Tuesday teaser, a bit of architecture:
The outer walls of Dun Mordhawk keep rise out of the steep sides of the jagged rock, curving to present as little flat surface as possible to outward attack. The stones that make up these walls are closely fitted and polished slick, even after centuries they show little sign of wear and no moss grows upon them; a sure sign of magic. Intricate machicolations line the parapet, providing an easy way of attacking enemies trying to attack the base of the wall and some defence against flying foes. Strong towers, round and squat provided many angles from which defenders can safely fire against any assaulting force.
The main gate is guarded by a fortified bastion cunningly built to slow down an attacking army but provide little cover against attacks from the main walls should it be taken. A thick drawbridge runs between the bastion and the main gate, made of rune-carved iron-wood beams stout enough to withstand considerable damage. The ditch under the drawbridge is an extension of the rocky hillside; and when the bridge is closed it gives the impression that Dun Mordhawk is a rocky island amid floating amidst surrounding hills. A heavy portcullis and a long entrance-way covered with convenient murder-holes for defending archers, gunners, and spearmen await any enemy strong enough to overcome the bridge.
The newest addition to the fortress, a large short barreled elemental flame cannon, waits to greet any who penetrate the courtyard. It is the type of weapon that destroys formations, not fortifications.
This is a machicolation:
Here’s part of an unusual fight scene. I have to mix it up a bit to keep the action interesting.
The rules for the match were simple. Gavin was meant to find his foes and defeat them. They would, in turn, be hunting him. The only difference between this and a regular match was the environment and the added uncertainty of not knowing what enemies he faced, how many there were, and how they were coming at him.
The trumpets sounded. Within a heartbeat the roof of the maze above him became translucent to anyone looking up from below, obscuring Gavin’s view of the audience. He could still hear muffled sounds and see vague shadows but no details beyond these. He snapped the traditional salute at the crowd nonetheless, confident that while he could not see them they could certainly see him.
As he stepped further into the maze, his footfalls cushioned by the deep moss. He noticed a mist start to form low to the ground. He doubted it would rise high enough to obscure the action but it would certainly make it hard to see footprints in the moss or a small, crouching creature. A nervous tingle caressed his spine at the thought.