These Neighborhoods are usually in large alleyways. Along the walls, there are “boxes” or Cotes stacked up. Each one will have an entry (usually a small round door) and a porch. Each box/ cote will range in size from a shoebox to a large bread box (suitable for 11-12 inch humanoids). The larger boxes cost more. They are either status symbols for smaller folks or requirement for larger ones (like cat and rat kins). The traditional arrangement is a level or three of large boxes, boxes then grow smaller as they advance up the wall until they reach the middle, where they start to be larger. Then there will be two to three rows of large “penthouse” boxes at the very top (usually where there will be sunlight in the alley).

The ground of the alleyway has the atmosphere of a market or faire. Here items and food appropriate to the size of the “neighborhood” are sold, usually by people of the same size. (The items are sometimes made by crafters of the small size OR by bigfolk and sold through their agents here).  Since half the people in a cotery are nocturnal, the market goes on all hours of the day and night.

If is often illegal for BigFolk to enter said alleys, to avoid accidentally assaulting WeeFolk. In fact, often the little people hire giants or large folk to guard their alley. (The Huge Folk understand about living in a world not of their size, and they take great pleasure in breaking the people who violate the law).

The Artisans District is home to the large, half shell theatre the Lorantos Theatre. The theatre is named after Lorantos Trugeone, a famous bard who was invited to the city and never got around to leaving. The theatre was built on a commission from the royalty when a trend in supporting the fine arts was prevalent.  Although the arts aren’t coveted as they once where, the rich and noble make a show out of going to the at least one of the many shows that are held throughout the summer. It was made from plans he himself drew out and was completed in time for him to give the very first performance. It was a memorable recital of the Three Kings of Antolog which is a favorite in these parts. He died soon after.

Because of the theatre, many aspiring actors and bards are found throughout the streets, practicing and entertaining as street performers trying to get a noble to sponsor them. Very often there are travelers from other cities on behalf of their nobles in search of fresh entertainment.

The Artisan District is also a popular place to visit for a lunch or dinner due to the fact that there are few pestablishments that do not have live entertainment available. The class of patrons is usually upper with a dignified stint to it all but there is also plenty of backroom entertainment if you know where to find it.

The district slows down in the winter months when most of the lucky entertainers move on to reside with the nobles and rich that have sponsored them, but in the spring time it always picks up once again.

At the end of the summer, one of the most talked about events is the Parade of Silk. It was a tradition started by The silk trader, Aston, who hired a group of entertainers to parade down the main road swirling silk that the he provided. The parade ended at the doorstep of Aston’s Silk Shop where he had ready large displays of his imported silk. It was such a success and Aston did so well from it that he started sponsoring it every year. After awhile it took on a life of its own. The traditional route is still followed and Aston’s offspring are still selling their silks, but it has grown to a large gawdy affair with anybody who has a silk joining in creating a wonderous kaleidoscope of colored silk along the entire parade route.

Magic can only legally be practiced within one area of the city, with the caveat that no spell effect can exceed the boundaries of the area. To do so invites either death OR stripping of one’s powers.

Some people are considered innately magical so they can not leave the district without the magistrate’s permission and a witchhunter guard.

The district gets its name by the good sized walls that are painted a bright blue that mark the magic district.  There are blue lines painted parallel to the wall at each of the three district gates.  Taking the Azure boundary to heart, many of the people who live in the area have taken to painting their roofs cobalt blue as well. 

Inside the district, there are three areas. 

Along the main roads, shops and shop fronts of a bizarre variety can be found.  There are alchemists, spell sniffers, book sellers (mundane and otherwise), scolliers, fortune tellers, curse mongers, healers, pyrotechnics experts, professional spell casters, candle makers, mirror crafters, magic tinkers (using little spells to fix/ clean/ tweak things), talismongers, shops filled with strange and unusual (catering to the needs of the area) and a purveyor of exotic/ magical animal parts.  There is also a shop that re-sells things from the main market, for those that will not leave the district.  Several of the braver food carters make a daily journey to the district fountain plaza, to sell their wares quickly to the natives here. 

In all the but the eastern section of the district are the homes of the magic folk.  These homes all have an antique charm of an older district, but they have interesting elements that sometimes scare mundane neighbors. Magelight lamp posts, illusions in the windows, glyphs of power and alchemical symbols upon the walls, and odd paint colors are some of the more tame additions to the homes. 

The eastern section , where there the gate has been blocked, is the less desirable section of the district.  The homes are more rundown, and usually broken down to apartments. Some of the creatures live here and in the undertunnels (but within the azure district).  Some are homeless, others haunt the few green areas there.  There are a few pubs here, where brew and others entertainments can be found.  While most blue folk won’t mention it, but this is the area where you can “know a guy, who knows a guy” who can get you dark and black magic spells, components, and items.

When the old burghers’ hall was first built, inns and guildhalls lined the streets leading to Ambassage Court.  Grave and somber men came daily to discuss the business of the city there, inspired by monuments of the city’s founders.  In the warm sunlight around the great fountain, merchants and guildmasters planned the business of the great city.

Now, of course, that day has long passed.  Only the most wizened of ancients remembers the great plague that swept through the city and inspired its leaders to move their halls from the city centre out to the new “Palace District”.  As far as most of the quarter’s denizens recall, it’s always been the decayed, half-ruined labyrinth that they call “Bassage Market”.  Nonetheless, it’s still one of the city’s great centres of business; just not business on such a grand scale…

The once-wide boulevards now are crowded with the stalls of raucous costermongers, merchants dealing in “questionable” goods, and hawkers urging passerby to taste mysterious pleasures.  Ancient Gypsy crones, unwelcome in many parts of the city, here boldly offer to foretell one’s future and offer mysterious charms and elixirs to guarantee true love and doom to their clients’ foes.  Helpful lads offer to show slumming nobles ‘entertainments’ that they’d not soon find elsewhere.  Crowds gather to see the tricks of trained bears and monkeys and the narrow paths between the booths are often blocked by the carts of vendors and entertainers. 

Rarely is the Watch seen in the market’s mazes.  The meager handful of watchmen willing to enter the district are brutal men from a hard school, with little room for compassion or sympathy. Little better than the ruffians they arrest, only fools and the truly desperate call for their aid.

The marble halls of the great guilds are still home to aristocrats… of a sort.  The smiling saints that decorate the faded façade of the Whitesmith’s Hall now beam down on the faces of passing mendicants as they enter.  This once-grand structure is now home to the “Temperate Brethren of St. Lucia the Charitable”, a minor religious order that seeks to do good works and give shelter to the impoverished.  Of course, those familiar with the city know that most locals refer to it as the “Cripples’ Guildhouse”.  Inside, the woman called “One Leg Petra” rules the local beggars with an iron fist.  Any of the quarter’s beggars that refuse to offer her fealty will soon have cause to regret it.  The demoralized monastics of the Temperate Brethren have discovered that they too are pawns in “Dame Petra’s” games of control.  They learned too late how she had twisted the charity they offered into a way to cement her control of the local poor. The situation has defeated them: If they go to the Watch for aid, those most in need will shun them, but if they allow the situation to remain, then Petra and her henchmen decide who gets any charity they can provide. Afraid that the order would lose the meager funding its patrons allow, the Abbot has chosen the lesser of two evils and prays daily for deliverance from his dilemma.

Across the square from the Whitesmith’s Hall, the “Free and Notable Sisterhood of Courtesans” hold their guild meetings in the carefully maintained halls that once held the city’s moneychangers.  They make little effort to control non-guild prostitution, instead trying to ensure that their customers get only what was asked for.  Diseased strumpets (if obvious) and disguised men are rapidly sent packing.  The careful attention of the “Sisterhood” guarantees that the local bordellos treat their girls properly;  they have enough “dirt” on local authorities to guarantee that a procurer who mistreats his staff is visited by the Watch on one of their infrequent rounds.  If lesser measures fail them, the guild’s members will certainly ask a few of their “admirers” to set matters right.

Several gangs of thugs share an uneasy truce in the quarter.  All agree that the market square is “neutral ground”, but the winding paths in and out of the area are often the site of vicious brawls among rival groups.  The swaggering rogues that lead these gangs are a colorful (if threatening) sight, as they wander through the market, each surrounded by goons and hangers-on.  The most violent of these gangs, the “Mud Dogs”, is well known for the wild parties held in their lair, where dogfights are held to enliven the festivities.  The locals don’t dare even speak against them, as many an unfortunate has been fed to their vicious mastiffs as the “guest of honor” at one of their revels.

Down a dark and gloomy alley leading from the marketplace is an ominous structure, the manse of “Doctor Mirabilus”.  He is the secretive head of the city’s “resurrection men”.  These grave robbers provide cadavers for any who ask, with no questions asked.  While only a handful ply this ghoulish trade, their reputation for necromantic power keeps the credulous local thieves at bay.  While their mysterious powers are subject to debate, it is certain that the good doctor knows many things that others believe hidden.  He can often be seen through the large windows of his home’s upper floors, apparently conversing with the empty air.  Some have even reported hearing the spirits of the long dead whispering secrets to the cadaverously pale doctor.

Beacon’s Hill is a two and a half century old downtown residential neighborhood situated directly north of the Common and the Public Garden. In size, it is approximately one mile square, bounded by The Old Beacon Street, The New Beacon Street, Cambridge Street and WesternKing Drive. It is filled with red brick buildings that harken back to an earlier time. In fact most of the buildings reach back to two and a half centuries. (The law requires that new buildings in the area “fit in”. These red brick buildings are not the only ones in the city, but they are the most “proper”. They are known for its beautiful doors and door surrounds, brass door knockers, decorative iron work, brick sidewalks, perpetually-burning oil lights, flowering pear trees, window boxes, and hidden gardens.

Beacon Hill contains a South Slope, a North Slope and a Flat of the Hill. Wayler’s Street is the neighborhood’s main street and is filled with shops and craftemen. The City House, the center of city and regional power, is at the top of the Hill overlooking The Commons. All one needs are within walking distance. Wayland Street neatly divides the North slop of the Hill. It has all the basic shops and those catering to those of stature.

Cambridge Street, just off the Hill, is also the home of the venerable White Hall, The center of Healing Studies for the region.

A block over is the square three story building that is The First’s Library, a public library. The building does have a central courtyard flanked on all sides and two archways, echoing the fine colleges of the East.

The City House is the top of the hill. A rambling mansion of a noble (Du’Carte) who fell out of favor after the revolution that installed our current noble bloodline, is where the local lords and assembles work on law, taxes, and administration of the region.

Southside and down is the Commons. The Commons has seen it all, Messiahs, drilling rebel troops, drilling loyalist troops, Master Bards, a Dragon (Guthlag), hundreds of children swimming in its Frog Pond, and hundreds of City Folk skating away the winter.

On the Old Beacon Rd is The Garden: It is one of the oldest botanical gardens in the Land. The 24-acre Public Garden offers Swan Boat rides upon its placid pool. It is known to be one of the most romantic spots in the city.

The Beacon is south of the hill, down a small peninsula. The Beacon keeps the shipping lanes safe in and out of the harbor.

Biblos (Book) Quarter

The Great Library’s name is still officially "The Cathedral of Knowledge" even after the Reformation.  This huge, multilevel structure is now run by a secular priesthood of scholars, many of whom live in the old priest quarters (in fact, until recently one or two of them were priests of the old temple).  It is the cornerstone of the Colleges that are found in the quarter.  The Colleges have sprung up since the Reformation, as the inadvertent monopoly the Temples of Knowledge had over education ended.  Education is no longer ritualized and centered upon classics.  Now free exchange and exploration are the central ideas of these new colleges.  Magic is now, tentatively, being taught in public.

The area around the Great Library has become specialized in supporting the Great Library and the new colleges.  Papermakers and Stationaries are found in this quarter, as well as BookBinders. Inkmen actually make a fine ink in the area. The Ink of this city is well known across the land.

The quarter is filled with book sellers and scroll mongers. In fact, this is the majority of businesses here.  If the library was not enough, you can get newer books than those found in the library. And since the Library is no longer allowed to have religious works, bookstores and small libraries containing these works are more prevalent than you would expect.

There are a dozen shops of Scribes and researchers, who will find and make copies of things from the Great Library for a modest fee. The will also do other scribely duties, including reading to illiterate folks. Translators have set up shop here, so you can get papers in any language here.  (With the presence of translators and foreigners here, as well as free thinkers/ radical, some say the spys hang out here as well. 

A few scholars who make a living teaching nobles or at a College, or have retired from said profession, seem to congregate in this area.  The few streetside bistros in the quarter, are filled with lively and scholarly debate as well as excellent pastries and tea.  

It is strange that the most athletic of professions, the courrier is also centered in this quarter. These young madmen are suited to the urban environment, as they have been known to "bounce" around walls, terraces, bridges, dodge traffic, as well as run the city streets. There are dozens of "stables" here where human runners wait for assignments.  These speedy runners (or riders for longer deliveries) deliver things of all sorts in the city and the surrounding areas.

Thank you SE.  While Ideas are great, full write ups are better.

The city has some great bridges, awsome works that span the large and gentle river that flows through the city. To prevent the river from overflowing, the river bed was dredged and the river sides were given steep deep banks (50-60 degrees) of hard packed earth reinforced with stone.  Decades after the project began, the city was totally safe from flooding. 

In the shadow of the bridges, the poor and destitute - the "Sad Folks" - huddled. As the city thought itself properous, it took steps to keep the "sad folks" from public view.  With no where else to go, they climbed down the steep sides of the new riversides. They used the workman’s and dock stairs to reach the river side. At first they stayed in the old workman’s sheds and the few docks still left.

Time passed. They made "trails" and pathways along the banks at various places.  These connected their "villages" or clusters of folks. These tiny shanties slowly built up the side of the river. It was all very "polite", kept from the view of "good folk" by the steep walls. (You could only see them from the other side… but since rich people do not live near the river… due to the occasional smell… nobody of importance complains about it). 

As some of the bridge builders fell on hard times (no more city money for grand projects meant all those imported masons and builders were unemployed), the villages stopped being collections of tents and ramshackle buildings.  Over the years the shanties were reenforced with left over bridge materials and other scavanged materials. (They knew were everything was left by their now abandoned projects.) The squats became real buildings built into the side of the banks, with real roofs, floors, and foundations. 

Bridgeshadow filled a nitche in the city. It was where all the "things not discussed" were politely kept. This is not a crime laiden area, filled with shadowy figures and assassins on the lam as some would expect due to the shadowy nature implied by the district’s name.  It is a place filled with "questionable" businesses that the overly proper people of the city publically decry, yet secretly need.  Bridgeshadows has a few taverns, a couple of pawn shops and money lenders, rooms of ill-repute, places where questionable vices can be satisfied, and a theater or two.  In short, it is the place where all the "things polite people do not discuss" in the city can be found.

As wealth flowed into the district, the buildings along the river banks became more and more substantial. Money has purchased a bit of respectability and real "foundations".  In addition to the narrow steps leading up and down the district, there are cabled carts that lead from the top and barges on the river that travel the district carrying people to and fro. There is one "cabled gondola" that crosses the river from one tavern to its made on the other bank, but that is more of a novelty than a useful mode of transportation.  Now "polite" people do not live in this district, but real people, some of the quite well off, do.

It should be noted that there are few "sad people" here anymore.  The increase in relative properity of the district has driven the very poor out of the district that they made. A few hang on around the edges of things, but most try their luck in other areas of the city.

The Bridges district is one of the last districts developed in the city.  Originally it was a rough area: fifteen steep hills, deep ravines, and two “lakes” (which are sink holes that often fill in with water). Most people saw it as an area to “go around”, a blight that interfered with a more perfect civic plan.  

Originally some poor people “squatted” in the hills. They lived in a few ramshackle shacks here and there on the hills or in the ravines. They never stayed over long as the weather and the conditions often made them move on.  However, some more enterprising souls took to living in the hills as well. Searching “cheaper land” they built real buildings on the hills. The city, needing the money to pay for other “grand projects” like the concert hall simply accepted it. The people began to properly cut the trails along the hills that had been used infrequently through the years.  Some were even paved and reinforced. Along the way steps, often stone but sometimes packed reinforced board steps, were made leading up to houses or to various trails, where convenient to link with existing city streets. 

As the story goes, early in the building period, the Hallens and the Corbens who lived on two facing hills were joined by the marriage of their respective youngests. Since travelling down the hills, along the ravine, and back again was long and difficult, the two homes were linked by a long rope bridges, creating the first of the bridges that the district has been named. 

The idea caught on. Soon dozens of bridges linked various stairway streets and trails. The building boom began, the number of houses dug into the sides of the hills exploded. 

Nearly a century later, the Bridges District is completely filled with homes and businesses linked with cat walks, stairs, bridges, knotted ropes, basket systems. This “blight” has become one of the things the city is famous for (in addition to The Quadrangles, The Blue Flag’s Game Field (like 1478), The Sky Tower (an ten story building with its famous elevating platform - based on the lifting baskets of the Bridges District) and The Grand Temple).

The city adapted and so did the people. The children in the district (and limitedly the rest of the city) are adept at
running on rooftops, down cables, and bouncing off buildings. This leaping and bounding is called “bouncing” by the locals. (Thus leading to a slew of slang related it, “To Bounce” is to go, “To bounce with a partner” is to be intimate, “bad bounce” (to go splat or have a terrible event), and so on.). In fact some of the greatest acrobats in The Lands have roots in the Bridges district.

For those that are on foot and in good shape, cutting through the Bridges district can halve the time it takes to cross the city.

Coastside Park—the ultimate haven away from urban chaos—was deeded to the people over one hundred years ago out of the prescient notion that the city folk would one day feel overcrowded. The city has spilled over three sets of defensive walls and is now reaching water to water on its hilly sandy peninsula. This foresight proved invaluable.

Coastside is one of the largest parks ever made by human hands, over 1000 acres of trees, grass, manmade ponds and lakes, and other plants. Most parks capture existing nature. The less than ideal sandy soil and scrubby trees have been augmented by tons of soil and more proper plants.

Finding the land was the easy part. Someone still had to make grass and trees grow out of sand dunes blasted by harsh oceanside winds. The person to do it was McLaren. He arrived in the city because it was such a crossroads. Given his skills and touch, he had established grass, trees and numerous plants in an environment most thought too barren for lush foliage. He purchased the park with a huge sum he had won in a game of chance. 

The first buildings came with The Midwinter Fair, a sprawling expo and carnival meant to boost the economy and increase tourism. There have been lesser fairs since then, but never one like this. The world was invited. Author’s Note: The first fair/ event to increase tourism and the economy was in Genoa in 1320. The City wanted to prove that it had culture—so a fine-arts museum was built. To prove that outdoor activities could be pursued, horse stables and vast, unlandscaped greens were preserved. And to showcase the exotic and quirky atmosphere of the City and to show how cosmopolitan it was, several theme areas were developed, including a Nihkon garden, an Orcen range, and a small Valdian Hometree.

The fair succeeded at what it set out to do. An untold number of people visited The City, business boomed and locals found renewed pride in their formerly sand-covered park. Today, the only remnants of that enormous event are the King Arthetian Memorial Museum, the Nihkon Meditation and Tea Garden and the Music Concourse esplanade.  What remains today is a testament to the will of the City to preserve a place to play, relax and grow culturally.

Getting Around: There is a large number of horse drawn and people drawn cabs that swarm across the park’s roads over the weekends, as well as holidays. During the week, there never seems to be one around when you need it. There is a stables here and a number of horse trails.

East Side:
The Park’s main entrance is a Triumph Arch dedicated to the glories of The City, rather than a specific military victory. Following this road west will take one to the city center.

Conservatory of Flowers: Just down the road from the concourse, towards the east side of the park. Since the fair, locals and visitors have marveled at The Conservatory of Flowers, the oldest glass-and-wood Victorian styled greenhouse in the Western Hemisphere and home to more than 10,000 plants from around the globe. It has been said to be so beautiful that it brought a tear to the Elventi prince’s eyes. Located beneath the conservatory dome, the warmest and most humid section of the building, is the conservatory’s prized century-old imperial philodendron and a child sized Hometree.  The east wing houses the Highland Tropics collection and aquatic plants display (including real lily pads that can hold the weight of a small child), while the west side is dedicated to seasonal flowering plants and educational exhibits (the first, all about plant pollination, features 800 live butterflies that will flit about among the visitors.) There is a slight fee to enter the buildings.

Garden of The Bard’s Flowers: Designed only fifty years ago by The Mad Playright (who sunk the last of his wealth before his death to make it) to honor the plants and flowers mentioned in the Bard’s poems and plays. Obsessed fans can play “name the work” as they pass each of the 150-odd specimens.

Buffalo Paddock: Small herds of bison have made their stoic presence known since the early yeas, when the park was a free-range zoo of elk, bears, goats and other animals. The Buffalo were sacred animals to the natives of this region that were displaced by Civilized Folk. Keeping the animals here is part of the treaty with the surviving natives. If the animals are not kept, all the land reverts to them, Next to one of the three Lakes.

Portals of the Past: A front porch standing without a house, reflecting in a still lake below—that’s all that remains of the royal home destroyed in the Great Disaster. It is the only public memorial to the disaster in the City.

MidLands:
Academy of Sciences: Found in the Middle of the park, just off the Music Concourse and Pavilion, it is a marvel. Though the building is a touch dated, it was built to look “like something from the future” over one hundred and fifty years ago, it has a distinctive style that other similar institutions now copy. Insides there are “classes” for low ranking classes, a taxonomy lab, a place of natural history with skeletons and displays of almost every animal known, an observatory, a thaumaturgy exhibit, and the largest sundial known to man. Once a summer, inventors, tinkers,and mages bring their best and most interesting new toys, tools, and processes for the Academy Fair.

Music Concourse and Pavilion: At the far end of the concourse is the Pavilion, a large band clamshell, large enough to hold a large band or a play. The concourse has many long walkways, with well manicured grass between them. The summer concert series is sponsored with crown and city funds. The winter concerts are very cold but quite fine.  In the spring, the concourse holds a modest sticksword contest.

King Arthetian Memorial Museum: This classically design building hold one of the worlds largest public collections of art. It occasionally hosts “visiting art embassies” from other nations, that stop here on their way to the capitol. No weapons or sharp objects are allowed here and there is a fee to enter. It is across the concourse from the Academy.

MidLands West
Nihkon Mediation and Tea Garden: Many people’s favorite part of the park, this was originally built as part of the sprawling Midwinter Fair. It is in the northern and middle western part of the park. Nihkon traders frequent the port and feel part of this odd city. When The Fair occurred, they felt indebted enough to the city to create an example of their lands. They built a small temple with several gravel “ponds” where the patterns of existence can be contemplated. This walled in area is an intricate and private complex of paths, ponds and a teahouse features plants native to these foreign lands. Hidden throughout its five acres are beautiful sculptures and bridges.

The Golden Archery field lies just north of the newly made golf course. The course is surrounded by tall burns for better viewing and the stopping of the odd shot. The annual competition held here draws people from many places around the world.

Golf is the newest court fad. The game consists of whacking a small ball across the game field into a small flagged cup. A solid seven hole course has just recently be made of one of the great meadows on the far west side of the park.

Tennis: A tennis building with three courts is just east of the new Golf Course. This fad has been replaced by the Golf Fad. This game of tennis only has a net in common with that know of most modern peoples, there is a net and a racket. Think of it more as squash with a net instead of a wall, where bouncing off the walls and off the sides of the buildings is okay.

The Keysaren Area is a field where a number of events are held. (The description for The Field is submission 1478) The Keysaren area is a huge version of this field, able to hold large tournaments and affairs. The “front” is much longer than the one in the field.

Picnic Grounds: There is almost nothing more pleasant than a sunny day picnicking in the park. There are a dozen of small meadows and places that are good for picnicing. There are places with tables and small firepits near the ocean side and far side of the park.

Ocean Side:
The Oceanside Park beach is fairly nice area if you want to watch the surf and the occasional sea dragon swimming along the coast.  Between the

Between the sandy beach and the picnic grounds, surrounded by trees is a wind mill. This windmill was “family property” of a trader who came from overseas, but made his home and his family here. He brought the windmill over and had it rebuilt. It still grinds grain and klah to this day.

Beach Chalet: This two-story building lurks over Ocean Beach and houses some of the best murals in the city. The frescoes were done by Lucare, a famous artist, and portray people of the City in various stages of play. Upstairs, in the bustling pub run by the same family for over eighty years. It is quite upscale and the prices reflect that.

Dame Ellenius’s family has quite a long and prestigious pedigree, links to reigns of power, and a great deal of land spread around the Country.  They are also tied to the Elven Nobility as well, as Ellenius’s mother married an Elven Lord’s son.  Many of the household thoughout the Country are in positions of importance and have an adventerous aire about them. 

Such is not the way for Ellenius.  Dame Ellenius has lived in this house for decades now.  The story as for why varies, having passed into local legend, but all of the stories agree that it has something to do with a broken heart (lost love to duty, a bitter break up, a love lost to war/ trouble/ his wife).  Given her genetic make up, she will be living in that home for a century or more. The house is a good sized affair, with a huge amount of grounds surrounding it. (The family wealth will support her in a modest way indefinitely.)  In fact, the home has two sets of walls, one out side all the grounds, bording the city around it, and inner walls setting off the personal gardens and house from the large estate. The walls are quite formitable, so only those skilled can actually climb them.

The inner gardens are well tended and quite formal. Few see it, except by stealing a look between cracks in the gate.

The outer gardens/ grounds are also maintained by an army of short foreigners (inset odd race if needed). While not a formal garden, there is little open space. The grounds are private noble property and no one of a lesser rank should be there, yet no one that has not harmed the gardens or anyone else physically is turned out.  Given the lovely and romantic nature of the gardens, its lovely seculuded benches and nitches, it is commonly used by lovers and couples. 

Those who would use it for clandestine meetings of a non romantic nature often find themselves being watched by one of the short foreigners.

The Embassy Quarter is a unique section of the town.

The wall surrounding it is nearly larger than the city wall. There is a special road that leads from a main gate to this quarter’s gate. That special road has almost no side streets, and the backs of buildings face it. It is the private road for embassy staff. There are Guardsmen at the city wall and at the two embassy quarter gates. It is nearly an armed city within the city.

This large outer wall also has a thick blue line and some arcane runes to keep spells from travelling out. It also has a Purple Line, a royal demarcation, showing the limits of The Law. Nobody just “cuts through” this section.

In this area, it seems to be nothing more than more walls and gates. However, in this walled off area, foreign dignitaries can rule a small section of the quarter as if it is their own country. Admittedly these little annexes are just within the walls of their compound, but within those walls they rule.

Each of the Countries that trade with the Kingdom has an embassy here. Since these countries do not always trust each other, each embassy has some fairly sturdy walls (often patrolled) seperating them from the others. At the gates of their compounds are often “border” guards, who often treat the entrace as if they were borders.

Inside the compound walls, it is like you step into another country.  Except for when climate prohibits, the architecture is always based upon that country. Each compound has an appropriate mansion and outbuildings for one of the status of the envoy to the country. There may be some farming here as well, in an attempt to grown “local foods”. Here they may have slaves, small contingents of warriors, or practice foul magics, or do their blood rights, for here… they are soverigns.

Navigation inside the Embassy Quarter is tricky, as it seems to be nothing but big walls are large gates. It is only the decorations of said walls that help define what is behind them. Once you cross into the embassy quarter (or into one of the compounds) you are no longer covered by The Law. You are at the mercy of their law. And if you were inside uninvited or not an envoy of a country, you may be considered a spy (and to be interrogated and killed in the most painful fashions imaginable).

The siege was bad, and with fire decimated a large part of a town. As life returned, the abandoned ruins were teared down, new laws against fire raised the taxes for most houses, depending on the number of their stories. A few Hobbits have returned to their roots (so to speak), and built their holes as in old times. Naturally good in agriculture, and close to a needy market, the business proved lucrative, and soon other farmers followed their example.

The neighbourhood is a sort of village inside of a town; however, due to many thieves and poor people nearby, fences are everywhere, and to have several guarding dogs is a must. The neighbours have seen little movement in the last few decades, so everybody knows everyone else. While generally friendly, ‘outsiders’ are instantly suspicious, and many tend to ask of one’s intents while here. In these parts, trespassing can’t be a mistake, so watch out where you tread.

While travelling through an unfamiliar area of the city at night, it it easy for one to become quite lost.  Though this is an upper-class residential neighbourhood just east of downtown, the streets wind, twist, and turn in upon themselves in a rather chaotic fashion.  Mills Park was built in an area of the city where the level of the ground was quite close to the level of the water table.  This means that there are many small lakes and ponds.  Couple the water features with the age of some of the older houses, and you have a neighbourhood where there are no straight roads. 

Though these homes are quite nice, and very lovely to cruise by during the day and gaze upon, there is a sense of forboding and sameness when the fog crawls up at night.  Most of the roads have no street sign, and those that do are typically either hidden by trees & shadows, or list only one of the pair of roads at an intersection.  There is no naming scheme to the streets in the Mills Park area:  no numbers, no themes (such as all names of trees), or even any control over duplication of names.  It is rather chaotic.  Thus, Thornton Avenue dead-ends in a cull-de-sac, but begins again on the other side of the large yellow home at that end.  Gabrial Street is well-lit, and looks to the weary eye like an escape from the hours of wandering about Mills Park, but it is another trick:  Gabrial Street turns upon itself in a large “P” shape.  Mills Avenue itself is especially tricky—there are three of them—in addition, there is a Mills Street, Mills Parkway, Mills Court, and yes, there are two different (yet perpendicular) streets named Mills Lane.

The streets are narrow and winding, buckled in places where ancient oak and cedar trees have spread large roots under the roadway.  The endless clack-clack-clacking of your tires across the red bricks, the fog clouding mind as well as vision, and the ever increasing sense that you would not make it out of there again—much less find your destination—dulls your senses and very will to live. 

This chaos among the large homes and tall trees can be quite disorienting.  When you cross the intersection of Mills Lane and Mills Lane—yet the last sign you passed said you were on Hopp Court—and when you are certain that you have passed the same area several times—although you have travelled as straight a line as possible—you become quite certain that you have either stepped out of your normal reality, or are becoming quite mad…

Centuries past, in the Bizzannite city of Ardales (Ar’-do”-lez) nestled in the Jabal desert valley, a massive tower was built.  It was hailed at the time as being both a magnificent piece of art, and a triumph of Human engineering.  As the wealth level of the inhabitants increased, the Emir declared that nothing within two miles of Ardales Tower could exceed two stories tall.  Or course, since that measurement was ill-defined, the wealthier citizens began building homes and businesses with as tall a roof as possible.  This lead to a further refinement of the maximum height law, punishable by having the building in question demolished, as well as additional fines paid.  While the aristocrats could no longer compete in height with one another, they did not want to be seen as having the smaller building.  As a result, nearly every large structure was built to nearly the exact same height. 

Alas, time affects all things.  Though the air in the Jabal valley was quite dry, the wooden beams of the Ardales Tower eventually decayed nearly to the point of collapse.  Scaling the Tower was now forbidden due to safety concerns, and visitors were not even allowed at its base.  Time finally took the Tower in the form of a fire 120 years ago.  As the original artist/architect’s plans were lost in the intervening years, and most realised that a new tower would be merely a copy, the Tower was never rebuilt.  However, the old edict limiting the height of buildings within that two-mile area was never repealed. 

Improved irrigation was brought into Jubal Valley, in large part because of increased fears over more fires.  This new water allowed the wealthy landowners of Ardales to grow personal gardens on their flat rooftops.  The shade helped cool the buildings, and competition renewed among the aristocracy for the lushest garden.  Over time, the increased population caused an increase in building density, especially in the city’s heart, where the Ardales Tower once stood.  New aqueducts were constructed, leading straight from the nearby mountains, across tall pillars, and into the gardens of these wealthy citizens. 

Today, a traveller approaching Ardales can stand at a mountain pass and gaze down onto a solid sea of green in the heart of the city.  The gardens seem to mix and flow into one another.  As it is relatively simple to step from one building to another—and across wide and short bridges spanning the streets—to the traveller’s vantage, it seems as though it is a large park, rather than the roofs of many buildings.  It is only when one looks further, to edge of the garden area, does the illusion vanish.  Walking through the downtown streets of Ardales, one is cast perpetually in shadow.  The harsh sun is filtered through leaves, vines, trellises, and arching bridges.  The gardens (althought it may now be more accurate to not use the plural) are far above—40 feet of open space separates the streets from the plantlife.  The buildings themselves are striking, made from the native white stone, and built with tall pointed arches and collumns.  2nd storey balconies stare down from some homes, even these are 20 feet above.  The air is cool, dark, and damp; a welcome respite from the sun bearing down on the surrounding city.

Not that long ago, a pack of Gargoyles returned to a place of spawning. When they returned, things had changed. Nestled in the rocky hills was a city of some strategic and economic importance.  The Gargoyles were slightly perturbed with these interlopers sitting on their holy ground, though they did provide some taller places to perch.  After a short debate, the Gargoyles decided on a compromise, they would take a small nesting area, that the natives had already walled off, and leave the rest for the fleshy things. It will only be for a few decades they thought.

That was many decades ago, the new eggs will hatch in just a few more.

The Grey District was a walled off inner district of the prosperous city. It several guild halls, two smitheries and glass works with tall chimnie, and held a temple with a clock tower. One night, the Stone Gargoyles swooped down and killed all those on the street, and took to killing those in houses whos windows spilled out light onto the street.  The next day, the few survivors scurried their way out of the district.  Those who made much in the way of noise as they scurried were attacked.  Humans outside the walls were left unharmed.  (Except if they made an exceptional amount of noise, then the gargoyles would take to wing and attack the transgressor).

After several attempts to repulse the Gargoyles (who are nearly immune to magic, have rock hard skin, and superhuman strength and speed), it was decided to cordon off the area.  Laws were also passed about how much noise one could make in the adjacent districts.  The district wall was painted with a gray stripe, similar to the one that marked plague.

Of course some people would not leave the district.  Those Grey People as they were called never went out at night and blacked out all windows so they would not shine light at night.  They are a quiet folk, realizing that a good deal of noise will bring sudden death from the ever observant Gargoyles.  They have a language of gestures they will use for most things.  Soon the poor and a few others trickled back into the district.  While not as prosperous as it once was, it is a living district once again.

One thing the peoples of the city have noticed, that night time theiving has drop significantly.  The Gargoyles seem to be "picking off" the transgressors no matter where they are in the city.

There has been a city on this site for centuries. Cultures/ societies have come and gone, but the city site remains as it is a crossroads.  Those gone by have left their marks upon the city. The city has grown and fallen numerous times.  The last time, it was nearly destroyed, yet a few pieces remain. 

The Empire of the East had taken this city as its farthest border. The Lands of the West, waging war, took this city and a few farther East, enhancing their own borders. The wars were brutal and left little of the cities and very few people.

Harland is all that remains of the city before, other than the remaining pieces of the defensive wall. The survivors of the sacking of the city a generation or two ago took to this area, and their descendents are still here. The neighborhood is not marked by walls, but by a change from the Western style buildings. The buildings here are square and flat roofed. They are of the local tannish stone without plaster. The streets are crushed pavestones and quite crooked. If the streets and neighborhood were just stone, this neighborhood would be quite boring and colorless.  As it is, the neighborhood is filled with color and sound.

Those of Harland (the name of the city before the sacking), protect themselves from the hot sun with brightly colored awnings and similarly colored billowing curtains. The flat roofs support tents and other awning. Those street side awning protect those hawking their family’s craftwares. Since the language of Harland is the Musical sounding Qua’tan language, vendors hawking their wares sound like singers in an opera to the others int he city. The general babble in the street adds to the chorus. (The people of Harland are gregarious and loud among their family and their own kind). Women in house courtyards and roofs actually sing while doing their chores. This all adds to a festival like atmosphere to the dour neighbors in the city. Since the cooking of spiced meats and rices is a common family craft under those street awnings, it even smells like a festival here.

Hy-Pointe or “High Point” gets its name for being the highest point of the city. The Pointe is also the name of the signal tower (now in disrepair) that stood on the hill. This watchtower gives a commanding view of the surrounding lands. A pity that it is only used by lovers, kids, and curious people.

It is a mixed area, businesses and homes. The neighborhood is middling, not rich, nor poor.  Most of the businesses on this triangular shaped hill include Hy-Pointe, Hy, or Cloud in their name, so Hy-Pointe Inn, Hy-King’s Tavern, Hy-Clayworks, and Cloud Silver Works. The people usually work on the hill at the numerous shops and works.

There are a few businesses by The Pointe. The Hy-Pointe Inn, a small temple (the only establishment not called Hy something, as calling itself the Hy-Temple would be blasphomous), and the Hy-Pointe Scriptorium where scribes copy manuscripts for others.

The Houses (and other buildings here), are narrow, long, and usually dug into the hill. They are one to two level shoeboxes, if shoeboxes had been invented yet. Each block forms a tier that faces out towards the lower city.

The streets are straight and paved. They run mostly parallel along the hillside. The sidewalks are almost all stairs. The few roads that go up and down are quite steep only go up and down each tier. This means one has to zig and zag up the hill to reach the appropriate tier.  The local kids make a good penny by carting stuff up and around the hill.

This little quarter of the city is a quiet one. It is where the “other people” live, those who do not have enough numbers to “take over” a given district in the city like The Orcen or The Chinese. It is a quiet district where many languages can be heard. There are several small temples and shrines here, to Gods and cults “less worshiped” in these lands. The shop signs and windows have two, sometimes three languages on them… often relying on pictoglyphs to express what they are. There are even schools and academies teaching in odd languages or odd skills. There is a modest building where a small indoor market is held most days, the stalls catering to their local ethnic and racial groups (very few non-humans live here…. it is mostly small groups of humans from other lands).

The unspoken rule is live with each other or else. This district has had “punitive” actions taken against it before, as the city would rather these people not be here or if they are here, to “fit in” better. So the city council is looking for excuses to purge or annex the district. 

The Locals provide most of their own services, lamp lighting and fire brigades.  The locals work together to keep the peace, rather than counting on the Watch (which normally ignores them). So peoples who are “at odds” in the world at large often work together here. If the peace is kept, there will be no reason for the Watch OR the city council to poke into their business.

Note 1: There are more windows here than in the rest of the city.  Glass craft is a true artform in other lands, and those glass crafter shops are here. They give the locals a discount to help beautify their homes.

Note 2: Given the windows, this district uses clay and wax food in the windows to show the menu. This is a characteristic found only in this district… though many have commented upon it and might use it in their normal restaurants.

It seems odd to a number of travellers that several towns and cities along The Marches have small neighborhoods with the same name. Odder still is that most of these "neighborhoods" have very similar looks and shops. Some of them are called d’Rex, some Keya, some Keya d’Rex. It has a Kelchen ring to it, but it is not Kelchen that anyone knows, but there are not many Kelchen speakers in these parts…(see Kelchen - insert a foreign country that had holdings in this area a long time ago). They were awarded these far away and foreign lands via a peace treaty, but never did much with them. They attempted to civilize this frontier with little success. They have either lost the territory to someone else’s conquest or traded the territory away for considerations with other countries.)

The name is Kelchen in origin. It comes from the phrase "The Royal Majesty’s Most Beautiful Road". One of the few things the Kelchen did was to link all the various town and villages (now cities and towns) of their territory with one long road.  In some areas, the road was little more than a trail, while in others it is actually paved between cities. It was always paved in the towns and villages. This road used to be the most important in the region, but new town centers and new needs have minimized its impact.

Each Keya d’Rex neighborhood there is a single long main street… an older business district. If not the "central section" of the city or town, it is normally not too far from it.  There is usually buildings one block in either direction that are considered part of it.  In each of these neighborhoods there is an inn/ tavern, a general store (or a building that used to be a general store), a theater (usually associated with the inn/ tavern), one or two small chapels/ temples, and a messenger’s guild post. Depending on the size of the neighborhood, there will be a few other common businesses along the street. In the one block on either side of the street there will be older homes of a distinctive style (For those that care it is a neo-classical look that was extremely popular in Kelchen at the time mixed with the local styles).

These neighborhoods used to be the center of their respective places, but a hundred or so years of grown and development (as well as new countries owning the various regions of the Marches) has robbed them of that.

Some additional throughts…
The main things to take away from this post are two fold.

2) The details can very, but the basics remain. Insert anything you want into the history pieces. However, these roads will create "stopping points", which will develop into towns and cities over time. These stopping points will be old "city" centers that are normally superceeded by other roads and other needs of the population.

Given the Calderonians (The Griffon riders of the floating city), the Lyran skyskips, and the Dragon Confederation representives, there is a great deal of flying around the region.

The skydock began when the Lyrans had to put down in a storm in the MaCaferi clan’s field (which was just outside the city then). Given the less clement weather of the lands, they could not hover above the city.  Befriending these exotic people and seeing an eye for profit, the senior MaCaferi began building the SkyDock.

The Skydock is an enclosed tower 8 stories tall. On top of the tower is a strong blue lamp, that reminds many of a lighthouse’s lamp.  Skyships moor themselves to the dock and passangers can either walk down the internal stair or pay for being ferried down by a sky skiff. 

The enterprising MaCaferi clan has put together a small inn, a cafe (selling Lyran food), some warehousing, and a taxi service about the dock. The city has rented a building there, where port inspectors can be stationed. There is now a short wall around the field, keeping people who have no business there out of their (MaCafri) business. 

The griffons that the Calderonians ride presented special challanges to the city. Where do you stable a griffon? After a few “incidents” when they were left on a rooftop, housed in a corral with horses, or left in a barn, something needed to be done.  The MaCaferi clan started to build a Covey, the griffon equivalent of a barn. The Covey here has thirty stalls. Each level is 10 stalls wide, with the next level built on top of it and back a bit (kind of like a sports field stand).  The Dragon Confederates have taken to staying in the stalls (though they are a tight fits).

The clan is expanding one of the covey stalls, one Confederate is spending more and more time in the city.   Goralllllll (one of the Dragon Confederates) is becoming a fixture at the skydock. He likes watching the flying things, the flow of people, and the occasional chats he has with the travellers.  He is thinking about moving in some of this stuff here. 

The SkyDock has been a fixture in the city for two decades now.  In fact, the city has grown up and around the skydock field (what was once a few minute ride is now a simple walk from the gate).  Alan, the current head of the clan, is planning on putting up two more docks. He has a deal (on the sly) with the city council to keep his monopoly over sky travel services. The MaCafri are practically a new guild.

Merhood is a river side neighborhood, just behind the docks. It is one of the city’s original neighborhoods, so all the buildings have a patina of age and signs of rebuilding.

It seems like every street is slightly uphill. The streets are cobblestone and morter, with a mix of heavy moss that has only been partially scrubbed off by dilligent homeowners. The streets are not overly narrow, just a bit dark. All the buildings are heavily plastered multistory affairs. Some of the lower levels have cobblestones and morter waist height.  Almost all the doorways are several feet up from ground with broad stairs introducing them. Ground level windows do not open.  The neighborhood has many balconies, some of which lead into elaborate foyers. Neighboring houses often have arched walkways between then on the second or third level. Many of the large homes have large patios on their roofs.

The oddness of the neighborhood is the result of the river’s water level raising and lowering over the years.  The ebb and flow takes about seven years, from slight puddles at the floating docks to the submersion of the first floors in the neighborhood.  During wet times, sleek and small canoes ply the “streets”, with the occasional water carriage or full sized boat being found. During the dry times, carters pull carriages along the narrow streets for the dainty or rich.

If it was not for the city’s stance on tradition (and prohibitively heavy taxes on the buying or selling of property outside one’s family) these homes would of been abandoned or been a slum. However the founding trading families built homes here decades ago and have adapted in a fine fashion since then.

This section of the city shows the city’s roots as a medieval/ primitive town.  Surrounded by the original city walls, Old City is filled with heavy stone buildings. The buildings here are different from the rest of the city. They look like they were part of an ancient castle or fort, or built in the age when the city was on the frontier of civilization.  

There are no wood buildings in Old City as fire after fire after other disaster has destroyed everything that was not permanent stone.  The buildings are solid, secure, and tend towards a gothic look. There are towers, spires, heavy walls with arrow breaks, and supporting buttress. There are gargoyles and other grotesques on top of every building.

Old City is practically a town unto itself.  It has its own little market area, its own water, and its own marshal.  The families that live there have lived there for several lifetimes, if not centuries. 

There are two important buildings in Old City: The Main Temple and the Mayor’s Office. 

The Mayor is the administrator in charge of the town, as appointed by the King and the Town Council.  He runs the day to day affairs here, doing what is best for the city, despite what the Town Council might think.  The Mayor’s office is somewhat cramped for the modern mayor and is difficult to get to, but tradition (and the budget) dictates that this is where the Mayor works. (It also has the advantage of keeping the Mayor in an inconvenient place so he can not interfere with the council). 

The Cathedral (or main temple) is the oldest single structure in not only the city, but the entire region. It could house a good portion of the city’s populace within its walls. It has been built up and improved upon over the centuries, until it has become the central location of faith for the region.  Splendid is not the word for this giant monstrosity of gothic architecture. Massive is.  One of the reasons why it is the center of faith is the fact that it is soooo large and has supporting outbuildings for administers that work for the church.  Other cities are trying to build main temples as impressive as The Cathedral, but to date, none of the projects have yet to succeed (though some are not near complete).

One would expect the narrow dark streets of Old City to be haven for the criminal or violent elements.  The streets of Old City are actually the safest of any in the city.   The Cathedral has a troupe of Gargoyles living on its roof.  Real, mythical Gargoyles. 

These near immortal creatures of living stone are territorial and nocturnal.  Due to some ancient agreement, the Gargoyles are allowed to live here AND allow fleshlings to live here.  They sleep during the day mostly.  They seldom stir from their perches during the night.  They have the patience of a stone, and a point of view that years are but minutes of life. They do not move, fly, or speak without a true need.  Their senses are so inhumanly powerful that little goes on in the Old City (or even in the New City) that they are not at least peripherally aware of.  Many crimes in the Old City (and occasionally some in other quarters) are stopped by a swooping Gargoyle, usually with the guilty criminal never to be seen again. 

If anything threatened the Main Temple/Cathedral or the Old City, even in the daytime, the Gargoyles would defend their home area.  Since not even an elder dragon can withstand a troupe of gargoyles (according to the legends), no normal army should stand up to them. 

Very few people know of the existence of the Gargoyle protectors. People have heard the legends, but monsters don’t exist any more.  The local guardsmen wear Gargoylish helmets while on duty, though few believe why.  The Mayor is often advised by a Gargoyle in times of trouble. Some times directly, but most of the time by the Grey Priest. Since the first church here, there has always been a priest, or young alterboy who will grow up to be a priest, who will often go up and talk to the Gargoyles and occasionally hear them talk back.  The Grey Priest is their mouthpiece to the world and their encyclopedia of fleshling ways they don’t understand.

Old Town is just that, the original village/ town center. The city started as a trade junction between the river and the local region. It expanded as a waystation for river travelers and those who transported goods. The city had humble beginnings, but soon blossomed. New docks were built. A new marina/ harbor dug out. New roads were created to service them. The city grew away from Old Town.

Yet the buildings are still here. The paint is often peeling on the out buildings, but they are still filled with businesses. Old Town continues to live.

The buildings here along the river are made of brick, accented with wood. They have wood roofs for the most part. While many of them have basements, they are seldom used. The river has a problem of rising every few years and flooding out the area. That is why the streets in this area are all paved with bricks. The sidewalks are wooded boardwalks and raised a good foot from the street level.

The buildings also have a great deal of glass in them as well, some of the largest windows many have seen, some a good four feet across and eight feet tall. While windows of this size are found in the rest of the city, this was the first place that windows of this style were made.

Old Town is mostly filled with places of low repute, drinking, gambling, and the occasionally wenching goes on here. Such things were here to entertain the original stop overs; and have been run out of the rest of the town. There are some shops, some of which are quite exotic, and a messenger’s guild stop.

The North part of Old Town has the old Brick Factory, the source of all the bricks in this region of the Land.  Next to it is the glass factory (the two share a common furnace and smoke stack). Here some glass craftsmen from far away set up shop at the beginning of the city. They have made the huge windows and marvelous mirrors that have made the city famous.

Not far from the Most Noble Compound, just down the Western Gate street in fact, is a small square plaza. Nothing faces the plaza, only the backs of buildings. In the center of the plaza is The Bell. The large iron bell is hung from and covered by a small slanted roof held up by four pillars. These pillars rest upon a square raised foundation. There are small stairs that lead up to the level of foundation, leading from the direction of the Western Gate Street. The foundation also has four strong iron loops towards the edges. If one does not know the two traditions, this arrangement makes no sense.

First, no one is allowed to do harm to those of Highest/ Imperial rank, those of the Imperial household or those related within two steps of blood. One can take no hand  to them. The second tradition is an executioner must be of a higher rank than those he executes.  This leads to “issues” when someone tries to harm a member of the Imperial clan or when those members are subversive.

The Bell resolves these things. The “criminal” is simply laid under the bell, secured by chains to the rings. The bell is then rung. And rung. And rung. Relays of guards maintain the rhythm. Over the course of a day or three, the person under the bell dies… untouched by human hand. The power of the sound is what kills them; neatly resolving the issues of those who can not be touched.

The bell is also rung (once and with nobody chain underneath) to mark certain holidays and special events in the Most Noble Compound.

Somewhere towards the mountains, something subterranean tunneled after some prey. In the process of the hunt, it collapses an underground waterway. Water then found a new way.

Later…..

In the city, the two large eastern quarters changed.  The soil became damp for reasons beyond divination. Larger buildings began to slide slowly into the earth. It is a relentless, decades long process. People simply adapted.

In the beginning, the wetness was only a slight dampness. However that dampness went to the bones of the Earth. Most buildings sank a handspan or so. A few buildings toppled, most slid into the soft ground fairly evenly. New wooden boardwalk sidewalks butted up to newly raised doorways.

With the moisture came other problems. Regular scrapings kept the mold at bay. Walls were thickly plastered to keep out the moisture. The bigger the building the farther it sank. Handspands became cubits. Soon doors were added to the second stories, with stairways leading to the boardwalks. First story windows and doors were bricked over, to keep the mud from sloshing inside.  Every building in the district now has a basement that was once the first/ ground floor. Third and fourth stories were added. Bridges were built connecting family buildings.

In some places there are second tier walkways, some two stories above the muck level. After two generations of sliding, some enterprising people build tile lined tunnels to cross the streets at the original ground level. 

The sinking has created a new profession… Muckmen.  The Muckmen wear small barrels on their feet, allowing them to move across the muck without sinking.  Muckmen are messengers, builders, tunnelers, and any other job involving moving things across the muck.

In all the lands of the Free Cities, there is nothing to compare with the architectural marvel that is Regency Boulevard.  The centerpiece and crown jewel of the citys Palace District, this elegantly-conceived thoroughfare was designed in the aftermath of the great plague that had ravaged the Free Cities in the previous century.  Although it took a lifetime to complete, few would claim that the time was ill-spent.

This beautiful promenade owes its genius to Master Thraso Burgage, the most prominent architect of his time.  He had the vision and drive to tear down a portion of the old city walls and lay out a wide roadway running between the businesses of Guilders Court and a new palace built over the ruins of the archaic keep that had once dominated the citys horizon. 

Master Burgage envisioned a route both wide and stately, gently curving along the hill below the new palace.  Each side of the road was lined with realistic statuary depicting ancient heroes and champions, and the grand buildings along its length house the citys great guilds, prominent temples, businesses, and the mansions of the powerful, each an elegant structure built of the creamy white stone favored by the local nobility.  Tiles fired of the pale, golden clay found in the region cover the roofs and form fanciful roundels on the buildings façades. 

Houses of the Guilds
These mighty structures are monuments to the authority of the regions influential merchants and tradesmen.  Solid and imposing, the most prominent guilds in the land make their homes in these palatial buildings.  Organizations housed on this street include the Ancient Brotherhood of Masons and Stonecrafters, the Liberal Association of Colliers, which controls the importation of coal in the city, the Ironmongers’ Guild, the Humane Union of Woolsorters and Dexters, and the Merchant Adventurers.

Most prominent among these guildhouses is that of the Ancient Brotherhood of Masons and Stonecrafters, which Master Burgage ensured was constructed with particular attention to detail.  The current guildmaster, Anders Storron, is one of the most powerful men in the trade-dominated city.  If rumor can be believed, the elderly quarryman dictates even to the King himself and has connections in every corner of the land.  The intricately carven stonework of the airy structure contrasts sharply with the battered clothing affected by even the most prominent guild members.  While the members of neighboring guilds look down their noses at the unsightly attire of the industrious masons, none can gainsay their far-reaching influence.

The Liberal Association of Colliers, which began as a humble organization seeking to protect miners from the abuses common to that hard trade, has risen in influence and power as the people of the Free Cities grew more dependent upon the miners toil for their fuel.  Their leader, Bevill Rodesson, is a deceptively youthful man that exudes upper-class arrogance.  While he has tried to forge alliances with the lesser guilds to protect his guilds newfound prominence, he lacks the diplomatic acumen needed for the task.  Aristocratic landowners and mine operators throughout the region have recently demanded concessions from the guild, and few expect Rodesson to remain after the resulting showdown.

Only the most prominent of guilds maintain their guildhouses on Regency Boulevard.  A number of less influential guilds have been forced to settle for simple offices within the buildings of other, more prestigious organizations.  The notoriously corrupt Ancient and Honorable Fraternity of Millers and Simnelers is one such group.  These folk, frequently named in connection with the regions seediest and most unsavory business affairs, have somehow repeatedly been denied royal authorization to purchase any of the elegant buildings that line the boulevard.  While their reputation may daunt the lesser officials of the area, those surrounding the Crown were offended by the guildsmens clumsy attempts at intimidation and have decided to stonewall them indefinitely.

The Public Houses
Several taverns and alehouses are found along the length of Regency Boulevard.  These businesses each share several characteristics:  They are clean, well-staffed, and grossly overpriced. 

The Sauvage Tavern is easily recognized by the life-sized painted wooden statue of a robed desert dweller wearing an odd Sallvian headdress on its roof.  Apparently copied from a fanciful woodcut representing the sauvages of that distant land, this colorful statue is easily spotted from hundreds of yards away.  Located quite near the quarters of the Crown Guards, the rank and file of the Guards have been forbidden entry (after numerous brawls and altercations), so it has become a preferred watering hole for the palace servants and the staff from the High Court of Justice.  Several local officials have tried for years to have the garish statue on the roof torn down, but the proprietors friends among the clientele regularly misplace the relevant documents before the magistrates can act on them.

The Buxom Queen Alehouse picked up its sobriquet from the rather creative portrait of the 5th Century Queen Inatta hanging above the door.  Although the formidable woman was known for her beauty, the sign exaggerates her virtues out of all measure.  This alehouse has become the preferred gathering place for members of the Crown Guard.  Although they are a well-behaved group (by military standards), the innkeeper is currently involved in a suit against several members of the Guards over the destruction of his fine front windows of clear bulls-eye glass.

The Two Dragons, a large and well-appointed establishment, is adjacent to the Golden Crown Playhouse.  Co-owned by several of the Playhouses backers, it has become popular with the patrons of that place, who frequently gather at the Two Dragons before attending a play or to eat afterward.  While the theatres staff are offered a discount on the food to encourage their attendance at the tavern, few of the actors can afford even the reduced prices.

The Golden Crown Playhouse
Further up the avenue, nobles and guildsmen alike flock to fill the seats of the Golden Crown Playhouse.  Commonly known as "The Cock Pit", this theatre is actually quite sumptiously appointed.  The structure’s leaky roof has large panels that may be removed to let in sunlight and fresh air when the weather permits.  Sturdy benches fill the galleries where the merchants and guild members are seated; the loftier galleries are filled with comfortable chairs for the gentry.  The structure’s floor offers what is perhaps the best view, but is most subject to the weather’s vagaries.  It is crowded with the "groundlings":  apprentices, students, and workers that pay only a penny to see the bawdy comedies and other plays that delight both noble and villein.  The theatre’s master, Baldrick Fallnose, is notorious for his determination to import the finest talent available for his stage, even if he must search every bawdy house and low tavern in the city to achieve his goal.

The Embassies
Regency Boulevard houses the citys embassy from the Hegemony, a bellicose empire to the east of the Free Cities.  This heavily-fortified structure is home to a large staff of diplomats and functionaries (most of whom serve as spies) with a number of guards and soldiers.  Its exterior has been remodeled extensively from the original designs of Master Burgage, with carefully considered bands of bas-relief sculpture added to the buildings exterior walls.  These decorative strips celebrate great works of the old Empires most famous emperors, showing them planning aqueducts and conquering savage barbarians.  One who examined the bands in detail would clearly see their message, the idea that the Empire brought peace and plenty wherever it ruled.  Since the Hegemon regards himself as the obvious successor to the old emperors, the arts implied message is clear.

The Hegemony is known for its subtle diplomacy and cruel manipulations, and the embassy staff exemplify everything they are famous for.  Their leader, Lord Karrehler, is as subtle as he is shrewd.  A mage of no small ability, he surrounds himself with numerous small enchantments of protection and persuasion.  Even without his magical abilities, the physically-unimposing man is a formidable diplomat, armed with encyclopedic knowledge of the region and an impressive command of oratory and rhetoric.  Few emerge from his presence unimpressed by his powers of persuasion.

Several members of the embassy staff are agents of the Hegemonic Inquisition, grim clerics known for their careful investigations.  These quiet inquisitors keep extensive records of suspected heretics that have fled to the Free Cities from the realms of the Hegemon.  They look forward with cruel anticipation to the day when the Hegemon forces the Free Cities of Terrock into his empire and these heretics face the justice that they have previously eluded. 

Additional offices found on the boulevard include the embassies of several of the other minor kingdoms of the balkanized peninsula.  Each of these places tends to have a small staff of courtiers and diplomats, whose time is generally taken up with matters of trade.

The Crown House
While the Crowns financial affairs and the business of government take place within the Office of the Exchequer in the palace, a great deal of the realms income is generated by the licensing of moneychangers and the Crown House, one of the most powerful banking houses in the region.  First established by an alliance of prominent guilds, and then given preferential legal status by the King, this financial house provides financial services for many of the most powerful guilds and organizations in the Free Cities.  While a number of competing banks exist, the monarchs of neighboring regions have largely come to accept the dominance of Crown House in financial circles.  These rulers now receive considerable amounts of revenue in exchange for the near-monopolistic legal advantages they are able to offer the bank.

Crown House, despite its prominence, does not maintain massive hoards of currency on the premises.  Much of the money in their care is distributed among other banking houses and secured within the vaults of royal strongholds.  What currency they do possess is carefully secured, however, with formidable physical and magical wards and guardians.  One of these mysterious defenses is believed to be a gigantic animated sculpture within the magically-sealed depths of the bank.  This massive golden statue of a ferocious dragon-winged lion physically swallows much of the money and regurgitates it upon demand from the banks officials.

The High Court of Justice
The Citys High Court of Justice is a building of pale stone, decorated with a frieze of the ancient goddess of Justice administering judgment upon the wicked and avenging the righteous.  Before the buildings large courtyard, a massive statue of King Senach the Lawgiver stands, its traditionally stoic face looking somewhat dyspeptic, as if his digestion had been disturbed by the passing attorneys and lawspeakers. 

Within these halls, a number of the regions Lawspeakers sit court, led by the infamously harsh Malvo Crewlbatter, the Provincial High Lawspeaker.  He is ably assisted by his pallid and unpleasant clerk, Parrick Woolcozen, who ensures that the cases brought before him are worthy of his attention and diverts other cases to lesser courts.  Many are glad to escape the judgment of Lawspeaker Crewlbatter, whose detailed examination and remorseless punishment of malefactors is legendary.

The Cathedral of St. Guinan the Dolorous
Immediately adjacent to the palace, the impressive tower of the Cathedral of St. Guinan the Dolorous can be seen.  The churchs interior is everywhere adorned with wondrous artwork, commissioned by Bishop Wenzel in the early years of his appointment.  Quite an esthete, this busy churchman surrounds himself with the beautiful and elegant; he is the patron of some of the lands greatest artists.  The Bishop drives himself and the clergy under his supervision with as much energy as he devotes to the art he loves; his harried underlings can often be seen as they hurry about the city, busy on various missions for their demanding bishop.  Bishop Wenzel is not known for leniency; those failing in their duties to the church will be sternly brought to task, whether their failing was as minor as missing services one morning, or as severe as neglecting to tithe properly.

Ironlord Hall:  The Quarters of the Guards
Across from the Cathedral lies Ironlord Hall, the headquarters of the Crown Guard.  A walled stronghold appended to the palace, this small garrison quarters the picked troops of the palace guards.  Within the compound, several buildings provide housing for the troops and their mounts, ranging from Ironlord Hall itself, which is used for housing officers, to various barracks, stables, and support buildings.  Each of the buildings has been given an appropriately warlike name, but most of the structures are known by absurd nicknames:  For example, Courageous Hall is better known as Cawage Hall (in memory of an unfortunate incident with a lisping nobleman that addressed the troops).  The whole walled compound is generally referred to as Ironlord Hall, but members of the Guards will invariably refer to it as The Stronghold.

Although the fortifications of this garrison are significant, their placement would allow a force holding the palace to easily reduce the attached stronghold.  Master Burgage took no chances that his design would be used to launch a coup attempt.  He planned the garrison as a solid base for a force dealing with civil unrest within the city, not a citadel meant to withstand a serious siege.

Newcourt Palace
Newcourt, the Kings summer palace, dominates the hill above Regency Boulevard.  Those comparing it to the beautiful structures and arches that line the rest of the boulevard consider it to be substandard, a building that tries to be all things at once and condemns itself to mediocrity. 

Newcourt was the final structure on the boulevard to begin construction, delayed for years by the Herculean task of clearing away the ruinous old keep that had previously occupied the site.  Before construction of the palace had begun, Master Burgages health had declined; his place was then taken by Mssrs. Thackrose and Thane, architects less interested in completing Master Burgage’s vision than in imposing their own ideas on the project.  These men made numerous changes to Master Burgages original plans, construction short cuts that would supposedly hasten completion of the palace. 

Unfortunately, Thackrose and Thane eventually proved to be as unscrupulous as they were vain.  Rumor soon began circulating that their "short cuts" had allowed them to divert massive amounts of money from the project, enriching themselves at the expense of the Crown.  It was rumored that their peculation was responsible for the shoddy construction that marred the structures hallmark façade, and even worse, they failed to fully clear the foundations of the old keep as originally planned.  Their shortcuts caused portions of the palace to eventually settle and crack, ruining many of the elaborate mythological frescos that decorated the interior.

It was some sixty years ago, a great flood on the river caused a lot of damage. The baron ordered masive works to be undertaken, to widen the river’s channel above its usual level. The “over-channel” spreads a few hundred yards on both shores of the river. This was to be a sufficient safeguard against any flood.

The river, with intensive fishing done upstream, is not much attractive here… moats filling it with all unpleasantness and filth of the city. With floods being somewhat regular, decent people, especially those with money would never move here. Logically, the poor people built their huts and shacks, creating a poor neighborhood where the lowest live.

Every five to seven years, the flood returns. And every time, some poor don’t manage to escape, or even forget, the drug addicts and madmen. The huts and everything is washed away, cleaning up the mess that was here… so thinks the average citizen. Indeed, most prefer it the way it is. No need to get excited, the Flood will sort them out. Some filth washed away, some more always shows up.

This Neighborhood is located on the down-stream part of the river, after the harbor and the few fisheries. The huts are freely strewn on the shores, ironically there is more free space here than in the crowded streets of the city itself. Most decent citizens never get around here, and even the guardsmen are sent here as punishment. Luckily, there is little crime and not much noise. It seems as if the locals are always waiting for their end.

Some time back, Orcen mercenaries were used to against the people of the city (and accompanying country). The Orcen are a semi-nomadic people, who would be considered barely civilized by most.  In a coup, the Leader of the time, hired many of said Orcen mercenaries away from the enemy army. Using the Orcen, they defeated the enemy and eventually drove them out of the region… recapturing their own lands and some additional lands the enemy had conquered. 

Between campaigns they were quartered in small districts in various cities.   The city people and the Orcen basically kept to themselves.  Tensions occasionally built up.  There was about to be a civil war over the keeping of Orcen forces. 

Then the Orcens in one city had a party.  It was more than a mere party, it was more like a festival. The festival was like one they had every year in their homelands, so they had an abbreviated version here. The main stay, besides the drinking of fermented blood and yogurt like products, was meat. Huge mountains of it, cooked on large metal shields over stoked fires. The meat is cooked with flavored oils and some vegetables, in a style unknown to the civilized lands.  At first the Orcen kept to themselves, but a few poor and crippled city dwellers cautiously asked if they could have some. Orcen honor could not let them turn away someone without showing them hospitality. Eventually others of the city joined in, some brought what little food they could share. Some one brought vast quantities of beer and things became more friendly. The Evil Orcens became people in the eyes of the city folk, and the Idiots of the lowlands became wimpy people in the of eyes of the Orcen.   The tensions were resolved for the most part.

The Army leader dispatched fast riders to various other cities, telling the leaders to tell their Orcen to have fun (and to discreetly ensure that people might goto the festival).  Thus, another civil war was narrowly averted by simply throwing a party. 

As the campaigns to drive the Enemy away wound down, more and more Orcens were released from contract.  Most waundered back to their ancestral lands.  A few found urban, civilized living to their liking. They opted to stay, just in case the government might need to hire them again. 

Most took local wives and settled down, learning city crafts or working for the Guard. Most could do metal and leather work anyways. Some even made traditional shields and cooking shields. They would have neighborhood festivals to help keep the peace as time moved on. 

So the Shield District is an old Orcen Mercenary Quarter. It is called the Shield District because Orcen always carried their shields. In terms of buildings, it looks the same as the rest of the town, perhaps a bit more run down.  The signs are both in Orcen and the Local tongue. The only differences are the Pits.

Pits are open areas where local Orcen have created “restaurants” where meat is properly cooked and fermented yogurt can be had.  Pits are usually one cubit (2 feet) deep areas of good size. Most have steps down into the pit, while a very traditional one requires you to jump or slide. While there might be a closed shed for storing food stuffs, they are mostly open air.  Some Pits are accomidating the civilized folk and have roofs on poles covering over the seating (for shade or some protection) and even some of the cooking areas. Each pit is centered around the large cooking shields. The seating consists of low wood benches and even lower tables.  Sharing tables, drinking with strangers, and singing badly all add to the experience. 

The Pits were once frequently only by Orcen and those of Orcenblood, but since they are so economical (good value for cost), many of the locals travel to the district to eat in them.  A few Orcen still have festivals for their building or street, but mostly there is one big city sponsored festival every year. 

As time has passed, the cities along the old border now have a strong regional cuisine based upon Orcen Shield Cooking.

Note: Orcen can be a distinctive ethnic group, or could be a species division.

From down the block, it appears to be yet another street, with the same kinds of building as those around it. Yet it feels perpetually gloomy.  Some say the street is cursed, but no mage nor priest has ever detected it.  But those of a dark disposition find themselves drawn to it. Those that live here always have a feeling of despair or depression.  The street (and environs) have become a slum of sort, an island inside the prosperous guild neighborhood it resides. It is the place where the lost dreamers go, and those with broken hearts. They drink and commiserate in the taverns that now fill the street.  There are many a cheap room to rent, as there always seems to be vacancies.

Of course there are ghosts to be seen. They appear in the corner of your eye, or late at night, or sometimes in the shadows.  The shades are those who have killed themselves in the area.  Some say they cause the depression, others say they are there to stop others from doing the same.  Either way, the street touches the otherside in a way that is not healthy.

In the south quadrant of the city, there are tall towers springing up from the squarish one to three story buildings normally found in the city.  These "towers of poles" are a good fifty or sixty feet tall above the roof line below. They are made of wood or bamboo poles spliced together, sticking up from the buildings below. On these tall towers of wood live the BirdFolk and other flying peoples.

These towers are tall, light, and topped with small roofs. Some towers have some lateral supports made of the same light wood/ bamboo. The towers of poles are light and designed to sway in the winds, but if they do break they are so light that there will be little damage below.

Strung between the towers of poles are tents of sorts that act as rooms and apartments. These "tents" are usually inside the tower, but some are strung between towers. Off the towers the various folks hang colorful streamers and flags. In addition to general decoration, the flags are used to mark "addresses", neighborhoods, and "pathways".

The "people"  live in "tents" of sorts strung between the rails and struts of the towers.  Since all the various skyfolks have little in the way of personal possessions, there is little weight in these towers. The only heavy rooms are the few skyfolk temples there. They are not much more than larger and heavier canvas tents with a few built in alters and braziers.

There is a tower standing tall from the south district gate. That tower has only one thing, a large hoop. This hoop marks the gate to and from this quarter. It is manned at most times. There is a token drop there, so comings and goings can be measured and a district ledger kept.  All the skyfolks are supposed to fly through the gate when they leave their quarter, so they can be in compliance with city law.

The skyfolks descend to the ground for the various other services they need.

An interesting city district could be one where halflings, dwarves and gnomes dwell - all the doors are four feet high, streets busy with merchandise as dwarves pound away in their workshops, halflings sew, cook and do carpentry jobs and gnomes tinker with magic and machinery. From the various dwellings, work-songs in foreign languages sound, tiny children run around frolicking and playing withj papa’s anvil, while a hundred inns offering specialities ‘just like home’ dot the place. The bridges are low too, and passages narrow, so all those agoraphobic dwarves feel comfortable. The dwarves build all walls sturdy of precisely hewn stone, while the halflings plant parks and paint the houses nicely.

This setting is unique in many ways - in an ordinary city, you turn a corner and seem to have grown, for all is diminutive. In all shops, there will be two sorts of wares - one for the small folks, one for the big ‘uns. Rowdy dwarvish inns might provide a place to brawl, or to get into lots of trouble by calling someone a lawn ornament, You can run afoul of a gnomish experiment gone awry, or try to chace a criminal ... on knees, as the low ceiling will not allow it otherwise. Of course, swinging a halberd, a greatsword or maul might b quite difficult in there! Not to mention the logistic difficulties of carrying a longbow!

The Stockman area started out a ways outside the city, a quarter days ride. It is to the east of The City, down the prevailing winds from the coast. The main way of the Stockman areas comes from the King’s Pass (RegalioVexia). The King’s Pass leads to Great Plains, a sea of amber grass with mild rolling hills and the occasional oak tree. Since the Plainsmen (Golbins and such) have been pacified and converted, the plains are open to greater usage by civilized people.  This has been a boon to the Stockman area, and The City attached.  While the Stockman area has grown, The City has grown out faster to meet it. 

The Stockman area is where Rancher’s stock is processed. Most ranchers are bringing in the furry and broad steer native to the plains, but some bring conventional steer in.  A team of ryders herd the stock to one of five paddocks. From there, they are sorted. Some are saved as auction stock, the rest are mere commodities unless a buyer has been arranged before they herd was brought in.  The animals are killed in the slaughter areas adjacent to the paddocks. Meat is taken and dried for transport. Hides are either tanned for leather or stretched to maintain the fur. Tallow is taken for candles. Jell (collagen) is taken for food purposes. Bones are ground to enhance flours or used in other processes. What little is left is chopped and used for either pig feed or fishermen’s chum.  These items are then shipped via ship to the old country.

(Dung from the paddocks is sold and caked for use as fertilizer.)

There are five paddocks in The Stockmen area. There used to be five important men in the Stockman trade, but now there are only two. Elgenius and Gordonus have forced the rest to sign over their paddocks to them, with Gordonus owning the extra one.  These two men will not stoop to open war or obvious sabotage, but underhanded business dealings is their bread and butter.  The hatred between these two men is good for the Ranchers, as it makes sure that good money is paid for each head.  These two men own all of or part of the businesses in the Stockmen area.  They may be the wealthiest men in The City.

The Stockman area has always provided services for the Ranchers and their riders.  There have been corrals, Horse tenders, blacksmiths, taverns, inns, bathhouses, red lamp houses, and a healers area. Homes to support the workers were built near by.  Services to support those people (stores and such) and the occasional needs of Ranchers and Riders followed.  The Stockman area would of become its own little town, except for the wealth that has flowed through the City.

Since the Soldiers and Knights who waged war against the Plainsmen needed fresh horses and supplies.  They tended to buy their supplies and horses in the Stockman’s district, rather than ride/ walk further to the City.  The creation of the Kingsmen Fortress at the far end of King’s Way, has eliminated most of the personal purchasing in favor for bulk purchasing by the Army. The flow of government monies enriched The City. 

Since the clearing of the Great Plains ten years ago, more and more livestock has flowed through the area. The pacified area has allowed more colonists to travel here. The farming, mining, and lumbar harvesting has made a great deal of wealth for the merchants involved, and a little bit for the people involved. The City has grown by leaps and bounds. It eventually has reached the Stockman area.

The Stones District was once outside of town. Though the town gave it a wide berth, it eventually surrounded it. 

All the path markers and various walls that face the district are covered with appropriate symbols of power to keep “Those of the Stones” in.   There are a few chapels in the district, all to make worship, dedication, and interment easier.  A few family final homes as well.

The Stones are all marker stones for the Dead and somewhat Dead of the area.  Given the local traditions, they are quite artistic in execution… more than a mere name, date, an deity dedicated too. There are statues and carved reliefs of deities, loved ones, totem animals, heraldic devices, and more.  The local laws limit the size of each marker (based on social class). However, the local craftsmen can make the most of the restrictions. 

The mausoleum and crypts are similarly limited. However, it only pertains to their upper dimensions.  The underground dimensions are unlimited, as long as they stay within the district and put no other final resting at risk.

While the district has a park like appearance in the day, it is deceiving.  Anyone with even a touch of the gift feels the “detached” feeling, an odd coldness during the night, the parklike appearance evaporates leaving a maccabe festival of shadows, spirits, and cold.

Note all rituals and layings are done during the day, nobody alive likes to go there during the night

While a spirit or restless dead are sometimes seen here, everyone knows the stones are not right. Rumor has it that there are mausoleum that connect to other places… places that the living should no go… to the necropolis.

This is the west most area of the city proper, all of it new growth beyond the existing city walls. 

It began with buildings along the sunset road, the road to the west.  As the paving of the road extended, so did the buildings and the new roads parallel to it and avenues perpendicular. Since the roadwork has been periodic and there have been numerous plans to create a new city wall to encompass the new buildings, westward progress has been slow. The creation of an Eastern gate has been the only city wall work done in some time.  The district is now nearly as wide as the city.  The sunset district is sometimes called the DawnShadow by the poetic, romantic, and the highly political, as the city’s long shadow at dawn is cast over the district. 

Filling those blocks has been town homes, tall, narrow, and long two story affairs. There is practically no space between them. Every bit of space has been used, since they expected to be stopped by a new city wall anyday now.  There have been a few businesses built along the way, most having to do with horses, wagons, carriages, and metalwork (business practically prohibited to be inside the city because of taxes related to them).  Multilevel horse barns/ carriage garages used to be the most common business squeezed between the town homes.  As time has gone on, and the population has grown, there are others (washers, cobblers, tailors, tea shops, furniture makers), but most of the district is residential. The district allows people who would of been merely taking a room to actually own a home, if they don’t mind living outside the city wall AND travelling into city for work. (Some enterprising carters are creating “buses”, bringing workers into the city and taking them home again.)

The bakers, also escaping old tax laws, have moved into the Sunset district en mass.  If you want a lovely loaf, buttery croisants, or any variety of bread (from any ethnic/ racial group), you have to visit one of the excellent bakeries in the Sunset District.  In fact, many of these bakeries deliver to shops inside the city (a marriage between a horsetrainer and a baker’s wife was said to be the origin of this shipping arrangement). 

The district has only one distinctive feature in their mind- The Reading Market. The Readings had one large carriage garrage not too far from the city gate. They lent (later renting) some of their land a few days a week during good weather to some farmers and merchants, so they could have a small market.  Fearful of serious talks to extend the wall (which would increase their tax burden), The Readings practically abandoned it, and created a huge facility outside the district boundries of the day. (Decades later, the city has caught up with it).   Now, the market people eyed the building now abandoned.  They first asked, “could we store our things inside”. The Readings said yes.  Unexpected rain looked to cancel the market, but the merchants simply set up inside.  While business was not brisk, it did continue.  The Readings, seeing a new source of income, sectioned off the building into “streets” (e/w) and avenues (n/s) like the district and rented out “blocks” to merchants, fishermen, and farmer groups. The top floor is mostly merchants, the first floor mostly food stuffs, and the basement a mixmash of food and odd merchants, mostly catering to odd ethnic and racial groups.  This indoor space allows them to have a market nearly all year, increasing the revenue from space rentals.  For decades now, the market has been one of the Readings’ main sources of revenue (and a major source of tax and guild revenue for the city). 

Note: The Readings are looking into building a similar building (and market) on the Corneth Road, the road out of the city towards Corneth.  They think a district will build up around it, increasing customers.

And though people have been talking about it for centuries, there seems to be no real thrust to build new cities wall.  The lands about the city have been fairly safe for nearly century, with new cities being frontiers.  Besides, the District people could crowd into the City proper if danger loomed.

The Sweet Water district is where everyone wants to live.  Everything is so peaceful, green, and calm.  Children frolic in the streets and greens of the homes.  The Blues, the district\‘s special watch, make sures everyone is safe and happy.

The city draws upon several wells dispersed across it.  Each district has one. There is either a fountain or a well draw near the center of the district.  One of these fountains is attached to a spring. It draws up \“sweet water\” (water which tastes really good and clean). It is a newer well, as these things go.  This neighborhood is a good distance from the center of power (ruling nobles home, city center, etc) and established economic areas. It has become the home of new nobles (usually of a lesser status), richer merchants, and a few crafters who were lucky enough to get into the area before all the nobles and merchants.  

The homes in this area are large and nice.  They are simple in their design, not excessive and gaudy as was the fashion in decades/ centuries past.  The area between the homes is almost park like, with discrete walls hidden by ivy and plants. 

The area gives off a peaceful, country atmosphere, seperate from the hub and the bub of the city beyond its walls.  Children of all types play freely here. (In fact several small poor children use slings to \“remove\” pigeons who might foul the Sweet Water fountain, and receive a bounty for each one).

The neighborhood is patrolled by Blue Guards, private city watch, hired by the people who live here.  They keep this little piece of paradise safe. They maintain Order here. Everyone knows their place and what they should do. No one steps outside those carefully defined boundries. Woe be it to those who might cause trouble here. If the Blues even think you might be a problem, they deal with you severely.  The Blues are also used to keep the servants in line, as they investigate \“missing things\” at the homes here. Some who steal are never seen again. Occasionally, they will even check the downstairs folks places, just to make sure and keep everyone honest.  The Blues will also report any less reputable liasons to the neighborhood council, so this keeps affairs here to an absolute minimum.  And the Blues are self policing. They caught one of their own \“exceeding his mandate\” and he was beaten and dragged quickly throught he area for all to see.

Tannhauser is a working class neighboorhood. No nobles will be found perusing it’s small market square, or the few shops there. The wealthy and powerful have holdings and investments in Tannhauser, but few would be willing to be seen on those dank streets.

In one word, it the smell. The neighborhood’s wealth is built on butcher shops, and tanneries. Bovines by the hundreds are slaughtered every week. The meat is hung in thick walled rooms to drain while the hide is carried across the main boulevard to the tanneries. While the meat is being sectioned and cut, packaged and sold, the hide is scraped and dried and treated.

The finished leather is then sold to the leatherworkers, cobblers, tailors, saddlemakers, and the whole plethora of trades who do brisk business in leather. The Butchers Guild, the Tanners Guild, and the Leatherworkers Guild all have heavy sway in the area, likely more than any city official, or would be ruling noble.

The youth gather in street gangs, most for protection from the gangs of other youths, the Fish-Wharf boys or the SootHammer gang, or the clusters of rapier wielding dandies who come slumming in the dirty taverns and brothels. Of course, there will also be the resident thieves guild and the guildmaster.

The street urchins and most of the neighborhood gangs pay him lip service, and the nobles and officials know that as long as they work with the boss, and the boss makes the appearance of being an upstanding citizen life will be much more bearable.

To get a better feel of Tannhauser Street watch The Gangs of New York I know it’s a Leonardo DiCrapio movie, but it pretty darn good. Just my two cents

The Taymour district is tucked between two other distinct districts in the city. The districts house the government, the nobility, and those of power (church and rich merchants). Those two districts should of absorbed Taymour over time, but it has kept is charm and independence over the years.

The Taymour district is a transitional district.  It is where the newly rich or noble (or the formerly rich and tarnished noble) tend to live.  It is upscale for most people, yet just poor enough that rich/ important people would not live there.  So here are where the noble children live while attending academies, where poor or politically weak nobles go to drink themselves away or grasp at straws trying to curry favor, where merchants live before they buy themselves into the local power base, and so on.  The homes are very nice, but not proper for one of station.  It is adjacent to where the poor servant and shop types live, another district between the two important ones. 

There are shops, cafes, and other services which cater to the almost rich and powerful. It is a nice area of town, if you can afford to be there.

As you walk this district you will notice that some of the cobblestones are oddly colored. Looking around more, you will see green copper stars on some of the sidewalks and even some of the house walls.  One of the bridges is practically a different color due to the number of them. If you don’t know what they are, you must be from somewhere else.  They are markers showing where noble (in terms of deed rather than title) dead were found. 

Over the years, many a revolt or reform (if successful) or riot/ uprising (if not), have emerged from this district.  Between idealism and pragmatism, rich and poor, the people of the Taymour district are in an ideal nitch to both notice and do something about social and political issues.  Thus many an event has begun in the district. 

The stars (and colored stones) mark the people who died trying to make a difference. Sometimes the winners mark their fallen compatriots, other times families or friends mark where their dead fell as a memorial (since as rebels they could not get a real burial or memorial stone). These stones normally have an emblem denoting the political movement, but some rare ones will have a name and date).  Even the soldiers have begun to mark their own dead with copper coins (one days pay) embedded into the stones.   A careful understanding of politics and history will help you unravel the markers spread through out the district (and occasionally in other areas of the city).

In the Bizzannite city of Gnopolis (formerly Charitynaeya) in the Darkmouth Emirate, The work is being done on the largest temple of Stryfe ever constructed.  So massive is this project, that it could not have been placed within the city’s walls without displacing a large portion of Gnopolis’s inhabitants.  Instead, an extension to the walls was made, at city expense provided the church assists with keeping the peace within and guarding the new gate.  This extension increased the size of Gnopolis—already a major city and capital of the Emirate—by an additional 40%.  It was assumed by many that the now-superfluous wall between the temple district & the rest of the city would be stricken when the new external wall was built, but thus far the church has made no effort to do so, and the city has not earmarked funds for the demolition, although that section of the wall is no longer manned. 

Already the framework for the massive spires is the first view over the horizon for visitors approaching by sea, despite the temple district being on the opposite side of the city.  The influx of workers—highly skilled and otherwise—have increased the city’s business, and its crime.  Opportunistic folk, both legitimate merchants and less savoury characters (such as pc’s), have also immigrated to take advantage of this large project.  Most of the workers, as well as those hoping to hire-on, live in tents—often large and communal—and temporary shacks.  As the large increase of visitors due to the construction drove rent prices up—especially for inns or apartments—no common labourer can afford to stay outside of the temple district.  The few rooms that remain are nearly all nightly-rent only, rather than longer-term, and a manual worker certainly cannot afford a hotel room every night. 

Walking through the temple district, one weaves through piles of building materials and rubble, under a buttress still unafixed and over a small cookfire of workers huddled together.  The smell of sawdust, freshly quarried granite, coffee, and sweat, all mingle into a pervasive odour unique to this part of town.  Well-off architects going bald from worry scurry about, notes in hand, stepping over obstacles that you were sure they had not seen.  Carpenters hammer away overhead, while those hoping for work laze the day away in the shade of a tarp.  Small knots of church officials may be seen on most days:  the jovial Abbots, the violent-looking Bishops, and the completely robed-and-veiled scarily silent White Priests.

The Arcade is a long narrow entertainment district. It has three levels, the lower level which was the old creek bed (which now has the stairways leading down to it in a number of places) and the upper street level where the two boardwalk/ trails paralell to the old creekbed are filled with stalls and the occasional storefront/ theater. Sometimes there are tarps roofing over the second level in places. In places there is a third level, were a raised sidewalk and bridgewalks connect stalls and businesses on the upper levels to each other. It is a narrow pace, filled with a riot of people, color, smoke, and entertainment.

(Note there are no open fires allowed here. The locals will literally jump anyone with an open flame, so all the lighting is glow lights and lamps.) Cooking fires are in fully contained vessels.

Years ago, the Arcadey creek was one of those waterways that the area built itself up around.  There were two major streets that parallelled it (a short distance to the creek).  Along the old creekway there were paths along the upper banks.

The Arcadey creek would occasionally become stagnent (creating quite a stink of unpalitable water) and occasionally flood the surrounding area.  The city fathers decided to "fix the creek" (the first water control project since Imperial times). They dug a deeper channel for the creek, lining it with stone. They built many small bridges, almost one every block to connect the two sides of the district easily. There was much civic pride when they completed the water project.  The council decided to take on the rest of the water ways.

After a while, they decided to redirect all the waterways out of the city. It allowed for it all to be done with one huge project rather than nine costly smaller ones. This left the only completed waterway, the Arcadey Creek dry and abandoned.

The area in and around the creek became a sort of no-man’s land, as it was not covered by anyone’s charter from the crown - a perpetual someone else’s problem. People discovered that they could play cards and dice on the creek and the Watch could not touch them.  Players discovered that the ban on theater/ plays in the city did not pertain to areas unchartered… i.e. around the creek… so many troupes set up stages here.  The street performers which were recently outlawed joined the players. The Arcade district began to take form.

Some people sit up tables in the creek to play cards and dice. People would sit upon the rocky banks and watch performers (primative stadium sitting. Better performers and perfomances had rough seats installed across from their stages.

*note: This is where the phrase rocking or rock’n comes from.  To people in this area, sitting on the rocks is to sit and watch a badly produced play or public display. So if you tell someone you are not sitting on the rocks, you are not going to watch this bad performance/ situation/ hysterical situation. The term, "He’s Rock’n", means he is lying/ bluffing… usually badly or he is trying to be something he is not… usually badly.

Certain areas of the creek bed were roofed over.  Some of these roofts are fabric/ tarps… others are flimsy but bridges (which usually have stalls built over them).  These were normally around stages, but other areas have them too. There are new fronts on the buildings (facing the old creek bed) and stall built up against walls. The old trails have been built up with wooden boardwalks. The area has grown and grown again, with food stalls, some restaraunts, exhibits of the strange/ bizzare/ mystical, and one mission trying to save the various lost souls here.

The stalls and small stages hawk wares and food. Some have carnival like games of skill and chance. Pinball/ pachinco ball games are popular. There is a nightly knife and dart throwing contest in one of the local pubs. Performers take up certain stages or stroll through the crowd for tips. Various theater troupes put on performances through out the day and night. There are still dens, where card players gather… drinking and playing.

Some enterprising souls have built upwards… building wooden sidewalks above the ground level.  There are stalls on the roofs of the buildings (or doors have been put in to a second story wall). There are new footbridges connecting the topwalks on each side of the creek bed.

Eventually the new area was granted a charter as an "entertainment" section that can not be closed down in except in times of plague, despite the cries of various religious and guild leaders.

If you want to see some people to populat this area:
30 of the Arcade District

The City Fathers decided decades ago to build a Grand Temple. The Faiths gave their blessing. Taxes were raised. Land was purchased and dedicated. Then supplies began to be procured. People poured in to do the work.

Broken Ground is the neighborhood around the construction site. The foundation and under chambers were finished eight years ago. Walls and windows are being created. Broken Ground is where the people who work on the Grand Temple live. This is a neighborhood of glasssmith, artistic stonesmiths as well as masons (with a mason lodge), carpenters, barrel makers, diggers, priests, and other professionals. There is lodging permanent and temporary, inns, and despite the religious tone of the area, a few places of merriment. There are craft shops of skilled workers. There are storage sheds for materials. There is gaol, which is the home for the permanent crew of roadmen constantly fixing the road to and from Broken Ground, with occasionally other roads being fixed (even the road to and from the quarry). 

There is a constant hum of activity here during the day. The ringing of forges making things, the hiss of glassworks, the sound of chipping and polishing stone, all rise a constant symphony of work to the glory of The Faiths.

At night, the neighborhood pretty much rolls up the boardwalks. Given the long days and heavy work here, most people have little time or energy to do anything but sleep. If it was not for faire days, which are held in the plaza next to the foundation, the work would never stop.

The Headman of this neighborhood is The Architect. He is a man of medium height, weight, and color and of Middling years. However, he has a strong and booming voice and a sharp mind with an edge towards organization. He may not of been the great designer, but he is the one who will make sure the grand vision will be complete. He not only organizes the Grand Temple’s construction, he is the defacto leader of all the people involved.

There is often conflict between the new city elders and The Architect, as the new elders are not as pious and dedicated as the previous ones. Money has been set aside, but no new money flows to the project from the City, only from The Faiths.

The Alley is one of those shadier areas of town; not that there were any thieves or swindlers (visible), it is quite safe here, and if you mind only your business, nobody will mind yours.

If you are an artist that likes to paint the human body (naked of course), you will be at home here. If opium or some subsitute is your passion, you will come here. If you are from a well-to-do family, and have a secret lover, there is an appartment waiting for you. If spies want to meet in privacy, this is the place.

No one has seen anything, no one remembers. Because if you would remember, someone could start to ask, why were you there at all? Whoever comes here, has something not for the public eyes.

The Calm Alleys hide many vices and many secrets. There are no laws here, except for one principle: Stay out of the attention of guards, and you won’t have any problem. Some of the silent residents are surely thieves or killers, but take no work home; the local criminals understand a need for this quiet place. And as long nothing (visible) happens here, the guards leave it in peace.

Oh yes indeed, there was a circus here! Some hundred years ago, a noble hired it, and the show worked for a while. But the noble was killed by his own children, and the family broke apart. The circus went bankrupt in turn, executions taking the most draft animals. As the lands were not claimed back by the family, all became squatters, then moved into the buildings near by, or built their own.

The oldest homes were actually built from wagons, reinforced with boards, and stones on the ground. Many attach even now wheels on their houses. Speaking of traditions, most houses are a bit weird, and use colours not imaginable otherwise.

And locals wear too strange colours, not to speak of their strange ways. People are friendlier here, and happily invite anybody to their contests. Watch out for con artists though, the second story men and slight of hand performers in this area are truly impressive. All the skills of the original performers are still around. Some peasants happen to throw knives at each other, and catch them!

The city has now a tradition of street performers in clown like make up, and nobody hurts those clowns/mimes, because the rest of the folks will come to their aid. People are proud of their oddness, even the little criminals (unlesss they do too much damage). This neighborhood alone is the largest source of comedians and street-performers, and many flashy shows.

The authorities overlooked them at first. A few years after their settling, a fire has accidentaly broken out (or maybe not…). Many wagons were destroyed, but the circus people have saved a nearby temple, and possibly the whole city from burning. This act is not yet forgotten, and helped both sides to mutual respect.

(Note that with the odd skills many have, spies for the country are likely to be recruited from the circus lands.)

Anything else worth noting?

Occult knowledge of various sorts. Fire Walking shows are regularly performed before the winter. Swordplays. Knowledge of exotic animals and cultures could stay behind. Quality tattooing is done here. Levitating mystics can be seen on the street. And art wasn’t even mentioned until now…

Sadly, many exotic animals died early on, not having enough breeding pairs. The city has monkeys and parrots in it now, the way most cities have rats and pigeons. Somehow, they learned to survive even those harsh winters. The Wargs died early on, but left a legacy of the largest city dogs in the area.

Many have quite exotic genetics, so special abilities are more probable here. There is the gypsy future-teller. The family of the Wolf-man. "Robert the Great", a very strong and large man ("borrowed" by the militia occasionally, renting his services otherwise). There are human dwarves, that can pass as children. If a family practiced magics (even little magics) for a few centuries, they might be also odd. Dowsing is a common talent here, and Astrologers earn nicely.

There is also the "Ten-wheeled house", an exotic brothel very frequented in the past, still favoured these days. The name comes from its simple beginnings, of three connected wagons only.

Just down Hawker Street’s crowded length, a stone’s throw from Bassage Market, lies the Dovecote Rookery, the poorest and most desperate area in the city.  Living in tottering, ancient structures, thousands of the impoverished and unwanted spend their short, unpleasant lives in the rookery’s filthy embrace.  Hopelessness rules here, where entire families live huddled in oppressive darkness, a mere hair’s breadth from starvation.  Hideously overcrowded, with as many as ten people to a room, the miserable folk in this foul place have few prospects for escape and even less hope.

At one time, this wretched hive could merely have been described as a slum.  The poor laborers of the area rented apartments in buildings made of solid brick or stone, with many reaching as high as four stories from the ground.  In the many years since that time, these buildings have been added to, remodeled, and rearranged with no standards for safety or regard for the structures’ integrity, until their ancient shells sag and collapse from neglect and decay.  The structures have been modified so often and so irregularly that each forms a veritable maze, with blocked-up doors, ladders instead of stairs, blind passages and entire floors rebuilt or added to the original fabric.  Many of the buildings have been partially undermined by passages and chambers tunneled beneath them, with sub-basements and tunnels hidden from sight and knowledge.  Overhead, haphazard projections and passages connect the ramshackle structures, plunging the narrow streets beneath into perpetual shadow.

The rookery’s narrow streets are virtually impassible, so filled are they with filth and heaps of debris.  Nobblers (brigands) and filchers lurk to extort tribute from passerby wishing to travel their alleys, while filthy and pox-ridden strumpets, the lowest of the low, offer themselves to passerby.   Everywhere, pathetic and diseased beggars shuffle along the narrow alleys or linger at the paths intersections; any sign that a traveler has coin will signal dozens of additional mendicants to descend upon them.

A handful of die-hard businesses survive among the impoverished folk here.  In darkened rooms and on street corners, ironmongers scrounge for metal and rag pickers salvage scraps of material.  Fences barter shrewdly for the pitiful booty claimed by the rookery’s ubiquitous pickpockets and thieves.  Here and there, costermongers can be seen, each jealously guarding a particular pitch within the squalid alleys.  Each vendor closely guards their wares: Stinking boxes of salted fish past their prime, browned and aging vegetables, salvaged buttons, bits of scrap wood or charcoal for fires, silken handkerchiefs of uncertain origin, and other pathetic treasures are carefully watched over by the pitiful merchants hawking them.

In Their Element: Dovecote’s Criminals
A haven for the lawless, the Dovecote Rookery is never visited by the Watch.  They know there’s little point to penetrating the labyrinthine rookery:  Local thugs easily evade them in Dovecote’s unmapped depths, while the more desperate criminals are known to employ traps such as pits, poisons, or deadfalls to protect their lairs.  If the Watch absolutely must enter the hostile labyrinth, they enter in force, backed up by a company of the Crown’s troops.

Their reign uncontested by the law, various warring gangs of cutthroats and thugs claim control over Dovecote’s mazy slums.  The Mud Dogs, a powerful band of villains from nearby Bassage Market, have a strong contingent here, as do other gangs from the area.

Within the rookery, the Scare-Crowes, an aggressive gang of ragged toughs, has become powerful.  They hope to carve a place for themselves from turf once claimed by neighboring gangs.  Vicious and bloodthirsty, the Scare-Crowes have been recruiting heavily among the hopeless youth of the rookery, intimidating folk with tales of their God of Slaughter, a decrepit, blood-encrusted scarecrow they have claimed as their mascot.  Their leader, a foul-tempered young warrior known as Armbreaker, has demanded that the gang’s new members each bow down and swear loyalty to this strange figure.  The shadowy corridors of the rookery carry whispers of the murderous proofs of loyalty demanded by the gang’s belligerent leader and his bloody "god".

The Coyners
The violent young thugs of the gangs are by no means the most infamous of Dovecote’s criminal inhabitants.  That dubious honor may very well belong to a notorious coyner, Janus Dimmick, who dwells deep within the warren.  His cold-blooded crew of counterfeiters is careful to stay on good terms with the other folk of the neighborhood, as they depend on the lesser criminals around them to give them warning should the Watch attempt a raid into the rookery.  These men are some of the hardest, most brutal killers in the city, each one facing the gallows a dozen times over if caught.  The building they lair in is laced with traps for the unwary, ensuring that they will have enough time to escape, should the Watch stage a raid.  From their lair in the midst of the hopeless and impoverished, they enrich themselves while the legion of false coins they have distributed throughout the city undermines the entire region’s economy.  An agent of a hostile foreign power, Dimmick hopes to plunge the land into chaos with his economic manipulation.

The Tunnel Folk
Within the darkened halls and twisting passages, some figures move that never see the light of day.  Little more than a whispered nightmare, few locals would dispute the tales of "Tunnel Folk" hiding in the rookery’s secret depths.  These legendary creatures are twisted amalgams of rats and men, crawling and climbing among hidden passages and tunnels deep beneath the buildings.  The most disturbing tales claim that these abominable hybrids keep a hidden lair, a secret chamber where they keep women and girls enslaved to bear litters of their blasphemous spawn.

This is the city district that has The Field, called The Mound by the Locals. (See Link Bellow)

This district was originally outside the Old City Wall, but will be well within the new city wall, when it is complete. The Field’s Mound is one of the tallest structures in the city (four stories), so it is visible from almost every part of the city. The district was actually built up around the mound.

The district has a larger road passing through it, not far from the Mound. It has four inns within shouting distance of the Mound, and three more in its boundries. These cater to people coming to and from the Field (some teams and actors travel upto a week for The Game), as well as general travellers.

The Distract has the new theater. This structure is built along the lines of the famous Globe Theatre. Since it holds fewer people and can have plays at night, it does not compete with The Field.

In the district, there are a couple of taverns, one brewery (two of the taverns are tied houses), a bakery (specializing in sweets), a weaver shop (who makes blankets and flags), and a blacksmith/ farrier (for tourney day shoing). 

The homes and businesses of the district will often fly penants on event days, adding to the colorful feel. The flags will express what is “playing” that day at The Mound. Sometimes it will be team colors (usually based on the flags of their city or region) or the heraldy of famous jousters. 

The Family that runs The Field, built up most of the houses in the district and rent them out. They can make their tennants fly the flags. Everyone else does it because it is good for business, their landlords make them do it, and to fit in.

The town had a long history. There had been a number of previous Imperial cities here, with their catacombs. There had been a mine here, digging out special stones. And the wells. There has been wells here for centuries, some with pumps. 

One hundred and twenty five years ago the Earth shook. A good quarter of the then current city fell into the sink hole that resulted. Most of it was in one piece. People, being a resiliant lot, simple salvaged what they could, rescued those in the hole, and went on to rebuild their city. The city has done quite well for itself since then.

That has left The Pit to its own.

Eventually, everyone who was down and out found their way into The Pit. These squatters moved in to the surviving buildings. It was better than being out in the cold up above. Most of the buildings were pretty sound and their owners had given up claims soon after the rescues. As people moved in Pit, rather than deal with the city above, predators did the same. These predators (vampires and such) thought these forgotten people would be easy meals, as nobody would defend them. They were wrong. The locals, called Pitters by those above who even gave them a thought, were a tough bunch. They killed or kicked out everything that tried for an "easy snack" in the Pit. The Pitter’s numbers grew over time. Even slums and shanties develop businesses. A small but poor economy developed.

It was a rough life, but eventually some moved back into the city above. Seeking profit, new building and rebuilding in The Pit did occur, as the cheap land was eventually annexed. The Pit was once again considered part of The City. From a lawless no man’s land to the slum of slums, the transformation was not that drastic.

Note: The Guard is afraid to enter the Pit, except is massive numbers. But that is okay, the Pitters take care of their own and their justice is fairly swift AND even handed (being used to being treated unfairly, they are scrupleously fair).

The Plaza of Tarnished Entertainments is a large, circular plaza, built in the formerly-affluent Saeppellion district of Hartacon, capitol of Mysia. Like most of Saeppellion, the Plaza was constructed during the period of the Aggharvathion Dynasty, the successors of the 2nd dynasty of Tritanion kings, during the flush of funds brought on by the victories against the raiding Dragonfighters of Mount Taris who swept down into western Mysia. Like most Aggharvathion-era streets, it is wide and constructed of packed-earth (the Aggharvathion kings maintained some of the urban-planning practices which had become traditional during the time of the Tritanion Ministers), and lacks the guardian-arch erected on more ancient streets (such as the Street of Enigmatic Philosophy). It is a large, circular Plaza, the end of the Street of Scintillant Forges and the beginning of the Way of Alcnasion, and is lined all the way about with tiered levels of low, post-Resurgence flathouses, arrayed about the Plaza like seats of an amphitheatre. Most of these houses are silent and locked during the day, but during the night become wild and bright with activity; most bear either the eel-marked banner of a house of prostitution or the symbols of a tavern. In the center of the Plaza, there is a large marble dais holding the legs of an unfinished statue. There is a half-carved motto between the feet of these forlorn legs, which now and possibly forever will read “The blood we shed will-”.
Originally bearing the more picturesque title of the Plaza of Heroic Amusements, the Plaza of Tarnished Entertainments was first constructed after the end of the Dragonfighter raids of the post-Resurgence period, when thousands of veterans and refugees flooded Hartacon, fleeing the devastatin and banditry of the western border, which, at that time, was heavily garrisoned but quite chaotic and ungovernable. It was at this time that Isanda XI Aggharvathion, the newly-risen King, decreed that the wounded veterans and battle-hardened warriors who had served their nation in the raids deserved a worthy gift. He decreed that there would be built, in the midst of the new and ritzy district of Saeppellion, which his grandfather had begun, a great plaza, full of merriment and entertainments, where veterans would stay and live forever in bliss. It was, indeed, an ambitious project, but it was finished in those ambitious days, and soon veterans streamed to dwell in the new Plaza.

But war, especially such vicious war as the raids of the Dragonfighters, brings a strange malaise to those who have seen it. Within the death of King Isanda XI, the Plaza of Heroic Amusements, as well as the Saeppellion district, had fallen into a deep depression, not the least of which was brought on by the battle-shock of the dwellers of that place, and the neighborhood slowly and surely became a sad and desperate place.

The Plaza of Tarnished Entertainments, as it is now known, is truly a year-round festival. Every night, it is flooded with people, shouts, the giggles and screams of the women of the night who patrol it’s alleys and people it’s bawdy houses. But the customers of these brothels and these drinking halls have the wild and pitiless light of desperate and broken folk in their eyes, the most beautiful courtesans are scarred and meek, and beneath the layers of gold-leaf and the heavy curtains there are stained and chipped walls of bare brick. Though the Plaza is still a place of entertainment, it is the entertainment of those who can only attempt, but cannot quite manage to, forget the stain of war.

In the western part of the city is a large neighborhood. It is this good sized old walled neighborhood that gives the city is reputation for education, wisdom, and enlightenement. It is called The Quadrangles by locals and those of high education. 

The Quadrangles is a set of eight plus one colleges, institutes of higher and focused study. The colleges are all adjacent, filling a large city block, often with alleys or narrow streets between them. They are all built upon the same basic plan, which if you as some of the scholars was based upon early Eiren monastaries. Each is square or slightly retangular three story affairs, with a paved central courtyard. The center of the courtyard has a fountain or some kind of appropriate statuary, and several sets of benches. Each side of a college quadrangle has two to three archways/ short tunnels leading through to the courtyard. Thus the phrase, “Through the arch of knowledge”, for learning something. Classes are entered from the courtyard (either directly or from stairways); offices and deliveries are always from the outside.

The eight colleges are: Letters (literature, history, oratory), Law, Healing, Greater Building (Roads, Huge Walls, large scale things), Dwarvethurgy (metalurgy and mining), Knowledge (mathematics and various physical sciences- such as they are), Thaumatury, Thergical (the basic study of religion ... precursor to higher religious study from various religions),

The rest of the neighborhood supports the Quadarangles. There is much in the way of inexpensive apartments and housing. There are a number of cafes and food holes (tiny places selling foodstuffs out their front windows/ counters).

The quarter is filled with book sellers and scroll mongers. Importers, exporters, and bookbinders all have a home home here. In fact, this is the majority of businesses here. There are several libraries which one has to pay to be a member of. Certain library memberships are included in the price of tuition at given college.

There are a dozen shops of Scribes, Tutors, and researchers. Many a problem can be resolved by simply searching various archives, libraries, and talking with the right scholar. Translators have set up shop here, so you can get papers in any language here. With the presence of translators and foreigners here, as well as free thinkers/ radical, some say the spys hang out here as well.

Note: One College, The School of Architecture (Lesser Building), is not in a quadrangle. It is adjacent to the others in a nearby/ adjacent building. The school nearly failed for psychological reasons, it had no arches. With the installation of faux arch leading to doorways, they now seem appropriate and fit in with the colleges.

There are plans for new colleges, some for certain guilds, in the works. The various organizing groups are working up the funds to buy land and build quadrangles.