Farthing Downs
The Farthing Downs wakes before sunrise beneath drifting fog and the smell of brewing grain. Farmers, stablehands and brewers move through the narrow lanes while dew still clings to the weeds growing between cracked stones. The district is one of the poorest in Blackstock, a sprawl of collapsing wooden homes and ancient clay foundations left from older generations of the city. Some buildings lean so heavily into one another that entire rows seem held upright through stubbornness alone.
Despite the poverty, Farthing Downs carries a rough kind of warmth absent from wealthier districts. Families share ovens and tools, neighbours repair roofs together after storms, and children race through fields and alleys while stray dogs follow close behind. The smell of sweet yeast from the breweries mixes with damp earth and smoke from cheap cookfires burning throughout the district. Life here is difficult, but people endure it collectively.
Threshman’s Walk and the older housing rows reveal just how old portions of the district truly are. Shutterless windows stare out over muddy lanes while abandoned clay walls crumble slowly beside occupied homes still fighting against collapse. The Chimehouse of Shoreez stands among the ruins like a fragile remnant of gentler days, its bells carrying softly over a district too exhausted to notice beauty most mornings.
Many of Blackstock’s workers come from Farthing Downs. They tend fields, brew ale, haul goods, and labour in districts wealthier citizens rarely step foot inside. The city depends heavily on them, though few beyond the Downs openly admit it.
At dawn, the Farthing Downs wake before the rest of the city. Farmers and brewers walk the dew-wet paths, their breath misting in the cool air as the smell of barley and sweet yeast drifts from the brewery halls. Children chase dogs through the stubble fields while the bells from the Bullrun Fields sound faintly from the hill. Incredibly derelict and poor district within the city.
Poorest of the districts with rundown buildings and shutterless windows. Clay bases still exist for most of the old district but a lot of the wooden frames have either collapsed or are leaning so far onto the next building that it's hard to tell where the final fulcrum rests.
The most grounded district, home to hardworking folk who keep Blackstock fed. Not great living conditions.
Despite the poverty, Farthing Downs carries a rough kind of warmth absent from wealthier districts. Families share ovens and tools, neighbours repair roofs together after storms, and children race through fields and alleys while stray dogs follow close behind. The smell of sweet yeast from the breweries mixes with damp earth and smoke from cheap cookfires burning throughout the district. Life here is difficult, but people endure it collectively.
Threshman’s Walk and the older housing rows reveal just how old portions of the district truly are. Shutterless windows stare out over muddy lanes while abandoned clay walls crumble slowly beside occupied homes still fighting against collapse. The Chimehouse of Shoreez stands among the ruins like a fragile remnant of gentler days, its bells carrying softly over a district too exhausted to notice beauty most mornings.
Many of Blackstock’s workers come from Farthing Downs. They tend fields, brew ale, haul goods, and labour in districts wealthier citizens rarely step foot inside. The city depends heavily on them, though few beyond the Downs openly admit it.
At dawn, the Farthing Downs wake before the rest of the city. Farmers and brewers walk the dew-wet paths, their breath misting in the cool air as the smell of barley and sweet yeast drifts from the brewery halls. Children chase dogs through the stubble fields while the bells from the Bullrun Fields sound faintly from the hill. Incredibly derelict and poor district within the city.
Poorest of the districts with rundown buildings and shutterless windows. Clay bases still exist for most of the old district but a lot of the wooden frames have either collapsed or are leaning so far onto the next building that it's hard to tell where the final fulcrum rests.
The most grounded district, home to hardworking folk who keep Blackstock fed. Not great living conditions.
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District
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