The steps leading down and down glisten in the candlelight. forms beyond the light scurry away from the footsteps. The solid wooden door stuggles and groans as it is opened for the first time in many years. Instead of the fetid rush of stale air, the atmosphere is stong, powerful and welcoming. By the flickering candle, a treasure trove of casks of liquid gold lie quietly maturing, awaiting the day that alexander macgavin decides it's time to visit again.