At the southeastern end of the IronHold Dominion stood Onyxgate, a city unlike any other, pressed against the jagged peaks of the Thunderveil Range, the mountain range that hosted IronPeak and other strange mountains within itself.
The city's strategic location at the empire's edge, bordering the Stormwatch Empire, made it a place of both power and peril. It was the place that received heavy scrutiny from two empires, a pressure chamber ready to blow with one slight mistake.
What truly set it apart was the marvel of magical engineering and perseverance that had carved a passage through the mountain itself, connecting two empires which at the moment of this city's foundation were on good terms.
This narrow, imposing route connected Onyxgate to StormCradle, the border city of Stormwatch empire, the empire that neighbored IronHold Dominion. Over fifteen massive gates lined this treacherous pathway, each one fortified and manned, seven for each, ensuring no one crossed without their respective empire's approval.
The city itself was nothing short of a fortress, blending stone and steel into a seamless structure that seemed to rise naturally from the mountain's base. Massive walls of blackened stone encased the city, with sharp-edged towers decorated with artillery and watchtowers that pierced the skyline. It was ready to answer any invasion and send them back home crying.
Onyxgate was divided into districts, each serving its unique role in the city's function and defense.
Closest to the main entrance was the Outer District, where merchants and travelers gathered. Markets thrived here, offering goods from across Avaloria and beyond, though every transaction was under the careful watch of Dominion guards, or so it was told.
Deeper inside was the Barracks District, home to the garrisoned soldiers who formed the backbone of Onyxgate's defense. The district was a labyrinth of narrow, soot-streaked streets lined with military structures, each building a fortress in its own right. Training yards rang with the harsh clang of swords on shields, the rhythmic thud of fists against armor, and the gruff bellow of commanding officers pushing their troops to the limits.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat and metal as soldiers sparred, honing their combat skills day and night. Barracks stretched across the district like a small town within the city, each building housing dozens of soldiers in cold, cramped quarters. The barracks were designed for function, with little concern for comfort, though they were fortified with thick walls and reinforced doors, ensuring security at every turn.
Every corner of the district seemed to hum with discipline. Watchful eyes were always upon the streets, and every soldier, whether they were grizzled veteran or fresh recruit, moved with purpose. A permanent feeling of alertness filled the air, as if the city itself was perpetually preparing for an invasion. Alongside the barracks, armories and storage warehouses were scattered, holding a vast arsenal of weapons, armor, and war machines, all waiting for the call to arms.
At the far end of the Barracks District was the training hall, a massive structure where soldiers learned strategy and warfare. Here, maps were spread out on tables, and commanders huddled over plans of action. The walls were lined with trophies of past victories—crimson banners, dented shields, and the occasional weapon that had seen battle against invaders.
The soldiers in the Barracks District had no luxury, no time to waste. Their lives were centered on the defense of Onyxgate and the IronHold Dominion, their loyalty unquestioned and their resolve tempered by years of constant vigilance. It was a place of unwavering discipline, where the clang of metal and the stinging wind of the mountains were as familiar as the sounds of their own breath.
The Barrack district was perhaps the most important aspect of Onyxgate and it should be as it was the shield that protected the Dominion from its adversaries.
...
The Central Square was the beating heart of Onyxgate. Statues of IronHold's founder, Lord Iron-Heart, stood proudly, surrounded by fountains that trickled cool water from the mountains. Here, different announcements were made, a board was also present there, where different news of the empire and about other empires and kingdoms was also posted, and judgments passed, the very air thick with the weight of authority. Surrounding the square were the wealthier residences and the estate of the Blackstone family, the ruling stewards of Onyxgate.
The Blackstone Estate was a fortress within the fortress. It was a grand and imposing structure, a castle of dark stone that seemed to rise from the very mountain it was built near, its silhouette sharp and formidable against the sky.
The estate's walls were made of thick black stone, smooth and cold to the touch, with intricate carvings etched into their surface that told the story of the Blackstone family's long and storied history. High walls protected the sprawling compound, which included lush gardens, armories and a grand hall that served as both a residence and a command center. The Blackstones were known for their stern rule and unyielding loyalty to the Dominion.
Just like any other city, there was also the noble district where nobility, or those with enough wealth to order others around, lived. Just like every other architecture of the Onyx, the houses and manor inside the noble district were a rare sight, making one wonder, 'What marvelous architect made such a beautiful piece of art?'
There was also a dark side of the city, but who talks about such a thing when describing about their things.
Rumors spread about the family's ancestral relics, particularly the Divine Onyx Shard, a black crystal said to pulse with the will of the mountain itself. Some claimed the shard allowed the Blackstones to control the very stone of the Thunderveil Range, making Onyxgate an unassailable stronghold.
Legends surrounded Onyxgate like the mist that clung to its peaks. One told of the Shadow Legion, an army that once emerged from the mountain's depths during the Dominion's infancy.
According to the tale, the legion was born of the mountain's rage, a curse laid upon those who sought to carve through its sacred stone. Only the Blackstones' ancestor, Orin Blackstone, armed with the Onyx Shard, was able to quell the legion and seal them within the depths of the Thunderveil.
Another whispered of the Black River, a hidden underground waterway that ran beneath the city and stretched deep into the mountain. It was said to have been a lifeline during a siege centuries ago, providing sustenance and a means of escape. But others claimed it was not water that flowed through the Black River, but an ancient power, one that still stirred beneath Onyxgate, waiting to be unleashed.
These tales gave Onyxgate a sense of foreboding and fascination. Its towering gates and shadowed alleys carried an air of defiance, as if the city itself dared any foe to test its strength. It stood as a bulwark against the Stormwatch Empire, its people proud and unyielding, as solid as the black stone that defined their home.