Open Chronicles The Village of Marrowa

[Teshara Elvin Cardinal]

Very little of great importance ever happened in Marrowa village, which is why many people chose this village to settle down.
A simple village with a simple community and simple aspirations.
Far enough away from Elbion to be secluded, close enough to have sufficient traffic and protection of merchants, adventurers and travelers passing through.

Though mostly private and secluded this village is a strong farming community ranging from animal products to crops and other harvested goods.
It sits in the shadows of the Serete Mountains, the mysteries of which attract monster hunters and adventurers alike. The few mines they have provide further trade and industrial opportunities.

Marrowa is a very fast growing village. In spite of its proximity to the monster haunted mountains it's ideally situated to provide nearly every need for new families and settlers to move in and have a promising future.

The Lord of Marrowa Village is not a bad man, but he generally leaves the people of Marrowa to their own devices while he lives in Elbion collecting the levies from the generously low taxes.
In return for the taxes he makes sure to send regular patrols to keep everyone safe, otherwise the village lives with near complete independence.

Winter is coming which means the harvest festival is approaching, spirits are high while friends, family and guests look forward to an amazing event of fellowship and good food.

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It was in this calm narrative that Teshara was born. His father was a former mercenary turned farmer, enjoying the relative safety and privacy of the secluded village community where he married and settled down to raise a family.
Teshara was raised with an older sister and he and her grew up among the other children of the village. His childhood was spent gallivanting in the woods, butting heads with his sister, and having a good life among his peers.

Now as a man he works the family farm with his father, and they have a good haul to contribute to the festival this year. Everyone was gathering in the common area where food and treats and activities were being prepared for the evenings celebration. Teshara and his father pulled up in their wagon and began offloading a healthy harvest of corn to be added to the communal stores.

Spoiler: OOC

Nearly any role in this community is available and it's assumed that everyone is familiar with everyone unless otherwise stated. Having personal or even familial connections with others is encouraged within the bounds of permissions asked and given.

This thread explores the beginning stages of "The Heroes Journey", before your character goes galivanting around with godlike powers. So it can be assumed that things will not stay peaceful for very long, take time to allow yourselves to enjoy the little time they have left as simple folk.

 

[Sven Deepbarrel]

"Oi! Get off your Elf-thin backsides and back ta work, you lollygaggers!" Sven bellowed from the cellar stairs of the King of Cups Inn. His staff laughed and shook their heads, because not a one were anything close to Elf-thin or lollygaggers, but were frantically rushing around in preparation for the festival. The kitchens belched as much cook-smoke as any forge of the great Dwarf-halls as pastries and pies were baked, more meats than Sven could manage to count roasted on spits over fires, and he guessed there were more loaves of nutbread than there were people in the village.

Sven himself stomped up the stairs from the cellar into the kitchen, two massive beer-barrels hoisted over his shoulder, each one of them larger than himself. Yet the stout Dwarf hardly seemed to notice the weight as he carefully lowered himself closer to the ground until he could tip them up. There were eight others there already and he brushed his hands. "Four more should do it, I reckon."

He nodded stoutly in approval and them tromped back down the stairwell into the cellar that stretched beneath the entirety of the inn, built entirely of Dwarf-wrought stone and filled with foods hanging from the ceiling and barrels of beer, mead, wine, and more along one end of the wall, where an underground stream ran through a trough carved in the floor to keep them chilled. He hefted two of a different blend and trudged back up the stairs, just barely beginning to breathe hard as he deposited them into the kitchen, where four human men heft them onto a cart, one at a time.

Sven donned his festive vest and apron, tying the straps behind him as he made his way into the common room, where the front doors had been propped open and a stream of foods were making their way out of the inn into the village common outside.