Airs of Burgundy

ID: 145863

A city out of time and place.

Airs of Burgundy is a Randomizer quality.

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Levels

	Airs of Burgundy
1 - 4	The belfry's great bell tolls, its song taken up by the rest of the city's clappers.
5 - 8	A Tapestry-Moth flaps overheard, flight turning its images of heroism into a many-coloured blur.
9 - 12	A black barge drifts past. The dead and dying, ready for transport to the Sous.
13 - 16	A shriek, cut off by a splash. The canal claims another.
17 - 20	Snatches of hymn, carried on the air.
21 - 24	A horn-call from the western gate. A hunting party returns from the Miser-Roads.
25 - 28	Banners fly from roof and parapet. The Burgundian coat-of-arms cracks in the breeze like a whip.
29 - 32	A raven flies past, twisting mid-air as it exits the city's inversion.
33 - 36	Candles dance behind stained glass, spilling rainbow colours onto the dirt and cobble.
37 - 40	Sparks shoot into the air, and die before hitting the ground. You pass the open forge of a smithery.
41 - 44	A clank and scrape from a wall above. A guardsman shifts: leather; plate; pike.
45 - 48	The smoke here has a thick and acrid aroma – burning peat.
49 - 52	A pair of hands emerge outstretched from the shadows. A beggar, almost invisible in the murk.
53 - 56	You are arrested by the smell of roasting meat. A nearby keep prepares for a feast of vanity.
57 - 60	Two boatmen yell curses at each other. Pedestrians jeer back from the riverside.
61 - 64	The languages bleed into each other, overlapping and tangling: Dutch, English, French, German, Italian, more...
65 - 68	You look up, and see the Neath arrayed below. London is but a collection of coal-fire stars.
69 - 72	You pass a garden – anemic hedgerows propped up with native flora. Giggles and rustling emerge from within.
73 - 76	Bloodied knuckles and minor disagreements. A minor fight between guildsmen erupts onto the street.
77 - 80	Look up and to the south. Do you see the distant light? Here, Stone is more like a star.
81 - 84	The stained glass here is smashed, 'repaired' by gossamer spider-threads. Something within scuttles.
85 - 88	Hoots from the wilds to the east of the city. The populace speak of apes.
89 - 92	Market days are a riot of sound and colour. The streets squeeze with buyers and the bought.
93 - 96	Shouts from the crowd. The entourage of a minor baron clears a path for their master.
97 - 100	A moan. A man sags, held up by the bonds of the stocks. By and large, people ignore him.