Epsilon stood at the lifeline of the boat's port outrigger, shaded by the blindsheets, and
tilted his head, back, back, back to take it all in. Vespuzia was suddenly there to clap the
Ritesman's shoulders and laugh in a cracked, dry voice that spoke volumes of their shar ed
privation.
"You did not know this place, this Verdune, is also called the Keep of Ten Thousand
Steps, did you?"
The War farer shook his head inside the cowling of his loosely fashioned sunr obes. "No,"
he croaked by way of reply. "And had I known, I most certainly would not have come." There
was more bitterness in his voice than he realized. “After all that long and hellish voyage, we ar e
come to this. I t is a sad disappointment."
Vespuzia, being Vespuzia, only laughed harder, until his raw larynx could not sustain the
effort. It failed in a dry rasp, which continued on for a disturbingly long time indeed. Epsilon was
just beginning wonder if his mate had finally cr acked in the sun, when the tr ader sucked a deep
breath and eased up a bit.
"Ah, you are a parched wit, my friend! And a master of understatement!" Gasping, the
captain fought to recover. "Well, do not feel alone, Holy Warfarer . We all must make that climb,
or perish here in the wastes."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Why? Because we are quit of potable water on the boat. Because we are all anxious to
be rid of this stifling heat, if only for a time. Because you have bar gained to tr ansport ten
thousand pounds of polished niter acr oss the sand sea, and the job is not finished until we have
hoisted it up to the har bor warehouses. In this case, yonder facade entrance will do nicely."
Epsilon quickly returned his gaze to the top of the steps, and was dismayed for his fr iends,
the courageous crew of
Lucky Lady
. "You mean to say you will tote the cargo up, sack by sack?"
Another fit of harsh laughter followed. "Hardly. No, we will instead drag up a tow line.
Once we are at the top, we will haul across a heavier line, then a heavier line still, until we have
one with enough strength to hold your sacks. Here on the boat, it will be fastened to the
mainmast pennant cap, you see. From there, we have but to hoist your sacks up to the haul yard,
and string them along, one after another. We will use brass rings for pullets, and thus we may
drag the entire load up in a single afternoon." The trader rasped dryly and grimaced.
"Tomorrow, of course, after we have gor ged ourselves on Verdune’s' sweet waters."
"Are you certain we will find water there?"
"Aye, it is a cursed place, but the waters that fill its shaded basins ar e known the world
around. Save in Empire, it seems."
"We are ignorant of many things in that oppressed land."
Vespuzia clucked his tongue and shook his head. Then he turned to find Becker and call
for the formation of a landing party with full arms and supplies for a two day stay. Though his
normally booming voice was much reduced since Oreset, the tall, haggard captain remained a
commanding figure.
to be continued...
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Thousand Steps - 2
Epsilon stood at the bow that evening and tried to guess how long it would be before they arrived at the foothills.
One day, he postulated silently, eying the already dominating purple
towers against the sky.
Possibly two. Certainly no more than three. They look so near. I can
see every craggy detail of them, it seems.
How wrong he was, only time would tell. Much time. Many days of it longer than he had estimated. On the eighth day that followed,
Lucky Lady drew in close to a high bluff wall, much
like that of Earth's Rim. It did not seem to span the world fr om pole to pole, but it was nonetheless an awesome geological monument. The mountains above seemed to bunch up at the very rim of the plateau, though they must yet lie many scores of miles away.
As they neared this easternmost shore of the Desert Ocean, Epsilon noted that the sheer face of the granite wall was well marred by the mouths of manmade caverns and deeply car ved facades. Sculptures of giants ther e were, beings of stone that stretched many sticks high, whose feet were buried in the sands of the sea. And impossibly vast frescos that were deeply embossed and cast in the form of all manner of mythical beast and magical monster. One portion of the bluff that jutted out into the sea had been completely altered by the touch of forgotten men, so it was now etched into the form of a gargantuan dome with marble pillars of living bedrock supporting the massive ceiling. It was just a cleverly fashioned facade, of course, and not a true building, but it was br eathtaking in its sheer, overwhelming... presence. This, Epsilon was told, was their disembarkation site.This, Epsilon was told, was Verdune, a lost city of the ancient dead. 'Verdune', he was
further informed, translated from the Sudanese into 'citadel of hated ghosts'. How pleasant, he thought, gazing upon the face of the cliff side from afar . It did not seem a fell place from this distance, he considered, but then distances, he had learned, were nothing if not deceiving on this side of the planet.Nearing Ver dune, Epsilon saw that the frescos and statues and facades and caverns and such all continued on and on to the south, farther than the eye could see, perhaps to the utmost
reaches of this deep and hidden inlet of the sandy sea. Certainly as far as the bluff wall extended,
which was closely defined at the northern end, but seemed to stretch forever down to the south.
On the final evening of their long journey from for gotten Oreset, some two and one half
months since first setting sail,
Lucky Lady
eased up to a high shore of sharply fashioned granite
steps, which ringed Verdune's central facade all around in an incomprehensibly immense
semicircle. Though there were thousands and thousands of them, and though they doubtlessly
penetr ated deep beneath the desert surface, each step was precisely like the one above and below
it, and each trailed off around the half circle in a perfectly level fashion. Verdune's many tiered
base was perhaps a five hundred sticks in diameter, or possibly more, and climbed one hundred to the entrance of the citadel high above. At the edge of the sea, the
Lady's crew could look straight
up along the sharp edges of the pr ecisely aligned stairway to the gaping stony gates of the
gargantuan facade at the summit.
to be continued...
One day, he postulated silently, eying the already dominating purple
towers against the sky.
Possibly two. Certainly no more than three. They look so near. I can
see every craggy detail of them, it seems.
How wrong he was, only time would tell. Much time. Many days of it longer than he had estimated. On the eighth day that followed,
Lucky Lady drew in close to a high bluff wall, much
like that of Earth's Rim. It did not seem to span the world fr om pole to pole, but it was nonetheless an awesome geological monument. The mountains above seemed to bunch up at the very rim of the plateau, though they must yet lie many scores of miles away.
As they neared this easternmost shore of the Desert Ocean, Epsilon noted that the sheer face of the granite wall was well marred by the mouths of manmade caverns and deeply car ved facades. Sculptures of giants ther e were, beings of stone that stretched many sticks high, whose feet were buried in the sands of the sea. And impossibly vast frescos that were deeply embossed and cast in the form of all manner of mythical beast and magical monster. One portion of the bluff that jutted out into the sea had been completely altered by the touch of forgotten men, so it was now etched into the form of a gargantuan dome with marble pillars of living bedrock supporting the massive ceiling. It was just a cleverly fashioned facade, of course, and not a true building, but it was br eathtaking in its sheer, overwhelming... presence. This, Epsilon was told, was their disembarkation site.This, Epsilon was told, was Verdune, a lost city of the ancient dead. 'Verdune', he was
further informed, translated from the Sudanese into 'citadel of hated ghosts'. How pleasant, he thought, gazing upon the face of the cliff side from afar . It did not seem a fell place from this distance, he considered, but then distances, he had learned, were nothing if not deceiving on this side of the planet.Nearing Ver dune, Epsilon saw that the frescos and statues and facades and caverns and such all continued on and on to the south, farther than the eye could see, perhaps to the utmost
reaches of this deep and hidden inlet of the sandy sea. Certainly as far as the bluff wall extended,
which was closely defined at the northern end, but seemed to stretch forever down to the south.
On the final evening of their long journey from for gotten Oreset, some two and one half
months since first setting sail,
Lucky Lady
eased up to a high shore of sharply fashioned granite
steps, which ringed Verdune's central facade all around in an incomprehensibly immense
semicircle. Though there were thousands and thousands of them, and though they doubtlessly
penetr ated deep beneath the desert surface, each step was precisely like the one above and below
it, and each trailed off around the half circle in a perfectly level fashion. Verdune's many tiered
base was perhaps a five hundred sticks in diameter, or possibly more, and climbed one hundred to the entrance of the citadel high above. At the edge of the sea, the
Lady's crew could look straight
up along the sharp edges of the pr ecisely aligned stairway to the gaping stony gates of the
gargantuan facade at the summit.
to be continued...
Thousand Steps - 1
A trail of darkly shelled corpses followed the
Lucky Lady
away fr om her duels amid the
burning sands. These carcasses were left behind to rot, as even the voracious illdross deemed
chum inedible flesh. From her harried exploits near Midpointe Rock, the
Lady
pressed forward
on a heading of due east for mor e than six hundred leagues, skirting the northernmost reaches of
Hatred Gouge, a vast and lengthy river canyon that ran jaggedly south to distant seas of salt
water. At this point, the captain plotted a course that ran southeast across a high plateau formed
by the eastern side of the Gouge, until they came within sight of a towering, sharply peaked range
of mountains. These ranges, which were alternately named Raymar's Sorrow or Earthbone
Mountains, depending on the source of one's maps, sat squarely on the horizon like piles of fresh
granite slag, all steeply sloped sides and razor sharp ridges, which were universally topped by a
downy fleece of snow and vaporous clouds.
Once the Earthbones were fully in view, though they stood well off in the distance,
Captain Tipper turned his boat directly south to pursue them on a parallel course for another three
hundred leagues. The voyage that followed was uneventful and somewhat pleasant, despite the
intense heat, perhaps because the omnipresent ice-capped mountains off the port rail were a
constant reminder that there really were cooler places in the world, that all was not blasted hellfire
and sulfurous br imstone.
On the thirteenth day of this last leg of their interminable voyage,
Lucky Lady
entered into
a broad, sandy basin, which filled the valley that spanned the void between two vast, diverging
ranges of alps. Now there were frosted peaks on either side of them as they continued to press
further south, though the way wandered a bit. After many long days and countless leagues
traversed, Vespuzia again turned them directly east, this time to narrowly approach the stony feet
of the impossibly massive Earthbones.
to be continued....
Lucky Lady
away fr om her duels amid the
burning sands. These carcasses were left behind to rot, as even the voracious illdross deemed
chum inedible flesh. From her harried exploits near Midpointe Rock, the
Lady
pressed forward
on a heading of due east for mor e than six hundred leagues, skirting the northernmost reaches of
Hatred Gouge, a vast and lengthy river canyon that ran jaggedly south to distant seas of salt
water. At this point, the captain plotted a course that ran southeast across a high plateau formed
by the eastern side of the Gouge, until they came within sight of a towering, sharply peaked range
of mountains. These ranges, which were alternately named Raymar's Sorrow or Earthbone
Mountains, depending on the source of one's maps, sat squarely on the horizon like piles of fresh
granite slag, all steeply sloped sides and razor sharp ridges, which were universally topped by a
downy fleece of snow and vaporous clouds.
Once the Earthbones were fully in view, though they stood well off in the distance,
Captain Tipper turned his boat directly south to pursue them on a parallel course for another three
hundred leagues. The voyage that followed was uneventful and somewhat pleasant, despite the
intense heat, perhaps because the omnipresent ice-capped mountains off the port rail were a
constant reminder that there really were cooler places in the world, that all was not blasted hellfire
and sulfurous br imstone.
On the thirteenth day of this last leg of their interminable voyage,
Lucky Lady
entered into
a broad, sandy basin, which filled the valley that spanned the void between two vast, diverging
ranges of alps. Now there were frosted peaks on either side of them as they continued to press
further south, though the way wandered a bit. After many long days and countless leagues
traversed, Vespuzia again turned them directly east, this time to narrowly approach the stony feet
of the impossibly massive Earthbones.
to be continued....
Friday, March 14, 2008
hi fellas ham ready to rock the world
hi dudes nd babes.... i dont kwn wat to do wit my first post.... so ham literarily typed some weird stuffs…..
k lads ham starting late bcos I thought d rite time s now…
so be ready for the spark
ham goin to post all d pics that ham goin to take from my mob. and post it in the blog.
k lads ham starting late bcos I thought d rite time s now…
so be ready for the spark
ham goin to post all d pics that ham goin to take from my mob. and post it in the blog.
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