There was plenty of light in the day! More than enough, he thought, this is perfect!

This Makyn assured himself with as he stood before a derelict gate in front of weathered stone walls. He had been nervous to come here, though he knew not why- as he was the only one around. 

This would be his first endeavour to the ruin, since having first arrived and settled in his assigned area.

And, more than like, it would be many more trips to this area to fully encompass and report everything that had been asked of him. Depending on the size of the ruin, it could be a great many years before he was even close to finishing. That did not include the time that would be needed for his own survival, recreation, and auxiliary duties that are assigned to all Loneseekers.

Maybe that was what was causing his stomach to churn? The enormousness of the matter?

It was time to get started.

… And first that meant getting through the front gate.

“Will it be fine if I just… push it open?” He wondered aloud. It was a fair question- the gate was made of wood that was now so rotten looking, it might fall apart at the smallest touch, which worried him slightly for the interior. He made a note of that, unstrapping his pack, and pulling from it a quill and parchment to write down his thoughts and notes.

After scribbling down some words, he set these items down with his pack, and walked up to the gate, before touching the old wood- the whole thing creaked. Makyn gave it a little push, and the door went inward, creaking loudly all the way. 

‘Well,’ He thought, ‘That solved that issue- but they really didn’t even lock it? The mechanism on this thing doesn’t look engaged at all!’

Going back to his pack and parchment, he wrote down this curiosity, before venturing into the courtyard.

The ruin was built about the side of the mountain, with a light stone wall surrounding a courtyard, and narrow ramparts built onto the wall itself. On the mountain itself was more equipment, and a door

As the purpose for this structure had been lost during the fall- presumably, in any case- it would now be Makyns job to rediscover the purpose of said structure, and document any findings. Documenting meant writing down architecture, design, mechanisms, items, bodies (if there were any), and much more.

Was it a fort? It seemed fairly far from the road, or Northwestville for that matter, to be of any help against an invader- but, a wise commander of the garrison could take his forces and harass the rear and flanks of any hostile force. At the very least, it would divert manpower and resources from anyone dedicated enough to stay in the area for long.

The problem with this theory was that, while the walls were stone, they were not tall, nor were they thick- meaning any potential sieger wouldn’t have too much trouble actually breaching into the courtyard

A mine? Maybe- as Makyn walked through the courtyard of the fortification, he noticed pickaxes and shovels. Valuable ore or minerals pulled from the mountain could be sent north to the main road, and then onto wherever it needed to go; as well, it would need to be defended. But in that regard, there was no sign of what sort of ore could be pulled from this mountain, nor were there any tailing piles. And why stone for the walls? Wood from the surrounding forest would be easier for lighter defenses. Of course, the ruin was built into the mountain, so of course they would need digging tools- and the only obvious portal in regards to the mountainside was a doorframe, in which set a large, metal reinforced, double door.

What about a repository? A repository for what, then? What would you keep in a place like this? And why would they need to protect it so?

With that in mind, Makyn returned to his earlier idea of a fort; should any attackers breach the wall, the defenders would then be forced back and then be trapped in the mountain with whatever they were guarding, and with only one obvious way out.

That considered, he did not want to become trapped in there, with an enemy at the gates. 

Doubly so in present time, as there was no clear indication that there were any sources of water down below. It was possible that there were, which would be fine, but what about food? Any provisions would have long molded away.

As well, he had no idea if anything malicious walked the darkness, meaning he would need to arm himself before he decided to fully plumb the depths.

This he also put down in his notes, as a reminder to himself for the next expedition- he could carve himself a spear, or acquire a knife or some other close quarters utensil in town. He doubted his bow would be much use in underground corridors. That written down, for this trip, and should the ruin be exceedingly large, he would stick to the entrance area for the time being.

If it was not, then, well, it would not be an issue then, and he would have no need for armament.

-

Makyn approached the double doors, imposed by the metallically reinforced wood which rose a measure above his head. He felt the door, still mostly solid even after all of this time, and then yanked at one of the large handles.

The frame shuttered, meaning it had loosened over its century and a half of neglect and exposure to the outside- bad for the door, good for him- but it didn’t pull open. That was bad for him.

So did that mean... whoever had been inside when the fall happened, were still in there? Either they were dead or… shambling about. Makyn had heard tell of men who continued to walk even after they had long passed. He had dismissed it as exaggeration, but the thought of it irrationally unnerved him.

At the moment it did not matter what was inside, because first he had to actually make it through it into the ruin.

The doors were, most likely, the wood and metal plating that were plain to see on the outer side of this door, most mostly just the bare would on the inner side. As well, if those inside of the structure had meant to keep others out of it, there might be a bar across the frame to act as another lock.

Or, well, it was just rusted shut.

Now, Makyn had two options: he could brute force it, and batter the door until the wood of the door, and the wood of the bar gave way. There was no telling how long that option would take- he would need to erect some sort of contraption to hold a steady enough ram, and then continuously work on the door until it gave way.

His other option could be… well, literally pulling the doors down.

Now one might think, ‘Makyn, you fool! If this stronghold were built to withstand some sort of an attack, why would the builders let such a flaw exist?!’

Now, Makyn agreed with this assessment- but only if the structure itself was new! And this ruin was, by all definitions, not new. He wagered this place had not been, at the very least, touched since the fall, a century and a half ago.

That meant the mechanisms and materials that made up the door had neither been maintained or replaced, which gave him the edge; quite literally, as it were, based on his machinations. Indeed, he had already felt it loosen when he had just yanked at the door.

Now all he needed was a way to actually accomplish the task...

-

After quickly returning home to retrieve several items he would need for this mad idea, including a coil of rope (which he hung around his arm), a thick metal head from a broken, shoddily made axe, and a hammer. The axe head he took over to the door, reached up, and shoved it into the doorframe crack where it was loosest, and then hammered it further into the stone. With rope, he knotted it around the broken handle of the axe head, and then knotted around the handles of the doors.

The wall, which had a rampart ringing the inside of it, would obviously need some way to get further supplies up to the walk so that the inhabitants would not have to walk a poorly constructed stair or ladder to continue with their work. That some way was a small crane with a wooden platform lifted up by a single pulley. Perfect.

He tied the rope onto the pulley, making sure it was as taut as he could possibly make it.

Now all he needed was something heavy enough to push down onto the platform...

Clambering up onto the wall, he spied about the length of the fortification for anything up to the task, and… ah hah! A large stone, which seemed to have fallen backward onto the rampart from the edge of the wall, lay there for the taking.

Makyn gave it a nudge, and when it didn’t move, he began rolling it as quickly as he could over to just the right position, struggling to move it in those last few inches. All was in place!

By the gods, he hoped the wooden platform would hold just enough, or it would be a pain in his…

And then he shoved the stone right off the side onto the pulley platform, crashing it to the ground, the ropes tightened and then BAM! The doors tore out from their frame and rusted metal and rotten wooden pieces scattered about the courtyard.

He laughed out loud. “Well that seemed to work!”

-

Makyn wandered about the wreckage, looking for anything of substance that might be gleaned from the door before he headed into the ruin proper. Nervousness churned at his gut.

He found nothing that would warrant keeping him there any longer, and he could leave the items he used for the endeavour out here until he returned home.

And so, he steeled himself for the long dark, walking past the destroyed door frame and into the mountain. What was he so nervous about, anyway? It couldn’t be about screwing up, there was no one else around to ‘perform’ form, and nothing to perform either way.

Then Makyn sighed and breathed out. Did he really need retrospection for this? He was nervous about whatever could possibly be inside! The unknown!

“It’s fine!” He spoke out loud into the open air, “All I have to do is check the main room for today, and then I will return another time!” Convincing himself, surely.

And then he realized that he could see anything anyway, in what was obviously just an entrance corridor coated in dust.

With a nervous chuckle at himself, he returned to the courtyard for the light, and searched amongst the broken pieces of wood for a good specimen. Taking a long splintered rod in hand, he took from his bag an oiled leather perfect for just such an occasion, and wrapped it around the head of the stick, then set it to the ground, pulled a fire sparker, and then lit the torch.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

It crackled into life before him- which had the distinct feeling of singing his eyebrows.

With the now crackling torch in hand, he returned to the dark of the entrance corridor.

-

It did not take him long to find the first boon.

A meter within the entrance corridor, he spotted alternating sconces built into the stone wall. Approaching one, he stuck the burning head of the torch upon where the flame would come, and the torches of the entrance hall all burst into light.

Makyn swore and turned about at the sudden light.

When his heart settled down, he realized what had happened. By the gods! As well, he spotted above each sconce a small hole upon which the smoke was leaving. That meant there was a piping system in the mountainside- how extensive? He could not tell from this small observation, but sighed with relief at the fact that he would not be suffocating on this day.

The next oddity of the day was the end of the entrance corridor, whereupon lay another, inner protecting door.

Why did Makyn not think about what to do in case there should have been an inner door? Who knows! What would he have done about an inner door should he have thought about it, and should it have been shut? Good question!

Thankfully, neither of those questions needed to actually be asked or answered by anyone other than himself.

Indeed, there was an inner double doors- made of the same materials and mechanisms that the outer door had been made of, and set in the same design and frame. This time, however, there was an important distinction, and another oddity to add to the list. These double doors were thrown wide open.

These inner double doors, then, proved that this ruin was built to protect something, or store something from the outside world. But what? And what had happened so that those inhabitants could not close this door in time?

Makyn held his torch up and passed through the door frame. Beyond that led to… more darkness.

The door had not been forced, as there was no signs of pressure or dramatics against it; Not like his stunt with the outer door, in any case. 

And in an even more foreboding oddity, it did not appear… decayed, either. Sure, there was a thick layer of dust over its surface- but other than that, there was no decay. No weathering, no wear and tear.

Now the layer of dust, he understood, but not even a hint to suggest that this thing had been sitting there for over a century?

That would imply, in his knowledge of previous explorations, that there was no air present to hold it in such a state. But that simply couldn’t be! The air was only mildly stale, meaning that some air from the outside had made it through whatever piping system was criss crossing the mountain had managed to make it into the interior, which meant that it could not possibly be in such a condition. And then, whatever held it in such a condition did not extend but a few meters behind him.

This added to the already churning pit of uneasiness, but he moved forward regardless.

And as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized… he realized it was in a wider entrance hall. Above him, Makyn could just make out a balcony that stretched around the top of the room. In front of him, he made out one staircase going up, and one going down.

Already this trip had already proved that would be much and more that he needed to report back to the council, and had the nagging feeling that it was only ‘brushing the surface’, as it were.

But, first things first- he needed light!

In the intermingling of his eyes acclimating to the darkness of the room, and the very edges of the torch light, Makyn observed a stone pedestal rising from the floor, and as it came further into the light, he saw that it was a large brazier. That would be a good start.

As he peered inside the large bowl of the brazier, he noticed that there still seemed to be flammable material inside, so like any brave explorer he ducked the head of the torch into it.

The basin came to life first with small crackling sounds, and then a sudden wave of heat washed over his face even harder than when he had first lit his torch-

And then then the entire room suddenly came to life as sconces built around the room cast the hall in a blaze of light.

Dust burned away, and century old, masterpiece cobwebs that filled the dark corners of the room, flickered and died in an instant.

Then revealed to him was all that had been hidden to him by the dark, and more that he not seen showed themselves as well.  Ringing the second floor were passages, and to his sides were smaller doors- and a ceiling extended far above him. The staircase leading downwards was shrouded in dark after only a few meters, so Makyn could not wager just how deep the ruin was.

The walls and columns were beautifully decorated and carved out of the mountain stone- above him, the ceiling, well… it shimmered with multi colored light from countless… he wasn’t sure, but thought possibly they could be many varied jewels.

“By the… gods,” Makyn spoke aloud, in wonderment. Already, he knew that it would take him many years, decades, even, to explore fully explore this place.

-

Deciding to keep with his decision before with sticking to the entrance hall and its most immediate areas, Makyn chose to examine the door, first, out to his right side- the right side of the ruin, as he decided to name it, for his notes.

The door was smaller, made of the same material as the gates, but even more reinforced than they were. As well, it was just as pristine as the inner gate.

In fact, everything around him seemed to be in perfect condition, albeit some cracks and scratches to indicate that people once moved heavy objects about the floor. Again, this unnerved Makyn.

This door was also slightly ajar- he pulled it open, shoving the torch in front of him in case something jumped from the shadows, and when nothing did, he stepped inside. As with the entrance corridor and hallway, there was a sconce built into the wall, and when he touched the fire to it, a line of torches burst into flame. Makyn was still incredulous to the fact that the old Kingdom had managed to light whole rooms using only one torch, but glad for its usefulness.

Maybe he would discover its secrets one day? Something to report back, in any case.

Before Makyn stood three more passageways, the closest doorway being closed off with a plain wooden door, and the other two stood open to the air. He passed by the furthest two, first, jamming the torch through the doorways and waving it about so he could observe them for a few moments, and then got out. No real reason for this, considering he would need to record both of them at a later time. Something about them just raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

The middle room seemed to double as a store house as well as a barracks, the furthest room- a full barracks. Although in the semi-darkness he could not be fully sure of exact numbers, there were perhaps seventy five beds between the two open rooms. The forward garrison, perhaps? Being the troops that manned the exterior perimeter, and courtyard, and the wall outside. 

Now, if those were the barracks for the troops, then the officers quarters would be…

Makyn pushed open the wooden door to the first room, closest to the door out into the entrance hall. It too was seemingly in perfect repair.

He did not look hard enough to see if there was anything, or… anyone in the beds, so he could pretend they might all be empty, but he could not be sure about...

But as he expected, there were two beds for officers inside along the side walls, and a desk along the back wall. Stacked high was… correspondence! Writing tools, maps, candles and spare candles, a book, and four swords that hung up behind them.

And... what he had been afraid of… last but not least… and sitting slumped over onto the desk… was the body of someone long, long deceased. Not but bone, dust, cobweb, and the probable men's clothing that hung limply from the skeleton.

His eyes widened, and breath caught in his throat. Sure, he had cut down monsters and sure, he had hunted his fair share of animals- even seen some of the dead back in Northwestville, but… but it was his first time seeing something that so clearly used to be a human being.

Makyn backed out of the room, torched held aloft, letting his body settle down at the sight. Then he took a breath, and thought through his nervousness. It was a skeleton! That meant whoever this person had been, they died an age ago.

Though this thought did little to set him at ease, there was no point in sulking about it from the doorway. He moved back into the room, looking around for telltale sconce, but found, surprisingly, a completely normal bracket for a torch, and completely empty.

He set his own torch in the bracket, and then cautiously made his way to the desk.

The skeletal arms lay upon the desk, around its skull, a quill still in its hand. However this person had died, they were writing when they did so, meaning it had been sudden death- taken by surprise. But… that explanation seemed to be off the mark. The skeleton was in a position to suggest that this person had merely fallen asleep

And… there were no tears, or wound holes in the skeletons clothing, and no century old stains on the stone to show bleeding. In fact- and as he gazed at the wider desk- everything was in the same pristine condition that he had so far seen throughout the rest of the ruin. The bones, the clothes on the skeletons back, the parchment the character was writing on as well as all of the others on the desk, the candles that stuck around the character, and the swords that hung upon the wall in front of the desk.

Then how had this- presumably- man, died?

So surprised by the information he had gleaned, confusion and wonder replaced the terror in his gut.

Thoroughly unnerved by so far, he carefully, CAREFULLY, reached forward and tugged the skeleton off of the chair, and onto its side on the floor. It clattered upon the stone, shattering the quiet that instilled the ruin; he jumped, and then berated himself. Not messing around this time, Makyn took the under arms of the skeleton, pulled the mass up and onto a bed, and there is where he left it.

Though he would feel bad for disturbing the dead, he would need to go through the pockets of the corpse later, for closer examination

With the quiet returned to the ruin, and his talkative friend laying in bed, it was time to examine the contents of the desk, and see if he could make out what exactly this place had been used for. Of course, this was most likely an officer of the guard, so there would probably not be anything too useful, but it was worth an attempt.

He set his own note taking parchment down on the desk, set his pack down next to the chair, and began reading in the light of the torch.

-

Although the material of the parchments were in the same pristine condition as anywhere else he had seen in this place, there was a layer of dust that had to be wiped away before any of them could actually be read.

Makyn settled to read the most immediate letter that the officer had been writing before… well.

And though it was interesting to see how those who came from before wrote, but, as he had expected, there was not much to be learned through the military correspondence other than the day to day of inter-garrison dramatics: general complaints, mischief and discipline, orders or lack thereof, affronts of honor, etcetera and so forth.

There was one thing, however, he managed to glean from one such letter- being the original letter laid out under the skeletons hand, seemingly finished before the officer died. It read about this officers anger with the garrison commanders having not rotated this unit down below already, and felt as if they were playing favorites. Now on its own this did not mean anything, but the officer continued, writing, ‘It’s not as if the Byre will move any time soon, so why should we not get a rest?’

This might be it.

Byre, byre… honestly, to Makyn, it didn’t sound like anything special, nor did it mean anything special in the old tongue- being the word ‘time’. A common word, as it were, but was obviously in reference to something.

Now there were a few options as to what this Byre could be. It could be a group of people- they were not leaving this place and thus guards were here to protect them. Why? Eccleseastial purposes, maybe? This place could very well be a temple, then.

Another option was that this was indeed an object of some sort, hence why it won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, in which case then it could be a repository.

Speculation could wait until later, however, as the days goals had been met, and he had established a foothold within his assigned ruin. Between speculation, observation, and hesitation, he had a myriad of notes that would need to be reported back to the council.

And obviously, this ruin had shown that there would need more than a handful of expeditions to fully choreograph its depths.

Then he thought of this Byre thing, again. If they had been a group of people, Makyn very much wanted to get a hold of their writings.

Much to explore, and much to learn. 

The next time he came here, he would need to press further forward into the depths, and again, he knew not what lie in wait below, hoping some tasty treat walked in front of it. And as he had noted before, he would need to arm himself should such creatures appear.

Though… even trained, Makyn was not the greatest fighter in the world. Should it prove too much for him alone, he would need to ask for help from other nearby Loneseekers. If his brother of the same province, Nicolae, was not busy with his own ruin, he might very well recruit him to help scour any miscreant. Nicolae was a much better fighter than him.

It was not forbidden, of course- to ask for help with one's own assignment, but there were some Loneseekers who would scold you for it- for not being self sufficient. Hence, his own urgency to take care of the issue by himself.

However, there were times when even this scolding would be nullified.

During his training, Makyn had heard a tale of four Loneseekers who ventured into the ruins of a full blown fortress far to the east, running along the road between the North West Province and the large city of Antenfair. Inside the fortress, beasts and monsters had taken control of its battlements in the absence of men, and because one of these Loneseeker’s had the structure as their assignment, it needed to be cleared.

As he understood it, all four nearly lost their lives, but in the end managed to clear the fortress regardless.

Now, he doubted that this ruin would provide the same amount of trouble- nor was it often that Loneseekers needed to call upon the help of another in such a matter- but it helped to have it at the back of one's mind. If he was lucky, there would be nothing to deal with except cleaning up the century long dead.

Hooray.

If he wasn’t lucky, there would probably just be an angry wildcat or two, or an orc that had somehow made its way here.

And then as if on queue, the mountain responded to his thoughts.

SCCRATCH!

A sound scraped, and scratched- tearing at the silence of the ruin, and bouncing off the walls to amplify the noise.

Makyn jumped from his chair, whirling around to the doorway, expecting something ready to attack him- but there was nothing. With his heart beating as fast as the drums the men in Northwestville carried, he looked about at his stuff.

Hastily tossing what he had taken from his bag back, he prepared to leave.

SCCRATCH!

The sound made him jump again; he swore, looked about for something to defend himself with, and then took one of the swords off of the wall, before making for the door.

He peered into the corridor, making sure nothing was there, and then took his torch from the brack. Now he held aloft both the shining, pristine sword, and his crackling torch- raised in front of his face.

With a deep breath he moved back into the corridor, and then peered next into the entrance hall.

Nothing obvious stuck out to Makyn- nothing to show what made the sounds, in any case. Was it possible something fell within another room…? 

But that would mean something had to have moved that had not already moved in very many years- and there had not been any sudden tremors. As a boy growing up on the eastern shoreline, he had felt those tremors every so often.

So where did it come from

Could it have been-

SCCRATCH! The scraping was even louder now.

-... the stairwell?!

Something very loud, and very determined was dragging itself up the stairwell, seemingly scraping something of itself against the stone.

With his heart beating even louder in his ears now, he moved very quickly, but very cautiously, back to the inner double doors. As he moved past their frame, he pushed together the doors as fast as he could manage.

But just as the doors were closing shut, he swore he saw something grab onto the top step of the stairs...

-

Makyn ran out through the shattered outer doors, and as soon he hit the open air, he stopped to calm himself. It was late afternoon now; with his perch just outside, and the torch light, he watched the inner doors for any signs of a struggle against it.

Ten minutes passed, and nothing came about.

With a sigh of relief, he looked about at the courtyard- nothing changed. The sword he had picked up inside, on the other hand, now had a thin layer of rust covered the blade of the sword, and wear showed on its metal and wood carved handle. 

Whatever enchantment that was had held it in its pristine condition, was now broken - it was not to the extent, Makyn wagered, that should have been on a sword of this age without care.

Not that that mattered, it would be a simple matter to bring it back into tip-top shape, and now he had a free sword of old kingdom quality.

A chuckle then escaped his lips, before he fully gave in to laughter. He must have looked damned silly, running from the ruin at the first sign of danger.

Though it was time to go now, his first expedition to the ruin had been productive, and extremely interesting. This is what he had trained for, wasn’t it?

With one last look at the mountainside, he tossed the torch back into the entrance corridor, and put the rusty sword under his armpit (he had forgotten to grab a scabbard that was most likely still inside).

His heart and mind still racing from the events that had just befallen him, he departed from the courtyard, and made for his home as quickly as possible.

There was much, and much more to prepare.