The Turret

After an exhausting flight of stairs (you mentally compare it to the infamous monster stairs of the Guild), you are faced with a heavy redwood door.
Sanded down beautifully, stained dark maroon and throbbing warmth at the touch, the door fitted snugly into the frame of climbing sweet pea and ivy. You pause, wondering whether such a secure door needs the courtesy of a knock.

While you puzzle over this small piece of etiquette a fresh breeze arrives through the small window to your left, briefly tousling your hair. The view is breathtaking from this height- for miles one can see the canopy of an old growth forest, slightly misted over with fog, and further, the sea. When you squint, you can make out a small gathering of lights if you dare lean outside.

Turning your attention back to the Door, you reach for the handle- smoothed and worn with use.
Open the Door