"What exactly is the nature of your power?" 

"A complete answer would be both beyond your understanding and rely on information I wish to keep secret. But, for the most part, I have used it to exert my will over a portion of the Eternal House, and mostly control its behavior here."

Yeah okay you can't be trusted, great. 

"Who else do you have working with you here?" 

"Working with me in what sense?"

He shrugs.

"Any sense?" 

"I pay Ton'guni, our resident physician, to provide medical services to my guests. Occasionally other people assist me in accommodating guests by providing various services—designing and building furniture for species which have not historically had furniture, for instance. Otherwise, I don't consider any of my guests to be doing work that directly serves my aims, although they do trade things with one another."

"What sort of species have not historically had furniture?" 

"Several of my guests throughout the years have come from cultures that did not practice agriculture or live a sedentary lifestyle, and hence never developed furniture-making. I suppose I don't know that no members of that species ever made furniture, but if they did it was not known to us, and the house refuses to give us new information in that manner. Usually they can use furniture developed for other species, but sometimes that isn't comfortable for them. In one case, one of my guests was a winged humanoid from a hunter-gatherer culture. She disliked sitting on stools, and built a special chair with an exceptionally narrow back that could fit between her wings."

"Most recently we faced this problem with the cats, who did have some specialized furniture developed for them by humans, but not on the assumption that they were sapient. So, there wasn't a straightforward way for them to comfortably sit at a dinner table and eat with other people, for instance. A group of carpenters remedied this by developing a new type of broad high stool."

"Well, fair enough." 

"... No other questions are occurring to me. If you wish to go do ... whatever it is you were planning on doing today before I arrived, I don't mind." 

"My attention is not so limited, but perhaps it would be best to give you some time alone. If you call me, I will come."

And she departs.

What the fuck. He doesn't like it. It reminds him of gods, who are entirely untrustworthy and not nearly as predictable as you'd think. 

Nonetheless, it's the situation he's in. He's going to take a nap and see if things seem clearer when he wakes. 

Well, his head does seem somewhat clearer, and having a chance to nap somewhere comfortable* has reduced the aching in his bones somewhat. He's sort of thirsty, again. He ought to go see if he can find anyone to talk to other than that possibly evil goddess, or something to drink. Maybe they'll have some beer somewhere. 

He wishes he had his club, or really any sort of walking stick, but even without it, he will get up and head out exploring. Carefully. He has good reason to think this place has traps. 

*flat

A hallway connects to the room he slept in. It frequently bends left or right, mostly at right angles, and refuses to keep a straight course for long. Beyond each of the doors lining it is either a another hallway or a room, mostly bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, sitting rooms, and dining rooms—the kind of places you'd find in a house. Many of those rooms have doors of their own, leading to yet more rooms and hallways. The layout is senseless, as if someone built many separate houses (or perhaps took completed individual rooms from separate houses) and haphazardly stitched them together. None of the hallways or staircases take straight courses, and seem to delight in connecting to each other unpredictably. Overall, the layout of the house implies a complete lack of the planning that an actual architect would do when constructing a building, or perhaps an active opposition to planning or things that look like they were designed with a purpose. It also becomes apparent that the geometry of the house is not euclidean, because it is possible to loop around to the same place you were earlier, without taking a path that would form a closed loop in euclidean space. Either that, or the house is just moving things around when he isn't looking.

The individual rooms, however, make sense. Each seems to be designed with a clear purpose in mind, and is reasonably well-suited for that purpose. Likewise, although the style of construction and decor of the rooms and halls varies wildly, each individual room seems as if it was constructed by a single civilization or culture. Some of them look very much like the houses giants built, so long ago. But most are built and decorated in one of many completely alien styles. The wall-mounted lanterns are a consistent element, and seem to be one of the main sources of lighting. Some, but not all, of the rooms have windows. The view through the windows does not at all imply a consistent relationship between the interior and exterior. Through those windows Gelek can see various outdoor spaces, most of which seem to be large gardens full of foliage, fully enclosed by a building. One of these spaces appears to have enormous trees, much taller than Gelek.

If he ransacks the cabinets of all the kitchens he comes across, he can find some alcohol before too long, but he doesn't run into anyone else. He does find doors leading to some of the seemingly-outdoor spaces. There aren't any traps, of course.

He will not notice the noneuclidian geometry so much as immediately get irrevocably lost. 

He will most certainly ransack any kitchens he finds, and probably leave them in disarray and disaster unintentionally, as unused as he is to not destroying buildings he interacts with. He is quite happy to have something to take the edge off, even if the edge isn't as bad as it could be. 

He is going to leave the gardens be, for the most part, they feel untrustworthy, but if he can see one he'd like to grab an appropriately sized branch or trunk to use as a crude quarterstaff and walking stick. 

There aren't really any trunks or large branches lying on the ground, but he can find a straight tree of the right size to uproot easily enough. (Finding a tree branch of the right size that's mostly straight will take more time.)

He'll uproot a tree, if there's one which looks like it won't be missed. This is usually how he gets his clubs and staffs. 

He has no way of telling if any of the trees will or won't be missed, but he doesn't see anyone in the vicinity to object.

Gelek now has one (1) tree, branches and roots included.

He'll spend a few hours trimming off whatever branches and roots are preventing it from functioning effectively as a walking stick, and then he will return to ambling and drinking. 

Is he still avoiding the exterior spaces? How drunk is he going to get?

He will keep avoiding them, why not.

How drunk can he get, before he runs into a person or feels the need to go back to sleep or address some other bodily function? It's been a while since he has had a chance to find out. 

He doesn't run into anyone else.

He does, after several hours, see a door, painted bright crimson red.

He doesn't trust the Hearthkeeper. But he's not the sort of person who dies at the beginning of a fairy tale, either. He'll take this chance to have a nap, though, in the vicinity of a thing which might give him a chance to escape her power, if he feels he needs that. 

When he wakes up, the door is still there, and he has a nasty hangover.

He can't remember what you have to do about hangovers, so he's going to sulk for a bit instead.