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The stable isn’t very big, enough for about five horses. The construction is well sealed from the cold, the breath and body heat from the animals are enough to warm it up to an extent.

The horse that's uneasy doesn't seem scared of Cyrus, or of anything in particular, while the other horse, the homeowner's, is perfectly calm, and even extends its neck to smell at him, curious if he'd brought it a treat. Hay, water, dung.. he doesn't notice anything unusual.

"Hm..."

While he should look around for possible danger, he also just wants his bag to be safe. So he prioritizes that instead. He looks around for his bag in hopes of finding it in okay shape.

⋅⋅⊱༻ • Cyrus roll to find bag ༺⊰⋅⋅

Roll Request: [d20]

Dice results:

“ 4 ”

The horse that just escaped must’ve been the one with the bag on its back, since he can't find it anywhere.

He snaps his head back to the wide open door as his frown grows deeper.

"Tch curses!!"

He stomps to the exit, but doesn’t forget to close the stable door gently behind him.

Outside, the moon is shining bright, although there are moments when everything goes dark as the passing clouds suffocate its light. It’s too much of a bother to head back and get a lantern, and besides, a frightened horse is hard to miss.

He walks in the direction the animal took off, and sure enough, he can hear it still huffing distressedly a good distance away. It ran downhill, but he can’t see it because of the trees.

He watches his step as he quietly approaches, mindful of the shuffle of his clothes and the clinking of his sword.

Despite his best efforts, he unknowingly steps on a twig in the dark, alerting the horse that startles and trots farther downhill…

After a while of following, the horse had eventually calmed down and came to a stop, and Cyrus no longer needed to be stealthy as it wasn’t scared of him anymore. He gets a hold of its reins, then looks around to better locate himself.

That’s when he sees a gaping black hole in the cliff face to his right, and as his eyes travel higher up, he finds himself looking at the house he was in just a few minutes ago, perched over the edge. Fireplace and candle lights seep out the windows, illuminating the tree tops down where Cyrus is.

…

He halts and just stares at the cave, his hands slowly sliding down the horse.

"Why did you run off so hurriedly… What scared you?"

He turns to the horse and sighs. These animals can be great at sensing danger… then again some of them would also startle if you speak too loudly or move too briskly. He wished he could understand it to some level, but unfortunately it’s a borrowed steed and he doesn’t have that kind of connection with it. He pats its back before detaching his bag from it, throwing it over his shoulder and turning toward the cave. He can leave the horse for now, it doesn't seem like it'll be running away any time soon, and Cyrus just needs to do a quick inspection; he’ll be right back.

He steps closer to the cave, wary of the unknown in the dark. The moonlight and the warm lights from the house are his only comfort.

He stands in the entrance now.

He hesitates.

It’s just a cave, a natural happening; he could go back up to the house and leave it at that. But knowing himself, he likely won’t catch a wink of sleep while aware of this ominous thing right below them…

He takes a deep breath and steps in, hand on the hilt of his sword as he lets himself be engulfed by the darkness.

The cave gets wider inside and goes deeper, he can barely see when he reaches the end of it, where he finds a door-sized hole carved into the rock.

".….I feel my suspicions being validated..."

He enters through the opening without a second thought, but stumbles and almost falls face-first as he unknowingly walks into a set of steps.

‘Stairs…?’

How inconvenient to not have a source of light right now… He carefully climbs up the unlit flight of stairs, his ascent gaining in speed as he becomes familiar with the consistent height of the steps.

He goes up what should be the equivalent of two stories when he bumps his head against wood.

"Ack-"

He rubs his poor betrayed forehead as he feels the wood around with his other hand.

"This...."

He knocks.

"Empty on the other side."

He feels around for a handle.

‘…I'll just break in if I don’t find one—’

Thankfully, he does find it, and as he pushes up it gives in rather easily.

As Cyrus steps up, he finds himself in a confined space, dim light bleeding from under and over what must be a door. It’s better lighting than the cave, and he can sort of make out the various objects on the shelves… it’s a storage room from the looks of it. He can hear dish clattering far to his right, and to his far left, quiet noises of idle chatter and a fireplace.

He takes a moment to think as his hand subconsciously comes to rest on his chin.

"This has got to be the cartographer’s house... And that must be where I last left them... And that would be the kitchen..."

Huh.

Not to be rude, but he expected at least one secret room, or maybe a prison or a passage connecting to a complex system of tunnels; He scoffs at his own wild imagination. The stairs only led him straight to the house, how disappointing.

"But why would the house need to be connected to the cave? Did the cartographer want different entrances and escape routes? Perhaps he gets trouble often in this secluded area...”

He keeps mumbling as he eyes the various objects around him.

He can make out what must be a broom, more cleaning items, dried vegetables hanging from the low ceiling —he has to bend down slightly— some big sacks and multiple chopped-up logs and twigs gathered neatly in a big pile to the corner, likely for the furnace. Next to it however, on the side wall, is a door, a sack of potatoes is leaning against it.

‘Oh? There’s more?’ A tinge of joyful whimsy tingles in his chest, it has been a while since his love for mystery has been satisfied.

He pushes the sack of potatoes to the side with his foot, then examines the door with his hand, pressing on it.

When that doesn’t work, he tries to slide it.

It slides open without a sound, revealing another set of stairs going up. They are awfully narrow and the steps are high, as if careful not to take too much space in the house's architecture.

“So inefficient and tight… though, I suppose I'd like one of these paths back at the dukedom.” Assassins aren't very common, but they are always a possibility, given the status and importance of the figures living in and serving the Redwood. So escape plans would be a good idea.

He goes up, his shoulders pressed a bit too tight for his liking.

This time the stairs lead him to a small door, also unlocked, and as he bows down to get through, he walks right into a wall of thick fabric.

‘A curtain..?’ He steps back, confusion written all over his face.

He feels around the fabric and tries to raise it, pushing it above so he can pass under. But under the layer of fabric… is another layer of fabric? they all seem to be attached at the top- They are coats. Right. Of course. He's in a wardrobe.

“This is… uncomfortable…” It suddenly dawns on him that he's inside someone's ROOM. He had fun finding that cave and exploring the storage but this now feels a bit too invasive… But what if there’s something interesting? …He’ll just take a quick peek. He continues forward, pushing the coats aside as he crouches inside.

There's a dim warm light coming from the creeks around the wardrobe doors, he can hear the small crackle of a dying fire. He also notes a faint smell of lavender sticking to the clothes.

"The smell is pleasant at least." It sort of compensates for the claustrophobia. Sort of.

He creaks the wardrobe door open, the warm orange light seeping into the dark enclosed space. He peeks out, and steps out only after making sure nobody else was in the room.

"And this... must be the bedroom... I believe this is far beyond breaking a boundary."

The room is medium-sized, which only serves to further exaggerate the proportions of the bed in the middle. Disproportionate is an understatement, it is huge, taking up much of the room's space. Despite that, it is well made and tidy, as is the rest of the room. There are two small bedside tables with a couple items on them, a small library to the side wall, and a cabinet on the wall opposite the bed. The fireplace is on the same wall as the wardrobe he was in, the flame is almost out.

"How cozy."

Step.

Knock.

Step.

Knock.

Step.

KNOCK.

A set of irregular footsteps comes from behind the bedroom door, approaching fast.

Cyrus swiftly ducks back into the wardrobe, he barely gets enough time to close its doors before the bedroom door swings open, the footsteps not halting even for a moment as they determinedly stride toward him-

Both wardrobe doors are torn wide open.

Cyrus slipped last minute behind one of the coats but he isn’t sure how much of him is hidden—

“Where are youuu…”

‘Crap! My feet are-’

“Huff, Miss Betty was right, you really are here.” The man extends a hand and pulls out his fair-weather coat.

Cyrus can hear his heartbeat more than the cartographer’s retreating footsteps.

“I could swear I left you on the downstairs hanger…”

And the bedroom door clicks shut.

“……..…”

‘I should- I should head back.’

Cyrus took too long, if the man is dressing up, he’s probably heading out to look for him…

He should leave the cave before the cartographer gets to it.

.

.

.

⋅⋅⊱༻To be continued༺⊰⋅⋅