"Destructive? Perhaps there was a war." Braska thought of Zanarkand and how according to history it had been a great city brimming with technology but now was no more than a ruin awaiting a questing summoner.
Looking up, he shaded his eyes from the sun. Glancing at his shoulder, Braska frowned.
"Think a dead person's skin can get sunburn?" Braska asked, poking at his shoulder.