Ironborough
Ironborough crowns a stony basin where communal foundries root into the mountain and river engines hiss at the docks; guild halls and layered terraces of workshops crowd narrow streets, while slag heaps and the taconite pits shape the skyline. Apprentices move like ants beneath bellows and cranes, and the Council of Master-Forgewrights holds public councils in the old Guildhall while watchmen patrol the Barracks' courtyard.
Ironborough
Where iron sings and apprentices learn to bend fate at the anvil.
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