On the desk you see a bottle of home-made ink with a feather, a crystal ball on it's holder and pieces of parchment. The air is thick with pipe smoke, it tickles your throat. You look closer to see the writing. Just then a stern voice rumbles: 'Just WHAT do you think you're doing in MY chamber?'
(Nov 4th:) Since there seemed to be nothing else to complain but the parchment, I fixed it to look thinner. Hope you enjoy it now!