Blake tripped forward, expecting a stair that wasn't there. As he picked himself up, shaking his head to clear the figurative cobwebs, he looked around and realized - there was something to look at. Some light peeked through a crack in the wall of what seemed to be a very large room.
"Humbot," he hissed, "where are we?"
Humbot, who had followed him up (although minus the trip-and-fall), shone his headlamps around the room.
"We appear to be in a large room. Elevation shows us as about 3500 feet about the bottom of the staircase. My GPS can't get an exact reading - something seems to be interfering with the transmission."
"Wait, shine your light over there!" Blake said.
Humbot turned, and, in doing so, illuminated a plush couch with a bowl of water next to it. As his mouth screamed for moisture, Blake scampered over, threw himself on the couch and lifted the bowl to drink deep.
"Blake, wait - "
"Stow it, Humbot. I know to just sip until my stomach gets used to it."
"It's not that, it's -"
"And I'm sitting down because my feet hurt. We've just walked up 3500 feet of stairs, or had you forgotten?"
"No, it's -"
The lights went on, momentarily blinding Blake.
"Hey, who's this?" came a new voice. "And what are ye doin' in the Reverend-General's bedchamber? Drinkin' 'er Holy Water?"
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