Athas on Foot: My Stop in Tyr

Part II — Walking the City Beneath Kalak’s Eye

I didn’t have to ask where the arena was. Standing beside Kalak’s ziggurat, it’s impossible to miss. This is where the blood-sports are held, where the city gathers to watch lives end for spectacle. I was told that, on rare occasions, Kalak himself comes here to listen to the roar of the crowd. When he does, he watches from a box seat at one end of the arena, far above and far removed from the filthy rabble below. Most days, though, he isn’t here at all. They say he remains hidden deep within his Golden Tower.

I could see that tower from the far side of the arena, opposite the ziggurat. It rises from the center of Kalak’s palace, surrounded at its base by lush gardens—green in a way that feels wrong this close to the desert. Those gardens are said to feed Kalak’s defiler magic. Beyond them, the ground gives way to buildings and colonnades where only Kalak and his six high templars are allowed to walk. Few others are ever summoned there. Fewer still are said to come back.

Further out, at the edge of the sorcerer-king’s grounds, lies the templar quarter. The templars live apart from the rest of the city, and after seeing how they’re regarded, I understand why. They are feared and little loved. If they lived among the people, murder and riot would be common. Instead, they gather together in comfort and security. I was told that the best foods, goods, and services in Tyr can be found there—but only a foolhardy or dazzling thief would dare enter the compound.

Truth is, everything about the Golden Tower and the templar quarter reaches people like me only as rumor. No one speaks of them plainly. Any step taken in those places may be the last one a person ever takes.

What I do know comes from where my feet actually carried me: past the massive gates, through the bustling markets, along bawdy streets and vermin-ridden slums, between crowded merchant houses and into sight of the polished quarters of the nobility. This is the Tyr most people know—the Tyr that presses in on you from all sides.

I entered the city through the caravan quarter, where outlanders and slow-moving merchant caravans choke the streets. The main road here is Caravan Way, and it winds straight toward Kalak’s ziggurat. Along it sit caravansaries, outfitters, beast traders, inns, merchant houses, and wine shops. There’s no shortage of goods or services, but everything comes at a premium. The quarter never seems to sleep, and it’s well patrolled. Merchants pay the templars dearly for that protection.

The caravan quarter runs straight into the noble quarter. The change is hard to miss. Here, nobles keep small, walled citadels with slave quarters, gardens, guardhouses, and private apartments. Most of them contribute generously to the city coffers, and those who do receive preferential protection from the templars’ half-giant patrols. Few nobles actually live inside the city walls, though. Their private armies aren’t allowed here, so many prefer estates beyond Tyr.

Now and then, I came across noble townhouses scattered elsewhere in the city. Some were built by rising sons of old families. Others were moved here by Kalak himself, as punishment to certain houses. However they came to be, these isolated pockets of wealth stand out sharply—and more than once, I heard them spoken of as prime targets for thieves and thugs.

I’ll stop here for now. Tomorrow I’ll try to see more of the city beyond the main roads, and I’ll add to this when I do.

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