House Sylvanfair Tower

The Tower is an annex for House Sylvanfair, one of the Co-operative Houses of Elanthia. It is located in the forest just outside the South Gate of Icemule Trace (lich ID #2494).

Icemule Trace, Forest

The air is still, heavy with the closeness of the spruce and fir trees. The movement of a bird or squirrel high above in the trees sends a cascade of snow from the upper branches down onto the path. You see a silver-rimed grey stone tower.
Obvious paths: north, south, west

Tower ~ Set back from the path, the imposing tower is sheltered from the elements by a dense thicket of needleleaf trees, their evergreen branches groaning under the weight of freshly fallen snow. A thin coating of silvery blue ice partially covers the exterior, dazzling the eye with its brilliance. The only hint of warmth in the wintry scene is the pale yellow light radiating from mullioned windows set high in the stone walls. By the entrance, a silver-cast plaque and some lacquered blue spruce needle wind chimes are nearly hidden by spruce branches.

Sylvanfair, Rime Hall

The heat radiating from a firepit in the middle of the vast hall scarcely reaches the grey stone walls, leaving them cold. Carved into the frosted surface is an ethereal forest of leaf-bare trees creating the image of perpetual winter in familiar deciduous groves. Pools of pale wax mar the tiled floor where tiered candles set in cast iron chandeliers overhead have been left to drip. Oaken benches circle the blazing fire with the added comfort of thick furs draped over their high backs. You also see a blue-grey slate tile blackboard, a dark heartwood chest, a large tapestry and some arched double doors leading out.

A log shifts in the glowing red embers of the firepit sending a wisp of pine-fragranced smoke up into the rafters.

A small grey wolf cub bounds into the room. Skidding to a halt in front of you, it lowers down onto its front paws and playfully growls, before disappearing behind a large tapestry.

The mouth-watering smell of roast meat wafts around the hall.

The faint sound of clattering dishes and mumbled curses comes from behind the tapestry.

The temperature of the air dips as an icy breeze sweeps through the hall causing the tapestry to billow slightly. Motes of silvery blue light dance across its surface, illuminating the sparkling whitened scene.

Soothing light, cast from the iron chandelier, glows softly, the merest hint of a wisp of smoke drifting along the flame's edges.

Firepit ~ Pine needles have been scattered over the pile of oak and applewood logs in the pit, adding their heady scent to the fragrant woodsmoke curling upwards to the rafters.  Steady flames lick at the glistening haunch of caribou skewered on a spit, the dripping fat causing the fire to sizzle from time to time.

Pine needles (GET)

Spit (TOUCH PULL)

Chandeliers (LIGHT EXTINGUISH) ~ Multi-tiered chandeliers of cast iron and weathered oak are suspended by long chains overhead.  Long arms of cast iron radiate from a wooden, spindle-shaped body, the golden undertones of the oak contrasting with the blackened metal.

Benches (GO SIT)

Tapestry (PONDER) ~ Woven on a high-warp loom, the jacquard tapestry features a massive oak captured in silver and blue silk thread.  Leaf-bare branches extend up towards the vaulted ceiling as if craving the warmth from the high-set candles.  Long since dead, the trunk of the tree has split to reveal an interior filled with magical life.  No longer occupied by elf or humankind, the fairyland of icicles within is now home to a colony of glittering snow sprites that dance among the lacy icework.

LORESONG

Light snowflakes begin to fall on the stark landscape and you feel the touch of frost caress your cheeks.  A full moon rises over the horizon exposing a winter wonderland, both beautiful and bright yet haunting in its solemnity.  Captivated by the illusions of light and shadow drifting across the scene, you notice a lone sprite on one of the tree branches, its gossamer wings shimmering in the moonlight.  With a tinkling laugh, it snaps its fingers and vanishes from sight, leaving you wondering if it was ever really there.


The sky is clear, a perfect uninterrupted blue dotted with twinkling stars.  Intricate patterns of ice float weightlessly downward, each flake swirling on the icy wind and alighting momentarily on your eyelashes.  Several silvery sprites fly out from the tree, pirouetting ecstatically in the cold night air in celebration of the perpetual winter.  As your voice fades, so do they, one-by-one darting back into the hollow of the tree.


The icicle-filled tree is illuminated by that cold, pale light only winter's sun can bring.  Fresh snowfall has blanketed the ground around it, like a fresh new page in a book waiting for the story to unfold.  Several silvery sprites flit into view, their delighted laughter a mere tinkling sound on the crisp cold air.  Dipping down in turn, they leave tiny glittering dots in the snow that slowly form into an intricate pattern before your eyes.  Peering closer to try and discern what it might be, your voice falters and the image darkens and fades away.


The tiny dots are still visible in the blanket of white snow around the tree but the silvery sprites have finished their glittering dance.  A vague shadow passes across your vision and you feel the gentle brush of feathery wings across your cheek as a snowy owl alights on one of the upper branches.  The sprites quickly disperse under his predatory gaze, retreating behind the labyrinth of icicles within the hollow trunk and you wonder if you had imagined the whole thing.

An ethereal snowflake drifts slowly downward, dissolving as it touches the large tapestry.

Behind the large tapestry you see a dimly lit archway.

Archway (GO) ~ Members only

Blackboard (NUDGE SCRATCH RUB WRITE)

Chest ~ trash receptacle

Doors (GO)

Sylvanfair, Gallery

A dimly lit gallery, framed with grey stone walls, houses a single cloth-covered trestle table. Hanging above are a series of gilt-framed paintings and hunting trophies, each festooned with evergreen boughs and spaced by candle-filled sconces. A decorative carpet runner covers most of the bare stone floor, leading from a swinging door marked "Buttery" at one end to a narrow spiral staircase at the other, with a solid ironwood door visible at the top.

An errant breeze stirs the air, filling your nostrils with the smell of fresh pine needles and smoky candle wax.

The candle flames stutter and hiss for a moment before resuming their steady burn.

Table ~ Draped with a fine linen cloth, the trestle table is set with silver-gilt cutlery and a rose-painted tea service.

On the trestle table you see a plump herb-stuffed mushroom, some chive and garlic potato pancakes, a bowl of peppery turnip soup, a jam-layered shortbread tartlet, a mug of hot dark chocolate, a glass of hot herbal tea and a shaved ice snowcone.

Paintings ~ Fresh-cut sprays of blue-grey spruce and silvery green cedar bedeck a gallery of gilt-framed portraits and landscapes, giving them both symmetry and context.  Each painting has been chosen for its relevance to the Great House of Sylvanfair, with portraits commemorating Chatelaines, Seneschals, and Chancellors through the ages.  Arboreal and pastoral landscapes are juxtaposed with cityscapes and depict oak groves, forest views, and cobbled streets lined with elegant residences.

Trophies ~ Mounted high above a series of gilt-framed paintings are a collection of trophies displayed to represent the success of the hunt.  From manticore tails to caribou antlers, each impressively ornamented beast catalogues the process of intellectual stalking, wild rampage, and ultimate kill through its skillful preservation and the presentation of the piece by a documented account of the pursuit on its accompanying plaque.

Sconces (LIGHT EXTINGUISH)

Runner ~ Handwoven from good quality wool, the antique runner features a sequence of large turtle medallions in emerald, sapphire, and silvery white hues.  Embodying a variety of influences, the border includes simple motifs of Tehiri origin as well as geometric Imperial and curvilinear Elven-inspired elements.  The rich-saturated colors and diversity of the design reflect the time-honored tradition of skilled carpet weavers to incorporate the flavors of the cities through which they traveled.

Sylvanfair, Buttery

Naturally cool and in close proximity to the Hall, the buttery serves as a convenient storage space and food preparation area. Barrels of wine and ale have been stacked against one wall and joints of meat and game hang from large iron hooks overhead. A small, unglazed window is set high into the stone wall to allow for ventilation and a glimpse at the spruce and fir trees beyond. You also see a heavy ironwood door and a large stone counter with your locker on it.

A flurry of light snow drifts through the window, caressing you with soft, glittering flakes.

Tinkling laughter heralds the arrival of a snow sprite through the high window. Flitting around your head for a moment, it snaps its fingers and vanishes.

A squirrel clambers onto the sill of the window and peers down at you with curiosity before scampering out of sight.

Counter ~ The slab of dark grey stone has been carved with various initials.

Sylvanfair, Bower

High in the watchtower, the bower's four mullioned windows face the cardinal directions and provide an unimpeded view of the surrounding forest and path below. Sparsely furnished, with only a fur-covered large featherbed and two storage chests, the stone-walled chamber is comfortable but lacks the lavish adornments and hospitality of the accommodation below. A basket of sticks sits next to a fireplace, over which hangs a silver gilt-framed mirror. You also see a solid ironwood door.

Glimmering motes of dust dance in the pale golden sunlight bathing the cold, bare, stone floor (DAY).

A snowy owl silently swoops past the windows, circling the tower and disappearing into the night (NIGHT).

The air grows still as a light snowfall briefly obscures your view through the windows.

The temperature of the air dips slightly as an icy breeze swirls around the chamber.

Featherbed ~ Draped in silvery grey wolverine pelts and plush snow leopard fur, the bed looks cozy and inviting to the weary traveller.  Plump goose feather pillows, sheathed in crisp white linen to match the sheets, have been stacked against an elaborately oak headboard that depicts a hunting scene in its large central panel.  Closer inspection of the intricate scrollwork around the border reveals lines of elven poetry etched in the curlicues.

On the large featherbed you see a plump goosefeather pillow and some crisp white linen sheets PULL PUSH).

Headboard (READ) ~ In the Elven language, it reads:

Where snow falls, nature listens,
Harken to its mysterious sound.
When the winds of winter blow,
Feel the stillness of a crisp night.
Watch the full moon rising,
Exposing a winter wonderland,
Both beautiful and bright.

Chests (lockable storage) ~ Two sturdy oak chests sit at the foot of the bed, each cornered in polished brass with gently rounded lids.  One appears to be open and contains a stack of leather-bound books, some neatly folded items of clothing, and a small assortment of weaponry. [a shiny brass key with a twisted shank]

Fireplace (unlit) ~ A black iron poker lays on a freshly swept hearth of dark grey stone, a broom of twigs nearby.

Sticks (GET) ~ Lined with cotton fabric, the woven wicker basket is filled with dry sticks and pieces of tree bark.

Mirror (PEER) ~ Rectangular in shape, the beveled glass is framed in brushed silver.  A dried forget-me-not has been tucked into one corner between the glass and frame.

Sylvanfair, Crypt

A twisting staircase leads down into a stone-built underground chamber with a low, barrel-vaulted ceiling. A series of pillars are paired two-by-two down its long, narrow length between which stand statues of Arkati and sepulchers of long-forgotten adventurers. At the far end of the crypt is a deep pool sunk into the bare stone floor. Candles set into an iron chandelier overhead cast a dim light through the steamy haze, illuminating a pair of oak benches and footlockers nearby. You also see a box of assorted oils and a stack of clean towels.

Bubbles rise to the surface of a deep pool, emitting the faintest smell of sulphur.

Burning brightly, an inexplicable rush of cerulean and viridian flame intermixes with the already present reds and oranges of the iron chandelier.

Footfalls above echoes down the twisting staircase, filling the far corners of the crypt.

Statues ~ Carved from either ivory alabaster or near-black granite, each statue represents an adventurer written in tales from a bygone era, or an Arkati of significance to the Great House of Sylvanfair.  Although most of the effigies are paired, each facing its counterpart across the low-vaulted chamber, the final statue stands apart as a solitary robed figure contemplating the water held in its cupped hands.

Pool ~ An underground hot spring feeds the large pool keeping the mineral-rich water at a consistent temperature.  Wisps of steam rise from surface, creating a humid miasma that lingers at the far end of the chamber.

Water (LOOK GET TOUCH TAP KISS KICK ATTACK PUNCH EAT DRINK) ~ The warm water is crystal clear and inviting.

Chandelier (LIGHT EXTINGUISH) ~ Thick with candle wax, the chandelier is a tangle of wrought iron branches.

Bench (GO SIT) ~ A forgotten book lies atop one of the oaken benches, the seat worn smooth from use.

Footlocker (Lockable storage) ~ Fashioned from dark heartwood, the footlocker is painted with an image of a majestic tree in shades of black and grey.  A keyhole is disguised as a knot on the trunk of the tree. [a shiny brass key with a twisted shank]

Box (GET)

Towels (GET RUB PULL FOLD) ~ Fresh cotton towels are arranged in a stack, some folded more neatly than others.  Crisp and white, the towels are embroidered with the Sylvanfair crest in silver thread.