Taking up a disproportionately large amount of the Roe’s above-ground portion, the City Cemetery stands as an eternal tribute to the countless citizens who have faded from existence; leaving only memories and, in all likelihood, debts behind.
Ringed in on all sides by decrepit buildings from the early days of the city’s opulence, now gone, the cemetery manages to feel claustrophobic despite the massive space it takes up. Encompassing a full third of the district, if not more, the expansive, hilly field is littered with gravestones and monuments beyond counting. The grasses and small plants which grow here are surprisingly lively; more so than in nearly any other area of the town. Were it not for the multitudes of graves, one might be forgiven for thinking it some sort of morbid public park, rather than a graveyard. Of course, with the multitude of headstones packed so tightly together that many are nearly falling over from overcrowding around them, there is really no way such a mistake could be made today.
Row upon jagged, disorderly row stretches from one end of the field to the other; each contributing to the solemn, unmoving parade which marches over hills, around bends, and through tiny groves of willows where they stand. Tall obelisks, craggy mausoleums, and stately sepulchers break up the natural scenery here and there; adding an air of mystery and forlorn beauty to the graveyard’s visage. Amongst them, many you can see as you tread the hard-beaten paths of the cemetery have fallen to extreme disrepair over the years. Some have collapsed entirely, leaving only forsaken, moss-covered ruins in their stead.
A few small shrines to various gods can be found here, as well as the now-defunct Temple of Kelemvor and the collapsed Hall of the Raven Queen. The only ones venturing into such places these days are the grave keepers; stoic sentinels who tends to the grounds as best they can with spade and sickle. Digging new graves, mending old ones, keeping track of whose buried where, and keeping the obnoxiously fervent plant life in check has left these ghastly individuals with little time for anything else. They live within the seemingly-abandoned buildings which act as the cemeteries containing walls. The speak little, often offering visitors little more than a nod of acknowledgement and a shaky point in one direction or another; directing them to a specific grave or some other landmark they may be seeking.
Decrepit and ominous, the cemetery is nonetheless an important site of interest for those visiting the city. As it is here, and here alone, that their adventures are most likely to end...
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:03, Thu 15 Oct 2020.