The colony of New Jamestown has tripled in size over the past twenty years, currently one of three major ports of call for arriving colonists like yourselves, along with Newer Amsterdam and Newer Orleans. The architecture is modest, compared to the soaring heights of London or the dense, many-layered structures and substructures of Paris. A reinforced hob-cobble perimeter of brass, iron, held together by wood frames rise into the air 12 feet up, containing 2/3 of the town. Above these, at 200-300ft. intervals, are raised platforms with armed guards The village has a ramshackle, hodge-podge appearance throughout, connecting with the port docks on the southern side—the remaining 1/3.
As you disembark the Adament II, you notice that adjacent to the docks stand several storage towers, connected near the top by iron railings and catwalks to each other and an assortment of aerial houses, pre-fabricated, bought and brought, no doubt, by Imperial Merchant Guild who oversaw the resettlement of New Jamestown. The Merchantmen or “Merchs” always keep themselves well supplied and always get the best accommodations. The rest of the “city,” remained firmly planted on the ground, a uniform single level height, excepting the dives constructed underneath many of the structures, forming various workshops, and storage areas for the incoming and outgoing shipments. In only twenty years, smog rested above the port, obscuring a maze of smokestacks and crude coal chimneys, which rise from nearly every building in sight. As you made port, you notice that the trees grow right to the waterfront, a mixture of oaks, maples, and evergreens, on the far right and left of the town, but beyond the rising forest you cannot see anything else.