allthekeys | [The Town]

1. The Bricklayer’s Shed:

Tucked in the shadow of the wall is a small wooden shed, barely stable enough to hold up against the elements. The shed houses a large kiln, as well as molds, clay and sand. A neat stack of fired bricks has been made outside the shed, blocking the wind from one direction. The kiln seems to be in constant use, the fire always stoked and fresh bricks are constantly being added to the pile. New bricks fill the molds and are added to the fire, and the tin fills with fresh mixture; all very efficiently done.

There is never anyone visible in the shed, no figure stirs within it. The process is done with nary a hand to be seen.

2. Smithy:

This building is warm and stifling from the constant fire in the hearth, despite the usually open windows. There’s usually noise from inside, the telltale clangs of steel against steel, of metals scraping together, the hiss of evaporating water. Though fairly cramped and crowded - or maybe precisely for that reason - the place seems oddly safe and at-home. The walls are lined with shelves and tools hanging from the walls, tongs, chisels and hammers fighting for space; the anvil is the centerpiece of the room, with the hearth furthest inside. There are numerous horseshoes, knives and tools around as well – some are for sale, others are there to showcase the craft and what you can get for your money.

The blacksmith’s apprentice struggles with some of the finer detail work and the heavy lifting, but the know-how is there – it’s the habit that’s missing. The blacksmith is nowhere to be seen, however, and the apprentice insists she can do whatever job you have in store for her.

3. The Cheese House:

A rather pleasantly appointed shop, one entire wall is covered in wheels of different kinds of cheese, ranging in size and color from small wax wrapped packets to large enough that it would take two men to carry. Some of the wheels are incomplete, chunks missing from prior purchases, although cheese is hardly the only thing on offer at the shop. It seems as though this is the place where the odds and ends of the town have been placed for sale.

Jar of pickles, jams, jellies, and other preserved fruits and vegetables are stacked neatly on the shelves, each bearing the same distinct but unfamiliar mark of manufacturer. Flour, sugar and salt can also be purchased here, as well as dried beans and other sundry grocery items. Butter, milk, other spreads and softer cheeses can be purchased at the counter for those who have the coin to buy them. Fresh fruit, roots and vegetables can be purchased in their season here as well. There seems to be little that cannot be found on the shelves, and should there be an item that the discerning guests might wish for, it seems only right to ask for it so that it might be procured.

The parents have vanished from the shop as of Day 010 and the daughter tends shop here with her new born child. A few of the guests can often be found here, working to keep the shop in good repair and the shelves stocked. She is a sturdy girl of about eighteen, has a scar that stretches from just above one eyebrow to the other side of her face, stopping at the chin.

Behind the shop is a small dairy, holding six contented milk cows who seem entirely unbothered by their lot in life. The daughter can often be found here, tending to the cows or milking them.

Above the shop is a well lit and comfortable dwelling, though any guests who find their ways here will be politely but firmly directed to leave.

Beneath the house, in the basement, lay shelves and shelves of aging cheese. The smell is quite pungent and no one would particularly desire to linger here for long. A small hearth with heavy pots allows for jams, jellies and pickles to be made.

4. The Tailor’s Shop:

This shop is boarded up with only the exterior sign visible. There is no clear way to enter, though a bit of prying at the boards will grant the determined entry to the small business.

The air is cold inside the shop and full of dust; cloth covered mannequins stand eerie sentry in the otherwise empty shop. Bolts of fabric are neatly shelved and stored, and no bugs seem to have disturbed them.

A row of neat prices are printed on the board behind the counter, but it is clear that the tailor has not been here for some time. A half finished gown sags off one of the mannequins behind a curtain, realistic enough that it could easily give an explorer a fright should they wander through the building alone. Above the shop is a small dwelling, just as cold and dusty as the shop downstairs.

Some food stores remain, though little of use to anyone. The house has been left in good condition save for the dust, waiting, it seems, only for the master to return. The windows are also boarded, though a little light manages to make its way inside during the daytime. A woman’s chemise lies over a chair, a mended spot at one of the hems, and a small sewing kit sitting on the floor next to it. The armoire holds clothes for a man and a woman, with a smaller trunk near a small cot holding clothes for a child. Near one of the windows are a few discarded toys, tin soldiers and thimbles, clearly forgotten by the child who played with them.

Though there is no sign of a struggle, there is something unsettling about the shop with its half finished tasks and left behind pieces of a life interrupted. It seems best not to linger here for long.

5. Butcher Shop:

Fresh meat is stacked almost carelessly on the counter; sausages and dried meats hang from the ceiling and are stacked haphazardly on shelves. Baskets of bones and offal sit on the floor and barrels of salted fish heavy with brine sit near the door.

It is a very well stocked shop, although it is messy and there seems to be a careless air to everything, save for the prices printed neatly on the wall by the counter. It seems that bone would be the cheapest to buy for any hungry houseguests, tired of the gruel the castle supplies.

The smell in the shop is unpleasant at best, and sure to put a few more modern guests off the thought of adding meat to their supper.

The back room holds freshly slaughtered carcasses, hanging suspended on ropes while they are broken down, and buckets hold blood and entrails, as well as messy piles of bones that have been stripped of most of their flesh.

Attempting to steal from this shop will result in the loss of a limb, though any of the more adventurous can retrieve fresh bones and discarded flesh from the trash heap behind the shop.

6. Metalworker’s Shop:

This building is old, but obviously built with a good eye and a loving hand, well cared for through generations even though it now stands empty. It was never properly boarded up and the lock has been worked open, so entering is easy, although there is little there to find other than a layer of dust and cobwebs covering a fine shop and a comfortable, well-kept home.

The fireplace on the first floor should still work, provided the chimney isn’t clogged. Tools can be found around the room, particularly on what appears to be a work bench and hanging off designated places on the walls; hammers, pliers, tongs, tweezers, and files. There are magnifiers and tools for engraving, as well as for cleaning and polishing. However, whatever it was that had been worked on in here appears to be missing.

Stairs lead up to the second floor where there are two bedrooms and what might have been a living room. Clothes remain, seemingly from both a woman and a child, although fewer than would be expected of such a home.

7. The Brewery:

Large wooden barrels of ale stand in neat stacks against the wall, each stamped with dates. Smaller bottles and jugs are nearer to the counter, clearly available for purchase. Other, harder alcohol and wine can also be purchased here.

The shop is well tended and very nicely built; though attempting to take anything from it without payment will result in the guest finding themselves pulled outside by an unseen force and introduced to an equally unseen cudgel. Though the brewer is never seen, he will take payment easily over the counter. In the back of the shop other barrels are stacked, not yet ready for sale. Beneath the brewery is a small basement where further product is stored along with stills and large wooden vats, although it is rare that anyone be invited to see the basement and the brewer clearly values their private space.

8. Market Square:

There is nothing particularly remarkable about this space. It is little more than open range of cobblestone that stretches far enough to host a large crowd and hopefully some booths as well for people to sell their wares or advertise their causes, with a tall pole in the center, the head capped with tiny battered tin figures, long past recognition of what they were intended to be. Currently only one table is set up, a simple rickety thing at the head of the square. Some faded and illegible papers are weighed down by a moderately sized rock.

9. The Well:

Covered by a small, wall less roofed structure this small well seems like it should be a bustling hive of activity, but the rope connected to the bucket at its depths seems unusually new and clean for something that should have been used many times, and the stones around it are unmarked by mud or dirt.

The bucket, once drawn, is made of very clean, new wood. There is no weathering.

Still, the water from the well tastes fresh and seems to have no ill-effects.

10. Apothecary:

This small shop has a pleasant air as one enters it, the bells above the door jangling welcomingly. Dried herbs line the rafters and the walls, jars holding their contents neatly labeled. The shelves are also lined with ointments and oils, soaps and liquid medicines. There are even jars of honey and batches of tea leaves. It seems that almost anything you might desire to treat anything that ails you might be found here—or made, if you ask politely.

Candles are nearer to the counter, lending their warm scents to the room. Snake skin hangs on the wall for luck and health, in between rows of tools for bleeding. A jar of leeches stands discreetly off to the side of the counter.

Through the main room is a smaller one, and both rooms are kept pleasantly warm, the small fireplace that is kept stoked and cheerfully burning away. The second room appears to be mostly a work area where concoctions can be made to order, or simply to experiment with. The shopkeeper is often seen bustling about, and is kind enough to delay payment if something is needed urgently.

A small but thriving garden is kept at the back of the shop, for medicinal herbs and plants.

11. Confectionary Shop:

A welcoming little house, part stall and part home, the candy-maker is not hard to find here. The front area is opened up like a porch for the shopkeeper to chat with her customers and give her a place to display her wares – hard candy mostly, but also toffees, fudges and chocolate. If she’s not found there, she’s most certainly through the door and the combined kitchen/work area that can be found there, surrounded by pots and pans and ingredients. She prides herself on keeping fresh fruit and greens for flavor, and there are of course also a variety of sugars and bowls and containers to be found as well, all stocked on shelves lining the room.

12. The Bakery:

In contrast to the beaten down appearance of most of the buildings in the square, the bakery has been painted and painstakingly cared for. Opening the door causes a small bell above it to jingle and the front of the shop is beautifully organized. The smell of fresh bread is enough to cause anyone’s stomach to rumble, and the cleanliness of the shop is in stark contrast to anywhere else in the castle.

Baskets of breads, bagels, cakes, biscuits, and fresh baked cookies share space with every sort of baked goods imaginable. A small counter at the back of the store holds a small metal box that seems to serve the purpose as a cash box, next to a pad of paper, quill pen, and a vial of ink.

Meat rolls and pies sit under a glass case, waiting to be selected. The bread is all fresh, still warm as though it has just been taken from the oven.

A thin curtain separates the shop from the back ovens, the source of the warmth that keeps the shop so pleasant, though this area is still well kept flour hangs heavy in the air. Fresh dough sits on several of the counters, allowed to rise before it is slipped into the ovens. A smaller cubby holds a bed and a few personal possessions, tucked near enough to the warmth of the ovens that the occupant is surely one of the most comfortable people in the town.

Unlike any of the other shops, there will be no punishment meted out for stealing; the baker, a tired, silent, thin man, can often be found at work in the shop.

13. Toy Shop:

This store seems oddly crowded for a shop that rarely has more than the keeper in it. The sensation of being crowded in on just makes the emptiness all the more poignant. The shelves are full to the brim with toys of varying shapes and sizes, figures and dolls, all clearly handmade, all arranged neatly in a row. Not a speck of a dust sits on them, and they are well maintained. A lot of care has gone into the organization of this store.

Behind the counter there are more rows of shelves, each with carefully lined tools and supplies: neatly folded pieces of fabric, small piles of timber, as well as small saws and hammers. Clearly these are the toy maker’s tools of her trade, and all of them are just as well tended as the toys themselves.

The woman sitting at the counter looks surprised and then positively ecstatic every time someone walks into her shop.

14. Pub:

This squat and wide building is rather quaint from the outside, done up in red and yellow as if to beckon attention to its side. A little canopy hangs over the door, which is soundly locked. Peering into the windows reveals a gloomy but tidy little restaurant and bar, everything neatly arranged but not a soul in sight.

At night, however, the building lights up. There is the sound of hooting and hollering from inside as if a celebration is underway. Looking inside, however, is impossible, as the light is nearly blinding to look at; the door will not open for entry.

15. House 1:

A quaint little residence, at first glance this home is spotless, neat and tidy. The fireplace crackles invitingly at any hour, in any season, and there is the pleasant smell of spice wafting through the air—with just the hint of a scent of iron beneath it all. A man tends to the fire from time to time, and smiles pleasantly to any who enter his home. The table is set for four.

All other rooms of this house are padlocked shut from the outside.

16. House 2:

This house reeks. The air is stale and thick with dust and dirt, and no one has cleaned anything in it for some time. The windows, smeared with grime, don’t let any light filter through. Any attempts to light a fire will find the wood too damp to cooperate.

Several pieces of furniture are on strange angles, or aren’t even upright at all. Shattered glass and ceramics are strewn about. The curtains are torn down from the windows and shredded. Food is slathered on the walls. In the bedrooms, the pillows are gouged and the sheets are ripped from the bed.

All that seems to have survived unscathed are six flower vases sitting on various window sills. Only one of them actually holds any flowers—though they are, perhaps unsurprisingly, wilted.

17. House 3:

Though well maintained on the outside, inside this dwelling is not in the best condition. The bed, or what was once a bed, is covered with torn, bloodied rags and the kitchen, such as there is of one, is a filthy mess. The hearth is cold, covered in ash and spilt food. The one pot has a dried crust of something unrecognizable burned to the inside.

There is a large assortment of weaponry in this house, and though no sign of the occupant is seen, the guests will find themselves feeling loathe to pick it up or to try to take it with them. There is something off about it, a coldness that grips them when they try to pick up any of the knives or axes that lay about. One axe in particular, a double bladed affair, will chill the person who lays a hand upon it no matter the warmth of the day.

Half broken down carcasses and tanned hides are kept in the small shack against the side of the house, and some attempt at smoking the meat has obviously been made. This is the only place in the house that the experience of the dweller is obvious; the hides are well tanned and the meat shows every sign of being well looked after. The fire here is warm and smoky.

Several fat, lazy cats make their homes on the porch here and watch the guests curiously.

18. House 4:

This small, neat stone house is only one proper room, with curtains draped between the areas to give a suggestion of separation. A large loft space above the living area holds a comfortable bed with a faded quilt; there are two other smaller beds on the lower floor, although there seem to be only two people living here. Near one of the beds is a toy sword, the handle cracked with use and the wood worn smooth from constant use. Tucked into the other bed, as though she has only just been forgotten is a small rag doll. The owners of these treasures are not to be found.

The woman sits in a chair near the fire occasionally rising to tend the flames or stir a pit, but she seems rather blank. A basket of mending sits by her chair, and she occasionally lifts some small item to tend. In the lean two beside the house her husband cuts and stacks wood, though by now the pile is so tall it scarcely seems obvious why he continues this task.

19. Monastery:

While it is dwarfed by the castle, this wide, low building is nonetheless impressive and makes a clear point of interest in the little town. The edifice is old, but carefully maintained, patched together where necessary so that everything holds together nicely. The grey-brown bricks might have been imposing, were it not for the soft light pouring through stained glass windows that depict strange but beautiful scenes. Especially at night, the candle light from inside seems inviting somehow.

Getting in, however, is another matter entirely. The tall wooden doors are locked tight. But knocking does get a response: a young woman clad all in tan clothes opens the door cautiously and steps outside to speak to those who have come to visit. She smiles and informs the visitor that the monks inside are not to be disturbed right now, but she is more than glad to show their guest around back to the gardens.

20. Gardens:

Around back of the monastery there is a small gate leading to a fruitful garden. The young woman from the monastery has the key, but bypassing the lock is easily enough done and so the gardens can be enjoyed even without disturbing the inhabitants of the abbey. The entire field is lined with brick walls just tall enough and smooth enough to prove impossible to scale. A heavy mist can be seen just beyond the walls, looming and waiting, seemingly stopped despite easily reaching above the height of the barrier and completing the blockade.

The gardens themselves are full of beautiful, exotic plants and flowers, all clearly lovingly taken care of. Vines creep up the walls, bushes dot the perimeter, and several neat rows of trees stand sentry. Each offers something to the curious: fruit, flowers, medicinal herbs. There is a great variety of fruit and berries, both known and unknown, to be found here.

Tending to the gardens are tall, lithe figures clad in tan, hoods pulled over their heads to obscure their features. Some simply meditate, but most run bluish hands over the plants and sing softly to them, encouraging them to grow and produce a bountiful harvest. It is not immediately obvious if their care has any real effect.

The monks seem to have entered the garden from the back door of the monastery, but no one will use or open the door so long as a guest is in the gardens.

21. The Shelter:

Toward the back of the garden, almost against the farthest wall from the monastery, is a simple overhang over stones placed on the garden floor. The structure is sturdy enough, offering rudimentary shelter from the elements. While the purpose might not be immediately obvious, a sign hanging from the centre might clear up the mystery: let not the fearful weather reach your bones or your heart.

22. Rose Cottage:

One of the small houses stands away from the others, nestled in by where the low restrictive wall meets the actual wall of the castle. Vibrant green vines grow up the walls and over the roof, blooming vivid purple across the house. Rose bushes form a thorny boundary around the house. A wooden bin beside the house is filled with a mixture of various manures and some refuse.

The house has been cleaned up and neatened, with the vines cleared away from the windows and doors, a state they seem to have accepted. Rusted hoes, rakes, sickles, shears, and harvest scythes have been sorted by a tool rack, with a cursory attempt at salvaging the metal; an iron cauldron hangs over the firepit. The simple bed has been mended, while the loft has a curtain hung around a bed there. By one window, a small row of clay pots stands, each one filled with moist earth; small, vibrant sprouts are growing new shoots. A trunk beside the window holds jars of various seeds, labeled in an unfamiliar language. A larger broad clay pot holds a rosebush that has well overgrown its container, the thorned branches creeping oddly low across the ground around it; they seem to shift threateningly at anyone approaching save those that have become familiar to it. The shed has been cleaned as well, any rotted food disposed of.

Outside the house a small garden patch has been cleared and tended to, with vegetables growing, while there is a chicken coop that has been repaired and also cleaned and tended.

23. The Burned Out Row:

These smoldering ruins at first look like any other part of this rather tattered town, it is only on perhaps the second pass that one realizes that something is deeply wrong with the houses.

Though it appears the structures were at the start different, severing different purposes, now they form identical ruins. The damage patterns are exactly the same, the surviving clay pots placed in exactly the same place. Each is now a carbon copy of the others.

What caused this damage is not possible to determine.

24. Temple Inn:

This beautiful structure was made out of a communal desire to have it. The first floor is open, with the new wood gleaming and the smell of sweet oil filling the air. There are benches spread throughout the area, simple affairs that would not be too uncomfortable to lay down upon if there were no beds to be had. Unlike what one might expect, there is no alter here, only a small low table near the door that holds both candles and incense. The walls are made of bright wood, insulating the outer stone and helping to secure the structure. The door itself is large, easily four paces wide and seven tall. It is banded with iron, and though it opens easily, the bar that leans against the back seems to imply that it could easily be blocked against intruders.

There are beautiful murals painted onto the walls of seven men riding in a number of battles, facing a variety of unseemly foes. These foes range in size and hideousness, though they all have traces of a strange black substance that has been painted in a way that appears still wet, though it is dry and harmless to the touch. Each battle is attended by the same beautiful woman. One of the men is crowned with light, and the others with recognizable standards to those who have been inside the castle. Strangely, their faces remain indistinct and many times have been left off the depictions entirely.

Every five paces a lantern stands, the oil within sweetened in a way that leaves the air heavy and fragrant, though not unpleasantly. It allows anyone walking through the chamber a clear view of the murals on the wall. There are no windows.

On the wall farthest from the door stands a statue of a woman. She is neither old nor young, seemingly timeless. The statue itself is made of a polished white stone that seems to glow with an inner radiance, though it remains only warm to the touch. A relief of the seven men has been carved at her feet, each face upturned to gaze at her, their expressions full of awe.

In the very back, nearer to the door and directly across from the figure is the statue of a man carved from polished, dark stone. Nothing can be seen of his face, though his body stands out with stark relief, the drape of fabric that conceals his face also preserving modesty. He is well muscled, with bare feet that turn as though statue itself will shortly start to move, one hand outstretched, though the fingers do not point. It seems darker against this wall than at any other place in the hall, cool, but not cold. The flames seem to keep their distance.

A stone stair leads both upwards and downwards.

The Lower Chamber:

Another open chamber, though somewhat encumbered with wide shelves that are still a little bare. There are several small hearths, and at least one always holds some manner of food being cooked. Bread ovens set into the wall almost always have dough in one state of baking or another within them, and a wide, comfortable table with benches serves as both a work station and a place to eat for those that stay here. There is a constant flow of people here, and the townsfolk and those who built this place seem fairly communal with its use.

The walls are made of bare stone, some of it still blackened from its earlier destruction, though it has been scrubbed to remove the worst of the soot. Bundles of pine boughs have been set atop the shelves, giving the air a fragrance that does not quite manage to cover the lingering burned smell up. Only time will leach it from the stone.

The shelves are being slowly filled with preserved food and other small items, extra blankets and clothes are brought with the same manner one might give an offering to a church. Whatever extra the town seems to have is brought here, with everyone giving at least a little and all welcome to take as much as they need.

Wash Chamber:

A wash chamber off to one side is rather open for privacy, but fresh soap is kept here and the water in the pool is both clean and relatively warm, for those who wish to soak.

It runs rather deeply in the center, with even the tallest finding the warm water to be over their head. The chamber itself seems to have been carved from a cave, and flickering lights have been placed in stone bowls. Anyone climbing up to see what they are will find only a collection of what look like coals, small, black stones that glow like embers. They will quickly be advised to get down should anyone catch them.

Places for them to relive themselves are further back in the cave, though this is little more than a deep trough that drains to somewhere unknown.

The Upper Chamber:

Beds line the walls here and though they are basic affairs, every effort has been made to make them comfortable, even if they are not very private. They are little more than straw stuffed mattresses atop low wooden frames, covered with plain blankets. A few have pillows, though many do not and it is left for those coming to rest in them to bring such extravagance with them. The mattresses do smell sweetly of straw, and are aired often. The room is not drafty, and personal items left here will not be stolen by any of the other residence, though they may be inspected. The space to the left of the bed is given over to its occupant for storage, though any containment for said items must be purchased or brought from elsewhere.

There is a single window here, cut so that anyone standing at it can see anyone standing at the entrance of the place, the panes swing wide and seem to provide an adequate watch position. The person who sleeps in the bed nearest it most often seems to have the task of keeping that watch. There are people here near constantly, sleeping or tending to gear, and overall it seems to be a relatively comfortable place. The innkeeper will charge a fee of 16C per night to sleep here, but that includes as much food as one could eat.

A narrow door on the opposite wall leads to a wide, wooden stair that takes those who enter it to the belltower, where the innkeeper often lingers himself.

The Belltower:

Though most of the space here is taken up by the watch bells above, there is a small, narrow apartment where the rope minder finds his rest, with an even narrower stair that gives someone access to the open space surrounding the bells themselves.

Little more than a cot and a small trunk occupy this area, with a bowl for washing sat out neatly on a shelf, and a bucket for waste has been left on the floor near the door. It stinks, but is kept relatively clean by the occupant.

Those who attempt to gain the old man's attention will find that he only smiles at them and goes about his work, ringing the bells at set times throughout the day.

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[The Town]

Day 7