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[h2][color=gray]Cullwath, 3rd Largest Town In Naveroth.[/color][/h2]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_EDH0GcN_w][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/fairytailfanon/images/7/78/134057016674.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150721035118[/img][/url]
[color=gray][i](Click the image for theme music)[/i][/color]

Cullwath was one of the more inhabited towns of the Naveroth Province, but that didn't make it anymore pleasant. Under the looming shadows of the tall houses and inns there were cold and indifferent stone pavements, a large traffic network of rats and creatures that looked like rats from a distance in the dark. And of course the dull glow of Gothic streetlamps, interrupting the fog of darkness with splashes of sickly yellow spotlights.

The people of Cullwath matched the atmosphere, suicidal looking peasants, who's main option in life is whether they and their family will starve to death or freeze to death. Large human men in black and grey armor, with the insignia of the 'Black Beak'. They were a private milita hired by the wealthy of the city to essentially act as makeshift muscle for criminal mobs, and occasionally low-end hitmen for petty disputes. They were numerous but also fairly unskilled and damn near always drunk. There were also rambling folk in dark hoods who were assumed to be either practitioners of dark magic or just addicted to chaos dust.

Lastly there were the merchants, the only people who ever seemed to smile in town, cold hollow serpent smiles to peddle their wares. Some sold regular goods, but there was a trend of travelling 'miracle merchants' who would attempt to sell their tonics to the desperate before leaving town as quickly as possible, sometimes they would get away with it, sometimes they would be caught, and it was never pretty when they were.

In a cramped in near the center of the city a young doctor had just finished stitching the wound of a local hunter, he paid the doctor 20 gold pieces for his service and thanked him for the speedy job. The doctor was actually fairly broke. Now with only 45 pieces to his name, not including the 3 he would have to pay to stay at the Mousetrap Inn for another night. It was the only inn where he could find regular work without being harassed by thugs, but he still had to encounter the odd Black Beak Mercenary who weren't much better.

His name was Pox and he had no idea how he ended up in Naveroth or this town of Cullwath specifically, but there seemed to be more work here than anywhere else. Just as he was packing up his medical equipment the Innkeeper called out to him from the other-side of the door.

[i]Hey Doc, just heard about another job, apparently some mercs just survived a bandit ambush up the road, they say the area is clear but wanted a doc to patch up their commander, apparently he got the worst of it. Pay is 50 pieces but you have to leave right away.[/i]

It was one of those urgent 'inn requests' where a carrier bird would deliver a job that was open to freelancers, the pay was usually decent, but details would always be thin, making it that much more dangerous. Pox sat in thought for a few moments before he heard some shouting outside the inn, it seemed to be the hunter he just finished stitching in some sort of dispute. Looks like there were some choices as to what to do next.

[@ShwiggityShwah]

[i][b]-Accept the inn request and make for the east road.[/b][/i]

[i][b]-Decline the inn request and go outside to investigate the commotion.[/b][/i]

[i][b]-Decline both, call it a night and get some sleep.[/b][/i]




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