A silence blanketed the ruins, as if all the air had been drawn out of the surrounding area. I couldn't so much as hear my heart beat. I decided that whatever was there wasn't worth it— and left immediately.Masked by the darkness of Tchaoxlik lies a great, forgotten city. The last surviving monument to a civilization long forgotten, that of Ur'agthl. Yet something stirs within it, luring travellers to its doorstep. Wild tales of strange pale beings within a warped time are told breathlessly by those who return— and are often discarded.
Silent Spires
Don't turn around...please, he's there. Waiting for you.For those who don't flee, and walk deeper into the ruins, they will come upon an alluring door. This door can appear anywhere deep within the city, taking the place of another. Instead of an opening to a structure, one is faced with a brilliant kaleidoscopic light that undulates like liquid as they approach. Some speak of the doorway singing to them, even— beckoning them to enter.
It...sings to me. They want me to bear witness to their elation, their perfect world, and share their teachings...I must enter.
The Forever Day
They stood before me, that pale-red being. It seemed to tower above me in height, its torso was about the size of my own but its thin limbs hung below it as if they had been stretched. Each ended in a sharp, bony point rather than hands or feet. Upon its skull were no features I could easily recognize, no ears, mouth, eyes, nose, or even hair— in their place was instead a constantly evolving collection of geometric forms not unlike those in the sky above me. As I tried to make out some constant within the shapes, my mind grew weary— and I had to resign to staring just below their head as they addressed me. "Come." They said, in a language I did not know— but nevertheless, I understood, and obeyed.The denizens of Ur'agthl are trapped, willingly it would seem, within a continuously looping day. Originally this had been a punishment, as they tried to leverage an eldritch being's power for themselves— but over the centuries of their imprisonment they have reached a sort of peaceful equilibrium and refuse to step out of their realm. Travellers are lured to their city simply so that their faith can spread, they have come before now— and well beyond. One who enters Ur'agthl has always entered Ur'agthl that day, and they always will— for eternity.
Governing Structure
Religion
Life is about being, twisting and turning and becoming numerical— you cannot stand straight if you do not accept that it is always golden. This is a fundamental law, and when the vapors reach your ears you will taste of their sweet nectar— stand still, bear it. Float, always, and point to that which shirks from the golden lights as sinful.However, very few have been able to actually understand their faith. While the Ur'agthlians have had untold eons to ponder the nature of the universe— most sentient life dies well before they see a single century. A fair number of those who return from Ur'aghthl go insane, and those who do truly understand sound as if they are.
Uhr-ahg-th-uhl
Unknown - Unknown
Type
Geopolitical, Country
Demonym
Ur'agthlian
Government System
Monarchy, Absolute
Nest of none
Nothing lives in or near the silent ruins of Ur'agthl. No plants grow, no water drips— even monsters make a point to avoid the area.It's as if all life has shunned these forsaken obsidian structures, its masters are gone, but so too are those who would normally happily reclaim it. It is almost as if even the earth itself has forgotten Ur'agthl. I fear that if I stand upon this ground too long, I too, shall be forgotten.
From another time
As the city is always living the same day, visitors, too arrive and leave in the same day. Regardless of when they had first come. An ancient progenitor may meet a relative from centuries after their death, and in similar fashion—one today may meet another from centuries yet to come. Of course, it is difficult for visitors to avoid asking of their futures.
"An ocean? Chluetichlon is a lake!" He laughed at my confusion, and continued. "We travel across both land and sea on great metal discs, the rains above pour down as burning fire— and few remember the art of calligraphy. Instead, we communicate through many thin threads embedded into all beings, floating always around us." I couldn't believe the strange looking man— if it weren't for the thin threads dangling from his fingertips as he waved them at me.More often than not, this information is from too far in the future to be of much use to someone from the present day. If any inventions have been a result of these conversations, however, they have gone largely unnoticed— or slipped into daily use unknowingly.
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