Just as when he had first stumbled in, the room grew silent. It seemed as if all eyes were on him. He slowly drew the forkful of meat through the gravy as he tried to slyly peer around, seeing if his suspicions were correct.
“Well now,” Boots said, tapping his cards on the table in a nervous sort of way. “I’m supposin’ you beat out Planks here. All he has to his name is a bit o’ piracy.” Planks nodded again except this time it was a slower, almost melancholic type of nod, if a nod could be said to be so.
Boots tossed his cards into the middle of the table and yawned, though it seemed to Kre as if the yawn was fake and forced. “Late night. Good game Frank, Planks.” He paused, as his eyes landed on Kre, but he shook his head and simply held up a hand in an awkward sort of half-wave.
Planks set his cards down too and rose to his feet. He nodded once to Frank and to Kre and turned on his heel, following Boots down the nearest stairwell.
“A Dragon Knight you say,” Frank murmured. “Well. That’s…” He hesitated as if trying to find the right word but was saved the trouble when a small child, no older than eight years, tapped Kre on the elbow.
“Red will see you,” she stated simply and then she pointed down the other set of stairs. Kre looked over and saw Kitalia’s head already disappearing from view down the stairwell.
Kre sighed and looked down at his plate. The food looked so tantalizingly good and he hadn’t had a morsel of it yet. Inwardly, he wondered how much he could scarf down on his way to the stairs. He discarded the ignoble thought immediately, figuring that, as a guest, he should first pay honor to the head of the household as it were. He set the fork down, the bit of meat on the end still steaming slightly and dripping with gravy, and stood up from his chair.
Frank didn’t even look up as he said, “Some advice… be truthful with Red.”
Kre nodded and turned to see if the little girl was going to lead the way, but she was busy eating the food from Kre’s plate. His stomach grumbled, but at least he knew someone would get to enjoy the food, even if he couldn’t. He marched across the room towards the stairs, noticing that the room was still silent, and the eyes of the patrons were watching him as he strode across the hall.
At the top of the steps, he looked down and saw that they spiraled out of view. As soon as his foot planted on the first step down, the dining hall seemed to return to its prior activities, as if he no longer existed. Figuring that it couldn’t be all bad, considering that Kitalia was already downstairs, Kre continued down the steps in a slow lazy spiral.
After what he thought must be at least one full revolution, he came to a small landing. There was a door directly in front of him and one to his left. Both doors looked exactly the same and Kre guessed that the one in front of him led further downstairs. He hesitated, wondering which way he should go. The little girl didn’t mention anything about choosing a door.
His hand reached out and lightly touched the knob of the door to his left. “Weren’t you taught to knock?” came a muffled, yet still stern-sounding voice from the other side of the door.
Kre’s hand snapped back as if the door had bitten him. “I’m sorry,” he stammered softly, immediately embarrassed that he was apologizing to a door. He took a deep breath to try to center himself before he raised his fist to hammer on the door.