Echo of the Dragons
The Styes is a cluttered and haphazard sprawl of buildings, boardwalks, and moorings that sag just over the lap of waves when the tide runs high and perch precariously over the cloying and intractable bog when the waters recede. Like the ever shifting waters below, Styes is in constact flux; boardwalks and pylons spring over the thick mud as quickly as the old and rotted sink into the bog below. What is a boardwalk one day can be a deadfall the next, a muddy grave with tombstones of rotted stilts.
One of the only constants in The Styes is the Ancient arched stone bridge that wends its’ way from the sure footing below the boughs of the Rokenfold out through the foetid mud that is The Styes foundation. The bridge provides not only land access but also a rare steady structure, a spine, to which the Styes has lashed to and then bloated around.
On the high tide Styes is open to the ocean. The last port before the ferocious seas of the Raven’s Beak (and even more ferocious port costs of Aravon) the waters of the Styes buzz with all manor of boats. River runners of all sizes with their almost comically broad hulls designed to be able to sit safely on the mud flats form a halo close to Styes, while great ships sit further off in the deeper waters, between them all barges and rowed launches scurry back and forth ferrying people and cargo.
The Styes throngs through this constant rhythm of rise and fall, tide and time gnawing at the cities very foundations. The rotten mildew from the mudflats creeps into the fabric of the city, while just beyond the veneer of normalcy slow blinking eyes watch from the murky waters. It is enough to weigh on a man, not surprisingly the people of Styes are accorded as ‘different folk’.