The Fall of Cairn Fussil

Dear Diary,
 
Seems like fate has a cruel sense of humor. Here I am again, without a roof over my head. The events of the last few days have left me feeling strangely adrift, like a ship tossed about in a stormy sea.
 
Two days ago, we had spent the evening in the boisterous confines of The Dull Blade, a haven for Keralon's Hedgeknights and the headquarters of the Long Table. Alistan, Hayley, and Dadroz had been eager to report back and share their experiences.
 
While Alistan and Hayley were each awarded a weighty coin, a symbol of their "mettle," their paths diverged from Dadroz's. Both were whisked away to the basement, beckoned by the promise of joining the ranks of the Long Table. Dadroz, however, received instructions for a separate initiation at a location shrouded in mystery - the mausoleum.
 
Hayley filled me in on her initiation experience after it concluded. A man at a seemingly innocuous table greeted her and Alistan, the coin serving as a key to a door further beyond. Downward they ventured, emerging into a less bustling common room where a dozen knights sat around a long table, an air of casual camaraderie filling the space.
 
After a brief period of introductions, refreshments, and small talk, they were led to meet "Claus." The setting turned decidedly more dramatic as they found themselves facing a colossal gate that opened onto a vast, gothic hall. The chilling air and echoing whispers gave way to a swirling mist that coalesced into a spectral dragon, its roar shaking them to their core.
 
But their courage held. They stood their ground, and the fearsome dragon, after a moment of surprise, transformed into a more amiable entity – Claus. He congratulated them on their bravery and welcomed them as recruits, commending them for not fleeing at the first sign of a spectral dragon! It seems even knights have a sense of humor, albeit a slightly morbid one.
 
Claus explained their living quarters and the inner workings of the Long Table's headquarters, offering them a haven for rest, food, and information. While they could seek lodging here, they still retained the freedom to accept missions from the heralds.
 
Hayley's description was captivating, even if she downplayed it as a simple "hello and welcome." The spectral dragon certainly added a touch of drama to the whole affair! Liliana and Gael and I had eventually spent an hour and a half waiting for their return, worry for our siblings had remained constant in our hearts. So we were very relieved when they returned at last.
 
The weight of exhaustion finally pressed down on us as we emerged from The Dull Blade. With a newfound sense of purpose, we found ourselves drawn back to the familiar warmth of Erna's Wish.
 
Feyris greeted us with an eyebrow raised. Last we had seen him, we had run off to tackle an entire dragonborn army. Alistan launched into a detailed account of our experiences. Gael even strummed his lute in accompaniment, adding a touch of dramatic flair.
 
A small crowd gathered, their initial curiosity morphing into confusion as Alistan's narration stumbled. He backtracked, forgot details, and his enthusiasm seemed to wane with each halting sentence. Liliana, sensing his struggle, took over, but even her recount proved riddled with gaps and inconsistencies. The late hour and sheer exhaustion undoubtedly contributed to their muddled performance.
 
Despite the lack of a clear narrative, the celebration continued. Word of Alistan and Hayley's ascension to the ranks of the Long Table knights spread like wildfire, transforming the tavern into a hub of boisterous revelry. For the night, at least, we could set aside our worries and celebrate the triumphs, however fragmented they might have been.
 
Feyris, our ever-generous host, offered us free room and board for the duration of our stay. This kindness, amidst the uncertainty, was a much-needed reprieve.
 
However, the tranquility of my sleep was shattered in the early hours of the morning. A sudden surge of heat woke me to the sight of a flickering fire elemental hovering at the foot of my bed. Before I could utter a greeting, the elemental dipped its fiery finger, sending a trail of molten letters across the stone floor. It read:
 
Need you back at Cairn Fussil, need assistance, bring your friends, Amarra
 
The message burned into my mind as the elemental vanished. Amarra, my enigmatic mentor, had a well-known habit of utilizing fire elementals. The open window, its lock melted away, further emphasized the urgency of the situation.
 
I roused Hayley and Gael. Hayley, bleary-eyed and understandably grumpy about the early wake-up call, grumbled about the unseemly hour. Gael, however, surprised me as he had been sleeping. He explained that while his meditation skills allowed him to stay alert for extended periods, sleep was not completely out of the picture. “You can live off rations, but a warm meal is always welcome”, he quipped, a sentiment I wholeheartedly agreed with.
 
Making our way to the De la Roost mansion, I found Alistan and Liliana locked in a mock fight in the garden. Hastily explaining Amarra's message, I watched with exasperation as Alistan, in his eagerness, donned his armor (at last!) while leaving his shield behind (again!). Despite him becoming a knight, he still didn’t risk taking out his late brother’s shield. The knightly symbol he was supposed to wear as a badge of honor wouldn't be ready until later.
 
We secured an extra horse from Feyris, upon learning of the urgency. With a heartfelt thanks and a promise to return soon, we embarked on a journey fueled by a mixture of apprehension and determination.
 
The journey back to Cairn Fussil was a blur of urgency. Gone were the leisurely observations of the passing scenery; every beat of our horses' hooves resonated with the gnawing fear in our hearts. The familiar plume of smoke that normally marked the tower from afar was absent, a chilling premonition of what awaited us.
 
Hayley sent her raven companion, Fiachna, ahead to scout. Its shrill cry upon returning confirmed our worst fears. Cairn Fussil was under attack. Two monstrous creatures, described by Fiachna as hulking insects with snapping mandibles, were tearing the very foundation of the tower apart. Hayley's sharp senses and my own knowledge of monstrous creatures identified them as Umber Hulks – fearsome brutes known for their devastating strength and mind-warping gaze.
 
The stench of battle hung heavy in the air as we crested the final hill. The once proud tower bore the scars of the siege. Several columns lay shattered, and gaping holes marred the outer walls.
 
Without hesitation, Gael unleashed a whistling arrow, catching one of the Umber Hulks square in its armored carapace. Liliana, her magic crackling fueled by her connection to the Feywild, charged forward, but her spell went awry, exploding harmlessly in the air. The enraged beast retaliated with a swipe of its massive claws, sending her crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.
 
Alistan, mounted on his loyal steed Thorin, roared a challenge and charged. His blade flashed as he aimed for the hulk, but the creature sidestepped the attack with surprising agility. Hayley's raven swooped down, its touch mending Liliana's wounds and bringing her back into the fight.
 
The second Umber Hulk, its gaze fixated on me, lumbered forward. Steeling my nerves, I locked eyes with the beast, its mind-warping magic washing over me. But I held firm, the power of my will deflecting the effect. A torrent of fire erupted from my fingertips, searing the Umber Hulk's carapace.
 
The battlefield became a chaotic dance of death. Gael peppered the creatures with arrows from afar, while I weaved spells of fire and fortune, turning the tide of battle. Liliana, fueled by fury and Hayley's mystical support, battled with renewed vigor. Alistan, dismounted after Thorin bolted in fear, drew his sword and engaged one of the hulks in a desperate duel.
 
The fight swung back and forth, a desperate struggle for survival. Just as one Umber Hulk fell under Alistan's relentless assault, another brutal swipe sent Liliana crashing to the ground once more. Hayley's swift healing magic brought her back to the fray, but the toll of the battle was evident in her fading strength.
 
With renewed determination, we focused our attacks on the remaining Umber Hulk. Liliana, her movements fueled by rage and guidance from Hayley's magic, landed a blow that tore through the creature's exposed underbelly. My magical missiles rained down, peppering the beast with arcane energy. Just as it lunged for Alistan, Hayley's whispered curse took hold, sending the attack wildly astray. A final barrage of spells from myself sealed the Umber Hulk's fate, its lifeless form crashing to the ground with a resounding crack.
 
Silence descended upon the battlefield, broken only by our ragged breaths and the crackling flames that consumed the nearest Umber Hulk carcass. Relief washed over me, tinged with the bitter aftertaste of loss. Cairn Fussil stood wounded, a testament to the ferocity of the attack. But we had emerged victorious, albeit at a cost.
 
Straightening my aching back, I surveyed the scene. A flicker of anger sparked in my eyes as I noticed the familiar scorch marks on the remnants of my former bedroom. A silent vow escaped my lips – revenge would be served. For now, however, there were more pressing matters at hand.
 
With both Umber Hulks lying still outside, the air reeking of burnt chitin and damp concrete, we raced into the tower. The scene that greeted us sent a fresh wave of despair crashing over me. Cairn Fussil, once a haven of knowledge, was now a shattered shell of its former glory.
 
The ransacking was meticulous and brutal. The laboratory, the heart of Amarra's research, was a mangled mess. Shattered beakers littered the floor, their contents staining the flagstones with a rainbow of strange colours. Scorch marks marred the walls, mute testimony to the destructive power unleashed upon the room. Books from the library, some probably centuries old, lay shredded and scattered – irreplaceable knowledge lost forever.
 
The destruction wasn't confined to possessions. The very structure of the tower had suffered. Shattered support beams hung precariously, threatening a cascade of masonry should they give way. Crumbled stairs led to gaping holes in the floor, testaments to the Umber Hulks' destructive rampage. Even the air itself felt stale and heavy, thick with the dust of destruction.
 
My own heart ached as I surveyed the wreckage of my former bedroom. The familiar desk where I had spent countless hours poring over dusty tomes was now a pile of splintered wood. The charred remnants of my clothes hung limply from a mangled rack. Five years of memories, reduced to ash and splinters. A silent scream welled up within me, a potent mix of anger and grief.
 
Our search for Amarra was frantic in the face of such devastation. Gael's keen eyes found nothing but telltale Umber Hulk tracks leading in and out of the ravaged rooms. Desperation gnawed at me. I felt out with my magic senses trying to find some hint where Amarra had gone. Eventually I came to the teleportation circle nestled off the central chamber. It was in ruins, the intricate patterns inscribed on the stones ripped apart with savage force. No residual magic lingered, suggesting it hadn't been used in the recent attack.
 
But amidst the despair, a flicker of hope emerged. My senses, sharpened by urgency, picked up something else – a faint hum of magic emanating from the vicinity of the basement entrance. Five years ago, before Amarra took me in as her apprentice, I had faced my apprentice test there. The memory sent a shiver down my spine, but also a spark of excitement. The basement entrance, which normally stood unassuming, now seemed curiously blank. A closer inspection revealed a cleverly crafted illusion – the doorway was hidden in plain sight.
 
A sigh of relief escaped my lips. Inside the hidden cellar, we found Amarra. She lay crumpled near a wall, her face pale and drawn. A sense of urgency warred with the need to be cautious. Liliana, ever the healer, rushed forward, her restorative magic flowing into Amarra's weakened form. Soon, a flicker of life returned to the weary woman's eyes.
 
Before she could even rise, I gently urged her to stay put. She needed rest. Her gaze swept over each of us, her brow creasing in concern. "The Umber Hulks... are they...?" she rasped, her voice weak. Reassuring her, Alistan filled her in on the battle, while Hayley, with practiced efficiency, whipped up a restorative soup over an improvised fire. The witchy concoction, bubbling in its cauldron, promised a much-needed boost of strength.
 
The air hung heavy with the aftermath of our victory. Relief mingled with the bitter taste of destruction as we gathered around Amarra, her frail form a beacon of hope amidst the wreckage. Gael's question cut through the tense silence, "Where did the Umber Hulks come from?"
 
Amarra's sigh rasped in the damp air. "They are... connected to the forces that attacked me five years ago," she whispered, her voice barely above a rasp. "A mistake from my past." Her gaze flickered to me, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes. "A past relationship gone wrong," she elaborated, "something you might understand."
 
The weight of her words sank in. A rival mage, a vengeful ex-lover – a chilling echo of my own past resonated within me. "He keeps sending forces after me," she continued, her voice gaining a hint of strength. "He found me again. This time, he wasn't subtle." A flicker of anger sparked in her eyes. "He wants not only to kill me, but to undo everything I've built, everything I stand for."
 
"We can rebuild," I asserted.. But Amarra's sigh extinguished the spark of hope. "No. He won't stop now. He's found me. This tower... it's no longer safe."
 
Her words hung heavy in the air. Abandonment. A bitter pill to swallow, yet a seed of pragmatism bloomed within me. Gael interjected, "Could we try to free the Umber Hulks? Maybe they can help us fight back?"
 
Amarra's response was measured. "Perhaps," she murmured. But it was Alistan who asked the question I was almost too afraid to ask. “Will he come after Luke too?”
 
Amarra looked at me, and explained that while I had been her apprentice (although a very poor one), it is unlikely to be seen as a threat to the rival mage. So three cheers for my less-than-stellar work ethic. Amarra did elaborate that I was a talented mage and that she still expects great things from me if I can remain focused.
 
She held out a worn piece of parchment, a faint magical aura shimmering around it. "This," she explained, "is a one-time teleport scroll. It leads to the heart of Cairn Fussil."
 
My heart pounded with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. "The heart?" I echoed.
 
"The source of its power," she elaborated. "If you can retrieve it, plant it in another tower strong enough to hold it... it could grant control over the elemental energies of Cairn Fussil." Hope flickered in her eyes, a flicker I desperately clung to.
 
But a nagging question clawed at me. "Who is this mage?" I asked, the question hanging heavy in the air. "At least tell me his name…"
 
Amarra's gaze hardened for a brief moment. "No," she said firmly. "This is my fight. And I won't risk dragging you into it." Frustration bubbled within me, but I conceded, understanding the fierce protectiveness in her voice.
 
With a heavy heart, we set about salvaging what we could from the wreckage. Mattresses were dragged down to reinforce the makeshift shelter in the basement. I worked tirelessly, hauling down lab equipment, rescuing unburnt books from the library – a desperate attempt to preserve a fragment of the knowledge held within these walls. Every object brought a pang of familiarity, a reminder of the life that had been so violently disrupted.
 
As I moved through the ruined tower, the precarious state of its structure became painfully apparent. With each gust of wind, a fresh groan echoed through the halls, a chilling reminder that time was running out. Desperate to secure the basement entrance, I summoned my magical servant, hoping to move some of the larger stones to reinforce the structure. But it turns out that it was even weaker than I am.
 
Defeated, I called for help, and together with my friends, we managed to shore up the entrance using brute strength alone. As night fell, the weight of exhaustion settled upon us like a shroud. We settled into an uneasy sleep, guards posted to watch for any further threats.
 
But dawn brought a new shock. Amarra was gone. Gael explained how he noticed her vanish in the dead of night, a shimmer of magic preceding her disappearance. That seemed very typical for Amarra, she isn’t one for tearful goodbyes.
 
The tower, once a proud symbol of arcane might, now resembled a maimed giant, its remaining structure clinging defiantly to existence. But despair wouldn't solve our problems. With a resolute nod, I took charge. Amarra's trust, embodied in the magical circle, weighed heavily on me. Without further delay, I channeled my magic, activating the intricate runes etched onto the parchment. A blinding flash of light enveloped us, and then...
 
We were somewhere else. Gone were the damp stones of the cellar. Instead, the acrid stench of sulfur and the searing heat of molten lava assaulted our senses. A vast cavern bathed in an infernal glow stretched before us. In the center, a pool of molten rock bubbled and churned, casting grotesque shadows on the cavern walls. Within the pool, a glowing red marble shined alluringly. A colossal head, sculpted from obsidian and dripping with molten fire, dominated the far side of the cavern. The sculpted head featured a prominent marble-shaped indentation, an invitation to solve the challenge before us.
 
The air crackled with raw fire magic. Curiosity piqued, we ventured deeper into the cavern. The first discovery was a weathered statue. Etched in front of its base was a pulsating magical circle – a conduit to the plane of fire, I realized. Further exploration led us to an altar adorned with an ancient tome and another intricate circle etched into the stone floor. Eager to unlock the secrets of this place, I devoured the text, only to find it written in Ignan. With a sigh, I thought back to the several times that Amarra had insisted I focus my studies on learning the language of the fire plane, and my own tendency to get distracted. Just as I was about to toss it aside, a single phrase on the cover jumped out at me – "Part 2." Disappointment gnawed at me, but I tucked the book away, in the hope that some more research in a less fiery setting would unlock its secrets.
 
Continuing our search, we stumbled upon a second altar, its weathered surface mirrored the first. And found another tome, its aged leather cover emblazoned with the words "Part 1" in faded letters. As we continued we ended up back at the first chamber where we had teleported into. We had inadvertently walked in a circle. Satisfied that we had mapped out the entire cave, we turned to solving the puzzle before us.
 
Returning to the first altar, I cautiously stepped within the glowing circle, the magical energy swirling around me. For a fleeting moment, the runes flared brightly, but then, just as quickly, they died down. Frustration bubbled within me. Clearly, this wasn't the solution.
 
All eyes turned to the marble, and its clear role in whatever enigmatic puzzle was keeping the Heart of Cairn Fussil safe. With a deep breath, I channeled my magic once more, forming a protective shield against the searing heat radiating from the brazier where it lay. Reaching out, I grasped the glowing orb, the heat searing my magical barrier despite my precautions. Approaching the molten maw of the demon head, I attempted to place the marble within its indentation, but it stubbornly remained inert.
 
Desperate for a solution, I retreated back to the altar where Liliana stood guard. With the magical marble in hand, I stepped into the circle etched before the altar. The moment I crossed the threshold, a wall of fire erupted around me. Panic surged through me, as from within the fiery inferno, grotesque creatures materialized – a fire mephit, a swirling vortex of fire, and a serpentine monstrosity with scales glowing like embers.
 
Liliana rushed quickly to my defense. With a wave of my hand, I unleashed the frigid grasp of fate, a chilling tendril of magic coiling around the mephit, coating it in a layer of frost. Gael too wasted no time, his arrow finding its mark and sending the creature sputtering to the ground. Liliana, her movements a blur of silver and emerald light, danced around the fire snake, her blade a flickering barrier against its venomous fangs. Alistan ran in from the nearby cave and rallied the group, his booming voice urging Gael to continue the attack.
 
The battle raged on, the cavern echoing with the clash of steel and the sizzle of searing flesh. Liliana, her face a mask of determination, ignored the searing blood splattering against her armor as she cleaved the fire snake in two. But even with the immediate threat neutralized, the circle remained active, holding me prisoner.
 
With the marble in my hand and no solution in sight, the burden of responsibility weighed heavily upon me. Thinking outside the box, I hurled the marble across the cavern, its fiery glow illuminating Alistan's resolute face. He mirrored my actions, stepping into the circle near the other altar. The now-familiar sequence of events unfolded - a fiery cage, monstrous spawns, and the desperate struggle for survival.
 
While trapped in my circle, the echoes of battle were my only connection to the unfolding events. The clang of steel, the roar of the fire snake, and the distant cheers offered glimpses into the fight. However, the true entertainment came from an unexpected source. Hayley's biting remark, even though I couldn't quite make it out, sent a wave of amusement through me. The image of her berating the fire snake about its lack of boot-making potential was a welcome distraction from the oppressive heat and the ever-present danger. And it seemed to have worked, as the creatures were defeated once again. But now Alistan was also trapped.
 
The distance between me and the others felt vast, the cavern’s echo catching pieces of conversation. Liliana took the marble from Alistan and marched towards the final circle. By this point, the heat and the tension were getting to all of us. Even Alistan, trapped in his own fiery prison, couldn't resist the urge to break the monotony. He drew his violin from its case and began to play. At first, the mournful melody felt out of place amidst the fiery chaos, but Alistan was turning this desperate challenge into a bizarre performance.
 
As the melody reached a crescendo, Liliana stepped into the final circle. A wall of fire erupted around her, engulfing her form. From my vantage point, I could only hear the sounds of battle – the hiss of flames, the clang of metal, and Liliana's determined battle cries. Alistan's music continued in the background, a strange counterpoint to the violence unfolding within the cave.
 
The minutes stretched into an eternity. Just as worry began to gnaw at me, cheers erupted from the other side of the cavern. The music stopped abruptly, replaced by the sounds of relieved laughter. The circles deactivated, releasing Liliana, Alistan and myself. Liliana emerged, a little worse for wear but with a triumphant grin on her face. She tossed the now-glowing marble to me, its warmth a beacon in the cavern's gloom.
 
With renewed hope, I waded back through the molten rock to the demon head, the searing heat licking at my boots. The marble settled snugly into the indentation on the statue, a satisfying click echoing through the cavern.
 
A hidden chamber materialized before our eyes. With a collective leap of faith, we jumped across the fiery chasm, landing on a ledge overlooking a pool of lava. But our moment of triumph was short-lived. A colossal fire elemental, roused from its slumber, roared in fury, its molten form flickering and twisting with bursts of flame.
 
Alistan stepped forward, his shield raised in defiance. I took refuge behind my companions, the heat radiating from the creature an uncomfortable reminder of our precarious situation. The battle raged on, a desperate dance between mortals and elemental fury. Liliana and Alistan hacked and slashed at the creature, their movements a blur of determined aggression.
 
My frost spell, usually so potent, seemed to have little effect on the flaming behemoth. It was Gael who brought the turning point. With a well-placed arrow, he struck the elemental in a critical spot, eliciting a roar of pain. The enraged creature slammed into Alistan and Liliana, scorching their forms. Instinctively, I channeled my magic, weakening the blow on Alistan. But even with my intervention, flames licked past his shield, igniting Liliana's clothing.
 
Alistan, with the swiftness of a seasoned warrior, used his cloak to smother the flames, his concern for his sister etched onto his face. We continued our assault, slowly but surely wearing down the elemental. Just as victory seemed within reach, the creature surged with renewed power, its fiery form growing larger. The despair in Liliana's eyes as the flames engulfed them both mirrored my own fear.
 
Time became a precious commodity. Desperate to save my friends, I unleashed a bolt of frost, momentarily distracting the elemental. This was my chance. Diving deep into the fabric of fate, I weaved a tapestry of possibilities, searching for the path to victory. A vision flashed before my eyes - Gael's arrow finding its mark, the elemental dissolving into embers. With a surge of will, I nudged reality, forcing us all onto that path.
 
Gael, as if guided by an unseen hand, loosed an arrow that pierced the elemental's core. A deafening roar filled the cavern as the creature collapsed, its fiery form disintegrating into nothingness. Relief washed over me, tinged with a bittersweet pang. Liliana, visibly shaken, slumped to the ground, her clothes singed and her face contorted in pain. My sister sent her raven once again to deliver its healing touch. Liliana sat up, the heat radiating from her body a stark reminder of the inferno we had just faced. A weak smile curved her lips. "I take it back," she croaked, her voice raspy. "Maybe Vivienne's ice palace wasn't so bad after all."
 
The demise of the fire elemental marked a turning point in our perilous journey. As the creature dissolved into embers, a staff clattered to the ground, its red gem pulsing with an otherworldly glow. Drawn by an invisible force, I reached out and grasped it. Power surged through me, a torrent of raw fire magic held captive within the ruby heart of the staff. This, I realized with a jolt of excitement, could be a weapon of immense power in the battles to come.
 
But our quest wasn't over. The heart of Cairn Fussil, the very essence of the fallen tower, still awaited us. A quick glance at the central pool of lava revealed our prize nestled within its fiery depths. The heat radiating from the molten rock was enough to melt steel, yet I knew I had to retrieve it. Drawing upon my reserves of magical energy, I waded into the lava, the heat searing even through my protective enchantments. Reaching out, I grasped the crystal, the coolness of the artifact a stark contrast to the inferno surrounding it. As if responding to my touch, the lava began to cool, solidifying into a harmless black rock. With a triumphant grin, I leaped back to safety, the heart of Cairn Fussil clenched tightly in my hands.
 
A sudden tremor shook the cavern, sending debris raining down from above. A worried glance upward confirmed our fears – the tower, deprived of its essence, was collapsing in on itself. There was no time to waste. We ran up the stairs in the first chamber and emerged in the familiar darkness of the tower's basement, the air thick with dust and the scent of damp earth.
 
With heavy hearts, we exited the ruins through a pre-prepared escape tunnel, blinking into the bright sunlight. Thorin whinnied a greeting, standing patiently beside a pile of the salvaged supplies from the tower. Keralon now beckoned us with the promise of solace and a chance to regroup.
 
The journey back was filled with a quiet contemplation. The weight of the past day hung heavy in the air. The loss of Cairn Fussil was a bitter pill to swallow, but it did feel good to be reunited with my friends from Tarn. As we approached the city gates, a flicker of concern crossed our minds regarding the magical artifacts we now carried. But to our relief, the city guards, having been somehow informed of Hayley and Alistan's recent knighthood, waved us through without a second glance. The weight of the Flameheart Staff, a constant presence in my hand, served as a stark reminder of our recent ordeal.
 
The decision of where to stay, however, presented a new challenge. Alistan offered me a room in his mansion within the Northwall district. The thought of returning to that world of privilege, however, held no appeal for me. The thought of accidentally running into Emily even less so. With a grateful smile, I declined Alistan's offer, instead choosing to return to the warmth and familiarity of the Feyris' tavern. There, I knew I could find at least a sense of solitude and refocus on my studies. The future remains uncertain, but with the heart of Cairn Fussil pulsing with power in my hand, I intend to face it head on.
 
Now, how do you make a wizard tower?