The bar was closed for the night. Kicking out the stragglers, Barlow locked the door and drew the curtains, closing off the bar from the rest of the inn. Walking behind the counter he threw open the massive hatch and climbed down into the tunnel, closing and locking it behind him. Igniting his lantern, he ventured down the dimly lit corridor as it descended slowly, far beyond where the foundation of the bar ended. Eventually, the tunnel opened into a small octagonal room, before narrowing again and burrowing further into the depths. But this is where he stopped for the night. This was his room. Largely bare, though there were small trinkets that he had collected through the ages. From family...