In the Salquedor Grasslands stands a great and ancient tower, ruined and broken it still stands high. Darkness has settled over the lands and the moon and stars are hidden behind thick storm clouds. but they are not for rain, their winds blow fiercley in any direction they choose, whistling and scraming as they pass around the trees and the tower. The night is blackened and the land around the tower is dead and rough, leaving very little room to grow. No creatures dare go near the tower except for some durable and dangerous insects.

A dark figure makes it's way across the rocky terrain, taking each step likley. It holds a sword on it's back which repeatedly taps it, rattling slightly in it's sheath. The figure is too heavily cloaked to see it in the darkness, but the mask shows it's identity. It is Jack of Blades, once a mighty hero who would risk himself for another's life, something had happened to him several hundreds of years ago which changed him into a great evil. But the power he once held was stripped by a powerful wizard.

Jack of Blades comes to the enterance of the Ancient Tower and looks over the building, taking long glances at the various holes and crumbling window sills. He slowly turns the knob on the door and pushes, but it's jammed. He pushes again, this time with more effort and throws the door open, slamming it on the wall beside it. Dust flies throughout the enterance along with the long and hollow echo of the empty tower.

Jack of Blades had not been here in many years. He was older than the tower itself, but not by much. His dark orange eyes looked around. To his left on a small table was a sort of match. He picked it up and lit it, lighting one of the torches that hung on the wall. It was connected to others that hung on the wall and as a result the all lit up in a line down the hallway, illuminating his oath through the ancient tower.

Sargtlin Olath had left Lómëdor recently, deciding instead to spend his time out in the Salquedor Grasslands and wander through them as he trained with his icy sword. His black leather cloak flew gently in the wind of the night. His cloaks hood was over his head to keep himself unseen, his ebony skin acting as camouflage in the night, but his white hair would be an easy beacon to others as to his location, which he did not like. The wind brought light chill of the night to his flesh as he walked over the empty grasslands, looking for a particular building in the grasslands.

"So, how long will it take me to find the tower again? It has been a little while since my last visit." he thought as his elven boots trudged along the ground. His progress was not rapid, but he had plenty of time. He enjoyed the night and preferred to travel in it than in the blazing heat of the sun, though he was much more accustomed to it than most Drow were, for he had spent several decades out in the sunlight.

As he slowly made his way up a long grassy hill, his eyes saw the great form of the ancient tower. It was an impressive sight to see, though it was a rather out of place sight. The empty Salquedor Grasslands had only a few structures in it, and none like the ancient tower, a large pillar of stone that even though it is in poor appearance, it is still very strong. His blue eyes wandered up to the sight before he smiled, remembered his last time there. His last encounter at that tower had been dangerous, nearly resulting in the extinguishing of his life. With that thought in the back of his head, prodding him as he got closer, warning him of the possible danger that he could be placing himself in, he continued onward to the tower. He had decided to train near there and to perchance even investigate the ancient tower.

As he got within easy sight distance, made easier with his keen Drow eyes, he gazed at the stonework of the massive structure, wondering how even in such bad shape visually that it stood still strong, wondering if it were even due to some sorcery by whomever built it. As his eyes slowly worked along the outside of the building, he was slightly surprised to see the door opened.
"Oh? Who opened it?" he thought as he continued closer, then with an evil smirk he spoke a mental response aloud, "We shall find out, that is if they are still there." After those words, he quickly made his way to be up against the cold rock wall, sliding his way towards the open door way. He rushed through the doorway, his hands ready to defend himself if need be.
"Who's here?" he shouted into the room.

Jack of Blades could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind him. "Who's here?" A rather loud voice echoed. For the moment it disinterested Jack and he made his way up a dark and dusty stairway. If whatever man was there intended to follow him then there may be a confrontation, but for now Jack had more pressing issues. Several windows dotted the walls around the stairs, letting a peek of the blackness outside be allowed, but Jack could care less. He had come here for a specific thing, something he had hidden here many years ago.

When he reached the required floor he opened a crimson red door into a dark room that was untouched by light. He entered and took a looka round before quietly shutting the door behind him. To him the room seemed to glow a variety of colors, but to anybody with normal eyes it was just blackness. He walked near a bookcase and ran his gloved hands across the hard back feel of each and every book as he made his way to a hidden hallway and stepped through, knocking cobwebs out of his way.

The stone walls on eaither side of him were not only covered with dust, bit a small variety of spiders. A small light seemed to come from the end of the dark and stale hallway from a lighter room with small space. In the middle of it stood a stone pedastel that once held a book of spells. It had apparently been stolen and this awakened a small rage within Jack of Blades as he kicked the stone pedastel over, breaking it in half. So far this journey was a waste.

As Sargtlin inquired into the room, waiting for response, he stepped inside. The room was, to his surprise, well lit as apparently someone had recently lit the torches that filled the room and hallway. He took a step forward as dust continued to settle onto the stone floor. As he walked in he heard footsteps, and looking around he saw a flight of stone stairs. He knew that someone was in the tower.
"This just might be worth the effort to investigate." he thought to himself as he slowly followed the footsteps up the long, dark stone stairway.

As he walked up the aged and dusty flight of stairs, he noticed windows along the outside of the ascending path, allowing a view of the dark grasslands outside of the ancient tower. As his feet slowly made their way up the dusty, old stairs, he wondered who it was that was in the tower, and what their intention was. He wondered if they were afraid of him and were trying to run from him.
"Are they perchance a criminal? Or a coward? Well, whatever this being is, I plan to see." he thought as he came to the top of the staircase.

At the top of the staircase was a crimson colored doorway. When he reached it, he slowly prepared to open the door, wondering what would be inside when he opened the blood colored door.
"Odd, I haven't seen many people who design part of their structures in the color of blood." he thought as he prepared to open the door, the door that he assumed would tell him who it was entered the tower shortly before him.
"And so, I shall find out who it is who is here other than me." he thought. With that last thought ringing through his mind, he slammed the door open.
"Greetings. Perchance you care to stay for a while?" he said as he broke into the room

Jack of Blades heard the echo of the crimson door slamming against the stone wall that stood beside it. Apparently the being that had entered after him was searching for Jack. "Greetings. Perchance you care to stay for a while?" a voice came through the black hallway that led to AJck's current position. Whomever had intruded was apparently a bit overzealous and possibly cocky. But if one was foolish enough to come to the tower at this time, than they may be of some use. Jack of Blades turned from the fallen pedastel and made his way down the pitch black hallway.

He continued until he could see a being standing with a sword. Apparently the man was a drow. Even in this darkness Jack of Blades could tell the ears and the dark skin, not to mention the air of darkness and evil. "Who are you to barge into a place such as this?" Jack of Blades' voice echoed sharply, piercing his ears. He needed to truly test to see the attitude of this being, obviousley he was a warrior and a killer, the stench of blood and death hung around the drow in intimidation, but it did not affect Jack very much.

"What would a Drow being doing here? Care to elaborate your reason for coming here on this night of shadow?" He felt obligated to ask since this was now a sort of guest in the tower. Jack of Blades looked the drow over in intrigue, most definatley more than just a warrior of evil, he didn't seem like one to take an order from another being. For some reason the drown seemed slightly familiar, possibly because Jack of Blades had commanded several dark elves in the past to lay waste to elven cities.

Sargtlin found himself in a long, dark hallway. He had a much easier time seeing in the black hallway, due to his Drow eyes, and glanced through the dark.
"No one here?" he thought to himself, but then he heard footsteps coming towards him slowly.
"So, there is someone here? The question is, who or what?" he thought, drawing his sword, Erthetril. The cold blade of the ice sword waited, longing to cut into the flesh of a being, but for now Sargtlin waited. He eventually saw the owner of the footsteps in the darkness, though he could not perceive very much about the figure. The figure's voice cut through the darkness as it spoke to Sargtlin.

"Who are you to barge into a place such as this? What would a Drow being doing here? Care to elaborate your reason for coming here on this night of shadow?"

"What reason am I here you ask? Well, I could ask the same of you, however I will answer your question. I am here simply out of curiosity and interest, for very few come into this ancient tower. Now, what are your reasons for being here, might I ask?" said Sargtlin, wondering what kind of answer he would get from this person. He did not expect a warm, pleasant response, but instead a rather frustrated response and perchance even an attack, which is why he kept his sword in his hand. Sargtlin was still wondering what reason this person had for coming into the ancient tower that they stood in.
"He seems to have reasons that he wants to stay hidden, but what are they?" he thought, keeping himself ready to defend himself if needed to.

((OOC: Sorry about the short length.))