The Amber Gates of Fergeria
Before the Long War, West Harbour was the veritable jewel in Fergeria’s crown, a place brimming with life, national pride, and the promise of boundless prosperity. Unlike its current, brutal landscape, this area of Edenlon stood as a clean and gleaming testament to the kingdom’s might, its technological prowess, and its commercial supremacy. It was Fergeria’s amber gateway to the wider world, where luxury met meticulously ordered labor.
The pre-war West Harbour represented an impressive fusion of functionality and aesthetic grandeur, meticulously designed for both efficiency and national pride. Its monumental docks and quays, constructed from solid stone and smooth concrete, were broad enough to receive the largest steamships from across the globe. Gigantic, gleaming brass steam cranes, shimmering in the sunlight, eloquently attested to Fergeria’s advanced engineering capabilities. The warehouses were not makeshift shacks, but rather robust, brick-built structures with carefully finished facades and large, glazed windows that invited natural light. Their interiors were spacious and impeccably ventilated, ideally suited for storing valuable commodities. The wide avenues and streets leading to and traversing the port were impeccably clean and well-paved, designed to accommodate heavy traffic. There was no hint of the chaos and labyrinthine sprawl that would come to dominate the port after the war. The port’s illumination emanated from elegant gas lanterns, casting a warm, amber glow that imbued the area with a lustrous and secure appearance after dusk. The entire precinct was maintained with an unblemished cleanliness.
Life in the pre-war West Harbour was orderly, though still bustling, and directly mirrored Fergeria’s social hierarchy. Dockworkers and sailors, despite their arduous labor, were part of an organized workforce, often affiliated with guilds or associations. Their work was regulated, and their earnings afforded them a decent standard of living. There was no place here for the rampant exploitation or abject poverty that would emerge after the conflict. The port stood as a vibrant hub of legitimate international trade. Exotic goods flowed through its arteries from distant lands—spices, silks, luxurious fabrics, alongside raw materials and advanced machinery. The shops and commercial offices surrounding the port were elegant and prosperous. Before the war, local gangs were, at most, minor groups of hooligans or dockworker associations, certainly not a dominant force. Public order was meticulously maintained by the city guard and the royal police, and organized crime was effectively suppressed. The residents of West Harbour enjoyed a far better reputation than they would post-war. They were perceived as crucial to the kingdom’s economy, and their labor, though physical, was widely appreciated.
The West Harbour of before the Great War was the embodiment of Fergeria’s ambition and power. It was a place where order and progress advanced hand in hand, before the chaos and shadows of war transformed it into the brutal domain of the Docker Boys.
From the Amber Gate to the Rusty Heart of Trade
Thirty years after the Great War, Edenlon’s West Harbour remains a brutal and stark place, yet it is no longer solely a realm of shadows. Through years of post-war reconstruction and Fergeria’s dynamic development, this area has undergone another profound transformation. While the New Port serves as the polished showcase of royal trade, it is through West Harbour that a significant portion of the city’s and region’s commerce once again flows, often within the grey economy, but not exclusively so. It is the rusted heart of Edenlon’s trade, beating to a peculiar rhythm, its control still firmly in the hands of the Docker Boys.
The physical landscape of West Harbour is a stark blend of enduring wartime destruction and ad hoc, functional reconstruction, driven by the resurgent demands of trade. Here, gigantic, often rusted steam cranes, veterans of the war, still dominate the skyline, many crudely repaired or supplemented by newer, though rarely aesthetically pleasing, models. The air is filled with the ceaseless clatter of mechanical turbines, pumps, and engines, louder and more heavily utilized than ever, testifying to the renewed activity. The quays are perpetually crowded, a hive of steamships and smaller vessels. The warehouses form a labyrinth of old, damaged structures jostling alongside newer, makeshift constructions, many serving a dual purpose as official storage and clandestine hideouts for contraband. Further from the waterfront stretches a network of narrow, grimy streets, teeming with tenement buildings, bustling bars, shadowy taverns, and a myriad of small shops. Buildings are haphazardly built upon and modified, creating an impression of continuous, uncontrolled growth. Illumination is sparse, casting long shadows that lend themselves to illicit activities. The air is thick with steam, smoke, salt, grease, and the scent of thousands of people. The pervasive odor of illicit money is as ubiquitous here as the thrum of working machinery and the rustle of commercial transactions.
The inhabitants of West Harbour remain primarily sailors, dockworkers, laborers, and those living on the fringes, but their existence is now more intricately tied to the returning trade, regulated by unofficial structures. West Harbour is now a crucial nexus for a multitude of goods. While official and high-value cargo often passes through the New East Port, West Harbour handles immense volumes of consumer goods, construction materials, and products that, for various reasons, bypass official channels. This ensures a constant flow of movement and commotion, generating money for everyone—from the dockworker to the warehouse owner, right up to the gang boss. The district remains under the firm control of the Docker Boys gang, led by Cornelius Spots, who constitute the de facto authority. This is no longer wartime anarchy, but an organized system where the gang’s “law” governs trade, dispute resolution, and profit sharing. Every significant transaction, every ship, every transport requires their approval or “protection,” which serves as a form of taxation. Cornelius, with his pragmatism, understood that open chaos harms business, and has therefore imposed a certain order. Smuggling and the grey economy remain a colossal part of the port’s financial engine. Weapons, illicit stimulants, rare ether crystals, or stolen technologies—all flow through West Harbour. The Docker Boys not only profit from these operations but often orchestrate them themselves. Life here is arduous, demanding constant cunning. However, the return of trade offers greater opportunities. Smaller factions, independent smugglers, shrewd traders, and agents operate within the district, negotiating with the Docker Boys, striving to carve out their own niche. Loyalty is valued, but betrayal can be profitable—everything hinges on a careful calculation of risk.
Napięcia i Dynamika
West Harbour is a melting pot of contradictions—pulsating with life, yet fraught with tensions. The relationship between the Docker Boys and the rest of Edenlon is complex; official authorities tolerate their dominance as long as trade flows and chaos does not spill into other districts. There is a continuous struggle for influence, both within the gang itself and with rival groups eager to carve out a slice of the port’s lucrative pie. West Harbour, though scarred by war and governed by gangs, has once again become an indispensable link in Edenlon’s trade chain. It is a place where the past meets the present, and where pragmatism and ruthlessness dictate survival and success.
Instead of establishing a new port elsewhere, the Fergerian authorities, after a thorough analysis of post-war realities, made the strategic decision to expand West Harbour further to the west. This ambitious undertaking aims to create a modern, efficient commercial hub that fully leverages its unparalleled location.
The choice to expand West Harbour westward, rather than construct an entirely new port in the eastern part of the city, stems from crucial strategic considerations. Its direct access to existing communication networks is its greatest asset. Even in its ruined state, West Harbour offered the best road and canal connections to Edenlon’s vital commercial and industrial districts, such as Masmara or the Old Capitol, which remains the administrative center. Expanding westward will allow for seamless integration with these crucial arteries, minimizing the cost and time of overland transport into the city’s interior. Building a port elsewhere would inevitably entail the costly construction of entirely new road and canal infrastructure. The port’s westward extension also brings it closer to King’s Hill, the seat of monarchical power. This proximity holds twofold significance: it ensures direct control and easy access for royal forces, which is crucial for protecting valuable goods and combating criminal influence, and it serves as a powerful symbolic gesture—the crown is taking the port “under its wing,” demonstrating its commitment to its reconstruction and its vital importance to the kingdom. Rather than dispersing resources on building a new port from scratch, the decision was made to invest in the existing, albeit damaged, potential. This offered the opportunity to utilize some of the surviving infrastructure and the existing labor force, proving more efficient in the long run. Although West Harbour is currently under gang control, the expansion, conducted under strict royal supervision, offers hope for gradually displacing or legitimizing criminal activities by introducing official structures and regulations. This approach is more strategic than attempting to build a new port elsewhere while the old one remains a dangerous hotbed of illicit activity.
The expanded West Harbour, stretching westward, is destined to become Fergeria’s modern commercial gateway. Its new section will feature state-of-the-art quays and cranes. The project includes the construction of entirely new, reinforced quays, designed to accommodate the largest steam-powered merchant vessels, equipped with the most advanced, ether-powered cranes and cargo handling systems. Spacious, multi-level warehouses, secured with the latest technologies and under constant surveillance, will also be erected. The entire new section of the port will boast wide, meticulously maintained roads and canal routes, ensuring smooth transportation of goods inland. Concurrently with the expansion, there will be an increased royal presence, including port guards and customs officials, ensuring order and compliance with the law.
This vision implies that while the eastern, ruined part of West Harbour may well remain the domain of gangs and the grey economy, its new, western extension will symbolize Fergeria’s resurgence as a trading power, centrally managed and under strict royal oversight. It will be a fascinating blend of old and new, chaos and order, embodying Edenlon’s remarkable resilience.
Two Faces of Trade
The expanded West Harbour is now a fascinating amalgamation of past and future, chaos and order. Its two distinct parts—the old, ruined, and gang-dominated section, and the new, expanded, and royally supervised area—coexist, forming a dynamic, and at times tense, commercial ecosystem. This unique coexistence is a vivid reflection of Fergeria’s post-Great War pragmatism.
The older, eastern part of West Harbour remains the familiar landscape of ruin and rust, where the laws of the street hold more sway than royal edicts. This is the unyielding domain of the Docker Boys gang, led by Cornelius Spots. They exert control over the flow of illicit goods, smuggling, the black market, and all transactions that bypass official channels. Their “law” dictates daily life and business within this sector. A tremendous volume of trade still occurs here—smaller vessels, local goods, smuggled luxuries, and anything too risky or illegal for the new section of the port. A peculiar, brutal order prevails. This is where the “dirty work” is handled—where goods without proper documentation arrive, where matters are settled by force, and where one can easily disappear into the throng. Royal services rarely intervene with full force, preferring to maintain the status quo to prevent chaos from spilling into other districts.
The new, westward-expanded section of the port is a modern, gleaming symbol of rebirth and royal authority. Here, the latest steam and ether technologies reign supreme. Gleaming cranes, spacious and secure warehouses, and wide, clean access roads ensure efficiency and safety. This is the primary gateway for legitimate, large-scale international trade. It accommodates massive vessels, imports strategic raw materials, and exports Fergeria’s valuable products. All transactions here are strictly controlled and taxed. A constant presence of royal port guards and customs officials ensures order and adherence to the law. The palpable proximity of King’s Hill guarantees security and deters criminal activity. This is where diplomats, wealthy merchants, and delegates arrive; here, tranquility, efficiency, and prestige prevail.
The two parts of the port, though distinct, are inextricably linked and mutually influential. Two parallel trade channels exist—the official one, controlled by the state, and the unofficial one, controlled by the gangs. It frequently occurs that goods too expensive or heavily taxed in the legal part of the port are smuggled through the old section and then distributed deeper into the city. An invisible yet well-known boundary exists between the two parts. Sometimes, these are even physical barriers, checkpoints, or special patrols, forming a buffer zone where tensions are highest. The royal authorities maintain unofficial agreements with the Docker Boys. They tolerate the gang’s dominance in the old section in exchange for a degree of stability and an assurance that their activities do not threaten the security of the new section. Occasionally, they even leverage the gang’s influence to “handle matters” that fall outside royal jurisdiction. Dockworkers and laborers often work in both parts of the port, depending on needs and opportunities, leading to a constant circulation of people and information between them. The entire West Harbour, in its dichotomy, has become a microcosm of Edenlon—a city that, after the war, learned to live with the scars of the past, adapt to new realities, and seize every opportunity, regardless of its legality. It stands as enduring proof of how closely order and chaos can coexist.