🏰 Tile generator

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red ring becomes one city quarter with exactly the same footprint: a closed block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder around its courtyard, under a continuous terracotta-tiled roof that follows the ring, with a ridge along each run, gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows facing the street, and a tight contact shadow — one connected block, not separate houses. The tan hole inside a ring is that quarter's courtyard: packed earth or cobbles, sometimes a well or a tree. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are STREETS of packed earth — never walls, and never a gate: this tile has exactly one wall, the pale band with a toothed rim where the city meets the grass; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from a camera hovering exactly over the CENTRE of the tile, so every structure leans outward, away from that centre. A building in the upper half shows the wall under the upper eave of its roof; one in the lower half shows the wall under its lower eave; left and right the same way. A city wall always shows its outer face, the side turned away from the tile centre toward the field, and its merlons stand along that outer edge. No structure ever shows a face turned back toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are the streets of the town; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from the very centre of the tile looking outward, so everything leans away from the centre: on a wall you see its OUTER face (the side turned away from the tile centre, toward the field), and a building on the left of the tile shows its left flank while one on the right shows its right flank. Nothing shows a face turned toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are the streets of the town; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from the very centre of the tile looking outward, so everything leans away from the centre: on a wall you see its OUTER face (the side turned away from the tile centre, toward the field), and a building on the left of the tile shows its left flank while one on the right shows its right flank. Nothing shows a face turned toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each closed red ring = ONE city quarter: a block of houses joined shoulder to shoulder all the way around a small inner courtyard, under one connected tiled roof with many gables, dormers and chimneys along it — never a cluster of separate small houses. The tan lanes between the rings are the streets of the town; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down over the GROUND: the map is flat and a road is the same width everywhere. Structures are shallow elevations seen as if from the very centre of the tile looking outward, so everything leans away from the centre: on a wall you see its OUTER face (the side turned away from the tile centre, toward the field), and a building on the left of the tile shows its left flank while one on the right shows its right flank. Nothing shows a face turned toward the tile centre. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one connected tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses. Two red blocks that touch at a corner are ONE L-shaped or T-shaped building with a continuous roof around the corner; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one connected tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses. Two red blocks that touch at a corner are ONE L-shaped or T-shaped building with a continuous roof around the corner; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one connected tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses. Two red blocks that touch at a corner are ONE L-shaped or T-shaped building with a continuous roof around the corner; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob. Nothing is ever drawn on top of a road: no wall, no building, no village crosses it — a road runs unbroken from edge to edge or to a gate.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track exactly as wide as the pale strip in the layout (about a tenth of the tile — never thinner than drawn) with soft wobbly edges and a faint darker fringe where it meets the grass; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner with only city between them, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner; where a strip of grass runs between them into the corner, keep that grass open all the way to the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no building where there is no red block, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the buildings; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red block = ONE continuous row building: a terrace of houses joined into a single body under one long tiled roof, with several gables, dormers and chimneys along it and the facade on one long side — never a cluster of separate small houses; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Every tan area is city ground, even a narrow tan strip along a tile edge: that is a separate small city, so paint it as city ground and never as grass. Where two wall lines converge toward a tile corner, continue them so they meet exactly at the corner. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each red block becomes one long medieval row building with exactly the same footprint and orientation: a continuous terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge along its length, several gables and chimneys spaced along it, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and small windows along one long side, and a tight contact shadow — one body, not separate houses. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house, and a row of touching red rectangles = a TERRACE of houses sharing side walls, to be painted as one connected block with a continuous roofline and gables toward the lane; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house, and a row of touching red rectangles = a TERRACE of houses sharing side walls, to be painted as one connected block with a continuous roofline and gables toward the lane; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house, and a row of touching red rectangles = a TERRACE of houses sharing side walls, to be painted as one connected block with a continuous roofline and gables toward the lane; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground; a plain blue area = water, a river or lake with a soft painted surface. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is a lived-in mix of warm packed earth and cobbled squares, with a small fountain or well and a few trees between the houses; the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is warm packed earth (not paving); the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is warm packed earth (not paving); the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each pale ring with a slate-blue centre = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip, no tower where there is no pale ring with a blue centre, no shield where there is no blue-and-gold shield. The wall has no opening anywhere except at a dark blob.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers, seen straight from above, are a pale stone ring with a slate-blue cone whose tip points at the viewer; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is warm packed earth (not paving); the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each dark circle with a blue top = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs with a shaded side; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is warm packed earth (not paving); the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each dark circle with a blue top = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs with a shaded side; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is warm packed earth (not paving); the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; each dark circle with a blue top = one round tower (paint every one of them); a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = trees, never towers or buildings; a blue-and-gold shield = a small heraldic coat of arms lying on the ground. Only what is in the layout exists: no gate where there is no dark blob, no city where there is no tan area, no house where there is no red rectangle, no road where there is no pale strip.

Now paint it as finished, richly detailed board-game artwork in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles, keeping every shape exactly where it is. Each house becomes a real medieval house with the same footprint and orientation: a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a visible ridge line and tile texture, a small chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall with dark beams and a tiny window on one long side, and a tight contact shadow. The wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs with a shaded side; the gate becomes a dark round arch with a wooden door; the city ground is warm packed earth (not paving); the road a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; a dark circle with a blue top = a round tower; a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = TREES, never towers or buildings. Only what is in the layout exists: if there is no dark blob in the wall there is NO gate, if there is no tan area there is NO city, if there is no red rectangle there is NO house, if there is no pale strip there is NO road.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; a dark circle with a blue top = a round tower; a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = TREES, never towers or buildings. Only what is in the layout exists: if there is no dark blob in the wall there is NO gate, if there is no tan area there is NO city, if there is no red rectangle there is NO house, if there is no pale strip there is NO road.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; a dark circle with a blue top = a round tower; a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = TREES, never towers or buildings. Only what is in the layout exists: if there is no dark blob in the wall there is NO gate, if there is no tan area there is NO city, if there is no red rectangle there is NO house, if there is no pale strip there is NO road.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above. Read it literally: green = grass; tan = the ground inside a walled city; the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall; each red rectangle = one house; a dark circle with a blue top = a round tower; a dark blob in the wall = a gate; the pale strip = a road; lumpy green shapes on the grass = TREES, never towers or buildings. Only what is in the layout exists: if there is no dark blob in the wall there is NO gate, if there is no tan area there is NO city, if there is no red rectangle there is NO house, if there is no pale strip there is NO road.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the city ground stays packed earth in a warm tan (NOT cobblestones, no paving pattern); the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a rough LAYOUT of a Carcassonne board-game tile, seen straight from above: green = grass, tan = the ground inside a walled city, the pale band with a toothed rim = the city wall, each red rectangle = one house, dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark blob in the wall = the gate, the pale strip = a road, green discs = trees.

Turn this layout into a finished, richly painted board-game illustration in the style of the official Carcassonne tiles. Keep the layout exactly: the grass, city ground, wall, road and gate stay in the same place with the same shape, and every red rectangle becomes a house standing exactly there with the same footprint and orientation. But PAINT it properly: each house gets a gabled terracotta-tiled roof with a ridge line, a chimney, a sliver of cream half-timbered wall on one long side and a tight contact shadow; the wall becomes coursed pale stone with small square merlons along its outer rim and a thin shadow at its foot; the towers get conical slate-blue roofs; the gate becomes a dark round arch in the wall; the road becomes a sandy track with soft wobbly edges; the grass gets a soft painted mottle with a few tufts; the trees become round lumpy canopies with a shaded underside.

The view stays straight top-down: the ground is a flat map, buildings are small shallow elevations showing mostly roof. No global light direction, only contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Edit this Carcassonne tile illustration. Keep every region, wall, road, gate and building exactly where it is; do not move, add or remove anything. Change only the drawing convention: raise the camera to straight top-down so the ground becomes a flat map with no perspective, shrink the buildings to small shallow elevations showing mostly roofs and only a sliver of wall face, make the city wall a thin pale band with small merlons seen from above, remove any global light direction and long shadows (keep only tight contact shadows), remove any frame, border or vignette so the art bleeds to all four edges. Muted yellowed greens, pale sandy roads, tan city ground, terracotta roofs.

Image 1 is a SCHEMATIC of a Carcassonne board-game tile, drawn as a flat top-down map: green = grass, tan = city ground, the pale band with teeth = the city wall with merlons, the red rectangles = houses (roofs), dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark arch = a gate, the pale strip = a road, small green discs = trees. Every shape is already exactly where it must be.

Paint it as finished board-game artwork WITHOUT moving, adding or removing anything: keep every shape, edge and position of the schematic exactly. Give the grass a soft painted mottle, the road a sandy texture with slightly wobbly edges, the wall pale stone coursing with the merlons as a small tooth profile, each house a terracotta roof with a ridge and a sliver of cream wall, the towers a conical slate roof, the trees a round lumpy canopy. Drawing convention: the ground stays a flat top-down map with no perspective; structures are shallow elevations seen from very high up. No global light direction, only tight contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a SCHEMATIC of a Carcassonne board-game tile, drawn as a flat top-down map: green = grass, tan = city ground, the pale band with teeth = the city wall with merlons, the red rectangles = houses (roofs), dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark arch = a gate, the pale strip = a road, small green discs = trees. Every shape is already exactly where it must be.

Paint it as finished board-game artwork WITHOUT moving, adding or removing anything: keep every shape, edge and position of the schematic exactly. Give the grass a soft painted mottle, the road a sandy texture with slightly wobbly edges, the wall pale stone coursing with the merlons as a small tooth profile, each house a terracotta roof with a ridge and a sliver of cream wall, the towers a conical slate roof, the trees a round lumpy canopy. Drawing convention: the ground stays a flat top-down map with no perspective; structures are shallow elevations seen from very high up. No global light direction, only tight contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.

Image 1 is a SCHEMATIC of a Carcassonne board-game tile, drawn as a flat top-down map: green = grass, tan = city ground, the pale band with teeth = the city wall with merlons, the red rectangles = houses (roofs), dark circles with blue tops = round towers, a dark arch = a gate, the pale strip = a road, small green discs = trees. Every shape is already exactly where it must be.

Paint it as finished board-game artwork WITHOUT moving, adding or removing anything: keep every shape, edge and position of the schematic exactly. Give the grass a soft painted mottle, the road a sandy texture with slightly wobbly edges, the wall pale stone coursing with the merlons as a small tooth profile, each house a terracotta roof with a ridge and a sliver of cream wall, the towers a conical slate roof, the trees a round lumpy canopy. Drawing convention: the ground stays a flat top-down map with no perspective; structures are shallow elevations seen from very high up. No global light direction, only tight contact shadows. No frame, no border, no text; the art bleeds to all four edges.