Pewterton

The city is a maze of narrow winding streets, as complex as the heart. The streets are the veins, paved with dark red stones, and the people are the blood. The sound of the smiths, beating swords and breastplates into shape, the consistent and dull pounding that let you know the city is alive. The town of Pewterton was what a large city becomes with no city planning and a great enthusiasm for architecture. Every building was different, borrowing this and that from another era. It made the place as glorious as a beloved grandmother's quilt, ever patch unique and as eye catching as the one before. Pewterton is a lavish city dedicated to the arts of Amrosia's unique culture. Its entirety if viewed from the sky would be a rainbow of clashing colors, folks dance in crowds within city greens to the jig of mandolins and soft drums. Children play freely, flitting between alleyways with caws of laughter and joy. This is a city alive with life in all forms, and as soon as you step foot onto the red stonework of the streets, you can feel a piece of your soul awaken.