Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
So... basically the North is like Russia and the South is like... Italy?
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- Thread starter shadowz1995
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So... basically the North is like Russia and the South is like... Italy?
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
In some certain ways.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
archur
If you don't mind, I'm going to take a bit of liberty regarding the southern cities of FK. I can send you a draft of that particular section, if you want.
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
Reminds me that I'm still reading that general Medieval history book. Honestly, its as thick as fuck.
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
There's a section there about the history of Italy, the Holy Roman Empire, England, France...
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Better get to reading it.
Also, finally caught on to the Malazan series. Rather difficult, considering that the book starts, deliberately, in the middle of the storyline. Right in the midst of flesh and gore, for some reason, and characters are being introduced at breakneck speeds.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
What's the name again?
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
I can't read it at home. I only feel like reading when I'm in school. My apartment is cramped and there are almost no reading spaces here.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Up the darkened alleyway, approached a troika of men. Three men, and upon a closer view, just a frontman backed by two other men — discernable in that the two were different to the leader. To an everyday aristocrat, it was just a pedestrian routine, as ordinary as peasantry, but this wasn't rightly the case here. The alleyway wad a clear dead end, and this was De'ag, a notorious city. A city where everybody kept to themselves, weapons concealed, hands quivery. People don't mean to approach anyone out of curiosity here — they either mean business or trouble. Malivan knew that, but disquieting was the fact that assaults were a common day-to-day incident in De'ag, as ordinary as the chatter of birds. And the chatter of birds weren't going to be enough to drown out this assault.
Muggers, people getting mugged, were typical in the lower-half squalor of the fire kingdom's southern ports, where De'ag was. The city was made up of craggy lands, flush with cliffs riddled with narrow openings which lead to the main shoreline — sand, beige-white with a silvery tincture, and more morose sand. A dozen sandcrawlers here and there, reams of them swarming in the uncharted rocky canyons that flank the upper cities and the docks. The occasional explorer-zoologist made their way to the canyon, never to return — these days, mercenaries and locals don't even bother to accompany those stupid souls. De'ag made a living by its ports, the orc-made structures jutting out awkwardly from the blanched precipices, navigable by stratified floors which lead from the sea-soaring docks to the upper cities. The ambiance was soothing from afar, not tranquil but reminiscent of the earlier days of this world: the zig-zagged hymn of the shore-birds melding with the sound of the sea crashing against the rocky shores and stone bridges, and the chorus of sails fluttering and small boats clambering slowly through the emerald sea, and the echoing drawl of the sailors, and so on. Houses close to the shore stood on rock stilts, to evade the watery waves, and docks on longer, shaped stone ingots, all reinforced with conventional iron or stone. The upper cities were made up of sandstone buildings and stunted fortresses and outposts — some were forgotten and long abandoned, some weren't. From afar, it was a humble, ideal place. Not so much from up close.
The roads, blackened by a patina of ashen soot, mixed well with the few dozens of chapels and bounty offices interspersed throughout the city. The houses were made out of sandstone all right, reddish-ochre speckled with blacks and shades of grey. Surrounding the city of De'ag was a huge wall that separated it from its surrounding boroughs — in the instance the city is captured or besieged, and upon which instance, either of them, the gates would be closed. The humans, a majority in the city, here were either trooper-for-hires or officials, the orcs tasked with lording over the commoners and patrolling the streets, and most others make a living through working, sailing or fishing. In other words, most others were the commoners. Although Markas wasn't.
The bounty offices, which kept the notice boards and official papers regarding fugitive-hunting, were rather distinct in their appearance — neither did they succeed in appearing coy, which was initially a planned feature, nor did they intermix with the rest of the sand buildings. All metal, black and sallow, with peaked heads and intricately-crafted roofs that distinguish it from its fetid environs. Other than the simple yet ferric doorway, thick wood married with metal clamps, and the guards, there were no other forms of security. Though, ome of them, especially towards the docks, had fences — crude, spiked walls that went around the building and conjoined towards the front with the external gateway for a buckle.
While the orcs were stupid, admittedly, they were good with metals. Junk, but metal nonetheless.
The place sustained with the fleeting activity of its many docks and wharfs, ships coming in and out, harboring both notorious fugitives looking for amnesty and a second chance, and merchants looking for a good share of coins. A simple arrangement, which had succeeded only in making the fire kingdom rife with bounty hunters and subtle sorts of highway robbery. The bridges and docks persisted even under its bountiful weight, cramped and bursting with activity, with transports making way, minor merchants peddling, and the day watch ambling through.
As of now, there were more pressing matters. Not strange at all for a city like De'ag.
Muggers, people getting mugged, were typical in the lower-half squalor of the fire kingdom's southern ports, where De'ag was. The city was made up of craggy lands, flush with cliffs riddled with narrow openings which lead to the main shoreline — sand, beige-white with a silvery tincture, and more morose sand. A dozen sandcrawlers here and there, reams of them swarming in the uncharted rocky canyons that flank the upper cities and the docks. The occasional explorer-zoologist made their way to the canyon, never to return — these days, mercenaries and locals don't even bother to accompany those stupid souls. De'ag made a living by its ports, the orc-made structures jutting out awkwardly from the blanched precipices, navigable by stratified floors which lead from the sea-soaring docks to the upper cities. The ambiance was soothing from afar, not tranquil but reminiscent of the earlier days of this world: the zig-zagged hymn of the shore-birds melding with the sound of the sea crashing against the rocky shores and stone bridges, and the chorus of sails fluttering and small boats clambering slowly through the emerald sea, and the echoing drawl of the sailors, and so on. Houses close to the shore stood on rock stilts, to evade the watery waves, and docks on longer, shaped stone ingots, all reinforced with conventional iron or stone. The upper cities were made up of sandstone buildings and stunted fortresses and outposts — some were forgotten and long abandoned, some weren't. From afar, it was a humble, ideal place. Not so much from up close.
The roads, blackened by a patina of ashen soot, mixed well with the few dozens of chapels and bounty offices interspersed throughout the city. The houses were made out of sandstone all right, reddish-ochre speckled with blacks and shades of grey. Surrounding the city of De'ag was a huge wall that separated it from its surrounding boroughs — in the instance the city is captured or besieged, and upon which instance, either of them, the gates would be closed. The humans, a majority in the city, here were either trooper-for-hires or officials, the orcs tasked with lording over the commoners and patrolling the streets, and most others make a living through working, sailing or fishing. In other words, most others were the commoners. Although Markas wasn't.
The bounty offices, which kept the notice boards and official papers regarding fugitive-hunting, were rather distinct in their appearance — neither did they succeed in appearing coy, which was initially a planned feature, nor did they intermix with the rest of the sand buildings. All metal, black and sallow, with peaked heads and intricately-crafted roofs that distinguish it from its fetid environs. Other than the simple yet ferric doorway, thick wood married with metal clamps, and the guards, there were no other forms of security. Though, ome of them, especially towards the docks, had fences — crude, spiked walls that went around the building and conjoined towards the front with the external gateway for a buckle.
While the orcs were stupid, admittedly, they were good with metals. Junk, but metal nonetheless.
The place sustained with the fleeting activity of its many docks and wharfs, ships coming in and out, harboring both notorious fugitives looking for amnesty and a second chance, and merchants looking for a good share of coins. A simple arrangement, which had succeeded only in making the fire kingdom rife with bounty hunters and subtle sorts of highway robbery. The bridges and docks persisted even under its bountiful weight, cramped and bursting with activity, with transports making way, minor merchants peddling, and the day watch ambling through.
As of now, there were more pressing matters. Not strange at all for a city like De'ag.
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
Er, name of what?
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
What's teh nhame aghain?
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Of the book.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Wot? I think a book about two cities should be like, what, 10 or so pages?
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
Funny, mine has 500 pages. I must have the wrong book.
archur
watch for the flash
Alright, a map is coming soon, and the shoreline is to the north, along with the nearest kingdom being Dark. FK is at the bottom of the map, with a ocean to the east with WK on it's own little island. Not really little per se, but an island nonetheless.
Also! There is a human city named Redstone, strictly non-orks. Hope if that is of any help! Otherwise, this is a great imagery of the ramshackleness that is the orks as a whole.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
So, it's ok-ok?
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
I know, and that's why I was too intimidated to read it.
archur
watch for the flash
Yessireeee, I wus jus spouting info because I know you like it
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
That's why I haven't even started the series.
Malazan book of fallen is even bigger, ranging at about 11,000 or so.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
Its so fucking big, that I bet that if you rammed the entire book on someone's head his skull would break.
Historical Storyteller
Four Thousand Club
Eleph, the lord of the memes.
