On the northern side of the mountain, where dark mist flowed and shrouded everything despite the radiant daystar that sat high in the sky, an obsidian tower stretched out of the blackness and pointed to the heavens. Right beside it stood another tower, one that felt out of place but at the same time looked structurally acceptable to what a tower should be. Where the obsidian one looked like something that had sprouted from hell itself, the one standing in stark contrast next to it looked like it had been crafted by the most ingenious of human hands.
It truly was an irony, that thing.
In the Trammel Tower, Northern stood with Revant, Annette, Raven, Sael, and Vida positioned behind him.
Woods crawled out of Northern's hand like living vines and wrapped themselves around the white hairy beast that laid on the raised platform.
