A Literary Refuge…
Rows and rows of shelves, reaching from floor to ceiling and piled high with books. Somehow, this room seems at once both small and cozy and expansive, larger than even the hold around it – a pocket dimension, Tardis, bag of holding – more than it appears at first glance. Thick volumes, scrolls, paperbacks, reference tomes – all have a place here. Chairs are set in corner niches for perfect reading nooks, and thick oaken tables provide a surface for writing or studying. The scent of dust and old paper, not at all unpleasant, hangs in the air, and one might almost hear the whisper of pages rustling even when alone in the room. Lamps cast a soft, warm golden glow across the room, easy to read by, but not without shadows flickering in every corner.
Fail to return your borrowed tomes, and you are inviting a visit from Sister Sinistre… and not for tea.