Large portions of the elven barracks and armory lay strewn about the crater made by the giant shard. The twins couldn't decide which to visit first, but seeing as it was Sniv's adventure, Rudd let her choose. They visited the barracks first. After considerable damage from the impact and plenty of sand erosion, the once-living space for military personnel was nothing but a partially sunk sleeping quarters.

Much of the beds and furniture were also swallowed up by the sand, whether whole or only partially. Even if everything was buried, that wouldn't stop Sniv and Rudd; using Godspeak: Earth, they were able to locate many items of interest. To their delight, they were able to dig up lock boxes and hidden caches of supplies. A quick chop to the lock with the side of their shovel was enough to open most of them. They didn't find anything extravagant: a few pieces of gold and silver, forgotten pieces of small jewelry, old papers that the duo couldn't read, and rations that had long since turned foul. Even the boxes and their locking mechanisms could be scraped for parts, too.

Sniv detected another potential payload in between one of the beds. After pushing the sand aside and striking something hard, they discovered the remains of a dead soldier. They both jumped back in disgust at the desiccated husk of an elf. Wordlessly, the twins looked back and forth between each other and the body. Even though they could see metallic glints coming from the tattered remains of its jacket, neither sibling wanted to touch the body or even venture near it. They silently agreed to cover up the body.

They then gave the area another cursory scan with Godspeak: Earth and found other similarly shaped objects buried even deeper beneath their feet. Rudd stopped counting after ten, then looked back at his sister, "I thought this place was abandoned first, then struck by the glass shard."

"Well... I guess not."

"S-sniv? How many people do you think—?"

"—Let's stick with what's half-buried, alright." She tightly gripped her brother's shoulder. Even though she was absolutely unnerved, Sniv didn't want her brother to get even more scared if she was afraid, too. They each took a moment to breathe before continuing their searches.

Rudd pawed through cabinets, discovering piles of shattered ceramic that had to have come from plates or tea cups. Thankfully, the ironware was mostly intact. They added a few goblets, spoons, knives, and forks to their growing pile of goodies. Sniv yanked open wardrobes, finding untouched uniforms from both regular soldiers and military officers; the higher the rank, the better the texture of the fabrics. Sniv rubbed her face into one of the coats. Compared to their scratchy burlap attire, the cotton feel was wonderful. Good fabrics also went for a lot of money, but those merchants, in particular, preferred them in rolls as opposed to loose pieces. Either way, loose clothing still fetched a price, but Sniv wanted to save one or two jackets to fashion some better clothes for her and her brother.

"Hey, uh, Sniv? Where are we going to put this all? We can't fit it all in our pockets, and making lots of trips back to the boat is going to wear us out,"

Sniv pondered until she looked back at the wardrobe she pulled the clothes out of—it was considerably deep, certainly deep enough to hold many things. Then, she was struck by inspiration. She used Godspeak: Earth to pull the wardrobe out of the sand and tip it over.

"Viola, temporary storage. We can fill this up, and then, with our combined powers, we can bring it back to the boat, offload it, and sail back to Aravenda."

While the idea was sound, Rudd did have a slight reservation, "That's good and all, but we'll be using up a lot of magic—"

"—It'll be fine," Sniv said as she tussled Rudd's burlap hood.

It was hard to push back against her enthusiasm. The two siblings filled the overturned wardrobe with the lockbox contents, clothes, metal dining ware, and other little knick-knacks that caught their attention. After a while, the two stripped the section of barracks clean of anything of value. "Ah, I'd say that's a good haul, don't you think so, Snivvy?"

She folded her arms and looked over their accumulated mass of items. Them and Merrow could easily live for the next week or so off this—if they stretched their money. Something deep down compelled Sniv to disagree, "Nope. We came all this way, and I want to make it worth the trip."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Sniv, it's already getting late. Merrow's probably awake—and steaming about us being gone."

"Like I said, we can apologize later. Let's check out that building over there!"

"What's left of it anyway..."

Sniv and Rudd both used their words of Godspeak to slowly pull the wardrobe across the sands and up to the armory. It seemed like this section took the brunt of the impact from the shard, not to mention the area was surrounded by more of the iron spires. They passed between two metal columns, coursing with electricity and giving off occasional sparks. The two goblins leaped into the barracks before another current struck either of them.

Once safely inside, they marveled at the weaponry scattered all over the floor and the ones that stubbornly stayed affixed to the walls. Swords, axes, spears, and polearms littered the room. Sniv immediately picked up a sword and proclaimed herself the fabled human: Alistair, the Dragonslayer. Caught up in the moment, Rudd picked up an axe and clashed with some of his sister's attacks. Their excitement came to a head when Rudd accidentally knicked Sniv's tail deep enough for her to start bleeding but not enough for it to be threatening.

"Sniv, I'm so sorry! Uh-uh...Here, let me patch that up." Rudd tore off part of his pant leg, evening it with the other. He tied it around the tip of Sniv's tail; he'd gotten quicker at mending her injuries throughout their childhood.

With the injury fresh on their minds, they began carefully collecting weapons and roughly appraising their values. Aside from cobweb residue, they were all in fantastic condition. Hardly a hint of rust or a dent could be seen. Any fighter worth their salt could put these weapons to good use, and they would surely pay premium prices for them being practically untouched.

If they had melee weapons, surely they might have firearms and ammunition tucked away somewhere. Those were big-ticket items after both elven nations banned the trading of guns decades earlier. They caught faint whiffs of gunpowder but couldn't identify any sources like a barrel or a crate. Then they noticed how ever so slightly darker the surrounding sand was; they guessed that the sudden impact from the shard must've burst open the gunpowder reserves, leaving a thin layer around the area. They exchanged worried looks on whether gunpowder-infused sand would ignite if struck by electricity.

"Sniv, I really don't feel comfortable being here anymore."

"Look, if these ruins have been like this for years and it hasn't already blown up, why worry?"

"L-let's just stow this into the wardrobe and head back to the ship—" Rudd caught a glimpse of the giant glass shard and swore that he saw something shift within it. He rubbed his eyes and turned away after glaring at all the shadows and etchings, realizing they weren't moving.

Sniv brushed off her brother's concerns as she dug for more trinkets. In a drawer, she stumbled across a wrapped dagger, a brooch, and a letter. After examining the knife and finding out it was of average quality and the letter was unreadable, she tossed both aside and gave her full attention to the brooch. The design was that of a strange-looking bug with wings; it was metal constructed out of iron with inlays of citrine and lapis lazuli.

Gemstones were a rare commodity in the Great Wasteland. They could easily hawk this for a month's provisions, but she wanted this all to herself. Aside from their clothes, goggles, and Sniv's wig, they didn't have much possessions. Whenever they couldn't make enough, they'd have to sell off what little trinkets they'd saved. It was unfortunate but something Sniv and Rudd got used to.

She fiddled with the brooch in her hands; maybe this could be the start of something good. She also wondered if creatures with vibrant wings like this actually existed or if it was mythical, like the stories she'd heard back at the Lounge. It seemed too small to have any kind of story to it; as she lingered on that thought, she felt the same about herself. She shook the creeping dread from her mind and clasped the brooch onto her wig. Maybe they could swing back to the Indigo Oasis and get a better look at her reflection.

Much to Rudd's appreciation, Sniv admitted she was satisfied with their haul. As they each gathered what they could carry, Rudd headed over to the window with his armful of swords. The blades attracted two arcs of electricity from the iron spires, shocking Rudd. He stumbled back onto the floor.

"Yeesh, forgot about them. Got you good, huh?" She nudged his shoulder, "Rudd? You okay?"

He didn't respond. Sniv shook him again. "Rudd?!" His heart was still beating, albeit at a slower pace, like his breathing—he was alive but unconscious. As she kept shaking, she heard powerful gusts off in the distance, along with sounds of shouting. She cautiously peered out the window, not wanting to get shocked like Rudd. The elves she'd overheard from the Lounge finally arrived, pulling up alongside their sand skimmer. She looked on in disbelief as the elves scuttled her and Rudd's only way back home.

Sparks started shooting off from a nearby iron column as she craned her neck out the window to get a better view. She'd forgotten that her brooch was made of metal; she jerked back just as the electricity jumped to her accessory. Sniv stumbled back, like her brother, thankfully not receiving as much of a shock. Her wig, on the other hand, was singed, and the brooch was scorching hot; the smell from the burnt hairs was unlike anything she'd smelled before. Between that and her surprised yelp, she was certain one of the elves had noticed her. They wouldn't be too happy that someone else got to this place before them.