This is for the keyhole blogfest, where the idea is to post a description of somewhere that a particular character lives, and everyone else gets to guess as to the type of character. This one may seem a little odd at first, and technically I end up describing three rooms (those familiar with this particular batch of stories may be able to guess the names of the first two occupants from the context) but hopefully it will make sense:
Further on still, and frankly pushing the limits of what it should have been able to fit behind a florist’s shop, were what appeared to be living quarters. Opening doors revealed a neat, modern looking room with just enough in the way of ornaments that it would have had a feminine touch but for the samurai sword on the wall, followed by the sort of elaborate, heavy carpeted rooms that could have belonged to a country house. Brian identified the owners of those quickly enough, and tried the next door down.
It was open, and pushing the door ajar revealed a room that spoke of a life that had been… eventful, to say the least. A corkboard had faded maps pinned to it, most of them featuring notes that said things like “Lost city-found” or “Here be dragons? Where? I looked all over” in very familiar handwriting.
The furniture was robust, and obviously hadn’t been used in months if the dust was anything to go by, while most of it was covered in a mixture of old, leather bound books and the sort of ornaments that you only got from a life of fighting assorted monsters. The stinger of a giant scorpion served as a sort of paper spike on a desk, while a bowl of assorted teeth had the words “Do NOT drop” written on in quite large writing. There were watercolours on the walls, featuring griffons and were-beasts, minotaurs and more dragons than even Archibald Mathers could have contemplated.
Brian was just working his way through them, when from nowhere, he started to get the feeling that he had done something very wrong by coming in here. It probably had something to do with the largely untouched state of the room. It felt almost shrine like in the way it had simply been left. It also had a lot to do with the fact that there was a frighteningly accurate portrait of Spider sitting in amongst the other paintings. It seemed to scowl down at Brian, telling him that he had no right to be there, and that there would be trouble later. It was a lot for one painting to achieve, but even so, Brian was almost happy when he heard Violet calling out to him.