Titus moved towards the castle, exuding just enough force energy to shield himself from the acid rain which had ravaged the desolate planet. As he approached the doorway, he brought his head back to look up at the ancient building. Titus focused, trying to straghten himself up, and exude some of his old glory. He only succeeded in making himself appear even more pathetic. Though he did manage to straighten himself up, he still looked just as small. His face was pale, haunted by unseen demons, reflecting a ravaged mind. He wore a close fitting black cloak and tunic, ripped in a number of places to reveal a bright white shirt, in stark contrast to the rest of his apparel.
This was definitely where he was going. He didn't know why, but Titus had felt drawn to this place, felt as though maybe here he could find the solace which so easily eluded him. He didn't know what to expect, or if he would find anything here at all, but he had nothing else to try. Titus walked up to the massive gates, and put all his strength into a few quiet knocks. And then he waited, hoping someone would answer.