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Sheed'Alah



Chapter 1

NOTE: This is not finished.

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"Woah," Ben whistled in awe, coming to a tripping halt. Across the whispy dunes of Anardak, blocking the very rays of the moon, rose an immense titan of sand and stone, a walled metropolis perched atop a gigantic terraced pyramid. A single wide ramp directly ahead connected the many levels of Sheed'Alah, cutting all the way up to the sandstone gates of the main temple city. Along the ramp, and also at each corner of the pyramid, on each terrace, rose vicious pillars of flame from huge woven braziers, licking the dry night air furiously, outshining the stars.

"You expected less, infidel?" Turid waddled up next to him. "We keep things a bit more base around here, yes, but no less impressive than your cloud cities." Turid's voice carried the typical raspy tone of the nomads but was surprisingly deep for his miniscule stature; he was no taller than five foot. Such vertical impairment didn't seem a problem however, and his worn chainmail armor and the disproportionately long falchion sword dragging in the sand next to him would make anyone think twice about bothering him. He twisted his head and looked over his shoulder before kicking up a tuft of sand and continuing towards the maw of the beast, "It's near to midnight."

Thus was the time when the cities of the arid, northern Old World were the most active, for the blistering heat of day was far too crippling for traversing the desert or peddling fruits.

"Halt!" Came a voice from one of the two towers as Ben and Turid arrived at the bottom of the great ramp. Each step of the terrace had its own gate and guard towers, temporary wooden structures, paling in comparison to the great marble spires guarding the main gate at the top, but formidable nonetheless. A crescent symbol above the vertical timbers of the gateway identified this post as the Moon Gate. A guard stepped forward and looked Ben up and down. He looked much like Turid, much like all of the desert people for that matter, but he was a good foot taller and wore a golden medallion rather than an emerald one like Ben's runty companion. He pointed at the ground in front of him. "Gun. Hat."

Ben turned to Turid in appeal.

"Drop them, you'll get them back. My people are good at keeping track of things that aren't theirs, else they might lose their fingers."

Ben reluctantly pulled off his tall cavalry hat and let it flop to the ground. With a bit more reverence, he pealed his rifle-strap from his shoulder and laid the attached weapon down in the sand, cringing at the thought of wandering dust infiltrating the barrel. Turid raised his medallion to emphasize his position, and the guard nodded to him and then to the men leaning on the gate, signaling them to heave it open.

Like the moon is the passageway to the stars, so too was the Gate of the Moon. All of the gates past it were named after stellar counterparts. There was Altir, Ursus, Toln, Nevir, Dulid, and Neksehuk. At each the unlikely pair was subjected to similar security checkpoints until finally they walked under the portcullis at the top, entering a new universe.

Sheen'Alah was as busy and bustling as the desert was desolate. The ramp leading to the city immediately gave way to three cobbled streets inside her walls, one running straight forward and one slanting off to each side. The side streets appeared to be relatively crowdless but the largest street, the one shooting straight into the city core, was congested with carts, pedestrians, and merchants selling all sorts of good from mobile stalls. Beyond, above the jagged line of rooftops in the distance, loomed the tremendously mighty Ten Ziggurats, watching and protecting the city. Like on the terraced walls outside, there were giant braziers mathematically placed throughout the dusty urban landscape, their flames visible over the tops of all but the tallest buildings.

Oddly, no one gave Ben a second glance as he followed Turid down the street to the left. He had expected at least some dirty looks, maybe some spit, but the ragged people of the city didn't even seem to recognize him in his blue uniform as a member of the Confederate Army. "Maybe it's not that surprising," Ben though as he walked under a tall sand-colored arch. 'We're far, far from the front."

Finally the road reached the eastern corner of the city, opening into a courtyard rimmed with palm trees and fed by a pond in the middle where a dozen women were either washing children or watering mules. Beyond, on the very edge of the pyramid, stood another terraced structure, seemingly a model of the one upon which it stood. Two sets of stairs ran up each side, with each level hosting a dozen doors.

Turid stopped and motioned towards the top of the building. "Go, seek an audience. I will be here again in an hour."