Sharpspike mutters agreement, and leads you onto the downward pathway. It's not long before you reach a new room, faintly lit by a single fire pit.<br/><br/>The room is absolutely devoid of life, which strikes you as kind of off. More so because it seems to be some kind of tavern, judging by the barrels of ale and bottles of strange liquor strewn across the room. If the area does nothing else, though, it definitely drives home how absolutely foul the mites are. The straw in the corners is rotten and mildewed, empty bottles lay wherever they were dropped, and several tables actually still have half-eaten food on them. Sanitary, they are not.<br/><br/>Across the room is a doorway that looks like it was stolen from someone else's house. Sharpspike approaches it and tries the handle... then tries it again. Confused, he turns to you.<br/><br/>"Nadia elf-girl, door won't open..."<br/><br/>No sooner are the words out of his mouth than you hear a crumbling sound. Behind you, something has clattered against the doorway you entered from, and try as you might, it won't budge...<br/><br/>