Post by Stormcrow on May 6, 2006 17:54:18 GMT
You have traveled north for days, and stumble upon a small village of sorts as the light fades from the sky. The road passes several farms, and then comes to what could quite possibly serve as the heart of the village. On one side of the road is a run-down store that appears to offer general merchandise. A few hundred feet down, and past it, is another shop. Its shingle states that it is called the Trinket shop. Both are closed.
A dilapidated inn stands a little off the road, all by itself, and on the opposite side of the road. The inn nonetheless entices you with the faint promise of a bed more comfortable than the ground, possibly some hot food, and perhaps even some decent ale. However, these promises are dicey at best given the inn's appearance.
The main part of the building is about 50 or 60 feet square, and has a peaked roof that is in need of repair. It has the look of age -- as if it had been there since the beginning of time -- and seemingly time alone cannot destroy it. The stone chimney, which releases puffs of smoke slowly and reluctantly, leans in toward the building in a precarious way that leads one to believe it might fall at any time.
The peaked roof has shingles missing but otherwise looks solid. Paint peels from the walls in places and is entirely missing in other places, and the walls have the look of really old weatherworn boards. Smoke comes from somewhere around the back as well. The door that is set in the center of the wall looks solid enough, and the sign swinging in the faint breeze proclaims that the establishment is called the "Bloodlust Inn."
What was once a stable now stands neglected and rundown in the shadows of the trees behind the Inn. It doesnt appear as if anyone uses it anymore; animals are penned in a small paddock behind the stable, which was invisible from the road. An old nag stands listlessly in the grass outside the paddock, and there are 6 other mounts milling about within the pen.
A dilapidated inn stands a little off the road, all by itself, and on the opposite side of the road. The inn nonetheless entices you with the faint promise of a bed more comfortable than the ground, possibly some hot food, and perhaps even some decent ale. However, these promises are dicey at best given the inn's appearance.
The main part of the building is about 50 or 60 feet square, and has a peaked roof that is in need of repair. It has the look of age -- as if it had been there since the beginning of time -- and seemingly time alone cannot destroy it. The stone chimney, which releases puffs of smoke slowly and reluctantly, leans in toward the building in a precarious way that leads one to believe it might fall at any time.
The peaked roof has shingles missing but otherwise looks solid. Paint peels from the walls in places and is entirely missing in other places, and the walls have the look of really old weatherworn boards. Smoke comes from somewhere around the back as well. The door that is set in the center of the wall looks solid enough, and the sign swinging in the faint breeze proclaims that the establishment is called the "Bloodlust Inn."
What was once a stable now stands neglected and rundown in the shadows of the trees behind the Inn. It doesnt appear as if anyone uses it anymore; animals are penned in a small paddock behind the stable, which was invisible from the road. An old nag stands listlessly in the grass outside the paddock, and there are 6 other mounts milling about within the pen.