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<span class="mu-i">Outside the eastern walls, where the last breath of the Theurges still sometimes blaze to life when the wind picks up, the Red Market whispers that Rinik and the Slicerats have, from the ash-stained abandoned urban landscape, acquired themselves a manor. In the parlance of the Slicerats, they call it <span class="mu-s">The Grey Manor</span>. A joke, perhaps, for the stain of the old ash-blown winds.
It's a hard life, in the long urban sprawl-shadow that our fair city casts. The Senators try and the Empyreal Emisaries struggle.
When the Theurges were booted from the city, they went down in a blaze. Although anyone from here abouts would be hard pressed to call it glory. The centre of the city was spared the worst excess, through firefighters and the planning of the Legion for their long awaited insurrection.
But the Eastern wards and sprawls were so much kindling. It's been years but the normalcy of urban is slow to reassert itself.
A little spark friend of ours have let it be known that in this Grey Manor, where the Slicerats train, safe away from the prying eyes of the Watchers, they keep a small gaol. And they've stolen something of ours. Seems only fair we take it back. But to approach through watched roads and guarded alleys is hard and harsher. The Slicerats rule supreme out here.
Of course... we have a woman on the inside</span>
