Waelweold. The Tower of Tears.

Deep within the darkest dwellings of Waelweold two figures made their way even deeper into its depths.
Carrying a torch a man followed the barely illuminated stone path, walking behind a slow hunched form that not so much as walked as had to propel himself forwards forcing his feet to keep up with the clacking cane.
He was a miserable looking creature the man thought, though ‘the cripple’ bore a strange glint of delirious malice in his eyes making almost looking content with his lot in life.
Well rather the cripple than himself. He would not last long in these dark desolate depths in the under layers of the Tower. 
God knew what the Tahjai actually did down here.
Rumours spoke of torture chambers and sacrificial tombs. Dark magic ancient and dangerous…
He chased his thoughts away as he regarded the man in front of him.
He had been half man, half…machine. Strange twisted bionic limbs mixed with wood and undoubtedly magic.
His bald head sported a few stray dark hairs that he had attempted to comb over whilst his broken jaw seemed to be held in place by nails and bolts and his artificial nose was strapped on with clasps.
“I know what you’re looking at Son of Avitus, but I have no need for your sorries. As far as I am concerned I am very well taken care of by the masters. ‘They see me’. Unlike you lot up there. True they did try some of their experiments out on me…but for my years of faithful service I was granted the ability to walk again. Something no other ‘healer’ would be able to give me. So I serve the Masters as is proper. As will all one day.” The man started as he stopped and turned around to face the young man. The smile grew ever more malicious and disturbing. Like a predator lying in wait.
“Can you tell me what happened to my father?” He asked as the two continued on the path again.
“Well, I wasn’t there personally, but I have it from those that went out there to ‘collect’ him that he was lucky to have had a quick death. They’ve brought him here…so sad really…Teryn Avitus was such a powerful Battle Mage. I remember his first steps amongst the Masters as if it were yesterday…anyway according to the Mardras their charge went ballistic, but that was to be expected with a Rhevendali. You should have seen what she had done with her…She’ll have to stay with the masters for a new pair of hands, I doubt she’ll be able to ever cast another proper spell again, but who knows…”  
The man though relatively young bore scars that showed he was no stranger to battle. He had sparred against his father many times before and knew of his prowess, to be simply killed by some nobody…it was hard to believe.”
“I still can’t believe some pathetic little farm girl killed my father.” The man mumbled as they entered a large wide round room holding stone caskets, some were built into the wall, others were morbidly standing up. On the left side of the room stood a table upon which lay the man in question. The dead Teryn Balbeus Avitus. Master Battle Mage and one of the more prominent members of the Tahjai.
He had been instrumental in the discovery of Dark Fyure and its extraction. Such would be his legacy…he could have been the next Sorcerer King had it not been for that damnable girl.
As he watched his father’s face he felt nothing. 
Maybe it was because they had never been close or maybe him being a disappointment in his father’s eyes always stopped him from seeking a further bond and connection. Now it was too late.
In a crude twist of fate this according to the reports small girl had been his father’s undoing. She succeeded where many a rival mage or enemy did not. It almost made him want to laugh at the whole ordeal cynically.
His obsession became his downfall. 
“So they have no idea where she went?”
The hunched man shrugged. “Not really, but logic would suggest she would run to our enemy…after all the enemy of your enemy could be a potential friend and such like…if she’s clever she’ll jump borders during the invasion…” He eyed the young master carefully. 
Would the young master avenge his father? Such was the norm amongst nobles wasn’t it?
“Belisio…” the young man frowned. 
Obviously avenging his father was needed if he was to save face, after all if you allow your father’s murderer to escape and roam free you’re not worthy of the title of Nobleman.
“What will you do young Teryn?”
Upon the man’s lips slowly crept a murderous smile. 
“I will find her of course and complete my father’s work. I will crush her soul  and throw her broken body down as a feast for the crows. I will claim my vengeance first, before I set my eyes upon a bigger prize.”