It was solid black on the outside. Neither light nor shadow affected it.
The tower had either grown from the earth itself, or been designed by a very mad architect. It twisted in on itself, bent from side to side, tilted and tipped and became altogether crooked - the higher, the worse.
Was it related to the Gate? Huh. The Gate and the Tower. Not exactly creative names. Either way, it appeared to have an opposite effect. The Gate threw paths out. The Tower drew things in.
Then again, maybe I'm overthinking this. There's probably no relation.
Of course, it's useless to just observe and ponder from the outside, especially one so chaotic and featureless.
I must ascend.
Even as I climb the rough sides, I begin to hallucinate. This seems to be its effect, but I see things I never could have imagined alone. These were my fellow climbers. I refuse to describe them; they were indistinct and uniformly horrible.
Next time, I'm taking the stairs.
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