Tymesthafan is the oldest of the cities of the Gwerin. Its ancient rain-worn stones are steeped in the history of the kingdom, carved with centuries of use. Its streets wind in unworked patterns, following the rise and fall of the earth below instead of an architect’s regimented plan. Situated in the Emerald Coast at the estuary of the Eryr, it marks the first settlement of the race in their adopted home, and the origin-point of their faith. The Grian Cathedral towers above the low spires of the eldest houses, and it is in Conall’s Circle that the priests hold the Rites of Dawn.
Everything about Tymesthafan speaks of age. Its streets buckle upward and downward as the ancient roots of long-dead trees displace the cobbles, and its old manses are streaked with lime and ivy as old as the nation. Its buildings stand lower and squatter, their architecture reflecting the harshness of the Kingdom’s first years and the strange echoing call of the Land Oversea, whence came the Gwerin race.
Despite its historical importance, Tymesthafan is no longer the great hub it once was. Though still revered as the First City, it has diminished as the centers of power have moved elsewhere. Eborac swelled with the Imperial conquest and the rise of southern trade; the Council of Lords meets in Anterthadwy; the church hierarchy reaches out from Gwasanaeth. Tymesthafan holds a few important claims still: it remains the manor of the line of Stewards, and hosts the May Tourney. Pilgrims still come to pray at the Cathedral and place offerings at the Isle of Kings. The Llwydnos Monastery continues to be the greatest house of learning on the Isle of the Gwerin. But these things are small beside the rough-hewn glory the city once held.