Having sat in the entry hall for a good number of songs, Rez finally decided that it looked like no one was coming.
Jumping to his feet, music still pounding in his ears, he wandered up a staircase and down a few corridors, losing himself somewhere along the way. Shrugging when he realized this, he delved deeper into the castle, sticking his head round every door. He found that some rooms had furniture while others were bare, and some looked like they had once been furnished, but had been raided, leaving big heavy stuff, but no smaller, personal possessions.
He also stumbled across a large was-once-extravagant multi-tiered room with no apparent obvious purpose, although he supposed there would have been a reason for it, he just didn't know what it was. Other notable rooms included a workshop-like place, with old dry sawdust littering the floor, and many tools lining the walls on pegs, an empty kitchen that looked like it couldn't have been used in the last century, there was literally that much dust, a empty stone room with a bad vibe, and no it wasn't the dungeon, an old style drawing room, with a very nice view, tree clad hills and grassy valleys, a smithy, and a door with frost on the handle sutiated in a freezing hallway, from which came a tense, almost deadly feeling. Suffice to say Rez did not linger long, and certainly didn’t sate his intangible curiosity.
But best of all, in Rez’s opinion, was another multi-tiered room, this one with a rather obvious purpose, stated boldly with beautifully crafted wooden shelves crammed to bursting with colourful books. Everything from big thick leather bound tomes, down to skinny paperbacks missing the back cover, from books on history, to books on religion, fiction and non-fiction, endless rows upon rows of books. Standing in the doorway, Rez inhaled, catching that soft, for the most part indescribable, glorious smell of books. Slipping inside he flicked off his music, hearing nothing but the soft clomping of his worn and faded brown army boots. It was nice to not be hearing a voice, commenting on every word or thought, to feel like he was alone in his head, like there was no one else pushing for a different outcome, that it was all his own decisions.
He had found quite quickly that if he threw the voice enough bones in the form of accepted challenges, it would shut up and withdraw for a while, hibernating almost, the length of time depending on many factors, most of which Rez had no clue about.
Running a hand gently along the book spines Rez, drank in the atmosphere, feeling at ease for the first time since coming to this place. Picking a book at random he found himself a snug nook, filled with pillows and blankets, perfect in his opinion, and opened the book;
Drake's Comprehensive Compendium of Dragonology according to the red hardback cover. Snuggling down he flicked through, pausing on a page with a picture of a
dragon? hiding behind it’s wings, like those spies in old cheesy movies. The word on the page labeled the dragon as ‘
Incognito’. Rez sniggered then read through the descriptions of
draco americanus incognito. He really started laughing however when he read the piece listed under colour;
COLOUR
A number of combinations is possible. One
account points to it being gold and silver, but this
may be due to the fact that the description was of
a gold and silver statue of the creature rather than
the thing itself.
Utterly exhausted, with all his energy finally spent, Rez had just enough mind to carefully lay the book down before curling up in one of the fleecy blankets and drifting off to sleep.