Beyond the docks, on either side, are the massive markets where fish are imported to the city from the countless fishing boats that went out constantly. Those were bastions of commerce on the docks along the water as well, that catered to the fishermen and countless small trading wharfs. Though fairly lawless, there was still money there.

Beyond that however, was a no mands land where the soil was too sandy and rocky to do anything with. That area was run down, filled with myriad shacks made of driftwood and piled stone, the only real virtue of the place was that it was cheap. Without the strong influx of resources of the sea or the vast plains beyond, there was no real reason for people to be here other than the fact the land was cheap.

There were some places here: cheap warehouses filled with questionable goods, some rotted, others flagrantly illegal or stolen: a myriad of pleasure houses, and a brugeoning industry of chandlers and salvage men. However, there were far more people than jobs here.

Some have banded into gangs of youth. Eventually they will die, be thrown in prison, or perhaps join one of the pirate crews. Others have no talent for sea life and simply veg. More than a few ex sailers due to disability beg here. Ironically, many could return to work with a clockwork prosthesis, but their lives simply are not worth the money that would take.

Here, jobs were rare, and life was cheap.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:33, Fri 02 Nov 2018.

Instructing Kanua to stay back with the group, Plaga decided to take a stroll to the more dangerous part of the city, going beyond the markets. She felt more at home among bandits and outcasts, since she had been among them practically her whole life. Before studying necromancy, she had intended to help them. Afterwards, she added "control" to her intentions. The lowest circle of the social jerarchy was often ignored, but Plaga could see the potential hiding inside. You can't afford morals when you can't afford a place to sleep. And you can't think properly when you have an empty stomach, or are lacking the nutrients to do so. Her servants had never been given a chance before, and after some rough kindness, they learned to respect her and one another. But all that had been taken from her. Lady Malusvir was her only lead, but patience was required. Her priority was to start rebuilding her organization.

You walk the shanty towns, standing out against the squalor. The lame, crippled and ill beg as you walk past. You see many starving or quite ill, and countless beggers.

The illicit markets of this city are unfamilar to, but they are not well hidden here, in this weeping sore of poverty, and you quickly find a variety of criminal enterprises.

Naturally, there are the press gangs, who take young men and women to ships and press them into involuntary service as slaves. Around here, some of them even come volentarily, though you wonder what is the point of recruiting some of these wretches due to their ill health. They were spectacularly unpopular, and did not advertise or appear in the day, but their activites were whispered of.

There is, of course, a thriving market of "salvaged" and "used" goods from ships, wreckage and (lets face it) stolen goods available in a variety of stores, from semi-decent pawn shops a semi-respectable merchant might visit, to hasily bundled silverware sold out of a blanket.This seemed to be the place where non-top end items were being fenced.

And of course, there are drugs. Sargasso red seaweed, processed into a smokable herb like tobacco (only the stench was far worse), was technically illegal due to the fishy stink but was commonly smoked downwind. Flashpowder form the howler lands was snorted, and of course, milk of the poppy was readily available from the northern fields for those who had the money.

There were beurocratic related criminal enterprises which didn't quite interest Plaga quite so much, dealing in forged documents, papers and permits to deal with the cities guilds and families. That really was more of a theives guild thing, and those involved looked quite connected.

Most of these operations were allowed to operate with a degree of independence, provided they paid a cut to the thieves guild - there didn't seem to be an overarching criminal organization running all this. However, there were a few gangs.

The two most interesting to Plaga were the cutters - the small gangs of roving youths who had banded together for mutual protection. They were poor, violent, and ran light protection rackets on the merchants who were too poor to hire competent guards. They were less an organized criminal enterprise and more of a street gang. You might be willing to work with them.

There was also an old abandoned church that had been taken over by "lay monks" called the order of the Saintly. The monks had declared themselves a non-affiliated holy order but were not officially priests of the one, and offered a wide range of criminal services and protection for nearby buildings.

Finally, there were the shellbacks, a group of theives smugglers who took messages across the ocean in small boats at night. This also allowed them to access boats and pier warehouses, or for particularly enterprising ones to raid foreign ships directly. They had their own useful criminal niche.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:09, Tue 06 Nov 2018.

Building her organization took her a long time the first time, but now she counted with experience and her new skills. It was best for her to approach the local gangs. It should be easy enough to get rid of the leader of one of this gangs, and after that it was such a matter of time before she started absorbing the other gangs. This would be the first step towards rebuilding her former glory.
Having heard about the cutters, Plaga decided this was a good place to start. Being on her own, since Kanua was left behind, she had no choice but to wander the streets looking for members of the gang. And it just happened that she had excellent eye sight.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:46, Tue 06 Nov 2018.

The younger cutters are hard to spot amongst the crowd, working as cutpurses and spies when they are not begging. The older ones are all too easy to spot, groups of 4-5 lanky youths known for carrying small bladed weapons.

You are not harmed, possibly because you are a doctor, possibly because you look odd, possibly because of some innate sense that messing with you would be a very bad idea.

It didn't take long to spot one of their hangouts- a large disheveled tent behind an actual building marked as a pawnshop, almost large enough to be a house off the main strips of road that winded up landward of the shore.

As you made your way, a few not so hiddencs outs related a signal, and a  couple youths came out to challenge Plaga, dressed in girded robes and their hands casually tucked away to weapons.

They didn't immediately attack though. This was one lone woman, not a turf attack of a cop. Something weirder, which made them cautious.

"Cutter turf. Turn around unless you got business with us. And if you do, well, here we are."

Some of the scouts circled round, not quite blocking Plaga's escape, but ready to assist if a fight broke out.

"I may have, actually. Would you be so kind as to tell me why I should talk about anything with you in particular? Are you the leader around here? Or a goon full of himself who things that being part of a street gang makes him somewhat important? If it's the latter, just save both of our times and take me to the head. Or we could do it my way, and I'll make sure to get the boss' attention. And, oh, you won't like my way".
This message was last edited by the player at 17:11, Thu 08 Nov 2018.

He stood for a few moments in surprise, but recovered quickly. The others seemed to be supporting him by body language.

"I'm in charge as much as anyone else. I'm also a goon with a knife. Screw with one of the cutters, and you get slit, no matter how "unimportant" you think any of us are."

He looked her over again. No way was she a guard. No fear either. Guild rep? Seemed unlikely, they were paid up. Better dial it back now that they'd shown their teeth. If she worked for someone serious, picking a fight would be disastrous.

He backed away and gestured.. the other cutters backed off a bit, and he

"So, like I was asking: what do you need from the cutters? Maybe I can make it happen."

"Oh? You have no leader? That does surprise me. It is rare to find a gang that functions with no organization. Since you are in charge as much as anyone else, perhaps you can enlighten me. I'm new in town, and I'm searching for willing men to join my enterprise. I heard rumors about the cutters, but aside from how much of a scum you are and how I must keep away, I haven't heard much about how you do things. Really, no leader... You must be terribly inefficient".

Plaga tosses a small bag towards the Cutter member that had yet to identify himself. If he opens it, he would find silver powder inside. Depending how well he knew drugs, he may identify that as highly refined Silver Petals, a popular drug in Vissian territory, used recreatively.

"That's what I do. Have a taste, I assure you it will be the best one you have ever tried"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Thu 08 Nov 2018.

"We get shit done when we need to. For this bunch, I'm the leader.

I run the protection and headbashers, cause I know how the racket works. Makes sense to have the whores run the whore business, right?

Plaga noticed that the cutters tended young, and pretty poor by gang standards.

He took a cautious look at the powder. Not like he could say no after that challenge. He took a look.

"This.. is this Pearl?" He took a dainty taste of the stuff. His eyes widened almost instantly. It was hard to tell if that was just wrong or a local name.

"Shit. You know what those fat assholes back in the city pay for this?"

Actually, Aran didn't know. He'd never seen the stuff except in minute quantities off victims though, and it was worth real money. He turned to a flunky. "Get Dara. She'll wanna try this."

As one of them runs back to the tent, Aran turns back to her.

"This stuff is a little rich for around here. We mostly smoke Sargasso red. Dara's got a smoke pit set up inside.

Dara comes out a few minutes later, dressed in thick leathers, a couple sizes too big. She's at first upset to be taken away from a delicate process of smoking, but a brief taste of the drug gets her even more excited, and it's not just because of the stimulant effect.

She takes a tiny amount of residue inside to verify it, after dumping a few pails of sand on her current project inside the tent.

Aran nods, and takes a deep breath, gauging his own heartrate. He already was feeling a rush.

"Oh, you definately got my interest now. Dara can spot a fake by looking at it, though she'll test it just to be sure."

"I don't know what rudiment tests she is gonna do, but I'm willing to be my honor that it will be close to perfect purity. And yet, it doesn't kill you on the spot. I'm not exagerating when I say that you have never seen anything like it. But you seem to have got it wrong, Mr Cutter. I care not for what you usually use to get high. That's not how I do bussiness. You will all get high on what I decide you will. Even without the Cutters help, I'll eventually take control of this place. You can join me now, and start our relationship as friends, or ignore my offer and fade out as a small gang. This is your chance to come play with the adults. And if there is something I can assure you..."

Plaga makes a dramatic pause, grinning behind her mask.

"Is that it's gonna be fun".

Aran takes a step back.

" Fuck red, we'll deal in pearl or whatever. Cutters do what they gotta do to survive."

"I was just saying that if you sell this stuff here, at what it's worth, no one will be able to afford it.

You want to undersell and take over, it's your product. You gotta know though, the guild is gonna want a cut.  You play the heavy with them, things get real dicey.

Shit, what do I call you anyway? This is a crazy way to do business." He grinned.

So, how much of this stuff you moving?"