As you begin flipping through the book, you notice that its pages vary wildly in size, the quality of their material and, presumably, their authorship: The style of the strange symbols covering every square inch of the parchment changes between pages, each less decipherable than the last. You don’t think that your lack of knowledge is exclusively to blame for this, as the writing seems heavily smudged or bloated in places, as if the manuscript had been left out in the rain on multiple occasions. As you go past the midway point of the book, the walls of text thin out to make way for strange drawings depicting wagons with oddly placed wheels, walls of closely stacked, roofless castle towers, long horizontal white cylinders with wings… Your amazement increases with each image. You keep flipping through, uncovering drawing after drawing, until- near the end of the book- a colourful piece of paper flutters out from between the pages. You absentmindedly watch as it lands between your feet. As you return your attention to the book, you notice that a red velvet bookmark rests on the page you have just opened.
>Investigate bookmarked page