Late Immanis, 14 PF
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The house was situated on leeward side of a bluff on a bit of acreage, near the very top of Fang Horn Drop. Unlike most of the structures in Fang Horn, there was no brick work to the place. Instead, the cottage was made of mortared cobbles in a charming country style that seemed warm and inviting. The entire place was fenced with plain well-sanded and darkly stained rails, with a gate opening out onto Raintree Lane. A stone pathway lead to the house, and around to the back. Roses littered the front of the house, some climbing well into the stonework, shading the large covered front deck with its sprawling iron table and comfortable chairs.
Around back, an enormous Master's Circle formed of sand is set up out past a large open deck, and a smaller screened porch that contains a small jewelry forge. Past that, two enormous weeping willow trees grew. Beneath their protective bows, a camp was set up consisting of a large comfortable tent and a fire pit with a pair of chairs around it. On the far side of the property, a partially rebuilt barn was being restored. The whole of the deck out back overlooked the drop and the sea beyond. It too was littered with furniture, both comfortable and well worn.
Inside the cottage, there are three main rooms, though the third and by far the largest is divided by a double-sided hearth that separates a great room from a kitchen dining area. An overly large master bedroom fills the southwest side of the house. It has its own hearth. Beyond that, to the northwest is a small study/workshop off the kitchen with a separate door leading out to a screened porch where a small stone forge has been built to work on jewelry projects while Viskyia is at home.
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The girl sighed and gave a resigned smile, her pace fast enough that there was clearly purpose to her trip, yet slow enough that she would not appear improper to the passers-by. Fang Horn Drop was interesting from an architectural standpoint, though the half-elf has other things to do today than stop and look at the buildings. While her shallow sword wound halfway between her neck and shoulder was well on its way toward healing, being little more than a scratch, her knee still ached a little from the kick she had taken last cycle - which was really the reason why she had decided the time had come to honor her drunk promise to Viskyia.
She had almost died... again. And she had lost a friend in the process, her mentor in the way of the sword. She could not help but think about it every time she looked at the umbrella in her hands. She was wearing the silk dress that Vis had bought for her at Nexus Fine Clothes, though she had brought a change of less feminine clothing with her, knowing that the nature of this visit would require more freedom of movement. She also had something to tie her hair up with, knowing at least that in these forms of hand-to-hand combat offering the enemy such an easy grappling point was ill-advised.
Amy walked up to the gates of Viskyia's residence, and if she found them open she would follow the pathway and reach the house, looking around for any signs of her friend's presence. It was a beautiful house in her eyes, and she had to fight back a slight spasm of envy that soon turned into admiration, for Vis had earned all of this through her own actions. The witch had never seen her in action practicing her martial art, so she had no idea what it was about. As long as she didn't have to pick up chairs and smash them on someone's head, she figured, everything would be just fine.