NationStates Jolt Archive

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Ancient History of the Desert of Kadron

The Desert of Kadron in far southern Aerion was called the "cradle of southern Aerionian civilization" by the Royal Archaeological Society of Aerion. It was not known by many how this was the cradle of ancient southern Aerionian civilization. What was known of the desert was that it was the only "true" desert in Aerion, far removed from the normal geography and climate of the other regions of Aerion. When the peoples of Aerion were nomadic tribes, and even far before then the desert was home to a unique culture that could truly to be unique among all of the tribes. While most of the twenty major tribes that are well known today in Aerion's history, this was far back in the days of wandering clans and much smaller tribes. The desert had been one of the only "kingdoms" to form in ancient Aerion. The capital of this ancient kingdom was Vasu'Nen. The people were known as the Vasug. Their relative isolation from the wandering clans and tribes of the plains allowed them to flourish into a kingdom, and was helped that they had one of the most bloodthirsty reputations. The Vas'gi desert warriors of Vasug as was sometimes said would slaughter entire clans that wandered into their territory. Rumors of blood sacrifice spread over the southern tribes of ancient Aerion, and ensured that no one even approached the desert of Kadron or the kingdom of the Vasug. So little was known at the time of the Vasug archaeologists say because they spoke a different language than the widespread root language of the southern Aerionians, and were extremely isolationist. The bloodthirstiness of the Vas'gi no doubt increased this sense of mystery.

Then one day the lands to the north of Vasug became quiet, and no wandering Vas'gi warrior bands patrolled the borders of their kingdom. Slowly the southern Aerionian tribes, and clans grew curious. They wandered into the foothills of Kadron, and beyond into the kingdom. What they found there was unprecedented in ancient Aerionian history....

They found the capital of the Vasug kingdom empty and devoid of life. One of the only cities in ancient Aerion, the capital of the only formed kingdom, had been abandoned. The clans that discovered this proceeded to loot the capital, and the streets. The wealth they found was grand, but that is for other history.

The southern Aerionian clans attempted to wander into the deeper desert of Kadron, but their lack of ability in finding the route over the desert and the oasis that marked it caused many deaths, and they turned back. After that, no southern Aerionian tribe would venture beyond the ancient city, and the Erkuan Mountains to the west of the desert blocked any passage into the desert from the west. The city of Vasu'Nen itself began to acquire a reputation of being "cursed" as it was a ghost town, and no one even ventured that far into the desert any longer.

Over time, the desert was lost and forgotten to all but scholars who sought to study it. The southern Aerionian tribes ignored it, and it had acquired that whispered sinister legendary status. As well it was a desert, and so presumably had no use to anyone.


Modern Times

As Aerion modernized, helicopters and planes charted the desert of Kadron as best they could, but it was simply considered a geographic interest. Political turbulence in Aerion once again found the desert of Kadron abandoned, with little interest until this later period. In the Modernization period, as Aerion modernized completely, and ceased being a "third world country" the developed society allowed to have such growing professions as archaeologist.

A resurgence in archaeological interest occurred during the Modernization period, as newly trained archaeologists and historians were pouring from the new universities all across Aerion. They would study the more ancient tribes, and clans of Aerion as well as various unusual ruins that seemed to predate these tribes and showed some ordered civilizations in some areas of Aerion.

In this time they ventured into the ancient city of Vasu'Nen, remarkably preserved. They began to study the culture, and society of the Vasug. They found that the civilized culture for that time in ancient Aerion had had an influence on the southern Aerionian tribes in the form of trade goods, and occasionally it seems more friendly Vasug travelers that traveled north. They found there was no trade route, but it seems some less violent and isolationist Vasugs on the borders of the kingdom had traded with the southern Aerionian tribes. What they also found surprised, and mystified them. Symbols, and religious artifacts that could be tied all the way to the ancient Aerionian tribal religions in eastern, and northern Aerion but these gods so far as evidence presented could not be found among southern Aerionian tribes. Unlike the northern and eastern ancient Aerionian tribes, however, it appeared that these gods were part of an organized religion in the Vasug kingdom with dedicated priests, not just tribal shamans. This led the archaeologists to consider an puzzling fact, that perhaps wandering Vasug priests could have carried their religion all the way to the northern, and eastern tribes in ancient Aerion. That perhaps, in fact, the Vasug religion had been the source of Old Aerionian Religion, and the names of the ancient Aerionian gods in the unified tribal religion that had been spreading among these many clans, and tribes.

What they also found disturbed them even more. They found evidence in ancient drawings that sacrifice was practiced in the kingdom of the Vasug, along side and perhaps as part of the organized religion that had been the source of the Old Tribal Religion. In the pictures hundreds of people were shown being dragged from the city, into the desert with blades. Images of sacrifice on some altar was shown, but no sacrificial temple could be found in the city itself or the ruins of the villages across the desert. They tried to examine further, but the paper or parchment used by the Vasug's had decayed long ago, and all that was engraved in stone were runes. The shifting sands of the huge sand dunes of the desert had not helped their studies either, with many ancient Vasug villages, and perhaps even cities buried beneath the sands. Expeditions were made even more difficult by the unusually high winds that swept across the desert, up to 200 mph, with incredibly dangerous random dust storms. This made flying over the desert at anything but high enough altitude to avoid them dangerous, and landing as well.

Archaeological expeditions into the deeper desert were just getting started, when dictator Erne Morn rose to power. In a remarkable statement, Erne Morn declared the entire desert an restricted area, and gave authority of it over to the military. What was later found was that the desert would be used as an secret weapons testing ground, the records of such are still classified or lost.

When the monarchy of the first kingdom years rose to power, the area was still off-limits because of presumed health risks associated with the weapons testing that had occurred in the deserts. Despite the huge vastness of the desert, all of the desert was considered an restricted area with potential health hazards. In an unusual act, however, King Wasterin II declared a seemingly empty part of the deep desert encompassing some of the largest dunes an Royal Wilderness Preserve, but still an restricted area. No one knew exactly why he did this.

When the fascist government rose, political events occurring across Aerion again prevented people from noticing this region as well as the fear of the health hazards associated with possible radiation levels as well. The area was still protected by the military, with barbed fences and guards blocking the easiest passages including the military roads built during the dictatorship of Erne Morn.

When the monarchy rose to power once again, King Wasterin X the most former head of state once again reinforced the Royal Wilderness Preserve in the deep desert, and due to "health hazards" as well as radiation levels let it remain a restricted area with the Royal Aerionian Army still maintaining the fences, and soldiers that enforced the restriction.


(( OOC: SEE OOC THREAD TO JOIN http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=12381423#post12381423))

University of Jonensberg, Kulikovia

It was another fall day on campus. Students rushed across the grounds going to their next class. The leaves were amber, red, and yellow as a gentle wind blew through and leaves began to dance in the wind. The buildings were old, but renevated and kept in good order. It was a prestigious institution where the smartest and most expressive of young adults go to further themselves in a number of fields. The History Department was one of the elite departments of campus. Dr. Johannes Kruger was a professor in Ancient Cultures and taught the subject for the better part of twenty years. Before that, he traveled the world, collecting antiques and dabbling in archaeology at ancient sites abroad and at home. Now, he was in his late fifties, hair nearly all gray and now used a cane to help him get around. The students loved him due to his unique and admirable teaching styles. His classroom discussions were hands on as he funded field trips across the country for his students. The faculty also respected him and admired his talent. Now, his days of traveling abroad in search of ancient treasures and scriptures were over, the effects of old age preventing him from carrying on.

Now, his son took up this charge. Wolfgang Kruger was in his early thirties and a dashing figure, almost identical to what his father once looked like. Wolfgang was athletic, having once been on the university swim team. He was tall, lean and some would say a rougish figure. Some people liked him, he was for the most part nice, a joker and charasimatic like his father, but others couldn't get past his protective outter layer of emotions which shielded him from most people, much has happened to him and he acts distant to others at times, work helps to take his mind off his demons. Though, his eyes were blue, like taht of his mothers'. He went to the same university his father teaches at, and even took some classes under his instruction. father and son would so together on some of the expeditions as Johannes tutored Wolfgang in everything he knew. Wolfgang had an insatiable appetite for knowledge and adventure. He was on the swim team and athletic. He owned his own antiques trading company. He would go around and find all sorts of items and sell them. Other people would give him certain items and sell them. Wolfgang had many connections in such a field. He even gave some items to his father to use in his teachings. One day, Wolfgang walked through the campus, having just delivered an ancient vase to his father, after they talked for a time he departed, he had alot of work to do and little time to do it. His cellphone rang out through his coat pocket.
"Hello?" he asked as he continued to walk down the walkways.
"Wolfgang...I need you to come back to my office. It's very important" his fathers familiar and aging voice replied.
"I'll be right there" and he snapped the phone shut, briskly walking back to his father's office. It was filled with bookcases, a chestnut desk and other items which gave it a victorian feel.
"What's the matter?" Wolfgang asked, concerned that something was wrong.
"I'm alright" he replied, reaching inside his drawer and pulling out a letter and setting it on the desk "I recieved a letter today, one which should interest you"
Wolfgang opened the letter and read it "But it's for you" he said as he set the letter down.
"Wolfgang, I'm too old to be galavanting across the world nowadays. I already sent an email back to this man. You'll be going in my place. Whatever artifact they want to be found. You can help find it" his father said as he sat back. The two of them continued to talk about the subject for a half hour. His father finally convinced him to go in his stead. Wolfgang walked out of the office not knowing what he was going to get himself into.

The Letter

From: Professor Esjon Divar
To: (Those it was secretly to)

Written in cofidence, utmost secrecy required.

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am currently recruiting for an archaelogical and research expedition to the desert of Kadron in southern Aerion. This is an dangerous, but potentially very fruitful endeavour. We are being sponsored by an wealthy Aerionian businessman, who wishes to remain unnamed. I have enclosed some of the known history of this desert.

The pay for this mission, if successful, will be A£200,000 each. This seems high, but our sponsor truly wants this to be a success. Even without success, we will each receive A£50,000 for our efforts.


Due to the secrecy of this project, please keep all communications with utmost discreteness. I have put on here a number you may reach me at. Please consider bringing standard camping equipment for a desert environment, as well as any tools you may have. Pack lightly.

Yours truly,
Professor Esjon Divar

Michiko took one last look at the letter, then tucked it away into the pocket of the lightweight photographers vest she wore over comfortable, but very stylish, travellling clothes.

Jeeves hefted her trio of duffel bags and carried them out to the waiting Maybach Exelero II. They contained most every thing she needed and he set them carefully into the trunk as Marcel, the chauffer, opened the passenger door for her.

"And how long will you be gone this time Doctor Jones?" He asked in semidismayed resignation, something he was very skilled at conveying with both look and tone.

"Only a few months. The Board knows my thoughts on anything that might come up, and I will keep in contact." Michiko said firmly. If Jeeves had his way she'd never leave the estate grounds. But he didn't rule here, she did. She let Marchel hand her in with a quiet "Marcel to the Areoport. Please"

Ari read the letter for the last time, memorising it line by line. Taking a deep breath, she flicked the cigarette lighter, and watch as the flames enveloped it, a thin coat of ash raining onto the plank floor.
She didn't know why she'd done it. What did she have to hide? Something about the letter had made her edgy though- almost as if it was something illegal. She was glad when it was gone.

Christopher Galloway had just woken up and rolled out of bed. He put on his slippers shuffling to the kitchen where he took a large bowel from the cubbards, he then reached on the door beside where he got the bowel taking out a box of Cheerio's pouring nearly half the box into his bowel. After he got the milk he poured about 3 quarters of it into the cerial, this was Chris's every day morning routine.....

He mixed the bowels contents around and carried it towards the door opening it, it was a beautiful day outside, the smell of freshly cut grass was in the air. Chris looked in his mailbox to see some letters and bills, he brought them in the house and sat at the table while he ate his food...

"Cell bill, internet....some stupid sweep stakes offer...whats this?"

He set down his spoon and tore open the side of an envolope, it was from a Professor Esjon Divar...?

The letter read...

From: Professor Esjon Divar
To: Mr. Christopher Galloway

Written in cofidence, utmost secrecy required.

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am currently recruiting for an archaelogical and research expedition to the desert of Kadron in southern Aerion. This is an dangerous, but potentially very fruitful endeavour. We are being sponsored by an wealthy Aerionian businessman, who wishes to remain unnamed. I have enclosed some of the known history of this desert.

The pay for this mission, if successful, will be A£200,000 each. This seems high, but our sponsor truly wants this to be a success. Even without success, we will each receive A£50,000 for our efforts.


Due to the secrecy of this project, please keep all communications with utmost discreteness. I have put on here a number you may reach me at. Please consider bringing standard camping equipment for a desert environment, as well as any tools you may have. Pack lightly.

Yours truly,
Professor Esjon Divar

Chris nodded slowly and took a mouthful of cerial,

"Humphh....sounds good to me"

A purebred Doberman puppy came running out of the living room wagging his tail excitedly,

"Hey buddy, daddy's gotta go away for afew days..i'll leave you with the Annie, she's a pretty lady isn't she..yes!"

He rubbed the puppys head and smiled, this dog had become his closest friend and they always spent time together when Chris was home. Annie was the sexy blonde who adored the puppy and took care of him when Galloway was away on contracts, it was evident they had a thing for one another but no one ever made a move..it was a weird relationship.

Chris finished up his breakfast and put the dog outside then headed down to the basement to get some things ready, he went to the far side of the room and opened a small hole in the wall near the floor where he removed a large black duffel bag. Inside were his weapons of choice,

"Alright...Glock.18...H&K USP.45.."

He took both of the handguns out wrapped up in cloth setting them on the floor beside him,

"The desert..." he said to himself

Chris dug farther in the compartment removing a wooden box nailed shut, he reached up on the tool bench gripping a crow bar, he pulled the top of the box open and inside was an all black AK108, attachments included laser sights, 4X scope, and a bipod...

"Perfect"

Chris packed his tactical desert attire with extra ammunition, army rashions, night vision, repelling gear and personal items like, deoderant, shampoo, soap, razor, a change of desert cammo, sox, toothbrush with toothpaste. All nessasary items were brought upstairs and set on the kitchen floor, Galloway booked his private flight for that afternoon. Annie came over and got buster, the puppy, they chatted for afew minutes, smiled, flirted a bit then she left like always..Chris often thought of what it would be like to have a woman in his life, but it just wouldn't work.

Galloway locked up the house then went outside, waved to a neibour mowing his lawn across the street and stopped in front of the garage door pressing the open button on his car keys. The door slowly opened revealing a Hummer H1 in metallic grey, Chris pushed a second button on his keys turning the vehicle on..

**VROOOOOM** It roared to life..

Galloway tossed his bag in the back, put on his seatbelt then pushed a CD into the deck, My Michelle by Gunz & Roses blasted through the speakers, Galloway sped out of the driveway swung a left gunning it down the street headed for the airport.

Ari slammed the boot shut with an clatter, and got in. It was still early, and fairly cool, luckily for her- the air conditioning had been broken when she'd got the car. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine revved up, then died. She tried again. It revved up again- but suddenly it cut out. She swore darkly under her breath.
It was too early to call anyone out- dawn had only just broken. She got out, and looked at the car. It was a wreck. Even she admitted it- she'd got it free- the owner hadn;t wanted to pay to junk it. Deep down, she;d always known the car couldn't last forever- but today of all days. "****"
She walked over and took the lid off the bonnet, but a dark cloud of acrid black smoke hit her in the face. Beneath, it was just a web of oily wires.
There was only one thing for it- she would have to walk and get the bus.

Once they were on the main road and well away from the estate Michiko had Marcel pull over, which he did with a wry smile. He knew that she loved to drive the massively powerful Exelero II, and didn't often get to. Once they had switched places Michiko looked back and requested that he make a call for her "Tell the boys to load the trunks marked FTOne through Five into the plane for me. I emailed the flight plan in two hours ago so everything should be ready for take off when we get there. If not, Marcel, deal with it!"

With that she pulled the Exelero II and let it do what it was designed to do, which was go fast, very very fast. Michiko whooped as the needle spun up to nearly two hundred and the countryside was whipping past in a blur.

"Michiko, we just past a police car." Marcel informed her blandly, his voice unworried.. He well knew that the local squad cars couldn't keep up, much less catch up.

Michiko chuckled evilly, and once around a sharp bend hit the brakes savagely. Marcel winced as the car nearly left the road but she managed to keeping the car from doing what she didn't want it to do. Then he braced himself as Michiko whiped the car down a narrow, mostly over grown lane. He was a better driver than she but didn't quite have the brazen cool she did. The cop car whizzed past to futilely seek the black blur that had jetted past it moments before.

Half an hour later, driving much more sedately, Michiko turned into the entrance of the private airport.

Secret instructions were sent to fly into the capital city Ajasanon of the province of Eklar, one of Aerion's southernmost provinces. Ajasanon had an International Airport. The rendezvous point indicated was the "Bright Light Hotel" and an address was scribbled

Bright Light Hotel
606 Rakeui Street
Industrial District
Ajasanon, EK
Grand Kingdom of Aerion


Ajasanon was, like other provincial capitals of Aerion, an rather large megacity with multiple layers of buildings with criss-crossing roadways sometimes twenty to thirty stories up. It was one of the poorer cities of Aerion relatively speaking, being in the south but on the western side of Aerion. There were numerous factories of the many Aerionian megacorporations, and more than one part of Ajasanon had shanty towns of the poor who fell out of the corporate system.

The International Airport was in the more wealthy and middle class suburbs to the north of Ajasanon, but the rendezvous point indicated was in the inner city on the southern side of the city. One would be able to see the economic disparity in Aerion on the trip across the city, passing from the northern suburbs with their wealthy gated enclaves, malls, and such to the rather luxurious commercial and residential central district, where the unusually large domed Governor's Palace was on a Forum. As most Aerionian cities had originally been built in the Roman style with some Arabic architectural influences (only in appearance), the historical districts were well maintained by money. The huge marble Governor's Palace was built in an more Persian and Arabic style in this province, and towered over the streets with one large distinctive dome. The gate around it with military guard indicated the Governor here was conscious about security, perhaps unnecessarily so. Bright spotlights shined on the Palace at night. Many people in suits could be seen walking through the Forum in front of the Governor's Palace, as this was also a business district with very wealthy corporate offices.

Then one would pass into the industrial district, passing the huge multi-level factories where the highway would actually pass through a factory such was their size. Passing several shanty towns, into an very ratty looking part of the city, one would find 606 Rakeui Street off of the highway, a lower roadway on ground level.

Most cars were smart cars, self-driving with automated navigation. They were not "A.I." in that sense, but had very advanced GPS, and navigation systems that connected to the Automated Transportation Systems. Flatscreens were notably everywhere in most places. Many people carried mobile digital devices, which were commonplace. These included all digital functionality cellular, live streaming TV, wireless connectivity, and many of the more expensive ones were solely touchscreen. They mostly could only access corporate wireless networks or business-related, there was no public "Internet" in Aerion but mainly private networks for business related only or government. There were mobile digital devices available for a price that could access overseas networks, email, even TV not available on the public channels, and Internet through a satellite though they were fairly expensive. These were mostly used by the corporate executives, wealthy, and government officials.

Ari walked out of the airport into the fresh air.To her suprise, she was in a shadow- a very big shadow.She couldn't believe what she saw. Looking up, she could see towering skyscrapers, and roads intercrossing high into the clouds. For once, she felt small.
Realising she was drawing attention to herself, and gaping like an idiot, she hurriedly looked around for road signs, or a taxi queue. Seeing them, she walked over, glad she'd remembered to get some money exchanged.

The metropolis whizzed past her, as the car zoomed on. When she looked out sometimes she could see the whole city below her, people the size of pinheads- other times, she had to lean out and look up to see parts of the massive buildings.
At first the buildings were lavish and impressive- tall cast iron gates and marble pillars, with large fresh green expanses of grass. Slowly though, the buildings changed.
Soon she could see the mix-matched houses, some lop-sided, tilted to one side as if almost falling. The tall grey factory towers loomed high, belching out dark black clouds of smoke. All the buildings were blackened from the smoke, making it even darker and more opressive. Outside, the people hurried past, their faces gaunt and hardened from years of work and squallor. Ari felt guilty, having spent on a taxi what they probably earnt in a week.
Suddenly, the taxi screeched to a halt. Ari was jerked back in shock.
"This is it miss, the Bright Light Hotel." called back the driver.
"Thanks." she said, a little hesitantly, looking around at the surrounding factory towers, and the soot-stained, old-looking blocks of flats.
Quickly, she grabbed her bag, paid the driver and jumped out. She wondered if she'd got the right place. It wasn;t that she objected to the idea of staying in the area, but it suprised her that such a high reward archaeological trip would be staying here.
She took one last look outside, then headed for the door of the hotel.

The year old Boeing 478-8, wearning the ominous black, gold and blood crimson livery of the most feared name in security and anti terrorist operations in the Empire, rolled down the tarmac and took off smoothly. The Omega and crossed lightning bolts (http://www.atddm.com/omega2.jpg) gleamed on the tail fin in the bright morning light. In the forward conference room twenty five men and women, two full teams and an operations manager sat waiting for their boss's arrivea. As they waited they passed around high quality, high resolution hard copy survellence satallite photos, 'normal ' spectrum, UV, and infrared.

"We'll be able to keep track of her. I've inserted multiple GPS transponders in various peices of gear and the one she carried internally was tested just last week." The operation manager, one Black Jack Thompson, grimmaced, given the conditions of the terrains their bood'd be in the signals wouldn't be as clear as he would have liked however.

"We have the generally available intel on their military and we're goiing through contacts for their more classified data, State is working with us for that. Just a little pay back for favors they owe us. We'll have 'next plus' access to their sigint, so we'll lag a little on their military, but not by much." Blak Jack added.

"I've arragned for six a day pass over. Falcon base reports suscessfull launch of three NIRTS Sat's with one hundred eighty day lives. I will have continuous download of the entire area that she'll be in. Some of the extreme edges will be a little fuzzy, but we had to put thim high enough that Aerion can't scream infringement. And we'll be getting feed of every thing it passes over, so they can't say that we're targeting them " The senior analyst's , Claudia, smile was cold.

Omega II knew what it was doing, and how to conduct surveillence in such a manner as to not draw attention and to forestall any objections. And the small, highly stealthed - in this configuration at leasst - satallites most likely would never be noticed. They were one of Tanara's most common exports and every one used them, they were cheeap, reliable and easily modified for every thing from allowing a college class to track a typhoon, to letting a presidential security force track a motorcade in real time.

"I have arragnements in place for local assets - both rotary and fixed wing. And another of the 8's will be bringing in some Bowler wildcats incase we have to go in on the ground. If we end up with any left in useable condition Michiko wants me to done nate them to the local searcdh and rescue community." Jon, their lead scout mentioned but before he could say more, Michiko joined them.

"Yes, and do try an be sure that they are still in useable condition." Michiko grinned as she took her place at the head of the table. "Now reservations have bee secured at one of the better business hotels for you all. I know none of you like the suit brigade, but you are my cover so you all need to be visiting all the corporations that might be interested in our security services, and don't forget the Governer too. Omega can always use the business."

That made them all laugh, for Omega II had all the business it could handle, but new contracts never hurt and bringing in contracts brought bonuses.

Michiko's voice went very firm, she knew to lay down the law to her people from the first. Her operators were gung ho, and loyal. All had come from various nation's special forces and were- in more than just her opniion - the best of the best, and they knew it. That could cause problems at times. "And every one be nice and polite and conform to the local carry laws. No indicents. I'm here for a vacation not to start a war, they seem to be nice people and don't you all dare bully any one! Be discrete!"

"Now lets get down to final planning." She stated as a steward brought around plates of thick hearty sandwiches and poured iced tea sprigged with fresh mint.

Four hours later Michiko sent every one off for a nap and sat by herself pouring over the maps and satallite images. In her minds eye she saw her father's excited face and smiled to herself "Yes Dad, I'm off hunting again. And no plan is ever final!"

She headed off to the bedrrom that filled the space that would normally be first class. There a lanky Aghan hound (http://cache.eb.com/eb/image?id=28814&rendTypeId=4) rose slowly from his round bed and came over for some ear scratching. "Ready for another adventure Rox?" Michiko touseled his soft feathery fur, as she curled up on the queen sized bed and prepared to doze for a bit. Rox, spoiled as ever ,hopped up beside her, sliding his long narrow nose under her hand so she could pet him somemore. It was just his due.

The shabby hotel on 606 Rakeui Street looked like at one time it had been perhaps an business hotel, or even a luxury one but in the ever quickly expanding mega-cities of Aerion many of the areas built with older building materials quickly became ran down in industrial areas. It was once built in what some would call in some countries 1920s style, though was now no longer stylish at all. It was no longer Bright, or Light with the flickering dim lights in the lobby. The once fine carpet was now roughly fringed.

An eighty year old gray haired Eastern Aerionian man stood behind the worn wooden desk, reading an magazine.

A huge crash was succeeded by consumnate cursing, and Jan Wilhelm Nachmann looked up from his papers with a bewildered glance, his eyes comically magnified by the high-strength pince-nez he was wearing.

Senior Archivist Aldani stood five feet away, stacks of books and papers at his feet in a huge mess of disorganized paper and leather. He glared angrily at Natchmann, who put down his pen and pulled his glasses off sheepishly.

"Nacthmann! What the hell are you doing, leaving these books stacked here! You were supposed to have them catalogued and entered this morning!"

Jan raised his eyes in a pleading half-smile. "Ah, yes, well, I'm getting to it. I was just analyzing these pictograms here!" he picked up a sheet with a black and white image on it and waved it excitedly. "The Terangal ideographs have startling similarities to the hieratic and cuneiform scripts of the modern day, just look here..."

Aldani cut him off. "Enough, enough. I'll have a cenobite come down and help you." He sighed. "Jan, you've been slipping the past few weeks. Wokr not getting done, papers not getting filed, stacks like this..." he gestured to the mess. "I think you need a little break, a sabbatical."

Nachtmann looked fearful. "Sabbatical? You're not going to replace me, are you?"

Aldani recoiled, waving his hands. "No, no no! You're very good at what you do when you put your mind to it, Jan. You're one of the best Secondary Archivists we've ever had here. But you need a break."

He lifted a packet and put it on Nachtmann's disorderly desk. "I want you to take a little while off, get out of the Archive. There's a special archaeological expedition going on in the country of Aerion, and I'd like you to go. It will be a good chance to put your passions to use where they don't interfere with work here."

Nachtmann's crestfallen gaze perked up. "Ah, xenoarchaeology? Wonderful, wonderful! I think a vacation is just the thing I need. I'll just finish up my comparison studies..." he said, picking up his pen and looking back down at his diagrams. Aldani reached out his hand and gently took the pen.

"I'm afraid the Terangal pictograms will have to wait. The airship for Sargedain leaves at the end of the day- and you have a connecting flight in the capital. Go home and pack, Jan."

* * *
A dirigible, airplane, and two days later Jan Wilhelm Nachtmann was in Ajasanon. He felt out of place with his brown tailcoat and maroon vest, but hoisted his field kit and travel pack and hailed for a taxi.

"Light Bright, please, hotel." he stammered out in whatever the national language was. The phrasebook wasn't very good. On arrival he tipped the driver, attempted to say thank you, and headed into the noticeably worn lobby of the hotel. Running his fingers nervously through his brown hair, he walked steadily toward the old man at the desk.

"Ah, yes, erm... Jan Wilhelm Nachtmann, of Snefaldia?"

The landing ws uneventful, and the initial disembarcation, was by design chaotic to say the least and as had been planned - in light of the request that the expedition be discrete - Michiko, Rox and an amount of carefully packed luggage disappeared.

Some hours later a cab pulled up outside the Bright Light Hotel at 606 Rakeui Street . Out climbed a young woman, her pet and several large, heavy duffle bags. All looked well travel worn, but respectable enough. Her outfit, close in looks to the nearly iconic safari outfit found round the world in rough country hid several places that sproted a stitch or two.

It hadn't taken much to find some one to take the transponders out and to put them into the arim of a needy single mother. She'd gladly accepted the money Michiko had given her and Michiko gladly accepted the freedom that being rid of the tiny devices gave her. She was skilled enough to remove the two that Rox had under his skin herself. That left one in his collar but that was one that required deliberate activation. But she'd only do that if things got desperate.

The hotel looked as weary as she felt and with Rox at her side she lugged her capacious duffles into the dimly lit foyer of the hotel, looking for the registration desk. Seeing that the innkeep waws busy with a man in a brown tailcoat and glasses she hung back not wanting to intrude.

The eighty year old desk clerk peered up at the man from Snefaldia, before looking back down to what he was reading. He then peered up, "Ahh, yes...your in room 209. Walk up that staircase over there and take a right. Or you can take the elevator over there. Just sign here." He presented an surprisingly old style hotel ledger rather than the digital one of some modern Aerionian hotels.. He manually programmed a keycard with an old style keycard programming machine, and handed him the shabby looking card with the hotel's name almost rubed out.

The Grand Staircase of the hotel, a feature prominent in older styled luxury hotels in Aerion had seen better times, an large stairway lead to a landing, then two other stairways lead up off each side of the landing to the second floor in the style of such staircases.

The staircase had faired even better than the elevator from the outside though, with a tarnished rusted copper double door style. The digital display next to the elevator flickered off and on.

Everything was fairly dusty, with a few lights out on the chandelier, and the recessed lighting panels in the corners of the room flickering or going out.

Even two of the luggage carriers had cobwebs on them.

Waiting patiently Michiko studied the man who had arrived before her. He did not seem the sort that she expected to see here, but he also didn't look like the type that'd be going on a back country expedition either. He would be comfortable in some University's dusty rare books section she mused to herself.

Once ther desk clerk had finished with the Librarian, as she mentally dubed him, she left Rox guarding her luggage and approached the desk.

A polite nod to the elderly clerk "I am Michiko Jones. I believe a reservation has been made for me." She spoke in a soft but confident voice.

"Hmm, ah, well, yes. Thank you!" Nachtmann stuttered at the old man, and then proceeded to his room. The surroundings of the hotel put him off a little- dark, dirty, and slightly scary. He brushed some cobwebs away from a luggage carrier, dropped his bags onto it, and pushed. He was greeted with a screeching noise, the kind that was usually paired with rusted axles. The damn thing wouldn't budge- it probably hadn't been used in as long as Jan had been alive.

Hefting his bags, he made his way up the stairs to his room, passing not a living soul. As he walked, he heard voices down at the desk- maybe some more folks going on the journey? It didn't look like there was a single soul in the entire hotel other than himself and the old receptionist.

Jan put his bags in his room, locked the door, and then headed back to the lobby area to explote the building.

The old man glanced back down to whatever book he was reading, seemingly ignoring the woman for almost an whole awkward minute before the elderly man looked back up. "Ahh your name..ahh..Michiko Jones..." He glanced down at his list "Lets see here." Pointing his old finger, taking some time, "Yes, room 409." He placed the ledger up on the desk for her to sign, then slid over to the back again to make a keycard manually once again. After finishing the key, he placed it on, and silently nodded before going back to reading what he was reading.

"Thank You" Michiko rolled her eyes and taking pen from a pocket, signed the old fashioned ledger. Card key in hand she went back to Rox and clicking to him, picked up her lugage.

At the first floor landing she met the man she had seen checking in just before her. "Scuse me" She stopped on the landing to let him go past. Rox gave the bespectacled man a look and a tenative wag of his tail.

"Thank You" Michiko rolled her eyes and taking pen from a pocket, signed the old fashioned ledger. Card key in hand she went back to Rox and clicking to him, picked up her lugage.

At the first floor landing she met the man she had seen checking in just before her. "Scuse me" She stopped on the landing to let him go past. Rox gave the bespectacled man a look and a tenative wag of his tail.

The appearance of another person in front of him gave Jan a jolt, and he started violently. Peering down his pince-nez, he looked bewildered.

"Naj, atma 'te!" He stuttered. He blinked, realized he was in a foreign country, and tried again in English. "Ex...cuse me? Ay, naic 'ta th'i... My name is Jan."

The narrow hotel hallways were even more dim, with flickering and out recessed lighting along the walls. The majority of the old sconces were out or flickering at barely a dim level, with cobwebs on them. The wallpaper was coming off the wall at spots, it had red and khaki stripes now faded. The carpet on the floor was worn as well.

The most disgusting thing almost was what looked like syringes in front of one door. The kind used to shoot up drugs. .

Ex...cuse me? Ay, naic 'ta th'i... My name is Jan."

"Hi Jan, I'm Michiko...This hotel certainly has an..." She struggled for a moment to find a word that suited and finally settled on "ambiance, doesn't it?" She smiled and set her heavy bags down for a moment. They were making her feel rather sherpaish, despite the totally non tibetian appearance of the drab surroundings. "Oh and this is Rox, short for Rocks In His Head" She smiled down at the patient Afghan Hound.

The bookish Snefaldian smiled, translating in his head what was going on.

"Ah, well! Yes, quite an interesting name... I'm sure it's apropos!" he exclaimed with a sheepish smile.

"Yes, this hotel is quite unusual... are you here on vacation?" The good scholar was completely naive, and his attempts at subtle concealment were probably completely transparent.

"Yeah he's sweet but dense at times" Michiko chuckled.

"Yes, this hotel is quite unusual... are you here on vacation?"

"Vacation?" Michiko shuddered as she looked around at the decrepit hotel once again. 'No one same would vacation here I think. No, I have business"

KNowing she still had three more floors to go she sighed and picked up her bags again. "Jan, it's good to meet you, but be careful, this sure looks like a rough neightborhood." He seemed to be a very nice man and far out of place in the hotel. But then again she knew she was too.

It began raining very heavily outside in the streets of the Industrial District of Ajasanon, and so rain pummeled the hotel.

The lights flickered as well as dimmed, and the electricity as if about to go out, but did not. Aerion was an advanced nation, and so the hotel's electrical system must have been in ill repair for the lights to flicker in such a way.

Jan was beginning to get nervous. Being in a strange nation, in a dilapidated hotel, and now it was raining and the lights weren't working. Quickly making his way back to his room, he locked the door, pulled out his Medrahov, and began the First Motion to calm him down.

The rooms for both guests that had arrived so far did not look that great. The inside of the both rooms was coated in dust almost. They both looked like they could have once been luxury suites, but were now old remnants of a gone day. They were both two room, with a sitting room with old style seats and a fireplace in one room and in the other room a bedroom with the bathroom off of it. The brocade red blankets and sheets i the bedroom looked as if they had been recently washed however, but were still torn. The couches cushions were worn and torn. The wallpaper was coming off the wall in both rooms. The faded marble bathrooms had almost rusted fixtures, and the water did not run so well in both. At least it did look like they had been cleaned for sanitation. The only thing that oddly looked replaced was the carpet and the more modern touchpad light controls and flatscreen. The light bulbs, however, had not been all replaced and at least 2 lightbulbs were out in a lamp or on a wall sconce in both rooms.

In room 409 where Michiko was the mirror was busted, and one of the couch legs was broken so the couch was just tilted to the side. Above the couch the chandelier was half broken, tilted and seeming to hang onto the chain with only one light barely flickering. The gas fireplace at least was burning somewhat which was odd as if someone had came to light it before she arrived.

Perhaps unfortunately, or fortunately for the scholar from Snefaldia in Room 209 the small flatcreen television in the bedroom was busted with what looked like it could be blood on the panel, perhaps someone had been thrown into it.

Michiko shuddered at the condition of the room, but was glad that it was not worse. She checked thought the suite carefully, a unhappy Rox close by her side. Shaking her head she retreated to sit on the bed and once again read through the letter. "May be this is just a hoax, Rox. This is ridiculous, and I hope that Professor Esjon Divar answers his phone"

With that she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number included in the letter. If he didn't answer she would up and leave without hesitation she had decided.

The phone went to the office of Professor Esjon with a message from the secretary on the voicemail "You have reached the office of Professor Esjon Divar. Professor Divar is presently on vacation. Please leave your name, number, and we will return your phone call as soon as possible."

The rains continued to rankle Jan, who not by nature a rather nervous fellow. He found it hard to concentrate on his meditations, so he stopped his motions and opened his Medrahov to the first page.

"In (http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=dg3n9cvh_1xrmv83&hl=en) the deepest reach of time there was nothing but the waters above and the waters below and the mist that moved between them..."

He calmed down as he read the through the text that was the greatest pillar of his faith. He was less anxious and more cross when he closed the book, wondering why Aldani had sent him out here to this foreign nation where everyone seemed to look the same, put him up in a hotel that was obviously condemned and run by a ghoul, where the only other visible patron was a strange foreign woman with a dog.

He marched out of his room and back down to the desk, avoiding the syringes and piles of trash in the hallway.

"Excuse me, please!" he said with as much force he could must (not much at all) to the secretary. "I would like to know if there are any messages for me, or any information pertaining to my trip here. It's a very important trip, you see!"

Michiko pulled the phone away from her hear and stared at it for a second before sliding it closed. She had no intention of leaving a message. 'What do you say Rox? Go or stay.?"

The Afghan Hounds looked at her uneasily then sat slowly, but didn't ease his not quite happy alterness one bit.

"Okay we'll stay for a little while." Michiko tucked the phone in her pocket and pulled out a folder filled with some of her seemingly endless paperwork.