Already, the sun's rays pushed onto Amal's skin with a tingle of fire as he half hobbled/half carried Emmaline into the first building. It was a tall structure that looked like a foreground outpost to overlook both the city and the surrounding area in ages long past. He wasn't certain what to expect when they entered, but the shadows and the air that would remain cool were welcome to his senses. He might not fret from Arabian heat, but it wasn't good to begin a journey in, let's say. Inside, the sand piled high along the walls like crashing waves, as if the very grains themselves wished to snake higher along the stonework. A simple skull of stone and brass allayed itself along the right wall, while the left wall held aloft a well formed staircase that spiraled upwards, hugging every wall as it climbed into the shadows above. Skeletons lay on the ground, some broken as if by massive blunt trauma and others simply collapsed, holding their ancient weapons in death. "Well, we're in a tight spot, but we are in a very fortunate place, my friend." Amal told her as they stepped carefully over the bones and small bits of broken masonry. Carefully, he let her down onto the large stairs of the stairway, and then plopped down beside her heavily. "Have you ever heard of Bel-Aliad?" He asked her, producing an apple for her to eat. He slid it down his arm and caught it, before handing it to her waiting hands. She shook her head, happily (as could be) biting onto the fruit. Amal leaned back on the upper stair behind him with both elbows, looking across the room. The place, no the city had an aura of dread, but he seemed in his element. It was that suicidal wanderlust and restlessness that she had come to learn about Amal. He spoke as if he was looking into a mirror of scrying. "Long ago, it was a city of ancient Nehekhara, said to house the most illustrious and amazing treasure in the southlands, if not the world. Of course...any who come here perish but-" He gave her a wink. "That's what they say about every accursed, ancient city." He remarked, clearly having robbed such ruins as this before, on a smaller scale. "After we rest here, what do you say to a little plunder? Perhaps then our friend here is well rested." The carpet's brushy hand peeked out from under its rolled form. "And we may travel to wherever we wish." He did want to add, however. "There are likely dangers here. Talking skulls do not often lie, and he did mention that part..." [@Penny]