The port of the Citadel was clearly added later, after the ancient ones finished building the city. It forms a small section just outside the concentric circles that form the city, with docks and warehouses dominating its looks. This port is the main port of the entire Empire, hence all tradehouses have their headquarters here.
There are, of course, several shipping docks, including the infamous Outlaws’ Warf. Day in to day out, an abundance of life comes into and leaves the docks. The Docks bring the world to the Citadel and makes her economy thrive; without them the Citadel would parish. The Docks serve for many purposes. Business at the docks is like clock work and there is an almost continuous stream of traffic between them and the city.
As ships approach they are directed to a slip at which time passengers may disembark. Looking down the rows of ships, there a many different types, brigs, galleons, schooners, all proudly resting in the water waiting to sail off to the next port of call. All except one. At the front of the pier, sitting proudly at the first slip rests a ship whose keel hovers feet above the surface of the water. An airship, she proudly flies flags of the Western Kingdom, from where she is the first to journey on a mission of trade.
The gates themselves are a scene of barely controlled chaos. Peddlers, beggers, sailors, and drunkards seem to mill about with no rhyme or reason. Those who had heard of the unparallelled efficeincy of the Ceaser`s Purple Guard who ran the gate are suprised to find it now run by the Blue Tabarded City Guard. Many of the uniforms are mismatched and stained, and the guard themselves mix an air of resignation and contempt as they question each person attempting to gain entry. The area in front of the gate is nearly always croweded. Still with enough patience, or a couple of well placed elbows, it is possible to get to the front of the line.
Stepping off the gangplank Martinello threw the small knapsack containing the sum of his possessions over his shoulder jauntily. Suddenly free of the obligations that had paid for his passage he truly was his own man now. Uncertain how long ago exactly it had been since he had left home he did a quick mental calculation. If he was not much mistaken he reasoned that it must now be Samheen the 27th.
It was good to be on firm ground again, the swell of the ocean had been much more than anything he had ever experienced before. The closest he had been to a ship before this journey had been a rowboat. That had rocked to and fro as the occupants threw themselves back and forth with great vigour and racous laughter. But that didn’t compare to the way the ship seemed controlled by the sea rather than the other way round. It was still a wonder to him that the sailors had harnessed the power of the wind and sails to manoeuvre the ship in the directions they dictated.
Breathed deeply inhaled the new smells with a sense of wonderment. Everything was going be to grand. Lodgings first, a good meal, ale in that order. And then its time to spend a bit of time listening and learning to find out what’s what.
Without another thought he set off towards the gate he presumed led further into the citadel.
