Passengers, if they notice that, decline to remark on it.

They have so much to decline to remark on.

One of them is too busy staring in fascination at the city to engage in banter about its announcements, anyway.

The city cut an imposing figure from the sea, but looking up at it from the river that cuts through its heart, this impression is magnified. Tall, imposing buildings of stone and brick line the busy river, dwarfing Karnaca's more modest and colorful arrangement of buildings with an almost casual ease. The city is as stately as it is vertical, cold and austere and intimidating all at once, and achingly beautiful in spite of them all. Perhaps even because of them. This is an old city, one that has withstood the test of time atop its rocky cliffs. It is anything but dead. Mechanical wonders have taken hold of the skyline, no doubt the latest works of genius of the many geniuses that make their homes within these walls. Newly built factories stand beside stately buildings and utilitarian housing alike, integrating them all into a seemingly unending urban sprawl. This is a city that is evolving as quickly as it can manage, one that holds every many wonders of the known world, and hungers for more.

Ahead, dwarfing the city that dwarfs all other cities, Dunwall Tower sits with exquisite grace, apart and above and at the center of this city. It is a silver beacon that shines like a gem against Dunwall's slate and brick backdrop, marred only by the black shrouds of mourning that darken its walls.

"Wonder who the sap was that had to hang those up," says the sailor. "Bet it paid shit."

His hands are sure and steady, offering some redemption for his mouth. The Wrenhaven river is calm, but it holds more than a few dangers. They've already passed one hapless boat where it beached on a hidden rock; the Empress's funeral brought a number of unworthy sailors to this river. Better to have a mouthy but skilled one than a silent fool. Even if it does rather ruin the effect.

"I don't know," says the teenage passenger. "I'd love to climb up there and hang drapes all day. Bet the view's amazing."

He shrugs. "No bet. Of course the view's amazing. Pretty view, only a handful of people that can see it. Typical."

He gazes thoughtfully up at the tower.

His mother taps him gently on the top of the head with a fingertip. "Down, Firasuvai," she says in a hard-to-place accent. "We haven't even landed yet and already you seek trouble."

"That one's better for nice views," the sailor offers, inclining his head towards the sight ahead, sounding almost affectionate.

Dunwall Tower recedes into the fog, and is replaced by another impressive sight; Kaldwin's Bridge. There's no question as to how new this structure is. The steel frames that makes up most of the bridge show no sign of rust, and so even in the overcast day it dominates the horizon as it dominates the river. Fortunately for passing boats, it takes after every other building in Dunwall, by being impressively tall.

"The Emperor provides for us all, and all that. By letting us look at pretty views." Then, because that probably wasn't cynical enough, he adds: "So we wouldn't be in danger of forgetting him, y'see."

"No fear of that," says the father of the family.

He shrugs, looking up at the bridge. It's rather unforgettable.

"Guess not," he agrees.

Unfortunately for the passengers, their stop is before the bridge itself, so they don't get to sail under it. Their talkative sailor falls silent in concentration, and deftly steers them to their port. Once there, he begins the process of displaying proper permits to the proper officials.

"Mind that you keep your papers on you," he warns, after he's handled this particular branch of bureaucracy for them. "The guards'll be on edge all week, on account'a the crowds. Don't expect patience from 'em."

"Hear that, Rani?"

"Yes, Father."

The sailor snorts, but for once, doesn't comment. He helps them get their luggage off of his boat, takes his pay, and then leaves.

There's a carriage waiting for them, and a driver to go with it.

"Lord and Lady Norwood will be ever so pleased to see you arrived safely!" says the slightly pompous man, who jauntily hops down from his perch to sketch an exaggerated bow. "Kent Oliver, at your humble service, it is an absolute pleasure to welcome you to our fair city!"

"Hi! Nice to meet you!" says the teenager.

"We feel very welcomed," says the teenager's father. "Thank you."

"It's a delight to meet you too, young man!" agrees Kent, brightly. "Oh, my pleasure, my pleasure, let me help you with those bags, you've come such a long way, wouldn't want you to get rained on now, after all that, and it looks like it might start soon." It's overcast, but one might get the impression that it often tends to be overcast in Dunwall. It plausibly might start raining at any time.

Mr. Oliver begins getting luggage into the carriage, babbling all the while. "It was drizzling this morning, and Lady Norwood was ever so worried that you might arrive half-drowned, and what kind of welcome would that be, really, we made sure to get the fires in your guest rooms ready and have the towels on standby but there is just no substitute for arriving to a new place and just being able to settle in and have dinner without having to have the servants wring all of your clothes out for you, such a bother -"

He is probably not going to stop talking unless someone intervenes.

He has an eager audience! In one family member, at least. He helps Mr. Oliver get all the bags into the carriage.

Then his eager audience will get to hear all about the arrangements they've prepared for them! They have extra warm clothes and blankets (because Serkonos is so much warmer than Dunwall, and they wouldn't want their guests to catch a cold) and by now dinner will just about be ready, he hopes no one has any allergies? They're having mutton as the main course, do they have any objections to mutton, he's sure the cook can whip up something else in a jiffy if any of them dislike it, and for that matter do they want to try to keep to familiar Serkonos-appropriate foods, or maybe experiment a little with local cuisine, you can get just about anything in Dunwall for the right price, it's very handy, they can get adventurous if they want to!

Bags are packed into the carriage. There are comfortable seats inside the carriage, and space beside Mr. Oliver outside of the carriage, if his eager audience is still feeling eager.

His eager audience is so eager! Mutton is fine and he's sure his parents will want to try a local food or two.

Oh, excellent, Mr. Oliver has so many recommendations, perhaps his eager audience has an idea of what sorts of things his parents will want to try, the obvious thing is whale meat prepared in this specific very well explained manner, has he had whale meat before? He knows it's not as common in Serkonos. It's becoming so very popular in Dunwall, though, practically everyone's having a taste, and their cook is quite good with it -

The conversation is probably not enough to distract from some of the people that are staring in the street. Their carriage isn't particularly noteworthy, and it's hardly the only one on the road, but Raniero himself is something of a novelty.

If he's paying attention to things that aren't Mr. Oliver, he might overhear that woman over there matter-of-factly telling her companion about that commoner that married some savage he found in Pandyssia, and they think themselves nobility! Followed, of course, by laughter.

Anizai Tasarni Kaolteleru Ivasicala Medina is a straight-up princess by any sane standard, but Rani has long since learned the futility of pointing this out. He does his best to ignore the gossip.

There's not much one can do about nasty gossip from a carriage, anyway. Ignoring it is probably his best option.

Mr. Oliver continues babbling, which probably helps with that.

Mr. Oliver's babble is fascinating!

He is delighted to have such an appreciative audience!

Soon enough, they arrive at the Norwood estate. It's not as tall as some of its peers, but this is Dunwall and 'not as tall' means it's still at least three stories.

"Here we are!" says their escort as they pull up, cutting his talk of fashion trends in Dunwall appropriate for a state funeral. (Black is traditional, but lately deep muted blues and steely grays have become more common.) He dutifully descends from his seat to open the door for Raniero's parents. "I believe you have time to get properly settled in before dinner, but if any of you are famished I can persuade someone to send any of you something to eat...?"