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[b]//A14 - Slaughterhouse No. 4[/b]
[b]“Ay, those gauntlets, yeah?”[/b]

The dwarven woman nodded. From her perspective, they looked more like toys than anything else, but that was fine with her. Slaughterhouse No. 4 was an establishment known more for their larger-scale events, from frenzied battle royales to organized team fights. Some adventurers found their party here; others were scouted out for work as guards of the wealthy. It was important then, to both put on a good show, as well as to ensure that no crippling injuries were received during the show.

Better a pair of gauntlets than a proper-sharp sword.

[b]“Pay depends on placement, but we can talk ‘bout that later.”[/b] She peeked her head out towards the courtyard, more looking towards the light rather than towards those still training there. [b]“I’ll run you through rules n all first, introduce you to the rest of the folks here.”[/b]

And with that, she began to lead Frederika off to see the rest of the Slaughterhouse, allowing Almagest to do whatever the old man wished to do. 

[sub][@Izurich][/sub]
[hr][b]//O7 - Outskirts of Oratorio[/b]
A strange sort. Pilgrims to the Frontier City, and yet so willing to walk the way they came.

It was no skin off the back of the workers though. The older one shrugged and flicked the reins once more, while the younger one took that as his signal to get back to work. With a snorting of its nostrils, the draft horse pulled its load once more, wheels grinding against the packed dirt of the main road.

[b]“Gravedigger, are you? Not much work for your sort here,”[/b] the wagoner spoke. [b]“We return ‘em to nature here. ‘least for the sorts that end up nowhere.”[/b]

The wagon creaked as another body was slung atop the pile. Nothing more than another anonymous figure, to join the others who couldn't make it in Oratorio.
[sub][@Thayr][/sub]
[hr][b]//O3 - The Underpass[/b]
It was a tidal wave.

Where else, after all, were those most destitute concentrated? Where else were the hopeful and the hopeless forced to mingle? Where else could injustice and unkindness be found in plain sight? She had some sense of the crush of humanity within the Outer Layer itself, but here, within the Underpass, the sheer fluctuation of masses, the sheer unrelenting stench, the sounds of movement and chatter and begging and suffering, it all [i]fused[/i] into a seething, miserable beast, begging for escape.
Some cried out with hoarse throats. Others spoke of brighter topics with forced ignorance. Merchants cursed the rabble, cursed their own inability to travel and trade in the Royal Road. Adventurers focused on what was at hand, striding with intention to a place that would keep them out of a place like this. Workers scrambled by, unwilling to be stalled by any feeling of pity towards lesser creatures. And then was that constant, constant dripping and splattering, the sewage of the district [i]above[/i] falling and settling down to those below.

Elys was [i]truly[/i] blind here, and her other senses offered little assistance either. Only her staff offered her guidance through the most helpless of humanity distilled into these parts, as the city grounded their will to live into dust.

Would she do anything other than leave, following the flow of the unfeeling mass? Perhaps swearing an oath to be fulfilled in the far future, when most of those present now would be dead?

In absence of many of her other senses, what did her sense of justice offer?
[sub][@Estylwen][/sub]
[hr][b]//A5 - Market Plaza[/b]
When it came to crates, Sebi honestly didn’t even have to buy it if she didn’t want to. There were plenty of open crates lying around that she could probably pluck right off the streets, their owners having abandoned them. Of course, if she wanted quality, hand-crafted, tailor-made crates, there were merchants selling them as well, undoubtedly for adventurers who sought to carry more delicate objects with them into the Abyss…but chances were nil that she could afford any of those without turning on the Kitsune charm to the maximum.

More interesting than the procurement of the boxes though, was the chatter of the people around her as her fox ears swivelled left and right, catching snatches of conversation. There were rumors about faulty potions in the market, which caused the ends of more than just a couple parties on the Second Layer, tales of a new adventuring party who had broken into the third layer, as well as news that the Diamond Knight would be returning soon from the Fifth Layer, which would undoubtedly mean yet another lucrative auction would be at hand. Less serious conversation talked of how Hawkeye Longjohn’s group imploded into a civil war over his clandestine courting of both the barbarian and the battle-mage, which ended up with half a tavern full of people injured in the resulting scuffle. Intermingling with that was talk of a mysterious stealer of boots who’ve been performing this most strange heist in the brothels up north. None of the missing boots had shown up on the markets later, however, leading to discussions of a collection of them somewhere.

But where?

Before Sebi could delve into that particular rabbit-hole, however, she heard a voice call out behind her, through the crowd.

[b]“Ah, miss, excuse me!”[/b]

Could it be?

Of course she would turn, and of course, she would see a young foxboy, a childish blush coloring his cheeks as he looked up at her. He must have been no more than a teenager, but his clothes, hardy and practical with plenty of pockets, made him out to be an adventurer as well. A fighter, by the sword and shield slung over his shoulder.

[b]“Um, you two are both mages, right? If you don’t have another party or anything, um…could you join ours?”[/b] His green eyes flickered with a puppy-like desire. [b]“Please? It just needs to be once, if you don’t like it!”[/b]

Further off, the rest of this foxboy’s party waved, a blue-skinned troll with a wild, red beard and a human woman bearing a pack twice her size. Certainly, it looked like they were lacking when it came to true mages, but at the same time, there certainly wouldn’t be any benefit to becoming adventurers out-of-the-blue, no?

…

But there was no doubt too, that if Sebi’s latest ploy didn’t work, neither her nor her daughter would be able to afford to stay even in the cheapest, most squalid inn in the Adventurer’s District. And there was no way two beautiful, well-dressed kitsune would be safe once the sun sets in the Outer Layer.
[sub][@Asuras][/sub]
[hr][b]//A7 - Ordo Benevolence[/b]
[b]“Suggestions?”[/b]

Laina clicked her tongue.

[b]“The Head Priest’s right, for one.”[/b]

Her gaze settled onto Cantor’s a beat later.

[b]“But for two, nothing’s gonna change if we keep going like this. I heard you could kill the monsters on the First Layer with nothing more than a big rock.”[/b] She tried to calculate the costs, but apparently didn’t have a head for numbers. [b]“And if you reduce your costs to nothing, you can make a lot more in one day than you would in three days out in Oratorio.”[/b]

Laina folded her arms, leaning back against a wooden pillar that seemed to give, just slightly against her small frame.

[b]“You killed any monsters before, Brother Cantor?”[/b]
[sub][@Shovel][/sub]
[hr][b]//O4 - Exploring[/b]
The area around Camille’s atelier was, as the two elves would find out, surprisingly well-kept. It seemed that immediate adjacency to the Royal Road caused some degree of civility to be present in these parts of the streets, and even the smell wasn’t nearly so bad. And the area surrounding the subterranean tunnels that lead one from the Outer Layer to the Adventurer’s District were commercial centers all on their own. Plenty of street vendors were present, selling trinkets ‘blessed’ with fortune or simply wraps that contained mysterious meat, the sorts of stuff that one [i]could[/i] get at the Adventurer’s District, but could get for cheaper in the Outer Layer. Where there was a guaranteed concentration of people, it simply made sense to set up stalls here.

And there too, was profit to be made from the stall owners themselves.

Firenze and Meisa would both notice that a curious ornament, a wooden plaque with a symbol painted upon it, hung from each of the wagon-sized carts that carried their owners’ wares. A strange decoration. Perhaps the symbol of a fledging guild?

Perhaps.

But the more likely purpose was proven when they saw five thugs upend an undecorated cart in broad daylight, scattering the bundles of dried herbs within.

A racketeering operation, undoubtedly.

[b]“Oi!”[/b] The leader amongst them growled, glaring at the bookish woman before him. [b]“First time’s free, but second time’s personal, bitch. Ya had plenty of time ta pay up, didn’t you? Asking to be taught a lesson now?”[/b]

The guards of the Royal Road, of course, didn’t move to act.

The adventurers and merchants passing by didn’t move to act either.

Why would they? An operation like this clearly implied a larger gang behind it, with more trouble to come in the future for such little reward.

[b]“Hold her down!”[/b] Two of the other thugs grabbed the herb-gatherer and slammed her against her up-ended cart. She struggled against their grip, but two-on-one were bad odds when unarmed, and there were two more who were just there to watch as her arms were extended outwards.

The rasping of steel sounded, a short sword drawn.

[b]“Pick a hand. Or I’ll take both.”[/b]

Camille’s civility was truly extraordinary. What was happening right now was a much more common thing in the city. Violence, wielded for money and power, as the helpless grieved through gritted teeth.

Would Meisa act?

And if she did, would she even act in [i]defense[/i] of the victim here, when there was opportunity to join in on the feeding frenzy instead?
[sub][@Click This][/sub]
[hr][b]//A7 - On the Streets[/b]
It turns out that, despite being a fraud, Ananta knew enough about the adventurer life to at least ingratiate herself with other adventurers, and all without paying a single coin to do so. She had seen plenty of different adventurers before, after all, and most of them fell into simple enough types that she knew how to avoid the boastful gloryhounds or the near-criminal lunatics on her way to gathering information. A couple of more veteran adventurers traded some tips with her in exchange for news regarding who was still kicking in Kamal, while a quick look through the markets confirmed what looked in demand and what was being sold off for cheap.

Most importantly, however, was the fact that things were [i]dire[/i] in the First Layer of the Abyss. It made sense, of course, but still, Ananta was absolutely chilled by the fact that the best possible result of adventuring in the First Layer, at least if one stayed only one day, was to break-even on the amount of supplies that would have to be used to stay safe on that First Layer.

Indeed, everything that she had gathered for her travel to Oratorio would only last her a single day and would only be enough to give her ‘experience’, rather than ‘profit’. In order to make money, she’d have to go in with the intention of sparing her supplies and gear as much as possible, risking injury and death in the process. Meanwhile, the influx of cheap labour available in Oratorio in the form of newbie adventurers who have to make ends meet meant that the above-ground jobs she could gain access to wouldn’t even pay enough to purchase three packets of rations after a full day.

There, of course, was the possibility of working as a porter for another party as well, of simply being the person who bore the weight of the entire party’s supplies and loot, but compared to the types that seemed to be advertising their abilities in that particular industry, Ananta was diminutive.

Could she pose as a deadshot or something then, temporarily join a party as an experienced archer, utilizing the weapon of a dying woman as a marketing device?

Or could she use that weapon, to rob a merchant or two at nightfall, and trust that the lack of proper law enforcement in Oratorio would mean that no one would chase after her?

Adventurers had to be flexible, certainly. How flexible were her morals?
[sub][@Kero][/sub]
[hr][b]//A12 - The Rooster and Ridge[/b]
There was more chewing, the sorta hard-boiled chewing of tobacco that only the most grizzled adventurers would do. With a practiced motion, the lone ranger flicked his hat up, just enough that his steely gaze arrested Voi right where he stood.

[b]"Don't normally do jobs for fresh-faced kiddos,"[/b] he spoke, his tone like gargling gravel, [b]"But you look like you've got the coin to afford it. What's the deal here, pretty boy?"[/b]
[sub][@Theyra][/sub]