The building that surrounds you is a ghost of it's former self. The roof is open, and sunlight filters through the branches of a huge oak tree that sits in the center of the vast hall where printing machines once stood.
There is grass beneath your feet, and the walls are covered with vines, which are displaying soft white blossoms. A small group of squirrels play beneath the oak tree, and you feel at peace.
You cannot remember how you arrived here, and you wonder, for a moment, if perhaps you have gone mad. A tree in the middle of a building? Here, in Belfast?
Then, quietly, a figure steps out from behind the girth of the tree. He is tall, perhaps eight feet in height, and his blue skin and long horns identify him as a Troll, and an old one at that. He is noble in a way, and wears a huge axe on his belt.
He stares at you for a moment, and then smiles.
"Welcome," says Lord Galway, "Welcome to the Brick Glade."
He raps his great knuckles upon the trunk of the oak, and a doorway, carved from the living bark, opens. He indicates for you to enter.
"Take the Oak Stair, and we will discuss in private the reason you are here."
Do you Take the Stair?
You notice some Seeds lying around the base of the tree.
There is writing on the bark of the tree. You can read it from here.
Or do you Go back from whence ye came ?
A tattered newspaper fragment drifts by. It's marked March 7th, 1997. Do you catch it and read it ?
Lord Galway coughs, and says "You are the th vistor to the Brick Glade."