What was once a sleepy little village on the path to Lyranthul Kalan over the last 7-10 years has become a staging area for the military patrols moving through the mountains. Approaching from the west or south it seems to be a typical town. Farms begin to appear about 2 miles out of the town proper, a low mostly ceremonial city wall is passed, and a bustling, if somewhat subdued community is to be experienced. From the east is another story entirely. A fortified outpost with barracks has been constructed on the eastern edge of town by the waterfalls which give the city its' and which border the only path through the mountains. They are well fortified and anyone traveling from the mountains must pass to gain entrance to Ildonia proper. The town is cleaner than most largely due to military discpline.
Located in the north and central section is one of the most striking buildings in town: The temple of Erythnul. It is made of stone and red colored mortar. the walls seem to drip with blood to observers and screams can be occasionally heard emanating from inside..
Out past the barracks and off, but in sight of the path into the mountains is the Monks of the Mountain Monastery.
About 300 yards from the eastern edge of town is a fully fortified and prepared military outpost.
Braxtor Keep sits atop a steep hill about a half mile north of town. A road from town leads to this keep. The front gates are enormous and are paitned with the Braxtor crest. This is where Baron Braxtor, who walked into town 8 years ago and simply announced that he was here to run things, makes his home.
Lodging can be had at several locations, but the most poplular are either the Sequester, a well appointed 2 story inn with a small kitchen but no alcohol which generally allows for higher end clientele who prefer a quieter experience or The Axe and Anvil, a Dwarvish run tavern and inn.
Gimble and Boeler hail from Lidralen and came from the west through the length of Ildonia. They traveled mostly on the military patrolled roads but, to avoid unnecessary trouble, detoured around the capital of Carik. They passed a number of small towns, the inhabitants of which all seemed to live fearful lives. Despite passing several military patrols, the two friends managed to stay out of trouble. Upon entering Barren Falls (see description a few posts ago) in the evening they were pleased to find a somewhat lighter atmosphere, though still foreboding. After asking for direction, they were found lodging at The Leisurely Lion, a Mid-level inn with a tiny bar run by a halfling who calls himself Tryme. He is a cheery fellow, especially for this country, and the evening passes well.
Xanros and Isnor, friends whose unlikely relationship was forged in the Redcast mountains east of Ildonia also entered town last evening. Passing through the military outpost was very easy for Isnor, but uncomfortable for Xanros as elves are not appreciated in the least. When passing through you note that this is a fully fortified and prepared outpost about 300 yards from the east of town. You observe 4 catapults at the ready and archers on alert. Inside the outpost is an open area with several outbuildings and a stables with about 50 horses. While you are passing through, you notice several bulletins posted, some offering rewards for completion of various tasks, some extolling future entertainment. Most you do not have time to read as you are hurried through, but one catches your eye. It contains a large headline that has a picture of a massive humanoid wearing breeches and little more and reads: "Win your chance at fame and glory...or die a gruesome death at the hands of our own KINLESS!!! 2000 GP to the first who can best Kinless in hand to hand combat." Smaller print at the bottom reads "Next bout at fortnight's end".
The two friends then proceed into town down the main road, pass Breska's Supply Emporium, and are are greeted with the welcoming sight of the Axe and Anvil on their left. The sign out front is made of polished steel and has a brightly painted picture of an axe and anvil together and the name in Dwarvish script. The double door entrance leads to the common room of the tavern. Entering to find lodging the two see quickly that this is one of the hot spots in town for non military folk. On one end is a common sleeping room with a raised up section that is heated when necessary and (mostly) bug free in the center and also a series of stalls about the size of small prison cells without doors but with a mat in each. On the other end of this large building are private rooms. This seems to to be a high quality establishment, but the sort of place where deals can get done. You met the proprieter of the establishment, a muscular Dwarf who goes by the name of Krellish. He seems rather a pessimist but welcomes the business as you request a private room. He has a distinctive scar across his forehead that you learn during dinner was left when an axe pierced his helm and forced his retirement some years ago. His rates and ale are both good and the evening passes uneventfully.
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