Once called Southport, the city was founded during the time of Bael Turath where the Arandor river empties into the sea. Once, it was the southern jewel of Bael Turath, a shining beacon of trade and boundless opportunity.
Nothing lasts forever. Even before the fall of Bael Turath, the city had begun to deteriorate. Bael Turath itself had already begun to become what would be called the Balelands and the corruption of that land seemed to ooze down the Arandor river. Though it was hardly noticeable at first, something in the atmosphere of the city was changing. The city seemed to darken, the streets kept more grime on the cobbles no matter how much the sweepers scrubbed.
The fall of Bael Turath only soured things further. Blackport’s economy collapsed and a string of nobles ruled over the next century that were constantly either putting down insurrections or being toppled by them. Yet the new lords never seemed to fare any better than the old. It was during this time that the city garnered it’s current name: Blackport, the dark city.
Yet the lawlessness didn’t last forever. Soon, Nerath began to impose it’s will. With the religion of the Magisterium sweeping through the human population hope began to spring up, and the city even seemed to brighten a bit. There was a air of hopefulness and vitality. Though the city never lost it’s dark side, it became famous for being a gritty rough-and-tumble port of call, and such a reputation was attractive to certain people.
Yet Nerath fell as well to petty squabbling and political intrigue in it’s capital. Blackport seemed to soldier on for a time, but with the advance of the barbarian humanoids in the west, a new melancholy has set in. Attempts to stop them have failed, and now they have nearly taken everything west of the Arandor and north of the Archa Primabora. The people themselves seem to be resigned to their fate, and in the taverns the drunks bet with gallows-humor on when, not if the horde will storm the city.