At the base of the now broken Lonely Tower, a trio of soldiers kept vigil. In contrast to the dark wooden doors, their brilliant plate mail sparkled. The way they loomed there like empty sets of armor was unsettling. Hope almost wanted them to start a conversation or move about to show they weren't just metal. They stayed immobile, giving her the impression that they would not assist them.
They did, though. Those metallic golems moved, snatching the stretcher handles from her weary hands. Hope followed them, her attention fixed on Drake until they arrived at the palace's entrance. She couldn't help but worry if anybody would be able to heal that gruesome wound he had. She couldn't even stop the bleeding, and he looked even paler than ever.