Kirkwall, approached from land, sat in the delta of the bay like a fat, squalid salamander. It clung to the hills, mottled and shining, just barely dipping its tail into the sea. Closer on, the walls seemed taller, more daunting, Sorrel's first impression of the City of Chains was much less painful. The city seemed like a reluctant amphibian; something caught awkwardly between, and failing in both directions.

( Happy families are all alike... )