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Anthalis itself is built in a giant circle. The 6 gates into the city feed directly into the lower city. Imagine the city as a giant circle with a radius of 7 miles. The great portion is made up of the lower city, accessable directly from the outside world. In the center of the circle is the Upper City, with a radius of around 2 miles. The Upper City is separated from the Lower City by The Wall, a 35 foot tall magically protected wall. The Upper City sits nearly 20 feet off the ground itself. It is only accessable from the Lower City through 4 heavily regulated and guarded gates. These gates automatically take one up the difference in elevation, saving one the trouble of climbing. They can be shut down easily from the Council Chambers. In the center of the Upper City stands the Council Chambers. While this is not separated by a wall, in order to access the Chambers, one needs to activate the Gates. These are similar to the gates between the Lower and Upper Cities. However, unlike the perpetually active gates below, these will only open for Council members or invited guests.

The Lower City houses roughly 90% of the population of Anthalis, and it shows. The city is filled to the brim with people trying to make a decent living in the overpopulated environment while dealing with the Council's laws and edicts. Pretty much anything can be found down here, of varying quaility. The streets often are filled with waste and garbage while people walk by without giving a sideways look. Crime is rampant, as many turn to theft as a way to make ends meet. Even within this area, though, there are some more stable, more clean environments. Many of these can be noted around buildings and areas the Council has some interest in. Otherwise, sometimes charismatic leaders can gather people together and try to stablize a portion of the City. Both mages and mundane people live in the Lower City.

Adán had woken up too early to walk straight to work, but there was little to do at his cramped little "home" he rented out nearly half a mile away from the store he worked in. Half a mile was not far to walk in terms of distance, but if the streets took to crowding like they did nearly every hour of the day, or if one did not have a good sense of direction to guide themselves through the convoluted cross streets, it could be a very long walk. Adán decided to go ahead and leave early. Maybe he would treat himself to one of the better eateries along the way, or if he ran into someone he knew or saw a shop he liked, he wouldn't have to worry too much about getting to work on time. Nothing would make him late.

He took a way to work less familar to him because he remembered a bakery there that seemed sanitary and cheap for the quality of food-- grains and meat, things that needed to be grown in large fields, were always more expensive in the middle of a city. Perhaps this eatery had access to a seller with an efficient farm, or maybe they got the spill over from what the farm sold to the government or other large entity. Adán didn't care. He just wanted a roll for breakfast, and he payed for it and moved on without striking up a conversation.

He was starting to eat it when he saw a shop he didn't recognize. There were too many to remember them all, especially when the displays changed, and this one had minaturized weapons in the window. You'd think that working in a weapons shop would curb his curiosity towards that sort of thing, but being that these were minatures and that he had time to kill, he decided to step in to see what else the store boasted. He didn't even realize it was a cosignment shop until he was inside, and then it was too easy to let his curiosity take over. He walked towards a shelf with vials on it to read the labels. He couldn't tell if they were props or the real thing-- whatever the "real thing" might be, he wasn't sure.

"Hmn?" he asked through a mouthful of bread, then turned with a flourish to greet her. "Hello there young lady!" he said with a grin. "Do you run this store?" His blue eyes followed the wall behind her before settling on her face. He was attractive, one might say, and in such a way that his age could not be guessed acurately, but he was himself a young adult.

The small wagon was parked near the gate to the upper city. Easy access for the gypsies, who find themselves going in and out quite often. The lives of eccess called for entertainment more often than not, and it was rumoured throughout the gypsy camp that a new council leader would be coming to power. Yet another excuse to celebrate.

This in mind, it was the job of the gypsy troupe to always be prepaired for any last minute calls. Especially Caitee, the Gypsy Jewel. On request for all events that the council held for the nobles, it was important that she stay clean, and not associate with the "rif raf" of the lower city.

Yeah. Right. Telling her no was just her excuse for wanting to do it more, and that is why, as day broke upon the lower city, Caitee arose from her bed in her own wagon, and quietly slipped into her "walking clothes." The clothes she wore to hide her identity from any nosy snitches who might plant a seed of (Unfounded) suspiicion in the council's mind. Unfounded, because Caitee had to ties to any humanist organizations. Mostly because she really didn't have any ties to anyone, except for the other gypsies.

Some how, the beautiful "jewel" of the entertainment world managed to hide her identity failry well every morning. She blended into the packed crowd, mostly by acting like she didn't deserve notice. She wore a drab, faded purple tightly fitted tunic over brown breeches, white hose, and black, dusty old work boots. Her hair was covered by a kercheif, and she made certain she had a bit of dust on her face and bare arms. She needed to look the part. Besides, no matter what the call for entertainment, she always was given about an hour to ready herself. As the "main act" they couldnt' HONESTLY expect her to go on right away. It woudl ruin the fun for the rest of the party, after all.

Speaking of parties, a small one had gathered inside of a weapons shop she was passing with... what was it? TOY weapons in the windows? Or sometihng? She wasn't sure. She didn't know a whole lot about complicated weapondry and magical ware fare. She knew basic self defence, and assumed that was all she needed. And what was that? Muffins? As a teenaged girl, the food sensors buried deep in her sub concious drew her instantly to the shop.

She opened the door, and smiled sheepishly. "Umm... Hi! I dont' know you. But I smelled food. Is it for sale?"

The Soldner clan may have been based (mostly) in the Upper City, but in times of conflict like this, a sizable portion of a mercenary's time would be taken up by jobs he had been contracted to, and it was only sensible that he would spend most of that time in the Lower City, or perhaps not in Anthalis at all. There was less of a need for protection in the civilized Upper City than the compairatively slum-like conditions of the Lower City, or the areas outside of Anthalis. Of course, there was a small barracks of sorts for the Soldner in the Lower City, so that those citizens who were'nt privelidged with having access to the Upper City could at least have limited access to the clan's services.

This time, Raserei had been away from the city for a good length of time, serving as a guard for a merchant caravan that had ventured into a rather dangerous area of the Empire. He'd noticed that he was the only guard for the caravan, which was fine, aside from the fact that he obviously could'nt be everywhere at once, and therefore could'nt protect the entire caravan from an ambush.

Which was fine, seeing as how bandits quickly chose to keep their lives over the loot.

In any case, the caravan runners seemed to have had their crap together, as they had planned their trip out almost flawlessly in concordance with the expiration of the contract, which ran out at about the same time they got back to Anthalis with their goods.

Raserei made no hurry to get back to his clan. It would take him a long time to get there, seeing as how his destination, the main Soldner HQ, was in the Upper City. He had'nt been to the small barracks in the Lower City for a long time, and did'nt plan to, seeing as how people in the Lower City could'nt afford to contract him anyway.

As he walked at a rather leisurely pace, he practically felt people looking at him. No doubt because he was nearly seven and a half feet tall, towering above the average person. The fact that his biceps were probably bigger than some people's heads might have been a factor, too. And the armor, and the axe, and the shield... Just as well, it served as a deterrant to thugs he did'nt feel like swatting.

Being the warrior he was, Raserei's cocked an eye at just about every weapon store he sited. Of course, he did'nt give most a second glance. He did'nt want the second-rate crap most of these stores seemed to pull from their behinds. Swords... swords... why were swords so damn popular? That was one thing he noticed and puzzled over in his mind a lot. When you looked at a weapon store, what would you probably see first? A sword.

At any rate, the mercenary did'nt carry much money with him on assignments, so he could'nt actually buy anything anyway. The only thing he carried money around for was to buy something if he got hungry. That really wasn't enough to buy a good peice of equipment, when it came right down to it.

However, one little shop he'd never seen made him actually look, rather than just passingly glance at. Most of the time, a shop would display full sized models, rather than little miniatures. Maybe it was that, or the fact that the store looked more like a gathering place than a shop at the time. At any rate, he found that he looked over the set of mini's more than once, then ran his gauntleted fingers through his hair, closing his eyes.

"Eh, what the Hell. I have plenty of time."
His voice was'nt as deep as one would've expected, but it did have a thick, Germanic accent to it. With that, the mercenary stepped cautiously through the door while pushing it aside, lowering his stature enough so that he could get through the entryway without hitting his head on something. Then, subconciously almost, he covered his head with his right forearm as he stood upright slowly, making sure the ceiling was high enough for him to stand. Just barely... He then uncovered his head, standing at a full height of seven feet, four inches. It was obvious to anyone why he was careful while indoors.

"So... is this a salon, or an arms dealer?"

((Hun, I didn't think they were all in your store, but in a different one.... sweatdrop ))

"Well, uh, I mean, what is it?" he asked as he finished off the roll. "What do these bottles do?" He leaned towards the shelf to read a label.

"It seems..."
The huge, armor clad mercenary pulled a large, stoutly built battle axe from a carrying hoop at his side, holding it up a little. While he seemed to have no problem hefting the thing with one hand, it was probably too big and heavy for the average person to weild, much less carry, unless they used both hands.

"... One of those guys was wearing an iron collar. Chipped my blade."
At the same time, he pointed to a very small, minute part on the blade that looked uneven from the rest of it, showing where the steel blade of the axe had been damaged. It reality, it probably was'nt due to just one guy wearing an iron collar and him trying to decapitate the man, but rather the fact that he had used the axe for several years without having it repaired.

"All I really need is a repair, though I guess I could use a replacement."
The axe was'nt anything special; it was just a tool he used to get his job done. He never really felt attached to any of his material possessions, and while this axe did cost quite a bit from where he'd gotten it, due to it's quality in both craftsmanship and the material it was made from, he could bear to let it go.

Tera looked over the axe for a moment, "Well if you're looking for a repair you'd have to take it to someone else, I have no talent for metal. But if you're looking for a replacement I can probably help with that."

Taking a moment Tera walked over to one of the cases and lifted out an axe about half the size of the one the mercenary held. The metal was a dark red color, and it was decorated with a skull in the middle of the blade, "Maybe you'd like this one. I call it Bloodspiller. It has an enchantment in it that causes whatever wound it creates to bleed easier than normal. Rather usefull for fighting larger things that you can't defeat in just a few hits. Of course I could make you a bigger one if you like."