Shade was curious to see firsthand the impacts the transition of power had on the Kurn underground. He had not visited Kurn since the power shifted from the Minolord to Warlord Lewd. Of course, the ousting had not stopped at Tantarus. Lewd had eliminated all internal strife by doing away with every other major crimelord and swelling his own ranks with their underlings. He did not execute every member of a competing faction as was often common practice. He simply offered them a new allegiance too rich to refuse. And as Warlord Lewd’s crime syndicate grew so did his power.
The Dark Elf squinted. The sudden strong glow of torchlight illuminated an archway opening up into a large domed chamber. He saw shadowy crowds moving among the subterranean marketplace. The Black Markets, an underground bazaar of illegal trade Kurn had allowed to thrive for hundreds of years for no other reason, but profit. The one place in the entire city that was honest about its own corruption. The assassin stopped at the archway. His glowing yellow eyes scanned the throngs of scum and villainy. He had at long last arrived in the kingdom of his quarry. This would be a visit the Sewer King would never forget…
Shade kept his hood pulled over his head and worked his way through the crowded underground marketplace. His glowing yellow eyes scanned the masses for any hint of danger. Mobs of unruly men mingled among monstrous night mortals that far surpassed the Dark Elven assassin in height, girth and just plain ugliness.
The Black Markets did not have guards in the traditional sense, but thugs from the larger races, who acted more like bouncers than trained soldiers to enforce an unsteady, brittle and barely manageable peace. Bloody scuffles often broke out in the markets. Murders were far too commonplace, but Shade was amazed at the level of order Lewd’s rule had brought to the marketplace.
The first thing that Shade noticed was the notable absence of Minotaur. It seemed even Lewd’s organization was not without its prejudices. It was a strange sight. Thugs of the human races, the Doelms, the Syssrah and the winged dragon-men known as the Drakor worked in conjunction with one another. No longer did they glare at one another from across the divides in brooding ire, suspicion and breathe out murderous threats. Instead of feuding, they communicated with nods and signals to keep a relative order. Shade realized that the interracial coordination of day and night mortals that existed here could be found nowhere else in the world.
The men of the Kurn underground reminded Shade of the same caste he could find in Jile, only rougher, thicker-skinned and of looser morals. The races of men extended beyond Shamites, Braznians, Tulestines, Grulls, Jinto and Doljinns to the sea-faring black-haired Vespuvians, the light brown skinned Derves and even the ash-covered “witch men” called the Wickovan. He also saw half-breeds such as Half-Elves, Dwarmen and Dragols. Dwarves moved among the taller races, the black-bearded Gutter Dwarves mostly, as they had been so named due their poor hygiene and mouths so foul they made sailors wince.
The markets harbored the usual brand of villainy including mercenaries, poachers, smugglers, pickpockets and just plain criminals. Thieves had a heavy presence here, both from the Thieves Guild in the city proper and several factions from Karus Forest. Black Market dealers sat huddled over musty wooden tables and booths selling stolen goods, the bones of day mortals, scrolls, enchanted weapons and other contraband. Dustdealers weighed out Stardust in tiny cloth bags on scales.
The market chamber itself had been divided into six sections by a series of canals. Long wooden planks spanned one section to the next and were used as crossings. Shade noticed that the natural defenses these divides provided were less guarded than in previous visits. The drainage channels remained active to insure the marketplace never flooded and to prevent odor buildup.
Burning braziers lit the Black Markets. Heavy doors and archways had been built into the walls of the huge chamber on all four sides of the marketplace. These passages led to old maintenance and store rooms that had since been converted into shops, banks, guildhalls, taverns, inns, brothels and other dives.
Shade saw two Doelms rap loudly on a large cast-iron door he knew led to the Slave Quarter. A Shamite slaver opened a slot in the door. His heavily-pierced face peered through. The Doelms whispered a password. The Shamite opened the door and ushered the Doelms into the underground slave trade.
The assassin had heard rumors that Shamites kidnapped poor men, women and children off the streets of their own city. He had even caught ear of an illegal sex trade that went on behind those doors. The Dark Elf supposed those weak enough to be sold into slavery must be weak enough to deserve it, but he always felt deeply unsettled about the matter. He had left his former master in Jui-Sae due to Sadora’s dark tastes for preying on the weak even despite his undeniably impressive strength.
The Dark Elf strolled past the monstrous hosts of other night mortals. He could feel their eyes upon him, the eyes of Doelms, Drakor and Syssrah, but they parted for him. They could not make out his face, but sensed a deadly aura about him. Shade grinned darkly. The Doelms of the Kurn underground were far larger than the runts who took refuge in Jile. Doelms that grew to full size were bred to be warriors, brute savages with only appetite for war. They adorned random pieces of western leather, chain and plate armors, but their skin still showed evidence of self-mutilation and tribal marking from their native roots.
Shade hurried past a crowd of Doelms playing Bones.
The Doelms huddled in a circle and watched in building anticipation. The dealer shook a cloth bag full of bones and spilled it on the ground. The soft glow in their eyes flared as the bones hit the floor. A femur lay across a humerus bone declaring a clear winner to the round. The assassin snorted knowing how rarely the game could declare a clear winner. The rules were simple. The Doelm who bet on the bone that lay topmost the pile won the roll.
The scrawny Doelm dealer let out a hoot of triumph. The other Doelms cursed and cast the coins at his feet. He squatted and began snatching up the gold and bloodstone pieces in his greedy fingers.
A Doelm warrior ripped his chainmail chest piece in half. He beat his apish chest. He pointed a finger of accusation at the dealer and roared, “You cheated!”
“I did not,” the scrawny Doelm froze.
“You did too!” the warrior spat back. And that was the end of the argument. The warrior descended upon his weaker kinsman. He beat him savagely.
The Doelm dealer curled up into a ball.
The warrior kicked him again and again hard in the gut.
Shade hastened his steps.
“Squash the runt!” the other Doelms jeered. The mob licked their lips and shook their fists in an epidemic bloodlust.
The sewer guards turned their backs to the beating that is until another Doelm brigand accidently struck another warrior across the face. The warrior shoved the brigand into a group of other Doelms. A full-scale riot broke out. Claws and fists flew. It took two huge Grulls, a tall bearded Braznian man, eight Syssrah and five Drakoran guards to peel the Doelmish mob off one another.
“Order!” the Braznian shouted, “Keep your disputes to the back-quadrants! Any bloodshed in the marketplace is answerable to Warlord Lewd!”
The Doelms immediately ceased the carnage and the mob dispersed.
The scrawny Doelm crawled off coughing up blood.
Shade was impressed at how quickly the mere mention of the name Lewd quelled brawls. Still, he could not help, but shake his head at the doltish creatures. It had always seemed to him that Bones was just a brigand’s excuse to bust a few heads. But perhaps that was the point. Doelms who did not regularly satisfy their bloodlust were prone to revolts and rioting. It was in the guards’ best interest to permit the occasional bloodletting just as long as it didn’t get too out of hand.