Short tale inspired by commissioned artwork done by thos
who goes by Leucrotta on Fur Affinity.

The Dead city layout inspired by ruins drawn by

https://www.weasyl.com/~darkaldebaran/submissions/403430/dead-city-snapshots-1

Further adventures of a former military human scribe traveling in the company of dog headed cynophalites.
This episode, Part 8

Call to Adventure: Dead City

League = 1.5 Roman miles, 1.4 miles, 2.2 km

It was still early morning when we eased pass the rubble pile and encountered the first of many wondrous things; The reservoir. A deep dark body of water with floating sheets of melting ice, for Spring had recently arrived in the Darwin mountains. That lake created behind a monolithic gray dam smoother than any stone block. We skirted the basin's edge along a paved roadway and came around to the original pass which overlooked the northernmost stretch of the Valley of Bones. And beheld not one, but four wonders before us.

The first and smallest were the ruins of an aqueduct complex more impressive than anything built by the Empire. A roadway of covered aqueduct leading from the lake basin. It rested upon high columns supporting huge, extraordinarly slim arches that ran in a crooked route that switch backed for leagues and leagues down the mountain slope into the valley below. Broken and crumbled in many places.

To our left, lay the second. A gray edifice of immense vastness. The Wall. It's difficult to chronicle with words on it's size. Think of the horizon of a gray sea pulled upwards like a seamless curtain that was as tall as the nearby mountains themselves!! The Wall ran from the nearby Darwin mountain chain, across the valley to the White Mountains. Both ends meshing smoothly into every crevice and contour of rising land. Made of the same strange substance as the dam. It sealed off this region like the cross piece of the letter 'A' encloses the uprights.

Within the Wall, lay the third marvel. An alcove cut into that strange stone like material. Like a vast entryway that even Titans of legend would be dwarfed by it.

Finally, the fourth wonder; a sprawling complex of stone, a strange metal tower and crumbling, whitewashed mud brick that was the Dead City. Before the Alcove, was a balustrade of arched stone enclosing three sides like a stone fence. Nearby, was a buttress like tower that looked like rough obsidian. In front of the balustrade stood a multi-storied complex of building encasing a towering cylinder of dusty metal topped with a cone of the same. That tower. Oeru's instructions mentioning that tower being the focus of attraction to the city's builders.

The rest of the urban layout was a multistory jumble of mud brick edifices taking up a square block or so. Still streaked in remaining white wash. Most were flat roofed with interior courtyards. A few were roofed in tile, cracked and crumbling. I scanned the slopes before us, locating the road for pack animals that zig zagged chaotically, dropping down to the valley floor and connecting to the only boulevard running arrow straight with no interruption. The boulevard terminated against the slopes of the White Mountains and shimmering air revealed a switch backing trail climbing upwards.

The route as taken by that hapless, but lucky human Ranger. He had roughly paced it as 10 leagues across the valley floor. But one had to negotiate the steep descent of thousands of feet down and an even more grueling climb upwards into the White mountains.

It was still mid morning, but already it was warm from the sun beating against our backs. The valley below was already tepid and the air down there would soon become as feverous as the fiercest of deserts.

I glanced at Shiloh. The collie cynophalite looked at me. Tail hooked and stiff, ears partly laid back. Like me, she was dressed to the bare minimum, carrying our water skins. I carried a reed message tube.

"Are we ready?" I said, pointing out our route. "We'll pace at a messenger strut. This is not a marathon race. For we need all our strength to climb out of the valley."

Shiloh wagged her tail, indicating she was ready.

"Time to tie that twine betwixt us."

Shiloh knelt and with a length of strong twine, tied it around my wrist. She tied the other end around her furred forehand. A link roughly an arm span and a half in length. She stood up and gave me half of our water skins that I tied around my waist.

We set off. Stiffly pacing down the packed roadway.

---

Most when asked about those who run, think of those participating in prized marathons. Where one trots vigorously in a 19 league run. Our pace was that used by messengers who will pace for not only most of the day, but often through the night. Water taken on the run, sometimes to slow to a walk and halting at stops where a bowl of soup awaits and occasional breather that lasts a short quarter hour glass long. A messenger's pace best described as a shuffle that conserves your reserves but faster than a walk.

Our run was more grueling, we had to walk in formation and Shiloh's pacing to match mine. The pace a careful step by step descent down the zig zagging path. Deeper and deeper into the valley. Our only sustenance was soft pemmican, rationed at a nibble on regular intervals. And a quick swallow of water. And onwards.

The sun was approaching zenith when we reached the boulevard. A quick swallow of water and we set off, surrounded by those block long habitats who's gaping window like openings and huge doorways were not unlike starring eyes from multiple skulls.

Unlike cities in gentler climates, there were no signs of birds, even desert ravens. No breeze drifted about. The air, like water, became shimmering waves dancing upon the distant tarmac, dazzling the eyes. With all that about, it was not hard to imagine being watched. Several times when we slowed to a walk to rest, I thought I saw someone waving to me from a doorway. Once I turned and would have left the boulevard to investigate had not Shiloh tugged sharply on the string tied to my wrist and broke the subtle Geis spell.

The sun had slid past zenith, leaving the air to become as punishing as from a bread oven. We were halfway across. And in front of the tile roof edifice which lay in front of the metal tower. From that distance, we could see the tower looming behind. That close, we saw it made of an odd metal in patina and coated in dust, dents and holes.

Oeru's words regarding the tower and The Wall itself echoed in my head

"The Wall had been built first by those older than my own Kin! They had taken secrets from the Earth and curiosity drove them to unleash that which lies latent within the deepest of confines. The Tower was built to contain the result of their quest. But before they could unleash their findings, the Deities of Yore banished them from this Milieu and Plane. Leaving behind their workings. Later came the city builders who attempted to to delve into that which lay within the Tower. Only to perish from sickness and despair. Angry ghosts condemned to wail at their failure and torment. Beware though. The Tower is still potent and awaits instructions."

This time, it was Shiloh with perked ears, hearing what she thought was a pup in distress. She would have set off towards the edifice had not my sharp words and a tug of my string broke that spell.

Shuddering, we both continued on.

When we came to the end of the boulevard, there was no relief at crossing the Dead City. Only anguish rewarded the slow slog up the steep trail. For our provisions were down to a few nibbles of pemmican and one water skin...