POVERO
Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 12:02 am
POVERO
City of the Glass Bay.
City of sails.
City of the merchant princes.
http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg12 ... mjoeo3.png
In two centuries, Povero grew from a poor fishing town to a burgeoning center of international trade.
No curtain wall guards the city, nor constrains its further growth. One story has it that the city fathers tore down the teetering old limestone walls twenty years ago, after a visiting cannoneer demonstrated his weaponry against the barrier to dramatic effect. But rather than invest in many of the newfangled weapons, the city council ordered the walls taken apart to pave the southern end of the long Bay Road.
Whether or not it really contains old wall stones, the Bay Road runs paved from the crossroads where it connects with the long hard-earth strip of the Great East-West Road. The Road marks the north edge of the city.
Urban farms and little villages absorbed into the spreading cityscape fill much of the northern expanse of the city.
Closer to the waterline, ShoreStreet runs east to west.
South of Shore Street, the villas, roadhouses, vineyards, and small farms of the city periphery give way to denser blocks of buildings, some three stories high. The houses stand closest together near the waterline, forming a mass of masonry and timber broken by broad access roads that connect to the quays.
A visitor in Povero can hardly miss the flower boxes under painted sills, vines clinging to stucco walls, squares of red tile roofs, and the hilltop gardens and palazzos of the rich.
Only the old fishing quarter looks shabby and rundown.
Povero draws sailors, peddlers , freighters, pilgrims, and other travelers year round, but the summer trading season sees the highest volume of traffic.
YOUR PARTY has arrived at the crossroads at the city rim in late summer, as warm weather cools and the early harvest wagons start rolling into market.
No one prevents you from entering. Without a proper wall, the city guards in the roadside strong-houses do not collect a toll on pedestrian traffic. There is, however, a toll collected on wagons and a " watering tax" laid on horses, donkeys, etc.
Povero awaits!
But first, pay tolls and tariffs on mounts and beasts of burden.
(Or perhaps try to enter from a side lane, across somebody's pasture, field, or vineyard, thus avoiding payment).
City of the Glass Bay.
City of sails.
City of the merchant princes.
http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg12 ... mjoeo3.png
In two centuries, Povero grew from a poor fishing town to a burgeoning center of international trade.
No curtain wall guards the city, nor constrains its further growth. One story has it that the city fathers tore down the teetering old limestone walls twenty years ago, after a visiting cannoneer demonstrated his weaponry against the barrier to dramatic effect. But rather than invest in many of the newfangled weapons, the city council ordered the walls taken apart to pave the southern end of the long Bay Road.
Whether or not it really contains old wall stones, the Bay Road runs paved from the crossroads where it connects with the long hard-earth strip of the Great East-West Road. The Road marks the north edge of the city.
Urban farms and little villages absorbed into the spreading cityscape fill much of the northern expanse of the city.
Closer to the waterline, ShoreStreet runs east to west.
South of Shore Street, the villas, roadhouses, vineyards, and small farms of the city periphery give way to denser blocks of buildings, some three stories high. The houses stand closest together near the waterline, forming a mass of masonry and timber broken by broad access roads that connect to the quays.
A visitor in Povero can hardly miss the flower boxes under painted sills, vines clinging to stucco walls, squares of red tile roofs, and the hilltop gardens and palazzos of the rich.
Only the old fishing quarter looks shabby and rundown.
Povero draws sailors, peddlers , freighters, pilgrims, and other travelers year round, but the summer trading season sees the highest volume of traffic.
YOUR PARTY has arrived at the crossroads at the city rim in late summer, as warm weather cools and the early harvest wagons start rolling into market.
No one prevents you from entering. Without a proper wall, the city guards in the roadside strong-houses do not collect a toll on pedestrian traffic. There is, however, a toll collected on wagons and a " watering tax" laid on horses, donkeys, etc.
Povero awaits!
But first, pay tolls and tariffs on mounts and beasts of burden.
(Or perhaps try to enter from a side lane, across somebody's pasture, field, or vineyard, thus avoiding payment).