Oh for want of a city
the people returned to the rock
they raised up buildings so pretty
and christened it Albioch!— children’s rhyme
The capital and most populous city of the Holy Isles1, Albioch sprawls along the river Sloadetch in the southeastern corner of the big island. It serves as the seat of power for the High Abbey as well as housing parliament and the royal palace. Many of the ministries keep their head offices here, though notably military high command (with related ministries of defense, intelligence, and foreign affairs) remains distanced in Dannofer.
Albioch sprawls across miles of land, snaking in an east-west smear of brickwork and smog. For many of its inhabitants, the city’s parks are the only accessible nature. A web of train lines crisscross the skyline, belching steam and sparks over neighborhoods rich and poor alike.
Hamdonn
A central neighborhood of Albioch, and one of the most posh. Hamdon holds numerous famous landmarks, including:
All-Saints Square
- The public center of High Abbey worship.
- Runs diagonally northwest-to-southeast.
- Large tiled plaza centered around Hamish’s Boulder.
- Southwestern edge along Broad St.
- Southeastern edge backs to the nunnery of Saint Catherine.
- Northeastern edge along Aibane Canal (and the canal’s parallel streets).
- Northwestern edge backs to Saint Clement’s Cathedral.
Saint Clement’s Cathedral
The largest church in existence, holding mass every Sunday for thousands of aspirants, the cathedral of Saint Clement occupies the width of a city block and near two thirds of one’s length. Services are held in a vast central courtyard, accessible via hallways through the outer walls. Above, numerous offices serve High Abbey administrative functions. Across Tenpenny street to the north west, is the Illuminated College of Saint Lauren of Thembly, also reachable via a sky bridge.
The Illuminated College of Saint Lauren of Thembly
The most prestigious seminary in the land, the school boasts direct access to Saint Clement’s, and many of its instructors also serve in high positions with the Abbey. The school’s administration and largest lecture halls occupy the same stone building along Tenpenny Street, though its campus includes many smaller buildings dotted throughout Hamdonn.
Tenpenny Street
Running north/south with a slight eastward bent, Tenpenny St is the largest thoroughfare through Hamdonn. It starts just on the north end of Breaker’s Bridge and continues through Asher Green and out towards Old Farm Gate.
Parliament
The seat of Holy Empire government. The High Abbey is mostly in charge, but officially Parliament still runs the country. A long row-house building following the river on the western side of the neighborhood houses their sessions.
Heath-Upon-Slo
West and slightly south of Hamdonn, this neighborhood fills a thin spar of land within the narrowest of Sloadetch’s bends. Once a neglected part of the city, the past two decades have seen the area revitalized by a bohemian influx. Now it houses a small but passionate theater scene, numerous galleries, and countless cafes and restaurants. The newly built Dunnock Line has a single station at the north end.
Asher Green
Curving around Hamdonn from the north and east, Asher Green gained its name from the Admiral Lily Asher public park that occupies much of its area. Townhomes and artisan craftshops ring the parkland, with a few notable landmarks:
The Museum of Heavenly Pursuits
Occupying the inner corner of the park, the Museum of Heavenly Pursuits is a glorious 5 story marble-clad building topped in polished brass spires. Built under the rule of King Lorn IV and added to by each successive monarch, the museum houses any and all works deemed by the Ministry of Culture to hold “significant bearing upon the esteem of the nation”. This includes both the creations of Holy Empire citizenry but also numerous “acquisitions” from their various campaigns and colonial conquests.
Fisker’s Square
Named for Sir Edmund Fisker, Castellan. Fisker oversaw King Lorn IV’s estates during his campaigns abroad and was one of the King’s few close friends. His namesake square is one of the core portals into the neighboring parkland and the main entrance to the museum. It holds two fountains, a small carriage roundabout, and a reflecting pool.
South—across Tenpenny Street—sits Fisker Square Station, serving the Wren, Starling, and Goldcrest lines.
Oddlion Hill
North of Hamdonn and east of Asher Green, Oddlion Hill’s maze of winding streets and tiny parklets confuses even its long term residents. Once sparsely covered in the “near countryside” estates of well-to-do nobles and clergy, infill from the city’s expansion gradually filled in all the cracks. As fortunes turned or the interests of the upper class shifted further afield, most larger tracts of land were sold off and split apart into smaller family homes and apartments. This piecemeal construction ruined all of the Ministry of Transportation’s hopes for holistic road planning. The sole sane means of passage to an outsider is Overwater Station for the north/south bound Starling line, built on a decommissioned aquaduct.
Wileden
South, across Veneration bridge from Hamdonn, lies Wileden. Semi-industrial, the area is home to a large chunk of the city’s textile industry. The river’s side here can often be seen in varying bright colors, runoff from the dye shops. The Pigeon line, running east all the way out to Hess-on-Sea, begins here at Indigo Station.
Low Barnet
West along the river from Hamdonn, on its southern bank, lies Low Barnet. Long ago, before Albioch had become the sprawl of today, this neighborhood was mostly farmland at the edge of town. A few old provincial estate-buildings remain from that time, being altered over the years with the neighborhood’s character. From rural farmland to outskirts fishing village, to more-affordable land for those workshops necessary in the trades, and eventually to a lower-class neighborhood struggling to define itself in the wake of gentrification.
Low Barnet has ended up a microcosm of Albioch itself, and many of its residents never need to leave on a normal basis. Most commerce in the area is small-to-medium scale trades (cobblers, tanners, leatherworkers, bookbinders, papercraft, etc). Notably, the Clarret Fishworks spend much of the past decade quietly buying up lowland and waterfront properties to demolish in creation of their freshwater fish farm. Many locals are loud in their criticism of the smell.
The Wren and Dunnock lines both pass through the neighborhood.
The Tuppled Fish
A local pub serving excellent meat pies, The Tuppled Fish is run by sole proprietor Catherine, a widow and friend of Jackie. Sitting a block away from Lemuel’s Canal, its central location and quality foods have made it a popular watering hole for The Scales generally.
High Barnet
A small enclave of rich merchant houses perched stop a hill at the southeastern and of Low Barnet. Has excellent views in many directions.
Spilsitch
From “Spills Watch” a few centuries back, prior to the seaward weirs and dredging efforts under the reign of Queen Kate II, the name has simplified over time. Once a civil projects outpost for early (read: hours) warning of the Sloadetch overflowing its banks, this neighborhood has grown into a proper slum. The ministry of sanitation still operates operates a station along the riverside, but otherwise city government has effectively abandoned the area. Old canal projects and waterlocks now serve as solid ground upon which shanty towns spread. No train line serves Spilsitch, but its direct access to the river makes the neighborhood easily accessible by water taxi.
The Crags
A rocky neighborhood on the north end of town, out past Oddlion Hill, the Crags was long a bustling middle class hub and center of independent alchemical study. The Starling line terminates there at Anunwall Station, and for a time was the busiest train in the city during rush hour, ferrying laborers southward to their industrial jobs. The neighborhood was Albioch’s strongest independent market hub, a success story in free trade and the promise of upward mobility. All of that turned on the fortunes of two overly ambitious alchemists:
Bilton & Jad Enterprises2
Arthur Bilton, Esq. and Dalgren Jad were unlikely business partners. Bilton, the unmarried third son of a lowly family, fell into the painful intersection of being dreadful at schooling and unimportant enough that his charms were ignored by his peers. In his final year at academy—seeing a future of obscurity bearing down—he befriended a bright but unpopular graduate student from the colonies: Dalgren Jad. Dalgren was intensely focused on the intersection of mycology and esoteric alchemy, to the point that his doctoral work stalled. Many of his peers assumed he would milk his access to the lab until eventually expelled, or perish to his work.
Instead, the pair formed an unusual bond. Dalgren helped Arthur pass his exams, and then left his program abruptly to open their joint business venture. Bilton & Jad Enterprises started small: a narrow storefront along Milner Avenue and grow chambers hidden in the unused basements of the Bilton estates. They achieved rapid success, especially with sales of their healing potions (“faster acting for half the price”). Soon the pair could move into better offices with their own factory, and after a few years commissioned a tower built to their specifications. It would rise from the muck of a crevasse and reach high enough to see the glimmer of the river’s currents over Oddlion Hill. It would hold all the tools necessary to develop new wondrous cures and alchemical creations. Alas, mere months after its dedication, tragedy struck.
No one knows for sure what caused the collapse. Many, including the official party line of the Ministry of Public Safety, blamed Jad’s experiments. Bilton, in his sole public statement before being sent to prison, cited jealous saboteurs sent by rivals. Whatever is true, on a warm evening in August, something detonated within the tower’s lower floors. Nearby residents reported noticing a strange spicy taste in the air minutes prior. The structure teetered and fell, releasing a noxious cloud across the area. It settled into the lowlands nearby and made hundreds sick with Mycelium Pneumonia. The Crags became difficult to navigate, with a daily changing of various shoddy bridges built across high ridges.
The middle class fled for safer stable neighborhoods, leaving only those who couldn’t afford to move. The government, at the time, took the view that acknowledging the events would imply some level of fault, so officially The Crags was experiencing “poor air quality consistent with the unusual meteorological circumstances of the area and the increased output of Clashwaters forge and nearby industrial efforts”. This lack of oversight lead the area to become a haven for the less-than-legal trades. Eventually the “trench fogs” receded in all but the lowest spots, leaving incredibly rich soils and verdant fungal growth. Forests of mushrooms filled basements and abandoned storefronts. Many were discovered to be edible, and in fact quite protein rich.
The area directly around the fallen tower is still viewed with great suspicion by locals. The Jaddermire, as its called, is almost impassible with multistory mushroom stalks rising from the parkland once surrounding the tower. Its fallen pieces are almost impossible to find now, the fungi is so thick.
Jaddercaps, Blue Royals, Chymist’s Bane, Spotted Posh, there are countless unique growths found only around The Crags.
Hannah’s Hens
Hannah runs a bed and breakfast on a ridge overlooking the Jaddermire, infamous for serving chicken at somewhat reasonable prices. The danger? The chickens are let to roam down in the mire itself. Many refuse to eat there because of it. Others refuse to eat there because the building always seems ready to collapse into the valley. Even more refuse for such tedious reasons as “half the main hall has no roof”, “the coffee made my piss purple”, or worst of all “the biscuits are always damp”.
For all of the reasons not to patronize Hannah’s Hens, it remains a popular clandestine meetup. The local constables, few in number for The Crags as it is, are known to prefer their biscuits dry. The Ragged Prince is known to make an appearance from time to time, giving what could charitably be defined as rousing speeches.