Introduction
Ignore all pretenders, even very handsome and charming ones who share my name and likeness!
This is the ultimate Cantonovan travel guide to purchase! (You're not standing at the bookstore reading it all in one go, are you? Please do purchase it.) This is your guide to the Metropolis of Faeries, the jewel of the
Vía Titania, the Beating Heart of the World itself! There's simply no place like it. I spent plenty of my youth here as a local, and plenty of my adult life exploring the various (and largely lesser, I'm sorry to say) locales of Belcantas. A return to Cantonova is nothing short of a revelation, writ in marble and oak, in cobblestone and roiling sea. Join me, one and all, for a non-exhaustive and yet quite thorough jaunt (pun intended) through the greatest city on this plane or any other.
Area Overview
You need not consult many maps to make your way to Cantonova. Simply wend your way to the
Vía Titania, then follow it east to its terminus. There you find yourself in Cantonova—in the center of its four boroughs, with the grandest of marketplaces at its core!
Cuarto Almaviva, of course, is the most vaunted of the collection. Most of the landmarks you've heard of—the Royal Institute of Cantonova, the Royal Phoenix Theater, and of course the Almaviva Palace—are situated here, as are the homes of the city's well-to-do. Cuarto Alto is where you'll find the merchants and craftsmen, nestled in the nastiest of Cantonova's mercurial hills. Cuarto Porata lies low at the mouth of the Dreibach River and houses its famous ports... and the famously cursed Cuarto Perso inhabits the last quadrant, and the one area I can't recommend.
Landmarks
What, in the grand sculptural wedding-cake of a city that is Cantonova,
doesn't constitute a landmark? (Well, alright, certainly
some places. Your humble scribe claims no architectural sigificance for the various gutters, hovels, and alleyway shacks that are liable to spring up in any conurbation of note.) By and large, though, the city is simply glimmering with marvels of structural ingenuity—bearing trademarks of elven, human, halfling, dwarven, and perhaps even fey ingenuity. And the domes—ah, the domes! You'll be up to your dome in domes! I shall hold myself to one landmark per borough, though I yearn to cover more—as should you, if you visit.
Should you travel by land, your first stop is—of course—the
Great Gates of Cantonova. They're solid gates, utilitarian by any measure, but worth noting for the ivy, clematis, and other vines that thrive along the perimeter. Each plant is a careful cutting from some traveler or another; look closely along the roots, and you'll note that many contributors have carved their name in a cobblestone or two. Some names along the less-familiar flowers seem to be in Sylvan—though your humble scribe here can't attest to the veracity of those.
If you embark by sea, you'll begin in the Cuarto Porata. This is the largest port in the world—and naturally, diverse enough to make that influence clear. Every elf tribe, every gnomish origin, every halfling clan, every human sect leaves some mark among the spider's web of streets stretching out from the piers. You might even find influence from the Mystic Lands—it's said that the
Minotaur's Pleasure Dome here models the streets of great cities that even Belcantas's finest explorers have yet to witness. (If there is sufficient demand to a guide for these lands, perhaps your humble Homesick Halfling will brave them someday... ah, but I do get ahead of myself!)
If you visit nothing else in Cuarto Almaviva, make it the
Duomo te-Arwë, the semi-open mall in the centre of the Cuarto Almaviva—regardless of your tailoring budget, visit for the artistry of the fountains and tilework alone. In the previous Cantonova guide from a similarly-named series, the author was hesitant to name any shop as the mall's finest. I hold no such qualms, myself: Cyrano Chastain, that most lauded of moon elven tailors, makes his home at the Duomo's northwest corner, and anyone with the means to commission his services who passes through the city without doing so would be a boor... and a poorly-dressed boor at that.
And yet, my favorite of these landmarks is the
Teatro del-Pirota, three blocks north of the markets in the Cuarto Alto. Clowns, jesters, and mimes of all sorts tumble across these harlequin-tiled halls, bringing delight to even the dourest of souls who wander therein. Anyone incapable of finding mirth and respite in this veritable mansion of merriment should seek spiritual help the likes of which I am unequipped to provide.
Special Events
Nobody—and I mean
nobody—celebrates so much as a gnome's hoedown like a Cantonovan can. Name a holiday, and I'll show you its Cantonovan iteration in its full, unrivaled glory, eclipsing any provincial equivalent you may hold up as a bellwether. Go on, I'll wait. Saint Tenser's Day? It can't be matched—the mages of the Metamorphic Palisade are resplendent in pink-and-gold parades all along the shore. You want the Summer Solstice—are you kidding me? Pixies and sprites themselves dot the lantern-studded streets, serving dumplings and fruit to all who make merry beside them. Grandest of all, Snowfall's Eve: orchestras and puppeteers line every corner, and a veritable host of the Seelie fey mingle among the masked locals as we bid farewell to their influence upon the Material Plane. Whichever holiday you wish, Cantonova has you covered. Visit any time of year—the domed city never disappoints.
Food, Drink, and Lodging
It is utterly impossible to give a proper overview of the inns, restaurants, hostels, bars, public houses, teahouses, coffeehouses, wineries, breweries, eateries, drinkeries, sleeperies, and truly anything-eries that dot the streets of Cantonova, without shortchanging many a deserving establishment and angering many a kind and hospitable proprietor. I apologize—I truly do! What's printed below is merely a token record of the gist of the aura of the essence of what I could capture from the four boroughs, one per each. (If you desire a more thorough guide, please write to Fiddle-About Press at the address provided on the back page; we would gladly publish a longer treatise, if there happens to be enough public demand.)
The Owl and Oak. This is a newer establishment, situated on the waterfront near the Royal Almaviva Palace, and yet it's clearly earned its place in the Cantonovan pantheon of fine dining. This, dear traveler, is the epitome of the great Cantonovan institution of
brunch. For the unfamiliar, this meal is similar to elevenses: a combination of breakfast and lunch foods, served during a reasonable compromise between the two times. You might dine on hamburger topped with runny egg; your companion, upon
halbefrenbrodt and local berries. Both are washed down with a mixture of champagne and fresh fruit juice, bringing together the best compromise any meal could possibly provide.
Old Burgenbough's. This fine establishment is an oddity, to be sure. It lives not quite in any borough, as it sits at the southern terminus of the marketplace, somewhat straddling the Cuarto Perso and the Cuarto Porata yet belonging to neither. The inn's lore would have you believe it is
wood-sung, as the great architecture of
Scalados is—and yet, the grand oaken bar and multitudinous rooms all bear obvious signs of halfling mastercraft. The stylized tree-like edifice of the market-facing front is unmistakable at any distance, and it even retains a semblance of leafy canopy hanging above its balcony restaurant, which serves an impressive variety of elven, halfling, and human libations and pub fare. Still, I can't help but harbor my doubts. No shade (pun intended) to whatever druids may have lent their touch, but I simply can't discount the architectural contributions of the carpenters clearly collaborating on this commendable complex.
Cuarto Alto Courtesan's Guild. High in the hills of the humble Muilpont neighborhood, a veritable miniature castle—guarded by surprisingly erotic gargoyles of all genders—contains the primary operations of Cantonova's Courtesan's Guild, among the oldest on the continent. I pass no judgment on what you do here, or which of the bewitching employees you ask to join you. I merely offer that the fey-fruited sangria at the bar is to die for, and that seems as good a reason to visit somewhere as here or anywhere else could offer. Use this knowledge well—tip generously—and please, do not mention my name.
The Brawny Prawn. Other guides—yes, even those written by handsome young rogues quite familiar with the city—may have told you to avoid the Cuarto Porata, or at least implied so by omission. Trust this seasoned traveler—this is a mistake! The seafood that's to be found along these southern shores is second-to-none. Stick to the Vía Marina along the waterfront if you wish to overpay for bland
poisson d'airë... or navigate a few blocks inwards to Fishwives' Gulch, ignore the inherently unappetizing name of the neighborhood, and duck into any eccentric chip-shop that catches your eye for whatever the old broad behind the counter proclaims their particular specialty. The latter (including my particular favorite, the Brawny Prawn, with its titular crustacean-heavy gumbo) will bring you myriad maritime delicacies you never would have experienced otherwise; the former will bring you an adequate meal followed by a night of hallucination-inducing indigestion. It's ultimately your call, dear reader. Discerning as you were to pick up this guide, I am confident in your ability to properly exercise your gods-given gift of free will.
Safety
Cantonova is valiantly defended by the Royal Cantonovan Guard, the stalwart violet-clad knights you will no doubt see patrolling its various avenues. Nevertheless, it is a city—and as per all such metropolises (metropoles? metropoli? metropilopodes?), a number of thieves' guilds abound. Eschew any reference to the Eye, the Hand, or the Flame—three underworld guilds that seem to have overtaken the city's less-than-savory establishments. Do not ask the difference between them; I do not know, and have suffered some number of indignities trying to determine it.
Final Thoughts
What else can I say about Cantonova? Many, many more paragraphs, I'm sure. I have constrained myself only upon the knowledge that adding even one more page would increase the publisher's cost considerably. There are worlds within worlds within its walls, and not five volumes of guides could cover this city in all its complex splendour. It's Elysium, it's Pandemonium, it's Faerieland... it's home.
About the Author
Merriweather Jaunt, aka "The Homesick Halfling," is the owner and head travel writer of Fiddle-About Press. His travel guides include best-sellers "(The Homesick Halfling's Guide to) Urbana al-Sona" and "(The Homesick Halfling's Guide to) Cantonova, Vol.1." The Homesick Halfling is proud to say he has only been kidnapped by ogres once.
Comments