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Pink Feather Day
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After the dust clears we can see we're in a large, mostly empty room with a long stairway leading up. There's not much here but some garbage and dirt.
"Ye gods, that was a little excessive. Could you try to preserve the structure? Besides this being a historical site, I'd rather not have the whole blasted place fall in on us."
"It worked didn't it?"
"Well, they can't chase us, so I guess we're good. Let's just try not to do that anymore."
The ruins are dark, cold and apparently stripped of anything valuable. I wonder why he's so interested in exploring them.
"Alright, old man. What's the deal here? This place looks gutted."
"Pfft... Looters only take what's easy to reach. I'm sure there's something of interest here. People don't go to the effort to build things like this, then abandon them for no reason. I want to find out why. War, pestilence, plague, giant monsters, swirling demonic hellportals. All kinds of possibilities. My name is Melgathander, by the way, you all can just call me Mel, for simplicity's sake."
"You're Melgathander? I read your book on the ruins of Garaf Tiras. It was rather interesting."
"Not as interesting as being there, I assure you, my boy. I've never seen so many rust monsters in one place. Armored warriors reduced to their underwear, hurling lances at zombies. Ridiculous, I tell you."
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