deluge
for as long as i have roamed around this world, the pavilion has been empty. i camped in it now and again, only ever briefly, when setting out to explore or returning from the inland.
i remember returning from out west one rainy, early summer about a decade back, when it rained and rained and rained, so much that the river through the cork forest flooded and swept away the bridge. there was no helping it, i trudged right back to the pavilion and camped out in one of its dry rooms until the water subsided.
water trickled through the broken ceiling of the main hall, and where it pooled, meadows of stickyweed and mustard were appearing. i had nothing else to do, so explored the place, its chambers and cellars, empty and dark, where all you could hear was steady, echoing sound of the rain. i boiled up the mustard to extend my supplies until there was a break in the rain and the floodwaters subsided.
i understand there are people living out there again, though.