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The Tower of Dread

Charming place. A tower in the middle of nowhere that loomed ominously over the surrounding area. A village sat in the very shadow of this Tower of Dread, a Nomis village, with no one even being sure of who built the tower. There were windows but no doors and as Gard stood before it with Balor by his side, he rubbed his chin thinking things over.

"The soul stone could be in there…" Gard walked over to the wall of the tower and took a look. One could climb up them.

"Are we going to climb it?" asked Balor.

"I'll climb it." Gard removed the top of his warrior's uniform and threw it over to Balor. "You stay here, Balor. You are young and it is better that you live to become an adult than to die a child." Balor looked disappointed. He liked to help out and did not like to be ignored. "But because I love you I will bring you up, provided you stay near the window." Gard knelt down and Balor hopped onto his back. "Easy there, lad, I might be strong for my age but I'm still old and old wounds can act up sometimes."

And with that, Gard began the long climb. He could have jumped if the tower had been short enough and there had been anything to grab on to like a ledge so all Gard could do was climb. It was about an hour later when he reached the window.

Upon taking, his shirt back and putting it on Gard wondered why he had not just kept it on. He wasn't wearing armor so it wasn't like he'd have to lose any weight for the climb and besides Balor didn't even weigh that much.

Staying at the window, Balor sat down and closed his eyes. He was going to practice astral projection, pay Brigid a visit since she was probably asleep at the moment and if she wasn't then he could just continue with his practice.

Drawing his sword, Gard left his tomahawk near Balor just incase the boy needed to defend himself. Balor might have been a pacifist but even a pacifist could bluff.

Gard remembered his youth. His childhood had never been easy. Procyon's bloodlust curse had been a problem. Although he had never killed anyone until their grandfather had provoked him for one last fight when an illness had come upon him. Gard had been foolish to call it murder… Procyon had always been rather nice, sometimes envious but some of that had been more of Procyon being the only Evabon in their clan who suffered from a bloodlust curse.