Abeir Toril › Waterdeep
Thirteen districts, twelve fixers, and one sealed well. Click anything.
This is a lattice schematic, not a street map. Waterdeep grew the only way a walled city can — up, because height is furthest from the wound, and down, because that is where the salvage is. What holds it together is a containment lattice anchored on Mount Waterdeep and the Walking Statues.
Outside the line: nothing. The waste starts where the lattice stops.
Click a district · arrow keys move, Enter selects
A fixer is a relationship, not a vending machine. They remember, and the second gig is offered on the terms the first one earned.
Every one of them wants a second thing that isn't eddies — and that second thing is the story. They talk to each other: burning one costs you two.
Nobody spans the city. Grit won't leave Field Ward, Ott won't touch reclaimed parts, Mama Kettle won't aim a crew at her own neighbours. Which fixer you can reach is a real constraint, and the reason a crew cultivates more than one.