[Your consciousness drifts in to the sound of discordant whispers. It sounds like a hushed argument in another room, something you can't quite catch. You're cold. Your skin tingles slightly, and then...]
[It turns out to be a tree. But it's a dead tree, its bark peeling off and spongey with moisture and rot. In fact, the smaller twigs seem to be outright dissolving right on the branches.]
[It's a nice castle, but it looks like of fuzzy on the details, like a picture made by someone who hasn't seen it many times. The front doors are locked but the servant's entrance to the side is open.]
[ excuse you, he is not a servant. grumbling, but very reluctantly going through after a long glance at the main entrance. he does not want to break anything in here unless he's got a very good reason to think it needs breaking. ]
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