Originally called Ily Moor, the people of Shaman began to refer to it as ‘Dragonbone Moor’ after Tsi grounded Gwythr’s rock-dragon here. The now lifeless rock-dragon can be seen near the border of the territory, crouched on the earth with its wings outstretched. The rambling planes and tors stretch for as far as the eye can see and are home to a great number of hardy animals, making this an excellent hunting territory, and the snaking River Grace provides water to inhabitants. Cascade Falls, Hippogriff Falls, Prince Falls and Lake Baudelaire can be found at various points along the river’s path. A small town was established on the edge of Lake Baudelaire after the great flood receded.
residents
Nanuqai
Mohana
Russell
Draco
Lachlan
Kasdeya
Kaala
Santiago
Kane
employees
Lachlan, Business Proprietor
Kasdeya, Business Proprietor
Anapa, Mortician
Kaala, Wisewoman
Santiago P.I. & Bounty Hunter
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located here
Public Stables: For a small fee, anyone can hire or lease a horse or pony at the stables here. The moor makes great hacking territory.
Baudelaire Boathouse: For a small fee, anyone can hire a boat, canoe or kayak to take out onto the lake.
The Collection: The elusive being known only as "The Collector" hoards his great treasure trove here. He'll purchase any collectable or expensive item.
Murray's: Murray buys up items acquired by questionable means and sells them for exorbitant prices in his shop. He specialises in rare items.
Mabel's Voodoo Shoppe: Mabel, a gentle but eccentric old lady, runs a shop which sells all sorts of quirky and unusual things.
The Belladonna: A bar and brothel owned and managed by the alluring Kasdaya. It hasn't been open long, but has already acquired something of a reputation.
White Griffin Brewery & Distillery: Owned by Lachlan, the White Griffin is responsible some of the best beer and liquor in Shaman. Its also the perfect front for its master's shadier business ventures.
Rock Dragon Funeral Services: A mortuary and crematorium can be found on the outskirts of the town, near the cemetery.
Santiago's Office: the unmarked base of Santiago's private detective/bounty agency. He relies on word-of-mouth for business and is famous for his discretion.
Cemetery: An expanse of the moor has been converted into a gated cemetery. Ordinary families have simple graves of the family's design; richer families have their own private crypts.
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She'll be able to smell the chaos before she sees it.
The air in the apartment staircase is cloying and rank with the sticky-black scent of burnt spice and over caramelized sugar. A desperate and experimentally undertone of kitchen fire and air freshener are somewhere in the bass note.
If the smell doesn't overwhelm and alarm her, the Christmas lights blinking merrily from every flat (and vertical) surface of the flat are sure to do the job. In every shade of white imaginable and several shades of rainbow, they wind and tangle their way like happy invasive vines, choking out all functional living space in a festive python hug.
Kane spins in the epicenter of the largest knot when the door slams behind her. Though his hair is inexplicable and his smile just a touch too manic, the green of his eyes light at the sight of her and put every twinkling bulb to shame.
"Oh good, you're here!" he breathes, abandoning his wad of lights to nimbly skip through the maze of decorations strewn all over their living room. "I need you."
It takes him longer than normal to reach the door, small mountains of garland and ornaments blocking any kind of direct path. On the half-buried couch, Fox glares up from where she's chewing on the strings that strap antique silver sleigh bells to her feet, shooting daggers with her eyes as he bounces past.
He is audibly jingling with every move.
He plants himself proudly before Tovah, adjusting his headdress and giving his whole torso a shimmy.
"Eh?" Kane nods, gesturing down the length of his body. "Whadya think?" He thumbs the shiny tinsel suspenders and lets them snap smartly back against his chest.
He doesn't wait for a comment on his appearance. He's already waving her into the holly jolly disarray, gathering up her hand when she takes too long to join him. "Check it out!" he says in explanation, tugging her to his side as he picks his way back through the mounds of things. "This old dude I know was obsessed with humans and their traditions. He ended up collecting a bunch of stuff through the years. Like, rooms of this shit. And after he died, he said I could have it."
He leads her deeper into the glittering labyrinth, damn near toppling them both to the floor more than once in his excitement.
He prattles on, "And I'm really glad you're home cause human 'Kris mess' is ####ing wild. It's like the inventors of the holiday were on a huge acid trip the whole time. I can figure out the obvious stuff, like lights and stuff. And I read the recipe on how to make a 'snicker-dude-el'... don't worry, the fire didn't spread past the dish towels. But a bunch of this stuff, I have no idea what it's for or why it's happening. I was hoping you could explain it to me. Since you've got all the human experience between the two of us."
Kane drops her hand when they're crammed together far enough into the thick of the fray. He gestures to the sad and confused looking oak sapling drowning in lights in the corner. It's velvety broad leaves struggling to hold the magnitude of bulbs, dipping precariously under the weight of them.
"Like this. Bringing a tree inside out of its natural habitat, but giving it a shiny outfit of stars and glass so it doesn't look like it's dying? To celebrate a birthday party? ####ing wild. And a little bit mean. To the tree. Not the god baby...I guess a sparkly tree is as good a present as any."
He bends down to reach into the nearest pile of clutter, bringing an item back up with him and holding out a squat plush toy for her inspection.
"And what's the deal with this Santa dude? Is he good? Is he a criminal? Is he just a rogue time manipulator with a hero complex and red fur fetish?"