!vf05RX1JTQ 10/11/10(Mon)22:41 No.12414014|
File1286851312.jpg-(117 KB, 352x750, Red_Dragon_by_nJoo.jpg)
Moving up the stairs, you pause at the landing, reactivating the emerald. Paranoia is annoying, but valuable enough you must indulge in it.
It seems in vain, though, as you see no response from the innkeeper, aside from a resentful glance after you up the stairs. Another thirty seconds of waiting taxes your patience, and there are no events of interest, so you proceed upward. Room twelve.... You fit the key into the lock, and open the door, worried about any traps.
Nothing in the way of traps, it seems. Also, evidently serpent-people like things neat. Or at least Eidomon did, unless the cult decided to tidy up his room after he passed away. Staffs, canes, and other ornamental trifles lie against the walls, between the bookshelves, or tucked out of the way in alcoves in the masonry. A small shelf seems set up as a shrine, with half burned candles, and leaden icons, and a large collection of brightly polished rocks. A stove in the center of the room gives off a faint smell of incense, sickly-sweet, but very weak.
Less than usual in the way of furniture. No bed, for one thing; the floor near the stove is strewn with thick, tasseled pillows. No desk, for another, although there is a portable writing stand pushed against one of the bookcases. Eidomon's clohtes are folded neatly in a stack against the far wall.