Rhydaber is a city clustered around a deep gorge, powered by the rushing river which pours over the edge of the cliff which forms one of the city boundaries. On either side the rolling hills are webbed with roads connecting farms and villages to the city, and beyond them the mountains which surround the hanging valley reach to the sky. There are nearly as many bridges spanning the gorge as there are waterwheels in the river below, their steady turning powering the city mechanisms. The Guild of Machinists is one of the biggest in the city. Halfway up on the eastern side, set back into the actual rock of the gorge rather than on the precarious built-up platforms closer to the river, is the Happy Fish Teahouse, which until recently had been on the verge of closing. Now, as dawn gives way to day, the warm scent of fresh pastry fills the air outside. Within, the baker pulls another tray from the oven and turns to his sister, who is leaning on the table. "Aren't you doing any chuckets today?" she asks. "I think it might be better not to do anything from Grandma's book for a while," he says, looking around furtively. His sister looks very dubious. He leans in. "In case, you know, in case of spies."