Category: Reviews

I recently received a personal note from Hera (zee 9) Informing me that she has once more brought back her famous Goatswood build to Second Life and inviting me to drop in. It’s a place I first visited roughly a decade ago, and to which I most recently returned during its last iteration in-world in April 2022. It’s a place which Hera has always updated in some manner with each appearance, whilst also retaining the core of this very English rural township with strong vibes of medieval origins in its looks.

The latest iteration of Goatswood, which opened earlier in August (and which Hera informs me will remain available for about a month), continues this tradition in offering the familiar setting with some new elements. It share the region in which it is located with a new build, Houndstead Abbey, which very much carries on – in a manner of speaking – from where Whitby Abbey left off, having previously shared the region with Goatswood back in April 2022 (see: Revisiting Hera’s Whitby in Second Life), as well as enjoying a number of iterations at Hera’s hands.

Throughout all of its iterations, Goatswood has offered one of the most naturally immersive environments for casual role-play available in Second Life, bringing together a rich mix of fantasy, Victorian-era elements (notably the railway station and stream train), the aforementioned medieval look and feel and a strong infusion of magic (be it dark or light).

Some of this history is celebrated within the short stories scattered throughout the setting (and thus encouraging carful exploration in order that they might be found and read) and which may help those interesting in doing so to enter the region’s photographic competition, which runs through until September 2nd, 2023 with a total prize pool of L$12,000 – of which L$8,000 will go to the first prize winner. Details of the competition can be obtained from the region’s landing point.

Retaining the sense of a Cotswolds origin, this version of Goatswood brings with it the familiar windmill, the Roebuck Coach House and the church, together with hints of daily life from work at the smithy through to an abandoned attempt at cricket on a green which has perhaps seen better days (and which is set before The Shunters Social Club, which some of us from the UK might seen as a little nod to both railway social clubs and a certain television series of a few decades ago).

One building I don’t recall from previous iterations is the circular keep sitting to the north-west of the town. This appears to have once been outside of the main walls of the town, reached via the road beyond via the road beyond the stream following along that side of Goatswood and using a solidly-built stone bridge to span the stream’s steep banks to reach the curtain walls of the tower’s courtyard. However, given more peaceful times now prevail, some of these curtain walls appear to have been dismantled, allowing the tower to more directly join with the town, little more than a low wooden gate sitting between the well-tended gardens which now occupy a good part of the tower’s courtyard and the street leading back to the Roebuck.

The tower is one of several furnishing buildings within the setting, and it offers a curiously attractive blending of fantasy with classical romanticism (such as the painting within the boudoir-come-bedroom on the middle floor, with its suggestions of Guinevere and Lancelot – or perhaps Tristan and Isolde, as both fit), medieval practicalities (the tapestries draped on the walls) and genteel English afternoons of the landed (afternoon tea and a spot of painting). All with just a flavouring of the magical essence that permeates Goatswood.

There is much that I could write about this corner of mythological / imagined England, notwithstanding my previous writings on Goatswood in these pages. However, it remains a place that should be best seen and experienced than written about – so I will leave you to catch the train from the landing point (touch the Goatswood sign over the platform, rather than  – as with past iterations – touching the open door of the carriage). Instead, I’ll turn my attention to Houndstead Abbey, the second part of the setting, and reached via the sign on the other side of the landing point’s railway platform to that for Goatswood.

As noted above, Houndstead is something of a spiritual successor to Hera’s previous Whitby build, inasmuch as it shares the region with Goatswood and has, as its focal point, the ruins of a large abbey. However, this model – once again an original by Hera, as is the case with the majority of her buildings and structures – is modelled after Abaty Tyndyrn (Tintern Abbey), situated on the Welsh bank of the river Wye as it forms the border between Monmouthshire and Gloucestershire.

Whilst the  Dissolution of the Monasteries brought about Tintern’s fall into ruin, the abbey was, and remains of historic importance, being the first  Cistercian abbey founded in Wales (1131) and only the second such abbey to be founded in Britain, founded just three years earlier in Waverley, Worcestershire. As they stand today, the ruins at Tintern represent the much larger, Gothic abbey structures which were constructed over the original buildings, starting in around 1269 and which almost completely replaced them, although hints still remain in the ruins available to visitors today.

Houndstead shares much of a history similar to that of Tintern. Like the latter, it sits within a river valley – in this case the mythical Wyvern – and thrived up until Henry VIII stomped on things. Thereafter, and as Hera notes:

It was fair game for anyone who needed stone for building, and eventually it was reduced to just a shell of its former glory. In the early 1800’s a well-known artist of the period installed a statue of the Elven Queen at its centre. And soon after, a local theatre group performed Shakespeare’s A Mid Summer Nights Dream amongst the ruins [and] the ruin began to acquire a reputation as a place of strange happenings and fae magic.

– Hera’s notes accompanying the Houndstead Abbey build

This reputation as a place of mystery and magic was probably due in part to the standing stones standing guard around a low mound not entirely out-of-place among the surrounding hills. However, whilst its form match match the gently rounded slopes of the hills, likely caused by the passage of ice in ages past, the mound is anything but a natural feature. As Hera again notes, it was found to be the burial mound of Saxon chieftain – thought to have perhaps been the original founder of the settlement of GatWode not far distant, and which in time became Goatswood.

Exactly where the town lies in relation to the Abbey ruins is hard to say. The presence of the stream suggests it is not too far from Goatswood, and the path running north from one of the bridges over the stream might well offer a route between the two – even if it does peter out after following the stream for a short distance. However, the sense of separation from the town gives the abbey a further edge of mystery – one greatly enhanced by the onset of night, when the light of candles (maintained by whom?) and lanterns illuminate the otherwise darkened abbey, and flames of naked torches guard the path to the burial chamber.

As always with Hera’s builds, both Goatswood and Houndstead Abbey offer a lot to see and appreciate – and the photo competition may well make a visit quite rewarding!

SLurl Details

• Goatswood / Houndstead Landing Point (Themysciya, rated Adult)

In continuing my mainland meanderings, which of late have tended to lean toward Heterocera (more by coincidence than design), I found myself on the north side of the continent and atop the peaks and plateaux of the continent’s mountain range as it seeks to encircle the inner sea and its atoll.

It is here, 200 metres above the highway that traces its way around the foot of the mountains, that a mesa-like plateau towers upwards, entirely cut off from the world around it by the sheer cliffs that fall away on all sides, offering not path or foot-borne means of reaching the steplike terraces of its upper reaches and top. Yet despite its seemingly inaccessible nature, this lonely plateau is nevertheless occupied and built upon, being home to a build by Don Setzer (with the aid of Albane Claray and Dante DeVulgaris (Gian Fetuccio)) entitled Meditation Mountain, and offered to the public as a quiet retreat and place of reflection.

This is a curiously fascinating setting, covering roughly a half full region in area, raising multiple questions for those who like to contextualise the places they visit in Second Life – as is often my wont -, whilst also being a place which might be enjoyed purely for its design and setting. Visits begin at the landing point, located at the uppermost terrace of the plateau and directly before the largest building within the location: a massive medieval / gothic style cathedral; a structure responsible (to me at least) for raising the first of the questions concerning this setting.

The landing point sits as a crossroads of paths, one arm of which leads to the doors of the building while its opposite number points away from it and to a terrace looking out over the lowest step of the plateau. The two remaining paths lead visitors to the gardens running along either side of the cathedral. One of these reaches as far as the north arm of the cathedral’s transept, where the mesa abruptly narrows and a cliff drops away, leaving a precarious-looking set of trestle-mounted wooden steps descending to a man-made terrace and seating area as it extends outwards from the cliffs as a high perch.

The path on the southern side of the cathedral parallels a second (and gravel-topped) path marking the edge of a cliff prior to the two roughly meeting. The gravel path then switchbacks its way down the cliff to where a second broad tabletop of rock sits as the home to a further garden. This is dominated by a a Romanesque temple-style building face a copse of trees across a rock incline, grassy paths rising on either side to border (and run under) the trees to jointly and separately offer the way to where the turn towards one another and meet, a fenced meadow to one side, complete with horses quietly grazing, and a walled garden on the other; the latter has its walls and gates so heavily covered in ivy and vines it is almost possible to miss it.

At the western end of the gardens surrounding the Romanesque temple there sits another of the wooden stairways rising back up the eastern end of the cathedral’s bulk. A place connects this to a third such stairway offers the way down to the western  end of the setting. This sits as a promontory extending outside from below the cathedral, home to a helipad and waiting helicopter, thus revealing how visitors might otherwise visit this high retreat. This sits before – of all things – a spa pool of distinctly modern design and which itself sits before the gigantic maw of a long cavern running directly under the cathedral.

Open at both ends, the cavern is filled with vegetation, ponds, trails, places to sit and – for those willing to seek it out – the way down to an hidden cave. As open at its western end as at its eastern, the cavern provides access to another broad step of rock, this one covered in wild grass and flowers and reached via a stone bridge spanning a swift flowing stream cutting across the rock between two sets of falls. Stepping stones offer a path across this meadow garden, lading visitors to a rock pool sitting as a home for waterfowl, fish and birds.

Alongside the falls giving rising to the stream sits a path zigzagging its way back up the rocks to another path. This connects back to those at the walled garden and its neighbouring meadow, thus forming something of a complete loop around the setting for visitors to follow.

The fascination with this sitting comes in the question: just how did the cathedral – now given over as a place of introspection and music rather than as a religious centre – come to be here? There are no obvious paths up the high cliffs to reach it; so was its masonry hewn can shaped from the very rocks on the high table on which its stands?

Or is it perhaps only neo-gothic in style and of a far younger age than its design might suggest? Young enough to allow the materials used in its construction to arrive in the same manner as some of its visitors: by air? Certainly, the thoroughly regular cut of its facing stonework and that of the Romanesque temple (itself a salon rather than place of deity worship) suggest modern tools may have played a part. But then why build since a monumental structure in so inaccessible place? How these questions are answered lies within the realm of individual imaginations, so I’ll leave you to visit and create your own back-story to the setting.

There are one or two rough edges to the setting, particularly in terms of texturing and overlaps, and I admit that to may eyes, the wooden stairways detract from the overall design; give the nature of the setting, I’d have thought stone stairways set into / onto the rocks would have been more fitting. But this is just a personal opinion; when taken as a whole, there is no denying Meditation Mountain is an interesting and unique design, one with many opportunities for photography.

SLurl Details

Meditation Mountain (Phasma, rated Moderate)