Editing Warrick (section)

==Georgraphy==
The architecture in Warrick is eerie; quaint, but too homogeneous, a soulless mockery of a village.<ref name=10.7e1>
The Baron Richmond had retired to Warrick after the fighting in Lugh.  Named after his family’s territory overseas, the city was small, contained, and existed at his behest.  It was a place I’d never been, and I’d never known anyone from the city.  I’d heard rumors, however.  Richmond House was on the outskirts of the town, and with that one detail, it was easy to give the rumors some merit.  Monsters lived here, of the type that resembled humans and of the type that didn’t.<br><br>

The houses and buildings were new, but the style was old.  The houses were riddled with details, with highlights of quality, pleasant touches and signs that people had attempted to make themselves at home here, but in other ways, I felt as though it was too restrained, too ‘safe’.  There was a lack of authenticity that pervaded everything.  It was early in the morning, and there were far too few people around – a twentieth of what I’d seen in Radham, the morning I’d left to visit Craig.  It was considerably earlier, true, but even with that in mind, a mere ''twentieth''?<br><br>

The houses, now that I paid closer attention, were individually different, but it was a ''posed'' sort of difference, as if a singular designer had decided that ''this'' house needed a porch, and that house needed a fancy chimney, and the next house couldn’t have either because it would be too similar…  Yet there was a signal that something was wrong or odd in how that similarity had been avoided, the angles the houses had been placed at, and the palette chosen.<br><br>

I thought of it as a singular designer because the palette and the suite of options seemed so lacking in imagination or breadth.  Either the designer had been working with a very limited set of options, or their sense for design was a limited one.  Alone, given one house or three houses, it would have made for beautiful work.  Held to the sword and told to set the standard for a ''city''?  It made for a city without enough soul to go around.  Every construction a variation on the same theme, layered with snow. - [https://twigserial.wordpress.com/2016/04/05 Excerpt] from [[In Sheep’s Clothing 10.7]]</ref><ref>This was a stitched city.  The aesthetics of the individual pieces were of an older sort, the formation of it all relatively new.  It was dead and lifeless, still, the overall system worked, but it was forced, motivated by something I didn’t yet understand.  There was no <em>will</em> here, either.  The Crown had this place fully in its grip. - [https://twigserial.wordpress.com/2016/04/09 Excerpt] from [[In Sheep’s Clothing 10.8]]</ref><ref>We entered the city center as a quintet: two Lambs, two aristocrats, and a man turned monster.  The layout of the town made this the space where festivals would be held, if Warrick was the sort of place to hold festivals.  If Warrick had farmer’s markets, where everyone gathered to sell produce and trade goods from the professional to the homespun, then this was where the people would set up their stalls.  It would be where friendships were made and rekindled, where gossip was exchanged and conversations were had.  But Warrick wasn’t that sort of city.<br><br>No, the heart of this city didn’t beat.  It, like the Baron Richmond’s church, was symbolic, and it was a symbol designed to be false and discouraging. - [https://twigserial.wordpress.com/2016/04/26 Excerpt] from [[In Sheep’s Clothing 10.13]]</ref><ref>There were so many people, and it was getting increasingly clear that this wasn’t a good battlefield, be it for the overt attack or the subtle one.  The street was level, all stone and the stone-gripping wood, with mortar where the fast-growing wood hadn’t extended far enough.  A town hall, a smaller church, and several large houses blocked in the area, which formed something of a plaza, capable of holding perhaps a thousand people, if I had to guess.  If and when the population here exceeded capacity, the guards that stood between the buildings at the plaza’s edge could move further down the streets, increasing the number by two hundred or five hundred people.  Anything more than that, and I suspected that holes would appear in security, with too many access points to cover.<br><br>A third of the way down the plaza, pale stone had been laid out in some shallow, long steps, leading up to a raised section.  Two-thirds of the way down, the steps and raised portion reoccurred, with a stage overlooking the entire affair, and a fountain behind that stage, the statues added a kind of presence to it and framed it.  A soldier, a doctor, and what I assumed to be an aristocrat, all in modern Crown style.<br><br>By no accident, I was guessing, the construction of the stage had passing resemblance to a hangman’s gallows.  It was fancier, with more trim and style to it and carvings etched into the wood, but the breadth of it and the overall dimensions were evocative. - [https://twigserial.wordpress.com/2016/04/26 Excerpt] from [[In Sheep’s Clothing 10.13]]</ref>

It's church is a trap, an abattoir and a farce. All showing the Baron's power and madness.