Dawn broke gently over the Ash Hill. A soft golden light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows ahead of three travelers — Karl, Molvar, and Sir Cedric. They walked in near silence, the only sounds accompanying them were the rustling of leaves and the crunch of boots against the dry forest floor.
"How far is it again?" Molvar yawned, rubbing his unruly hair as he dragged his feet. "I don't like places called 'towers'… they usually mean stairs. Lots of them."
Sir Cedric chuckled. "About four days through the Greywood, then we follow the Brann River eastward across the plains. The Knight's Tower sits at the edge of the ancient borderlands. No one really wants to go there… but no one dares to forget it either."
Karl walked silently ahead. The newly donned Gravity Cloak fluttered gently behind him, light as air but heavy with invisible memories.
