Boundary
The Cemetery that Morrigan calls home is quite extensive, and very old. It sits deep within a forest, several miles away from a human village that has been there near as long as the forest it seems. The area enjoys rich summers full of life and lush vegetation and healthy trees, and harsh winters that have snow piling up in hours time and sending everything into an icy sleep.
The cemetery was built when the village was- and has sat in those woods for centuries now. It is an ancient place that has seen too many winters, and filled with the graves and headstones of too many people to count, and to remember. The confines of the cemetery started out small, but with each passing year it’s grown significantly, and now encases an expanse of 20 acres or more- given how spread out many of the graves are. There are portions of the cemetery that have not been touched in more than an age, and others more recently- there is no one alive but Morrigan that knows the full length of it, and just what it holds.
The cemetery has melded in with the woods it sits in, headstones can be seen dotted among the trees and the sprawling clearings made by human hand, that in time have become less clearings and more small, somewhat clear spaces. In many of the older portions the paths between the graves have faded and you can scarcely see them anymore for the overgrown vegantion and the covering of leaves and rock and whatever else over the years. In the older spaces as well, many of the headstones have begun to crumble and the names have faded away, while the trees and the plants seem to try and reclaim the space.
In the younger parts however, things are more well kept and the graves have not been weathered so badly. The humans left alive who have any attachment to the newer tombstones keep these sections of the cemetery more tidy than the rest… but like the older spaces, as time passes and the humans forget those buried more and more- more of the cemetery becomes unkempt, and the tidier portions diminish further.
Most of the cemetery is made up of simple graves with stone headstones, or even sometimes wood (where they haven’t rotted). These resting spaces are in neat little rows in some portions of the site, or seemingly scattered about haphazardly in others. As time progressed, the simple headstones were joined by more elaborate things- pillars and statues, and monuments and crypts. These more intricate things are clustered together in specific portions of the land, and are few and far between- as there had always been little need (and not much money to be had) for such grand things.
There are many plants to be found here, both wild and invading from the surrounding wood (such as trees, ferns, shrubs, etc) and those plants that the humans have brought in over the years. There is no true water source to be found in the cemetery itself (not even with it’s massive size), but there are a great many places where the land has settled and pools and puddles form from rain.
The whole of the cemetery is circled by low stacked stone walls built over the years, and reshaped and extended as more space was needed to count the many dead over the decades. In the newer portions of the cemetery, these walls are nicely put together and sturdy- but in the older portions, some of the walls nearly bleed into the wood around it, or have fallen altogether and no longer mark the boundaries. In these portions of nonexistent wall, one may pass onto the grounds without ever realizing it- until they begin to see the solitary headstones scattered about.
Humans from the nearby village continue to use the cemetery even as the years go by, and they add new sections and make new improvements slowly- but they are rarely ever there unless something pressing occurs, or they have need to bury someone. There is no permanent caretaker of the land. People do what they can, as they can, and only when they feel the need or want to.
There are a great many dead in this place, and the humans avoid any lengthy time there as best they can. Superstitions, old stories, or whatever else have them wary of being there too long- and tales of glimpses of a strange, black, almost dog-like creature being seen in this place have them wary.
The cemetery was built when the village was- and has sat in those woods for centuries now. It is an ancient place that has seen too many winters, and filled with the graves and headstones of too many people to count, and to remember. The confines of the cemetery started out small, but with each passing year it’s grown significantly, and now encases an expanse of 20 acres or more- given how spread out many of the graves are. There are portions of the cemetery that have not been touched in more than an age, and others more recently- there is no one alive but Morrigan that knows the full length of it, and just what it holds.
The cemetery has melded in with the woods it sits in, headstones can be seen dotted among the trees and the sprawling clearings made by human hand, that in time have become less clearings and more small, somewhat clear spaces. In many of the older portions the paths between the graves have faded and you can scarcely see them anymore for the overgrown vegantion and the covering of leaves and rock and whatever else over the years. In the older spaces as well, many of the headstones have begun to crumble and the names have faded away, while the trees and the plants seem to try and reclaim the space.
In the younger parts however, things are more well kept and the graves have not been weathered so badly. The humans left alive who have any attachment to the newer tombstones keep these sections of the cemetery more tidy than the rest… but like the older spaces, as time passes and the humans forget those buried more and more- more of the cemetery becomes unkempt, and the tidier portions diminish further.
Most of the cemetery is made up of simple graves with stone headstones, or even sometimes wood (where they haven’t rotted). These resting spaces are in neat little rows in some portions of the site, or seemingly scattered about haphazardly in others. As time progressed, the simple headstones were joined by more elaborate things- pillars and statues, and monuments and crypts. These more intricate things are clustered together in specific portions of the land, and are few and far between- as there had always been little need (and not much money to be had) for such grand things.
There are many plants to be found here, both wild and invading from the surrounding wood (such as trees, ferns, shrubs, etc) and those plants that the humans have brought in over the years. There is no true water source to be found in the cemetery itself (not even with it’s massive size), but there are a great many places where the land has settled and pools and puddles form from rain.
The whole of the cemetery is circled by low stacked stone walls built over the years, and reshaped and extended as more space was needed to count the many dead over the decades. In the newer portions of the cemetery, these walls are nicely put together and sturdy- but in the older portions, some of the walls nearly bleed into the wood around it, or have fallen altogether and no longer mark the boundaries. In these portions of nonexistent wall, one may pass onto the grounds without ever realizing it- until they begin to see the solitary headstones scattered about.
Humans from the nearby village continue to use the cemetery even as the years go by, and they add new sections and make new improvements slowly- but they are rarely ever there unless something pressing occurs, or they have need to bury someone. There is no permanent caretaker of the land. People do what they can, as they can, and only when they feel the need or want to.
There are a great many dead in this place, and the humans avoid any lengthy time there as best they can. Superstitions, old stories, or whatever else have them wary of being there too long- and tales of glimpses of a strange, black, almost dog-like creature being seen in this place have them wary.
-Morrigan INTERACTING WITH Her BOUNDARY-
Morrigan, despite the unfortunate end she found in the cemetery in her former life, has no aversion to the land. She does not care for it as a caretaker or a guardian would, but she does not actively seek to destroy nor harm it either. To her it is simply a space, and one with many things inside it, and with many secrets and things that have withered away to nothing… and of which only she has been left to remember.
Being that she is content in being a silent watcher of sorts, she quite enjoys wandering it’s vast expanses and simply taking it all in. The older parts that the humans have not touched in more than an age are both alluring, as well as sobering for her- another reminder that all things crumble under time.
Having been tied to the land for so long, she is the only ‘living’ thing alive that knows it’s deeper secrets, and it’s full scope. She knows where some of the most ancient parts are, where the forgotten graves and crypts have been hidden, and where the walls are meant to be even when they have fallen into nothing. She knows of treasures and items that have become unearthed in time from humans leaving the trinkets for the dead. She’s woven tracks and trails through the overgrown grass and weeds and the like that only she can find, and she alone remembers nearly all of the names on the headstones that have washed away.
She does not disturb much in the cemetery, since she tries her best to let fate and life do as it will without her interference. She does not meddle with the unkempt plants, or bother trying to fix things that crack and break- she lets things be as they will, and as they wish… with the exception of one spot in particular.
In one of the more deeply hidden portions of the cemetery, there is clearing surrounded by thick undergrowth and trailing vines that have engulfed the nearby graves and headstones near completely. In this little clearing, an entire batch of pumpkins has taken root and grown quite fervently. In this particular space there is a clump of a few headstones that have tumbled on top of one another and created a small alcove among the field of pumpkins all around. This is the place that Morrigan returns to quite frequently, and she has gathered moss and other crass in the alcove to create something of a nest. She will stay in the alcove when it rains or snows, and she will lay on the top of the stack of stone when it is warm and enjoy the sunlight.
She also tends the pumpkins here, instead of leaving them alone like she does with all the other plantlife in the cemetery. She plucks dead or diseased portions away from the whole, and when the pumpkins reach fruition and begin to rot- she’ll move them and pile them in a portion of the clearing in a heap. Mostly they create something of a mulch pile after a while, but many creatures (such as mice and deer, squirrels and birds) of the forest know of this place and come during the harvest time to eat the pumpkins, while Morrigan simply watches from across the way. This is the single time in which she does anything that has a direct impact on the life and survival of the creatures of the world.
Being that she is content in being a silent watcher of sorts, she quite enjoys wandering it’s vast expanses and simply taking it all in. The older parts that the humans have not touched in more than an age are both alluring, as well as sobering for her- another reminder that all things crumble under time.
Having been tied to the land for so long, she is the only ‘living’ thing alive that knows it’s deeper secrets, and it’s full scope. She knows where some of the most ancient parts are, where the forgotten graves and crypts have been hidden, and where the walls are meant to be even when they have fallen into nothing. She knows of treasures and items that have become unearthed in time from humans leaving the trinkets for the dead. She’s woven tracks and trails through the overgrown grass and weeds and the like that only she can find, and she alone remembers nearly all of the names on the headstones that have washed away.
She does not disturb much in the cemetery, since she tries her best to let fate and life do as it will without her interference. She does not meddle with the unkempt plants, or bother trying to fix things that crack and break- she lets things be as they will, and as they wish… with the exception of one spot in particular.
In one of the more deeply hidden portions of the cemetery, there is clearing surrounded by thick undergrowth and trailing vines that have engulfed the nearby graves and headstones near completely. In this little clearing, an entire batch of pumpkins has taken root and grown quite fervently. In this particular space there is a clump of a few headstones that have tumbled on top of one another and created a small alcove among the field of pumpkins all around. This is the place that Morrigan returns to quite frequently, and she has gathered moss and other crass in the alcove to create something of a nest. She will stay in the alcove when it rains or snows, and she will lay on the top of the stack of stone when it is warm and enjoy the sunlight.
She also tends the pumpkins here, instead of leaving them alone like she does with all the other plantlife in the cemetery. She plucks dead or diseased portions away from the whole, and when the pumpkins reach fruition and begin to rot- she’ll move them and pile them in a portion of the clearing in a heap. Mostly they create something of a mulch pile after a while, but many creatures (such as mice and deer, squirrels and birds) of the forest know of this place and come during the harvest time to eat the pumpkins, while Morrigan simply watches from across the way. This is the single time in which she does anything that has a direct impact on the life and survival of the creatures of the world.