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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 5305729" data-attributes="member: 60965">The craftsmen gather close as the wagon creaks its way up the last few&nbsp; switchbacks to the tower.&nbsp; At your approach, the tower seems to explode&nbsp; in ravens as dozens of them take flight at once, heading inland.At the top of the switchbacks the road continues on straight off into&nbsp; the woods with two roads branching off to the right towards the cliff&nbsp; face where the tower sits.&nbsp; Both roads are covered by a palisade that&nbsp; looks to have been hastily erected, with cast off weapons, supplies,&nbsp; packs, tools, and other things littering the side of the road.&nbsp; Dozens&nbsp; of torches still burn along the palisade and still-wet blood splotches&nbsp; the stakes of the palisade and the dirt of the road.Beyond the far palisade is a small fenced-off pen with two dead horses.&nbsp; The near path leads to the tower itself where the door gapes open and light flickers from the inside.The whole scene is eerily quiet, only the distant crash of waves at the base of the cliff, the rustle of a breeze in the forest, and the fast, nervous breathing of the craftsmen who clutch their improvised weapons about you braking the silence.&nbsp; The salty smell of the sea mixes with the iron smell of blood and the slaughterhouse stench of the dead horses...</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 5305729, member: 60965"] The craftsmen gather close as the wagon creaks its way up the last few switchbacks to the tower. At your approach, the tower seems to explode in ravens as dozens of them take flight at once, heading inland. At the top of the switchbacks the road continues on straight off into the woods with two roads branching off to the right towards the cliff face where the tower sits. Both roads are covered by a palisade that looks to have been hastily erected, with cast off weapons, supplies, packs, tools, and other things littering the side of the road. Dozens of torches still burn along the palisade and still-wet blood splotches the stakes of the palisade and the dirt of the road. Beyond the far palisade is a small fenced-off pen with two dead horses. The near path leads to the tower itself where the door gapes open and light flickers from the inside. The whole scene is eerily quiet, only the distant crash of waves at the base of the cliff, the rustle of a breeze in the forest, and the fast, nervous breathing of the craftsmen who clutch their improvised weapons about you braking the silence. The salty smell of the sea mixes with the iron smell of blood and the slaughterhouse stench of the dead horses... [/QUOTE]

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