of the orphanage and stepped out.

Heh, I really liked Abrina's reaction to Patch... bewilderment with a strong sense of 'ewww' LOL

Keep it comin!


EDIT: pssst

Pssssst!

PSSSSSSSSST!!!

Chapter Two, Part One

Abrina walked aimlessly down Lava Avenue in the opposite direction of the church, dodging the merchants leading their wagons up the slanted streets and children running across the sometimes gravelly ground of volcanic rock in every direction. She did not want to return to the church empty-handed, and she still had no more idea about the identity or whereabouts of this Last Laugh, despite the extra puzzle piece Patch had provided. She fingered her symbol of Ninurta as she glanced upward at the cramped buildings lining the road, some seemed to be hewn directly from the volcano’s core. Veins of malachite were everywhere, bringing a small bit of color to an otherwise gray and dreary city.

As she turned down an alley a motion from the shadows caught her eye, a pale, fleeting figure in her peripheral vision that disappeared despite her keen sight. Her eyes narrowed and Abrina tightened her cloak around her body. The wind had picked up in the afternoon, and the overcast clouds had begun to take on a darker tone. With a shrug, she continued but remained alert. Abrina was determined that those from the Last Laugh not catch her unawares again. If they were going to follow her among the crowded public streets, then fine. They dared not enter the Temple when she returned, and she was not going to turn down any dark alleys anytime soon.

Abrina raised her head at the sound of a wooden sign creaking in the wind, swinging back and forth on rusty hinges. She paused in her walk and stepped back, examining the two-story black stone building that loomed in front of her. A small turret dominated the façade, with iron bars embedded in the thick window frames. Beyond the turret’s ground-floor windows, Abrina could see a lovely display of locks, from large to small, simple to complex, plain to intricate. To the left of the turret, above a heavy oak door, swung the simple sign, and upon it, below a picture of a stylized key, read [smallcaps]Ghelve’s Locks[/smallcaps].

The locks are key to finding them, she repeated to herself. Perhaps he might have some clue how someone got past them.

Abrina knocked on the sturdy wooden door of the local locksmith, but was first greeted by only silence. She waited a few moments before raising her hand to knock on the oaken door a second time, but a muffled voice finally called from within.

“It’s open!” it said. “Please, come on in!”

Abrina pushed open the door and stepped into the small shop. The storefront smelled of wood and pipe smoke, tickling her nose with a spicy aroma. Two burgundy padded chairs flanked a hearth containing a small yet lively fire. The fireplace’s carved mantle bore a tinderbox, a small vase of dried smoking leaves, and a finely wrought collection of pipes.

A burgundy strip of carpet, a shade darker than the chairs, led from the entrance to the wall across from it, where Abrina could see dozens—perhaps hundreds—of keys hanging from tiny hooks. A handsomely engraved mahogany counter stretched along one wall, and behind it hung a red curtain neatly hiding the rest of the store. From around the corner of the counter came a dour man with bushy eyebrows, creased face, and graven frown. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short and he sported a well-trimmed moustache and goatee, in a fashion that Abrina had only seen among gnomes. He wore long pants with a flowing shirt and walked stiff-legged as he came to greet her.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said. Abrina quirked an eyebrow, for he looked like a gnome, but he was nearly as tall as she. “I am Ghelve of Ghelve’s Locks. What can I interest you in, today? A lock for your door? Something fancy?”

“You’re a gnome,” Abrina said, almost accusingly.

The man took an awkward step back and chuckled. “Why yes, I am,” he replied. “And you’re a half-elf.”

Ghelve bent over slightly and lifted the edge of his pants to reveal the stilts underneath. “It’s easier to speak with customers when you see them eye to eye.”

Abrina nodded, blushing. “Why yes, yes, of course.” She turned away and tried to casually glance around the room. “Well,” she continued, “I am looking for a set of locks for my home. A pair for the front and back doors.”

“Oh yes, yes,” he said with a disarming smile, moving back behind the counter. “I have just what you are looking for. Wait but a moment?”

Abrina nodded and watched him disappear behind the red curtain. She walked around the store, tracing her fingers along the intricate carvings of the main counter, continuing along to the wall with the uncountable number of keys. She noticed that more than one key hung on each tiny hook. Reaching up, she took three from a single hook and examined their notched edges. She was no locksmith, but even she could see that each key was unique, each pattern different from the rest.

“What are you doing?”

Abrina whirled around, surprised, with a key clenched in one hand. “Oh, um, noth… nothing,” she stumbled, scrambling to place the key back on its hook. The gnome approached the end of the counter, two simple locks in hand and a sly smile.

“You need to match the key to the lock, my lady. Not the other way around.”

“Oh, yes, yes. I understand.” Abrina reached out for the locks and examined the keyholes. They looked normal enough, as had the ones at the orphanage. Just like any other keyhole.

“I noticed that you have quite a number of keys already made,” she said, gesturing to the wall. “If I were to purchase these locks, would I have to worry about a duplicate key?”

“No, no need to worry,” he said, as if recounting a rehearsed speech. “You see, each key is made expressly for the lock, and I make only one set at a time. One key, one lock.”

“Can you guarantee me that?” she asked pointedly.

“Why, yes.” He replied, though with a short hesitation. “Uh, sure.”

Abrina raised an eyebrow. “And what about the kidnappings that I have been hearing about? And the orphanage? They all had your locks and there was no sign of forced entry.” Ghelve’s eyes widened as he began to shake his head. Abrina took a step forward. “Someone found their way inside and got pass your locks. Did they have a key? Do you give them one?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he choked, stepping back around the counter, clasping the two locks to his chest. “I don't appreciate being accused of kidnapping in my own shop. I think you had better leave.”

Abrina came to the counter, putting her hands on the mahogany. “I have not accused you of anything, Ghelve. Should I? I am not going to leave. Did you kidnap those children?”

“No!” he said emphatically. “Of course not! I would never do such a thing!”

“And the other kidnappings? What happened to them? Where are you hiding them?”

Ghelve lowered his head, shaking it furiously from side to side. “Nothing,” he mumbled over and over to himself. “I didn’t do anything.”

Abrina sighed and stepped away from the counter. Ghelve knew something, but she didn’t think he would kidnap three children. The kidnapped victims from the orphanage were all human children, probably nearly his size. How could he have managed to carry away four of them, unseen? No, someone else was involved. She turned to face Ghelve once again, leaning over the counter.

“I know you did not take the children,” she whispered. Ghelve looked up at her and nodded silently.

“But you do know who did.”

“No, I don’t” he replied stoically. Then, he nodded and arched an eyebrow.

Abrina tilted her head. Was someone else here? “Then how do you explain the kidnappings?”

“How should I know?” he said, still arching an eyebrow and nodding his head toward the curtain. “Perhaps someone picked the locks. I make good locks, but maybe an expert got to them.”

Abrina forced herself to relax and changed the direction of her questioning. “Well, how can I know I’d be kept safe if I purchased one of your locks?”

Relieved to have the conversation return to purchases, Ghelve visibly relaxed and smiled. “How about I show you? I have quite a selection back here.” He nodded toward the curtain and invited her to follow him.

Abrina reached behind her shoulder to touch the shaft of the spear still slung over her back, reminding herself of its presence. Prepared, she stepped behind Ghelve’s counter and parted the curtain to the room beyond.

Huzzah! Well, it's quickly back to the action again! I'm glad you are taking your time with the prose of each update... I do wish you could get us caught back up to your pre-crash position however... perhaps even a bit further heh-heh.
All in good time, thanks for the update Jeremy!

Chapter Two, Part Two

Abrina had half-expected to find a bandit, complete with scarf covering his face and a deadly sharp knife already drawn, waiting for her on the other side of the curtain. No such bandit existed, however. Only a plain anteroom of the lockshop.

Black curtains partially obscured a window niche that faced the street. Ornate locks and complex locking mechanisms were neatly displayed in the niche.

The room itself looked tidy, but lived in. Carpets covered the stone floor and a broom leaned against the railing of a wooden staircase leading up to a second floor balcony. Three wooden chests rested in the middle of the floor, their lids bound shut with sturdy iron padlocks. Small tables, shelves, and benches held various knick-knacks, and a framed portrait of a silver-haired gnome hung next to a tall wooden box with a glass pane revealing its innards at the base of the stairs. The wooden box contained an intricate array of ticking gears, counterweights, and cylindrical chimes, surmounted by a circular face that bore the numerals 1 through 12 on its circumference.

"Let me just show you how some of these function," Ghelve said, hurrying to one of his wooden chests and removing a large, heavy key from a hidden pocket.

Abrina paused and surveyed the room. Nothing seemed out of place or out of the ordinary, and she wondered why the gnome had led her to this room. He ignored her, now, instead fiddling with the padlock on the far chest. She looked at the staircase, following the stairs up to the landing above and saw only darkness.

"What's up there?" she asked, motioning to the staircase and stepping toward it.

A sudden whoosh of air, the flapping of a tattered cloak, and a figure coalesced from the darkness, tumbling over her head and landing at her side. Abrina tried to reach over her shoulder and draw her spear, but the figure had caught her unawares, was too fast. The glint of steel flashed, and she felt a piercing pain in her shoulder.

She stumbled backward, but somehow managed to retrieve her weapon. She held it out in a defensive position that had become second nature after her years of training and managed to divert the strike from her attacker that followed.

Ghelve dove behind one of the chests with a yelp, disappearing from view with a clatter as his stilts collapsed beneath him. Obviously, the gnome would not be of any help. Sparing a brief glare at the chest he hid behind, Abrina tightened her grip on her spear and eyed the strange creature.

It seemed human, but was completely hairless, with skin that was thick and leathery. Its skin was a deep, dark brown, but as Abrina watched it slowly shifted in color, growing lighter even as she thrust with her spear time and again. The two moved toward the center of the room, where gray rays of diffused light shone through the window from the corners of the black curtains. The creature's skin seemed to change, as the light fell upon it, to match in color.

The creature did not flinch as she stabbed it with her spear, snarling only once as she finally embedded her weapon in its abdomen. Its eyes rolled back, and the creature fell to the floor, sickly gray blood oozing from its wound.

Breathing heavy, she called out to Ghelve. "It's over," she said, but still unsure of what, exactly, had begun. "You can come out now."

Ghelve crawled out from behind the chest, eyes fastened on the dead form of the humanoid creature splayed across the floor. As the two watched, its skin color slowly shifted to match the wood floor beneath it. Within moments both could only make out the form of the creature by looking directly at the spot where it fell.

"What is that thing?" Abrina asked, hefting her spear in one hand and clasping Ghelve’s arm, lifting him up, with the other.

Ghelve brought his gaze to the spear, still bloodied. "I... I don't know. These tall ones, and some short ones, too, burst into the shop a little over three months ago and threatened me and my... pet."

"You mean there are more?"

Ghelve nodded and gulped. "Yes. Many, many more.” He averted his eyes, free to speak but still afraid. “And they have keys to nearly every lock in the city."

Abrina stared at the gnome, aghast. Every lock in the city? Her wound forgotten for the moment, Abrina leaned against the staircase. The children were not just an isolated incident, then. There could be more kidnappings, many more, and for what purpose Abrina could not fathom.

"Close your shop," she said, weakly. "We have some things to discuss."

"But, the business day is not over, yet!"

Abrina raised her spear and leveled it at the gnome. "Close your shop."

"Yes, yes, all right." Ghelve hurried behind the red separating curtain and from the other room Abrina could hear the series of locks slide and click in the front door. Ghelve returned and motioned her up the stairs.

"I need to show you something," he said. "Another tall one will show up soon, and we don't have much time.” He paused. “I don't have much time."

Abrina closed her eyes, whispered a prayer to Ninurta and took a deep breath as her patron patched her wounded shoulder. Abrina kept her spear in a firm grip and followed Ghelve up the stairs.

Ahh, you've returned. Glad to see it, enjoyed your post, as usual.
I hope all is well with you, it seems a long time between your posts, but I'll keep checking from time to time as I do enjoy your writing.

Till next time...

RR's not the only one reading. I look forward to reading the updates. I enjoy the single PC perspective that you are using.

GW

Chapter Two, Part Three

Abrina followed the nervous gnome to the second floor. He motioned for her to hurry, sporadically glancing into every corner of his home, as if expecting another strange creature to leap from the shadows, or even from the woodwork itself. He ignored the door at the far end of the landing, instead retrieving a key from a pocket and unlocked the closest door. She followed him inside.

The richly appointed bedroom held furniture sized for Ghelve's small stature. Abrina spotted a coat rack by the door, a cozy bed with a hand-sewn comforter, a clean bedpan tucked away in the corner, a chest of drawers at the foot of the bed, a wooden screen with birds painted on its panels, a wardrobe, and a small bookcase with some books and trinkets on it. An unlit lantern sat atop a small end table by the bed.

Ghelve scurried to the foot of the bed where he pulled yet another key from his may-pocketed vest and opened the chest of drawers there. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure Abrina and no one else occupied the room, and removed a tattered piece of coarse leather from beneath a stack of papers in the middle drawer. Shutting the drawer closed, and locking the chest with the same key, Ghelve rose and handed her the piece of leather.

"It's a map," the gnome said in a hoarse whisper, "to the enclave below, where the short ones and tall ones came from."

"A whole enclave?" Abrina said incredulously, pulling the map from Ghelve's shaking hands. On the old, nearly crumbling, piece of leather a huge complex had been drawn, detailing a maze of chambers and stairs. She had not thought about the origins of the camouflaging creature, but definitely had not expected it to have come from below, in the depths beneath the city itself. And in a tremendous secret and hidden complex, no less.

"How could such a place go unnoticed? Surely others know of this huge structure beneath the city?"

The gnome shrugged. "Some do, but it was abandoned long ago, and many have simply forgotten it exists. The last time I visited was when I was just a boy, and the only entrance left is here, through a secret passage downstairs.

"It's called Jzaridune, and it was an old gnome enclave of spellcasters. They would research and develop all sorts of magical items, until one day a strange, magical plague began taking them, one by one. They called it the Vanishing, and no one's been back since. That was seventy five years ago."

"Until now," Abrina responded.

"Yes, until now," Ghelve said, hanging his head. "They took me by surprise a little over three months ago, in the middle of the night, threatened my life, and took my familiar. He's somewhere close in a dark place, I can tell, and he's hungry and frightened, poor thing. They forced me to make three skeleton keys, told me to keep quiet, otherwise they would kill Starbrow, then me next..."

Abrina dismissed Ghelve's excuses. He had put the lives of everyone in the city in danger to save his own hide and that of his... pet.

"I'm going down there," she declared.

"What?"

"I'm going to find those children, and anyone else that may have been kidnapped, thanks to you."

"But, I... I didn't kidnap anybody..."

Abrina wheeled on the gnome, who flinched and cowered by his bed. "You gave them the keys to the city! You are just as responsible for their disappearances, and maybe their deaths, as the monsters who did this."

"D-d-deaths?" Ghelve wrung his hands as his face suddenly lost all of its color.

"I hope not," Abrina replied, heading for the door. "You said they have the keys?"

"Yes, one of the tall ones has the entire set on a silver ring."

"And the children?"

Ghelve shook his head emphatically. "I don't know, I really don't. I hide when they come through the door from below at night. I don't see them come and I don't see them leave. I certainly wouldn’t have made them a key to get through my bedroom door."

Abrina gave an exasperated sigh. "What about Jzaridune? This plague you mentioned, what is it?"

"It was some magical plague that swept through the enclave. I don't know what caused it. I don’t think anyone ever did. The disease caused several of them to slowly fade away into nothingness. I don't know whether the plague still poses a threat."

Abrina held her head in one hand and took a deep breath. "Anything else I should know?" she asked, waving the map in one hand.

"Well, the doors are hard to miss in Jzaridune. They are gear-shaped and designed to roll to one side or the other. But, many of them bore traps that only the gnomes could safely bypass."

Abrina closed her eyes in resignation. "Of course."

"There might be a way past them, though,” Ghelve offered. “I remember my father telling me about secret pasages in Jzaridune.” He paused, reflecting. “But, I don't know where any of them are. None are shown on the map, at least."

"Oh, well then. Great. Very helpful." Abrina rolled her eyes and stepped out of the room onto the landing. "Show me where your secret door is to this Jzaridune."

Ghelve nodded and quickly ran past her and down the stairs.

"It's here," he said as she arrived at his side, motioning next to the red curtain, "in the wall of the staircase." With one more nervous glance around the room, he pushed against the wall. A secret door separated from the surrounding wood paneling with a loud squeal, revealing a square landing at the top of a stone staircase that descended into darkness.

Almost triumphant, Ghelve gestured to the dark landing.

A loud chime rung through the home as the grandfather clock reached the half-hour. Ghelve's eyes grew wide and he frantically grasped at Abrina's cloak.

"You must go, now. Another tall one will be here soon, to replace the other. If they find the one you killed, I'll be next."

Abrina grasped his wrists and removed Ghelve’s clawing hands from her clothing. "I will go," she said harshly. "I am not one who will knowingly place anyone in danger, including you. Go to the Temple of Enlil and seek the cleric Ruphus. Tell him what has happened, and where I am going. I will expect you there when I return, or else I will report you to the Cauldron authorities.”

She turned and stepped through the door. The stone staircase, its steps shrouded with cobwebs and dust, descended twenty feet to another square landing, then bent to the right and plunged further into the darkness. Abrina glanced around and removed an unlit torch from an iron sconce mounted to the wall on the landing. She lit the torch with one of her tindertwigs and swiftly followed the steps. Above her, she heard the parting words of the gnome locksmith.

"If you find and bring back my Starbrow, I can give you a reward! Discount on any locks you want!"

Abrina scowled, ignored the gnome, and continued down the flight of stairs.

There you are! Took me awhile to wander back, for that I apologize. The post is quite well done as usual, and, as usual, I will look forward to more.