(no subject)

[dont_turn_around]

There's a new building on the shores of the lake.

(Well, I say new...)

It appeared as if built overnight, but instead of being snug and pretty like so many new buildings, it looks as if it's been there for a hundred years, and empty for a hundred more. Walls have fallen in, and ivy crawls up those that remain. The windows are as empty as a skull's eyes. The pathway to what was once the front gate is overgrown.

It was clearly once a majestic place, its grey structure an imposing sight, but now ...



It is not empty.



[ooc: Open for exploring. Please email me at minorblue(at)gmail(dot)com or PM me if you have any questions.)

Comments

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart screams, and shoots his crossbow blindly, and falls down the stairs, all the way down.

[dont_turn_around]

The bolt falls harmlessly to the stair.


He is gone.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart lies at the bottom of the stairs, clutching the crossbow in one hand, and the paper he found in the other.

Then, he gets up, and without a thought of retrieving his bolt, he bolts from the house and runs all the way back to the bar.-