Rainoga

The Lower City of Baldur’s Gate stretches beneath the looming heights of the Upper City like a coiled serpent, worn, gritty, and endlessly alive. Here, along the storm-battered edge of Gray Harbor, the city's heart beats to the rhythm of creaking masts, shouting stevedores, and the unending churn of trade. Salt and smoke cling to the air, mingling with the stench of fish, sweat, and spilled ale. Narrow alleys wind between sagging tenements and shopfronts, their balconies crowded with drying nets and flapping laundry. Vendors hawk trinkets, charms, and stolen goods, their cries competing with the din of dockside taverns and dice games. The raucous clamor of the Elfsong Tavern mingles with gutter-song and whispered dealings. Beneath its grime and bustle, the Lower City conceals a hundred stories—of ambition, desperation, loyalty, and betrayal—each one echoing in the footfalls of a thousand souls trying to rise or survive. It is a crucible where power, coin, and grit are tested daily.

Fog clings to crooked rooftops and worn cobblestones, thick with the glow of lanternlight and drifting ship smoke. Docks creak under crates and shouting dockhands, while alleyways vanish into shadow behind rusted grates and hanging signs. Bright fabrics and salted fish hang from market stalls, and tavern windows flicker with firelight and revelry. Everywhere, the city feels tight, loud, and alive with struggle and grit.