In the Dark of The Thorn

On only the brightest dawns of summer mornings, the sun’s rays are able to pierce through the small cracks in the weave of the tree canopy of The Thorn and down to the far reaches of the forest. They pierce deeper into the forest than your would expect with what some say as having unusual weight that allows them to do so.

On a summer morning like this, you can see signs of a path leading deeper into the forest through an unremarkable patch of thorny saplings stemming off the main road that leads to the Vampire Mists. What looks on first glance to be a game trail, tells a different story to those who know what to look for.

Small shrubs and saplings line the path of an unbelievably dense dirt floor that has a near stonelike quality about it. While the path looks wide enough for only a single person to walk, it appears to have stood the test of time in the wake of traveling caravans or a parade of elephants or… something else that was far far too heavy to be living in The Thorn. No dirt this compact could have become so overnight, nor in a week or a month under even the weight of something like high traffic on a trade road.

The plants up to about a meter tall surrounding the path look to be more or less untouched. Past that point, on the left, small twigs appear to be snapped off or hang bent, while on the right, a space about the size of a large round watermelon has been carved out of the entire right section abreast of whatever or whoever was walking down the path. The thick branch stubs not singed in the aftermath of a fireball, nor cut by an axe or other sharp edge, but instead looking well worn, dull and rounded, like the bottom of a walking stick or wizard staff that is past its due.

The path continues deep into The Thorn with thick sticks lodged vertically into the ground every 50 meters or so to mark the pathway, as if its timeworn characteristic wasn’t noticeable enough to follow.

After 10 minutes or so of walking, black stone steps leading up to a black stone tower comes into view. On a normal day the tower blends in unassumingly with the darkness of The Thorn, and people often first notice its steps before looking up to see the tower’s imposing presence looming tall amongst the trees, so the top just peaks out over the tree canopy above.

On a summer morning like this, the various minerals and stones making up the tower can be made out from one another. Some pale and cracked, and others with an unusual depth and gravity that looks as though it bleeds from the stone itself, as if its form is collapsing underneath its own weight. As if it was too heavy to be put there by anyone in the first place.

On a summer morning like this, a raucous cacophony can be heard from inside the tower. The clashing sound of Iron on Iron, the smashing sound of Iron on stone, and the crashing of something far far too heavy to be in The Thorn.

Entered by: 0x8cA7…C31B