Worlds to play, cards to import

The seat of the Harrowick estates — a moated manor amid the realm's best wheat, run with an absent master and a very present steward.

A Halbren hearth-village dug half into a chalk down — small doors, deep pantries, and a welcome that is warm, watchful, and carefully portioned.

Granton's most famous bakery: hundredweight ovens, a dawn queue half a street long, and loaves that have never once been nailed to the Loaf Wall.

A walled milling town on the Sack River — smaller than Sheavebury, louder in its politics, and openly fond of House Meriel.

The Granlands' chief granary town — a wheat-sea fortress whose walls were built to keep armies out and are now keeping the grain in.

Granton's open-air tribunal of loaves and weights, where Bench-Mother Susset Harrowick tries every short ounce sold in the city — and where bread prices become law.

Seat of the Chandlers' Concord in Granton: the Table of Nine meets here under Guildmistress Maud Tolley, and the realm's master weights sleep in its vault.

Granton's harvest shrine, where the first sheaf of every wagon is offered and the old gleaners' right — that no field be picked clean — is kept alive in the city.

The chalk-and-bell heart of the city's grain trade: criers, factors, and the boards where tomorrow's bread price is written before the city knows it.

The iron exchange and assay house of the Ferruhm Quarter — a Chandlers' Concord weigh-house where every bar of Reaches iron is rung, graded, and priced.

The stepped water-channels where Granton grinds its grain: five races, nine wheels, and an Ondrel who turns the stones when the water will not.

Granton's malt-house and brewery: kilns, ale-vats, and the taproom where the quarter drinks its worries into words.

The stone toll bridge where the tithe-road crosses the Sack River — every grain wagon bound for Coronal passes over it, and lately most of them stop.

The walled wagon-yard where the Granlands tithe enters Coronal: weighbridge, tally-house, and the first place in the city to know when the bread will run short.

Ede Thrifthall's victualling warehouse: a stone cold-vault of provisions that supplies the Emberguard and half the realm's caravans, and that the banks openly envy.

The Reaches' biggest company mining town — three shifts, company scrip, and a mountain being hollowed out on paper held in Coronal.

A dying mine town at the Deepworks' gate — half its doors nailed shut since the sealings, held together by one old Draken-Sol captain and sheer refusal.

Three covered arcades of armourers' shops off the Emberworks square — the finest harness in the realm, sold under one long roof.

The Dvergani birthing-seam settlement of the Reaches — a warm gallery of stone where a people is born from the mountain, and hasn't been for twenty-two years.

The great old workings under the Reaches — the deepest mine in the realm, whose lower galleries have been sealed one by one this decade, for reasons no two locals agree on.

The great forge-hall of the Ferruhm Quarter — Brakka Coalseam's domain, where the Oath-forge fire has burned since the founding.

The Iron quarter's gate in Coronal's ring wall — Gate-Captain Doran Vex's command, held open every day of the peace until this spring's curfew checks.

The Emberguard guardhouse set into the Ward wall beside the Accord Hall gate — the legion's oldest post and the camp's reluctant neighbour.

The wide stone basin at the Tree's south root that catches the canopy's run-off — pilgrims' water, Graftwarden chore, and the camp's kettle.