Junction

Junction sits on a mesa at the confluence of the North and West Channels, about seven or eight miles west of Lost Angels. It goes without saying that one needs a boat to get there.

It is another town perched at the edge of a high cliff, with its docks far below. It supports what seems to be far too many saloons, dance halls, gambling rooms, and gin mills for its population. Every two weeks their purpose becomes clear, when all those establishments are packed to the gills with drunken diggers.

This town is typically so sleepy and generally deserted one wonders why it exists at all. But every two weeks Junction turns into a veritable madhouse of frenzied miners and exporters. Junction’s the site of the Rockies’ biweekly collection of fundaments—ghost rock, gold, and silver—from all the local miners. Every two weeks a Rockies’ freighter anchors below the town, and the population surges from 23 to over 200. For the next day or so, the saloons and bordellos rake in enough cash to keep them going until the next fundament collection.

Junction

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