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The rumbling had, in fact, terrified Alessio. But he was very, very stubborn and he had “a plan”.
He’d done this before, or at least something like it. Devils, he was comparing the Castle more and more to the wizard. It was like, having it happen all over again. The same helplessness, same kind of control-freak and the same immortal dread. Only difference was, this time he wasn’t alone in it. Was that a comfort or a curse?
An eldritch, growling rumbles trembles through the ground, knocking stone out of the ceiling. It was coming it was coming it was coming he was going to pay so much. But he wasn’t going to give up now. Until a loud crash nearly knocks him to the ground, breathless. A huge slab of rock slapped the ground inches away from him. That. Was really, really close to killing him.
“Well that was mature.” He retorted, a little pale all the same. It’s going to be a very delicate balancing act to infuriate the Castle enough to make it accept a challenge, but also intrigue it enough it won’t kill him…
“Hey! You think being strong gives you the right to make all the rules, you coward?!” He said, and defiantly leap on the stone that nearly killed him. “Is fear really the only thing you can resort to; you’ve got nothing good to offer and no good qualities in yourself, so you can’t get anyone to do anything for you unless you force them? Is that…satisfying?”

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