It was a humble affair, all wooden support beams and grey stone, steeple roofs of sunset-red slate, and streets of well-worn cobblestone with deep grooves from centuries of wagon traffic. It was an enclosed settlement of relatively low walls about four times the height of a pony that were in a state of disrepair incongruous with the fine state of the dwellings they protected. Ivy and creep covered the walls in places with several of the tower roofs, leaving their innards exposed where they had collapsed inwards. Whatever cause this town had to require such defences, it was a long time since it had reared its ugly head. It didn't prevent a rather conspicuous militia presence, however, which made sense given that it lay at the juncture of an important regional crossroads and was close to several other such centres. Maybe the town itself wasn't in any real danger, but that many loose bits and goods coming and going rather required ponies with pointy sticks to maintain law and order from time to time from opportunistic bandits.