Vauclerc

La Ville — the market town, eight hours east on foot or four by horse, and about as far into the wider world as most villagers will ever go. It boasts a wooden wall and a few towers, craftsmen a village cannot support, and the hall of the feudal lord Eustache de Vauclerc, to whom Pontaubert and its neighbours nominally answer.

Of late, journeymen and merchants from the Eoran mainland have crowded in and new housing has not kept pace; there is scarcely room for a housecat, let alone an apprentice. The travelling singer Yvette d’Eaurgentée lodges here between her wanderings.