The tower of Retow

The tower of Retow, nestled as it was, in the only pass leading to the sea; had served many uses in it’s many years. It had once been used as a summer home, for some long forgotten king. A trading post during prosperous years, and an armed outpost in the less prosperous war years. One question that no-one seemed able to answer was who had built it and why. Well, no-one but Elora, (who had built it long before people had travelled this far into the world, as a place to escape from the mortals every now and then.) Elora, however, was not about to share that information; so to the locals the place remained one of mystery and magic, of splendour and suffering.

Elora almost winced as the companions, and their charges, came into view of the tower; for she came upon it in its current incarnation…a lighthouse. It wasn’t that Elora disliked lighthouses, they served a great purpose…it was the neglect that irked her.

“Shadow, lead them settled inside,” Elora ordered Shadowfox. “Sicbur, I’ll need your expert eye on the defences; let me know if any need repairing. I’ll see the stragglers make it to safety.”


It was many hours after Sunset when the ragtag group of refugees were finally ensconced within the tower.

“Good, solid, Dwarven work,” Sicbur had declared after his inspection…to El there was no better praise... “She has withstood much, but she is still sound.”

“I’ve got our guests settled, and set watches for those with military training of any kind; it’ll do them good to get into a routine,” Shadow reported.

“Good work, both of you,” Elora said. They had done their part, at least. She just hoped Nimal could do hers, otherwise the tower would have a new use…that of a tomb.

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