Post by Briena_Skysong on Jun 22, 2012 23:31:26 GMT -5
This Human Village has the misfortune of being right on the edge of the No Man's land between Lycan and Human Territories. They wouldn't have the misfortune, however, if they didn't try to kill any Lycan they see. Or, a worse offence to the Lycan race, try to capture younger Lycans to sell for slaves.
The populace amounts to a varying number, as with each man that dies, a child later replaces his death. For until the next attack from either side, the number of people ranges at around thirty people, with a few children running about.
The Village is poor, like nearly all the Villages in the Human Kingdom, and they lack a few needed people, such as a smithy and a stone-smith. The Village's In and Tavern, The Cat's Inn, is a seedy, falling apart wooden structure in need of fresh wood and new stone base. There is a smell that assaults your nostrils as you enter the stables, one of hoof rot, knee deep manure and moldy hay. The horses within the stalls, unless they are those of travelers, have a tired, worn look about them. Having seen better days, they give an occasional stamp to chase away the rats nibbling at their hooves and legs.
Some of the houses are in better repair than the others, but all the buildings here have a worn look, as though ready to collapse, but stubbornly hanging on. Like the houses, the people have a stubborn look to them, eyes hard and determined. But there's always the glances they toss in all directions, searching for danger. Young women look out from the windows at times, an attempt to protect them from the possibility of attracting the eye of a Lycan during an attack. It hardly ever works.
In small pens, sheep blaat there annoyance at being shut in, and a cow slowly chews moldy hay. A tired old plow horse or two search the ground for any hint of grass, then snort their displeasure at the lack of fodder. Chickens scrabble and scratch along, perhaps the best fed animals in the Village due to the fact that there is never a short supply of insects. The local dogs have noticed this fact, and watch the birds hungrily, waiting for opportunity to arise.
As you look over your shoulder while riding out, you might see a child watching after you, eyes wondering. What would it be like to be on that horse, riding away?
The populace amounts to a varying number, as with each man that dies, a child later replaces his death. For until the next attack from either side, the number of people ranges at around thirty people, with a few children running about.
The Village is poor, like nearly all the Villages in the Human Kingdom, and they lack a few needed people, such as a smithy and a stone-smith. The Village's In and Tavern, The Cat's Inn, is a seedy, falling apart wooden structure in need of fresh wood and new stone base. There is a smell that assaults your nostrils as you enter the stables, one of hoof rot, knee deep manure and moldy hay. The horses within the stalls, unless they are those of travelers, have a tired, worn look about them. Having seen better days, they give an occasional stamp to chase away the rats nibbling at their hooves and legs.
Some of the houses are in better repair than the others, but all the buildings here have a worn look, as though ready to collapse, but stubbornly hanging on. Like the houses, the people have a stubborn look to them, eyes hard and determined. But there's always the glances they toss in all directions, searching for danger. Young women look out from the windows at times, an attempt to protect them from the possibility of attracting the eye of a Lycan during an attack. It hardly ever works.
In small pens, sheep blaat there annoyance at being shut in, and a cow slowly chews moldy hay. A tired old plow horse or two search the ground for any hint of grass, then snort their displeasure at the lack of fodder. Chickens scrabble and scratch along, perhaps the best fed animals in the Village due to the fact that there is never a short supply of insects. The local dogs have noticed this fact, and watch the birds hungrily, waiting for opportunity to arise.
As you look over your shoulder while riding out, you might see a child watching after you, eyes wondering. What would it be like to be on that horse, riding away?