Worlds to play, cards to import

Gilbert Senn's company depot beside the quay road, where Marta Seixas manages credit and Hobb Tin keeps useful stores moving safely.

Southern repair and salvage beach where Joan Kettle careens hulls, Luis Pardo trades recovered fittings and Mercy Dunn runs boat deliveries.

Salvaged landing stages and the Free Berths' meeting place, where Bea Rusk, Oswin Pike and Cora Venn keep the pirate port working.

Newly risen island of pirate moorings, white cliffs and unreliable navigation charms; Orra Bell guides the ridge and tends its freshwater basin.

Nell Corder's tavern in a beached brig, with rented cabins, Rufus Dace's ambitious kitchen and Pella Tack's sail loft above the drinking room.

Inez Barreto's working pirate sloop, crewed with her carpenter brother Tomas and quartermaster Dorr Mallow; home-moored off Borrowed Quay.

Sabine Holt's clinic in a beached pleasure yacht, with Bram Holt's accessible ramp and Neris Coil's medicine boxes along the rail.

Ada Fenn, Kit Roper and Vessa Reed's survey workshop above the inlet, with tide steps, chart tables and access to boats and the eastern path.

Eastern cliff terraces and tidal salvage caves worked by Rosa Salcedo, Perrin Watt and Tavish Reed; access depends on tide, ladders and sound rigging.

The printers' lane of Songspire — a dozen shops shoulder to shoulder, ink in the gutters, apprentice runners carrying proofs, and a censors' sweep every week.

A steep stair-street of student lodgings between the Echo Halls and the archives, named for the chantlings — student cantors, law-copyists, and scholars — packed three to a room along it.

A modest, spotless counting-house that settles small merchants' accounts by day — and squares the Brine Ledger's collections by night.

Seven terraced galleries carved into Songspire's crag where Aeviri cantors sing the realm's law and memory in relay shifts, dawn to dawn, and have not dropped the note in 152 years.

Stacked open-air theatre terraces on the crag's south face — each terrace a stage, its audience seated on the terrace above — built from repurposed Longwar siege-scaffolds.

The old salt-cellars under the quarter's spine, rented out vault by vault — the Saltmere stores its valuables and its grudges at the same depth.

The realm's archive of written law — statutes, contracts, precedents, and Council minutes — which the Aeviri call 'the dead voice' and refuse to enter.

Cadenza Marle's print-shop on Inkrow Lane — the press that turned a funeral song into a movement, and that prints every faction's pamphlets, frequently on the same night.

The Accord Council's censors' office for print and stage: every playbill and pamphlet in Coronal legally requires its wax seal and stave-mark before it sees the street.

The taphouse under the Garland Terraces where players, chantlings, pamphleteers, and off-duty censors drink in an enforced and well-understood truce.

A brick arcade by the old tide-gate where Chittik menders fix locks, clocks, pumps and scales — the quarter's small machines, and some of its large secrets.

A sound-baffled rehearsal hall — once a bell-foundry's testing hall — that rents its hours to any troupe, choir, or unnamed party with coin, no questions asked.

A Sylvithi hollow-town grown inside seven living alder trunks — homes coaxed, never cut, where the forest's law is spoken in the oldest room.

House Vairre's city seat in the Saltmere: a bank pretending to be a palace, or the reverse — nobody who enters leaves unrecorded.

A stilt town standing on black piles above the drowned village of Old Farthing — at low tide the old roofs break the water like the backs of sleeping whales.