A Fantasy Roleplaying Game...

The creaking of the canopy of the bakery beneath his window is the sign for Galdor to get up, day by day he is used to the strange noise and already had serious discussions with Belegund the baker about the sound of this wooden thunder. But these were usually after some jars of beer and never resulted in anything to happen, the baker is a friend and Galdor is actually quite satisfied with this alarm to get up.
After he woke himself with cold water in the face from the bowl next to him, he sits down for a small breakfast of some bread and porridge. His grandmother had a recipe which he is still using today, nectar of the gods, even if it is a simple meal of wheat, oat and milk, her grandmother always extended it a bit and made a real enjoyable meal of it. Adding some fruits and a bit of sugar to make it tasty sweet or if work was going well and money was there to spend, making it a bit spicy.
Soon after he cleared up his few dishes, he gets out of his sleeping tunic, washes himself a more properly, getting dressed afterwards. Looking outside the day seems to become hot and he deicdes for the short-sleeved tunic and trousers with simple but sturdy leather shoes. The fashion in Vandemar is not very original, but still diverse and has its very own style. People usually wear tunics, coloured blue, grey or something between blue and grey, trousers are in general only beneath the knees or it is of higher quality and goes to the ankles. The more wealthy often wear robes or tabards over their tunics, though you rarely find any other colour than blue or grey.
Galdor leaves the house he is living in, it is a large stone building, like all houses in Vandemar, and is inhabited by numerous people as the four levels offer much space. He walks out of the door, greets the baker with a good morning who seems too busy to hear it, shouting at his apprentice why he burned some pies, the poor boy is looking like he would cry soon.
Heading down the street he still moves in the shadow, as the sun is not high enough to brighten the street which has a north-south allignment. He was right though, the sun will be burn hot today, Galdor sighes that he forgot his hat then, work is always more exhausting when the sun shows its best side. The street where he lives is not a major street of the city, but neither only a small dead-end-alley, so he soon stands on one of the main roads, heading towards the Rammas Pand, not wanting to enter the inner ring, but his work place is there.
Together with him are already quite many people on the streets, many heading the same way for their business is in the inner ring, but the streets are broad and the density is nothing compared to the one when the markets are open or the King releases the monthly grain reserve, people swarm the streets then, eager to be the first ones, but noone is running, nobody is pushing, the people have learned that this does neither help nor benefit anyone.
Just like the small bakery outside his house, small shops of daily needs open along the main street, bakeries, butchers or at least those who sell the meat, because the butchering is done in the inner ring, and more smaller shops of daily needs, like potteries, wine merchants, cloth merchants or herbalists. Galdor always liked to stand in front of the latter, the smell of the different spices, herbs and plants always give him a feeling of comfort and relief.
He continues his way though, he can already see the building of his working place, smaller than the one he dwells in, but of better looking, two pillars guard the large entrance door. He crosses the street and watches out for passign carriages or riders and moves quickly to the other side, going into the building. The hall of the ground floor is as high as the first floor would be and nearly as long as the entire building. He can already see two of his compaions waiting, Hareth in her simple dress but as always she looks far too well dressed for work and Magor, who has the same expression in his face day by day, like he would suffer the greatest losses and pain, instead he actually has a beautiful and nice wife, having two children with her.
"Good Morning you two."
"Oh hello Galdor, how have you been?" Hareth has a melodic voice, but she never wants to sing or recite some poetry, a shame in Galdors opinion.
"Morning." Magor is never very talkative when the day is early.
"I was ..." He is interrupted by Boron, their master if you could name him that.
"Greetings. We are going to the Aldamir quarter today, we are waiting for the two others and then go to work. Galdor, where is your hat? You get burned or mad in the sun. Here take this one, I knew that one of you would miss one."
Boron is a good man, he is doing his work with passion for a long time already. All of them belong to the Galu Rîm with the job to maintain plants, flowers and public gardens. Their work is heavy and often the whole day, but it is paid well and they do the city a favour but not letting it become a stony desert.
The other two soon join them and they move out on their carriage, loaded with their tools, to move to the quarter. Aldamir is right next to the place where Galdor lives, a beautiful public park is located around an imposing rider mounment on top of a fountain. The park itself is maintained by a small group of private persons without payment, seeing it as an honour to have a hobby where they help the city as well. The quarters plants and trees itself will be the work of the six today.
The day is long and hot, the work is hard and demanding, but water is available by fountains in the whole city and they work without being stressed by anyone. Boron is a fair leader, helping where it is needed, advicing where it is wished and correcting where it has to be done. But they all know their job, doing them for several years or more already, enjoying it. Galdor is thankful for the hat, otherwise he would have been roasted already. He know these summers, expirienced many of them already, for Galdor is already in his seventies, but looks like an ordinary thirty or fourty year old, thanks to the fortune of long life his people are blessed with.
The day is nearing its end, the sun is fading into the narrow west, soon it will drop beneath the western walls and only the citadel will be able enjoy the last shines of day. Boron calls them together and calls the work to end for today, they are not finished, but tomorrow they will continue. They make their way back to their guild hall, Galdor gives back his hat and they part. Hareth and Galdor have the same for a short time and they walk together, deep in a conversation, a laugh here and there and then they part as well.
At home Galdor is having a small supper, a herring with a few baked potatoes. Today he is not in the mood to read in the book he got from the library, some epic tale about magic jewellery, he undresses and goes to bed again, faling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Belegund opens his bakery and the creaking of the canopy ...