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Old Weyr
Central Bowl (#8640)
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ORIGINAL: Cradled, childlike, in an easterly mountainous embrace, the steppes of the central bowl nestle cozily between lake and weyr. The latticework of dusty adobe paths spider out from the southerly Weyr Road, the wagon-ruts of which curve lazily to the northeastern bazaar, the adobe sprawl of the New Weyr reflected in the lake that dominates a large portion of outdoor Igen. A small footpath, just as abused, ambles away from the shores, travelling over rock and hill to the northern dragonet complex and branching itself due west to end at the entrance of the blessedly cool inner caverns. One cracked path, faint with disuse, leads southeast to the crumbling ruins of Igen-that-was. All around, the dizzying heights of the caldera's sharp-sloped sides are pocked here and there with ledges, the weyrs' draconic occupants needing no path to guide their way.
CURRENT DAY: Cradled childlike in an easterly mountainous embrace, the steppes of the central bowl nestle cozily between lake and weyr. The latticework of dusty adobe paths spider out from the southerly Weyr Road, wagon-ruts of which curve lazily to the adobe sprawl of the northeastern bazaar. A small footpath, just as abused, ambles away from the lake's shore, travelling over rock and hill to the northern dragonet complex and branching itself due west to end at the entrance of the blessedly cool inner caverns. The abandoned caverns of Igen-that-was lie at the end of one disused tracking. All around, the dizzying heights of the caldera's sharp-sloped sides are pocked here and there with ledges, the weyrs' draconic occupants needing no path to guide their way.
Abandoned Caverns (#25449)
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A tragedy of 400 turns ago wasted this cavern system which was, at its demise, private living quarters. The 'door' barring the entrance is a combination of loose wood planks and lumps of rubble too bothersome to move and suitable to make entering an unattractive past time. Not that there's anything captivating of the interior remains; a legitimate cave in of the base rock obstructs most of the ground though the chamber expands past its original dimensions when the wall to an adjoining room also collapsed. Grit and fine chips of stone carpet the floor, shreds of a rug are visible from under the weight of boulders. There is one undamaged glow sconce, but the vermin calling this abandoned cavern home aren't disclosing its salvageability.
Lake Shore (#9331)
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Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.
Lake (#3838)
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The crystalline focus of the westward stretch of Igen's activity chases frequent, colorful sunsets that sprawl over sparkling azure waters, throwing back Rukbat's brilliance in breathtaking pyrotechnic displays. Clean, crisp waters run still and deep, providing a transparent view of Weyr Lake's aquatic residents and their rocky home below with startling clarity, right down to the tiniest pebble. The glasslike qualities grow murky, however, near southern shores and the inevitability of runoff from the pens and their occupants. To the north, streams flow in a controlled rush downwards into the dark depths of the water caverns, the constant babble echoing through the neighboring ruins of Igen's abandoned complexes, disturbing naught but the tunnelsnakes that call that area 'home'.
Mirror Cavern (#10802)
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Cordoned off from the lake under a cape of stone is a sheltered grotto sized like a dragon weyr. Running water dribbles over the entrance not in any great torrent but lesser strings of liquid. Within, isolated waters assume a perfectly protected calmness pitching prisms of refracted light onto the walls and dome-like ceiling. How they flash when the pool's crystal clear surface is disturbed, serpents of light scattering like tunnel snakes from a lantern. Surfaces are naturally unfinished which explains the varying depths, 2-12 feet, and ability to be comfortly seated. As with any small cavern sounds have a way of being amplified be they swim strokes or nuggets of gossip.
Pens (#5365)
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ORIGINAL: Here thar be pens, in a variety of shapes and sizes fit for all manner of beastie. The largest pens are those housing plump herdbeast for human or draconic consumption. A few of the smaller pens are unoccupied, though there are remnants of their former occupants still evident on ground and fence. The actual pens themselves are made of wood, stick, nail and twine. It's a slap-shod sort of place, kept together by dreams and good luck to hold fast against the winds. In each pen there are troughs for feed and water, and they appear again by the stableside.
CURRENT DAY: Here thar be pens, in a variety of shapes and sizes fit for all manner of beastie. The largest pens are those housing plump herdbeast for human or draconic consumption. A few of the smaller pens are unoccupied, though there are remnants of their former occupants still evident on ground and fence. The actual pens themselves are made solidly constructed, proof of Igen's resilience in improvements. In each pen there are troughs for feed and water, and they appear again by the stableside.
Stables (#18210)
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ORIGINAL: The powerful odor of hot runner lies heavy in the air here, and even the relative open of the stable design - roomy stalls, lofty arches, this is incongruously one of the best designed buildings in the entire Weyr, legacy of a long-ago Weyrleader of Herder origins - cannot altogether dispel the stink of Animal. The Stables serve for the Weyr's population of runners, and house a small menagerie of other creatures. Avians, caprines and porcines all have their homes here, and all add to the earthy feel of the place.
CURRENT DAY: The powerful odor of hot runner lies heavy in the air here. Even the relative open of the stable design, with roomy stalls and lofty arches - incongruously, this must be one of the best designed buildings in the entire Weyr - cannot altogether dispel the stink of beast and the proceeds of such: leather and manure. The stables serve for the Weyr's population of runners, and house a small menagerie of other creatures. Avians, caprines and porcines all have their homes here, and all add to the earthy feel of the place.
Midden (#22041)
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ORIGINAL: Ugh! Whyever did you want to come here? Igen's midden is a miserable and smelly affair, loose piles of shifting garbage tossed haphazardly along the caldera wall. Few things on two legs linger here, for obvious reasons. It is the domain of the four- and six-legged: tunnelsnakes are common here, as are the colony of feral felines who subsist on hunting them.
CURRENT DAY: Ugh! Why did you ever want to come here? Igen's midden will never be a pleasant experience, but the accumulation of the weyr's refuse is penned tidily in long wood-framed trenches along the caldera wall. The demand for the midden's turning is an annual affair, and a miserable one: other than that singular messy incident, few things on two legs linger here, for obvious reasons.
Living Cavern (#3325)
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ORIGINAL: Dim light from hanging glow-globes cannot fully camouflage the ravages of time and neglect on Igen's busy living caverns, though hints of its former glory peek through in the decorative cuts to the cave's natural limestone and the high quality of dusty, tatty-ended tapestries. Here and there, skybroom tables — stained dark by wood finish and a decade of grime — sit in loose groups, flanked by wicker chairs with pointy, broken rattan that pokes out to invariably find unprotected skin. The seemingly randomly placed furniture, however, at closer inspection, forms a sort of cross-shape of negative space. At the northernmost walls and nooks of the caverns, a long buffet table with tarnished lazy susans hosts an array of finger-foods and pitchers for the interested, refilled occasionally by drudges that shuffle in from the curtained entrance to the south, beyond which lies the kitchens. To the east is a large arch leading outside and, across from that, to the west, a set of rattling doors that open to reveal the tunnels and stairs of the inner caverns themselves.
CURRENT DAY: Brightly lit by a regimented march of strung glow-globes, Igen's busy living caverns are cut of the same exotic limestone design that frequents the bazaar without. Tapestries line the tops of the walls, one for each of Igen's wings, past and present; beneath them, skybroom tables litter the floors in scattered profusion. Some of the wicker chairs have seen better days, but most of the worst offenders have long-ago been replaced. The seemingly random placement of furniture, however, at closer inspection yields a sort of cross-shape of negative space. The northernmost walls and nooks of the caverns are owned by the kitchen's buffet, food-laden thrice daily in regimented shifts by busy bakers from the curtained southern entrance to the kitchens. To the east is a large arch leading outside; westerly lies the large doors leading down into the bowels of the weyr itself.
Kitchens (#25441)
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ORIGINAL: Chaos and anomie reign in this hub of food production. It's not so much the smell, which varies from 'faintly edible' to 'coal', as the film of grease that adds a sheen to every surface and glues canine hair to the wall. The area is well set up, of course — it's a large kitchen with more than adequate counter space. There's plenty of room to get around, too, even with the centralized canine spit run dominating the center of the floor. The place is just, well, not 'up to code'. Several large stoves belch smoke that chars the blocked chimney's outer brick. Unidentifiable bits of food have been baked to the floors and ground in by the uncaring trod of drudge shoes. Even the sink is crusty, with it's constant tower of filthy dishes and lack of cleansing sand to be seen anywhere. Add in the bloodied smears on cutting boards and what you have is a monument to cross contamination.
CURRENT DAY: For the benefit of the thousands of souls who will feast off the proceeds of this area, chaos and anomie reign supreme in this hub of Igen's food production. The smell of the place is overwhelming, everything from the butcher's offal to fresh-baked bread assaulting one's olfactory sense. This space is large and well-equipped, with hearths aplenty to shoulder the massive undertaking of feeding the desert crowds; internal to the outer edges, several large stoves belch smoke upward through the stacks, to stain the chimney without. A pair of nooks lie in front of the entrance and the exit, a vain attempt to keep questing individuals from entering too fully within the cook's domain.
Kitchen Courtyard (#23696)
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The domestic space of the kitchen courtyard is small, dusty, slightly over-grown, and practical. The focal point of the stone courtyard is a large well found directly in the middle. Turns have worn the once angled bricks to soft, crumbling curves about the lip, and a bucket always slightly damp is tied, secure, and ready to use at the side. Though a broom has swept here since last you passed through, it would appear the wind-borne dust has merely been heaped under the cobble-cracking shrubs of a stubborn environment that grow ever upward. A few benches are scattered around, but the feel is not comfort, for this small slice of sky and wind are saved for a kitchen staff always on the move.
Cellars (#6463)
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Order at last, here in the cellar: foodstuffs in their proper places, floors cleaned and shelves organized: all the pots, pans, and flatware are properly hung on the walls and stored on their shelves, gleaming with careful cleaning. To one side of the cavern, there is a large outcropping of smoothed rock, permanently stained red: the place where all meat goes to be portioned for cooking. The air is cool and crisp and almost free of humidity and moisture, an astringent tang of salt and herbs hanging heavy in the air.
Cold Storage (#8111)
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Halite forms a thick, hoary frost on the walls, forever preserving the contents held within and offering up a somewhat bitter aftertaste to the still, chilly air. Frozen solid, carcasses are stacked like grotesque statuary against the far reaches of the walls, row upon row of foot-tagged herdbeast and fowl gleaming amid solid blocks of ice. The wintry chill of the place does little to dissipate the stench of blood that hangs,ominous, in the air; dry, coppery, permanent. The floors are covered in hides to contain any melt-off, while raised walkways between the aisles of food prevent contamination by human foot traffic and make it more difficult for the occasional pest to get at the Weyr's precious foodstuffs.
Inner Caverns (#25437)
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ORIGINAL: Faded elegance attests to former glory, the soot-covered ceiling sparkling with faint traceries of golden glitter. High, vaulted curves of the smooth limestone wavering whose variant hues of sandy gold and wheaten brown form rising, wave-like patterns that hold the sparkle of silver here and there. A long, wide cavern, this: various arches lend access to other caverns, while the noise of daily activity is often amplified by the natural acoustics of this open space.
CURRENT DAY: In understated elegance lies the mellow glory of Igen's inner caverns, the stone of vaulted ceilings sparkling with faint traceries of golden glitter. High curves of smooth limestone wavering between sandy gold and wheaten brown form rising, wave-like patterns that still hold the sparkle of silvere here and there. A long, wide cavern, this: various arches lend access to other caverns, whilst the noise of daily activity is frequently amplified by the natural acoustics of this open, airy space.
Stores (#7927)
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ORIGINAL: Boxes, everywhere: some are buried beneath the fugue of dust and spinner-webs, thrust unceremoniously into unseen corners, full of mysterious contents, their solid lids as yet unbroached. Still others line the dirt-smeared walls, damage evident in the caved-in sides or lids set askew. Littering the floor, debris has been left piled in disorganization, left untouched by inattentive drudges and administrative staff. Dull glows splutter feebly in their worn baskets, and the air is fusty and moist, shrouded in the humidity that is Igen. Moisture collects, languid, in the corners of the cavern, lending their own fragrance of mildew and green, growing things,while the occasional dry scratch of scales suggests inhabitants one might not want to inspect too closely.
CURRENT DAY: Only by sheer willpower has this room turned to the better in the last decade — for it once was an ominous room of discord and decay, but no more. Boxes and bins are everywhere, sorted in meticulous order. Glows hang from regular interval, the painstaking commodity of all fanatical storekeepers: light, to better see those who return items they got from Bin A into Bin B. Moisture collects in the air, a long-running war between those assigned to work these halls and the air itself — so far, the workers seem to be winning, but in the end, everyone dies.
Administrative Corridor (#21069)
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ORIGINAL: This hall must once had a glory about it, surely: there is a grand geometry to its graceful archways, and a grave beauty to its even stonework. Yet this hallway bears the veneer of disinterest as plain as the rest of the Weyr. The floors go unswept, the walls unwashed: a thin layer of green growth coats many a corner. (Moss, feeding off the light of the glows. Well - let's hope it's moss.) Grime clings to grout lines, spinner webs dangle from the glorious archways. Only the occasional footstep stirs the dusty floors, for most of the Weyrfolk have little occasion to venture here.
CURRENT DAY: There is a grand geometry to the graceful archways of this hall, a point of glory to the veneer of freshly-polished floors that are somehow upkept in a more fastidious nature here than in the common areas. Directly westward lies the restored doorway into Igen's modest archives, whilst the northern-bound traveler will find themselves entrenched in the hub of weyr leadership, athrum with activity within the council chambers.
Archives (#20651)
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ORIGINAL: A grand room, lost to more pressing concerns, the Archives hold many treasures well past their prime, from instruments to examples of older flying gear and agenothree tanks. Faded and disused Records lean tiredly against their shelves, their bindings peeling and creating layers of dust on surfaces long left without maintenance. The floors are dirty, various footprints creating crisscrossing paths between rickety wooden chairs and drunkenly off-kilter tables. Columns rise upward to the ceiling, hung with glow-baskets scarcely tended and fast losing their strength. The hum of activity is duller, here in this forgotten space — few visit in search of historical facts.
CURRENT DAY: A remarkable legacy for those with the eyes to appreciate it, Igen's Archives are modest, in proportion to the weyr's similarly modest status; but though they be small, the room itself is mighty, with grandiose portent to the high, vaulted arches. These walls hold many treasures past their prime, from instruments to examples of older flying gear and agenothree tanks. The meticulous task of re-scribing old records is continually ongoing, with faded and disued hides replaced on a daily basis. The chairs and off-kilter tables seem to be heritage of a time long past, not in line with the rest of the vision of this room; but in all weyrs are budgets, and perhaps you've found one of Igen's budget cuts.
Council Chamber (#2488)
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ORIGINAL: However disheveled the corridor outside might lie, THIS room - the sole dominion of the Weyr's upper elite - is always sparkling, ever swept, ever dusted, its walls scrubbed free of the grime of ages. A certain spartan grandeur fills the Council Chamber, with its foreboding stonework and heavy wooden door. A round table fills the bulk of the space, an ancient creation of fire-hardened wood, carved with the three dune'd symbol of Igen Weyr. Chairs surround: hard-backed things (with thin cushions) for the most part, but two grandiose chairs, on opposite sides of the table, that seat Weyrwoman and Weyrleader. The walls are lined with elegant old tapestries, depicting scenes of ancient Igen glories.
CURRENT DAY: Once disproportionately grandiose, the recent regimes have scaled the gaudy aura of Igen's council rooms down to better match the fit of the work executed within these walls. Spartan still, with foreboding stonework and a heavy wooden door, the innards of the room are swallowed by a giant round table, an ancient creation of fire-hardened wood carved with the three dunes of Igen. Comfortable chairs surround that monolith to authority, all similar but two, grandiose things left as memories of a past mentality. The walls are lined with elegant old tapestries, depicting scenes of ancient Igen glories.
Candidate Barracks (#19362)
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ORIGINAL: Hopes, dreams, and fears are contained in these cramped quarters, full of small cots and smaller trunks; thin ragged curtains barely provide privacy between the bunks, shining patches in the material suggesting one too many mending attempts. The minimal floor space is kept clear of debris and personal possessions, wide enough for a single broad table often used for study in the art of dragon care. Here, too, humidity has gathered into high corners, running down the walls and creating a slightly unpleasant atmosphere of damp and mildew. Near the entrance, one cubby exists, large enough to contain a bit of luxury for an adult overseer of the candidates, and a desk — for once in reasonable shape — is set to the left of the entrance, conveniently placed for the monitoring of comings and goings.
CURRENT DAY: Hopes, dreams, and fears are contained in these cramped quarters, full of small cots and smaller trunks; thin ragged curtains barely provide privacy between the bunks, shining patches in the material suggesting one too many mending attempts. The minimal floor space is kept clear of debris and personal possessions, wide enough for a single broad table often used for study in the art of dragon care. It is a cramped space despite it all, when dragoneggs lie upon the Sands: there's no helping the worn surroundings, when use is at an all-time high. Near the entrance, one cubby exists, large enough to contain a bit of luxury for an adult overseer of the candidates, and a desk — for once in reasonable shape — is set to the left of the entrance, conveniently placed for the monitoring of comings and goings.
Infirmary (#24498)
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From the astringent smell of redwort, to the gleam of counter and cabinet, this place positively defines the concept of antiseptic cleanliness. Despite the yawning exit to the Dragonhealer Courtyard, the floors remain scrupulously swept of sand and particulate matter. Back behind the counter where the healers usually are, are shelves full of bottles and jars, as well as cupboards hiding away more delicate items that shouldn't be exposed to too much sand. Beyond the counter, there is the Desk, where patients are checked in and taken to one of the examination areas by a healer. The windows are usually kept open for the flow of air, but there is both shutters to shut out dust storms, and curtains for other occasions.
Dragonhealer Yard (#18605)
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Painfully elegant, a stubborn brand of cleanliness is retained in the gentle colors of faded murals and various curtains hung from the rusted metal poles meant to shelter injured dragons on spacious couches lining the permanently soot-stained limestone walls. Of a dusty no-color somewhere between brown and gold, the floor extends onward, fading beneath ragged cabinets built to withstand anything from lashing draconic tails to various medicinal spills.
Ground Weyrs (1511)
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Spacious by necessity, the slightly grimy atmosphere of these weyrs house couches made to fit dragons of various sizes and in various states of health, each with feeding and watering stations near to hand, as well as the necessary medical aids to treat any draconic illness. A small alcove offers up a different view: Healer's records stashed in meticulous order on a shelf, a cluttered desk full of hidework in process, and a polished small basin where fresh water may be poured. Above it, a small rocky shelf protrudes, holding various cleaning supplies in neatly labeled containers: redwort is most prevalent, followed by numbweed.
North Bowl (#4421)
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In the quieter spaces of the Northern Bowl, there is less activity; all is kept serene for young, forming draconic bonds. Beneath the sweep of skies' ever-changing colors, this round little panorama hosts the short distances between the Hatching Cavern and the weyrlings' ultimate destination: the barracks and training grounds. More packed dirt and tiny little hillocks than clean white sand, the floor is an uneven thing, a startling trap for the unwary and the clumsy. Further onward, the Ground Weyrs beckon, a haven for those who may seek medical attention.
Hatching Cavern Entryway (#22735)
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Ominous, this place, in the way only a chamber of hopes fulfilled and dreams dashed can be. The tunnels of this lofty corridor have a spartan elegance to them, but they are ultimately utilitarian in nature. One leads out onto the Sands, and a blaze of heat accompanies every step towards it; the other leads towards a wide staircase, by which the galleries may be accessed. A threadworn banner hangs high from the curved roof: Igen's three dunes, yellow and black.
Galleries (#22605)
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Though occasionally cleaned by ambitious (or neurotic) drudges or weyrbrats being disciplined, the lack of Eggs over the last several Turns has led to the Galleries falling into a state of disrepair. Sand can be found…well, everywhere. On the benches, under the benches, on the railings and walkways. There is also the random tidbit leftover from people who've wandered into the gathering place since the last cleaning. A random bit of cloth here, a bit of something that might have been a carving-in-progress once there.
Sands (#22592)
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The out-of-doors of Igen Weyr seems a blissful respite from the oppressive heat of this sandy colosseum. Heated from beneath by volcanic vents, the air above the hatching sands shimmers, lending a sort of unreal, dream-like quality to the area beyond even the magic that happens here at Impressions. Despite its blistering temperatures, the sands are incongruously soft, almost powdery, and flat save for the worn stone queen's bower that rises up to break the monotony and provide a place of respite for the doting mother-to-be.
Weyrling Training Grounds (#22586)
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Here, a wide and spacious field, devoid of all but more of the glare of ubiquitous, fine white sand of Igen: not even a blade of grass dares lift its head against centuries of clumsy draconic antics. To one side, ever-present firestone bins are set, kept supplied by many a hand, while agenothree tanks line the curving angle just outside the barracks, primed and ready for use. Very often, a glimpse of classes in session or dragonets at play may be caught under the open sky under the watchful eye of diligent Weyrlingmasters and older dragons.
Weyrling Barracks (#23066)
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A cluster of small buildings punches out from the Weyr's walls here, each building just spacious enough to admit a few growing weyrlings and little else. Each has its own sturdy little hide covering the entrance to provide a modicum of privacy to its occupants, and a large stone basin for meat or water stands ready nearby. The Weyrlingmaster's office sits to one side, the smallest building in the area often doubling as class space. Within that space, the pale salted walls are covered with various charts, maps, and informational diagrams. In the small yard surrounded by these buildings, tables and chairs stand ready to seat as few or as many weyrlings as needed. A small hearth is situated at the nearest wall wall, with a small assortment of pots and kettles available to heat food or boil water, whether for cleaning or for klah.
Weyrlingmaster's Office (#25463)
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The Weyrlingmaster's office sits to one side. There are smaller desks for the assistants, one or two often sharing, and a larger desk belonging to the Weyrlingmaster. Much like the classrooms, the walls are covered in charts and diagrams, and an unsettling amount of hidework is always taking up the desks.
Leadership Ledges (#12841)
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Set into a low-inclined hill at the base of the northernmost caldera wall, the Leadership Ledges are precisely what it sounds like: the echoing weyrs of Igen's golden dams are to be found here, alongside that of the Weyrleader. Hollowed out caves in porous rock are given grand facades on the exterior, each ledge exterior decorated with elegant walls and well-carved windows, with tidy little outbuildings housing a queen's worth of draconic necessities. Yet even this place shows Igen's dishevel: greenery lies thick on the slopes, too haphazard to be intentional beauty.
Standing Stones (#16438)
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It is perhaps a pity that the Standing Stones lie in quiet isolation, half-forgotten in the Weyr's easternmost corner. Or perhaps it is inevitable: the grandiose beauty of these red rocks is ill-suited to Igen's coarse grit, and maybe only their loneliness allows them to survive unmarred. Whatever the reason, it cannot be denied that the Standing Stones, a lonely jumble of ancient boulders, have a glory about them. The tumbled field of pillars and arches has been shaped by eons of wind and water into strange shapes, twisted and rutted. The going is treacherous: only the Weyr's half-feral herd of caprines navigates the terrain with any ease. To the northwest, the lakeshore glimmers; to the east, rough-carved steps lead towards another ancient pile of rocks - though the Star Stones are less haphazardly placed than their Standing cousins.
Star Stones (#16810)
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The climb up here on foot is steep, narrow stone steps carved high into the sandstone, and from the top the precipice-drop to the jagged-craggy stones far, far below is treacherous. It's a wide sweep of ledge, a dragonlength and a half jutting out from a rough cliff wall. The wind here is ceaseless, dusty-dry during daytime and biting at night. But for those who brave the climb to this lookout perched high above the Weyr's bowl, the view from these sandy-red rocks is breathtaking. Igen stretches wide-wide-wide around, a vast expanse of deep blue lake and lush green swamp and the myriad rust-rich colours of desert and rock. The real purpose of this spot, though, is highlighted not in its view of what is below but its view of what is above. Three tall rocks stand, one balanced across the tops of the other two, at the focal point of the ledge, perpetually framing one slice of the desert sky beyond.
New Weyr
Akzhan Tenement Apartments (#2809)
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Tightly packed apartments jam together in an old adobe building that had once seen better bygone days of a different era. At the edge of the Bazaar, far away from the poshest places in the Bazaar, this three-story adobe-sandstone building has been repurposed from derelict disrepair to a place to house the poorest of Bazaar residents. Cheap accommodations lie within but boast of little creature comforts. Tenement housing operated by the Akzhan means missed payments get dealt with harshly, but repairs come months too late. Very few apartments have windows, though there are some, and more people than anyone can shake a stick at live crammed into tiny, layered apartments. Privacy is rare, as every apartment can hear what happens in the ones around, and doors are often a luxury where hanging linens are the norm in the lowest levels and cheapest accommodations. Only a fool would live here, or those hiding from secrets best not discovered.
Central Bazaar (#9722)
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All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.
Dustbowl Cantina (#16703)
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To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.
Cantina Back Alley (#19237)
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A little too quiet, a little too dim. The alleyway behind the Dustbowl is not…unpleasant, exactly; the tavern staff have a little raised garden, and the brickwork of the ancient buildings all around offers a subtle beauty, with raised arches leading into little courtyards. And yet. There's something uncomfortable about the way the shadows linger here. Something distressing about the stink of the place, quite unrelated to the midden that lies at its end. Whatever else this alley might be, one thing is as certain as the goosebumps it gives: it's not a place for good little girls and boys.
Caravan Grounds (#21935)
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Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.
Auction Yard (#10718)
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Here is a place of two extremes. Either packed full of men and beasts or else nearly vacant. When busy, animals bellow and the sounds of lively barter fill the air. The pens are completely packed and it's a wonder how they all got into one location in the first day as herders try to sell off as many as they can for the best price, while buyers fight for a steal. But when there aren't auctions scheduled for a given day, the yards might as well be a ghost town occupied by nothing but sand and herdbeast patties.
Resident Terraces (#23194)
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Scoured by sand, storm, and sun, the bleached-gold face of the caldera wall is punctured here by gaping rock maws: within reside a multitude of little abode-brick buildings, colorful hides stretched across windows and doorways to protect against more unfortunate weather. No traditional dormitory, this: Igen's weyrfolk live in family groups or packs of singletons in these cozy brick abodes, dwellings doled out on a first-come, first-serve basis. Here and there, steep stone staircases wend their way between spacious stone ledges, their outer edges protected by the ingenious use of stone blocks to prevent being pitched over the side in high winds. Below, the Central Bazaar is spread, replete with the sounds of everyday life in the Weyr: the bawl of beasts, the shouts of bargains being made, and the happy laughter of the occasional child all raised in a cacophony life.
Creche (#23679)
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Conflicting ideas or architects developed this chamber round at first until right angles took over for the arc still without sacrificing much in the way of spatial efficiency. Matching the flat lines of the left side are single cots with a few double tiered representations should space be at a premium. Nannies enjoy the luxury of larger, higher bed frames or hammocks which flank the woven baskets containing infants. Ample blankets and sheepskins bloom a variety of colors, syncing with circular braided rugs to make the creche comfortably snug (and more soundproof). A few playthings on wheels and strings, straw-woven dolls and sturdy stick animals compile a roster of toys on the semicircle side of the cavern.
Shared Oven (#18395)
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Even in the heat of summer, a fire will always be found here and that’s the point. Stationed conveniently close to the residents terraces, the back wall of this courtyard is taken up by a massive brick oven with constant delectable aromas wafting out of it. For a token amount for to contribute towards the fuel and maintenance costs, a dish can be left to cook in the oven during the day. The omni-present crowd of aunties and uncles will take turns out of their routine of gossip and card games to occasionally check on the dishes under their care and stoke the fire. And if after a long, hard day of work, someone is too hungry to wait to get home and eat, there’s a few tables set up around a lone tree.
Crafter Quarters
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Set high against the steep slope of the Weyr caldera, the Crafter Quarters lie subtly removed from the Bazaar below them. They bustle, but it is a slower bustle from the mercantile flurry: the scurry of Apprentices being sent on errands, the muffled shouts of irate Masters, the bursts of bangs and clicks and clacks as Crafters carry out their work. The familiar abode brick buildings of Igen line this little web of streets, some colorfully painted, some drab and dull. With the portioning of space first come and first serve, some Crafts have laid claim to multiple buildings, while others are forced to share space - sometimes in rather incongruous ways. Private rooms are the domain of Journeymen and Masters, while Apprentices must make do with cramped dormitories, when they are not reduced to claiming mere corners.
Apprentice Dorms (#4237)
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It is obvious at first glance this room is designed for little beyond rest and quiet study. Starting several paces from the door, narrow cots line the walls to either side of the door, one side meant for female apprentices, one for male, with a divider running the length of the narrow room and curtains hiding the sleeping area from view. The nearest area offers a couple small tables with lightly cushioned wooden chairs, and there might sometimes be a pitcher of water, or perhaps even klah if someone has been enterprising enough.
Smithy (#20559)
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The Smith's area is certainly not the prime real-estate in the crafter's section of the Weyr: but, true to Smith form, they've taken what they were given and made the best of it. At the tail end of a maze of winding streets, an iron gate is set within adobe brick walls, opening up into a narrow courtyard. Cracked cobblestones and paths overgrown with native grasses mar the place, though the influx of Oldtimers brings signs of improvement. A few gnarled trees provide shade over stone benches for people to sit and talk. In the back corner of the courtyard, where it can be shaded by the surrounding buildings, is a rather large copper still.
Off of this central area, there are several wooden doorways opening into the four sides of the small buildings flanking this narrow courtyard. To the left is the metalworking wing, its windows often kept open to keep air flowing and prevent the buildup of toxic fumes. On the opposite side of the courtyard, away from the metal's fires, is the woodcrafting wing. Straight ahead, opposite the entrance gate, are the living quarters - with apprentices on the bottom floor, and stone steps leading to the second floor offices and higher ranking sleeping quarters. Along the wall with the gate, there are various classrooms and working rooms with windows opening out to the streets beyond, so that their wares can be displayed for passersby to see - and hopefully purchase.
Tannery (#7178)
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Nestled in a distant corner of the bazaar, you might be able to overlook the turn that leads you to the heart of the tanners’ quarters, but anybody with a working nose can't miss it completely. Vats of various odiferous compounds and hides in all stages of preparation dominate this open aired courtyard. Despite the smells, business must be done and various crafters can always be seen going about their daily duties.
Public Baths (#22376)
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Stout walls have been erected around several naturally formed pools, serving to provide a semblance of privacy and protection from the harsh wind and sand. Above the pools, well cleaned walkways criss-cross beneath tiled arches and descend with a stairway or two leading down to each pool to provide one means of slip-free access through the area. Surrounding the pools there are benches, receptacles to put used clothing and towels in, and areas to get sweetsand and towels from - if you didn't bring your own.
Guardhouse (#7596)
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ORIGINAL: Ancient, half-crumbling, and more than a little pathetic: Igen Weyr's guardhouse is a weathered thing, one to which little enough love has been shown. Theoretically a two-story building, the staircase into the upper quarters has long since rotted away to collapse, and a creaky ladder leads up into what once were barracks, but now serve as storage for miscellaneous and half-forgotten equipment and assorted rubbish. The downstairs has faired little better: trestle tables serve as both crude desks and cruder staging areas, while the small administrative office reeks more of booze than paperwork. Only the brig is halfway well-maintained, though it's still a pathetic thing: cramped and unsanitary, with a single dingy cot and dusty latticed window.
CURRENT DAY: What was once nigh-obsolete has been wrought anew in understated radiance: Igen Weyr's guardhouse has always been a weathered thing, but now the two-storied building shines with a little more gloss than the dilapidation of yore. Gutted and refit with a brighter interior, new wood lends itself to a staircase upward to the guard quarters and to long, functionally-assertive desks that sweep behind the main focus of the room. Determinedly upright, the entrance desk allows the one on shift full sight of the room, and requires all comers to submit in lowered-height submission against the glory of the rough-shined skybroom.
Guard Barracks (#8539)
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Rough, practical: this is space for those seeking a decent night's rest or a nap between shifts, but precious little more. Simple living abides between recently remortared walls of sandstone and brick, lined east and west in rows of single bunks. Each claims ownership to a solid chest of iron and heavy wood, simple sheets of linen, and - in constant battle against the smell of dirty guard - crushed rush-sprigs of fragrant herbs. The northern wall is dominated by a section obscured from view containing a necessary and cubicles housing large metal tubs for bathing, if someone requires the privacy of a hand-drawn bath rather than the public baths two doors over.
Bazaar Sidestreet (#6734)
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No matter the time of day, the darkness here is almost absolute, adding a certain je ne sais quois that borders on the treacherous. Here and there, cobblestones have gone missing and leave holes that are perfect for snagging the feet of the unaware. The stench is also criminal, a mixture of urine, rotting meat, and other things best left unexamined in the heaps that pile up next to the back doors of certain of the bazaar establishments.
The Pit (#3920)
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One does not enter The Pit so much as descend into it. Why else the name? The Steen ancestors paid for their square footage with sweat, excavating the area and building curved walls up around it. Wide, smooth steps descend into a large entry area that overlooks the pit and galleries. Floors, ceilings and walls have been whitewashed with limestone paste, increasing the amount of light reflected back from the numerous glow baskets hung on the walls. A rounded doorway to the right leads one into the business' "office", which is furnished in spartan style: cushions for kneeling or sitting upon, a desk that's low to the ground constructed of the same whitewashed stone as the rest of the building, and niches carved out of the walls themselves for decorative pieces. Here is a small sculpture of men wrestling, there is a wooden carving of a champion with a foot upon his vanquished foe.
Continuing on through the lobby brings one to another set of six stairs that descend into the galleries surrounding the sand-filled pits. A low wall separates audience from combatants, but even at its highest point, those in the galleries are never more than twenty feet away from the action. The sand is raked daily, with fresh sand added whenever the blood to soil ratio becomes too great.
Viewing Balcony (#22348)
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A set of winding stairs is followed by another wider stair of carved white stone. A mural of simple flowering design in scarlet hues winds its way up the inside of the staircase. The top of the stair opens up to reveal a wide balcony. It's clear that the Steens have spared no expense when it comes to their personal balcony. Short columns enclose the area, carved in pristine white stone. Rugs lay strewn in a thoughtful chaos, woven with a myriad of bright colors, and a handful of divans sit close to the railings, that their occupants may watch matches in comfort. More pillows than can be counted, and in as many colors, lay scattered about divans and floor alike, soft and plush. Aromatic candles reside in this cranny and that, ensuring that the space remains pleasant to all the senses, no matter what stench threatens from the stands below. At the balcony's edge, the entirety of the Pit is laid out before the viewer, in all its violence and splendor. During events, guards stand by at the bottom of the wide stair as their Steen masters entertain favored guests. Fruit sits by for the hungry viewer, replenished daily, and rarely is a server not present to fetch what is not readily available.
Rosie's Daughters (#11753)
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Not the largest building in the Bazaar, nor the finest, Rosie's still has that little something extra to pull in customers- namely, escorts. And for them to ply their trade, there must need be room to mingle, to catch the eye of potential clients. To this purpose, the main room of Rosie's has been furnished with multiple functions in mind. Much of the room is given over to a parlor setting where floors and walls are covered with intricately patterned rugs and chaise lounges provide comfortable seating. To the right is an area where low to the floor tables have been placed, on which girls have been known to dance. To the left, beyond a slight outcropping wall to designate it as a separate room is the bar. A short counter, behind which a bartender does a brisk trade in spirits and water. Also to the left are a number of tables intended not for dancing, but for cards and dice, both of which draw as many regular customers as the girls themselves do. A doorway to the rear of the parlor leads to a hallway from which many rooms can be reached, but one may only pass through the arch in the company of one of Rosie's many daughters.
La Salonne (#3244)
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It is called the leisure house of Pern for some tidy numbers of reason: past the high walls of the Auvergne Quarter lies a march of a colonnade, behind which swing large doors into a peaceful environment of pleasure. Tastefully accoutred in green and gold and black, the front of the house is home to reclining chaises and scented ponds, easy pours of wine and light conversation. Deeper into the facilities, hallways embroider the tapestry of the Auvergne presence: the hub of activity around the section where clothing is made particularly, and… more private areas, before even reaching the very depth of the quarter, where the Auvergne claim living quarters.
Steen Living Quarter (#16000)
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Air permeates differently here; even streets ahead of the destination, where buildings had begun to rise higher, trimmed with increasingly more decorative elements until the threshold has crossed into it: Steen territory. Here, dwellings have been embellished with not just stone but clay and the hubris of wood – sparingly. White-washed ivory towers and rounded gold or turquoise domes create this quarter’s skyline. The architecture is full of arches and of overhangs trailing alternating red and white bricks or intricate brick red doormats and window hangings. Green doors or blue painted first floor exteriors lend even more color and vivacity to the attractive settings of expansive but close-knit residences or social gathering areas. The ground is kept clean, with traces of the once-started road project throughout in scattered dots of stone and the toughest desert flowers bloom in vast amounts – conveniently mostly red. Day or night, the Steen Quarter changes little in atmosphere: the Steen men are armed, and the Steen women are covered; guests not desiring to be discourteous should note both.
Financial Quarter & Treasury (#12904)
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Interlocking perpendicular lines of broad, decorative, housing begins to even out and then becomes a single main street of somber business and trade for the Steens and their associates. Each building, one next to the other, increases down the lane in both wealth and security. None of the buildings have – visible – back entrances, and all their windows face the main walkway. Their stripes or dashes of color appear like a code across each facade, feeding information to those who will know. The stone-edged street eventually dead-ends into a man-made hill that also extends deep into the ground. Sitting atop, a tall white-washed dome, ringed with straight or curving elements like the walls of a labyrinth. Great pillars lift off from within and gold paint attracts Rukbat to kiss the building with its favor all day. This is the guise of the Steen Treasury building. Only those who’ve trespassed with business will know that this brilliantly designed attraction is not where transactions take place. There is extensive architecture beneath the ground, the deepest room of which is the office of the Treasurer. Connected by an adjoining wall is the office of the appraisers, examiners of gems and makers of jewelry.
Sidestreet Shops
The Tea Room (#26513)
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This shop is easy to miss from the street. It bears the same striped awning that most shops have, this one in shades of lilac and sand, but it has no sign save for a plaque of sandstone hung beside the door, on which a teacup has been carved. When open, the heavy curtain that covers the doorway is pulled aside to allow entry. After stepping through, one will find themselves in a tiny space decorated with classic desert touches.
The walls are whitewashed to increase the sense of light within but the floor is tiled in hues of blue and green, with each tile bearing in its center a brilliant red lotus. There are only five small tables, all of them of dark, heavily carved wood set low to the ground. To sit at one requires reclining on the plethora of pillows and cushions and layered rugs provided for that purpose; each seat is provided with a carved wooden back-prop to rest the pillows against, for those who want spinal support. Tea is served from the service at the rear of the room, where a tiny smokeless hearth keeps water heated, and a row of trays are kept loaded with teapots, tiny cups, and containers for sweetener. There is a small selection of fruits, breads and cheeses also available for those looking for a snack but this is not a place for heavy meals.
The Menagerie (#20062)
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The labyrinth of square geometry was once a familial compound purchased by the Steens and reinvented to display animals of a different kind. A 10-foot high wall of neat stone and adobe encloses the menagerie's total property and in front, a trefoil arch with a gate leads the way into a small courtyard improved by several rock gardens and succulents, some many meters tall. Beyond brilliant alabaster pillars are quarters for a variety of animals: a pair of giant white cattle on loan from Igen Hold's closed herd, whersports from southern jungles, a dynasty of desert-dwelling snakes, and in a well-shaded enclosure heaped with boulders: a young watchwher still growing into his wing stubs.
In the northeast corner stretches many desert willows and a freshwater pool 3-feet deep at its margins, stocked with a breeding colony of pinioned waterfowl, striped and vivid-colored, once called mandarins.
Many benches are placed for strategic loitering, though a full troupe of firelizards with the run of the place monitor for wrongdoings and safety of the animals. The newness of the menagerie and several empty quads tell of more animals to come.
Strange Oddities (#23051)
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A nicely sized apartment, with shuttered windows that look out over the sea. The room seems bare without furniture, though.
Racetrack (#13507)
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The Racetrack has been a fixture of Igen Weyr for several centuries, though it's situated a little walk from the Weyr proper towards the steppe. The great sweep of the oval course is overseen at one end by a wooden structure of tiered seating. Races take place on a regular basis and the annual championship draws crowds from as far away as Keroon Sea Hold. The desert track is famous for providing a demanding and treacherous race, and seeing runners and riders risk their necks is all part of the appeal. This doesn't stop people bringing their children along, and race days are a curious split between a family day out for some and a chance for others to seriously misbehave. Gambling, drinking and whoring are all encouraged in the few adobe buildings that cluster at one end of the track — and the guards are far enough away that it's usually privately hired Akzhan muscle that keeps the peace.
Behind the Racetrack are the training grounds, used to prepare both jockeys and the runners bred by the family. Akzhan stock is famous across the northern continent for its speed and stamina.
Tunnelsnake Fighting Ring (#1065)
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Access to this shady of shadiest forms of gambling entertainment is yielded only to those who are in the know or are cautiously invited. Comfort is hardly a thought here; the room itself is cramped and often uncomfortable if too many are in attendance. Here one can observe and bet on the bloodsport within a makeshift pit meant to hold nothing more than a pair of unfortunate tunnelsnakes. The stones of the pit have been stained nearly black from the numerous rounds that have come before and a faint metallic scent lingers on the air.
Wild Hearts Auction Yard (#1289)
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Road Rooms
Weyr Plateau (#25310)
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A stripe of packed earth designates the central route connecting the Weyr to prominent geographical and urban points outside of the walled complex. Pale knobby rocks line the roadsides, cast there by hand and foot with purpose in mind, lining the periphery in grades of pebbles to boulders. This site is under constant incursion from wind-blown sand and if not regularly maintained the road would eventually be interred. Silt becomes more prominent underfoot further east where the lake lies.
Crater Lake (#1129)
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Four centuries ago, a chunk of the very comet that drove some Oldtimers forward crashed to the desert near Igen Weyr, collapsing the original inner caverns and breaking through to a new spring that now feeds into Igen’s underground aquifer. The result? Beauty from destruction - a long, crystalline lake of brilliant sapphire blue. Sharp sandstone rings the water in jagged peaks, where sparse desert shrubs cling to steep, sandy slopes and reflect darkly on the pristine, mirror-like surface. Out in the midst of the lake, a small island pierces the glassy plane, umber from azure in a near-perfect cone. A startling break in the stark desert and savannah surrounding the Weyr, the crater lake sits like a jewel in the rough - a picturesque, inviting respite from the rough, dry terrain beyond.
Weyr Pass Road (#23659)
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The temperature begins ever-so-gradually to drop as you travel further into the foothills of the Central Pass. Largely inhospitable and difficult to traverse, it is no wonder most traffic converges on this narrow dip through the mountains: a hospitable pass that runs east-west, deep-rutted with the marks of centuries' of wagon ruts and runner hooves. To your northeast, Igen Weyr is now clearly distinguishable from the other mountains in the range, and the eastern roadway splinters, a trail running up towards the plateau at its feet.
Oasis Inn (#9656)
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Tucked into a small fold of foothills along the road leading from the Weyr to the Central Pass, this inn truly is just what its name implies - an oasis for travelers coming from either direction. Stabling and board are available - though the boarding comes at a price, since there isn’t much of it. The most well known part of the Inn is the tavern - a rustic bar built of solid skybroom and furnished in dark, oiled wood, leather, metal, and glass. Though well used and sometimes abused, the furniture is also well cared for and maintained, and the food and drink draw many a rider in alongside the travelers. The décor is eclectic, consisting in hangings, rugs, carvings, and other things from every region of Pern, bestowed upon the owner in barter for lodging. The atmosphere isn’t one of a dive; it’s cozier and cleaner than that, though there is just a touch of harmless “shady” to be found - particularly in the evenings.
Weyr Road (#23640)
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A few scraggly trees cling to the river shoreline here, but they quickly give way to sand and rock to the west. The desert stretches on between the Hold and the Weyr, following the river South. The going is rough and treacherous, with little to look at save the looming mountains of the Central Range to the north, where Igen Weyr may be found. The sky seems to go on forever, seeming so high and expansive that it's almost disorienting to look up. Few travelers venture far from the life-giving water, and the wagon ruts run deep.
Igen River Road (#23770)
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The scent of mud fills the air here, rich and organic. The source, of course, is the broad brown river to your east: the mighty Igen, Pern's largest, and the heart of life in its namesake Hold. The buzz of vtols and cries of wherries mingle with the rumble of carts and chatter of people, for this part of the road lies at the foot of Igen Hold. The road stretches north from here, towards the just-visible mountain range that houses Igen Weyr.
Igen Hold Central Courtyard (#9743)
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Below the bizarrely twisted and honeycombed sandstone cliffs that comprise the face of Igen Hold, a wide courtyard cobbled in flat, pale terra cotta brickwork stretches out to greet visitors approaching from the road that winds along the red palisades above the Igen River. Kept mostly clean of Igen’s ever-pervasive sand, the stone lawn is edged by covered walkways that open onto the space via dozens of carved archways. Glowbaskets hang from wrought iron mounts at regular intervals beneath stone awnings, and each corner boasts a proud statue of a stylized dragon in sandstone. Most gather in the shade of the walkways during the heat of the day, but when twilight sets in, the Hold denizens can be found milling about the yard as the desert air cools, their paths illuminated by torches wedged into engraved stone wall sconces on the columns framing each arch.
Central Range Caves
Hunter’s Pass (#3694)
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Veering off from the Weyr Pass Road out of the Central Range, the narrow, cliff-flanked path of the Hunter’s Pass wends its way steadily upward for a time before dipping down into a green, forested valley. Used by those wishing to chase mountain game, especially in the colder months, this weaving passage of rough, ruddy rock is sometimes used by travelers heading away from the Weyr in the midst of Igen’s summer sandstorms, since the dirt-laden winds are unable to reach very far past the turnoff leading into it.
Rockslide Gap (#5229)
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Signs of seismic activity are writ large in the harshly defined cracks that craze wildly along the walls of the Pass and the piles of rubble that abruptly cut off at the bend leading into the valley. Here, a gigantic rockslide tumbles across the thoroughfare, more inconvenient than permanent. There is a boon, though: the chaos has uncovered a curiosity - in the eastern wall, comprised of the stone of the mountains themselves, a dark mouth has opened beyond the jumbled stones. The lip of the cavern is a sturdy shelf of rock, and the entrance is large enough to accommodate even the bulkiest of adventurers enticed by its yawning depths.
Antechamber (#18048)
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Beyond the rough, serpentine passage that leads steeply downward into the blackness past the dark opening in the stone face above, a single shaft of light breaks through a slim portal to the surface and illuminates a small, dim cave with a flat, gravelly floor and rough walls of grey and brown stone. By night, darkness settles in, heavy and impenetrable. Light, however, reveals yet another opening on the far side, still large enough for a man to pass through unhindered to explore the mysteries beyond.
Grand Cavern (#24197)
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The immensity of this beautifully alien cavern is difficult to put into words. Easily the size of Igen’s Hatching Cavern and then some, the gigantic cave could easily fit the full complement of the Weyr’s wings. It’s clear from the shape of the elegant rock forms and undulating wear of the pit-pocked ceiling that water once flowed here, though there is now no trace of it save for the constant, faint drip of moisture from a source yet unseen.
Ruddy, rounded columns seemingly formed of stacked mounds of melting rock mount upward toward the cavern roof, the otherwise flat floor winding to and fro between them and the cones of still-growing stalagmites. From the roof hang their stalactite counterparts, along with a few odd straw-like formations tipped in water falling at a near glacial pace. Flowing down the far walls like frozen waterfalls are yet more formations, and four more dark portals opening in the walls at nearly even spacing hint at even more wonders to be found. Allowing all this to be seen vaguely during the day are several more narrow portholes to the surface, visible only as bright points of white light far above when Rukbat is high overhead.
Crystal Cave (#24531)
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Caution is key when venturing into this fragile chamber. Each and every small flicker of light reflects dimly off of the myriad of long crystals that reach their faceted fingers out from the rounded cavern walls. Ranging in hue from deep purple to pearly rose, these millions of glinting stems spring from every inch of the walls of this medium-sized cave, lining them like one giant geode. The only plain stretch of stone to be found is the floor, coated in a fine layer of sparkling dust. While the crystals are firmly set, one good bump could send a spar or two of the precious growths tinkling to the floor.
Geode Lode (#19073)
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Crystals line the start of the short passage to this strangely ordinary chamber, diminishing in size and luster until only plain stone remains to precede what lies within. The cavern walls are unremarkable, save for the fact that they appear oddly… bubbly, as though the stone had boiled and been frozen solid in an instant. Yet…here a glint, there a glint; a closer look reveals a few of those ovoid formations to be broken open and lined with crystal. In fact, if the pattern holds true…the very walls of this cave are embedded with gem-filled rocks - geodes everywhere!
Emerald Chamber (#21712)
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Venturing along the smooth, narrow corridor leading north from the Crystal Cave, the stone turns dark and the air grows close. Then, with almost breath-robbing abruptness, a new chamber sprawls out in a clover-like shape, wider than it is long. Here, dark stone walls are striated with pale veins that glint at the edges with tantalizing blazes of gold. Between those gleaming boundaries, hues of green ranging from seafoam to deep forest sparkle with uncut glory, ranging in size from a grain of sand to that of a full mark. Another opening yawns to the north, the near blackness of the stone gradually giving way to something more pale and whorled, a past incursion of water readily evident as the passage continues.
Water-worn Cave (#3713)
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Water pervades the floor of this absolutely otherworldly cave, shallow enough to wet only one’s boot soles in some places and deep enough to rise to the ankles in others. With the aid of a little glowlight or a torch, the hues of blue, white, pale green and teal that ripple and swirl across every undulating formation become evident, the appearance nearly reminiscent of a water-carved glacier - without the frigidity, of course. An ancient flow of water once carved through to leave beautifully serpentine tubes and tunnels through the marbled stone here, most large enough to allow a person to pass, but several too small for anything more than a firelizard to fit through. One wide portal at the eastern cusp of the cavern roughens to a plainer sort of stone, opening out onto the swirling waters of the underground river passing into shadow beneath its lip.
Waterfall Chamber (#2405)
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The endless fall of bright, mineralized water fills this cavern with eternal song. The smallest of cracks in the ceiling allows daylight to filter through and be captured by the tumbling falls, causing the mist to, at times, cloak this wondrous rush of water in subtle rainbows. Though magnificent to behold, the way through is made treacherous by slick limestone ground to smoothness by the constant exposure to moisture.
Aquifer Cavern (#25638)
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Wide and and squat is the corridor leading gradually downward from the northeastern quarter of the Grand Cavern, the unmistakable murmuration of swirling water uttering tempting whispers from an invisible quarter somewhere ahead. The passage comes to an abrupt end, however - thoroughly interrupted by the vast, shadowy jade expanse of an immense underground lake. Cold and quiet and deep it sits in the darkness, lances of sunlight striking the glassy surface with sharp brilliance during the day to reveal the furthest, barely visible edges of the low-ceilinged cavern. Fortunately, it is shallow at the edges, a few limestone shelves aiding a bit of deeper exploration without the necessity of swimming or boat. Still other cave mouths beckon for exploration further out, the rushing of water becoming more prominent as the aquifer stretches back.
Upstream (#15881)
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A careful bit of wading along the eastern wall of the aquifer cavern and a quick scramble up to a rough limestone shelf yields the narrow, low-slung path carved out by the swiftly moving underground river that feeds the great subterranean lake. Inexorable, powerful, the current emerges from well out of reach or sight beyond impenetrable walls, roiling and eddying around and over battered, eroded stone that shows pale in any light brought near. The water is not safe here; wise is the explorer who remains on the stony path that bears him - or her - in.
Downstream (#20486)
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Deceptive is the path that leads through the shallows along the western rim of the aquifer, the rainbow striations that peer out from the river-carved rock beckoning temptingly above the knee-depth of the tranquil roll of the underground river around the bend. Here, however, the current suddenly becomes far less friendly, funneled tightly through the small maze of rough stone tunnels. No deeper than waist-high on an average man does it ever become throughout this span, nor impossible to navigate if the current is anticipated - but precautions might be wise, all the same. Eventually, the river splits into two broad forks; one veers left to vanish beneath the lip of the pale mouth of the Water-worn Cave, while the other bends north toward a broad, dark portal that seems to lead to another cavern. Though clearly formed by a great amount of rushing water, the current leading this way seems…oddly sluggish, as though something further downstream stands in its way to slow it.
Rockfall Cave (#26746)
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The right branch of the subterranean river wheels languidly into this rugged room…and comes to a jarring halt. What is clear upon entering this ruined cave is that not all is as it should be; tremors have loosed a great tumble of sandy-hued stone from the roof high above, the boulders bringing the flow of water to a near-standstill. Small eddies rolling along the northern edge of the cave reveal that it isn’t completely stagnant; there is a path to be unblocked, should the stones be moved. Given the way this water flows in relation to the Weyr…the solution to a much larger problem might just be found in that very task.
Stepped Pools (#11208)
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A short, bitterly black passage, nearly hidden by the folds of rock that gnarl the southwestern wall of the aquifer cavern, leads to one of the sweetest surprises for the intrepid explorer yet revealed by this incredible underground world. Here, wide shafts in the stone ceiling admit daylight and moonlight more freely, falling upon the ethereally placid tabletop surface of a series of tiered pools. Broad and shallow, yet deep and smooth enough for sitting in, they reflect the overhanging stalactites and flowing formations of dripping stone along the walls with perfect, crystalline clarity. Fed by an adventurous thread of the river running parallel to the room, the pools are not still, merely calm. Sound echoes starkly here, even the barest whisper amplified by the hard, variegated surfaces within - yet there isn’t anywhere for it to go. Save for through what appears to be the mouth of a tiny passage the opens above a small, wide shelf of rock up near the ceiling, but who knows if that’s of any consequence.
Glow Cavern (#9316)
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The ceiling bows low over those who venture down the easternmost passage from the Grand Cavern, low enough to warrant crouching from time to time. The deeper it wends, the darker the stone becomes, the rough edges of the passage smoothed and softened by the velvet crawl of moss nourished by the steadily broadening trickle of stream that hugs the left wall of the corridor. A pale, eerie illumination seems to emanate from the destination ahead…and suddenly, the cavern sprawls away from from the portal that meets it. Thick moss and moist stone stand spangled with the subterranean starscape of glows, shallow water and the sweet flow of fresh air from a source unseen lending life to constellations of ghostly green and blue light across every surface. Far across this wondrous cavern, another dark mouth yawns tall and narrow - the source of the breath of life that keeps the glows sustained.
Hidden Forest Cave (#24610)
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The strange light of myriad glows reaches only so far along the sharp bends and twists of the rocky passage ascending from the pale-lit cavern…but is quickly replaced by luminance far more familiar - and the source is a rather surreal revelation. Beyond the man-wide exit, another cavern opens - literally - to the wide sky above, forest breezes whistling across the tree-lined rim of the bowl that looms with craggy, curved sides around the sanctuary below. The misty trickle of a waterfall loosed by newborn cracks in the stone whispers down to the ruddy-earthed floor, tentatively carving a path for itself to join the shallow pond that stands at the foot of a cluster of tall, thin trees. Stretching pale, verdant arms to the heavens, these lonely sentinels stand in solitude at the edge of a world not their own - a sliver of the bright woods brought low to sate the curiosity of a darkly beautiful underworld.
Western Territory
Western Road (#1960)
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Dry, drier, driest - the road to the west of Igen Weyr becomes steadily more arid and rocky as it wends its way out of the Great Central Range and marches onward to the steppe-lands and desert. Treacherously winding and narrow in spots until it escapes the labyrinth of the mountains, this well-trod stretch of sandy earth is not for the faint of heart to traverse in any season.
Southern Telgar Steppe (#25457)
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The savannah home of desert runners and hardy herder-folk, Telgar’s steppe-lands along the northern bend of the Western Road are dry and wind-swept. No trees grow here, save around the scant rivers and lakes that dot and thread the terrain. Summers here are quite hot, and the winters are deep, with many a morning finding the low shrubs and grasses gilded in thick, silvery frost. The flatness here might drive a mountain-dweller insane, were it not for the rolling hills that break the monotony of the view every now and again. Navigation must be done relying on sun, stars, sense, and scant landmark alone, for there are no mountains or valleys to take a bearing by for leagues.
Deadman's Trench (#12875)
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Often a stopping point for more adventurous trader caravans - and sometimes a hideout for renegades and criminals along the road - Deadman’s Trench is a narrow canyon oasis on the cusp of the savannah and desert. Erosion and time have driven a deep scar into the sandstone bluffs here. Thin, gravelly trails and roads just wide enough for wagons are the only points of entry or exit, switching back and forth along the rusty walls before finally giving way to the flat, sandy floor of the canyon. Small trees and bushes flourish along a trickling creek, and many a creature that refuses to face the scorching desert just beyond calls this stony hideaway home. A worthwhile retreat to be sought…should a soul be daring enough to brave the potential dangers of this easily missed locale.
Great Central Desert (#4801)
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A sea of golden sand stretches as far as the eye can gaze in all directions, marred here and there by the rough scars of granite and sandstone outcroppings of various lengths and widths. Scorching by day and bitingly cold by night in most months, the Great Central Desert is not a place one ventures without a firm plan or a quick exit (such as a dragon). The winds that whip mercilessly across this sandy expanse on some occasions can create colossal samiels and dust storms that block the sun for candlemarks at a time. Other days find the desert sitting amidst an immense calm, the sunlight painting dunes and bluffs in ever-shifting colors and the moonlight turning gold to pale silver beneath nearly unblinking stars. It is a place of great danger and beauty all at once, to be sure.
Lost Oasis (#15655)
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Blocked from view in the south by one of the largest sandstone formations jutting from the desert, this lovely oasis is truly a hidden jewel in the sand. Leagues away from any trace of civilization, it boasts a tranquil blue pool of fresh water and shallow stream fed by an unseen spring beyond a dark crevice in the bluff. Trees spring up against the rock, providing merciful shade and filling in the narrow recesses surrounding the water. The height of the outcropping funnels a near-constant light breeze through the place, cooling the air considerably in comparison to the desert beyond.
However, for all its beauty, there is an unaccountable air of fear and uncertainty about this oasis. At night, the otherwise friendly wind can cross the space with a low, unnerving howl, and creatures passing in the shadows do so in nervous, unseen movements. This has, unfortunately, been a place of grisly discoveries for Igen Weyr - most likely due to its out-of-the-way nature. Sweep riders have observed no renegades, bandits, or criminals of any other stripe in the area thus far, adding to the mystery here.
Eastern Territory
Eastern Road (#1446)
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Beyond a steep traverse down the eastern slopes of the Central Range, the road leading out toward Keroon becomes level and wide, a landscape of grit and sandstone giving way to flatlands and swamps near the Igen River. The air becomes thicker, the aridness of the desert succumbing to the atmosphere of the river and, further on, the sea. Eventually, this melds into the plains and foothills that define Keroon’s plateau.
Igen River Hold (#14875)
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Sitting on the cusp of a striking juxtaposition of sand and greenery, Igen River Hold hugs both rugged cliff and gentle slope of riverbank. Small fishing craft with brightly-hued hulls and sails can be seen to coast easily along the currents here, as well as larger boats built for transport and the occasional journey downriver to the ocean. Crafthalls for both boat-builders and fisher folk make up most of what can be seen from Igen River itself, the ramps and piers extending past the thin strip of tidal swamp to be found at this point along the water’s edge. A smallish sprawl of industry, this hold - but a bustling one, with a colorful and thriving community of river-bound Seacrafters and holders who find such a lifestyle to their liking.
Igen River Bank (#19710)
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The riverbank just beyond Igen River Hold is largely free of the tidal swamp that encroaches on the muddier, more southerly edges of the wide river. Sandy soil begins to mingle with the rich loam of denser earth here, giving a more solid footing to any piers that find anchor near to the water and beyond. Desert trees and grasses take root all the way to the river’s edge in some spots, mingling with the greener vegetation of looming swampland further downstream.
Red Butte (#14732)
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Far removed from Hold and Hall, out in the utter midst of the plains of Keroon, sits the unique, solitary dome that every weyrling most likely knows better than any other landmark on the face of Pern - the Red Butte. Rings of eroded bedrock and sandstone ring this small mountain like long-frozen ripples, worn by weather, upheaval, and time. Valleys and scarps surround and fade into the varied strata of the plateau itself. From both the ground and the air, the strikingly-hued Red Butte remains one of the most impressive and recognizable features of the entire Northern Continent.
Vtol Swamp Hold (#6726)
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This small hold is a solid bastion of stone in the midst of the murky wetlands of the Igen River. However, the constant moisture and verdant crawl of insidious mosses, vines, and clinging plants gives the place a distinctly decrepit and even creepy feel. Stone and dirt paths wind between trees and buildings with a seemingly permanent seep of water emerging between rocks and gravel, pooling stagnantly in any low spots along the way. Living fully up to it’s name, the population of vtols in this swamp settlement is annoyingly high in the warmer months, and the hold Healers have made something of a specialty out of repellant salves, soothing lotions, and bite and sting treatments made from local flora. This is not a locale anyone voluntarily lingers at on a regular basis - unless one was born here. Or nearby.
Tidal Swamp (#9170)
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Mud, muck, creatures and insects lurking unseen on, in, and above the water in twisted, moss-draped trees - the quintessential swamp exists in all its dark, damp glory all around the hold in its midst. Even so, the water is not entirely stagnant here; the ebb and flow of the river keeps things moving, and no growth (except for the ancient, gnarled trees) is ever permanent. For all it is a swamp, there is a subtle beauty to this verdant, humid area. Once you get past the vtols.
Keroon Sea Hold (#7650)
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Gone are the sands and swamps following the Igen River down to the sea, once that expanse of water is crossed and left behind. Eastward and southward winds the road to the sapphire sea and pale bluffs of Keroon Sea Hold. Though by no means the largest of Pern’s sea holds, Keroon is quite old, and it shows in the stately, worn walls and caves of the Hold proper. A wide, sand-scoured courtyard surrounded by palms and arched ramparts opens up behind the columned and domed lighthouse tower on the southernmost palisade. The remainder of the Hold unfolds downward, into and behind the bluffs, and the dock cavern for the a portion of Keroon’s fishing fleet yawns darkly below, no matter the height of the tide.
Kurkar Hold (The Underground)
Tomb Reliquary (#25175)
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What is death but a beginning? Intermittently for centuries, this cave system was a final resting location for nomads and Lords alike. Thick brown rock, rough to the touch, and sometimes capped with the light of glows, expands in narrow corridors. The dirt underfoot is coarse and actions tend to echo. Dry here, the dead desiccate and have layered over the Turns, though they’re not in any real abundance. Creative in their macabre entertainment, youths will sometimes manipulate skeletons in various positions, “Karl” being a titular favorite.
Subterranean Gardens (#19344)
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Pillars of desert light entering through small gaps in the spanse above encourage the growth of quick-growing algaes and freshwater plants within the shallow lake. Fish descended from a population stocked here a century ago, are kept in place with a series of stone terraces and weirs so that they might be easily moved or caught. Waterfowl also float and bob, safe against predation. Vegetation above the water’s turquoise surface feeds off the by-products of the fish and fowl, providing the populace a much needed diet of greens and small vegetables. There are several of these setups engineered wherever light from the surface leaks underground.
The Plaza (#5672)
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The small crevice to enter forthwith accedes to stone steps that descend for half a dragonlength, subterranean space broadening into the volume of five cathedrals, but a sanctuary of few saints. The heartbeat of the Underground is an open courtyard of native soil ringed by domiciles and living quarters gouged into the bedrock. Fowl, caprines, and long-tailed ovines occasionally wander and sleep freely, except when assemblies, dancing, or the rare wedding features. Music is kept to a minimum, as sound may wander to the surface, but daily life starts and ends here. The living quarters carved into the rocks may be as simple as crawl space or a large enough family unit to house several members. Often cloth is used to separate one's 'claim' and to provide a modicum of privacy. A towering ceiling is forever safe from light's reach, its vacant blackness like a night sky without stars.
The Maw (#25792)
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A circular chasm located half a mile from the plaza, yawns to accept stumbling livestock, discarded rubbish, and all forms of light. Some walk its rim for tests of bravery. Others find entertainment in yelling their names into the breach, or dropping glows and stones to detect some sort of a bottom. Results will vary on said experiments, as will the rumors that those who cross Baham have met their demise on this spot. The terrain is harsh here, but some like the abyss’s company and the echos it deforms before it swallows them whole.
Underground Lake (#25540)
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With no wind to rustle its surface, the lake under the earth is as glass and every bit as clear. Fed by aquifers, its level remains consistently predictable. Far from existing in only a solid body of water, the lake invades several chambers, vanishes even further underground, only to reappear in a different zone. Depth varies to a few inches to a hundred feet or more as it follows even more ancient courses into the multi-colored bedrock. Sound readily carries over the slate-smooth water, internally enhanced by the confine of rock all around.
Glowlight Grotto (#27917)
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The immense glowlight cavern gleams with a constellation of little lights, all the walls and ceilings shining in tones of nebula blue. Water drips from the luminescent ceilings, gathering down below in a great cool calm inner lake. A series of walkways wind across the water, where they meet at last in a landing toward the back. There a latticed pergola shelters low tables of lacquered wood. Just outside the pergola, and before the back wall, a space has been cleared and tiled in dark and light squares, as if they formed a life-size chessboard. The banded stone of the back wall has been chiseled into a damaged bas-relief of people and animals at play. A draconic sculpture rises out of the relief into full-fledged statuary, its taloned hands cupped to hold glows.
Outdoor TP Room (#21531)
Secluded Cove
The room description for cheery sunlight peeks down upon a secluded cove. Trees ring around dark tan sand casting welcome shade upon tufts of green grass. Off to the left a perfect circle of black-marked rocks sits, a pile of wood beside. Water laps up onto the sand, and off in the distance playful dolphins flip out of the water, their quiet squeels of play just barely reaching the ear.
Southern Boll Hold
A bustling coastal hold in the southern end of Fort.
Igen Hold Gather Square
A bright and warm day without the punishing heat accompanied by a kind breeze to stir the Igen Hold flags, topped by the glorious Gather Flag. The inner square of the Hold is festooned almost desperately in bright red and yellow ribboning that traces between, over, and around each stall that rings the outside. Cobblestones underfoot are worn smooth to balance rectangular dining tables in one half of the square and the second half is ringed with more ribbons and bows in Hold colours to outline the dance floor.
Firestone Shed
Sacks abound under the covering that keeps them from the infrequent Igen rains. The air reeks with the acrid taste of firestone as it sits. One side of the shed has loose stone, just waiting for weyrlings to bag it.
Keroon Plain (West)
West, over the high-peaked mountains of Igen's range; west, over the tidal swamps of Igen's river; west over hills and plains. Far, far out into Keroonian territory the grasslands spread endless in every direction. In the late summer they are a dustry drab which opens almost entirely golden beneath the aching blue of the sky. From high up on dragonback ranch holds are visible, each remote from the other; the only signs of life are the movements of the herds and the men and runners which tend them.
Keroon Plain (East)
East, over the high-peaked mountains of Igen's range; east, over the tidal swamps of Igen's river; east over hills and plains. Far, far out into Keroonian territory the grasslands spread endless in every direction. In the late summer they are a dustry drab which opens almost entirely golden beneath the aching blue of the sky. From high up on dragonback ranch holds are visible, each remote from the other; the only signs of life are the movements of the herds and the men and runners which tend them.
Empty Weyr
This weyr is completely uninhabited, and clearly has been for some time. Though a cleaning crew has clearly recently been through here to make it useable, there is a decidedly 'off' vibe to this weyr. Surely it's just your imagination.
Working Supply Caverns
A series of bowl-adjacent caverns, these ground level spaces are the interface of stores and the Weyr's daily work. Dust from the firestone bunkers hangs pungently in the air. Stacks of large leather sacks are often arrayed just outside the rocky opening where they're stored and assessed. Dirty leather piles up in the lee of the cliff-face when sacks are dropped off to be washed and evaluated for tearing seams. Before Threadfall and live-fire drills, clean stacks can be found laid out in Igen's sunlight smelling fresh of leathersoap.
Gather Cattle Awards
Lanterns lay strung about a large area. Tables made just for standing around dot the area, and a wide platform (big enough for large cattle to stand upon) stretches along one side. There is no lack of booze being passed around. Just beyond the rope of lanterns cattle makes all the cattle noises.
Katz Field
A broad expanse of rolling grass at the edge of rougher terrain. Weather patterns here dump a lot of precipitation on sweeping hills that all eventually flow into the wide valley basin.
Eastern Igen Desert, The Imani Canyon
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Nestled against the eastern mountains and hidden by the shifting dunes of the Igen Desert lies a small canyon carved from the desert itself by the mountain meltwater. Difficult to see from the air, and only reachable from the ground by those who know the roads a stream has slowly carved a path through the rust-hued desert stones over the ages. Reds, oranges, and yellows band the walls of the canyon while grey-green shrubs and vegetation cling to the walls in defiance of the wind and sand.
Caverns wind through the lower portions, perfect refuges against thread and dust storms which ravage Igen. Here there are rare plants and minerals used to make various dyes, inks and pigments. For this reason, the canyon is home to the Imani traders for part of each turn, and during the last week in summer for a single night the entire area is filed with the scent of night-blooming flowers, marking the time when the Imani take to the roads again.
Racetrack
The Racetrack has been a fixture of Igen Weyr for several centuries, though it's situated a little walk from the Weyr proper towards the steppe. The great sweep of the oval course is overseen at one end by a wooden structure of tiered seating. Races take place on a regular basis and the annual championship draws crowds from as far away as Keroon Sea Hold. The desert track is famous for providing a demanding and treacherous race, and seeing runners and riders risk their necks is all part of the appeal. This doesn't stop people bringing their children along, and race days are a curious split between a family day out for some and a chance for others to seriously misbehave. Gambling, drinking and whoring are all encouraged in the few adobe buildings that cluster at one end of the track — and the guards are far enough away that it's usually privately hired Akzhan muscle that keeps the peace.
Behind the Racetrack are the training grounds, used to prepare both jockeys and the runners bred by the family. Akzhan stock is famous across the northern continent for its speed and stamina.
Guards Weightroom
The smells that permeate through this room almost defies description. It's a mixture of sweat, blood and unwashed socks. There is an assortment of weights stacked to one side, and a variety of bences to work from as well. One corner has been sectioned of, and judging from the various splashes of blood stains on the stone, it's a sparring ring. There are a couple spots for pull ups and even a large bladder bag that's been hung for working on fist work.
Djazik Caravan: Performing
The Great Tent claims center stage, well-lit by torches and glows; within, all sorts of performances can be seen: aerialists and their silks and rings and trapezes, feline tamers with their talented beasts, and clowns with their hilarious antics are all just a small part of the shows that the Djazik have to offer. There are acrobats and strong men; firelizard trainers and marksmen.
Outside the Great Tent, wagons are set up in various arrangements: food stalls and carts claim one section, while crafters sell their wares in another. Yet another area is wholly devoted to games of chance and skill, with prizes for those who are particularly talented. There are artists of all sorts and further performances that aren't suited for the Great Tent, but which are plenty entertaining in their own right. There's even a petting zoo and ponies for those who enjoy the novelty. Off to one side is the memorial wagon, a place for the Djazik to both mourn and remember - a gallery full of art and gilded animal skulls where the past is to be displayed and shared.
Anywhere one goes, there will be something interesting to see or eat or do.
The living wagons of the Djazik are arranged far beyond the scope of the performances and purveyors of fine goods and food; there is a distinct separation between art and life and visitors would be well-advised to heed it.
Djazik Caravan: Travel
The Djazik caravan runs strong, anywhere from twenty to thirty wagons during a good season; although the ten most prominent always head the caravan chain, the ones that follow tell the tales of those who have chosen to hitch their wagons to the Djazik star.
The ten primary wagons are vividly painted and decorated with a myriad of murals to depict not only the purpose of the wagon as well as a sampling of the shows available. Living and storage and feline and show wagons might be the most critical, but the memorial wagon is one of particular esteem and leads the way.
Draybeasts and runners may haul the wagons, but there is a veritable menagerie that travels with them; from strange caprines to canines to all manner of other animals, the caravan is as much zoo as entertainment in some respects. @@
Night finds the collection of wagons circled around a central bonfire, the smaller family and crafter wagons radiating out from the core ten. Nights are filled with song and merry-making; days are filled with travel and practice. Inclement weather finds canvas tents quickly deployed to protect from the dire threat of rain and whipping sand alike.
Igen River Hold: Gather
Igen River Hold has been thoroughly decked out for a proper Gather, with a considerable space set aside purely for a visiting entertainer's caravan. The air is one of anticipation, filled with the scents of food, the sounds of music, and the excited buzz of conversation.
There are the expected crafting booths and merchants of all sorts, with vendors from all over coming together to sell their wares. Food can be found nearly anywhere, along with plenty of wine and beer, as well as non-alcoholic offerings. There is plenty of seating for those that need it and a handful of spaces set aside for dancing. Everything is bright and colorful, with paper lanterns in a rainbow of hues to evoke the vibrance and life that spring carries with it.
It is truly a time of celebration - to eat, drink, and be merry!
Plains Hold
Located southeast of Lemos Hold, Plains Hold is a primarily farm-based minor holding; they do keep dairy animals and an assortment of other herdbeasts and have a small mining operation, but their main export consists of anything that will grow in the soil. With a river to the north and mountains to the south - and the Keroon river due west - it's in a prime location for rich soil and abundant harvests.
High Ground Hold
Located in the Keroon Heights region northeast of Red Butte and southwest of Fork Hold, High Ground Hold is right at the juncture of where Benden's coverage ends and Igen's begins. The Hold itself is a minor holding, one that specializes in beasts and animal husbandry in general, with a subspecialty in all sorts of food-producing fowl. A river to the south - running roughly southeast to northwest with its eastern end in Nerat Bay - provides plenty of fresh water for the Hold and also a fine fishing spot for the casual angler.
Southern Telgar Hold
Southern Telgar Hold is viewed by some as a folly of construction, though time seems to hold that it was a wiser decision than it might have seemed. A stone complex sprawls in the shelter of the cliffs, rather than being hewn in the rock directly; the main Hold faces east, where the cliff faces west. North lies the river that flows west across the Telgar plain, while Igen Weyr is due east, past the mountains.
It is a place of recovery and health, boasting a Healer Hall nearly as large as the main Hall in Fort Hold and with the benefit of mineral springs. Retirees from Telgar Hold migrate here for the milder weather, while Healers come here to benefit from the broad training program provided.
Firestone Gorge
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Swirling patterns of red worn into layers of craggy stone are what give this place its name — resembling something scorched — as well as its danger. In the twisted in and outs, it's easy to get turned around, finding yourself leagues from where you meant to be with no landmarks but endless, dizzying red dust and rare sprigs of green fighting to survive. A challenge for any climber, it proves a common place to fulfill dares or feats of prowess. High above, a reward for shrewd scaling, a single crag protrudes as a mighty ramp pointing towards the sky as if made to be launched from. For those seeking a different kind of view, a narrow, hidden path leads into a particularly claustrophobic corridor with some of the most spectacular colorings. Waiting until sunset will provide an experience like no other, as the entire corridor seems to be set ablaze, but it's not recommended to be caught there when everything goes dark.
Between Two Holds
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South of Igen River Hold and north of Igen Hold is a goodly stretch of territory - farmland cleaves close to the northern end of Keroon Bay, only for hills and mountains to mark the divide between fertile delta and damning desert. Life yet thrives in that difficult terrain, with traders and smaller cotholds carving out a spare existance where they can. Here and there, the odd oasis might be found, while greenery peeks out in unexpected places.
Southern Telgar Steppe: Firelizard Weyrs
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Natural cave systems have aligned so precisely along this particular cliff-face that they look purposeful and man-made. Their miniature resemblance to parts of the Bowl have dubbed them their nickname more than any abundance of the tiny winged cousins found in the area. Not that this means that many aren't tricked into the long, windy hike to the landmark to go searching. Thus far, no one's been able to climb high enough or be small enough to fit into the little square entrances, leaving them their air of mystery. Alongside the cliff runs a simple, shallow river. A dip of feet in its cool banks is often more rewarding than anything the cliff actually offers.
Skybroom Valley
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Supported by massive root systems often entwined with one another, the trees unique to this valley flourish in radiating circles towards the sky. Each thick branch continuously divides into two going out, creating the strange upside-down look. The tufts of leaves are convenient hiding places for nests. Small fleshy berries amongst the coarse brooms start green, turning to black and then orange when ripe. While the wood is treasured, and invaluable as far as durability, it tends to be very difficult to work with. Here and there, where gigantic trees have fallen, homeless branches claw at the and disconnected roots seem to rise from nowhere. Though there's room enough in the valley for a good-sized wagon, the going can be treacherous due to the those jagged growths and the far-reaching systems.
Desert Mountain Marsh
Not quite the mountain ranges that will dominate the coast going south, the rolling dunes here are yet primarily sand - a few rocks beginning to show that harden the foundation. On their coastal side, the dunes host a mini-oasis part of the year. After the flooding, the low lands here become a marshland of reeds and bushes. It is a dramatic shock of absolute greenery all around - ferns in droves lining the water's edge, nearly piled directly atop each other, and palms circling them further out, occasionally offering an array of refreshing edibles. Scragglier looking trees grow long-term, closest to the dunes' rocky bases and shadowy curves, offering a rare reprieve after the long travel of pure desert to arrive here from the north. Further down are some areas of higher, drier, plateaus, and then smaller marshes smattered for a few yards. At the horizon, the mountains truly begin, and their distant peaks are jagged signals of what's to come ahead.
Indoor TP Room (##16550)
Laundry Rooms
The laundry rooms at Igen are vast, lined with barrels of varying soap concentrations and shades: darks, lights, and colors. However, it seems that some laundresses are less finicky with this rule as a peek into any of them reveals clothes in various states of cleaning are from all shades of life. The room does smell mostly pleasant with the soap, but the laundry sticks are old, worn, and smell rather of mildew. High ceilings echo the gossips of the workers here, and lines of drying laundry criss-cross overhead for when it's too wet or sandy to line-dry outside.
Empty, High Up Weyr
Abandoned and lonely, there's a sense of wistfulness lingering among the small piles of sand that have gathered in the recesses. Spinner webs stretch forlorn along the walls. Something mysterious lingers in this room as if it bears the weight of ages.
Study
The small room is a study in homely decoration, with its odd shape indicating that it's tucked between other rooms and got shorted on shapely space. The half-circular, half-triangular wall is encircled with a curvy bench stuffed high with pillows, and a tiny table allows drinks and books to rest comfortably. Off on a corner table a small plant rests, with a glow-basket and a folded blanket on the shelf above.
Alcove
It's what the name would suggest, a recess in one of the hallway just outside of the candidate barracks. A bench has been fitted snuggly into the space, with a thin, worn cushion covering the wood. It's a cozy and a nice place to stop and watch foot traffic during the busy times of the day. It has a glow basket on either side, providing sufficient light.
Twisty hallway
It leads somewhere, it just doesn't do it in a hurry. It's natural cave here, smoothed down by age and tools, and follows those original lines. A slight chill lingers no matter how warm it gets outside. Glows are placed far away from one another, and it's easy to get lost here.
Map Room
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The Starcrafters' den is conveniently close to the Archives; it's bright with glows and fragrant with old hide. Here can be found the records that don't get into the Records: detailed observations of day and night sky, weather and Threadfall going back more than a century. Shelves line most of the walls, laden with books and files, map trays and document tubes, though gaps up to head height leave room for three evenly-spaced desks, each facing a spongewood pinboard that's just right for fixing odd notes and diagrams. A huge slate chalkboard is invariably covered with calculations. There are two large freestanding globes, one of the planet and one showing orbits and constellations, and a delicate orrery sits on a low shelf along with various pieces of equipment. In the centre of the room is a huge table, almost as broad as long, and usually covered with the maps and charts of land and sky that give this room its name.
Weyrleader's Office
It is a small space — smaller than perhaps the one a weyrleader would naturally be allowed. Off the council room, it has been designed with thin veneers of slate on the wall, enabling a man of a lifetime of paperwork to have neat notes all around him at any given time. Currently, the wings of Igen are listed in a virtual flight, each wing broken down into wingrider and dragon, with mysterious symbols underneath each: no doubt some kind of shorthand, but good luck breaking the code. In the middle of the room is a desk — it appears to have been liberated from the guards' headquarters — and a battered chair with two un-matching citizens of the same class in front of said desk. It is a cozy place for a man to do his thinking; it does not appear to be place where a weyrleader would entertain.
Katz Field, Outdoors
Flat plains and tender grasses are a convenient base for a pop-up city of fringe-edged pavilions printed with Katz Field emblems. Empty space between these spacious tents serve as dance locations or where a multitude of runnerbeasts of every pattern and pigment are hobbled. The central tent houses two long tables thriving with several courses of food, drink, and everything between. No guests will leave wanting and cups have been known to overflow from weak wrists.
Headman's Office
This is a neatly contained space, with a place for everything and everything in its place. Shelves are packed with records of all sorts, though everything appears to have an arcane species of organization that's not immediately apparent to the untrained eye. There is a brazier for warmth should there ever be a need, but the space is compact enough that there rarely is. While a sideboard exists to serve snacks and tea and klah, there is no sense that visitors are truly welcome to linger here. There is a large desk with locking drawers and a comfortable chair on the business side of that affair, but those coming with an issue will find their chair is just comfortable enough to get their concerns out, without leaving much room for small talk. This is, after all, an office - not a lounge.
Mindhealer's Office
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Where there are Mindhealers, there's a need for private office spaces mixed in with the rest of the Healer-oriented rooms. This one isn't especially spacious, but the decor leaves it feeling cozy and comfortable in soothing, cool hues. Things are periodically changed out as necessary - largely to keep the chairs comfortable and to ensure the decorations match the overall season - but it's otherwise grounded in its pragmatic design. A writing desk is tucked against a wall, while the room is dominated by a small couch, a pair of armchairs, and a low table. Records aren't kept here, but there is a small collection of scrolls and books in the wall-built shelving, while other necessary items are stored in beautiful baskets.
Floral arrangements are kept in tasteful vases, alongside a collection of succulents, and a candle or some other form of aromatherapy is put to work to keep the space smelling pleasant. A sideboard with snacks and a small assortment of drinks - klah, tea, and water - is readily available, as are kerchiefs for those who have a need. Lighting is muted, but easily adjusted via glow lamps or colored lanterns. Pillows and blankets are also readily on-hand, ensuring that those within are very comfortable indeed.
Bazaar TP Room (#12134)
Butcher's Alcove
Here the redolent scents of baking mix with the alluring spice of grilled meat: tucked away down a street, around a corner, past the illicit stall of black-market perfume, here lies this.. restaraunt? cafe? deli? Raw cuts of meat are there for the wanting as well as prepared food, but the proprieter of the place is a strange one — for those who step in hungry will eat whatever the shopkeeper deigns to feed them.
Cloth Corridor
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Countless cloths of every cut, color, and size obscure the open air of this bountiful booth. Extravagant silks embroidered in so fine a metallic thread drape in diaphanous folds, billowing in the wind as one parts through veil upon veil of hanging fabric on display. Beyond, yet more plain or patterned cloth tower in neat stacks, the likes of which are oft seen wrapped about many a stylish Igenite.
Out-Of-Business Business
Just a hole in the wall, the sort of place that hardly draws a glance by those passing by- and perhaps that's why this little shop went out of business. Two men standing with arms outstretched and fingers touching could span the width of the shop, from one side to the other. The feeling of space is provided by spotless whitewashed adobe walls, the open windows that hold no glass but do have shutters, and a door with only a heavy curtain to keep the public out. Another doorway at the back leads to a miniscule nook that's intended to be an office.
Painted Alleyway
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The Bazaar is a web of alleys and dead-ends; the unwary or unfamiliar could quickly become lost. This alleyway is a prime example- it can only be reached through a series of seemingly random left- and right-hand turns through increasingly narrow passageways, and ends abruptly with an adobe wall twice as tall as a man. The difference between this place and many of the others in the Bazaar is that some effort has been made by the local residents to spruce it up as a safe place for children to play. As a result, the walls are painted in bright primary colors and the children themselves encouraged to contribute, decorating the lower portions of the walls with painted handprints, stick figures and blobby dragons. White and yellow striped linen flaps overhead, awnings strung with wood and rope to create some protection from the sun. The atmosphere is bright, cheerful and extremely isolated, the din of the Bazaar a distant dream here.
Rooftops
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If you can find the handholds to haul your way up - and there are plenty, if you know where to look - then there is a hidden highway of tile and adobe that waits for knowing travellers to tread its path. A road best travelled by those sure of foot and able to stomach the occasional leap between buildings without falling victim to vertigo, the rooftops represent a quick and possibly convenient way of travelling about the bazaar; though don't be surprised if there's the odd shady opportunist willing to take a risk this high above what law lies below.
The view from up here is spectacular; rooftops, sun-bleached, weathered, beaten by time, spread like an uneven patchwork quilt from here to the very borders of the bazaar. Some flat, some tiled, some frequented and some abandoned - it's not unusual to find the odd potted garden, stored goods or even a precious chicken coop, locked down to protect the feathered denizens within its thread-protected casing.
The sounds of the bazaar are muffled, the scents blissfully so too, making it a potentially pleasant little getaway for those in need of a little peace and quiet to observe the skies, to travel the high walkways, or to simply soak in some of Rukbat's rays.
Around The Cistern
The cisterns are the beating heart of the Bazaar, where life-giving water is drawn but more importantly where residents may come together to gossip. There's often a line at each and that provides ample opportunity to chat with one's neighbors. Children dash about over the cobblestones surrounding each immense well, firelizards swoop by overhead and laundry is often hung on racks on the periphery- still more excuse to linger and catch up on what's happening in Igen today.
Ravene's Bakery And Sundry Garden
This small courtyard is entered into through one of two entrances. At one end of the walled yard is a door that stands open, and the sounds of a bustling kitchen drift out into the open air. Directly across from the open door, is a closed door that looks to be walled off from inside. If it could open, it would open on to what is now The Handsome Harper. Not very big, the space does provide enough room for a garden in which to grow a small amount of vegetables and grains with which Ravene makes all her wonderful foods. Over head is evidence of metal shutters that can be moved over the yard to protect the garden, or people from the dangers of Thread and sandstorms alike. Along with this garden are a pair of hens that roam freely through the yard, a hutch is set up for them to roost in at night as well as to deposit their eggs.
The Night Flight
FASHION BABY. This shop is the holy shrine to that which is most fashionable. Don't expect to walk away without spending a pretty penny on those layers of silk around the room. Warm and comfortable this is the PLACE to be if one likes clothing.
Dancing Corner
If it was not for the lack of shelter here this smooth corner of the bazaar would be ideal for some cart of shop. Without it though, another purpose overtakes it. A hollowed out corner of rock face makes a perfect seat for a single instrumentalist, and the smooth stones bring to mind just one thing when the notes flow through the night.
Bazaar Guards' Workout Room
The Igen Bazaar Guards' Workout room is much like the rest of the bazaar: functional and worn with time and use.
The room is large and mostly dark, signs admonishing those ruffians to 'Put Your Weights Away' so one doesn't trip over them between rough wooden benches and high-backed chairs. Along the walls, leather bags filled to tautness with sand either swing gently or hang in ominous silence, guardians of punching power.
In the back is a change room, hidden by a curtain with a huge 'M' emblazoned on it. Nearby is a smaller closet with the mark for 'Women', a hastily constructed change room for those women who are willing to compete for benches with the men.
Finally, the best and worst thing about this workout room is the smell: the odor of Man Sweat that is lodged so deeply into the stone and wood that it may never recover. It is a scent that cannot be ignored after fresh air, a piquancy of hard work and discipline that assaults the nose and then embraces, welcoming one to share their own unique smell into the pot.
Shadowed Alley
The moonlight casts fitful beams of light into the area, spreading hopeful fingers towards the alley's adobe walls, but fail to reach its depths. Instead soupy darkness coat the walls and uneven pavement of the fetid passageway, and the midden's usual stench is strong as it competes with the spices and musk from the animal enclosures. A fitful gleam from a nearby corner's torch lends a half-life to crude graffiti on the walls, an uneasy mishmosh of stick-people and malformed dragons. Further on, a maze of small walkways and tiny houses choke off any attempts at casual identification of location, and what scurries in the true darkness have even the tunnelsnakes fleeing.
Small Courtyard
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Secluded and quiet, this hidden spot of solitude is build at the juncture of three richer residential back doors. Short stairways to said residences are gated and bolted with thick locks that seldom see opening, and any who venture here never find themselves scolded for lingering. The health of the squat date palm surrounded by a sandstone planter in the center of the space attests to care coming from someone, however, as does the carefully swept state of the cream and blue tilework covering the ground. Stone benches alternate with small planters of desert succulents at the edges of the courtyard, interrupted only by a break in the stuccoed wall to mark the way out.
Gambling Den
Where outside darkness exists even in the light of day due to deep shadows, within this partially hidden door light shines brightly from glows strung liberally across the beams above. People gather around round tables with cards, dice, and every kind of game of chance spread before them. Not everyone at the table plays, but all are known. Strangers, while not unwelcome, are watched carefully.
Broker's Hall
In contrast to the flamboyance of the bazaar without, here in the cool confines of stone there is little to no decoration. Instead solid stone tables sit about, with heavy wooden chair settled about. There's nothing here that encourages people to stay beyond the length of their business. A tang in the air hints of cleaners, though dark spots that could be blood linger in corners.
Rosie's
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Not the largest building in the Bazaar, nor the finest, Rosie's still has that little something extra to pull in customers- namely, it has prostitutes. And for prostitutes, there must need be room to mingle, to catch the eye and to hook their clients. To this purpose, the main room of Rosie's has been furnished with multiple functions in mind. Much of the room is given over to a parlor setting where floors and walls are covered with intricately patterned rugs and chaise lounges provide comfortable seating for clients and hookers alike. To the right is an area where low to the floor tables have been placed, on which girls have been known to dance. To the left, beyond a slight outcropping wall to designate it as a separate room is the bar. A short counter, behind which a bartender does a brisk trade in spirits and water. Also to the left are a number of tables intended not for dancing, but for cards and dice, both of which draw as many regular customers as the girls themselves do. A doorway to the rear of the parlor leads to a hallway from which many rooms can be reached, but one may only pass through the arch in the company of one of Rosie's many daughters.
The Crescent
Designed to attract a higher spectrum of patrons, but accessible to a more modest crowd, the Crescent is a space to lounge, dine, or partake in an array of singers and performers. Retreat into a fluid space of curtains all of which are a deep navy blue, the color easy on the eyes after time out among the desert sun. Small hardwood tables stained deep red are circular and able to hold no more than four at once, though two larger settings are available upon the request and coin. Performers are screened in advance for their skill, a scant few will make it off the street and to the stage. Glowbaskets are regularly spaced, but few in overall number to keep the atmosphere perpetually dim, save for the main dais. The floor is native sandstone half-polished to provide both a little traction and luxury.
The Desert Fire
Along the outskirts of the bazaar stands a monolith to community, cherished as it is blackened. The Desert Fire's structure is free of walls, just four broad brick pillars supporting a slate roof, and the trick of it all being that the four pillars are all free-standing hearths. It's always sweltering here, for good purpose; upkept by the Rivern, it is a place where any are welcome to use, a kitchen for those without their own hearth. Two covered traditional hearths with hooks for cauldrons lie south and north, while low-ceiling ovens catty-corner to the east and west. Low tables are frequently brought to stand between the hearths and the firepit in the center, where one might turn a spit or grill over the open flame.
Steen's Spirits
First and foremost, while this building may be open to the public, the vast majority of the floor space has been dedicated to the actual production process. From the entrance, several stills and a few work tables are visible, along with shelf upon shelf of glass storage, but access to this area is blocked by a large skybroom counter. A small bell jingles as the door is opened to summon a worker for assistance. Orders can be placed immediately, or for those indecisive, a small sitting area with a few tables has been set up to the side. Not more than a dozen could probably sit in the tasting area, but the chairs are comfortable and the tables always as spotless as the rest of the building is.
Dabih Hold
Known for its proximity to Telgar enough to share in productive swaths of grasslands and softwood trees, Dabih is a small hold quickly outpacing its old boundary walls. Those are under renovation though the courtyard s already a vast field of flagstones shaped to hexagons. It's a charming place in the desert where the chief mason once loved Byzantine arches and canines: both architecturally displayed in reliefs and over door ways. The surrounding area is resistent to the desert, but it encroaches on its bluffs when the elements are just right. |
Isle No. 4
The second largest land body of the island chain is made up of lots of rocks, plants that once came from the wind, and exiled criminals. This island has the best source of freshwater. Shrubs are sparse, any large trees probably Thread-chewed and there are several other islands able to e visited via low tide or shallow water. An old lighthouse is now a primary domicile and look-out for the very young. Those old enough are soon sick of looking at endless water.
AU: Daytona Beach
It's Daytona Beach, Florida, which means it's sunshine and summer… unless it's raining, which it seems to do EVERY DAY during the summer. It's very pretty. Stages are set up, and music is loud, and water costs $5 a bottle. The levels of alcohol going around make it seem more like spring break than high summer, but… that's a different story.
Central Range Cave
Shelter in uncommon times for common people, this cave is plenty wide enough to comfortably house a small herd of stock animals. And, it sometimes has if desicated dung speaks any volumes. The back doesn't end but does narrow to a channel most people could not squeeze through. The overhang looks crumpled, definitely not one shaped by human hands or their subsequent equipment.
The Crescent (Party)
After sevens of meticulous work, the Crescent has been transformed for the night into something that elevates the already upscale establishment to new heights of elegance. The navy curtains that line the space have been artfully draped at regular intervals with sheer white fabric to soften the dark color and give the atmosphere an almost frosted element. This is continued upon the small round tables, which are now arranged in a ring around what looks to be a dancefloor right in front of the stage. Each is covered with a white tablecloth, pooling just slightly when it reaches the floor. Over top, a square of arctic blue linen rests so its corners just tip over the edges. In the center, a small vase of blue frosted glass holds an arrangement of almost bleached white branches framing an assortment of blue flowers, small ones all tightly gathered around each other in a ball, some elegant trumpets with pointed petals. The color palette is kept deliberately cool in a place that usually boasts warmer hues - a hint of more 'traditional' winters brought to the desert.
The food and drink on offer are almost as decadent as the decorations. There are servers weaving their way through the guests with trays of various goodies for those who want the food to come to them. Against one wall, there are long tables with more bite-sized morsels that are meant to be eaten with the fingers, everything from fancy canapes and mini spiderclaw cakes (Sytrenne highly recommends everyone tries these) to bacon wrapped sausages and wings in at least six different flavors from mild to 'burn your mouth and make you cry' hot. (These are labeled as such to avoid any…mishaps.) There is also a generous variety of Bazaar fare from the most popular vendors. To wash it all down with, there are servers winding their way through the guests with trays of wine glasses, all with local vintages. For something stronger, the bar is open, and there's also water and juice for those who want something without the kick.
Tlatoani Pool Hall
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It's a cozy kind of space, just large enough to serve for what it is without spreading patrons out too far. Wooden paneling - knot-riddled and well-polished hickory - adorns the walls, lending the space a particularly warm atmosphere. The wood is a persistent feature, from the small bar at the back to the stools in front of it, all the way through to storage cabinets and the three rustic pool tables that have been artfully arranged in the center of the space. The pool tables are truly the centerpiece, heavily wrought and with legs that resemble tree trunks - broad bases rising and narrowing as if rooted to the floor. Rich, red velvet serves as the surface, complementing the pale gold of the wood itself.
A smattering of other tables in the same scheme - heavy bases rising, treelike, to balance polished slices of wood with irregular edges on top. The chairs are just as rustic, with red cushions. Light is provided by warm, gold glass-shaded glowlamps, that coax out the honeyed hues of the space in their entirety. There is, unfortunately, no means to prepare food in this space, but utensils and napkins and other necessities are at the ready for those that bring their own.
Bazaar Garden
If you know the way, you can find a small oasis tucked in the back of the Bazaar. Up against the towering stone cliffs of the weyr, this garden is attached to a little home and food stall whose owners don't (usually) mind if a few people find rest and comfort in the greenery and relative coolness.
Space is at a premium, and most of the area is littered with pots of all shapes and sizes. Some mere buckets, others massive ceramic things, everything is green and growing and alive nestled here in the safety of the weyr's wall. A few huge desert trees were planted along the edges of the property turns and turns ago, their branches arching over the garden and providing more shade and shelter for the garden and anyone who wants to linger here.
There are a few benches and seats scattered throughout the maze of little pathways, and a few canvas awnings help protect the space from dust and wind. There is even a little pond in the back corner of the yard where little fish dart from the safety of overhanging bolders to snack on unsuspecting insects who come to drink.
Forgotten Cellar
There might have been glows here once, but they've long gone dead. This cellar is a bleak place, inhabited only by spinnerwebs and dust. The occasional draft stirs the air in a vague emulation of life, but not even the husks of spinners or trundlebugs can be found to rattle around. Entry and egress are one and the same, a boarded up door to a boarded up shop or long-emptied dwelling; in the end, it matters not. This place is forgotten, hollow and dark.
Hasaan's Salon
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It's a quaint, two-story building situated on a busy corner in the Bazaar, though it's not in the best part of the place. Large windows allow for plenty of light in the main floor, where a small rest area allows for visitors to sit and get comfy while they await their appointments. Fresh tea, klah, juice, pastries, and other such niceties are offered for guests, as well as an assortment of reading material for those that choose to wait.
A half-dozen chairs are set up with the expected equipment at hand; toward the back, a clever pump and plumbing system has been installed to allow for running water from a convenient cistern or well. Three hair-washing stations are conveniently located nearby, with an assortment of shampoos, conditioners, oils, and other concoctions to ensure hair is not only gorgeous and healthy, but smells incredible as well.
There is a room for storage and another for employees - and there are many of the latter, with Hasaan running the show, but anywhere from three to six young women working in various capacities to handle manicures, pedicures, and a variety of facial treatments. The second floor is still under renovation and the door to the stairs is locked.
Fresh Grounds
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What started as a fancy klah shop has evolved into one of the most expensive bakeries in the Bazaar. The owner is an enigma, the workers tight-lipped on who owns the place and how the items are made. Recipes? Under lock and key, no doubt. No Craft Bakers work here, and none are welcome to apply either. The offerings here are top notch and delicious, but the cost is high. Ever paid two marks for a dozen biscotti? You will at Fresh Grounds.
The shop is immaculate and well-kept, a klah brown and turquoise color scheme keeping things bright and cheerful, but modestly so. This is a nice place, after all, and everything is set just so. Display tables are set with an astonishing array of baked goods and pastries, everything baked and decorated to perfection. The workers all wear identical uniforms and are quick to get your order put into a little box tied neatly with brown twine. Everything here is refined and elegant and expensive.
Miss June's Bakery
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Down a narrow sidestreet in one of the less-prosperous areas of the Bazaar, is Miss June's Bakery. It's been open over 20 turns, the proprietor an older woman who runs her bakery with a combination of high standards and the willingness to give anyone a chance who is willing to work (or pay) to learn her baking. The shop is reached up two steps and through a wooden door, within being a wood paneled storefront with dark wood shelves displaying all manner of baked goods and jarred preserves. Bags of klah for brewing are often available as well. This bakery specializes in hand pies and bubblies, both savory and sweet, but all manner of breads are also available. Pies, cakes, and cookies are also for sale, most neatly decorated with brightly colored frosting.
The Rise
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What used to be an outside stall has now moved into its own building. The Rise is small, dingy, and a little dark, but the food is undeniably delicious. A counter borders an open kitchen, where the owner Zershul makes the food with occasional help from workers able to keep up with him. Few last long. Running the serving and the register is a steely-eyed woman named Margra who puts up with zero attitude. Come in, get your food, and get out. There are a few seats at the counter and a few tiny tables, but don't linger too long or you'll face Margra's wrath. This is a to-go establishment, not a sit down restaurant. But, again, the food is incredible. Only open for breakfast and lunch.
Gilly's Rooftop Tavern
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A nondescript entrance to a nondescript building will open into a nondescript, darkened hallway, with a locked door and the only choice forward, a staircase that immediately goes upwards. Whatever foreshadowing such an entrance gives, the rooftop — where the stairs lead — opens to a beautiful vista of the Bazaar and its rooftops. The space itself is small, relaxed, and cozy. A border of half-walled stone and potted plants enclose the open-spaced drinking hole, making the jump from rooftop-to-rooftop more difficult — though certainly not impossible. Old rugs lay and layer the stone flooring, with luxe, purple jacquard damask cushions arranged around decorative, octagonal tables supporting glow lanterns, leaving barely enough room for tea or shot glasses. Open only after sunset, Gilly's serves whiskey, mahia, arak, and spiced teas — and no food.
The Songbird
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The interior of The Songbird is dimly lit room. The air is filled with the soothing scent of incense and the soft strains of traditional Pernese music playing in the background. The walls are adorned with simple tapestries and handmade paintings and calligraphy, showcasing the works of local artists, providing a platform for artistic expression and contemplation. Plain woven rugs cover the well-worn wooden floors.
Low, basic seating arrangements are scattered throughout the room, with simple cushions on wooden benches, inviting guests to sit comfortably. The ceiling is unadorned, with exposed wooden beams overhead, and a few glow lanterns hanging from above cast a soft, warm glow, adding to the room's rustic atmosphere.
In one corner, a small stage is set up with traditional Pernese musical instruments, such as harpers' guitars and drums, ready for impromptu performances. Guests found inside engage in spirited conversations about art, philosophy, and music, their voices mingling with the soothing sound of a nearby bubbling fountain.
Administrative Courtyard
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Within the gold adorned columns, the courtyard is fitted with two paved walkways on the outer perimeters. Nestled between, more ornate tiling: dark ovals, off-white four-pointed stars, and the occasional decorative block portraying an artistic scene. A long ovoid pool centers there, the rims of thick stone against which floating petals and candles knock gently. On both ends, two miniature fountains ride up, though they are filled with fiery light and not falling water. This combination of torches and glows are evenly distributed about the courtyard. The interior, that is. For the pathways beneath the multitude of archways are suspiciously dark, as though the resources have been mismanaged — or not all business of the Bazaar occurs within the light. Although each area is kept meticulously swept, the pool fished of debris, there is a deceptively small staff doing so, and they are rarely seen.
Meeting Lounge
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Private Garden
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Spice of Life Apothecary
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The aromatic scents of a vast supply of various Pernese herbs greet visitors of the small apothecary shop upon entry. Branches of various herbs and spices hang loose above rows of rich burgundy shelving, and each shelf is stocked jar to jar, bottle to bottle with smaller loose teas, spices, herbs, salves and more. The wall opposite the front door contains a counter extending the width of the room, with space for the owner's use of mortar and pestle and other tools of the trade.
Steen TP Room (#28874)
Pit Hypogeum
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Beneath the vast digging of the Pit, the hypogeum is a warren of underground chambers and massive vaulted passageways for which fighters and champions to prepare, train with weights, or store equipment ready to be lifted up onto the main stage. It’s easy to become turned around in the identical spaces, though one cannot be lost forever, as eventually one will hit the curved border surrounding. Occasionally, rooms are set up to house animals being exhibited up above; when unused, the enormous metal chains hang on the wall ominously. The hypogeum are not true tunnels: the ceiling is really the Pit flooring, a wooden base that holds the mass of sand making up its theatre. What stone walls exist as the rest of the structure must be thick in order to support the roaring action above, and so little sound carries throughout, leaving the rattle and tsh of sand slipping through little cracks in the wood that permeates the atmosphere.
Pit Barracks
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This waiting chamber has the sweat of anticipation baked into its very walls. Directly below the rise onto the Pit floor, it is the holding pen for those waiting their turns to fight. From the gate to outside access, any noise from the crowds can be heard whistling through, sweeping the barracks with the adrenaline of the not yet determined. While the passageway is vaulted like the rest of the hypogeum, leaving plenty of space to stand, there are also squat stones of various heights and sizes planted in rows along the walls; presumably for sitting, although they look none too comfortable, and it’s likely difficult to relax enough to sit at this point in a fighter’s career. New banners have begun to be hung, lending an ornamental touch to the previously barren and unkempt walls. As new champions and events are unveiled, if they’ve paid for a sigil, it may find itself displayed there one day to inspire the latest wave of gladiators.
Steen Omni
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Decadence and function in balanced pairing with this refurbished compound made up in another partnership of reds and whites. From the double-doors leading in, a small entryway can be utilized for the purposes of the area’s evening. Swiftly it opens into the main event hall: opulently large for a Bazaar building, and a nearly unthinkable two stories. Beneath is an open rectangle, the edges of which are beneath the overhang of the upper level, lending some moody dimness alongside decorative glow lanterns. Precious white columns stand in guard along the length, as does an enormous red, white, and faded maroon rug. While the details may vary depending on the renter: always, thick clay pots of desert flowers, and a showing of fresh fruit abound. There is one more private room, with a raised stage, above; otherwise, the upper level is primarily a balcony all around the perimeter, with just a tall railing behind which to look down upon festivities.
Omni Upstairs
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See Omni.