Theresa ot an Bol'hjar, Benedict Kaspin
"A dead city?"
"Yes.""Not a live one? With shops and merchants?"
"Nope.""Ben, are you serious?"
"Completely."Theresa sighed. The duo were heading through the cave Ben seemed to be awfully excited about. She wasn't too keen on skipping over a normal, friendly settlement yet again, but she wasn't about to start arguing with her oversized companion over it.
The cave was well-lit, at least.
"Trust me, it'll be great. We're gonna find plenty of parts and gadgets while we look for that key. By the time we're done, I'll have enough to turn your crossbow into a steam-powered beast of a weapon." Ben said, seemingly holding in his eagerness.
"Easy there, big guy." Theresa said. "Let's just focus... on..."
They were approaching the mouth of the cavern. And the rock and dirt at their feet...
It started to change to dust.
"Yeah. This is a good sign."
They came upon the exit, and stepped outside. The sky was grey, just a dull blanket of clouds. They were standing on a small clearing on the side of a mountain. Everywhere, covering everything was dust. Dust that looked to have once been ash. There was a trail leading upwards, marked by lantern poles that had long gone out. The duo began their ascent upwards to their destination. The dust didn't make for solid footing, but they survived.
As they climbed, they saw buried in the dust, body after body. There was too much covering them to make out any unique details. But what could be made out were large, ruined machines. Weapon emplacements. Artillery.
"What in the world..."They reached the top. Ahead of them were walls of stone, draped in dust, reaching stories high. And at the peak of the trail was an immense metal gate, halfway ajar. The walls and the gate both were covered in what looked like blast marks, and accompanying rubble.
Ben stepped toward the gate. Theresa looked apprehensive, but she followed alongside him. They slipped past the open gate, up a large set of stone stairs, with more dust-ridden bodies littered about.
They reached the top. And they stood. And beheld.
Towers. So, so tall. Bridges and walkways, all made of stone, all damaged in some way. Bodies strewn about, dressed in so many varying fashions, it was a chore to tell who was allied with who. And of course, dust. Dust settled over everything.
No sounds. No movement. No life.
"This is it."
"Voldoa..."