Barbarian Decor

The Warlord's Guide to Decorating

By Eric Butler

 

            Throughout the centuries men with too much testosterone, a few weapons, and a drive to conquer the world have made great contributions to horseback riding, archery, swordsmanship, tactics, and universal criticism of art.  Despite this, the contributions that barbarians have made to decorating has been largely ignored.  In this volume I will attempt to explain the basics of decorating the barbarian way.  Each section will describe a dwelling and its attendant subsections will explain each area of the dwelling in further detail.

 

Hovel

Rating - Attila the Who?

Effort to obtain - Threatening display of weapons

 

            The hovel is the absolute pits as far as decorating goes.  Lacking the mobile majesty of a tent or the splendor of a palace, a hovel must be decorated in such a way as to proclaim to the world, "I'm living here because I don't care."  A truly well decorated hovel appears to be only a temporary shelter, a rest stop before you go on to greater things, even if you live there for twenty consecutive years.  A good way to accomplish this is to rip out the plaster, if any, on the walls and let the roof fall apart.  Thatching is the best roofing, as it can be replaced from underneath to create a solid roof that looks like it's rotting.

            Lighting:  Lighting a hovel is a delicate balance between appearing too cheap to light the place and allowing enough light to see detail.  A good lighting system should allow vague shapes to be seen, but no more.  Not only does this prevent visitors from seeing the actual state of the dwelling, but it also allows a good decorator to create a setting where the visitor feels inclined to leave before they actually step inside.  A careful placement of well-polished weapons along the walls works wonders, as all the can be seen is flashes of reflected light.  Furthermore, the visitor will be unnerved by your ability to navigate (from memory) the area which appears to them to be impossibly dark.  Given all these considerations a smoky fire is the best lighting system, as it provides low, irregular lighting, with occasional clouds of smoke to obscure the view more.

            Cooking Area:  Separating the cooking area from the rest of the hovel is a bad idea, as it will completely ruin the temporary shelter look.  Instead, the cooking area should be shoved off into a corner and made to look as haphazard as possible.  A fire pit will do nicely, as it can be set up in under an hour, and therefore provides no clues as to how long one intends to stay.  The one problem with this is wood and ash, both of which must be placed a good distance away from the hovel, or, in the case of ash, buried.  Another advantage of a fire pit is that it can be moved out of the corner on the pretext that it is, in fact, the lighting and heating system as well.  If one intends to place a spit over the fire the fire must remain in the corner, however.

            Main Room:  There shouldn't be one.  Main rooms are for welcoming people, and that's exactly what the owner of a hovel should avoid.

            Sleeping Area:  Like the cooking area, the sleeping area should be no more complex than what one would use in a campsite.  The one exception to this is if a bed is already present, preferably decaying, in the hovel, in which case a sleeping bag may be placed over it.

            Outdoors:  Outside should be, if anything, less hospitable than the inside.  After all, you have to live on the inside, so scaring visitors away early allows you to cheat and improve the inside.  The outside of the hovel must appear close to total collapse, with any renovations made crudely, preferably by knocking holes in the walls.  This creates the impression that you don't plan on staying.  Obviously, too much external decoration can ruin this effect, so a careful balance between menace and permanence must be sought.  A few spiked heads, however, can deter all but the most foolish of visitors.  Just take care to make the heads appear carelessly placed, preferably in a random pattern with the spikes at funny angles.  A cheaper alternative is to toss a bale of hay into the yard and shoot a few arrows into it.

            Spouse's Quarters:  Get her a second hovel, cheapskate!  Then she can decorate her way.  Anyway, it's not like they take much effort to obtain.

 

Tent

Rating - Horseman from Hell

Effort to obtain - Fatal "accident"

 

            The tent is a great step up in the world.  A tent is a true barbarian dwelling, aloof from civilization and highly mobile.  The one problem with decorating a tent is that nobody else in their right mind lives in one.  A good decorator can use this to their advantage, creating a tent that fairly drips scorn for society.  The perfect tent should be easy to pack yet comfortable, and, most importantly, reflecting a mindset that cares nothing for civilization - unless the civilization has unguarded cash.

            Lighting:  Lighting a tent is a great challenge.  During the day a well-made tent can be opened enough to be lit by the sun, and on rainy days a few oil lamps can provide sufficient light.  The problem comes when darkness falls.  A good lighting system provides light to the inside of the tent without silhouetting the occupants against the tent fabric. This means that the most important part of the lighting system is the tent wall itself, which needs to be thickened if it lets light through.  Imbedding a few small pieces of metal in the fabric to stop arrows never hurts, either.

            Cooking Area:  The cooking area in a tent should be slightly separated from the rest of the tent if a sectioned tent is used, or directly in the center if an unsectioned tent is used.  The cooking area should consist of a bucket of water and a fire.  The fire can be "upgraded" as much as possible without limiting its ability to be rapidly disassembled and moved, a stove is bad, a spit is fine.  Plates, if you use them, and utensils (knives only, please) can be stored in a separate area.  An unsectioned tent should allow smoke to vent straight out the top.  The fire can be used for heat and light in an unsectioned tent as well.

            Main Room:  No longer a temporary resident but a full-fledged warrior you should expect visitors.  Be they fellow warriors or groveling diplomats the intent of a main room is the same - display your power.  To a fellow barbarian the main room should be a display of competence, proving to him that you are his equal, if not his better.  To a diplomat the main room should be a final testament to your power and another reason to give you tribute.  If a diplomat pees in his pants when he crosses the threshold you did well.  The proper way to display power is a mix of trophies and weapons.  Weapons should be in stands, easy to reach for, all around the room.  The more weapons displayed the better, but only if you know how to use them.  Another useful tip is to include weapons that are hard to use properly.  A rack of swords in impressive, but even more so if one slot contains a 25 pound ax.  Similarly, a few bows around the room look good, but a 90 pound draw longbow can be as impressive as a few smaller bows.  Trophies, be they human or animal, are also good.  Human trophies should be used in moderation, as appearing to be too bloodthirsty can make one appear unfit to be a leader of men.  The best use of human trophies are ones with a well known story, a drinking cup made out of a particularly troublesome general's skull, or his spiked head, are both good.  A dozen unknown corpses are just messy.  The one exception is scalps, which can be used everywhere without being more than a gentle reminder of one's skill.  Animal trophies similarly should be used in moderation, but only because too many makes one appear to be a hunter and not a warrior.  A few rugs and a head or two is good.

            Sleeping Area:  The sleeping area of a sectioned tent should never be seen by outsiders.  A good idea is to cover the entrance to the sleeping area with an animal skin (preferably one from a large, dangerous animal, with the skin still showing clear spear marks), and to keep the lighting to a minimum.  Concealing the existence of a sleeping area is good.  After all, civilized people sleep, so you should make them labor under the impression you don’t.  If the tent is un-sectioned, the floor cover should double as a sleeping mat.  Fur rugs are good, as they can be spread out to be rugs, and then recollected to make a bed at night, without revealing that you sleep.

            Outdoors:  The area surrounding a tent is easy to customize, as the tent can be moved.  Huge, sweeping vistas, the kind that make people feel about four inches tall, are good.  If the area is an open plain makes sure to have your herd of horses nearby, preferably tended by sullen-looking men with large knives and spears.  An open display of horsemanship (“forgetting” that diplomats where coming and being astride a charger firing arrows when they arrive) is easier to arrange this way.  Another good idea is to allow the tent to overlook a city that is held by the enemy.  This makes enemy diplomats nervous both when they visit you and when they look at your tent from the city.  If you catch them doing this, step outside the tent and glare at them with the same look a hawk uses on a mouse.  Any area that the tent overlooks should be strewn with haphazard targets – arrow-filled hay bales, saplings with the tops clearly cut off by a man on horseback, and possibly a severely mauled log, especially if it can be made to look vaguely like a human silhouette.

            Spouse’s Quarters:  These should be separated from the main tent if possible, if not they should be moved slightly off to the side of the tent.  The key to designing this area of a tent is to make sure that visitors will not be able to recognize anything in it.  Sleeping mats are OK, but cooking knives should look like instruments of torture, and lighting fixtures should look like dead animals with a candle inside.  One’s spouse can help with this impression of strangeness by pretending that he or she does not speak any language spoken to him or her and glaring at visitors without blinking.

 

Great Hall

Rating – Let’s see if Russia’s inflammable

Effort to Obtain – Ask politely - with 500 armed men and a column of smoke rising from the town behind you.

 

            The great hall is the mark of a settled warrior, one whose empire is vast and provides enough tribute to settle back and enjoy the finer things in life – shooting arrows at trespassers, commanding armies, and farting loudly at diplomats.  The great hall should project power like a visible aura.  Anyone looking at a great hall should immediately wonder if there’s a vacancy in a hotel in Singapore.

            Lighting:  A great hall should be well lit, to better display the fact that it is enormously large.  A good lighting system is a huge fire, large enough to roast an entire ox in, in the middle of one wall and torches liberally sprinkled across the walls.  Visitors should be constantly wondering where all the wood to burn comes from.

            Cooking Area:  The cooking area should be a vast kitchen, centered around an enormous fire.  A good way to decide if the fire is big enough is to look at it and say, “This isn’t big enough,” until someone risks death to tell you that it can’t be made bigger.  As a general rule, roasting an entire ox and side dishes simultaneously is a must.  The kitchen should be filled with strange food items hanging from the ceiling.  Visitors should be alternately bumping their heads on something and screaming as they realize what it is.  The cooks should all look funny, have weird names, glare at strangers, and have a disconcerting ability to slice entire dishes with one hand while making drinks with the other.

            Main Room:  The main room should be so large that someone at one end cannot recognize his best friend at the other.   Not only is this useful when you want to kill his best friend without him knowing, but it also serves to make visitors feel very small.  Your seat should be huge, making you appear to be the size of a gorilla.  Everything in the room should point to you.  As a general policy, have at least 10 armed guards hanging about the throne.  These guards should be ugly, scarred, and apparently unable to speak in anything more complex than grunts.  This inhibits the foolish notion that merciful treatment can be expected from them.  The walls of the main room should be studded with weapons.  The stranger the weapons, the better.  The impression one wants to give is that the room is doubling as an arsenal for the main body of the army.  Dead animals are also good, especially fierce ones.  The roof and higher parts of the walls can be decorated with vaguely sinister items, so that the visitor on the ground can’t quite tell what you have up there.  Visitors are much easier to deal with when mildly panicked.

            Sleeping Area:  The sleeping area should be the size of an entire small house.  The bed should be the size of an Olympic pool.  The dresser should double as a weapons rack.  There should be secret passages.  The walls should have swords and shields all over them.  The occasional casually placed drinking cup made from a skull should be left about.  But then again, nobody should ever see this room.

            Outdoors:  The outdoors should be scary.  Huge towers filled with arrow slits and ramparts should loom over the hapless visitor.  Bodies hanging from the battlements should remind the careless that errors are not tolerated.  Spiked heads should line the paths.  Sweeping vistas crowded with armed horsemen practicing the arts of war help provide the visitor with another opportunity to wet his pants.  The great hall should dominate all around it.

            Spouse’s Quarters:  These should be palatial rooms covered in the wealth of plundered nations.  The design of the room should suggest that there is little that cannot be accomplished for one’s spouse, and that it would be a very bad idea to try and show them up.  Strange-looking guards armed with glinting weapons should complete the picture.

 

Citadel

Rating – Yes, Mr. Khan.

Effort to Obtain – Conquer the world.  Every other Tuesday.

 

            One can get no higher in the world than a citadel.  The citadel is the ultimate pinnacle of power, a fortress, barracks, palace, and arsenal all in one.  A citadel should allow one to project power over entire continents.  Visiting dignitaries should try to hide under rocks.  Visiting warriors should try and sign up three miles outside town.  Make an impact (use the war hammer).

            Lighting:  The citadel should be lit by approximately 3,000 torches.  The city should alternate between strips of light and dark at night, creating the impression that the warriors one sees are only the careless ones, and that the back alleys are unsafe in the extreme.  The sun shining by day should glint off of spires and turrets that show up miles out.

            Cooking Area:  An entire castle should be devoted to food.  Enormous slaughterhouses filled with cattle, sheep, chickens, pigs, and anything else remotely edible should feed into a huge room, soaked in blood and filled with weirdoes.  It is best to either hire all dwarfs or all giants for the slaughter house and teach them a new language.  They should all be given knives over 14” in length.  This will impress visitors to the point where they follow you so closely that they are sometimes walking in front of you.

            Main Room:  The main room should be an entire empty castle.  Balconies filled with bow-toting warriors should line the walls.  A massive throne surrounded by a force sufficient to occupy China should be centered along the rear wall.  Having a weapons rack the size of a small horse near one hand is not a bad idea either.  It should take approximately ten minutes to walk from one end to the other, and yet the acoustics should be good enough to allow the visitor to hear you tapping your feet all the way across the room.

            Sleeping Area:  A castle.  Do whatever you want.

            Outdoors:  Much of a citadel is outdoors, so this is important.  Every main road in should be lined with heads and bodies of people you don’t like.  The walls of the city should be high enough that any attempt to look at the top from the ground causes neck injuries.  The interior roads should be large enough so that a dozen armed horsemen can charge down them side by side.  Having this happen occasionally helps keep everyone’s spirits up and reflexes sharp.  Basically, the outside of the citadel should be really, really cool.

            Spouse’s Quarters:  Take a castle.  Make it weird.  Never let anyone in alive.

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