As Shaddar walks through the alleys of the border zone he contemplates the glimpse he had of the streets earlier. The architecture and even stone color were quite different from the border zone. It was white stone, with many fine bas relief carvings set into the walls that he saw there. Nothing like the plain, drab, brown stonework of the border zones. No ornamentation has been done here, and hardly anything resembling landmarks either.
“Will the slums also be designed to a different visual style of their own?” he wonders.
His postulating is intruded upon by reality as he turns a corner and walks to the edge of what can only be the slums.
The area before him is built on a massive scale. The streets are at least 30-feet wide, making the roads more like a continuous marketplace with clusters of buildings evenly spaced throughout it. The buildings do indeed have a different style than the other areas of Big City that Shaddar has seen thus far. It is quite gothic, with spires, spikes, and leering gargoyles on the top of every roof. Iron lampposts run along both sides of the road with a wire basket at the top of each one in the shape of a dragon. He can see that there is a magical flame burning inside each of these wire dragons to light the area. The lamps create flickering and nefarious-looking shadows on the sides of the buildings. The stonework is a gray color for the most part, but some buildings are built using even darker stone. Shaddar notes with amazement that the more ‘wicked’ shops are located in these darker colored buildings.
“Do these people really need such a stark indicator to know that they have arrived at the wrong part of town? Are such blatant visual cues needed by humans?” Shaddar thinks that all of the books he has read about humans must be incorrect – they are much lower in intellect as a race than he believed possible.
The buildings are either low and dark-looking or tall and looming, with many different styles that all seem to harmonize with each other into a common theme. Shaddar does not think that this finely crafted, clean, and well-ordered area deserves to be called a slum. Perhaps this is just a title for the area?
The slums are bustling with activity and populace – quite unlike the almost deserted border zones. There are many people who are dressed in the gaudy finery of those who live in the streets that Shaddar saw earlier. They seem out-of-place here, their bright colors and fine jewels are garish and glaring. Those who live in the slums are equally obvious: dull earth-tone colors, leather pants, squinty eyes, and radical hairstyles. But there are also people dressed completely in black clothes, with capes held in one hand to cover their faces, walking with a hunched over posture, their eyes darting back and forth furtively. “They must be members of the Guild,” Shaddar thinks dryly, “because they look like villains. This place is unbelievable!”
All of the store fronts that face the border zone are shops that cater directly to visitors from the streets. There are several pubs of various levels of quality and roughness, if their names and outer appearance is to be an indicator and Shaddar has quickly come to the conclusion that they must be. There is a dancing hall with uproarious music. An open-air jail where visitors are throwing rotten fruit at the criminals in their squalid cells. As Shaddar watches, one of the ‘criminals’ opens the cell and goes inside a pub, setting out a sign that reads, “On break, be back in a flash!”
On every corner there is some kind of activity. A mugging service that looks like the one Jorin and Bort were running. Street performers of a vulgar nature (madman juggling severed heads and flaming skulls – quite clearly an illusion, since his hands don’t seem to sync up with the movement of the heads). A freak show with a troll in a wicker cage out front. The monster looks nothing like a real troll – it looks like an illusion made by someone who has heard of trolls, but has never seen one. It looks softer and weaker with rounded teeth and claws and a docile look on its face. It growls very unconvincingly at passers by.
Shaddar steps into the throng and samples the thoughts of those around him.
“Is that thing a villain?”
“Whoever thought that would be a good show needs his head examined.”
“Not a bad day’s work. 3 gold and 27 silver.”
“This part of town needs to be burned down. It’s terrible what they do here!”
“Shocking! This is shocking! Ooo! What’s that over there? Horrors!”
“That’s right you street-fool… Gamble your gold right into my purse.”
“Hideous!”
“Who is under that disguise, I wonder? Feenil, perhaps?”
“Disturbing indeed, what men will do for coin.”
Amusing. Shaddar’s tentacles writhe with interest at the utter naivete of these people. Many of the folks from the streets are here for the express purpose of acting shocked and indignant at the openly evil ways of the slums and its denizens. The locals on the other hand are just putting on a show and profiting thereby.
“This town… It is just odd. Why do these people act in this manner? How is it that such things can retain their power to shock the citizens over time? And if there are truly corrupt folk in the Guild of Villains, why do they not take advantage of the simpletons who live in the streets?”
He begins to walk down the road with the throngs of people. Although there are many travelers, they do not congest the street due to the wideness of the road. He takes in more sights, looking for patterns. He is hoping to find one pattern in particular.
There are some sinister-looking fellows with scars and missing teeth who are hawking a fisticuffs match. They promise that the match will be bloody and violent to the horror of those visiting from the streets. Others try to direct people to shops were stolen goods can be purchased for cheap – the best fences in town! Restaurants have signs proclaiming that they specialize in ‘illegal dishes’ and ‘pure gluttony’. Men and women lurk in alcoves with blue caps, whispering that should any want to sample unspeakable vices, they can direct them to the best places.
“There we are,” he thinks with satisfaction, “just what I was looking for.”
Shaddar approaches the nearest fellow in a blue cap. The man looks around and whispers, “Who’s under there? Are you a villain or just in disguise?”
Shaddar puts on an act and whines, “I need your services, but I am a fellow of a… certain persuasion. I have very specific demands that must be met. Can you help me?”
“Of course we can, sir.”
“I’m not so sure. I’ve been to every establishment in town and none can help me! I’m getting desperate!’
The man begins to look a bit less sure of himself. “Your tastes are such that you feel you need to hide who you are with this illusion, sir? And other facilities have turned you away because of your requests?”
“Indeed! And once I tell you what I want, you’ll know why. I want…”
The man’s face screws up in distaste. “No, no, no! I don’t want to hear any more about it then! I just direct people to the establishment, I don’t want to get tainted by any of your unnatural stories.” He shudders visibly while thinking, “I’ve got to get another job – this is too harsh on my delicate sensibilities. I feel sticky just talking to this fellow. Eww.”
With obvious disgust, the man gives Shaddar directions to what he assumes will be a brothel.
The color-coding continues as the house that Shaddar comes to is painted the darkest black, but with a bright blue door. As if to tell every passerby that this building is a most evil facility. Shaking his head, Shaddar enters.
The madam greets him. “Yes, can I help you, sir? Or is it, ma’am?”
Shaddar decides to see if this facility is also just an act and tries to shock the lady in the low-cut gown. “It won’t matter.” She blinks in confusion and concern. “I require your assistance. This is the last brothel in the city that I have tried – all others have turned me away unfulfilled! No one will cater to my specific needs!”
She looks very concerned, “What are your needs, sir?”
“I require… in a very private setting… no less than three lumpys.”
The woman grabs the wall to keep herself upright as she gasps, “Lumpys?” with a shaky and revolted voice. Her face loses its pallor and turns a slight greenish tint.
“Don’t judge me!” Shaddar loudly proclaims. “Can you help me or not? I will pay five times your normal rate.”
“I… I…” the woman’s eyes come back into focus as she calculates the price of such a request, “I’m sure we can come to some sort of accommodation, sir.”
“Good. And there would be a substantial bonus in it for you personally if there is also a palehair present.”
At this the woman holds up one hand and bolts from the room. Shaddar is amazed to hear her heave noisily in the other room.
“Even those who should be desensitized to such things are so easily shocked!” he thinks.
The madam returns with a sheen of perspiration on her upper lip and forehead. She speaks in a voice barely audible, refusing to look into Shaddar’s face. “If you’ll just wait here, I’ll make the arrangements. It may take some time as this is not a normal request.”
It takes 45 minutes before she returns. With the air of one who is not happy with herself she says, “It is arranged. Right this way.”
Shaddar is shown into a room that has three hobgoblins, one of whom is male, and a drow woman. All of them are dressed in shabby clothes and look beaten down, standing in the center of the room. As soon as the door is shut Shaddar locks it and waits for the madam to move out of earshot before he turns to face them again.
The drow speaks, “Sir. We have been instructed to serve you.”
Shaddar moves to a chair and sits. “How would you like to serve me… forever? You could work for me, call me master, and be richly rewarded. And respected! Instead of serving this human filth! They walk all over you!”
“I don’t understand…”
“You are of a greater race! A noble people! How can you suffer such indignities at the hands of your inferiors?”
“I don’t know what you speak of, sir!” says the drow with clear distress in her voice, “We are blessed to live in the city! To have such comforts provided to us by the Lords of the city! Their kindness grants us useful work, food, and shelter when they should ignore us utterly. Because of our transgressions we must serve this establishment, but that is because of our own bad choices.” Shaddar is stunned to see that she really believes this nonsense!
“Know you nothing of your heritage? Your people’s history? You are not a race of servants – but a proud, capable, and fierce people!”
“What?” The drow woman is very upset – on the verge of tears, in fact. She has no idea what Shaddar is talking about. She is flummoxed and is searching in vain for some sort of context for the things he is saying to her.
Shaddar wonders how the drow in this city were so thoroughly enslaved. Were all the adults in a drow city killed and the children raised here in ignorance? What kind of an enemy did he face if they had such means as erasing the full history of the drow race from their children?
He tries a different tack with the hobgoblins. “And you! How would you like to be the new Lords of the city?” One of the hobgoblin women puts her hands over her ears in shock. “Surely you have felt the primal urges that are rooted in your animalistic nature? You can be conquers! Leaders! Rulers! Not cleaners of streets! Look at these weak humans around you – can you tell me that you do not feel that you are destined for more than doing their bidding? Are you not destined for greatness?”
The hobgoblins look like he has slapped them. The male thinks, “The greatness that I hope for is an extra helping of gruel.”
Shaddar is happy to make some kind of progress. “I can work with that.”
He continues. “How would you like to be in a whole room full of gruel? What am I saying? Forget gruel! You could feast on fine foods, fresh fruits, wine, and roasted meat!” The hobgoblin’s eyes all perk up at this idea and their heads begin to nod.
Shaddar turns to the drow and reads her thoughts – she wishes for better clothes. So to her he says: “I can provide you with closets full of fine clothes!”
“I could have a closet? Oh, that would be lovely to have my own little place…”
“No! You could have a closet in your own mansion! There is plenty of finery to be had for ornamentation and clothing! I can provide such things! For all of you.”
After a moment of dreamy longing, the drow shakes her head, “You are saying such mad things, sir! I do not understand how any of it could be true. And your countenance is one of a villain. Are you but tormenting us for your pleasure? Surely it must be so, because what you say makes no sense!”
“It doesn’t have to make sense. You only need to believe and I can make these things happen. I can improve your station this very day!” Shaddar uses his mental powers to suggest to them that they should believe him because of his convincing arguments and powerful resources.
“What do you need us to do so that we can have these great blessings?”
“Speak to your friends, family members, and leaders of what I offering. Bring some of your people to The Jester and Hawk Meadhall.”
“But that’s a person place. We’re not allowed – “
“You will be welcome there for as long as I am! Come! Bring those that you can convince and meet me there tonight! I will give the gifts I have promised at that time to each of you and to those that you bring.”
They are convinced and bow towards him with respect.
“And thus I will begin to build up an army,” Shaddar thinks with glee, “already inside the walls of the city.”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 9 Chapter 11 >
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