Each district has its own mayor who handles local affairs, all of whom are elected except the mayor of The Nettles, whose additional role as guardian of the cursed Cauldron Hill requires he be ap- pointed by the governor and approved by the king.
Districts also elect representatives to the city council, whose authority is balanced against that of the city governor, Roland Stanfield. Technically the position of governor is elected, but aside from brief periods after the deaths of various incarnations, Stan- field has held the position for over four centuries.

Navras Opera House

Flint’s oldest surviving building is the Navras Opera House in the central district. Navras, an eladrin who fled Elfaivar after the Great Malice, designed the opera house and laid the cornerstone with a brick he had brought from his homeland. He spent nearly two hundred years personally overseeing its construction, and was aided by no less than eight Risuri kings. When he completed the building, incongruously huge for what was at the time just a small river fort city, Navras gave the first performance by sing- ing the dirge of Vekesh. As the audience cheered and wept at his performance, he walked off the stage and disappeared forever. The acoustic design of the performance hall somehow captures magical power from song, or from the emotional reactions of the audi- ence. Impresarios who coordinate performance almost always hire spellcasting bards to harness this energy and craft a magic item as a me- mento of the show. In the three hundred years since the Navras Opera House opened, most of these items have found their ways into private collections, but a rare few have become famous, such as the Hurricane Violin, which commemo- rated the Fable of Seaquen and later banished a sea monster that threatened Flint Harbor in 417 a.o.v.

Depending on who you ask, the name Bosum Strand comes either from the boatswains who frequented its taverns, or from the har- bor’s more traditional name, which translated to bosom of the sea. In either case, the docks along the east shore of Flint Bay are the heart of the city’s trade, culture, and crime.
Hundreds of warehouses serve Flint’s merchant fleet, and doz- ens of bars, taverns, gambling houses, and brothels serve its dock workers. Craftsmen, artists, and money changers own shops sur- rounding several scattered public squares throughout the district, and the district’s mayor Griffin Stowe has strong-armed property owners along major streets to ensure that when the wealthy and influential travel the strand they are not forced to see any of the district’s uncouth underbelly.
This is why, of course, the dockers make a point to perform on as many street corners and squares as possible.
The district is currently clearing out tenants and demolishing buildings for a freight rail line. The station is already under con- struction, and once complete it will speed delivery of raw materials and natural exports. More importantly, it will let Flint share its industrial bounty with the rest of the nation. Unusually, many local druids have been recruited to speak with the spirits of the land and appease them so they will not disrupt the building process.
The Night of the Mirror Moon occurs when the High Winter moon is the fourth full moon of the season. From the moment the moon shines on Flint Harbor, anyone who enters the water while holding a mirror will emerge in the Dreaming analogue of Bosum Strand. There, it is said, the docks are replaced by a glorious beach where all the fey from miles around gather for the wildest party one could ever imagine. Sometimes people fail to get back before the moon sets, while others return with magical powers, a gift or bar- gain from the fey. The last such Mirror Moon happened seventeen years ago, in 483 a.o.v., and the next will be in two years.

The oldest and most developed district of Flint is home to its main government structures, including the city council, superior court, police headquarters, and the offices of various civil functionaries like tax collectors. Grand party halls, ornate druid- ic garden temples, and parks filled with monuments to old wars provide recreation and entertainment for the city’s nobility and prospering middle class, while the Orange Street commodities market and the prestigious Pardwight University are the dual hearts of Flint’s economic and academic cultures.
The district mayor Oncala Putnam recently approved construction of a grand subrail station to serve as the hub of a city-wide transportation network. Currently the Central district is often clogged with traffic from the surface rail station, since the proposed tunnel through Humble Hill in the Nettles, meant to provide an easier route to the factories of Parity Lake, has been dogged by sabotage from elements opposed to the industrialization of Risur.
Just off the coast in Flint Bay, the city governor’s mansion occupies what was once an island fortress. For the past 400 years Roland Stanfield has, through various incarnations and with only rare disruption, served as city governor, earning near universal respect for his wisdom and leadership.
Perhaps most importantly for the PCs, Central district is home to the local headquarters of the Royal Homeland Constabulary, headed by Lady Inspectress Margaret Saxby. Extensive details of the local branch are presented below, in the Royal Homeland Constabulary section.

A major freight and passenger railroad line enters from the south and stops at King’s Station, but local light rail routes are being constructed throughout Central District. Most of this route travels underground, thus earning the moniker subrail. One section parallel to the freight line travels aboveground in the same corridor, and a brief stretch of track near Pardwight University rises to the surface by necessity, due to some magi- cal quirks of geography.

The eastern outskirts of Flint are dominated by towering mountains, their peaks constantly shrouded in clouds that feed lush rainforests and verdant streams. The steep highlands are sparsely populated, but numerous plantations and small farms fill the flatter terrain near the coast. Few city folk venture out to these lands, believing that here the veil between the real world and the Dreaming is thin. Local myths include countless tales of farmers, travelers, and juvenile miscreants who wander into the foggy woods and suffer wretched fates at the hands of capricious fey.
While most who live in Cloudwood consider it common courtesy to share a bowl of milk or plates of sliced fruit with unseen nightly visitors, the district’s new mayor, Doyle Idylls, has forbidden district employees from engaging in the old tradition.
Mayor Idylls shares his office with the local police branch, and he recently had salt baked into bricks around its base in order to keep away curious fey. Soon after, the building developed a gopher problem. Though criminals in Flint tend to make the Nettles their first stop when on the run from the law, those who really need to lay low find the wild rainforests of Cloudwood ideal. The most rural areas of the district are practically independent thorps and hamlets, many of which are sympathetic to desperate outsiders. Until recently they reaped rewards from collaborating with at least three gangs which operated out of the forest, but a new player in the area has somehow managed to get the gangs to call off their attacks.