Seabreeze Landing

Excerpt from “Wonders of Agoreath: 12th Age” a quote by Cornelia Conerstone of Clan Cobble in regard to the Landing of Seabreeze. Last updated 521 Frosthuldr.

Seabreeze Landing rests like a hardy pearl at the edge of the Silent Sea, nestled where the dark green fingers of the Scarwood forest meet the roaring waves of the coast. The town juts out westward into the sea; a natural promontory where small swells of white-capped waves crash against weathered shore and wooden dock posts. Each assault spraying salty mist high into the air sprinkling the breeze. It is a mid-morning in the heart of an overcast day in season Lenthalian* (autumn), and the coastal wind rushes through the town, ruffling the scales of fish hung on racks to dry, and sending the sturdy wooden signs of seaside taverns and smithies creaking on their chains.

The sea breeze is brisk and tinged with the chill of approaching winter. It carries the briny scent of the sea, mingled with the earthy aroma of pine needles that drift down from the bordering forest. The town’s buildings are crafted of rough-hewn timbers and stones, their roofs shingled with slate to endure the frequent coastal rains. A few houses boast brightly painted doors, splashes of ocean blue and deep coral red, a contrast to the otherwise muted tones of the weather-beaten structures.

Cobblestone streets weave through Seabreeze Landing, winding toward the central market square where fishmongers hawk their morning catches—gleaming cod, silvery mackerel, and great crabs with shells like crimson shields. Their voices, hearty and loud, are carried away by the wind, lost beneath the rumble of the waves. Wooden stalls display goods from the forest as well: bundles of dried herbs, mushrooms with earthy caps, and wild honey sealed in clay pots. The town’s inhabitants are a mix of weatherworn fishermen, leather-skinned by the sun and salt, and forest-dwellers with eyes that seem to follow the sway of the pines.

Down by the piers, weathered boats bob gently on the swells, tethered to the dock by thick ropes. Sailors and fishers move with practiced ease, securing lines and checking nets, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. Seagulls wheel overhead, their calls sharp and raucous, competing with the distant crashing of the surf against the rock-lined shore. Further out, the gray-green waters of the Silent Sea stretch towards a hazy horizon, where the morning sun struggles to break through a layer of gauzy clouds, turning the waves into sheets of molten silver.

Beyond the town, the forest looms like a guardian, its pines tall and straight, their needled branches whispering in the wind. Trails cut through the woods, leading to hidden groves and ancient cairns, remnants of a time before Seabreeze Landing grew into the town it is today. The trees’ shadows stretch long over the town’s edge, offering respite from the biting wind, as if the forest still remembers when it alone ruled this stretch of the coast.

This place is no stranger to legends—whispers of sea creatures seen at dusk, and tales of spirits lurking in the shadows between trees and howls of wolf beasts in the dark woods. Seabreeze Landing is a town caught between two worlds, where the forest meets the sea and the ancient meets the ever-changing. Yet, in the heart of the morning, it is simply alive—its people toiling, laughing, and weaving their lives against the backdrop of sea and sky, as the wind sings its wild, endless song.