Public Docks
The Public Docks of Gloomwrought are a chaotic, salt-crusted sprawl of rotting timber and slick stone. Located along the edge of the city where the black, oily waters of the Shadowfell lap against the shore, this is the city's primary gateway for trade with other Domains of Dread and the occasional daring planar traveler. Unlike the hushed atmosphere of the Plaza District, the docks are a cacophony of industry. The air is thick with the smell of stagnant water, wet fur, and the metallic tang of blood.
The most striking feature of the docks is the workforce. Under the oppressive grey sky, a relentless cycle of loading and unloading never ceases. Skeletons and zombies, their flesh preserved by the Shadowfell’s chill, move with a rhythmic, jerky precision. They carry massive crates of obsidian ore and barrels of pickled gloom-fish that would crush a living man. They require no rest, no pay, and—most importantly—they do not complain about the "Death Toll."Humans, Shadar-kai, and Half-Orcs work alongside the dead, their faces etched with exhaustion. They handle the more delicate cargo—alchemical reagents, fragile silks, and livestock—that the mindless undead might accidentally crush.
Standing on raised wooden platforms or the bows of ships, the Wharf Masters are the source of the noise. These are often broad-shouldered individuals with voices like grinding gravel, screaming orders and cracking whips of shadow-stuff to keep the living moving as fast as the dead.
Points of Interest
- The Harbormaster’s Office: leaning tower of jagged stone where arrivals must register their cargo and pay the "Shadow Tithe." It is rumored that the Harbormaster hasn't left the top floor in fifty years.
- The Sunken Anchor: A rowdy, low-ceilinged tavern partially submerged at high tide. It’s the only place on the docks where the wharf masters and sailors mingle, sharing mugs of bitter, dark ale.
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