Post by Sire Halfblack on Aug 4, 2014 19:14:45 GMT
Octuar IM 1002
Daylight slanted across the rooftops of the city of Deci. So close to winter the skies were heavy with the dense clouds that began in the north of the Empire, growing ever yet more conjoined the further north one cared to journey. The light that fell upon the slates came in clutches, thick bands that took what gaps in the grey heavens above to cluster together and fall upon the world below. There was a sense of snow in the air for the early falls had come and gone and the atmosphere stood pregnant with the promise of the denser winter to come.
There was little regularity to be found in the shape or form of the rooftops. Deci had never been renowned in its history for any sort of unified civic planning and skinny, three story houses from two centuries before would often find themselves crowded by the more squat dwellings that had come in more recent years. Planks that had been lain across the divergent and slanting heights had, over time, been reinforced until they seemed more like bridges and there were sufficient people living in the heights to add their own small fires to those that curled from the crumbling chimneys of the settlement. The streets took seemingly random turns as their shape evolved over the years, following the nature and events of Deci like a river followed and then carved the countryside seemingly at its will. Naturally, even in the failing light of the day, it was dark on ground level. Many streets were cobbled but this was a recent improvement and in places the small stones themselves rose and fell as they settled upon older, more established pathways. From the streets, the capillaries of the city stretched away from the dirty facades of the buildings, weaving in the form of alleyways away from the main thoroughfares to pass tanneries, butchers yards and half empty warehouses. Here the poorer folk lived as best they could for their more traditional homes in Cheapside had become too dangerous for many in the wake of the sullen gangwar that seemed more rumoured than visible. Clustered about the Governor’s Citadel, the more well to do houses could be found.
A certain type of Nobleman lived in Deci, socialising with the merchants that still held property here out of some misplaced memory of their earlier, more ragged routes. Brightly Square, Roving Street and Gimbling Way all were lit by lanterns that were tended by paid linkmen and seemingly not trustful of the Watch, the rich had recently hired their own guards to tour the streets they owned, mercenaries of good reputation who worked for the hard grull. Over the last year or more, those tribesmen who had fled the north had come to settle primarily in the southern quarter. They had worked hard to do the ordinary tasks that few in the city cared to perform, clearing the streets, working in the curing pits and so forth. They had pooled their money and most had been able to gain some sort of residence for the winter. Those who had not done so well were often taken in by those who had for there had been a number of beatings of late. Some of the locals, hearing about the raiders of the Far North, had decided to focus their fear on the more recent arrivals to their settlement. The tribals though had taken it all with surprising aplomb, rarely fighting back or seeking city justice. The cattle pens were full for the winter and knowing the likely opinion of the Governor, the herders had sold the beasts onto the butchers and tanners at reasonable rates. They knew that if the middle men did not continue the good will then Jander would have stern words. And few welcomed such attention from the Sunstar.
The Jagged shivered despite himself. He was as much a child of the city now as those reared to its darkened teat, but the cold seeped into his soul and his concentration for the previous two weeks had ground his wits down to the point where only experience and instinct guided him now. He was powerful was the Jagged but he had adopted a healthy respect for his prey. They were not, it was true, exactly as worldly given as himself but there was a unified talent amongst them. Individually most of them were common Cheapside rabble thugs with a year or so of hard fighting under their belts but only against other, likeminded, talent. It was true that three of them were better and had plainly spent time in the outside world but even they would not have competed with the Jagged on equal terms. But, the creature sensed, they were not many, they were one. They worked together like a single animal. The leadership of the inner core seemed to reflect against the greater mass and even the Jagged had not the slightest intention on taking them on when they were so unified.
Two days ago he had been forced to pause for an hour whilst one of them, the big man called Kremdon, had stared at the guttering against which Jagged had lain. He knew that there was nothing the man could do to perceive him and yet… yet he had remained watching the darkened eve for the hour before moving off. There was a lot of raw skill here and the Inn they held, the Taken Regard, had no patrons other than the Straw Dogs themselves. Jagged had moved close on two occasions and seen how solid the walls were. He had passed his hand through the rotten outer surface to find newer stone within. He had seen how not a one of them approached across the roofs and this had been enough to keep him away himself. It was not that he feared any harm but rather… rather he felt that somehow his presence would be noticed. Thy lived in the tavern and Jagged had noticed how, in the midst of what everyone knew was a gangwar, little violence seemed to take place! Groups of the ‘Dogs would sometimes venture forth but the rival gangs now only slunk away. But now, another had come to join them.
By Alan Morgan (CI4V11)