Post by The Forgotten God on Jul 27, 2016 7:01:23 GMT -5
A town of three hundred adults, the small, nearly nameless village was founded on the site of a long ago battle. Artifacts from the great clash can still be found today on occasion, the most recent find of significance a jeweled eye belonging to a long forgotten lord still in its socket. The village consists of two real roads. One runs northwest to southeast and terminates right at the end of the buildings, while the major one winds mostly southwest to northeast and goes on a circuitous route through three small villages until at least it reaches the Searoad.
The nearest village, and the source of most of the town's wives not from the town, was named Fury's Corner by the few who bother to call it anything. It's population was devastated by the recent war; its contingent sent to war were almost all killed in one ten minute span in the great Battle of Highgarden. As such, it's now called the Bachelor's Rest on account of the dozens of maidens with no prospects for marriage.
The town's outskirts are primarily farmland for about a mile in every direction save the west, where the small port sits. No vessel larger than a corsair can dock there, and even the tiniest of the warships of the realm fill nearly half the available space. As such, it's been six long years since any royal ship has stopped in town, and the tavern is filled with local fishermen, or the occasional merchant who ply their trades from the Shields or the Mander north on their way to Lannisport. There are two small taverns, one of which has rooms for travelers that are seldom filled, and a sept sits on the southernmost side of the small village square.
Altogether, one can walk the circumference of the village in twenty minutes at a decent pace, and unless they are called to war few ever bother traveling much more than that inland. Even Bachelor's Rest is seen as a journey to the insular folk, but isolation gives the place a serenity and security difficult to match in more populated areas. Bandits prowl near the sea road, but none have ever bothered to journey the two days it'd take down the long road through the forest to the sleepy town.
West of the sept, at the water's edge, is the small holdfast of Ser Morgan, the bulk of which is taken up by its great hall. The aging knight is generally well liked by the locals, but his war wounds leave him increasingly distant from the current affairs of the hamlet. His few guards do a fair job of maintaining order, usually finding more work in the taverns than anything else. The final place of interest in the town itself is the butcher's shop, run by a grim giant named Grinning Ben. His cattle are always good and his talents at cutting meat in the optimal way are well documented, but it's widely whispered that the butcher is in league with some of the area's less savory elements, raiding and looting towns in the Reach just to the south, in the isolated regions north of Old Oak.
However, no sign of trouble is to be found during the harvest festival for the year, as the crops come in and dances and more are held. Many betrothals are expected over the next several days, and folk come all the way from Lindor along the Searoad to celebrate a fine year of peace and relative plenty.
The nearest village, and the source of most of the town's wives not from the town, was named Fury's Corner by the few who bother to call it anything. It's population was devastated by the recent war; its contingent sent to war were almost all killed in one ten minute span in the great Battle of Highgarden. As such, it's now called the Bachelor's Rest on account of the dozens of maidens with no prospects for marriage.
The town's outskirts are primarily farmland for about a mile in every direction save the west, where the small port sits. No vessel larger than a corsair can dock there, and even the tiniest of the warships of the realm fill nearly half the available space. As such, it's been six long years since any royal ship has stopped in town, and the tavern is filled with local fishermen, or the occasional merchant who ply their trades from the Shields or the Mander north on their way to Lannisport. There are two small taverns, one of which has rooms for travelers that are seldom filled, and a sept sits on the southernmost side of the small village square.
Altogether, one can walk the circumference of the village in twenty minutes at a decent pace, and unless they are called to war few ever bother traveling much more than that inland. Even Bachelor's Rest is seen as a journey to the insular folk, but isolation gives the place a serenity and security difficult to match in more populated areas. Bandits prowl near the sea road, but none have ever bothered to journey the two days it'd take down the long road through the forest to the sleepy town.
West of the sept, at the water's edge, is the small holdfast of Ser Morgan, the bulk of which is taken up by its great hall. The aging knight is generally well liked by the locals, but his war wounds leave him increasingly distant from the current affairs of the hamlet. His few guards do a fair job of maintaining order, usually finding more work in the taverns than anything else. The final place of interest in the town itself is the butcher's shop, run by a grim giant named Grinning Ben. His cattle are always good and his talents at cutting meat in the optimal way are well documented, but it's widely whispered that the butcher is in league with some of the area's less savory elements, raiding and looting towns in the Reach just to the south, in the isolated regions north of Old Oak.
However, no sign of trouble is to be found during the harvest festival for the year, as the crops come in and dances and more are held. Many betrothals are expected over the next several days, and folk come all the way from Lindor along the Searoad to celebrate a fine year of peace and relative plenty.