Lyonesse the gray city of dreams, lust and desire. The towering buildings were placed perfectly, a modern day metropolis of immorality smothered in the gapping hands of corruption. The city's look itself depicts this. No city planning, just twisted streets and bright lights. This city never sleeps. That said, recently the city's crime rate has been rising significantly. Taxes; high and unfair. The city's government corrupted and consumed by their greed. Money is power. And that is something Jake Harlin understands well. To archive what one wants in this hell hole, you'll have to be a ruthless son of a gun, and a smart one at that.
Walking down the brittle stairs Jake was in extreme nausea. The stench of semen, blood and smog filled the air-- Life was gasping for air. He could even taste the smog the air. It disgusted him. Jake took the first step down to the second floor. In front of him lay a woman with a needle plunged into her left arm. It was his neighbor. Just another costumer. He'd pause with a sigh only to turn down another flight of stairs to the first floor of the old apartment building. The place was a mess. Graffiti on every wall; used needles on the floors and prostitutes on every corner. This was the poorer section of Lyonesse, and the Law Enforcement rarely came around. It wasn't convent. This was the roots of the city's economy. The darker side brought the highest revenues.
He managed to leave the building without suffocating or vomiting. A great success. It was half past noon, and the fog began to roll in. Visibility was constrained. He hated this kind of weather the most. Jake remembered old folk tales of vampires coming out from the most thick of fog. Of course he didn't believe any of that nonsense, but the thought itself irked him greatly.
“Look what the fog dragged in. Well if it isn't the kleptomaniac. Where have you been Jake?"
“Stop snooping around and asking me questions Terry.”
“You hear about the big one?”
Terry Magsaw was the big guy in the neighborhood. Not only was Terry a cutthroat brute, he was the guy to come to when you needed to know information. Anyone to anything. No problem. The only cost was cash. A whole lot of it.
“The big one? You talking about the loot from that one caravan that was raided a week ago?”
“Looks like you really don't live in a hole Jake. I bet you'd love to know what was Monolith's loot wouldn't you?”
“How much.”
“For this, a eight hundred.”
“Eight Hundred? You got to be shitting me. This better be fucking worth it, or I'm coming straight to you.”
“Tough guy in the house eh?”
The Caravan from Ganymede had three wagons filled with a huge amount of human organs. Poorly guarded they were easily overpowered by the Monolith band. Currently an organization growing in power, but is still considered small fry compared to the major crime families of Lyonesse; Rivalry between the major crime families has recently caused increased tension. Only a little spark is needed to explode this powder keg. Satisfied, he paid Terry for the information. He hated the man. But business is business and he needed some cash.
“Guess I'm going to be taking some organs.”
“Guess I'll be collecting yours when your dead.”
Those words stayed in Jake's head for the remainder of the day. Something like a bad omen.
