Port-à-Lucine - Quartier Ouvrier

[Gaston La Stache]

Rumors have begun to swirl among the denizens of Quartier Ouvrier. Under the cover of darkness, shadowy figures have been seen moving large crates through the winding alleys. Whispers among the local commoners hint at an increase in smuggling activity, with speculation pointing to the involvement of various clandestine groups.

[Madame Trousers Son]

Yet another round of De Sauvre Foundation agents purchasing & forgiving bad debt descend upon the Ouvrier, perhaps such charity attempting to purchase absolution... for a brief time, the crushing debt and squalor is lifted before the tide of misery resumes its peak.

((Thanks DM Indolence! ))

[MsDianaQueen]

As dawn begins to rise again in Port-a-Lucine, the gruesome sight of a harlot woman who's been had their chest viciously ripped open. Sinew and bone are scattered around, and upon closer inspection, it seems they have teeth marks on them. Several organs are noticeably missing, though one would wonder, where did they go? ((OOC: Scenes placed IG))

[Malvado]

Through the shrouded veil of the night, the district slumbers in uneasy silence. The treacherous paths of the poorer quarter, where shadows plot and danger festers, are disturbed by the deliberate cadence of steel-clad boots striking unforgiving stone. Each resounding step heralds a grim vigil—a harbinger of reckoning.

Two figures emerge, clad in dark armor adorned with cruel spikes, their forms radiating menace. Their presence is an unspoken decree, a herald of judgment. As they traverse the labyrinth of alleys, the quiet dealings of criminal desperation are sundered by the merciless symphony of violence. Justice, swift and unyielding, is delivered to those bold or foolish enough to stand in defiance. Blades sing their song of finality, and blood flows freely, tracing the cracks of the cobbled roads like tributaries to an unholy river.

And yet, as swiftly as it begins, the tumult subsides. The streets are hushed once more, save for the distant whispers of dread. The two Banites stand sentinel at the heart of the Ouvrier, their piercing gazes cutting through the gloom. They are unyielding, an ominous bastion against the festering evils that gnaw at the city's soul—a darkness greater still, standing against the abyss.

In their wake, the streets bear the scars of retribution, and the air hangs heavy with a singular truth: where the faithful tread, no sin shall go unpunished.

[MsDianaQueen]

As night settles within the Ouvrie, those who roam the streets might catch the scent of something foul wafting through the air leading to a gruesome display of violence with an even more horrifying message scrawled onto the wall in some sort of red paint?

[Madame Trousers Son]

The night sees the unusual display of a squad of Gendarmes entering the Quartier Ouvrier and subduing the local criminal gang to secure, with no casualties, the area around this foul scent until dawn. Clearly whatever had transpired was being treated very seriously indeed...

[Avarice]

Fliers have begun to appear in the Marchand and the Ouvrier, posted on walls in taverns and glued to the stonework in places that commoners congregate.

[Lionheart]

A towering man is seen hauling various goods and bits of furniture into the tenements. Later into the evening that same day, faint candlelight and the sombre tunes of a lute could be heard from one of the upstairs apartments.

[Lionheart]

[Somewhat crude but eligible flyers offering services pop up at local establishments in Port-a-Lucine.]

(Spoiler because of large image)

Spoiler: show

[MsDianaQueen]

A horrific sight can be seen through windows in the Ouvrier as it seems another body has been found, eaten and torn apart in a ritualistic manor. These attacks seem to hold no bars to the choosing of victims. Some of the meat seems to have been removed, though were it could be located, who knows?

[herkles]

Maitresse Josephine is seen going through the Ouvier Handing out food to various people from children to beggars, working girls and even to Caliban. The Maitresse clad in a pink and white gown and radiating an expression of kindness, even as some rougher and intimidating looking caliban came out to speak with her., and even as Caporal Soursight walked by. Many of the poor likely tasting their first ever taste of gumbo, griot, jambalaya, tchanka, or Crawfish Etouffee.
//Thanks DM Indolence