No need to knock, nothing so simple as that... finding the door is a challenge in itself... one must first survive the perils of the surrounding jungle, and once that hurdle is conquered, only emerging from the jungle at precisely the right angle will lead to the welcome of a large wooden door...
Barely discernible beneath the overhanging boughs, this arch is wrapped in vines and thorns, and hung so thick with flowering roses that beyond... well, beyond, only shadows can be seen...
The soul brave enough to dare those shadows will find himself at the door . The door is a Gothic arch, neatly pointed at the top, and flanked by slender stone columns hung with wrought-iron crests... ornate puzzle pieces, fern leaves and crossed swords and twisted spokes to crown the top, all curiously fitted together and bending towards the planks of banded oak...
This door never opens without diamonds-on-glass grating... it enters onto a foyer tiled with serpentine marble, a pool of dark forest green, almost black, liquid and reflecting the lamp light in hazy circles... just a few paces down, a set of double-doors leads to parts unknown, towards the west side of the building... a few steps more, and a door to the left leads eastward, going the opsite way. Ornate Victorian gas lamps hang all in a row along the ceiling of this glass gallery, but they are never fueled, never lit... Only the keenest nocturnal eyes could venture this far, and eyes that cannot make out the way through the bath of utter darkness probably do not belong...
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