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Monday, July 9, 2012

Grinwallin in Ruin



The eastern edge of the plateau gave way to a steep incline and there Grinwallin perched, partly on the mountain, mostly within the ancient rock. The incline was the first of many as the plateau marched into sharp and hostile mountains. The mountains were bare, dark rock, forbidding and dangerous and seemingly without a way through to the ocean beyond, although there were pockets of forest nestled in folds further in, those currently inaccessible. Hemming the ruined city was impenetrable forest and it, too, was dark and sinister. It circled up the sharp rise into the inclines beyond, making any approach from north, south and east a daunting task. Another army could lose itself amid the trees. Massive cloud formations hid hostile peaks; it appeared as if the heavens brooded deliberately.
Height, precipice, forest and ancient rock: Grinwallin was a private and mysterious place.
Who built this fortress?
The city was of epic proportion and what was visible outside was but a portion of the delved halls within the mountain. Caltian’s estimation to Camot back in the wilderness was off target; the walls were not two men high, they were closer to ten, and may have exceeded that once, given the evidence of fallen stone, and were a minimum of five feet thick. The ruins spread across the entire incline, four, five sals wide, and rose up in tiers for two sals at its lengthiest incline before vanishing into the ancient rock. Within, investigated later, were halls, caverns, stairs and ramps many sals in, delved deep. Ancient pools of icy water supplied the city’s needs and great halls with lofty ceilings were supported by marvellously wrought pillars of stone.
Grinwallin was once a huge city and could support hundreds of thousands with ease, and under siege, perhaps as many as a million.
The company, first to Grinwallin proper in a thousand years, stood awed at the foot of ancient, worn stairs that led up to a colossal arch in the lower wall. Crossing the plateau they speculated about what happened here, but now all were mute, overcome by the size and age of what lay before them. The arch still balanced on two gigantic pillars and huge silver hinges hung askew on either side. The remains of rotten wood lay below, proving a once imposing gate system. Drawing reverent breaths, they commenced the climb to the entrance of the forgotten city.
Out of breath at the top, they halted. Turning to face the way they came they were astonished by the panoramic view. It was certainly not easy to approach unseen…and the thought caused them to hastily face the city. It did feel as if they were being watched.
The arch was wide enough for fifty walking abreast. Stepping through, Torrullin noticed a slot between the pillars and in the shadows discerned iron spikes; a portcullis to protect the great gates, perhaps from battering rams. Why all this fortification, if not for war? Once people had died at these gates, fighting on a narrow stair ledge against wood, iron and stone, and whatever was thrown from above.
They startled a flock of birds and pounding hearts were first settled before they ventured further. It was huge, on a scale few built in the present. Grinwallin was of a whole, not cobbled bits; it was not growth that had caused size over time. There were no skyscrapers, nothing to suggest technology; everything reeked of antiquity and the terrain was as much the city as was the spectacular view. Grinwallin was like a Valleur sacred site; built of power to tap power to be power, but on a scale no Valleur site ever was. It was staggeringly solid and no modern city planners could afford to build in this way; the cost would cripple governments.
It was evident there was once numerous levels, abodes one above the other. Old stairs led to levels four storeys removed, but the upper levels were for the most part roofless with broken walls. Chambers on the lower floors were still relatively intact. Grinwallin appeared reparable, if one had the wealth to do so. Shrubs and trees grew in door lintels, out of unglazed windows, in cisterns and in ancient guttering. On the upper levels forest seeds had formed sapling gardens. Creepers crept down interior and exterior walls, and bright flowers peeped shyly out of crevices in the paved ways. Flowers, Caltian remarked in a hushed tone, found nowhere else on Atreidi. Lizards and geckoes ran skittishly from the intruders and a variety of birds were inadvertently disturbed, from majestic eagles to the tiny forest dwellers. The latter made the overwhelming presence of Grinwallin bearable. It meant it had been abandoned a long time ago. And it caused old ruins to be pretty and tranquil.


Glittering Darkness





(Petra: inspiration for Grinwallin)

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