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Thunder coughed, the dust from the old tomes settling around him.

Where am i? What is this place?

He had no memory of entering this dark room, and in fact, he didnt remember much at all, except his name. Gavin Thunderfoot. Or just Thunder.

He pushed himself out of the massive pile of books, old scrolls, and ancient writings tumbling across the cold stone floor. His leather jerkin and buckskin pants were covered in dust, as was the sheath that held his sword. He knew nothing but his name, and that he had to find out where he was, and how to get out.

He walked silently over to the heavy wooden door, with a small looking space at eye level, an he pulled it open. He grimaced at the lound thud it made, hitting the stone floor, alerting everybody and anybody to his existence. He looked down the hall, lit by dim torches, and he decided to take the left. Before he could however, he heard footsteps.

Crap.