The moment Kyet was inside the unseen figure slammed the door shut again, taking great pains to secure it in place behind them.  He ushered them through the darkness with clicks of the tongue, like an old nanny attempting to herd a bunch of cats.  The air was filled with the pungent odor of dust, herbs, and garlic, and every so often one of them would feel their feet catch on<em>something</em>that had been placed on the floor.  It felt like they were being led steadily<em>downwards</em>, until at last they came into a small room lit by precious candlelight.<br/><br/>Finally in view, Olaf was about what one would have expected from someone who actually dared to live in such a decrepit old place.  He was the sort of person that had likely been quite fat at some point, only to have lost far too much weight far too quickly.  His sallow skin seemed to hang off him like curdled milk, which was coincidentally exactly what he smelled like.  The man had a particularly haunted expression, as if he'd seen something that had sucked all the joy right out of the world.  If the rumors were to be believed, that may very well have been the case.<br/><br/>He licked his lips, tugging the tattered rags about his shoulders and rubbing his arms to keep out the chill.<em>"Siddown whar ya like,"</em>he muttered, gesturing vaguely.  There wasn't very much to look at here, just a bare space lit by a candle in the wall.  The walls and the ceiling bulged ominously, as if they were only just managing to support the weight of the floor above them.  There were a few stools with mismatched legs strewn about, as well as a collection of pillows and blankets that likely served as the man's bed.<br/><br/>Olaf squinted at Tara for a moment.<em>"Ye.  I know ye.  Live 'round here, eh?"</em>Then to the others,<em>"Dun know ye.  But only one reason anyone ever comes to visit 'ole Olaf anymore.  So go on.  Out wif it."</em>