"I leave the Sacred Cellar at dawn. The congregation lies dead. I shouldn't have to justify this to myself, lives are cheap here, just like everywhere else. Nonetheless, as I make my way out of the alley, I keep telling myself it was orders and that I didn't have a choice. I can't shake the feeling that something bad is on its way.

A grey rain starts to fall as I trudge through the mud. It's thick here by the Old Docks and more than once I almost leave one of my boots behind. I stop along the way to watch a mob lynch a sorcerer. Or at least that's what they claim; if he really was, he would no doubt have blasted his way out of here by now. Probably just an old man who wasn't on very good terms with his neighbours. A demented Watcher screams that fire is the only way to purge him.

A bit further up, two City Watch soldiers start following me. I see them out of the corner of my eye. I can feel them smile as they see me turn into an alley, the cut of my cloak must have set me apart. No matter, i make quick work of them. Without fingers they'll never hold a sword again, much less try to rob the poor folk of the Bondsman's Ward.

Something shakes me from my reverie. A fireball, seen over the rooftops, from the direction of the Pool. Must be another of the Fulgurator's experiments gone wrong. Fire won't catch, everything's too damp here, but I don't want to get caught in another crowd. I pull my collar up and keep walking. Finally at the wall. I show the guard my pass. He takes one look at me and decides he doesn't like me, and it takes him all of three seconds to decide I don't belong up there. He tears my papers, and I can't knife him. Too many witnesses, too many questions.

No matter. Four minutes later, I'm on a rooftop, where the new constructions have almost reached the top of the granite circle behind which hide the nobles. It takes longer for me to find somewhere I can safely jump down. Someone's ornamental pond breaks my fall. I run through the manicured lawns and make my way to a side street. From here it's just a short walk to my employer's estate. I try to keep my head down, try not to let the City Watch notice the mud I'm tracking onto the off-white flagstones.

When I get there, I get informed he's at a party. I help myself to some food from his kitchen, and some wine from his office while I wait. He comes in reeking of drink, doesn't even recognize me but doesn't bat an eyelid when I tell him what he owes me for the job. I get paid, that's all I wanted. This'll keep me fed for another few days, but it wouldn't hurt to start looking for more work while I'm here. In this town, someone with my skills is always in demand."

"Seal the gates. Nobody gets in or out."

- First Pronouncement of his Majesty Lord Protector Anaxagoras following the End of Days

The City was once one of the jewels of the ancient world. Tales were told far and wide of the masters of Horology and their automata. When the end occurred, the Lord Protector ordered his city cut off from the rest of the world, and only recently has it reopened its gates. Now it stands as the sole remaining bastion of civilization, even if it is merely a shadow of its former glory.

The City is divided into two wards: the Bondsman's Ward and the Patrician's Ward separated by an immense granite wall that some believe to predate the City. The City is honeycombed by canals, once the home of pleasure craft and merchant barges; they were sealed off on the Lord Protector's order. Their surface is now choked by plants used to feed the City.

The City's people fall into one of four categories:

• The Nobles: scheming machiavellian politicians in marble palaces.
• The Guildsmen: artificers, craftsmen, spies, assassins and a thousand other organised trades and services.
• The City Watch: half standing army, half police force, the City's brutish and corrupt defenders.
• The Commoners: everyone else, freelancers, those who refuse to conform and the criminal element.

The City is at once safer and more dangerous than the rest of the world. Its people do not lack food or shelter. They are protected by towering walls and one of the finest armies remaining in the world. With hard work and a bit of luck, anyone in the City can live out the final days of the world in luxury and comfort. But those who make enemies of the powerful, who are just a little too careless or are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time can end face up in the canals come morning.

"The world is over! Burn the books, burn the factories, burn the children, it's all over!"

- Ronove “The Mad”, former Grandmaster of the Antikytherans

The City was originally one of the Twelve Free Cities that bordered the Green Sea. As the others fell around it, this one endured. Raen was deserted by its guilds in their hour of need, knowledge scattered to the four winds. Myr was ransacked by warlords. Aen was torn apart by her own armies, driven mad by fear.

This City once had a name too, but it has since fallen into disuse, only the oldest Nobles still know it. The first years after the End were the worst. The Lord Protector's rule tightened like a vice on the city, imposing order by any means. Fires and riots destroyed many of the old records and knowledge. Sorcerors and church officials were lynched in the streets.

It took three years for people to fully accept the new status quo. Much was lost to the initial chaos, with one of the Antikytheran's library going up in flames (although rumour states that much of the old knowledge was stored in the underground vaults).

The City gates remained locked to all for years after that. The City Watch became the City's standing army, tasked with keeping refugees and roving warlords far from the walls. Thus, the City suffered least from plagues and attacks that felled many kingdoms.

Recently, The City has once again opened its gates. Certain outsiders have been issued with permits allowing them to live and do business in the City, though they are still mistrusted by the general population. Those who choose to leave the City are few and most would call them mad: the City is still better than what's waiting out there. Tales abound of those who left only to find death at the end of some bandit's sword, but there are also whispers of those lucky few who came back laden with riches scavenged from ruins. The last few years has seen an increase in the number of exploratory guilds and noble-sponsored expeditions.

"Beware of darks alleys, suspicious activity and feral children”

- Sign posted outside the Bondsman's Ward City Watch headquarters.

The Bondsman's Ward is home to the vast majority of The City's inhabitants. It is a place that was much changed by The End. Its pristine marble streets and buildings have become marred with soot and filth. Its parks and squares have become dumping grounds and salvage yards. Its ancient skyline has become choked by the tenements and shacks of a new class of dispossessed who have nowhere else to go and by the smokestacks of a hundred ancient factories. The sky over Bondsman's Ward is a perpetual grey due to the acrid smoke belched forth from these factories that should have been dismantled decades ago.

The circular basin, once the hub of water travel in the City, has been closed off from the other canals. Its once blue waters have become black due to the runoff from the factories on its edge. Its surface is home to the Fulgurator's barges, deemed too dangerous to practice their art on land.

The Old Docks now face out onto a sea of dust and sand. The basin is covered by the wrecks of old merchant ships that were not scrapped for parts.

For most in the Bondsman's ward, life is a daily struggle for survival. Smugglers and cartels operate seemingly with the consent of the City Watchmen. The Guilds mostly stay in the factory quarters, constantly watchful for spies and saboteurs.

"It was a fabulous masquerade last night. It's a shame Baron Themzin survived the knife, it would have been the crowning event of the evening."

- Baroness Themzin, following a failed assassination attempt on her husband.

In stark contrast to the Bondsman's Ward, the Patrician's Ward retains much of its former beauty. Placid ornamental lakes are adorned by Horological swans. Iron-wrought trees adorn walking paths. The arsenals and barracks of the City Watch clustered at the foot of the wall rapidly give way to stately manors and palaces of the Nobles. The mansions get increasingly larger as one approaches the estates of the oldest families, closer to the centre near the Protector's Ward. This is the home of the nobles of the City. If any place left on earth is worthy of being called paradise, it is this.

Most Nobles seem utterly unconcerned with life outside the walls of their ward and their control over the guilds seems more based on tradition than any strong financial bindings, something the guilds have recently been muttering about. Besides indulging themselves, the Nobles have a number of other pastimes: duels over the smallest offence are the purview of the young and hotheaded, while the older permanently seek to secure the Lord Protector's favour, even at the expense of other houses.

"I'd not go in there if I were you..."

- Captain Cedric Hightower, City Watch, addressing petitioners to the Lord Protector

At the centre of the Patrician's Ward lies the Protector's Ward: surrounded by a moat of quicksilver, it is composed of a large area surrounding the Fortress Terra, the Lord Protector's palace. Its walls are impossibly smooth, windowless and seemingly made of some lustrous metal. Its central spire, or perhaps smokestack, rises hundreds of feet above any other structure in the city, its summit lost in the swirling clouds of industrial smog. Rumour has it that the citadel pre-dates the City by centuries if not millennia, constructed by some long lost means by a people long dead. Now it houses only the Lord Protector whose appearances have become increasingly rare.

"Life's good in the City, son. Unlike everywhere else, we have food, shelter, protection, and we can even make a tidy profit if we know where to look. See him down there? The one with the fancy coat who'd have been stabbed three times already if it weren't for the guards? That's Lord Berstein. I'm pretty sure his rivals would pay good money to know of the good Lord's secret vices..."

- Ram Roshan, loving father and freelance spy

The Lifeblood of the City, those in charge of keeping everything running. Just about the only thing going for most of them is that inside the City they are kept safe from the harsh world without. Refugees and outsiders also fall under this category, barely allowed to live within the walls.

Some have gained power as smugglers and criminals, and the Watch usually turns a blind eye to these activities if it gets a cut of the profits.

"Haha, look at this 'ere thing, Gert. Pile o' junk. Antikyths missed this one. S'gonn' make a bit o' coin on th' market. Jus' gotta bash the 'ead off..."

"Uuuh... Wallace, I think it moved..."

"Nonsense, now 'elp with this..."

"I swear I saw it move..."

- Last words of Gert and Wallace, petty thieves

A cut above the commoners, the Guilds are the remains of the ancient centres of learning that once made the Twelve Free Cities. Some have preserved remnants of their heritage, others have only recently been formed, having gained the patronage of a Noble Family or stumbled upon some long forgotten process or formula.

A few of the Guilds are simply covers for criminal cartels. Although slavery and smuggling is forbidden by orders of the Lord Protector, the City Watch has yet to clamp downforcefully on any of these activities.

Some of the most renowned guilds include:

• The Universitarians: Reportedly the oldest guild in The City and one of the largest, it grew out of the ancient University with a view to uncovering and preserving records and documents from The City's history.

• The Venerable Order of Fulgurators: Responsible for the development and mass production of a number of weapons that use the ignition of an explosive powder to propel a projectile. Fulgurator “spitters” are regularly used to keep wayward refugees far from the walls of The City.

• The Atikytherans: Remnants of the Horological Guild of old that was a source of pride for The City. Much of the old knowledge has been lost, and the Antikytherans guard the last of their secrets jealously.

• The Aeronauts: Originally thought to be madmen, they recently achieved manned flight suspended beneath a balloon filled with gas.

• The Eiserne Jungfrau: A mysterious Guild billing itself as Sorceror-Hunters, their techniques and knowledge are more jealously guarded than most.

"I say good sir, that's a mighty fine shop you have here. It'd be a shame if anything untoward happened to your merchandise, or your employees. Here's what I'm offering: for a generous monthly donation, my men and I will ensure you're allowed to conduct business free from having to worry about arson or random knifings. How does that sound?"

- Captain Luca Angelloni, City Watch

What became of the placid City Watch of old, whose only duties were to arrest petty thieves and keep the streets safe at night? The City Watch is now the City's standing army and peacekeeping force. They use any means necessary to maintain order. Their ranks are reportedly rife with corruption, with most officers receiving bribes on a near daily basis and men-at-arms often acting as enforcers for criminals, though anyone heard voicing concerns often acquires mysteriously broken teeth or worse.

One thing's for sure though, when it comes to defending the City they are fierce and highly competent warriors.

“My friends, the Aurora Princess has started moving against us. If we do not act soon, I fear that his Majesty the Lord Protector shall grant her his favour. We are unfortunately hobbled by the upcoming council of houses and so we dare not risk moving against her openly. Baron Bernkastel, I am given to understand that you’ve recently taken under your wing a young and upcoming Guild of assassins?”

- Countess Virgilia of the Seventh House, on how to hinder House Aurora’s plans

Most members of the Noble houses simply spend their time wallowing in the private paradise that is the Patrician's Ward, living off the ingenuity and hard work of the Guilds and commoners who they will never see. Some do act as patrons to various Guilds, most often in an effort to one-up each other. Guilds specializing in spying, sabotage, theft or assassination have reportedly been doing quite well. The Noble houses have always been the source of the City's administrators, diplomats and generals and a few of the most skilled Nobles, normally one of the Princes, do preform these roles. As the Lord Protector has become ever more judgemental of the indolent class so the struggle for the houses to prove their worth has increased and the competition for these roles.

The 12 original noble houses of the City, each ruled by a Prince, are extraordinarily ancient lineages that have inhabited the centre of the City for time immemorial. Before the Disjunction they enjoyed lives of uninterrupted luxury and indulgence and after the Disjunction this continued up until very recently. However the Lord Protector, as he has become ever more reclusive, has become far more judgemental of the noble families and their contribution to the continuity of the city. In the last year two of the twelve Princes have been summarily dismissed and one even exiled from the Patrician's Ward for his perceived failure. The Lord Protector has even begun to ration resources within the Noble houses, reserving access to extravagant luxuries to those families whose members are best able to carry out his commands and aid in his designs for the City.

The Lord Protector's edict on infighting has seen many nobles disgraced for openly hostile actions. Many of the disputes are settled in the shadows since the Nobles must maintain at least the outward appearance of honour and solidarity.

Further heightening tensions in the Patrician's Ward is the arrival of New Houses, former citizens of the Bondsman's Ward who have been able to purchase estates in the Patrician's Ward. The old houses do not take kindly to these lowborn upstarts as they are yet more competition for the Lord Protector's favour.

Noble families include:

• House Knox: Currently favoured by the Lord Protector, they have a long and proud history of brilliant military leadership.
• House Aurora: Once a proud and noble house, source of many sorcerers, the End led to its fall from grace and is now little more than broken old men and women reliving memories of past glory.
• Seventh House: The origin of the name is lost but it was always an influential house, that is until the Lord Protector exiled its Prince several months ago.
• The Hightowers: A newly arrived noble House, founded by a former Bondsman who was able to purchase an estate in the Patrician's Ward. The exact source of their wealth is unknown, but they are seen as symptomatic of the changing times.

"What? What's going on here? Dammit Gilliam, I paid you good money to watch Lord Bilrer's estate and report on his movements. What are you doing here?"

"Lord Wilen, accusations have been brought against you by Lord Bilrer of attempting to corrupt an officer of the City Watch, conspiracy and spying. I hereby place you under arrest. Forgive me Wilen, but he made me a better offer."

- Lance Corporal Henry Gilliam at the arrest of Lord Wilen

Not quite as brutal or callous as their colleagues in the lower wards, they are nonetheless just as corrupt. Treated by many nobles as their own private armies, the City Watch is composed of hundreds of officers with shifting loyalties, and the men-at-arms tend to be the first casualties of any squabbles between the houses.

“[…]

And with the clicking, came the ticking of the men that were no more

And slew the soldiers at the door

[…]”

-'Ode to our Clockwork Warriors', Author unknown.

There was a time when each of the Free Cities knew a Discipline. Now only the bare foundations of a single one remain, the rest lost like so much else. The Antikytherans's tendency to sloppy record keeping and closely guarding their art meant that as the years dragged on and masters took their secrets to the grave, only the basics have remained. Horology was capable of great things, now the Antikytherans have to comb the City's salvage heaps to find replacement parts for their colossal behemoths, the secrets of their manufacture having been lost. Six of the old factories stand silent, their furnaces cold. The others are creaking, obscenely loud, belching smoke into the sky that can be seen for miles. By order of the Lord Protector, the Antikytherans have started installing gargantuan gears across the city. The sound of their grinding permeates certain quarters; their purpose is as yet unknown.

Horological constructions include:

• Horologuli: Massive armoured automata. The secrets of their manufacture have been lost, and now the Antikytherans can only repair and maintain the remaining Horologuli, salvaging spare parts from those too damaged to function.

• Sextants and Timepieces: Source of most of the Antikytheran's wealth, no merchant would leave port without both. Since the loss of the firmament, they have found little use other than as relics of bygone days.

• The Tracks: The roads that once bore the mightiest of the Antikytherans' constructions: great steel beasts that ate fire and breathed smoke, and could pull more than a thousand horses each. Now the beasts slumber silently in their wrought iron cathedrals and the Tracks lie cold and overgrown, or buried beneath years of inclement weather.

"A city without citizens is naught but a ruin."

- Lord Protector Anaxagoras, in a speech following the End.

• The Lion of Aimo: Former City Watchman turn Guild Master, he is in charge of The Lionhearted, a guild of explorers responsible for several successful expeditions to the lands worse affected by the disjunction.

• Dianor A. Knox: Bastard son of the Prince of House Knox, nicknamed the Ironhand, commander of the 117th battalion of the Bondsman's Ward City Watch. Said to have ties to the Eiserne Jungfrau.

• Featherinne Augustus Aurora: Princess of House Aurora, speaks of bringing back her family's old glory.

• Gaap von Zepar: Current Grandmaster of the Antikytherans.

• John Graunt: City Watch statistician.

"By order of Commander Thatcher of the 501st City Watch Regiment, I hereby declare this camp to be a danger to the City by its very presence near the walls and I am here to see that it is razed to the ground. We are perfectly willing to listen to any objections and they shall be carefully considered before any action is taken. We do not wish for any of you to come to harm, but you must understand this camp poses a significant risk to the safety and security of our beloved City."

- Captain Dorothea Ernst, 501st City Watch Regiment, moments before setting the Mud Gate Refugee Camp on fire. Total casualties amounted to over 12,584.

To the City, the Unaligned are generally referred to only as Outsiders. They are mistrusted, mistreated and more often than not discriminated against. Most City folk see them as too decadent and too anarchic. The lack of any real contact means that most Unaligned names mean little to the average Citizen.

Their access to the City was once only possible through the employ of foolhardy smugglers, some are now given passes that allow them access to some parts of the City. Most of these are exploited as sources of information, traders and scouts.

It should be noted that, according to official City Watch statistics, over 33% of corpses found floating face-up in the canals have been Outsiders.

The Church represents the worst of the Old World's sins: they failed to keep their dogs in check. Their weakness and failure to prevent the Will War led to the breaking of the World. The City holds them accountable for the Disjunction. Openly being a member of the Church has led to more than one lynching, though that doesn't stop rumours of the Sacred Cellars where the traditions are still practiced.

However, some say all this is merely a ruse by those in power. People are better united in the face of a common enemy, so the Church may have been demonised in order to protect the peace of the City. Voicing these thoughts out loud tends to be accompanied by a sharp decrease in life expectancy.

According to official City Watch statistics, a lynching occurs at least twice a week.

The City has little to do with the Watchers. Dealings with them tends to be limited to curious guildsmen involved in dangerous experiments. Prophets and doomsayers that somehow find a way into the city are promptly left hanging.

As the Disjunction draws closer, many Guilds see the Watchers as potentially possessing secrets that could be their salvation, and more than one expedition has been organised with the goal of bringing anything they can back from the Watcher's largest settlements.

According to official City Watch statistics, the average watcher gets about three sentences into a rant before he is torn apart by a mob or City Watch patrol.

The City is a place of shadows and backroom deals, violent distrust of the outside world, of machiavellian intrigue and a different flavour of despair than that plaguing the world outside. Instead of full scale wars and glorious battlefields, epic quests and tales of heroes fighting to the end against the disjunction there are political machinations, backroom deals, spies and assassins. The obsession outsiders seem to have with the impending end of the world barely affects anyone. Some go about as before, steadfastly refusing to believe that it soon will all be over. Hopelessness and apathy are rampant. Only the crumbling wonders around them act as reminders that everything was once better.

But all this is changing. A new generation has arisen, one that has grown up in the shadow of brighter days. Guilds are starting to awaken the ancient wonders. Noble infighting is fiercer than ever. The criminals are getting bolder. Beneath it all, a twisted form of hope is growing. The arrival of outsiders has made people realise that maybe the end of the world is coming. For some it's something to look forward to.

The City is a place where everyone has something to hide and where there are plenty of shadows to do so.

Power in the City comes in a thousand different forms and is held in a thousand different hands. It is possible to have connections in more than one of the areas of the City. For example, it is entirely possible to play a Noble who heads a guild, or a City Watch officer who secretly oversees a smuggling operation. Feel free to come up with your own Guild/Noble house/criminal gang.

You want cannons? Hot air balloons? Clockwork technology? The City provides the infrastructure.