I echo MoonHunter's decrying the number of votes compared to the number of comments. When those young nomads who have but little skill or writing sense when they wander into our Citadel, we should encourage even their weak efforts and try to hone their skills, difficult as it may be. Who knows what potential talent was lost when someone's first submission gets a low vote and they leave without hope?
I'm as guilty as the rest, but I hope in the decade(!) since devblu posted this, we've gotten better as a writing community. Go to Comment
The city of Nausopol is built on stilts. Lots of very sturdy stilts and butresses, of course, because it rises about five hundred feet from the ocean. Even the most terrific of storms is only heard in the city as a distant cacophony of blasts as waves strike the solid stonework fathoms below. It has never been attacked because of its isolation and impregnability.
It's not a place for the faint-hearted: vertigo and sea-sickness are not desirable traits. But when you are standing in the middle of the city there is no way you could tell that you were standing above an ocean, separated only by a gulf of air and a few stones.
A thousand steps lead down from Nausopol to the floating docks. These docks are pitch-coated wooden and can be raised by winches during squalls. Trade with other cities and countries is good: Nausopol is built over a sunken atoll whose minerals are still mined by divers, and it was from this that it originally derived its wealth.
But the principal method of getting to and from the city is by riding the giant sea-eagles which have been captured and bred for that very reason.