The Ruins of Gilgil

"No," Fred replied. "I want to see what's in that city." 

"Death," Carib the werecat whispered. "That is what we will find in Gilgil." 

"Yes," Alicia agreed strongly. "Malachi and the survivors of Quaz'hawad told us what happened here. The Wrath turned this city to glass, and my family along with it. Why must we disturb the ashes of their fiery grave. This city is a tomb. It is not for the living." 

"And do not forget about the strange sickness that strikes down all those who venture too close to the ravaged wastes left behind by the wickedness of the Lizard Men," Marta added. She was a werewolf and a healer, and she had tended many of the citizens of Quaz'hawad that were cursed by the sickness left behind by the Enemy. 

"But it could be most illuminating," Synizn said. "Know thy enemy as thy know thyself. It is an old proverb, and one that has never failed me. I will go into that shattered town." 

Fred raised his head high, "I am a soldier and a knight peer. I do not fear the scene of battle, whether it rages all around me or lies in cold ruins. I must see what our enemy has done. I must know what they are capable of." 

"But they are our enemy no longer," Alicia countered. "They have fled our world." 

"And who is to say if they will ever return?" Fred asked her. "I must do this my love. Stay in the boat. I won't be long." Alicia turned away from him, she could not bear to look on the terrible ruin any longer. 

Fred, Synizn and a few others stepped out onto the glassy bank of the river and made their way to the melted battlements of Gilgil. The wooden gate had been turned to ash. The stone walls had cracked and fused. The ground had heaved and rippled and frozen in place. It was clear that nothing could have survived the attack. 

They crossed into the city and Synizn suddenly stumbled. Willian caught him. "Is something wrong?" Synizn grinned apologetically, "Magic is a most unforgiving mistress. I am tired from the battle with the crocodiles, that is all." Willian nodded, "I am no expert on spell casting, old bear, but you use magic I am not familiar with. Our mages always use staves and wands and powders, but you simply wave your hand." 

"Yes," Synizn breathed heavily. "There are many different disciplines. I prefer to manipulate the ethereal energies that surround us all. But, there is a price to pay. It is much easier to use magical compounds and objects, or to call on the might of some eldritch being from another sphere. But I do not like asking favors of the gods, and I'm afraid those crocodiles didn't give me much time to act, and I had nothing prepared." 

"Yes, very rude of them I'd say," Willian smiled. "Well let us hope then that there is nothing in this dead city that will require your magical expertise." 

"Has anyone else noticed," Pall asked as they walked down the city street, "those strange painted figures on the walls?" Abu, one of the survivors of Quaz'hawad who had left to accompany Princess Alicia, turned to the others, "This is not the work of my people." Ananka stepped up to one. "Yes, most curious workmanship. And look at the odd poses they're in." She drew a finger across one of the dark figures, "It appears to be some type of charcoal. Strange. (Sniff Sniff) Very strange." Synizn walked up behind her, "What is it?" She raised her finger to his nose and he too smelled the oily black substance. "Well, well," he frowned. "This used to be human. I don't think I'd like to meet the artist who painted these figures." 

The others muttered in shock and disgust at this grisly finding. "Perhaps that is why there are no bodies," Pall suggested. "The survivors burned them all, melted the fat from their bones." Fred shook his head at the troubling thought. He could not believe that people could do such a thing. "Then where are the survivors?" he asked. Astra shrugged, "I don't think there were any. The Lizard Men did this, before they returned to the pit that spawned them." 

They had now reached a large once-beautiful building. Its minarets were twisted like old trees, and the steps leading up to the doors ran like frozen water. "The King's palace," Abu said, his eyes wide with fear. The King of Ethiopia had been a strong and righteous man, and his cunning and courage in battle had struck terror into his enemies. But something even more terrible had finally defeated him and ended his reign. The party entered and quickly split up, looking for clues to the last days of this mighty desert city. 

It was Pall and his group that first discovered the large sandy mounds. They stood five feet high, a foot across at the top. "Are they ant hills?" Pall murmured. 

Ananka and Carib had made their way down to the lower levels of the palace. They did not like what they saw. In the darkness under the keep, it was plain to see that everything shimmered with a sickly, green glow. 

Fred, Willian, Astra and the rest stopped when they found the royal treasury. The huge room overflowed with gold and silver. Statues and chests and swords and shields and every type of jewel and precious stone filled the room. They had never seen such treasure. Willian took a step forward...
 
 

1. The Secrets of Gilgil