*****Dale-Garlin*****
Garlin had realized at the start of the voyage that, though he was a skilled swordsman (according to Ethar, at least), he was not a very good sea man. The constant tipping and rocking of the boat had not done much for his stomach, which had already been queasy with worry for his friend Ethar (and still was, to some extent, since he still was slightly worried that Ethar?s leg hadn?t totally recovered). After about three hours on the ship (and one half of those spent leaning over the rail), he had retired to the below-decks area, where he at least couldn't see the boat's rocking. Now, however, with all the commotion outside, he decided to risk one last hour or so on the deck, if just to see what all the commotion was about.
He couldn't believe his eyes. The great white tower rose above the heavens, it seemed. There were at least seven great tiers surrounding the tower (each almost holding it's own city), which, in the tales he had been told as a child of the Great War, had helped to repel Orcish invaders many times. Then, with a shout from the captain, the ship landed.
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