Unveiling the Hidden Tower
The journey to the ice desert was as treacherous as the warnings had foretold. Aglovan and his companions pushed forward against the biting cold, their breath forming misty clouds in the frigid air. At last, nestled in a remote cavern, they found the one they sought—a frail woman, her eyes as white as the snow outside, yet filled with an unsettling knowing.
She let out a raspy chuckle upon hearing of Alaris’s magical veil. "That fool always thought himself clever," she muttered. "But I taught him everything he knows." Her words hinted at a history long buried, a connection between master and student now turned to rivalry.
The seer agreed to help, but the ritual would take time—and time was not on their side. No sooner had she begun to draw sigils in the frost than the howls of the Undead echoed across the frozen plains. Alaris’s minions had arrived, drawn to the ancient magics at play.
The battle was fierce, the cold biting as much as the enemy’s steel. But as the last Undead fell, the air around them shifted. The veil hiding Alaris’s tower flickered, and for the first time, Aglovan could see a path forward. With a final incantation, the clairvoyant ensured their vision would not fail again.
But her assistance did not end there. With the battlefield strewn with corpses, she turned to her ancient tomes, whispering arcane words. The fallen had left them scars, but perhaps their sacrifice would strengthen the army yet…
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