The air was shaking with anticipation and schadenfreude as the draconians gathered around the ominous Tower of Torment.
They eagerly awaited the spectacle of the Bloodburn King emerging in a soulless state, reduced to the shell of the man he once was. It was quite amusing to think that soon, he would be returning to the state he once was in.
The crowd buzzed with excitement, their voices a cacophony of mockery and cruel laughter as they thought about that.
The Tower of Torment itself loomed over the scene like a dark sentinel. Its massive structure, crafted from a stone that was as black as night and that absorbed the light around it, reached toward the sky in a twisted spire.
Sinister lines glowed faintly across its surface, casting eerie shadows on the ground.
The very air around the tower seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, and the towering entrance door promised nothing but despair and madness to those who simply stared at it.
