This occurred long enough ago, that I do not recall it properly myself anymore. But, fortunately, I was impressed upon receiving this memory to write it, and so it is preserved in mostly accurate record, which I will likely burn after this post. I will note that while in this memory, I was fluent in German, but forgot the language as soon as I woke. It reads thus:
While in china or the orient, I, along with a few others accompanied the [new/acting?] Fuhrer. There was a general air of sadness and grief though the Fuhrer maintained his composure, at least in appearance to those who did not know the pain in his heart. [Indicated by the deep shadows in the valleys of his face.] We had found ourselves in a strange place, ancient and derelict. The place was obviously some city, which now was comprised [of] a light grey, crumbling stone. Where the stone had fallen or was no longer present, the locals built with a dark wood.
We spoke to the local children, playing a little with them. Our main concern was with the adults, however. The Fuhrer and another asked regarding something beneath the city. We were given 3 guidances by the locals. In the first, we were perhaps taken off shore a small way, and shown the way afar, and described what lay below the water, now filthied.
In the second, a local boy or boys showed us an entrance beneath the city. (This guidance was not recorded, and I do not remember it.)
In our journey, our primary focus lay along a canal of sorts. It could be accessed between the buildings, [which I recall to have been built for giants,] which were built along it. It was perhaps at the least 5 or so yards wide, at the most, 20 or so. Its depth varied. Within it, were fished strange fish. I had found, caught or been shown a salamander twice or thrice the size of my hand. It appeared stony, and had uneven flesh, to blend in with the stony bottom of the canal.
While making observations regarding the strange salamander in my hands, I heard a shout from one of my companions, something to the effect of "There is an entrance over here! Look! See how they have made a path!?" I dropped the salamander back into the canal gently, and ran to my companions. The Fuhrer was standing in front of an old woman. He introduced himself with an unfamiliar name, a name which held great power, and took me by great surprise. I cannot recall it, though such was the power of the name, that [even in memory, it left a deep impression on me, and caused me to stagger.]
The woman, more a hag, compelled by our companion's name, lifted a blanket or rug which concealed an opening in the foundation of one of the massive buildings. She beckoned us to follow her.
We did, and after what seemed a short walk, we came upon [a subterranean canal, much like the one above ground, but this was larger, and split in two.] The whole tunnel was somehow well lit, [despite a lack of any light sources. The tunnels, unlike the cold and snowy outside, was quite temperate. The tunnels, despite being of obvious archaic age-many thousands of years-were of remarkably modern design.]
After walking quite some ways, both the Fuhrer and I were very disappointed in our inability to find what we came for, again. We sat against a pillar, on a ledge overhanging a part of the canal. It was at this point we noticed that the hag had long since abandoned us. We did not sit long, as the shout of the other companion caught our attention.
We turned, and looked to our right. We must have passed somehow, three dead Roman soldiers. They were at first, normal skeletons donning their helms, I do not recall any other thing upon them. To their right, our left, upon the nearest pillar was ancient lettering, which I intuited to be archaic Chinese. It was chiselled, and relatively sharp, indicating it to be newer than the architecture. From our left, form that pillar, upon the corner was slumped a fourth skeleton.
The Fuhrer and our third companion both crossed the stone bridge to the skeletons. The companion who was also a translator, seemed intrigued, and read the lettering, translating it as he read. The Fuhrer sat at the center skeleton, perhaps weeping and muttering incoherently to himself. I stayed perhaps halfway across the bridge, as I had felt an overwhelming evil presence.