July 23rd, 761, 9:15 AM; Day 128 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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- Now I walk forth to the City of Dread,
East North-East West South-West North do I tread,
Don your cloak and your habit, says the god of the abbot,
I bid you good luck. The Abbot said, watching the remainder of the Menetnashte Expedition saddle their spell-mounts. I doubt we will ever meet again, but know that you are always welcome here.
Behind the Abbot, the other monks who came out to greet you, Ianthe, the Venerable Agatha, Angelos, and even Tharivas, all nodded. Including the elf.
"Thank you." Professor Carter said simply. "If you ever stop by Dementlieu, you have friends."
"Well, let's go."
"The Green Maiden", Sebua
July 27th, 761, 11:09 AM; Day 132 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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- With what are you laden? asks the green maiden,
The name of the oasis was easy enough to discover, for above the spring was a curiously-shaped stone outcropping, covered in tendrils and leaves of the various plants. If you squinted, it looked a bit like a weeping maiden, you had to agree.
"Pleasant enough place." Professor Marchand-Renier admitted grudgingly, kneeling for a moment to run his hand through the cold water of the spring. "Unsurprising that the nomads prefer to keep its existence a secret."
"Trade route monopolization?" Professor Carter asked. He may have been a Mordentish archeologist and Guardian Seeker, but he was a professor. "It's a bit sad, I think. Sebua doesn't need to be the barren wasteland it is. There's water if you know where to look."
Professor Marchand-Renier just snorted in amusement at the very idea of nomads giving up their secrets when Remy ran up to the two professors, looking a few shades paler than was normal even for the youth.
"Professor Marchand-Renier, Professor Carter, everyone, I think I've found something important." Remy gulped nervously. "...Really important."
Professor Marchand-Renier frowned, but made no snide comments. If the 'important' something turned out to be a scorpion, then Remy was likely to be in for a scorcher though. Carter nodded brusquely. "Show us."
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Remy had not been exaggerating.
"I was leaning against the rock-wall when I felt it." Remy explained hurriedly, clearing away a bit of the greenery from the rock-face. "It's... um... a bit like what you told me."
It was a bas-relief, carved into the living rock. Life-sized, it showed a rather amorphous figure, a faceless humanoid with stylized features. In one hand, the figure held a book, though the years had worn away any carvings of a title, if ever there were any. In its other hand, the faceless figure held a wavy-bladed knife.
"Good work Remy." Professor Marchand-Renier said absently, running a finger along the carving.
"One thing's for certain." Carter agreed. "We are not going to be staying the night here."
"The King Silver", Sebua
August 3rd, 761, 6:11 PM; Day 139 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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- You love her and kill her, says the King Silver,
A week later, you arrived at the cliffs of King Silver. Whereas the Green Maiden's oasis was small and hidden, the cliffs were impossible to miss. They were a hundred and eighty feet tall, and stretch onwards for a quarter-mile.
The source of the silver appellation was easy enough to imagine. The cliff was laced throughout with a curious rock formation, giving the appearance of silver veins throughout the dark brown cliff-side. What was unfortunate was the shape of these veins, dozens upon dozens of little circles, giving the cliff the feeling of being pox-marked. Or perhaps of a wall of eyes gazing out.
"You really ought to try and relax sometime, you know." Dieter said, taking the opportunity of the camp stop to sit himself down on a nearby rock.
"This place is dangerous." Sarari said simply. The elf had been tense and wary since the Monastery, her eyes flicking from one member of the Expedition to the other. "This entire Expedition is dangerous. There is no time to 'relax'."
"Sure there is. If you're nervous as a cat all the time, you'll just get tired and start to miss things." Dieter shrugged. "I suppose if you want to be groggy and half-awake when something dangerous does happen, it's up to you. But I'm taking my chances at a rest when I can."
Sarari gave the young Lamordian a slightly confused look. "I had not thought of it that way. Perhaps I shall try to... relax."
"That's a good idea." Dieter grinned. He leaned back and put his pack on the rock like a pillow. "Wake me if anything interesting happens."
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"Interesting." Professor Marchand-Renier murmurred, holding up one of the coins to the light to look at it. Edmund had found a double-handful of the old, silver coins at the foot of the cliff, beside a rather old skeleton dressed in rags.
The coins were inscribed on the face with a jackal-headed figure on a throne, surrounded by old writings, worn away by the centuries. The obverse, however, had something even more interesting. A book, and atop it, a dagger.
"I believe it says these were minted in the reign of Menetnashte, though more than this is difficult to say." Marchand-Renier admitted. "Anything else about the skeleton of interest?"
"There was. I found a few rusted links of chain." Edmund said. "I may be wrong, but I think the poor fellow was chained to the cliff and left to die."
"A place of execution then." Marchand-Renier murmurred. "A thief, perhaps, with the coins left to let him think on his crime's worth. I wonder how many more skeletons we'd find if we dug a little..."
"The Red Serpent", Sebua
August 7th, 761, 1:46 PM; Day 143 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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- You'll soon be my servant, says the red serpent,
A few days later, you found the Red Serpent. It was a canyon gouged deeply into the earth of Sebua, a narrow, winding gorge that curved back and forth much like a sidewinder. The walls of the rock were red, certainly. Carter thought it was do the high-clay content, but somehow looking out across the canyon, you weren't sure that was the case.
Because as the sun hit the tiny stream at the bottom, it sent up a pattern of light across the canyon. It looked not so much red as multicolored, a living rainbow playing out across the canyon walls. There was something enchanting about it, something beautiful and compelling.
"I wish I had my camera gear." Remy said with a sigh, looking over the canyon.
"Daguerrotypes, I think?" Dieter asked. He was a farm boy, but he was a Lamordian. "Heard about them. Zherisian I think?"
"University paid for a full set of equipment out of Paridon." Remy agreed. "Main reason Professor Marchand-Renier chose me for this is because I can actually take exposures."
"And now that you actually have stuff to photograph, you don't have a camera." Dieter commiserated. "Sorry Remy."
"It's alright. Still, I wish I could at least go down and take a look." Remy said quietly.
"You don't." From a few feet away, Edmund continued sketching the canyon in his little book, in between images of the Anubite. The Mordentish guard apparently had better eyes than either of the two youths beside him, for he raised his pencil and pointed down the canyon. "You really don't."
In the distance, Remy and Dieter could see a black figure standing in the middle of the canyon, the little stream lapping around its feet. It didn't move, a statue of some sort, but the two young men could see the figure with its arms raised high, and possibly something held in each of its hands.
"Oh." Remy said. "You're right. I don't."
"The Great Faceless Beast", Har'Akir
August 12th, 761, 12:06 PM; Day 148 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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- Come forth to our feast, says the great faceless beast,
"Correct me if I am wrong, but I do believe Mr. Hazel's writings are becoming rather less abstract." Professor Marchand-Renier noted, looking at the little booklet the Abbot had given them with an air of considerable dubiousness. "At any rate, are we all agreed this is the 'Great Faceless Beast'?"
It was... a little hard to argue otherwise. Here in the desert between Sebua and Har'Akir, was a massive border marker. The larger was that of a seated sphinx, a creature with the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and... well, the head was a little trickier to determine. It stood some three times the size of a man at the shoulder, and its head was hunched forward, as if it was curiously looking at the second statue, a strangely cat-like gesture.
The head, of course, was markedly disturbing to look upon. A flat oval of sandstone, the head wore the headress of a pharoah... except it had no eyes, no mouth, no tongue or ears or nose. It did have beard, for a given value of beard. Three slender, sinuous tentacles extended from the bottom of the head, curling around each other in a way that was eerily lifelike.
The creature was looking (or appeared to be looking) at a second statue. This one was familiar, and yet not exactly. It was one of the Statues of Beyrath, showing the featureless, genderless stone figure of black marble. This figure, though, was holding up the Book and Knife as an offerring, of sorts, to the faceless beast.
Even from several hundred feet away, you could feel the raw malevolence of the two statues, the feeling of something evil, and not really understandeable. No one was terribly interested in approaching closer.
"I think the sphinx statue was painted back in the day." Carter murmurred. "Getting that much black marble would've been tricky. And why?"
"Good question." Professor Marchand-Renier agreed. "Now, I realize I am not in charge of day-to-day affairs, but would anyone take it amiss if I propose we depart this place post-haste?"
It was generally agreed to be a wise idea.
"The Shadowy Mass", Kamarn-Quse, Har'Akir
August 18th, 761, 12:06 PM; Day 154 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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- Now come to the pass, says the shadowy mass,
And bring me a book to read in my bed,
And bring me a dagger to clear out my head,
To write and to weep until every man's dead.
"Thing this is it?" Dieter asked, looking out at the cliff-face.
"See any other shadowy masses in the area?" Professor Marchand-Renier said drily. "Regardless, it fits the map and Kuzan's navigation spells led us here. Useful spells, those."
The cliffs were low, but they weren't what you were looking at. About fifteen feet above ground level was a huge hole in the cliff face. An irregular hole in the cliff, its interior was shrouded in shadows, giving it the appearance of such a 'shadowy mass', certainly.
"A cavern." Professor Carter said. "It makes sense. How else would you hide an entire city? Even in a desert?"
"This isn't exactly subtle and unobtrusive." Professor Marchand-Renier pointed out. "While I grant you most sane people don't go crawling into random caves they find in the desert, I highly doubt we're the first pack of lunatics crawling across Har'Akir."
"I'm not sure... perhaps it's usually covered by sand?" Carter ventured. "Or else there may be some kind of illusion involved that doesn't apply to us due to Kuzan's unusual markings?"
Professor Marchand-Renier didn't even dignify that speculation with a response. Instead, he said, "Well, we'd best get on with it. Someone get some rope, perhaps?"
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A short while later, you managed to crawl up the cliff to the caverns, and entered. The cave was more of a tunnel, in truth, a large burrow that wandered back and forth, leading you ever lower underground. It was a quarter hour and a half a thousand feet below that you entered the main cavern chamber.
It was... unique. Even amongst the impressive sights of the Expedition to date, Kamarn-Quse took the cake. Situated in a vast cavern a mile across and several hundred feet tall, the city itself was something chilling to look upon. Encircled by walls of white marble with green-black veins, it was the city of your vision back in the Jackal's Ruse.
Huge, cyclopean walls coiled around the city in an oval. Massive gates of rusted iron prevented entry, but from your position you could look over the entire city. It looked like something otherworldly, a constructed city without a single right angle outside of a few market squares. Streets meandered in strange directions, while the city blocks were almost single buildings, four or five stories tall, and interconnected on the upper levels by bridges over the street level.
Most everything in the city was built from an odd-looking granite, a grey stone with a slight, sickly-green cast and speckled by bits of pure black crystal. Here and there public buildings were sheathed in marble, white, and green, and black.
Wide, clean thoroughfares stretched from the gate closest to you down the length of the city, flanked by obelisks and sphinxes of black stone, and interspersed with city squares that once bustled with life, but now were empty. Luxurious manors were located from place to place, and spiraling towers reached up to the sky, graceful and alien in their beauty.
Far ahead, the Temple of Anuberith graced the skyline of the city. It was massive, fortress-like, a huge block of black stone that loomed over the entirety of the city, a single obelisk in front of it. The Temple towered, higher than any building you had ever seen. Twenty, thirty stories, taller than the Great Cathedral of Levkarest, it was a testament to... something. Something it was best not to contemplate.
The entire city was empty. It was not destroyed, the buildings stood, there were no marks of fire or invasion. It was simply abandoned. There was a kind of queer austerity to the Dread City of Kamarn-Quse.
It came by its title honestly.
