The City Docks
Where River and City Meet
The City Docks stretch along the western edge of the City League, a narrow but vital strip of land pressed between the 20-foot-high city wall and the wide, restless flow of the River Lygol. From dawn until dusk, the area is a hive of activity—the air filled with the cries of dockhands, the creak of ropes and wood, and the ever-present splash of water against hulls. Boats of all sizes—from sturdy river barges to sleek trading vessels—jostle for space at the piers, unloading goods from distant towns or preparing cargo bound for other ports up or downstream. This is where the lifeblood of the city’s trade flows most freely.
The buildings lining the docks are mostly warehouses, their broad doors yawning open as labourers shift crates, barrels, and bundles with practised speed. Some of these warehouses belong to established merchants and guilds, their operations precise and orderly. Others seem a little more rough around the edges, where records are looser, and goods come and go without as much scrutiny. Between these storehouses are a scattering of taverns, each filled with sailors, traders, and dockworkers looking to drink, rest, or deal. The names of these establishments are often as salty as their patrons, and while some are known for warm meals and safe beds, others are best entered with caution.
Access to the City Docks is controlled but not restricted. The West Gate, at the northern end, sees a steady stream of wagons and carts hauling goods to and from the docks into the heart of the city. Meanwhile, a smaller southern gate opens directly onto the dockside, allowing workers, officials, and merchants to move quickly between ship and shore. Though City Watch patrols are present, their gaze tends to focus more on keeping the peace than on investigating the finer details of trade. It’s understood that a bit of flexibility keeps the river flowing smoothly.
For many, the City Docks are not just a place of work, but a way of life. Fishermen, sailmakers, carpenters, and porters all call this narrow district home, living in small quarters above or beside the businesses they serve. The docks are where news from afar often arrives first, carried by the river and whispered over tankards of ale. While the docks lack the grandeur of the Capitol or the order of the Punctilio, they are the city’s pulse, beating to the rhythm of tide, trade, and labour.
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