"Oh? Many do not seem to be of an amicable nature," he said, eyes searching the dimly lit room. It stank of dust, mold, and the acrid, leathery smell of a body that had long since rotted away.

He knelt over the remains, pulling the short sword from his sash and holding it near the body, watching the pommel expectantly. After a moment of absolutely nothing happening, he tucked it back into sash. Whatever it was he'd been apprehensive about clearly wasn't here.

"Do you like dolls?"