Worlds to play, cards to import

The deep barrel-cellar under Ivy Dunmore's boarding house — officially storage, actually the Rootden meeting-room of the Barefoot Chorus.

The last true water on the ash-road between Coronal and the deep Pyrelands — a walled well, a caravanserai, and the region's whole supply of neutral ground.

House Meriel's modest city house on a Riverrun canal — a claimant's seat that smells of beeswax and old debt, run tighter than its lord suspects.

A Veskarn crater-town built down the terraced inner wall of a dormant caldera, famous for its bead-wrights and for a vent-fire that has never gone out.

Riverrun's flood-cellar tavern — drink upstairs, memory downstairs: the old taproom drowned in the Year 33 flood is kept exactly as the water left it.

The Serathi birthing-kiln site of the deep glass desert — a hollow of ancient kilns where clutches are sung into life and the sand itself remembers every firing.

A Longwar battlefield fused into a plain of black mirror-glass — the Pyrelands' most haunted ground and its most profitable harvest.

Riverrun's great tiered wharves — nine stone flights of quays where the Riverspine trade climbs into Coronal, worked by barge clans, winch-riggers, and one living crane.

The floating quarter of the Sedge barge-clan — forty hulls lashed into lanes and courts off the Nine Stairs, ruled from Sedge-Ilai's grey flagship.

The fish market of the Riverrun Quarter — a roofed chaos of eel-tanks, ice-barrows and shouted prices where the city's fish is sold before sunrise and gutted by noon.

House Draken-Sol's ancestral seat — a fortress of black basalt and old iron on a volcanic ridge, kept ready for a war its lord in Coronal insists he is not planning.

A Maru bath-house of warm green pools and river-steam — the one place in Riverrun where rival barge clans soak, gossip, and cannot lawfully swear anything.

A ship-chandler's warren of rope, tar, lamp-oil and false-bottomed crates — the shop where Riverrun's smugglers are outfitted, provisioned, and never named.

The customs house of the Nine Stairs — a leaning stone counting-hall where the Crown's tariff meets the river's ingenuity, and mostly loses.

Riverrun's commercial canal-law bench — a flood-scarred hall on pilings where cargo disputes, moorage rights, and words-given-on-water are judged by the old river codes.

The Pyre Quarter's furnace-street: a half-mile of glassworks whose chimneys never cool, where the city's finest lenses, vessels and memorial glass are made.

House Draken-Sol's city palace in the Pyre Quarter, built around the Eternal Brazier that has burned since the Longwar's last battle.

The licensed alchemists' guildhall of the Pyre Quarter: laboratory, license-court and locked vault of formulas, all under one lead-sheathed roof.

Stepped memorial gardens on the Pyre Quarter's south slope where ashes are given to the beds, and mourners' guides walk families through the rites.

The glassfolk's taproom of the Pyre Quarter: open all hours because the furnaces are, serving whichever shift just ended.

The Pyre Quarter's bead-market: a covered lane where memorial glass, lenses and alchemical wares are sold, and where grief and commerce share a counter.

A Molded workshop-chapel in the Pyre Quarter where made folk gather to repair one another and hear Measure speak on what a made thing is owed.

The Pyre Quarter's communal firing-yard: a terrace of shared kilns where potters, bead-wrights and glassfolk rent heat by the hour.

The Pyre Quarter's great crematory temple: nine sacred furnaces where Coronal's dead are given to flame, and where Ashev fires ashes into memorial glass.