"Hmmm..." I mused, looking back and forth between the map and the long, thin building. Did I really want to go in there? Really?
I began to file through my choices: Step in and get whisked off to some strange adventure, wander around for who know's how long until I got home, or stand here and weigh these options until everything shifted again and set me back to where I had started.
With a sigh, I rolled up the map and pushed the door open.
I nearly leapt out of my boots.
"This is the hall for all you lack-of-storyliners!"
I warily side-glanced the tall, librarian-type lady to my left, wondering what outburst she'd come out with next. She had a bob of brown hair, a rather plain dress, some tall shoes, and a pair of glasses that ended in horns--definatly a style I was unfamiliar with. She also clutched a titleless book.
"Well," she said, leaning closer and lowering her glasses to get a better look at me, "You look rather sure of yourself. You must be the protagonist."
I was about to point out that that had nothing to do with it, but she had already wrapped her free arm around my shoulders and was escorting me down the hall, answering a million other questions she assumed I had.
"You see how this buildling is just one, continous hall? It's supposed to represent a storyline. We do occasionally have a few wild twists and turns here and there, but only to throw people off gaurd. Oh, by the way, I'm the welcomer," she giggled, "if you didn't notice. Here," she suddenly cut herself off and pointed at one of the thousands of doors that lined the hall, "is your dormitory. The dormitoriess are divided up between protagonists, side-characters, and antagonists. That way we avoid any major mishaps. And down here--"
"Thank you," I forced a smile and lifted her arm off of me, "But I really don't want to stay here. I need to get home. There is a battle coming up and if I don't tell the King about it soon--"
"Shh, shh, shh," she put a finger to her lips as if trying to soothe a small child, "Everything will be alright. Just stay here for the night and we will see what we can do about everything tommorrow."
I was an advisor. I knew when a person was lying--especially when it was to my face. But I also knew when I wasn't getting out of something. And, judging by her persistence and my helplessness, I wasn't. Not yet, anyways.
"Up there is the cafeteria. All the other doors lead to workshops that you and others like you will be attending. The last door leads to the head of Storyline Hall. Do not go there unless your invited. That's basically it."
I could tell she'd done this at least a million times. I wondered what her best time was on that speech.
"Well," she opened the door to my dorm and nudged me inside, "Have fun!"