292 rooms · levels 17–50
A hall of pure goodness, the walls are lined with images of good deeds. The white marble floor is veined with bits of gold. The hall is lit with glowing balls of white light.
You find yourself in an entrance foyer to the Dancing Daemon Inn. Chrome plated stairs spiral up to the reception area. To the south you hear the sounds of merriment and drinking and from the west you hear the bustling activity of Port Mir.
You are now standing in the reception of Port Mir. A huge mahogany desk is here along with two sofas and a coffee table covered in magazines. The plush carpeting under your feet is a nice change from the rugged paths you are used to travelling. A chrome stairway spirals downstairs to the tavern of the Dancing Daemon Inn, and your future adventures in Port Mir.
A huge circular wet-bar takes up most of the east end of the Daemon. An old mage reclines against the mirror behind the bar, absentmindedly pouring several drinks at once with his refined telekinesis. The Lokettes, a local band, are playing their usual gig on the stage, and the large booths along the wall are filled with people drinking and having a grand time. The only obvious exit is to the north.
You stand on the Medina, on the larger open areas in Port Mir. People walk to and fro carrying on their day to day business. The Common Square of the people opens up to the south and the Medina continues north.
You are walking along a wide open expanse of road connecting the market square to the common square. Panhandlers, beggars, and other such riff-raff are everywhere.
The large square of markets fills your vision. Strange sights and sounds, those known only to the Port Mir market, barrage your senses. The only hope of making any sense of what's going on here is to wander around. The Market continues north, west, and east, with the Medina trailing off south.
You are standing on the Center of Market Square, the famous square of Port Mir. A large, peculiar looking statue is standing in the middle of the square. The square extends in every direction.
In this corner of the market some of the largest warriors in the land tower over you. It's easy to understand why they hangout here once you notice the weapon shop and the armory close by. Perhaps you might stop in and take a look at the wares these shops have to offer.
This area of the market seems relatively quiet, save the high pitch banter of the shopkeeps attempting to lure you into their stores. South you see the bread stand and west is the entrance to the general store. The market's sprawl continues east and north of here.
This area of the square seems a bit more subdued than the rest. You notice that most of the outland adventurers mill around the southern end of the market, while the townsfolk seem to keep their business in the northern end. West Main street begins here and heads for the gate, the market's expanse fills the other directions.
People pass by talking to each other or resting their weary bones on this grassy field. The rushing of the river can be heard from the south, where the river bridge and the southern gate are found.
Beyond the walls of the city to the south is a desert region. There is nothing of interest that way. To the north, across the river, is the bustling city of Port Mir.
Walking over the bridge you see the rushing waters of the Ishtar River. To the south you see the Southern Gate of Port Mir and the Common Square stretches out to the north.
Two large stone towers rise up to greet you with the massive iron gate swinging on ornately crafted hinges and emblazoned with the crest of Port Mir. The makers of the city spared no expense in rebuilding the defenses of their home. The Ishtar River bridge lies to the north and wilderness to the south.
This corner of the market contains some of the most civilized folk in Port Mir. To the north lies the humble store of the merchant Ahkeem, his weavings known to be the best in the city. West of here is the entrance to the First Royal Bank of Port Mir.
You stand in one of the most heavily used parts of town. To the north lies the Palace of Port Mir and the Casbah, east west and south of here the busy market thrives with life.
Pandemonium. Chaos. Madness. A few other choice words come to mind as you gaze into this corner of the market. The vegetable stand seems quiet enough so you have to assume the noise comes from the Butchery. You have to think for a while before you muster the will to enter this shop. The market continues to the south and west.
You stand in the market of Port Mir, the gem of the desert. The market is the hub of the city, all trade and commerce of any significance is carried on here. The market spreads out in all directions save east, here Main Street heads for the eastern gate.
This cobblestone road makes for an easy journey through town. To the north is the palace and the Dancing Daemon Inn, and south is the market square. It is said that almost anything in the world can be found in the Port Mir market.
This part of the road travels between one of the sturdy walls of the Palace and the Dancing Daemon. To the east you peer through a small window into the Daemon, seeing many people dancing and drinking. After you tend to your other chores you plan on visiting the Daemon. The walk continues north and south from here.
The road here between the palace and the Dancing Daemon Inn seems well worn by the travel of horses, carts, and leather boots. From the west you hear the faint sound of trumpets announcing the arrival of some duke or duchess to the palace. Safe haven awaits you to the east in the halls of the Daemon, and Sultan's Walk continues north and south.
The main road north from the square continues here, surrounded by the walls of the palace and the Dancing Daemon. To the north is a heavily guarded gate and from the south come the faint sounds of trade.
Two large stone towers rise up to greet you with a massive iron gate swinging between on ornately crafted hinges and emblazoned with the crest of Port Mir. The makers of this city spared no costs in rebuilding the defenses of their home. Sultan's Walk runs to the south and the Casbah stretches out east and west. To the north is wilderness.
Two large stone towers embedded in the wall loom over you. The massive iron gate, emblazoned with the crest of Port Mir, swings easily on four ornately crafted hinges. It is obvious the makers of this city spared no expense in protecting their home. Main street heads towards the market eastward and the wilderness beckons from the west. To the south lies the entrance to the warriors guild.
This is the main road traveling through the city. To the south you hear the hammering of the repair shop and to the north is the grassy field known as the temple square. Main street continues east and west.
A foreman stands here watching over two construction workers fixing a pothole. The road here branches off north and south into two alleys behind the stores of the market. The main street continues east and west from here.
You are strolling on the street between the bank and general store. To the West you hear a roadcrew at work and to the East, the sounds of commerce taking place. The air is filled with the smell of gold and riches. On the wall of the store is a poster.
Here on East Main, you smell the odor of freshly slaughtered meat and, hear the pounding of new metal from the armory. The Square is to the west and a junction is to the East.
You are on East Main Street. To the North is the beginning of Guildsman Row. To the South is a dark alley. The road also continues to the East. There is a small sign on a wire hanging across the junction.
As you walk by the mercenary guild a cold chill causes you to shiver uncontrollably. You see some shady looking characters lurking about the entrance to this house of 'helpful' people. Perhaps curiosity gets the best of you, but you wonder what could be going on inside. To the north you see the open doors of the apothecary shop where one may buy many magical libations. Main Street continues east and west from here.
The Main street through eastern Port Mir begins here and heads westward towards the marketplace. One of the main gates can be seen to the east and Braheem's Magic Shop awaits your business to the north.
Two large stone towers imbedded in the wall loom over you. The massive iron gate, emblazoned with the crest of Port Mir, swings easily on four ornately crafted hinges. It is obvious the makers of this city spared no expense in protecting their home. Main street heads towards the market westward and the wilderness beckons from the east. To the north lies the entrance to the mages guild.
Nothing in your life has prepared you for the odor which fills your lungs. Not wanting to offend the beautiful shopkeeper you hold your tongue and quietly look over her selection.
This is the warehouse district of Port Mir. Strong men walk back and forth from the docks to the warehouse carrying large crates loading and unloading the boats as they sail down the river. To the north is one of the entrances of the warehouse and West Ishtar leads east.
A few men walk by almost pushing you out of the way as they go about their business of loading and unloading the boats. An entrance to the huge warehouses of Port Mir is to the north and the Ishtar River quietly flows by to the south. Ishtar Drive continues east and west.
The cobblestone road is moist here, the trail of water heading down to the boat ramp. Catching your balance as you start to slide on the slick pavement you grab on to the handrail someone has conveniently placed here. To the north is the Shipwright and Ishtar Drive continues east and west.
A cool breeze blows up off the river chilling the sweat otherwise present in the direction of the warehouses. The common square opens up to the east and Ishtar Drive continues west.
Loud hammering and the sound of red hot iron cooling in water reaches your ears as you stand in front of the blacksmith. A small boy runs up to you with big eyes and as you return his gaze runs off down the road. The common square can be seen to the west and Ishtar Drive continues to the east.
The wide road bordering the south of town continues to the east west here, bordered only by the hay-loft to the north and the Ishtar River to the south.
Small clumps of hay strewn about the ground alerts you to the fact that you have reached the stables. Arabian stallions as well as many other fine breeds of horses can be purchased for a price. Ishtar road continues east and west.
Even in broad daylight, you can hardly see into the back alley that begins here and heads north. Sounds of loud drunken folk and the occasional screaming cat emanate from the direction. Luckily you have the choice of going east or west down the drive as well.
Your highly acute sense of smell reports you have reached the entrance to the fish market. Although renowned for its fresh catches and wide selection of aquarian delicacies you wonder how much longer you can endure the smell! The Ishtar River flows alongside to the south with the drive running along side it east to west.
The sound of squawking gulls and the smell of rotting fish gives you a hint of your location. The Ishtar River flows south of you, but looks crystal clear, so it cannot be the source of this putrid smell. Looking north you notice a small sign hanging over the dump.
This sloped slab of stone runs down into the river's channel, so boats can be hauled in and out. Boats are moored at its foot, waiting for their masters to return from the warehouses and the pubs. The waters of the Ishtar lap at the bottom of the ramp below, and Ishtar Drive is to the north.
The air takes on a somber note before the jailhouse of Port Mir; hopefully you will never see it from the inside. The northwest tower stands here with a spiral staircase leading up. The avenue ends here, leading only east.
You have almost reached the end of the avenue in this direction, the number of guards in this part of town is nearly doubled. To the north the familiar city wall protects you from the wilderness. Looking south marble stairs rise towards the entrance of city hall surrounded by massive white pillars. The avenue continues west and south from here.
The wall of the palace curves south from here, a darkened alley runs along it in that direction. West of here you see the steps of the city hall and notice the increase in the number of guards. To the east the avenue continues.
As you travel down the road towards the city hall you look up at the guards walking along the wall keeping watch. South of you stands the great walls of the palace and the avenue goes east and west.
The cobblestone pavement runs along the north wall here. South of you stand the great walls of the palace and the avenue goes east and west.
The activity here is only slightly less than chaotic. Young boys run to and fro with stern intent, and older gentleman swagger down the street towards the library. To the west you can see the tall towers of the northern gate, and the avenue continues east.
Walking along the cobblestone path you feel secure with the walls of the city towering over you. You hear the scraping sounds of metal on stone and look up to see a large, strong guard looking out to the north. To the east lies the intersection on Guildsman's Row and the northern gate is a short walk to the west.
The din of the guilds assaults your senses as you reach this intersection, the sound of hammering, the smell of tanned leather, and the smoke rising from the smithy all rush up to greet you. The avenue continues east and west from here and the row leads south.
You walk between the solid stone wall of the city and that of the Mason's guild. Young children on their nanny's walk around enjoying the safety of the city. The avenue runs east and west from here.
You have almost reached the end of the avenue in this direction. Walking towards the north-east corner of the city you notice the population density here is much less than the rest of the town. A few old men hobbling on canes and young men intent on studies are the only travelers of the path to the library on a regular basis. The avenue continues east and west from here.
The avenue ends here, turning south to become Kali Row. Traveling in that direction will take you to the library and the grand dance hall of the city. The Northeast Tower of the wall is accessible here up a spiral staircase.
This is a small, newly added section of the town. The city's library can be entered through the door to the west and The Casbah begins its journey a little ways north of here. The row and the entrance to the dance hall is to the south.
The short row ends abruptly here at the entrance to the dance hall of Port Mir. The entrance to the hall is to the west and the row continues northward.
The small passage comes down from the north and turns east. There is a rancid smell here, as if something is rotting. A cricket is chirping somewhere, but suddenly falls silent.
A dark alley runs south between the high wall of the palace and the side of City Hall. Not a lot here, unless you are partial to spiders and rats. The Casbah is back to the north.
This surprisingly clean alley ends in a blank wall. Some graffiti involving an efreet and a donkey has been drawn quite artistically on the wall in chalk. The alley leads back out to the north.
This row is a hive of activity second only to the actual market square itself. Along this row stands all the guilds of the working class citizens of Port Mir. Here all the items sold in the square are made. Along this particular stretch of the row lie the Boyer/ Fletcher to the west and the Mason's to the east. The row leads off to the south and East Casbah is to the north.
The guilds continue here, to the west is the Weaver's guild, and to the east stands the Craftsman's Guild. The row of guilds continues north and south from here.
Only one guild offers its door to this stretch of the row, the Tanner's Guild, to the west. To the east is a beautifully sculpted marble door allowing entrance to the Museum of the Greater Gods. The row of Guilds leads north and south.
After the guilds were built the people of the city used some of the extra space to erect a shrine to their patron saints. The result of this labor became the Museum of the greater gods. You may enter the sacred hall to the east.
This small cramped road is worn with travel as apprentices to the guilds run merchandise from the guildhouses to the shops on market square. The guildhouses lie to the north and Main street is to the south.
The alley is dark and dismal, so no matter how one sees, with a good light or a magical vision, nothing but dark dullness is visible. The alley continues south and the street is to the north.
The alley is very dark, and dismal. It continues to the east and north. To the west is a shop, that looks very prosperous for such a poor location.
Even with a light or a spell no one can penetrate the magical cloak of darkness covering this alley. What is it that is being hidden so powerfully? The alley runs on south to Ishtar Drive and back west; a filthy inn stands to the east.
This is a tiny corner at the end of the alley, shut in by the back wall of the palace kitchens. There is a fair amount of footprints leading east.
The alley runs east and west behind the palace kitchens, and the smell of cooking drifts over the wall. There is an unusual amount of wear on the ground here, around a heavy iron cover in the cobbles.
A tiny alley runs off between the palace kitchens and the bank. You hear shouting and roadwork back to the south. The ground is rough and in need of repair, and in the road is a small pothole. The alley turns west.
A small alley runs south from West Main Street behind the general store. Nothing much here but small rodents and dust.
This is a small corner in the alley behind the warehouses and the guild of warriors. You notice some small scrapings to the west.
The alley ends here as do the footprints you had noticed earlier.
You are in a small underground passage beneath the city. A small glint of light comes from above, around the edges of a manhole cover, and the passage runs a long way south.
The tunnel branches here: north toward a manhole, a long way east under the streets, and a short way west.
The tunnel turns here and heads south and west. A small glint of light comes from a manhole above.
The passage ends here and you hear some low chanting from the west. You also notice the clearing of dust on the ground but can't seem to find any door in that direction.
The small passage turns here, west and south. You hear the sounds of the city above you, through a manhole.
The tunnel runs north and east from here. Hopefully you have a good sense of direction.
High above, on the top of the city wall, guards look down to see if anyone wishes to exit the city via water. To do so they must open the iron grating to the east from above. The horrid smell of the dump wafts down from the shore.
The gentle flow of the river meanders westward between high stone banks. Above, couples stroll along the drive. To the west is the southern bridge, and far to the east the iron grating that protects the city from unwanted guests.
Voices from above echo here, in the area under the grand stone bridge that leads south out of the city. The city construction crews have just recently finished the small ladder giving common-folk easy access to the river. To the west and east the river flows by the city.
This part of the river is alive with activity. Boats moored at the foot of the boat ramp, up on the bank above, make navigation a bit more trying. The river flows on westward toward the iron grating, and the bridge lies to the east.
The river flows out of the city, and through a huge iron grating, to the wilderness to the west. Strong guards above await word to open the portal should any citizen require exit or entry.
You seem to have stumbled into a small hand made passage. The wall to the west doesn't look quite right but searching it reveals no secret doors. The only exit it seems is east.
The small passage continues east and west. Again you notice something peculiar about the wall, this time to the north, and voices can be faintly heard from that direction. A huge boulder stands in the middle of the passage.
The small passage ends here for no apparent reason. Looking around you find a small ladder half buried in the dirt; set up, it reaches a trap door in the ceiling. The passage leads back west.
The small passage continues west and east.
The passage runs a long way east from here under the market, the drip of water echoing ahead. To the west it continues toward the manholes.
You have entered a large hall with passages leading off in all directions. A large table dominates the center of this hall with many chairs where the clan gathers for feasting, merriment, and meetings. On the walls hang large tapestries paying homage to their leader Conner MacCleod.
Climbing up the staircase you enter the hovel of a curious mage. A small uncomfortable looking bed rests in the corner, surrounded by ancient tomes. On the worn desk next to the window candles burn low, casting strange shadows on the walls. The only noticeable decor is the mounted head of the Demi-Lich.
Brrrrrr, it's COLD in here. Must be 30 below. It would seem the cleric Ice lives up to his name. Healing herbs and other such things line the walls in racks, holy symbols and pictures cover the walls, and the smiley face button stuck on his bedpost tells you he'll probably help you out all he can. As you turn to leave the room the mounted head of Kalas stares past you into emptiness.
Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his Dark Throne In the Land of Mordor where Shadows lie. One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
If I have to explain, you wouldn't understand.
Now here's a room that is easy to understand. A bed, a dresser, and a rack for weapons and armor are all that occupy it. Some posters adorn the walls, to add color, proclaiming things such as Live fast, Die Young, and a homemade one in the corner with a picture of Ice and under it the inscription, "I LOVE the resurrection spell". The only thing out of place in this happy-go-lucky room is mounted head of Crimson Death.
You have entered the grand hall of the castle. A huge throne dominates a raised area in the northern part of the room. In front of this stands a drafting table.
The passage ends at a crude wall of rubble to the east that someone has dug through, low enough to crawl. The sewers lie back to the west.
You walk down the staircase into the silent inner sanctum. Here sits your guildmaster ready to assist you when the time is right. The room is completely silent. The only obvious exit is back up the staircase into the Nectar.
You have entered the chamber of the most holy man in Port Mir. The High Priest advises the Sultan on all matters in the world of the sacred. From what you have heard however, this holy man has a bit of a temper, and he doesn't look very happy that you've disturbed his prayers. The only obvious exit is south.
You are by the temple altar in the northern end of Temple of Port Mir. A huge altar made of highly polished black onyx is standing in front of you. Behind this altar sits a twelve foot tall statue of Celestian, the highest god in all the lands.
Rows and rows of uncut cloth lie about waiting to be hemmed up into tailored clothes. Cotton is brought in from the country side and spun up into cloth and dyed different colors. A young boy walks in, grabs a pile of clothing and leaves.
You have entered a busy workshop filled with people running amok with various tools and materials. The air is tense with the rush to complete various projects and creations.
The temple continues here, but not on such a grand scale. The place still looks immaculate. To the north you see the chamber of the High Priest and a sign on the door in BIG letters that says DO NOT DISTURB. To the south is the entrance to the Cleric's Guild.
Huge marble pillars rise on either side of you and grab hold of the ceiling. Between each of these, fine softstone frescoes have been carved depicting scenes from the religious history of Port Mir. Rows of pews face forward giving their full attention to the pulpit rising high above the ground. The deep red carpeting underfoot shows not a speck of wear or dirt. It's obvious that Port Mirians take religion seriously.
This room is new to the temple, it was created during the hard times that had struck the city in recent decades. Luckily for them the sultan had been hoarding some of the basic necessities for just such an occasion. These days the donation room depends on the generosity of wealthy adventurers, and a curse on any that walk in to get all.
Four large stone statues reside in the museum. They were constructed by the people of Port Mir to pay homage to the saints they believe to have saved all their lives.
This hall pales in comparison to that of the main hall, but is beautiful in its own right. Shaven heads and brown robes can be seen milling about quietly talking to each other. North is back inside the temple proper, and south is the entrance to the cleric's bar.
You stand before the entrance way to the Temple of Port Mir. Two large wrought iron gates lie open before you. Although they might not ever be used the priests in the temple are ready to defend themselves, should their city ever come under siege again.
You step into a shop swirling with smoke. Ahkeem seems to have a liking for things not of this world...very strange stuff indeed.
This is a busy place. Customers shuffle around, bartering for lower prices on the wide selection of vegetables. You can still hear your mother telling you 'Eat your Veggies'. That's probably why you're mudding right now and not hanging out with mom. But wait...Vera looks just like your mother!
This room matches the hall to the north but is furnished in a less 'important' manner: smaller statues, plainer pedestals. The impression is respectful. Guildsman's Row is to the west.
You walk into a cold room whose only feature is an old wooden staircase spiraling up along the wall to a higher level. Up these stairs you are told lie the old mage who may be able to help you advance in your studies.
You enter a small tiled courtyard with a small fountain in the middle. Around the sides are four wrought iron benches with cushions where the mages of the land sit and exchange ideas. To the west stands a two-story tower where the leader of the mage's guild performs his experiments.
You are startled by the lavishness of this place. From what you know of clerics they are supposed to be humble people, giving all their material goods to their cause. Perhaps because only clerics are allowed to enter this bar they have condoned making it as comfortable as possible. In the corner stands a staircase leading down to the meditation chambers.
You are standing on the meeting grounds of those with holy intentions. Monks, bards, paladins and clerics mill around either preaching or listening to their fellows preach. Huge marble steps lead up to the gates of the temple and Main Street lies to the south.
You stand in a large building decorated with black marble and red satin. Huge pillars support an arched ceiling far above your head. You wonder at the skill the dwarves have for detail as you examine the trim. Fine silver separates the polished blocks that make up the floor.
This shop has the aroma of freshly slaughtered beasts. You feel right at home. You see a fairly simple set up. The corpses... er...selections hang on hooks, still bleeding into catch pans that drain into a single underground vat. You wonder where that leads....
The first thing you notice as you walk into this spacious shop is the hundreds of candles that line the shelves. The swirling mist that surrounds your feet makes it seem that you have stepped into a gateway to another plane. A tall brunette stands behind her cluttered table unaware of your entrance.
You enter a shop crowded with bookshelves and cluttered with scrolls. The owner seems to be hard at work on his latest magical creation. You see a small sign on the wall.
The entrance hall is a small poorly lighted room. It would seem its only purpose is to house the powerful sorcerer standing here guarding the entrance.
This small hall is merely a check point to keep the unwanted out.
One of the most popular shops in Port Mir, this shop is always a hive of activity. It is almost inhuman the way one man can fix all the areas armor single-handedly. If you have an item in need of repair simply give it to the man behind the counter.
The new found wealth of this beautiful city is apparent in the exotic items for sale here. You wonder what would happen if you typed....LIST...
The sound of hammering metal grows louder as you enter the armory. Young boys run to and fro carrying buckets of water and coal. A few dwarves work on sections of armor in the back of the shop. Their hammers working too fast to follow. The walls are adorned in all of Abdul's prize creations. Here you can purchase suits of armor meant to keep monsters from hacking you into little pieces. A note on the wall beckons newbies.
This guild is frowned upon by most of the population of Port Mir, but the laws of supply and demand are irresistible. People come here when they feel unable or are unwilling to fight their own battles. For a small fee you may hire henchman.
This is the storage room for the mercenaries to be hired.
This small, dark room has a single torch mounted in the wall for light. There is a small wooden bench and a book lying on it. The assassin guarding the entrance from 'outsiders' stands as you walk in.
Very large men with very large swords drink beer from very large mugs. Everything in this room is BIG. The large round tables are scuffed and nicked from countless bar brawls, so it might be a good idea to hold your tongue for a while as you soak up the atmosphere. To the east, the master swordsman awaits pupils to train with; the guild's entrance is to the north.
This is a wide expanse of grass filled with dummies, punching bags and swordpupils. To the north you see a man dressed in black robes, unlike his iron clad comrades, who you assume to be your master.
A small stand has been set up here, showing the shopkeep's humble selection. You notice he has added a few things to his list.
The selection of deadly weapons has a very frightening potential for destruction. Huge swords and wicked looking axes hang on pegs around the room. A dwarf sits at a bench in the back hammering away on his latest creation. It is here you can buy rare and exotic items not found in other parts of the world. There is a bump under the rug on the floor. Like something is hidden there.
You are standing on a thick oriental rug surrounded on all sides by racks of numerous leather goods. A few women sit on leather cushions sewing in some detail work on custom ordered jackets.
You are inside a filthy inn, that seemingly hasn't been cleaned in decades. Poker tables line the walls and everyone stares at you as you walk in, you don't feel very welcome. The bar has numerous knife holes in it and the bartender leans over waiting for your order.
A draft chills your bones as you enter, though you see no open window or door. Hooded figures lurk around in the shadows and speak in low voices. A flash of steel lets you know that weapons are in great abundance in this crowd. As you quickly check your beltpouch you notice a small staircase leading down.
You are standing in a large room used to store merchandise made in the city before it is shipped off. All the items here are made in Port Mir and shipped to other parts of the land.
Men walk to and fro counting crates and writing down their findings. This area of the warehouse is used for storing the raw materials brought in from areas outside the city. These goods are then delivered to the various guilds. The export area of the warehouses is to the south.
The wood under your feet creaks from years of being soaked in saltwater. An old man with a curly, gray beard stands behind a small counter waiting to take your order. Behind him are mounted various model sailboats and large fish.
The walls are covered with paper sketchings of hull designs. This room is used by the shipwright to build his creations on paper before making a single cut in wood.
Very much like the weaponsmith this man deals in the molding of metal. It seems that most of his creations deal with horses. On the walls you see several horseshoes made of iron. The room is hot, hotter than the desert just south of here, and one wonders how the smithy can stand it.
Several stalls hold the Sultan's choice Arabian stallions, each with its own trough. A small boy wanders in now and then with a shovel to remove the offensive by-product of such beasts, and a ladder climbs to the hay loft above.
This is a hidden yard known to only a few people in Port Mir. Here you may train in the arts of stealing, picking locks, and becoming almost invisible. A small staircase leads back up to the unicorn.
This is the place where the people of the city dump their trash. Due to the constant winds blowing down the mountains the smell is usually blown outside the walls and over the desert.
You stand in the top of an old stone tower. Along the walls hundreds of potions, scrolls, and wands lie in disarray. The man you see before you sits hunched over a small wooden table with two beakers of bubbling liquid in front of him. He looks up as you enter and smiles broadly.
Not as big as the ones on farms in the country, this hay loft keeps the feed for the horses in the stables below. The young boy with the shovel seems to have taken up residence up here. A ladder leads back down.
Nowhere have you seen such an obscene display of wealth than in this corridor. The shag carpeting under your feet makes it seem as if you are walking on a cloud. Platinum candelabras hang delicately from the ceiling casting light on the ancient tapestries adorning the walls. The crick in your neck tells you it's time to stop staring. To the west the numerous halls of the palace begin and the gate lies to the east.
This building holds the vast collection of books and documents that have been brought here by the committee appointed to recover the lost knowledge of Mir. Rows of shelves filled with books in every condition line the walls. The air has the aroma of old parchment and glue.
You seem to have missed a huge party. The janitors are here cleaning up the confetti and cigarette butts. Hundreds of empty beer mugs on the tables surrounding the dance floor suggest that the citizens love their drink. There is still a banner on the wall.
You are in jail. For some reason the gods feel that you have erred badly and should be put away safely for a while.
You stand inside the administrative head of the city. Here the decisions regarding city policy are made. Although the Sultan's word is law, he usually spends his time on affairs outside the city wall.
The walls in this room are covered with pegs that hold various types of bows. There are few people working here, lending to the fact that the skills are rare to come by in the general populace. A few boys are busy in the corner preparing feathers for the fine shafts used in making arrows. Some Elven craftsmen are carefully inspecting each bow as it is finished.
There is no doubt that the Dwarves here know what they're doing. They have been invaluable in the building of this beautiful city. Here they are hard at work doing what they do best. The hammers fly in a blur as these talented craftsmen work the stone into ornate bricks, pillars, trim, and many other forms.
You stand inside the southern of the two main guard houses. The stone interior has a spartan look to it, only the bare necessities. A few weapons are mounted on the walls in case they might be needed.
You stand before a magnificently crafted gate wrought in solid gold. You gape in awe at the splendor of the spiraling towers beyond the portal. The ruler of all the eastern lands resides in this fine palace, and he is not a poor man. The grand entrance lies beyond the gate, and Sultan's walk is to the east.
This is one of the four towers guarding the city. The view from here is great! To the west is an area of the desert of Anauroch called The Sword, perhaps due to its curved shape, or perhaps due to the swords favored by the people who live there. The Ishtar river slowly flows down that direction. South is the entire city of Port Mir, and the wastes south of the river.
You stand inside the northern of the two main guard houses. Strong guards are seated here, playing cards. The stone interior is clean but bare walled save the weapons and armor mounted in the walls. The only exit is south.
Your footsteps echo off the stone tiles of the kitchen. On the south wall you see the large fire place and a huge copper pot bubbling merrily. The chef is busy chopping up greens and other vegetables at the wooden table for tonight's meal. Servants scurry about grabbing utensils and preparing fresh hares. A small door leads out into the hall northward and the door to the dining hall is west.
This old guard tower has been converted into the home of the new guildmaster. The room has shimmering blue and gold floor and wall coverings. The room is lit with a ball of glowing light, that hangs in the center of the room. A neatly kept bed rests along one wall.
You are at the eastern end of the southern hallway. A small servants entrance gives access to the kitchen and the hall continues west.
You first notice the pungent smell of freshly tanned leather goods as you enter this strange place. The next thing that grabs your attention is the many colors that these people have transformed the beautiful skins into. The people are stretching the leather and cutting it into the shapes they need. You notice a small message on a wall.
You have come to the eastern end of the northern hallway. The only exit is west except for the simple wooden door to the north. There is a golden plaque above the door.
As you step into this room you seem to leave the material plane. The walls here are decorated with beautiful, multicolored tiles. There is a strange stillness about the air. You sense the presence of an all mighty being.
You stand outside the gate of Port Mir. The city lies to the south, and wilderness to the north.
You stand outside the protective walls of the city. The massive iron gate sits to the west and the unknown awaits you eastward.
You stand outside the city walls, the iron gate to the east. The city lies in that direction and the road into the deep desert lies west. This is a busy gateway, with local peasants streaming in to the market in the morning, and out again as the heat of the day, and siesta time, approaches. A group of adventurers is also forming, with plans to hunt in the desert for lost treasures. It is unlikely they will ever be seen again.
You are in a small clearing outside the east wall of the city. The ground seems well trodden but you can see no apparent exit save that north.
A long oaken table, covered with silverware, plates and a tablecloth with gold trim, dominates the room. No diners have come yet, but servants sprint about setting the table and placing condiments. The kitchen is to the east, and two huge double doors open into the hallway to the north.
You stand at a T-crossing in the long hallways: the southern hall runs east and west, and a corridor leads north to the crossing. Two large double doors open to the south.
Here the palace's halls meet. Wooden corridors lead north to the northern hallway, south to the southern one and east toward the Grand Entrance, while to the west an archway opens on the Sultan's garden.
The northern hallway runs east and west from here, and a corridor leads south to the crossing. A large iron door is set in the north wall.
You enter a cold damp room with bare roughly hewn stone walls. This room seems very out of place compared to the splendor of the rest of the palace. A large steel grating leads down into darkness, and an iron door returns you to the hallway.
This is a simple room used for visiting nobleman. A small dresser stands on the east wall with a mirror hung right above it. A queen sized bed made up in satin sheets stands in the middle of the room against the south wall under a window. The only obvious exit is north back out into the hallway.
The long hall continues here with a wooden door in the south wall. On the north wall hangs the picture of some forgotten nobleman who once ruled the land.
You have entered the Sultan's private gardens. A light sweat breaks out on your skin from the humidity. All around are thousands of exotic plants and flowers, and the sweet smell of jasmine and honeysuckle reminds you of happier days at home. A few white steps climb to a delicate gazebo among the palm trees, and beside them stands a gold sign. An archway leads east into the palace, and a path winds away west through the greenery.
The long hallway continues east and west from here. A small red carpet runs down its middle, and an occasional bench or potted plant lines the walls. There is a door to the north with a plaque mounted over it.
You are standing in the Sultan's tribute to the finer virtues. Large paintings hang from the walls displaying nature scenes, nudes, and glorious victories in battle. Strange sculptures rest on pedestals at each corner of the room and mirrors are placed in strategic locations so the viewer may see an entire sculpture at a glance. Your eyes, however, are pulled towards a painting that dominates the far wall.
This is another room made up for visiting nobles. There is a dresser up against the eastern wall with a mirror above it and a queen sized bed, made up in satin sheets, against the south wall.
This is the western end of the southern hallway. Another guest room is to the south. To the west is a wondrously carved massive set of double doors. Carved into the doors patterns are dire warnings for all visitors to NOT enter the harem chambers.
A small white wooden gazebo stands among the palms, a few steps above the garden paths. The sounds of birds and the smell of flowers fill the air: you believe you have never been in a more peaceful setting. Steps lead back down into the garden.
This is the western end of the northern hallway. Two doors are set in the walls here, one to the north, another to the west.
You stand in a barren chamber lined with nothing but cots and footlockers. The guards come here when off duty to sleep, for they may only leave the palace grounds with special permission. The only exit is to the south.
This is living quarters for the guards of the palace. Barren compared to the rest of the palace, you see only cots and footlockers here. On the walls you see pictures of well known knights who have given a proud name to the Sultan's Guard.
This is the room where the Sultan keeps the beautiful women of his palace. There are ten girls here lying about the room dressed in silks you can almost see through. In the western end of the room stands a large mound of pillows and a beautiful young maiden sits perched atop. It is unfortunate for you that only the Sultan is allowed in here.
This is a secret chamber allowing the Sultan direct access to his harem at any time he chooses.
You stand in the throne room of the mighty Sultan of Port Mir. Guards stand at attention near his side ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for their beloved leader. The gold inlaid throne studded with jewels stands upon a marble dais. The Sultan is not a man to be trifled with.
You have somehow managed to gain access to the treasure vault of the Sultan. The alarm sounding in the background tells you that you must have tripped off some kind of alarm system. It might be advisable to grab as much stuff as you possibly can and run for the door.
At the bottom of the long ladder lies a small cave-like room. There is a small bench with some old magazines and a low-burning candle off to one side. A door is set into the stone of the south wall, and the steel grating opens far up above.
You stand at the east end of a roughly hewn stone tunnel. A cell lies to the east and another to the south; the jailer's room is through the door to the north, and the tunnel runs a long way west.
You stand in a roughly hewn stone tunnel with cells to the north and south. A narrow stair, closed off by a locked door, climbs steeply up through the rock overhead. The tunnel continues east and west.
You stand in a roughly hewn stone tunnel with cells to the north and south. The tunnel continues east and west.
You stand in a roughly hewn stone tunnel with cells to the north and south. The tunnel continues east, and you notice a small crack in the stone to the west.
This room seems more like a lair than a cell. Small bits of hay lie strewn about the floor covering bones of unknown origin. Spattered blood and tufts of gray hair lie matted in one corner. As you turn to leave you notice a pair of small red eyes peering at you from the darkness.
A cold, cramped cell. Someone has scratched a long tally of days into the wall, then stopped. The only way out is the cell door to the west.
This cell is barely long enough to lie down in. A rusted chain hangs from a ring in the wall, its other end empty. The cell door is to the south.
Water seeps down one wall of this cell and pools in a corner, and the air smells of mold. The cell door is to the south.
A heap of old straw is the only furniture in this cell, and something small has made its nest in it. The cell door is to the south.
A cold, cramped cell. A crude map of the palace has been scratched into the floor, as if someone had planned to leave. The cell door is to the north.
This cell is darker than the others; the light from the tunnel barely reaches past the bars. The cell door is to the north.
A broken wooden bowl and a spoon lie on the floor of this cramped cell, long since licked clean. The cell door is to the north.
The ceiling of this cell is so low that a tall prisoner could not stand. Someone has written a prayer to Celestian on the wall in what might be blood. The cell door is to the north.
You stand in a large cedar wood hall leading east and west. On the floor lies a thin and narrow purple rug. The hall leads west inside the palace and east to the Grand Entrance.
The path is relatively easy going here. It slopes up and down frequently, but it is well maintained so footing is secure. The layers of rock on the mountainside are in alternating light and dark bands, and tilt steeply up to the east. The trail continues to the south and west.
Travel is hard and slow due to large boulders fallen on the ground. They are round, and white, like giant eggs. The wind is still here, oddly. The way continues north and east.
A deep chasm splits the mountain to the east of here. The roar of the wind through the rift sounds like the roars of mighty animals intermixed with screams of pain. It is very dark down there! A small rope bridge sways above the chasm.
The rope bridge crosses a deep chasm, with winds that howl down its length. Or is it something else howling down there? The bridge is made of two tough woven ropes, with planks tied across, from one rope to the other. One guide rope is strung a bit higher, and attached the bridge occasionally with short rope links, to help guide travelers across. The bridge is wide enough for a small cart, but the way it sways in the wind could spook any draft animal. If an animal bolted, the entire party would plunge to their death. The trail continues on, east and west, into the mountains.
A high, wide ledge leads along the eastern edge of a large valley. The valley below is forested, unlike the tall barren peaks to the west, and on the far side of the valley to the east. The ledge turns north following the shape of the valley and a steep trail continues to the east.
The path is lost on a hillside covered with loose stones, but it continues on the other side. It takes careful, slow movement to safely walk across the fallen stones without twisting an ankle, or worse. The path continues east and west.
You stand on the eastern edge of the Desertsmouth Mountains. The slope is not so steep here, and some low brush grows on the mountainside. The high peaks lie to the west and rolling hills and plains open up to your east.
Occasional trees grow on the leeward side of ridges in these hills, but most of the vegetation is tall grass and prickly weeds. The strong, constant wind causes the trees to grow with a decided slant to them. Down to the east the forest thickens. A trail showing the ruts of ancient carts runs north, towards a break in the mountains that rise like a wall to the west.
The forest is thick here, but many trees are dead, and the ground does not hold moisture well. Some ruined buildings are near the road, but they were long ago picked clean. Only foundations and perhaps part of a chimney remain. There is little game to hunt. The wells placed along this road when it was built are long gone dry, so there is no water available for the travelers. To the east the forested area is not so hilly, and to the west the hills rise higher, with fewer trees.
The caravan trail makes a last stop here above the rocky banks of the Ishtar, so caravans can fill their water barrels for the long trek to the first desert oasis; a rope ladder leads down to the water. The wind from the desert blows grit into the river, but the water is still fairly clear, if not as sweet as it was east of Port Mir. The trail continues east, and north into the deep desert.
This long road continues to the east and south. To the south, it approaches the river. To the north are fields full of prickly artichoke bushes. It is odd anyone would have thought to eat something so spiny, like a thistle. Harvest time must not be fun. To the west are goat pastures.
The well kept road continues east and west from here. Guards patrol the road, to make sure no problems from the wilderness intrude into this peaceful city. The price of peace is eternal vigilance. The olive groves to the east give way to artichoke fields to the west. The prickly artichoke bushes do not look inviting to walk among.
This well maintained road leads east towards Port Mir and west into the deep desert. To the north are olive groves. To the south tall unstable sandstone banks border the Ishtar River. Two peasant children play here in the dust. They have drawn a circle, and are taking turns throwing pebbles it, backing up after each turn.
The river is joined by tributary streams, rushing in from side valleys, and becomes a raging torrent, rushing down the mountain to the west. The road along side the river is well built, but looks as if it has seen little recent maintenance. The winter ice and spring thaw have left potholes and even one washed out section, which makes for slow going. The road curves with the river, but generally seems to lead east and west.
The river bed widens into a wide, sandy channel. And the water in it vanishes. It flows in from the east, and just seems to sink into the sand, and evaporate into the air, leaving nothing at all to flow west. Piles of trash carried by the water have built up here. The sandstone banks to the north and south are high and unstable.
Once the river flowed into a lake here. The lake has long been dry. Crystals of salt form a hard, sharp surface of the dry lake bed. Empty wasteland stretches in all directions, with no sign of a path, or any life... or any water. The dry river channel leads to the east.
The river channel continues, but there is no water left to flow in it, this far west. Perhaps in flood season water flows here. The brush growing on the bottom of the channel is at least several years growth, however, so there has not been such a flood in a long time. The sandstone cliffs to the north and south show signs of ancient floods marked on them. The channel continues on to the west, or back upstream to the east.
The river flows from under the wall of the city to the east and widens as it flows towards the vast sandy desert to the west.
The river flows west toward the city in a broad, sweeping curve of slow-moving water, silty and deep between high sandstone banks. A road runs above the river to the north. On the walls there are markings in strange desert alphabets.
The river continues its descent down the lowlands flowing ever so gently west. It's hard to believe this is the same river that came cascading down the mountainside.
The river comes down from the north here and turns west toward the city. Small animals and herd animals can be heard in the distance, though none come near the water; perhaps the steep slopes keep them away.
You stand at the edge of a real long drop down. A small rope bridge has conveniently been placed here to allow you access to the other side of the bridge. Unfortunately the wind seems to be kicking up making the bridge sway slightly. The path leads off through the mountains to the east.
The narrow path makes its way through the mountains east and west. On a tall ledge high above a vulture perches. It is watching those who walk below, hungrily. Scattered bones along the trail tell the tale of past feasts. Some of the bones are human or humanoid.
The steep mountainside on either side looks unstable, and fallen boulders litter the trail. Luckily, nothing is falling at the moment, but this does not look like a good place to make camp. Nothing grows here but a bit of red lichen on the protected areas of the mountainsides. It is possible to continue east or west.
The road here is a well maintained caravan route. Ruts are filled in every season, so the going is smooth. Drifts still blow across the road, however, and the heat is intense during the day. At night, it is cold enough to freeze water. To the west the road bends closer to the river. To the east, in the far distance, are tended fields.
The road continues east and west. To the north and south, are fields that were lost to the sands of the desert. The irrigation canals are filled with sand, some stone walls are toppled, and a dune is along side the road to the north. The road is in poor condition here, with the old roadbed somewhat rutted. To the east, the road improves. To the west, it stops being a well maintained road, and becomes a caravan trail.
The road continues east and west. Some sand has blown across the road, but the underlying structure is well built. There are no potholes or ruts. To the north and south stone walls enclose carefully tended, irrigated fields. Canals from the river far to the south carry water to this area, so the peasants can grow the food to support the city to the east. Some sand has blown in from the desert to the west. It is a constant battle for the peasants to fight off the encroaching desert.
The road comes down from the farms to the north and turns west along the riverbank, and a rough ladder leads down the sandstone bank to a small dock on the River Ishtar below.
Along the river, the path has become a cart track, wide enough in places for two carts to pass each other. To the west, the quality of the road improves. To the south is a ford across the river. The gray and black rock that compose the mountain's skeleton is exposed in many places. Where pockets of dirt and sand have gathered, brush and small stunted evergreens are clinging to the mountainside.
The rough road leads across the river at a shallow ford. The water is yellowish, and is warm to the touch. The stench of brimstone and sulfur is strong. To the south is a mountain trail, and to the north is a cart track. Down river to the west the river picks up speed, becoming a mountain torrent. To the east it rushes down the mountain in rapids that hiss and steam.
The river rushes through a narrow canyon, steeply down over boulders, forming rapids. The white water has a yellowish tint, and the rocks are crusted with strange minerals: sulfur crystals and rings of iron pyrite. The water is hot, and steam rises with the spray. To the west is a ford across the river. To the north, up the canyon, smoke rises.
Clouds of poisonous smoke billow out of glowing cracks in the ground. Holes spew superheated fountains of water, and pits of boiling mud spit out an unbearable stench. The water running across the ground is boiling in places, and strange swirls of red, orange, green and yellow add discordant colors to the ghastly scene. High cliffs block every direction but south, where the water pours out through a narrow canyon.
The wind is thin and insubstantial at this high altitude when one tries to breathe it, but it is strong when it blows, whipping through this mountain pass. The gray mountains are oddly shaped, as if the largest of all giants made it as a child, playing with clay. Strange domes and flat cliffs jut out unexpectedly, and spires of stone rise high above. To the north is a river valley, and another valley is to the south.
A well made path, perhaps passable by a small cart, leads down into a broad mountain valley. Unlike the rest of this barren, desolate area, the valley is green and forested. Smoke rises from a few cottages in the northern part of the valley. The trail, however, leads towards the southern part. To the north gray, strangely shaped mountain peaks frame a mountain pass.
Tall evergreen trees tower above, giving the light a greenish shade. The dead needles padding the ground hush footsteps. The wind whispers gently in the trees, but there is no sound of birdcalls. There is a path up the western wall of the valley, but no apparent way up the eastern wall. To the north a plume of smoke rises.
A small shingled cottage is built here, in a small clearing. The cottage door is open. Inside there is a simple hearth, a pallet of straw, and nothing else. outside are stacks and stacks of logs, and bundles of smaller sticks. The valley continues to the north and south, and a trail leads east up the valley wall, which is not so steep here.
A magnificent waterfall floods gracefully down from above. Tiny lizards bathe upon the rocks while small schools of silvery minnows dart in and out of each other. The serene setting seems perfectly natural except for a strange indentation on the underside of the waterfall.
The trail leads from the valley to the west, up into the mountains. The trail winds through low forested slopes, and up into brushy slopes. It crosses small streams, until it reaches a high, grassy slope, with a magnificent view. The trail continues on to a ledge to the south.
This far down its course, the river has become so brackish as to be nearly undrinkable. The channel narrows, so though there is noticeably less water, it is flowing faster. Desolate wastelands are north and south. The only green visible is a few grasses and tough bushes along the river shore.
The river runs east to west here between rocky, barren banks. A rope ladder climbs to the water stop above, the last point of departure for caravans leaving the Port Mir region. The water is a bit gritty, but still drinkable.
The river meanders through the salty wastes. The only sign of life is buzzing flies. Grit and sand blow in the air. The river level is noticeably lower than upstream to the east. To the west the heat shimmers in the air.
The river continues its journey westward flowing through an increasingly arid area. To the west, in the distance, is a large salty flat. Here, some peasants are trying to farm using river water, along the banks, but the plants all look stunted. To the east is the outline of a large city.
The river flows east and west from here.
The river slows as it widens and meanders through the lowlands. A ladder climbs the bank to a small dock and the road above.
A small stone chamber lies hidden beneath Igor's shop, its walls lined with racks for the weapons too rare, or too dangerous, to hang upstairs. A rug-covered trapdoor overhead leads back up into the shop.
The damp forested flatlands to the east give way to drier foothills to the west, that lead up into the Desertsmouth Mountains, which are the western border of the Dales. The mountains to the west do not look at all hospitable. The trail here is well worn, perhaps it leads to a mountain pass.
These low hills are densely forested. To the west, looming over the trees, the ridge line of tall mountains cuts across the sky. To the east, the forest thickens. Here, small animals rustle in the underbrush, and a gentle breeze blows through the treetops.
The forest here is thick and dark. To the east, it takes on an extra measure of gloom. To the east, giant cobwebs hang from the trees, and there is a musty smell. To the north, the forest trail leads up into some low, forested hills. Here, a hush pervades, and not even the wind dares make a noise.
A trail is concealed here. Brush has been arranged to block the view of it from the north, but on this side the concealment is easy to see through. The trail is clear, leading north and south along the western valley wall.
The trail winds along the base of the cliff on the west side of the valley. The valley ends to the south, but there is a small gap to the west where a creek flows out. The water is low enough it is possible to walk along the creek side and exit the valley in that direction.
The path leads onto rough rocks by the stream and is lost. The stream goes over a waterfall, but it is possible to head south down a long, steep slope covered with jagged rocks.
The peaks to the south are much lower than the towering mountains to the north. To the northeast, a famous peak that looks like a goat's face identifies this range as the Desertsmouth Mountains. The trail leads down into the foothills to the south, and is lost among the rocks on a slope to the north.
These foothills are a wasteland of dry dust and sharp stone. Some small grasses and shrubs managed to hold onto life in the protected valleys, but most of the land is stripped bare. The soil is gone, probably a victim of overgrazing some time in the not-so-distant past. The trail leads north and south.
A tall cliff walls the southern edge of the foothills to the north. It is possible to climb up or down on a trail cut into the cliff face, but it is not easy going, as the trail has fallen in several places, leaving only a narrow ledge. The wind seems to be trying to tear travelers off the ledge, and hurl them to their death on the rocky plain below. With slow, careful steps, everyone should make it through safely.
A rocky plain stretches off to the south, east, and west. To the north, it is bounded by a tall cliff. There is a trail cut into the cliff, allowing one to climb up to the high hills to the north. The grass grows tall between the standing stones and tumbled boulders. A spring flows out of the base of the cliff, and a small stream meanders out across the plain.
A rocky plain stretches off in all directions. There is a higher rocky area to the south. The grass here has been grazed by herd animals, and dung is everywhere, along with large biting flies. Termite mounds and animal burrows stud the landscape.
A rocky plain stretches off to the north, east, and west. To the south a trail leads into a rocky area. This area is nearly barren, stripped to rock and dried, cracked clay. Some tough prickly plants manage to hold onto life. The wind blows strong across the plain, wiping up dust, and carrying away what little soil remains.
The northern end of the forested valley is alive with the sound of birdcalls and awash with the color of new leaves. The vibrant life here contrasts starkly with the barren mountains around. The valley runs back south, and a faint trail slips away east through the brush.
A small path leads along the mountainside from the valley to the west up into the mountains to the north. It is not well marked. The forest below dies out at this height, and there is a chill in the air.
The path leads onto a narrow ledge along the steep mountainside; a strong breeze could blow a traveler to his death off this precarious perch. A cave mouth to the east offers shelter from the wind, and the path continues north.
Bones of dead animals litter the floor. Perhaps some predator lives in this cave, or once did; there is no movement now. The wind howls across the cave mouth to the west, and the cave runs back to the east.
Stalactites and stalagmites grow from the ceiling and floor, nearly meeting in the middle. This makes the cave look like a giant toothy mouth, but that is just imagination, isn't it?
This old road begins at a sudden drop-off to the west. The road is carved out of the solid stone of the mountainside, obviously mage work. A ledge along the mountainside leads south, and the road leads east.
The road cuts through the mountain in a deep defile, its stone walls quarried as smooth as blocks for a temple: powerful magic made this road. It leads east and west. A stream once washed across it, coming in from a gap to the north and falling over the cliff to the south.
The road once ran into a tunnel to the east, but the tunnel has collapsed in the middle, leaving only this end intact. It is much like a natural cave, except for the perfectly arched roof and the magically flat floor. Piled branches, bones and tufts of fur show that some animal once used it as a den, but whatever it was is gone now. The road leads back west.
The stream channel is very straight, perhaps it was once a man-made path that was abandoned, and nature turned into a stream. The steep part has large steps carved into the stone, under the stones left here by the flowing water. The stream channel continues north and south.
When water ran here, this was the base of a waterfall. The sides are sheer, and the wind is strong, it does not look like a good place to try to climb up. The stream bed leads back down to the south.
This one room mud-brick house is simple, but clean and well made. The four walls are very thick, to keep the inside temperature cool in the midday heat. A fireplace is on the back wall, to provide heat during the cold nights. Straw pallets on small frames are the beds. There are four beds. One is for the parents, one for the grandmother, and the rest shared by all the children.
Many date palms grow here. They are tall, and grow in small groves rather than in rows, like many wetland orchards. Water barrels stand to one side, which are used to haul in water to keep the trees irrigated, especially when they are fruiting. The road is to the south.
The small olive trees grow in neat rows. Their grayish green leaves look dusty, but a close inspection shows them to be quite clean, just of an odd color. The black olive fruit on the trees is not edible, as olives must undergo an extensive curing process before they are fit to eat. The road is to the south, and other fields lay to the west. To the east is the city wall.
The low, spiny artichoke plants grow in neat rows. They look at home in the desert, covered with spines like a cactus. The irrigation channels running up and down the field suggest they do need a significant amount of water, however. To the east are olive groves, and the road is to the south.
A herd of goats is kept here. Goats are raised for their milk, meat, and hides. The low fieldstone walls do not look like enough to keep even a goat in, but maybe they like it here. The road is to the east.
An open expanse of dry grass stretches away from the walls. To the south stand the mighty northern gates of Port Mir; a trodden dirt path leads north across the plain toward the trackless, dry wilderness in the distance.
The grass grows thin and brown out here, far from the river's fertile banks. To the north there is nothing but wasteland; to the south the dirt path runs back toward Port Mir.
The grass gives out at the edge of a desolate wasteland. Nothing at all of interest lies to the north but barren rocks and blowing dust. The plain and the path back to the city lie to the south.
The river widens here and starts to meander, swinging south out of the hills toward the plain. Canals lead away from it to irrigate the fields. Upstream to the east the current is strong, flowing out of the lake.
The river moves quickly here, as it flows out of the lake at the foot of the mountains to the east. The water is already warming in the desert heat. A stork stands very still in the shallows, watching carefully for passing fish. The river stretches off to the west towards Port Mir.
The waters of the lake flow out through a gap into a narrow canyon to the west, moving slowly enough for shallow draft boats to navigate safely. The muddy banks are unstable, due to extensive burrowing by muskrats.
The lake is shallow here, with cattails and reeds growing up from the bottom. A few colorful ducks paddle in the quiet, murky water. The buzz of insects can be heard faintly over the sound of the waterfall to the east. The shore to the west is a muddy cliff, unsuitable for climbing.
The paved road leads northeast around the lake. The grass by the road has been cropped short by the mouths of passing livestock. Tents are spread out to the north, where caravans gather to brave the dangerous journey east to the Dalelands. The guards of Port Mir, which lies to the west, patrol carefully, watching for trouble.
The water is dark here, the depths uncertain; still waters run deep. The roar of the waterfall to the south drowns out all other sound, and the mist keeps everything damp and slimy. Above, a ladder leads up to the dock, a refuge from the imposing cliffs to the north.
The people of Port Mir take great pride in the services their city may provide. One of these services is the construction crews that go to great lengths to keep all the roads in order. Although the taxes in Port Mir are higher than other cities in the realm most of the money is used for the good of the people.
This well used road has beautiful scenery. Desert wildflowers bloom beside the road, carefully tended by the local peasants. To the north, groves of date palms block the view of distant hills. To the south, the clear water of the river throws up a refreshing mist from its deep bed. In the distance to the west is a city. To the east, golden mountains tower.
A long road follows the curves of the river, leading from the mountains in the east to the city in the west. Carefully irrigated gardens and small fields line the road, clustered next to the mud brick houses of the peasants. Old foundations and marks on the cliffs facing the river tell the tale of past floods, which makes the lives of these peasants uncertain at times.
This is the main land route through the desert. Port Mir merchants can bring their goods over the mountain pass to the east into the Dalelands. Caravans commonly took this road in the past, before the deserts to the west were made unsafe by the black robes.
The road turns north here, bypassing a small lake to the east. The lake is at the bottom of the plume of a towering waterfall. A dock is placed in the lake, as boats from Port Mir may not travel any farther east from here. Tall mountains of golden stone tower to the east, dominating the landscape with their shadow. The mist from the waterfall keeps this area moist, so moss, grass, and wildflowers grow in abundance. Here, travelers from the green lands to the east get their last taste of home before facing the desert lands to the west.
You stand on a simple wooden dock that serves as an extension of the road to the west. It has been here a long time but is still sturdy. A small ladder at its end leads down to the deep water of the lake, where boats come and go.
The noise here is deafening! The spray soaks everything. The churning water makes navigation difficult, but with constant work one can paddle out without being sucked into the undertow of the waterfall. A rainbow glitters in the mist over head. The rock to the east is very solid, with no sign of a cave. Tumbled boulders to the south remind all of the power of flowing water. The water is calmer to the west and north.
The road makes an arduous climb up into the mountains to the east, cutting back and forth to keep the slope gentle enough for draft animals to pull lightly laden carts. The river to the south takes the fast way down, however, in a spectacular waterfall. At the base of the waterfall is a small, deep lake. To the west, the countryside very suddenly dries out, with a walled desert city visible far to the west.
You are swimming underneath the dock. You can see the four wooden pylons that support the structure. The murky water clouds your vision as you gaze westward, but you think you can make out an iron grating in that direction.
Blood swirls around in the water as the Ixitxachitl devours the last of its meal. Swirling around quickly as you intrude upon his meal the large sting ray attacks!