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Post by The Almighty DM on Jul 2, 2012 2:29:45 GMT -5
As the sun rises over the Blackjaw mountains, it shines down upon an already bustling Gardahal. Were the villagers to wait for the heavenly sphere to completely clear the tall crags surrounding them, they would only have a few hours of daylight before the shadow of the western mountains again claimed the village. The only structure to receive a fair amount of light is the monastery of Bahamut which rests on the western mountain. As for the rest of the population, they are content with their mostly indirect light and temporary overhead blaring hours.
A ten minute walk below the monastery and thirty out from the village bustles the famed mines of Gardahal. Expansive tunnels branch out beneath the mountain forming a maze that only the most veteran miners can fully navigate. At the end of a long shift, the tired workers shuffle home to their families only a half an hour away. Among the town, houses are scattered around a central cross of pave road. With the occasional field on the outskirts of town, not much forest has been cleared. Trees are prevalent, but the terrain only becomes wooded ten minutes out from town.
The village, too, has its own unique characteristics and defining landmarks.
Check back here for the addition of others houses and their locations.
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Post by The Almighty DM on Jul 2, 2012 16:52:29 GMT -5
The chambers in the rectory of the monastery of Bahamut are spartan to say the least. Ivar's chamber is at the highest floor of the rectory, where the leader of the Order sleeps and works. His bead is small, only ever suitable for a single person, never meant to be shared. A small desk across the room from the bed holds papers and manuscripts to be copied, along with plans for lessons to be taught to the young apprentice. The desk is old, worm-eaten wood with a simple wooden stool for a chair. Members of the order where never meant to live comfort. An extinguished candlestick is the only object in the room that can give light aside from the square window cut into the rough stone of the wall, and heavily barred with iron. The largest piece of furniture in the room is also the nicest. The heavy wardrobe against the wall was a gift from the former Rector; an enormous thing, covered in carved images of the legends of Bahamut and vanquished evil. The old Rector was apparently an accomplished carpenter and artist, although in his last years he refused to even whittle unless it was to do small repairs of the fence or chicken coop. Ivar did not have much to wear inside the wardrobe. Having lived his whole life there and not having much to do outside of the monastery, his clothing choices consisted largely of clerical vestments. Different robes and capes and coverings for different holidays and solemn days. A white robe for the celebration of the birth of a prophet of Bahamut, a black one for his death, three different capes to be worn during ceremonies, including a green one for funerals. Two pairs of boots sat on the bottom floor of the wardrobe, both pairs clean and sturdy. A single pair of breaches and a long coat are the only civilian clothes that Ivar owns. It was a suggestion by the old Rector to always have travelling clothes. Without glass in the window, a cold wind blows through the room from off of the mountain, stirring the thin blanket covering Ivar as he sleeps.
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Post by The Almighty DM on Jul 3, 2012 23:24:57 GMT -5
Azoth lays sound asleep in his room. Outside of his window a lantern swings, the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. His room is small and sparsely furnished. It has his bed, a small wardrobe, a tiny table with an oil lantern on it, a bookcase filled with books (duh), and in the corner a worn sword propped up against the wall. His window looks out over the family farm and at the mountains beyond. His room is located on the second story, having been an attic before Azoth was born. Azoth shudders and groans, as if perturbed by something in his sleep.
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Post by The Almighty DM on Jul 3, 2012 23:25:51 GMT -5
The inn is bright even in the late evening. Its red brick structure can be seen from almost anywhere in the small town, even if it receives little sunlight. Torches are lit everywhere, as some travelers may chose to rest even with the moon at full light. Flint's shift finally ends as his dad always takes the graveyard shift, it has been the family way since Flint was a child. Flint walks over to the door leading to the wooden steps, which is marked "Employees only," to his room on the second floor of the inn. The sign is small and can easily be taken off if the family needs room for more for people to stay, although this has never happened in Flint's life. Flint's door is the first on the right after reaching the top of the stairs. As he walks in he takes off his work clothing, which is just some basic cloth he has had for six years now, and strips down to his underwear as it gets very hot on the second floor where he sleeps. His wardrobe is in the back left corner from where he entered the room, and he puts his work clothing in there. Next to the wardrobe on the left side of the room is a small wooden desk which has three slots. One slot is to new pieces of parchment which have yet to be written on. The second slot contains parchment which has many different ideas Flint has had while sleeping or working that he wanted to write down. The third slot had a small book which Flint had borrowed from the local monastery entitled "The Guidelines for a Bahamut worshiper." Flint takes an hour or so to read a part of this book every night, and has finished it almost 10 times. He places the book back into its slot and crawls into his bed on the right side of the room, which looks like it could fit 3 people, eager to close his eye's and wait for another day.
EDIT: There's a window directly across from the door when you enter the room. It is pretty small.
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Post by The Almighty DM on Jul 3, 2012 23:26:55 GMT -5
As she closes the door behind the last customer of the night, Samriel slumps against her workbench. Evening is the busiest time at the blacksmith as the miners stop in the shop on their way home. The blacksmith shop is perched on the edge of town closest to the mine. This makes it easy for workers to pick up or drop off tools as they come or go from work. It is an old building but beautifully kept up. Thestore front is encircled by wrought iron in all shapes and designs. As Samriel wearily climbs the stairs she can hear Gideon and Rowan closing up shop. When she enters the appartment she walks into the kitchen/living room to get some dinner made by Alariel. Shewalks into the only other room in the house and collapses onto her bed. As the sun sets over the mountains she ca. See the last stragglers from the mines winding their way home along theroad. She throws her clothing onto the floor, Alariel will get to it tomorrow, and gets her night clothes out of the large oak cabinet along thewall. Sometime later Alariel and Floriel join her in bed, while the boys climbinto their own across the room. Gideon comes in last withthedays earnings. The majority he adds to the metal box at the footprint Samriels bed, but he sets aside a small portion into the box in thewardrobe. The satisfying clink of gold after the short fall puts a smile on everyonez face. Soonthey will have enough to buy the patch of land across the street and then they'll have a real home again, like theone they were forced to give up after their parents death. But for now no one minds the chill blowing g through the old walls and huddles together and starts to dream of a better life.
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