Post by Sayvahn on Mar 6, 2016 21:57:19 GMT
There were no flower petals, thank goodness. But the house was in ruins. A busted table, faded cloth, waste and debris alike littered the dilapidated abode. Not even a wandering vagabond could be find in its midst—whether to find that as a good sign or a bad one, the feline could not tell. Making his way to the kitchen, he inspected the state of it. Despite the house’s horrible state, it seemed like scavengers had deemed it worthy enough to raid the place. Boards were ripped off their hinges, and people had left cupboards and boxes alike, open and defenseless to the world. But if the keeper of the page was smart, the hidden page would not be out in the open, or above ground.
Thus, Sayvahn searched. Traced the ground for any sign of a hidden door, for a strange crease. And he found one— an outline for a cellar, partially hidden by debirs. Bending down, the barber brushed the papers and torn wood away and opened the secret door. Darkness waited for him on the other side, but he stepped down into the dark cavern below, the light above him, as his guide.
A single ray of light from the latch illuminated the bottom of broken stairs, but past that, darkness held. The light given was much too bright for Sayvahn’s eyes to stare past the darkness, but the idea of closing the latch behind him was foolish. If it were to be locked once closed, it would be hard for him to open from the other side. Plus, if something lay down there, something not keen to having visitors, it would be best to have an easy exit. But still, that lay the illumination problem.
Climbing the stairs one more, Sayvahn returned to the front of the house, broke apart the desecrated table, and wrapped the faded cloth around the debris with ease. Ever since the barber had joined MI, it had been his habit to keep some oil, and matches on him in hopes of preserving his magic, lest the occasion, like this one, would arise. Further practice on being handy at creating makeshift arson material also came the task, but that was a whole other discussion in itself. Regardless, the feline walked back down the stairs, dabbing the oil on the cloth. Striking a match, the makeshift torch came aflame. Satisfied with his work, Sayvahn stepped into the darkness, letting the light engulf the dark matter, and illuminating his path.
Thus, Sayvahn searched. Traced the ground for any sign of a hidden door, for a strange crease. And he found one— an outline for a cellar, partially hidden by debirs. Bending down, the barber brushed the papers and torn wood away and opened the secret door. Darkness waited for him on the other side, but he stepped down into the dark cavern below, the light above him, as his guide.
A single ray of light from the latch illuminated the bottom of broken stairs, but past that, darkness held. The light given was much too bright for Sayvahn’s eyes to stare past the darkness, but the idea of closing the latch behind him was foolish. If it were to be locked once closed, it would be hard for him to open from the other side. Plus, if something lay down there, something not keen to having visitors, it would be best to have an easy exit. But still, that lay the illumination problem.
Climbing the stairs one more, Sayvahn returned to the front of the house, broke apart the desecrated table, and wrapped the faded cloth around the debris with ease. Ever since the barber had joined MI, it had been his habit to keep some oil, and matches on him in hopes of preserving his magic, lest the occasion, like this one, would arise. Further practice on being handy at creating makeshift arson material also came the task, but that was a whole other discussion in itself. Regardless, the feline walked back down the stairs, dabbing the oil on the cloth. Striking a match, the makeshift torch came aflame. Satisfied with his work, Sayvahn stepped into the darkness, letting the light engulf the dark matter, and illuminating his path.