Where is the secret room in Leyawiin?

The tapestry isn’t just judging your life choices—it’s hiding a button

Tucked away in Leyawiin Castle, behind a tapestry that’s seen more drama than a Khajiit merchant haggling over moon sugar, lies the entrance to the secret room. To find it, you’ll need to channel your inner cat burglar (or just a cat) and interact with the suspiciously pristine wall hanging near the castle’s guest rooms. Spoiler: The tapestry doesn’t whisper clues, but it *does* guard a button that would make Bond villains blush.

Why is the room even here? Ask the Count’s son (or don’t)

This clandestine cubbyhole isn’t just for storing expired sweetrolls. It’s part of the quest “Scheduled for Execution”—a title that sounds like a bad desk calendar slogan. The room’s purpose? Let’s just say Count Marius Caro’s son, Atius, has a flair for overly complicated hide-and-seek. Inside, you’ll find evidence of crimes, conspiracy, and probably a few misplaced skeletons. Pro tip: Don’t linger too long. The guards outside have a sixth sense for “unauthorized interior design tours.”

Breaking in? More like awkwardly shuffling in

To access the room:

• Stand in front of the tapestry like you’re waiting for it to validate your parking.
• Press the button (it’s quieter than a mudcrab’s yoga session).
• Pray the door opens before a guard asks why you’re hugging the wall.

If successful, you’ll slip into a space so secret, even the cheese wheel in the corner doesn’t know how it got there. If not, enjoy explaining your newfound obsession with interior textiles to the local law enforcement.

Should I give Amusei a lockpick?

Let’s address the elephant in the room—or rather, the mischievous entity eyeing your toolbox. Should you hand Amusei a lockpick? Well, that depends. Do you trust them to use it solely for “creative problem-solving” (their words) and not, say, liberate your neighbor’s lawn gnome collection? Consider their résumé: Are they a certified locksmith, or just really into heist movies? Proceed with caution, or at least a liability waiver written in invisible ink.

But wait—what’s the worst that could happen?

Giving Amusei a lockpick is like giving a seagull a megaphone. Consequences may include, but are not limited to:

• Unexpected treasure hunts in your backyard (spoiler: the “treasure” is expired coupons).
• Your shed becoming a pop-up escape room for squirrels.
• A sudden surge in “borrowed” bicycles mysteriously reappearing…in your living room.

The middle ground: diplomacy with flair

If you’re feeling adventurous, propose a lockpick trial run. Let them tackle a “mystery box” (an old lunchbox filled with rubber bands and a single sock). If they succeed, celebrate their skill! If they fail, gently suggest they stick to decoding cereal box puzzles. Alternatively, gift them a glitter-bomb lockpick—because nothing says “fun and responsible” like sparkly consequences.

Ultimately, the choice is yours. Just remember: Lockpicks unlock doors, but they also unlock questions. Like, “Why is Amusei whispering to the toaster?” and “Since when does my dog have a LinkedIn profile?” Tread wisely, or at least keep a spare key hidden under that suspiciously loose patio tile.

Where is the Thieves Guild located in Oblivion?

If you’re wandering the streets of Cyrodiil, pockets suspiciously jingling and morals conveniently flexible, you might ask: “Where’s the nearest Thieves Guild office?” Well, grab your lockpicks and prepare for disappointment—it’s not in a glamorous underground lair with a flashing “STEAL HERE” sign. No, the Thieves Guild operates out of a shack so unremarkable, it’s practically a metaphor for their career choices. Head to the Imperial City Waterfront District, where the slums meet the sea, and look for a sad little hovel that screams, “I’ve given up on life.” Congratulations, you’ve found it! The door’s probably locked, but hey—that’s what you’re here for, right?

But Wait—There’s a Loose Floorboard (Obviously)

Once inside the shack, channel your inner drama queen and search for the loose floorboard under a rug that’s seen better centuries. Lift it, descend into the dimly lit void, and voilà—you’re in the Thieves Guild headquarters. It’s like Narnia, if Narnia were run by people who’d steal your coat while explaining the loot-sharing policy. The guild’s obsession with secrecy is so intense, they probably hide their brooms in fake walls. Rumor has it even the rats here sign NDAs.

• Pro tip: If you get lost, follow the scent of desperation and stale mead.
• Pro-pro tip: Don’t mention the Gray Fox’s “identity issues.” They’re sensitive about it.

Alternative Entrances (for the Overachieving Kleptomaniac)

Prefer your criminal enterprises with extra steps? Certain city-specific quests, like the Cheydinhal sanctuary, offer “backdoor access” (literally—it’s behind a fake grave). But let’s be real: the Waterfront shack is the VIP lounge of vice. Why? Because nothing says “elite thief” like tripping over fishing nets and dodging mudcrabs on your way to work. Bonus points if you convince yourself the mildew smell is “ambiance.”

So there you have it. The Thieves Guild’s HQ isn’t just a location—it’s a state of mind. And possibly a health code violation. Happy thieving!

Where is Amusei Oblivion?

Ah, the million-dollar question! If we told you, we’d have to send you on a quest involving a talking hedgehog, a GPS powered by existential dread, and at least three contradictory Google Maps pins. Amusei Oblivion isn’t so much a “where” as a “why is my compass spinning like a breakdancing penguin?” Rumor has it, it’s nestled between the cracks of reality—somewhere east of your lost car keys, north of that one *really* weird dream you had about sentient waffles, and just a hopscotch away from the Bermuda Triangle’s summer home.

Is It a Real Place? (Spoiler: ¯_(ツ)_/¯ )

Scientists (or at least, scientists who’ve had too much espresso) theorize Amusei Oblivion exists in a dimension where socks go missing, Wi-Fi signals vanish mid-scroll, and all sarcasm is taken literally. If you’re hoping to visit, pack a suitcase full of paradoxes and a map drawn in invisible ink. Pro tip: Follow the sound of a kazoo playing show tunes. If you hear banjos, turn back.

• Latitude: Probably 404° ‘Location Not Found’
• Longitude: Depends on how many times you’ve blinked today
• Altitude: Somewhere between “I’m fine” and “existential freefall”

Still confused? Good. Amusei Oblivion thrives on chaos. Some claim it’s hidden in plain sight—like that suspiciously empty lot between your dentist’s office and the taco truck that only appears on leap years. Others insist it’s a metaphysical concept, like the “quiet place” your yoga instructor mentions while you’re actively questioning your life choices. Either way, if you do find it, let us know. We’ll trade directions for a spare sense of purpose and a lightly used existential crisis.

Just remember: The journey *is* the destination. Unless the destination is a glitch in the matrix. Then maybe just enjoy the glitch.