Days of Slowtree 4
March 19, 1915
We ate a quick and cold breakfast. We are very eager to explore this place. I looked over the edge of the railing again. The hollow center of this structure is so dark that we cannot see the bottom. I wanted to drop a rock down and see how long it would take to hit the bottom. I stepped outside through the hole in the wall. Wren asked me where I was going. I told and she said that it was not a very good idea to drop things down there. We might alert something to our presence. I suppose that she is right again.
Wren said that she was going to put a spell on each of us so that we could see in the dark. She drew something on my forehead with her wand. A slender beam of light sprung out of my forehead and illuminated whatever I looked at. I watched as she drew the symbol on Grub’s forehead. A beam of light erupted from his head and struck my eyes. I told him to look away. She handed the wand to Grub and had him do the same to her. He is getting pretty good at drawing magic, as I have learned it is called.
Grub and I pulled the wagons down the metal ramp that circled deep into the ground. It didn’t take long for me to get a little dizzy. Wren followed behind us.
The ramp leveled off with a platform after five minutes of walking. There were several benches that we sat on to rest our feet. We probably could have gotten here faster if we weren’t leading the wagons. The ramp was just steep enough to make the wagons want to roll on their own.
Grub took the lead this time as we got moving again. He let his wagon down first and followed behind it, hoping that gravity would do some of the work. Alas, gravity was a little too eager to take on this task. The wagon was too heavy for him to control. I ran over and helped him pull it back onto the platform. He said that it looked like my way of leading the wagons was better. He took the lead again, wagon in tow.
We stopped at two more platforms before we reached the bottom. I looked up and saw a small smear of light on the distant ceiling. Grub opened a door and walked out. Wren and I followed him. We were in the middle of a large plaza. The enormous obelisk reached far into the gloom above us. I could see two fountains surrounded by many brick paths, lined with rectangles of dirt. Maybe plants once adorned this place.
There was some sort of ceiling covering the city. I tried to make out what it was but my light failed to extend far enough. I asked Wren what she thought. She said that the research indicated that Pillarfield was buried. Since it clearly was not filled in with soil, perhaps an enormous plate of rock slid over top of it, supported by the surrounding hills. I could not fathom how such a thing could be. She said that the gods could handle such a feat.
Grub asked her if she knew what happened to all of the people that lived here. Did they escape somehow? Wren did not have an answer. We decided to leave the wagons in the base of the obelisk while we explored the plaza. Wren produced a chain and a lock from the luggage and secured the doors. Did she think that someone would steal our stuff? Maybe there are people down here still…
The plaza did not reveal anything. Buildings trundled away in all directions. There were all sorts of buildings just outside of the plaza. Some seemed like shops, while others were appointed like taverns. We did not find anything aside from shattered crockery and dilapidated furniture.
We were tired from the obelisk ramps and decided to call it a day. We did not know what time it was, but we had enough exploring for one day. Wren opened the doors of the obelisk and chained them shut once we were inside. There we cooked dinner and discussed our plans for tomorrow.