Oct 22. The Keep

As the dark tower came in sight, towering high above the roofs of the town's buildings, the sheer malevolence emmanating from the dark stone took Eleanor's breath away. It rose above the huddled hovels like an adder poised to strike. Two black openings high up, peered out at the world. Worn stairs rose from the ground to disappear into a cavernous maw. Built one stone upon another, the square building blotted out the sky, casting a pall over the streets below. Pulling her attention back to her task, she accosted a young lad pushing a cart filled to the brim with logs and asked for directions to the Inn of the Sleeping Rock. Following the surly pointed finger, she threaded her way through a narrow alleyway to find herself facing a half timbered building the colour of faded ochre. She couldn't resist looking up and almost gasped in surprise. The afternoon sun coloured this side of the square tower a warm rosy red. Seven rows of small windows showed the number of floors the building owned. Smoke threaded its way skyward from two chimney's in the roof, speaking of warmth and comfort within. Eleanor was not beguiled by such things, knowing her first impression to be a true one. Evil lived with those walls, an evil she needed to avoid if she wanted to find out who was killing the L'Oleol. In her heart however, she suscepted that the two things were linked. With a great sigh she entered the Inn.