The Sack of Calth: Prolog

Dawn broke in full glory, casting golden rays across a land that had been forgotten. So removed and trapped, that you could easily picture it trapped in a bubble of time. Caught in a time where Men were great, their lands bountiful and their power mighty.
Behold the lands of Calth.
A mighty city of high walls and strong gates stands tall over a plain of soft grass, white-laid stone roads leading from its four mighty portals into its far off homes. Great towers of white rise like victorious swords into the air, each battlement holding mighty trebuchets of sun touched oak.
Upon the walls walked men in fine scale raiment, their white bows and across their shoulders. These are the men of Calth, men who swore to fight for a land that had forgotten them and a line of kings that had long since fallen into history.
Each of them were tall, their black hair long or pulled into pony tails which hung loosely from their heads.  The eyes of the men were either of forest green or a deep midnight blue. Their jawlines sharp and heads held high in a pride of their duties.
Behind the walls did the sun break; upon the homes of thousands who had yet to raise them their beds and begin their daily tasks. Some already moved around the streets, walking to start a long day of their works while others took their positions on street corners and raised platforms.
Those were the news speakers, men and women who carried a list of things to be spoken for all the people to hear. It was a thankless task, but the pay was rewarding and the hours short.
The city had many areas, but only four major districts.
To the northern end lay Calths proud defenders and warriors. Whole buildings given over to everything that an army would need from barracks, stables, offices to blacksmiths, grain stocks, recruitment officers and training courtyards. Calth’s own law enforcers housed themselves primarily in the northern end, but had their houses spread over the city.  There’s men wore leather hauberks and carried heavy clubs and small wooden shields. Law in Calth was harsh and final, which made very little crime on its streets.
Over to the west lay Calths lifeblood; forges, bakers, houses of healing and learning. Great libraries stood with high with hanging gardens that always brought a fresh life into the rooms. Teachers were yet to arrive, but already the schools’ caretakers would be opening and doing their tasks.
People would soon flood the eastern side of Calth to its market, a vast maze of stands and buildings, each promising to outbid each other. Many of those stands and buildings were only just opening, and the markets guild met earlier to check on prices and fair stock.
With the south came laughter and merriment. Taverns and bath houses were being cleaned and made ready for their guests to return, already mindful of their regulars’ needs. This part of the city would be busy indeed come the noon, but for now those who had a moment to spare soaked in the quiet atmosphere.
Nor was the city alone.
To the east of the city lay a great vineyard, whose workers were already arriving or waking up for hard labouring. The house itself was massive, dominating its grape vines with proud grace. This was the estate of the Ventris family, their home for the past twenty years.
Further to the east and into the forests were the roads are surrounded by tall, thick trees stood watch towers cunningly hidden where the Rangers of Calth stood watchful. Like a crown on a hill, stood a mighty fort build for nothing but war was Markriddge. 
The old fort was one of the first line of defences built during the founding, squatting in the middle of an opening in the forest with its killing grounds stretched all around it. A wide dirt ramp lead into its low, wide gate from which many skirmishes and battles had been fought. The dirt on the ramp itself was smooth and hard, packed almost like stone. Thousands upon thousands had trodden its earth and many more would.
Amongst the trees lay small islands of humanity, walled homesteads of stone and wood were those who could not live in Calth itself lived to supply their more raw materials to trade.  Lumber camps, mines and farms were within reach of their homesteads, a hard day’s work beckoning them.
Then the land ended with a deep wide river.
The Calthrian River was the first defence against the forces of Mordor, a site of many battles and whole wars fought on its banks. Villages and forts lined the western banks of the river, where the River Guard manned the long stretch of water. Bearing spear and shield, the River Guard stood ready for any invasion.
Little did they know, miles away from their homes and posts did a vast orc army prepare for war. Totally to fifty thousand, they bore with them mighty catapults, huge siege towers and many spiked ladders. Trolls took arms and drums while warg packs growled and snarled at one another, their orc masters whipping them into submission. The lands about them were barren, like the life was sucked from its grounds in a distant age long since passed.
A great war was coming.