Horn Barrow, a town hidden from the dual watch of the sun and the moon by the near-endless snowstorm plaguing its skies no matter the season. Built atop a seemingly endless underground maze of ruins (which have yielded the primary export) that seem to predate even Celestia's memory, and few books seem to mention more than the basic fact that these ruins must exist. The settlement has found itself with more than a few souls with nothing to lose, everything to gain, both, or neither. Those who have found within themselves the madness and fearlessness to enter those ancient halls often return with trinkets and precious metals left behind by those who built them, which the merchants of Horn Barrow can sell to support the town. Some come back with powerful treasures, artifacts covered in strings and holes cut out of the crystal itself, like instruments for music. Others do not come back at all. Memorials to them, paper boats with a single ancient coin on deck, can be seen floating down the tributary at night. Some say that perfect, shining glass tributary from the mountains is the only true way to leave the Barrow.
Despite the town's strange geography, many ponies there do not even attempt to search the ruins. It's too dangerous, after all, and they all have lives up over the surface. The town thrives off of its solitude, but the only type of alone most ponies can ever be is alone together. The citizenry can sometimes seem as cold as the snow-covered earth, but in this town of sixty-three each knows all sixty-two others by name, only bothering to forget those who they know will not stay. Most can be at The Wheelmule Inn from time to time, sharing stories and troubles and drinks with each other, including those just passing through on their way to the adventures Horn Barrow holds Others... well, a town shaded from the light of Celestia's mark becomes haven for those who find it far colder than the frost they've chosen instead... or those that find it more dangerous than the deepest levels of the ruins below.
At least, this is what you've heard. Snippets of tales and rumours as you've prepared your leave, told to warn or to help you along by friends and colleagues when you explained to them exactly where you were meaning to go. Or perhaps they were to be found in the books, journals and collections of notes that travel out on the train that sits in front of you now, written by the more scientific minds searching through the rubble and ruin. Either way, it could all perhaps be hearsay, and the train looks normal enough. You check your bags, and step aboard. Whatever you're looking for, be it shade, solitude, gold, glory, adventure, opportunity, companions, or whores, you're certain to find all of those... and perhaps something far more, and far more dangerous.
Welcome to Horn Barrow!
CS Guidelines:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
As always, check your sheet with the DM first for any necessary changes before assuming everything is correct.
WARNING: As you might have gathered by the lack of rules, this RP is mostly oriented around mutual arbitration. Essentially, there are no concrete rules, only common sense and the honour system. The most concrete rule is that if you bend the rules too far you will be warned, then warned, then removed. I apologize for this.
