The Tower

The Tower


The story continues. It started yesterday.

As he reached the gate, Scrobe saw an old weathered sign. It read

Touch this gate and enter
But beware
Those that enter must

There was more, but the ending seemed to have been lost to time and the elements. It said no more...

There was no hesitation. Scrobe touched the gate and with the screaming sound of metal hinges that have not seen use for many ages, the gate swung open. It was harshly cold and the wind was fierce. Snow was falling so heavily that he could hardly see more than a few feet. The fire he had seen through the gate burned brightly a few feet away and Scrobe walked quickly to it to to warm his already frozen hands. The instant his hands felt warm, the fire disappeared. As did the howling wind and driving snow. He didn't understand but was grateful. It was still cold but only slightly so.

He looked around. His surroundings were completely strange to him. This place was neither friendly nor welcoming. Neither scary nor safe. He felt very little. Things seemed somehow muted. The colours, the sounds.. all seemed almost to come from far away.

He saw that he was in a small courtyard and looking around, he saw an exit. He walk towards it and looked through. The only thing he could really see was a broken old tower. It looked as if it had been left to ruin many, many years ago. There was writing on the exit post. It read

Your journey begins... Find the Wise One.

It seemed there was a path, so he followed it and headed for the only thing he could see, the old ruins.