Sheffield is technically in South Yorkshire, not Derbyshire — a county boundary that runs through the eastern fringe of the Peak District and places the city just across the administrative line. In practical terms, it is the nearest large city to the Dark Peak moorland: the A57 out of Sheffield climbs directly onto the moors within fifteen minutes of the city centre, past the suburbs giving way to reservoirs and then to open fell. The Snake Pass begins here. The city's western edge is the national park. The boundary is real but not felt.
Sheffield's identity is that of the steel city — a city built on cutlery and heavy industry, on the Don Valley's furnaces and the skill of its craftsmen. By 1995, the steel industry is largely gone: the works dismantled, the Don Valley comprehensively deindustrialised, the city in the process of reconstructing an identity from the ruins of the one it built. The universities, the music scene, the cultural quarter beginning to develop in the Devonshire Quarter — these are the emerging answer to the question of what Sheffield becomes when it stops making steel. That question is, in 1995, still open.
Within the Book of Thoth Saga, Sheffield is the fifth and final point in the Mammon coin pattern — the northernmost, the furthest from the county boundary, the one that crosses into a different administrative territory entirely. That the pattern extends beyond Derbyshire's border is, on one reading, a statement about the scale of what is operating. It does not stop at the county line. It was never going to.