Snippet #1994363

A very unusual tingling sensation crept down Rubius' spine. Something, though unknown to him what, was itching him to stay at the tower. A spirit, perhaps, or a soul trying to persuade him. It was probably nothing, his old mind probably just playing tricks on him, but he had decided to stay.

Rubius walked slowly back to his tower. He creeped slowly up the seven steps, opened the large elegant wooden door and entered the tower. Immediately the scent of incense had blasted his nostrils. The smell was soothing, enlightening and inviting. There was also another stench though it could not be pinpointed. Rubius took a deep breath and walked over to a red chair and sat down on it. He didn't bother to close his door; there wasn't a soul for miles anyway.

An unusual feeling lingered in the back of his mind. It was somewhat of a sense, not a feeling. He could sense war. Chaos. Pandemonium. Avion was ripping apart at the seams, literally, and he could feel it. Rubius didn't like it either but what is inevitable is inevitable, and this is something he has came to accept. He could but only await the day the Stormhale Guard clashed with Valtrennian forces.