The Ruins of Albez sit at the heart of what had once been a magical kingdom. Or perhaps a community of mages. Or an ancient citadel of—you know what? It doesn’t matter. There’s almost nothing left anymore to tell a visitor what it had been.
Once, this hillside of collapsed dirt and dug-out structures was something vast and incredible. When the first people found the Ruins of Albez, the records indicate that they noticed a dome of glass two hundred feet wide poking out of the ground. They dug down and found magical stone, entire wings of preserved libraries, and magical laboratories.
I feel like I’m in a different world. The worn-down room of the Runner’s Guild is a far cry from the grassy plains or the rubble and destruction of the Ruins of Albez. The woman raises her brows. This isn’t the one I recognize, by the by. This is a middle-aged woman with a frizzy shock of green hair in a stripe running through her brown hair. I think it’s not even a style; some people just have magical hair as part of their genetics.
“I might, might be willing to give this a try. I’ve wasted enough time in Liscor to see that the other teams aren’t organized. Charlez was brave—but he went in alone, with only his team for backup. The Horns of Hammerad and the Silver Spears together represent a large fighting force. If I throw in my team, we’d have a party big enough to challenge even the deeper parts of the Ruins of Albez.”
“You see, it’s not as if we’re hurting for money or jobs at the moment. There’s always work, and we can brave the Ruins of Albez for quite a profit most of the time. But it’s not sustainable in the long run.”
Ruins could potentially be sources of amazing wealth, like the Ruins of Albez where magical items were still hidden under the rubble. But sometimes ruins were just old.
“The Ruins of Albez are up north. They’re famous for well, being full of treasure. But most of it was cleaned out decades ago; adventuring teams can find something extremely valuable now and then, but it’s usually a fruitless effort.”
She looked up at the other two members of the Horns of Hammerad sitting around the small fire they’d built. The hazy smoke drifted up, a beacon to any monsters looking for a hot meal. Hopefully none would come; Ceria had tried to camp far enough away from the Ruins of Albez for that, but nasty surprises were always an adventurer’s concern.
At least they weren’t camping in the snow again. Ceria and Pisces had cleared the ground of the stuff, and it wasn’t snowing like it had last night. Normally Ceria would have liked to camp in a cave, but the Ruins of Albez were part of a natural depression in the ground far from any helpful mountains or hills. The ruined building had sunk into the earth, and so any normal group of adventurers planning to stay in the area for more than one day brought tents.
“A bit. Just the important details. Although to hear other people say it, you guys went into the Ruins of Albez and slaughtered every monster you saw until you found a treasure vault.”
It was the 38th time the Antinium had asked Pisces the question. Pisces knew that because he’d counted. Each time. They were sitting on a bumping wagon as it drove towards the Ruins of Albez. The mage blinked wearily as the dawn’s light hit his face.
