Excerpt from the Journal of Janse Sarasti, Patrolman of the Guard of Shalannan
It is my duty. It is my task. I shall claim it as my own and I shall do it with pride, honor, and integrity.
Normally I am assigned to a guard post between the Local District and the Guild District, but today I have been drawn on patrol. My patrol will start near the docks of Old Town at day break and I will walk the streets of the districts, tier by tier, until I tender my report at The Summit.
Old Town (click for a district map)
The streets in this district are narrower than other districts, as this district was a part of the original port. All of the streets of the city are either paved or pressed stone. The hardened surfaces make easy cart paths, but the unevenness can cause those unaccustomed to such a path issues while walking.
Old Town is the only district that spans the city walls and as such carries on up the hill away from the shoreline. It begins at the shipping docks outside of the wall that defines tier one and proceeds up through tiers one and two. The original buildings here are still mostly wood, with wooden shake shingles, except for the warehouses and the The Leafy Seadragon Inn, which have been upgraded to stone on the first floor. Most of the buildings in this outer area of Old Town are only single story, the inn being a notable exception as a multistory abode. The low roof profiles allow for good light distribution during the day and, being that the buildings are mostly wooden, lanterns rather than torches provide illumination at night.
I can hear the noise of the dockworkers, the rhythmic squeak and sunder of the ships moored at the docks. I wander through the narrow streets between the warehouses and arrive at the first tier wall to greet my comrades at the gatehouse. I turn about and check down the dead-ends where ruffians will sometimes hole up and where an illicit trade may be taking place. As I march back towards the shore, moving along the shoreline, I come upon a square where some of the local fishermen have set up the morning’s catch. The fish smell fresh and of salt water.
I stop for a few moments and talk to Johannse Walker, one of the well-known fishers. He tells me that the southern pirates are still patrolling the waters beyond the first straights and that it would be best to continue the postings warning travelers to avoid those isles. I take note in the patrol log and, bidding him safe sails, continue onward.
The outer region of Old Town is situated outside of the city walls and as my patrol of this region concludes, I backtrack to the central gate and ascend to the first tier of the city. I continue my patrol in this second tier of Old Town. Here are shops and homes for those who work at sea or make their trade in supplying the voyages.
The Local District (click for a district map)
After catching more of the windward and leeward tales, I follow the shoreline around and find myself in the Local District. Here the streets are slightly wider; two men could easily pass each other shoulder-to-shoulder. Within the core of this district is a known haven of the aberrant; the Thief’s Quarters. Being an upstanding citizen and member of the brigade, I cannot directly attest to any of what goes on, yet I must be vigilant to ensure that no ill befalls the local residents.
The buildings in the Local District are larger than those in Old Town, being planned better. This allows for a denser population and almost every local inhabitant of this district is some form of merchant or shopkeeper. In order to better accommodate this lifestyle, the buildings here are almost all multistory. The first floors are stone throughout, the second stories wooden, with similar wooden shake roofs as found in Old Town.
As I wave to a local weaver, she puts down her craft and approaches me. I know her as Gwen O’hanery and she is the youngest daughter of one of the newer families to Shalannan. Her eyes seem to sparkle as she smiles warmly at me and I realize that I am most likely flushing slightly, as is she. I bid her what must have been a clumsy good day as I know I mustn’t tarry here or rumors will quickly start. Shalannan may be a large city but inside the walls it seems everyone knows everyone else and I am not yet solid enough in the Guard to have a place or station to warrant such rumors.
The Grand Bazaar (click for a district map)
As I approach the Grand Bazaar of Shalannan the buildings become larger and the shops become larger, more wealth is found the farther you get from the docks and the closer you get to the Grand Bazaar.
The Grand Bazaar is the largest district in the entire city, and where most of the coin is made; and where most of the coin is lost. The thieves tend to haunt the alleys around the Grand Bazaar, which is itself a large open are where vendors of all trades ply their wares for the travelers who visit our city. I peruse the merchandise of one Filyen Hammersmith, a dwarven merchant, and one of the recent immigrants to our land. His kin set off north to Otian, yet he remained here in the city and is quickly making a name for himself as a smith of fine craftsmanship. He is engaged in a heated argument with Hans Mulehil, one of the prominent nobles of the city, over how much is ‘fair’ to charge for an item made by one such as himself. I must intervene when the dwarf takes exception to the remark from Sr Mulehil, and as such I garner cold stares from both. I take down a notation of this encounter but am sure that the entry will be purged when I submit today’s log.
Across the Grand Bazaar is the guardhouse, which is a two story stone building with a large watch running around three sides overlooking the Grand Bazaar. I check in with the guard, and grab a warm drink, before heading out through the rest of this district.
Just a stone’s throw from the Grand Bazaar is the Hospital of Shalannan. Here clerics of Fharlanghn sent from the cathedral on The Summit work their arts for the masses. The Hospital has a peaceful inner courtyard for meditation, and since it is surrounded by the Hospital itself is a place where even the most infirm can find safety and security.
I find Sister Mary Claire seated at the western entrance to the Hospital, where she greets me with a hearty hail and a shortened comment that I look as though I could use a rest. I will admit the past few weeks have been hard, as many of the guard have been sent to Otian to bolster the patrols there and I have pulled a few more patrols than I normally would, but it’s all for the good of the common. She tells me that a few more from Greyn and Volland have arrived at the Hospital and are being kept apart from the others; their affliction is unknown to any yet they are truly very ill. Some who arrived a week past have already died from this illness, and Sister Mary Claire seems almost despondent at the inability to aid them. I comfort her, as best I can, and take a note of the count of lives lost today in the patrol log.
Beyond the Hospital the buildings are massive and are split by internal walls into individual shops with homes above. Here, the streets are more regular. These buildings mostly cater to the arriving travelers, with the buildings towards the inner wall serving more for the traveling clientele and the buildings toward the outer wall serving the staff of the visiting ships. There is no gate into the upper tiers of the city to be found in this district, to contain and control the immigrant traffic. At the very end of the Grand Bazaar is the northern entrance to the city where the lumber and logging goods from Greyn and Volland are imported through via a pathway from the river. This gate is always kept under lock and guard and is opened only when a delivery is to be brought in.
I check the shops, and some of the innkeepers grateful for my visit provide me with a quick bite to eat; one that I can take with me. Terrance Yorgen, keeper of the Wiley Wyvern Inn, asks me how things have been in the bazaar. “Busy” I tell him and that puts a smile on his face, as he is sure that it will also put coin in his purse.
The Merchant District (click for a district map)
I pace back and forth down the travel ways until I find myself in the Merchant District. This district has very wide streets and is a collection of just a few massive buildings. Each building is subdivided into large workrooms and spaces for artisan trades. Foot traffic is mixed with cart traffic in this district, and the hammering, chipping, and singing of the artisans can be heard. I find myself peering in through the window of one of the carpenters, one Marcus Goodfield, who is working with a massive log turning it into some fine piece of furniture. Merchants in this district do not directly report the Guild Chairs in the Guild District, which I will come to later in my day, but must still pay a tithe to the local overseers to stay in good standing. The nature of this tithe and the schedule of payment are unknown to me; I do not collect these levied taxes. I am, however, sometimes asked by an accountant to escort them from a visit as far as the toll entrance at the far end of the district, from which point onward they can be safe.
As a matter of fact, I find myself now passing through the tolling tunnel. All travelers from abroad who arrive by land, and those bringing goods and grain from the farming communities use this tunnel. It is constantly guarded, and the eastern wing of the tunnel is a barracks for many of the guard. The tunnel is made, as the building housing it is made, from blocks of solid stone. The tolling tunnel is pitch dark even at midday, so lanterns are installed at regular intervals and always lit.
The Military District (click for a district map)
Exiting the tolling tunnel I find myself entering the Military Ward, where I am housed; for now. I hope, one day, to find a lovely woman (I smirk to myself realizing I already have) and settle down into the Merchants District where I can whittle and work wood…
Snapped back to reality by the clang and clash of metal on metal I realize I am in the sparring square. This large square is the entry point for both of the eastern entrances. The left entrance is used by the incoming traffic and as such is directed to the tolling tunnel; the right entrance is used by outbound traffic including the patrols that go out locally to patrol the outer walls. At the far end of this district, where the mountain cliffs border the district itself is the local constabulary and jail, which often sits empty as the populace of the city is generally well behaved. The other buildings here are the armory, located immediately next to the outbound gate, the barracks a huge central building, and the officers quarters between the barracks and the tollhouse.
Through the upper gate I shall make my ascent into the second tier, after stopping for lunch in the barracks.
The Noble District (click for a district map)
The first district when traversing the cities second tier from the west is the Nobles District. Here, the buildings are smaller, each one owned by a prominent house of a family of the city. Most of these families are the founding families from the founding of the original port. The streets here are wide, and very well lit. The buildings are all multiple floors, the entire home being stone, with a slated roof. Many of these homes have glass in the windows, and there is very little noise in this district. At night, lights from the lanterns on the streets and the lanterns and candles of the homes light this district very well, and there is a regular patrol from the Military District through the Nobles District at least once an hour every hour of every day.
I notice Hans Mulehil, whom I have seen earlier in the bazaar, and a younger man who looks very out place in this district speaking animatedly and gesturing wildly. Thinking that he may be in trouble, I approach the pair; when my footsteps are heard the unkempt man flees and Sr Mulehil intercepts me. After he assures me that he is not in any distress, I bid myself pardon and continue on. After rounding the corner and being out of site I make the best notation that I can of this second encounter with Sr Mulehil, perhaps the captain will give me more credit, I muse.
As many of the nobility work on The Summit, there is a gate from this district to The Summit. At the far end of the district, where this district merges into the Guild District is an oddly shaped building with a long pier-like projection into a large square. This building is a “lighter” constabulary, and merchants who do not belong to the Guilds or tithe when required will be found suffering their penance in the stockades along the pier.
The Guild District (click for a district map)
Passing the stockades I find myself in the Guild District. This district has the homes for the Guild Chairs and four massive Guild Halls for each of the primary Guilds of the city. As I wander northwards through the district there are many assessors and auditors checking in on the Guilds. At the far northern end of the district is a gate to the Merchants District to facilitate the movement of goods between those districts.
The Mages District (click for a district map)
Wandering westward from that gate I enter into the Mages District. This district is the most ornate of all the districts, and the buildings are all highly irregular shapes. There are a few that I would describe as towers, reaching up to where the upper floors can surely look out over the walls to The Summit. On the first floors of many of these residences are small shops where standard arcane goods can be acquired. Most of the truly magnificent creations are sold at the Grand Bazaar, or gifted to the City Government or the Guild Chairs as a token for practical worth when some repair or substance is required.
I stand for a while as a young apprentice is learning from his master, Hyven Torsyoled. I marvel as Sr Torsyoled creates glittering lights from only movements of his hands and few incantations.
Shaking my head to clear it, I notice Sr Torsyoled smiling genially at me. I wander back southwards along the wall, back into the Guild District and then on into the upper tier of Old Town. There are only two major buildings in this tier of Old Town. One is The Cranky Badger, the second inn of the original city that was up the hill away from the shore where original travelers stayed. This inn is bordered by the inner wall of the second tier and is long rumored to have been a smuggler’s den but none remember how or when. The Innkeeper, Marchal Evenchair, hails me as I pass the door to the inn and asks me if I have any news from the north. Shaking my head, I sadly state to him that I haven’t left the city walls in the past month or more, and that report from the garrison at Otian are few and far between. He bids me bring him any news I hear from Beadale or Otian, as he has kin in that region and would like to know how their fare goes.
The other large building here is a twisted building that winds around a smaller building and creates an interlocked arrangement. There are often shady types milling about here hoping to be ignored on this backside of the second tier. I am wise to that, and as such walk slightly more softly in an attempt to sneak up on someone who should be dealt with. Today isn’t a lucky day for me as this net pulls in no catch. I do hear footsteps, I think, as I round one corner, but surely my greaves upon the stone offer ample time to disband to any not wishing to be seen.
The Elven Enclave (click for a district map)
The next district on the second tier, the backside of this tier, bordered by the mountains and formed in the trees of the bordering forest is the Elven Enclave. Here, in this tiny district set high on wooden columns that spiral up into the trees above, a contingent of Elves from Y’hserin keeps a constant presence. I know that they are here to keep an eye on us, much more so than I should keep an eye on them. As their gate guard peer uninterestedly down at me from the ramp that leads up to the platforms built into and around the trees themselves, I shudder slightly, salute them, and take my leave of the Enclave. Backtracking, I take a sharp left through the gate and on upwards to The Summit.
The Summit (click for a district map)
The Summit is a beautiful place, crowned by the Cathedral in the center, with the government offices situated along the walls. Far to the back of The Summit, nestled into the mountain face, is the Old Chapel which was founded with the original port but has fallen into disrepair since the creation of the Chapel. It was deemed unsatisfactory to raze the Old Chapel as it is a holy space, but the doors and windows have been boarded over, and for ages none have been allowed entry. There is an iron fence, about six feet high with spiked pinnacles, that effectively borders off the Old Chapel with a margin of about 100 feet.
I do not patrol The Summit, my station is not high enough for a post of that endeavor, but my brothers that do often say that they hear groans from the chapel tower at night, and a wandering light has been reported. No one has been interested in investigating and the High Elders of the Chapel have forbidden entrance to the locals. I note a few pairings of Elder and Acolyte going about their lessons in the gardens around the Cathedral, and note a few young men collected, and looking at but not approaching the Old Chapel. I can here one of them shout ‘There! See! In the window there of the tower, I saw it, I know I did!’ but take no written note; Summit business is not MY business.
Finally, I turn in my report to the captain. I relate to him the group I saw near the Chapel and he quickly sends a squad of three to check it out. Thanking me, he provides me my days wages; not enough for anything from the Mages, but perhaps enough for a small something for my dear Gwen.
I meander my way back down towards the barracks and prepare myself for a long, boring night ahead where I have nothing better to do that write the accounts of my day and dream of my future.
