Angry with yourself for running away from an old man, you decide to waste no time by entering more side rooms, and stride confidently down the path as it snakes around corners. It seems to be descending. Torches at intervals on the walls light your way, but it still feels sinister, and as the path continues for what must be miles, you begin to get tired and hungry.
Around the next bend you come to a halt - in front of you is a beautiful, polished oak chair, carved with exquisite motifs and runes. Luckily, you are familiar with the runic script, and realize that they say: weary traveler, rest your head.