Searider Falcon

"The Poisoned Sleep of Tantalus" -- A room. A desk. A chair. A lamp, a dim glow, amber gloam and writhing shadows. The Books stacked high upon the desk, threatening to collapse. The trees outside the window. The wind in the trees. The door closed and locked shut, the rasp of a latch and the click of a bolt and the silence just after. Where has the key gone to now? The sullen towers of storm clouds on the horizon rolling down the hills, a color somewhere between the deepest ocean and the blackest...