Sæterdæg Delvings

——-‘Is that a smile?’ Dival thought, still unable to break the gaze of the figure before him. Sure enough, the pale lips of the man curved into a half-smile; a smirk even. Dival noticed he could then see through the pale skin of the man to the high backed chair behind him. Then just as quick as he appeared the figure was gone, leaving the seat empty and silent. Dival shook his head to clear his scattered thoughts and once again was drawn to the bar to steady his nerves. Maybe they had some brandy, he thought to himself. “This place…” he muttered out loud as he ran his fingertips over the wooden surface of the table. The wood of the table was cold to the touch and as reflective as glass. Dival tried to make out the area where he had heard the door creak open just a moment earlier. Too gloomy still, he thought. The wood was so aged that the fire was quickly dimming as it burned too fast. Torches, there have got to be some torches around here. There, and there. He found their placements against the wall and made his way to each one in the entrance hall and lit them all from the fire he started earlier, bathing the room in light. Much better, he thought as he smiled to himself. The last torch he lit was near a now open door near the table at the back of the room.
——-Must be the door, inside was a dark blood red glow to the chamber. Dival could make out what looked like a desk against the far wall opposite the door. He hesitated, ‘Just what is going to pop out at me now,’ he was getting a little skittish after coming across so many surprises and having just arrived. ‘Perhaps those damnable rumors had more seeds of truth than I’d thought,’ he admitted to himself as he cleared the distance to stand in the doorway of the dark red-hued room. He examined the ceiling of the chamber and found the source of the red light. There were inlays of a dark red glow in and throughout engravings on the entirety of the ceiling. The etchings ran what almost looked to be a spiral, starting much further out and turning in on itself sharply and stopping before it touched the center point. Most of this decoration was inside the raised square of the ceiling itself. Along with the desk on the opposite wall sat a thick overstuffed chair sitting empty behind it. Another plain wooden chair sat empty in front of the desk off to one side. The desk was clear besides a single book lain open and a writing utensil sitting next to an inkwell. ‘Haven’t seen an actual feather and ink set in a long while,’ he thought absently.
——-Dival turned away from the room and looked around at his surroundings. There was the entrance door he came through, the fireplace and chairs, the bar, the table that dominated the room behind him. A large open doorway within the huge entrance hall that led to stairs leading upwards, and then a closed door just to his left. Above the entrance he came in, there were two giant windows on each side of the door higher up the wall. Now that there was more light in the entry hall he noticed the marble floor that had a cloud of blacks and whites mixing and interweaving all throughout the lobby. ‘Gorgeous…,’ he thought, ‘Get this thick blanket of dust and cobwebs off of everything, and we’d be in business.’ He turned back to the room he could only deem as an office and entered. It was only then he saw the third chair immediately next to the entrance door. It was wooden and had a high back with a basket weave seat, and it was empty as the rest of the room. Dival made his way to the other side of the desk and wiped off the thick layer of dust on the seat of the well-padded chair and sat. ‘Comfy,’ he thought as he leaned forward to look at the half opened book on the desk. There was half a page written in the book. The script was neat but quick and flowing and was hard to decipher at first.



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