[h2]Soprano, 3 weeks hence (same time as Mezzo)[/h2]

Soprano was quite possibly the secondary capitol of Treblea.  People danced in the hard-packed dirt and grassy streets with a gaiety and wild abandon that few cities kept after their long trek across the land to get away from that old empire.  

Near the center of this quaint, gay, little town sat an old man smoking a pipe, chatting on the front porch with two bards from faraway lands.  "Back in my days! This is what our land was all about!" the man saidin a gravelly voice full of life despite his age.  "So many of our fair towns have slowly begun to forget that life is all about fun and enjoyment rather than developin'!"  The strangers, a man and a woman dressed in odd, garish regalia that looked as if they were trying to be minstrels but just didn't quite know the fashion yet, sat by sipping on Treblean ale....which was not one of the land's strongest staples as wheat and other products that could be fermented tended to quickly go stale and turn out very very bitter after said fermentation.  

The strangers casually continued to ask the old man for stories and he was happy to oblige as all three of them gazed out onto the main thoroughfare of town that was revelers dancing to music, revelers playing their own instruments - some of which were incredibly modified in a DIY style that left onlookers wondering how that instrument was even played anymore - and some revelers who played instruments AND danced at the same time.  All in all, to an outsider, when the music reached a crescendo, it seemed like a cacophony; but when the music was at a normal, if frenetic, pace, then it was on the whole quite beautiful sounding....if you had the tolerance for it that is.  
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[h2]Note, 4 weeks later[/h2]

It would have taken representatives from another nation longer to reach the Treblean capital due to its tucked away locale between all seven of its townhills.  Plus, Note itself was located on a larger hill that was surrounded by a depression in the land formed by being surrounded by seven hills on the outer ring.  In turn, the Trebleans did not focus on roads that were straight and orderly.  Their road systems tended to follow the curvature of the hills, sometimes deviating off into copses of dense brush and sparse few but friendly, bright deciduous trees (far unlike the dark and foreboding pines that surrounded the outskirts of the nation) where the road builders might have stopped for a break, or even to, um, frolic. 

Some outside nations might consider the Treblean way of life savage in quite a few of the seven surrounding outlier towns, Mezzo and the almost barbaric Castrato leaping forefront into their minds.  However, Note - or Notea as a teeny-tiny faction had stuck with calling it - was a burgeoning center of "civilization" that at least had the most potential for development of any of the cities.  It being the largest, and most safely ensconced, Note's citizens had - quite musically - built a wall, if you can call the hodgepodge of tarnished bronze, packed dirt and mud, and plenty of wood a proper wall.  At least the Treblean builders had had the good sense to place the wood at the base and under the wall to discourage digging under it.  Then, they placed the dirt and mud over that, and finished by sticking bronze into the mud on top, creating a vast, odd-looking structure that still somewhat had order in the midst of chaos.  

If you were a traveling diplomat, religious cleric, minstrel, spy, or the like, you would likely find yourself in one of Note's three tavern inns eventually; the Bleeding Ear (low quality), the Lovely Lyre (middling quality), or the one where most of Note's important people of note tended to frequent, the Climactic Chorus (actually has running water that is a very closely guarded secret by the management considering the scarcity of fresh water in such a land-locked nation).  

[@Letter Bee]



[color=000000]((Oh hey, 500 posts! O_o))[/color]