The room is rectangular with cold gray, stone walls. The bed is an antique style that looks to be from 18th century Europe with red linens and ornately carved posts. There is a fireplace in the corner with still warm embers that allow the temperature to drop below normal. The rool is rather cool, but still tolerable.
The forest ahead of me is filled with old oak trees that seem to futilely trying to grab the clouds. They block out most of the sunlight from the sparse underbrush. There are a few places where light seems to cascade in like a waterfall giving off a dim light to the surrounding foliage.
The narrow path resembles that of a game trail more then a path. It looks like something the deer might frequent during certain times of the year. It goes through the forest in a zig-zag manner.
The river I approach is one that is wider then I am tall at the narrowest point, and four to five times as wide as I am tall at its wider sections. The cold slow moving water signifies that it is spring fed. It picks up place near the edge of my vision to that of quick rapids and small waterfalls.
The silver cup lies half buried in the mud. It looks that it has been there for many years as it has moss growing on the lip and is severely tarnished. When first created it must have cost a fortune, it might be able to be polished and sold to an antique store.
It is a small bronze key that is heavier then it looks. It appears to open a three tumbler lock. The handle is ornately made by a master metalsmith with exquisite flower designs inlaid on them. It might have once been used to unlock a chest or a door belonging to a wealthy man.