[center][h1]The Tower of Truths[/h1][/center]
[center][IMG]http://i66.tinypic.com/2s1wx28.jpg[/IMG][/center]

 [h3][color=steelblue]The Tower of Truths...[/color][/h3]...rests on a small island in the center of [color=steelblue]Pelmar's Lake[/color]. The island is barren and rocky, except for a copse of conifer trees obscuring the entrance to the tower. Dark waves lap idly at the stony shore and you can see little ripples of [color=steelblue]Anomic Light[/color] far below the surface, the currents of arcane energy illuminating the depths. A few small sailboats are tied up at the dock. The lake is calm, reflecting the dark clouds overhead. The tower itself is of simple construction, with smooth lines and few adornments. It eclipses even King Alem's castle in height, making for an imposing structure. The architecture seems out of place compared to the other fortifications in the city and you get a sense that it is very old, ancient even.

 The chambers within are well stocked, and well lit. Ample workspace has been supplied. There are entire rooms devoted to storing empty scrolls, quills. Ink. Oh the endless ink. Wells of it. Literal wells of thick black ink pulled up with buckets. A vast library of empty tomes waiting to be filled can be found in the basement. Many branching stairways leading to the various chambers and floors can be found in the main hall. Atop one of these are the dormitories with a dozen small rooms, dimly lit with torches or candles...[hr]

[h3][center]King Alem I[/center][/h3]

[i][indent]There was a rumbling in the halls of the Relnish Keep. King Alem I was dozing quietly on his throne. His snoring was amplified by the vaulted ceilings and empty halls of the once-great throne room of his ancestors. Outside, a warm mist of rain had begun to fall and lightning could be seen streaking across the blackened sky to the north. It was spring, and the rainy season was ending and yet crops were not growing in the Relnish Heartland. Farmers sat idly waiting for something, anything to pop up out of their fields. Many of the farmers had simply gathered their families, packed what few goods they possessed and left for greener pastures. Curled up in his mighty throne, a king slept. 

"My Lord! Another one has arrived!" came a shrill voice from the darkness.

King Alem awoke with a start. "What? Who? Bremen?" croaked the King, still groggy from his afternoon nap. Bremen approached the stone dais, and his aging king. 

"Yes my Lord! Bremen, your steward. Another scholar has arrived, this one from..." Sitting up suddenly, the king waved his arm in dismissal. 

"It doesn't matter where they are from Bremen! Get him to the Tower of Truths now! The work must be completed before....the....end...end comes..." 

Bremen sighed in boredom. "I would my lord, but they won't cross the lake to the tower. They have a fear of water I'm afraid. He is just sitting there on the dock. I'm not sure how long the ferryman will wait I'm..."

The king roared, " Water be damned Bremen! Get him to the tower! TIE HIM IN A SACK if you need to!" The king slumped back in his throne after this outburst, deflated. 

Bremen coughed into his small pale hand nervously. "Yes, of course my lord." 

The king began rubbing his eyes again. "Stop..interrupting my nap Bremen...or...I'll....have you....I'll have...you" The King drifted off into sleep once more. His crown hung crookedly on his head. Tufts of thin grey hair poked out from all direction. Bremen turned and walked out of the throne room without so much as a bow.[/indent][/i]