With all the dangers you've faced recently, you imagine that the Hall of Weapons would be a wise place to visit. Perhaps you can pick up something to use for self-defense . . . or at least a souvenir. After all, with the method of payment being dreams and memories, you are certain that you can buy almost anything you could possibly desire.
You tap the words with your finger tips and are overwhelmed by a crashing noise like the sound of two cymbals banging together only right in your head. You wince and cower slightly and when you open your eyes you are standing in a long, rounded tunnel that seems to stretch on forever in both directions. The entire length of this brick cased way is lined with shelves and racks, each filled with swords, spears, crossbows, and armor. There are also some random items: a book here, a mirror there, and a selection of crockery. You reach forward to touch a glinting sword.
"Excuse me, may I help you?" a voice drones. You start and turn to see a small, burly man who you swear wasn't there a moment ago. He is about three feet tall with a jet black beard, sharp, dark eyes, and coffee colored skin. He is wearing a martial uniform in blood red and carries an ax a good foot taller than himself. You clear your throat.
"I am taking a tour," you explain, holding up your map. The man rolls his eyes.
"I really wish the queen would make them take this location off those ridiculous maps," he says. "People are always popping in here and smudging my charges." He pushes past you and starts to rub the sword you were eyeing with a white handkerchief as if your very glance has defiled it. "You don't look like you could tell a sword from a swordfish, but I've worked with worse. . .now that you are here, I suppose you'll have to have the full tour. . ."
The guard clears his throat.
"My name is Basalt Rocksplitter, and it has been my honor to care for and categorize these pristine samples of weaponry from all over the globe for the last two decades. To begin with we have a selection of officers' swords dating from the realm of Queen Belindara the Second. While sharp and well made, these swords were ceremonial in nature and it is unlikely that they ever saw combat. . ."
He continues on, his voice becoming a low drone as he recites facts and dates that he has obviously memorized and recounted dozens of times. There are some highlights, such as a feather kept in a glass case which he says can tickle a man into submission, and a series of seven league boots, but for the most part it is dry and historical and there doesn't appear to be any touching allowed.
You come to a fork in the path and while Basalt takes the right hand tunnel, you see something sparkling in the dim light of the left hand tunnel and glance inside. Basalt doesn't seem to notice that you have fallen behind for you can hear his voice growing fainter in the distance, continuing the tour without you.
Do you hurry to catch up with Basalt?
or
Do you investigate this new path on your own?
You tap the words with your finger tips and are overwhelmed by a crashing noise like the sound of two cymbals banging together only right in your head. You wince and cower slightly and when you open your eyes you are standing in a long, rounded tunnel that seems to stretch on forever in both directions. The entire length of this brick cased way is lined with shelves and racks, each filled with swords, spears, crossbows, and armor. There are also some random items: a book here, a mirror there, and a selection of crockery. You reach forward to touch a glinting sword.
"Excuse me, may I help you?" a voice drones. You start and turn to see a small, burly man who you swear wasn't there a moment ago. He is about three feet tall with a jet black beard, sharp, dark eyes, and coffee colored skin. He is wearing a martial uniform in blood red and carries an ax a good foot taller than himself. You clear your throat.
"I am taking a tour," you explain, holding up your map. The man rolls his eyes.
"I really wish the queen would make them take this location off those ridiculous maps," he says. "People are always popping in here and smudging my charges." He pushes past you and starts to rub the sword you were eyeing with a white handkerchief as if your very glance has defiled it. "You don't look like you could tell a sword from a swordfish, but I've worked with worse. . .now that you are here, I suppose you'll have to have the full tour. . ."
The guard clears his throat.
"My name is Basalt Rocksplitter, and it has been my honor to care for and categorize these pristine samples of weaponry from all over the globe for the last two decades. To begin with we have a selection of officers' swords dating from the realm of Queen Belindara the Second. While sharp and well made, these swords were ceremonial in nature and it is unlikely that they ever saw combat. . ."
He continues on, his voice becoming a low drone as he recites facts and dates that he has obviously memorized and recounted dozens of times. There are some highlights, such as a feather kept in a glass case which he says can tickle a man into submission, and a series of seven league boots, but for the most part it is dry and historical and there doesn't appear to be any touching allowed.
You come to a fork in the path and while Basalt takes the right hand tunnel, you see something sparkling in the dim light of the left hand tunnel and glance inside. Basalt doesn't seem to notice that you have fallen behind for you can hear his voice growing fainter in the distance, continuing the tour without you.
Do you hurry to catch up with Basalt?
or
Do you investigate this new path on your own?
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