PotRP Design Diary #39 - Thark

 On the edge of a dusty basin of a long-dead Martian sea lies the ruins of a city called Thark—or at least, that’s what the green Martians call it now. No one remembers its real name. What’s left of it sprawls in eerie silence, the bones of a lost civilization slowly being swallowed by red sand.

Once, Thark was grand. Marble towers rose into the sky, elegant frescoes and mosaics lined the walls, and wide avenues bustled with life. Now, it’s all broken columns, leaning buildings, and windswept plazas. Faded images of pale-skinned, golden-haired people still decorate some of the ruins, ghosts of a vanished race.

At the center stands a great circular hall, once a ceremonial chamber, now a rough meeting place for the warlike green Martians. Scattered around the city are strange chambers with hanging metal beds and walls etched with forgotten symbols. Outside the city lies the incubator vault, buried in hills and sand, where the green Martians hatch their young.

Under it all are hidden vaults, cracked aqueducts, mural-lined tunnels, reminders of a time when water flowed and the city thrived.

But now, Thark is silent. Not haunted by spirits, but by memory. The wind moans through its dusty broken streets like a city trying to remember who it once was. If you ever visit, you’ll feel that sense that something ancient is still watching.

Thark