Sir Orus' Tale

Sir Orus wandered the rocky plains with nothing but his steel. Steel sword, steel shield, steel pauldrons, chestplate, et cetera. His burden was nothing to him, though. He carried it as effortlessly as he carried the paper map that led him to these plains. That might be an exaggeration, but not by much.

Orus' length of silver hair trailed in the bitter wind that grazed the barren land. The dawn was near, and the slate-gray sky began to blush like a chaste maiden. As the fog grew thinner, his goal came into sight: a lonely stone tower that rose from the mountainous land at the very end of the meager trail he walked. It was not an impressive tower, for it stood less than four stories tall, and clearly bore the signs of ages past, but it held an omen to Orus nonetheless.

His quest, bestowed upon him by one of his own people, brought him here. The tower he stared at was rumored to be cursed, as none who enter ever leave. It was a rather widely spread rumor, so how Baron Gilton's daughter came to venture inside was a mystery to him. Regardless, he was here, and he was determined to bring the girl back home.

Approaching the large door of the tower, Orus lifted his gauntleted hand to try a simple knock. He hesitated, though, wondering if that would be wise...