As king Str00f's spine melted into nothingness, the group left one-by-one up the stairs to where the map room lay (to be honest it was more of a library, but in this story it's only used for maps so it's a motherfucking map room, okay?).
Tim pushed the door ahead of him as he passed Maria in the hallway and it creaked open, slamming into the wall as it came to a stop. The grand room ahead of them was littered with books, maps and scraps of paper, some on shelves and some stacked in a rather unorganized fashion. Several torch sconces lit the edge of the room yet the center seemed to swallow all the light, save for a single candle on a desk about twenty yards in front of the entrance. A man they previously had not noticed peered up from his book and spoke, his voice seemingly quiet inside the huge room.
"And how can I help you, fine sirs?"
He asked, pushing the buffet which he perched on backwards and standing up. His features were quite... indescribable. His gender was the only certain thing about him because he looked young, but he hunched over like a 90-year-old woman with spinal problems; his face all looked to melt into one, there were no features you could really pick out.... to paint a portrait of him would be to paint what looked like a skin-coloured balloon.
"I was told you could help us on our quest, my good man. We're looking for a certain mythical object which I nor any among me pertain.... we seek-"
"He wants a fuckin' modshit."
Sean interrupted, clearly irritated about the lack of a new chapter for several weeks.
"Erm, yes. I wouldn't have put it so bluntly but yes, that is what I wish to obtain."
The man peered behind the group for a second. Their eyes all followed his to a single brick in the wall... nothing out of the ordinary.
"Dafuq r u lukin at u lil fkin prik? Il fkin rek u, u peez ov shit."
Lem queried. The man appeared to be shaken back into reality by this.
"Ah, yes. Sorry, I was just... remembering something. That, I can help you with. Wait by my desk whilst I collect the appropriate documents."
He shuffled off into the darkness of the room, looking no different to how you would imagine Quasimodo on heroin. Maria assured the group of his capability, despite this bell-ringing drug-addict appearance.
"Leo knows this place like the back of his hand. Every book, map and scroll has sat here for hundreds of years, and he's read them all in barely five. He'll be back with what you're looking for very soon."
