Lothmar

  • #1
    This is a short description of a setting that I'm wanting to use in a fanfic I may or may not write in the future, just thought I'd share it and maybe get some feedback.


    Lothmar was an average sized town in the middle of no-where. Situated against the mountains to the south of Westmarch and to the far west of Tristram, the small farming community didn't see much travel besides merchants trading for vegetables.
    The town is scattered with small houses built from cobble stone, with mossy thatched roofs. The main road contained a few buildings of significance. To the left right before you reached the gates were the stables, only big enough to hold four horses, but smelled like at least twelve.

    Once you entered the weathered stone walls of the city the smell of manure became slightly less apparant and you may, on a good day, even smell the food being cooked in the tavern down the road. To the right side of the road was the blacksmithy, loud clanking noises resonating from within and glimpses of sparks, as hammer meets metal.

    Across the road from the blacksmith was the open air market, where you could buy many kinds of fruits and vegetables, some rare and unique to this region. The mountains and valleys surrounding the area provided a bountiful harvest. Besides the normal wild game, also for sale, you could buy curious beasts harvested from the sea to the west. Some spined, some with pincers, some with fins and fangs, and even some slippery and long almost as if a serpent.

    Straight down the street you could see the inn, which doubled as a tavern, equipped with a well in front of it at the town square. The windows all filled with candle light and smoke billowed out of the chimney as food was cooked. Above the heavy wooden door was a gaudy sign hanging about, swinging slowly in the wind. Sprawled across it was an unholy red impish figure with a large jagged smile on it's face. Below the painting was the name of the tavern, "The Grinning Demon."

    The rest of the town slowly climbed the hillside toward the mountain and seemed to be mostly houses and a few smaller farms. The bigger farms being towards the outsides of the town, near the walls, but still inside.

    The village still holds onto it's individual culture and religion, despite the Zakarum faith becoming ever more popular. They worship Eos, The Lightbringer. Their god is said to reside in the mountains to the south of them where they have a shrine set up to honor him. Adorned with white marble, ivory, and gold, this is the only remarkable place in this town, and a pretty well hidden secret from outsiders who would plunder the shrine for their own gain. The valley beyond the shrine is forbidden land only for god to inhabit. Anyone who enters that forest is never seen or heard from again.

    In the middle of the shrines courtyard stands a single white marble statue, a depection of their deity. The figure stood upright, but that was almost all that was human about it. It's face was smooth and blank, except for creases where eyes should be but they appeared to be shut. In it's right palm it delicately held a golden orb representing the sun, the daylight. In it's left hand it clutched an onyx orb almost as if trying to crush it. It represented the moon, and the night time.

    Out of the back of the being grew six large wings, like that of a hawk or other large bird, three on each side. It's physique was inhumanly impressive, muscles sculpted perfectly so, no mere mortal could ever achieve such symmetry or definition. It wore no clothes, or robes, though it did not need to, it had nothing about it's groin but contoured smooth stone. The mere carving of the statue itself was beyond comprehension, with such crude tools in the area.

    Once a year in the fall, there is a festival held. The festival of the Lightbringer, when the townspeople make sacrifices of gold, gems, valuables, and even the blood of farm animals. They then pray to the statue to protect them from the darkness. It's because in this time of the year, the night time becomes an hour longer. Every year during the festival, for the last five years someone has went missing.
  • #2
    We talked already, but if any other ideas of yours pop up, just lmk.
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