Calian had heard of this world, but he had never thought to see it. Corvus had a way of surprising him in ways he never had imagined, but truth be told, he didn't even know if where he was going was meant for him. Perhaps it was providence or serendipity that was leading him here, or he could very well be flying to his doom for little more than finding a legendary place to lay his corpse. As he approached, the planet looked to be an orb of indigo purple, the dunes and imperfections of the rocks upon the surface made it have the look of a very expensive cake. 

The Stallion-Class battle transport cut through the atmosphere with the ferocity of a comet. To any soul looking into the deep night sky, it would look like a falling star slicing into the horizon. Calian watched with a hawkish gaze, catching sight of the Ebony Tower. It was sleek in form and robust in style, smaller baroque sectional towers connected via walkways and supports formed a seven pointed star around the greater keep. A road of stone snaked from some unseen origin towards the tower, where it halted just before a precipice that looked bottomless. There was a grim cruelty to its depths, and somehow Calian felt there was more evil than the fall if one were to drop within. Luckily, the road fed into a bridge, though made of wood, stone, or some form of steel he couldn't guess. The structure ended at the 'island' of rock and soil that held the Ebony Tower. 

Calian Dwimmerblade landed in a small, broken alcove out of sight. His ship, as some called it, let out a hiss as it slowly landed on the bleak sand and rock. His transport was small. Barely enough for three people, including the pilot. It accommodated him well enough, he would claim, though truly it was also conveniently all he could afford. The glass of the cockpit lifted up, his body pinioned like the vehicles wings, steel plates sliding into nubs along the main body of the Stallion. 

The Knight smelled the air, his eyes twinkling like stars when he opened them. The air was rank with magic, and yet somehow to his left he felt a void like a bore in the fabric of reality. The gleam of his gaze faded slightly, but it was ever present. Unfortunately, his tricks and galdorcraft would be of no use within the tower, so he could not utilize the majority of his arsenal. Rather, he pressed his hand against the panel just above the wing of his transport, the panel lighting up and opening a compartment for his weapons. He reached for his blade, Galdurkling. It was of Fey origin, one of the Erdenswords of their system, Vanahiem. Even without the runes or glyphs on the blade, it was as keen edged as the day it was forged. Donning his breastplate and powering down his transport, he began his long hike back to the Ebony Tower. 

Calian now walked into full view of the tower, wandering over the stonework, closer and closer. He must seem some minuscule thing in the distance, only visible from the rising glow of the dying sun. His cloak suddenly whipped from a gust, and to him he felt it was the blast of an angered deity daring him to move closer. He clutched the cloak closer, and soon he was at the foot of the bridge. Finally, he dared look up at the Ebony Tower, the structure living up to its name with its foreboding darkstone base and obsidian crystal parapets. Should he announced his presence? Perhaps he needed to say a word of passage or summoning to keep the bridge aloft as he walked? He didn't recall any myths of such a thing, but many knights had fallen for a lack of patience and thought. 

"Ware!" He cried, though he felt his voice die in the wind. Perhaps someone could hear him, but only if they had already been watching, likely. "Hearken to me! Be ye Dark Wizard, Maiden in distress, Dragon, Daemon, or a foul creature of the abyss! Hyperion has called me forth to come here and prove my mettle! Who resides here!?"