But one feature stands out. Chiseled crudely into the stone, in a graffiti-like way, is a series of hurried hieroglyphs. You pull out your grand-uncle's journal and translate the ancient writing:
Beware of False Kings
You lean back for a minute, lost in thought. False kings? What does it mean? Then, all of a sudden...
CRASH!
The wall you happen to be leaning on gives way! One entire side of the mausoleum caves outward, spilling you into the street. Jagged stones and mortar shower down all around you as you're enveloped in a cloud of dirt and debris. You emerge unscathed but covered in a sheen of fine grey dust. It gets in your mouth and lungs, causing you to cough violently.
Waif is soon standing over you, extending one hand. He helps you up and dusts you off.
"Superstitious yet?" he smirks.
You're a little shaken, but it's all good. The path forks here:
Take the road to the right by TURNING TO PAGE 97
Or continue along the wider avenue by GOING TO PAGE 43
87
"Quick!" you tell Waif. "Into one of the buildings!"
Ducking back around the corner you choose the nearest doorway. You're through in seconds, crouching down, trying to make yourself as small a target as possible. You can smell the jackals before you even see them. Their rank, musty scent wrinkles your nose so badly you're afraid you might even sneeze.
"BACK!"
You turn just in time to see Waif kicking one of the mutts in the face. Of course they sniffed you out... like all dogs, they have an exceptional sense of smell. You should've known!
The jackal yelps in pain and skitters away to regroup with the others. During the lull you pull Waif to his feet and drag him back outside. Maybe there's still time to run. Better get moving.
Run fast. Run very fast. TURN TO PAGE 57
88
"Back away," you tell Waif. "We can't fight them all, there are too many!"
Carefully you retreat, but with every step you take the ants advance that much further forward. Tons more spill forth from the fissure in the ground. Soon they're crawling over one another just to get to you.
"Run!"
The ants move in a wave. You stay ahead of them, but only barely. Waif, of course, is ahead of you. Nimbly he steps through Atraharsis's rubble-strewn avenues, leaping and springing over obstacles until suddenly...
Waif trips. He falls hard, knocking the wind out of himself. You're running so fast you actually pass by him, and by the time you turn around the lower half of his body is already swarming with insects.
"No!"
You pull off your rucksack. Using it as a club, you beat most of the ants from Waif's body. There are fewer of them now. You've traveled a good distance from their hive, and rather than pursue you many have turned around. You beat the ants until your arm hurts, until finally you've driven away the last of the intruding insects. But Waif still hasn't recovered. He's covered in bites from the waist down; dozens of angry red bumps that look agonizingly painful.
Waif writhes around on the ground for what seems like forever. Eventually you help him to his feet, but his wounds are swelling up fast. His skin feels hot. He needs medical attention.
Fortunately you're still close to the city gates. If you leave now getting Waif help should be easy. Unfortunately however, this means your adventure in Atraharsis has reached
THE END
89
"Hang on a second," you tell Waif. "Put your ear against that wall." Lowering his knife, Waif does as you tell him. His eyes go wide.
"The underground river," you say. "The one that fed the city? It's still here. And it's just on other side of that wall." You point out a series of wide, deep fissures, all of which are seeping water. "That very cracked wall."
Waif gulps as he puts his knife away. Together you back out of the room, making your way into the next rough-hewn chamber. The rush of water is even louder here. But at least the walls are dry.
A minute later your partner is holding his torch against one side of the room. "Donovan," he says. "Come look at this."
Set into the chiseled rock wall, a series of crude levers and switches are set up. Most are rotted completely away, but a few of the wooden artifacts still carry some weight to them. By holding the torch close, you can see each lever is painted with a differently-colored band.
"This is unbelievable," Waif breathes. "I mean, I knew the builders were engineers, but..."
"But you didn't know they'd harness the power of the river to run their machines?" you finish for him. "This must be how the obelisk works. Waif, this must be how they buried the city!"
You put your own ear to the wall now. The river runs directly behind the ancient control panel. You can hear it churning, swirling, millions of pounds of pressure kept at bay by nothing more than a thin layer of sandstone.
"These switches could be what we're looking for," Waif suggests. "They could open a door or chamber. Maybe even the Hall of Kings."
"Or they could kill us both," you answer back. "How could they possibly still work? Another tremor, even a small one, is likely to flood this entire place."
You glance down at the controls. They're connected in sets, with only two pairs of levers still intact. Off to your left, a shadow-filled corridor exits the machine room at the opposite end.
You can pull the black and blue levers in series. If you do that, HEAD TO PAGE 121
Or you can push the gold and red levers together. If that's your choice, FLIP BACK TO PAGE 28
Or maybe you should leave well enough alone. Skip the levers entirely by GOING TO PAGE 44
90
Fluttering in the wind, the threadbare remnants of a four-thousand year old tent have somehow survived beneath the sands. All other supports have long since turned to dust, but one exceptionally thick pole juts defiantly upward.
Suddenly there's a great shifting and grating noise. It sounds similar to when the Obelisk key was turned, only now it's ten times louder and coming from every direction. Soon everything begins to shake. Rubble falls from the Atraharsis's high walls, sending up plumes of dust all around the city. For a heart-stopping moment you think the entire place is going to come crashing down around you, and then the rumbling stops and the air goes still. Luckily you were near the center of the road. Nothing dangerous came your way.
"You okay?" you ask Waif.
"Yes. But the city appears to not be entirely stable."
You can only smirk as you bite back a sarcastic remark. It's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
"These tremors will be felt for miles," Waif notes. "My old team will have heard them, along with Mr. Sullivan. They will come here, and soon too."
That's something you hadn't though of. It wipes the smile from your face as you factor in this new variable.
"Should we search this place?" Waif asks. "Or continue on?"
If you'd like to poke around the area some more, you can search it more thoroughly OVER ON PAGE 139
On the other hand, maybe you should keep moving. If you'd rather just go, HEAD BACK TO PAGE 85
91
"Alright," you say. "If this place really spooks you, there's another street that looks like it runs parallel."
Waif is quick to jump at the opportunity. He nods in gratitude and leads you from the arched area. Soon you're walking another avenue, although this one is more winding and cluttered with debris. The cracks in the street are wider here, and some of them run deep into the ground.
"I don't know," you say. "Maybe we should go back."
Your partner chuckles. "Nonsense." You notice he's having a much less difficult time than you. Smaller and lighter, Waif is also a lot quicker on his feet. He picks his way past the rubble like it's nothing.
Eventually the road narrows to the point where you almost have to walk single file. A large crack -- no, a fissure -- runs through the middle of the alleyway. Up ahead everything broadens out, but right now you're faced with having to jump the ga
p. How wide is it? Ten feet? Twelve? It's difficult to tell.
"Hey, I don't think--"
Waif jumps before you can finish. He leaps across the gap handily, with tons of room to spare.
"C'mon! It's easy!"
Well it certainly looks easy. Sort of. Then again...
Courage check! Flip two coins (or just flip the same coin twice)
If both coins come up HEADS, see if you make it by TURNING TO PAGE 127
If both coins come up TAILS, let's hope you're okay OVER ON PAGE 39
If you get one HEADS and one TAILS, cross your fingers and FLIP TO PAGE 104
92
You place the star sapphire on the dais. Off to your right, a door slides slowly open.
"Watch out!"
Waif tackles you to the floor as a trio of thick stone columns slam down from the ceiling. The pillars land barely a foot apart, too thin for you to squeeze or reach through. You're cut off from the star gem!
You glance right. The door is fully open now. Immediately however, it begins sliding closed again. With only seconds left you start toward it, willing your feet to move.
"Waif, come on!"
You can see your partner is torn. His gaze keeps moving between the rapidly closing door and the crude stone portcullis. In the shadows of the alcove, the sapphire still gleams a brilliant blue.
"Hurry!"
Eventually there's no choice -- you turn sideways and hurl yourself into the shadowy hallway. When you look back you expect to see Waif right behind you... but he's not there. The door is almost closed now. Only a thin sliver of light separates you from total darkness.
"Waif!"
At the last possible second your partner comes flying into the corridor. His torch flickers as the door slams closed. When he's finally finished gathering himself, he looks up at you sheepishly.
"Well, that was..."
Your voice trails off and a moment of silence passes between you. Rather than admonish him further you take Waif's torch and walk to the end of the new hallway. "Come on," you say with forced cheerfulness. "Let's see what was worth sacrificing a star jewel for."
93
You enter a low, box-shaped room littered with sand. The walls here are worn smooth, except for strange vertical grooves from floor to ceiling. A simple stone altar stands in the center of the chamber. It has an opening in the top, and several smaller holes cut symmetrically into all four sides. The base of the altar is covered in glyphs.
You give the torch back to Waif. "What's it say?"
Two ancient braziers sit on either side of the altar. Waif touches the torch to them on a whim, and they immediately light up! The room fills with sweet-smelling smoke as the centuries-old charcoal burns. Waif translates easily by the new light:
Death by Fire
Water, Life
Yet Earth is Key
To End Your Strife
Almost on cue, a noise fills the chamber. The ceiling feels suddenly lower... or rather, the floor beneath you is grinding upward!
"We're going to be squashed!" Waif cries. The floor is already past the entrance, eliminating any possibility of retreat. "What do we do?"
You scramble, searching for an answer. The ceiling is flat and unremarkable, except for a slight recess directly above the altar. No help there...
Do you put out the flaming braziers, hoping the floor will stop? If so HEAD TO PAGE 46
The altar has an opening, maybe you could pour water into it? Try that BACK ON PAGE 60
You could also try scooping sand into the altar. If that's your answer GO TO PAGE 151
94
Your hand closes over one of the jade bookends. Then, with pantherish speed, Waif knocks your arm away.
"What the--"
An asp slithers out from beneath the ruined chest. It looks long and black and very deadly. The snake's head strikes the air where, only a split second before, your hand had rested. After missing its target it slides quickly away, disappearing beneath some rubble.
"Waif!" you cry out in astonished gratitude. "Nice going!" You hug him, and probably a little too tightly. He grunts.
"You saved my life!"
Your friend looks back at you sheepishly. "Perhaps. It was nothing, really. Where I come from--"
"Wherever you come from, you move faster than that asp! And for that I'm grateful." You toss him the bookends before slapping him roughly on the back. "These are yours, my friend. Now let's get going."
Whew, close call!
Head back into the streets of Atraharsis by TURNING TO PAGE 124
95
In the rear of the cave, a dark opening leads into the next chamber. Or it leads absolutely nowhere. Truth is, you really don't know.
"Back up," you tell Waif. You do your best to keep your voice calm, controlled. "Slowly."
Your friend takes a careful step backward. So do you. The cheetah mirrors your movements, although you do gain some measure of distance between yourselves and the big cat. Finally, with your back pressed up against the darkness, you dare a quick look over your shoulder. In the meager light of Waif's torch, you see nothing but a dead end!
"Can't go that way," you say in measured tones. Murdoch's journeyman's pack dangles from your hand. "When I throw this thing, RUN."
Half a moment later, your chance comes. The cat looks down, but only for a split second...
"GO!"
You hurl the pack as hard as you can, then sprint along the rightmost edge of the cave. Waif goes left. You don't even look back, all you can hear is the sound of the heavy bag striking the cheetah square in the face. Then you're out in the sunlight, bolting away from the cave opening. Waif is pumping hard right beside you.
Eventually you stop and turn around. You're not being pursued. Relief washes over you, followed immediately by regret. Why couldn't you have thrown something else?
"I really wanted to know what was in that thing," you lament.
Waif shakes his head. "I know." He points back to where the huge cat paces back and forth along the cave opening. "But it belongs her now."
Hey, at least you're not breakfast! Keep moving by TURNING TO PAGE 97
96
"Knowledge!" you cry. "That's the answer!"
You're practically shaking your partner by now. He stares back at you quizzically.
"Waif, if there's anything we learned about Atraharsis, it's that its founders and rulers valued knowledge above everything else!"
"But... but that's not tangible," Waif says. He glances down at the pedestal. "How do you place knowledge?"
Your mind goes blank for a moment. Then, slowly, you draw your grand-uncle's journal from your rucksack. Gingerly you place it on the simple stone pedestal.
The pedestal lowers. You watch as Robert Murdoch's hundred year-old journal sinks slowly into the floor, disappearing to a place it poetically belongs. There's the low grating of stone on stone, and a door opens in the wall before you.
You see scrolls. Scroll tubes of bone. A few dozen at least, they lay stacked in a neat pile, sealed at the ends with beeswax.
"Their knowledge," Waif breathes.
You nod solemnly. "Yes. Their discoveries and advancements. Their art, their culture." You pick up one of the scroll cases, trying to imagine the last time another person actually touched it. "They preserved it all here, for others to find. Even across four millennia."
Wordlessly Waif begins gathering up scrolls. You do the same. It means dumping half the treasure in your rucksack, but you do it anyway. You already have enough gold and jewels to last you a lifetime. But the true treasure, you realize, is the collective wisdom of Atraharsis.
As you slide the last tube into your pack a low rumble fills the Hall. Somewhere deep below, a series of hollow booms seems to be getting louder and louder. It's followed by an even more ominous background noise that rises above the rest; the thundering rush of water.
"The underground river!" Waif exclaims. "We have to hurry!"
You can help hurry t
hings up by TURNING TO PAGE 162
97
The road here widens around a central pool, built with some of the most beautiful masonry work you've ever seen. Each stone fits perfectly within the next, the edges so sharp and crisp it looks almost as if done with laser efficiency. It's a testament to the builders that the structure has lasted this long, especially after being shaken to the surface from deep beneath the desert.
"The architects here were masters," Waif says. "It's a shame so much of their knowledge was lost with the city itself."
You're still not sure what happened to the city. Was Atraharsis razed? Sacked? Or did its engineers somehow find a way to bury it, to hide its secrets from the rest of the world?
You hop up into the pool itself, which is filled with a fine sand. A preliminary search reveals a colorful mosaic on the bottom, made up of thousands of tiles. You motion Waif over. "Help me with this."
Together you work to uncover the picturesque artwork that graces the bottom of the once-beautiful pool. When you've scattered most of the sand to the far corners, the image of a woman is revealed. She's garbed in a starkly-colored dress of alternating red and black, and menaced by a snarling dog. The woman is running in the opposite direction.
Treasures of the Forgotten City Page 7