Axelgear
General Wontwit
Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with.
The heat. Sun above, the heat.
Ask any man, woman, or child what they remember from their time in Gem, and that's what they'll tell you. They'll tell you plenty else, of course; the markets, the sights, the sounds, the smells; all manner of people from all manner of places, there to hawk their wares. They'll tell you about gambling, and gladiators, and animals from around the world sitting in cages, and slaves sitting in cages like animals, but the one thing they'll all have in common is the heat.
It is Waterday, the 11th of Ascending Earth, RY 768. The sun is high in the sky, casting its baleful light down on the city below and baking all those without sufficient cover. Deep beneath the surface, in a hollowed magma vein, the Sunken Bazaar operates in blissful ignorance of the searing temperatures above. It is still warm, for how could it not be amid so many bodies and cooking fires, but it is at least tolerably stifling instead of murderous. The air is moving, as well, which is at least some blessing.
"Spiced wine!" cries one merchant from behind his push-cart, "guaranteed to soothe the finest tongue and melt the heart of even the coldest woman!"
"Shirts and robes, so fine as to be fit for the palaces of the gods themselves! Stitched from the finest threads, and woven from only the softest silks from my wife's personal moths! An educated woman from the Threshold, I assure you there is no finer silk!"
"Do you feel unsafe leaving your home unguarded when you work? Who could? The Hearthstand Brigade offers rates as mercenaries, bodyguards, and home security at extremely reasonable rates! Have the security of nobility, at a price easily affordable by the lowliest miner!"
"Who will buy my son!? He's a smart boy, nimble fingers, and doesn't talk back when given orders!"
In Gem, everything is for sale.
The city practically breathes wealth. Commerce is its lifeblood. Trade floods through it like a torrent. In Gem is wealth, it is said, that is beyond the dreams of avarice.
Whomever said such a thing clearly does not know just how greatly the Chosen can dream.
The heat. Sun above, the heat.
Ask any man, woman, or child what they remember from their time in Gem, and that's what they'll tell you. They'll tell you plenty else, of course; the markets, the sights, the sounds, the smells; all manner of people from all manner of places, there to hawk their wares. They'll tell you about gambling, and gladiators, and animals from around the world sitting in cages, and slaves sitting in cages like animals, but the one thing they'll all have in common is the heat.
It is Waterday, the 11th of Ascending Earth, RY 768. The sun is high in the sky, casting its baleful light down on the city below and baking all those without sufficient cover. Deep beneath the surface, in a hollowed magma vein, the Sunken Bazaar operates in blissful ignorance of the searing temperatures above. It is still warm, for how could it not be amid so many bodies and cooking fires, but it is at least tolerably stifling instead of murderous. The air is moving, as well, which is at least some blessing.
"Spiced wine!" cries one merchant from behind his push-cart, "guaranteed to soothe the finest tongue and melt the heart of even the coldest woman!"
"Shirts and robes, so fine as to be fit for the palaces of the gods themselves! Stitched from the finest threads, and woven from only the softest silks from my wife's personal moths! An educated woman from the Threshold, I assure you there is no finer silk!"
"Do you feel unsafe leaving your home unguarded when you work? Who could? The Hearthstand Brigade offers rates as mercenaries, bodyguards, and home security at extremely reasonable rates! Have the security of nobility, at a price easily affordable by the lowliest miner!"
"Who will buy my son!? He's a smart boy, nimble fingers, and doesn't talk back when given orders!"
In Gem, everything is for sale.
The city practically breathes wealth. Commerce is its lifeblood. Trade floods through it like a torrent. In Gem is wealth, it is said, that is beyond the dreams of avarice.
Whomever said such a thing clearly does not know just how greatly the Chosen can dream.