[center][h3][u][b][color=sienna]D R I F T E R[/color][/b][/u][/h3]
[i][b]From the Rooftops to the Underground[/b][/i][/center]
[hr]
The heavy bang of a wooden door made the drifter glance back towards the alleyway. A heavy set, but not entirely uncharming woman invited those who were gathering into the tavern. Was she just opening for business? A lot of those people didn't seem like regular clientele of a bar in this part of town...especially the knights and the ones who, like himself, were clearly from out of town. A Goron, and a man with a cane in traveler's garb--although something about that one rankled the swordsman's senses. His face...wasn't right. Or rather, it was [i]too[/i] right? Something.

But ultimately, though curious, it was none of the drifter's business. And he had an adventure to go on. His umbrella still playing its pitter-patter against the backdrop of the storm, he turned back to the overgrown lot in the rear of the bar. He closed his eyes.

The smell of dark and dank, an enclosed space with dirt and moss that rarely went completely dry. The slight whistle of the storm's breeze passing over a narrow entrance, like a village band blowing over the lips of their moonshine jugs. The scrape of branches and leaves, grown cramped and close together, over stone and mortar. The sound of rain hitting water--but water that was far deeper, under the drifter's feet.

He tossed his umbrella straight up. It spun, slinging a ring of droplets, but the man below it remained dry even as he pushed aside his cloak and reached for a handle made of wood...

[center][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/narutofanon/images/5/58/Kamui_Hawatari.png/revision/latest?cb=20150612025559[/img][/center]

There was a wooden click as he pushed the handle flush against the rest of the scabbard. He reached up almost lazily and caught his umbrella as his cloak settled back into place. As he turned to face it, the woody shrub's branches fell apart, each one cut clean through to reveal a cracked well of stone bricks arranged in a rough circle. A runner of ivy emerged from the depths and crawled over the lip before its leaves became too heavy and it drooped to the ground. Drifter wasn't sure if the vine could support a person's weight or not, but the well's opening was certainly large enough to fit him. With one last glance back at the bar--as the now unlocked door shuddered somewhat against the wind--the wanderer decided to see where the rest of this adventure was going to take him. He closed his umbrella, and before the rain could soak him he hopped over the edge.

[i]The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.[/i]

He didn't so much fear any caves or tunnels, though, as he feared the drop might be too long.