Worlds to play, cards to import

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.

The high-pass waystation on the Reaches' spine road — Ondrel country, where the ore-carts rest before the descent and giants keep the tally.

The anvil-stone on which the Iron Oath was sworn in Year 0 — the quarter's open-air shrine, contract-court, and lately its wailing wall.

The terrace of tall houses along the Ward wall's inner face leased to the claimant houses' liaisons — three flags, one street, and every window watching the others.

The Accord Hall's archives annex: three storeys of filed minutes, precedents and sealed petitions — the provisional government's actual memory.

The tent-and-plank town that has grown outside the Accord Hall in the eight months since the Emperor died — the realm's grievances, camped on the government's doorstep.

The miners' guild house of the Ferruhm Quarter — hiring floor, relief fund, and the city voice of the Reaches' failing Deepworks.

The shared quenching and proofing yards behind the Emberworks, where every blade in the quarter meets water — read like an oracle by its Veskarn quench-master.

The veterans' tavern of the Ferruhm Quarter, named for the melted legion standard above its bar — where Draken-Sol recruiters buy the drinks.

The Dvergani seam-hall of Coronal — a communal stone hall built from rock carried out of the three mother-seams of the Ferruhm Reaches.

Seven knee-worn stones in a ring of bare earth where seven armies knelt to end the Longwar — the legal heart of the realm, older than every wall around it.

The low circular wall of founding-stone that bounds the Crown Ward — the Emberguard's sworn charge, more boundary of law than fortification.

The capital, built where seven armies met to swear peace — a circular city of seven quarters around the Concord Tree.

The Iron quarter: forges, arms, mining guilds — martial pride currently burning with shame over the rot.

The Grain quarter: bakers, brewers, the Bread Courts and the grain exchange that feeds the city.

The Flame quarter: glassworks, alchemy and the city's dead — Glasshouse Row glowing all night.

The River quarter: the Nine Stairs wharves, barge clans, canal law and cheerful smuggling.

The Root quarter: physic gardens, herb-halls, dense poor tenements — medicine upstairs, hunger down.

The Salt quarter: the Brine Banks, old money, preserved goods and longer memories.

The Song quarter: theatres, archives, print-shops — the Echo Halls singing the realm's memory in shifts.

The Council's seat: seven doors, seven chairs, one empty throne of unfinished wood.

Seven royal grafts grown 150 years into one living colossus — the realm's crown, calendar, and patient.

Coronal's neutral heart under the Tree's canopy — law, ceremony, and the ground where the Seven Oaths were sworn.