-SIN-
First Post
Many, many miles have passed underfoot since leaving the comforts of your homelands. League upon league you have marched, some of you for weeks, others for months, few of you have travelled longer still. Across burning deserts, barren wastelands, snow-capped mountains and rolling dales you have toiled, retracing the steps your ancestors left so long ago. Some of you were commissioned for this expedition, others felt a distant calling to a home long lost, whether for glory or redemption, you have trekked relentlessly onward. Few of you arrive alone. Fate, be it what it may, has seen many companions join your cause; like minded fellows who share a common goal. Together you shall venture into the ancient halls of Ironstorm Mountain....
Finally, upon reaching the crest of a steep rise in the road you lay your eyes upon your destination; the colossal Great Edge Mountain range far to the North. Pausing for breath you stretch your aching muscles, absorbing the sights around you. Behind you, now far to the south lay the fallen Kingdom of Turinnahd, a once proud and powerful Human empire, shattered centuries ago by war and famine. To the East stretches a hinterland of grassy plains, unmarred by the touch of civilisation, placid and tranquil. The west on the other hand sports a dark stain; overgrown marshland receding into waterlogged swamps. As you and your companions mill around waiting for the stragglers to catch up you turn your attention once more to the North. The dusty road that you travel upon disappears into the distance, swallowed up by the waning light of the setting sun, though there is still enough light to make out the remnants of a watchtower up ahead, another of which can be seen standing drunkenly on the summit of a small tor some distance to the North-West. A river, shining with the fiery brilliance emitted by the dipping sun, runs South-Westerly, just north of the closer tower. You press on, continuing your journey untill you arrive at the broken tower where you decide to halt for the night, lighting a small fire before bedding down for the night between the ancient, lichen covered stones.
You break camp before the rising of the Sun, eager to start the final leg of your journey. Accompanied by a hubbub of birdsong, and with the breaking sun peeking over the horizon to lay its warm touch upon your faces, you can't help but to have a feeling of achievement. In the distance you can already see dirty smudges of smoke denoting a settlement up ahead; the last there is in this undefiled frontier. Tommerast.
By the time you reach the outskirts of the town the sun is high overhead, the spring morning dew long since evaporated, and now you are finally here you find that sense of achievement evaporating too. From what looked like a formidable city sprawling across the countryside from afar, now looks more like a run down hovel. Dozens of unwoked fields and meadows hedged in by dilapidated dry stone walls, adorned with the remnants of abandoned ploughs and various other rusted and broken farming implements surround the settlement. Only the farms closest the city appear to be in use, teams of workmen and women tilling the earth stand testament to that. The cobble stoned avenues are uneven and deeply rutted, weeds and grass pushing up between the cobbles which remain. Dozens of houses and outbuildings lay in various states of disrepair; the ground courses of stone badly pitted, the upper wooden levels blackened, though not with the attributes associated with fire damage. Moving further into town it becomes apparent that this was once a great city; once elegant statues line the main streets, now no more than undefined, lichen covered sentinels standing guard over a city almost as bedraggled as themselves.
Continuing toward the town centre you find the streets becoming more and more lively; men and women going about their daily business, unwashed children playing with a stray dog in the streets, a few carts bearing trade goods preparing for long journeys to far away destinations, though compared to the other towns and cities you have visited on your travels, this place is hardly teeming with life, if anything, this tumble-down seems to be hanging onto the edge of civilisation; a city that was obviously once home to many thousands, now houses only a few hundred. Finally, after navigating your way into the city centre itself you come to a halt at once grand plaza; long ago it would have boasted the wealth of the settlement, but now it gives off a sorry air of destitution. Several establishments are visible from where you stand: The Pitons-to-Pint, obviously a tavern; Kresse's Goods, a general store; a blacksmiths; the town watch, and a garishly decorated building whose sign reads 'Silk & Velvet'.
Welcome to Tommerast...
[sblock]You may have to excuse my first few posts - I'm on tranquilizers at the mo', and maaaan do they scramble your brain!!
The marijuana only serves to exacerbate things even more.... [/sblock]
Finally, upon reaching the crest of a steep rise in the road you lay your eyes upon your destination; the colossal Great Edge Mountain range far to the North. Pausing for breath you stretch your aching muscles, absorbing the sights around you. Behind you, now far to the south lay the fallen Kingdom of Turinnahd, a once proud and powerful Human empire, shattered centuries ago by war and famine. To the East stretches a hinterland of grassy plains, unmarred by the touch of civilisation, placid and tranquil. The west on the other hand sports a dark stain; overgrown marshland receding into waterlogged swamps. As you and your companions mill around waiting for the stragglers to catch up you turn your attention once more to the North. The dusty road that you travel upon disappears into the distance, swallowed up by the waning light of the setting sun, though there is still enough light to make out the remnants of a watchtower up ahead, another of which can be seen standing drunkenly on the summit of a small tor some distance to the North-West. A river, shining with the fiery brilliance emitted by the dipping sun, runs South-Westerly, just north of the closer tower. You press on, continuing your journey untill you arrive at the broken tower where you decide to halt for the night, lighting a small fire before bedding down for the night between the ancient, lichen covered stones.
You break camp before the rising of the Sun, eager to start the final leg of your journey. Accompanied by a hubbub of birdsong, and with the breaking sun peeking over the horizon to lay its warm touch upon your faces, you can't help but to have a feeling of achievement. In the distance you can already see dirty smudges of smoke denoting a settlement up ahead; the last there is in this undefiled frontier. Tommerast.
By the time you reach the outskirts of the town the sun is high overhead, the spring morning dew long since evaporated, and now you are finally here you find that sense of achievement evaporating too. From what looked like a formidable city sprawling across the countryside from afar, now looks more like a run down hovel. Dozens of unwoked fields and meadows hedged in by dilapidated dry stone walls, adorned with the remnants of abandoned ploughs and various other rusted and broken farming implements surround the settlement. Only the farms closest the city appear to be in use, teams of workmen and women tilling the earth stand testament to that. The cobble stoned avenues are uneven and deeply rutted, weeds and grass pushing up between the cobbles which remain. Dozens of houses and outbuildings lay in various states of disrepair; the ground courses of stone badly pitted, the upper wooden levels blackened, though not with the attributes associated with fire damage. Moving further into town it becomes apparent that this was once a great city; once elegant statues line the main streets, now no more than undefined, lichen covered sentinels standing guard over a city almost as bedraggled as themselves.
Continuing toward the town centre you find the streets becoming more and more lively; men and women going about their daily business, unwashed children playing with a stray dog in the streets, a few carts bearing trade goods preparing for long journeys to far away destinations, though compared to the other towns and cities you have visited on your travels, this place is hardly teeming with life, if anything, this tumble-down seems to be hanging onto the edge of civilisation; a city that was obviously once home to many thousands, now houses only a few hundred. Finally, after navigating your way into the city centre itself you come to a halt at once grand plaza; long ago it would have boasted the wealth of the settlement, but now it gives off a sorry air of destitution. Several establishments are visible from where you stand: The Pitons-to-Pint, obviously a tavern; Kresse's Goods, a general store; a blacksmiths; the town watch, and a garishly decorated building whose sign reads 'Silk & Velvet'.
Welcome to Tommerast...
[sblock]You may have to excuse my first few posts - I'm on tranquilizers at the mo', and maaaan do they scramble your brain!!
The marijuana only serves to exacerbate things even more....
[/sblock]
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