Turn back the clock. Let's take a glimpse at the city of dreams. This is where the story unfolds on an overcast morning where one man's life is set to change. Before colonization, there was only a vast stretch of fertile land not too far from the ocean. In the beginning there was nothing much to look at, but over time the city began to acquire fame the world over thanks to the founder of the city, who was known to all as "The King," Gol D. Roger. He was an explorer who sailed around the world discovering new places and ancient civilizations. His actions paved the way for generations of intrepid, young entrepreneurs who dreamed of gaining a name for themselves.
Winding its way throughout the whole land was the mighty Sandora River-- a vital source of life without which the land could not sustain itself. When Roger first disembarked upon the rocky shores, he knew he had found a paradise. He and his crew discovered the place was inhabited by natives who called themselves Shandians. It wasn't long before Roger's charisma had won over the hearts of all, as he was wont to do wherever he went. His crew built a little town with the Shandians' help. They partied by night and went on adventures by day, trekking further inland-- even to the distant mountains up north. Yet no matter how far or how long Roger traveled, he always returned to the town he had helped create.
Not too many years later, the legendary Tom's Workers revolutionized sea travel and opened the way for a great migration of people to distant shores. In a golden age of miraculous inventions and brilliant explorers and scientists, civilization rapidly expanded. Indeed, it was an industrial revolution on a worldwide scale. However, with every revolution, there is always a price to pay.
The Shandians came to learn that not everybody was as friendly as Roger's crew had been. The land was a rich source of life, and most importantly, resources. The surrounding jungle was cleared to make way for a city, no a metropolis, that established itself as a crossroads of commerce, wealth, fame, and power. Concrete and steel replaced soil and even the sacred grounds of the Shandians, who found themselves driven away much like the exotic animals which inhabited the country too.
Roger's crew all spoke out on behalf of their good friends, but a new age was already on the rise. Roger traveled less in later years and finally contracted an incurable illness on his last voyage. His death was shocking, but he reached the hearts of many who sought the balance and peace of the olden days.
Now in the present, the city had expanded so much that it was split in two by the Sandora River, at least half a mile wide. A massive bridge was built in order to connect the two halves. The western side of the city was settled first, and as such, was more modern and central to the economic standing of major industries and businesses, such as Doskoi Panda Incorporated and Baroque Works. The latter was headed by Crocodile, a rookie who made a name for himself despite having little background and experience.
Countless shops, restaurants, cafés, and looming skyscrapers populated this area. At the center of all this was a vast stretch of green known as Long Ring Long Park: the largest man-made park in the world.
On the other side of the city was a sports stadium, museums, and the famous, or perhaps infamous, place known simply as Downtown. This was the shadier half of the city, full of all sorts of mystery. During the day, Downtown seemed deserted, but when darkness fell, it came alive. The greatest of nightclubs, casinos, theaters, and bars could be found here. It wasn't the world's largest pleasure district for nothing. The bars and strange shops also attracted teenagers who loved to live it up and get drunk all the time.
Towards the far northeast lay the dreaded "Mock Town": a slum crawling with thieves and ruffians of the worst kind, save perhaps for the insane asylum on the southernmost fringes of the city. Mock Town was the sort of place to avoid at all costs, especially because violence broke out so frequently that the police rarely even bothered to go there. Nobody wanted to mess with the territory of big name gangs and drug dealers. Compared to that, the downtown area appeared to be far more tame. In a way.
The best and brightest of people all flocked to the city. Not just for the fine research facilities and schools, but the beach and amusement parks were a great place for vacations as well. No matter where you went, it was a fascinating experience, though most tended to stay on the western half because whispers about Mock Town spooked the average person. Were it not for the stadium and rock concert area, it seems doubtful that anyone would choose to venture in the northeast at all.
It was a great melting pot of people young and old, rich and poor. An eclectic mix of culture that was teeming with liveliness; it was a strange sense of vigor that seemed to hum inside every person, twig, and stone. Many people bustled about the sidewalks to and fro, overwhelming the senses if you were unfamiliar with this place where anything can happen. Both halves had their own unique energy and flow that was simply amazing in every regard. It stood for dreams and for hope. It stood as the pinnacle of miracles and wonder. It was at the very summit of the world, and it never failed to fill people with awe upon hearing its name.
What is the name of this city you ask? Loguetown.