“We still have not found any clues why Volkmarr would be looking for this lighthouse.” Deormund said.
Bodvar turned from the entrance and started towards the staircase. “Let’s search the beacon then, only place we haven’t been.”
The highlander took a step towards the stairs, and the atmosphere in the room showed a sudden and definite change. The heat-haze-like Mist intensified, cloaking the corners of the room in something like fog. Wind kicked up despite there being no windows, and there was a new presence in the room alongside them. A presence that Nora had felt traces of back in the Zedlei.
“How have you gained entrance to this hallowed place?” The voice came from the air around them, vast and angry. “None but the Guardians should ever gain entrance to the Turris.” Now it was coming from the staircase and sounded rougher.
A massive creature sat at the bottom of the staircase, its skin a mesh of dark-gren hide and green scales. Brass-like natural armour covered its chest and shoulders, and a pair of wings sat folded against its back. Hunched over on the ground like a wolf or bear, its regarded them with great white eyes. Two horns like small spears protruded from its head, completing the image of a green dragon looming in front of them.
Nora did not need spirit-seeing to see that this creature was a materialised spirit, and an extremely powerful one at that. Powerful enough to permanently injure even Great Spirits. She bowed, motioning for her companions to do so as well. “Oh Great Spirit, we did not mean to intrude. We believed the Turris to be in danger, so we had to find it. We did not know a spirit such as you guarded it.”
The dragon snorted, breath like a gust of wind washing over her. “Your intentions matter not. You cannot be allowed to leave these hallowed grounds. The other creatures that think they can threaten the crystal will equally fall. So is the command given to me, Adrammalech.” With that, Adrammalech rose up on its hind legs and drew in a great breath.
“This creature begs to differ.” A male voice rang out from the stairway they had come from. Even the Totema paused in its attack to see who would willingly choose to enter a situation like this.
A cloaked form, face hidden inside the hood, had ascended the stairs behind them, standing in a relaxed pose. Throwing the hood back, a male hume was revealed, long dark hair falling around a pale face that bore no helmet. A sharp nose followed by sharp features and eyes that effortlessly conveyed casual cruelty Where the travel-cloak drifted, glimpses of beautiful metal armour could be seen, as well as a hand resting easily on the hilt of a single sword sheathed in a sturdy belt.
“Volkmarr.” Deormund said through gritted teeth. The knight’s spear flew into his hands in an instant.