Rugged and indomitable, the warehouse rises up in a desolate clearing, one where grass rarely grows but weeds do in abundance. It is nondescript, mundane, perhaps something that was once used to store tools or machinery. Wide doors have long-since rusted from their hinges, opening the warehouse to the elements. It is not until one reaches the basement that the true purpose of the structure becomes clear. Dim windows on the upper portion of the basement allude to what has happened there; blood splatters the walls and floor, dark stains earned from years worth of fighting.

The twinkle of the downtown skyline died long ago and it looks dead and dark at night with the company of stars its only companion. During the daytime it stretches toward the sky with long alleyways that lead to boarded up stores that used to hold anything and everything, and an old red light district that used to scream excitement lays in desolate waste. The streets stretch to old brick and slate condos that are now home to the dogs and an old city district, broken down and long forsaken.

The old memories of hustle and bustle still ring through the empty hallways of Symerton Station. Old ticket booths are lined with cobwebs, stinking of moldy dust — unremarkable despite the once state of the art efforts. There once were trains coming through the station on a regular basis, but now it’s long forgotten with old railcars sitting alone in the yard. Its cracked roof sags in places, a bent old building with more history from the passengers who used to come in and out.

A large field separates the forest from the crumbling entryway. The outer wall, once insurmountable, is now practically non-existent in some places. A large courtyard littered with rubble exists between the outer wall and the fortress itself, which stands like a monolith, towering over the surrounding area. The upper floors are largely unreachable, but the main body of the building and its lower levels remain clear and dangerous. The innermost areas remain untouched by time and the elements, preserving treasures long hidden and the mechanisms installed to protect them.

The prison received its infamous nickname after the rumours of killing convicts, specifically at the end of a noose. Whether or not it was true, it certainly worked as a scare tactic. Long abandoned like the rest of the city, the locks have been broken to the main gate and the fence damaged. The grounds are overgrown with weeds but the paths remain immaculate. The insides are painted a canary yellow at a poor attempt for merriment in the institution but the condition has deteriorated entirely, some rooms trashed and raided with a a few rusty bolts here and there.

Flowers planted lovingly into dirt with gentle hands are now left to their own devices and choked by wicked, gnarled weeds. Once brilliantly covered in every shade of the rainbow the Caesar gardens are being choked by the weeds and neglect. An old man-made stream runs through the middle of the gardens, rocks piled on either side. An old wooden bridge curves, catlike, over the stream to the other side where hedges that had previously been manicured now flourish under the watchful eye of mother nature.

Far beyond the boundaries of the city stands a great barrier of rock, towering higher than any structure of the city. While they provide a backdrop of majesty against the grungy city scene, they are not without their own threats. Precipices and lethal falls await those who wander haphazardly into the mountains’ depths, as well as wild beasts that make the hostile environment their home. Fortunately, shelter is a common commodity, taking the form of great granite slabs and the occasional vegetated hollow. Life is hard, but it is possible.

Where the forest ends and the steep and barren cliffs begin is the quarry. Once upon a time, Cascaro was a hotspot for mineral mining. These days, only a legacy of old power tools and shelves of stone remain. The past efforts of those workers has not gone to waste, however. Even amongst the rock and the dilapidated structures, dogs can find shelter. The most surefooted of canines can even scale the rocks to the water below. The only reward for these brave souls is the journey; the water is many years stagnant, beyond what is safe for drinking.