Ambiance!
You can always tell an Adventuring Guild storehouse from the smell. There’s a little bit of everything: sun, wet, wood, stone, slime, spices, rust, wool, wine, and well-scrubbed sweat and blood. It ain’t a bad smell, but you can tell that the stuff it comes from has been around. Usually it wasn’t by somebody’s choice, either.
Lucas walked the two of us through the tight corridors right to his own stockpile, which was impressive. The other way you can tell a Guild storehouse is from all the stuff piled up in it, every which way. Adventurers never throw anything away if they can help it. It’s all what you’re used to, I guess.
His own stash was larger than I expected, until I remembered that Lucas was being the bagman for his entire crew. I could see why, too: a lot of the visible stuff were the kind of items you didn’t melt down for the gold. Lucas saw me looking. “So, you probably heard we were looking for the Lost Treasure of the Rodeo Drive,” he said.
“Yeah,” I replied as I examined a gold-plated cigarette lighter. I flicked it, but there wasn’t any flame. Big surprise: it was, what, five hundred years old? I tossed it back. “Guess it wasn’t as lost as they thought.”