The pearl-pink sandy shores of Hep Monga provide an excellent view into the great blue seas in the early morning. Assuming of course that they can be found through the endless fields of crops and tall pale wheat the line nearly every inch of the country-side.
Here the sea air accounts for the healthy, full harvests of the south plains, and the long years that the locals spend in life. While visiting nobles and wandering adventurers would be hard pressed to find entertainment throughout the flat lands, the small farming communities possess all the necessities of a slower, more measured life.
Travelling across the great spans of crop-fields in Hep Monga, workers and locals can be seen outdoors for every hour that there is light, and even some before light ever touches the face of the earth. The people are hardworking and dedicated to the land they love so much.
Locals burst with pride, as every farming community maintains its own brew, from the smokey taste of the Hallow's Hops, to the soothing aroma of Bartlebee's Butterbeer, and the unforgettable spices in Saffire's Sweetbeer.
Annually there is a fishing contest where nobles and common-folk alike are free to partake in beer and festivities. Everything is provided for by the Nobility as the commoners are free this day of all work and other duties, excepting of course those employed by the nobility. Last year's winner was a commoner named Johnne from the town of Veraloe, with a swordfish of 42 lbs.
August 10, 2007 by Aiden
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