Despite Knutiks intentions to retreat and hide, as he filtered through the dirt earth beneath them he would soon find himself surrounded by walls. No longer simply outside looking in. Wooden walls, polished and oiled giving a deep red coating to its old face. Intricate patterned wallpaper of sharp grays, light browns and thin glittering lines of gold hugged tightly to the lower third of the wall, faded and peeling in the small patches were it began to fail the endless fight against time. 
The room, which seemed more of a hallway, had no doors except for those at either end. More red wood like that of the walls. An ornate candle chandelier hung centre of the roof. A long plush rug acted as a floor covering. 

“Welcome”
So confident and sure the voice was. Although the door behind him had only just started opening, the word sounded like it was spoken beside him. All around him. In stepped a man. Dorian. His eyes intent but gentle. Hands folded behind his back. 
“What brings you to my establishment?” He asks kindly with a gentle curiosity, but at the same time strictly to the point.