Laying The Shanks on The Table - Just Outside The Freetrade District [Open/Mod]

[Jhagor Spinerippa]

TS: End of Fall; Late Junctior

Like a midnight wind he came crashing, rushing on hot heels, cutting through the crowd as silent as a scythe through wheat. Ox shoulders muscled the crowds, hunched as quasi, tusks barred, eyes wide and visceral. The signs were there. The omens pointed to one of those cause and effect moments. Talent and skill weren't there, neither was there discipline and concentration. Black knuckles went grey around the concealed pig skinner handle, hungry as a worg's fanged maw; serrated kiss and a gut-catchers curve. Lips whet, cold eyes on the prowl, flared nostrils catching at that wind, sniffing out the weakness in the air. Limp prey on the run. There was nothing special about the day. He woke up in a lawless state, hungry and wanting, fixing on a need to feed something that had no seed to satiate. Drawn to that exchange of wealth and the anonymous way people disappear around Orckon, he went straight for the market fringe. He watched the traders coming in and out, casing the locale for ambush points. No military schools in Ire; life graduates you or puts you in a closed coffin. Merchants dangling on the edge. He grinned something sick and rolled those massive shoulders, cracking a symphony up that stone-walled back. Chest pushed out like he was ready to die. Even when the peddlers hounded for a deal they often forgot nothing was for free.

Cloak drawn tight, swathed in a bustle of bystanders, he kept a close watch on the perfect place to set up shop-- one of those blind spots on the lip of a dark alley-- where a beast can eye his product.

[Gauls]

The city of Orckon is divided into two halves, the upper city and lower city, by a stone wall that is about 10 feet high. It is not as impressive as the outer walls defending the city but it is capped with ramparts and a walk way for the guards to traverse the entire length of the city from East to West. From this wall, the city can be defended from the inside should any outer wall be breeched. There are only two gates through this “sub-wall” one is on the east side of the Great Hall Enclosure, and the other is located on the west side of the city. A North-South road runs through the west gate and just past the gate, this road is intersected by a large East-West road that runs the entire length of the city as well on the sub-wall’s north side. As one can imagine, this crossroad is very busy with traders, merchants, citizens, and visitors in the city all trying to squeeze through these gateways. This is a blessing to the security forces of Orckon as they can see more by monitoring these gates but it is a headache for others (especially those trying to avoid authority). Naturally, the west gate area has grown to be a major trading point in the city due to the large concentration of perspective customers and wagons using the road that goes through the sub-wall. The clearing and crossroad beyond the west gate in the upper city has been officially dubbed the “Trade District” by the government and is where all trade is imported and exported, bartered, and sold. Orckon has few raw materials and so trade is a major business in the city to keep things going smoothly.

There is one major trade guild in the city (The Shatroful Onreinn) but there are small struggling merchants that are trying their best to form guilds themselves. The government has set up a complete tax office here to collect the taxes due on all trade straight from the trader’s purse. The government has deployed the Fos Rog (one of the revered orc clans of the city) for this purpose of tax collecting. Nobody would deny a Fos Rog or question their authority as it is against the law and punishable by death in the Angry Pit. The Fos Rog are easily spotted by their bare torsos crossed with a red sash. The more menacing Pardahun Votar orcs in their dark colored armor roam every venue of the district and thus gives a great sense of security while in the district but crime is still inevitable.

During the spring and summer, the suns are beating down on you and during the fall and winter, it can get quite cold and wet as there are no trees in sight and only small shrubs and stumps of once great trees remain. The ground is strewn with stone and dirt. The large forges at the north end of the city cast a large haze over much of the upper city and here in the trade district, it is no different. Most of the dark elves stay in the upper city, not because they like the dirty air, but because the haze does give some respite during the mid-day from the suns of Aelryia.

The atmosphere in the trade district is full of suspicion and dread. Dread comes from the prospect that you could be robbed by the many goblins and dark elf squatters leaning up against the shop walls watching you or the fact that these traders are very cunning and can easily take advantage of you if you don’t know what you are doing. The Pardahun eye any new comers very suspiciously and are just waiting for you to screw up so they can have a reason to stop you.

The streets are lined on all sides by shops, stalls, tents, tarps, and sometimes just a cart or table where the merchants yell out to you advertising their wares. It is a cut throat business and every vendor is vying for your business. In the district, what you own gives you status. Status in Orckon is more important than coin or jewels. The Imperial Crown (called “shara coin” in Orckon) is nearly useless and the preferred method of payment is trade. Items you think isn’t worth much could get you a lot more than any amount of coins. The more items you own, the greater your status. Be warned… the more you own, the more you need to be able to defend it.

It was just like every other day in the Trade District, a hot, sweaty, and dangerous mingling of the predators and prey. It didn't matter if you were the sly merchant trying to make a killing on some poor unsuspecting, or one of the presumably innoncent squatters that would slit your throat given the chance just to get those nice pair of boots you might be sporting the business of the day was to survive.

The smog from the great forges in the upper city hung over the district as the winds blew down from the mountain range nearby. Throgs of bodies were passing into the district from the west inner-gate funneling them into a large bottle neck on the north side of the wall just inside the district. The east-west road leading into the district on the eastern side was just as busy but not as crowded as one would expect as many traders don't go eastward into the city. They just hurry to do their business and then head back south to the main gate and rightly so.

Some however like Jhagor were trying to find their place in this havoc. Some like him were successful, some not. The question was which would Jhagor be? If he didn't do what had to be done to survive, he'd be dead surely. If he is caught, he'd be just as dead also. It all seemed a perfect balance either way so why not go for it.

The district had no permanent structures as one would find in a shara city except those of the Fos Rog tax office at the north side of the district and the trade guild building of the Shatroful Onreinn on the west side. These were the only two stone facilities in the district. The rest of the shops, stalls, etc. were tents or propped up wood boards, tin, or cloth/skins with thatch roofs or a mud-grass mixture. No structure was over one story tall (for fear of collapse). Some merchants had only a table or cart from which to run their business.

Space was a premium in the city as far as establishing a plot for a structure thus all of the merchant structures were constructed very close together. This made a labrynth of alleys and pathways that squeezed between them. The smart buyers stuck to the main crossroads but some ventured further to the outskirts of the main intersection to find those "unique" items that merchants tended to sell in more shady stalls on the perimeter of the district. These merchants didn't want to advertise that they had something worth too much for fear of drawing unwanted attention from either the Pardahun, Fos Rog tax men, or every goblin thief in the city. Regardless, they had these items and buyers were willing to hazard these more dangerous corners of the district in order to get them. This was really what Jhagor was looking for.

In these darker areas, people had a tendancy to turn a blind eye to what went on here. They didn't want to be implicated in whatever comes from a deal gone bad. The Pardahun stuck to the gates and central crossroads of the distict so whatever happens here, in the corners of the district, there will be nobody to "hear" you scream.