Hassan gentle touches the bleached wallpaper, watching it as a cracks and crumbles as though with age.<br/><br/>"Mullah...!" the others hear him faintly curse to himself.<br/><br/>"Well, we don't know exactly who or what did this," he says, turning back toward the band, "but there are somethings that can't be coincidence. The sun hangs over our heads as though the Gods are inspecting it like a jewel. Look at the wallpaper here, it has bleached as though it sat in the sun for years, yet the rest of the room is pristine. I am as certain as Balder is fair: the one we seek is tied to the sun or to light. It is not much of a lead, but it is better than nothing."