Hunting in Urbinia
"A land of darkness but bright minds, beneath our feet but raised up in honor, dangerous but necessary, the Underland is the pride of Urbinia." – Lady Chandler
"We work all year for pittance, the spiders can rip your arm off, and it's usually too dark to see your lover's face which is fine by me." – Geoffrey Lewwis
The Underland is the result of hundreds of years of labor. It is nothing but farmland, pasture, orchard, and lumber forest that covers very nearly as many square miles as Urbinia does on the surface.
Varying in height from barely six feet to nearly one hundred, the land follows not only the general contours of the land above it but also the dictates of what exactly it is supporting as crop. The food that comes from these soils is often described as "pale, both in color and flavor" by those looking to be charitable. Nutritious, but definitely not tasty, these foods form the entirety of the diet of their attendants and the majority of even the working and middle class above. Darkwheat and Whitecattle are the generic terms for grain and meat grown in this manner.
An ever-growing (literal) lower-class tends to the crops which are able to grow year-round thanks to fairly consistent temperatures and water supply. Some of these farmers go their entire lives without seeing anything brighter than a candle, never venturing up to the surface. Their towns are very nearly as close-packed as those on the surface, as population pressures across Urbinia have forced every possible acre to be used for food. The air in these towns, not replenished by the abundance of plants, tends to be stifling and close.
Interestingly, there are few places in the Underland where borders mirror those on the surface. There are also few inter-town conflicts that go beyond a pair of families in a feud. Some theorize that the farms are too tired for anything else, others point to the dire consequences for any family that fails to provide crops.
The food production was thrown into chaos during the Underland War, leading to the establishment (still continued to this day) of rooftop gardens to supplement diets.
Imagine a cathedral at night, the vaulted ceiling lost overhead. There is a feeling of immense space around you, yet the walls can still be dimly sensed. Off in the distance, you can make out the flicker of a single light source. Is it a candle a hundred yards away? Or is it a torch more than a mile in the distance?