It’s clear just a few squelchy steps into the Puddles that this district is distressed, impoverished, and drowning. Since an earthquake set off the slow sinking of the district below sea level, the Puddles has been abandoned to fester in the brackish water. At high tide, the ocean overwhelms the sunken land, rendering a boat the best means of travel. At low tide, calf-high waters make the district tedious to navigate. As the tide flows out, the salt-crusted, sewer-stained, molding infrastructure infuses the district with an overpowering stench.

Mundane life endures in the Puddles, regardless of sewer water levels. Inns, restaurants, shops, and homes all have their first floors flooded daily with the tides—and not all residents have higher ground to escape to—yet shops open and patrons slog through the waters to go about their business. The desperate residents have begun manufacturing shoddy flood barriers around their properties or frantically shoveling the land into tiny islands for some respite from the rancid water. The local Skiffers’ Guild offers passage in agile skiffs that weave through flooded alleys. They’re limited on where they can deliver their passengers, however, depending on which local resident or faction has claimed the makeshift islands.