(urth) Seeing the signs...

[James Wynn]

> Nothing seemed solid in the witches' tower, and few things were. Much 
> later, Master Palaemon explained to me that it was far older than most 
> other parts of the Citadel, and had been built when the design of 
> towers was still little more than the imitation in inanimate materials 
> of human physiology, so that skeletons of steel were used to support a 
> fabric of flimsier substances. With the passing of the centuries, that 
> skeleton had largely corroded away—until at last the structure it had 
> once stiffened was held up only by the piecemeal repairs of past 
> generations. Oversized rooms were separated by walls not much thicker 
> than draperies; no floor was level, and no stair straight; each 
> banister and railing I touched seemed ready to come off in my hand. 
> Gnostic designs in white, green, and purple had been chalked on the 
> walls, but there was little furniture, and the air seemed colder than 
> that outside. After climbing several stairs and a ladder lashed 
> together from the unpeeled saplings of some fragrant tree,

I'm imagining a giant fort we built when I was 10.