The Marchlands and the Seams

[Maeve]

The lands surrounding World’s Mouth are rich with rolling hills, scattered forests, and tall, majestic manor houses that hold the last remnant of the old aristocracy. Countless farms and villages surround these ancient keeps, each contributing to the vast amounts of foodstuffs needed by the massive city within. To the east lies The Seams, a sprawling industrial region of the city responsible for much of the world metal supply as well as all the air and water pollution to be found in the city.

The Naturalist Saloon
A couple of streets down from the Nashorn Institute, deep within the dirty and industrial East End borough lay the ancient building housing the famous and infamous Naturalist Society. An old and influential organization within the Mouth, the Society had had its headquarters here from its founding. A set of wide stairs led up to half a dozen tall and darkly wooden doors inlaid with copper.

The impressive and towering stone facade of this large establishment housed the multi-functional lair of the intellectual elite of the Mouth when it came to technical and science subjects such as chemistry, physics, biology, and mechanics. A slightly weather-beaten wooden sign proclaimed the massive establishment for what it was.

Naturalist Saloon

The Naturalist Saloon served many functions. It was not only a debate centre for Naturalists and the quarters of the Society's tops and its administration, in addition to housing locales and equipment for members' experimentation in the cellar floors, but also a good tavern satisfying gastronomic needs as well as need for a good bath and a bed for the night.

Upon entering, any customer would immediately notice the high ceiling and the old-fashioned wooden interior of the inn, well complimented by the likewise old-fashioned, but sophisticated clients seated around tables in hot intellectual discussion while enjoying Kislovan wine or a beer. Although clean, the apartment smelt faintly old to the point of murkiness, but such an uncomfortable impression was soon drowned in the drift of hot food.

To the left was an opulent yet aging bar sided with a desk inhabited by a pair of clerks ready to take on administrative requests or questions concerning the Society and its grounds. Polished, but slightly scarred tables covered the oaken floor complimented by chairs the same style. Roused and eager voices, mainly male but not only, filled the room to the point of it all being a scholastic cacophony of technological terms and elegant formulations.

[Maeve]

The Ductusi Towers
A pair of towers that straddle the Scillus as it terminates into the Mer de la Luna, these tall, broad structures resemble many watch towers built within the township of World's Mouth with the distinct difference that they were topped with massive brass braziers to light the way for seaward navigation. Visible from some distance, the red glow of burning coal gave the towers to appear almost sinister, giving many sailors to refer to them in jest as "The Eyes of the Mouth". Despite this ominous name, the Ductusi Towers have remained a convenient navigational landmark for generations.

Built upon a foundation of imperfect stone, the towers were quite broad...more than thirty paces in width...to compensate for the soft, yielding earth upon which they were built. Despite the deep, solid foundation, the towers have shifted a considerable distance already, and the southern tower, the Grecus, has even begun to lean slightly, giving it a precarious appearance in itself, a stark contrast from Clairn, which has already sunk such that the doorway leading in lies several steps below the earth around it.

Rising up majestically over each base were the towers themselves, each over fifteen paces in width and as much as forty in height. Narrow, simple slits in the towers' surfaces climbed up their impressive height to ventilate the structures as well as bring in light, and at the top of each, a massive brass brazier held an ever-burning pile of coal, the embers often storming off in a great cloud of sparks when the wind hit them with enough force.

[Maeve]

Acula's Ferry
Carefully maintained over the last two centuries, the Ferry at Acula remains a valued and frequent method to cross the massive Greater Scillus river without passing through World's Mouth. Positioned down river from the metropolis and well before the river opened out into the Mer de la Luna, the little hamlet of Acula Ferry sits upon the northern bank of the Scillus and maintains a small group of wide, flat river boats to carry materials, animals, and people across the river.

The southern landing held little more than a tacking shed and a long, low pier resting motionless against the western current of the river. A fenced corral, placed for public use, stretched out to the west of the landing, with numerous smaller pins within to accommodate various animals and herds. A small building of weather-beaten wood stood under it's tall, imperfect chimney from which a modest plume of blue smoke timidly rose.

The northern bank held a few more buildings, a small community that grew from the inconstant and minor income that the ferry provided. Among these was a traveler's inn with a large courtyard bounded by a wooden fence as well as a shop that advertised no particular product within, leaving it rather ambiguous to the casual eye. An almost makeshift, rough landing was also located on this bank, a larger affair with several river boats tied up by the head awaiting their next turn across the massive tributary.

[Maeve]

The Nashorn Institute
Deep within the Industrial and dirty East End borough of the Mouth was the facility known as the Nashorn Institute. While the place was once a school, it no longer served in that function, though many great and unusual things might be learned by those curious enough to explore it's secrets. A difficult place to find, the massive Nashorn seemed to hide within the narrow, winding streets of the dangerous and oppressive East End, where most of the city's housing could be found as well as a good portion of it's workshops and bonds.

The Nashorn was a number of buildings, all facing the same street and joined by makeshift causeways that blocked up and eliminated what alleys might have separated them originally. It had apparently began it's life as a single building, but through time it's expansion and space needs had caused it to overflow into the neighboring buildings, each time resulting in a new causeway to be built and a new front entrance to be added to the overall building. Most of the complex had a second story, and a high public wall separated a massive yard behind the complex from everything else in the city, a wall that was undecorated and bleak in appearance, with no doors or gates.

The main entrance, if such a place could have such a thing, seemed to be the door that was flanked by the city's magnificent, multicolored standard. The Nashorn was not a government building, but it's involvement with public and government works had earned it great consideration as a valuable government resource subject to protection. At least one military organization, the famous Condotierre, were based within it's many, mismatched walls.

Within these doors, no reception desk or attendant waited. Only a pair of immaculately dressed soldiers were waiting, each armed with the finest of weapons and bearing the standard of both the Mouth and the Condotierre. This was the first sign that the Nashorn was unique, for no city guards protected it: the soldiers themselves saw to that.

[Maeve]

The Gibbets
Often called the 'wailing trees', this forest remains at the far Northeastern edge of the city, bordered on the North by the Upper Scillus and the South and West by the East End Borough. While the land remains part of the city itself, it's history and reputation has preserved it from development, making it an unlikely stretch of untouched woodland amid the growing metropolis.

Many generations past, convicts were brought to the gibbets to be hanged. Even today, the city's massive cemetery remains just around the gibbets, for only the dead would tolerate staying so near to the place. Even after a proper gallows were constructed for public executions, the ill favored reputation of the gibbets remains, with it's frequent ghost stories and rumored Lich sightings.

During the day, the woods seem little more than an ancient forest of bent and gnarled trees, most sickly from the heavy pollution of the city. During the night, however, strong is the heart that would enter it's misty interior, for the forest truly does wail and moan, possibly mourning the loss of those brought here to die so many generations ago.