Only in dreams or distant memories does such a place exist: the Gateway to the Gardens of Paradise. The waters are still crystal clear, the sun hot in the mid afternoon sky, and the ruins of a once great ancient civilisation are all that remains.
Gone are the grand palaces, the fine walkways, the beautiful hanging gardens, the coastal trading ports, and the lush green landscape that surrounded everything.
The coastline is crumbling, as are the last remaining structures that once stood for hundreds of years. A few palm trees stand, testament to the gardeners of old who planted the seed long ago. These trees, descendants of that bygone age, young yet weathered, are the only sign of life.
Paradise, ancient paradise, cruel paradise; Elt Gor-ed now gored, almost barren, by the ravages of time.
Elt (entrance) Gor (Garden) Ed (Eternal). A place that should have, but didn’t, live up to its name.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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