"Interesting," Joli muttered.  She wanted to take a look at that book.  But the sound of the squeaking and the sight of the rotting barrels told her that there was likely swarms of rats in the room.  Did she risk it to satisfy her curiosity?  Yes... yes she did.<br/><br/>She stepped away from the door and looked around the room she was currently in.  There were rusted old tools and other debris about the room.  Finding an old chisel of sturdy enough make, she set it near the door.  Then she'd dig through her bag and pull out the single oil flask she'd brought.  Hefting the clay jar in one hand, she then looked around for anything that would hold a flame; a bit of old rope, a chunk of dry wood, the leg of a table, etc.  Coating one end with just a bit of oil she'd use her flint and steel to set the bit aside, making a tiny torch, ' a punk' the humans would call this.<br/><br/>Once that was accomplished, she'd set them aside and move back to the door.  She'd open the door and jam the old chisel into the gap between the door and the floor, holding the door open.  She'd check to make sure the door wouldn't shut on her.  Only once satisfied that she wouldn't be trapped in the room, she'd pick back up her other possessions.  Then holding her torch in one hand, and the stoppered clay jar of oil and punk in her main hand.  She was going to move into the room slowly, carefully, watching for a rat.  "When you see one, you don't see a dozen." was the old saying for rats.  If it looked like she was about to be swarmed she'd break for the doorway and throw her oil and flaming punk down in the doorway.  She figured that the rats would either stop at the flaming pool of oil or would burn up.<br/><br/>Forearmed and prepared, she stepped into the room carefully.