You look at the rough sketch in your hands. A somewhat decent rendition of a man with gentle eyes, a lean face and a small nose. He is bald, though he has a scruffy beard, and he has a large scar on his right cheek.

“He has grey eyes and a black beard and he was wearing a grey shirt and black trousers when I last saw him,” the woman says. “Please, have you seen him?”

You think back to the people you’ve seen so far today; no one you can recall matches this description… When did she last see him, and where?

“It’s been three days; he was due back at the Blakebreek dock three days ago after his shift, but no one has seen him!”

Oh, wow; three days? That’s not good… Unfortunately, you haven’t seen him either, but you’ll keep an eye out for any signs. Already dejected, the woman thanks you for your time and begins looking for someone else to ask. You wish her luck in her search; hopefully, Grigoree will turn up soon.

With no end to the factories or slums in sight, and getting tired of the noise and smoke, you decide to take a chance and veer off the canal, taking the first available side path. You wonder if there’s some way to get into the walled-off district, or if it’s entirely off-limits to the public. You don’t have to wonder for long; the side path off the canal soon leads to a street, and the street follows along the wall a short way until you come across a large gatehouse. Here, the gate is open, and a guard stands on watch just outside it; you see another guard sitting inside the gatehouse.

You pause before the gateway, looking at the brickwork; it’s pretty old. The guard watches you closely but doesn’t say anything. You’re about to greet him and ask; ‘what is this place?’ when you see a noticeboard on the wall. You saunter over.

‘Blackminster; the pride of Derna.’

You read the information on the board; it claims to be a historic mining town whose presence, then and now, is responsible for catapulting Derna to the forefront of manufacturing and industry in the region. Inside, dozens of buildings, areas and machines, some centuries old, remain perfectly preserved, allowing you to witness the history of the region in an unprecedented way. There are museums and tours, with costumed actors in place to really bring the experience to life. Entrance is for residents and paying customers only, for the latter, the entrance times and time allowed inside are limited, while the entrance fee starts at 75 cogs; the most expensive one is 150.

You avoid spluttering in disbelief but look past the guard through the gate. From the size of the wall you’ve seen, the area is pretty big; there could be a lot in there, but is it worth it? Ameronis was interested in visiting the old fortress; maybe she might be interested in Blackminster? The price is quite high, but, considering how much she seems to make from her gambling…

You back away from the noticeboard, giving the guard a respectful nod as you leave, then continue on your way.

Moving away from the wall, your follow the road randomly, noting the road getting narrower the further you go. Despite your best efforts, you realise that you’ve ended up in the tangled weave of streets that you were trying to avoid. It’s exactly like the alley maze; tall buildings separated by alleys barely wide enough for you to outstretch both arms. Well, not exactly the same. Those buildings were somehow nicer than these ramshackle ones, and these ones are taller. There is a lot more rubbish and random wreckage dotted about, and the cobbled path can barely be described as such; a significant amount of the stones are damaged or simply missing, making for an awkward walking experience. Many of the stones that remain struggle to be seen through what you are hoping is just mud and general filth. However, even in the shade of the buildings, the daylight prevents the area from feeling as imposing as the other maze, as does the constant presence of the residents.

They bustle about, workers going to and from the factories, housewives hanging out laundry or fetching water, children running around; screaming and laughing. There are quite a lot of children, and you instinctively check for your moneybag, discreetly of course. Small wandering hands are much harder to detect, and you’ve no doubt there are pickpockets around here. The people are familiar, part of a tightly packed community, while you’re a stranger, lost and surrounded; you can’t help but feel a little on edge.

You try not to attract attention to yourself, which is made trickier when you stumble on a loose cobblestone that rocks when you step on it. You manage to catch yourself.

“Steady there, lad. Watch your step.”

You turn and see an older man leaning out of a ground-floor window, smoking a pipe as he watches you. Feeling your cheeks flush a little, you compose yourself, and thank him for his concern.

“You lookin’ for the old Mill House? You’re a tad off track there.”

Oh, err… Sure… you’re looking for that place. Does he know how to get there?

“Head on over yonder, past the broke lantern, then take a turn by the old gate and keep going right by the blue door with no ‘andle. Then a liff up to the crow’s perch, go on by the barrel stack, then twist and turn; you’ll be at ol’ Haywood’s in no time.

…What??

You continue to play along. OK, you see where you went wrong. You’ll head there now. He nods, satisfied, turning his attention back to puffing away on his pipe.

You keep going forward, trying to make heads or tails of what that man was saying, and consider taking the upcoming left when you notice a broken lantern that just barely remains attached to its bracket on the wall thanks to a single, rusty screw. It’s on the path up ahead, and he did say to go past it…

You attempt to recall his instructions, wondering how you’re supposed to tell which old gate he was referring to, when you come across a gate that has fallen off its hinges, is entirely covered in rust, and bent in half as if something forcefully rammed into it. This has got to be it. You wonder how the gate got like that; it’s bent inwards; whatever rammed it came from your side, but there’s not enough space to build up that much force. It’ll likely remain a mystery forever.

You squeeze past the gate and push on. What was next? Something about the crow’s handle? Perch? Crow’s perch… What was that about a handle?

All of the surrounding walls to your right suddenly fall away as you step out into a relatively open area. You pause for a moment, confused. Looking back, you can see the scars on the wall of the last building, showing where more bricks were once connected to it, as well as a couple of bricked-up doorways on the upper floors. There was a building here, but at some point it was demolished, leaving this clear space, which is now filled with… stalls? It seems to be a makeshift market square now. You notice that while the tall tenements continue on three sides, the buildings behind the market are shorter and more rundown; there’s another partial slum just behind this line of buildings.

This ‘market’ is quite busy, with many residents coming and going, and even more hanging around. The vendors yell about their wares, and the shoppers yell at them about their high prices. Seeing as you’re here, you might as well see what they’re selling. You doubt if anything will interest you, but you are hungry. Considering the surroundings, could you find something that won’t have you desperately searching for a latrine within the hour? Only one way to find out….

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