Post by Arcady on Nov 10, 2006 15:58:50 GMT -5
The Castle Gates
The castle at Thel'finan is a modest affair. It lacks the stone spires and vaulted cielings popular in so many of Edarin's airy castles. While large and spanning enough ground for a small city to fit wihin, the building itself is practically built low to the ground, one story in height only with a stone wall around it and an arched gateway monitored by one guard.
Today, that guard is a tall, slender Thrae'Goden Elf wearing a bored expression. As you approach, he is leaning on his spear, hiding a yawn behind his hand, looking as if he'd give anything to just go home to the Valley but it's his month of guard duty and so he's enduring it as best he can.
He startles when he sees you approach. The Castle is open to everyone, but for precautionary reasons all who enter must be checked upon entry. He rights himself and leans his spear against the wall. "I have to check you for dangerous items and sash-seal any weapons you have on your person," he says lazily. Sash-sealing is common practice in Thel'finan, involving tying a sash around any weapons in such a way that makes them difficult to draw without first untying the complicated knot on the sash. "I'm supposed to remind you that weapons are not to be drawn during your visit to the castle, that the gates close at eight in the evening, and the East Wing of the Castle Proper is Off Limits to the Public, so don't go snooping around just to try to get a look at the King. He isn't at home anyway." His deep blue eyes seem to say that if he was, this guard might be a little more excited about his duty. "Now I'll need you to sign in so that we can keep a head count. So place your mark on this scroll if you would. When you leave, please see me so I can cross it off the list."
He looks so terribly bored as he says all this it's hard not to feel a little pity for him, but who cares, this is Thel'finan Castle, after all! There's much to see and do.
"I also have to inform you that should you injure yourself on premises, the clinic is behind the first door to your left when you enter the Castle Proper. Someone there will help you. Enjoy your stay."
After all, someone ought to be enjoying themselves, he seems to tell you without words, tucking the scroll into his belt again, picking up his spear, and leaning back against the wall to wait for the next person who wants to enter. Well, it's a living.
The Clinic
After pushing the heavy oak doors that lead into the Castle Proper, a much smaller, more modest door to the left bears a burnt wood cross on the door--well known across Edarin as the symbol of a medic due to its popularity among alchemists.
Beyond this is a simple but carefully decorated room. The queen believes the stark atmosphere of many clinics is more hindrance than help to ailing patients, and so she has servants come by throughout the day to freshen linens, make sure the curtains are open to let the sunlight in, and replace dead flowers with fresh ones.
Queen Dalia herself can be seen today at the far rear of a row of cots, smiling down at a little boy and checking his temperature, a storybook folded in her lap. The distance is to great to hear what she says, but she exudes a maternal warmth that can be noted even from this distance.
Closer to you, by the door, a tall, slim Albian places a container of penicillin back into the medicine cabinet. The weather at Thel'finan is cool enough that he doesn't even appear uncomfortable--the city so close to his own home in Windwarren. A visiting alchemist, from the looks of him, his long blond hair pulled back into a rather simple plait as if he simply doesn't have the time to fiddle with it overmuch in the morning. He pushes a stray strand away from his silver eyes. "Are you visiting one of the patients?" he asks. "Or injured? You look well enough from where I stand."
The Library
One of the most popular locations among visitors to Thel'finan Castle is its Grand library. Past the Clinic, around the bend, and nestled in the North wing, the Castle Library is famous for its accumulation of knowledge and its novel idea of 'free lending'. One may borrow a book from this establishment for an extended period of time, so long as they promise to return it and pay for repair of any damages recieved while in their possession.
It has also become common practice to donate books from afar to this library when one happens this way--in fact its become, oddly, a rather fashionable practice among nobles. 'Yes yes, today I went Riding with Sir Argahd, sparred with Lady Simone, had tea with Ravinia in the Castle Gardens and donated a few books to the Library, oh yes yes, just a few things picked up in my many travels, you know...' That kind of thing--though pesants are also fond of the habit, knowing they can borrow the book back at any time as long as it isn't in someone else's possession.
The Castle Librarian is a man by the name of Garith. Garith is roughly middle aged with hair the deep reddish shade of mahogany and hazel eyes. He's distinguished rather than particularly handsome, and bears a look about him of one who prefers an easy life. So it was that he took to the Castle Library rather than joining the rank of sentinels when he was but a young thing as his father had wished of him. He finds much humor in the story, saying, "who knew ten centuries later my little bout of laziness would find me in such a pleasant occupation!"
Today, as you enter, he can be found at the back shelf with a quill tapping against his lip as he looks over the contents of the shelf. "Vashin, Veram, Viyana. ...Ninteen books under 'V' again, but how can that be?" he muses. "I'm certain I only had eighteen this morning. Where did the extra one come from?" He scratches his head in confusion, trying to go over and find the name that isn't on his inventory. A thoughtful frown creases his brow, and then he notes that your presence, and turns. "Oh! Ah, I mean welcome!" he stumbles awkwardly, closing the journal and trying to rub some ink from his stained fingers to look more presentable. "You didn't happen to donate a book starting with 'V' and forget to mention it by chance?" He sighs. "No, I suppose you didn't. Well, anyway, what can I help you with?"
The Kitchens and Public Dining Area
When one spends the day touring the Castle Grounds, they often get hungry. For this purpose the Castle Kitchen is always open and left in the expert hands of two siblings--the children of one of the Queen's oldest and dearest friends, Daryun. The elder is a young man of perhaps two centuries with chestnut hair and an outgoing personality. He's ever smiling and laughing--a very amiable fellow often off and about trading for rare spices in which cases he leaves affairs in the Castle Kitchen to his younger sister.
Today, however, Yanuun is present and spins about the dining hall setting places and humming to himself. The man is rather fair of feature with dusty brown hair and chestnut eyes, braided, but currently tied off at the nape of his neck for convenience's sake.
He smiles those chestnut eyes up at you as you enter. "Welcome!" he announces. "You've come at just the right time! I've recently returned with many new spices from Garumeth. So we are preparing many fine meals for you to choose from. What would you like? Venison, Beef, can I suggest our Chicken a la Sol? Cooked to a nice golden brown and a light cheese sauce that's just to die for."
To his left, a more frail and small woman sighs, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Yanuun, don't be so overbearing, let him/her look at the menu and decide for him/herself!" she complains a bit.
"Nonsense, Anyuun!" he tells his younger sister. "You need to be a little more outgoing," he scolds his sister playfully, turning a charming smile on you and saying, "a shy girl, but sweet, if only I can find her a husband. Ah, but that's not what you're here for, the food, the food!" he says with the excitement of a man who loves his work. "Come now, what can I get you?"
The castle at Thel'finan is a modest affair. It lacks the stone spires and vaulted cielings popular in so many of Edarin's airy castles. While large and spanning enough ground for a small city to fit wihin, the building itself is practically built low to the ground, one story in height only with a stone wall around it and an arched gateway monitored by one guard.
Today, that guard is a tall, slender Thrae'Goden Elf wearing a bored expression. As you approach, he is leaning on his spear, hiding a yawn behind his hand, looking as if he'd give anything to just go home to the Valley but it's his month of guard duty and so he's enduring it as best he can.
He startles when he sees you approach. The Castle is open to everyone, but for precautionary reasons all who enter must be checked upon entry. He rights himself and leans his spear against the wall. "I have to check you for dangerous items and sash-seal any weapons you have on your person," he says lazily. Sash-sealing is common practice in Thel'finan, involving tying a sash around any weapons in such a way that makes them difficult to draw without first untying the complicated knot on the sash. "I'm supposed to remind you that weapons are not to be drawn during your visit to the castle, that the gates close at eight in the evening, and the East Wing of the Castle Proper is Off Limits to the Public, so don't go snooping around just to try to get a look at the King. He isn't at home anyway." His deep blue eyes seem to say that if he was, this guard might be a little more excited about his duty. "Now I'll need you to sign in so that we can keep a head count. So place your mark on this scroll if you would. When you leave, please see me so I can cross it off the list."
He looks so terribly bored as he says all this it's hard not to feel a little pity for him, but who cares, this is Thel'finan Castle, after all! There's much to see and do.
"I also have to inform you that should you injure yourself on premises, the clinic is behind the first door to your left when you enter the Castle Proper. Someone there will help you. Enjoy your stay."
After all, someone ought to be enjoying themselves, he seems to tell you without words, tucking the scroll into his belt again, picking up his spear, and leaning back against the wall to wait for the next person who wants to enter. Well, it's a living.
The Clinic
After pushing the heavy oak doors that lead into the Castle Proper, a much smaller, more modest door to the left bears a burnt wood cross on the door--well known across Edarin as the symbol of a medic due to its popularity among alchemists.
Beyond this is a simple but carefully decorated room. The queen believes the stark atmosphere of many clinics is more hindrance than help to ailing patients, and so she has servants come by throughout the day to freshen linens, make sure the curtains are open to let the sunlight in, and replace dead flowers with fresh ones.
Queen Dalia herself can be seen today at the far rear of a row of cots, smiling down at a little boy and checking his temperature, a storybook folded in her lap. The distance is to great to hear what she says, but she exudes a maternal warmth that can be noted even from this distance.
Closer to you, by the door, a tall, slim Albian places a container of penicillin back into the medicine cabinet. The weather at Thel'finan is cool enough that he doesn't even appear uncomfortable--the city so close to his own home in Windwarren. A visiting alchemist, from the looks of him, his long blond hair pulled back into a rather simple plait as if he simply doesn't have the time to fiddle with it overmuch in the morning. He pushes a stray strand away from his silver eyes. "Are you visiting one of the patients?" he asks. "Or injured? You look well enough from where I stand."
The Library
One of the most popular locations among visitors to Thel'finan Castle is its Grand library. Past the Clinic, around the bend, and nestled in the North wing, the Castle Library is famous for its accumulation of knowledge and its novel idea of 'free lending'. One may borrow a book from this establishment for an extended period of time, so long as they promise to return it and pay for repair of any damages recieved while in their possession.
It has also become common practice to donate books from afar to this library when one happens this way--in fact its become, oddly, a rather fashionable practice among nobles. 'Yes yes, today I went Riding with Sir Argahd, sparred with Lady Simone, had tea with Ravinia in the Castle Gardens and donated a few books to the Library, oh yes yes, just a few things picked up in my many travels, you know...' That kind of thing--though pesants are also fond of the habit, knowing they can borrow the book back at any time as long as it isn't in someone else's possession.
The Castle Librarian is a man by the name of Garith. Garith is roughly middle aged with hair the deep reddish shade of mahogany and hazel eyes. He's distinguished rather than particularly handsome, and bears a look about him of one who prefers an easy life. So it was that he took to the Castle Library rather than joining the rank of sentinels when he was but a young thing as his father had wished of him. He finds much humor in the story, saying, "who knew ten centuries later my little bout of laziness would find me in such a pleasant occupation!"
Today, as you enter, he can be found at the back shelf with a quill tapping against his lip as he looks over the contents of the shelf. "Vashin, Veram, Viyana. ...Ninteen books under 'V' again, but how can that be?" he muses. "I'm certain I only had eighteen this morning. Where did the extra one come from?" He scratches his head in confusion, trying to go over and find the name that isn't on his inventory. A thoughtful frown creases his brow, and then he notes that your presence, and turns. "Oh! Ah, I mean welcome!" he stumbles awkwardly, closing the journal and trying to rub some ink from his stained fingers to look more presentable. "You didn't happen to donate a book starting with 'V' and forget to mention it by chance?" He sighs. "No, I suppose you didn't. Well, anyway, what can I help you with?"
The Kitchens and Public Dining Area
When one spends the day touring the Castle Grounds, they often get hungry. For this purpose the Castle Kitchen is always open and left in the expert hands of two siblings--the children of one of the Queen's oldest and dearest friends, Daryun. The elder is a young man of perhaps two centuries with chestnut hair and an outgoing personality. He's ever smiling and laughing--a very amiable fellow often off and about trading for rare spices in which cases he leaves affairs in the Castle Kitchen to his younger sister.
Today, however, Yanuun is present and spins about the dining hall setting places and humming to himself. The man is rather fair of feature with dusty brown hair and chestnut eyes, braided, but currently tied off at the nape of his neck for convenience's sake.
He smiles those chestnut eyes up at you as you enter. "Welcome!" he announces. "You've come at just the right time! I've recently returned with many new spices from Garumeth. So we are preparing many fine meals for you to choose from. What would you like? Venison, Beef, can I suggest our Chicken a la Sol? Cooked to a nice golden brown and a light cheese sauce that's just to die for."
To his left, a more frail and small woman sighs, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Yanuun, don't be so overbearing, let him/her look at the menu and decide for him/herself!" she complains a bit.
"Nonsense, Anyuun!" he tells his younger sister. "You need to be a little more outgoing," he scolds his sister playfully, turning a charming smile on you and saying, "a shy girl, but sweet, if only I can find her a husband. Ah, but that's not what you're here for, the food, the food!" he says with the excitement of a man who loves his work. "Come now, what can I get you?"