Strange Shores

I awoke, checked over the camp, and then attended towards the matter of exploring the large gothic buildng which rose upward from the northern hillside, clouds swirling near its pinnacled roof. The way was uphill, steep, and for speed of approach I used the flying crystals. As I neared, I saw now sign of actvity for such a large structure and at it's doors there were no guards. Testing the doors, I found them unlocked and after calling several times, I allowed myself inside. The feel of the place was meditative, peaceful, but also there was a loneliness to the place carried perhaps by the sound of the wind moving through the abandoned structure. The building had been kept up, that much was obvious, but by whom and how often, there was no sign. No adornments besides the lavish stained glass windows brightened the place, no couches, no chairs, no flowers, no rugs to make the place feeled lived in.


In a way, I felt like I was visiting someone, paying my regards to an old ancient but long forgotten king. And it felt as if the old noble was carefully watching me in return. I could feel the weight of the structure all around me, and below me as well. Much work had been placed into the building and I had the feeling that it seemed so much was going to waste here. Coming across a beautiful outdoor garden space, carefully tended but still carrying that forlorn feeling, cemented this opinion.


It would seem that its designer was not without a sense of paranoid cleverness as I nearly met an unfortunate fate while moving from room to room. Luckily, I take great care in my explorations and because of such practices I have lived through several close encounters without a scratch. Opening a massive door, I nearly tumbled forward into a room that was not there for the doorway opened up directly above an unfinished underground level. Had I been rushing through the doorway I would have fallen a decent 25 feet unto the cold and unforgiving stone floor below. Catching my breath but curious of the lower floor, I lowered myself down with the use of the crystal. I was disappointed however in finding no other clues as to why such a door existed. I suppose it is possible that I had simply wandered into a unfinished portion of the building but with no signs of warning or care, I have to assume that it was all part of some fiendish trap. It added a mysterious air to the rest of the feelings I had about the place. I let myself out the way I had entered and closed the doors gently behind me. As I walked towards the northest to see what else I could see, I looked over my shoulder at the palace behind me and felt as if its eyes watched me till I was lost in the trees.



A little more to the north, I moved past numerous homes, also vacant until I came across a wonderful hillside retreat. A lovely creek waterfall bouncing down a stone covered hillside, flowers, a mated pair of swans, and the most splendid tents filled the area.


Gloomy thoughts of lonely abandoned kings were washed away by the energy of the place. As I enjoyed the area and began taking images with the crystal imager, I realized that I was not alone. Looking to my right, I saw movement through the trees. Using my imager, I was able to get a better look at what appeared to be a female native working on some project or attending to the nearby trees. So as not to alarm her, I called out quietly but received no response. Attempting better contact, I made my way over the creek garnered me a wet cloak and boots. I stopped nearly sixty feet away and called to her again. Finally getting her attention, she asked if I was speaking to her. I smiled and affirmed that I was and then introduced my self and my quest.

I was rewarded with her running away from me like a faun. Around the trees and up over the hillside, she disappeared from sight before I was even able to say another word.

Letting out a long sigh, I wondered yet again what it is about my presence that seems to frighten some natives into either silence or flight? Is it the weaponry I carry at my side, the elven blade and the stun baton? It cannot be the Webley as it is tucked discreetly under the inner foldings of my coat, secured by a firm harness. Perhaps it is my size? Could it be that I am somehow considered grotesque or monstrous by some of the natives? I imagine such a thing could be true since it appears the Mainland consists of many varied and different cultures. Also, if Miss Ofeq were with me perhaps the female would have acted differently? Who is to say for sure?

I pressed on and explored the area further, finally following the shoreline upwards into a small secluded inlet where I found a fascinating pub. From a distance, I was struck again of the old world feel that I consider so comforting. Not knowing it was a pub at the time, my curiosity was piqued by an odd adornment on the roof of the building. Flying closer I could see that it was some form of moving image of an athletic looking woman dancing the same moves over and over. Not sure if I was looking at a form of magic or technology, I decided to land and have a closer look inside the building if possible.

Opening the unlocked door I was delighted to find a well-stocked yet empty of patrons pub. Wood panelling, low lighting, and a well stocked wall of various spirits all added up to a comforting glow. The lack of patrons, or even owners, I treated to it being so early in the morning. Seeing a spiral staircase I ascended it and discovered not only the answer to the odd image on the roof but a shocking sight.

What I can only surmise is a place for festivity and celebration, I found the entire upstairs area had been taken over with swirling lights, floor, and music. The entire area was filled with a feeling of celebration and jubilation. Tucked away in a corner is what appeared to be a small podium for the master of whatever ceremonies went on in this place. Flanked by two large rectangular boxes that appeared to be some sort of listening or porjection device, the rest of the podium was filled with switches and dials of whose purpose escapes me. On odd curving glass shield rested above the control panel which struck me as interesting. It appeared to be some form of protection which led me to wonder if the was some danger involved in being the leader of these particular ceremonies? Or, perhaps, the shield was simply for the equipment itself? But, then I wonder, from what? Regardless, I moved about the room, taking images for archival purposes and what measurements I could. I decided to name the place the "Dancing Lady Pub" in my notes in honor of the strange device I found earlier on the roof.

Coming down the stairs, I encountered another odd sight. A large winged man, pale-skinned and white haired, stood in the center of the lower level looking at me. I greeted him as I have done all the natives but he seemed to just ignore me and moved to the bar without saying a word. With the experiences fresh in my mind concerning the female earlier, I have begun to believe that the natives practice some form of silence to newcomers. I know of some cultures that will ignore newcomers to their lands on the grounds that they may be spirits or ghosts. Could this be something similiar? If so, I am now more curious about it then before. My other thought is perhaps they have been told by some central leader to ignore me and other members of the Expedition? Could this be due to some sort of paranoia or fear?

I left the pub behind me and a little disheartened with the lack of contact, travelled back to camp to organize my thoughts and these notes. I believe we will be breaking camp soon, perhaps tomorrow, and moving onward as we enter the third week of our expedition. As normal, I plan to continue North and eastward, following the coast until I find a reasonable path deeper into the heart of the Mainland.