To Procampur

As you entered the gates of Pocampur, the sights around you showed a city of contrast. Rich and poor. Noble and peasant. Pious and a-moral. Tradesmen and vagrants.

“Gate” is only a loose term here. While there are walls, the city has poured out of them, particularly to the north where your party is entering from. Shantytown, tent villages, and subsumed farmhouses and barns all sprawl just outside of the city proper. Lacking the ammenities of the center of the city, the approach is packed with beggars, unwashed pack animals, broken-down carts, and piles of other detritus. Caravans and palanquins surrounded by guards attempt to cleave a path into the city itself.

It perhaps strikes you that, even though this town does not present a warm and welcoming face to the world, there is a vast amount of traffic. Much of it from far away lands and bearing a great deal of wealth and goods.

After passing the city walls, limestone and brick replace the flimsy timber. The sound of craftsmen shaping the stone, metals, and gems from the neaby mines welcomes you. Crooked and greedy though the leaders are, the citizens here are among the best blacksmiths and artisans for half a thousand miles.

Everywhere you go, someone is trying to make a few copper. Every couple of minutes, you have an offer to get your shoes shined, your horses stabled, a hot bath, your baggage carried, a one-of-a-kind magical charm that will cure everything that ails you, or the finest beer/stew/pastry/bread that you will ever taste! Not to mention advertisements for goods and services more, how shall we say… illicit.

Several times, Dyna has to be retrieved from following one of these hawkers off into the crowd. Mostly the first kind.

To Procampur

The Last Century whitcarter