Midhaf

History And Backstory

Midhaf.HistoryAndBackstory History

Show minor edits - Show changes to output

October 28, 2008, at 07:07 PM by 24.34.18.148 -
Changed line 12 from:
the horrors (or treasures!) that sleep in those mountains proper? It
to:
the horrors (or [[Items | treasures]]!) that sleep in those mountains proper? It
October 28, 2008, at 07:06 PM by 24.34.18.148 -
Changed line 4 from:
the Firetip peaks reflect and glint like distant flames off the facets
to:
the [[Firetip Mountains | Firetip peaks]] reflect and glint like distant flames off the facets
October 27, 2008, at 10:05 PM by 192.168.0.101 -
Added lines 1-62:
From any point on the arid grand plains a traveler can spin a full
turn on a worn heel and see at each horizon hazy mountains reaching
into clouds. To the West, especially at sunset, the red minerals of
the Firetip peaks reflect and glint like distant flames off the facets
of the many peaks - polished and carved by generations of dwarves to
catch the light to greatest effect.

To the South and East stretch untamed ranges and unclaimed
territories. For all the centuries in memory, no clan has been mighty
enough to claim even the foothills of the untamed ranges as their own.
Even those foothills are roamed by trolls, ogres, giants - who knows
the horrors (or treasures!) that sleep in those mountains proper? It
would take a strong and capable bunch to penetrate the foothills - and
fools to try.

Far to the North, through the high and treacherous passes, past the
ice cliffs and crystal lakes, beyond the glacier walls and the strange
frozen forest lies, well, the rest of the world. Or so the old maps
say.

Centered amid the scrub and dust of the grand plains hunches a lone
settlement: Midhaf. Its date of origin long forgotten even to the
memory of your great grandfather's great grandfather. Midhaf is old.
Not old like the temporary or perishable eventually age. Old like
earth - a canvas for time to paint and repaint.

And centered in Midhaf is a shrine to Pelor. Though no recorded word
is known to say it, it is not difficult to assume Midhaf grew around
the shrine, a few shops and farms near the Clerics and guards. Though
now the two, the town and shrine, are one, unified by the isolation of
their setting, family lines of the shrine's caretakers now
indistinguishably mixed with those who perhaps settled its perimeter.

Midhaf spreads from the shrine outwards, shops and taverns, craftsmen.
There are not a thousand people that call Midhaf home but not so few
that you know them all. A makeshift wall defines the perimeter: in
some places earthern, some places a wooden palisade, some places just
a bit of rubble or a leaning post.

Such a paltry defense, this patch worn wall, a foreigner might wonder
why. Any resident of Midhaf would tell him (though none can remember
ever a visitor arriving to ask) of Vixxelcurisk, the great Brass Wyrm,
that watches over Midhaf and Pelor's shrine. From time to time
hobgoblins or others march from the untamed mountains towards the
farms and water of Midhaf. Ahh, how quickly warriors become lunch
when Vixxelcurisk stirs from the sun-baked plain!

Past the walls of Midhaf, the only construction on the grand plain is
the mighty dwarven built aqueduct, stretching like a perspective line
from Midhaf to the ice melt of the Firetips. Built by dwarves
centuries ago when Midhaf outgrew the well at Pelor's shrine, the
aqueduct delivers water to Midhaf's farms. Midhaf, in return, shares
its produce with the Dwarves. Rainfall on the plain is far too thin
for crops - the water is a lifeline and the dwarves make acceptable
neighbors.

And so it has always been, until...