Wromthalm

Wromthalm lies on Aldmere's western lakeshore where the Nollen comes down from Nolsomel, a short sail from the Wenvorm mouth. It is the last Aldmere city on the crown road from Hethlend through Haldarthir to Claupiose and Solvaine, and the first place a traveler on that road sees the lake. The town is long and narrow, strung out along the shore.

The Darthir. The harbor, named with the Aldmeri word for "haven," is a curved stone breakwater sheltering the fishing fleet, the Drift moorings, and the lake barges bound for Caelvenne. Its quays are crowded at dawn when the perch boats come in. Every boat in it has a knotted cord tied to the bow.

The Smoke Lanes. Behind the harbor, rows of eel-houses smoke mere eel for Caelvenne's markets. The smell never leaves them, and the families who work them marry each other.

The Retting Ponds. On the south side of town, flax from the fields around Wromthalm is soaked, beaten and spun. The linen weavers' halls stand beside the ponds, and in late summer the stink of rotting flax is Wromthalm's second smell.

Otter Row. A street of furriers and trappers near the Nollen mouth, where Wromthalm otter pelts are cured and sewn into the linings of noble cloaks. It is the richest street in town and the most closely watched.

The Knot Strand. A stretch of shingle north of the harbor where the Drowned Court's faithful keep their shrines. At the new moon they leave offerings here for the Builders they believe sleep under the lake, and nobody swims off the strand at night.

The Wolf Mill. A ruined watermill stands on a stream at the edge of town, its wheel rotted in place. The old tale says a mere wolf came to the miller's door every winter for bread and was fed for twenty years, until the miller's son came home from a lord's war and shot it on the step. The wheel stopped that day and has not turned since. Wromthalm says the war was the Lords' War of 822–829, and children still leave crusts on the step.

The Linen Hall. In this long timber hall by the Retting Ponds, the weavers' guild sells Wromthalm linen by the bolt to Hethlend's drapers and Caelvenne's factors.

The Toll House. At this stone gatehouse on the Caelvenne road, the crown's toll-men count the carts bound for Claupiose. Caelvennois factors wait here for their goods, and the Quiet Office is thought to keep at least one of them on its books.

The Earl's Hall. The crown's earl sits in a square tower and hall above the Darthir. A bell in its tower rings the fleet home when fog comes down on the lake.

The Gatekeepers' Stair. At the end of the Knot Strand, steps cut in the rock lead down into the lake, and the Drowned Court's Gatekeepers dive from them. Nobody else uses them.

Wromthalm eats Surmave perch every day and sells its eels. The fleet goes out before dawn and is back by midday, and the afternoon belongs to the smokehouses, the linen halls and the taverns. Prices run close to Hethlend's, with fish cheaper and bread dearer. The town keeps the Hearthfaith's festivals like everywhere in Aldmere. On New Year's Day the Drift's Helms gather for the Helms' Moot at the Wenvorm mouth, a short sail to the northeast, and for a week after, Wromthalm's taverns fill with bargemen.

Its trade faces Caelvenne more than Hethlend. Smoked eel, linen and pelts go south by lake and road, and leusores come back. Many families have a cousin in Claupiose. When Caelvenne's mirror towers flash along its southern shore at dusk, Wromthalm's children try to read them, and cannot.

The Drowned Court is stronger here than anywhere else in Aldmere. Its first Gatekeeper is Sparuf the Gatekeeper (sparuf, "safe"), a lean, silent woman who has dived the sunken roads for twenty years and says she has touched a carved gate.

• Wromthalm fishermen have pulled a carved black stone from Lake Surmave, and the Drowned Court says it is a key. The earl has locked it in his hall.
• A Caelvennois factor at the Toll House has been asking every Gatekeeper what they have touched, and paying gold for the answers.
• The perch have gone into deeper water this year, and the old men say the lake is rising.
• Someone has oiled the Wolf Mill's axle. The wheel still does not turn, and the town cannot decide whether to be glad.
• Sparuf the Gatekeeper has written to the Chancery asking the loan of a Hethlend mason who knows black stone.

Wromthalm is RISING. Its linen and eels sell as well as ever, and the Caelvenne road carries more traffic every year. Now it also sits nearest the one question every court on Aethorra wants answered: what lies under Lake Surmave. The black stone, the Gatekeepers and the foreign factors have made a quiet fishing town important, and in Aldmere an important town draws the Chancery, the Quiet Office and the Crown Wardens. Wromthalm will be richer in ten years. Whether it will still belong to its fishermen is less sure.

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