The Carver - Part 1.5 - Welcome to Port Stepper
Port Stepper was a harbor town on the coast of Maine. A reasonably large city, its economy was based mostly on the cargo ships coming in and distributing their freight. There are five major ports for docking and at least twenty smaller, more discrete docks hastily assembled by groups who wished to hide their freight. The harbors were surrounded by warehouses and shipping yards for almost a mile and a half beyond the water’s edge.
Once a visitor got past the dampness of the harbors, they would emerge in the outskirts of the bustling downtown area. Shops and restaurants showed up increasingly close until every building around them had some sort of attraction ready to entice, entertain, and fulfill any desire.
Most buildings were at least three stories tall, designed to be boarding houses, private apartments, or offices. Expensive looking brownstone townhouses cropped up on some streets. Their elegance would break up the hustle and bustle of downtown with a moment of awe and quiet.
Further still into the city, a visitor could find the one large park Port Stepper was proud to maintain. Nearly forty blocks long and twenty wide, the park had a few walking paths that wound around the outside, trees to cover much of the area, and a field in the center designed specifically for rambunctious kids to run around.
Surrounding the park was the bulk of the residential district. Some grocery stores and variety stores were scattered throughout. Three blocks west of downtown stood a flower shop, soon to be opened by a tall young man with red hair. On the upper west end of the city, the upper class and their luxurious mansions sprawled across a full five-mile stretch. The parties they threw would light up the sky with fireworks and spotlights. It was almost as though the area was its own little world of play and excess.
The lower west end of Port Stepper was one of the shadier places to be. There were more than a few fake business fronts covering up laundering schemes or small-time drug rings. Then there were the “law offices” that would help settle any case out of court and, with the right amount of money, make that problem vanish entirely. The crime families that ran the city lived there and staked their claim on the city streets.
Overall, no one would call the city a dangerous place to be, as long as you knew where to avoid at night. Port Stepper was a beautiful place to live and work, in the light of day. Getting caught after dark in the wrong places could mean, at best, a couple of bruises and an empty wallet. At worst, a small misunderstanding would turn into a death sentence.
