that spanned the river was the most prominent of these. Further along were the various shops and markets, the main centre of attention with the hustle and bustle of most of the vast population and also where the more 'mundane' things happened, such as tailoring, smithing, alchemy and various other services. The residential areas were also a mix. Many simple houses, inns and taverns littered the streets, and the houses of the rich and powerful, separated from the outside world by high fences and rather vicious creatures on tethers were usually built atop natural hills in the landscape.
Around the outskirts of all of these was the area called the Reparts, areas where the arms of the law didn't reach and places where the sun never shone. These were supposed the be where most of the city was trying to expand it's borders, dealing with the vast housing shortages and general lack of space, but instead were filled with shambling buildings, rickety houses and run down stores of all sorts.
Those who hadn't moved out for fear of their life or property were usually tough or brutal enough to survive, smart enough to know how and when to stay out of the way for the former, picking on those weaker than them, and those fast enough to outrun the previous two.
In an abandoned house in the shadows, was a small group of all three.
"Best catch of the day yet", said the first. He was kneeling down, rummaging through the contents of the crates around him. The room was quite large, but looked like a wreck, crates littering the floor. There was charred wood all around and the carpet in the middle of the floor had many holes with burnt patches here and there. All the windows had been boarded up, save for a very dusty and dirty one that let in a vague brownish light. Light crept in through various cracks and slits in the blackened wooden walls and illuminated streams of dust floating around. A hint of a very fancy looking chair and the burnt remain of a large piano suggested that if not for a fire, the room would have looked quite nice.
"Some fish, some loaves, a crate of fruit and some... other stuff. Not a bad plan if it got us this much.”
It was a rather gruff voice, and came from a throat which sounded as if it's speaker was talking through a mouthful of gravel. It was muffled slightly, by the helmet still covering his head.
"Well, I hope so", said a higher pitched and clearer voice.
"I was the one who came up with it, remember?"
The speaker was a from a woman standing by the window. She looked fairly young,
Around the outskirts of all of these was the area called the Reparts, areas where the arms of the law didn't reach and places where the sun never shone. These were supposed the be where most of the city was trying to expand it's borders, dealing with the vast housing shortages and general lack of space, but instead were filled with shambling buildings, rickety houses and run down stores of all sorts.
Those who hadn't moved out for fear of their life or property were usually tough or brutal enough to survive, smart enough to know how and when to stay out of the way for the former, picking on those weaker than them, and those fast enough to outrun the previous two.
In an abandoned house in the shadows, was a small group of all three.
"Best catch of the day yet", said the first. He was kneeling down, rummaging through the contents of the crates around him. The room was quite large, but looked like a wreck, crates littering the floor. There was charred wood all around and the carpet in the middle of the floor had many holes with burnt patches here and there. All the windows had been boarded up, save for a very dusty and dirty one that let in a vague brownish light. Light crept in through various cracks and slits in the blackened wooden walls and illuminated streams of dust floating around. A hint of a very fancy looking chair and the burnt remain of a large piano suggested that if not for a fire, the room would have looked quite nice.
"Some fish, some loaves, a crate of fruit and some... other stuff. Not a bad plan if it got us this much.”
It was a rather gruff voice, and came from a throat which sounded as if it's speaker was talking through a mouthful of gravel. It was muffled slightly, by the helmet still covering his head.
"Well, I hope so", said a higher pitched and clearer voice.
"I was the one who came up with it, remember?"
The speaker was a from a woman standing by the window. She looked fairly young,
