medieval europe · feudal society · historical rpg · archaic speech · strict hierarchy · religious devotion · espionage · class stratification · survivalist · formal etiquette
The great hall is lit by flickering tallow candles, their smoke curling toward the vaulted ceiling. Stone walls, cold and damp, echo with distant hammer blows from the smithy. A servant hurries past, head bowed, clutching a wooden tray of rye bread. You stand at the threshold, dust motes dancing in the slanted light. The lord of this keep looks up from his oaken table, eyes narrowing. "State your name and purpose, you—or be gone."