The summer sun shone uppon the sand filled market. A fading rock path showing the ways between the various shacks. In it's center three large barracks were guarded by a variety of humongous beasts. It's contents hidden inside it's frail woden walls. At the east, one could see a variety of merchants selling their so called goods at the street. Crystals, armors, weapons, books, tomes, jewelry. It all looked as shady as their merchants, who would loudly announce their offers.
    
   The one thing that could match the diversity of the goods being sold in those two areas were it's crowd. From Flumphs to Gnolls to Trolls to Goblins. Every race was there, poluting the streets with it's foul body odors. Walking amongst that mass, one could feel the heat of their bodies. The combination of the odor, heat and the sheer number of people were enough to create a suffocating feeling, making anyone who dared to stay in there for too long desperate for fresh air.

   A sinuous sand path led to the west. The fading rock road that paved the center and east side of the market now gone. That place was home for the city militia. A group of outlaws that would regularly raid human lands in search of treasures, power or just for fun. They had no fortifications in their base other than the ridiculously high amount of decaying shacks that were built around it. Not only the shacks would avoid any formation to reach the base, it's inhabitants would be less than happy to be disturbed. If one managed to reach through the decaying buildings, it would find about a dozen stone buildings. 

   Up in the north, the three main service providers of the city could be found. Sitting at the middle it was the famous brothel of the city, commonly called Sword Sheatery. It had an older name, long forgotten due to the rude humor of the inhabitants of the city. It was rummored that one could lay with any imaginable beast inside those walls, provided they had the coin. At it's west, an extremely tall building, made from a shinny black stone and polished brown wood stood. It was the famous Torn Ale Tavern. Nobody really knew the reason of the name, but the general belief was that the actual owner, a huge Gnoll named Sven, ripped the old goblin owner, Alessandra, in two with his bare hands. Judging by it's appearance and temperament, it was not a far fetched theory. To the east, the Red Mug. A small inn where the rare visitors to the city would stay. It's red walls the only thing worth of a mention.

   Following a rocky road, one would find the Rich District. The name was given by the populace of the shacks on the west. Indeed, the ones living in those stone buildings were, in it's vast majority, filthy rich or powerful. Mages, slave traders, the owner of the brothel, and a few of the merchants made up the majority of it's population. Distinct among the others, two buildings deserved special attention: Yashar's Tower and Brut's Palace. The tower was know as the tallest building in the city, home of the famous Yashar. The descriptions given by the very few who ever saw it's interior were vastly diverse, leading the populace to belive that it was buil on magic, not stone. The palace had simpler origins: Brut, it's owner was a raider, who in less than a year gathered more gold and power than any person could hope to amass in ten lives. The means to realize such a feat are a mistery. The general consensus in the city is that he made a demonic pact for it. Wheter it's true or not, this is the only rummor he didn't blatantly denied.

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[url=https://s31.postimg.org/r7twpoj57/city_map.jpg]Seriously, this is a piece of art.[/url]
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