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Oley
The stairs were dark, lit only by the light that fell from the room above. At the bottom a small door opened as the mage entered. Inside glass bottles, empty and half empty mugs, cups, glasses and beakers were piled in a corner in a most haphazard manner. In the center of the room was a large pentagram etched into the stone floor and the etchings filled with iron filings while the spokes of the symbol were filled with silver shavings.
Behind that were shelves packed with a tremendous assortment of equipment, jewlery and rings, a glass display case of wands, an alchemy workshop (or at least a sealed off room labelled as such), cages containing numerous experiments, growling, mewling, crying, snarling, and most disturbing, watching and appraising, biding it's time until it could attack (a very disturbing sight from a flower).
A few stools were placed at various tables and workbenches, one wall is lined with tomes bound in various materials that gives the impression that touching it would be very very bad. One workbench holds a book easily four feet tall and at least 6 wide while open although the writing is miniscule and several lenses are nearby to facilitate reading.
The aged magic user walks across the room and sits at the far side of the table facing the entering crowd. He then put on a hat whose point has long since fallen to the left side and is embroidered with stars and moons, a pair of spectacles and brushed some bits of food out of his scraggly beard. "Yes yes, come in, what is it I the great Oley can do for you today?"
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