Hi Morrus! I had a an afternoon spare and so jotted down some random thoughts. I hope these are of some use but I had fun thinking them up whatever you decide. Sorry about the cheesyness of the "maze of pain" but I couldn't resist.
Mercian’s Walk.
One of the capitol’s canal-side streets, in the district of nobles, is notable for two columns of trees that flank the entire length of this secluded walk. The trees are not normal; their trunks are perfectly carved out of beautiful grey stone and their leaves are pure clear-crystal. They were taken by the famous general, Mercian the cruel, during his campaigns against the Elves hundreds of years ago. Mercian had them shipped back to the Capitol after his sacking of Elisvara. The subsequent death of the General and the unfortunate demise of all of his heirs are commonly attributed to a curse brought down on the General by the theft of these trees. This is so firmly entrenched in the popular imagination that not even the most hardened thief in the city would dare to steal so much as a leaf. This is lucky as on dark nights, the leaves of these trees glimmer with a faint silver light akin to that given off by the stars and are hauntingly beautiful, if slightly eerie and unearthly. The leaves of the trees also tinkle musically in light breezes, making this area a favourite trysting spot for lovers to meet after dark.
Magister’s Tower.
One of the tallest buildings in the city is the Great Library, built inside a huge tower known as Magister’s Tower after its famous former occupant, the Master of Rolls to the last Emperor, who used the tower to store the chancery rolls. A spiral stairway winds up the inside of the tower, right to the top. The central pillar around which the stairs curve is where the books are shelved and there are many hundreds of thousands of them. Since the library is free, scholars, citizens and even slaves are often to be found sitting on one of the stairs atop a cushion, surrounded by books and quaffing ale.
It is commonly known that the library is often used as a way for people to pass messages anonymously due the library’s fantastic index code; each book has a number and a letter followed by a number. These correspond to the adjacent stair and to the shelf and position of the book. Messages are sometimes left in books and then the person who the message is intended for informed of the book to look in. The receiver can then contact the mysterious sender without ever discovering their identity or meeting, at least in public. One rumour suggests that the several of the more illegal guilds use this method to arrange their trades; in one famous case the pages of the book in question were coated with poison and the victim told to look in it, whereupon he died. It is also popularly imagined that poisons and other substances can also be purchased by leaving a certain code and money in particular books, whereupon the substance will be left at a pre-arranged place, at least according to urban legend.
It is also rumoured that the author of “The Empire of Lies”; a witty monthly account of the illicit doings of the high and mighty in the city, is penned by a slave or other low-born who hides his completed work in certain books, as a way of smuggling his writings to his publisher. Both author and publisher are then safe from legal action because the publisher does not know the author’s identity and thus cannot reveal it. This scandal has been running for several years but the author himself has so far escaped justice, perhaps in part because those on the wrong end of his satirical wit are never explicitly named and so do not want to be seen to give them too much credence lest they identify themselves unequivocally.
Rivals in death.
Long ago, the two murderous brothers Otho and Lorgo Cullen were sentenced to quarry work for the rest of their lives after a spate of robberies and muggings. They died after a few brutal years and then were raised as undead once the city’s need for stone became urgent during one of the innumerable wars of conquest in the distant past. The brothers were fierce rivals and even in death could never stop fighting. Every full moon they would battle with each other, wrestling and grappling until the moon would set. The quarry was later filled in, burying the brothers, and buildings erected over the top. One enterprising Ale seller had an idea. He excavated down to the brothers and sited his tavern around the sheer sided 20 foot deep pit and built an opening in the roof, so the brothers could see the full moon. Now all manner of scum flock to his tavern to wager on which brother will win their eternal fight at each moon. The tavern is even named the Feuding Brothers, and hosts cock-fights and bear-baiting on nights when the moon is not full. It is one of the hardest places in the city and if there is no fight in the pit then there is often one in the taproom.
The Red Rocks and the Tower of Warning.
Close to the main gate of the city is the old beacon tower that was once used as a platform for signal fires to warn the rest of the Empire of War. Yet the tower is now famous for the sharp rocks at its base, for criminals and traitors were later hurled from the tower and dashed to death on the rocks below and it became a favourite place for suicides. The rocks are now stained red, supposedly from all the blood of the slain, though this may be another urban legend. It is said that the rocks and the streets that wind around them are haunted and so the watch do not go near after dark. A wailing, keening voice, thick with anguish, can often be heard singing a lament on dark windy nights, suggesting that the stories might well be true. It is also said that if the Empire is ever in danger then a ghostly beacon fire can be seen burning atop the tower, even before anyone in the city knows of any threat.
Maze of Pain.
In the centre of the city, close to the port, is one of its greatest attractions; an amphitheatre that surrounds a huge maze filled with different types of terrain laced with puzzles and traps. Every week there is a show and people flock to the arena to see teams of fighters enter the maze and battle terrible monsters, deadly traps and confusing puzzles. Bets are exchanged on how far a particular team will get and who will be the last to survive, as well as which monster will eat a particular fighter. The monsters come from all over the Empire and are held in underground chambers below the maze most of the time. Several crowd favourites are the Minotaur, Hephastion, a hydra nicknamed Sissefus and a pair of rust monsters that have been arena stalwarts for over a decade. The fighters themselves are usually criminals, enemies of the Empire, or even slaves, though occasionally there is an open contest announced where the poor and desperate can try their luck “running the gauntlet” for the chance of a share of the fantastic prize money on offer. Very few survive and it is traditional for the crowd to cheer for the monsters.
The Lighthouse of Seven Faces.
A great seven sided tower of basalt rises out of the water at the end of the western city wall that extends out into the lake and envelopes the harbour. The top of this tower is ornately carved so that each side looks like the stern face of one of the seven greatest Emperors of old, one set on each side. The watch-fire set atop the tower seems to shine out of their eyes at night so that their faces are illuminated and thus the Emperors seem to be guarding the city and calling the people home. In the mouth of each Emperor is also set a great horn that is sounded during fog and booms out over the city.
The City in Miniature.
Close to the main gate, near the Imperial Stables, is a famous Inn called “The City in Miniature”. Attached to the Inn is a garden where a marvellous scale model of the entire city carved out of stone is sited. Those new to the city can walk among the tiny buildings to gain an idea of its layout and to sit among its splendour, supping and taking their ease whilst planning their visit. First time visitors to the Capitol often stay the Inn, though more than a few have lost their purse whilst meditating amidst the tiny buildings, since thieves also know how many distracted first-timers are to be found here. Popular rumour says that the owner, Septimus Fisk, can find any person in the City using his marvellous figurine. He has only to say the name of the person sought to the figurine and it will run into the City in Miniature and stop at the location of the person so named. Fisk’s services are often sought by those trying to find criminals or friends and there is often a line of people winding around his Inn every morning, looking for his services.
The Forest of Swords.
The Imperial vaults are set into cliffs overlooking the lake and have been used for many generations. Even in death the Emperors are guarded by their most faithful servants; the Carnelian Guard. Each soldier is buried in a small grassy mound, perhaps 4 feet high, feet down and head up with one arm extended. Each mound has a stone hand sticking out of the top of the mound grasping a sword; the ceremonial sword given to each member of this august regiment when they join. The former wives of dead guardmen actually live in tiny bothies inside the mounds preying for the souls of their dead husbands as is traditional for five years after a guardsman dies. They are known as Mournwives and are often able to see visions of the future during their stay. The effect of all these tombs, which are situated either side of the Way of the Dead, leading to the Imperial Tombs, is of a forest of swords.
It is said that anyone wanting to join the Carnelian Guard must purify himself in the nearby Temple of Cleansing Flame. First they must pass through the Walk of Fire in the temple, that is said to burn the flesh of anyone who is evil and then the prospective soldier must spend the night in the forest of swords, beseeching the souls of the dead for their aid without accepting aid from a Mournwife or anyone else from among the living. No-one will say what happens to those who disappear in the night but if the petitioner is still present in the morning, at the first light of the sun, he must choose a sword and attempt to take it up from the stony grip of its former owner. If he fails, he must leave and wait a year and a day, perhaps doing great deeds to win renown and honour to wipe away sin. If he succeeds he lofts the sword so that it catches the first gleam of the sun and is thus found worthy to petition to join this most exalted of regiments.
Winged Messengers.
A quick way of sending messages across the Capitol is via carrier birds. Every large shop or building with a red flag flying outside will have a carrier bird ready to send to the Grand Aviary in the centre of the city. Such buildings are everywhere, although the identity of all senders is recorded and Imperial papers must be presented to confirm identity. The birds are trained to take letters to the Grand Aviary and then return to where they came from. Letters are sorted at the Aviary and transferred to a bird returning to a location near to the destination. They are then taken by hand to the place where the person lives, if this is known. The carrier birds are a type of large green-winged crow found in the northern mountains. The bird is highly intelligent and some can even understand simple human speech, though they can only squawk in reply.
River of Ice.
An underground river empties into the lake just inside the harbour walls. The river comes all the way from the mountains, runs right under the city and often contains huge quantities of ice, even in summer as it flows underground for the whole length of the journey. The coldness of the water chills the air even more than is usual underground, so that there are frozen caverns right under the city, where ice hangs like frozen stalactites from hoar-frost covered cave-walls. This is fortunate for the Capitol’s fishing fleets for the ice is used to pack their catches and keep them fresh. The icy water is also used to keep many other things cool and so the caverns leading under the city are packed with goods that require chilling for preservation; including cheeses, rare beverages, fruits, herbs, fish and other produce. Indeed, a branch of the Capitol’s watch, known as the Blue-watch, have to patrol the caverns and make sure no-one helps themselves to all this produce. Ladders leading up from these frigid chambers lead to many of the Capitol’s most important trading houses, as well as into the Imperial palace itself. This fact is not lost on thieves, so that now a locked culvert grill covers the outfall of the River and this is guarded at all times by the Blue Watch.
