Sunlight splashed across the light blue sky as the sun rose from beyond the horizon. It spilled into the eyes of a slumped over figure. Groaning, the armored figure slowly opened his eyes. Not much could be seen of this figure other than his pale plate armor. While strong the armor had clearly seen some use and had also weathered due to time. The visor on his armet helmet was up, covering his face leaving a slit of darkness amongst pale metal.

Across his belt was an empty quiver and a couple pouches and daggers. His eyes were closed against the sunlight as he felt weak and was content to stay where he was. Sighing he slumped back even further into the stone wall which he leaned against. He remained there for a time, the sun heating up his armor, his eyes closed, his gauntleted fingers roaming over the stone surface below him. Then as the sun passed overhead, he willed his eyes open, the sun no longer shining in them.

He soon realized that he was on the edge of a tower. His brown leather boots were just at the edge and he was leaned back up against the wall of the tower. The ledge he was sitting on wrapped around the tower. His breath caught as he realized the situation he was in. His legs extended, the leather boots skidding against the ground kicking up stone dust which lightly drifted away in the slight breeze. Carefully he slowly began to stand keeping as close to the wall as possible. Straightening out he stood to his full height. His gaze wandered further out and away from the tower.

Gray stone buildings stretched as far as the eye could see. Each building was finely made with brilliant arches and fine architecture. Many buildings had gardens at the top of them. Hanging from garden boxes were strands of ivy that had grown out of control and now wrapped around archways and down the sides of buildings. He was very high up, so the exact details were unclear, but it was obvious that wherever he was, was not in good shape anymore. Many of the buildings were corroded or slumped over, rubble spilled across the streets. Some of the roofs of the buildings that were made with shingles had collapsed. Opposite him was another tower, twin to the one he stood on, far in the distance. To his left a ominous castle rose in the distance, stone black as night.

Uneasy by the sight the figure slowly sat back down. He tried to think, how did he get here? Where was he? Who was he? Nothing came to mind. It was so strange to not know anything about yourself. His gut wrenched as he realized just how high he was when he looked back out over the city. Feeling a little nauseous he went back to the wall and collected himself. Then once again he stood ever so slowly and carefully. He pushed lightly against the stone wall next to him. It seemed stable enough. So, he used it to support himself and begin inching his way along the ledge.

He inched forward when his boot hit something. A longbow that he hadn’t seen before was suddenly sent skittering forward and over the edge. He watched it slip away before disappearing under the lip of the edge where he dared not walk to see what had happened to it. His focus snapped back onto where he was walking as the edges were crumbling. Then he came up to an obstacle.

Before him was a small part where the stone had crumbled away leaving a two-foot-wide gap between himself and the other part of the ledge. Slowly he approached before simply stepping over it, looking down as he did. The tower was very high up indeed as he felt his stomach drop when looking down from so high. The wall of the tower he had seen looked stable which eased his heart. Yet there was a wave of roots that flowed up the sides of the tower, reaching from what seemed the base all the way to the top. Now on the other side he inched his way around the curvature of the tower once again.

Then finally he saw an entrance to the tower. It was a massive window of stained glass. As he moved across the massive area of stained glass, he was briefly blinded by the sun reflecting off the brilliant blues, reds and greens on the stained glass. His hands slide over the glass, feeling for any sort of latch for an entrance. He knocked against the glass with his gauntlet. There was no response from the other side. He squinted through the sunlight and shifted further along the edge. Then he saw it, a small, rusted latch in the stained glass. His fingers played with the latch, but he soon realized it was locked from the other side.

Huffing in agitation he pulled out one of the daggers on his belt. He chipped at the rusty lock and began trying to pry underneath it with his dagger. Yet the lock seemed much sturdier than it seemed and working with the dagger was getting him nowhere. He took a second and looked around him. There was the ever-present danger of a fall behind him, in front of him was a stained-glass window and to the sides of him were unexplored territory. Above him though, what was above him? He looked up and saw that the window reached up and up till it finally came to a stop. As he looked up, he realized that this was one of a smaller set of three stained glass windows. A bigger one next to it and next to that one he assumed there was another. From this area it was impossible to tell due to the curvature of the tower.

Then he noticed the roots from earlier, growing on the stone between the glass windows and going up towards the top of the tower. He did not have any other towers for reference of what could be up there. Before he was going to try that though, he was going to try and get through this window. He slammed his fist against the latch first, trying to smash it out of place, yet it remained strangely resilient. Then he tried prying it off with his fingers, once again there was no progress.

Finally, he decided to try and smash the glass itself. He prepared for the impact of glass falling from the massive window and threw a right cross that smashed into the window-gate. His fist struck and then slipped across the surface with a resounding thud and a scratch of steel against glass, sending him off balance. He slipped, and immediately a spike of panic ran through his heart. His left foot slipped off the edge behind him while his right knee slammed into the stone. He grabbed the latch and stabilized himself with his other hand. Slowly he let out a breath of relief. He remained very still, taking solace in the fact that he had not slipped off the edge and fallen to his death.

Then he froze as he heard a click. The latch clicked before the stained-glass hatch swung open. Standing in the doorway was a disgruntled looking man. “Who is disturbing my peace and quiet?” The man wore chainmail over a layer of black gambeson. He wore plate greaves over black leather boots. His face was sunken in, and there were clear bags under his brown eyes. He had black, straight hair that stopped just before his shoulders. It was parted to the left but seemed to be falling back over to the front of his face.

His eyes locked onto the knight. He huffed in displeasure. “Where did you come from?” Then he waved it off with a hand covered in a black leather glove. “Whatever come in. Don’t make too much noise.” The man walked away into the building. Gratefully the knight climbed through the hatch before shutting it behind him. Then he looked around the interior of the tower.

The inside of the tower was covered with winding roots that crawled up the spacious room. It was dark inside of the tower. The only light came from sunlight spilling in through the stained-glass windows and a few fluorescent mushrooms that gave off a dim green glow. The stone was worn and barely visible through the mass of roots growing over the floor. Around the room in perfect intervals the roots had grown into circles with a space. It looked like the frame of a circular door.

“My name is Banour.” The man with chainmail said as he sat down on a fallen piece of stone. “You can stay here as long as you don’t make too much noise.” Banour’s hand loosely closed over the hilt of a chipped longsword which leaned against the fallen pillar he sat on.

The nameless knight looked around the area. There didn’t appear to be any sort of exit to the area. Without direction he sat down on a root. He stared at Banour unsure of what to ask him. They both sat there, unspeaking. The air was cool in this area which differed from the temperature outside of the tower.

“What is your name? I might as well ask since you keep staring at me.” Banour shifted his feet knocking a piece of rubble across the floor.

“I… don’t know.” The nameless armor’s voice was rough as if he hadn’t spoken in years. He looked unsure of himself and wary of everything. He felt a deep sense of longing for something but didn’t understand why or for what.

“That’s common around here, don’t worry too much. For now, I’ll call you… Ragh. You are dressed like a rag, so it seems fitting.” Banour kicked back and laid down on the pillar. “I don’t feel like talking that much so I'll limit you to three questions. After that you are free to do whatever you want besides bother me.”

Ragh pondered for a moment. If he only had a few questions he had to choose carefully. There were so many things he wanted to ask about his situation but he was so limited. Then he began to speak.

“What is this place?” Ragh’s armor shuffled as he glanced around the overgrown room. The feeling in this room was strange, almost otherworldly.

“This is Worldroot Sanctuary, the safest place in this damned hell hole. Everything here is enchanted to be nearly unbreakable, though age and something else proved otherwise.” Banour said.

“Why is everything here ruined?”

“You must have been hit pretty hard if you don’t remember even the most basic details. Whatever, it's not a problem for me.” Banour shrugged, his chipped blade held lazily in his left hand. “To make a long story short, the city has been sacked by demons and there is no hope to fight against them.¨

“How do I leave this place?” Ragh asked. He didn't want to stay here if there were demons about, and he wanted to find out who he was.

“You want to leave after what I told you? It's safe here.” Banour’s eyebrow quirked and he shrugged. “Well you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He tossed a silver ring toward Ragh. The item landed in Ragh’s palm. He looked over it finding out that it was a keyring. There were four keys on the keyring. Each key was made of the same kind of silvery metal as the ring itself. “That is a keyring that opens the portals scattered around the room. Only one is charged so if you want to use the other portals you will have to charge the keys with divinity.”

“Divinity??” Ragh’s voice fell on deaf ears as the man started to completely ignore him. He looked down at the key ring in his hands. There was so much he didn’t know, he had to find out who he was and what happened here. He stood from the stone and looked around the sanctuary.

There was not much to find in the sanctuary. He wanted something to defend himself when he left. Without a weapon he would be vulnerable to whatever the demons Banour talked about were. Yet there was nothing that seemed suitable. He remembered the longbow he had kicked off the edge on accident and cursed silently to himself. His eyes wandered over to Banour who was playing with the chipped longsword. His face was etched into a permanent scowl, his eyes drooping, his eyes wandering across the worn blade. It didn’t seem that he would be much help.

Ragh wandered over to where the circles of roots were. He supposed they were the portals that Banour was talking about. Along the rim were runes that were etched into the wood. They were completely dormant and dull. He held up a key to the portal, but nothing happened. He wandered to the other portals, holding up the key to the next one. Once again nothing happened. Then on the last of five portals a reaction occurred.

As Ragh held the key towards the portal blue light began to spread through previously unseen lines in the key. Then with flickering energy the runes along the edge of the portal began to ignite. Like flame crawling up the sides of the portal the runes began to light up. Then as if the portal was heaving with effort, a sheen of light covered the space in the portal. Like a plane of opaque blue water hung sideways it was strange to look at.

“Gone so soon? Well, not my problem.” Banour’s voice echoed across the chamber. Ragh ignored the mocking call and instead focused on the portal.

He reached towards the portal entrance and felt his gauntlet disappear into the portal. He brought it back out and upon seeing it was unharmed, gathered himself.

“You don’t even have a weapon, what hope do you have of surviving out there?” Banor sat up from his place on the pillar, eyes lazily wandering over to the knight.

“I have some things to figure out.” Ragh steeled himself against the sense of doubt he had; he closed his eyes and reached forward, pushing through the portal.