I’ve pulled a few city maps out, and the grid does line up with a few straight, almost diagonal arteries that cut through the whole thing. Those might echo old ley‑line vibes, but the medieval alleyways don’t follow the same pattern—they’re more like random splinters of history. If I plot the intersections against a compass, there are faint alignments that could hint at a hidden design, but I’ll get lost in the numbers. Maybe start with the old palace on the hill and trace its lines out—then we can see if they bleed into the modern grid.

The main gate faces roughly northwest, about 330°. From there the outer walls run 120° out to the east and 60° to the west, forming a gentle V that lines up with the ridge’s slope. If you extend those two segments back toward the city centre, they intersect the old merchant quarter at about 45° and 225°—exactly the same angles you see in the stone bridges that cross the river. Those bridges sit where the modern street grid turns from the strict orthogonal pattern into a more irregular pattern, almost as if the ancient lines were carving a path through the later grid. I’ve marked those intersection points on the map—if you connect them, the lines cross the main avenue in a faint diagonal that cuts through the square, almost like a seam. It’s subtle, but it could be the ghost of a ley line that the city built around.

Okay, I’ll take the two intersection points that sit at the far corners of the square and draw a straight line between them. I’ll line that up on the map and see if the line passes through any of the old well shafts or the stone walls that still show up in the foundation records. If it does, we’ll have a real anchor point. I’m going to keep the line tidy—no extra curves, just a clean straight segment. Once we confirm the alignment, we can use it to line up the rest of the city’s hidden seams.