Mitsuhide slowly emerged from the raging sandstorm towards the tower with nothing but a tattered, worn-out cloak to protect him. He had traveled all this way, not to see the tower, but to hone his mind's eye. He had not opened his eyes once since he started his journal, the spell that was cast would see to that. And not until he reached the top of the tower would the spell be broken. He had asked for this fate, afterall. To be blind to hone his warrior instincts. He had travelled a great distance and was tired, but knew that his spirit wouldn't allow him to give up, even if his body felt it could no longer go on. It was about that time in his thoughts that he had sensed another aura. "He must have come to the tower as well...."
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