It's a small, dead end room in which torches are often aglow lining the walls. There are strange books scattered across the floor, old and falling apart, but still in a decent enough condition to be read. There is an old bed resting against the wall, made out of rotting hay and a stringy blanket that hadn't been slept in for at least 50 years. The books hold vast and unknown amounts of knowledge.

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Caverninthewaterfall