The door is heavy but well counterweighted. It is not locked and opens easily, and it swings shut of its own accord behind you.
The stone chamber beyond the entrance measures at least ten paces square. Peeling paint and broken scrollwork suggest that it was once decorated with some care, but now only dust remains. Three massive stone doors—one each to the left and right, and one directly across from the entrance—lead deeper into the tor.
A woman sits off to one side in the room, seemingly not at all bothered by the dim lighting conditions. Kneeling down and bowing her head, she seems to be caught up in prayer. The woman is a half-orc, a mixed-breed child born of the mingling of orc and human bloodlines, and by orc standards, she would be considered rather plain. Of course, considering that even the most charming and virile orcish warriors only rate as 'handsome' by human standards, what this says about her looks is perhaps best left unsaid.
Her orcish heritage seems to be particularly strong, greenish skin lending an almost sickly tinge to what otherwise appear to be very strong, healthy muscles. Two small tusks jut out slightly from her mouth, while strands of disheveled, reddish hair are clearly visible from beneath the steel cap she wears. Her clothes are made of rough-spun wool and consist of a shirt, breeches and a hooded cloak, while at her waist is a leather belt and boots cover her feet. Layered on over the wool shirt she wears is a second shirt, this one made of interwoven links of metal. A chain shirt, in other words, similar to the one you wear.
As the door closes behind you, the woman takes notice and, raising her head, turns to look at you, regarding you for a few seconds before speaking.
"Uh... Storm-peace?" She asks in a cautious tone, one hand placed on the wooden staff that lays on the ground beside her.
The custom of storm-peace evolved long ago in response to the sudden and severe storms that plague this area. The basic concept is that an automatic truce exists between all individuals and groups who seek shelter in neutral territory during a lightning storm. Such weather is simply too dangerous for fighting, regardless of people’s feelings toward one other. Storm-peace is assumed to be in effect unless someone specifically rejects it. Even so, whenever two strangers meet during a lightning storm, they often greet one another by asking “Storm-peace?” simply to ensure that the other knows and respects the tradition.
^Just a little extra background knowledge that your character would know. ^^;
At any rate, here's the map of the room. Each square is equal to five feet, so of course it's only a rough representation.
Feel free to tell me where you want yourself and your mule and cart to be placed.))