This is an easy way to organize multiple stories in one sandbox. You can add as many tabs as you like - most people use one tab per story.
[[tabview]]
[[tab abandoned hunt project. will rework]]
I will name this when I can think of one
In the history of man, there has hitherto been few things truly forgotten. Many such things and places are lost, certainly, and yet they live on in culture and memory. They are misplaced, not forgotten. Civilisations are never truly lost, for they live on in myth and legend, buried beneath sand and dust, waiting to be uprooted once more by a curious eye. No, when I speak of forgetting, I mean the word in it's other form; to, of ones own accord, purge a concept, a thought, a place from memory. There is little that this indulgence has been offered to, and few things of substance that have truly been forgotten.
Save for one.
I dare not speak its name, for I fear the merest mention of the place is too much, enough to gather the ire of Other's; yet I fear as if simply the suggestion of this place is too much, the merest mention enough to draw attention. I ask you only one thing, reader. Do not read on unless you are willing to touch on such consequences.
The story - those parts of it that involve me - began, as so many things do, with wanderlust. I was a different man then, a fresh faced twenty year old exploring the Middle East. At home, the obsession with lingering artefacts of long dead societies had only just begun to take form, and along with some colleagues I was all too eager to meet the demand. We called ourselves Archaeologists and Missionaries, intent on introducing culture of the East to Britain and vice versa, yet the title seems ill deserved. We were grave robbers and profiteers, and nothing more. Little as we were, we saw many a wonderous sight, yet to look back I cannot place them. The memories of the good, it seems, have been washed away by the shadow of what was to come.
We had formed a foolish notion within our heads that we, Christian explorers and men of science, could do what so many had failed to. We believed that the rivers of this place were what had been written within Genesis and that we could uncover where once the lands of Eden lay. It was a difficult search. Locals, who had been a firm aid in our hunting for treasure, refused to follow. They did not offer reasons why (and indeed, I do not think they knew why), yet any and all we approached offered a firm response.
And so we set off into the wilds, in hunt of what could have - in a better world - been nothing. And for a time, that was just what was found. The weeks spent trawling the land were enough to drive much of our party back to pursuits of pleasure. By the end of the month, there were but four of us remaining. Only Dawes remains in my memory so firmly. The others are a fog, present but hidden. Dawes was in all ways our
[[/tab]]
[[tab ozymandius]]
[[/tab]]
'The Ozymandias Artefact of Egypt'
[[/tabview]]