Beneath the rolling green hills of Southendia, where the river bends slow and lazy through fields of barley and wildflowers, lies Emalt. This subterranean town, dug into the dense clay of the hills, is a place of quiet industry and old grudges. Once a burrow of the kobolds, its tunnels and chambers were taken over by human settlers generations ago, their original builders driven out or slain.
Though the conquest is long past, Emalt remains an oddity in Southendia, where most settlements thrive in the open air. The town is almost invisible from a distance, marked only by the sturdy stone gates set into the hills and the lively market square before the northern entrance. Within, its winding tunnels and reinforced chambers offer a rare security - safe from raiders, storms, and even the occasional royal taxman who might find the burrows difficult to navigate.
Life in Emalt moves at a steady, deliberate pace. The burrows are cool year-round, and the damp air carries the scent of earth and deep roots. It is a place where voices are always kept low, where heavy doors are muffled by soil, and where a sense of permanence settles over every carved chamber.
On Entering Emalt
Step through one of Emalt’s four great gates, and the air shifts at once. The burrows are a world apart from the bright farmland above - a space of cool shadows, low ceilings, and softly curving walls. Lanterns flicker in recessed niches, their light golden against the packed clay. There is no wind here, no birdsong - only the quiet hum of life beneath the hills.
Unlike most settlements in Southendia, Emalt does not have a great hall or sprawling manor for its leaders. Instead, the Town Hall is a deep chamber, its ceiling ribbed with old wooden beams and its walls carved with reliefs depicting the town’s history. A central stone table, polished smooth by generations of hands, serves as the meeting place for the burrow’s elders and councilors. Here, disputes are settled, trade agreements brokered, and matters of expansion hotly debated.
Living Burrows
The homes of Emalt are carved directly into the earth, their walls lined with wooden supports and thick woven tapestries to ward off the chill. Unlike the tight, twisting tunnels of the old koboldi burrow, these chambers are built with human comfort in mind—doorways are taller, rooms broader, and communal spaces more open. Each home has a central hearth, with vents carefully dug to carry smoke up through concealed chimneys in the hills above.