Long years have passed since everything fell apart. The landscapes have changed, the animals now twisted and mutated beyond recognition. Humans, once the rulers, condemned to live what little life they had as scuttering little mice. For the few who still remained, a natural curiosity started to grow once more. Where did their ancestors take shelter and survive whilst everything around wished for nothing but their death? For a time, this could be nothing but a question, no action to be taken. Leaders came and went before one decided to pursue the answer. The place humans have taken as their own was becoming too small for their growing population. The newest leader gathered and trained many warriors to go survive and explore the new wild, unruly world.

In all there were only five groups, seven members each, that were deemed capable of living out in the dangers beyond the walls of their home. The groups, once outside the walls of Sariv, split into different directions. Three went out to land, two towards the open water. Sariv was surrounded by dense forest, oftentimes high-pitched shrieks could be heard wafting above the lush plants. The weather often changed drastically without warning, one of the many dangers. One second the sun shines with both pride and warmth, the next the skies turn dark and angry. Towards the sandy coast, the waters appeared clear, although choppy due to the gentle winds whistling past to the east. With the wind came a strong salty sea breeze.

Each group was given a different seal, the reason was for the likely chance of dying before they could be found and rescued. If the seals were found, it was likely the people were no longer there, or resting where the seal lays. The groups who seeked to traverse the land encountered nothing more than bearly beasts, oftentimes unwilling to let the people pass without harm. In the end only nine of the original land crew remained, with three later passing from both loss of hope and injuries. Those who took to the sea on the other hand were given slightly better luck. While one of the two groups was lost to the waves, the other found what may be an answer to their mission. After days drifting on unpredictable waters, waiting to swallow them up should a storm turn their small, amatuer built ship, did they sail their way to an old, decrepit dock. The crew, once drained of any thought, now are filled with excitement at the possibility of finding something lost to time.

They sailed their ship slowly to the coast, once landed did they realize it was completely cut off from everything else. A mountain range had cropped up, closing around a small area only opening up to the great crystal blue expanse. Within the distorted waves of heat rising from the sun touched sands lay ruins. The crumbled buildings seemed to whisper a somber welcome, long since these walls and paths had been tended to. Vines curled through fences and around pillars, some holding structures in their place. Centered in the middle was a rather large garden, or at least what used to be one. Over the years the strange, colorful plants have reclaimed the area as their own. Following the cracked, broken path past the circular flowered garden was a giant hall, adorned with many ornaments, many cracked or shattered.

Inside the hall lay tiles, many with gilded edges, footsteps echoed against the faded walls. The entrance led up to a grand staircase which split to two sides, something you'd typically see in a building of such stature. In the middle lay what looks like to be a display, upon closer look you'll find it is not. Crystal spikes, glistening in what little light showed through the tattered roof, jutted from the ground, cutting ragged holes in the fabric of an ancient rug. Being held by skewer-like spikes was the skeleton of a great serpent. The skeleton hangs loosely, close to falling to the floor since the flesh that held its place there had long been rotted away. On the floor in front of it lay papers colored with age, it's a wonder they still hold their shape. On the sheets was a strange language, or perhaps runes? No one could tell, they've never seen the like before. Mixed with it were pieces of white, broken porcelain. The pieces were too small to tell what it was a part of.

Scuffling started to sound from the landing at the top of the stairs. The crew decided to put their worries behind them, thinking it was merely a small creature running around. They continued their search of the place, some going back outside to look for artifacts in the smaller houses. They spent a good few days there, trying to see if there was anything they could recognize something that they had in their own home, unfortunately such a thing wasn't found. A survey of their ship, making sure nothing was damaged, and once more set out on their voyage home.

Over the weeks to months spent on the boat, the team noticed some things mysteriously went missing. Ration sheets wouldn't match what was in store, tools were moved out of place, water could even be seen trailing to random spots on the ship, and yet nothing could be found. Did something stow away on their ship while they were surveying the newfound city or was a shipmate just playing tricks? In the end they never did get a clear answer, they returned home greeted with warm welcomes and relieved expressions. The seal given to their ship quickly became tradition to put on fishing ships for good luck. Those who lived to see home again went through the rest of their lives with great ease and comfort

[The end got sloppy, I just kinda wanted to move on from this]

#h-fn