The Nation of Cymry's Cities

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 Tucked along the southern coast of Cymry, where the salt winds of the Taran Sea meet sunbaked stone and bustling docks, lies Free Port — the kingdom’s gateway to the world and its most vital center of commerce.

Though under the laws of the land and the watchful authority of Carmarthen, Free Port operates with a level of autonomy earned by coin, diplomacy, and necessity. It is a city where trade flows freely, where goods from across Byd Arall — dwarven steel, orcish spices, Brynarethi textiles, and even rare Fey curios — pass through its harbors. While Carmarthen remains the seat of power, Free Port is its open hand — welcoming, calculating, and indispensable.

Free Port is a city that thrives on movement. Cargo-laden ships dock in rows along its expansive piers, while caravans pour in from the north bearing crafts, coin, and culture. Unlike the stricter cities of the realm, Free Port is known for its tolerance, especially toward the Fey-Touched, who, while still monitored, find greater freedom to live and work here.

• The Merchant’s Council governs the city’s daily affairs — a body of guild leaders and noble representatives who report directly to Carmarthen’s appointed Trade Magistrate.
   
• The Saltspire Exchange serves as the central market, where foreign and domestic traders negotiate deals beneath frescoed domes and hanging lanterns.
   
• The Deep Quay houses smelters, drydocks, and forges — many operated by dwarves from the Iron Marches.
   
• Lantern Hollow, Free Port’s lower ward, is home to fey artisans, unlicensed hedge mages, and a quiet but active Fey-Touched community — watched, but not hunted.
   

Magic is permitted, but licensed. The MOA maintains a formal presence, though far smaller than in Carmarthen or Tenby. Enforcement here is pragmatic rather than draconian — the city values its stability, and open crackdowns are bad for business. Instead, quiet investigations, targeted inspections, and discreet "adjustments" to the merchant rolls ensure compliance without drawing blades.

Free Port walks a delicate line: loyal to the Crown, yet protective of its independence. Carmarthen knows it cannot afford to strangle its southern jewel, and Free Port knows how to keep its value shining bright.

 Neath is a city balanced on the edge of shadow and flame, nestled at the southern foot of the Greyfen Peaks, where ancient stone bridges span mist-choked ravines and twilight lingers long after the sun sets. Once a Cymric stronghold, it has become a place of compromise and secrets, ruled under the eye of the MOA but softened by its people’s quiet resistance.

Here, cobbled streets wind between towering spires and ivy-choked ruins, with gaslights that flicker strangely near the old wards. Magic is regulated but not entirely suppressed — Fey-Touched walk hidden paths, protected by sympathetic nobles or shielded by secretive guilds. Some whisper of a hidden haven beneath the city, where rogue oracles, shadow-mages, and fey-blooded scholars gather beyond MOA reach.

Neath is a city of contrasts:

• A marketplace of wonders, where dwarven steel, orcish firewine, and veiled fey trinkets change hands behind shuttered stalls
   
• A seat of power, home to Marshal Edris Vaughn, the MOA's iron-fisted overseer — yet haunted by growing cracks in his control
   
• A beacon for the lost, where exiles, half-bloods, and apostates forge fragile lives in the in-between
   

To live in Neath is to live in the dusk — between law and rebellion, between mortal and fey, between what is seen and what is true.

 Tenby is the blade’s edge of civilization — a fortified coastal city perched on the southern cliffs of Cymry, where wind and salt bite hard and the wilds never sleep. Though smaller than Carmarthen or Neath, Tenby holds immense strategic importance: it is the frontline of the MOA’s war against rogue Fey-Touched insurgents and the dark remnants of the Cataclysm that still fester beyond its walls.

Known as “The Flame of the Frontier,” Tenby is a city constantly on alert. It is home to elite MOA field operatives, inquisitors, and special magical suppression units — including the feared Torchblades, warriors trained to subdue or eliminate unsanctioned magic. Here, the line between soldier and civilian blurs, and every street bears the weight of vigilance.

Yet Tenby is not without beauty. Stout lighthouses and watchtowers rise from the cliffs like stone sentinels, and its harbors bustle with military transports, merchant ships, and fishing boats alike. The people of Tenby are resilient and pragmatic, shaped by years of proximity to danger and the quiet knowledge that safety is always temporary.

• The Ember Bastion: A massive MOA fortress that dominates the city skyline, serving as headquarters for all Northern operations.
   
• The Chainmarket: A tightly controlled marketplace where traders sell goods imported from Neath, Freehold, and the Dwarven strongholds — but all magical items must be registered and examined.
   
• The Quiet Row: A somber district where fallen soldiers and slain insurgents are buried, many of whom died without names or records.
   

Tenby’s greatest threat isn’t from without, but within. The Shadowed Pact, a militant faction of Fey-Touched revolutionaries, is said to have deep roots in the city’s underbelly — smuggling spells, harboring fugitives, and striking MOA patrols under the cover of mist and fog.

Some locals sympathize with them. Others cheer when a raid turns bloody. In Tenby, loyalty is measured in whispers and wounds.

 Llanybri is the largest city in Cymry, a sprawling coastal stronghold where tradition, trade, and tension intertwine. Nestled between high sea cliffs and rolling green hills, the city commands both land and water with a presence as old as the gods themselves. Great stone walls, carved with symbols of the Tuatha Dé Danann, encircle its bustling districts—some say built atop foundations laid by divine hands.

Unlike the arcane hubs of Carmarthen or the rebellious undercurrents of Neath, Llanybri is a city of order, defense, and resilience. As the gateway to western Cymry, it serves as both a military bulwark and an economic powerhouse, housing the largest concentration of MOA presence outside of Freehold. Enchanted watchtowers, arcane suppression zones, and regimented patrols ensure that unregistered magic is kept in check.

Yet even here, the old ways endure. In the shadow of MOA fortresses, stone shrines to forgotten gods still draw offerings. The people of Llanybri walk a careful line—publicly compliant, but privately faithful. Hidden beneath the city’s granite streets and naval docks are ancient tunnels and druidic chambers where the past breathes still.

The city's harbor teems with merchant ships, war galleons, and vessels from foreign shores, making Llanybri a crucial hub of trade and diplomacy. Dwarven metalworks from Khazrundar, elven silks smuggled from the northern wilds, and strange relics dredged from the Otherworld all pass through its markets.

Llanybri is a city caught between control and conviction—a symbol of Cymry’s survival in a world where old gods whisper through stone and sea, waiting for the right soul to listen.